Title: Rehabilitation

Characters: Optimus, Megatron

Summary: With the war over, Optimus and his earth team hailed as heroes, and the biggest, baddest Decepticons in prison, what now? Both Megatron and Optimus are in for a surprise when the Council gives them two choices: Megatron's execution or rehabilitation through servitude to Optimus. Megatron, rather than be humiliated at a death by Autobot hands, chooses the latter, giving Optimus an opportunity to dish out his own form of revenge for all Megatron had done to him and his team,

Rating: M to be safe

Note: this a commission done for someone on Devianart based on a piece of art made by Rosey-Raven on Deviantart

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There were many things in life that Megatron was certain of: one) that he was the rightful ruler of the Decepticons, two) that he would one day reclaim Cybertron for the Decepticons, and three) that if he had one wish, it would be to be able to burn Optimus Prime to a crisp with only his optics.

This cycle had not gone well for him, not only was he a captive of the weakling Autobots, this cycle was his "hearing" where he was certain that he'd be publicly executed as a statement of power by these idiotic, naive bots. But not only did that not happen, something completely unthinkable had occurred; he was given a choice. Shocking, yes, these moronic, glitch-infested bots had the capability in their puny processors to come up with something even more degrading than deactivation by their servos.

Megatron had been given a choice, in front of all of Cybertron: be offlined or rehabilitation through indentured servitude. What really ground his gears was to whom he'd be "given" to. When the council had called the name "Optimus Prime", Megatron had to forcibly reboot his processors to keep from glitching. He had turned his fiery glare upon the named Auto-brat and refused to look away. The only consolation to this utter humiliation was the fact that the Prime looked equally baffled and disgusted as Megatron felt. The Prime had tried to speak up and oppose, but the leader of the council, Alpha Trion, had already slammed down his gavel and made the order official.

Megatron had been led away and placed back into his holding cell to await pick up from his new "master".

That led to where he was currently at, staring through the forcefield at Optimus Prime, who he oh-so-wished would spontaneously combust.

He could see Prime was unnerved, but the Autobot hid it well. He could see it in the way the Prime shifted his weight and how he wouldn't meet his optics. The Autobot was the first to break the silence.

"Look, i know you are not happy about this-"

"Now what would give you that idea, Autobot?" Megatron cut him off, his voice filled with so much sarcasm it was almost fatal. Optimus huffed, his optical brows pinching together.

"Look, maybe we can work something out…"

"Ah yes, "work something out". Tell me Autobot, just what do you have planned, hm? Just what do you think I want that you can offer to get me to agree to anything? The Council mechs who hold the other end of your leash won't let you give me anything I could possibly want." his voice was a low and dangerous purr, his optics glaring at the autobot in the darkness.

Optimus frowned looking down at the axe he was clutching in his servos. Grabbing it a little tighter, he looked up into the burning red optics.

"I can't give you anything you want." He said, earning a sarcastic 'Obviously' from the caged Warlord. "But we can make this as painless as possible and try to… be civil with one another."

"Civil, yes. As I'm tied in chains and you're pointing a weapon at me. As you command, Master." Optimus could actually feel the sarcasm of Megatron's words hit him like a punch in the face. The Prime sighed, pinching the bridge of his nasal ridge, a bad human habit he had picked up while on Earth.

"Just come on." Optimus said wearily, opening the cell and grabbing a tool from the wall, one that would latch onto the cuffs so Optimus could steer Megatron from a safe distance. Optimus purposefully avoided other bots while he directed Megatron to a transport in the back of the building. Ever since the Council had made the public announcement about Megatron being "rehabilitated" under his care, he had been non-stop harassed by every media bot within a hundred mile radius. They had been on his aft like white on rice (a strange saying he had heard Sari use a few times, but it seemed appropriate for this. But what was 'rice'?).

Megatron didn't put up too much of a fight, no doubt imagining the many different ways he could kill the Prime and the Council with his only his servos or making a plan of escape. Optimus's servos tightened on the rod.

They arrived to the transport with no one seeing them, a small miracle that made Optimus huff out a sigh as he nudged the larger mech into the shuttle.

"The Council has ordered me to take you to a secure location during your rehabilitation." Optimus said to Megatron, who ignored him. He shifted in his seat, feeling the anger that filled Megatron's field like a thunderstorm.

Optimus had to admit, he was a lot less nervous around Megatron that he should have been. The mech still made Optimus go on high alert, of course, he'd be a fool not to be cautious every click around him; however, he didn't feel the fear he once did. Maybe it was the ultra-strength industrial grade stasis cuffs around Megatron's wrists, or maybe it was that he knew how to fight him, or even the Matrix of Leadership, which now sat in his chassis. But that was another story. But Optimus was sure that had to deal with the Council's decision with to whom to place Megatron with. He was glad only a handful of bots knew he had the Matrix.

