Title: Scientific Experimentation
Verse: G1
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sunstreaker, Wheeljack, Bumblebee, Perceptor, Sideswipe; SunstreakerxWheeljack
Word Count: 2,259
Warnings: Mech cursing, Innuendos, Implied slash
Summary: Sunstreaker is fed up with these unanswered questions and sets out to resolve the matter personally.
Notes: I blame
spacehussy for
THIS drawing, which inspired this fic. I also blame
primusatemyleg for encouraging it. I also thank
odd_stick for putting up with me while I wrote it. 8D
Sunstreaker wasn’t sure exactly when or how this had all started and frankly, that in itself was grating on his nerves. Sure, it was one thing to understand how you felt. Which he did. Perfectly. But to not know why you felt the way you did as said feelings began to grow… Well that just pissed him off.
Sitting at an abandoned table in the back of the rec room, Sunstreaker cast a glowering look toward the mech that currently held his interest. Said mech was completely oblivious to the frontliner’s insistent stare as he merely chuckled at one of his companion’s jokes.
Okay. Maybe he needed to make a list of possible reasons for being attracted to… THAT mech. Maybe that would help mentally sort all of this slag out. His glower turning into a puzzled frown, Sunstreaker propped a hand on the table and then dropped his head on it.
Across the room, the mech made a hand motion that seemed to indicate an explosion, head fins flashing in tandem with his unheard words. This gave Sunstreaker the first reason as to why he might be attracted to Wheeljack.
It was that blasted optimism. No matter the situation, the inventor was always cheery and bright. Blew up his lab? He reminded everyone the supports were still standing. Blew off his fingers? Don’t worry, Ratchet keeps extra in his med bay! Decepticons got a hold of his latest invention? No problem! It’ll probably blow up in their faces anyway.
Notably, such an overly happy mech may not be seen as being someone the normally pissed off warrior would be drawn to and if they did, they probably would blame the “opposites attract” law. Here, that was hardly the case. It was more of an “I’ve tried out every gloomy and irritable pretty mech in the entire ark and I’m sick and tired of egos and easily offended pride” law. Considering that the yellow mech had been with Mirage and even Tracks for a short time, it was hardly surprising that he now found their kind extremely repulsive.
Yet still, this didn’t explain his full attraction to Wheeljack. After all, there were a good number of other mechs that shared the engineer’s similar optimistic traits. Bumblebee, Hound, and Bluestreak were several good examples, yet they had not caught his optic in the slightest.
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at Wheeljack from across the room, scrutinizing what could be seen of the other mech’s face. He’d long ago figured out that his attraction had nothing to do with the Lancia’s looks. Not that Wheeljack was ugly. Overall, the inventor was just above average in looks based on the shape of his frame. Of course, his face still remained a mystery and, as with all mysteries on the ark, rumors were sure to run amuck on the subject. In this case, Sunstreaker had heard that underneath the mask Wheeljack was either the most attractive or that he was the ugliest mech ever sparked. The yellow frontliner knew that both were completely ridiculous. Due to what he had silently dubbed his “artist’s perspective,” the yellow mech had drawn a picture in his head of what Wheeljack most likely looked like based on the parts of his face that could be seen. Okay, so he’d also drawn it out physically as well, but that was beside the point. What mattered was that the result was a short, blunt nose and too small optics set on a thin face with sharply angled cheeks. It was an interesting mix of unattractive and attractive features that Sunstreaker wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
The next time that the inventor gestured wildly to his companions, they merely gave him a look of confusion. To further explain his point, Wheeljack brought out a data pad and seemed to try to describe it in simpler terms. The mechs around him then appeared to catch up then, nodding enthusiastically before one seemed to imply that it was sure to blow up, as he shown with another gesture, before the group burst out laughing once more.
That was another trait of Wheeljack’s that Sunstreaker needed to take into consideration: His intelligence. Never before had he ever gone after a fellow Autobot that was even close to that level of processor power, so it was possible that he was beginning to find it a turn on. Yet, with a quick recalling of other mechs that fit in the same category with the engineer, he dismissed the idea. While the majority of the more intelligent mechs on base were rather far from being attractive, there were several that could easily be considered easy on the optics. One of such was Prowl. Though not mechanically or scientifically intelligent, the blasted SIC was smart in every other aspect. He was also a notably shapely slagger and still Sunstreaker had no desire to drag into his berth for either reason. So by that thought, he concluded that processor power had nothing to do with his growing obsession.
For the next cycle or so this went on. Sunstreaker stared at Wheeljack, watching his movements and those of the mechs around him, carefully considering each trait that popped into his processor. Shortly after, he would measure it and then reject it as the cause. It was maddening and over time his considering gaze turned into a full on scowl on the engineer. Of course when Bumblebee, one of the mechs sitting with Wheeljack, glanced over to find the mech shooting that look across the room, he had discreetly yelped and tried warning the engineer across the table from him. Of course, when Wheeljack did glance back to see for himself, Sunstreaker discreetly turned his scowl on an unsuspecting Tracks. Neither mech was the wiser, even as Bumblebee tried to stutter out an excuse.
After several more minutes, the group dispersed in one easy movement, starting as Bluestreak got up to leave for patrol. Notably, the only reason Sunstreaker knew that fact was because his twin was set up for to be the Datsun’s patrol partner. He didn’t envy Sideswipe.
With a wave and a flash of headfins, Wheeljack stood up and left the rec room. Of course, it was when the engineer didn’t so much as glance back at Sunstreaker on his way out, that he realized what it all meant. He liked Wheeljack because the blasted inventor didn’t have any interest in him! At this discovery, the yellow frontliner visibly bristled, denta bared in a silent growl.
Ignoring the curious glances more than one mech shot him, Sunstreaker jerked up from his table and stormed off after the engineer. This he would not stand for.
