Hello Lovelies. It's been awhile, but I finally figured this chapter out, so here you go.
Chapter Warning/Tags/Kinks - Rough Interface. Consensual. M/M. Dark Themes.
Chapter 13 - Disappear
Full recognition had returned to him the moment he realized the commander was in his room again, but still he remained motionless unable to move as if the pain was crushing him. Twice now he had watched with an aching spark as his one-time lover strode away silently and without pause.
Cold indifference. That was what he had received from Soundwave, just like he had before the courtship. It had all been a lie, even the interface had been falsified. He wasn't sure why any of this had happened, but he was certain whatever the spy had been ordered to distract him from had been taken care of.
Now… it was over. The only thing meaningful, the only thing to make him happy in vorns… was over. Although he had thought this event would break him, he found that it was not much different from all the other emotional turmoil he had suffered. Compartmentalization at its finest.
The pain was already starting to fade away and, in its place, rage began to fester. There was no doubt that his anger was partially with the commander, but more so it was internalized self-loathing. He should have known better than to accept what Soundwave had offered him. From the beginning he thought it all a lie and he had been right so why had he allowed himself to hope again? It was foolish. He was foolish, and more than that, why couldn't he just be a Decepticon?
Except for Knockout and Breakdown, all others wanted to simply frag each other's processors out, and then be done with each other, but not him. He pinned for another, for a bondmate and to be wanted like the foolish mech he was.
Makeshift was disgusted with himself. At least after the torture sessions there was a reason for his self-pity and shock type demeanor. This had been nothing more than being told he wasn't getting to frag the commander anymore and he acted as though it were a fate worse than deactivation.
Makeshift sighed heavily, exhaustion coming to the forefront of his mind and dousing his rage like fire. Resignation came next just like it always had, and he realized that nothing had changed. These feelings, his sessions, all of it was familiar; he was back to exactly where he had been before the commander.
I can't sit here any longer. He moved slowly trying not to aggravate his wounds more than necessary and activated his supplementary nanite protocols. His body immediately underwent an assessment phase, which ended with a prompt on his HUD for additional nanites.
Luckily, he remembered that Zero had placed an extra tube of them and a spare injector in the cupboards along the far wall. He retrieved both items quickly and administered the entire vial before intending to move to the wash racks to inspect the damage to his frame.
He made it all of two steps before the door to his quarters slid open and Megatron's massive form filled the doorway.
Makeshift froze, apprehension filling him instantly. How would he play this situation? He hadn't had time to research beforehand like he normally would, so he would have to think on the fly. He had had a multitude of experiences with Starscream in this exact situation so he knew how the flier would act but it was obvious that Megatron did not. If he copied the flier, there was a chance that Megatron wouldn't approve. Although, he had researched the warlord's past encounters before when he performed for Starscream, and the twos' preferences fit together quite well.
And that was the problem.
He didn't want this, didn't want to feel the other's massive claws on his plating for it would not be pleasurable. Lord Megatron was going to tear into the pliable metal of Starscream's frame and douse him in a fire borne from burning pain, not overwhelming desire.
He envisioned the metal wrenching and screeching as it rubbed together. He saw the rivulets of energon pouring from the open wounds and the frayed wires sparking, almost close enough to ignite. He knew of such things, had endured such things often enough that he could already feel them happening, sensor echoes providing him with the painful reminders his processor did not need.
Only then, when Megatron was satisfied with the visceral evidence left upon the other's diminutive frame would he finally take his own pleasure. Makeshift was entirely certain then even that would not be good for him because Starscream, like Megatron, wanted the brutality and the pain mixed with the pleasure, while he did not.
It fueled the flier's ecstasy when their lord forced his way into the tiny valve, stretching him almost until his breaking point. It made him burn all the hotter when he was given no opportunity to adjust, and he would yearn and beg for more with each repetitive thrust.
More so even than his apathy for those dominance games and masochism, he could only think about how hollow it made him feel, how insignificant he had become. Makeshift had just lost the only thing that had mattered to him, lost the one thing he had ever wanted, the one thing that had taken him away from his life as what he now realized was a pleasure bot, and less than a human week later he was going to be used again.
