Author's Notes- Hello all, sorry for the ridiculous wait.
Warnings- Multiple pairings (differences in size included), hints at past rape (possibly descriptions later), future mech-preg, violence and Transformers swearing.
Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.

Thanks to moonlightnight1, Chibi Oro, tiedwithribbons, Mizz Arcee, sakiko of soleana, Iwanita, Anon, LadyBonBon, Koluno1986, The-writing-Mew, Kit_SummerIsle, silveryn83 and allseer15 for reviewing and commenting, and to all those who subscribed, bookmarked, favourited, gave kudos and followed.

Units of Time:-
Astrosecond- 1 second, Klik- 1 minute, Cycle- 1 hour, Orn- 1 day, Decacycle- 1 week, Meta-cycle- 1 month, Solar cycle- 1 year, Vorn- 1 million years.
Italics- Flashbacks/thoughts/memories/link speak.
Bold- Comm speak.
Beta- The wonderful Iwanita.
All mistakes are my own.

Hope you all enjoy it.

Chapter Two- Home

Starscream's frame stretched out, wings fluttering lightly against the berth, as his internal chronometer dragged him online, ready for his orn of lecturing. Unusual warmth wrapped a pleasant blanket around his frame making every system online slower than normal out of a deep-seated reluctance to leave his cocoon. An additional bonus was that there were none of the expected kinks chafing his frame, his wings in particular not protesting lack of energon from being awkwardly bent. Not that he complained, it was his choice after all and he was stubborn enough to put up with it. And his space may be small, but at least it was his.

Still, this place clearly wasn't... For one thing he was sure he could smell freshly brewed energon nearby, hardly the customary scent of his apartment block. His frame turned over towards the warm, welcoming smell with a soft, contented hum. Half-reluctantly opening his recharge-hazy optics, he blinked several times to clear them and was finally greeted with a glowing, purple cube of energon. Reaching for it, wings flicking in hunger, he suddenly paused as he remembered the events of the previous orn…

Oh. Oh frag… He had fallen into recharge in the Lord High Protector's lap, hardly how two mechs of their standing should begin courting, informally or not. Primus he hoped no one found out, the Winglord would be incensed to hear of his eldest creation behaving in such a way…

Yet… perhaps his Sire would be pleased with him for attracting the optic of such a powerful mech at least. For him to bond with the co-ruler of Cybertron would give Vos incalculable prestige and influence, even considering his current status. He'd have to make sure, before he and the Lord High Protector went any further, that Megatron was aware of all that mating to a Seeker entailed, of the however distant connection the Lord would gain to Starscream's trinemates. Starscream's need for the sky that couldn't be denied… And, on a less personal level, the political, financial and cultural nature of Vos… He may very well know it all already, but it was amazing what even the most cultured of grounder could be ignorant of. Megatron had always come across as the more… uncouth of the two brothers, far more likely to be found in a brawl than in a library… Although rumours abounded that he had been known to write poetry on occasion… Perhaps it could work. If nothing else, they could complement each other as opposites.

Even so, he really had to be leaving; he would be pushing it to get to the Academy on time as it was. Sitting up, he stretched out his wings in a rush of air, engines purring warmly, and picked up the cube. Inhaling deeply the thin fumes coming from the high-class substance, he scanned the room he had been resting in. It was large, almost as large as his rooms back at home… but no balcony access. No sky, not even a window…

As nice as this room was, he hoped it was negotiable.

Drinking the energon slowly, partly to savour it and partly not to shock his tanks with too rich a grade of energon too soon, he pulled himself from the cloud-soft berth and stood. Checking himself over, he nodded. He was presentable. At least enough that his students shouldn't have any cause to gossip. He grinned at the thought of their eager faces, and the mound of essays he knew would be waiting for him to mark on his desk once they went home. It was amazing, he always gave them all the same question and they all came back with different ideas, formulae and interpretations. While he was the scientist of the present, they were the future of their field. Young, idealistic, enthusiastic, and utterly brilliant, he was sure they would all make great strides in any specialty they chose to go into.

Hmm, now, how was he going to work this? He couldn't just walk out, that would be rude, but on the other servo who should he tell that he was leaving? He hovered beside the berth for a few moments, debating with himself, and then headed for the door to seek one of the help, spurred forward by the passing of time. He didn't want to be late… As the door slid open, he was confronted by a black and white mech leaning innocuously against the opposite wall, pede resting on it casually.