Okay, so maybe Wheeljack had fudged the truth just a tad when he had bragged that his latest weapon was ready to be put on the front line. Fine. More than a tad.
With a hearty sigh, the engineer weighed the softly glowing weapon in one hand, wondering how long it would take for the radiation coming off of the gun to send him to the med bay. With a shrug, he decided it didn’t actually matter to him and he set back to work making sure it didn’t explode in his face instead.
For a few precious moments, he worked on the dangerous piece of equipment in silence, tightening a bolt, rerouting a wire, and then tinkering with the power source that was responsible for the sickly green glow the rest of the thing was emitting.
Upon hearing his lab doors hiss open, Wheeljack set his work back on the table, turning around with the intent of greeting Perceptor. The surprise was evident even on his masked face when he found that it was a sour looking Sunstreaker who had stepped into the room.
“Oh, well, hey Sunstreaker!” he greeted happily, his surprise turning to become his usual cheer.
“Hey.” The yellow mech replied, optics drawing up and down the engineer’s body in an almost predatory manner.
That mere look had a soft tremor radiated up his arms involuntarily. Brushing it off as an illogical reaction, he maintained the cheer in his voice. “What can I do for you?”
Sunstreaker hesitated a moment, shifting uncertainly on his pedes. If Wheeljack didn’t know any better he would have sworn that he was looking for an excuse.
“Curious.” The yellow frontliner said after a moment. “I’m itching for a new blaster and I wanted to see what you had.”
Wheeljack’s optics flickered in surprise, but instantly felt pride bubble up in his chest. He turned around and picked his newest weapon off of the table behind him. “You came at the perfect time then!” he told him. “While this is still in the prototype stage, it’ll be ready soon enough!”
As the engineer moved toward a rather clean looking table, covered less by spare parts and metal bits than the others, he set it down. Sunstreaker moved toward him easily, settling himself against the edge beside him.
“Tell me about it.” Sunstreaker ordered lightly, making it sound more like a request.
“Well, it’s a revolutionary new concept you see.” Wheeljack began, setting it down in front of the other mech. “While our blasters at this time need to be constantly reloaded with ammo, this one won’t. If you notice the green glow, I’m going to fix that by the way, that’s the power source. While I admit it’s a rather dangerous element to be using, since it’s usually fatal to humans after a few minutes of exposure, it makes for the perfect replacement for traditional power sources!”
Sunstreaker’s optics stayed locked intently on the engineer’s , never once casting even a passing glance to the weapon he spoke of. It seemed he was listening to his words as his attention was certainly not focused elsewhere, yet the he also didn’t seem to be registering his words…
“Go on.” Sunstreaker commanded once more when he paused.
“Oh right, sorry.” Wheeljack said, chuckling softly. “Anyway, the green glowy stuff isn’t just a power source. It’s also the ammo. Now, if I am correct, despite powering the gun and being the source of a plasma like blast, the power source will not need to be changed anymore than a normal blaster battery. You see?”
Sunstreaker made a noise of acknowledgement, but still his optics didn’t waver from the engineer’s face. Frankly, it was a bit unnerving…
“Well… If you want you can try it out…” Wheeljack suggested slowly. He was a bit nervous to allow another to test it so soon since it was still rather dangerous, but at this point he was hoping to get some way to break the frontliner’s gaze.
“Can I?” The yellow mech asked, lips curling up into an impish smile.
“Well… Yeah!” Wheeljack said, firming his own resolve with a grin behind his face mask. “Just try to be gentle of course. If you play with it too much it might go off.”
This time, Sunstreaker’s optics flickered, which was a small victory of its own in Wheeljack’s optics, but still stayed locked on the engineer. “Sounds interesting.”
“Well for a time I suppose…” Wheeljack chuckled lightly. “But only so many premature detonations can occur before it starts to get annoying.”
“Does that happen with a lot of your… Equipment?” Sunstreaker asked, his head tilting ever so slightly.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Wheeljack confirmed, though he was just as much amused by it as most others were.
“I’d like to test that.” Sunstreaker said, optics darkening with an emotion the engineer had trouble identifying.
“Oh, would you?” Wheeljack asked, his winglets arching slightly on his back. “I’ve always wanted someone to help me test my invent-“
Before he could finish his sentence, Sunstreaker struck with a near impossible speed, pinning Wheeljack to the table with his hips. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you?” he whispered, leaning towards his victim.
“Well I… What?” Wheeljack squeaked, more than a little stunned by the strange position that the other mech had him in.
“I want to test your equipment. Experiment with it.” Sunstreaker said, practically purring.
Wheeljack perked up slightly at the thought of having a test partner once more. “Oh, well I’d love it if you did-“
This time the engineer’s words were cut off by his own moan. “Oh. That equipment.” He murmured quietly, optics wide.
Sunstreaker stroked his hand once more over the other mech’s panel, his grin turning mischievous. “Do you still want my help?”
Wheeljack gave a little squeak at the touch. “Y-Yes. Please.”
And Sunstreaker learned just how gentle he had to be before it went off.
In the weeks that passed, many began to wonder at the relationship forming between Wheeljack and Sunstreaker.
Most saw it only as what it appeared to be. Since the only interaction the two had outside of Wheeljack’s lab was when Sunstreaker approached the engineer in the rec room, asking him if he had any more devices for him to test, most thought it was innocent. A bit strange, but innocent none the less.
Of course, those who knew the two better understood more fully what may have been happening behind closed doors.
Perceptor seemed to believe the two had become enamored with each other and enjoyed spending as much time as possible alone.
Sideswipe on the other hand, when asked about his brother’s newfound friend, only burst out laughing and replied with the same line each time. “If that’s what’s you’re calling it, then maybe I should befriend ‘ole Percy.”