Title: One Night
Rated: R
Warnings: Gay mech sex (bonding)
Pairing: Cliffjumper/Mirage
Summary: TFA AU. Cliffjumper comes to pay a visit with Crystal City's lead informative after nine years of separation. Awkward things are bound to pop up.
A/N: There's a semi-long story behind this. First off, I had challenged midydoof to draw a picture of her version of TFA Mirage to One Night in Bangkok by Murray Head and in return, I would write her fic. She delivered, she delivered so good (see "TFA: Your move" at her dA gallery.) So this fic may not be viewed as an entire accompanying piece to the song more than it is the picture, but there's a chunk of dialogue exchange that might sound familiar if you know the lyrics. ;) I know nothing about chess and since it's a human game, I just made some simple shit up and called it "chessix," hurp. This fic takes place in an AU 10 years after the end of TFA S3 with Megatron still in captivity, but Decepticon activity still going strong. Oh Lord NOTES SO MANY NOTES SO MANY WORDS.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

When Cliffjumper first laid optics on Mirage, he knew he'd hate him.

Magnus had called Cliffjumper into his office on short notice one evening a little over nine years ago. When Decepticon trouble was brewing again, rearing its ugly head after years of dormancy. The little red Autobot did not know why his service was needed, but he did not question his superior's order.

"Sir," Cliffjumper spoke to the camera on the door, "Cliffjumper reporting."

"Come in," Magnus's voice replied over the screen.

There came the quiet clicks and clonks of bolts and locks opening. Cliffjumper watched the doors spread, shadows parting as soft light from within washed over his chassis. He stepped inside, posture firm, straight, arms behind his back, physically showing respect to his commander. As soon as the doors shut and locked behind him, Cliffjumper rose his gaze and instead of meeting with Magnus, he was looking upon another mech. One he had never seen before.

The stranger had turned his head and met Cliffjumper's optics at the exact moment. The slight surprise surpassed, replaced with subtle irritation manifesting in a straight frown, when he saw this mech's optics were purple. A neutral. To Cliffjumper, neutrals were just as worthless and troublesome as Decepticons. If they weren't willing to fight for their freedom, they served no purpose on Cybertron.

It didn't take long for Cliffjumper to realize just why this mech was a neutral. His design, his chassis, it all made sense. He was a regal 'bot, high class in not only his appearance, but by the mere energy he released. Everything about this stranger read "classy," and among Decepticons and traitors, Cliffjumper hated rich snobs. From experience, all they cared about were their own little, rich and luxurious lifestyles, barely lifting a finger to help their "brothers" in arms. As long as their happy little bubble never popped, they could care less about this war, the lives less fortunate than they.

Magnus stood, and Cliffjumper snapped out of his daze. The blue and white mech stood, alerted, alongside the older Autobot. "Cliffjumper," Magnus said, "I'd like to introduce you to Mirage."

Mirage nodded at the smaller 'bot. "Pleasure is mine," he said and oh he sounded so smug.

Cliffjumper just turned to face Magnus, completely ignoring the rich neutral. A simple nod of recognition would do for someone of his caliber. "You called me, sir?" he inquired.

"Mirage here," Magnus said and rose a hand to the purple eyed mech, "is a new recruit."

The red Autobot widened his optics, despite himself.

"I've been working with him for a few orns now," Magnus explained, "and he has great potential and skill. He will make a fine addition to the Autobot army."

Mirage cleared his throat and placed his hands together. "I recently joined the Autobots," he explained, optics creasing, "when I was... originally a neutral." Cliffjumper tried not to yell "no duh" at the nervous mech. "But after I heard of new Decepticon activity, the Allspark's destruction and... the chaos on the planet Earth..." Mirage rose his optics and looked firmly into Cliffjumper's. The smaller 'bot felt a sudden chill run down his back strut and he twitched. "... I simply cannot stand by and do nothing. Not anymore. So please..." He took something akin to a deep breath and bowed. "... Accept me as a fellow Autobot trainee."

"He will begin training tomorrow," Magnus explained. Mirage stood straight and nodded, slight excitement in those purple optics. Magnus looked back at his silent soldier. "And you will survey his progress."

