CHAPTER FIFTEEN
XXX
Jack's eyes peeled open as his alarm rang out, suppressing the urge to groan loudly. Ironically, without Megatron there to provide the white noise he had grown accustomed to, he laid there in dead silence and stared at his ceiling. He tossed and turned, his arm occasionally reaching out without his permission and seeking a warm body that was not there, no secure arm putting a comforting weight over his chest. The idea that he should text the warlord crossed his mind, though he had no clue what to say . . .
I miss you.
The thought had been absurd, yet it held more truth than Jack would ever admit. Despite this, he saw the advantage it gave him. Megatron would not be expecting it to say the least, and he might even see it as endearing. Who knew? A small part of him dared to hope it would call him to Jack's side.
The young man wanted to punch himself in the face when the tyrant's reply had genuinely disappointed him. He was left in his lonesome for the rest of the night, ears straining for the sound of a Groundbridge opening amidst the silence, his skin tingling where there used to be the touch of cool metal.
I'm driving myself insane. I am going crazy over . . . him.
Just as he feared, they were falling into a routine, and he wanted it. It was no longer out of desperation to save his friends and spare his family; Jack really, truly, needed Megatron there to have a semblance of normalcy. It had taken all of two weeks, and he wanted to scream obscenities to whatever twisted deity was watching them.
Worse was the thought which wormed into his head while he was brushing his teeth that morning, the mirror still crooked and his mother having yet to confront him about it. He gazed in his reflection as venomous words coiled around his head, the tongue of a snake flicking into his ear.
What does it matter if I like it?
He was too exhausted from his restless night to combat it, because at this point, what did it matter? The only thing he was ever truly concerned with was things going too far. Being intimate with Megatron in the traditional, human sense was surely out of the question. Yet his answer when Jack had asked the question before had been vague.
His all. What was Amicus' "all"?
Not going there. Not in this house.
The other concern was one out of Jack's control. He did not want Megatron hurting the Autobots, and he had assured this relationship and the war were mutually exclusive. Still, the Autobots had no idea they were meeting in secret, and if Arcee got wind of what was happening - though it sounded like her main suspect was Vince, which was not much better - she would not understand. If Megatron suspected Jack had broken their contract . . .
Would he murder everyone he loved and then just . . . leave? Or would he take Jack, whether he wanted to go or not?
The young man shuddered at the idea.
"Honey, are you okay?" His mother asked as he entered the kitchen, frowning. "You're looking pale."
"I'm not sick," he answered, not caring if he sounded a little grouchy. "Just tired."
She merely nodded, still concerned, finishing her bowl of cereal before disappearing into her end of the house to get ready for work. Jack gazed in the fridge, not hungry for much, eventually settling on a frozen breakfast sandwich. Tossing it into the microwave he waited for it to heat up, sipping on a glass of milk.
He frowned, setting the glass down and looking at the carton's expiration date. It read almost two weeks away, yet he swore it tasted off.
Yet his mother had some with her cereal, and she did not seem off-put by it. Taking another sip, he sighed, deciding to chalk it up to the fact it was almond milk.
Scarfing down his sandwich he packed his bookbag, checking his phone and noting that it was void of any messages. Pushing down the disappointment he felt, he stepped into the garage and was greeted by Arcee.
"You look exhausted," she said, ever the tactful one.
He huffed, putting his helmet on. "Yeah. Didn't sleep well at all last night."
"We're going to find him," she assured her charge, certain she knew exactly what was haunting him. "We are going to find Optimus, and with that Key, we'll get him back. Whichever comes first - getting a Spacebridge, or getting Optimus."
Jack frowned. "Would you hold him prisoner?" He asked. "If you 'saved' Ori- Optimus?"
"If he doesn't come to us on his own volition . . . probably," she said truthfully. "But I think it's what Optimus would want us to do. It would keep him out of Megatron's servos, away from whatever nefarious purposes he has for him."
Like decoding a database that has the locations of weapons of mass destruction, Jack mused to himself, barely keeping his mouth shut when he realized they likely did not know that. After all, it had been Megatron who divulged that information.
