Dreams

Optronix wandered into the training room, although he didn't expect Megatron for some time yet. They didn't exactly had a schedule and the Iaconian sometimes thought that the warlord wanted to stay with him all the time and only left him alone because he knew that it would be uncomfortable to both of them. He walked over the big room, his digits lightly touching the instruments of war displayed along the walls, sliding along dangerously gleaming, razor-sharp edges and bumping over inlaid gems on various hilts.

It fascinated Optronix, this utter preoccupation of the whole society with war and fighting. Kaon seemed to be the embodiment of a warrior spirit and Megatron the very spark of that particular mindset. True, he has seen very little of the whole city-state but he didn't think that what he's seen so far was just a show-case set for him alone; it wouldn't make any sense to try and impress a lone Iaconian locked up in the palace anyway. Jazz confirmed it to him too at their last conversation, saying that Kaonites were exactly like that; warlike, rough and disdaining any softer pastimes, their lives revolving around war and glory.

It was… or it should have been very foreign to Optronix, who was raised to be a mate for one of the more civilized kingdoms, like Polyhex or Praxus, only fate deciding suddenly that he should be a game piece in the previously closed off and secretive kingdom of Kaon. It was a shock back then and it continued to be so even at this orn, even after he was hopefully past the hardest part. The hard glint of the weapons blinked back at him, their glares a bit disdaining, like the way Kaonites inevitably watched him, the soft-spoken, soft-mannered, soft in the spark Iaconian. They would do the same, Optronix knew if he was to walk out and around in the palace grounds, much more so in the streets of Kaon.

But he was yearning to walk those streets, to observe the Kaonites – his fellow mechs now - in their natural surroundings, how they lived, how they worked, how they… loved. He did the same in Iacon, against the direct orders of his creator and the guards set to keep him in the palace. He always had to see matters for real, as he was never satisfied with learning them second-servo, through others' viewpoints, prejudices, misconceptions. He wanted to see these warriors from up close, not only in a training room or a battlefield, but when they were whetting their weapons in their homes, teaching their creations the notions of honour and war…

"You seem pensive, Optronix."

The deep bass voice surprised him badly and Optronix whirled to face Megatron who was approaching him from behind. He tensed up as he found the warlord way too close and it only marginally calmed him down that he's backed off quickly after seeing his reaction.

"I was wondering about Kaon and its mechs." – he answered at last, settling at the topic that was hopefully safe – "I'd love to see them… I understand that I can't but I wish it to come true still."

Megatron actually looked frustrated… no, it was helpless almost at that.

"Optronix… You can't. Not yet. I promised it to you, and it will happen… but later."

Optronix nodded sadly, but swallowed back the disappointment, arranging his features to a neutral expression. He moved closer, not quite to touching distance but close enough to signal his acceptance.

"I understand… I may not like it, but I get the reasoning."

"Until that time, I can tell you everything you wish to hear about. I'm sure you have plenty of questions… you seem to be eager to understand us, even if you can't accept our way of life."

"But I'd like to! I mean become a warrior like you… it is not against my natural instincts. True, I'd like to understand how Kaon works, but it isn't just a mental exercise… Kaon is my home now."

Pride filled Megatron hearing that utterance, delivered in a serious tone. Dreadnought should have heard it, he thought, maybe it would lighten his enmity a bit.

"Come then, Optronix… I have a little surprise for you too."

The young mech looked up at him interested and Megatron couldn't help but be glad that he trusted him enough not to be afraid of a surprise. It surely was a step forward!

In the sitting room doorway, he gestured Optronix forward and the smaller mech noticed the change immediately. His rooms were at this time by no means bare, but there were still plenty of free spaces – and one of them, a sizable one by one wall was now occupied by a miniature crystal garden.

"Ohhh…" – Optronix couldn't help but sigh happily. It was small off course, but the crystalline growths in it so perfect, so graceful that he thought that he's never seen more beautiful. Iacon had several such gardens but it was an entirely different sight and feel to walk among and often under the huge crystals – or observe them in front of him, like a miniature cityscape. And they were some of the rarest crystals on the planet, Optronix saw after the first, awed glance. Some of them, he couldn't even recognize.