In the end there was only one thing to do: his job. He would play his role and acquiesce like he always had, but he had been wrong before when he thought that everything was the same. It wasn't. Makeshift had finally had the one thing he had ever wanted and now it was gone, denied to him with the knowledge that it had never truly existed. He knew before this night was through some part of his spark was going to disappear forever and he would never be the same.
xXx
Time passed uncounted before Megatron finally strode forward and stopped right before the lithe frame of his former SIC. Starscream had yet to do anything other than stare at him with those piercing crimson optics, but his steadily growing anger at seeing the traitor had finally overwhelmed his processor.
His right claw lashed outward in a blur to grasp the seeker and lift him up by his neck cables, easily cutting off the tangible flow of energon through the tubes. He felt the hot, rapid pulsing dull to a mere trickle and Starscream scrabbled at his immense servo trying to gain purchase. The seeker's claws left superficial scratches on his wrist plating but there was none of the deadly force or intent behind them that Megatron knew he was capable of.
"Master," he choked out feebly. "Please… let me explain." He growled in anger at the whining vocalizations assaulting his audios, and subsequently threw the mech maliciously across the room where he skidded a few meters, sparks jumping from the metal-on-metal scrapes. The seeker was back up instantly, his eyes flitting about as if assessing his escape options. His proud wings were tilted downward, an obvious try for humility. "Master, please forgive me. I was only trying to survive."
"Really, Starscream, and what danger were you in while with the Decepticons that you did not cause by your own stupidity," he said while advancing on the other mech. At his words he saw Starscream's faceplates twist into an expression of arrogance and then anger as if the idea of him doing anything stupid was outlandish. The expression was replaced almost instantly, a neutral look flashing onto his slim face, but Megatron had seen that look and he did not miss the way the optics now burned even brighter.
"You yourself almost deactivated me, Lord Megatron," and the tone was not deferential, it was defiant. Starscream's cowardice was nothing more than a show, a persona he threw up when it suited him. It was something to make a bot feel bad or underestimate him, but Megatron had never been fooled.
Behind all the cringing and begging lay a keen, treacherous mind and a rebellious, untamable spark that had allowed him to become Second-In-Command of an army of larger and more lethal fighters than his smaller, lighter frame would ever permit. Those qualities were what had drawn Megatron to him so many vorns ago and the reason he had put up with the flier's continual deceit.
"I saved your pathetic life!" he roared as he swiped a claw across Starscream's already fouled chestplate. It bit deep into the plates, bringing a screech from his victim and energon welled up in the slices.
Megatron watched mesmerized as the bright blue gushes of their life force slowly dripped down the silver metal. He'd always enjoyed bringing the seeker under control, asserting his dominance, and leaving his mark along the other mech's frame but never before had it made him feel like this. Unbearable heat swept across his plating, alighting his sensors and washing them in cool fire. His spike thudded against its housing, pressurizing the longer he stared at Starscream, and interfacing protocols activated without his input.
"Master—" but Megatron cut him off with a servo on his wing. Starscream looked as if he wished he could disappear, his optics pleading to be spared from what he knew was to come. He relished the look for a moment, then he smirked and Starscream whimpered right before he raked his claw down the delicate appendage, shredding the metal as if it were Earth parchment. The seeker fell to his servos and knees screaming and writhing from the pain that came from the damage to his most sensitive attachment.
The pained groans never faltered as he collapsed further against the ground unable to find any relief from his torment. The warlord waited, watching every movement, every claw flex and every wing flick, drinking in the sights of his former SIC submitting to him, heeding Megatron's dominance with his own marks of claim obscuring what was once immaculate plating.
"Master, I came… back," he gasped out between clenched denta. "I… have seen the error of… my ways. I only wish to serve you now," he begged, imparting a certain amount of strength to his voice that some might not think possible given his current state, but his leader knew better. Starscream was never what he seemed and there was always more fight left in him than there appeared.
He considered the words for a moment knowing full well that the other con's silver glossa had always spewed lies. "You deserve what has befallen you and worse, but I have other plans for you, my dear Starscream." The flier looked up at him warily but with a glimmer of hope in his previously dull optics.
Megatron picked the other up by the arm harshly, snapping the wires in the wrist joint as he dragged him along the floor toward the berthroom. Inside the seeker was hauled onto the berth unceremoniously and left so that he was facing Megatron's standing form.
He backed away, cradling his useless wrist, until he was up against the helmboard practically sniveling as he pressed his frame as tight to the metal as he could, barely avoiding putting pressure on his shredded wing. "Master, what are you going to do?" he ex-vented softly.
