Usual disclaimers apply. Heed the rating, I'm not responsible for scared minds. Input makes for one happy artist-turned-pseudoauthor. I appreciate critiques ever so much.

With that out of the way... Hi, I'm Zoe, and this is my first fanfiction, and it's, well… it's robot slash. Go figure. I blame DarknessDivine and the LJ communities that support transformers even having a fandom in the first place.

To be honest, I almost gave up on this story. In the course of writing it, I've become aware of how cliche this sort of story is as more and more like it sprung up. But it still is evolving as I go, and I'm optimistic that the ending will be unique. I've got another story in the plotting stages coming up behind this probably within a month, if all goes well, and that one's a completely off the wall AU continuation of the G1 series. Yeah. I'm done rambling on now.

You Stole the Sun from My Heart

Chapter 1
From Despair to Where

/I try and walk in a straight line
An imitation of dignity
From despair to where
From despair to where/
--

"Well, later Bluestreak. I'm headed out to get in some recharge b'fore my shift." Jazz stretched as he stood before stalking out the door.

The rec room had thinned out consistently over the last half-joor, and now was down to one occupant. If this were a normal night, the common room would still be bustling with mechs having conversations and being sociable; passing rounds of high-grade if there had been a significant victory. This wasn't the case. Ever since sunrise, the entirety of the Autobot forces had been called upon to take part in one of the most grueling battles they had seen yet on Earth against the Decepticons. Megatron's troops had attacked with a ferocity that took them by surprise--the Decepticon leader seemed to have bet all his credits on taking out the Autobots in one decisive battle. In the end, his impatience was eventually his downfall, forcing him to call a retreat due to a critical mistake on his part. Before all was said and done, both sides had taken heavy losses. Bluestreak was one of those few mostly unscathed, whereas the vast majority of the other Autobots had injuries significant enough that Ratchet had his hands full for the next few orns.

The predominant conversations floating about earlier had been mostly about 'who was in what condition' while those present compared battle wounds and gloated over which Decepticons they managed to inflict damage on.

It was much later now, and Bluestreak seemed to be the last one not to have left for his own quarters. Perched in the back corner of the common room with his feet on the bench and his knees up near his shoulders, he watched his hand idly as it swished the glowing liquid in his half-emptied cube. The gunner glanced once more around the now-empty room with a sigh. Oh well. Jazz wasn't much of a conversation partner tonight, anyway. His spirits were about as high as everyone else's, and that made for a particularly quiet 3IC.

Well, it seemed that he wasn't going to be able to recharge tonight, he thought dryly. It wasn't a matter of question. This wasn't the only night where the incessant chatter in his mind refused to give him peace. It was getting pretty noisy.

Tonight's inner-monologue consisted mostly of possible… alternate scenarios to the recent battle. Those scenarios seemed to have an annoying ability to turn into nightmarishly similar visions from long ago. No one was lost, he kept reminding himself sullenly.

While others had begun to leave for their quarters partway into the night, he took note that Sideswipe had never shown up out of those who were among the uninjured. He'd been keeping track, surprising as that might have been to anyone else. Really, as much as others pegged him as a talker, few realized that he listened just as much as he talked. And so, coupled with the information that Sunstreaker had been all but scrapped, he had a sneaking suspicion of where the twin just might have been lingering.

His original plan was to hang around the rec room in the event that Sideswipe would show up later to grab some energon. As it stood, that didn't seem to be happening. Sideswipe might have been good company, after all.

On that note, it was about time for some Lamborghini hunting… not that he had any doubt in his processor as to where Sideswipe currently was. At least this would be a good distraction to keep him from mulling over everything, and possibly an opportunity to distract Sides from worrying himself to an early deactivation. Bluestreak made his way for the door, disposing of his stale energon as he went.

After a short trek, he knocked once on the inside of the repair bay's doorframe, poking his head inside. "Ah! Here you are. You know, I never saw you come into the common room this evening."

Sideswipe was seated in an almost too-small chair next to the recharging form of Sunstreaker. He had been slouched over his crossed forearms over the berth, but had jumped when Blue spoke.

"Primus… you startled me." The warrior gathered himself upright in the chair, crossing his arms over his hood. "I hope you need something important." He sounded as weary as he looked, so the comment came out with less of a bite than he intended. Blue was undeterred, he at least knew his intentions were good. Since when was it a crime to see to the mental health of a friend?

The Datsun leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, mirroring Sideswipe's own demeanor. "Actually, what I need is for you to come with me. You know as well as I do that Sunstreaker isn't going to explode into little bits of Lamborghini sparkles if you leave his side to get some energy and a good recharge. You're no good to anyone, especially your brother, if you're half dead from exhaustion tomorrow. Now, come on." He motioned to the door with what he hoped was a friendly smile on his face. "I'll drag you if it comes to that."