Cliffjumper's jaw unlocked. "S-Sir?" He didn't care if this newbie wanted to leave behind his old, disgusting lifestyle, he still didn't like the sight of him. He wreaked of a bloated ego and a sense of superiority. "I have only trained one other--"

"These are your orders," Magnus interjected. He knew very well Cliffjumper's disdain for 'bots like Mirage. He knew he hated those who resided in the Towers of Crystal City in general. And perhaps it was this very grudge that made him assign the two as partners. "As I said, training will begin tomorrow at 08:00 solar cycles. I have prepared a regime and schedule for the both of you." The larger Autobot Commander narrowed his optics. "I hope you can rise above certain... obstacles to help ensure Mirage gets proper training."

Cliffjumper winced inwardly. Damn, was he that transparent? He repressed a sigh and saluted, heels clicking together. "As commanded," he said firmly. Mirage smiled and Magnus nodded.

The Autobot commander gestured to his soldier. "I hope you two become well acquainted." He then sat back down. "Now both of you are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," Mirage said happily and gave another little bow. Cliffjumper just nodded and tried his best not to stomp outside in a fury. Mirage blinked at the quiet red 'bot before fleeing after him out into the hall. Cliffjumper did his best to ignore him, but--

"Cliffjumper."

Cliffjumper tensed, froze. He turned and regarded the taller mech with a glare. "What?" he spat lowly. "We do not begin training until tomorrow."

"I-I know," Mirage stuttered. He cleared his vocalizer against a fist. He then extended his right hand, that ever sweet smile back on his handsome faceplates. "I don't think we had much time for proper introductions back in the office. So... Hello, Cliffjumper. I am Mirage. It is a pleasure to meet you," he said kindly.

Cliffjumper scrunched his face, glared Mirage straight in his despicable purple optics before finally letting go. "I hate neutrals," he stated, hands on his hips, "I think they're all lazy cowards." Mirage blinked, hand wavering back. "And I especially hate neutrals from the Towers. All of 'em are selfish scrapheaps." His optics narrowed and he leaned forward, scrutinizing his new companion. "What makes you any different? Why should I cut you slack just because you finally decide to put forth some effort in society?"

Mirage winced. My, this one was rude. But, his honesty was refreshing. Living as Mirage did, everyone showered him with praise, acting like saints and kissing his aft to ensure they earned their own bright, rich future. They were never sincere; all liars. And to see that people like Cliffjumper, who spoke their minds and did not sugar coat everything they said... Mirage couldn't help but smile and it only nerved the smaller 'bot more. "What're you smilin' about? I'm not complimenting you. Though I suspect you'd think I am since everyone you know must..."

The blue and white mech just chuckled softly and shook his head. "I guess I really did mean it when I said it was a pleasure to meet you," he said. Cliffjumper was absolutely baffled, only managing to reply with an agitated glower. "I think, however, I can prove myself as different from all the other Tower citizens you have met. I'm not near as shallow; at least, I don't think so..." Mirage took another deep breath and his smile widened, hand extending confidently again. "So, once more, it's an honor to meet you, Cliffjumper. And I'm glad I'll be working under your command."

This attitude, this reaction to his words, it was not what Cliffjumper had anticipated. Not at all. Mirage was supposed to insult his lifestyle, his beliefs, rub the fact he was a lowly grunt in his face, blow up in a huff, stomp a foot then march back off to his precious little mansion, refusing to join under such "lowly, rude Autobots." But... No, it didn't happen. And Cliffjumper eyed that hand again and for a brief moment, he almost rose to shake it--

"You better be ready tomorrow," Cliffjumper snapped instead. "I'm not going to treat you like a prince just because you're some high class snob. You're gonna get down and dirty, feel pain and know what it's like to bow down to others." And with that, he turned, marching off with his head full of confusion.

Mirage watched him leave. His smile remained. A moment later, his heels clicked together, back went straight and he formed a near perfect salute. "Yes, sir!" he called after his new commander, but Cliffjumper kept walking.

----

NINE YEARS LATER

----

"I hate this place."

Cliffjumper stared long, hard and bitterly at the entrance of Crystal City. Specifically the district known as the Towers. He hadn't been here in nearly ten years and he never wanted to come back. Sure, the city itself was breathtaking; the architecture was amazing and beautiful. No other place on Cybertron was as glorious as Crystal City and the Towers. It was what lived inside this palace that made Cliffjumper sick.

