AN: This is a re-upload of an old story.
"Of course, my lord."
Megatron looked down at his subordinate with a very slight sigh. For all his lies, Starscream was as transparent as that teasing cockpit of his. Still, Megatron was, against all odds, an optimist. Just as he still believed he and his kind could take back Cybertron, still he lived in the eternal hope that Starscream would one day surprise him.
The jet was on one knee before Megatron's throne, his head bowed deferentially and his wings lowered. Megatron liked to think he'd gotten quite good at reading the seeker's moods through the movements of his wings, but there was always the possibility that Starscream was aware of this. Thus, Megatron never took Starscream's obsequious displays of devotion too seriously.
"Well. Just make sure you actually manage it, this time."
He relaxed back in his chair, optics fixed lazily on Starscream. The jet looked up, and spoke with a smooth, oily voice, "Oh, you can count on me, lord."
As cynical as he had grown around Starscream, he did still like when the jet called him "lord". It was a particular vanity of his, to listen to the jet force himself to utter such things. To pretend the emotion in his voice was real.
"That is what you assured me last time, Starscream." He had no reason to draw out this exchange. He could have just ordered Starscream to leave, and the jet would have saluted and strode pertly out, and Megatron would be left in peace for a few blessed joors. However, that accursed vanity, that damned optimism... Starscream was on his knees and looking up at him, and at least pretending to be loyal. Forgive an old mech his weakness.
Starscream's optics narrowed and his expression turned sharper for a nanoklik before he seemed to realise his façade was slipping. He schooled his faceplates into an ingratiating smile and replied, "The Autobot's back-up forces were unforeseen."
"They should not have been."
Pretending to be cowed, Starscream bowed his head. "No, sir."
Megatron watched him closely. He thought he saw the silvery tip of Starscream's glossa flick out to moisten those lips.
"I demand the best of my soldiers, Starscream. If you cannot make the cut, you can be easily replaced. It is that simple."
Oh, Starscream had certain qualities that made him invaluable, but no mech was irreplaceable. Regrettable as that was.
Starscream made a quiet sound of agreement, as though truly feeling the weight of the consequences of further failures.
He lifted his head, and Megatron's processor stalled for a nanoklik when that quick glossa flicked out again, this time to lick tentatively at Megatron's thigh.
Oh, Megatron thought. "Careful, Starscream." His voice was sharp, but his engines revved quietly, warming his frame. His processor was suddenly sharp and utterly focused on the sly, graceful mech on his knees before him.
"Yes, my lord," Starscream purred. He had a small, asymmetrical smile on his face which Megatron did not miss, but was prepared to ignore, as he leaned up to nuzzle Megatron's inner thigh. The jet ran his glossa over his sharp teeth and continued, "Anything you command."
Megatron shivered and eased his legs wider. His hands held onto the arms of the throne, gripping tightly; apart from that, he appeared utterly at ease. He wasn't sure what Starscream's aim was, what he wanted to gain from this - and there was always some game with Starscream - but he couldn't ask. Neither of them could ever break the pretence. He assumed the jet wanted to prove how irreplaceable he believed he was.
Starscream knelt a little higher, and Megatron gave a jolt as he felt Starscream mouth at the sensitive plating of his thigh, his glossa slipping out and feeling searingly hot.
Megatron growled and took hold of the back of Starscream's helm in one large hand. "Starscream."
"Mm...?" Starscream looked up, optics half shuttered and a pleasant, dark crimson that had Megatron's engine rumbling. They held each other's optics for a long moment, something not quite like honesty but something like mute understanding passing between them. Starscream was a very honest creature, really; his true nature was so strong that he never even tried to fight it. Megatron knew the jet was playing, was out to take him for all - whatever - he had. And Megatron would thwart him every time, would keep him down, would refuse to give... and he would take, too. A kind of mutual ruthlessness. It was, at least, a quality Megatron liked.
Megatron broke that curious moment by taking hold of Starscream's jaw with his free hand. Starscream looked mildly indignant, and Megatron tilted his face up, slipping his thumb into Starscream's mouth and catching his plating on a fang.
"It's rare for you to offer such shows of devotion, Starscream. What an exemplary soldier you are." His voice was a deeper purr than Starscream's, and something dark and warm was beginning to stir within his spark. His optics flicked to the brands on Starscream's wings. His. Marked forever, unless Starscream went and changed the plating. Even then, the marks would always remain, somehow... underneath. Within. Burned right into that devious processor, that wonderful black spark.
He pulled Starscream's head up and the jet surprised him by coming with him, rising onto his feet and allowing his leader to claim his lips in a kiss - impulsive and a gamble on Megatron's part. The instant Starscream failed to pull away or claw him, Megatron's engines revved and he gave a low, rough growl. He kissed Starscream harder, forcing his glossa past the jet's lips. He moved his hand from Starscream's jaw to his waist and pulled him roughly into his lap. Starscream's claws pricked at Megatron's shoulders, then raked down his upper arms. The older mech gave a muffled sound of pain and bit at Starscream's lips.
Still holding the back of Starscream's helm, Megatron forced the jet's head back, breaking the kiss and baring his teeth in a snarl. Starscream sneered back at him, but Megatron was gratified to see that he was a little breathless. "Trying to damage your esteemed leader?" His tone held a warning.
"Of course not... my lord," Starscream replied silkily. He gave his hips an artful roll, making Megatron hiss and squeeze his tiny waist. "I never thought that a little scratch like that could damage such a mech as you."
"Hmm. Is that so."
"Mhmm." Starscream tried to nod, but found Megatron's grip too strong. Instead, he gave his hips a wriggle and presumptuously looped his arms around Megatron's neck.