It bothered him to some extent that Arcee was okay with the idea of keeping Optimus prisoner. It sounded wrong, yet he could not deny that was the exact thing Megatron was doing - it just fit his profile readily. The Autobots, on the other hand . . .
He gripped her handles, chewing his lip. "I get it," he said out loud. "Even if it doesn't sound right."
"It's war, Jack," she sighed. "Right and wrong . . . sometimes we don't get that luxury."
They pulled up to the school, Jack carefully sliding off of her and putting his helmet under his arm, noting with distaste how Vince watched him whilst leaning up against his own car. As soon as they made eye contact the bully got up, following him into the school and to his locker.
"Listen up, Darby," he hissed. "Just because I know your little secret doesn't make us friends. So don't start thinking you can hang around my crew or smile at me like we know each other."
"Vince," he said, feeling less intimidated by him than he expected, "we've known each other since grade school. I think we're past all of that. But if you don't want to be friends, great. I'm fine with keeping it that way."
"Don't get cocky with me," he snipped.
"I have a headache. I'm not in the mood," Jack snapped back, grabbing his books and slamming his locker closed. "See you in sixth period."
With that retort he slunk away from his locker, having lied about the headache but now certain he would get one. He was crabby, though he should have been pleased, given he had the opportunity to get a full night's rest without a demon breathing down his neck. Instead, he was miserable, which made him more cranky, because he should be happy, dang it.
It was a never-ending cycle, and he was not sure he wanted to even begin unpacking his feelings.
School trudged on as usual, not even the lunch break in which he got to see Miko and Rafael lifting his spirits. The smells of the food made him want to throw up, which was not necessarily new, however he just stared at his bagged lunch with disinterest. He wondered if he was still sick, or if something new was popping up. Dengue had taken a lot out of him, so it was not impossible to assume he was immunocompromised.
By the time school was over he felt ready to crash into bed, practically trudging to Arcee with little enthusiasm.
"I need to go home," he mumbled. "I'm tired."
"Alright . . ." his partner sounded worried. "Are you sick again?"
"Maybe, I don't know."
She started on her way once he had settled in on her saddle, trying for some light humor. "You know, you could just have Vince tag along instead of having him sneak through the back door."
He wanted to blanch. "No, Arcee. For the last time, we are not a thing!"
"Right, right," she said, though she clearly only partially believed him. The majority of their ride became silent, as Jack felt the need to focus so he did not fall asleep. Something was wrong, but he could not quite place it, or at least pinpoint the exact reason he was so . . . done with the day.
His mother was at work, so no one bothered him as he crashed into bed, burying his face in the pillow and closing his eyes. Arcee had Groundbridged back to base to scout, though no doubt if Vince refused to show up at base she would draw her own conclusions.
Dragging the blankets up to his chin he sighed, snuggling deep into the mattress. It did not take long for him to drift off to sleep, not caring about what was to come.
When he woke up again it was to the sound of his mother opening the garage door, her keys jingling together as she hung them up on their hook and placed her purse beside them. He glanced at the time, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Fatigue still clung to him, however this time he could attribute it to his nap.
Standing and stretching, he felt his spine crack with satisfaction.
"Jack?" His mother called, almost on cue.
"I'm home," he assured her, opening the door to his room and offering her a smile.
"I saw your shoes," she still sounded concerned. "No 'bots? Again?"
"I didn't sleep well last night," he admitted. "But I promise I'm not sick. Just . . . tired."
June looked like she hardly believed him, Jack wishing he could just scream into some void. Between her, Arcee, and the rest of the 'bots, his patience with keeping this secret was becoming thinner. Yet he could not tell anyone for multiple reasons: the contract, and the social repercussions which he would certainly incur. Sharing a bed with a Decepticon, with Megatron, would not go over well with anyone. Even Knock Out had some things to say about it, however Jack figured that was due more to the fact that he was human. Had he been a 'bot, of any caliber, the CMO might have cared less.