"It's amazing…"

"I'm glad that you like it. Later, you can see the palace gardens but until that time… I wished to show how much I value you… how much I' love… no… I mean I want to court you and win you again!"

Well slag. That came out incredibly lame, no matter how much he practiced beforehand. Megatron felt like an utter fool and such feelings made him inevitably angry. Pushing back the rising anger, glanced at the wide-opticked young mech, sighed and tried to save the situation.

"I'm not really good at this courting thing…"

"My Lord… Megatron…" – Optronix, despite of everything wanted to laugh, knowing that it would definitely be a bad idea – "I thank you… and… If I have understood you correctly, then… you mean we should start again?"

The young mech cautiously nudged the bond, trying to get the feel of the warlord. What came through was a mixture of embarrassment, suppressed anger and an underlying frustration. He tried to answer, pushing through his acceptance and encouragement, but he wasn't sure whether Megatron actually felt it. The connection was still barely more than a trickle.

"Something like that… it was Soundwave's idea!"

"I like this idea, actually." – and why would he not? It gave him a field where Megatron wasn't unreachably ahead of him, like in training or fighting, experience and whatnot. It gave him a slight satisfaction to see Megatron uncomfortable and flustered, now that he knew that neither was going to be turned against him. He felt a little ashamed for the gloating, but then, he was entitled for a little of it after all he'd gone through n the mech's servos.

"I'll endeavour then to satisfy your wish." – he wasn't growling. But it was a near thing.

"Of course, I'd be happy to see the Kaonite way of courting." – Optronix was still careful not to push too far. It was a good idea, because Megatron visibly perked up a bit and flashed that little, predatory smile that made something flutter in Optronix's tank and his field shuddered.

"Gladly. Sparring is one, I'm sure you know it by now."

"I guessed as much." – Optronix answered with a playful smile. – "It is the kind of courting I came to enjoy."

"That's good because it's the only type I'm comfortable with."

Megatron uttered the sentence without meaning to, thinking that he only said it within his processor… but the glittering laugh that bubbled out of Optronix's vocalizer made him realize that he has actually spoken it aloud. – Uhhh…"

"No, please…! It's fine, really!" – Optronix tried to get his mirth under control, seeing as Megatron wavered between mortally embarrassed and seething angry – "I mean I'm pleased by any effort you make… truly! Like this crystal garden… it is so beautiful and amazing!"

"We have fewer courting gifts compared to your former home… weapons and crystals are the acceptable ones. It wouldn't be proper to give baubles or sweets, because that degrades the courted mech and we don't wear clothing like some kingdoms do."

"Ohhh… I see. We don't wear such either, although a few young mechs have tried to make it fashionable a few vorns ago, if I remember well. But I think they look silly."

"Definitely. Cloth or mesh fabric over armour? I never saw the point of it and they tear ridiculously easily."

Optronix laughed again, agreeing and Megatron was relived that they steered away from the embarrassing topics. He didn't take this hurdle well, but Optronix didn't seem to mind much – and he definitely loved the crystal garden. Megatron cautiously shifted closer to the red and blue mech under the pretense of pointing out a particularly rare formation, a deep purplish stone that came from offworld, but gained popularity in Kaon quickly, due to its particular shade. Optronix listened eagerly to its story, but Megatron noticed that his field started to fluctuate the more he stayed close and the bond conveyed unease too.

It seemed that Optronix was still afraid of him from up close, no matter their improving relationship otherwise. He was warned to it by Soundwave and the warlord drew away as unobtrusively as he got closer. Offering a cube of high-grade was a good pretense and as he put a mechanometer between them, Optronix's good mood became natural, honest again, the uneasiness dissipating from the bond.

They talked long over the small crystal garden, comparing growths from different places they knew and visited – and Optronix seemed to feel a bit sad that so many of those he'd not see ever. Due to his youth, the smaller mech has been taken for a visit only to a few city-states yet and very much hoped for more later – but the arranged bond crossed through those plans too, firmly imprisoning… getting him stuck in Kaon.

