Drabble #21: The Ruler and the Killer

By: Ceris Malfoy

Summary: Shameless.

Inspiration: Uh…the movie Magic Mike might have had something to do with this... XD Not to mention the song "The Ruler and the Killer" by Kid Cudi. As usual, not finished.

Continuity: IDW, shortly after Megatron: Origins

Disclaimer: Not mine.

The drums pounded rhythmically and Starscream, overcharged as he was, couldn't help himself. Strong beats had always been a certain fetish of his, and this one had a particularly sinister edge to it that even had he not been completely trashed would have compelled him to dance. Easily he slid through the boisterous Decepticons partying through the last of their high-grade. (And why shouldn't they? Sentinal Prime's head was currently on a spike. And that was only one of the best events of the day!) Once he was in the center of the room, where there was enough room to move as he willed without risking his wings, he began to dance.

Slowly, at first, getting a feel for the beat. His optics shuttered, leaving nothing but the darkness, the beat, and whatever images his inebriated processor would decide to flash at him. He rocked back and forth, slow, as if taunting the beat, canting his hips and rolling the rest of his body smooth and fluid. He paused, head tipped back, arms in the air, wings fluttering, and lips pursed in a knowing smirk.

And then he really started to move.

The drums were giving him a migraine. Megatron snarled wordlessly. He did not demand the music to be turned off – he sincerely doubted that anyone was sober enough to do so – nor did he leave. His burgeoning army deserved this party. They had driven the Autobots out of Kaon, murdered most of the Senate, disposed of the Prime, and successfully raided the Peace-Keepers' energon supplies. It had been a good day indeed.

But that didn't mean that he had to like to music that his mechs favored. He winced at a particularly savage thrum from some god-awful instrument that was probably not meant to be played like that, and turned his helm, immediately catching sight of Starscream, who was moving towards the center of the room with the single-minded determination of the overcharged.

Megatron snorted. Even drunk off his aft, the seeker was still all fluid movements and predatory grace. The seeker paused once he was in the center, helm cocked and optics half-shuttered, listening. Starscream shifted his hips, rocking back and forth on his pedes, rolling his upper body smooth and slow. Megatron got the sudden image in his processor of what Starscream might look like while interfacing, and watched attentively, interested despite himself. He doesn't like Starscream, finds him to be entirely too self-centered for his taste, but he does have to admit that Starscream makes for a very pretty mech, and a very deadly one, considering that it was he that pretty much single-handedly killed the senate.

So he watched. There was a tiny break in the song, a period of almost-blissful silence during which Starscream also paused, hips cocked, hands in the air, optics completely shuttered, surprisingly full lips spread in a knowing smirk that only highlighted his arrogant nature. Then the drums started again, and – oh.

Starscream really started to move then, and Megatron's core temperature skyrocketed. It wasn't the dance in of itself – any half-way decent pleasure-drone could dance better – it was the way he danced. Starscream was by nature a predator; he was a sparked warrior, with a certain ruthless cruelty that put others of his frame-set to shame. To make matters worse (or better, depending), Starscream was very, very intelligent. That intelligence lent him something that his slight build and senor-rich wings would always deny him – strength and power.

And Starscream's dance reflected that. Lethal claws delved and twisted in the air, sometimes caressing an invisible partner, other times mangling invisible opponents. His hips rocked back and forth as his powerful legs adjusted his center of gravity easily and decisively. Every movement was calculated and performed around the beat of the drums, owning it, teasing it, completely and utterly dominating it. Most mechs moved in rhythm with an over-powering beat; Starscream moved in counter to it, through it and over it, sliding through the harsh, sinister noise as easily as if it were the air which was his domain. His dance was not one of lust and seduction – though both could easily be inspired by it in the right sort of mechs – but one that knocked a mech upside the helm and said, 'Look at me. See how deadly I am, how deadly I could be, if I put my mind to it.'

That Starscream was obviously overcharged while he was doing it only made the image he was currently presenting all the more powerful.

Megatron saw, and he wanted.

Someone please take this and do something more with it? This bunny has been chewing at my brain constantly, and I'm pretty sure it wants to be adopted. XD