Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Drift was two drinks in before he would say anything on the matter. Megatron, wanting to be sober for whatever this was, sat there in awkward silence while Drift drank.

“Before I say anything,” Drift began, “you love him, right?”

A warmth enveloped his spark when he thought of Rodimus. “With all my spark.”

“Good. He deserves as much. Now, I know he doesn't seem like the type, but he likes to be romanced. You’ve already got a leg up with your poetry—I assume you’ve been writing some?”

Megatron sighed. “So much.”

“Use that! And take him on dates. Real dates. You need to actually ask him out. Show him that you want him for more than just sex. And your Act of Profference had better be grand. Something he can’t get on his own. It can’t be just a poem!”

“I actually have an idea for that,” Megatron said. “I’ve already gotten Brainstorm working on getting the materials for it.” He reached into his subspace and handed it to Drift. “These are the blueprints.”

After skimming the datapad’s contents, Drift’s optics widened with excitement, while his optic ridges lifted with approval.

“Impressive.” Drift smiled. “He’ll love it.”

“It’s going to take a while to build it,” Megatron said as he took the datapad back. 

“Just keep him interested until it’s done. Which shouldn’t be too difficult, considering how much time you two already spend together.” It looked like it pained Drift to say that. “But you make sure,” Drift stabbed the table pointedly with his finger, “that he knows for certain that you want him for more than sex, okay? Because right now, that’s all he thinks you want him for.”

“Romance him and show him I want him for more. Understood.”

Drift accepted his third drink from the service bot and downed almost the entire thing. 

“You’re going to cherish him,” Drift said like it was an order. “Don’t fuck up like I did.”

A question burned in Megatron’s processor. It wasn’t his business, but he really wanted to know. 

“What happened between you two?” Megatron asked as gently as possible. It seemed like a touchy subject for both of them.

Drift let out a long sigh, finished his drink, and ordered another one. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“You don’t,” Drift said scathingly, “but if you must know…” His optics dimmed. “We had a lot of fun. You know what he’s like. He’s down for just about anything and will do it with enthusiasm. He was the bot to go to for these sorts of things, and I think Rodimus liked that for a while.

“It felt so easy for me. He never seemed to care about my past and, well… we all have needs. But for some reason Autobots ‘don’t do that.’” Drift made air quotes. “That’s a load of slag, by the way.”

“Yes, Rodimus told me.” Megatron’s optics dimmed. “I think he’s carrying around far more pain than he’s willing to admit.”

Drift’s optics dimmed as well. “I know I’m partially to blame.” He sighed. “It’s like he can’t believe someone could possibly love him and you didn’t help!” He pointed an accusatory finger at him. “He was finally opening his spark again and you just had to go and say something stupid!”

“How was I supposed to know he had feelings for me? How could he?”

“How could he? How couldn’t he? You convinced millions of bots to follow your lead for four million years. All Rodimus needs is someone who can keep up with him in berth and who wants to stay with him after. If you said the right things, of course he would fall for you. You’ve always been able to charm whoever you set your processor to. I should know.” Drift fixed him with an intense stare.

“Didn’t work, did it?” Megatron couldn’t help his small smile.

“I’m glad it didn’t. We made each other worse.” Drift looked wistfully off into the distance, lifting his optic ridges for a moment. “But you always knew how to give someone a good time.”

Smirking at him, Megatron said, “Sorry, Drift, I’m hoping to be off-limits soon.” 

“Cut the sass. I’m only tolerating you because I have to.” Drift took a swig of his drink. “I should’ve known better. Who the hell does sparkplay with someone they don’t love?”

Rodimus. At least, when it came to semi-sentient tentacles, but Megatron assumed Drift wouldn’t want to hear about that.

“I didn’t notice the shift at first,” Drift admitted. “I never asked him if he was seeing anyone else because I just assumed he was. It wasn’t until we came on this ship that I realized he was only coming to me, but I thought he was just trying to be a good captain. He started dropping hints and once I finally caught on, I was already in love with Ratchet.”

Megatron’s spark ached the way it had when Rodimus had flirted with Blaster. He understood his pain all too well.

“I tried to let him down easy,” Drift continued. “I didn’t want to hurt him or embarrass him, but in the end I had to stop him when he started the Rites.” He sadly shook his helm. “I felt terrible. I’ve never seen him so upset.”

Megatron truly didn’t know what to say. He felt bad enough that he’d made Rodimus cry.

Drift’s tone shifted dramatically. “It just had to be you, huh?” 

All Megatron could do was stare down at the table. As much as the idea of unrequited love made his spark ache, loving Rodimus and abruptly leaving him was infinitely worse. 

Drift shook his helm, his hands curling frustratedly into fists. “What the hell am I supposed to do when you get executed?” he spat. “He’s going to be a wreck!”

Guilt spread from Megatron’s cramping tank out into his lines. All he could get out was a quiet, “I don’t know.”

This silence was broken by the service bot with Drift’s fourth drink, and this time Megatron ordered a strong one for himself. Neither of them said another word until Drift was significantly more drunk and Megatron had a buzz. Not enough of one, mind you.

“Do you have any ideas for where you’re going to take him?” Drift asked.

“Take him?”

“On dates,” Drift said.

“I, well…” Megatron wished he had more engex in his system.

Drift sighed, half-flopping onto the table. Every movement was sluggish from his intoxication.

“Okay. I can let you know when we’re hanging out here,” Drift said, “and you can invite him to movie night, but you need to figure out some romantic places to take him. Just the two of you.” 

Megatron nodded. “Right.”

“He likes space,” Drift said. “Stargazing.”

“Noted.”

“Honestly, he'll just be happy to have your full attention. You know how he is.”

Megatron nodded again. He hadn't missed the jealous flares of Rodimus’ field when they had Skywarp join them. Not that Megatron particularly cared to focus on Skywarp, but whenever he did he could feel just how much Rodimus resented it. 

“We’ve got plans to come here tomorrow night,” Drift said. “I’ll call you when we’re leaving.”

“Thank you, Drift. This… means a lot to me.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” Drift snapped. “Let’s make that very clear. I’m doing this for Rodimus.”

“I’m still thankful.” After a brief pause, he added quietly, “I know I don’t deserve him.”

“You’re right. You don’t. Remember that.”

Chapter Text

Like he said he would, Drift called him the next day as he and Ratchet were leaving for Swerve’s. 

“Roddy's going alone, but he usually isn't alone for long, so I would leave now if I were you.”

“I'll be there. Thanks.”

Drift was the last bot Megatron thought would ever be his wingmech—let alone for Rodimus— but he was grateful nonetheless. Because it meant soon he'd have his arm around that fiery speedster. 

He'd missed him terribly. While Rodimus hadn't been actively avoiding him, he didn't go out of his way to talk to him and he certainly hadn't invited him over. Knowing now how he'd made him feel, he didn't blame him.

How could he have been so stupid?

He knew the power of words. He’d swayed many a bot over the years through words alone, and he feared this one slip-up had soured what they had. Something he hadn’t realized was so precious to him until he had this Rodimus-shaped hole in his life. 

He wanted him back. In any capacity.

Megatron stopped just inside the doorway to the bar. His optics immediately trained on Rodimus, but he was looking at someone else.

Blaster.

He leaned over Rodimus the same way he had on the bridge. Leering at him. Getting right into his personal space.

And Rodimus wasn’t leaning away.

“Is this seat taken?” Blaster asked.

“Yes,” Drift said before Rodimus could answer.

“Huh? No, it's not.”

“It is,” Megatron said as calmly as possible as he approached the table.

Rodimus’ spoiler popped up for a moment then fell. His optics dimmed. For a brief moment he just looked so crestfallen that Megatron considered just leaving Rodimus to his own life. He felt like he was just causing more damage. But, selfishly, he just couldn’t.

“Oh, hey, uh… Captain,” Blaster said. “No worries, I was just leaving.”

“Uh… sit, I guess,” Rodimus said once Blaster walked away.

Megatron didn't waste a moment. He pressed every part against Rodimus that was proper to do in public. He was so warm.

“He never calls me captain,” Rodimus muttered.

“I’ve heard him call you ‘captain’ plenty of times,” Megatron said. “But if you must hear it…” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Captain.”

A noticeable shiver ran up Rodimus’ spinal strut. Blushing a bright red, he said, “Shut up, Megs.”

Drift checked his chronometer and then groaned exaggeratedly. “It’s that late already? Aw, man, you said he had to get to berth early tonight, right Ratty?”

Ratchet raised an optic ridge. “What? I never sa—” He grunted in pain, glaring at Drift. “What was that—”

Drift widened his optics, giving Ratchet a look.

“Oh. Right. I did say that.” Ratchet’s voice had a robotic tone.

“Aw, what? We just got here,” Rodimus complained.

“Megatron’s here. It’s not like you’ll be alone.”

“Drift,” Rodimus made his own face at his amica.

Donning a slag-eating grin, Drift said, “You told me you like spending time with Megatron.”

“Drift!” Rodimus hissed.

“Let’s go, Ratty,” Drift said, cuddling up to his conjunx. Ratchet's face ended up just about as red as Rodimus’.

“You like spending time with me, hm?” Megatron teased once they were alone.

Rodimus shrank in on himself. “Don't think anything of it.”

His tone made Megatron's spark ache. He hadn't been this cold with him in some time. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever been this cold with him; even in the beginning, he'd always made his fiery self known. When Rodimus was upset, he burned. 

Sliding his hand down Rodimus’ frame, settling on his waist, Megatron whispered, “I think I will.”

The snap of Rodimus’ lustful field had Megatron stifling a groan. He had half a processor to pick him up and take him to his habsuite until he was screaming his name. The other half wanted to just bend him over the table, the other patrons be damned.

But he had to resist.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Megatron asked.

“Uh… sure?”

Giving him a smile, and a kiss on the cheek, he left a flustered Rodimus alone in the booth before heading over to the bar. He flagged Swerve down.

“Evening, Captain. What can I getcha?”

“I'll just have what's on tap for myself, uh…” Megatron glanced back at Rodimus, realizing he hadn't actually asked him what he'd wanted. When he turned back, Swerve had followed his gaze.

“And a drink for Rodimus, I'm assuming?” Swerve asked with an amused smile.

“Yes. Please.” For once, Megatron was glad Rodimus was a regular.

While Swerve mixed Rodimus’ possibly-radioactive drink, Megatron looked back at his co-captain. His spoiler sagged. Actually, his whole frame seemed to sag. Like the world was resting on his shoulders.

Megatron wanted to believe Drift, but he couldn't help but feel like he’d irreparably broken what they'd had.

“Can I ask you something?” Swerve asked as he handed Megatron his order.

Megatron hesitated. “That depends.”

“Drinks are on the house if you answer.”

Megatron quirked up an optic ridge. “I'm listening.”

“Are you and Rodimus, like… A thing?”

Ah, ambiguity. It made for easy loopholes. With a sly smile, Megatron answered, “Not yet.” He knew even that would get the gears turning in the rumour mill. Frankly, he hoped it would get back to Rodimus. If he couldn't tell him, he'd just let everyone else tell him.

Comped drinks in hand, Megatron made his way back to Rodimus. He was happy to see him brighten slightly at the sight of him, but it was short-lived.

“Thanks,” Rodimus said neutrally. He couldn't help but notice that he'd shifted to the far side of the bench. Like he didn't even want to be near him.

Megatron decided to sit across from him, instead.

“I hope you didn't get into too much trouble today,” Megatron teased.

Rodimus’ spoiler flicked a few times. “I didn't.”

“What did you do?”

Rodimus shrugged.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just… Just tired.”

“Busy with someone?” This question was half-teasing, half-serious, but Megatron's spark ached nonetheless.

“I was just with Drift!” Rodimus snapped. He muttered his next words under his ventilations. “What do you care anyways?”

“I just wanted to ask you about your day,” Megatron said gently.

“Why?”

Megatron gave him an amused smile. “I can't ask you about your day?”

Rodimus shrugged, spoiler still flicking. It didn't seem to want to stay still. “Not usually what fuck buddies do.”

I want to be more than that, Megatron wanted to say. He wanted to say so much. But not here. Not now. Instead, he reached across the table, just brushing Rodimus’ free hand. When he didn't pull away, he dared to lay his on top.

“I think we're allowed to make our own rules,” Megatron said. “Besides, I'd say we’re closer than most fuck buddies.”

Rodimus blushed a deep red, gripping Megatron’s hand tightly.

