Hello follow Transfans!
I know, I know, I have a lot of stories to update and yet I start a new one... Bad me! But really I can't help it.
This is a G1 story, which takes place in the late episodes of season 2. There will be a few guest appearances from other continuities, and mainly MTMTE ( because, admit it, MTMTE is awesome)
But you don't need to have read MTMTE to understand the story.
Note on time measurement:
Astro-second ( also, a nanoklik): half a second.
One breem: 8,3 minutes.
One klik: 45 secondes.
One joor: 83 minutes
One orn: 20,4 hours ( a day)
Decacycle: a bit more than one week.
Megacycle: a bit more than one month.
Solarcycle: One year on Earth.
Vorn: 83 years.
Title: Deceitful ( This is a lame and temporary title!)
Genre: Drama, romance, adventure, misplaced humor, sort-of supernatural.
Pairings: Megatron/Starscream as well as other minor pairings.
Warnings for this chapter: an Half-explicit sex scene and some very bad quotes...
Ch 1. Prologue: The raid that couldn't fail
It was night time, the single star around which this planet revolved would rise less than two hours later. Hours...? How comes he was starting to think like the pest that inhabited this mud-ball of a planet. Such a ridiculous, scandalous idea, Megatron thought, and he did feel slightly disappointed with himself for his mind-slip.
The star would rise in one joor and five breems.
Much better.
Clearly they had been here for too long, courtesy of the Autobots who were getting a tad too enamored with the planet and its human vermin. Spoilsports they were, it wasn't practical to continue the war in these conditions anymore, and it was more than time they fixed that. Cybertron was waiting.
Hopefully their home planet wouldn't wait for long, not with the victory so close at hand. And as the Decepticon celebrated the start of a new era of Plenty, the offlined carcasses of Optimus Prime and his merry band of fools would rust here on this planet they so dearly loved.
Megatron smiled wickedly, even though there was no one here to see him doing so at this time of the orn. He was alone in the quiet, comforting darkness of his private quarters, with nothing to spoil the tranquility of the place, but the soft humming of ventilation fans and the sound of his own vents.
The slag maker was having a relaxing moment, seated at his desk on which laid- among a pile of other stuff- the datapad containing all the details about the raid planned that day. He had read it, ten times over. It was perfect.
He lifted a cube of high-grade to his still grinning lips, emptied its content in one swing and welcomed the burning sensation with a groan of satisfaction. This night was almost perfect, all he needed to turn it into ultimate perfection was...
A light rasping at the door.
...This.
Soft beeping noises were heard in the silence as his visitor keyed in the entry code he wasn't supposed to know, and Megatron's grin turned feral for a brief instant before he swiftly arranged his expression into a more neutral one.
He didn't want the newcomer to know how eager he was to see him.
As the door slid open to reveal a familiar winged frame, Megatron pivoted on his chair to face whoever dared disturb him.
"Starscream," he said in a low rumble, "shouldn't you be recharging? Today will be quite the eventful orn!"
The seeker shrugged and stepped inside the Decepticon commander's domain, not on the least bothered to ask if he was allowed to do so. "I have recharged enough," Starscream stated as he approached his leader,"beside, this orn's raid will be a mere formality."
Raids were never a formality.
"What makes you so optimistic about it?" Megatron asked casually, which made Starscream huff.
"The strategy was my idea," he said flatly, and he almost sounded offended, as if it should have been obvious: A plan thought by him couldn't fail. And it didn't matter if it already had, dozen of times in the past, a fact that obviously didn't do as much as breach his self-confidence.
Walking past his leader nonchalantly- always the very picture of arrogance, the seeker picked the canister he found on the desk and served himself a full cube of its content. Taking a sip, he let out a sigh of satisfaction and leaned backward against the piece of furniture. Entirely unafraid of what his actions could cost him, he regarded his leader with a superiority-laden smirk.
Megatron sneered at him, hiding the something that never failed to awaken inside of him at the mere sight of his second-in-command. His spark stirred within his chassis, but he would sooner let it consume him whole, than admit to its existence.
And he wouldn't make the first step in starting what Starscream had undoubtedly come for; a game that had lasted for years without any of them growing bored of it.
Starscream knew, but he just remained where he was, smiling cockily and drinking his energon as if he had all the time in the world.
Truth was, they didn't have much time, they never really had.
"Ah enough, already!" Megatron growled after a full breem had been wasted. He snatched Starscream's drink from the seeker's hands, threw it somewhere, placed an arm around his second's waist and forcefully pulled him closer.
