Deadlock was rather enjoying himself. He was lazily sprawled out in his quarters in Darkmount, even if they were small and cramped, and Flare-Up was currently driving whoever was beneath him up the wall. She was strutting back and forth, pacing, as she muttered to herself, endlessly shaking her helm. The femme sat down, only to stand back up again and continue her constant pacing.

As amusing as it was to see her so deep in thought, he had to bring it to an end before she simply exhausted herself. He reluctantly left the warm berth and came up behind her, surprising the femme as he snaked his arms around her and brought her right up against him. "Primus, don't worry so much Sweetspark. You're practically scaring me half to death,"
She scoffed, but looked up at him fondly regardless. "You're not afraid of anything, 'Lock."

He shook his helm, quickly kissing her forehelm, even as she tried to duck away. "I am scared of something, Flare," he admitted, looking upon her delicate features intently. "If I lost you, I'd be nothing. I'd be so lost, and so broken that I wouldn't be able to think; I wouldn't be able to function, Sweetspark,"

"You're just saying that," she said coolly, though her voice cracked, betraying her too quickly.

"Sweetspark, is this about my decision?"

"I don't know, Deadlock! Is it?" She retorted furiously, looking up at him with hurting optics, her spark aching as he looked down at her, rage in his optics. "You turned your back on that enforcer, and he saved your life! I can hardly take credit for something like that. What's to say you wouldn't turn on me?" She barked, meeting his contorted expression with a sharp glare as she tried to leave the unyielding grip around her waist.

"Don't you even dare suggest that!" He said furiously, standing over her with an intense fury ablaze in him. "You even being afraid of that... Primus, Flare. Do you know why you don't see that side of me?" His servos dug into fists and he ground his denta, looking down at her as he fruitlessly attempted to reign in his rampart anger.

"I don't know! You told me that any respectable Decepticon, like yourself, doesn't associate himself with femmes, or worse yet, love!" She scowled, almost in a way that Nightshade would at her own mate, and it took him aback, even if he didn't show it. With a greedy snarl, he had his femme pushed back into the berth, and she squealed as it sunk beneath her, which only resulted in him pushing her deeper into the flexible material. However, she could make no further sound as he silenced her with his rather experienced mouth, only able to siphon strangled yelps from the now silenced femme.

Oh how he hated it when she would doubt him.

He was Deadlock, that would never change for as long as she knew him, and he knew her, but for some reason, this one irreplaceable piece of his youngling vorns was capable of driving all the worst of his demons away, more so than any killing or slaughter could for him. He craved the peace and the serenity she brought him almost as much as he craved to offline the Autobot weapon specialists, who were barely a match for his superior skills with any rifle, blaster, or explosion. He easily forced entire battalions to retreat with his superior and unrelenting ability, yet for some reason, no matter how much he lied to himself, she held the piece of him he thought long lost to pain and suffering from eons ago.

Finally letting her go, she vented heavily, looking up at the now satisfied mech with the most gorgeous faceplate. "I want one." He said suddenly, smiling blissfully as he relaxed with the most amazing femme on all of Cybertron..

She turned her helm to face him, tearing her optics from the glorious sights of a restored Kaon, in all its worthy glory, symbolizing their great Kudos and, unfortunately for some, the hubris of the Decepticons. "Want one what?" She asked, raising an optic ridge curiously. It was her mistake.
He laughed, sealing her tender mouth in a fiery, yet calm kiss, the rampart emotions he felt surging through his spark casing and flooding his veins, tainting the already overheated energon. With mostly work, and no play, he didn't have the time he needed to get his virus taken care of. Not that it mattered, he would fight until he died, and it would only delay the inevitable. Hound and Ironhide, those fragging Autobot Pit-spawned slaggers, would definitely do him in; their rivalry was growing too quickly for it to end any other way, he realized solemnly.

He tore his raging processor away from the bitter thoughts that occupied his violently wired mind, and smiled at his femme. He was beyond lucky, and he knew it too. Having a mate during wartime was rare, but as a higher ranking Decepticon official, though he wasn't Megatron himself, was not exactly canny. "A sparkling." He finally admitted, caressing her faceplate with calm, loving, and surprisingly sincere optics. He was one of the original Decepticons after all; Megatron had chosen him for a reason...

This obviously wasn't it though.
She scoffed. "You can't be serious."
He laughed, shaking his helm at her lovable bluntness. "Of course I am. I remember how wonderful your creators were, and look at you now!" The Decepticon stole a steamy kiss from her one more before he snickered.

"You don't remember a single thing from your sparklinghood, now do you, Deadlock?" She giggled, rolling her optics. "We were awful! We drove my creators absolutely insane until you took me in with you in our faction and supported me!" She laughed again, unable to resist his playful smirk. "I don't want to go through all the misery we put them through!"

"Flare, think about it!" He persisted, refusing to let her stubborn nature triumph in their debate. "We have the life we dreamed for ourselves, but we're missing that one little, perfect detail!" His servos clasped her own, and he vented, disappointed when he saw her icy glare.

He tucked her helm near his beating spark; and it crackled joyfully, recognizing its mate instantly. She was only slightly comforted by the fact that he still faithfully loved her, though her worries did not entirely vanish.

"Because we're in a war, Deadlock. Did you ever stop to consider that? The Autobots are grasping at anything and everything to get an advantage over us, even if they are losing. Do you think those trigger-happy, planet decimators would even consider anyone but themselves taking your own metal and energon away from you because 'they deserve a chance to right your wrongs'?" She choked back a teary gasp and curled up, seeking solace, of any kind from her lover.

