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“You’re back,” Soundwave said. From where he lay, he could see Starscream approach the nest, but his servos were empty. Had he not been as successful today?
“Yes,” Starscream said, slowly. He tilted his helm to the side and sank to the ground after attempting to size up his mate’s temperament.
“No,” Soundwave said, grumbling. His meaning is clear as he stares at Starscream, and a loud chitter from his throat follows. “You know the rules. No food. No entrance inside the nest. No chance to stay.”
“Oh, but I did…” Starscream droned on. “… It’s just too large to fit inside the cave, my dear. You have to come out and help me dismember it for the little ones to gnaw on. I’m afraid they may ruin their cute little jaws if we don’t.”
With a huff, Soundwave stood up and went to go look. Behind him was Starscream, his servos pressed together. “If this is another lie of yours, I will feed you to the hatchlings. And this time it won’t just be your energon feeding them.”
“How dare you?” Starscream said, offended. “I would never dare to starve our little ones. I worked very hard to earn this kill, you know! I even got a scratch on my faceplate… Look!”
He flickered his optics, chin thrown to the side as he waited for Soundwave to respond, but when he heard none, he opened one of his optics to see Soundwave outside and admiring his kill. It was one of the rarer four-legged beasts that existed on the rather barren planet they were forced to settle on until their hatchlings were strong enough to take flight. But the metal from this beast should’ve been enough to suffice them for a week or two, so long as they contained their hatchlings appetite and filled the gaps with their energon. He and Soundwave were already used to starving, if it meant their most recent litter could survive another day.
Soundwave seemed pleased, the metal wicks on his helm flapping occasionally, and his hands moved to touch Starscream’s waist, and he stared at him as if to inspect him for the supposed scratch he had earned while out.
“It’s a good kill, right?” Starscream said, smirking. His mate squinted at him a little but nodded.
Gently, Soundwave licked his cheek and tapped his chassis. “Acceptable,” he said. “But there is no scratch on your faceplate. You seem fine.”
“Oh,” Starscream gasped. “I must have meant on my neck then…”
“Mm,” Soundwave said, playing along. “I’ll check later. Go on now and greet the hatchlings. They’ve been peeping for your arrival.”
“If you insist, but first,” Starscream said. He cupped the bottom of Soundwave’s faceplate and nuzzled it. He peppered his mate with kisses until he was slapped and scratched.
“Go,” Soundwave said, growling.
“I’m going,” Starscream said, purring. “Going… going!”
Soundwave shook his head but continued to squint at Starscream’s vanishing figure, his gaze mostly focused on checking if his mate’s gait was alright or if he would need repairs to his metal-winged gear. After surmising that all was fine, Soundwave started to map out what parts would be most nutritional for his hatchlings to eat.
It was enough that he couldn’t hunt as much and was forced to rely on Starscream for meals. His body was still unable to adjust to this planet’s source of light—a single burning star. But Starscream did just fine.
As Starscream approached the nest, a flurry of gray attacked him.
“Hello, littles,” he said, ecstatic. “Oh, how I missed you all too! Have you been good to your carrier? Hm? No biting. You too… Oh, please don’t try, dears. Your sire hasn’t eaten in weeks. There’s no energon for you right now. You have to wait.”
With a snort, he tried to pry off the main little investigator as she tried to bite his nose and then digits. The rest tried to attack his shins and ankles. It’s good that I love you all, Starscream thought. As he settled into the nest, so did his hatchlings; gradually, they seemed to understand and remember who he was—their sire.
The one from earlier chirped. Her bright orange eyes stared up at Starscream while he smiled and chirped back at her. The rest of her siblings had settled in their sire’s lap, asking when it was mealtime.
“Soon,” Starscream said, cheerfully. “Soon, my sweet littles.”
He then snatched one of the wriggling bodies in front of him and laughed. If he was correct, this one was his youngest—still hungry as ever and trying to chew on his wrist like usual. “Bad girl,” he said, sighing.
“Hungry,” his youngest whined, trying to scratch him. "Care said we can’t eat until you come back. Why’s that?”
“Because I’m important,” Starscream coaxed. “Important enough to be there for mealtime.”
“Liar,” she whined. “Care just says you’re here because he can’t go out unless it’s night, and night never visits this stinky planet.”
“We’ll leave soon,” Starscream said. “Try not to complain. I brought you something tasty to eat. Your carrier has already approved of it.”
After he said that, Soundwave started to make a few chitters, and Starscream could only sit there as his ravenous horde of hatchlings took off, climbing all over one another—always someone trying to make it there first, to eat the most.
They act like we never feed them, he thought while shaking his head and following after them. Soundwave was off to the side, his servos occasionally stepping in to stop their eldest from biting his siblings whenever they got close to stealing his share.
