"The Decepticons Do The Autobots. FOR PEACE. (Rubber chicken not included.)"
Peace negotiations are a fragile thing. The Decepticons decide to do their part to cement the alliance, and now the Autobots have to come to terms with culture clash, interfacing kinks, and rubber chickens. Jazz can only hope these things aren't somehow connected.
Title: Coming to Terms
Continuity: G1/IDW/WTF AU
HEY - READ THE WARNINGS.
Warnings/Kinks: Physical intimacy (tactile/hardline overloading), Sparkplay, Courtship, Contractual interfacing, Restraint/bondage, General BDSM, Sexual frustration, Consent issue (resolved & unresolved), Culture conflict, Violence, Humiliation, Voyeurism, and (Food?)play. That is the short list. If you can't handle it, don't read it.
Characters/Pairings: All of them. (Jazz/Starscream, Jazz/Vos, Ratchet/Constructicons, Jazz/Ratchet, Optimus Prime/Megatron, Skywarp/Thundercracker, Jazz/Thundercracker/Starscream)
Prompt/Motivation: Setting: "sunrise on the final day of war"Kinkmeme prompts
From TFWiki –
vorn = 83 years
decivorn = 8.3 years
stellar cycle = ~7.5 months
deca-cycle = ~3 weeks
mega-cycle = 93 hours (15.5 joors)
orn = 1 Cybertron day
joor = 6 hours
cycle = 1.25 hours
breem = 8.3 minutes
klik = 1.2 minutes
mechanometer ~ meter
kil ~ kilometer
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And then there was a ceasefire.
When the war began, it'd felt unbelievably strange to be shooting at another mech, even if that mech called himself a Decepticon. Now, as the ceasefire continued on, it felt equally strange not to be shooting at a mech calling himself a Decepticon, even if it was another mech. It was an adjustment they'd have to make. The ceasefire had become an uneasy peace, and the peace was easing through negotiations into an actual treaty. It seemed, unbelievably strange as it felt after so long, that the end of the war was within sight.
So within sight, that having a Decepticon land in front of the Autobots' building inspired caution, not gunshots. Officially, there was a building near the center of what had been Vos that the factions were cautiously co-habiting as headquarters. It had been hastily reconstructed for the business of trying to get along with each other, i.e. hammering out the terms for ending a civil war. Living side-by-side was a nice thought, but nobody on either faction was going to recharge well with the enemy staying on the other side of a flimsy wall. Even if they weren't shooting at each other anymore.
Shared headquarters weren't realistic, not yet, and probably not for a long while despite all the progress made. Technically, neither faction had a base or barracks inside Vos anymore, so they just...'went home' in opposite directions. That 'going home' happened in shifts that happened to coincide with recharge cycles was a convenient coincidence. A very carefully scheduled coincidence.
It was a system that worked alongside the peace progress so long as nobody actually talked about it.
In fact, it'd worked so well that a Decepticon landing outside the unofficial 'home/not-a-base' for the Autobots felt a bit like an invasion of privacy. Although, to be fair, Starscream seemed to know it. He did knock.
No alarms sounded. Nobody grabbed weapons and openly aimed out the windows. However, it was with a definite wariness that Jazz opened the door.
"Whatever you're selling, we don't want any," he said cheerily, scanning the area without looking like it.
The Decepticons really had been on Earth too long. The Seeker twitched, obviously getting the reference to door-to-door salesmen and visibly stifling the need to snap a comeback. Instead, he extended one hand to the smaller Autobot. "For the purpose of ending our Great War," he recited, a phrase that had almost become ritual preface to any interaction between Autobot and Decepticon.
After over six million years of conflict, both sides had recognized the fact that they were taking offense at unintentional slips. Tolerance and tempers were in short supply when mortal enemies were trying to have a conversation, but the negotiations were too important to screw up because somebody said something wrong and caused a snit. The ritual phrase had basically become a catch-all pre-said apology: 'I'm not trying to mess this up. Forgive my blunders.'
