Megatron & Starscream – Making a Lover of a Snake
A/N: Although it is not necessary to understand the plot, it is recommended that you read MegaManAtlas's 'Contemplating Insanity' ( [ff .net] /s/5197751/1/Contemplating_Insanity ) before beginning as it sets the scene for this story. Thank you!
Starscream picked himself up off of the ground and brushed himself off. Uneasily, he looked around to make sure no one had seen what happened, mentally readying threats and excuses to protect himself from humiliation as he scanned the room. Ah, good. There hadn't been any witnesses. Seeing this, he let himself relax somewhat.
He strode down the hall like nothing happened, carrying his dark helm high. For all appearances, the Seeker looked as if he'd just emerged victorious from whatever battle he'd just been involved in. His image was carefully calculated, concealing the evidence of his defeat.
This time, he'd been caught. Megatron had gotten the better of him, though again he had spared him…for now. Either the Seeker was losing his touch or the warlord was — really, between the two of them it was hard to tell who was worse for wear.
Starscream cast a venomous glare over at a couple of unwitting Constructicons, who made a hasty retreat to avoid the Seeker's wrath. He smirked; he was really in no mood to speak to any of the other Decepticons at the moment, and bullying the underlings made him feel a little better about his earlier encounter with Megatron.
He rubbed tenderly at his throat as he made his way down the hall. Shit… this time, he had come dangerously close to being decapitated. If Megatron had been in a different frame of mind at the time, if his wrath had been just a little stronger, Starscream would be dead right now.
No… Megatron would never put him offline. He was a ruthless warlord who sliced through enemy troops like grass, and yet he had still not killed Starscream.
And the Seeker felt sure that as long as he could still give him the right sultry looks, and touch him all the right ways, and move so his wing just barely brushed against Megatron's arm, it would stay that way.
Feeling reassured, and, in fact, rather smug with himself, Starscream continued his showy stride down the hallway. As far as he was concerned, things were still going exactly the way he wanted them to.
If Starscream had known what Megatron was mulling over, he wouldn't have been quite so pleased with himself. While it was true that Megatron had spared him once again, and that Starscream's appeal may or may not have been some minute part of the reason for that, the warlord was as aware as Starscream was that it was merely the latest in a long series of similar encounters.
Presently, Megatron was sitting alone in his dark quarters, trying to decide what to do with the treacherous Seeker. He shuttered off his optics and leaned back into his seat, listening to the soft hum of distant machinery throughout the underwater fortress.
He could contemplate until the moon fell into the sea, but he would likely never be able to deduce exactly what the appeal of the treacherous Seeker was. He was beautiful, but there were other beautiful mechs. His wingmates were beautiful as well, but he felt nothing for them. He was intelligent, but his plans always failed, foiled by the Seeker's own arrogance. He was talented, in many ways, but none of these things would be able to attract Megatron's eye.
His optics still offline, he reached to a small, ornate brass-coloured table beside him, and took from it a goblet of high-grade. Bringing it slowly to his lips, he went on to consider how best to proceed. How could he mold Starscream into a more suitable companion? How could he teach him to obey, and to maximize his usefulness to the Decepticons?
Megatron sipped leisurely, taking in the cool, refreshing energon. The best course of action was to employ a strict regimen of discipline. Starscream would be kept with all the strictness of the toughest boot camp and more. He would learn through any means necessary, until he had been cured of his rebellious ways and begun to act behave as the loyal second that Megatron needed. This could involve withholding rations, physical discipline; whatever it took, short of outright abuse.
Megatron took another contemplative sip. Of course, he couldn't be too hard too quickly; otherwise, he'd risk losing any chance of success. Starscream would only become bitter and angry, until it became impossible to ever hope to control him.
The goblet touched down on the table with a soft clink, and Megatron stood from his throne. His optics appeared suddenly as he switched them back on, piercing red lights in the darkness that gave dim, eerie highlights to the room around him. He had his answer; now, it was time to act.
Hopefully, this would prove the cure that he had been seeking to Starscream's rebellious behavior.
Starscream stretched luxuriously across his berth in an almost feline manner, arching his slender body upward and lacing his fingers. The stretch ended, and he was left lying comfortably on his belly, resting his helm on a servo.
He was the calculated picture of temptation, not a scratch in his paint nor a single diode out of place. His body was exquisite and well-kept, to the point that even his most simple movements could stop traffic. The only ones he'd decided could resist his spell were the stupid (such as, or perhaps especially Shockwave and Soundwave, whose logical and businesslike natures made them altogether uninterested in the feral Seeker), his fellow Seekers-- and of course, Megatron, the one person he wanted to persuade.
Tapping his jaw irritably, he thought back once again to his earlier encounter with Megatron. His earlier smugness had worn off, and a sense of anxiety had begun to set in. Megatron had never come so close before. Certainly, he had taken occasional potshots at him for these kinds of incidents, but never anything like this.
Megatron had pinned him to a wall, constricting his neck, and put the Fusion Cannon to his head with every intention of actually killing him! Whatever had stopped him, Starscream could only thank Primus that it had.
…He just would've liked to know what exactly it had been.
Just then, there came the soft sound of commands being entered on the keypad outside his door, followed by a high-pitched beep of confirmation and the electronic door sliding open with a hiss. Starscream raised his helm to look, freezing in place. He knew exactly who was coming, but it still didn't surprise him any less that he would've come here, personally, to the Seeker's personal quarters.
The pale grey peds came down with echoing thumps, causing Starscream to shudder. The towering mech's optics pierced the hall's darkness, giving his face eerie highlights. He stepped into the light with grim purpose, making his entrance almost unrealistically dramatic. Starscream stayed silent all the while, watching the Decepticon commander with brightened optics.
"Starscream," Megatron addressed him, voice booming.
Starscream hesitated. "Yes, my liege?" He answered slowly, each syllable separate and clear.
"Stand up." Megatron commanded. "You and I are going to be doing a little training."
"T-training, Lord Megatron?" Starscream stammered, having trouble reclaiming his collected air.
"Just get up, you sniveling coward." Megatron responded, growing agitation in his voice. Not obeying now would be a little more than a bad idea.
Quickly, Starscream pushed himself up and onto his peds, looking up nervously at his commander. He didn't know what was coming next, but from the cold look those vicious optics gave him, looking as if into his black spark itself, he could tell that it was going to be far from pleasant.