Megatron didn't see Starscream again until the opening of the War and Peace Memorial. It was a fifty foot, cringeworthy cast-iron statue of two mechs grasping each other's forearms. The mechs resembled neither himself nor Prime in any distinguishable way, but that wasn't going to stop Megatron from feeling supremely embarrassed when the hideous thing was finally uncovered.
Prime was on the podium, giving his speech to the crowd filling the city square, sprawling beyond Megatron's vision. The masses waved their banners and cried out their adoration. The only reason Megatron didn't roll his optics at the spectacle was because the media would inevitably capture the moment.
On the other side of Prime's podium, as far him from as seemingly possible without being out in the crowds themselves, Starscream was stood amongst his trine.
Megatron watched him for a long while, waiting to catch his optic. But the seeker remained resolutely staring forward.
"-start of a new prosperous age of peace, solidarity, cooperation-" Prime was carrying on, apparently listing all the synonyms for unity because the speech wasn't long enough. Starscream couldn't possibly be listening as intently as he was pretending to be.
Beside Starscream, Skywarp glanced his way, and Megatron did catch his optic. He also saw Starscream harshly elbow his trine mate, muttering something out of the corner of his mouth. Skywarp's gaze turned frontwards.
They were ignoring him.
Megatron's mood soured considerably, and he was sure this evenings news would be plastered with pictures of himself scowling at the opening of the War and Peace Memorial, and Soundwave and the rest of his Public Relations team would certainly quit.
Prime had finally stopped talking, and now was time for Megatron to play out his minuscule part in this event. He came forward with Prime, each of them grasping the edge of the vibrant purple sheet covering the statue, and together pulled it off.
The crowd cheered, cameras flashed. He had to stand in place for the pictures, and though Prime's face mask meant he could be pulling any expression, Megatron didn't have such a luxury.
"Historians in the far future are going to see these pictures," Prime leant ever so slightly towards him to murmur. "And they're going to wonder why you were so miserable."
When Megatron was finally released from the constraints of the press, he was annoyed to find that Starscream had long since disappeared. And this had been the only event for the next two months they had both been scheduled for.
"Suggestion." Soundwave came out of nowhere behind him, and Megatron's spark nearly leapt out of its casing. "Arrange a private audience between yourself and Starscream."
Megatron bristled, "What makes you think I want to see him?!"
Soundwave stared at him silently.
Megatron snarled in irritation and stalked in the direction of the Autobot delegation. The sooner he exchanged empty pleasantries with them, the sooner he could leave. Halfway through the torture of listening to Jazz gush on about his and Prowl's new home in Praxus, Megatron caught sight of two dark purple wings. Skywarp.
He waved Jazz's story to a finish and quickly excused himself.
Skywarp was sitting on the steps beneath the memorial, waiting. Megatron hadn't seen the seeker since the very beginning of the negotiations, which seemed so long ago now. He hadn't changed much. His smile was broader perhaps, his armour better kept; but he was much the same seeker.
"Hey," he said with none of the respect of someone addressing a superior officer. Then, Megatron supposed he wasn't anymore.
"Skywarp," he nodded, looming over the jet when Skywarp didn't move to stand. "Your trine left rather quickly."
"Busy mechs." Skywarp shrugged, then with all the subtlety of a fusion cannon to the face, said, "You still single? Asking for a friend."
"What?" Megatron demanded, veering back.
"I can set you up, you know?" Skywarp snapped his fingers as if struck with a sudden thought, "Hey! Screamer's available, I can get- hey no, wait! Don't walk away!"
Megatron fled for the safety of the barriers, where Skywarp wouldn't be able to get past Prime's security.
A pattern had begun to appear in regards to his former-second: and where there were patterns, there were plots.
Megatron avoided Autobots like they harboured cosmic rust. This was done out of both his willingness to keep the peace, and a healthy sense of self preservation. It was not a tactic shared by Optimus Prime, whose unerring ambition in bringing both factions together like one big happy family would never fade.
"It's not an agenda," Prime was leaning into his office desk, servos clasped together in front of him like a plea. "It's just a party."