“He’s resource guarding from his siblings again,” Soundwave said, tired. He looked over towards Starscream, who picked up their youngest, her dentas still in the middle of gnawing on a tossed scrap. “And she’s still too tiny…”
“It’ll be fine,” Starscream assured. “She’s small enough to fit in my cockpit.”
Soundwave let out a puff of hot steam, blowing it into Starscream’s faceplate, forcing the red of his optics to flicker. “I wish she were scrappier.”
“She will be fine,” Starscream said, setting down the youngest of his litter. “Look at her go,” he said. “She can fight.”
“Starscream—” Soundwave hissed but paused the moment he witnessed his youngest hatchling tackle her older brother from above the pile and wrestle him to the ground and claim his portion. “Perhaps you are correct. She will be fine.”
“She gets it from her carrier,” Starscream teased but was smacked over the helm. “Ow. I’d say that hurt, but I’ve been hit for too long.”
Soundwave shook his finials but dragged Starscream into their nest and bit his neck the moment they were alone and in the safety of it. After letting go, he watched as Starscream began to relax into the nest and stared at him.
“You did good today,” Soundwave said, purring. “The hatchlings should be able to fly after this.”
“I did a good job?” Starscream asked proudly. He grabbed Soundwave by the waist and pulled him closer until they were barely apart. “How so…?”
He was given an answer when Soundwave grabbed him and rammed their faceplates together, the action rougher than usual, but it blended into the background. Starscream’s cogs turn and his wires hiss as Soundwave grabs onto him, digging his claws into the gaps of his frame that allow steam to escape. He drags them wherever they’re allowed to be, taking advantage of their height difference.
Starscream, despite being the taller mech, is left a mere puddle, only able to whine and squeak as Soundwave rekindles their bond as mates through touch alone, biting and marking his territory with glossa and teeth.
“That’s how good,” Soundwave said, staring up at Starscream. He buries his faceplate in Starscream’s neck, attempting to snuggle into him.
He’s always liked sleeping on top of his mate, but soon the hatchlings arrive, and they pile into the nest. They roll in like a sweeping tide and slip in where they wish. Their youngest, however, fights her way into the most prized position—her carrier’s arms. Soundwave accepts her with practiced ease, chittering at her for beating her siblings, and she yawns.
Her yawns are infectious; Starscream mimics her. The mandibles of his jaw spread out, revealing the rows of teeth he has underneath, before closing, and the pupils of his optics go wide. As he turns to the side and starts to lay down, another hatchling snuggles up to him and splays herself over his faceplate. She doesn’t fear being eaten by her sire.
“You’re happy, aren’t you?” Starscream said, sleepily. Out of the corner of his optical field, he can see Soundwave stroking the helms of their hatchlings, counting them. It’s the first time in stellar cycles that they haven’t lost one. He knows his mate still mourns their first litter.
“Yes,” Soundwave said, softly. “They’re all fed and safe… it’s good.”
“It wasn’t your fault, dear.”
“I know,” Soundwave grumbled. He reached to touch their youngest, the hue of her dark blue frame; it reminded him of a past hatching he had dreamed of once. “But I still…”
“No one could’ve predicted Cybertron would fall that day,” Starscream said. “Or for our litter to be caught in the crossfire.”
Soundwave didn’t argue. He already knew his mate was right; no one could’ve seen it coming, or the loss they would suffer when it happened.
He stood there, holding them. Starscream ushered him to leave, his servos damaged, his faceplate torn and unpolished. It was normal to lose hatchlings, but Soundwave had gotten attached to this litter in particular—it was his first.
“I know,” Soundwave said. “But I still wish they had made it to their planned hatch date. It still feels as if I have failed as a carrier despite this litter and and many other's clear survival.”
“You’re not the one who failed them, dear.”
“But I was the one who should’ve been there when they needed me the most.”
The guilt stood out plain and clear on his faceplate. Starscream sighed. There was still a layer of bereaved innocence in Soundwave’s words—feelings still driven by instinct—and things that would not fade no matter how many litters they raised to adulthood.
Starscream wrapped his arms around Soundwave. “It still isn’t your fault,” he said. “And if you had been there… Who knows if you would be with me here now to see our current hatchlings grow into scrappy little fighters like their carrier? Let alone the one's we had before. How many of them take after you and you only? None of me.”
“That’s true,” he said. "Your frame is so ugly, it's a miracle none of them take after you."
"Poisonous as always," Starscream snorted.
Soundwave lifted his servo. Starscream lifted his. They both looked at their current litter and then each other, exchanging melancholy yet cheerful gazes. Their hatchlings lay all around them, curled in different shapes and positions, some not even sure how they wish to.
But they’re happy. Their chambers are full and round, their wishes to see their sire again have been fulfilled, and now all they have to do is wait to see the next day.