“I… I guess.”

“Are we not?” 

Rodimus shrugged.

Megatron made circles with his thumb on the back of Rodimus’ hand. “You don't seem like yourself.”

The smile Rodimus gave him was so clearly forced. None of it reached his optics.

“What makes you say that?”

“You're usually happier to be around me,” Megatron said honestly. He bared his field, full of warmth, coaxing Rodimus’ out. It prickled against his own. A chaos of emotions.

“Sorry. Just… tired.” 

Megatron wished Rodimus wouldn't lie to him, but if what Drift said was true, he understood why he was.

“Why don't we get out of here when we're done our drinks?” Megatron suggested.

His face nearly as red as his plating, Rodimus said, “I mean I'm actually pretty tired… so, y’know…”

Smiling amusedly, Megatron said, “Yes, that's why I suggested we leave.”

Rodimus still gripped his hand hard. Like he was worried he might pull away.

As if he could.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

Megatron didn't bother to try and continue the conversation. As much as he would've loved to spend the entire evening just listening to Rodimus talk, he clearly wasn't interested in doing so. And, oh, how he missed his chatter. He'd settle for listening to him ramble on about some new show he'd discovered or some game he and Drift had started playing.

Just… anything.

Instead, they finished their drinks in silence.

When Rodimus swallowed the last of his dangerous concoction, they got up to leave. Megatron made sure to reclaim his hand the moment he could, and Rodimus didn't try to pull away. If anything, he held on even more tightly.

“Your place or mine?” Rodimus asked.

Megatron cocked his helm. “Yours, of course.”

Rodimus looked confused at Megatron's confusion. “Okay.”

When they made it to his room, Rodimus keyed in the code and tried to pull Megatron in with him. And he wanted to go in. So badly. But, he abstained, knowing it was for the best.

“What gives?”

“You said you were tired.”

“... And?”

“And I'm going to let you go to sleep.”

Rodimus’ gaze and spoiler fell. “Oh.”

“But I will say that I had a nice time tonight. I’m happy we ran into each other.” Megatron leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Rodimus’ cheek. “Sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow.”

While Megatron wanted nothing more than to follow Rodimus inside, he was determined to follow Drift's advice. He'd show Rodimus that he wanted him for more than just sex. And he knew that if Rodimus got him into his berth, he wouldn't be able to resist, so he abstained. Even as his array and spark both throbbed, unfulfilled.

The next chance to prove himself showed quickly. Movie night. Many couples started with that. While they were hardly in the position for a “first date,” Megatron knew this was a safe bet.

He got Rodimus alone at the earliest opportunity. In their office—with the door closed— just as their shared shift was drawing to a close.

“Would you like to go to movie night with me?” 

Rodimus looked confused. “Since when have you wanted to go to movie night?”

Megatron shrugged. “I just thought it might be fun.”

“I mean… sure. I was planning on going anyway.”

“I know. I just wanted to go with you.” Megatron smiled. “I could pick you up and we could walk there together.” 

“Uh, yeah…” Rodimus’ spoiler fell a little along with his gaze. “We can do that.”

“There's something I'd like to do after, as well.”

“Oh yeah?” Rodimus perked up at that. He smiled that Rodimus smile that he'd been missing dearly. “Something that takes two?”

Not missing his insinuation, Megatron said, “Something that I need you for.” He kept all traces of lust from his tone. Instead, he filled his gaze and field with affection. “There's a wonderful view on the ship that I've yet to behold, and I'm told it's best viewed with someone you care about.”

Whatever excitement Rodimus had had vanished like water on hot metal. He looked… disappointed? Megatron couldn't tell. In fact, contrary to everything Drift had told him, Rodimus didn't seem to want to be around him at all anymore.

“Oh. You mean the lookout deck?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but… yes.”

“I thought you meant… never mind.”

Megatron couldn’t help but smile, knowing exactly what he'd meant. “So… will you?”

Rodimus nodded.

“It's a date.” 

Rodimus’ optics went wide for just a moment. Only a moment, though. That sad face was back.

“I don't have to go with you, if you don't want me to,” Megatron said gently.

“No, I want to!” Rodimus needily grabbed his arm then immediately released it. 

Smiling softly, Megatron said, “I’m glad.” 

He pulled Rodimus in by his waist and was elated when he reciprocated, his hands resting on his shoulders. Like a practiced dance, he leaned down and Rodimus stretched up, and their lips met in the middle. It took all of his willpower to keep his hands on his waist. He found just a bit more to keep their kiss chaste when Rodimus moaned quietly and tried to deepen it.

“You know, we've got a little time before movie night,” Rodimus said as Megatron released him. He checked his chronometer. “Looks like just enough time for you to blow my processor. So… whatcha say?”

Megatron clenched his fists and set his jaw, dismissing a prompt from his interface array. Damn his curves. Damn that smirk. 

He'd never wanted him more.

“I… have something I need to get done, first,” Megatron lied. “I'll pick you up later.”

He made a swift exit and didn’t stop moving until he was in his habsuite. The door hadn't even fully shut before his spike was out, weeping prefluid. He wanted nothing more than to sink inside of Rodimus’ velvety warmth, hearing him moan his name as his frame curved against him, his hands all over that fiery plating.

Megatron lay down on his berth and had to stop himself from calling Rodimus. It had become second nature at this point. Arousal led him to one answer: Rodimus.

He needed to take care of this. 

Wrapping his hand around his spike, Megatron let his imagination take hold. He sifted through every erotic memory of his vivacious co-captain. Every sultry look, every caress from gentle hands, and every time he'd slipped inside of Rodimus’ frame.

He imagined he'd acquiesced. He brought Rodimus with him, and his ever-eager lover had his lips wrapped around his spike. A sight Megatron would never tire of. And a sight he'd never truly believe when his smaller frame easily took him to the hilt. His tight intake was heaven around the head of his spike.

“Rodimus,” Megatron whispered on a laboured exvent.

He moved his hand faster, imagining Rodimus swallowing around his girth. Not once showing any indication that it was too much. 

“I bet you want my valve,” his dream Rodimus said when he pulled off, still pressing warm kisses along his shaft. 

Megatron nodded. “Please.”

As his fantasy Rodimus sank down on his spike with a pleasured sigh, he squeezed his spike in a poor imitation. When he needed more, he increased his speed and pretended that Rodimus was simply too impatient. He could vividly see him bouncing on his spike, his tempting spoiler flapping as charge danced across his frame.

“Fuck me, fuck me!” Rodimus screamed.

Megatron thrust up into his hand. He wished more than anything that he had curvaceous hips to anchor himself onto. Thighs to caress. Just a pretty package to look at overall.

It wasn't enough. He wanted more. More of Rodimus. He wanted far more than just his frame; he wanted his processor, his presence, his soul. He wanted to feel his spark in his hands. He wanted to feel their life forces become one. But more than anything, he wanted Rodimus to want to be his.

He pulled up memory files he’d tried to repress. Files of a jealous, angry, violent mech, but these memories held a Rodimus he so longed for.

“I'm yours,” Rodimus said. It was said with such conviction that even now, completely lucid, he believed it. “I'm yours. Only yours. Only you get to touch me this way.”

“Mine,” Megatron whispered. “All mine. I'll take care of you, Rodimus, I'll treasure you. You'll want for nothing.” 

It was when his imaginary Rodimus smiled at him and whispered, “I love you,” that he overloaded. He came deep within him, holding him close as he whispered the same sentiment back. 

When the bliss faded, Megatron opened his optics to his cold, empty room. 

“I love you, Rodimus of Nyon,” he said out loud. He hoped he could say it enough that when he finally went to do it, he could find the courage. He was his weakness and his strength.

He’d find that strength. In blue optics, fiery plating, and a larger-than-life personality, he’d find it.

Rodimus chewed on the end of his index finger. He'd long since chewed the paint off of all of them, and now was eating into the sensitive metal. If he weren't so stupidly anxious, he might be annoyed with himself for falling back onto his bad habits.

Stupid Megatron. 

He'd self-serviced himself to four unsatisfying overloads and was still frustratingly horny. And now he had no time to go anywhere or call anyone because Megatron was going to be here at any moment and not blow his processor. Because he was clearly off blowing someone else's processor.

Which was why this was all so confusing. Why invite him to movie night? Why take him to the lookout deck? It just didn't make sense.

Rodimus’ spoiler fell. Deep down, he knew what this was. This had happened to him before.

With Drift.

His spark ached like nothing else. He thought after it happened the first time, he'd be used to it. But it was worse. With Drift, at least he saw Ratchet coming. With Megatron… who could it be?

The only mech Rodimus ever saw with Megatron on any regular basis was Magnus. Maybe he'd finally convinced him that he was too much of a slut to hang around with, and certainly wasn't conjunx material. Which was stupid because Megatron was just as horny.

Rodimus sighed and then startled at the knock at his door. For half a moment, he considered faking being sick or just downright blowing him off, but his spark, as sore as it was, led him to his destruction.

Opening the door, Rodimus gave Megatron as convincing a smile as he could manage. “Hey.”

Megatron seemed to relax when he saw him. “Hello. Ready to go?”

“Yep.”

Rodimus froze when Megatron stooped down to press a kiss to his cheek. His tank fluttered with trapped seekers in that wonderfully horrible way. 

And left him fragging confused. Even more so when Megatron put a hand on the small of his back to lead him.

At least Drift had been consistent.

Neither of them said a word as they made their way to Swerve's. Tonight's movie choice had been so popular that they couldn't fit in someone's habsuite anymore. There was already quite a crowd, so they made quite a stir when they showed up together, with Megatron's hand still on his back. It was maybe the only time he wished Megatron would stop touching him.

After a brief almost-silence, whispers started up among the crowd. A few bots approached Swerve and gave him some shanix, and he updated the betting wall. Rodimus didn't know what they were betting on. He'd ask Swerve later.

“Roddy!”

Rodimus turned, finding Drift waving him over.

“We saved you guys some seats!”

Rodimus stifled a relieved sigh. At least he'd have Drift to talk to when things inevitably got awkward with Megatron. Unfortunately, he was giving Rodimus a sly smile, glancing down where he and Megatron were touching.

“Thanks,” Rodimus said as he sat.

“Are you guys on a date?” Drift whispered in his audial.

Rodimus shoved him in answer.

“He's soooo in love with—” 

Rodimus shoved him harder. “Shut it!”

“Will you two stop behaving like sparklings?” Ratchet said.

“You became conjunx with Rodimus’ amica,” Megatron said. “You should have expected this.” He wrapped an arm around Rodimus’ waist and tugged him closer. “But I’ll make sure he keeps his hands to himself.”

His face warm, Rodimus had little choice but to lean against Megatron. Not that he didn’t want to, but it would just make the rejection so much worse. The fact that he seemed hellbent on not giving him one last ride before he did it was what pissed him off the most.

“What was the movie called again?” Megatron asked.

“Back to the Future,” Rodimus answered. “Not sure you'll like it. It's not really up your alley.”

Giving Rodimus a little squeeze, Megatron said, “Having you here is enjoyment enough.”

Rodimus swallowed. He was saying all the right things. He'd called this a date. He had his arm around him and was saying he just liked being with him.

Maybe… maybe he did actually like him?

Rodimus couldn't help but smile. Aching hope filled his spark until he felt he might burst from it all. He barely paid any attention to the movie. Not that it mattered since he'd seen it a million times before, but this… with Megatron. This was all new.

He really tried to curb his expectations. Even as Megatron stole a few kisses throughout the movie. It just felt so nice and right, but he didn’t feel like he could truly believe it. 

Still. By the time the credits rolled, Rodimus had his arm around Megatron, too, and their free hands had met tentatively in Megatron's lap, their fingers interlacing. It was so sweet and perfect and Rodimus felt light as air and—

The lights came on. Something on Megatron's plating caught his optic. A faint sheen; a barely noticeable spot. And yet, it was all Rodimus could focus on.

Transfluid.

Rodimus’ spark dropped. Apparently that “something” Megatron had to get done was definitely “some one.” Whatever this had been, it was all a lie.

He knew he had no right to be upset. They weren't exclusive in any capacity, and they'd never said they couldn't do stuff like this. It didn't have to mean anything. Obviously it meant nothing to Megatron. 

It still stung.

“Something wrong?”

Rodimus whipped his helm up and slapped on a smile. “Nope! All good!”