Megatron, leaning away from said desk, only felt more sure of his answer. "I'm not going."
"No politics," Prime started counting on his fingers, "No media. No neutrals. It's nothing but a casual get together for old friends-"
"I've tried to kill half the guest list, Prime." Megatron growled, optic twitching at the implication that any of his 'old friends' were still alive. "Your obsession with manipulating me into these situations is getting out of hand."
Prime's infuriatingly blue optics brightened in faux surprise, "I would never manipulate you."
"You asked me here to discuss health legislation."
"Yes, well," Prime waved his servo, "That can wait for another day. Now, are you coming?"
"I would rather be thrown out of a moving train."
"I have invited Starscream." Prime pressed, as if the troublesome seeker's attendance was going to change Megatron's processor. "He accepted."
Megatron grunted.
The Autobot settled back in his seat, "I told him you wouldn't be coming."
"...and?" Megatron tried not to sound too interested.
"Soundwave mentioned you had some sort of... disagreement," Prime explained, and really Megatron had had no idea the leader of their entire planet was such a gossip. Nor Soundwave for that matter. "That he's been avoiding you?"
"I don't speak to that idiot seeker often enough for us to disagree on anything," Megatron growled, deciding to squash the rumour before it spread. Or worse, the media caught wind. "And you'll have to inform him that he won't be spared of my company after all."
"Oh?" Prime was trying hard to sound taken aback at such a sudden change of mind. He was a very bad liar. "So you are coming?"
Megatron pushed his chair away from Prime's desk, feeling the same sense of ominous finality of someone about to throw themselves off a cliff as he said, "My evening just opened up."
Logically, Megatron knew that Prime did not live in a palace, though Optimus's general air of grandiose and regality often lead to the impression. Still comparatively large, Prime's home was quite humble, lacking the open halls and towering pillars Megatron knew most of the previous senates' accommodations wouldn't have been without.
The gathering was smaller than the large governmental events he had grown used to, and Prime had been true to his word. Megatron knew every face there from having spent so many thousands of years shooting at them.
"I thought you weren't coming?"
Megatron turned his helm towards to the source of the voice, and there was Starscream, loitering just beyond the entryway. Like he had been waiting for him to arrive.
"Hoped I wasn't?" He corrected, unable to help himself.
Starscream sneered, "You hate this sort of thing. Did you come here just to spite me?"
"Don't be so arrogant, Starscream," Megatron lied, "Not everything is about you."
The seeker's optic roll was disbelieving. He began moving to turn away, "I'll leave you to your skulking then."
"Yes, I suppose you'll want to get an early start on flaunting yourself about the room."
"I'm sure you'll have fallen asleep in one of Prime's armchairs long before then, you dilapidated husk..."
Megatron felt his temper rise, denta clenched, "Watch your tone, brat-"
"Just like old times, huh?!" Suddenly, Skywarp's grinning face appeared with a signature flash beside them, swinging his arms over their shoulders in a completely inappropriate show of familiarity.
Megatron had jumped at the seeker's appearance. Starscream, obviously more used to it, had not. And that only annoyed Megatron more. He shoved the purple seeker off, levelling Skywarp with the same sort of glare he usually reserved for politicians and paparazzi. "What are you doing here?" He asked, because Skywarp hadn't been on the guest list Prime had supplied.
"I'm a plus one," Skywarp's arm noticeably tightened around his trine leader's shoulder.
Megatron found himself teetering back on his pedes as he struggled to observe them. Together. As a couple. "You're...?"
"Primus no!" Starscream snapped with considerable disgust, shucking Skywarp off. "As if I would ever-!"
Skywarp cupped a servo to his mouth, leaning towards Megatron and pulling a distraught face as he stage whispered, "Screamer's date stood him up."
The knot that had tightened in Megatron's tank loosened considerably at that news. He found himself smiling. Starscream must have taken it for gloating however, because his expression continued to darken.
"Skywarp." He snapped in the clipped cadence of the Air Commander he once was, "Work the room."
