Warp grinned into the kiss, exhilaration flowing through his systems as he heard Sky, heard his mate, through the forming bond and felt those emotions within his own spark. He could have cursed as his own memory formed, wishing he was more experienced and had more control to have been able to hold it off – he would have liked to explore that temping hint of being able to share emotions and words.
As the memory faded, Warp’s arms and hands tightened on Sky’s frame, feeling the backwash of outrage and fury directed at the Academy Headmaster in his memory. He shifted and pressed his forehelm against Sky’s, accepting the cold rage, finding it matching his own toward the Starscream in his mate’s memory. He was the first – not the last. The Cybertron I am from… it revolved around caste, love. Anyone casteless… must have been defective in one way or another, especially if they were expelled from it. He raised his helm, crimson optics meeting golden in the tawny glow of their merged sparks. He’s been missing since the fall of Iacon. Presumed offline in the action – pity I wasn’t able to do it myself. He didn’t try to soothe Sky’s rage away – no, this was part of being a warbuild, part of having a Seeker for a mate, and Warp accepted that. He wanted that, wanted the match to his own instincts and programming.
Sky… The name came over the their emerging bond on a wave of quiet awe and surprise as Warp felt the emotions over the bond, the love and devotion that came straight from Sky’s spark, the unshakable faith and trust in him of all mecha. He drank in the emotions with a quiet noise, shuttering his optics, clinging to Sky’s frame, trying to get as close as he could. My love, he sent, the words gasped if a word not spoken could be said to be gasped. Surprise, love, and a deep, aching need that went far beyond the physical for the lighter Seeker under him flowed down the bond without him realizing consciously he was sending them.
Images flickered through his own processor, memories brought up by the ones Sky shared through the spark merge – Sky, sitting across from him at a table, staring miserably down at his cube before his helm jerked up in surprise, gratitude and happiness filling golden optics as Warp said he’d put Sky on his emergency comm list and would never shut off his comm to him; an echo of a thought, Primus he’s gorgeous when he’s happy, echoing from the memory as the point of view focused on Sky’s glowing optics, guilt swirling in that long-ago watcher’s tanks at making the other so miserable. A flicker, and an image of Sky in alt mode tearing through the air off his left wing above a battlefield, a catch in the watcher’s throat at having someone he trusted so completely there to watch his back. Sitting in quarters at his desk, glancing up to see Sky watching him with a smile, happiness causing his golden optics to glow. Sky, sprawled out under him in berth, the warmth of the other frame and the happy rumbles soothing him to recharge, his digits clinging to the lighter frame for fear he wouldn’t be there when Warp woke up, that it would have been a dream. In all of the images, Sky was in focus - everything else slightly blurry and unfocused, like it wasn’t important, wasn’t real, that Sky was the only thing that mattered. The images that were called up in his mind seemed insignificant, seemed nothing but a weak mirror of what Sky had shown him. Sky, I… I love you, so fragging much, Warp breathed, emotions swirling in his spark, mixed up like he didn’t know what he was feeling himself – except for three that came across clearly: love, gratefulness, and happiness that Sky chose him.