Rotting from the inside, that's what Cliffjumper always said. The people inhabiting this city were all stuck up, smug, greedy little punks. Many of them were neutrals, deeming themselves above the war and affairs of the Autobots. The Autobots, however, were the ones who kept those sniveling prats alive and well fed and spending all their precious credits on waste, when they could be donated to supplying the army or helping to fund the health of the ones who protected their ungrateful hides.

So why the Hell was he here?

Oh, right. Magnus had sent him here on a business trip. To discuss any recent Decepticon activity within Crystal City. With their informative... Cliffjumper felt his spark jump and growled in exasperation. Just... get it over with. Arguing with Magnus had proven futile, so backing out was impossible. Cliffjumper left his spot from the side of the road leading directly into Crystal City, continuing his way into that world of brilliancy.

The beauty itself had not changed. That is, what appeared on the outside. Of course the moment someone like him pulled into its limits, locals had their eyes glued on him with disgust or morbid curiosity. In a swarm of neutrals, an Autobot stood out immediately. And to neutrals, an Autobot was just as bad as a Decepticon. In fact, while en route to his destination, one neutral, a fancy sports car decked out in jewels, swerved dangerously close to him, shouted, "Don't bring your war here, Autobot!" before swinging back safely.

Cliffjumper wanted so badly to rip those tires clean off the mech, remind him thanks to the Autobots, he was still alive, but he continued onward. Lord knows the trouble he'd get in for attacking some lowly opinionated bystander. He didn't even sound more than a few vorns old anyway. Ignorant, arrogant punk. Cliffjumper's engines revved with a small roar but they quieted again, the least amount of aggression he could release without going full blown psycho soldier.

Luckily, Cliffjumper didn't have to deal with more harassment. It was a smooth, quick ride before he arrived at Elysiumonic Tower. Where the Autobot informative of Crystal City resided. It was known only to Magnus and his crew the identity of this spy. Clearly for not only their operations to run smoothly, but to ensure aforementioned spy's safety. It was a dangerous job, and while Cliffjumper wanted to believe Crystal City was a place of ignorant peace, there had been a handful of disruptions and riots and their informative had helped put numerous Decepticons lurking in the city, disguised as neutrals, behind bars.

It was just who their informative was that made Cliffjumper strangely more on edge and reluctant to attend this business meeting.

With his mind hazed, Cliffjumper replied, so to speak, mechanically to all greetings when he stepped into the giant Tower. Posing as a traveling business man, which wasn't entirely a lie, he was guided to what was supposed to be his room. Instead, the clerk took him to the private floor, one no one but a few of the staff, also Autobots under disguise, knew about. Stepping out of the elevator and sending the clerk off, he turned and looked down the hall. The walls were pure crystal with glowing emblems of sapphire orbs planted in streams along the surface.

So damn pompous.

Cliffjumper strode down the hall, that nagging feeling still nipping at his spark and processors. A moment later, he faced a single, securely locked door. He couldn't recall exactly what was said, but knew he was ushered into the room after a brief exchange of words. And what a glorious room it was. There was a window serving as one wall that overlooked the entire basis of Crystal City across the quarters, regal statues and paintings scattered and hanging around the softly glowing room. It was equipped with luxuries Cliffjumper could only dream of, including a giant bar that took up one wall. A desk was smack dab in the middle of the room, decorated with organized piles of datapads and a miniature design of Crystal City in the exact same material.

"Cliffjumper."

The red Autobot rose his head and all that fluttering finally stopped. Standing up from his desk was Mirage. He looked only slightly older, but his classy, regal design and demeanor remained the same. One major difference was the color of his optics: now a stunning azure. The blue and white mech was positively beaming. "It's so nice to see you again," he purred. "It's been megacycles."

"Mirage," Cliffjumper replied with a nod and small cough. He puffed out his chest. "You look like you've been doing all right." "All right" wasn't even near the word he wanted to use. "Privileged," maybe. At least Mirage got to sit behind a desk most of the day, having never known what it was like to be on hands and knees on the battlefield with bullets whizzing inches above your head at all times...

"You look well, too," Mirage said smiling. He walked around his desk, approaching his old superior. He studied the red 'bot for a moment or two and his optics glowed gently. "It's great to see you again. Even that scowl."

Cliffjumper wrinkled his nose. "What scowl--"

"I missed it," Mirage mumbled, embarrassed.

