I love this pairing, and wanted to write a oneshot with 'em. It's just an idea that popped into my head. I hope each of you readers enjoy this little story I whipped up. It's a bit silly, but hey. Oh well.

Enjoy.

Shut Up and Kiss Me.

There she was.

The sassy Decepticon femme herself.

Starscream cowered back into a corner of the Nemesis' bow, stepping a turbined heel back in timidity. His servos gripped the wall that cast murky shadows about his broad shoulder panels. The shade fell over his faceplate as he pushed deeper into the crook, his red optics' wide gaze piercing through the darkness. He watched.

"Primus, have mercy," he nearly moaned, fixated on her.

Blackarachnia stood before an array of screens as she went about her monitor duty, her black, slender claws dancing almost too elegantly across those keyboards and data pads. Her shapely form shifted whenever she reached to press a button or alter a setting by the flick of a switch.

Starscream found himself biting his lip at the sight of such jet black armor, hugging her petite set of shoulder panels and curvy chestplate in every right way. And that robo-arachnid aft of hers…Primus, he wondered what it felt like beneath his servos.

His optic lids fluttered. "Snap out of it," he told himself.

Blackarachnia acted so different when she wasn't around him or Blitzwing or Lugnut. She was…slow, but not sluggish. Graceful as liquid, tranquil almost.

Starscream frowned. The urge to just walk over there and break the ice a little was killing him. He could calm her down if she got a bit feisty. How hard could it be?

Who was he kidding…He knew if he were to step one foot out of his little hiding spot, she would order him to get lost, stay out of her way, mute his audio unit before she did it herself, and throw out every hiss harvested within her before he could even stutter.

He bet his rear axel. Angered, his servo grasped the wall tightly.

"Curse her and her snappy etiquette," he muttered.

He hated it, yet he loved it.

The thoughts ceased. She moved.

The femmebot stylishly scooted her skidplate on top of an offline monitor, crossing her slender purple thighs whilst her arms crossed themselves across her chestplate. Starscream watched her high boots tap against the air, he watched each of her red optics close in the relaxation, and he watched her dark lips part as she drew in a breath to her air vents. He swallowed at the sight of her pointed, fair colored fangs, and again his processor wondered.

"Dear, Primus," he swallowed the moan.

How would it feel to skim his glossa across those venom-sweet incisors? Or just run a servo along those two spider legs that ran from her back? Would it tickle her? How would it feel just to put her cheekplate in his palm, stroke her with the other, and look into her optics without knowing the insults were coming? To look into her optics without a fear or a groan or a rebuttal. Just to look into her many optics and be in love.

He melted.

He knew what it would be. Heaven.

"Well, well, well…"

A voice. A femme's.

"Oh, slag," he breathed.

Starscream's spark skipped at the sound of her voice, his gaze widening at her. Blackarachnia stared back, hopping from her perch onto her heels. Her blood red optics slitted at him whilst she ambled over to him, her arms crossing themselves against her chestplate.

The jet's spark beat harder and harder, faster and faster with every inch she moved closer to him. Blackarachnia leaned in towards him, her mouth fixed in a frown.

"Look who we have here," her deep voice murmured. Her claw gripped his shoulder tightly. "Starscream…You little - "

"Get your servo off of my shoulder," the jet interjected, his optics flaring.

The femmebot hissed, jolting forward until her front chassis leaned against his. The move sent Starscream's EPM skyrocketing, his back and wings flat against the wall. Blackarachnia had her two spider legs prepared, ready to strike the mech's neck and spew venom into his circuits…But, something stopped her.

"What the…" she hushed herself.

With her brow furrowed softly, she stole a glance at her chestplate, finding it pressed against the gold paned cockpit at the center of Starscream's chestplate. Beneath the cockpit's interior lay the jet's thrumming spark, its powerful hums of energy resonating intensely, vibrating the framework of the golden panes. Blackarachnia felt every hum Starscream's spark at the center of her chestplate – the quickening, thudding thumps.

Blackarachnia slowly looked up to Starscream's faceplate, her optics narrowing.

"What's your malfunction?" she whispered.

The jet's scarlet optics widened. She caught him. "There's nothing wrong with me!"

The femme's optics slitted. Her mouth curved. "You're hiding something." A claw rested on the nape of his collar, fingers walking up to the base of his jawline. "What is it?"

Seductiveness had to get him talking…

But, no. Every word hitched in Starscream's throat as he could watch the femme's digits fondle with his neck's alloy. She stroked the metal oh-so lightly, so tenderly, only inclining his thrumming sparkbeat further. He tried to put on a serious look about his features, he really did. He knew he only looked like a fool.

"Get off of me at once," the jet stipulated, his trembling servos barely pushing against Blackarachnia's stomach plating. His optics glowered. "I'll make sure I report to Megatron of your harassment to his second in command!"

She scoffed. "Do it! He won't take your word anyways," she hissed lowly, her claws digging into his cheekplate. "He never believes a word you say."

"That's a lie."

She didn't care. "So, what is it?"

Starscream glared. "What - "

"Don't you play coy with me," she interjected with her claws latching to her hips. Her scarlet optics looked to his spark chamber. "Your spark…"

Starscream hesitated to come up with the proper response. Noises stuttered from his vocalizer. His servos fluttered in awkward gesture. "I-It's always like that."

"You stuttered." She smiled.

He froze. "I-I did not!"

"And you just did a second time."

The jet huffed. "It's a habit."

