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"Well?" Megatron purred, his engine rumbling low and seductive, leaning up against the wall to show off his powerful legs and broad chest to their best advantage. The Autobots inside stared at him, as well they might; their medic's optics ran down the length of his frame, slowly, then back up again with an unreadable expression, clearly attempting to stuff down the urge to lunge for Megatron then and there; their saboteur was grinning, the light in his visor clearly barely-suppressed lust.
"Well what?" the tactician said bluntly, and Megatron found it easy enough to dismiss the instinct to scowl at his presumption. He did like fire in a mech, the drive to fight back and to argue, to claim, to conquer - he would always triumph, of course, but the challenge made berthplay worthwhile.
"Well," Megatron said, in smug certainty of his victory - he knew perfectly well that he was irresistable, a being of sheer power and erotic magnetism, and he intended to use that to its fullest to suborn the Prime's harem and turn them, and their leader, to his command. "Have you made your decision?"
"Oh yeah, we had a vote," the saboteur chirped. His smile was wide and bright and faintly familiar; oddly, it reminded him of Starscream, and knives in the dark. Starscream had stormed off in a huff when Megatron had had to explain his brilliant plan, snapping something about getting footage and popcorn, the cretin. Soundwave had just looked at him, and frankly he could only be jealous of Megatron's overwhelming interface charisma. It was only natural; Soundwave was many things, and Megatron still found him attractive enough for them, but he was certainly no Starscream. "You didn't make the cut."
...what.
"What?" Megatron blurted, offence sparking his vocaliser before outrage poured through his frame. "How dare you-!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Prime's cannon-humper broke in, and that was the whine of several pieces of weaponry coming online and pointing in his direction. That smirking little spy was still grinning, their hacksaw was reading a datapad, and that walking calculator was giving him the kind of assessing look that meant an embarrassment on the battlefield. "Scoot, before we start thinkin' you're more desperate to get at Prime's panels'n usual."
"Desperate!" Megatron seethed, raising his cannon; his HUD lit up with multiple target-locks, and - this time - he decided with a snarl that discretion was the better form of valour. "You will regret this," he swore, shoving himself upright and turning on his heel. "I'll make sure of it!"
"Don't threaten us with a good time," their ingrate of a medic called over his shoulder, and a round of humiliating laughter followed Megatron out.
*
"I knew it!" Starscream crowed, kicking his pedes and flailing with schadenfreude. "I told him what would happen! Did you see that?"
"Starscream: wasting popcorn," Soundwave said flatly, and scooped a handful for himself before the Seeker could tip it all over the floor.