Cliffjumper blinked. His spark twisted and he had to look away. "... Well!" he grunted. No, no, stay calm. "Magnus sent me to gather your recent reports."

Mirage nodded quickly, also slipping out of his admiring daze. "Of course, of course," he said. "But first." He rose a finger and smiled coyly. Cliffjumper arched an optic ridge. "I think we have some catching up to do..." the spy stated before moving to the bar.

"We can catch up later," Cliffjumper scowled. "We've got business to attend to--"

"I was also informed by Magnus," Mirage interrupted again, producing a pair of energon cubes. They were shaped much like wine glasses. "That this was also your mega-vacation." By the sulking expression on the red Autobot's face, Mirage was right. He chuckled and poured some of the finest high grade in both glasses. "There's no need to rush. You're to report back to base in three orns."

"Well, unlike you," Cliffjumper hissed, "I don't like mingling business with pleasure."

The blue and white mech just shook his head, still smiling. He walked back to his comrade, offering him a glass. "This is purely pleasure right now," Mirage said smoothly and it made Cliffjumper shift again.

Cliffjumper pushed the glass back. "Sorry," he grumbled, "I don't drink on the job."

Ah, it was hopeless. Mirage just sighed; still, his smile did not waver. "You're right," he agreed, ashamed. He placed the spare glass on a nearby table, looking at his with disappointment. However, it didn't last long. "Well then!" Mirage rose his head again and stepped aside, gesturing to his desk. "Shall we get down to business?"

"Of course," Cliffjumper mumbled and swept past the taller mech.

----

"... But so far, it's been pretty smooth navigating."

Cliffjumper finished overlooking the reports. Mirage watched him, awaiting a reaction. Hopefully approval. They had been discussing recent Decepticon activity around and inside the Towers and Crystal City for nearly an hour now. Cliffjumper had been quiet most of the time, soaking all Mirage had to say in. Now was where he either approved or insisted Mirage was still a novice at his job. So with his hands bridged together, watching the smaller 'bot carefully, anxiously, Mirage hoped it was the former.

"Any questions?" Mirage asked, hoping to evoke something out of the silent mech.

Cliffjumper finally lifted his optics from the datapads. "Magnus will be glad to see these," he stated. Immediately Mirage smiled widely before slouching back in his chair. He swore he was going to explode from the anticipation. It was hard for Cliffjumper, and even if he wanted to bite his glossa and just leave, he composed himself nearly too stiff and said forcefully, "You're doing good. We're... all impressed with your work. Magnus especially."

Despite the shoving of words, it was sincere. Mirage knew this much. His spark skipped a beat and the smile he made also caused Cliffjumper's to give a little jolt. "I am... so happy to hear that," Mirage retorted, struggling to remain modest. But that smile wormed itself back on his face; a dark one, almost a leer. Cliffjumper twitched in his seat. "Now that business is finished... How about we try the pleasure part again?"

Cliffjumper frowned, optics looking aside. "Well, what did you have in mind? I'd like to retire to my quarters soon."

"A drink. Maybe a little conversation? That isn't about work or the war," Mirage suggested. His fingers stretched, just barely brushing the tips of Cliffjumper's. "I promise I won't take up too much of your time."

The smaller mech ripped his hand back. Mirage tried to hide the hurt behind his smile, but it weakened either way. "I suppose I can have one drink," Cliffjumper grumbled, hands settling in his lap.

That grin returned strong again. "Glad to hear it," Mirage said softly and gathered to his feet. Cliffjumper took the datapads again as Mirage moved back to the bar, preparing two fresh glasses. "How have you been doing outside of business?" he conversed. "I mean..." His optics dimmed slightly. "You haven't contacted me in nine megacycles. Not once, really."

"I work," Cliffjumper answered, "and that's it." Mirage stared at the purple energon, watching it bubble as he poured it into the glasses. His silence unnerved Cliffjumper who looked back at him curiously. "And... you?" Well, he didn't know what else to say.

Light reappeared in Mirage's optics. "Hmm? Ah, well, the usual, really. Working as well, attending a few meetings outside of my... second job," he chortled. Gathering up the two glasses, he returned to his desk, offering Cliffjumper his drink. This time the red mech took it with a thankful nod, watching over the glass as Mirage took his seat again. "I'm still considered a neutral amongst society. Got to keep up with my other appearance and work. You know, the unimportant, non-beneficial stuff," Mirage taunted with that playful little grin.