'Ah you're up,' the mech smiled amiably at him, blue visor glinting warmly. 'Designation's Jazz. Lord Megatron's assigned me as your bodyguard until the termination of your association Sir.'

Starscream stared at him for a moment before shaking his helm, previous good mood slipping. 'It's not necessary and I'm running late as it is.' He was not as prejudiced as his sire over grounder frames, but if he didn't fly to his class he was going to miss a good half of it and this close to exams it wasn't something he could afford, it wouldn't be fair to his students. The Winglord's heir made to stride by his 'bodyguard' but was stopped as Jazz put an arm out in front of him, careful not to actually touch him.

'I have to insist,' the mech's engines rumbled in a friendly manner, though his visor took on a slightly harder edge, 'Lord Megatron doesn't want you wandering about without a chaperone.'

Starscream's wings rose in indignation, he was perfectly capable of looking after himself, he'd been doing it for solar cycles without another mech holding his servo. But his internal chronometer was internally buzzing at him… 'Fine, I'll discuss this with Lord Megatron later. Come along.' As soon as the arm dropped, the Seeker was off down the corridor, flustered and not wanting to admit he had no idea where he was going.

Luckily, Jazz took the initiative, giving directions to the exit as he kept up with the Seeker's stride, sticking uncomfortably close and making the flier's wings flutter in both frustration and slight unease at the mech's over familiarity. He would much prefer to have his space, but he knew when to wait for an argument, when to strike, and he would as soon as the opportune moment presented itself.

Several kliks later they exited the house of the Prime and his Protector, heading down the streets towards the Academy.

The Palace itself, he would think later in a less irritated mood, was rather beautiful, the little he saw of it being simple and elegant, lightly and comfortably coloured, and stylish. Tasteful artworks of past nobility adorned the walls with a handful of statues and antiques presented where they could be admired without getting in the way of the perpetual bustle of the upper class of Cybertron and their servants going about their orn. The ancient and modern intertwined as books in the cases on display and paintings celebrating Primus and the Golden Eras of times gone by sat side by side images and texts of a scientific nature and works done by budding artists… It was quite a warm and welcoming building considering its substantial size really, inviting a mech in to dine at its heart and hearth in safety and comfort. It was something he could work with, adjust to, given time.

As long as he could negotiate air access and privacy; and the bodyguard would certainly have to go!

Megatron watched from the back as Starscream smiled at his classroom, wings complementing the gestures of his servos towards the projector, the Seeker's frame broadcasting excitement and passion as his faceplates began to beam; the Seeker's frame having long since relaxed since he had walked into his lecture theatre as the clock chimed for the beginning of the lecture. The whole front wall was covered in symbols and diagrams and the Seeker's young students were nodding knowingly, making notes and scribbling in their datapads… A few looked a bit dubious but they simply raised their servos and waited patiently for Starscream to answer their questions. Wings and doorwings fluttered in easy contentment, the mechs and femmes utterly relaxed in their sanctuary of learning.

Shockwave stood beside his Lord, utterly absorbed in science and safe logic, his engines quietly humming in happiness. The Lord High Protector on the other servo, though his faceplates gave away no sign, was completely lost in the technicalities of what Starscream was saying, but was absorbed in the flier's softer than normal voice reverberating around the bright, glass domed hall nevertheless. Light from one of Cybertron's suns streamed in over the advanced learners as they moved almost in tandem, some of course being faster writers than others. All frame types inhabited the full house of seats, from large, seeming construction models to slender Seekers and, unlike many other classes in the Iaconian Academy, there was not a titter from the more 'normal' students about their 'common' classmates. Starscream had proved from the beginning of the academic solar cycle, and even before then with his actions on the Academy Council, that such behaviour would not be tolerated in his lecture hall…

He'd sent Jazz home with the idea of walking Starscream to his apartment and later having that meal they'd intended to have the previous evening. Now… Now, as he stared around the open, vulnerable room and picked out dozens of potential dangers to his intended that his brother's musician would have been perfect to protect Starscream from, hiding in the shadows and observing as he was wont to do, the Lord High Protector wished he'd not been so generous.

Eventually the lesson wound down to a close, the sky blazing with midday sunlight which easily illuminated even the darkest nooks and crannies of the lecture hall. The students began slowly to trickle out in ones and twos, leaving their assignments on Starscream's desk as they passed quietly chatting. One student paused to speak to his teacher, querying a couple of things, and the Seeker took out a spare datapad and drew out a couple of diagrams for guidance, showing his student how to work through the couple of calculations giving him trouble. When the Iaconian, young mech thought he had it, Starscream handed over the pad for him to keep and he left with a shy thanks.