Megatron smiled back and despite it all, Rodimus melted. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Shall we?” Megatron stood and offered his hand. Like the idiot he was, Rodimus took it.

The entire walk over, Rodimus braced himself for the conversation. I’m in love with someone else. We can’t do this anymore. It’s been fun, but we want different things now. The not-break-up break-up. Which was somehow worse than an actual break-up. 

At least he could give Megatron points for the not-break-up break-up location. He’d have something nice to look at, he never came here so it was fine that it was ruined for him, and there weren’t any nearby airlocks for him to throw himself out. He’d at least have time on the walk over to decide if it was really worth it.

Fresh confusion made him short-circuit when, awash in the starlight, Megatron dipped him. For a brief moment, before their lips touched, Rodimus stared into those gorgeous red optics and allowed his spark to flare. He let his feelings consume him in processor, frame, and soul, losing himself to the unreality where someone loved him. The same world he’d visited too often with Drift. This time, though, he made sure to leave as soon as he’d arrived.

Maybe one day he could stay there. 

Maybe.

As he was righted, Rodimus caught the flash of dried transfluid and remembered why he couldn’t. Megatron wasn’t his and would never be his.

“Beautiful,” Megatron whispered.

“The stars are pretty,” Rodimus agreed, avoiding Megatron’s gaze.

“While that’s true, I wasn’t talking about the stars.” He made it much harder to avoid his gaze when he cupped his cheek, staring at him in a way that had Rodimus’ tank doing flips.

“Yeah, well, we're here to look at stars, yeah?” Rodimus danced out of his hold, making a beeline for the closest bench.

The stars really were beautiful. Any window on the ship usually gave some view, but their current course had a blue and magenta nebula spanning nearly the entirety of the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He couldn't help it. He glanced at Megatron. The sight he found had his vents hitching and his spark pounding. The colours splashed gorgeously across his silver plating and Rodimus wanted nothing more than to press himself against that canvas.

“I know I'm supposed to be looking out the window, but I'm finding it hard to look away,” Megatron said.

Rodimus swallowed, feeling his optics on him. He knew if he met his gaze he was done for, so he just kept his optics on the window. He ended up leaning onto Megatron so he'd have a harder time staring. And for… other reasons.

“I may have made many bad choices throughout my life, but I wouldn't change a thing if it meant I would end up here with you,” Megatron said.

“Not even one thing?” Rodimus teased.

“Maybe one thing,” Megatron said. Regret leaked into his tone. “As long as we end up here.”

“You're pretty happy on the Lost Light, huh?”

“This is the happiest I've ever been,” Megatron said softly.

“Yeah. I'm happy here, too. I wish our quest never had to end.” Rodimus fiddled with Megatron's fingers. Their quest ending would at least mean he didn't have to deal with his problem anymore. 

But it still made him ache.

“Me, too.”

Even knowing he shouldn't, Rodimus indulged himself again. He reasoned that he should make the most of whatever waning affection Megatron had for him. It would hurt all the same whether it happened now or later.

“May I read you a poem?”

Rodimus bit his lower lip when it wobbled. He was glad Megatron couldn't see his face when he said, strained, “Sure.”

While it was a long shot, Rodimus hoped it wasn't another love poem. He didn't need to hear all the flowery words and sun metaphors for this apparently amazing person who just makes him feel like the centre of the universe.

“I don't have to.”

“I want to hear it,” Rodimus lied. He followed it up with the truth. “Your poetry's really good.”

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

Rodimus shrugged. “I know I'm a good bot to take them for a test drive.”

“... Right.”

“Lay it on me, Megs.”

The hand Rodimus had been playing with left to reach into Megatron's subspace. He curled it into a fist, missing the warmth. 

He really loved his hands. Even just holding it.

He'd miss that.

Rodimus shifted so his audial was on Megatron's chest. If he had to listen to the poem meant for someone else, he'd at least enjoy how his voice rumbled through his vents. 

Of course, it was all about the light brought to his life, but this one was more melancholy. Along with the many— many— metaphors about the sun, he also alluded to a dark shadow tainting that light. This darkness worried it would snuff out all that the sun offered, and that he may leave him less bright. Or worse.

“Sounds like you're describing an eclipse,” Rodimus said.

Megatron was silent for a while. “Does it?”

“I mean, yeah. The sun's light gets blocked by a moon for a bit—and it is dark—but then the sun comes back out.” Rodimus shrugged. “Just what I'm hearing. Probably not the intent.”

“It wasn’t,” Megatron agreed, “but I prefer that interpretation. A solar eclipse is a sight to behold. I've only ever seen one.”

“Never seen one.”

“Never?”

Rodimus shrugged again. “Most of my life was spent fighting in the war.”

Megatron leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Rodimus’ helm. Warmth bloomed from the sweet act. 

Did he have to keep doing that shit?

“If we ever have the opportunity, I'll show you one.”

“Yeah, okay, Megs. Like that'll happen.” 

“I promise.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep. You're probably not gonna be around that long.” Though it was the truth, and though Rodimus needed that cruel reminder, he still wished he hadn't said it out loud.

For a long while, neither of them said a word. Rodimus braced himself for Megatron to use this opportunity to finally end things, but he didn't.

“I will show you,” Megatron said quietly. “Even if I must guide you from the afterlife.”

“Y'know, they also floated the ‘eternal-containment’ idea. Like, kept alive and imprisoned forever. So, what if they do that, huh?”

Rodimus kept his gaze on the floor as Megatron extracted him from his hold, but kept his hands on his shoulders.

“Why are you bringing this up?” Megatron asked, his tone tired and sorrowful.

Shrugging again, Rodimus said, “It's the truth, isn't it?”

A gentle caress to his jaw had Rodimus finally looking at Megatron. Big mistake. The way his spark and frame begged for him to get as close as he could was almost impossible to fight. Especially with the way he was looking at him. Rodimus wanted nothing more than to take that sadness from those beautiful red optics. He wanted them to crinkle with happiness. He wanted him to smile. And more than anything, he wanted to be the reason he smiled.

“No matter what happens, Rodimus, know that I will do whatever it takes to remain by your side.”

Rodimus’ optics widened until they almost took up his whole face. He was forced to close them when Megatron leaned down to kiss him, soft and slow. He wrapped his arms around his neck to keep him there, even though it seemed like he had no intention of pulling away.

He was getting his hopes up again. 

“It's getting late,” Megatron said against his lips before diving back in.

“Then take me home,” Rodimus said at the next break, an insinuation in his tone.

They parted, but Megatron took his hand so they were still touching. Rodimus held it like a lifeline. He was so worried that the next time he slipped away would be the last time he saw him like this.

It was a quiet walk, but not an awkward one. Every now and then Megatron would give his hand a squeeze and glance at him. Each time Rodimus got a little thrill.

All he had to do was get him inside. If he got him inside, if he could get Megatron's hands on him, he knew he could get him to berth. Maybe if he reminded him of just how good his valve was, he could make him forget about whoever he'd been going to for overloads.

Though, could he really blame him? Maybe if he hadn't gone to Blaster, Megatron never would've looked elsewhere. Maybe he'd put himself in this mess.

Now at his door, Rodimus pulled out all the stops. He slowly typed in his room code, glancing over his shoulder with sultry optics. He stuck his aft out and let his spoiler wave temptingly. He couldn't help but smile at seeing Megatron's hungry gaze taking all of this in.

Rodimus stepped inside, tugging Megatron behind him, but he couldn't get him over the threshold.

“You're coming in,” Rodimus said. Not a question.

Voice strained, Megatron said, “I can't.”

Rodimus frowned. “Why not?”

“I…” 

Rodimus waited for whatever lame excuse he had. None came.

“Night,” he said curtly, shutting the door. 

Frustrated and aroused, Rodimus went to berth and tried for the second time to satisfy his horniness. It didn't work. He ended the day the same way he'd started it: alone and missing Megatron.

Stupid Megatron.

Megatron scoured every nearby galaxy for any viable planets. He scrutinized every star chart for hours, even neglecting his important work to do so. If Brainstorm hadn’t reassured him that they were still on track, he wouldn’t be on what felt like a fool’s errand, but he would do it.

For Rodimus.

After many late, sleepless, and lonely nights, he finally found what he was looking for. He quickly drafted up a request for shore leave and got his first good night’s sleep since he’d held Rodimus in his arms.

The first thing he did the next morning was hand Ultra Magnus the request form.

“You're requesting shore leave?” Ultra Magnus asked, incredulous.

“The planet’s uninhabited,” Megatron said, too tired to explain. Not that he expected his colleague to care for his reasoning. Still, he added, “There’s going to be a solar eclipse.”

Ultra Magnus raised an optic ridge. “And you think this is a good enough reason to derail our quest?”

“Have you ever seen a solar eclipse?”

“No.”

Megatron put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a sight to behold, and I’m sure you’re far from the only one on this ship who hasn’t seen one.”

“Well… it has been a while since we’ve had shore leave.”

“I believe it will do wonders for our crew's morale.”

“Very well. I'll update our course.”

Relief pulsed through Megatron's exhausted field. “Thank you, Minimus.”

He nodded back, but Megatron's attention was stolen by a fiery presence at the door. The debilitating flare of his spark had him rooted to the spot, staring.

Primus, but he missed him.

Rodimus noticed him, but his expression didn't change. He crossed the bridge without a word, heading straight into their office and locking the door.

He'd leave him alone. At least until the shore leave was finalized and he could give him the good news. Which, thankfully, came before the end of their shift.

Megatron knocked on the office door.

“What?” came the annoyed response.

“It's me. May I come in?”

“You know the code, don't you?” Rodimus snapped.

Megatron took that as a “yes” and typed in the code. With Magnus’ optics trained on him, he saw fit to leave the door open.

“We're having shore leave in a few days,” Megatron said.

Rodimus raised an interested optic ridge. “Any race tracks?”

Megatron stifled a laugh. If only he knew. “It’s uninhabited, but if there's clear enough terrain, I'm sure you can stretch your tires. But there's something I need to show you while we're there.”

Rodimus cocked his helm.

Smiling fondly at him, Megatron said, “I said I would keep my promise.”

Rodimus just looked more confused.

“Have you already forgotten?”

Megatron could tell the gears were turning in Rodimus’ helm, but they weren't meshing.

“The solar eclipse?”

Rodimus’ optics lit up. “Really?”

Megatron nodded.

Excitement surged from Rodimus’ field and hit Megatron square in the chest. He found himself just as excited, but it was when Rodimus jumped up into his arms that his spark started racing. He didn’t care if Ultra Magnus was watching—he didn’t care if the universe was watching—he spun his co-captain around while he laughed joyfully.

When he finally put Rodimus down, he was vibrating with excitement. “You’d better not be lying to me,” he said.

“Never.”

Rodimus bounced on his toes, biting his lip while his optics glimmered that brilliant blue.

“But… we have to finish all of our paperwork before we’re allowed to go.” Megatron immediately invalidated his “never,” but he wasn’t about to pass up on an opportunity to get Rodimus to work. A little white lie every now and then didn’t do any harm.

Rodimus’ spoiler fell. “Since when?”

“Since that was Magnus’ condition.” Megatron felt a little bad throwing his friend under the bus, but in his defense, it did sound like something he would do.

Rodimus pouted.

“I could help you,” Megatron offered.

“I don’t think you’d fit under the desk,” Rodimus joked.

“With the paperwork.”

“That would help me with the paperwork.”

Megatron rolled his optics fondly. “Let’s get this done.”

Megatron watched Rodimus’ optics widen as he took in the nearly flat terrain. In fact, beyond a mountain range in the distance, the only thing on the horizon was—

“Race you to that tree!” Drift shouted.

Revving his engine, Rodimus said, “Oh you're so on!”

“Count us in, Ratty?”

Ratchet crossed his arms. “No.”

Rodimus said in a rush, “Three, two, one, go!” He transformed only a few milliseconds before Drift, but he didn't notice that the ground he was on was much looser than where Drift was standing. What should have been an (albeit, undeserved) headstart had his tires spinning uselessly in loose sand. He did manage to cover Megatron from helm-to-pede, though.

Megatron frowned while Ratchet snickered.

“Dammit!” Rodimus’ tires finally caught, but Drift's victory was all but secured.

Megatron grumbled while he shook and brushed the dirt from his frame and watched Drift and Rodimus shrink on the horizon.

“You're sure you want to be conjunx with that?” Ratchet asked with an amused smile.

“You're one to talk,” Megatron said.

