King and Crown: R (sexuality)

Inspired by art by tench at deviantART. The picture: http : / / fav . me / d4f6vgd (you will need to remove spaces to access link)

A/N: Story's sort of an alternate reality idea regarding the end of TF:P, season 1, borrowing bits and pieces of the G1 movie.

If Starscream were to give a king's speech to his new legion of Decepticons, he might've added Megatron to the list of those he was grateful for. No more than a foot note, mind you. Out with the old, in with the new, and that crazy old bat deserved no more than just a few sentences in his awe-inspiring, powerful speech to his kingdom.

Yes, that was correct. His kingdom. Not Megatron's. If he were to hypothetically thank Megatron as previously mentioned, he would have thanked him for making him strong, resilient, all the more determined to bring the tyrant down. Then he would have thanked him for doing that all himself. Who would have thought Unicron would be Megatron's undoing? Oh, it all looked so hopeful and bright for Megatron in the beginning - He was given an ugrade; new look, new weapons, even a new name - Galvatron, how pretentious - but still sporting the same old attitude and outdated ideals.

Then, the Autobots intervened and with a little flick of the wrist and a metaphorical stab in the back, Unicron was back in his slumbering prison and Galvatron was on his knees, bleeding and weak and rejected by those who once believed in him. He could no longer give them what they needed - a brilliant leader to follow and a bright future to call their own. So when Starscream easily glided toward the former Decepticon leader broken in the dirt, tilted his chin back with the edge of his boot and sneered in his face, any disrespect or misguided illusions the Decepticons had for Starscream vanished.

Starscream took rise in the ranks and assumed control. As he had dreamed and schemed and preached to the deaf and blind, he was leader now. The commander of the Decepticons and, soon, all of Cybertron itself. Then so many galaxies, so many possibilities, ripe for the taking, and Starscream would burn his mark into their cores and they would know who had conquered and chained them 'til they burned to dust.

The Seeker placed the crown on his head, in both a figurative and literal sense. Knock Out could poorly attempt to conceal and hide his gossip and disdain for Starscream's fashion sense all he wanted, but the medic was of no concern or threat to him. As long as it pleased Starscream, nothing else mattered. The wine-purple cape accentuated his features, shaped well the silver and red lines of his frame. The crown was not necessary, but Starscream found assuming a throne required one nonetheless.

Forged from the volcanic pit where Unicron was to rise, the crown was a fierce gold, a headband woven like vines sporting rubies to equal the same powerful glow of his optics. The center piece clipped perfectly against the antenna sprouting from the center of his forehead. His throne matching the taste and grandeur which he wore and exuded.

Though it was the little things that counted, Starscream told himself. The crown, the cape, the throne, so very insignificant but my, the boost they brought. Of all the little things Starscream appreciated most, it was the self-loathing look in Galvatron's eyes when his former Master was brought, bound and helpless, into the throne room, fleshed out of the Nemesis's husk.

Two Eradicons who would have deactivated themselves before even thinking of touching Megatron were now thrusting and forcing the silver-purple mech onto his knees at Starscream's feet. The Seeker king gestured them off, and they disappeared, leaving the two alone.

Starscream stared down at Galvatron. He folded one leg over the other, bridged hands on his lap. "Isn't this an interesting turn of events," he purred. "The Mighty Galvatron, bowing his head low to Starscream. After eons of denying me of my place as leader, and egotistical faith that you could never be defeated." He chuckled darkly. "Look where your naivety got you. Disabled, powerless, weak, disrespected and laughed at, ruined and tarnished. You've lost your might and your glow." He clicked his claws together and sighed. "If I were a merciful king, I would put you out of your misery. However, I haven't yet decided your fate."

Galvatron kept his eyes on the floor. Glared hellfire at Starscream's tapping heel. "What to do, what to do," Starscream hummed, shaking his head. "I've so many ideas, it's so hard to choose just one." He gently nudged at the purple mech's chin, forced him to raise his optics. "You're being very rude, Galvatron. You should look your superiors in the eyes when they talk to you."

Galvatron lifted his head. His optics stared straight into Starscream's, full of so much more than just raw hatred. Starscream grinned pearly whites. "Ah, yes, that's what I like to see," he crooned. He sat forward, placing the tip of one sharp finger beneath the mech's chin. Tapped against it. "I do, however, have one little idea. It may not prove beneficial to your survival, but still, I venture it might be worth your while."

Galvatron's brows knit. He was slightly curious, if not even further annoyed by Starscream's stalling.

