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It was Optimus who proposed the tradition. It was Megatron who accepted the request. Every vorn since the war ended, Autobots and Decepticons gathered in the Hall of Accord to trade gifts.
They were simple tokens of goodwill, reassurance that the truce held firm. A full decade has passed since. Ten years of uncomfortable speeches, polite applause, and gifts that were half-hearted at best and petty revenge at worst.
But this year? This year was supposed to be special. It was the tenth anniversary afterall.
...
Starscream's heels clicked against the floor, carrying a box in his servos, hips swaying. Megatron's optics narrowed, looking up from a datapad that vaguely read something among the lines of "Cultural Exchanges".
"Lord Megatron~!" The seeker called fearlessly, leaning his waist against the desk. He bent over, talons tapping the flat plane. "What is it, Starscream?" The former warlord growled, irritation bubbling from his tanks.
He was busy. There was no time to toy with the ever annoying presence when there is work to be done.
"Oh, it's something very important, my lord!" He dropped the box with a loud "thunk!"
Megatron's optics drew towards it, raising an optical ridge.
"And what is so important you've decided to interrupt me while I work?" His voice was neutral, but venom silently dripped from every word.
Starscream shuddered, flight wings twitching. "As I'm sure you remember..." He began, smiling. "...Tomorrow is the annual exchange with the Autobots."
Megatron stiffened. There was the unmistakable sound of a datapad cracking. The seeker smirked imperceptibly. With all these reports flooding in now that the other colonies were coming back to Cybertron, it was highly likely the Decepticon overlord wouldn't remember.
It seems he was right yet again!
"Oh no, my lord! Did you actually forget?" He questioned in mock worry. "Of course not!" Megatron snarled, pushing all his reports aside and standing up. "I already have a gift ready..!"
Starscream took a step back, hands on his hips. Did lord Megatron really have a gift? He internally bit his lip. This plan wouldn't work if that were the case! And he didn't have the patience to wait another vorn to execute it!
"Whatever it may be, it must be excellent! Though I'm sure you'd appreciate this as well," he said, smiling despite the inner tension readying to burst out. He pushed the box towards the silver mech.
Megatron grunted, grabbing it. "What is it?" He asked in suspicion, apprehensive. What scheme was his second in command planning now?
“Human cultural attire. The Prime will see it as respect. He does love those little humans.” Starscream shrugged nervously. Megatron opened the lid and regarded the glossy leather without expression. "I didn't realize humans had clothes in our size..." Megatron muttered.
"They do not, but they have a plethora of materials. I had Knock Out make this," he pulled the article of clothing from the box, unfurling to reveal it in all its glory.
The neckline plunged low, the hips were cut high, and a black bow sat primly at the collar connected by a thin, near transparent dark gray mesh. Megatron grimaced, pinching the top with both clawed tips when Starscream offered it to him. There was still yet another piece left waiting inside, a pair of elongated ears.
“I've not seen any humans we've encountered wear this kind of attire,” he pointed out, staring. "Trust me, my lord! Only the most respected humans wear such clothes. I'm sure Prime will love it! You’ll make quite an impression on him.”
The seeker winked. The former swallowed the solvent pooling in his mouth. In reality, he did forget about the gift exchange. He didn't have anything prepared.
With barely concealed embarrassment, he coughed to clear his throat, averting his gaze. "Very well. Since you took the time to help prepare it, I will use it."
Starscream gave a closed optic smile, but inside, he rejoiced.
Across the line, the Autobots were up to similar mischief.
“It’ll be fine,” Sideswipe insisted. “Cats are a symbol of grace. He’ll appreciate it!" Optimus stared at the black leather with a neutral expression. He, who never thoroughly learned the art of suspicion, accepted the explanation. “Is that so?" There was still a little bit of apprehension on his faceplates. The garments looked tight. Would they really fit on Megatron?
Rodimus patted him on the back. "I have no idea what it is but I'm sure Sideswipe is right. Come on Op!" He exclaimed with a grin of his own. Ratchet and Arcee watched in one corner of the room.
"Should we really be letting them do this?" Arcee crossed her servos together, amusement in her gaze. "Oh what does it matter? Just let them!" Ratchet rolled his optics, sighing heavily.
At worst, Megatron would be offended. That was better than someone getting injured. The last gift exchange nearly restarted the whole slagging war because some genius had the idea to put lit fire crackers in a box.
Their attention was caught when even Jazz joined in. "Looks good to me. I think you should do it after all, Optimus."