Ratchet shrugged. “You still have time.”

“I assume Drift has filled you in?”

“I know everything. Even though I wish I didn't.”

“Great,” Megatron said sarcastically.

As filthy as he was, and as displeased as he was to be on an organic planet, he couldn't help but smile as he watched Drift gloat his win and Rodimus argue about “unfairness.” He stomped his pedes like a petulant sparkling and his spoiler flapped angrily.

Yep. He was definitely in love, if that display didn't dissuade him.

“Don't hurt him.”

“Hm?” Megatron turned to face Ratchet. His face was set in a frown, but not his usual frown. 

“You heard me.”

Megatron made sure his face conveyed the seriousness of Ratchet's words. There was a veiled threat there.

“I won't,” he promised.

Ratchet nodded, and that was that.

Megatron turned back to watch Rodimus and Drift rolling around in the dirt, seemingly wrestling. Those two turned into sparklings the moment anyone turned their backs on them.

“Great,” Ratchet muttered. 

Before either of them could say anything, Magnus’ voice bellowed from the top of the ramp.

“Rodimus Prime, stop that this instance!”

“What're you gonna do, call the cops?” Rodimus called back, after which he and Drift laughed.

“That is no way for a captain to behave!” 

Though Megatron couldn't hear him from this distance, from the way he was opening and closing his hand, it was clear he was mocking him. 

Ultra Magnus grumbled as he made his way down the ramp, surely following his precise directions to the optimal latitude and longitude to witness the eclipse. He'd been quite excited when he showed Megatron his plans, and Megatron had marked down the location to find some quiet place nearby. Nearby, but far enough that Ultra Magnus wouldn't disturb them.

A spot just for him and Rodimus.

He and Ratchet made their way over to Drift and Rodimus, who by now were just excitedly talking about the upcoming eclipse.

“Why don't you and Drift have a little more fun before the eclipse?” Megatron suggested. “I can send you the coordinates for where to meet me.”

“You're coming, too, right Drift?” Rodimus turned sparkling optics towards his amica.

Drift's smile turned strained as he said, “Actually, Ratchet and I wanted a little private time. If that's okay?”

Though Megatron was sure there was some truth to that statement, he'd already asked Drift to make sure that he and Rodimus would be alone. He'd been a huge help.

“Oh.” Rodimus’ spoiler fell. “Yeah. Okay.”

“We still have a bit of time to race, though, right, Ratty?”

Blushing slightly at the pet name, Ratchet said, “Yes.” 

“I'll meet you here,” Megatron said, sending Rodimus the coordinates. “And don't be late. The cosmos waits for no bot.”

“I won't,” Rodimus said. 

Megatron considered leaving it at that, but since Drift and Ratchet weren't paying attention…

Megatron stroked up Rodimus’ chin, watching his optics widen. He softened his own gaze before leaning down to give him a long, but chaste, kiss. He left him with flushed cheeks and a flapping spoiler.

“I’ll see you later.” Megatron smiled.

Rodimus just nodded, a little mystified.

Megatron's smile grew as he walked away, feeling like he was doing everything right today. As long as everything he had planned went off without a hitch, he was sure to win Rodimus’ spark. It helped that his gift was nearly complete. 

The route to Megatron's chosen spot had little to look at. At times there was a rock, a hill, or incredibly sparse foliage, but mostly it was flat nothingness. Not that he particularly cared. His only qualm was the lack of shade from the blistering sun. It was no wonder he hadn't seen any lifeforms.

He found a good rock for them both to sit on, then simply waited. He heard Rodimus’ racer engine before he saw him, and his spark skipped a beat.

Ah, there was that bite. He'd thought it was his spark rejecting after so many frame changes, but it turns out it was simply missing a reason to want to be in a frame. A reason for living.

“I'm not late, am I?” Rodimus asked as he transformed, ventilating heavily.

Smiling amusedly at him, Megatron said, “The sun's still here, isn't it?”

“Shut up.” Rodimus shoved him playfully.

Megatron grabbed him by the waist before he could get too far, pulling him in close. His normally warm frame was even hotter from racing and too hot with the sun beating down, but Megatron didn't care. All he wanted was to be close to him.

“Did you have fun?” Megatron asked. He stroked his finials, no doubt distracting Rodimus from answering.

His engine purred as he leaned into the touch. “Mhm.”

“Good.”

Some lewd memories tainted this lovely moment. Particularly the one where Rodimus placed his hands over his still-idling engine, telling him just how horny racing made him.

He wondered if he was wet right now.

Megatron swallowed and had to dismiss a prompt from his array. He was not about to ruin a near-flawless day because he couldn't control his libido. Not to mention, he already had dirt in all of his seams, he didn't need any beneath his spike plates.

If he made Rodimus his, he could have him whenever he desired. He had to remember that.

Megatron slid his hand down to tilt Rodimus’ chin up. He kissed him softly, unhurriedly, and with as much love and passion as his old, tired frame could muster. When they parted, he gestured to the rock, sitting down once Rodimus had settled. He wasted no time in getting an arm around his waist and his spark soared when Rodimus leaned against him.

It felt easy again.

Unlike most of their most recent silences, this one felt content. They simply enjoyed the presence of the other. The touch, the warmth—even on a scalding planet. Megatron was just so happy to be with him that he missed the beginning of the eclipse.

“Oh, look! Look!” Rodimus eagerly gestured up to the sky.

Megatron deployed his UV-blocking lenses, and when he turned his gaze heavenward, he saw the edge of a dark circle beginning to overtake the sun. His mouth dropped open with awe, watching its slow advance.

Rodimus had been right about his poem. Maybe he was the darkness that would be Rodimus’ undoing, or perhaps his darkness would create something beautiful with Rodimus’ radiant light.

He wouldn't know until he took that leap.

Megatron glanced at Rodimus, smiling to himself when he saw his slack jaw. He forced himself to actually watch the eclipse. He could stare at Rodimus later.

The sun was slowly engulfed by the moon until only the shimmering corona remained and the sky went dark. The temperature drop was noticeable enough for Rodimus to start shivering, so Megatron saw fit to share his warmth. Still, his personal sun never took his optics off of the sky.

Just as quickly as it had come, the moon continued its advance across the sky, revealing the blistering sun once more.

They sat in further silence for a few more minutes.

“Wow. That was… wow.” Rodimus just kept staring, his UV-blocking lenses doing nothing to block the joy and wonder in his optics. They did darken them to a deep blue, but they were just as beautiful. 

And just as easy to get lost in.

Megatron stood without a word, offering him his hand. For the first time in a long while, Rodimus took it without hesitation. In fact, there was no hesitation in any of his actions today. It warmed his spark to return to this closeness.

Once he was on his pedes, Megatron tugged Rodimus in by the waist, pulling a quiet gasp from his intake. He held him close, humming a tune while they gently swayed.

“What are you doing?” Rodimus asked with a smile below blushing cheeks.

“Dancing with you.”

“There's no music.”

“That's why I'm making it,” Megatron said with a small chuckle, continuing his humming. 

Rodimus tripped over his own pedes, but Megatron kept him from falling. He stared down, an endearing determination taking over his face.

“Don't look at your pedes,” Megatron instructed gently. He tilted his chin up. “When I step forward, you step back.” He did just that, Rodimus following his lead. “And when I step back…” He smiled as Rodimus stepped forward. “Exactly. Just trust me and follow my lead.”

“Oh hell no, that's how they tried to take my ship away!” Rodimus smiled cheekily up at him.

Megatron laughed, his frame feeling as light as air. “I'll let you have the captain's chair next if you let me lead now.”

After giving him a more genuine smile, Rodimus tucked himself against Megatron's frame. “Deal.” He shut his optics with a pleased sigh and slid a hand up his chest until it settled on his shoulder.

What a perfect moment. Here they were, alone, on a random planet in a random galaxy far from home, and yet it felt like home. A home with Matrix-blue optics, obnoxiously bright, fiery plating, and a spark to match. A spark he wanted a piece to carry with him always. 

Megatron hummed through a few songs, never losing any ground with how close Rodimus was. With his helm against his chest, he could surely hear his spark. He willed him to listen to it. To hear how he loved him so.

Megatron's internal alarm interrupted them. 

“We have to head back, now,” Megatron said regretfully.

“Do we have to?” Rodimus’ voice was equally dreamy and whiny.

“Only if you're okay with being stuck here forever,” Megatron said.

Rodimus shrugged. “It won't be so bad, if you're here.”

It took Megatron a few moments to speak. His spark was pounding too loudly in his audials to think.

“Drift will never forgive me if I steal his amica away,” he said. “So, for his sake, I need to make sure I return you safe and sound.”

“He's got Ratchet.”

“Will Ratchet go racing with him or play video games with him?”

“Hm. Fair point. He’d be lost without me.” 

Megatron chuckled and indulged himself with just a few more minutes of uninterrupted closeness. He still made sure they were back only a little late. 

It was hard to get back to a regular work day. He just kept looking at Rodimus and found him looking back countless times. And every time he caught him staring, Rodimus would flash a smile and maybe a flirty wink.

Neither of them were much use on the bridge that day. Which, unfortunately, left a good deal of pertinent paperwork for them to finish after hours. Fortunately it afforded them the privacy of their office, and while it took them longer to finish, it meant they could take a break or two to fondle each other and make-out.

Of course, Rodimus tried to push it farther than that, but Megatron kept them relatively focused.

Relatively.

“We really need to get this done,” Megatron said, brushing speedster lips.

With barely a spared glance, Rodimus messily signed his name on the bottom. It passed through the line it was meant to rest on and was barely legible.

“There. Done.” Rodimus dove right back in, moaning softly into Megatron's mouth when he pet the plane of his spoiler. He shifted his hand back to his waist so as not to tease him. But he couldn't help how his spike pressed at its cover.

“Can we go home now?” Rodimus asked. His face and spoiler were flushed and his optics had deepened to the blue Megatron only saw when Rodimus was already soaked. 

He had to resist temptation. He would show him. He loved him and not just what his frame offered.

Megatron nodded. He missed Rodimus’ warmth the moment he hopped off of him. He instinctively grabbed for his hand, finding it waiting for him.

He wished his gift was ready. All he wanted to do was confess to the feelings burning through his frame and allow himself to feel Rodimus the way his array was begging for. But it needed to be perfect. He deserved far more than Megatron could give, but he could do his best.

So, here they were again, outside of Rodimus’ door. A burning desire growling through his lines. He could resist.

He would.

Here they were again. Outside of his door. This time, Rodimus was sure Megatron was coming in with him. 

“I've gotta thank you for keeping your promise,” Rodimus said. 

“Your joy is thanks enough.”

“Nope, not good enough.” Grabbing him by the collar faring, Rodimus tugged him down until they were face-to-face. Dropping his voice and his optics to Megatron’s lips, he said, “You're going to come inside and you're going to fuck me until you've drained your tanks.”

He saw Megatron swallow.

Rodimus smirked. “Sound good?”

“I… I can't.”

“Why not?”

Megatron didn't say anything. 

“Why. Not?”

“I just can't.”

Rodimus scoffed. “Whatever.” He shoved Megatron away and shut the door in his face. 

Rodimus flopped face-first onto his berth. His void-of-Megatron berth. The berth he should be getting railed in, but very much wasn't.

He called Drift.

“Well, it's official,” Rodimus said.

“It is?” Drift sounded excited. “How did he do it?”

“He's not doing anything,” Rodimus said miserably. “This is the third time I've invited him in and he's said ‘no.’ So, it's official… whoever the other guy is won.” He sighed. “I just wish Megatron would just tell me instead of whatever he's doing. Like, he makes it seem like he still wants to be around me and keeps inviting me to do stuff, but he just won't fuck me anymore. I don't know if he's trying to let me down easy or if he's trying to just be friends or whatever, but I just can't be around him like this.” He groaned into the berth. “I'm never gonna get spiked that good ever again.”

“Oh, Roddy… maybe he's just… maybe he's tired?”

Rodimus scoffed. “For weeks? You're telling me that he's been too tired to fuck me for weeks? Nah, he's just getting overloads somewhere else.”

“I'm sure there's a reason.”

“Yeah. It's the other guy. The guy he's writing all the poetry about. How can I compete with that?” Rodimus sighed. “Maybe Blaster’s still awake? I'm so fucking horny.”

“Do not call Blaster!”

“Uuuuuugh. You're right. He sucks in comparison.” Rodimus whimpered pathetically. He felt like crying, but also like he had nothing left to give.

