CHAPTER TWENTY

XXX

The rest of his time at the base was uneventful, though Jack did not miss the sour looks Miko sent his way on occasion, or the optic-ridge cock when Arcee came back from scouting to see he and Vince appeared to be getting along just fine. He did not elect to give her an explanation as he bid her goodbye and was Groundbridged home by Ratchet.

Now, he stood before his calendar, looking at the small dots which he placed inconspicuously on the numbers to mark every night with Megatron. Today marked twelve days until the month was done - an agonizing week and a half away.

Only a month and everything is teetering. I'm falling apart before it's even over with.

This was a mistake, and he knew it. But at this point . . . he barely cared. He still told himself this was for his friends, and it was partially true. Yet every time those lips touched his skin, he was not thinking about his friends - in fact, he was not thinking at all.

Jack tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, despising the way he thought of the tyrant. How he almost humanized him, not acknowledging the atrocities he had wrought on his own homeworld . . . and what he planned to do with Earth.

He knew Megatron would not stop until both planets were his to claim; Optimus had made it very clear that was the end goal when the Decepticon warlord joined forces with the Autobots. He wanted to end the threat of Unicron only so he could conquer Earth later. Jack could not morally allow that to slide by, as if it did not matter. His home was at stake.

And yet with every night his resolve weakened. Because with the warlord he felt things he had never felt before.

Closing his eyes he cringed as the guilt within him settled in his stomach like a rock. It too was ever-present, reminding him that this was wrong. Everything about it went against his nature, what he stood for. And yet he also felt as if it was only him who could do this task.

Taking several breaths, he disappeared into the bathroom to change and perform his evening routine, the last rays of sun gone by the time he finished.

Opening his door he already anticipated the routine, Megatron waiting for him with as much patience as he could muster. Jack let him simmer for a moment, setting his clothes on his desk chair before making his way to the tyrant, the motions almost automatic at this point.

"You are quiet," Megatron tilted his helm as Jack approached.

"It's been a long day," he sighed, making to return to his lap when he froze, just a bit. Would he tell Megatron about Vince?

Of course, his hesitation did not go unnoticed by the warlord. Even after Jack thought he had recovered well enough to pretend he was just readjusting, the tightness of the servos on his waist told a different story.

Red optics held his gaze. "Tell me what it is. Now."

Scrap.

Jack shuddered under the intense stare, head reeling as he tried to word it in such a way to prevent Megatron from jumping to conclusions. His silence only prompted the talons to dig deeper into him, bordering from uncomfortable to painful pressure.

"I-it's complicated," he said, cursing himself for the stutter before the words spilled out. "A-Arcee thinks I'm running around with Vince, but he thinks I've been seeing Knock Out, and he threatened to tell the Autobots. I made a deal with him, and he would keep the act up so none of the Autobots figure it out either."

Megatron listened, mercifully, however his displeased expression was telling enough.

"You let this Vince coerce you into bribing him?" He asked, voice low.

Jack supposed there could be other things he got mad about. "What else am I supposed to do? If he told any of the Autobots, they'd freak. Arcee would keep me at the base, and I wouldn't be able to keep up my end of our deal." Megatron opened his mouth, and Jack somehow found the audacity to put a finger to his lip plates. "And before you suggest it, no, I'm not killing him. I couldn't kill him."

The expression of surprise on Megatron's face was truly one to treasure, one of his servos coming up and gripping his wrist. "Do not silence me again, Jackson."

"And don't suggest I murder people," he shot back.

Scarred faceplates twisted into an amused smile. "I never suggested such a thing."

"You were going to," Jack huffed.

Megatron's anger appeared to slowly simmer down, because his chest rumbled with a chuckle. "You know me all too well. However."

Great.

"This act you are referring to - what does it entail?" There was a dangerous growl with the question, a snake ready to strike in the tall grass.

Jack almost laughed aloud when he realized what it was - jealousy. Megatron was jealous.

"Believe me, if Arcee would get off my back about it, I wouldn't be doing it," he grumbled, hoping the tyrant could sense he was telling the truth, "but Vince agreed to not be at base when I'm not, maybe occasionally drop a few hints that we see each other outside of school. Nothing . . . weird. Just enough to keep Arcee off of the actual scent."

The grip on his hip remained tight and steadfast. "And how am I to know this is not some elaborate excuse for you to pursue another?"

For the love of Allspark.