"Later, Optronix. Later. I can't suddenly change the way things are done in Kaon, but I do what I can. I promised."

"Yes… yes, I know. Thank you."

"I think I took over your time enough for this orn… I'll leave now. Have a good night cycle!"

"Thank you… Megatron."

The smile was small and a bit sad… but it was there and that encouraged Megatron. He was making headway and slow as it was, it was still progress. Now… if only he could bypass it all and jump forward in time to where he was having a loving mate and heirs… too bad that things didn't work that way. But then Megatron was familiar with making a long, patient effort to achieve a goal in a war. He should be able to do the same in his mate's rooms too. Glancing back to Optronix sitting down on his berth, he sighed and left the room. To join him there again… would be far-far too long in the future.

-o-o-o-

Optronix sank into the kiss breathless, loosing himself in the deep, sensual licks of the hot glossa on his lips, stroking inward, sharp denta nibbling on his lipplates that shuddered under the pleasant assault. He moaned, or thought that he moaned deeply in the strong arms encircling him, nearly suffocating in their protective, almost possessive embrace. He felt hot inwardly, a core-deep charge rising in his systems and his vents opened fully to expel the hot air – only it was hot on the outside too, the huge frame surrounding him in a way that was nearly impossible, strong arms encircling his frame, gentle but strong servos sliding on plates, dipping into seams, plucking sensitive wires, raising his temperature ever higher…

A servo rubbed gently but insistently on his scorching hot panel behind which lubricant was collecting in slick, hot drops, oozing out through the seams, onto the plating, where the oh-so-knowledgeable servos played with them by smearing the purple droplets onto themselves. The lubricant-soaked digits delved into the panel's seam, and Optronix was unable to keep it closed any more, even if he'd wanted to. Which he didn't. The young mech bowed off the large berth, the frame above him lifting along with his movement, never for a nanoklik stopping its maddening tease, its roaming on his tingling plating.

The bared valve was touched by a single digit gently, like a priest would touch a sacred relic of Primus and Optronix moaned again, the wordless, mindless sound only half muffled by the talented glossa that occupied his mouth, writhing under the sensations. The silver digit dipped slightly, the slick purple of the lubricant just connecting its gleaming metallic skin to the trembling platelets at his entrance. Time stopped for an eternally long nanoklik before it gently parted the silvery platelets and dipped in shallowly, smearing the lubricant around carefully.

The glossa in his mouth trembled in its enforced holding back, the big mech nearly shaking with the effort for not to be rough, not to be forceful or too fast. Optronix sucked desperately on the glossa, his moans continuous, his frame trying to push into the servo that held just on the edge of giving him pleasure. His own servos clamped onto the vast back plates, drawing the hesitant frame closer, encouraging him, reassuring him of his willingness and the approval of the other's care.

The digit pushed in deeper, pausing and withdrawing slightly every now and then. The thumb played with the anterior node, the big mech swallowing the pleasured little moans and whimpers that his touch caused. There was no fear in the smaller mech's field, no terror or rejection and the bond stayed open, honest and conveying the same; pleasure, wanting and accepting. Megatron added another digit, slowly, patiently stretching the tight little valve before he could enter it. His kiss was neverending, deep and sensual in a way Optronix never imagined the warlord to be, not even in his wildest hopes at the very beginning, before the cold and brutal awakening to the realities.

Optronix lost the thread of thought in that kiss, in the slow, incredibly hot feel of the digits moving around in his valve. He literally never felt anything like this and his occasional, long gone wet dreams too fell far short of the real sensations. His valve was lubricating copiously now with the stimulus, the walls thoroughly soaked and stretching nicely, anticipating, by this time even eagerly awaiting for his bigger mate's spike to take the place of the digits and fill him up with mind-boggling pleasure. The digits slid out the last time, the thumb pressing playfully on the anterior node in a farewell, promising even better things to come.