Cliffjumper snorted. Whatever. "Don't forget: being an Autobot takes priority over everything else," he insisted firmly.

"Oh, I know," Mirage agreed. He held out his glass to the puzzled red 'bot. "Shall we toast then? To the Autobots?" His optics seemed to curl into smiles. "To our reunion?"

"The Autobots," Cliffjumper said. Mirage felt slight disappointment but kept it tucked away.

Mirage replied, "To the Autobots then."

Both mechs rose their glasses, letting them click together before taking a swallow. Cliffjumper took a rather long one. "You haven't had high grade in a long time, I see," Mirage laughed.

"Back at base, we can't afford this rich stuff, you know," Cliffjumper muttered. He took another drink, nearly downing the entire thing.

"Well, I've got enough, so don't drink like it'll be your last," Mirage assured. "I'll give you a few bottles to take back with you. I'm sure your new Elite Guard unit Chromia would like a nice drink every now and then. Especially working alongside Sentinel." Sentinel was one of the things, person both mechs could see eye to eye with; his upstart attitude was kind of irritating.

"They don't need it."

"Well, we'll see."

Silence passed between the two mechs, neither saying a word or attempting to make conversation. This was... somewhat surprising to Cliffjumper. Hadn't Mirage been wanting to talk? And now he wasn't saying a word. Rather the blue and white mech was sipping his high grade, watching Cliffjumper contentedly, but in a way that wasn't too... creepy. Cliffjumper didn't want to talk in the first place, but now that he was stuck here, he didn't want to sit in silence either. With a small fidget, he sighed and said, "You're upset, aren't you?"

Mirage's smile was tender. "A little," he retorted.

Cliffjumper grumbled lowly. "It's been very busy," he mumbled. He took a swig of his drink. "You don't get near as half the slag we do back at base and outside the Towers."

"Nine megacycles."

"I know..." Cliffjumper wilted with begrudging shame. He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not like I forgot about you or anything, but--"

"How about a game?"

The red mech rose his head. Mirage still had that damn oh-so-sweet grin on his handsome faceplates. "Game?" Cliffjumper echoed.

Mirage nodded. Suddenly, with a series of small clicks, all the material and decorations sprawled on the spy's desk locked down securely. The table then flipped over, replaced with the smooth surface of a glowing game board. There were diamond-shape patches in light blue spread along a navy blue surface. "We haven't played in... well, nine megacycles," Mirage chortled as the board softly hummed before producing crystal game pieces on each side of the board. He picked one up, in the shape of an Autobot soldier. "You still remember how to play?"

Cliffjumper snorted. "You know I never liked chessix," he grumbled. He glared at his set of dark silver pieces. "You tried to teach me and it never got anywhere."

"But you learnt how to play regardless. You weren't half as bad as you believed you were," Mirage reassured. He turned the piece in his fingers. "So, how about it? One game is all I ask. And when we're through, I'll have my associates show you to your quarters."

Well, that didn't sound too bad. Maybe if it distracted them from the... awkward atmosphere. Cliffjumper sighed with a low growl, shoulders sinking. "Fine," he scowled and took another swallow of his drink. Mirage went to get him another glass, but the red mech rose a hand. He was being serious when he said one drink. Mirage nodded and understood, sitting back again.

"You remember the rules?"

"A little."

"Want me to re-educate you?"

"No. Especially when you put it that way."

Mirage chuckled. "Then..." He swept a hand over the board, like a king surveying his land. "Your move first."

Cliffjumper hated this damn game. Hated when he had to make the first move. He never understood this game in the first place, and now he was even more rusty. Nonetheless, just get it over with. Cliffjumper pushed his piece forward. And automatically he regretted ever agreeing to play this game when Mirage quickly exploited the mistake and took the pawn. "This entire game is gonna be just like this, you know," Cliffjumper grumbled, resting his head against a hand. He made another move.

"You never know," Mirage replied softly. This time, Mirage was unable to make any offensive move. He moved his own piece forward. It would have continued being a silent game, had Mirage not noticed Cliffjumper occasionally casting gazes over his shoulder. Out the window his optics looked to the beautiful Crystal City. Mirage smirked, pushing a piece up. "Crystal City, a glorious shimmering setting," he mused and Cliffjumper quickly moved his optics onto him, "the creme crème-de-le-crème of Cybertron."

