Focus of the Sun, Sunstreaker-centric fanfic
Title: Focus of the Sun
Universe: loosely G1 cartoon.
Rating: PG-13 for language and implications.
Pairing: None yet. References to Blaster/Sunstreaker and Bluestreak/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker. Jazz/Prowl speculated.
Author's Notes: Sunstreaker has to deal with survivor's guilt, which has evolved into a crush on a mech who has been in stasis awaiting rebuild. This was brewing for a while, and nearly ready for January's First Times challenge at Mecha_Erotica, but needed more time. Rusty Chevy (aka SpaceHappy at DeviantArt) provided invaluable beta and encouragement. As always, if you recognize it from canon, it's not mine. 2800 words.
There's a first time for everything, Bro'. Sideswipe's serious words ran through his processor, unbidden. You're used to everybody liking you so you've never known what it is to have a crush on somebody, never had to wonder. All you've had to do is pay a little attention to anyone you found attractive and he was yours. You're spoiled. Sunstreaker hadn't known whether to make it into a joke or take affront and pick a fight, just to have his mind on something else. It was consuming his attention, driving him to distraction. He couldn't even lose himself in his favorite video game: the generic non-player characters all morphed too easily into the object of his fascination, taunting him in the corner of his optic, gone when he looked squarely at the images. He had settled for giving his twin a caustic look, then thrown the game controller down and stalked off to the galley.
Fragger, his logical self accused, halfway through his second serving of high-grade, He doesn't know you exist. Doesn't know your name, Sunstreaker. Get a grip! He could have died because of you, you piece of slag! He's not going to want a thing to do with you. Primus! What would you offer him, anyway, outside of a trip to the plate? He would've done the same for any Autobot. He doesn't know you, doesn't think you special, doesn't think of you at all. He took a long draw on his energon, watching the Ark common room from a corner. Whenever anyone glanced in his direction, he scowled, trying to tell them to stay away with just his look. He had taken in enough high-test fuel to expect a relaxing buzz in his systems; instead he was getting more agitated. No, he thought in his own defense, He should. I am special. I have the sexiest alt-mode on the planet. It even sounds good: I'm a Lamborghini Countach. The handsomest root-mode goes without saying! I'm a work of art, Cybertronian OR human. He would be crazy to turn me down. Everybody thinks so. Everybody wants me! I bet I could have any mech around. Every slagging one of them. Even ... Prowl himself! If I put my processor to it. Trailbreaker, even. Mirage. Jazz wouldn't stand a chance against me - Blaster surely didn't and everyone thinks they're two rounds in a magazine. He watched Blaster and Wheeljack put their empty containers in the recycle bin and leave, deep in conversation about some new communication booster. Blaster... is not as good as he thinks he is... The only mechs left from the mid-day turnover drew his attention. Even that worthless whining Mini-bot, Gears! Even he wouldn't be able to find anything wrong with some quality time in my berth. He watched as Cliffjumper and Brawn coaxed the subject King of Complaint out of the galley, talking about a drive in the sun: the little slagger was lamenting the effect of sunlight on his upholstery and driving on his joints. Sunstreaker shook his head at the thought. I'd have to tear his vocalizer out first. Then there'd be no real proof he enjoyed it. Cliffjumper ran on ahead of Brawn and Gears; Brawn shoved Gears. Sunstreaker leaned back in his seat, watching and expecting a bit of a brawl between the Minibots. Gears just complained about the rough handling and its effect on his finish. Glitch has to shut up sometime. I could make him shut up. Just one kiss is all it would take, he thought smugly, and averted his optics to his cube of energon when it felt like he was caught staring.
"What's your problem?" Gears demanded.
"You." Sunstreaker answered automatically, glaring.
"C'mon Gears, let's go!" Cliffjumper exhorted him from the exit. Brawn shoved him again. Gears' attention returned to the rough-housing of the other Minibots and the trio left.
Sunstreaker lost himself in his high-grade for a while, wondering if the quiet in the galley compared to the quiet of stasis. So many in stasis, he thought grimly, I am lucky it isn't me. Or Sides. He was just trying to motivate himself to get up and get another refill when Sideswipe walked in with Bluestreak.
"-out of medical today I heard Ratchet tell Prowl when I was in there earlier. He looks really good too-" the pair slid onto the bench across the table from Sunstreaker and Bluestreak kept talking, "-we were there when Swoop put the last of the plating on he really did a good job I just hope the transformation sequence works out right Wheeljack had a hand in it." He paused to watch Sideswipe pick up Sunstreaker's empty cube, giving his twin a pointed look to indicate he knew the residue was not the sustenance grade. Bluestreak caught Sunstreaker's optics and dimmed his knowingly. He had the courtesy to lower the volume of his vocalizer in case others came in. "Oh you've been thinking about him again haven't you? The wait is nearly over I think after they power his systems and check him out Swoop will bring him here to fuel up and socialize and test his gyros and motivity by walking and talking. You know Prowl said he asked about you when they last communicated with him so I think you won't have to even be very nice to him to get his attention you've already-"
Sunstreaker was reluctantly processing Bluestreak's rambling and cut him off, "Swoop will bring him here?" He looked sharply at Bluestreak, still processing. Then, without leaving an opening for Bluestreak to begin to answer, "He asked about me?" Energon swirled uncomfortably in his holding tank.