A little bubble of foolish jealousy rose in Megatron's tanks and he glared at the automobile's back, quickly but temporarily popped when Starscream looked up and smiled at him, wings spread and welcoming as the lecturer bent slightly over his desk, carefully counting and putting away the essays for safe keeping; going through his checklist to make sure that everyone had completed their work, which they had. They loved their course, would not have joined it if they hadn't or would have dropped out early on (he always lost a couple, the level and amount of workload could be very strenuous), and their work was always completed passionately, if not always entirely correctly but that could be worked on.

Humming, Starscream straightened and directed a soft look at the Lord High Protector, early ire sinking deep down into his tanks and all but forgotten. Megatron had not done anything so terrible as to merit the Seeker's legendary rages from back in Vos, almost unheard of now he was away from 'home'.

Jazz was not such bad company and was, as Starscream found out when a would-be mugger had made a grab for his wing this morning and the musician snapped the livid orange mech's arm, dropping him off into the arms of Enforcers without breaking stride, very competent at his professional function. He had begun warming to the other's company then, idly singing along as the white and black mech played a variety of different tunes as they walked, and slowly began to chat during their time together. It turned out Jazz had a mate, designated Prowl, and hearing the two names together had jogged Starscream's memory…

It was the musician's turn to close off when the Seeker automatically gave him an unwanted sympathetic look, ''s all good mech.' The sir had been dropped with a wave of the flier's servo, as the conversation had then been ended with a dismissive gesture of the bodyguard's, and Jazz's music was turned up too loud to make conversation viable.

Starscream had cursed himself, flicking his wings in apology as his words would most definitely not have been heard… But Jazz had smiled at him all the same, reading the gesture as similar to that of a Praxian, to Prowl when he'd overworked himself and worried his mate, no harm done but the musician's want for conversation had been put to an abrupt end.

Starscream had decided that, with a few conditions, Jazz could stay if that was what Megatron wanted. It would soothe his anxious trinemates if nothing else.

Shockwave was close behind Megatron when they descended the steps of the emptied lecture hall, single optic flashing in curiosity as he approached. A victim of empurata, performed illegally by a corrupt Cybertron Council off-world, on one of Cybertron's neighbouring, subsidiary planets. The senator had gone for a visit with the aim of improving foreign relations between Cybertron and Lucifer, and had not returned, according to them initially had never arrived, pointing to the meteor showers that had occurred that decacycle. They had planned to keep the senator, humiliated, mutilated and incarcerated for his scientific expertise, despite their reasons for despising him, viewing him as a threat to their perceived independence from the commanding planet.

His rescue was born of luck, but no less valued. In spite of the changes made to him he had returned to his role as a Council member even if he now felt more at home in the labs than ever before, and had even found a mate in Soundwave, Megatron's aide. As for the planet concerned, their punishment was still on going.

The two scientists instantly got to chatting to the Lord High Protector's amusement, comparing the usefulness of their respective inventions, skimming over the nature of the scientific communities of Iacon and Vos, and then got into technicalities that once more left Megatron in the dark, watching the back in forth between them with interest; Starscream's never-ending reserves of energy and enthusiasm provided a nice counterpoint to Shockwave's cool logic. Yes, he was certain they would make a good team working together in the palace…

The conversation was quickly cut off by the arrival of Glitch (unfortunate enough to be with Shockwave at the time of his capture on Lucifer and to have been subjected to the same treatment as his superior) and Blurr, coming to collect the scientist for a series of afternoon meetings.

And then the two unofficial courters were left alone in the echoing, but strangely warm silence.

'Did you have a good morning, My Lord?' Starscream slipped a drawer shut, looking out from the corner of his optic at Megatron.

'Long and tedious,' the grounder sighed, venting as his helm gave a phantom pound at the interminably long Council meetings he and Optimus took turns hosting, only joint-presiding over them when matters of great importance were being discussed. As it was, the general ones often dissolved into two or three opposing sides insulting each other through an increasingly thin veil of legitimate political debate. And Primus and the Unmaker help the commoners dropped into that intimidating environment when they came to make requests or statements of things like bonding. It had only gotten marginally easier for them as time had gone on, but Optimus was determined to see real change done; Prowl and Jazz's bonding being a massive step, in the Prime's opinion, in the right direction, but even many solar cycles later resentment and bitterness remained over the decision which Megatron took great pains to protect his brother from as much as he was able. 'But the afternoon appears much more appealing,' his optics sparkled, flirtatiously, his gaze blatantly admiring Starscream's wings.