The red Autobot eyed his companion, unsure of what he was getting at. He just made his move. Mirage snatched up his piece and Cliffjumper angrily clenched his fists. Only a few minutes in, and he was going to lose. "Why, time flies, you know. It doesn't seem a minute since these Towers were built to compliment the view. The capitals of Crystal City; their icons," he purred, sitting aside his drink. "When you're here, you know, it's anything but ordinary."

"It's not so different or entirely that special from, say..." Cliffjumper shoved down his piece in a diamond square. "Iacon... Polyhex... Kalis... or... or Kaon, for that matter."

Kaon was a rather nasty shot. "It's not all that terrible. We may have our share of braggarts and snobs, but Crystal City is much more than just pretty lights and high class gentlemechs and femmes," he explained. His hands bridged together as he said fondly, "One night in Crystal City and the entire world of Cybertron is your oyster. The bars are temples, but the pearls... Well." He paused to chuckle. "They're not exactly free, as you can imagine."

"Nothing about this place is cheap," Cliffjumper muttered. "Everyone here is too high maintenance."

"It's a reputation, an image passed down from generations, I'm afraid," Mirage sighed and pushed a piece forward. "But like I said, it's not all that bad. Crystal City has such energy, especially at night. And in every crystalline cloister, you're likely to find some sort of celebrity."

Cliffjumper rolled his optics. "You treat your celebrities here like gods," he spat. His move and he clenched his dental plates when Mirage took another pawn. "This game--"

"In these dark times..." Mirage rolled a wrist, trying to find a way to word himself without sounding offensive. "... Sometimes, and it's not always Crystal City residents, you need a little break. Celebrities here are often seen as light in the darkness. Carefree and entertaining. Almost like, well... angels, as humans say. I suppose." He exhaled loudly when Cliffjumper opened his mouth, most likely to argue or rebuttal angrily. "It's ignorant, I know, but sometimes you need a little hope. Even if it comes through cinemas and music. You understand that much, right?"

Cliffjumper's mouth remained opened, but... If anything, Cybertron really needed hope. He closed his mouth and sat back, sulking. He didn't say anything, rather just moved another pawn forward. If Mirage hadn't made another defensive strike instead of taking his piece, Cliffjumper would explode from insult to injury. Finally, he bustled and sat forward again, rapping his fingers on the board. "Cities are all the same anyway. No matter their appearances. Nothing's different when you're always buried in work, you know."

Mirage nodded sadly. "It really is such a pity," he sighed. "To be consumed by business at all times, never once to look upon the beauty surrounding you." He looked over his shoulder slightly, at the soft glow of a neighbor Tower outside.

"Whatta mean?" Cliffjumper spat. "You see one stinkin' neutral infested town--"

"If you don't want more high grade," Mirage interrupted calmly, "would you prefer some tea?"

Cliffjumper bitterly shook his head. "No, I'm fine and whatever!" he hissed and bashed his pawn on the table. "A tourist attraction is all this city is good for. A place to lose all your inhibitions and just forget about the world and how we're in a deep heap hole. But not for me, no," he insisted, sitting back and folding his arms over his chest. He narrowed his optics. "I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine."

Mirage frowned. "It's true. All cities have their rotten and dirty edges, but that doesn't mean they're all that bad," he argued. He made another defensive attack. "There are good things about Crystal City, if you only look a little deeper beyond the superficial attitudes." He took his glass and another drink. "One night here, the hard mech goes humble. And it all depends on how you wish to look at this city; entirely filth or an illuminating, untouched star. There's not much between despair and ecstasy."

"That so?"

"You have to remember, I have worked the... darker parts of this city. I've seen what it's capable of producing, what all these beautiful lights and jewels hide," Mirage explained firmly. He looked at the dark purple energon, turning the crystal glass amethyst. "If you're in the right place at the right time, you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, and then you'll see... In the seedy parts of the City, even the toughest mechs tumble. You really can never be too careful with your company."

"Chances of Decepticons walking alongside you, posing as neutrals or normal residents? Yeah, no surprise," Cliffjumper mumbled. This time he was able to make a move over Mirage, taking his piece. "But it's good you're admitting this place ain't as grand as everyone assumes it is."

