Title: Indulgent Seduction
Warnings for this chapter: Mech x mech
Disclaimers: not mine
"How are they?" Optimus Prime's soothing voice broke through the heavy silence outside of the infirmary. He had to refrain from seeking out Sideswipe among the bots that were gathered in the hallway; he wasn't quite ready to tell all about his relationship with Sideswipe. He wasn't ashamed-hardly-but he knew for a fact that there would be unrest and discontent. As Prime, his mate should have been one of his commanding officers. At least if something were to happen to him, his mate could succeed the title of Prime. Sideswipe didn't have the training or the credentials to become the Matrix Bearer. And there was the simple reason that it was Sideswipe of all bots that he'd bonded himself to.
"Sunstreaker's fine. He won't leave Hot Rod's side but Hoist was able to patch his leg back together," Jazz shook his head, leaning into Prowl's chassis, obviously exhausted. Optimus sympathized. Jazz had just returned from a double shift when they'd brought the injured mechs in. Optimus averted looking at Prowl; he knew his second in command was uncomfortable with public affection and he wouldn't appreciate being ogled. That and Optimus was jealous. He couldn't even comfort his own mate and he could feel the anguish emanating from Sideswipe. He longed to hold Sideswipe, to console him. He wanted nothing more then to shield his younger lover from any and everything that could harm him.
"Good. And what of Hot Rod?"
Jazz looked at Prowl, biting his lip. "Ya see, Optimus…he was pretty fucked up. I mean, whoever shot him was real close to his spark chamber. Took some of the vital energon aortas out."
"Which means that he's strugglin' for life," Ironhide continued, sighing, "Sunstreaker's donated his own energon and fuel pump."
Perhaps Sunstreaker wouldn't received the lecture he had planned out. Not when he was being this unselfish. "Why was Hot Rod alone in the desert in the first place? None should venture outside of the ARK unless accompanied by another. The Decepticons, as we have seen, are not below fighting a lone mech."
Sideswipe stepped forward, ignoring the mutters. Optimus quelled his own ire at the rose within him, hearing Sunstreaker's name mentioned in not so flattering tones, "Sir, he was…angry with Sunstreaker and Springer. They were fighting."
"Over Hot Rod, I presume?"
"Yes, sir," Sideswipe fell back in place next to Bluestreak, the gunner doing what Optimus couldn't as he wrapped Sideswipe in his arms. Optimus's spark lurched at the sight; it was his job to be there for Sideswipe, not Bluestreak or anyone else.
"Red Alert, release Springer from the brig. I believe that this is enough punishment for his actions. I want you all to see this and remember that fighting amongst ourselves is petty and leads to disastrous results. I pray to Primus that Hot Rod survives and that Sunstreaker does the same should anything unfortunate happen in lieu of Hot Rod's injury."
"It'll serve him right!" Gears shouted, "He don't deserve Hot Rod!"
"Gears! Stop!" Bumblebee frowned, optics widening as he noticed Sideswipe's furious face.
"It's true. You all don't have the guts to say it! Sunstreaker's a monster! He shoulda been the one fightin' to stay alive!"
"You wanna say that again!" Sideswipe snarled, Bluestreak grabbing his arm to prevent him from slugging Gears. "Let me go, Blue!"
"Yeah, defend your whore brother! You ain't much better!" Cliffjumper, feeling brave, piped up from beside Gears.
"You motherfuckin' son of a-" Sideswipe spewed, "I'm gonna rip your-"
"STOP!" Optimus bellowed, startling everyone. He rarely got angry enough to yell. "Ironhide, make sure that Gears and Cliffjumper are appropriately reprimanded. I will not allow this to continue!"
"Yes, sir," Ironhide grabbed the two minibots by their shoulders and lifted them off the ground. "Come on you two. I'm sure Prowl'll have some mighty good work for you to do."
"Count on it," Prowl snapped at Gears and Cliffjumper.