"You think yourself so intelligent Starscream, figure it out."
It was then that Starscream finally surveyed his surroundings. His helm flicked about the room before settling on the berth he lay upon. A sly look overtook his faceplates as his helm slowly upturned. "Master," he purred out, "I had no idea you desired me in such a way."
Megatron laughed and the flyer flinched. "You seekers are all the same, always overestimating yourselves. This is nothing more than a new method of putting you in your place," he said climbing onto the berth and hovering over the other mech, who slid down to lay against the sheets.
"Of course, Lord Megatron," he replied with faceplates still contorted into a much too arrogant look for Megatron's liking. "Although, my sensors tell me you are quite…," and his good servo waved around the air in front of Megatron's torso, "…heated about this 'new method'."
"Simply my frame's reaction to knowing what I'm about to do to you," he concluded and punctuated his words by wrenching Starscream's legs apart. Unexpectedly, the flier's panel clicked open, an obvious show of arousal and Megatron laughed again, more amused than derisive this time.
Starscream gave him an indignant look and gritted out, "Frag you."
"Oh, you will," and he shoved one of his long claws into Starscream's valve. The flier screeched loudly, backplates arching off the berth, and optics showing both pleasure and pain. Megatron felt around for a moment and then pulled his digit out, smirking. He flipped Starscream over and the seeker slowly moved onto his servos and knees, visibly trying not to place too much weight onto his dislocated joint.
He retracted his codpiece and interface panel in one smooth motion and pressed his fully pressurized spike up against the tiny valve. The seeker spluttered, "But, my lord Megatron, I have had no preparation."
"Really, Starscream? I hadn't noticed," and he pressed himself forward against heavy resistance. It quickly became apparent that he wasn't going to fit without force, so he pulled Starscream bodily onto him and thrust again simultaneously. The valve gave, his flared head pushing inside even as the walls compressed around him. The seeker was poorly lubricated, and every movement was a harsh grind that was not pleasurable for either of them.
Instead of allowing the walls to shift, Megatron gripped the seeker's hips more tightly and slammed himself inside. The plates around him dented, unable to stand up to his onslaught. Grunts erupted from Starscream's vocalizer, but no words came forth, no pleas to stop so he surged forward. He started up a fast pace of harsh thrusts, pushing his spike further and further inside until finally reaching the end of the seeker before his entire length was encased.
The valve was fully open now, and he pressed in harder, but Starscream was much too small for him. Megatron could feel the scrapes he was placing along the walls; sensors were stripped as he slid back and forth across them. Visible energy crackled along his frame alone and sparks flew from where they crashed together, the back of the seeker's thigh plating collapsing a little more with each blow.
Despite the damage and much to Megatron's surprise, he felt Starscream widen his legs to allow him better access. The seeker tilted his hips as well adjusting the angle of the spike inside himself and on the next thrust, Megatron struck the anterior node. The contact pulled a quiet groan from the smaller mech, and lubricant flooded the valve.
It wasn't much longer before Starscream was pushing back, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Are you enjoying yourself, Starscream?" Megatron asked condescension dripping in his tone.
"Hardly. You frag like a grounder."
"Oh, and how is that?"
"No finesse."
Megatron laughed harshly but in real amusement. "If I wished to please you, Starscream, it would hardly be a challenge."
"Whatever you say, Master," and the mockery was evident in the word.
He intended to reply but paused as a comm. came through unexpectedly. /Lord Megatron?/ and it was a drone's voice.
/Did I not say that I am not to be disturbed this solarcycle?/
/Apologies, my lord, but Commander Soundwave insisted. You are needed on the bridge./
Megatron just growled in response and cut the transmission. "It seems you are being called away," said Starscream.
He released one of the seeker's hips and instead took him by the back of the helm, shoving his faceplates into the berth sheets. "No more talking," Megatron ground out, irritated with this entire situation now. He resumed his original pace and could feel by the charge in his circuits that this would not take much longer.
A few more thrusts and his servo closed down around the flared hip denting it in his vice-like grip as he pulled out spraying his transfluid over the flier's aft, thighs, and valve. Megatron pulled his spike back into its housing, dismounted the birth, and left the quarters without a backwards glance.
Thanks for reading.