Author's Note: I'm sorry about the long wait! I hope that you continue to enjoy!

It's kind of become routine over the next few orns. Orion will work for the first half of the orn, being sure to keep on track with everything expected of him, before heading out into Kaon to locate Breakbolt, wherever he was roaming at the time. The older bot is always so happy to see him, grabbing onto Orion's servos and hanging off of him as they walk through the streets together. Orion saves his last meal of the orn to have with his new friend, making sure that the old bot has at least one cube of energon before the day cycle comes to an end. And in payment, Breakbolt talks about all sorts of things. Rarely does he stick to a single topic for overly long, though. His attention span is flighty at best, bouncing from one thing to another. But of all the things he'll touch on, he mostly talks about his theories of the dangers of the caste system and how the government has been planning the downfall of the lower caste for a long time.

"A purge, Sweet Orion! One by one!"

Orion sits with him on a bench, one of Breakbolt's servos gripping the inside of Orion's elbow, while the other savor handles his daily cube. He's been looking a little better these last few orns. Orion has been so happy to have someone to spend time with and even Teletraan has been interested in parsing through everything that Breakbolt has been saying. And while he's not so sure about all the conspiracies - the purges, the enforced servitude, even that they somehow have disturbed the sacred artifacts of Cybertron - he does hear a bit about Breakbolt's life before coming to live in Kaon. He likes the little bits interspersed with the long stream of theories and fears. These tidbits of his life, while sad, also seem to be a relief to relive in a way, for the older bot.

"I used to live in Iacon, you know? It was a long time ago, now. But I was there, and I saw all of the things they didn't want us to see," Breakbolt rambles, sipping at his cube before leaning into Orion's side. "My creation is like me, you know? Nothing like his beautiful carrier. His carrier was always so serious, but a dreamer, you know? His carrier had such big hopes for our creation - for me. Pits, for all of us."

Breakbolt's red optics stare off into the middle distance, daydreaming with a warm smile across his face. Orion doesn't interrupt him. Doesn't stop him from talking about any of it. The old bot has been alone a long time, it seems. And he is incredibly lonely. Orion doesn't mind abating some of that loneliness with his presence. He can't undo the pain or replace what was lost - nor would he want to - but he can still be there. He can offer his time and his audio and his patience.

Orion gently pets the servo holding onto his arm. "He sounds like he was an amazing partner."

Breakbolt's face falters a bit, sadly, the dimmer of his two optics flickers out before he shakes his head, as if to dislodge the thoughts. "I should have left, sweet Orion. I should have left that place a long time ago. He wanted me to leave. They both did. We should have gone back home when we had the chance. We should have tried to do something else other than stay."

"Did you really hate it in Iacon?" Orion asks softly. He can understand why some people wouldn't like it there. It's just like with any place. Just because Orion lived his entire life there until coming to Kaon, doesn't mean that he doesn't see that it isn't for everyone. That people could be unhappy living in a place where the great opulence of the inner sectors of Iacon can leave people feeling inadequate. Orion never felt lesser, but he also was uniquely able to experience things that might - and probably were - what is believed to be beyond his station.

Not that Orion understands any of that. Everyone should have access to all the luxuries in life. Everyone should have the equal opportunity to live the life that they envision for themselves. When something is so wonderful and pure - like opportunity, like freedom in all things - why shouldn't it be shared? Think of what good all of Cybertron could achieve should everyone have all the tools necessary to achieve greatness.

This day cycle, Orion found Breakbolt down in the market district of Kaon. It's lively and bustling with all sorts of mechs and femmes moving about. They barter and yell or laugh and shove playfully. Orion likes it here, likes to watch the faces of the bots around him. They aren't as blatantly joyful as they had been at the bar when Orion first came to Kaon and met Megatronus, but there was certainly more levity here than there was in general on the streets.

"I didn't hate it," Breakbolt says. "It was very different from Polyhex. But it was..." a great sigh. "It was supposed to lead us to a better life."

"I'm sorry, Breakbolt." Orion says mournfully.

