Chapter Text
Chapter Six: And Afterwards………….
While the Lost Light was undergoing repairs, there wasn’t much for a Captain to do. Every time Megatron walked around, asking if he could help in any of the departments—he was chased away by someone, being told to “just relax, Captain”. On the other hand, Rodimus was still working in the medi-bay—sure, perhaps as only a clerk-slash-protonurse—so, he had plenty of work to do (and to keep him busy and not focused on his new protocols becoming active with the dropping of the newspark into the gestation tank)……..there were still people down there recovering from injuries. The medi-bay needed all the help it could get at the moment.
So, mostly, Megatron was working on reading through the various departmental reports. He even had one from the Sixshot of the one other universe, who had taken some sort of command of security over on the Lost Light, once he’d heard that the Trylians had attacked the ship—since he had more experience with the Trylians than anyone else on the Lost Light, Roller had actually encouraged it, given the situation. Sixshot was very thorough on noting all the damage on the outside of the ship and what Trylian weapons made it. Apparently the Decepticon was Rodimus Prime’s second-in-command [only] on his ship, when the young Autobot Leader went off and did intergalactic political and diplomacy things—he clearly took his work very seriously.
There was a chime at the door to the Captain’s quarters (that Megatron shared with Rodimus—they’d moved into the larger quarters quite some time ago) and the bulky grey mech barked for them to “enter”. As the work desk was at one end of the room, only vaguely facing the door (and Megatron’s optics were on the datapad in front of him), he didn’t see who it was. But he felt the anxious EM field and looked up. It was Brainstorm. Seeing this generally cool mech (even though he acted all excited a lot of the time, he was always a lot cooler than expected) with a frazzled EM field just bothered him—it wasn’t like Brainstorm at all, in love or not.
“Sit, please,” Megatron said, setting aside the datapad and leaning back in his chair. It had come as a surprise that the teal-and-white scientist was in love with Nautica—and asked for “date help”, basically. Like most on the ship, Megatron had assumed Brainstorm’s obsession with Perceptor’s attention meant that the mech had a thing for the older Autobot scientist. “My idea was to basically hide your request for a date in amongst a group style of party. I believe the Earthlings call such a thing a ‘mixer’—which is essentially a party in which partygoers are seeking hookups.”
“Okay. But…….” Brainstorm began, not even sure what he actually wanted to say.
“You’re going to need someone on your side to invite Nautica along to the party—a friend of hers, to encourage her to come. Also, bring a friend with you to the party,” Megatron continued. “One thing you should do while you’re there, watch her at the party for a little bit, too—don’t approach her right away, wait for a moment that looks right and watch to make sure she’s not actually interested in other people.”
Brainstorm startled. He never thought about that, that Nautica might actually have an interest in other people. Velocity said that her memories of Skids had been removed, so she didn’t remember her love for him—although her Spark still felt the loss strongly. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck a little anxiously. However, Velocity said that he should tell her—which meant that Nautica’s best friend felt she was ready to move on. Come to think of it, he could enlist Velocity for this scheme of a “mixer” party—the teal-colored medic could probably get Nautica to come to such a party rather easily. But who would he get to come with him?
“Do they have to be single?” Brainstorm asked. “The friend, I mean……..”
“No. As long as they’re not looking to hook up, they can just be there for a party, I suppose,” the bulky grey mech answered, shrugging his broad shoulders. “I know that Blaster’s been looking for a reason to host a party—so, I believe this would be up his alley to put together. He would definitely find the right mood music and themes as well. We’ll offer up the observation deck—it will be large enough for a shipwide party. You’ll just have to get whomever you’re going to ask to escort Nautica to make sure they steer her towards you at some point.”
“All right. Do I have to…….?” Brainstorm began, still a bit apprehensive about things.
“Don’t worry. As of right now, I have more time on my hands than I want to have—I’ll speak with Blaster about the party, then we’ll make sure to have some more official announcements across the ship,” Megatron responded, waving a black-colored servo dismissively. “We’re going to be down for a while. It may also be a way for Epistemus and his ward, Hot Rod, to get to know members of the crew in a more social environment. Censerre, as well—even though he’s been with us for awhile now, he may not yet know everyone of the crew in a social manner.”