"Huh?" Skywarp looked befuddled, and Starscream had to bodily shove him in the direction of the other mingling guests, hissing through his gritted denta for Skywarp to, "Just tell them some jokes, you idiot."
The immediate vicinity now clear of unwanted trine mates, Starscream swung back to Megatron. "I wasn't stood up."
Megatron had no idea why Starscream felt he needed to know that. He struggled to respond in any dignified manner, and had to settle on a passive, "Of course not."
"I cancelled on him." Starscream continued, and his face had actually purpled a little under his optics, like a blush. A trick of the light perhaps. "Prime told me you were coming, and I knew you'd cause a scene." He drew that last word out with a sneer.
"I care little for what reprobate company you keep," Megatron glanced deliberately in Skywarp's direction, where the seeker was waving his arms about as he told what must have been a very animated joke. "And even less so for the unfortunate sparks you drag into your berth."
Starscream inhaled sharply, and experience told Megatron he was about to start shrieking. But Prime's home was a far less appropriate location for a screaming match than the weathered bridge of the Nemesis had been, and Starscream swallowed it down, face an even darker shade of indigo. "Better my berth than your coffin."
He twirled on his heel and strutted off, wings and nose high in the air. The temptation to chase him down and get the last word in dwindled when the seeker slipped in amongst the guests surrounding Elita-One.
No amount of witty comeback was worth Megatron putting himself under her scrutiny. He found a cube, and then a comfortable seat along the edge of the room. An hour or so would be enough to satisfy Prime, and then he could slink off back to the solitary of his own apartment.
Somewhere on the far side of the room Starscream's cackle was loud and obnoxious. Megatron scowled and downed his entire cube in one.
Somewhere between the first and second hour, Prime's dignified evening had descended into a raunchy, overcharged rave. Elita had obviously over ordered the high-grade, assuming (rightly so) that the two factions wouldn't be able to interact in any civilised manner without the influence of some sort of intoxicants.
Megatron, sulking from the sidelines, was only slightly buzzed, and therefore sober enough to appreciate just how hammered his fellow guests were. Prime had lowered his face mask and was sipping high grade through some ridiculous novelty straw, Ironhide was stood on a table and appeared to loudly re-telling some half forgotten tale of battle, and Skywarp had managed to seduce and subsequently sandwich himself between the two Autobot twins.
It was amusing to watch, but when Arcee began to challenge everyone in her vicinity to an arm wrestling contest, and then proceeded to win against the likes of Soundwave and Brawn, Megatron decided put a little distance between himself and the revelry before he too lost his dignity to it.
There was a balcony at the end of the hall, long crimson curtains framing it's archway and providing a sense of privacy for it's occupants. Megatron stepped out onto it, taking a deep breath of the night air, helm tilted back to appreciate the glittering canvas of stars above. The city noises drowned out the party inside just enough for Megatron to forget he was part of it.
He crossed the balcony to lean his weight against the barrier, but was stopped short when he caught a glimpse of red.
"I was here first." Starscream was sat precariously on the edge of the barrier, legs crossed at the knee, wings hung low. His optics were dim and hooded, and his vocaliser heavy with charge. "And I don't feel like sharing."
Megatron leant his hip against the barrier anyway, facing the seeker, arms crossed over his chest. "Having fun?" He asked, only just realising that he hadn't seen much of the seeker at all since he first arrived.
Starscream snorted, swaying slightly over the edge. Megatron's digits twitched at the sight, thinking for a moment the drunken idiot was going to teeter over it. But Starscream rightened himself, throwing his arm out in an angry gesture, "The time of my life!"
He obviously wasn't, and Megatron would really rather not get into a drunken argument with an ex-colleague. Going back inside would feel too much like a retreat though, especially with Starscream staking his claim on the balcony. It would annoy the seeker to stay, and that was reason enough for him.
"You appear to have misplaced your date." He could hear Skywarp's hiccuping laugh from all the way out here.
A cube had appeared in Starscream right servo seemingly out of nowhere. Energon sloshed against the sides as he lifted it to his mouth, "Wouldn't be the first time."