Sideswipe blinked his optics blearily, wondering why now of all times Bluestreak had decided to bother him; and at this time of night, no less. "No… no, I'll be fine, you go ahead." The red mech rubbed absently at the side of his face while turning back to look at his yellow twin.

"No, I'm serious. You're coming with me. No buts." With that, Bluestreak strode purposefully over and took his hand. Sideswipe offered no resistance when he was pulled to stand and led back to the rec room.

/--/

Upon entering, Sideswipe seemed to be having second thoughts. Blue noticed right away the tell-tail tightening at the edge of his faceplates, the only thing that betrayed the red twin's worry. "Hey, hey, what did I say earlier, eh? Trust me, from the look of things, Ratchet patched him together good as new, right?" Blue gave him a friendly pat on the back, "I mean, I assume he's only offline because Ratchet would hand his aft to him if he were up and about so soon after getting injured so badly."

"Are you stalking us?" Sideswipe deadpanned.

Bluestreak stopped and stared for a moment before replying, "What, you think I only know things about you guys because I'm getting information in underhanded, sneaky ways? Perceptor came in and gave us a status report on everyone a while ago."

Sideswipe hmpfed and moved past Blue to take a seat, while the latter retrieved a couple cubes of 'ye olde good stuff' before seating himself across from the former. The gunner used a finger to slide one cube in Sides' direction before taking a swig from his own, while the warrior stared at the cube, not making any motion towards it.

Blue couldn't help but raise an optic ridge. "I've drugged it, you know. Soon as you drink it down, it'll only be a breem before I can lunge across the table and take advantage of you unhindered." He leaned over the table and leered for effect.

The Lamborghini merely stared with his mouth half-open, half wondering whether or not Blue had finally gone insane.

"Geeze. Just drink it, Sideswipe. You need it." Bluestreak grinned and took another hearty swig of his high-grade, wincing as it went down, "Ah-this batch has some bite. Must be fresh."

Collecting himself, Sideswipe tentatively took the cube and sipped it. "Yeah… I guess I do," he sullenly answered. "And what about you? Do you really need it?"

"Hah. Everyone needs a little high-grade. The world would be a better place if everyone would subscribe to that notion. Just think, if Prime and Megatron both got overcharged to Cybertron and back and had a heart-to-heart, do you think we'd still be at war? I think not."

"What I think, is that you're already overcharged."

"Only a little. Definitely not to Cybertron and back--which coincidentally is what you're going to be."

"You're so sure of this?"

Blue eyed Sides' already emptied cube, then went to fetch a fresh round for both of them. "Here, drink more."

Sideswipe laughed outright before resolutely going to work on his second cube. That's more like it, Bluestreak thought.

/--/

Where the Datsun had stopped himself after his second cube, the Lamborghini had gone on to down two more, and was looking quite content.

Blue lounged in his chair, feet propped up on the table. "How we doin' over there?"

"Marvelous." Sides snorted, "Maybe you're right…" He slurred, "Maybe the world just needs a little high-grade."

"Of course I'm right."

"Shall we go to Prime with this news?"

"Actually, that would be a bad idea, even though I'm sure that by this point I could dare you to do just that, and you'd do it."

"…Probably." That did it. Sideswipe became a quivering mass of giggles right before the Datsun's optics. He figured that that was his cue.

"Alright Chuckles, time for recharge." He got up and stretched, but stopped dead when he realized with dismay that the red twin wasn't laughing anymore, but sobbing brokenly instead. That wasn't the desired effect at all, he realized, doorwings sagging.

"Oh… hey, come on." He put a hand on Sideswipe's back in attempt to comfort him. "This has been stressful for all of us, but it'll look better in the morning. Promise." He moved to help Sides stand, only to end up mostly supporting him.

"Oh Primus… Sunny," He choked. "If I had just… and…" He cut himself off with another sob. "What in the Pit is wrong with me? Bawling my optics out like a sparkling…" Abruptly, he stopped, and tried to compose himself. He trembled still as he clung to Blue to keep upright.

The gunner led them both out into the hallway, leaving the empty cubes where they lay. "It's okay. Really, it is. You have to let it out sometimes or else you'll explode," he commented, reassuringly.

"No… I'm done. I'm good, " Sides mumbled back weakly.

The rest of the way to the twins' shared quarters held an awkward silence.