The Seeker's grin was malicious, deadly. "We had so much fun in our older days, don't you think? When we fresh and new and we did not see the disease underlying your good intentions." He smirked at the slight scowl he earned. "How about we relive those days - just one last time. Before I decide if you are to live or die, once and for all."

Galvatron snorted. "So predictable…"

Starscream snickered. "Oh, but you don't seem too adverse to the idea, if I'm reading the fluctuations in your energy signature correctly," he crooned. He took the mech's chin, pulled him closer as he reclined back in his throne, his cape pouring over it like a blanket of energon. Galvatron went as commanded, did not fight back. Soon, his knees were pressed against the cold steel and marble, his head hovering between the Seeker's open legs. "Play your cards right, you'll enjoy this as well."

Galvatron was indeed warming up. His chassis was turning hot. Eyes full of anxious desire, lust bordering murderous. Starscream wasn't afraid, however. He reached over Galvatron's shoulder, clicked away the coding keeping the larger mech's arms cuffed. They opened with a 'click', fell, and now Galvatron was free, moving his arms back to his front. Oh, the Seeker was very well aware that his former Master could easily crush him with those bare hands, but he also knew he wouldn't be foolish enough to try.

As Starscream expected, Galvatron's large, heavy hands lifted, but did not aim to harm. They rested over the Seeker's hips, held them almost tenderly. Starscream stretched in his hands, backstruct rolling against the throne. The two exchanged looks - one devious, other indescribable - momentarily, just a split second, and then Starscream was moaning around his victorious smile as Galvatron's glossa traced obedient circles along his waist.

Starscream closed his eyes, enjoying this wonderful act of submission. Galvatron slipped his tongue around seams, along dermal plating, working up and then down. He moved south, let his tongue dip between mid-section and pelvis. Tasting peripheral circuitry nested just underneath the surface. Up a moment to kiss and lick abdomen plating, small energon pumps like veins wrenched to the surface. Then his mouth was breathing hot against his groin, the metal that pressed and slipped down between Starscream's legs. Galvatron's great shoulders heaved as he lowered himself, kissing and stroking his tongue against the sensitive plating of the Seeker's thighs. He nipped at the seam between limb and pelvis, and Starscream groaned obscenely, nearly closing his long legs around the purple mech's head.

Starscream dropped a hand to the top of Galvatron's helm. Dug his claws against the sharp horns that formed the mech's own thorny crown, now lost of its luster. "Yes, yes," he purred, dragging his words into hisses. Galvatron continued pleasuring his thigh, along the bottom of his groin plating, licking and lapping like a dog with its tail between its legs. Starscream whimpered, cycles hitching, when the purple mech dragged his nails almost too roughly along the padding of his right thigh. Would leave behind marks, but he did not mind in the least.

As Galvatron's head lifted, Starscream sat back. The rough hands around his hips yanked him forward, and now Galvatron was hungrily relishing the cold metal of Starscream's body. Leaving behind streaks of coolant as his tongue prodded and tasted every nuance and dip of his plating. The Decepticon leader was grinning widely, his optics glittering; he rested his elbows against the massive armrests, relaxing his head against the back of his hands. Sitting quaint and pretty in the arms of his throne and Galvatron's iron grip.

"It's the little things," Starscream purred. He swallowed hard. "The pleasure does not solely derive from the physical contact." He nudged his groin up against Galvatron's face, who gave a throaty growl. "Rather, the act itself. Look at you, my dear Master." Galvatron paused, saw the glow of his optics against Starscream's silver plating. The glow cast from the jewels along the Seeker's crown. "Oh," Starscream cooed, "how the mighty have fallen."

At least a Decepticon could dream.

Starscream opened his optics, dim in the darkness of his cell. He heard the humming of the electric bars fall silent. Sitting up, Airachnid stood outside, between the threshold of freedom and imprisonment. She smiled. "Lord Me - ahem - Galvatron will speak to you now," she purred, gesturing out into the brig's hall. Starscream slowly gathered to his feet. "Though with that cannon loaded," the femme snickered, "I doubt there will be much talking involved."

Starscream snorted at Airachnid as he stepped out. "You underestimate my value to Lord… Galvatron," he scowled and shoved past her. Eradicons were waiting to escort him to what would either be forgiveness, or an execution. Still, if he were to die tonight, he could look Galvatron in the eyes, and smile and that alone would be enough to infuriate the tyrant and comfort him to his demise.

END