Blackarachnia rolled her optics. "Listen, you either have some sort of bizarre malfunction, or you're lying," the femme continued, ignoring his comment. "You're lying to cover up something." Her optics upturned skeptically, and perhaps a little enticingly, into her fellow Decepticon's gaze, who was now staring at her in wide fear.

Starscream stuttered again. "I-I am not!" he insisted.

"You're scared."

"No!"

"Nervous."

"No!!"

"Shy," she spoke the word smoothly, leaning closer, further into his personal space.

Starscream pressed his wing struts against the wall, a hesitation. "For the final time, no! I do not have a malfunction a-and - "

"So, you're telling me that you are, in fact, hiding away your timidity."

The jet-former seethed, clutching his servos to fists. "No! I am not implying anything."

"You hesitated on that last bit I spoke to you. You were so quick to snap no on the others." She smiled cunningly, giggling lowly. "I've got you in a trap, Starscream. I've got you."

Starscream blinked. "Maybe I hesitated, because you entered your filthy techno-organic frame right into my personal space!"

Blackarachnia lurched forward, hissing, baring her razor-sharp fangs right before his faceplate. A heated glint flared in both pairs of her scarlet optics as she watched the 'Con recoil back in fear. He quickly straightened himself up, replacing his cowardice with a newfound irritation.

"Oh, slag off, woman."

She slitted her optics. "Admit to me."

Perplexity played across Starscream's features. "Admit what?"

"You're shy."

An irritated groan. "Again, I told you, I am not shy around you! Why would I be shy around such an unsuitable Decepticon. Such a techno-organic freak."

Blackarachnia let the supposed disses fly right by her. She leaned even closer to him, close enough until her front chassis pressed against his chestplate. She glowered. "Then explain exactly why you were gawking at me while I tended to my monitor duty. Hmm? What was that all about, lover-bot?"

Perfect. What to say to this? During the long while Starscream struggled to render the proper response that wouldn't land him in deep slag, his spark began thudding again. Primus, she looked beautiful when she was angry like that. Perhaps he needed to be an even bigger pain in her skidplate.

Blackarachnia looked down at his chestplate, snickering. "I knew it."

Starscream gulped. "Mute it. I told you. I-It's always like that."
"Is not."

"Is too."

"No, it isn't."

"How would you know? It's mine," he snapped. "Ha'. There."

"I wasn't protoformed yesterday, you moron. No spark thrums that fast unless you've been drinking some outrageous sort of oil, or you have a major malfunction in your systems. Orrrr…you're shy." She giggled.

"For the last and final time, I tell you, there is nothing wrong with my systems, and I am not shy! My spark is always like that! I am not hiding anything away from you, and that's - "

His words hitched, against his own will. He didn't stop talking on his own, something made him. But, what was it?

It was during this thought when he noticed he had his optics shut tight – it was a reaction to whatever had his words trapped in his throat. He opened and flickered them to see a sight he knew had to be some sort of optical illusion, a fantasy in a daydream, or just a miracle.

The femmebot had her lips pressed against his, her arms flung around his neck. Her optics were closed, his held a wide, incredulous gaze at her faceplate – her beautiful faceplate. A noise, unrecognizable, moaned from his vocalizer and she felt this, opening her four optics to look up at him. The femme smiled at him.

Starscream parted his lips from hers, breathing heavily. "What in the Universe?!"

She kissed him again, passionate, deep, then pulled away. "Shut up and kiss me."

It was an offer he couldn't refuse. For once, he didn't retort with witty comebacks and heated rebuttal. He simply moved his arms around her slender waistline, drawing her tight against his front chassis. Her claws delicately played teasing strokes along the angularity of his wing struts, caressing their smooth alloy and broad framework. Starscream smiled inwardly with a gentle chuckle whilst he kissed her. The feeling, it was unutterable.

He couldn't believe this was happening, and still, his processor convinced him it was certainly a dream. It was certainly too good to be true.

The femme admitted. She loved irritating the living slag out of him. What could she say? He looked adorable when he tried to be so serious, and even cuter when he cowered back in fear at her hisses. He looked so innocent then. Annoying him to the point where he circuits were nearing a fry was her job. She wouldn't trade it for the Allspark.

Primus, he was a great kisser. Who would've known? He moved a servo behind her head, stilling it as he tilted his a little to the left, positioning his mouth in such a way to enable the most passionate kiss ever. She moaned, and he echoed, his other servo working magic to the techno-organic prongs that arched from her back. Slowly, his servo climbed it, his digits walking up, up, up. He fondled at the tip. She shivered in his arms, he held her tighter.

"Mmmm," the low sound left her.

Starscream opened his optics to look at her as he felt the kiss cease. The femme was only moving her mouth to the nape of his neck, nibbling her fangs against the metal. Starscream shuddered, stammering out a groan, subconsciously kissing the top of her helm. Blackarachnia was driven to nibble harder, quicker along the structure of his neck.

Finally, she stopped and looked up at him. A sly smile took form on her lips, took form on the mouth Starscream wanted to so ever passionately kiss again. She took his servo and began leading him from the wall. She giggled seductively.

"How about we head to my quarters and…'recharge' a little, hmm?" she murmured lowly. "How's that sound, lover-bot?"

Starscream felt his spark thud again. He found himself nodding. Suddenly, he paused. "B-But, your monitor duty?" he stammered, walking forward at once as she tugged him along.

"Oh', that can wait. Besides," with one powerful tug, the jet-former stumbled forward to her side. His optics met hers, and with a final giggle, she whispered lowly by his audio with a tap against his chestplate, "I've got you to monitor now."