Sideswipe smirked. Sunstreaker gave his brother a look that should have peeled his paint. Sideswipe took the empty cube and got up to go to the dispenser. Bluestreak answered him and he returned his attention to the loquacious mech.
"Yes he did Prowl said when they brought him on-line to ask him questions he asked about you even before he registered his own condition-"
Sunstreaker felt his pumps skip a cycle and begin to run a little roughly.
Bluestreak didn't miss a beat, "-and I said you probably didn't even know he knew your name and Prowl said everybody knows your name. Do you think everybody knows your name Sunstreaker because I don't think that's really possible maybe every mech on Earth knows your name but not everybody on Earth and not everybody on Cybertron especially with us out of action for fifty thousand vorn? I'm sure even people who knew your name back then have had to purge some files by-"
Sideswipe returned with three cubes of sustenance energon, causing Bluestreak to interrupt himself. "Thanks Sides!" he said, claiming the offered container but not picking it up to drink. He resumed what he was saying. The brothers exchanged a look. "-even they've had to purge some files by now and have let you go-" he seemed to realize he was saying something that might be an insult to Sunstreaker's vanity, "-because to remember perfection and believe you'll never see it again has to be worse than forgetting you've ever seen it." He stopped and took a drink of his fuel, making eye contact with Sideswipe, who smiled a small smile for him and picked up the original train of thought.
"Blue's trying to say that he thought about you before himself and that has to be a good sign. You really should talk to him when you get a chance, at least let him know you're grateful for what he did."
Sunstreaker couldn't help himself, he had to protest that, "I didn't need him to do anything. I had those Crows right where I wanted them!"
Bluestreak laughed a little and tried to hide it by taking a sip of his energon. Sideswipe laughed openly because he knew he could get by with it and was tired of dancing around the topic with his brother. "Uh-huh. I was there, Bro' and I saw it: he saved your life two or three times, depending on whether or not you credit him with taking the last hit for both of you."
"No fraggin' way Sides. I'd have been just fine wi-"
"I was there! Remember? Or have all your processors turned to sludge thinking about him? You might not have died from just one of them, but you wouldn't have got up to fight anymore after any of the crashes he saved you from. You'd have been a stationary target then, and you know what your chances would have been. Primus, Sunny! I feel like I owe him my thanks, too, not only for saving your aft but for keeping you in the fight so I didn't have to take three Seekers by myself." Bluestreak wisely refrained from comment. Sunstreaker glared at Sideswipe; Sideswipe glared back, tired of watching Sunstreaker glower moodily. He didn't mind his brother being surly or unpleasant - Sunstreaker usually derived perverse pleasure from being both surly and unpleasant and making other 'Bots uncomfortable, pushing their buttons when he could. He minded Sunstreaker being moody, being surly and unpleasant because he was distracted by something he didn't want to talk about, unable to enjoy the things he normally did. Before Sunstreaker could come up with an argument, Sideswipe went on, vocalizing quietly but sharply, "Be straight with me: how many times did you go to talk to Prime, trying to pressure him to authorize the rebuild?"
Sunstreaker hadn't known his twin knew about that. He denied it: "What the-? No, Sides, I didn't go see Prime."
"Primus fraggit Bro'! Don't slag me. I know you did. If not Prime, then Prowl."
Bluestreak looked shocked by the thought of Sunstreaker willingly seeking out either the executive officer or the commander. "If you spoke with them you should've talked to Jazz he never gives bad advice I'd trust anything he told me and he knows all about it."
Sunstreaker leaned forward on the table, optic-to-optic with Bluestreak. "I don't think so, Blue. Jazz is a great bot but anybody who'd hold out hope for Prowl all this time can't be operating on a full charge. I mean, Prowl. What is there to draw a 'Bot like Jazz to that? No way."
Bluestreak didn't hesitate: "Wings Sunny the same thing that lets me hold your attention."
Sideswipe spoke at the same time: "There's more to Prowl than anyone but Jazz sees, Bro', trust me."