Optronix relaxed his inner cables, spreading his legs a bit further in invitation. The large frame above him lifted slightly, a breath of colder air between their scorching hot plating making them shiver slightly in cold and in anticipation. Pleasure-hazed optics cleared up and smoldering red connected with aquamarine as he felt the hot, engorged spike slowly push in, stretching the soaked, flexible walls to their limit. Instead of pain, the sensors registered pleasure only as the walls fulfilled their function and admitted the intruder without the burn, the tears, the pain and the last vestiges of the hidden fear melted away completely. The slow, inexorable but gentle slide inwards fired the sensors up one by one with indescribable pleasure.

Optronix keened low and the frame above him stilled, the oh-so-pleasurable stretch stopped and the field against his own flared up with worry. He collected his processor enough to push through the bond a single thought - don't you dare to stop now! – and bowed upwards, pushing his hips towards the delicious intruder, the welcome enemy, the spike that was making him feel so good. A wry, nearly humorous thread of emotion came back without words and he felt the spike push in fully, knocking on his ceiling node.

Optronix shattered with a scream that noone could take for painful. If not for the encircling arms, he would have fallen back onto the berth padding, spent and sated – but it wasn't over yet. Fully seated his spike, the warlord paused, riding out his mate's overload, watching his reaction with a nearly awed wonder. His servos caressed the hot plating, dancing in seams, raising his charge again, giving him what should have always been given; care and pleasure, reverberating in their bond, giving him a taste of the young and innocent lust, feeding his own.

His own charge was secondary now, but the tight little valve undulating around him in climax very nearly pushed Megatron too into an overload. But he could control himself more than that. As soon as Optronix was regaining some control of his faculties he started to move, slide out and thrust back, gently at first, then emboldened by the enthusiastic reaction faster, stronger, more forcefully – but always, always mindful not to hurt his smaller mate. Had he botched this up in the slightest, Megatron thought, he'd never get another chance.

But it didn't feel like Optronix was in any sort of pain or discomfort. The small mech was moaning deeply into his mouth, sucking and licking his glossa mindlessly, his valve tightening again around him, the delicious friction making them both hiss in the added sensation. Their charge growing, Megatron's thrusts sped up and he was nearly pushing the smaller frame upwards on the berth with his strength, if not for the clamping arms around him that nearly fused Optronix to his plating.

"Ohhhh… y-yessss…. Megat…thron…" the younger mech chanted, panting with the thrusts and moaning when he pulled out. – "M-more… yessss… harderrrr…"

Megatron complied. There was no need for caution by this time, no chance of him to harm Optronix in any way or form. He growled low, his charge rising inexorably, threatening to overwhelm him, weakening his arms that held him up above the smaller mech, moaning and keening in pleasure. His hips snapped forward once… twice… and the third, forceful thrust broke the barrier for both of them. A higher and a deeper yell entwined in the silence of the room, signalling their release and the rush of transfluid jetting in the welcoming valve. They sank onto the berth together, processors hazed with pleasure, the barest threads of rational thought keeping the warlord from squashing the deeply offline Optronix.

-o-o-o-

Optronix's optic shutters snapped open. He was panting heavily still, his frame blazing hot, condensation dripping from underneath some plates, vents roaring to cool down his squirming, tingly and sated frame. His panel felt like a furnace where some mech left the fire burning well after the duty shift of the smelter ended but the burn wasn't painful this time. His plating tingled as it cooled slowly and with the memories of the tracks that talented digits drew on them. His glossa sneaked out, wetting dry lipplates that felt like gnawed on and kissed into the next orn.

But no mech was around, he had no company in the berth or in the room either. No transfluid dripped from his valve only the lubricant smeared and dried slowly on his hot thighs. Optronix was completely befuddled for a full breem before reality started to make sense and unease made his plating tremble and shake a little. Apparently his subconscious wasn't as much afraid of Megatron as his processor, if it presented him with dreams like this latest one.

The young mech admitted in the privacy of his helm that he did indeed long for his mate – even as he was dreading him to come too close, to hold him down, to hurt him again… it wasn't easy to face either the fear or the desire. They confused him. Optronix curled up on the berth, dispelling the charge of the dream, cooling his pleasure-heated frame with calmer thoughts. Yes, he used to find Megatron appealing, exciting, powerful and above all exotic. He'd been looking forward to feel what the larger mech could give him in the bond – and in the berth.