With so many mechs saying so, the Prime finally nodded. "If that is the case, then I will. Thank you." He had been a bit troubled trying to come up with something this vorn. Hopefully Megatron likes it.
The others congratulated themselves in advance.
Before long, the next cycle arrived.
The hall was dressed casually with simple banners, polished floors, and drones hovering discreetly in shadowed corners to record the event.
Everything was as it should be....besides the slight snickering from both sides.
Optimus and Megatron stood before each other, each holding a carefully wrapped gift. As leaders, they were to initiate the start of it. Neither lost their composure as they exchanged the parcels.
"I hope it's to your liking..." Optimus whispered, flushing slightly. Megatron tensed, pedes fidgeting. "As do I..."
Ratchet facepalmed. Here goes nothing...
They opened them. The hall went rigid, waiting with bated breath. Both regarded the contents, optics narrowing fractionally in confusion. From the Autobot ranks came a barely stifled chuckle. From the Decepticon side, a snort. The commanders looked up at once.
Optimus inclined his helm. “Ah..it seems we had the same idea.” Megatron mirrored him. “It seems we did...” There was a long, awkward pause. Then, with the solemn determination they had when the war started, they came to the same conclusion—a gift is to be honored.
To the bewilderment of both factions, they took the plating tight suits, shuffling the contents in their servos. It was already a surprise that both had near identical gifts, but this?
Megatron held up the cat ear headband curiously, raising it to his helm. "I..is this how you wear it?"
Arcee held back a burst of laughter. Oh Primus, they can't be this oblivious can they!?
Her expression changed when both of them left the room to "change". "Oh slag, they are. Uh, Ratchet?"
The medibot sneered. "A memory for the historical records," he chuckled darkly. She decided then and there to take a moment to re-evaluate her life choices.
Right outside the entrance to the hall, Megatron pulled the leather up to his waist before realizing, abashedly, that he would need to shift his panels for this to work. He was tempted to stop then and there, but looking up, he noticed Optimus already fully clothed.
And, as embarrassed as he was, his competitive nature would not allow himself to be outdone, especially not by the Prime. Besides, it would still be covered.
He spoke, voice measured. "I need a moment.” He left to find a more private area, the heavy tread of his pedes fading in the background. Optimus fumbled with the bunny shaped headband in his servos curiously in the meantime.
...
Starscream had been waiting for this moment all cycle. Well, Optimus having the near same exact gift was a little unexpected, but it didn't dampen his mood. In fact, he felt better than ever!
He grinned gleefully, servos clasped behind his back.
In mere moments, the great and terrible Megatron would stride out in that absurd piece of leather nonsense, and the entire hall would see him for what he truly was, gullible and ridiculous.
Starscream could hardly wait.
Knock Out, standing next to him, noticed first. "I was wondering why you asked me to make something so salacious," he said, shaking his helm. "You're going to regret it, Screamer. Don't you take even a moment to look at them?"
Starscream rolled his optics. "Come now, Knock Out. There's no way in the Pits anybot could look good in that."
"Whatever you say." The red medibot shrugged.
The room went silent when they heard the "shk!" Of the doors sliding back open.
The first thing they all noticed were the helm accessories. One long the other short, framing their heads proudly.
The next thing were the tail-shaped extensions. One long, lazily trailing behind. The other short and puffy, cute in its splendor.
The leather stuck ridiculously snuggly to their frames.
Optimus blinked, still holding one of the floppy ears between his fingers. He tugged at the collar of his outfit
“Is it…comfortable?” He turned to Megatron.
Megatron turned his gaze low to look behind him, pursing his lips. The thing was digging into his aft. What kind of insufferable human thing caused them to make something like this?
The slight turn had Megatron's backside stick out, the leather curved down to a V that left very little to the imagination. Someone made a faint choking noise at the sight.
"It's fine," he muttered, brows furrowed.
It was then they both realized the hall was dead still. Curiously, they looked up. Knock Out covered his mouth, optics wide. "Oh, that is illegal. Starscream, I must say. Of all your ideas, I think this is the best one," he teased, oggling the two leaders appreciatively.
The laughter Starscream had been holding back died before it even left his lips.
"No. No. Absolutely not!" The seeker flushed blue, practically running out the door. This was not the way things were supposed to go!
It didn't take long for another to follow. Sideswipe maybe. Rodimus too. Jazz stayed, biting his bottom lip with a smirk. "You look like the measure of grace, Prime," he announced loudly, discreetly patting low to the taller mech's hips.