Megatron snarled quietly. Starscream knew exactly what he was doing. Megatron knew what Starscream was doing, too, but he was inclined to permit it, just this once...
"Just watch the claws."
"Oh, yes. Yes, of course... " Megatron looked at him, optics dark but flat. Waiting for the title. Starscream licked his lips, as though he relished the word, "Master."
Megatron couldn't stop the small snort of laughter, but even so the two simple syllables did something to his spark and his CPU, something dark and raw and wanting. He forced Starscream's head back and bit his exposed throat, thrilling to feel the jet shiver and squirm. His hands were heavy on Starscream's armour, but never clumsy; every touch and every mark was left with very definite intent. Fingermarks at Starscream's hips, scratches over his back, small dents to his thighs and the lower edges of his wings.
Starscream laughed breathlessly. He snapped and ground his hips more insistently, and answered Megatron's rough touches with stinging, fine scratches from his spindly claws. He was marking the elder mech in his own way.
Megatron took hold of Starscream's hips and lifted him. Decisive at last, he reached between the jet's taut thighs, meaning to tear his panel open, but found Starscream had beaten him to it. Starscream snickered and purred as Megatron's blunt fingers found the outer rim of his valve and firmly swiped across. His spike extended, and he took himself in hand, arching his back in a calculatedly sluttish display.
Megatron only sneered and unsheathed his own spike. He pulled Starscream down onto him in the same moment, and drove up just as he forced Starscream down. He rammed his way in to the hilt, grunting and tensing his lower chassis, hands crushingly tight on Starscream's hips. Starscream, to Megatron's delight, actually yelped. He was still arched, and now he gave a shudder, his wings trembling most attractively. Megatron reached up and tweaked one, reshaping the metal on the wing's edge.
Starscream hissed and retaliated. Four parallel claw marks across Megatron's brand - a mark over a mark - that stung, and resonated.
Megatron bit Starscream's shoulder, and rumbled, "I told you to watch the claws."
"My most s-sincere apologies, my lord," Starscream replied. He managed to keep up the slimy act even now, though the shakiness to his vocals was a testament to the strength with which Megatron had begun to rock up into him. "You must be more specific - oh! - with your requests-"
"Orders."
"Commands!"
"Yes...!" Megatron held Starscream's hips down and circled his own, grinding deep and slow. Starscream's valve was sweet, and his narrow hips meant that he was very, very tight. He was watching the curves of that lithe body as well, the contortions of Starscream's face. The jet's optics were a burning, bloody red, his teeth sharp and gleaming. He looked like a dangerous creature. Deadly. Megatron knew that no matter how Starscream rebelled against him, no matter how he schemed, he would still never be anything but the purest and cruellest Decepticon at spark. That thought made him growl and his hips snap faster, made his hands harder. Starscream gave a breathy cry and braced his hands against his leader's shoulders, claws curling in, latching on. "Better... that's better..."
"A-anything for... ahh..." Starscream was slipping; he'd never had much self-control, and it showed. His faceplates were flushed dark, and his wings were held high and seemed to shimmer, reflecting the violet light. Condensation beaded on both their armour, both their systems' cooling fans whirring a harmony. "For you, my lord...! Anything..."
Liar, Megatron thought, but bit his glossa. He pulled Starscream into another kiss, this one hard and painful, all force and teeth, from both. Starscream bit, and Megatron bit back. He slammed his spike into Starscream's stretched, wet valve harder, wanting to hurt. Starscream clawed him in return. The jet's valve rippled around Megatron, always tight, taking the force and heat, Starscream only snarling and demanding more. Always wanting, always hungry.
Megatron grabbed onto Starscream's wings and used them to ram him down instead of his hips. His hands twisted the delicate metal, leaving prints, and Starscream yowled and clawed Megatron's cheek. Megatron bit that hand and drew energon, the taste sharp and surprising. Starscream watched him, shuddered, and then his body became taut; back curved, wings brittle. Did he know how vulnerable he was? How beautiful he looked? Megatron sucked at Starscream's hand, keeping his teeth in deep, and hammered his hips up rapidly. He thrust deep, jolting Starscream's lighter frame each time, until he eventually came with a rough, wild cry. He scraped his fingers down Starscream's back in a fast, unthinking need to mark him further, and pulled him forward. He let go of the jet's hand and fastened his mouth instead on the upper edge of one wing.
Starscream moaned and his hips jerked. Megatron felt that gorgeous valve constrict again, and his spike was again surrounded by a fresh wave of heat. He could hear the soft, obscene noises the jet's fluids made when he slid his spike in and out - just shallow, rocking movements now as his overload began to pass - and he licked his lips. Starscream slumped forward, leaning against his leader's broad chest. His wing-tips trembled slightly, and condensation made the curves of his back glisten. Megatron nuzzled the side of Starscream's helm, his optics half-shuttered. He was pleased, but the dark thing that had awoken in his spark was far from sated.
He pawed at Starscream's aft, then gave the curve of it an experimental squeeze. Starscream made a soft sound but didn't object. Megatron smiled. Using both hands, he lifted Starscream's aft a little and spread him, then, experimenting further, curled a finger and slid it, with some work, into the jet's valve alongside his own spike. Starscream whimpered at the new stretch, and curled his arms around Megatron's neck again.
"Too much, Starscream?" Megatron slid in a second finger, hissing quietly from the sensation - so tight, so perfect - and stroking his spike with the two fingers, stretching Starscream a little bit more. Would it ever be too much? Would it ever be enough?
Starscream lifted his head and met Megatron's optics. "Never," he said, vocaliser low and deceptively soft. "My lord."