"I like to think I'm not dumb enough to do that," Jack responded, unable to help the sass. He moved his wrist out of Megatron's grasp, settling his freed hand on the tyrant's shoulder. "I'm doing this so we can continue seeing each other. So Arcee doesn't tear the house apart and try to kill you. I . . ."

I belong to only you.

He stopped, feeling his throat constrict. Something coiled within him, a whisper that if he did this, if he said it, there would be no taking it back. There would be no going back. Such simple words, and yet their utterance would set off something he was unsure he was ready for. They would chain him to the tyrant - even if at the end of their agreed time he insisted they part ways, Megatron would never let him go.

The Decepticon tilted his helm, waiting for his answer. His optics roved across Jack's face, reading his expression and attempting to read his thoughts.

Words failed him again, and he searched frantically for something else. Anything else. Steeling his nerves, he knew there was one thing he could do when nothing else would help him.

Taking a breath his hands cupped both sides of the tyrant's helm and he kissed him; and though Jack would not count this as the first time he initiated such an action, it was the first Megatron had likely not suspected. If anything, he was probably anticipating that it would be him who coaxed the human into more intimate affection such as this.

Jack was so busy trying to focus that he almost missed the surprised ventilation against his lips, one which in turn nearly startled him. He never thought he could rattle the Decepticon leader - however, he supposed he had not considered taking this route to do it.

With unrivaled eagerness Megatron returned the gesture, a servo once again gripping Jack's thigh as the other wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. His arms moved, encircling the thick neck beneath the helm, feeling as if this was the closest he had ever been to the frame - in this position, anyways.

Before things could become too intense he forced himself to pull away, taking deep breaths, his heart slamming into his ribcage. As if things could not be any more shameful, his cheeks were burning red hot, though he was unsure if that was because of the way the guilt ate at him or the pulse of the powerful spark against his sternum.

The young man made an effort to not breathe directly into Megatron's face, tilting his head down. His gaze followed, landing on the deep purple of the layered armor.

"I'm still trying," he said, the words appearing despite the swirling haze in his mind, "to make this work. For the both of us."

"Your effort is noted," sharp denta nipped at his chin, then down his neck. Jack took a deep breath, grunting as the servo on his thigh circled around to the back, getting quite the handful.

"Easy," he huffed, touching the servo. He wrapped his fingers against a couple of digits, prompting them to loosen up. A ventilation of disdain blew against his skin, yet the dictator complied, taking his sweet time again to enjoy what he could. Jack felt his lips tingling, the same sensation lingering at each point of contact with Megatron.

This is so wrong.

And yet he could not stop, he wouldn't stop, until time had run out; that was their agreement, and that would keep his friends safe. It had to.

But then what? Would this relationship simply cease to exist?

He had a feeling it would not. It would always linger in the air, in the back of his mind, and in his dreams. This was a part of him forever, whether he wanted it to be or not. He would regret it, certainly, however now was not the time for that.

Now, he had to protect his friends and family in any way he could.

"Kiss me again," he requested softly, Megatron complying without a moment's hesitation, possessive hold promising to never let him go. Jack allowed the distraction to rip away the guilt, a servo running down his back, then fisting into the fabric, a brief prayer flickering through his head that it was thick enough to not be sliced to ribbons.

As time was whisked away the hungry kisses of the Decepticon did not let up for a single moment. His servos also took the liberty of adjusting their holds every so often, touching various parts of Jack's body without restraint. His own hands wandered from around his neck, to his shoulders, chest, even dragging fingers across the intricate pieces of his back. Once again he felt the metal beneath him heat up, Megatron's vents only subtly changing in pace. It was obvious he did not want to tip Jack off to how he made him feel, though at this point the human was also panting softly. They had to stop, he needed to stop, and yet it was getting harder and harder to pull away.

Because you're weak. You're weak and needy without restraint. And if you're not careful he will suck you into this black hole you've already begun to orbit.

Eventually Megatron moved to his neck, Jack able to spare a glance at the clock on his dresser. The glaring double digits prompted a sigh from him, which in turn eased up Megatron's ever-hungry conquest.

"I should go to bed," he said quietly once the dictator paused. "So I'm not tired tomorrow."

Servos lingered, holding his waist.

"Very well," there was obvious disappointment, Jack internally cringing. He knew this was a dangerous game, a gamble in which he assumed Megatron would not run out of patience.

Though, he thought wryly, would he even protest at that point?

His mind, perhaps, yet his body barely listened anymore; not to mention he was beginning to no longer care. He was no longer chained by so many ifs, ands, or buts.