“Listen, Roddy, I uh… Ratchet's trying to sleep.” Now Drift sounded annoyed. “You can still text me, but I gotta go. Just… Just don't call anyone, okay?”

“Geez, I'm not! I'll just take care of myself or something.”

“Don't do that either!”

“What? Why not?”

Drift hung up without answering.

“Fuck me, I guess,” Rodimus muttered to himself. Or not, since he apparently wasn't allowed? Why would Drift care if he self-serviced or not?

Rodimus just miserably stared at the wall. He was sad and horny and he was going to be alone forever. 

Maybe… maybe he just had to accept that. He wasn't the mech someone would fall in love with, he was just the fall back mech. He was the guy someone called when they had no other option or were just looking for something quick and casual. The guaranteed overload guy. The cum and go. He wasn't even meant to be friends with benefits, because they always just ended up finding someone else.

He really wanted to call someone. He didn't care if it was good or not, he just wanted a distraction from this sparkache.

Anything to make him stop feeling.

Megatron lay down in his cold, empty berth. Every part of him felt on fire in the best and worst way possible, but it was dwindling. His flame burned brightly in a room too far from him. 

He stared at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing wrong. Rodimus had been so happy. It seemed like they were finally getting back to normal—that Rodimus did want him. Didn’t he understand? He wasn’t refusing him because he didn’t want him, he was refusing him so he would see that he wanted him for so much more.

No.

That he needed him.

His array ached for release, but his spark ached more. He longed to confess. He longed to hear the words he wasn't brave enough to say to him while he was awake. 

Megatron sighed. Well, he might not be able to quell his longing on his own, his arousal on the other hand…

Shutting his optics, Megatron conjured up a fantasy Rodimus. A fantasy that loved him and wanted him just as fiercely. A Rodimus that held him close and refused to let go as he rocked into his velvety warmth, his quiet moans loud in his audials. 

His spike pressurized into his waiting hand.

“Megs, oh, Megs! Deeper!”

Rodimus’ ventilatations stuttered as he bottomed out, his ceiling nodes snug against the head of his spike. He bit Megatron’s lip as he captured his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss.

“I love you,” Megatron whispered to his empty room.

Fantasy Rodimus opened beautiful, lustful optics, staring right into Megatron’s as he cupped his cheeks and whispered, “I lo—”

His phone rang. Megatron growled in frustration, but checked it just in case it was Rodimus, but it was just Drift. He probably wanted to know how everything went, and that could wait until tomorrow.

Megatron closed his optics once more, losing himself to his beautiful delusions. But it seemed like every time he got to the part where Rodimus said it back, he got another call or message. Growling frustratedly, he checked to see what was so important.

Everything was from Drift. Three missed calls followed by a message that read: pick up your damn phone! Then another missed call. Then another message: I know you're awake! Followed by two more missed calls.

Megatron's brow furrowed in confusion as he started to type in Drift's frequency when yet another call came in.

This one, he answered. Before Megatron could say anything, Drift said, “I'm coming over.” 

Chapter Text

Megatron managed to depressurize his spike moments before Drift started pounding on his habsuite door. He burst in the moment Megatron opened it, his optics flaring with anger.

“Megatron, what the hell are you doing?” 

“Trying to sleep,” he lied.

“I meant: what are you doing with Rodimus?”

“What you… told me to do?”

“This isn’t what I told you to do!”

“I took him to see his first solar eclipse and we danced. How can I get more romantic than that?”

“And after that?”

“We had work.”

“You know what I mean! After that!”

“I walked him to his habsuite.”

Drift leaned forward expectantly. “And?”

Megatron awkwardly averted his gaze and said, “I kissed him goodnight.”

“Did he, I don’t know, ask you to come in?”

“Of course he did. He has every time I’ve dropped him off. And I’ve said ‘no’ every time.”

Drift face-palmed. “How did you lead the Decepticons for so long when you’re this dense?”

“You told me to show him I want him for more than just sex!”

“Yes! More! As in still including sex!”

Horrid realization dawned on him. That was why Rodimus had been so frosty with him! It all made sense now… He really was dense.

“I didn't realize I'd have to tell you to fuck him!” In those words and his near-murderous face, Megatron saw Deadlock. He imagined, had he not had a change of spark, Megatron might be dead now out of sheer frustration.

Drift sighed and checked his phone. “He’s still sending me mopey messages so he’s still awake. Go fix this.”

“Right. Yes. Thanks, Drift.”

Feeling incredibly stupid, Megatron practically sprinted to Rodimus’ room. He called him on the way, thankful that he even picked up.

“What?” 

“I changed my mind,” Megatron said. “Can we still…?”

“What, did the other guy not want you?”

“There’s no one else, Rodimus,” Megatron said softly. “Just you.”

The silence on the other end lasted for so long Megatron was convinced he’d hung up on him.

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’m already here.”

Megatron hung up and waited. It wasn’t long before the door slid open and Megatron had Rodimus in his arms again. This time, though, he swept him off of his pedes and kissed him as he carried him to his berth. 

“I’m sorry,” Megatron whispered as he lay Rodimus down.

“For… what?”

Megatron got between his legs and got his hands on his frame before he answered. “For making you think you were second best.” He cupped his cheek, looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the universe. Because he was. “Never doubt that I want you, Rodimus.”

Bright blue optics like tiny stars stared up at him with this mix of wonder and shock. Beneath them, his cheeks reddened above his slightly open mouth. Megatron claimed that mouth with a kiss. Again and again until every trace of doubt and sadness left Rodimus’ bubbly field. He never wanted to leave it. He could spend his life in the static of Rodimus and never grow tired of it.

He so badly wanted to tell him that he loved him and wanted to spend every moment by his side. How many moments they would have, well… he wouldn’t dwell on that.

Megatron kissed him all over. He slowed Rodimus down. He savoured every moment. Every movement. Every sound. He pressed his lips to his neck, feeling as much as he heard his name whispered to the night. 

I love you, I love you, I love you. He mouthed those words against his plating and willed Rodimus to know this was real. He truly considered just confessing now, but Rodimus deserved something grand. He'd waited his whole life for someone to love him so dearly, and he'd already waited this long.

Just a little longer.

“Beautiful,” Megatron whispered against his Autobrand. He pulled at the curve of his spinal strut, kissing down his frame to the source of the scalding heat.

He had to tell himself to slow down. He wanted to take his time and savour every little noise he made.

“Megs,” Rodimus said on the breath of a whisper.

And every utterance of his butchered name. Frankly, he'd let everyone call him that if it meant he could hear it on Rodimus’ breathy moan.

Megatron held his hips down when he tried to lift them to get his mouth on his array. Already his glistening valve and erect spike were on shameless display. A tempting sight, as always, but he'd abstained this long, he could resist for at least a few more minutes.

Rodimus didn't even complain when Megatron's mouth skirted his array to kiss at his sensitive inner thigh. He sighed as he sank further into the berth, his fingers ghosting across Megatron’s helmet.

While his mouth continued to savour or tease, depending on who you asked, Megatron's hand caressed his outer thigh. The other one found Rodimus’ hand and intertwined their digits. He took a calculated risk in assuming that Rodimus didn't speak any hand, and told him he loved him that way. His only response was a squeeze from his beloved.

“What would you like me to do?” Megatron asked softly. While he waited, he continued to kiss whatever part of Rodimus he could get his lips on.

“Anything,” came the breathy, desperate answer.

“I want to know what you want,” Megatron insisted. 

“Eat me out, please.” Rodimus lifted his hips, and again Megatron pushed them back down.

Megatron slowly shifted closer, his mouth unhurried as he kissed his way back up his thigh. The closer he got, the more Rodimus’ ventilations ratcheted up, stuttering out when he reached slick, throbbing metalmesh.

His moans are music to Megatron's audials. Try as he might to keep things slow, he can’t help but to bury himself in his valve; to drown in him. 

The ghosting touch from Rodimus turned into an inescapable grip. Not because he had the strength to hold him, but because Megatron lacked the willpower to deny him. As long as his hand was on his helm, pushing him against him, his helm would remain firmly between his quivering thighs.

Because of their mostly unplanned dry spell, Megatron assumes, Rodimus is already reeling in overload. He tastes it. He tastes his pleasure, and he hasn't nearly gotten his fill.

Hunger darkened his optics as he looked up at the gorgeous mech he'd yet to make his own. He had to focus on suckling Rodimus’ delectable little node, laving it with his glossa, or else he'd surely be professing his love against his delightfully warm plating. 

Look at me. Megatron hooked his hands around his thighs and tugged him closer, hoping to draw his attention, but he had his helm thrown back and his back arched.

“Look at me,” Megatron said. He briefly got his gaze.

“Megs, it's so good, it's too good, I can't—nnh!”

Lightly spanking him, Megatron now demanded, “Look at me.” When Rodimus still didn't, he growled, “That's an order.” 

He waited until Rodimus’ flickering, Matrix- blue optics found his own. Only then did he wrap his lips around his node again, swallowing every drop that made its way into his mouth.

“I'll never tire of how you taste,” Megatron said. He dove right back in, still holding Rodimus’ gaze. He wanted to see the pleasure as it rolled through his optics. He wanted to watch him struggle to follow his order and keep his own open.

Charge tickled his cheeks as Rodimus tried to close his thighs on his helm. He forced them back open, eliciting a gasp from Rodimus.

“Be my good boy,” Megatron said, ventilating heavily over his array.

“Fuck!” Rodimus closed his optics for just a moment, reopening them immediately.

“That's it,” Megatron praised. “You're my good boy, Rodimus.”

Whether it was the praise or Megatron wrapping a hand around Rodimus’ spike, his fiery little lover was arching off the berth and coating them both in spurts of hot transfluid. Megatron cleaned up the mess on his spike as it slowly depressurized. Oversensitive, Rodimus tried to twitch away.

“Want your spike,” Rodimus begged weakly.

Megatron sat up, spreading Rodimus’ legs further. His valve was still contracting from his overload, tempting him to come inside.

“Not yet,” Megatron said.

Rodimus whined. “Why not?”

“Because I don't want to yet. I'm not done with you.”

Rodimus frowned, and at first it looked petulant, but then his optics darkened. “What, can't get it up again? ‘Cause you were with that other guy?” He muttered the last bit, but Megatron still heard him.

In any other situation, the speed at which Megatron's spike pressurized might have been embarrassing. Right now, though? It was a reassurance.

“Trust me, Rodimus, I'm ready physically.” Megatron had to tilt Rodimus’ chin up to get his hungry gaze off of his spike. He gently wiped away the oral solvent dripping down his chin. “First, though, I'd like you to sit on my face.”

Licking his lips, Rodimus’ gaze dropped again. Donning a smirk when he looked back at Megatron's face, he said, “Sixty-nine?”

Megatron lifted an interested optic ridge.

“You can't tell me you haven't missed my mouth,” Rodimus said.

No matter where Megatron went next in life, that much would ring true. It was hard enough to find someone who could swallow the entirety of his spike and harder still to find someone with his talent. Of course, the true diamond in the rough was Rodimus’ eternal eagerness to get on his knees.

While he decided, Rodimus saw fit to get on his knees and drag Megatron down into a hot kiss, slick with Rodimus’ lubricant. He moaned as he tasted himself and Megatron cupped his helm to keep him there.

“C'mon, lemme suck you off,” Rodimus said breathily between kisses. “It's a much better use of my mouth.”

“What if I want to hear you moan my name?”

With a sly smile, Rodimus shifted so his mouth was right by Megatron's audial as he did just that, really drawing it out. A shiver ran up Megatron's spinal strut while his array throbbed with pure need.

“Fine. We'll do it your way.”

With a cute, excited wiggle, Rodimus shifted to the side of the berth to allow Megatron to lay down. He wasted no time in climbing atop his throne, and even less getting to his spike.

Megatron's optics shuttered as he let out a groan. The head of his spike flirted with the tight, but yielding, silicone ring protecting Rodimus’ intake. He stifled the urge to buck up into that warm, welcoming suction and instead took a page out of his own book: he enjoyed it for what it was. That, and it would be far too distracting from his glorious offering.

The first lick up his slit had Rodimus tensing and moaning around his spike. Delightful vibrations teased him as he worked up and down his shaft, employing that move of his.

“I want you to overload at least two more times before I get inside of you.”

Rodimus pulled off, resting his cheek against his spike. “Think you can get two more out of me before you shoot your load down my throat?”