Mirage sat his glass down and studied the board for a moment, contemplating his next move. "And it would be nice if you could see the good in this city as well," he said before making a checkmate. Cliffjumper furiously growled, about to throw down his fists.

"One day, you'll see, Crystal City's carefree obliviousness is going to come crashing down," the red Autobot snapped, pointing a finger. Mirage remained calm, however. "They'll be first hand witnesses at what destruction can do. Megatron may be behind bars, but that doesn't mean the Decepticons have fallen back just yet. Thank Primus I'm all ready prepared for such to happen, in control of my destiny that much. I don't see your fellows worrying about the things Decepticons may be contemplating."

"I fear that may happen one day as well..." Mirage murmured sadly. He pushed a piece forward. "And the idea grips me tightly like a muddy river of acid or reclining Primus. That's why I want to try and wipe out the scum attempting to bring Crystal City down in flames. You may hate this city, but I know you'd hate to see it go to waste. If not for just the..." He paused and looked back at the city outside his windows. "... View. But... I think over time, you'll learn to see the beauty here."

Cliffjumper wrinkled his nose. "The view is..." He paused and looked up. Mirage had turned back into his seat and was smiling so wickedly at his comrade. The red mech sat back, slightly thrown off. "What are you smiling about? You always smile when I'm talking about serious matters!"

"Oh, it's nothing," Mirage purred. He picked up his piece, the royal Primus, that cool grin still on his faceplates. "I was just thinking of the ways I could show you Crystal City's glory. But I'm afraid what we have would not excite you. Our bars, our temples, our palors... But then I remembered..." He rubbed the Primus piece between his digits. "... You did admit you loved one thing about this city. One thing that it produced you can agree with. And while it seems so simple, this... one thing..." He looked to the piece. "... Is at the heart of Crystal City."

Cliffjumper knew exactly what he was talking about. Embarrassment caused his cheekplates to warm instantly and he nervously fidgeted in his seat. "You..." he scowled, biting dental plates together.

"Crystal City's very own Ambassador, of all people," Mirage smirked. "That's whom you love the most. And they happen to be at the head of this city, a manifestation of it one could say."

"Don't..."

"I'm grateful," the blue and white mech laughed softly. "That I'm the one thing you love here." He then took his turn, taking all but one of Cliffjumper's pieces off the board. The red Autobot glared furiously at his loss. His burning optics then rose to meet Mirage, who was still smiling smugly, sitting back in his chair with his Prima piece between two fingers, legs crossed and back straight. The backdrop of the world outside, its towering crystal buildings, its indigo purple skies, its pure power framed Mirage like a portrait.

"Well?" the Tower mech purred. "Your move."

That was it.

"I hate this game!" Cliffjumper snarled and stood to a bolt. Without thought or remorse, he bashed all the pieces off the board, letting them fly wildly across the room. Mirage was only slightly surprised but he didn't have time to form a full reaction. The red mech stormed around the desk, shoved the chair back and grabbed the taller 'bot by an audiol. Mirage widened his optics and grunted when he was yanked roughly forward, only to find his lips slammed against Cliffjumper's, hands cupping his face possessively.

The shock wore off quickly and Mirage moaned loudly into the kiss. His hands flew to Cliffjumper's shoulders, squeezing tightly as he pulled him closer. Desire consumed both Autobots and they held one another, their kiss refusing to break, glossa hungrily devouring one another. Nine years, much too long, those desolate and lonely nine years. Holding back now was impossible. Just as their optics started to dim, Mirage quickly shoved the baffled red mech back and stood.

Cliffjumper was thrust into Mirage's chair now, much bigger and wider than he. Not a second later did Mirage straddle his lap, once again taking those shoulders and planting down another firm kiss. Cliffjumper took it with no complaint, hands sliding up along the blue and white Autobot's back. A full minute later, Mirage drew back, hot air cycled between them as a thin line of coolant kept their lips connected briefly before breaking. "I've been waiting for this all night," Mirage heaved, chassis shaking, "you don't know how long..."

"I think I get the gist of it," Cliffjumper smirked. He dug his fingers against his comrade's chestplates. "You're not entirely alone here."

"Nine megacycles, nine megacycles too long," Mirage whined. His chestplates opened willingly as he took Cliffjumper's face and gave him another kiss. This time it was softer, quicker. "I was beginning to think you forgot about me..."

Cliffjumper chuckled against those frowning lips. "Hey," he snorted, "it's sort of hard to forget about your bondmate, you know."