The shuttle ride was over in an hour and Optimus quickly steared Megatron into the building the shuttle was parked behind.

After the announcement of Megatron's new custody arrangement, it was seen to that Optimus was given a place that could contain the former warlord; somewhere large, well guarded (but not by anything sentient), and away from the main population. It was good on paper, but this meant that Optimus was alone with Megatron, hours away from backup. He could ask some of his team to come, but all of them had already settled back into life on Cybertron, had jobs or training to go to and Optimus didn't have the spark to take them away from that and put them in constant contact with the mech that had been constantly trying to kill them during their time on Earth.

He hoped they'd visit at least.

The place was larger than he had thought, with reinforced walls and doors that needed optic and servo scans to open. It was a little over the top, in his opinion, but it was Megatron he was dealing with, so he wouldn't complain.

"How inordinate" Megatron's voice startled Optimus out of his thoughts.

Optimus looked up "This is where we are going to rehabilitate you." he said with an air of confidence. Megatron peered down at him a devilish look in his optics.

"I dare you to try."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Now Optimus considered himself to be a very patient, forgiving mech. He was sure that if he was able to deal with Bumblebee for stellar cycles, he was able to get through anything without breaking a coolant sweat.

He was wrong.

Oh so very wrong.

"How exactly were you able to throw a couch through the reinforced ceiling?" Optimus asked, his servos pressed together in front of his face like he was praying to Primus to give him strength not activate the stasis lock on Megatron's cuffs and just leave him there.

"I have absolutely no clue as to what you are referring, Autobot." Megatron purred in a smug voice. Optimus gave a pointed look to the (obviously) guilty mech, who was sitting on the floor, since their couch was currently halfway through the ceiling above them.

"Really?" Optimus said, sarcasm trickling in his voice even though he was trying hard not to. Megatron just smirked at him, the sides of his lips curling smugly like a turbo-cat who had just push an expensive glass off the side of table. A brief flash of Megatron with cat ears made him shake his helm to dispel the thought.

It had only been a few weeks since Megatron had been in his custody, and he had been raising Pit wherever he possibly could. A couch in the ceiling (how the frag did he get it up there?), one leg of every chair broken off, and every dish they had was bent out of shape just to name a few. Optimus could no longer enjoy a cube of energon without having to use a funnel to get the liquid in the cube.

It wasn't Megatron just breaking stuff either. Unless you counted Optimus will not to bash him over the helm. He'd keep Optimus up all night, banging on the walls, making scratching noises, and when Optimus would go to see what the frag he was doing, the damn mech would pretend he had been sleeping the whole time, and chew Optimus out for waking him.

Optimus was really on his last leg of patience. How exactly was he going to explain how a couch got through 3 layers of reinforced cybronium plating to the repair bots?

Optimus internally screamed into the void, his fingers tapping against forhelm, his fingers still pressed together in front of his face. He stopped the tapping to look at the smug Decepticon leader.

"You are going to clean this up." Optimus ordered, motioning to the rubble all over the floor. Optimus was slightly hesitant to really order Megatron around and had been avoiding doing so during the weeks they had been here together. But now, he could see he needed to.

Megatron scoffed, leaning back against the wall and closing his optics to ignore him. Optimus frowned, his arms crossing.

"That is an order." Megatron continued to ignore him and Optimus' optic twitched. "Megatron, if you don't listen to me, I'm going to have to punish you." This got Megatron's optics open, a look of challenge deeply set in the red.

"Oh really, Autobot?" Megatron said, challenge in his voice. Really, what could this Autobot do? Chain him up? Torture? Stasis? Megatron could handle whatever this little brat could throw his way. Megatron laughed out loud, mockingly to the Prime.

"I'm not your maid, Autobot." he spit out, his optics closing again. "You clean it up yourself."

Megatron didn't see the calculating, devilish look in Optimus's optics.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Megatron remembered when he had challenged that stupid, unworthy-to-lick-his-peds Autobrat. A part of him was regretful of that, that deep part of him that didn't know how evil this Prime really was. The punishment the mech had in mind was nothing Megatron could have ever thought of, something so cruel and disgusting he wouldn't wish it upon Starscream! What mech in their right processor would think of such a punishment? Not even the worst of Decepticons, not even him!

Megatron pulled at frilled cloth around his thighs, a hateful look in his optics as he found out his cuffs didn't let him rip it to shreds off his frame.