Breakbolt wipes at his face, looking away. He mutters something under his vent, too soft of Orion to make out. He leans his head back against the bench, shutting off his optics for a klik.

Giving the older mech some space, his optics flicker around the bustling market, wanting so badly to look around it, to see all of the wonderful, interesting things that could be offered here. He spies some blankets and rugs at one vendor. He can see some furniture like berthside tables and storage containers at another. All sorts of energon goodies at another. And more. So much more that he couldn't see from his bench.

As his optics skim around the crowd, Teletraan pulses against his processor. "It's Megatronus."

Orion stiffens, focusing his sight, wondering how he could have overlooked the massive mech standing almost a head taller than the next bot nearest to him. He stands about a third of the market away from Orion, partially obscured by one of the stalls, and while he doesn't look upset or angry, there is something decidedly... unwelcome about the air around him. His posture is still, hands folded at the small of his back, with his spinal strut pulled straight, and he's scanning the crowd with those absolutely breath-taking optics that Orion just loves with an enviable cool indifference.

Next to him, is a smaller, slimmer mech. He's got sleek, smooth plates of a soft gray and maroon with sharp yellow accents and Orion would be blind not to see that the mech was beautiful. And yet, Megatronus met red optics with yellow, and just seemed... blank. His posture is loose yet not welcoming. His expression is smooth yet something about the distance he has with the smaller mech - just a foot or two - almost seems like a chasm separates them.

Megatronus's indifference is almost so plain that Orion can see it in the air around him.

"Yes, he does seem very indifferent to his companion," Teletraan echoes his thoughts. "I shall investigate."

He should leave him alone. This might be Megatronus's friend and Orion shouldn't bother him, but...

Orion so badly wants to talk to him. Wants to reach out and touch him. Wants to ask about his day if nothing else but to just hear him talk. To see those beautiful optics, to be graced with that Primus-gifted smirk.

He should leave Megatronus to his free time, but Orion is selfish. Selfish enough to take the chance to ask for his communicator number. Because as much as that ugly little voice in the back of his processor tried to convince him otherwise, a small part of Orion is still holding onto hope that it was all a misunderstanding and that if Orion asks nicely, Megatronus will give the truckformer his communicator number. That this waiting game will come to an end and they can speak to each other whenever they want, even if it isn't in person.

In person is preferred, but Orion will take what he can get.

"Breakbolt, I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay, sweetbot." Breakbolt rubs at his optics, letting out a tired sigh.

Orion pauses, momentarily distracted with his friend, looking Breakbolt over. He does seem to be doing a bit better, but the rust at the corner of his mouth still worries Orion. He's been adding all the healing metals that Ratchet had recommended to the energon that he's been bringing to Breakbolt, but he's not sure yet if it's enough to even help him. It might almost be time for Orion to insist on going to see a medic - just to make sure his friend is okay.

Gently, Orion runs a servo down his friend's arm. "I'll be right back."

Breakbolt smiles, touching the caressing servo before letting his rest on his thigh, optics still shut. "Ol' Breakbolt will be here, Gentle Orion."

Orion stands up, subspacing his cube and Breakbolt's finished one before moving through the crowd, optics still locked onto the larger silver mech. The light from Cybertron's star showing off the dark blue accents to Megatronus's armor.

Orion pauses about ten or so feet back, just taking a moment to appreciate the former miner. If he wasn't the most beautiful mech Orion has ever seen, he's not sure who would be. And suddenly, Orion's nervous again. What if he had been wrong? What if Megatronus was just being nice and Orion was now inconveniencing him? He should walk away. He should just accept that if Megatronus wanted to see him, well, he knew where Orion lived, so it wouldn't be that hard to find him.

Yet, he couldn't help himself. He missed the beautiful mech.

Timidly, not wanting to disturb anyone else - especially not the bot that Megatronus was with - he reaches out with his field, just enough to gently brush against the silver metal. Like at the bar, Megatronus keeps his fields pressed tight against his plating, so tight, even with the light touch Orion can't feel it.