Optimus watched uneasily as Sideswipe settled into an uncharacteristic silence, his hand pressed against his chest…right above his spark chamber. Primus, please let him and our sparkling be alright. Jazz had left Prowl to be with Sideswipe. Optimus suppressed the urge to tell Jazz to leave his mate alone, hating that Jazz and Sideswipe had a past, despite that Jazz's own lover was a few feet away.
"You ok, Sides?" Jazz's concern was obvious. "What's wrong?"
"I...um…I'm fine. Just, um, it's nothing."
"You're probably stressed out about Sunny and everything that's going on because if Hot Rod dies then that means that Sunny might not make it and-"
"Bluestreak!" Prowl hissed at his adopted, "That's enough!"
Sideswipe's face was downcast, swaying a little on his pedes. "I think I need to sit down."
"I'll take you to get some energon, Sideswipe. Your energy is depleted," Optimus said, taking hold of Sideswipe's arm, his lover leaning his body weight on him. "Inform me of any changes," he told Jazz and Prowl, not missing the suspicious looks from his two commanders.
"Sideswipe, are you in pain?" Optimus asked as they cleared the corridor, away from any eavesdropping audios. "Is it the sparkling?"
"I don't know. I don't know if it's from him or from Sunny. That's the confusing thing about sharing sparks with more then you. I have Sunny, you, and our sparkling. Optimus, I can't go on if Sunny dies," Sideswipe sobbed, "Sunny's my rock, you know? If Roddi dies then Sunny'll follow and he promised he wouldn't leave me. That he'd always be there but what if he-"
Optimus sighed, embracing the smaller mech, enfolded securely in his arms. "Sideswipe, Hot Rod is being worked on by the best medic that Cybertron has ever offered as well as his two rapidly learning students and a genius. If anything should happen, then it is the will of Primus."
"You sound like you don't even give a damn!" Sideswipe snapped, struggling against Optimus's chest futilely. "Let me go!"
"Sides, you aren't in your right mindset. Please, believe me, I would be crushed if our sparkling-or you-were gravely injured or worse, killed. The same can be said for Sunstreaker and Hot Rod."
Sideswipe allowed the feelings of love to spread through their bond as he sagged heavily against his mate. :Optimus, swear you'll always be there. Swear that you'll never leave.:
Optimus knew he couldn't make that promise; as leader of the Autobots, it was inevitable that he one day perish because of the war. And if he did not, he was truly blessed by Primus. He wanted nothing more then to spend the rest of his life with Sideswipe. :I will do all in my power to remain with you.:
"I guess that's all I can ask for."
Optimus caressed Sideswipe's plating, above his spark chamber, feeling the smaller, less noticeable surge of energy from their sparkling. "He's growing fast."
Sideswipe nodded, twining their hands together on his chest. "He's gonna need a protoform soon. With everything goin' on with Sunny and Roddi, I haven't really had time to talk to Wheeljack."
"You should. Wheeljack's been uncharacteristically depressed as of late. He would welcome a chance to be distracted." Optimus didn't elaborate on the reason the engineer was despondent; his unrequited love for Bluestreak was taxing the normally cheerful scientist's emotions. "Have you decided on a name for him? Colors?"
Sideswipe visibly relaxed at the distraction of speaking about their sparkling, his processor off of his brother. "Well…I have a name. But I don't know what you're gonna think about it."
Optimus arched his optic ridges. "I don't think it could be too terrible. Unless it's Starscream."
Optimus squeezed Sideswipe's hand. "Tell me."
Prime's optics widened. "Orion?" he repeated, the name calling to mind days spent on the docks, nights spent in bars. Of vorns before the war was even a speck in Megatron's processor… Of carefree frivolity spent with friends that were long since taken from him because of the war.
"Optimus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"No, my beautiful mate, I am not angry," Optimus retracted his battle mask, leaning down to kiss Sideswipe. "I'm touched that you would want our sparkling's name to be the nee I used to have. Thank you, Sideswipe."
"What are you thankin' me-"
Optimus interrupted, pressing Sideswipe against the wall next to the energon dispenser, battle mask retracting hastily as he locked lips with the younger mech. As much as he loved and cherished Sideswipe there was still one part of himself that Sideswipe was completely oblivious to. A niche of memories barricaded behind dozens of firewalls that he kept closely guarded. But no more. Sideswipe had bared his spark to him. It was only right that he did the same.