Megatron growled, stepping slightly closer to Optimus.
Jazz held out his servos. "Woah there! No need to get all antsy. I think the parties over anyway. I'll be takin' my leave too," he reassured.
"What? It just began—!" The Decepticon overlord looked up into a now emptied hall. "...???"
When he turned back, even Jazz had gone silently.
Optimus and Megatron looked at each other blankly. What just happened?
"It seems..the event has concluded.." Optimus tilted his head. "I can see that," Megatron replied bluntly, crossing his servos with a huff. "Should we return to work then?"
Optimus nodded, his bunny ears bouncing slightly with the motion. "Yes, we should." But neither of them moved immediately. Instead, they stood there, facing each other in their ridiculous outfits, the tension between them strangely charged.
Megatron took a step back then, almost like he was going to leave, but Optimus gripped his servo. "Wait."
It had been some time since either of them had been left alone. They had already cleared their schedule completely in anticipation for this all cycle event.
"Mm?" Megatron replied softly, his tail swaying slightly. He looked down at those servos wrapped around his own, then back up at Optimus' face. He saw that the bunny-eared leader had his jaw tight, deep in thought.
"Nobody is here and..." The Autobot leaned closer, almost hesitant. "It's been some time since we've had any time together. Alone."
Megatron's processor ran through a slew of scenarios before something seemed to click into place. He uncrossed his servos, letting them hang loosely at his sides. "Ah."
He searched around, finding a table to rest his weight on. Optimus ran his optics up and down his frame, swallowing. He should thank his autobots. The human clothing they recommended really was quite nice.
A smirk played at the corners of Megatron's lips, amused and aroused by the Autobot's obvious appreciation. "Come here, Prime."
Without hesitation, Optimus closed the distance between them. His suit brushed against Megatron's own leather-clad form as he stood between the Decepticon's spread servos. He leaned down, one elongated ear brushing softly against Megatron's cheekplate.
Megatron placed his fingers under Optimus's chin, tilting it up. "If you want to do, then do it. Since when did we put limits on one another?"
"Never," Optimus confirmed softly, nuzzling his forehead against Megatron's chin. He had no such limits. No shame or hesitation. He could spread those powerful thighs and shove himself deep inside Megatron right now if he wanted. He knew the warlord had no objections to that at least.
But instead, he just stayed there, pressed close. It was oddly sensual.
The silver mech chuckled, feeling endeared by the way Optimus rubbed against him like an anxious pet. "I guess there is no need to rush." They had the whole cycle to themselves.
"Mhm," the red and blue bot hummed, his hands sliding up Megatron's servos to rest on his shoulders. He slowly began to rock his hips gently against the mech's leg.
"This...feels nice."
The Decepticon nodded, hugging the Prime's helm and pulling it into his bosom. "Nh..I can't help but agree," he murmured, flushing slightly.
Optimus let out a soft purr at the affectionate gesture, the floppy ears flattening against Megatron's chest. The warlord's warmth enveloped him, making his systems feel satisfied and content.
He started to grind more deliberately, the small stuffed ball that acted as a tail swishing behind him. "Megatron..."
"Mn...ah, yes?" Megatron managed to reply, letting out small moans in between.
Optimus trembled, heat crowding around his spike housing. "Do you want me to frag you right here?" He asked softly, his voice low and husky. Megatron liked it when he was direct and down right dirty.
He had gotten used to it after the 5th session. It was too good not to.
The slightly taller mech shuddered. "Slag Optimus...yes," he said breathlessly.
Without further delay, Optimus lifted him up by the aft, placing him on top of the table. One servo snuggly rubbed the smooth leather where his valve panels should be. "It barely covers anything."
Megatron hummed, averting his gaze. "Who but you would look down there anyway?" He grumbled sheepishly. Optimus frowned, envy coiling in his tanks. "More than you would think, my love," he kissed the mech's inner thigh, trying to hide his displeasure.
The Con bit his bottom lip, eagerly waiting. Primus was this unexpectedly hot.
The bot spread his thighs wider. Optimus saw slick soaking the leather already, the way sensitive mesh spread around the material in some twisted, sexy way when he did so. "You're already wet."
Megatron tugged at the invasive leather, not enough to pull it from between his folds, then began rubbing clawed tips against it. "For you," he heaved.
"For me," Optimus parroted, his spike housing feeling particularly tight as the offending valve folds swallowed the intruding garments.
"Do you want me to remove this?" He asked after a moment, replacing the mech's hand with his own.