Optimus stood in front of him, smartly out of reach of the pissed Decepticon. One arm was crossed against his chassis, holding up the other arm which's servo was currently cupping his chin. He looked like a critic overlooking designer armor plating or a piece of art, and quite frankly, it made Megatron both pissed and slightly uncomfortable (which only made him even more pissed).

Optimus, however, was rather pleased with himself. It wasn't his normal form of punishment, for sure, but he knew that nothing else would affect Megatron.

Revenge was sweet.

Optimus was rather surprised when he had been able to find the frilly pink and purple maid outfit to purchase close in Megatron's size. He had to adjust some of the proportions with what little sewing knowledge he had, and he had to put Megatron in stasis lock to get the outfit on him and adjust the pressure sensors on the cuffs so he wouldn't rip it off himself. It was a lot of work, but Optimus knew it was worth every second just to see the look on Megatron's face when he undid the stasis lock and when Megatron found out he couldn't rip it off.

Optimus would save the datafile of Megatron's facial expression for eons to come. The little frilled bonnet that he put on Megatron's helm was the icing on the oilcake and he had to hold his breath not to laugh.

Megatron bared his teeth at the wheezing Prime, who's face was turning an alarming shade of blue.

"I will enjoy ending your pathetic life, Autobot" Megatron snarled, his hateful gaze turning from the optic-watering pink and purple maid outfit to Optimus.

"None of that," Optimus said, a sly smirk on his face, "Or I'll punish you even more." Megatron growled but said nothing more, unwilling to see how this cruel mech could make this 'punishment' even worse.

Optimus was feeling a bit giddy, though he'd never admit it outloud. He had a leg up on Megatron, finally something to keep Megatron from bending his cutlery or keeping him up all hours of the night.

"Now," Optimus said seriously, keeping his voice even and vacant of his deep amusement, "you are going to go clean up the mess you made." Megatron snarled loudly, his teeth showing.

"As if I'd lower myself to-" Megatron's words were cut off as Optimus pulled out a small device.

A camera.

"You wouldn't." Optimus didn't hold back his smile this time.

"Try me."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

It had been a solid month and a half and Megatron was still wearing the cursed maid outfit. Megatron had done everything he could to get rid of it: spilled oil on it, purposefully ripped it on corners, splashing cleaning solutions on it to bleach it, etc. He had tried everything, but that damn Prime had extras made apparently and was more than ready to put him into stasis and manhandle him into another.

And that was another thing.

The Prime had been getting awfully handsy lately.

It was infuriating. At first it seemed accidental, like a servo brushing across his back as he picked up something the Prime (purposefully) dropped. But lately the Prime had been getting bolder and bolder. He was not touching anywhere private, but areas like his thighs and lower back where it was damn near close.

Megatron told him to frag off multiple times, and Optimus would give him a smug smirk and say he had 'absolutely no clue as to what he was referring', mocking what he had said after the couch incident. He was getting frustrated. No one dared to make such bold moves upon his person amongst his fellow Decepticons. He was respected, revered, and here he was, getting groaped by an Autobot not even half his size. He was no stranger to fragging, but this was infuriating! Especially since every time the puny Autobot did anything he had that damn smirk on his face.

This whole situation was humiliating. Not only was he a captive of the disgraceful Autobots, he was also a slave (for all intents and purposes), forced to wear the damn maid outfit, and he was being felt up by the Prime who cause it all! It made Megatron's deep-seated desire to incinerate the Prime climb to an even higher level.

And Megatron would never EVER admit to the reactions his frame had to the Prime's touches.

Ever.

Megatron grumbled as he picked up a few cubes of energon and placed them onto a tray. Another humiliating task he was appointed was bringing the Autobot his energon. The Prime was lucky that there was nothing poisonous in the whole building or else he'd he drooling on the floor by now.

Megatron grumbled more as he picked up the tray and walked into the other room where Optimus was buffing out the scuffs in his axe and was currently working on the handle. The scuffs had come from Megatron chucking the weapon into the garbage compactor when Optimus hadn't been looking. It had beaten the axe into a pretzel when Optimus had finally fished it from the machine, and it took Optimus cycles to bend the dents out of the metal. As punishment, Megatron was forced to wear more ridiculous cloth on his person. A frilly purple piece of cloth that covered his interface panel it the most unflattering of ways. He was sure he heard the Autobot call them 'undergarments' or something close. It was ridiculous looking and wounded Megatron's pride more than he was willing to admit. Megatron promised to himself to gouge the optics out of any mech that saw him like this, starting with the Prime.

Optimus glanced up as Megatron walked into the room, a small smirk tugging on his lips, but said nothing. Neither did Megatron, who just glared at the smug mech with a mix of loathing and nerved anticipation.