Hips grinding against one another's, Optimus came to a decision, "Sideswipe, there's something you have to know about me. About my past. I will tell you that I am not ashamed of anything that I have done in my life."
"Optimus, what's goin' on?" Sideswipe frowned, watching warily as Optimus opened his spark chamber. "Why so serious? I thought you were gonna show me some lovin?'"
"Because I fear you may hate me. Connect with me so I may show you."
Their sparks merged and Optimus had to ignore the familiar stirrings of dread at having the very last of his firewalls down. It was rare that Cybertronians merged without any pretenses of pleasure involved; it was humbling to share this with his mate. Optimus suppressed the urge to run, to withdraw from the merge before Sideswipe could access those files. But then Sideswipe was there and it was too late.
He stares at the swirling green liquid, the steam rising from the contents of the glass lazily. He ignores the incessant chatter of two femmes beside of him, both of them attempting to draw him into conversation but he's not interested. He hears them disappointedly move on to another, more desperate mech a few spots down from him. Femmes have never held much appeal to him. He's been propositioned enough to know that femmes are too dainty for his tastes; the few times he's interfaced with a femme, he found himself too worried about harming her. He frowns. He didn't even have that much experience with mechs either. Two had been drunken mistakes. One had been a disastrous relationship with a Towers snob that had used him in order to frag his creators off. It was depressing now that he actually thought about it.
"You know, if you aren't going to drink that, I'll gladly take it off your hands," a deep, rich voice snaps him from his inner musings.
He raises his head to look at the mech that's invading his personal space; he can feel the mech's breath on the back of his neck, across the sensitive wirings. The mech's large, probably bigger then Orion himself who was by no means a small mech, with the build of powerful fighter. He's a shining grey that dimly reflects the colors of the various lights of the bar. But it's his smile that makes his temperature ascend; he's never seen a smile that beautiful before. "I think I can manage it," he says, flashing the mech a teasing grin before downing the high grade in one gulp.
"Let me get you another one," the mech signals the bartender for refills before Orion can decline the offer-he doesn't usually accept drinks from strangers.
"Thanks," he says politely, taking the drink from the mech, intakes skipping as their fingers brush. "I haven't seen you around here."
"I'm here on business," the mech says vaguely, consuming the alcohol greedily. "Ah, best fraggin' high grade on Cybertron. I've been around and this place always makes me come back."
"Are you a merchant?"
"Somethin' like that." Orion discovers that he really likes the way the mech smiles so casually, as if he doesn't have a care in the world; not many smile that way and mean it these days. "What do they call you?"
"Beautiful name. Suits you," the mech laughs, holding his chin in one palm as he stares at nothing but Orion. Orion notices that there are several mechs and femmes standing near them, their optics focused on the stranger. He can't help but feel oddly pleased. "I bet you have all of them bowing down to you."
"Hardly," Orion chuckles, at ease around the mech. "What about you? Don't I get your designation?"
"Hey there, beautiful, you come here often?" Orion turns around, nearly dropping the cube of energon, optics widening as he sees the mech that's consumed him for vorns. He looks larger with a couple of new upgrades-a stark black-spoiling his gorgeous gray paint. But at least now he knows exactly who he spent that passionate night with…
"Silvergun." He never knew that the mech was in fact the favorite of the gladiator ring, the prodigal warrior that so many ranted and raved about. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in-"
A finger's against his lips and finds himself drowning in those familiar sensations. "I won and was given the freedom of one stellarcycle. They will come back for me when my time is up," Silvergun's voice is laced with a bitterness that was absent before.
"And you came here, of all places? Don't you have anyone?"
Silvergun shakes his head, smiling that warm smile of his, "You're all I have, Orion. I knew from the that night I saw you that you and I would be perfect together. I want some level of peace before I'm taken back to the rings."
Orion never asked about his lover's gladiator matches or why he was even a gladiator in the first place. Because when Silvergun mentioned anything about his life, so much hate emitted from him that Orion's spark ached and he wanted nothing more then to heal him. If only he'd known that their last kiss, their last pleasure, their last admissions of love, their last goodbyes were the truly the end.