"Don't you think you've had enough?"
"You clearly do," Starscream spat, face twisting, "When did you become such an old prude?"
Megatron was about to say that it only appeared that way because the seeker was acting more and more like a delinquent teenager every time they crossed paths, but the cube Starscream was holding looked like it was poised to be thrown at his helm.
"Here." Deciding to be the better mech, he extended his servo, hoping the seeker would take it before he finally did overbalance and fall off the wrong side of the balcony. Megatron would only be blamed for pushing him.
Starscream stared at the proffered servo, lips tight, before relenting with a roll of his optics. His servo landed in Megatron's. It was clammy with overcharge, but still the smooth delicate hand of a high caste prince. It didn't fit right against Megatron's own. Incompatible in incomprehensible ways.
Megatron frowned at he pulled the seeker to his pedes, digits closing around Starscream's smaller servo, thumb sliding across the smooth armour. He felt Starscream squeezing back, the tiny twitch of tightening digits.
"Fool," Megatron murmured when the seeker wobbled ridiculously, free servo waving about for balance until it caught against Megatron's chest. He watched as the seeker muttered angrily under his breath, adjusting himself so he was leant against Megatron's arm.
Only for balance, of course.
"If you let me fall, I'll kill you." Starscream threatened, helm low. He let Megatron guide him back into the hall, both servos gripping his now.
The party had continued to deteriorate in their brief absence. The once tasteful music had been swapped out for something heavier in bass, and distinctly human-sounding. It came as no surprise for Megatron to see Jazz at the speakers.
"Hey, Star!" Skywarp had managed to extract himself from his admirers and plant himself directly in their path, thwarting Megatron's escape plan. "You wanna dance?"
"He's taken," Megatron growled before really thinking about it. He released the seeker's servo to curl an arm around his waist, tucking Starscream close to his side to better prevent anyone from stealing the seeker out from under him.
Skywarp's optics widened. He backed off without a word, servos open in front of him. A few of the Autobots had noticed them now, helms bent as they murmured too each other, curious. Megatron felt oddly exposed.
Under their scrutiny, Starscream's servo went for the one Megatron had around his waist. Expecting to be shoved off, Megatron loosened his grip. But Starscream adjusted him instead, pushing the servo lower to cup his hip, settling in closer to Megatron, helm high again.
"Walk me out," The seeker demanded. He was all heavy and warm, lacking his usual poise, draped as he was against the former leader. Still, he took it in his stride, wearing Megatron like a socialite did fine Praxian jewellery as he stumbled his way to the door.
"Did you fly here?" Megatron asked when they made it out onto Prime's expansive landing platform. He couldn't see Starscream's ridiculously pimped out transport obediently waiting for him like it did at most functions. Perhaps it had finally summoned the sense to find a better employer than a drunken ex-Decepticon.
"Yes!" somehow offended, Starscream shrugged him off and stumbled a few paces away.
Megatron instinctively reached for him again, envisioning the ridiculous brat falling over the platform railing this time. Why didn't Starscream have the sense to just sit down and wait for the world to stop spinning?
"I'll call a transport," Megatron sighed, lifting his com.
"I'm flying," Starscream argued, like a petulant youngling.
"You'll fly into a window and break your neck," Megatron told him, already sending off a message hailing for pickup. "I'm sure they'll find some way to blame me for that too."
He moved to recollect the seeker, but Starscream quickened his pace to a hurried scamper. There was a muffled 'thoom' of thrusters igniting. The seeker jumped, gained half a second of flight time, before crashing back to the landing platform. Face down. Unmoving.
Megatron languidly strolled over to the prone seeker. Taking the sight in, committing it to his memory banks, before crouching down and slipping his servos under the seeker's limp arms. "Let's go," he sighed, lifting the groaning seeker back to his pedes.
Starscream spent the entire ride back to his apartment lying across the seats in the back of the transport, one arm hanging listlessly off the edge, the other thrown across his optics in typically melodramatic seeker fashion. Megatron stood off to the side and did his best to ignore him.