Megatron twitched his spike. “I’ll give you as many overloads as you desire.”

“Two is good for now, but I want more once you get this thing all up in me.” Rodimus stroked up his spike. “It’s been stupidly long since you rearranged my internals.”

Megatron sighed. “I know. And please don’t call it that.”

“What?” Rodimus lifted up enough to cast a cheeky look over his shoulder. “‘Rearranging my internals?’”

Megatron prevented any more of Rodimus’ colourful descriptions of interface by latching onto his anterior node. While gently sucking, he flicked his glossa at random times and drew a small gasp from Rodimus each time. He slowed the pace when he felt charge tickling his cheeks. He matched Rodimus’ licks and kisses, smirking when he caught on and swallowed his length until his lips met pelvic plating. Only then did Megatron test the first ring of nodes in Rodimus’ valve. 

Fingers digging into Rodimus’ hips, Megatron pulled him down and shoved his glossa as deep as it would go. Rodimus returned the favour in reverse. When he returned to his anterior node, lubricant streaming down his cheeks, Megatron felt Rodimus’ calipers rippling around his nose, begging to be forced open. All the while Rodimus bobbed his helm, faster and faster, his glossa swirling around the head every time. 

Megatron dared to thrust up gently. That seemed to remind Rodimus that he could move, too, pushing down against Megatron’s silver glossa. He felt his moan more than he heard it. 

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” Megatron teased.

Rodimus answered by grinding harder, working only the tip of Megatron’s spike as he chased his own pleasure. Frankly, Megatron didn’t care if he overloaded that night. All he wanted was for Rodimus to know that he was the only one he was seeing.

For anything.

A few more swirls of his glossa and Rodimus was coming again, soaking him in more of his juices and screaming Megatron’s name. He didn’t let up even as Rodimus twitched away, oversensitive.

“Fuck me already,” Rodimus complained.

“I said at least two,” Megatron said with a smirk.

Rodimus whined, but let Megatron guide his valve back down onto his eager mouth. He showed him some mercy, just gently kissing around his node as his array reset. As insatiable as Rodimus was, it wasn't long before he was begging for more, hips rocking as he used Megatron's mouth as he pleased.

“Megs, Megs, Megs!”

Megatron hummed against his valve, keeping Rodimus’ hips right where he wanted them. He did his best to not leave any finger dents, but knew Rodimus would relish in seeing that. Frankly, Megatron would, too.

Still. He kept his hold on him firm, but gentle.

By now, Rodimus seemed to have forgotten his desire for a sixty-nine. He had his optics shut as he tried to ride Megatron's face like he would his spike, but Megatron had him pinned with just one arm. Which left the other to stroke whatever plating it could reach. When he got his hand on his spoiler…

Rodimus gasped as his back was forcibly arched, tugged back by his spoiler. The free half flapped and sparked with charge while Rodimus let Megatron know just how good this felt.

“Please, please, just fuck me!” Rodimus begged.

“You have to come for me again,” Megatron said. He kept his voice deep in his chest and his lips against Rodimus’ valve so he could feel how the words rumbled out. “Is this not the same mech who bragged about getting into the double digits with overloads? You're telling me you're going to give up so soon?”

“Maybe that says something about your performance,” Rodimus muttered. He wasn't able to form any coherent words once Megatron latched onto his node again, suckling.

Megatron would never get used to—or tired of—how often Rodimus climaxed. He'd go off and off and off like a neverending fireworks display. And just like a fireworks display, Megatron could watch it for hours. 

“Pull harder,” Rodimus demanded with static-laced words.

Megatron got a better grip closer to the mount, then pulled Rodimus back until his frame protested and he let out a strangled noise. He wished he could get his hand around his neck and watch his optics roll back into his helm.

“I’m so close,” Rodimus said. “Keep—nnh!—keep doing that!”

“That” being Megatron’s glossa flicking relentlessly against Rodimus’ swollen, pulsing node. He felt his valve clench down unsatisfyingly on nothing. The waves came faster and faster until Rodimus was screaming Megatron's name and clawing at his chest.

Before Rodimus could recover, Megatron lifted him off of his face and slid him down his frame until he could nudge his spike against his entrance.

“Oh please, oh please, give it to me!” Rodimus wriggled in his grip, but made no ground.

Megatron spread Rodimus’ valve lips, teasing him by sliding two fingers along his dripping slit. He kissed Rodimus’ finials while his feisty co-captain begged for his spike.

“Let's make sure you're ready, first,” Megatron purred. Rodimus practically sobbed as he slowly pushed two digits inside of him. Of course, he took them easily. Megatron was mostly teasing him.

“I need your spike now.” Rodimus groped around for it and when he got a grip on it, he moved into position. 

“Always so impatient,” Megatron said. He slid his fingers out, though, spreading his lips to help ease himself inside. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Rodimus said ever-so-eloquently.

Megatron dug his fingers into Rodimus’ hip joints as he carefully lowered himself onto his spike. His valve was wet, velvety heaven. The fact that he'd needlessly denied himself such pleasure made Megatron want to smack himself. 

Rodimus shuddered out a ventilation as he bottomed out. A ridiculous amount of lubricant squelched out around his spike until their arrays were both wet messes.

Looking over his shoulder with fire in his optics, Rodimus said, “Don't you ever keep me from this thing for that long ever again.”

“I won't.”

“Good.”

Having said what he needed to say, Rodimus rode him like it was his damn job. He threw his helm back while his spoiler bounced temptingly and well within Megatron's reach. He forced that pliant back to arch once more and thrust up to meet Rodimus’ fall.

In another life, where Hot Rod had chosen to follow his lead instead of Optimus’, he would have claimed this fiery frame for his own. The smooth metal beneath his hands would have made a lovely canvas. He could imagine it. He wouldn’t carve his name into his plating, but he might as well have. Everyone would know just who he belonged to at a glance.

Megatron mentally shook the thought from his processor. Though it wasn’t hard to ground himself in the moment again.

Rodimus moaned his name and begged for Megatron to fuck him harder. It was still too soon to give him everything he had, but he gave him a little more. Besides, he always preferred to be able to see his face when he did that. 

And right then, he wanted him close.

Megatron pulled Rodimus by the spoiler until his back met his chest. He wrapped an arm around him, his hand curling around his supple neck. He didn't squeeze just yet. His other hand caressed down heated plating to hoist up a thigh so he could get a better angle.

“Choke me,” Rodimus begged. He rested his hand over Megatron's.

Ignoring him, Megatron kissed the nape of his neck and made Rodimus malleable in his hands. He whimpered, quietly begging for more, but unable to fight Megatron's hold.

“No demands from you,” Megatron purred directly into his audial. He felt Rodimus shiver. “You'll get everything you desire, but all in good time.”

Rodimus grabbed at the arm over his chest, but didn't try to move it.

“Good boy.” Megatron thrust up into rippling calipers, his spike drenched in Rodimus’ lubricant. It seemed like more seeped out with every movement. 

While he didn't speed up, Megatron put more strength behind every lift of his hips. Every thrust snugging up against ceiling nodes swollen with charge. Already Rodimus’ frame begged for that sweet release.

“I could spend the rest of my life writing poetry about how your frame looks and feels, and I wouldn't be able to do it justice.” Megatron kissed his finials while Rodimus’ vents hitched. “You're pure art in motion. A masterpiece.”

“Megs!” Rodimus gasped out.

“Mm… and when you say my name…” Megatron let out a soft moan, harmonizing with Rodimus. “I could overload from that alone.”

Megatron choked him, cutting off his pleasured noises as he gave Rodimus just that much more. He felt him desperately fighting Megatron's hold to get more ground.

“Patience,” Megatron whispered. “I'll reward you, my lo—my good boy.” His pace faltered at his near slip-up. 

When Megatron released his neck, Rodimus seemed even louder. His wanton moans were interspersed with incoherent noises and what Megatron suspected was meant to be his name.

“Why don't you get on your hands and knees for me?” Megatron asked.

Ever eager, the instant Megatron let him go, Rodimus scrambled to follow through on the order. He wiggled his aft enticingly, a sultry look thrown over his shoulder. 

Ever savouring, Megatron took a moment to admire his handiwork. He spread his gaping valve further with his thumbs, nearly being able to see all the way in. He could see how his calipers rippled and then clenched down on air as Rodimus whined.

“I'm starting to feel like a lab experiment,” Rodimus said.

“You'd be doing the same if you were me,” Megatron said. He stuffed his thumbs in and spread him until he felt resistance, earning himself a choked-off moan from his co-captain. “Primus, just look at you. I wonder just how much you can take…”

Megatron removed his thumbs so he could get his spike back where it belonged. He slowly slid back inside his snug channel, wrapping an arm around Rodimus’ waist and bringing their plating flush.

“I could definitely take more,” Rodimus insinuated. Oh, yes… they were definitely on the same page.

At an achingly cautious pace, Megatron mass-shifted until Rodimus noticed the stretch. He turned him into a shaking mess without even moving his hips. 

“Good?”

Rodimus nodded fervently, temporarily mute, his open mouth drooling.

“We'll take it nice and slow,” Megatron promised. “I'll take my sweet time with you.”

Megatron barely moved, but the noise that left Rodimus’ voicebox would be replayed whenever Megatron found himself alone and charged up. Though, he never seemed to have that problem.

“I'm not hurting you?”

Rodimus emphatically shook his helm, rocking back to meet him.

“Slow, Rodimus,” Megatron whispered. “It will feel so much better if we work you up to it.”

While Rodimus shivered and clutched the sheets in a death grip, he croaked out, “Okay.”

Megatron kissed his cheek. “Good boy.”

Megatron carefully pulled out nearly all the way and then eased himself back inside Rodimus’ tight valve. Impossible amounts of lubricant were squeezed out with every small movement. 

Rodimus squeezed him and Megatron's pace faltered, unintentionally slamming in and making Rodimus yelp.

“It doesn't hurt!” Rodimus blurted out before Megatron could check-in. “Primus, Megs, it's so good.”

Megatron dared a faster pace, but it was still gentle. He rocked into him, feeling every node on every ridge and every little ripple of Rodimus’ calipers. He grit his denta and shut his optics in complete disbelief of how much he could take and how amazing it felt.

He grinded against him and kissed his spoiler. He adored the little mewls of his little plaything, his sparking plating signaling his imminent overload.

“Will you come for me, Rodimus?” Megatron would never grow tired of how Rodimus reacted to just the sound of his voice. Tarn might be able to render even living machinery inoperable just by speaking, but Megatron bet he could make Rodimus overload from words alone.

But his spike helped.

“Just a—ooh—just a little harder?” Rodimus barely got the request out between his panting and moaning.

“You have been good for me,” Megatron mused aloud.

“Please, please, please!” Rodimus kept begging and Megatron knew there was only one way to stop him.

Deciding to indulge him, Megatron saw fit to not only fuck him harder, but also wrap his hand around Rodimus’ bobbing spike. He stroked him through what felt and sounded like an intense overload. He made a mess of his own berth and Megatron didn't care if he had to recharge in it. 

Rodimus was left a panting and shaking mess once his frame finally relaxed. Megatron could feel just how much of his weight he was supporting.

“Good?” Megatron asked.

“Fucking fantastic,” Rodimus said, ventilating heavily.

“You're not done yet, are you?” Megatron teased.

“Oh hell , no. I want you to go even bigger.”

“You think you deserve that?” Megatron smiled against the nape of his neck, leaving a few kisses for good measure. 

“Don't I?” Rodimus rocked back to meet his hips, albeit weakly.

His calipers didn't feel dangerously tight with every thrust, but it was still snug. He chose not to answer Rodimus’ question and instead to increase his pace until he was taking his whole spike with every stroke. After all, he did so enjoy hearing Rodimus beg and plead for more in that desperate tone.

“I can take it,” Rodimus whined.

“Maybe I'd prefer to test your patience than your capacity.”

“We tested it already. I'm impatient. Now give me more.”

Megatron chuckled quietly against his neck. “How about we compromise?”

“Compromise?”

Much to Rodimus’ annoyance, Megatron pulled out. He promised his continued pleasure with every kiss he left on his back and spoiler.

“On your back,” Megatron said quietly.

Pre-overloads Rodimus would have been quick to do so. As it was, his quivering arms refused to hold his weight, and it was only with Megatron's help that he ended up where he wanted him. Of course, like he was programmed to do so, Rodimus grabbed legs behind the knees and bared himself fully to Megatron, revving his engine.