Orion Pax, newly christened Optimus Primus, can only stare in shock at the oh so familiar face on the vid-screen. He doesn't listen to Prowl, his second in command, brief him on the situation that has risen, the reason that he's Prime in the first place. He can only gaze in horror at Silvergun. Megatron. The whole reason this entire schism was occurring in the first place. The whole reason that the Cybertronians were now divided into two factions, the Decepticons and Autobots.
Silvergun, the mech that he'd grown to cherish from one night of mutual bliss to a stellarscycle of love that he'd never found again, even though eons have passed. The only love that he's ever known is now his enemy. It's surreal and ironic. He truly is a cursed mech. "Prime, are you listening?"
"I'm sorry, Prowl, what were you saying?"
"There was a Decepticon attack on the city of Hydra. Those that did not convert were disposed of. This Megatron is a threat to us all. He's ruthless and does not care about harming others. He needs to be taken care of immediately."
Optimus clenches his jaw plates. How can he kill the only one that's ever made him feel? Even after all of these vorns, he still loves him. If only he'd been there, if only he'd taken Silvergun's offer to join him, if only…
Sideswipe disconnected the link abruptly, staring at Optimus in a mixture of pity and revulsion. Optimus ignored the pain that shot through him at the sudden departure of their spark merge, bracing himself for Sideswipe's reaction. "Optimus… I… Megatron? You were in love with Megatron?!"
"Yes. Even now…I remember Silvergun. Sometimes, I wonder if he makes a mistake and calls me Orion in his mind. But I doubt it. Orion Pax died a long time ago," he said wistfully. "I understand if you regret our bond now and-"
Sideswipe shook his head. "Not gonna happen."
"Sideswipe…" Optimus kissed the younger mech arduously, putting all of his feelings into it, needing to tell Sideswipe how much he-
Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside of the rec room, the two mechs hastily separating. Optimus's battle mask went back in place, hiding his expression. Sideswipe's guilty face was hidden behind a visage of indifference. "Sunny's wreaking chaos!" Bumblebee announced, countenance filled with dread, "And he isn't backin' down for anyone! Even Ironhide's havin' trouble keepin' him from killin' Springer! You better come quick, Prime!"
"What happened?!" Optimus demanded as they hauled ass back towards the infirmary.
"I dunno. Sunstreaker came bargin' outta there and the next thing we know, he's punchin' the frag outta Springer. I think the only one he was even listenin' to was Bluestreak!"
The three of them came to a sliding halt outside; Sunstreaker was gone as well as Bluestreak. First Aid was leaning over a stunned Springer and beginning to fix the various injuries he'd received. "Prowl, status report," he asked, going to stand beside his second in command.
"Bluestreak was able to get through to him," Prowl said with the barely concealed pride of an adoring genitor. "Their whereabouts are currently eighty klicks from the ARK. We do not know what caused Sunstreaker's anger and actions." Prowl looked pointedly at a concerned Sideswipe. "Have you heard or felt anything from your brother?"
"He's blocked me." Sideswipe turned to look down at Springer, the triplechanger rising to his feet unstably. "What'd you do?"
"Nothin', man. I just wanted to see Roddi. It's not my fault your crazy brother's got jealousy issues."
Sideswipe didn't comment.
"Alright, we'll send Mirage and Hound to find-"
"That's not necessary, Prime," Prowl interjected, "Bluestreak's assured me that he has this under control. Have a little faith in him."
"I trust your discretion and Bluestreak's." Just not Bluestreak's ability to control Sunstreaker.
Optimus could only trust to hope that all was well…
I wanted to have a little bit of Optimus and Sideswipe, as well as delve in Optimus/Megatron.
The next chapter will have the Sunstreaker/Hot Rod bits that led into Sunstreaker's rage.
I pictured Sideswipe as the Joker when he said "Why so serious?" Yea. :D
Thank you all for the massive support! You all make me want to write!
Shiny Ryuichi Sakuma