"Just a moment," Optimus said, breaking the silence. "I have almost finished buffing out the scratches." he turned back to the handle of the axe, pressing the rage back against the metal to buff out the scuffs.

Optimus's thumb accidently hit the button that made the weapon's handle extend. It was an honest mistake, but Optimus didn't bother making that apparent when handle extended at an angle that lifted the edge of the maid dress and exposed the frilly underwear he made Megatron wear. Megatron, who had been desperately trying to forget about the cursed undergarments existence, made a noise between an 'ack' and a growl as he pushed down the side of the outfit, a part of him feeling scandalized under the Prime's smug grin that curled the sides of his lips up like a turbo-cat.

"Hm, those undergarments are very flattering on your figure, I should have thought of them sooner." Optimus teased to and embarrassed Megatron. Megatron growled, red dusting his cheeks as he glared daggers at Optimus.

"If I didn't have these cuffs on, I'd render you limb from limb." the snubbed mech growled. Optimus tisked.

"That isn't very nice, Megatron. Perhaps my punishments are not getting through to you?" Optimus couldn't help the purr that came to his voice as he stood, his otics hooded in a sultry threat. Megatron shifted and looked at him with narrowed optics, hissed at him like a wild animal as Optimus advanced.

Megatron was quite unprepared for when Optimus lept at him. He was expecting the Prime to come at him, yes, but he wasn't expecting the oaf to fragging JUMP at him. Megatron quickly ducked out of the way, throwing the tray in the air and sprinting away before he could be into some other ridiculous costume the demented Prime had in his closet.

Optimus really didn't have a plan in mind, he just wanted to throw Megatron off his game. He didn't plan on chasing Megatron through the building whilst the other spit out curses of his and the Autobot's destruction. It was a little ridiculous, but Optimus thought it was more than worth it to see the leader of the Decepticons running around in frilly maid outfit, the wind from his running kicking up the back of the dress and exposing the frilled underwear for anybot to see.

Thankfully for the Decepticon, it was just the two of them in the building.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Two weeks later and Megatron was getting paranoid. He knew he was probably overreacting, but he didn't give a damn at the moment as he looked around the corner to see if the Prime was there. He berated himself for his paranoia of the damn Prime, he was the leader of the fragging Decepticons for Pits sake! And if the Prime showed his face after what he'd been doing Megatron would deck him in the face!

He could lie to himself as much as he wanted, but if Optimus showed up, Megatron would run in the other direction.

It wasn't that he feared the Prime, oh frag no, he'd rip him into tiny pieces if he had the chance. No, it wasn't that he feared what the Prime would do, it was what he feared he'd do.

Megatron cursed under his breath, walking down the hall to the kitchens to get energon since his tanks were low.

Optimus had been as bold as ever, his touches not stopping but thankfully not going anywhere too inappropriate. The Prime had even gone as far as to kiss the back of one of his servos at one point. What made him angry was how he was beginning to fragging like it. It pissed Megatron off to no end on how his frame's temperature would go up in a couple degrees when the Prime smirked smugly at him during a trade of wits. Or when Megatron began to look forward to the touches the Prime gave him.

Megatron grumbled as he filled a cube and sipped at it, enjoying the taste of pure energon, which was hard to come by when he had been in space. Megatron pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensors, a bad habit he picked up from Optimus.

He absolutely detested the thoughts that snuck into his processor lately, and he was sure to vent his anger on the furniture and other things in the building. Megatron wouldn't call it a tantrum, but after one particular incident where Megatron threw yet another couch through the ceiling, Optimus did, and it pissed him off enough to try and throw the Prime through the ceiling, too.

That incident was another reason he was hiding from the damn Prime. Optimus had returned a few hours ago from an errand run with a large box in his servos and that tale-tell smug smirk on his face told everything Megatron needed to know of just what was in it. So he was avoiding him.

He was NOT hiding from him.

He grumbled again. This place, the Autobot, was driving him mad. He needed to get out, not that he hadn't already tried and been thwarted by the damn Prime and the security systems. Megatron retreated to the room he was given to formulate a plan.

No matter what that damn Prime did to him or how his frame reacted, he would escape and return to his fellow Decepticons and reclaim his rightful place. He would conquer Cybertron and the Autobots with it.

Perhaps he'd keep the Prime alive and as his slave. Megatron laughed at his thoughts. Yes, that sounded like a sound plan. And then Megatron would return every humiliating moment the Prime had caused him. He'd make Prime wear that fragging maid outfit. Megatron's lips curled into a grin not unlike the Prime's had been before.

He'd make him wear the undergarments, too. But first, Megatron had to escape his imprisonment.

It was only a matter of time.