Something about the tyrant's embrace made him even forget he was supposed to hate him, now tolerating his presence more than any sane person ever should.

Still, he took solace in the idea that his end goal was still to forget about this when it was all said and done - to rob Megatron of anything he could and then take off with the Autobots. He wanted to be useful where otherwise he would be useless.

Sliding out of the warlord's lap he made himself comfortable in bed, his eyes already closed by the time Megatron settled beside him, their routine a given at this point. The familiar arm which wrapped around him settled on his back, tracing nonsense patterns as the hot frame against him slowly cooled down. Head leaning against the Decepticon insignia, Jack's wild heart began to calm, drifting off to sleep at the sound of steady ventilations.

XXX

Megatron arrived to a mess on the Nemesis.

The morning had been like any other, and he supposed it would have been too much to assume that events on the ship were going smoothly. Though, to be fair, he was tempting fate by having Orion Pax aboard; everything he was doing was to ensure the mech did not stumble upon any incriminating evidence, though he was not foolish enough to think Soundwave did not properly sanitize the data core. And in all fairness, it was not that which had caused such a ruckus.

It was, of course, Starscream.

The two-faced conniving Seeker was still flying around, however a Vehicon had reported injuring him and sending him plummeting to Earth. In good drone fashion they had not gone to check and ensure Starscream was terminated, whether because they believed gravity would decide his fate, or they were afraid of the mech putting up a fight. Regardless, the incident had occurred a few hours ago, and the drone had not bothered logging the coordinates, so any hope of recovering a body - or making one - was lost.

Megatron growled. This planet is making incompetent fools out of my men!

The incident with Arcee had already been cause enough for alarm. Luckily, Soundwave had been able to helpfully escort her off the ship before Orion Pax laid optics on her.

Yet now, now, Starscream had to ruin everything. Megatron realized now his prior explanation for his absence had been a mistake. Orion barely seemed content with his excuse that the Seeker was dead to the cause, when Megatron had previously made it clear he was truly offline. His inquisitive mind was becoming troublesome, however he was still invaluable to the Decepticon cause. He could not terminate the mech just yet.

And his flimsy excuse had clearly only worked so well. Orion had every intention to lie to him once the inquiry Did Starscream say anything particularly troubling to you? reached his audio receptors, that much was exceptionally clear. Something had been said to the archivist, however whatever it was he would not reveal it to his "friend." Nevertheless, if he kept doing his job . . . Megatron would let it slide.

Orion was lucky. He had caught the Decepticon leader in a good mood.

A mood, unfortunately, which was becoming increasingly spoiled by the second.

"Orion was never very adept at the art of deception," he said aloud to the ever-present Soundwave, stalking down the hall towards the main bridge. "I made a mistake not terminating Starscream when I previously had the opportunity. A mistake which I do not intend to make again!"

It angered him to think that the traitorous second-in-command would be the undoing of this fabrication. After so many centuries of keeping the Seeker at bay, when Megatron had finally decided it was time to get rid of him . . . the weasel had slipped through his servos once more.

He bared his denta, anger simmering below the surface.

Soundwave wordlessly sent him a report of everything that had transpired during his absence, the TIC close enough that his EM field transmitted his concern for his master as well. Ever the most loyal of Decepticons, only Soundwave was brave enough to question his master's judgement. Not about any of this, of course, but rather his decision to disappear for almost twelve Earth hours at a time, burning copious amounts of energon to become a vulnerable size, and place himself in enemy territory . . . all for him.

Jackson Darby, a mere human, connected to Amicus only by a few drops of blood, another human which had earned the prestigious title of the Decepticon leader's consort. Consort, of course, in the most loosest of terms.

No matter how tight Megatron attempted to reign in his EM field, Soundwave was far too clever to evade. He could feel it, how it pulsed and ebbed whenever thoughts of the organic crossed his leader's processor.

"I have begun monitoring myself more closely, Soundwave," Megatron's red optics flickered towards his third-in-command. "I will not compromise my position in such a way ever again."

The other officers were beginning to call him into question, as usually their master remained on the bridge for hours at a time, resting for a brief few kliks before his obsessive nature demanded he return. In addition, he almost appeared distracted, though the Vehicons were wise to not point it out for fear of losing their helms. They merely followed orders, though their audio receptors were always closely attuned to Airachnid as she spouted off her own suspicions of the mech's behavior. This, of course, was also not missed by the eyes and ears of the Decepticons.

Megatron stopped, the hall completely empty save for the two of them.