/--/

"Alright, here we are. Punch in your code, would you?" Sideswipe stood upright and moved towards the door, typing the code twice before getting it right. Blue remained in the hall as Sideswipe strode in, weaving a little.

"You gonna be okay? Need anything?" the Datsun queried with genuine concern for his friend.

The Lamborghini sat on his berth and remained quiet for a moment before replying, but avoiding optic-contact, "Hey… Blue. Listen, if you want, you can stay here. No need to walk all the way back to your quarters if you don't need to."

Bluestreak smiled to himself. "If you don't want to be alone, you can just say so. I understand. Really, I do," he concluded as he walked in. "So, where do I get to recharge? I don't see another berth in here, so shall I assume you two just bunk together? That's always a good space saver."

Sideswipe was taken aback by how forward Blue was being about it all, but was still grateful that he wasn't leaving. "Yeah, we recharge together. There's just… no chance I'll offline if there isn't someone else there," he confided, obviously still very overcharged.

Plopping down on the bed next to the red twin, the gunner gestured with his hands in an excited manner. "It'll be like a sleepover!" He grinned.

The grin was contagious; the warrior couldn't help the lazy smile he returned. "Thanks, Blue."

The Datsun flopped over, scooting over to claim a side and sweeping his doorwings back to hang off the side. His hinges were going to be sore in the morning from not being supported, but that was of little matter at the moment.

Sideswipe lay down and made himself comfortable, facing away from Blue. There wasn't really enough room between the two of them to avoid touching; the Datsun's hood projected further from his body than either Lamborghinis', afterall. Bluestreak took it in stride and exaggeratedly stretched, yawned, and draped an arm across Sides' midsection, snuggling up a little closer to get comfortable. He wondered why the situation didn't seem as awkward as it probably should have been… he was strangely comfortable with the proximity.

/--/

The red twin relaxed into the mock embrace despite himself. It was definitely comforting having someone there, even given the circumstances. He wondered idly why Bluestreak was being so caring towards him. Sure, they'd been friends, but not particularly close ones. More like comrades-in-arms, really. It was good to better know each other and how they played off of each other's strengths and weaknesses in a battle, since most of the time it was Bluestreak giving cover fire for the two of them as they charged in and did what they did.

Suddenly thinking was becoming hard. Sideswipe wasn't known for his ability to hold energon. But even through the haze, his mind drifted to a new, interesting question. Maybe it was the energon putting thoughts into his head, but he wondered seriously if Bluestreak was in fact coming on to him. If so, he seemed to be doing a good job of it with the way his hand was strumming along the inside of his elbow joint. And even regardless if the gunner was oblivious to this action, it still didn't help the fact that he was starting to want more of that touch.

Oh, wow. Primus, that energon really was drugged, wasn't it? Blue was only lying about how long it'd take to take effect. Slogging, manipulative little… his engine began to rumble.

/--/

In his defense, Bluestreak really had only been idly moving his fingers. In fact, he'd just about slipped into recharge by the time he noticed the reverberations coming from the other's engine. His fingers stilled for a moment as his optics shone a little brighter. This wasn't part of the plan, even if he'd just been playing it by audio after getting Sideswipe good and inebriated. Bluestreak wasn't all that over-energized, but even a little bit of high-grade tended to loosen up one's inhibitions. He was here, Sideswipe was here, and it honestly didn't sound like a bad idea.

His fingers started moving again, this time deliberately in questioning circles. The Lamborghini's engine thrummed steadily faster as he felt the silver digits press more determinately into the seams of his inner elbow.

"Blue…" he stiffened, feeling the fingers immediately halt. "You don't have to." Sides cursed inwardly when he realized how his voice betrayed how much he'd quite like to.

"You know, I can't say I've never thought about it before," the Datsun began, renewing his probing. He leaned in a bit closer, speaking next to the warrior's audio, "I just never thought you'd be open to the idea." He ended that statement by brushing his hand up across the Lamborghini's hood, starting anew his ministrations across neck cables.

The touch following that almost-not-Bluestreak voice right in his audios was enough to make Sideswipe shiver, engine revving up an octave. The Datsun's own engine had gone from an idle purr to something a little more in the process. The Lamborghini really wasn't sure what he thought. He liked Blue, sure, but this was unexpected.

"I really do care about you. I… I know how painful it is to be alone. But I'll understand if you want me to stop-"

"No," he cycled air through his system, "No… this is fine." Sideswipe tried to sound resolute, but only barely made it.

Bluestreak moved to rest his head in the crook of Sides' neck. "If you change your mind, you can tell me to stop anytime." As his fingers continued to strum sensitive wires, his mouth began alternately nibbling and licking, glossa probing past tense neckstruts to the wiring underneath. That action elicited a rather heady moan as Sideswipe angled his head so that Blue may have better access.