With these thoughts, it was apparent his nap barely helped.
"So, what's for dinner?" June asked, changing the subject.
He paused, the thought of food once again making his stomach turn. "How about some spaghetti squash? I've been craving vegetables lately."
A lie, but it sounded good.
"I'll get the garlic and olive oil," his mother walked over to the kitchen sink, washing her hands thoroughly before grabbing the aforementioned ingredients. They worked together to make two halves of spaghetti squash, one for each other, though even while it cook Jack found himself starting to dislike the idea of eating it.
You're fine, just eat it. Nothing is wrong with you.
Once the good tastes touched his tongue he felt better, drinking a glass of water and eating until he was full - which was not much, however he was relieved that it was more than what he initially expected. He assumed it was the remnants of his illness, cleaning up before slipping into his room, grabbing his pajamas, and heading straight for the shower.
It was close to night time, however part of him did not try to keep his hopes up. Megatron had said he would return tonight, though such a thing was likely based on whether or not he got any work done. Despite being a literal machine, he was also a machine with a conscious, doing more than just absorbing data and spitting back out solutions or meta-data. He was planning, scheming, coordinating his Decepticons and likely meting out punishments where they were warranted. He had a war to win, after all.
Standing under the stream of warm water, Jack tried to imagine what their little reunion would be like. He was a bit angry at Megatron for the inconvenience he now posed on his subconscious and inner thoughts, yet voicing his anger would be unproductive. Getting in a screaming match would also draw his mother's attention, something neither of them needed.
Would he be relieved to see the dictator? Even if he was not, he could pretend. He could . . .
Do what, kiss him?
He wiped his lips without meaning to, feeling them tingle again at the idea. Two weeks, and he was wrestling with emotions that should not even be there. He was losing his mind.
And yet, to his horror, a part of him no longer cared.
He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. It doesn't matter that I like it. What matters is that I know I like it, this attention, and I keep it in check. Not going too far, not going too fast, and definitely not giving him any sort of advantage.
Jack thought about proposing another date. It would not hurt, and it would make sense - surely Megatron would want to spend extra time with him. Though he would make sure the tyrant did not take them back to South America, and he would need to build a better cover story. "Hanging out with Vince" was not a viable option; if Miko or anyone else in the school got wind of such a rumor, his life would be over.
Deciding he would eventually figure it out, Jack stepped out of the shower, drying off and changing into his pajamas. He eyed the Key, tucking it back into his jeans before finishing his evening routine and making his way to his room.
When he opened the door he immediately tossed his clothes in the floor, gently releasing and locking the knob. Turning back, blue eyes met red optics, a small pause passing between them. Jack looked the dictator up and down briefly, noting his sitting position, the thought which passed through his head making him mentally revolt. Despite his initial reaction, logic and reasoning told him it was what he should do to further convince the titan this was what he needed. Megatron would be expecting Jack to re-establish distance between them; even if he half-bought the I miss you from last night, there was still room for doubt. The last thing he would expect would be any sort of intimacy.
Crossing the floor he headed straight towards the tyrant, Megatron's optics subtly widening in surprise as he watched the human approach with a semblance of confidence. His frame noticeably stiffened as Jack continued his direct path, his keen receptors able to anticipate that Jack was not stopping any time soon, likely planning to physically touch him. Despite it leaving him open to a possible attack he remained completely still, stiffening even more whilst Jack slid into his lap and carefully wrapped his arms around spiked shoulders, hugging him.
"You scared me," Jack whispered to the metallic being, hating how, despite not enjoying this compromising position, he found that he did not care; and he hated the way his skin tingled beneath the sweater as servos pressed against his back.
"Though you were ill-prepared, it was merely a stasis-lock," Megatron assured him, lips brushing against the cusp of his ear. "I would have survived for many weeks, however it was a most . . . inconvenient state to be in."
Jack rested his forehead against his shoulder, suppressing a shudder as digits worked their way into his hair. He could not help a small puff of air as pleasant tingles worked their way down his spine, Megatron chuckling softly, deeply.
