Horny Solarflare
Featuring Sunstreaker

The wind blowing off the lake caught the edge of Solarflare’s scarf and blew it gently across her face. She clutched at the rail, looking down and out at the pristine waters; she sighed softly and leaned forward. She knew how important Mirage’s trips to Cybertron were, now that peace had finally settled about the Universe. They had agreed that he make long journeys alone to recalibrate his long-lost fortunes, as well as oversee the construction of their new Tower estate.

“If anyone approaches you – I don’t care who – take them up on it. You shouldn’t be alone, Alina,” he had said so many moons ago, when he first left with Grapple and Hoist.

She had looked at him, a twinge of her fading humanity conjuring up images of his old past, of his wild days and thin, lanky femmes. “And you?”

He took her by the waist, laying his lips to her neck. “If you don’t want to, I won’t. We pledged equality. But remember, you are the one I am coming home to; no one will hold me down if I don’t want them to.”

In the end, she agreed to the arrangement, but approached no one, though her nights were decidedly colder.

“Tell me,” a familiar voice declared, “why do you continue to wear those slaggin’ scarves? I thought you gave up your humanity vons ago.”

Flare lifted her head and turned around to see Sunstreaker standing behind her, his beefy hands planted on his tiny hips. “Call it a fashion statement, Sunshine,” she retorted with half of her old humor. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

He sniffed and walked forward with his usual self-assured stride to stop by her side. “I came up to cannibalize more of Teletraan’s old parts. What about you? Tryin’ to drown your sorrows?” The melee warrior sniffed louder, more emphatically. “I told you, time and again, baby, he ain’t worth it.”

She gave him a wry smile and turned around, wings and crest low. “And I told you, Sunny, you can’t have me.”

A paw the size of her head folded around her upper arm, right under her strut. Sunstreaker whirled her around until she was facing him. “I don’t want you,” he growled. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t use you for a while, while he’s gone.”

Outraged, she tore herself out of his grasp. “How dare you,” she hissed, crest flat.

Sunstreaker planted his fists on his hips, towering over her. “Okay, so my romance factor is in the negatives. Listen, Flare, your playboy let it slip about your arrangement to a few of us he knows you’re close to. I can’t use any nice words, but I’m saying if you want to have a quick interface –” and he mimed the human equivalent with a fist and palm “—then I’m your mech. If not, rot cold while he’s away.” A feral grin split his classic face. “Besides, once you do me, you’ll never want him again.”

As Flare looked at him, the raw edge of desire began to gnaw at the back of her cortex. For the first time, she took Sunny in – not as a friend and comrade – but as whatever lowlife on Cybertron might have done. The melee warrior quirked his lip components in a self-satisfied manner, knowing fully well that she was cataloguing his high points and low points. He preened on the spot, turning so that the sun reflected nicely off his golden armor plating.

Dropping her optics, she looked over her shoulder at the tail end of the scarf blowing in the warm summer breeze. When she looked back up, Sunstreaker was looming over her. “Last chance, baby. I ain’t asking you again.”

Biting her lip, Solarflare smiled. “You always ask.”

“But that’s playing. This is serious.”

She felt her hands rising of their own accord, to brush across Sunstreaker’s chest. The smirk he wore was slowly slipping into something different – tender? “Are you ever serious, Sunny?”

“Maybe. You just don’t know me that well.”

A low purr started in the back of Flare’s throat and reached outwards, slowly vibrating the tips of her struts. “I think I do.”

With a grunt, Sunstreaker lifted her off the ground and deftly wrapped her pyramidal legs around his waist before propping her tail end against the railing. “Enough talk, bitch.” He wasn’t prepared for her reaction; alone, the tension in her body had built up so that she attacked him as a powerful formel, raking her talons deep along his shoulders the instant their lips touched. Flare surprised herself with the sheer force of her pent-up ardor, forgetting everything but the way his hands clutched at her waist, at her tail, the way he simply drove himself into her mind.

Their unique vibrations rattled along their bodies, across to each other. Sunny crushed her pelvis to his own groin guard, pulling a thick cord from a compartment at his waist. Metal scraped and screamed as sharp points and round curves mashed over and over again. His hands crawled over her body, searching for the corresponding port that would allow the most deep of connections two Transformers could ever have, short of spark-bonding. Finding it in short time – he was a pro – Sunstreaker slammed the cord home, pushing both he and Flare over the edge, and on their way to peace.