But brutal reality cooled down his dreams completely, deleted the tiny saplings of his awakening desires and infused him with a strut-deep fear of interfacing. Or so he thought consciously. But the dreams cared not a whit of his fears, his learned reflexes and the manifestations of his hurts. Apparently they still found Megatron desirable – and capable of giving him true pleasure. A tentative blue servo lifted off the berth, to dip into his own lubricant. It was real, not a dream. It proved that his frame was believing his subconscious.

Optronix wanted to feel true pleasure. He was hurt too much, he's suffered so badly, that in reality, it should have eradicated all dreams or wishes of interfacing ever be pleasurable again. But against all odds, despite of every reason not to – he still yearned to experience… love and its manifestations on his frame. With Megatron seemingly changed and making a real-looking effort, these yearnings blazed into life again, making him experience increasingly hot dreams. Soon, Optronix knew they'd manifest in their real interactions too.

He wasn't sure of that yet.

He got up and escaped to the washracks before Avara would come and see the telltale signs of his arousal. Under the pattering hot solvent, he rubbed down the dried lubricant from his plating, thinking furiously. Megatron would notice something soon – if he hadn't yet. Optronix didn't fool himself into believing that he wasn't observed in his rooms and even if that surveillance didn't include the berthroom, he'd betray himself somehow soon. Probably during their training, he thought wryly, with a slight smile on his lipplates - the way they touched there under the pretense of grappling was sometimes hotter than any berth-play he imagined.

It was nearly a breem before the young mech realized that his servos turned from rubbing industriously to petting himself sensually, unconsciously following the pattern of Megatron's servos on his plating in the dream. Frustrated, the young mech growled, the sound quite unlike him, but signifying his conflicting thoughts well; and grabbed a brush to attack his traitorous armor with.

The servant came in soon after that to help him finish cleaning up, followed by a cable massage and a careful polish from helm to pedes. Optronix luxuriated in the pleasant feelings, carefully suppressing any urges to perceive it as more… sensuous. He wasn't untouched any more to fantasize about interface and imagine a lover's touch in the servant's professional massage. Nope. No way. What he wanted was not Avara's light touch, but a much bigger servo… slag. There he was again. Optronix flinched slightly and the smaller mech worriedly asked if he was all right, he hasn't hurt him inadvertently…

"N-no, everything is fine, Avara." – he stammered a little but hoped that it wasn't suspicious – "I just… I had an unsettling dream."

Unsettling, my aft… Optronix flushed pink and was glad that he lay facedown so hopefully it wasn't noticeable. He was a bad liar because he hated lying to anyone and Jazz has always told him not to bother with it, because he'd always be caught. Calling a hot interfacing dream with Megaton unsettling wasn't exactly a lie, he reasoned within his meta, because it did trouble him afterwards. Mainly because he wanted it to be real… but he was afraid of it at the same time.

"Recharge fluxes sometimes do that." – Avara's knowing voice caused him to blush again – "But they can also be enjoyed for what they are: just dreams."

Optronix lifted an orbital ridge at the answer that showed that either Avara was telepathic – which was highly unlikely – or he'd accidentally answered exactly what he wanted to hear. He did enjoy the dream, the lack of fear, the unashamed enjoyment that care and love caused in him. The young mech also knew that in reality he wouldn't be able to react so openly and trusting. Not yet.

And he hoped that it wasn't not ever.


Note: I think it might come across as a bit strange that Optronix dreams such an obviously wet dream with Megatron. I want to stress that it is his subconscious, that he is a young mech eager to have pleasure, indeed just pleasurable touches... and he can't imagine any other mech for that, as he doesn't know any other mechs whom he would desire in that way. So his dreams and his awake thughts on the matter are drastically different, conflicting.

Note2: I'm sorry for the long breaks between updates. I'm afraid I can't make myself write when inspiration doesn't come and since it is just a hobby for me, I don't even want to force it. I don't intentionally abandon the fics I'm writing so sooner or later they all get continued.