Megatron purred, squirming. "Hagh...! You're such a fragging tease, Prime," he growled, lifting his hips to meet each delicious rub.
"I'm just observing," Optimus replied innocently, pressing harder against Megatron's array, occasionally touching the exposed areas.
Then he pulled his digits back just enough for a trail of lubricant to follow. "You're already so drenched it's leaking through," he pointed out, smiling softly. "It's cute enough I'd prefer to simply stare."
Megatron whined, his valve contracting around it. "Y-you're making me even wetter with your teasing," he accused, his hands reaching out to grab Optimus's arms. "Stop playing and just...just take it off already!"
He was getting frustrated. Rubbing alone isn't enough. He wanted those fingers thrusting inside him. To be impaled on a large spike. Optimus's spike..! He just wanted something to penetrate him!
"Love, calm down," Optimus soothed, but his optics flickered with amusement. He slowly pulled the high cut base away, freeing Megatron's glistening array—fully exposed and throbbing with need.
The sensitive mesh spasmed, clenching in anticipation . "Prime...inside! Spike me, please!" It was humiliating being reduced to a begging mess every time, but he never managed to stop.
Optimus chuckled softly, optics hooded. "So impatient," he murmured, finally sliding two fingers inside. Megatron moaned loudly, his callipers clenching around those thick digits eagerly.
The first point of contact nearly made him overload, solvent pooling in his mouth and sliding down his faceplates. "Ah..! O-op..musss~~!" His words slurred, servos gripping the tables edge.
"Shh," Optimus hushed him gently, pumping his fingers in and out with an infuriating slowness. He added a third, stretching them apart.
Loud moans turned into incoherent whimpers and pleas for more. Lubricant massed beneath in a constant stream.
If Optimus didn't know any better, the copious amounts of lubricant would've made him think Megatron really did overload.
He groaned at the sight, pulling his fingers out temporarily just to watch Megatron's valve contract desperately around nothing. "Look how empty it is. It looks sad and lonely without something inside it."
"T-then something...?" The Con attempted to push his own digits inside. Oh he looks so hot, the false cat ears folded into the picture of cuteness, the suit accentuating his curves.
Truly a gift worthy of his lover. He regretted ever letting Megatron stride back into the crowd wearing it.
"Primus." It felt like his cooling systems were malfunctioning, scrutinizing Megatron trying to finger himself.
Those cat ears were flopping cutely with his movements. Engines purred, powerful thighs spreading to give him a show. Megatron pushed his fingers deeper between his slovenly callipers, sensually dragging his other servo from his midriff up to his neck.
"Does it look good?" He asked hoarsely, his optics locked onto Optimus's face. He waited, wanting praise
Optimus's patience snapped. He shifted his spike housing away, revealing his massive, hard length. "Ngh, Megatron...!"
He grabbed the former warlord at the waist, positioning his spike at the dripping, very much empty entrance.
"I can't..wait anymore! Amazing...you look amazing," Optimus praised. Megatron managed to laugh mockingly. "I knew you wouldn't, you slagging—Ahnn~♡!"
The Autobot turned him around so his front was against the table, slipping the swollen tip past the first rim. He was aided by the lubricant coating everything in a slick mess
Optimus maneuvered his servos to massage his plush aft, enjoying the sensation of kneading it. Or was it "making biscuits" as his human compatriots liked to call it?
Megatron's fingers scrambled against the table's surface, claws scraping the metal desperately as Optimus began to push deeper. Solvent dripped freely from his open maw.
He pulled his leg strut onto the flat plane, mewling. His other pede trembled against the floor to keep himself upright.
Optimus moaned, leaning over him as he began to thrust in earnest. The cat ears flapped, catching his attention once more. He felt a strange urge to stroke the Decepticon's helm, spike snapping back and forth.
"You feel so good, Megatron. Your valve is so tight and wet for me," Optimus groaned, his hips slapping against Megatron's aft. It bounced and rippled with every thrust.
Megatron warbled, lifting his lower half higher to meet each rough impetus with a roll of his hips. "P-Primmeee..! More, plea..se!" His words slurred again.
Optimus complied, gritting his denta. "So beautiful, my darling," he called out endearingly.
He pulled the mech back. The table shook with the force of their coupling, hands moving from narrow hips to a broad chest, squeezing and groping, lying himself completely on top of his back struts.
"Optimus...Optimus, Optimus...!" Megatron chanted like a broken record, his optics rolling back. He could feel every ridge, the way that spike curved up and touched his ceiling node. It was always on the cusp of breaking past the barrier leading to his gestation tank.
