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It had started with a fight, as it usually did.
At the meeting table, Starscream had been infuriatingly contrarian, shooting down and picking apart almost all of Megatron’s ideas for their next raid.
According to him, some were too careless, others too ambitious, and the rest of them too risky, too savage, or merely half-baked. He’d pointed out that his vast lifetime of experience leading trumped Megatron’s single victory- which he credited to sheer luck- the prior week, and that therefore, his arguments against Megatron’s plans were solid.
It was an extremely tired reason, one that Starscream still clung to despite already having been replaced as ruler for nearly a quarter of a cycle. Megatron would have just ignored him, like he’d been practicing, but Starscream proved to be incredibly valiant. Not once did he give Megatron space to breathe or readjust his ideas before finding a crack in the ice and intercepting with a quip, a snide remark, or any scathing criticism he could conjure up. He claimed that his oversight was purely made with faithful intentions, lest defeat soil the reign of their newly founded faction.
And unfortunately (and unsurprisingly) some of the comments were actually valid, but were undermined by the ones made about Megatron’s younger age or how little time he’d spent cogged. Regardless, all of it was condescending and managed to needle its way underneath his armor, and Megatron quickly found himself enraged, cog activating automatically with offensive protocols.
The meeting was abruptly adjourned, and bots had scrambled for the exit, leaving their chairs spinning where they bolted out of them.
Starscream stayed behind, smirk growing as the doors resealed and locked with a hiss. He hadn’t bothered to move from his spot across the table, defiantly recrossing his legs as if he were relaxing in a spa, and not poised at the end of Megatron’s powering fusion canon.
As usual, he was waiting, daring Megatron to make the first move. To lunge at him, to throw the first punch, to fire away.
Megatron hadn’t even tried resisting the urge. He stomped around the table, servos raised to show Starscream his authority, and what it meant to try opposing him.
Instead of cowering, Starscream darted out of the way just as his fist connected with the backrest of the chair, and he flipped over Megatron’s head, landing behind him.
“You hate that I’m right,” he said, using his thrusters to launch a kick into Megatron’s back, “like I always am.”
Megatron grunted from the force of it, but quickly regained his balance, turning to capture Starscream’s pede where he hadn’t retracted it fast enough. He tightened his grip and slammed Starscream onto the surface of the table by his leg, who landed with a satisfying bang, now splayed out across it.
Starscream’s optics flickered from the impact, but his smile didn’t fade. He raised an optic ridge teasingly. Megatron found that expression all too familiar and felt his plating warm.
Using his split-klik of a pause, Starscream fired up his thrusters once more and slid across the table, allowing him just enough space to stand on his servos and deliver a swift knee right into his leader’s nose. Upside down, he continued speaking while Megatron was recoiling, a sinister grin in his staticky voice, “They would have relocated their energon deposits in preparation after that last attack. We’d need another round of scouting to confirm where’d they’d be before-”
Megatron swept his nose, dismissing the damage there and yelled. “Enough!”
Starscream’s face twisted into faux concern. He cooed, “Throwing a tantrum, now?”
But Megatron had meant it when he said he’d had enough and abandoned all caution, tackling Starscream, manhandling him upright, and throwing him into the nearest bulkhead. Starscream thrashed for an escape, but Megatron was a steady force and had both wrists bound behind him with only one servo of his own, and caged him in with the other against the wall.
Starscream’s wings fluttered wildly, threatening to smack him in the face again, but with a growl, Megatron ground his chassis against them, curbing their movement. So close, Megatron could hear him panting unevenly alongside the sound of his vents whirring to life.
Megatron charged up his cannon again, exhausted from the jet’s antics. The purple glow of it highlighted Starscream’s slim jaw line, who squirmed uselessly against his hold. Heat built up in his core.
“Yield,” Megatron glared.
Starscream scoffed, still fighting, staring right back at him with double the intensity. “When I’ve got you right where I’ve wanted you? I don’t think so.”
Megtron’s optic twitched, his fury neverending. He had him imprisoned against the wall but somehow, somehow , Starscream still came out victorious. For a klik, his cannon stalled and they stood there exchanging breaths before Starscream tsked and snapped at him.
“Frag me or shoot me, just choose one and get on with-”
Enough -!
Processor aching from his screeching voice, Megatron ceased it by growling and diving in and sealing his mouth over Starscream’s, swallowing the rest of his words. It was a familiar tango.
Megatron felt him slacken immediately, pushing into it and returning the fervor of the kiss enthusiastically. He felt a pair of lips wrap around his glossa and suck, and Megatron couldn’t help but groan, imagining that pressure somewhere else.