"I will not risk bringing him aboard. As convenient as it might be, to do so risks his untimely termination, be it at the hands of a certain spider, or his fragile body. We are not equipped to handle a human presence."

Soundwave tilted his helm. So, he expected to continue his nightly visitations for at least the next three months - what was he to do should Jack consent to the relationship? Continue such trysts until his natural expiration?

"If he must be brought here, then so be it," Megatron acquiesced. "But Soundwave, it is ultimately the last resort. Not a hair is to be harmed on his organic hair . . ." dangerous denta glinted in the light, "that is not done by my own servo."

The silent communications officer merely indicated his understanding. His own project would ensure that the organic would be comfortable aboard the Nemesis, however it was a slow-going endeavor. He did not share this with his master just yet, as he wanted to ensure it was near-completion before revealing it. Instead, he continued broadcasting his lingering concerns; however, he also trusted Megatron to act rationally, and in the best interest of his faction and end goals. Jack was to act as a break from the chaos of war, nothing more than an extracurricular activity to occasionally partake in. Certainly, if Megatron acted rational enough with Amicus, he could do the same with Jackson Darby.

Admittedly, however, he was doing a poor job of demonstrating such rationale. No matter, Soundwave would continue to monitor, as he always did.

The pair continued their trek to the bridge, Soundwave silently returning to his workstation there, Megatron standing in the midst of it all and absorbing the reports which came his way.

The warlord placed his servos behind his back, allowing the data stream to just wash over him, optics flickering across the Decepticon glyphs which ran across the screen. Everything had returned to relative normality, though they had suffered a few casualties after Starscream's escape, the wounded currently being treated in Knock Out's medical bay. Those reports filtered in on occasion after the CMO had finished each patient encounter; admittedly, as vain as he was, Knock Out was an extraordinary surgeon and made the most immaculate reports.

Now that the sports car was in the loop, Megatron considered having him play along with Jack's little game. As annoyed as he was by the human's lacking ability to deceive, it also humored him to a short extent. Yet more than anything, it irked him to think of the possibility of Jack being with another behind his back, yet he had done a tasteful job of assuring the warlord he knew exactly who he belonged to.

The tyrant preferred to use his servos to touch, however he would never turn down something considerably more intimate to further his mission. Kissing was nothing new to him, as it was a part of Cybertronian culture - amongst those who could, anyways - but humans did it with much more frequency and fervor, a staple in their courting rituals. So when Jack had finally allowed for him to perform it after days of waiting, well . . . yes, admittedly, he did become a bit too excited.

It was progress, a small stepping-stone which he could finesse to get what he ultimately wanted. Megatron found it was hardly the organic's body which needed convincing; his mind was another entity entirely. His initial hesitations, the bitingly sarcastic words he used to rebuttal some of Megatron's more thinly-veiled advances, were a few examples. With every passing night, he allowed for more and more, and at the moment they were at a plateau. He was still uncertain, only convinced after some sweet words and carefully placed kisses.

As long as Optimus Prime stayed out of the picture, Megatron was certain he could secure victory. The Prime knew his old friend all too well, and he would see the changes in Jack's behavior immediately - and not for one second would he buy that he was running around with another human.

Once Orion Pax was finished with his work, Megatron would not hesitate to terminate him. It would be for the good of the Decepticon cause . . .

And nothing would stand between him and Jack.

XXX

Returning home, Jack had never felt more hopeless. There was no sign of a Spacebridge, or Orion Pax, the Autobots once again coming up with absolutely nothing from their scouting missions. Even Ratchet was discouraged, as he and Rafael's attempts to "turbo-charge" the Groundbridge continued to get scrapped. Honestly, Jack felt stupid for even mentioning the bridge, providing this false hope that they would be able to find the accursed thing.

Almost a month and a half of nothing, and now . . . now, almost a month of Megatron, without anything to show for it. The least he could do, the least he owed to the Autobots was extracting information from their greatest enemy; it was why he made this agreement in the first place.

Instead, he was being a complete and utter idiot about it. If anything, he should have told Arcee everything, kept her in the know in case anything happened. She could have offered tips, ideas on how to lure Megatron into a verbal trap and tell him things he never should have known.

At the same time, however, he knew his partner. She would freak out over the entire incident, blowing his cover while attempting to kill Megatron. And whether she was successful or not, the retaliation would be the same: complete annihilation of Jasper, Nevada, and the execution of an innocent Orion Pax.

He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. Surely he was smarter than this. There had to be a way.