Sunstreaker chose to ignore his crazy brother: he knew Sideswipe had spent an inordinate amount of time with Jazz one week when he and Prowl were both out of commission but there was such a thing as too much information where the XO was concerned. He answered Bluestreak, hoping to steer the conversation away from his trouble and on to something fun, namely the subject of Bluestreak's doorwings. "Really, Blue? Because I think we pay attention to your wings to get you going." Bluestreak was listening; Sunstreaker glanced around to verify the area was still empty. "All it takes is one of us focused on each winglet," he went for his most sensuous tone, "or even one of us holding you and the other-" Sunstreaker turned his engine over as completion of the thought, a powerful, lusty sound, knowing Bluestreak enjoyed it. He watched Bluestreak dim his optics and was almost ready to drag the two mechs across from him back to the room he and Sideswipe shared when Sideswipe sent his CPU directly back to the subject of his obsession.
"Wings!" Sideswipe said, "That's it, isn't it? Anybody else around here and you'd be in your element: four wheels, a hood and trunk, doors to play with, headlights. Nothing special to draw your attention, you just wait and see if they take interest. But he's different enough that you're intrigued. And he saved your life so you don't know how to act. You're nervous."
"I am not fragging nervous! I am not 'intrigued' on anyone. I don't even know what in the Pit that means." He downed his remaining energon and stood up, "I just want to-" take Blue back to our room and forget about everyone else, he was going to say.
Sideswipe cut him off. "Oh yeah, Bro'? Prove it. Speak his name without a hitch in your vocalizer." Sunstreaker turned immediately to his brother, taken aback at the oddity of that demand. "Really. I'll believe you when you can do that, just say his name, Sunny. Two words. Say his fraggin' name."
He opened his mouth to say it and make his pit-spawn brother shut up about it when the object of his fixation limped through the entrance. Even though the shell was completely new, Sunstreaker knew him, saw him out of the corner of his optic and turned to look, just as he had while playing the video game. His optics were drawn to the unfamiliar but recognizable form of the mech who had been in stasis since saving him, the mech who did not hesitate to put the yellow plating ahead of his own despite the fact that they had never really met before that battle. He felt like his intakes closed, his processors stopped, his fuel pump shut down. He forgot what he was supposed to say, forgot who he was supposed to say it to.
Supported by Swoop on one side, the recently rebuilt bot made optic contact with Sunstreaker from the doorway. He smiled and greeted him, sounding relieved, "Sunstreaker! It's good to see you." The medic he was leaning on guided him slowly in the direction of their table. "They told me everyone was repaired." The others exchanged greetings.
Sunstreaker didn't notice what was said. He didn't know what to do. He wished he were anywhere but there, facing the one he'd been obsessing over for weeks. Serves you right, that annoying, logical part of his mind condescended, you've put every lover you've ever taken on the spot, called them out in front of their friends, in front of your brother so you could laugh about it later whether it went well or not. Now what are you going to do? He forced air through his cooling system. Sideswipe chuckled. Bluestreak elbowed the red twin and offered an encouraging look that Sunstreaker registered in his peripheral vision. He whispered the mech's name and felt a great relief: his systems all started back up, maybe not running normally but running again, cooling him and fueling him and actively processing stimuli. He couldn't help but smile. He tried to sound normal. "You piece of slag! You weren't even good for spare parts, the last time I saw you. How's the new frame shaping up?" Primus! He looks even better than I remember. And his wings... Sunstreaker suppressed a shudder, consciously keeping his optics on the mech's face, unable to even register Swoop or Sideswipe or Bluestreak: they didn't exist for him in that instant.
Swoop grinned and carefully guided his patient to Sunstreaker's table, stabilizing him as he awkwardly held his right hand out to Sunstreaker in greeting.
Sunstreaker returned the gesture, wondering if the mech before him remembered that or had already re-learned it, no way to know how much of his databanks had been saved. He noted the hand and forearm were proportioned as before but just a few percent larger now. "It will take some time to grow accustomed to it," the recovering bot answered him, "but Swoop and Ratchet saved my life," he lowered his head and looked shyly at the Dinobot, "and I'm grateful." Sunstreaker registered the expression that passed the new faceplates and immediately thought it must be similar to his own look.
He released his crush's hand and averted his optics to the table. His vocalizer worked, muttering some inane words of thanks, introducing his brother and their friend, and making a lame excuse to leave the galley. Sideswipe looked smug. Bluestreak looked disappointed.
Sunstreaker realized when he hit the door to his quarters that he had run away.
As he sulked, waiting for Bluestreak and Sideswipe to come down to cajole and console him, he realized what he was feeling now: I'm jealous! He looks at that stupid Dinobot the way I want him to look at me. I am a pathetic waste of energon. And a coward! I will not compete for attention. I am so much better than- he couldn't allow himself to finish that thought. Swoop carried both of us off that battlefield and did most of his rebuild. But I've never had to compete for anyone's attention before!
His brother's words flashed through his CPU and he felt as if his spark burned a little hotter: There's a first time for everything.
-:-As of 08MAR2008, this has a prequel: Love Shared Is Multiplied.-:-
-:-And if you've read that one, it has another prequel as of 13APR2008: What Moves the Sun happens after Love Shared Is Multiplied and before Focus of the Sun.