As Megatron rounded the desk, he took the Seeker's servo and kissed the back of it lightly, 'would you permit me to escort you to your home?' He breathed against the slim appendage deceptively formally, not adding a title as they were not truly courting yet.

Starscream chuckled quietly, a smile gracing his faceplates. Perhaps the rumours about Megatron were truly unfounded, he seemed nothing more than what others would call a 'big softy', about as dangerous as an oversized sparkling's toy. Well… in private at least, he could be quite the fearsome political opponent when he felt his core values were being threatened, especially in matters concerning his creation city of Kaon. A political attack against Kaon was defended against as if it were Megatron's very spark being threatened, the Kaonite often reacting in a formidable or striking way with the unpredictability of a wildfire. It left Kaon as one of the most stable and supported cities on Cybertron.

'You may, my good sir,' he completed the gesture with the proper words, but lightly dared to caress Megatron's faceplate in a more intimate way than would be strictly appropriate.

Megatron grinned toothily up at him, and as he straightened he pressed a soft kiss to Starscream's lip components, and they left the lecture hall servo in servo.

They walked through the Academy unbothered and out into the open air, side by side, as a pleasant, late afternoon breeze brushed their metal. Starscream leaned into Megatron's frame slightly much to the Lord High Protector's delight, wings fluttering behind the flier in casual relaxation as they strode in the waning sunshine.

A cold chunk settled in Megatron's tank at the thought of taking what he had just seen away from Starscream, but he couldn't see a way round the issue. He didn't want an unhappy, resentful mate, but he wanted his partner safe and protected. He was still looking into why Starscream was alone but Vos was a notoriously private city, their royal family most of all, and nothing he had tried had yielded results yet. The only thing that was clear was that the Winglord's relationship with his eldest creation was strained at best, and that for the construction place of the Seekers, was public knowledge. Every twist and turn, Starscream had been relentlessly defiant. His occupation was unheard of for a royal, his unbonded status considering his rank was frankly ridiculous, that he lived in Iacon was almost unheard of for his frame type, his choice of trinemates was severely frowned on and his tolerance of those 'beneath' him, grounders, was novel.

He was perfect.

How could the Lord High Protector not want such a rare fire? 'I have brought you a gift,' Megatron reached into his subspace and drew out a Vosian-Kaonite hybrid jewel, the two precious gems combined patiently over a great deal of time and then carefully moulded to form the figure of a Seeker, merging in the middle and spreading outwards to present the multi-coloured wings. 'I… Well. What do you think?' He stared up at the sky, eyeing Starscream's reaction awkwardly sideways on.

Starscream stared at the present, wide-opticed, reaching out a digit to run the tip over the edge of one rich blue, deep violet and crimson flecked wing. 'It's beautiful,' he whispered, reaching out both servos to gently cup it as the larger mech placed it into his metallic palms.

'Thank you… Megatron.'

Starscream's current apartment, his temporary home of several solar cycles now, was a rented attic in some mech or another's establishment, and a shoddy establishment at that, the stairs groaning beneath even the slender Seeker's pedesteps. The window rattled at the lightest of breezes and the room was rather cold. However, it was clearly the Seeker's place. A desk with a lamp and several piles of datapads and tools atop it in the alcove in the back of the room signified his work area. Along the wall beneath the window was a berth probably better suited to a small grounder than a Seeker beyond adult upgrades.

Megatron winced at the thought of the cramped space's effect on fully developed wings, but the Seeker sank onto it with a contented sigh, turning to stare out the window at the nearly perfect view he had of Iacon, the setting suns and the collage of colours and creatures of the sky. The flier's orbs dimmed as the wind trickled through to caress his wings, the appendages pushing and fluttering towards the tender stroking.

The Lord High Protector walked tentatively forward, almost sure he was going to go through it from the way it creaked and protested at his weight, settling in a chair beside the Seeker's berth as he moved some of the work on it to the floor. Worried about breaking something, he tried to hold as still as he could, and in his severe dissatisfaction- Primus, this was worse than the Pits locker rooms- he failed to take in Starscream's satisfaction, the flier's sense of belonging and ownership.

'Well,' Megatron stated matter-of-factly, frame twisting and turning in a vain attempt to get comfortable in the minibot-sized chair, 'you cannot stay here.'

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