But even with his back to Orion, and so many mechs around with their own fields flaring out, Megatronus tenses up. His shoulders roll back and his helm snaps around hard enough for Orion to cringe, pulling his field back in shame. He shouldn't have done that. That was too presumptuous. Ravage never minded it, but Ravage loved him. He should have walked up to Megatronus, or called out to him like a normal bot. Not use that sparkling-like method of getting a creator's attention while they were in discussions with other bots.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Teletraan studies his thoughts, his feelings, intrigued.

Megatronus turns, following the feeling of Orion's fields and before the red and blue bot can fall through Cybertron's crust into the core of their planet, those beautiful red optics find him. They morph from confusion to surprise, then, to Orion's tremendous relief, joy. And that smile, oh that beautiful smile, pulls harder on one side of his lips than the other, as he fully faces Orion.

The flushed truckformer awkwardly waves his servo in hello, still painfully aware of the ten feet or so, and bustling bots pushing in the space, between them.

Before Orion can even consider moving closer, he gets a short-wave ping from an unknown number. As it flashes across his HUD, Teletraan helpfully informs him, "It is Megatronus. I have already done an in-depth scan of its contents. There is no virus or malware detected."

Not that Orion thought there would be, but he brushed against his friend in thanks then softly hushed him. He can listen in, but he can't speak. Orion accesses the ping and adds the number immediately to his contact, sending his own in return.

Red optics, bright and beautiful, flare more at Orion's return ping. He calls Orion almost immediately.

::Hello beautiful,:: Megatronus's gravelly voice in Orion's helm makes his knee joints weak.

Flushing hard enough for the need to flare out his plates to expel heat, Orion turns away from Megatronus a bit to cover his face with his servo. ::You are very charming, Megatronus.::

Megatronus chuckles, smile spreading more. His posture is now entirely different, Teletraan supplies to him, and Orion sees it. More open, more welcoming. His servos now rest at his side, his head tilted down a bit to better meet Orion's optics and his stance looser.

::Primus heard me.::

Orion glances over at the large silver bot, lowering his servos from his face. He tilts his helm, curiously. ::Oh?::

:Yes, I was just thinking about you. I was hoping that I might be able to bring you here. I imagine it is nothing like the markets in Iacon, but I wondered if you would like to look around.::

Orion's spark flutters and he brings his servo up over his chest to keep it there. Megatronus's optics brighten. ::That's the thing, Megatronus,:: Orion says softly. ::There are no markets like this in Iacon. There are districts for entertainment and shopping but those are all buildings set up in strip malls. Not in clusters and tents like this. This is my first time ever seeing one like this at all.::

Megatronus's posture puffs up a bit, almost excitedly. ::Oh? I do hope that you and I will be able to explore this together. I know that you're already here and looking around - ::

::Oh, I'm not looking around! I'll wait for you!:: Orion cut off the larger mech without meaning to in his excitement. A little embarrassed, he goes up onto the tips of his pedes to see over the head of a few bots that sort of stopped between him and Megatronus, trying to keep their optics locked together. ::I'm just here with a friend!::

As soon as Orion commed that, he remembered Breakbolt - who he left sitting on the bench somewhere behind him - and Megatronus's friend, who seemed to notice just then that the silver mech was not at all paying him any processor.

"Megatronus?" The gray and maroon mech turns to look up at the gladiator. He steps around the larger mech to look right at Orion with bright yellow eyes. "Oh! Isn't he a beauty?"

Instead of agreeing with his friend, like Orion thought he would, as that was what the other mech had literally just called him, Megatronus's face twists in a sneer. It was completely out of place on his beautiful face with his lip curling in disgust that the other mech didn't seem to notice but had Orion flinching as a surprised jolt of pain ran through his chassis. The look is there and gone as something flashes in his optics, noting Orion's recoil.