Easily, just as he had so many times before, he played right into Starscream’s ploying servos. He’d have the upperhand soon enough, though.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Starscream said between kisses, gyrating his hips in small circles over Megatron’s tightening cod piece.
Although offlined now, his fusion cannon was still warm and slightly charged from powering down, and he used it to trace a path down Starscream’s cockpit and over his crimson hip plating. Starscream shivered and twitched beautifully from its heat, trapped between it and Megatron’s towering frame. Once he reached the underside of his panel, Megatron tapped it playfully, then substituted it for his hand, deftly fingering the seam there. Like he’d been electrocuted, Starscream gasped, throwing his head back.
His servos wriggled where they were imprisoned, reaching for Megatron’s cod piece.
“Let me,” he said while grinding indulgently on Megatron’s ministrations. Megatron grunted in lieu of a response and freed his servos. Sky blue fingers flew eagerly to caress the geometry of the large dark angular plating.
Not able to contain his arousal, Megatron felt his panel transform away instinctively, hardened spike springing into Starscream’s smooth and ready palm. At its promising weight and heat, Starscream moaned, giving it a few quick, lavish pumps. Megatron’s spike twitched when he watched as Starscream tried and failed to wrap his fingers all the way around it.
As lubricant began to gather, Starscream’s own panel snapped apart. Megatron’s servo met wet silicone equally as dark, and he didn’t waste a klik burrowing into its tantalizing softness. The lack of caution and roughness made Starscream wince, and Megatron withdrew a centimeter before Starscream clutched at his arm.
“More, I can take it,” he snarled, chassis heaving. “Show me what you’ve got. I know how much you want me.”
Megatron tried not to appear too affected by his words and his breathless tone, focusing his efforts in hastily preparing Starscream. He added digit after digit, splitting and curling his fingers mercilessly until Starscream was able to take all of his servo to the knuckles.
Some impatient whines and swats to the helm later, Megatron relented and replaced his fingers with his spike, guiding the leaking tip to the fluttering rim of Starscream’s valve.
Thoroughly stretched, his spike slid home without a hitch. What little patience he had left was abandoned as Megatron pistoned into the blissful heat, rucking Starscream further and further up the bulkhead with each thrust. His helm and faceplate repeatedly knocked into the wall, no doubt disturbing the rest of the base with the noise.
Against it, he moaned like a trained pleasure bot, crying out unabashedly in a mixture of ecstasy and pain.
To better the angle, Megatron grabbed Starscream’s slight waist and tugged it towards him. With the adjustment, he was able to nudge his inner valve seal with every in-stroke, and Megatron groaned gutturally, losing himself in the pleasure as it enveloped his spike tip just so on every deepening thrust.
“You’re so good when you’re not talking,” he rumbled, excessively pleased with the sight of Starscream’s pearly wings swaying rhythmically before him. For once, Starscream didn’t retort- or rather, Megatron thought, he couldn’t, being so caught up in the interface as he was. His pride swelled. Only he could debauch and ruin the seeker to such a point. It was only what he deserved, anyways.
Starscream’s servo, which was previously clutching uselessly at the wall, flitted to one of the servos wrapped around his waist. Megatron watched as he unwrapped it and brought it to his neck instead.
He gazed back then, shooting Megatron a distant, hazy look. His optics flickered and dimmed, face contorting into a plea. He easily recognized that expression and knew what the seeker wanted.
With their tussle so fresh in his mind, Megatron’s anger surged and he readily obliged him, tightening his grip. His thumb and forefinger found pulsing cable points on either side of Starscream’s neck and he squeezed, unforgiving.
The effect was immediate and familiar. Starscream’s moans became strained and his vocalizer crackled violently. He gasped desperately, optics rolling towards his helm and shuttering. As expected, it only took a few more thrusts to push him over the edge, and he keened, entirely helpless, valve clenching sporadically around Megatron’s spike. Suddenly, everything was wetter, hotter, and tighter, and Megatron ground against him, chasing his own overload. Starscream shook and cried when Megatron finally finished and generously filled his valve.
As Megatron’s spike softened, he released Starscream’s neck, and the seeker sagged towards the floor, all the fight and defiance fragged out of his systems.
Megatron loomed over him, triumphant. He tucked his spike away and began catching his breath, waiting for his engines to cool.
“Anything else you want to add?” He asked, feeling lighter already.
“Son of a glitch,” Starscream panted heavily, mustering what seemed like the all of his energy to glare at him. “That didn’t make me any less right.”
A tie then, Megatron decided. Well, they’d have ample opportunity for a rematch in the future, he was sure.