Jack jumped as a Groundbridge burst to life in his room, taking a deep breath as the tyrant stepped through with practiced ease. The young man's light was still on as he sat at his desk, finishing off the last of his homework for the day before he turned in for bed. It was one of the few times the teachers decided to place all of their due dates on the same day, meaning his workload was greater than normal.

"I'll be done in a bit," he informed the dictator quietly, turning back to his work even as the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. Megatron was unnaturally quiet, slinking over to the edge of his bed and settling there, the room once again devolving into dead silence.

Odd. He bit his lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious, taking another deep breath as he attempted to regain focus on the paper in front of him. Where the equations had been swimming before now they were dancing, no more than gibberish to his brain as the very presence of Megatron turned his thought processes to mush.

That would explain why I can't think straight around him. Allspark almighty.

Well, at least he was not touching him. That would be enough to just drive him mad.

It felt like forever, but Jack eventually finished his homework, gathering his clothes and silently disappearing into the bathroom, ensuring his bedroom door was closed behind him. He took the time to compose himself, once again lost in his thoughts on how he could convince Megatron to give up some kind of information. If he tried to outright negotiate a deal he would get suspicious and likely figure out the Autobot's plans. And Jack had to remember part of their deal was to separate the war from . . . this. They had mutually agreed to not use one another.

Still, Jack felt completely useless. Optimus gave him the Key to Vector Sigma because he believed the human capable of putting his contingency plan into action - great, except the Autobots had no means of making it happen. Not yet, anyways.

He sighed, leaning against the sink and splashing his face with water.

Get yourself together, Darby.

Not spending more time than he dared in the bathroom he slipped back out, his mother long gone for work. It was only them, and yet now more than ever Jack realized that was a dangerous thing.

Megatron watched him toss his clothes in their usual corner, red optics lingering on his face.

"Something wrong?" Jack asked, finally gathering the courage to call out the dictator's odd behavior. "Something happen? Is Op- Orion Pax alright?"

The resulting growl was not what he expected. "Pax is faring just fine. It is merely . . . others who are causing difficulty."

"I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it," Jack said, standing between his knees at the edge of the bed. Megatron only had to barely tilt his helm up to look at Jack. Of course, then Jack had to say something stupid: "I'm glad Orion is doing okay."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Megatron asked, nearly demanded of him, Jack hesitating when he realized that had been the wrong thing to say. He had meant it, and for some moronic reason assumed Megatron felt the same - which of course he would not, as he and Orion Pax had long ago severed ties.

"I was just . . . it was just something I said," Jack replied pathetically, wanting to kick himself. Of course the lord of Decepticons did not take any words to be meaningless, so his excuse was not going to fly in the least bit. "Is it a crime to worry about him?"

"It makes me question where your true motives lie."

Jack stared at him in bewilderment, deciding he had walked straight into a bear trap. One wrong move, and it would snap shut on him.

The human opened his mouth to respond, pausing and seriously considering if he wanted to go this route, then continuing anyways because - what was the harm? "Are you jealous?"

Savage denta glinted as they were bared. "I do not get jealous."

"Says the possessive warlord," Jack had no idea what he was doing anymore. It seemed like they were both in a bad mood - though he highly doubted he would be the one walking away without a bruise if things went too far. "If you think Optimus and I had anything going on, you must really be delusional. And before you ask, no, I don't have a thing with anyone except you. As I tell you almost on a daily basis."

Megatron searched his face, Jack not allowing his eyes to break contact for a single second. It was a silent battle of wills, Jack finally getting brave enough to reach forward and touch the sides of his helm with his hands.

"I know this is rich, coming from me, but I need you to trust me," Jack said, his eyes finally falling as the revelation bubbled from his chest and past his lips before he could stop them, before he forced himself to wait another week, another month. "I want you here."

His fingers tingled as the EM field around them flared, filled with an energy he could not quite peg down. Claws came forward, grabbing his sweatshirt and pulling him closer until he was back in the tyrant's lap, knees settling against strong thighs.

"Do you want, or do you need, Jackson?"

His words caught in his throat, putting pressure on his lungs as the heady question was breathed into his ear. Eyes closed, he shivered as servos readjusted, one wrapping around his waist as the other tangled in his hair. His own hands were pressed against a broad chest, the only distance he had with the Decepticon. Denta scrapped at his jaw, just below his ear, waiting for his answer.

I hate this. I hate this so much.

No, you don't.

Jack wished it was false, even just a little bit, yet as the words left his lips their conviction held all the truth in the world.

"I need you."