"I am curious to know how you managed to keep me a secret from your maternal unit," the musing could have been easily mistaken as innocent, however Jack assumed he knew Megatron better than the average person.
He did not dare move, be it to pull away, or - heaven forbid - press closer. "I stuffed you in the closet," he said honestly. "You weren't as heavy as I expected."
The rumble which resulted made his heart stop briefly, afraid he had offended the mech to some degree. Instead he realized Megatron was laughing, keeping his voice quiet even as he found great amusement.
"Ironic, given the connotations."
That one took Jack a long second to understand, huffing in annoyance as he pulled away, giving the dictator a well-deserved stink-eye.
"It's a walk-in," he argued. "And my mom doesn't go in there, ever. Not since I started doing my own laundry. You're safest there."
Megatron gazed at him in faint amusement, the darkness shrouding his helm making his optics appear brighter. His digits continued to toy with his hair, Jack feeling his fingers subconsciously tighten on his shoulders as pleasant shivers continued creeping across his back. He watched as the vermilion gaze slid down to his lips, feeling the tension build between them.
No. Not so soon into this.
The abrupt thought pulled him back to reality, sanity, and he moved forward, hugging Megatron again, arms tightening subtly over his shoulders.
Jack closed his eyes, making it very clear through his body language that this was just what he wanted. Part of him found satisfaction in the idea of making Megatron wait, but it was still a dangerous bargain. If the tyrant got too impatient . . .
If he really wants to make this work, he'll wait.
The servo in his hair increased its grip, the servo on his back becoming a whole arm, pressing him against the metallic frame of the enemy he so desperately wanted to keep at bay.
"Rest assured, I am fine," the cool breeze against his ear only increased the chills, though this time it was not delightful. "I will never allow us to part so easily."
"Not sure if you mean that literally, or figuratively," Jack grunted, taking all his willpower to just drape against the warlord, and not try to roll off and away from him.
It's nice, and you know it. Relax. Relax.
He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something other than the intense tingling against his skin. His ears honed in on the cyclic breathing of the tyrant, the familiar sound calming his beating heart, which began to pound in tandem with the pulses coming from the powerful chest against him.
He sighed, not wanting the silence to delve into something awkward, electing to speak. "I really did miss you . . ."
"I am aware," cool metal pressed against the skin of his neck, Jack realizing the tyrant was nuzzling him, lip plates scraping along his carotid. "A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one."
The human felt slightly offended. "I'm trying to make this work, Megatron. Truly."
The pressure at his neck increased, sharp denta threatening to break delicate skin. "And what have you to gain from it?"
It sounded cheesy, however Jack had no idea what else to say. "You."
There was a pause as an amused rumble overtook the metallic frame briefly. "Had I not known better, I would mistake you for a romantic, Jackson Darby."
"I'm trying," he insisted, his breath hitching when the pressure increased even more at the apex of where his shoulder and neck sloped into one, and he realized what it was.
Kisses.
Scarred lip plates lightly pressed against him, though occasionally they parted so sharp denta could tease his fragile skin.
"Don't you dare leave any marks on me," he hissed. "I have a hard enough time-"
He should have known, he should have realized what was happening the moment Megatron had taken the liberty to take a servo out of his hair and tug at the edge of his sweatshirt, sinking his denta into soft flesh.
Had he not been partially expecting it Jack would have shrieked, instead his body seizing and not daring to move too much, allowing the tyrant to finish the job.
"What the frag is wrong with you?!" He snarled under his breath, hand immediately covering the area as it began to dot blood.
"You gave me a command," Megatron said simply, in his infuriatingly condescending tone, "you do not give me orders."
"And you should have the decency to know that I wear this sweatshirt for a reason!" Pulling away Jack stood up, trying to get a good look at the bite but needing a mirror. He walked over to the one on his closet door, angling his body so he could get a good look in the dim light. It was not as bad as he expected it to be, but it was bleeding, and it definitely was going to bruise. "If Arcee sees this, she's going to kill me."