Starscream landed on his leader's lap with a victorious little laugh, more than satisfied to have won that first round. Acting fast, he dug his talons into Megatron's shoulders and bent down to claim a pair of white lips he liked to think were rightfully his to kiss and abuse. Already, he planned to win the second round as well.
Everything in their interactions was a constant challenge. For power or for pleasure, every occurrence was another occasion to prove a point. And whatever it was they had, it would never get in the way of their respective ambitions. Starscream wanted the throne for himself and he made sure, from time to time, to remind Megatron that he'd never stop challenging him for it. Megatron wasn't going to surrender his power, ever, to anyone, and the resulting arguments between them would still be as violent and painful as ever.
But, really, they didn't mind those as much as they used to...
Starscream stopped his musing entirely and focused on the much pleasant task of devouring his leader's mouth.
Only when both his and Megatron's lips were thoroughly bruised did he pull away from the kiss, reluctantly so. The feeling of their bodies pressed so hard against each other drowned their processors in a tick haze of lust they didn't wish to control anymore. As he leaned back to observe his leader's face, Starscream's optic sensors, dim and darkened by arousal, were met by an equally lust-filled gaze.
"Starscream!" Megatron growled deep, his voice unmistakably filled with a desire to claim and possess. Of course, in the way the warlord had pronounced his name, Starscream heard everything that hadn't been said. But he paid it no heed: he was here for his sole, egoistic pleasure.
"Megatron!" He hissed wantonly, wanting to sound irritated but failing completely. What if there was something else to this...relationship? It wasn't like he'd ever admit it to himself anyway.
Groaning in desire, Megatron pulled the seeker back against his overheated frame and latched his mouth on an appealing gray throat that immediately let out a- highly erotic- gasp of pleasure. What if his spark wanted nothing but to merge with the other it felt so near? It wasn't like he'd ever allow that to happen.
Their interface panels clicked open almost simultaneously. Although they were usually never satisfied until they'd spend themselves thoroughly in their physical activities- those which involved more pleasure than pain- they both knew they had to be quick about it; only a few breems later, the troops would assemble for the pre-battle briefing.
Holding fast onto each other, their hands stroking and groping hard enough to leave dents in their wake, they started to grind against each other. They wanted more, far more, but the friction would have to do this time.
Pressing their needy frames flush, so hard that their paint almost started to transfer onto the other, they started to move languorously against each other. As their equipment, rock hard, slid and rubbed together in a most pleasant way, they moaned, groaned and screamed their pleasure with no shame or restrain.
They didn't need to be cautious, for no room was better soundproofed than Megatron's quarters, and it had proved quite useful on more than one occurrence.
Their burning optics met and both mechs held their passion-filled gaze, as if starting a staring contest, which was actually the case. Here again, there would be a challenge.
Starscream tried to smirk but couldn't hold onto his own loud verbal expressions of bliss. Megatron tried to grin, but that only made him look like his head was about to explode somehow, and deep growls of pleasure still passed through his clenched denta anyway.
Shifting his pelvis forward as much as he could, the seeker- always treacherous, even then- bent his back in a graceful bow and tried to slow down the pace to get a better control of the situation. But then, naturally, all Megatron had to do was slid a hand between them to reverse the situation once again.
"Ooh fragger!" Starscream spluttered as the warlord did something very nice with his thumb and something even nicer with his index finger. He couldn't take it anymore, couldn't hold onto it, it was far too- damn-good. A jerk of his own hips was all it took to make him scream his overload for the universe to hear. ( and because of/thanks to the sound-proofed walls, it was just Megatron's audios that were painfully assaulted)
Starscream swore it would be the last time he'd let himself be fooled like that, yet he looked nothing but smug when Megatron succumbed to his own climax with a mighty roar, not an astro-second later.
Basking in the afterglow, they didn't make a move to separate and couldn't care less about the mess they had made on their frames.
They never thought further into this, never wanted to either. It was much easier that way. They desired each other's frame, took as much pleasure as they could gain out of their...romps, there was nothing else to that.
Future rulers of the Universe do not have feelings.
In Megatron's private washracks, they turned their back on each other as they cleaned away all the evidences of what they had just done. None of them wanted for their...little secret to be discovered by the rest of the army. No one knew, not even Soundwave or Starscream's trine mates.
Their relationship didn't exist, period. And, anyway, it wasn't a relationship.
Megatron discreetly turned around to peer at his second-in-command as the solvent worked to make them presentable.
The clear liquid ran down across the expense of two magnificent wings, always held high in pride, droplets traveling down and caressing the curve of the seeker's back and red hips, to finish their course along his powerful thighs and thrusters... it was altogether too tempting.