::Orion - ::

::You are with your friend, Megatronus,:: Orion says, cutting him off. It's not like him. Twice now he's cut Megatronus off in the same conversation. He never speaks over people. He has to be more respectful, but he's too flustered, too embarrassed. ::I have to go. Comm me later, if you aren't busy! Goodbye!::

With a wave and a little smile, Orion cuts their connection and turns away, heading back through the throng of bots, feeling a weight in his chassis, somewhere around his spark. He didn't understand what he did wrong, what he did to deserve that look. It must be because Orion was cutting into their time together. Or maybe because he made some sort of disrespectful slip in Kaonite culture. He'll have to further study their ways so as to not make Megatronus upset with him.

Plus, he forgot that they were both here with other bots. And Orion left his friend alone to come bother Megatronus, keeping him from his friend. No wonder he would be displeased.

Orion didn't make it far, only to the edges of the tents, when he was scooped up, right off his pedes and pulled into a nearby alley. Which is no easy feat. He is pretty tall, and while he's not the strongest mech in the world, he is hardy. Denser than most his size just because he's a truckformer. So, lifting him isn't easy. He didn't have time to panic, though, as the bot holding him put him back on his feet and turned him around.

"Megatronus?" Orion gasps, blinking wide optics. "You scared me! What's wrong?"

Megatronus wraps his arms around Orion, hugging him close and burying his face into the cables of Orion's neck. "It wasn't for you."

"Oh," Orion says, placing his servos onto Megatronus's side, feeling it fill with every vent and empty with every exvent. "I'm... what? I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. What wasn't for me?"

"That look," Megatronus murmurs. "I was angry at him, not you."

"It's okay," Orion says softly, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Megatronus's armored helm. The larger bot sags a bit, in relief at Orion's gentle gesture. The archivist's field fills with adoration and acceptance for the other bot, letting it wash over his plating. "You can be annoyed with me. I was interrupting your time with your friend. I just really wanted to see you."

"I wanted to see you too, Orion," Megatronus says, pulling back to stare down at him with bright red optics. At his full height, Megatronus stands at a helm and a half taller than Orion was. His blue optics level with that powerful spark in the gladiator's chest. Orion's upper back presses into the side of the building behind him as Megatronus's servos settle on his hips. "And that bot is not my friend."

Orion's own servo rest on Megatronus's chassis, wanting to just feel the gentle thrum of that powerful spark under his fingertips. "I must have misunderstood."

Megatronus studies his expression. "I don't want to make it seem like there is something here that isn't. Wildside is not my friend. He is not a companion. He is not even an acquaintance."

Unsure of what else the bot could possibly be, Orion softly asks, "Lover?"

Megatronus was without seals when they met. He had experience. Other lovers before Orion. The red and blue mech isn't angry about it - maybe a little jealous if offered enough time to really think about it - but it is to be expected. Their lives aren't the same. Megatronus did not live the sheltered life that Orion did. He had lovers and jobs and went places that Orion hasn't. Just because Orion doesn't want to talk about how many lovers Megatronus has had before him, it doesn't mean that he's angry that the silver bot did have them. Megatronus had a life before Orion. It would be wrong of him to judge the other mech in any way for it.

And even if Megatronus had a thousand lovers, it didn't matter. So long as Orion now stood as the only one with him, he could forget about the rest. Be they figments of the past or even friends of the present. If Megatronus says that it is so, then it is so. Orion isn't at all interested in controlling Megatronus's life or otherwise dictating it. The most fascinating part of Megatronus is all that he is - whether Orion likes the parts or not.

"No," Megatronus snarls, lip curling in disgust.

Orion blinks up at the silver mech, unaccustomed to his anger. "I'm sorry," he says softly. He studies the rippling of the silver plates, the tension in the frame, a feral flash in his optics. Teletraan offers him the same conclusion that he came to. "I've hurt you. I didn't mean to do that."

Megatronus stiffens, looking down at him, before his field ever so slightly slides across Orion's. It tentatively pokes and prods, searching for anger or indignation. Anything negative. Instead, it finds remorse and shame. Megatronus's field reflects it back as he lowers his forehelm to Orion's, moving back enough so that Orion's servo move to hold onto silver arms, afraid that Megatronus will pull completely away from him.