“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of a hookup party?” Brainstorm asked.
“Well, I think—given this crew—hookups would happen at any kind of party,” Megatron responded with a soft sigh. “But I think having an environment to relax and set yourself free in will probably be the best thing for everyone right now. It might make the idea of ‘hooking up’ easier on people.”
Brainstorm couldn’t argue with him on that one. Since it wasn’t going to be a true “mixer” or “hookup party”—he felt he could probably safely ask Chromedome (and Rewind) to come with him to the party as his “wingmechs”. Chromedome was one of his oldest friends from Cybertron and he trusted the former police officer not to make a spectacle out of it, which would definitely not help any of the matters at all.
Just then, the room door slid open and both Megatron and Brainstorm looked towards it.
“Oh. Company. By the way—I’m moving to the couch to take a nap,” Rodimus said with a laugh as he walked over to the large couch by the window and laid down on it, pulling the blanket over the back across his frame. “I definitely could never be a full-time medic……….I don’t know how they can do it. I don’t mind being down there for a few hours here and there, but that could probably NOT be my career,” the flame-colored mech chuckled.
“I think I’ll go now, Captains—I’m glad we had this talk, but it doesn’t make me any less nervous at this point,” Brainstorm said, rising to his pedes. He headed towards the door. “But if I don’t do something soon, Velocity will threaten my life, so I’ve got to do this whether I’m ready or not.”
“That’s a good one—a medic threatening your life,” Rodimus laughed warmly, making a wave towards Brainstorm’s general direction. “Don’t worry, Brainy—it’ll work out. I mean, most of the relationships on this ship tend to—no matter how wacky they are!” He added, making a vague motion between him and Megatron.
Brainstorm chuckled and bade good-bye to them both and then left the room.
Megatron got up and walked over to the couch, kneeling down.
“Are you doing okay?” The bulky grey mech asked softly, reaching for one of his lover’s servos.
“Mmmm, yeah—some of my systems are going in stupid circles. I couldn’t get my internal temps to level out, so First Aid sent me to my room for a nap,” Rodimus murmured, glancing over at the big grey mech beside him. “For me to actually experience chills—you KNOW there’s a problem with my systems!” He smiled as Megatron held the one servo in both of his own, stroking it and patting it gently. “Did you seriously think I came here JUST for a frag? Well, I suppose my systems wouldn’t mind one………” he chuckled as he reached over with his free servo and lightly patted the side of Megatron’s faceplate. “But I really do need that nap, though………”
“Don’t worry, I think I can exhaust you enough for a nice long nap,” Megatron responded with a warm smile.
Rodimus had to choke back a giggle. He loved this silly former Decepticon Leader. Every time he was with Megatron, he felt incredible warmth—Megatron’s field was a comforting wall against his own. Just a short time ago, he’d been stuck with that Galvatron from another universe—who had a relationship with Rodimus Prime. Though he was a stubborn jerk—Rodimus got the sense of Galvatron’s loyalty and fondness for the flame-colored mech he had Spark-bonded with. And Galvatron’s EM field was different—but, in a way, he used it like Megatron did. Maybe that made sense—Galvatron WAS Megatron in the universe he came from, once upon a time.
“Hey, big guy—think we can shower or something first? Going back and forth between temperatures has me near-to-rusting with condensation,” the flame-colored mech said as Megatron just kept stroking his servo fondly and draping his EM field over them both.
“How about a bath?” Megatron said, his voice low and full of sensual interest.
Rodimus’ optic glass brightened with a soft blue. A bath? That was unusual………..especially given that the washracks were meant for showering. The fluids had minerals and agents to clean and wash away instantly. A bath would mean………..something more along the lines of water and soaps and sponges. Not something Cybertronians really indulged in at all.
“Okay. Back the train up………..a bath? How did you swing a bath on this ship?” The flame-colored mech asked, curiously, placing his other servo on top of Megatron’s holding his.