He wondered if today would be the day.
Megatron's thoughts were a jumbled mess of pleasure and frustration. He wanted nothing more than to be sparked by the Prime, to carry their young together forevermore—but Optimus always stopped just short of crossing that line into sacred territory.
"Optimussss♡!!" Megatron cried out again, his voice breaking on the last syllable. He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't hold back any longer. His internal systems overloaded with pleasure, his sensors firing off like crazy as he reached his peak.
Hot fluids spurted out from between the spike still thrusting inside and his wet, spasming valve.
Optimus let out a surprised grunt as Megatron's callipers suddenly tightened like a vice around his spike, milking it desperately.
The next moment, he groaned deeply, his hips stuttering as he felt the hot fluids coating his length. "You're so filthy," he murmured, supporting Megatron's limp head and pressing soft kisses against his neck.
He snapped his hips forward again, making the Decepticon overlord whine and jerk.
After a klik, he closed his optics, shuddering as he pulled out. Thick strings of lubricant followed, leaking with every pulse as it spilled down Megatron's legs.
The former warlord slid onto his knees without anything keeping him pressed against the table, claws gripping the edge to keep himself from falling flat on his face.
"P-Prime?" He looked up, confusion littering his optics. His appearance was the very picture of charm.
"Shh," Optimus soothed, stroking his helm. He knew that look—Megatron wanted more. He always did. But Optimus had his own ideas. "You came already, sweetspark. I don't want overwhelm you."
Megatron glowered. "You can't decide that on your own, you fragging glitch," he cursed angrily, shoving the gratification of overloading to the back of his thoughts. Overwhelmed!? Who would be the one overwhelmed!?
He grabbed the Autobot's servo, pulling him down while lifting himself up, pushing his frame on top so their positions were now switched.
"Megatron!" Optimus exclaimed in surprise as the Decepticon straddled him aggressively. His hands instinctively went to Megatron's waist to stabilize him, but the mech was already grinding down impatiently against his still-hard spike. "Stop—!"
He stilled the moment he noticed the coolant pricking the corners of Megatron's optics.
"Megatron...?"
The tears streamed down the mech's face faster than he could wipe them away. "Fragging...stupid...!" He grimaced, turning away.
Optimus felt his spark twist at the sight.
He sat up, wrapping his arms around Megatron, holding him close. "Shh, love...look at me."
He tilted Megatron's chin up, wiping away the tears with his thumb.
"Am I not good enough for you?" Megatron questioned, voice lined with static.
"Nonono! Of course you are!" The Prime panicked, pressing their helms together. "Then why do you always do this?" Megatron shuttered his optics, unable to stop himself from leaning into that warmth despite how angry he was.
"I'm sorry," Optimus apologized. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way...I was simply scared," he admitted.
"Scared?" What in the Pit would he be scared of?
"I'm afraid I'll spark you by accident," Optimus confessed quietly. Megatron blinked, processing that statement. Then he pulled back and stared at his lover incredulously. "Optimus," he began.
The Decepticon felt an undignified surge of confusion and embarrassment.
He had been dropping hints for the last few vorns, trying to communicate his desire without being blunt, but it seems Optimus never seemed to get it.
He dug his thumb against his forehead, trying his best not to facepalm in frustration.
"For the love of Primus," Megatron snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Do you not understand the meaning of no limits? Do I really have to spell it out for you!?" He grabbed both of Optimus's servos tightly. "I WANT TO BE SPARKED BY YOU!"
Optimus's optics widened in shock, his processor freezing as Megatron's declaration registered. He stared at the silver mech, his mouth opening and closing before he finally found the will to speak. "You...you want to get sparked? By me?"
"I want you to spark me until I can't think straight! Until I'm so overwhelmed with pleasure that I forget my own name!" Megatron's voice rose in frustration. "I want you to hold nothing back, Prime!" The tears were forgotten over the sheer disbelief.
Optimus was taken aback by Megatron's outburst as the words sank in. He had been so focused on his own fears and insecurities that he hadn't picked up on the mech's...now that he thought of it, not very subtle hints and desperate pleas. "Then..."
"Then what!?" Megatron challenged. "Are you finally going to give me what I've been begging for, or are you going to keep denying me out of some misplaced fear!?" He leaned in close, his optics blazing with intensity.
One servo was wrapped around the pressurized spike, priming it in preparation. It twitched longingly as the Optimus stared at the way callipers responded to the action.