"I'm sorry, Megatronus. I didn't mean to hurt you with my questions. I thought he was your friend. I didn't know..." Know what? He knows next to nothing about the other mech.

"Shh, my Orion," Megatronus rumbles, plates skittering a bit as if releasing tension. "It's not your fault. I am just angry that the two of you had to meet. Wildside is nothing to me but a client. Once upon a time, he and I shared a berth but..." His field flashes with confliction, then pulls tightly against his plating.

"But you fell out of love?" Orion asks innocently, looking up into those beautiful optics, watching as they go from guarding to soft.

"No, Orion. I never loved him. I never even liked him. I interfaced with him because I had to. Because he paid for my time and my trainer allowed it."

Orion recoils, slamming the back of his helm against the building behind him. He yelps as Teletraan hisses in his processor, assessing the damage. Megatronus pulls him from the wall against his chassis, holding him tightly. Even with the soothing sound of that massive engine and powerful spark in his audio, he could barely hear them over his racing processor.

"He made you - he... he... and you didn't have a... but he still... your trainer... that mech..." Orion couldn't find the words, couldn't formulate a cohesive thought beyond his horror. In that moment, Teletraan plucks a memory, back when they had first met, while they were talking, Megatronus had made mention about interfacing needing to be between two consenting bots. Orion hadn't even thought anything of it at the time, now it won't stop ringing all throughout his processor.

Megatronus holds him tightly, powerful engine in his chassis rumbling softly. "Save your tears, my hauler. I am beyond it now. No longer may my time be bought in such a manner. It's okay now."

Pain and sadness lancing through him, Orion pulls back enough to look up at Megatronus through wet optics. "It isn't okay! It should never have happened in the first place! I - I..." His face falls as one hand reaches up to gently pet at the face of the most beautiful mech on all of Cybertron, wondering now, with how many scars he could see, how many that he could not. "You are safe with me," he says, crying softly. "I'll never let them hurt you again. Never ever."

Teletraan studies this proclamation with interest.

Megatronus's face does something complicated - sadness, pain, resolution, adoration, love - before he hugs Orion to him again. "Oh, my gentle hauler. You will be my safe haven, then. You will be mine, and I will be yours. Until we are one."

Megatronus left not long after to return to a mech that used shanix to buy his time - but not his body any longer, which still hurts Orion deeply. But that was only after he finally managed to get Orion to stop crying. And that was with the most strut shaking, protoform liquifying kiss Orion has ever had. The adoration, the desire, the absolute dedication in the field that wrapped like a cyberviper around him. That glossa tangled up in his own, Orion couldn't even think straight.

"I chose this, Orion, remember that." There was something profound and powerful in that statement, Orion could feel it. If only his garbled processor would be able to compute straight enough to analyze it further.

Megatronus pulled back, appreciating what he had done to the red and blue truck before helping him steady his pedes beneath him, and heading off. Back to a mech that doesn't deserve a moment of his time.

Placated, but still a little sour by what he learned, he made his way back to Breakbolt. If the older mech noticed anything amiss, the way his field was vibrating with pleasure and sadness like a pendulum swinging between the two, and how lost in his thoughts he was, Breakbolt didn't comment. But he was so forlorn earlier, ladened with grief - "Like you are, Orion, when you think of your carrier," Teletraan had helpfully supplied - but now he seemed better. He was yammering away, holding tight to Orion's arm as they walked around the streets, away from the market district.

They parted ways as it grew dark after Orion offered - for the hundredth time, it feels - to let Breakbolt rest at his hab if he needed to, but the sweet old bot just smiled and ran a servo down his arm saying, "I've got to get to my hab, myself. My creation will be coming home from school soon."

Orion doubted it, but didn't say so. With the old bot promising to ping him when he gets home safely, as they've done every night cycle since they'd met, they go their separate ways.