“That was a little craft project I was working on earlier today. There’s a lot of scrap around, because of the repairs going on—and a lot of excess water from some broken tanks. We have to refill those,” the bulky grey mech said with a sigh. “Once repairs have been made, we’ll get some supplies down on Eihlon.”
“Is that water safe, though?” Rodimus asked, a little puzzled.
“Don’t worry, the science crew checked it—and the bath is only a temporary thing, just a small luxury for the moment,” Megatron chuckled, rising to his pedes. “I thought it would be nice to do something different for a change—and since you’re changing, too.”
Rodimus was changing—not just his physical appearance, because of the coming sparkling, but his whole attitude about life. He spent so many millennia mired in sadness and hate—the root of all of it was the destruction of Nyon. He lost everyone and everything that he ever loved—he hated the universe and he hated himself for so long that he never even thought he could be loved and could love anyone or anything ever again. Rodimus never realized just how far he had fallen down into the Pit—and he’d never cared.
Until there was a moment in a dark movie theater—a holding of servos and an unexpected kiss. Megatron was his absolute opposite in every single way—and his perfect match. Someone stubborn enough to reach down into that darkness and hatred to save his very Spark and program. Someone who also needed to be saved, himself.
“All right, come on,” Megatron chuckled, leaning down and picking Rodimus up into his arms. He cautioned his sparkmate to leave the blanket behind and then walked them both to the adjoining room. It was meant to be an office, but was more or less used for storage at the moment—and would likely become a room for a sparkling as they got old enough to not be in the same room as “the parents” anymore.
At the moment, there was a roughly shaped “boat” of a tub from scrap metal that was primed for use as a bath. There was steam rising from it, so it was definitely pretty hot at the moment. That was when Rodimus saw a small generator beside it and assumed it to be a heating mechanism. There were already bubbles in it, so Megatron really had this all prepared for a bath and was clearly just waiting for Rodimus to show up. Megatron lowered Rodimus into the tub and then grabbed a towel to wipe off his arms.
“Okay, now I’m puzzled—I thought you were going to join me in here,” Rodimus said, frowning. Though, he had to admit—this heated water really felt really nice on his joints and derma.
“My flame—I am too big for that tub,” the bulky grey mech chuckled. “No, this is a luxury for you and you alone. I merely am here to provide an extra benefit to your bath,” he added with a sly grin as he picked up a sponge and grabbed a stool, sitting down at the side of the tub.
“’Kay,” Rodimus murmured. He knew that look of Megatron’s, he was about to enjoy doing some naughty things. Pervy oldmech. But, he couldn’t quite chide his lover—the bath was incredibly nice. And the attention was super-nice. And his protocols were already making him heady with anticipation of a good frag. “You know, I haven’t had a bath in probably a couple million years. It was a mission to……..well, that’s not important,” the flame-colored mech began and stopped.
It was a Wreckers adventure. And the natives of the planet had been so grateful to be freed from the Decepticon oppressors. The planet with almost one-thirds covered in hot springs. It was fun—and degrading—at a time when Hot Rod could’ve cared less about himself and what he let a bunch of amped up mechs do to his frame. He was in a better place now, with a better mech in his life.
“You’re still thinking some very dark thoughts there, Rodimus—is there anything I can do to stop you from thinking these things?” Megatron asked as he reached down and laid a servo on the small of the flame-colored mech’s back and pushed him forwards to start scrubbing a little on the back of his lover’s neck cabling.
“Time, I guess. I mean, we’ve both gotta keep meeting with Airazor or Magnus will kill us,” Rodimus chuckled softly. For a moment, he thought about what the Rodimus Prime from the other universe said to him—how seeing his sparkling for the first time would be the greatest thing he could ever experience. Maybe that would also heal the last few vestiges of darkness inside of him—the hatred he still felt towards himself for sacrificing Nyon, all of that might finally be purged.
“True. But we both have some of those things to still get through—we’ll be there for each other,” the bulky grey mech responded.
Rodimus wrapped his arms around his knee-joints and gave a deep sigh as he allowed Megatron to gently scrub his back. This was pretty nice, though. Showering in a rack was fine and all, but this was really soothing and Megatron was scrubbing gently in places not often gotten to by one person showering alone. It was actually nice and soothing.