Megatron had to stop and stare. Though he'd seen it many times before, he would take any opportunity to enjoy the debauched sight of Rodimus’ stretched-out valve and soaked array.

“I know, I'm hot as fuck, but you still have an overload quota to meet,” Rodimus said.

“I have a quota now, do I?” Megatron raised an amused optic ridge.

“Oh, you always did, but you've been slacking lately.”

“Heh. Fair.”

“Now, how exactly is this a compromise?” Rodimus asked. 

Megatron got between his legs before he answered. He let his spike slap down wetly on Rodimus’ array, looking ridiculously large. If he hadn't already been inside of him, he'd assume he couldn't possibly fit.

“This position will make it feel bigger,” Megatron nudged just the tip in and enjoyed how Rodimus abandoned holding his legs open to claw at Megatron's back. He replaced Rodimus’ hands with his own and spread them even further. 

“If you still want more this way, then I'll oblige you,” Megatron said. “But…” He slowly pushed his way in until his spike head was no doubt pressing at his forge. “I think this will do just fine.”

Rodimus keened, his optics rolling back into his helm. Megatron barely had to move to turn him into a whimpering mess.

Megatron’s ulterior motives came to light when he pressed their frames flush and captured his lips in a slow, sensual kiss. He grinded into his lover and felt him make needy noises as much as he heard them. Just as needy were his hands pawing weakly at his helm, trying to keep him where he was.

He needn’t worry. Megatron never wanted to leave Rodimus’ arms.

“Is this enough for you?” Megatron whispered teasingly against his lips.

“You’re always enough,” Rodimus said shakily.

Those words made Megatron’s spark flare with light and warmth and, for a moment, the world swam. He grounded himself with his lips on Rodimus’ neck and his breathy moans loud in his audial.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want more,” Rodimus added.

Laughing quietly into his neck, Megatron said, “Greedy little brat.”

“You could teach me a lesson by fucking me harder, I think.” Megatron could hear that infernal smirk in voice.

His tight channel rippled around his girth. He gave into temptation, but he still kept to a careful pace. Even that had Rodimus wailing. The good kind, if Rodimus’ lifting hips said anything about it.

Entirely foreign sounds to Megatron left Rodimus’ static-laced voicebox. Maybe they were attempts at speech, or maybe Megatron truly was rearranging his internals, and his spike was literally hitting his voicebox. As long as it felt good, he wouldn’t stop.

Megatron rocked into him, facing less and less resistance with each slick thrust. Every little movement from the pretty package beneath him begging him for more chipped away at his resolve. His sucking valve won. He closed his optics as he surrendered to his temptation and lost himself to the world of pleasure they’d built together.

“Megs, oh, Megatron!”

He did so love his once-hated nickname, but there was something to hearing his full name in between those sweet moans of his that had him firing on all cylinders.

“Rodimus,” Megatron moaned.

“More, more, please!”

“Not yet. Not yet, love—lovely.” Megatron swallowed the words he wanted to say. “You make such lovely sounds.”

Thankfully, Rodimus’ sexed-out processor made him all but deaf. He moved on to kissing him and moaning along with him so he didn’t say anything stupid.

It wasn't long before Rodimus was writhing in overload once more. What would have been an excessive amount for just about anyone else left Rodimus still moving to take more of Megatron's spike. For him, it wasn't enough until he couldn't physically move.

“I can take it, I can take it!” Rodimus pleaded.

“Not yet,” Megatron repeated.

Rodimus whined. He kept begging for “more” and “harder,” but Megatron kept to his steady pace. His lover may still have a ways to go with patience, but Megatron was thoroughly enjoying what he was given.

“You're so tight.” Megatron groaned as the calipers snug around his spike squeezed him that much more. “I'd be worried I might break you if I didn't know you.”

“What if I want you to break me?” Rodimus flashed him a mischievous smile before a wanton moan swiped it off his face.

“But then I couldn't use you.” Megatron dropped his voice deep into his chest, keeping his frame as close to Rodimus as he could.

Rodimus’ moans were punctuated by each wet thrust. He scored golden lines into Megatron's plating and wrapped his legs around his hips to get Megatron just that much deeper. 

Megatron swore his spark stopped when Rodimus cupped his cheeks and stared right into his optics. He slowed to a stop, fully seated, enraptured by the beauty beneath him. 

“I want you bigger,” Rodimus said softly. “I know I can take it and I want it so badly.”

Megatron let out a long-winded sigh that was full of emotions Rodimus didn't fully understand. He cupped one of Rodimus’ cheeks, running his thumb along it in an incredibly soft gesture given the circumstances. 

He'd heard it so many times before; Megatron was terrified of hurting him. His reckless, risk-taking co-captain often bit off far more than he could chew and did it with a self-assured smirk. 

Megatron was one of those risks. Interfacing aside, if he truly wanted him the way Megatron yearned for him, then their love was a great risk in and of itself.

He was running out of time.

“Please, Megs.” Rodimus’ begging pulled him out of his spiral.

Enjoy it for what it is.

Right. Tomorrow wasn't promised for any of them. Whatever they'd built here, denying themselves wouldn't make it hurt any less.

“Alright,” Megatron said quietly.

Rodimus’ optics lit up excitedly. “We'll take it slow, yeah?”

Megatron smiled softly at him. “Yes.”

Megatron finally shifted bigger, but immediately felt resistance on his tip. He locked onto Rodimus’ face and watched to make sure this pleasure didn't morph into pain. For a long while he didn't make any noise and Megatron dared not move.

“Rodimus?”

Rodimus exvented shakily. “It's weird, but good?” He sounded confused.

“Weird how?”

“It just felt different. I don't know.”

Megatron gave a small, experimental thrust, feeling something cycle open inside that pulled him deeper. Even that small movement had Rodimus writhing with ecstasy.

“Whatever you're— oh, fuck! —whatever you're doing, don't stop!”

Even with Rodimus’ enthusiastic consent, Megatron still paused in his spike’s advance to warn him. “I think I’m in your forge.”

Rodimus revved his engine. “Oh hell yeah!”

“That’s okay?”

“I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything up there before, but a hole’s a hole, right?” He gave Megatron a crooked smile topped with optics glazed over from pleasure.

“You’ll stop me if I hurt you.” An order, not a warning.

“I don’t exactly delight at the idea of explaining to Ratchet why my forge needs a new seal, so yeah.”

“I mean it.”

“I will,” Rodimus insisted. “Megs, I like fucking because it feels good, I'm not gonna let you hurt me.”

Pushing aside his fears, Megatron began an achingly slow pace. He resisted the urge to slam into the heavenly heat, gritting his denta and clutching at the sheets.

“Primus, yes!” Rodimus cried out breathily. “This feels so fucking good.”

Megatron shuddered out a ventilation. It was taking all of his willpower to not give Rodimus everything he wanted. He startled at a touch to his cheek.

Rodimus gazed up at him warmly, but his optics were still glazed over with desire. He coaxed Megatron back down and kissed him gently before encouraging him to tuck his helm into the crook of his neck.

“Just like that, Megs,” Rodimus whispered when he gently rocked into him. “Nice and slow. Just how you like it, yeah?” After letting out a shaky moan, he added, “I like it, too.”

Megatron lightly bit Rodimus’ neck and dared to start thrusting. Short, careful movements, but he could feel how his forge entrance cycled open every time. Welcoming him deeper. 

“I'm not going to last long like this,” Megatron groaned.

Rodimus laughed quietly. “What, you get all up in my forge and that's what does you in?”

Megatron didn't think he could accurately describe just how hot this was. With Rodimus, it was always good, but he couldn't deny that these extremes drove him mad.

“Yes,” Megatron answered honestly.

“You can't come yet,” Rodimus said. His hands running along his spinal strut were not helping to deter that outcome. “I want you to give it to me harder, first.”

Megatron slid an arm under him and all but crushed Rodimus into him. His spark pounded in his chest. Pulling. Always pulling. 

Fucking him harder gave him the briefest distraction from his spark's yearning. Rodimus’ wanton moans in his audial spurred him on until he was slamming into his forge with little resistance.

Megatron's ventilations became ragged and uneven. His hips snapped into the wet warmth welcoming ever deeper. He bottomed out each time.

“Are you close?” Rodimus asked, exhaustion slurring his words.

“Yes.”

“Can you pull out real quick?”

Worry tainted Megatron’s arousal as he did as Rodimus asked. He touched him gently, terrified to injure him further, because that’s the only reason he could fathom where Rodimus would ask him to pull out. Before he could check him over, though, Rodimus got his hands on his spike and laid it down on his abdomen.

“Holy…” Rodimus shook his helm with awe, resting his hand flat against the tip. A sly smile spread across his face before he looked back up at Megatron with optics dim with lust. “That’s a new record.”

Megatron cocked his helm.

“Your spike is now officially the biggest I’ve ever taken.”

“Oh.”

“You mind snapping a pic for me?” Rodimus reached for his phone on his nightstand. “Preferably with your spike in the shot, but if you’re not cool with that I get it.”

Megatron’s optics widened and brightened with arousal. “As long as you send it to me.”

Rodimus playfully bit his lip. “You can take some more if you want.” He stroked Megatron’s spike. “I’ll even sing pretty for a little spank bank video.” He wiggled the phone temptingly in front of his face.

Without another thought, Megatron took his phone and opened the camera. He shifted over slightly to get Rodimus’ ruined valve in the shot, and the debauched display beneath him was made that much more titillating as Rodimus spread his lips. The lips on his face were in a mildly silly pout, but damn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Lemme see,” Rodimus demanded. A shiver ran up his frame when Megatron turned the screen towards him. “Damn, I look good.”

“‘Good’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.” He didn’t relinquish the phone when Rodimus reached for it. “I don’t think I’m done with this yet.”

Rodimus revved his engine. “I hope by ‘this’ you mean me.” He smirked. “Make sure you get my good side.”

Switching the camera to video mode, Megatron hit record. Then he lined himself up and eased his way back in, making sure he caught each and every one of Rodimus’ changing expressions.

“Oh, god, yeah!” Rodimus was over-performing a bit, but his moans still made his spike throb. “I want you deeper!”

“Just how deep?”

Fixing him with a positively lewd smile, Rodimus said, “I wanna feel you in my forge, baby.”

Megatron hummed appreciatively as he gently worked the iris back open. He enjoyed watching Rodimus’ optics bug out and how he tensed and shuddered when the head slipped inside his most intimate of places.

“Fuck me, Megs, fuck me!”

Normally Megatron didn’t gain much gratification from porn holovids. They did the trick on occasion, but it was the tactile and the brief distraction from his loneliness that gave him the release he craved. 

But this…

Rodimus moaned wantonly, throwing his arms above his helm and gripping the sheets. Though he was exaggerating, the way he arched his back and moaned his name had Megatron fucking him harder.

“You’re almost too big for me,” Rodimus said breathily. Primus, but that was a bad porno line.

“You can take it,” Megatron said. “You always manage to make it fit.”

“Because it feels so good, mmf!”

It was hard to keep the camera still when he pounded into him. Rodimus screamed and writhed and Megatron would’ve worried that he was being too rough on such sensitive components if Rodimus wasn’t begging for it harder. 

Insatiable little minx.

The tight opening welcomed him even deeper, the top ridge beneath his spike tip caught on each backstroke, and the gasp Rodimus released told him it felt just as good for him. Wet slaps punctuated every meeting of their pelvic plating. How he ever got this impossibly large spike in such a small, pretty package would remain a wonderful mystery.

“On or in?” Megatron asked between ragged ventilations.

For a few moments, Rodimus didn’t answer. He just ventilated heavily and moaned, his optics glassy with lust. Before Megatron could ask again, he said, “I want you to cover me.”

The noises Rodimus was making and the sensual waves of his frame as he lifted his hips to meet Megatron’s thrusts had the first spurt of transfluid splattering onto the walls of his forge. He pulled out quickly even though his valve sucked greedily at his spike and he never wanted to leave it. He pumped his spike, shooting ribbons across a fiery, arching frame. He managed to get a shot into his open, drooling mouth, his glossa stuck out to catch as much transfluid as possible.

Megatron panted, admiring his handiwork and making sure he got a good shot of the aftermath. He moved the camera close to his face and slowly panned down his spent frame. He used his free hand to lift Rodimus’ legs until his ankles were beside his helm. 

“You can’t already be ready for a round two?” Rodimus said, incredulous.