Orion was in the wash rack a few groons later, getting ready to hit the berth when his comms pulls his attention. He answers immediately. ::Megatronus? Are you okay?::

::I'm fine, Orion. Did you make it to your hab safely?:: Megatronus's voice is smooth and even, as if everything that transpired earlier in the orn was all in Orion's imagination. A part of him wished it was. Like if he un-knew it, then it would stop being real. That those bots could un-hurt Megatronus as they did. It was foolish, but a small part of him wished it so anyway.

::I did. I hope you did too.::

::I did as well. I saw off Wildside and just got done speaking to Soundwave. I hope I didn't interrupt your time with your friend.::

Something loosens the strain in his shoulders. He lets his helm fall back against the warm tile as hot solvent runs down his frame. ::He and I parted ways a few groon ago. I'm just washing off the orn so I can go to berth.::

A shift and Orion could almost feel the wolfish smile as Megatronus purrs, ::In the wash rack, you say?::

Orion can't help the laugh that bubbles up inside of him, passing through the comm to the other mech. ::Yes, tease. But I'm not doing anything.::

::No no, I see you now.:: Megatronus's voice lowers into a rumble that makes Orion's leg struts feel a little weak. ::Leaned back against the wall, hot solvent running down your beautiful frame. Mouth open, panting and gasping. Those enthralling light blue optics staring down at me so bright with arousal. Your delicious valve under my glossa. Shaky servos on my shoulders, trembling thighs in my own servos. You offered it to me, Orion. You offered that tantalizing little valve to me when you rested your knee on my shoulder.::

::No... I...::

Megatronus purrs. ::You were so beautiful, Orion. Trembling and gasping. My designation falling from your derma in such reverence. Those shaking hips pressing into me, begging for more of my glossa to bring you over the edge. Your dente caught your derma, and those impossibly light blue optics turned white before you were brought there, right to the edge, but just before overload, do you know what you said to me? The first coherent thing you said to me since I got on my knees for you. Do you know?::

Orion, trembling and burning, shakes his helm. It takes a moment before he realizes that Megatronus wasn't in the wash rack with him. He was alone, despite the ghostly feelings running over his plates. ::N-No. I... I don't...::

::You pressed your sweet valve into my glossa with shaky hips and begged so sweetly, "Please." With optics whited out and charge crackling like lightning across your entire frame. And when you overloaded, oh that sweet cry that escaped you as you went from rigid to puddy, collapsing against me.:: Megatronus's voice is low and gravelly and it makes heat pool into Orion's valve and lower abdomen, as he remembers the feeling of that sinful glossa licking and lavishing, those dangerously sharp dente oh so gently nibbling at his anterior node. He could feel it now, ghosting over his plates, in his clenching valve.

::You... you said we... we were done... you weren't going to... to overload me again,:: Orion stammers, plates so hot he can hardly breathe, but his servo don't move towards his interface panel, despite aching hard to do so. He needed Megatronus to just appear out of thin air here in this wash rack. He needed that sinful intake to stop talking. He needed so badly to recreate that night cycle.

Megatronus chuckles, and the sound makes his abdominal plating tighten as his valve panel pings to open. A warning that he's overheating rapidly flashes across his HUD but he shunts it away, too busy trying to pay attention to the mech over comms.

::I know,:: Megatronus purrs. ::I lied.::

Orion groans. Losing the war within himself, a servo runs along his tight valve cover before another warning flashes across his HUD alerting him of critically high internal temperature. It's then that he realized Teletraan was growling disapprovingly in his processor, commanding that he turn the dial for the solvent on his own, or he'll do it for Orion. The red and blue bot scrambles to do just that, turning the solvent ice cold as fast as he can.

::You are trouble,:: Orion rumbles, letting out hot steam from between his plates. Teletraan is simmering in anger at him, probing at his processor, scanning it for damage. ::I just about overheated in the wash rack.::

::Oops, sorry,:: Megatronus murmurs, sounding only a little bit contrite. ::Next time don't answer my comm if you aren't prepared to get your engines revved.::

Orion laughs, letting the solvent cool down the rest of his frame and chase away the arousal before pulling back and turning it off. He climbs out and heads over to the drier, with a flair of his armor, letting it blast him with hot air until his plating and protoform are as dry as he can stand. Leaving the wash rack, he falls into berth and pulls his metal mesh sheet around himself.