“I’m going to scrub around your spoiler fins now, sorry if it’s a little rough or a bit too much for you—please bear it for a little bit,” Megatron murmured.
“’Kay,” Rodimus murmured as a gentle motion went straight up the center of his spoiler. He shivered a little and felt a twinge between his legs. Megatron’s digits pressed the sponge lightly beneath the fins, between the fins and his back. The flame-colored mech offlined his optics and savored the gentle scrubbing. The sensation of his valve both heated up and tightened. “Um, I know you told me to bear it but………..eeeee!” Rodimus keened, just about twitching violently enough to seize up his limb-joints.
And Megatron had to gall to just laugh at that. Then a kind servo patted him on the head, Rodimus thought for a minute that it was just like what that Galvatron from the other universe did, except for the fact that the other servo kept rubbing the sponge on the spot that really revved him up. The servo that patted him on the head slid down to his chestblock and Megatron lifted Rodimus up without effort.
“You pervy oldmech!” The flame-colored mech whined, not really as offended as he appeared to be.
That sponge on his back was suddenly between his legs, scrubbing gently at his groin-plating. And before Rodimus could even tell his frame to behave, his panels slid open and that sponge was on his mesh. Megatron was still holding him up with one servo, so ridiculously easily. Rodimus reached out and grabbed the edge of the tub for extra support, mewling softly with pleasure. Megatron slowly eased the sponge up around the anterior node and rubbed lightly, in soothing circles. It made Rodimus keen softly as his valve tensed up and squeezed rivulets of lubricant out.
Megatron grinned deviously as he slid the sponge up along the underside of Rodimus’ partially-erect spike. That earned another high keen from his younger lover. So, that encouraged Megatron to wrap the sponge around the spike and gently squeezed it as he rubbed it. Rodimus gasped and whimpered, his valve clenching hard and squeezing more lubricant out of it.
“You can let go any time you want, my beloved,” Megatron purred softly, still easily holding the slender mech up with one servo as he scrubbed the flame-colored mech’s spike energetically with his other.
Just as soon as the bulky grey mech said it, Rodimus felt his overload shudder through his frame and he went limp as he panted softly. Then Megatron gently changed his grip on his lover and lowered him back down into the tub. Rodimus leaned back and left his optics offline as he incycled and exvented a deep breath and relaxed into the heated water.
“Don’t ever change, big guy…….you’re too great,” the flame-colored mech chuckled softly.
“Let me finish up with your front and then we can do something a bit more physical out in the berth, mmmm?” Megatron said, dipping the sponge back into the water and squeezing it out a few times to rinse it, then he put some more scrubbing soap on the sponge. He reached down and placed a firm servo on Rodimus’ back, lifting him up easily, with his crazy strength.
“Aren’t you going to tire yourself out?” Rodimus teased as Megatron used his free servo to scrub around the flame-colored mech’s chestblock and waistblock.
“Nonsense, you’re quite light—likely because of your racer frame,” the bulky grey mech chuckled fondly. “Mmmm. I can see that your derma’s getting a bit stretched here, I suppose the gestation tank will be growing sooner than we know it,” he said, rubbing the sponge gently over Rodimus’ exposed abdominal derma. He noted the sudden brightening of the flame-colored mech’s biolighting and knew that he was starting to arouse the younger mech once again. ‘I had better finish this up so that we can interface—or else he might get upset at overloading again without interfacing…….’ the bulky grey mech thought.
Megatron finished his scrubbing and then lowered Rodimus back down into the tub to rinse him off. Then he hauled the flame-colored mech up to his pedes and reached for a large, fluffy towel. Rodimus grabbed the larger mech’s face and dragged it down for a kiss. Megatron chuckled inside and relaxed into the kiss, wrapping the towel around his younger lover’s frame. Rodimus thrust his glossa into Megatron’s intake and swirled it around as he pressed his frame up against the bigger mech’s.
“We are going to the berth, aren’t we?” The flame-colored mech asked as they parted from the kiss.
“Of course,” Megatron reponded.
