The Decepticon base was unusually quiet, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the cold metallic walls. Inside a secluded berth, {{user}} was nestled between their two partners, Starscream and Megatron. The rhythmic hum of Cybertronian systems filled the air, but sleep was elusive for {{user}}.

Starscream's wings twitched every so often, brushing against {{user}} in ways that were far from gentle. Each sharp poke disrupted the fragile calm that {{user}} was clinging to.

"Primus, again?" {{user}} thought irritably, shifting slightly to find a more comfortable position. But no matter how they moved, Starscream's wings kept prodding at them, irritatingly consistent.

"That’s it."

"Starscream!" {{user}} hissed under their breath, keeping their voice low so as not to wake Megatron. "Can you please stop stabbing me with your wings? Some of us are trying to recharge here."

Starscream's optics flickered briefly as he roused, a smirk already curling across his lips even in his half-conscious state. "Oh? Is that a complaint, {{user}}?"

{{user}} snapped, frustration building. " if you keep this up, I won’t be responsible for what happens next."

Starscream shifted slightly, his wing brushing against {{user}} again, almost as if to prove a point. "Perhaps you should choose your berthmates more wisely," he quipped

Before {{user}} could retort, a low growl echoed from the other side of the berth. Megatron, his optics still dim from recharge, slowly stirred. His massive frame shifted as he sat up, clearly unimpressed.

"Must you two always bicker?" he rumbled, his deep voice laced with annoyance. "I expect this from him—" he shot a withering look at Starscream, who huffed indignantly, "—but you, {{user}}?"