"I am aware of how resistible I look, but you ought to hurry up, Megatron."
The warlord looked back up, way up, at his second-in-command's smirking face. "Don't tell me what to do!" He warned, cursing himself for having been caught. No need to worry, he thought with relief; he had sounded threatening enough. Starscream grinned. Well, maybe not enough after all.
Megatron turned away with a low growl.
There was something truly frustrating about dealing with that seeker, but damn did he have a pretty face...
The Decepticon leader wished they had more time on their hands.
A pretty face on top of a unique, abrasive personality...
But in the command center, the troops were already waiting.
...On top of a brilliant mind.
He had to get ready within a breem.
Future rulers of the Universe do not have feelings.
OooIOIooO
The raid went more or less as planned. And although what happened on the field didn't matter as much as the final result, only few expectations weren't met in the end.
Prime and his dim-witted Autobots had showed up, of course, but their appearance had been taken into account in the strategy-making. This time though, unlike those other times during which they had failed to prepare, their enemies had been, for a lack of better words, deceived.
While Optimus Prime arrived for the clash, all morale in shiny armor, thinking he was defending the power plant, he didn't even realize that not all Decepticons were there to 'welcome' him and his mechs. A handful of them had been cleverly dispatched elsewhere, pumping fresh energon into cubes from an isolated electric plant, where no one and nothing could stop them.
As for Megatron, lead role of today's comedy, he was proud as a peacock of his acting performance. And it was true; he played his part admirably. He even managed to pull the most genuinely surprised expression when Optimus came running at him, expression that shifted from bemused to falsely enraged as he and the Prime started their usual one-shall-stand-one-shall-fall personal fight.
"Prime! I could never have expected you'd come to spoil the day!" He growled menacingly and prepared to welcome his foe according to battlefield 'protocol'.
"You must be stopped, Megatron, no matter the cost!" Optimus Prime retorted. Unsubspacing his rifle as he came to a stop a few paces away from the Decepticon leader. He aimed but didn't fire yet.
"You and your outdated quotes!" Megatron laughed darkly, showing off white fangs, "Obviously, you are not even trying!" he stated, contempt dripping through his voice as he transformed his right hand into a spiked mace. With a wicked and energon-hungry smirk on his face, he beckoned his opponent over.
"Speak for yourself Megatron!" Optimus countered, and they both moved in for the clash.
It went on like this, as it usually went, for a joor or two. Autobots fighting Decepticons, loud exchanges of laser fire and punches, dust and smoke, empty threats and outdated insults, and this lasted until the other team of Decepticons contacted Megatron to report that they had collected as much energon as Astrotrain could carry.
Time for the curtain to go down on a most brilliant show. Megatron disentangled himself from the wrestling match he was having with the Prime, roughly pushed him aside, opened his mouth and bellowed his trade-mark call.
"RETREAT!"
At that point, it was every Decepticon for himself. They just stopped fighting there and then, launched skyward and promptly flew back to base.
Left on the ground below, the Autobots watched them leave, shaking their fist at them with collegial shouts of victory. Coward 'cons always end up running away from the fight, with their tail between their tailpipes...As Ironhide so elegantly put it.
Yes the Decepticons did flee and, yes, they were ridiculed- again -for doing so. But the prize that awaited them at base was a proof of how advantageous the raid had been for them: Just a tad less than two thousand cubes of fresh energon, just more than what was needed to fill Shockwave's attic back on Cybertron.
Megatron contemplated today's catch with glee. "You've done well," he commented, looking at the small team of Decepticons that had collected the fuel: Astrotrain and the 'conehead' seekers.
"As a reward, I allow each of you to take five cubes from the stack." The warlord declared, feeling generous. "And for everyone," he added, turning to face the whole of his soldiers,"I decided that ninety cubes would be taken from the pile and saved for a well-deserved entertainment. The party will take place tonight in the recreational room!"
The announcement was welcomed with loud cheers and shouts of 'All hail Megatron'. Very satisfied with himself, the Decepticon leader regarded them smugly, proud of how he had tamed them all into being so loyal, obedient and completely awed by his superiority.
That reminded him...
Where in the pit was Starscream?
To be continued.
I hope you enjoyed this little intro. Please drop a review if you want to encourage me in my writing or help me improve it. Your support is always welcome!
Also, after two days of brain-squeeze, I wasn't able to find a suitable title for this story, so please drop me your suggestions. Thank you in advance!
In the next chapter: Damage report computers are a liability. Also why do they make those Mag-cuffs so damn snug?!