Jazz eyed the extended hand and attached Decepticon, but it would have been offensively rude to refuse under the circumstances. Starscream was abiding by the terms of the ceasefire. He'd even knocked instead of barging into the Autobots' unofficial home(not a)base. Jazz trusted the Seeker as far as - no, he didn't trust him at all, really. But.
He reached his own hand forward to clasp the other mech's hand. "For the purpose of ending our Gre - what the slag are you..?"
The Autobot's voice trailed off into a slack-jawed gape when Starscream finished bending in a deep bow over the hand now captured gently in his grip and laid a courteous kiss on the back of it. It was a supremely chaste gesture. Jazz had never been so aware of the back of that hand. Starscream's lips felt as smooth as a finely polished ornament against it, and it finally registered just how good the jet looked. Even for as vain a creature as Starscream, the mirror shine to his plating was remarkable. His wings were held up and out in blatant display, and Terran birds-of-paradise would die of envy for a Vosian flyer's plumage display.
"For the purpose of ending our Great War, I ask that you meet me, alone, by the front gate of the War Academy at dusk," Starscream said, raising his head without straightening so he looked just slightly up into Jazz' wide visor. Low and intimate, the characteristic screech he was known for husked into a pleasing rasp. The sound caught Jazz as much by surprise as the kiss, and it tripped down his back strut with each syllable causing a tiny shiver as it went.
"Ah. I." Jazz shook himself physically and snatched his hand back, rude or no. Starscream actually smirked at that, straightening gracefully as if the reaction were according to plan. The Autobot saboteur scowled up at him, unconsciously cradling his defiled hand against his bumper. It might have been his imagination, but it tingled faintly. "I don't know what you're playing at, mech, but no way am I goin' anywhere alone with you!"
The Seeker stiffened, red eyes flaring crimson as the teasing left them, and Jazz immediately rewound his own words.
…aw, scrap. Situation: Decepticon A came under the flag of peace to speak with Autobot B. Autobot B flung flag of peace back in Decepticon A's face. Tact C: missing from situation entirely.
It was Jazz's turn to extend his hand. "For the purpose of ending our Great War," he recited hurriedly. That apology without apologizing had all kinds of connotations at the moment.
'I'm not trying to mess this up. Forgive my total lack of manners.'
'Creepy behavior or not, I could have rejected that better. Sorry.'
Starscream looked down at the hand, then back to Jazz's face. His optics burnt a darker red yet, but they had all been relearning patience since the ceasefire. Peace was not an easy habit to take up when all the ingrained instincts came right off the life-or-death of a battlefield. "For the purpose of ending our Great War," he said back at the Autobot, and the words were deliberately weighted. Confused, Jazz let his hand drop as the jet inclined his head stiffly. "I will wait for you, and you alone, at dusk."
With that, the Decepticon stepped backward and launched himself skyward.
Jazz stood in the doorway staring after him. The message was strange but clear: this had something to do with ending the war. Trust Starscream and go alone, or...
"What just happened?" Bluestreak asked from beside him, where he'd been hidden out of Starscream's sight around the doorjamb, and a speculative murmur filled the room as the others started exchanging ideas. The Seeker had to have known the other Autobots were there, but he'd still - what? Threatened him? In the middle of peace negotiations, in front of a crowd of witnesses, on enemy territory? That didn't make sense at all. It'd felt like an invitation, but anything coming from a Decepticon - especially that Decepticon - was suspect.
Correction: none of this made sense. And curse Jazz's curious nature, because he loved puzzles.
His hand was still cradled against his bumper. His other hand obsessively washed over it, and if the tingle was still there, well, he wasn't going to tell the other Autobots what it felt like.
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"Starscream Kisses Jazz's Hand"
Picture by Shibara available on LJ/Ao3/Tumblr
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End Pt. 1
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