“I want your spike the moment we’re there—enough foreplay, okay? If you make me overload again before you’re inside me, I’m going to punch you in the face,” Rodimus grumbled as Megatron picked him up, wrapped in the towel and all.
“Understood, my flame,” the bulky grey mech chuckled, warmth flowing through his EM field.
He laid Rodimus down on the berth and then rolled him over to get the towel free, that left the flame-colored mech down on his front side. Rodimus was about to turn over, when a servo laid flat on his back and held him down. Megatron chuckled softly and told him to just relax and remain face down on the berth. Rodimus felt Megatron’s weight on the berth, as the mech straddled him and pulled his hips up.
“I’m glad you left your panels open,” Megatron said, pressing the tip of his spike against his younger lover’s mesh, gently. Then he thrust hard, making Rodimus gasp in surprise. “Mmmm, you always feel so good inside, Rodimus—warm and soft. And those calipers clenching at my spike—very nice indeed,” he purred, gently.
Rodimus couldn’t say much to hit back about that, because if there was anything Megatron was really good it—it was hitting all the right spots inside of him during fragging. His brain was slowly shutting down any rational intelligence and moving right to the instinctive pleasure. His protocols were thrilled at being fragged and it made his frame loosen and tighten in all the good ways that made interfacing feel so right. But even more so than all the physical and the protocols—Megatron EM field wrapped around him as they made love was worth everything. Megatron was worth everything. He overloaded before he even knew it, his valve clenching hard around Megatron’s spike.
“Oh, we’re not done yet, my flame,” the bulky grey mech murmured in his audial, pulling himself out and turning the flame-colored mech over. He saw Rodimus looking up at him curiously, his blue optic glass glowing bright. Then he lifted up the slender mech’s hips and lowered his face to nuzzle the damp mesh lips gently.
“Oh, no……..wait a minute…….you………” the flame-colored mech stammered softly.
That was when Megatron’s glossa delved deep into the folds of his valve and Rodimus gave a soft keening sound. And then Megatron stopped right before the younger mech reached a plateau of no return. The soft keening turned into a disappointed whine. Rodimus reached his arms up towards the big grey mech and whimpered softly with need. Megatron knew he couldn’t tease his younger lover anymore—it would be cruel, especially when he felt so much love and need in Rodimus’ EM field. He leaned down, pressing the tip of his spike against the wet valve lips and kissed Rodimus’ condensation-damp forehead.
Then he thrust hard as he wrapped his arms around Rodimus. The younger mech clung to him and whimpered desperately as Megatron’s hips thrust against him and the spike hit all the nodes inside of him that made him feel oh-so-good. As Rodimus overloaded, he went limp in Megatron’s arms and started to slip offline into sleep. Megatron leaned the flame-colored mech back down onto the berth and grabbed the towel to start wiping off all the condensation from the younger mech’s faceplate and shoulders. He smiled as he heard Rodimus make some kind of soft, sleepy murmur.
“Rescalia,” Rodimus murmured, just before he turned over to his side and went completely offline.
Megatron pulled back, puzzled. What was “Rescalia”? It sounded like the name of a planet, but could also seem like the name of a Cybertronian. Maybe it was the name of an alien being? Then Megatron saw moisture in the microseams of Rodimus’ optics—it couldn’t be condensation, he had just wiped off the flame-colored mech’s faceplate. Those were tears. Rodimus was crying over this “Rescalia”—whatever “Rescalia” was. But who or what was it—and why was Rodimus crying over this now?
Well, Megatron certainly wasn’t going to wake Rodimus up to ask. It was best to let his lover sleep, at the moment—especially since he said he came to the room for a nap in the first place. For now, it was best to just let him sleep. The big grey mech reached around for the blankets and curled up against his younger lover. He wrapped his arms around Rodimus and exvented a deep sigh. Whatever this was could wait—they were going to be down for awhile and then had to have a few strategizing sessions to decide what to do next anyways. Maybe, by then, Rodimus would be ready to talk about whatever this “Rescalia” was. Until then, it was best to let Rodimus rest and tell Megatron more when he was ready. Until then.