He shushed her, stroking the back of her helm gently, restraining his need to satisfy his desires. She came first. No matter what, his Flare-Up would always be more important than anything. The Decepticon faction, his friends, his superiors, his leader; even his own spark. She was his everything.
"They would never get their servos on him." She looked up, confused. He flashed a grin at her. "Or her,  it could be either. Regardless, you know I would defend you both with my spark, and even take you out of the war if need be. I love-"

"No!" She barked, sitting up on the berth and struggling to maintain her insistent frown, holding back tears. "I mean it! Do you have any idea what would happen to you? To our life here? To said sparkling if you did give yourself up for us? They would never know their Sire, and you would never know them." She pushed herself off and stood, peds clicking on the metal flooring as the black and orange femme hurried out of the room, into the adjoining one, but she paused in the doorway, looking back with a firm gaze. "No."

"Aw, Flare! Come on!" Deadlock called, jumping to his peds and hurrying after his mate. "I didn't mean it like that, you know it!" She didn't respond, instead marching out of his surprisingly clean quarters and rushing down the halls with him running on her heels. "Flare!"

She was about to round the corner when he snatched her wrists from behind, pulling her right up against his warm armor. It was soothing... in a sinister way. "Not going to work." She spat, though her anger wavered, and she shook slightly. "Now let go of me right this instant!"

"No way in Pit." He growled, twisting her arms around as his optics darkened, a primal fear of loss overtaking his more rational senses. "I'm never losing you, Flare."

She scoffed, failing to pull herself free. "That's your spark taking. You can't guarantee anything."

That had been the wrong thing to say. Deadlock snarled, throwing her over his shoulder, and she squealed, knowing that she had angered his spark; no spark could save her now. "Frag it! Put me down! I'm not your... your... property!" She found it difficult to speak, somehow trapped between the cocky looking mech, acting only on his playful, slightly lusty spark's instincts, and one of the walls of his quarters. "Okay! I'm sorry! Just don't try and - Mmmph!" She vented sharply, unable to say much more with her mouth otherwise occupied with the the impossibly task of warding him, and his affections off.

He was feeling rather playful, and although it killed her to admit it, Flare-Up loved her mate when he was as mature as a youngling, because it reminded her of the solar cycles when things were different, and the only threat that existed was her creators, and the fact that they did not know of... Deadlock's existence, or their rather mutually intense feelings for one another. That would not have ended well, and it hadn't when she moved out, leaving her kin to be with a killer. Her creators had been less than pleased about her decision, and begged her to reconsider.

She hadn't looked back, or given them a second thought. Her life was, and always would be Deadlock, no matter what. He broke away from her momentarily, allowing her cooling systems to adjust, though she managed to find solid ground and speak, even if her voice was shaky. "I love you." She whispered, smiling sadly as he searched his optics. "You know that, right Deadlock?"

He nodded fiercely, cupping her helm and stealing a semi-quick, searing kiss before he responded in turn. "Of course I do. And I love you more than you could possibly imagine, sweetspark." He brought her close once more, consoling his wild, rampart spark. "You are my everything."

"Besides your guns." She reminded him matter-of-factly.

He snorted, even though his spark wasn't really in it, something completely out of the ordinary for the sarcastic, hollow, aggressive mech, yet he didn't seem to notice. In all honestly, Flare-Up felt as if Deadlock was nothing more than an echo at that point, and that thought alone made her spark cackle brightly, delighted that she was enough to satisfy the object of her undying affection. "No, including my entire weapons vault." he said seriously, unwittingly allowing his optics to look off to the side at the sealed door.

"You're serious?" She asked, almost afraid to believe him. He'd been so different lately, and so very affectionate;  Flare found herself worrying once more that he was playing her for a fool all this time.

She would have sworn upon that covenant of Primus that in the moment, her precious beloved's optics were as bright blue as they had been the day she'd met him, rather than his usual darkened, blackened, and tainted red. "I-"

-----

"Drift?" She called out, her worried optics locked on his still frame as he looked upon the stoic mech. He snapped his gaze to meet her uneasy one; it was so different than he had been used to from her.

"Hey, sweetspark!" He said cheerily, taking in her awe-inspiring appearance once more. "Don't tell him I said this, but Sunstreaker most definitely knows his way around the world of luxury like no other. He's more than talented, I'm telling you," Her faceplates hinted at dashed of blue, visible even in the darkness. "Although," The autobot purred, almost surprising her as he moved closer to plant a tender kiss on her forehelm. "He had someone already gorgeous to work with,"

There was no hiding her obvious embarrassment. "Drift!" She protested weakly, even if deep down his flattery was quite endearing. "You're going to embarrass me at the banquet if you keep saying stuff like that,"

Drift only offered her a flirty grin that could only appear on his all too familiar faceplate. "Prepare to be embarrassed then, sweetspark!" The samurai retorted, preventing her from replying with a cheery kiss before he pushed her towards the inner sanctum of the apartment and off the balcony.

He paused, looking back over his shoulder and raising an optic ridge when he heard the laughter from all those eons ago echo back into his audio receptors. Looking around quickly, his optics narrowed, but he went back inside nonetheless, dismissing it as nothing more than a trick from his processor.

He would never fully understand how wrong he was.