"Only if she knows from whom it came from," Megatron reminded him, misunderstanding.
Jack shook his head. "No, she'll think Vince gave it to me."
"Vince?" Chills raced down his spine, and not the good kind, the young man realizing he had screwed up immensely. "The human Knock Out is allegedly pursuing?"
He could see the red optics narrow in the mirror, all of the color draining from his cheeks.
"Yeah," Jack swallowed, not sure what else to say. Lying was definitely out of the question. "He's the one."
"And why would she suspect he is the one who did this to you?" Megatron stood, Jack not needed to feel his EM field to understand he was getting increasingly infuriated.
"Because Knock Out called me his boyfriend!" Jack tried not to raise his voice too loudly, quickly trying to explain himself and put the blame on someone other than himself or Vince. "He thinks Vince is Bumblebee's human friend and I'm somehow . . . that. But I swear, Megatron, it's not like that, at all! He-"
Well, he could not say the senior bullied him, because if Megatron decided to get protective . . .
"We barely know each other. We're just classmates, and we street-raced once," he said, resisting the urge to back up as the Decepticon loomed above him. "But ever since that incident Arcee has been getting suspicious, and to top it all off our vacation to Venezuela didn't exactly go as smoothly as I anticipated, so she's already on my case. She doesn't know about us, but we have to be more careful, or she'll figure out something isn't right."
Megatron listened to him as he continued to try and explain, while also ramble, his gaze never softening from the hard glare. Jack was almost ready to crack, to beg him to forget about it and apologize for getting angry. He despised the idea for apologizing even though he did nothing wrong, but the last thing he needed was for the mech to decide to hunt down an innocent bystander - even if it was Vince.
"I suppose I should have made this clear," he said, his voice cold, a steel knife hiding behind each syllable, "you are mine, and mine alone. No one else will take you from me."
"I know, and I'm keeping my end of the deal," Jack insisted. "This is all just a big misunderstanding; Arcee will get off my back eventually."
His heart was pounding in his throat, realizing this was the first true fight he ever had with the warlord. It was barely an argument, nothing more than him trying to desperately untangle some knots. Still, it terrified him.
He did not want to know what a real disagreement would look like.
"Truly?" Megatron challenged, and Jack wished he would just drop dead right then and there. "Prove to me, Jackson, that you are keeping your end of the deal."
How?
"Right now?" He asked, his voice coming out barely a squeak.
Megatron gave him a look. Yes.
Trying to calm his increasingly quickening breath Jack looked back in the mirror, at the love bite which would take weeks to heal. His mind raced, fumbling for an idea on how to be convincing without crossing his own boundaries. Words tumbled past him, and he could not reasonably say anything that did not sound like an excuse.
His lips tingled again, but he could not bring himself to do it. Not yet. Just the idea made his gag reflex close off his throat.
Still, something had to be done.
Biting his lip, an idea came to him, yet he did not know if it would be enough. It was worth a try, he decided, turning back to Megatron after gently rubbing the bite mark. It ached underneath his fingers.
"Tell me how Amicus did this," he said, trying to relax his tense vocal cords and not squeak out every word like a pathetic mouse. "How did you . . . make this work? We are not the same person, but I think it would help if I took some notes."
Megatron tilted his helm, optics brightening just a touch as he found the inquiry satisfactory. He flashed Jack a grin, fanged denta only reminding the human of why he had to fumble for such a question in the first place.
"He approached the subject the same way he did anything else," the warlord answered, "without any concern except for what the answer would be."
XXX
Hey guys! I just wanted to do a quick little authors note here at the end to apologize for not uploading as frequently. I'm still trying to do so at least twice a month, but IRL things have gotten quite busy. I'm doing my best to write when I can and do a good job so the story stays consistent and up to my standards. Thank you so much for being patient with me as I continue through these busy times.
Additionally, I am posting this part using the app. I apologize if the formatting seems weird, this is a test to see if the app works okay and if I can upload parts in the future. If not, it may be a while before I can go back to posting using the computer. Thank you, and I hope you all enjoyed!