Chuckling darkly, Megatron said sultrily, “I’m just assessing the damage from round one.” He pulled at a drenched and tender fold, further spreading his wrecked and gaping valve.

For once, Rodimus decided to be helpful. He replaced Megatron’s hand and pulled at both sides, and Megatron couldn’t believe just how far he could see inside him.

He zoomed in on the lewd display.

“I bet you made me look real good.”

Megatron enjoyed the sight for a few moments more before ending the recording. Then he switched back to photo mode and got a few still shots of their debauchery. He took one last picture of Rodimus’ ruined array before turning the screen to him so he could see.

“Holy fuck.” Rodimus let his tired limbs fall back to the berth. “I’m actually a little worried it’s gonna stay like that,” he said with a little nervous laugh.

“If it does, I can always go bigger for you,” Megatron said.

Rodimus let out a long ventilation. “I don’t know how much bigger my frame can take. That was just…” He shook his helm, awe alight in tired optics.

Megatron took a minute or two to send himself the video and the pictures. Regular porn might not do the trick, but he was sure these would.

“You know… I like being filmed,” Rodimus said. “I was gonna put the offer out there, but for some reason I kept forgetting.” His optics flitted down to his spike for a moment. “Kinda figured you wouldn’t be into that sort of thing.”

“We should set something up properly next time,” Megatron said. 

Rodimus bit his lip, his gaze sensually sliding down Megatron’s frame. 

While Rodimus recovered, Megatron got a wet cloth and gently cleaned Rodimus’ plating of the mess he'd left. He got distracted a few times by soft speedster lips, but who wouldn't? It didn't help that his hands, still shaky with latent arousal, were holding his helm hostage.

“Let me finish and then we can cuddle and I'll kiss you as much as you want,” Megatron said the next time he managed to escape his gentle, but inescapable grip.

“Hurry up, then.” Rodimus pouted endearingly.

“It wouldn't take me so long if someone didn't get so ridiculously wet.”

“You love it.”

“Absolutely, but it does mean clean-up takes a little longer.”

Rodimus huffed. “Fine.”

Megatron took his time. Partly, to enjoy all that Rodimus’ frame had to offer in both sight and touch, but also because he wanted him to see how he cherished him. Not that Rodimus was the cleanest mech.

“That's good enough,” Rodimus complained.

Megatron ignored him. He hummed to himself as he removed the dried-on residue from his belly and thighs. After he was done, he caressed the same plating, making sure he'd gotten every speck of fluids.

“Meeeeeegs.” Rodimus pouted. “Cuddle me.”

Well, how could he resist that?

Megatron put the cloth on the nightstand and pulled Rodimus close. He immediately snuggled against him, their plating slotting together in that easy and practiced way. Normally, Megatron would wrap his arm around Rodimus’ shoulder, but today, he got his hand on his waist so he could keep their frames flush. 

Rodimus purred as he settled, his helm coming to rest on Megatron's chest as it always did.

Listen to my spark, Rodimus. Listen for my love.

Sighing happily, Rodimus said, “Still the best part.”

“Hm?”

“This. It’s the best part. I missed this the most.”

Megatron gave him a little squeeze. “Me, too.”

The next morning, Megatron reluctantly slipped from Rodimus’ lax hold. At first, he planned to let him sleep and just leave a note, but after everything he'd stupidly done, he knew he needed to hear it from him face-to-face.

“Rodimus?” Megatron gently shook him. When that didn't work, he pressed a kiss to his forehelm, his cheek, and finally his lips, feeling the briefest reciprocation. Azure optics greeted him as he pulled back. “Good morning.”

Rodimus yawned and stretched. “Mornin’.”

“You don't have to get up just yet, but I need to go.” He gave Rodimus another soft kiss, his lips slow with sleep. “May I see you again tomorrow?”

Despite his clear exhaustion, Rodimus smiled wide and said, “Hell yeah.”

Megatron smiled. “Alright. Sleep well.”

Rodimus comically puckered his lips, and after a small chuckle, Megatron indulged him in a kiss he was desperate to take further. If the project didn't need his attention, he would spend the morning waking up with Rodimus in whatever way he desired. But he had to finish this. Once it was done, he could have this every morning.

He hoped.

Chapter Text

Megatron grumbled to himself as he looked over inconsequential paperwork. Really, it was quite consequential, but there was still so much to do to finish his gift that every moment he wasn't on the bridge, he was on the lower decks, working with Brainstorm. He'd somehow managed to convince Perceptor and Nautica to help, too, which was certainly speeding things up.

But it meant he had no time for Rodimus.

He could feel his resentment whenever he passed off control of the bridge, and he could only hope that Rodimus hadn't completely given up on him yet. He'd tried to mend things with a box of sweets left on their desk with a note that promised they'd spend some time together soon, but it didn't seem to help much.

He told himself that if he saw Rodimus off with anyone else, he wouldn't hold that against him.

Megatron, on the other hand, had no such release. The stress of it all didn't help. He grumbled to himself as he tried to read the same sentence he'd been trying to read for ten minutes now. 

His phone buzzed. Another text from Rodimus. 

Fuck me after your shift? 🍆🍑💦💦💦

Embarrassingly, Megatron's spike sprung free of its housing. Thank Primus he'd closed the office door when he’d come in, but he hadn't locked it. He rushed to rectify that before he answered Rodimus.

I'm sorry. I can’t tonight.

Rodimus’ response came almost immediately.

K.

Shit. “OK” was fine. “OK 🤙” was a best-case scenario. “K” on its own was hit or miss. “K” with a period meant he was pissed. Especially if he didn't add an emoji. 

Megatron sighed and put his helm in his hands. He miserably looked down at his problem and seriously considered just going to see Rodimus anyways, but this paperwork needed to be finished yesterday and he'd already taken off early the past three days.

But he couldn't just leave this… He needed a break anyway.

Megatron's spike throbbed when he remembered the recording they’d made. He hastily pulled it up on his phone as he sat down, already incredibly turned on just by the paused video.

He had to keep the volume at nearly the lowest setting so the sound wouldn’t leak through the door. He could imagine the gossip running wild if someone on the bridge heard Rodimus moaning from the office. And besides, this video was for his optics and audials only.

Megatron grunted as he furiously stroked his length. It was times like this that he wished his stamina wasn’t as good as it was, because speed was of the essence.

It didn't help that it was a pretty shitty video. Not the contents, of course; had his hand been steady it would've been perfect. As it was, every thrust made the camera shake violently, but it was made up for with the sounds. And when his video-self slowed, he noticed something he hadn't noticed while he'd made it: the noticeable bulge in Rodimus’ abdomen.

Megatron cursed his past self for not holding the camera steady. Though, knowing what he was doing to Rodimus’ frame turned him on so much he felt much closer to overload. 

Gritting his denta, Megatron chose to shut his optics and put his phone to his audial to better hear him. As always, Rodimus moaning his name had his arousal spiking. Though his hand made a poor imitation of that tantalizing valve of his, he could imagine Rodimus on his knees, one hand around his shaft while the other plunged into his own soaked valve.

The video looped. After a few more loops, it wasn't doing much to help him. Instead, Megatron allowed his imagination to run wild. He'd clearly been spending too much time around Rodimus’ amica, because for some reason he found himself fantasizing about both speedsters tangled up together.

Drift had Rodimus bent over the end of the berth, pinning his hands behind his back. He moaned unabashedly as Drift fucked his port.

“Ahh, Drift!” 

Megatron squeezed his spike. As much as he didn't want to share him, he couldn't deny that he would love to watch those two go at it. Knowing how they both were in berth, he could imagine how much fun they'd both be. 

“You like that?” Drift purred as he leaned down over Rodimus.

Rodimus nodded and moaned.

“I bet. You love it when I fuck your aft.”

Rodimus' moans got louder as Drift gave it to him harder. He did his best to move to meet his thrusts, but in the end he just had to lie there and take it. 

His spoiler waved temptingly and Megatron wished he was there so he could get his hands on it. Maybe he'd be gentle in opposition to Drift's roughness. Or maybe he'd join in on Rodimus’ joyfully begged for mistreatment, tugging on the sensitive metal as he shoved his spike down his yielding throat.

Arousal peaked in Megatron's field. He ventilated heavily as he stroked his shaft faster.

Yes… he'd let Drift have his fun for a while, but eventually he'd start begging for more. And when that happened, Megatron would be there. He'd slowly push into whatever hole Drift had worked open, feeling just how tight he was. Though he wouldn't be for very long.

“This is what you really wanted, isn't it?” Megatron asked his fantasy.

The gorgeous, unreal mech beneath him answered by screaming in overload. He kept moaning his name as he came down, until he regained enough control of his frame to reach up and cup Megatron's face.

Rodimus smiled at him and said, “I love you.”

Megatron grit his denta and shut his optics as he overloaded, pleasure flooding his sensors. For maybe one minute, he felt some modicum of bliss, but his loneliness still won out. Worse still was his oversight over not clearing the desk before he started.

Transfluid covered the datapads. One even fritzed and the screen went dark. Whatever relief he'd gotten was whisked away by the extra work now piled on everything he already had to do. At this point he might as well have gone to see Rodimus.

After he cleaned up his mess, Megatron sent Drift a message.

Could you keep Rodimus company tonight? I have to work on his gift.

He got a response not long after.

Yes. This isn't going to take that much longer, is it?

Brainstorm said we're on track to be finished within the week, Megatron replied.

Did Rodimus ask you to come over?

Megatron sighed in reality. Through text, he said, Yes. I just haven't had the time or the energy.

Come over when you're done. He'll appreciate getting to sleep beside you.

I have to be up early tomorrow.

And?

… And I'll come over after.

Good answer.

As tired as he was, holding Rodimus while he fell asleep was always a treat. And as tired as he was, knowing where the night would end helped ease him through the hard work. 

Megatron kept working until he was struggling to keep his optics open, then dragged his weary aft to Rodimus’ door and knocked.

An equally tired Drift answered. “He's on the couch. And you're on thin ice.”

Megatron sighed. “I know. Thank you for keeping him company.”

“Don't make a habit of it. He was going through his contacts today looking for some fun. Fun he isn't getting from you.”

Another day, Megatron may have fought Drift on this. It wasn't like he was actively avoiding him… anymore. Today, though, Megatron just nodded and let him leave. He quietly closed the door behind him, finding Rodimus right where Drift said he'd be.

Megatron’s gaze softened. Even as exhaustion dragged at his frame, he took a moment to just look at him. 

Slumped over the arm of the couch, with one of his own arms hanging down, Megatron imagined he couldn't be very comfortable. And yet, drool puddled on his arm and his snores filled the air.

As gently as he could, doing his best not to wake him, Megatron scooped Rodimus up into his arms. What used to be an easy task had his joints protesting. His frame hadn’t felt this weary since his days in the mines, but unlike then, he felt proud of his work and knew that this work had a definitive end.

Rodimus stirred. “Lemme sleep, Drift… I was having a good dream.”

“Were you, now?”

“Mhm… Megs was about to—” Rodimus’ optics opened fully, wide with shock.

Smiling amusedly at him, Megatron asked, “What was I about to do?”

Rodimus’ face turned absolutely crimson. He hid his face and said, “You said you were busy!”

“I was,” Megatron said, “but I still have to recharge, and I'd like to do that beside you, if you'll still have me.”

Rodimus clung to him, still pressing his heated face to Megatron’s chest. “Okay.”

“Now, are you going to tell me what I was about to do in your dream?”

“That was private information for my amica’s audials only.”

Megatron chuckled as he lay Rodimus down on the berth. His face and spoiler tips were still red and he refused to meet Megatron’s gaze. Not that it mattered when Megatron settled down beside him, pulling him close.

“I'm sorry I've been so busy,” Megatron whispered. “I'll have more time for you soon. I promise.”

Rodimus shrugged. “It's whatever.”

“I've missed you.” Megatron's hand followed the curve of his spinal strut, straying just enough onto his aft to get his point across.

Rodimus rolled his hips and forced his hand lower. A burst of arousal lit Megatron's field; that move of his felt heavenly when he was sat on his spike.

“I wish I wasn't too tired,” Megatron whispered. He moved his hand back to Rodimus’ waist.

Shrugging again, Rodimus repeated, “Whatever.”

Already beginning to power down, Megatron pressed one last kiss to Rodimus’ forehelm and resisted the strong urge to confess.

He'd have a much better chance soon.