/--/

Yep. He must have been drugged, the red one decided. He was drugged, being seduced (by Bluestreak of all mechs), and completely indifferent to any possible circumstances at the moment. The truth was that he honestly hadn't felt anyone touch him like this in what seemed like ages, though. Perhaps there wasn't really anything behind this, and Bluestreak just happened to be very generous with his comfort. He could be okay with that for now, really. He could be okay with just about anything with what Blue was doing with his tounge.

His train of thought ended about there as Bluestreak happened across a particularly sensitive nerve wire. He gasped, subconsciously leaning into the sweeping touch of the silver mech's glossa, seeking out contact on that single wire again.

Redoubling his efforts, the Datsun sought out to find it once more. He knew he got it when the red mech shuddered under him and released a long groan. He carefully singled out the wire with long and slow strokes, untangling it from neighboring wires, and in the process exposing more of it to his probing reach.

The silver hand worked downward now, being overcrowded by Sideswipe's chin in his attempt to expose as much of the back of his neck as he could. They traced the seams of his headlights before dipping lower to finger the edge of the hood. The Lamborghini's engine turned over just a little faster, sending vibrations through the Datsun's hand--and Primus, he could swear they were going right to his spark. The dull roar that grew under his hood did a good job at betraying his arousal. He honestly didn't expect to get this worked up. Pausing for a moment, he cycled air through his system to try and clear his processors.

Sideswipe made a small noise when the touch ceased. Cycling some air as well, he took advantage of that moment to turn around to face Bluestreak.

"I'm sorry… give me a second, and I promise I'll make this good for you. I just got a little distrac-"

The warrior had leaned forward and thoroughly cut off whatever the gunner was about to say. Sideswipe had an exceedingly pleasant kiss, he decided while still a little dazed at the turn of events. He felt the red mech's glossa ghost across his lip component--tentatively, but obviously, requesting access. He also took that time to decide that he was perhaps thinking too much, resolutely parting his lip's dermaplating just far enough that Sideswipe was encouraged to deepen the kiss.

Phantom sparks shot off across his optic range just before he offlined them, taken aback by how intense the oral stimulation was. Bluestreak had kissed before, but Primus, never like this. Sideswipe was positively devouring him. He was becoming lost to the sensation while he gently coaxed his hands back behind the red mech's head, half pulling him closer, but half seeking out more wires to manipulate--anything to return this sensation.

And then black hands started roaming. They slid under the front bumper, traced around the headlights, and smoothed over the matt black hood. The Datsun trembled at each new touch. When he paused to dip into the ports where the silver mech's shoulder cannons normally connected, the gunner moaned long and encouragingly into the warrior's mouth.

The Lamborghini ended the kiss then, and pulled back to find that Bluestreak was nothing short of panting. He was cycling short bursts of air through his systems, raggedly working to cool them down. Sideswipe wasn't fairing much better, though.

"Let me show you just what this feels like." He whispered huskily before closing in on Blue's neck, replicating the gunner's own earlier actions. His mouth now unobstructed, he voiced pleasured noises from the delicate touches of the red mech's mandenta against his tactile nodes hidden there. The Datsun's engine thrummed loudly, the sheer RPM vibrating their chassis pleasantly. Seeking more contact, Sideswipe drug a leg over to halfway straddle Bluestreak from his sideways position. A silver hand found purchase on the upper leg, aiding in arranging it there while trailing firm caresses all the way up to his aft, applying a good bit of force there that sent Sides' codpiece and midsection flush into full-contact. The hand then swept down to the knee, smoothing over the guard plating on the front before dipping enticingly into the gaps behind. Durring all this, the silver mech managed to slip his other hand under the red mech's arm to curl around his back, making incoherent patterns.

Sideswipe was reduced to moaning against his throat, higher processors shutting down one by one. Bluestreak bent to capture his mouth once more in time for the warrior to find the hinges of his door-wings. Primus, he was gone. Avidly he lapped at the inside of the red mech's mouth, coaxing him to just keep doing what he was doing while moving the hand not busied with the knee-joint back to fingering through neck-wires.

There was a roar from the cacophony of engines as they reached a crescendo, all cylinders running past critical and threatening to vibrate their very sparks apart while their HUDs each turned red with countless overheat notices and warnings of imminent processor overload. They pulled apart just enough to cry out their pleasure into each other's shoulders; critical error messages flashed just moments before their systems both were sent into a forced recharge.

Wait… my name's not Sunstreaker… was the last coherent thought Bluestreak could process before offlining soundlessly.