The transport took them up to the balcony of Starscream's apartment, but when it drifted to a stop, the seeker declined to move.
With a heavy sigh at the battle he knew lay before him, Megatron instructed the transport to wait.
Starscream didn't seem to want to go anywhere unless he was being carried, and Megatron wasn't going to lift a fully grown, military trained seeker bridal style no matter how sorry for himself he was feeling. The result was him awkwardly dragging a swearing Starscream off the transport and into the building.
The apartment was large and open plan. It's high ceiling was painted the same warm colour as the dawn sky, probably to trick the claustrophobic seeker in Starscream's dormant coding into thinking he was outside. The open archways and glass-less windows meant cool night air was breezing in from every direction. It wasn't half as gaudy as Megatron had feared it would be, but still typically opulent of someone raised among high caste nobility.
It was all the more ironic that Starscream was in such an undignified predicament.
"This is disgraceful," Megatron growled at him, somehow finding the generosity to throw the seeker onto a low lying, contemporary-looking couch rather than the floor. "What sort of state is this to get yourself into? In front of Autobots no less."
"Autobots?" Starscream said lazily, having arranged himself into an uncouth sort of sprawl across his couch, thighs and arms spread. "They were in worse 'states'."
Megatron had the distinct feeling he was being made fun of.
There was a energon dispenser on the far side of the room, and being the generous mech he was, Megatron moved to get the seeker a cube of low-grade to save Starscream from at least some of the pain of the next cycle's hangover.
"In my day," Megatron began, returning with the sickly pale cube of low-grade energon, "Drinking high-grade until we lost motor control wasn't considered 'fun'."
Starscream nearly spilled the low-grade down himself as he laughed. "Why?" He cringed as he took a sip, "High grade not exist back then?"
"Drink the low-grade, it'll dilute the charge," he moved around the couch and headed for the archway to the balcony, "And don't call me,"
"Wait," Starscream called, helm popping up over the back of the couch, "You don't wanna stay?"
Megatron blinked, "And continue watching you make such an unparalleled fool of yourself?"
"Thought you would have enjoyed that..." Starscream's expression very slowly curled into a smirk. He ducked behind the couch coyly, so that just his dimmed optics were visible over the backrest, "Wanna watch me some more?"
A sky-blue servo lifted, and an elegant forefinger beckoned him closer.
Something warm brewed in the pit of Megatron's tank, a curious something that might only be reacting with the high-grade he had so neglectfully thrown into his systems. His pedes had carried him across the room almost on their own volition until he was leaning down over the back of the couch, into Starscream's personal space.
Starscream was still sprawled there, laid out, uncharacteristically submissive in both posture and expression. His smirk was gone, lips now parted, optics narrow slits of crimson light. Megatron leant in, and Starscream exhaled, his breath sweet and rich with high grade. He was very overcharged.
Megatron shuttered his optics, and straightened back up again.
"Hey," Starscream frowned, voice oddly soft, "Don't..."
"Sleep it off." Megatron said firmly, onlining his optics to give him a stern look, brushing away the seeker's attempts to reach for him again.
He turned away from Starscream's downtrodden expression and fled for the balcony before whatever witchcraft his former Second was utilising could catch him again.
Prime and his stupid parties.
Megatron had gotten himself out of the habit of checking the data-news ever since he started featuring so prominently in it. He received his current events entirely through Shockwave's daily memos, and it was considerably less infuriating than having to wade through paragraphs of biased journalism to find the real information.
He was dozing -helm only slightly fuzzy from the night before, listening to traffic drifting through the open window- when his com pinged.
He rolled onto his back and opened the message, expecting some last minute change to his schedule, or a political emergency. Starscream's number flashed on the screen, and Megatron was filled with instant horror when an image popped up. It was blurred, cropped, obviously copied off the front page of some disreputable media sight, and depicted himself in the act of hauling Starscream out of the back of the transport.
Megatron stared at it.
After what seemed like a lifetime, another message appeared. Text this time, reading, It's a good look for us both, don't you think?
You're an idiot, Megatron wrote back, and deactivated his com.