After a beat longer, Megatronus asks, ::You're alright, though, right? Your systems are coming up okay?::

::Mmhm. I cooled down in time.::

A small sigh. ::Good. Despite my jest, I'm glad that you're okay. I'm sorry.::

::Don't be sorry, Megatronus. I enjoyed that. Next time I won't almost offline myself in the wash rack.::

As if unable to help himself, Megatronus purrs, ::Fear not, my vexing hauler, next time you won't be alone in that wash rack.::

A smile pulls at the corners of his derma. A small huff escapes him. ::You are such a tease, Megatronus. You leave me with these promises.:: A teasing smile crosses over his derma as he hears the rumble from the other mech.

::Just you wait, my hauler. My word is good.::

Orion laughs, affection warm in his chassis. He wished so badly to wrap his arms around the other mech. To hold him close and just feel him against his own plates. His hab feels cold and empty. Subconsciously, he reaches out for Teletraan, pulling his presence into himself, soothing the annoyed AI with affection and a bit of loneliness. Teletraan latches onto it, plucking at it and trying to tear it apart, remove it from Orion's processor, while huddling close. A silent wave of forgiveness coming from the AI - and a fierce dedication and protectiveness that wraps around Orion comfortably.

::I was very happy to see you this orn,:: Orion says after a klik, just listening to the soft venting of the other mech.

Megatronus rumbles a bit, pleased. ::I have been thinking about you since that first night cycle consistently. And kicking myself for the amateur move of forgetting to ask for your contact information. Soundwave got to hear me complaining about it for orns.::

Orion laughs around a weak yawn, relieved that they were in the same frame of processor. ::Me too. I was so upset. But I'm glad that I got it, though. It's been too long.::

Megatronus hums in approval. ::Seeing you this orn was a salve to my spark. I am sorry I haven't been able to come and see you sooner. Believe me, I wanted to.::

::I do believe you.:: Orion smiles, curling up on his side and wishing that Megatronus was there with him. Quietly, he continues, ::I wish you were here. It doesn't have to be for interface, although I suppose that would be nice.:: Megatronus chuckles a bit as Orion flushes. ::But to just have you here. Feel you with me. I realistically know that you can't be here for reasons, but it doesn't still mean I don't ache for it.::

Megatronus softly murmurs, ::I feel the same. What I wouldn't give to be there with you. To feel your arms wrapped around me. To feel your soft vents brush against my armor. Your servo - :: He stops, huffing a bit as if amused.

::What?:: Orion asks, fighting to stay awake. ::My servo, what..?::

::None of the others did it like you. You are very tactile, Orion. Always petting my plates. Touching so softly. Running your fingers along imperfections in my armor and treating them as if they were something precious to protect. Even as you recharge, you would lightly caress my plates. You're so loving. So tactile. And freely offer your affection.::

Orion rubs at his face, trying to wake himself up a bit. Sleepily, he murmurs, ::I... I didn't know that.::

Megatronus rumbles softly for a few kliks, then, quietly, he asks, ::Are you drifting, my hauler?::

Warm and content, Orion curls on his side into a loose ball. His optics tick off as his processor tapers a bit before he catches himself and powers them back on at a fraction of a percent. ::Yes... Your voice is so soothing...::

Megatronus lets out a little chuckle, warm and affectionate. ::So, I'm putting you to recharge?::

Orion hums softly, optics darkening once more. He sucks in a deep vent before letting it out slowly, murmuring, ::I wish... that you were here...::

Megatronus is quiet for a long klik, then with his voice fading into Orion's fading processor, ::I will be there soon. One orn you and I will spend every night cycle together. In the thralls of passion, or simply content to lie in one another's arms. Recharge well, my gentle, beautiful clerk. Until next we...::