Mirage felt pure bliss well in his spark. And Cliffjumper saw this when the orb of light revealed itself, glowing like a beacon in the dim room. "It sounds mushy, overly romantic, but..." Mirage nuzzled the tip of his helm against one horn. "... I think about you all the time."

Cliffjumper's cheeks flushed again. His chestplates clicked and unlocked. "Yeah..." he muttered, embarrassed. "... Same here."

Mirage chuckled. "That's a relief," he whispered and gave that same horn a kiss. He looked down, hand pressing over the parting red plating. Cliffjumper winced. "It's been so long since we last did this, I'm afraid..." he murmured, chewing his bottom lip. His gaze shifted to the side; he cowered with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about that," Cliffjumper assured. He was in the same boat. His fingers coiled tightly around Mirage's arms. "What you should be aware of is..." His chestplates opened along with his chamber doors, spark revealing itself. Mirage's optics dazzled reflections of that brilliant ball of energy and blue light. "... I might not be able to hold back."

The blue and white mech was the one blushing now, optics a soft violet. "I..." he hesitated. Mirage laughed and kissed his bondmate. "... Wouldn't want you to anyway."

Cliffjumper leered. "Well, all right then..."

With his hands pressed against the small of Mirage's back, he pulled his bondmate forward, until their sparks crashed. The immediate force of impact caused each orb to release a rush of energy that flooded their systems. Mirage dropped his head back and cried out, fingers denting Cliffjumper's shoulders as they dug into his plating. Cliffjumper growled and grunted, optics squinting as he took the blast full on.

"I missed that," Mirage croaked and hugged Cliffjumper around the neck. He laughed happily. "So much."

Cliffjumper wrapped his arms around the larger mech, squeezing him closer until they were chest to chest, spark to spark. Mirage whimpered and pulled up his knees, planting them against Cliffjumper's thighs. His head dropped down, taking a bite out of one horn.

Cliffjumper groaned and arched forward, sparks once more colliding. "Y-Yeah..." he stammered. "M-Me too." He rose his head; Mirage was towering a few feet above him, but he had perfect access to his throat. Straining his head forward, he bit into one fuel pump, earning another pleasant groan from his partner. Mirage tightened his grasp around him, biting and licking between each horn.

The smaller Autobot rocked Mirage in his arms, letting him sway in his lap and grind body to body. Paint of blue and red flecked their midsections and legs, causing sharp creaking hisses. Mirage was panting hot air expelled from his vents, attempting to cool his warm chassis down. He clung tightly, refusing to let go, afraid this would be it. Once and for all... And Cliffjumper was holding on just as tightly, physically telling him he had nothing to worry about.

A few minutes passed and the build up of energy was becoming more and more apparent. Overload was imminent. "T-Thank you..." Mirage rasped, dropping his head in Cliffjumper's shoulder.

The red mech cracked open an optic. "F-For what?"

"Everything... Training... Visiting me... Talking, playing with me... You hate it all, but you... you're here..." Mirage whispered hoarsely. He rubbed a cheek to the side of his partner's helm. "Despite... me... who I was, am... What I believe... This city... You hate it so much..."

"Well..." Cliffjumper winced. He could hardly hold back. "... I don't hate it as much as you think."

Mirage chuckled. "You're so... hard to read..." he sniggered. His smile relaxed while the rest of his body went tense. "I love that..." He paused, optics opening, violet blue and half lidded. "I love you."

Cliffjumper coughed. Oh, man, he hated getting this sentimental. But... "... M'love you too..." he muttered, own optics turning a slight pink.

Overload came moments later. They held one another, swearing if they embraced any tighter they'd break. Mirage buried his cries into Cliffjumper's shoulder, the red Autobot managing to repress most of his noises into a series of strained groans. The warmth he felt as the excess energy from Mirage's overload washed into his system, it was wonderful. Nine years, nine long years and he had missed this more than anything.

When Cliffjumper first laid optics on Mirage, he thought he'd hate him.

----

THE END

A/N:
Elysiumonic: This is a play off the word Elysium. In Greek mythology, Elysium is a paradise located in the Underworld where soldiers and virtuous spirits are laid to rest. It is said to be filled with fields of gold.
Time measurements: orn = day, megacycle = year, vorn = couple hundred years or so.