It was then he realized how selfish he had been, holding back while his lover was right there, wanting, needing. He reached up and cupped Megatron's face gently. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
The mech hummed softly. "Glitch..." The silver mech muttered, changing his position so he was lying on his back. "Frag my chassis, Optimus. Give me a sparkling already." He reached down and grabbed Optimus's hand, guiding it to his entrance. "I'm ready. I've been ready."
It clenched, burning. So...crude. So tantalizing.
Optimus couldn't believe he had been so blind. "I am a glitch, aren't I," he muttered to himself as he positioned his frame between sprawled legs.
All those times he held back were for nothing. How could he have been so stupid?
He pressed the tip of his spike against Megatron's entrance, feeling the familiar wetness and warmth that always greeted him there. But this time, there was a sense of finality.
"Hold on to something."
Megatron immediately wrapped his servos around Optimus's neck, holding on tight as he braced himself.
Right. No more limits. Optimus vented deeply, shutting his optics lids before snapping them open again.
"Optimus..." Megatron whispered warningly, feeling the sudden shift in his lover's demeanor. "If you're going to go soft on me again, I—!"
Optimus cut him off by suddenly slamming inside, bottoming out in one brutal thrust. A choked cry escaped Megatron's vocoder. He felt the Autobot's servos grope his aft and lift him up, the leather material of their outfits rubbing against each other.
The cry dragged into a moan as he was held up and dropped onto that sublime spike. Then again, and again, and again. The Prime's usual gentleness was completely gone, replaced with a ferocity that Megatron had only ever dreamed of experiencing.
He loved the gentle lovemaking. He really did. But the feral, near painful intensity was more to his liking.
"Yes...yes...!!" Megatron cried out, utterly enamored.
Optimus grunted, pushing the mech back to the floor once more, hiding his expression in the base of his neck. "Nh..hah!" He panted, his pace changing in ways that had Megatron guessing every next move.
From fast, shallow thrusts, to deep slow passes. Megatron's processor was filled with nothing but one thing..overload, overload, overload!
His frame vibrated as overload after overload passed through his systems until the only noise leaving his lips were incoherent sobs, chassis riding up and stopping only because he had grabbed one of the table legs.
Optimus bit down on his neck, metal joints creaking from the effort of nonstop pushes and shoves. He felt the dampness touch his face and lifted his head to kiss the coolant away, proud to note that the tears were from pleasure this time.
The Con's optics fluttered shut as Optimus continued his relentless assault on his insides. He felt like he was being torn apart and rewritten. "Too much...too good...Optimus...♡!!" He choked out, trembling.
"I've...ah! Got you, sweetspark," Optimus reassured, hugging him close. The tight ring of Megatron's valve stretched with every pull and tightened when he pushed back in. The sight of it, the downright vulgar noises it made, sopping and loud, made his systems buzz.
By the time he even managed to hear the strange sound in the background, it was too late. He pulled back, shivering in anticipation. He had waited for this moment for so long—although that was his fault—and snapped his hips back in, helm tilted to stare at the ceiling as his optics sparked from the pleasure.
The fat tip finally broke past the barrier, flooding the Decepticon's gestation tank.
"Ha-aghh!! Yes, ahnn..frag! Yes♡!!!" Megatron keened, back arching off the floor.
Transfluid and lubricant splattered everywhere, covering his torso and Megatron's spread legs. He kept going, trying to extend the sensations for as long as possible until it faded into nothing but ringing in their audials.
The former warlord collapsed with Optimus following quickly, completely blown out of their processors.
Their frames rose and fell rapidly, circulating air through their vents.
"H-how was I?" The Prime asked, panting. "Ngh..♡" Megatron didn't have the current capabilities to respond properly.
After several more breems passed, he managed to sit back on his haunches, lifting Megatron's limp form to nuzzle their helms together.
The silver mech sighed, stiff as a board. How many times did he overload? He wasn't sure, but did it really matter? He was in absolute bliss. "Are you alright, my love? Did it take?" Optimus asked, worried and excited all the same.
"Hmmph...Mmfff...♡" Megatron mumbled. The fluid inside him was warm and sticky and there was an awful lot of it, a spike still lodged inside him to plug the following from spilling out. His midriff felt heavy and full as he willed a hand to rest against it.
"It took," he confirmed.
Optimus smiled, his optics lighting up with joy. "I'm glad," he whispered, initiating another kiss to Megatron's lips. He pulled out, watching as the valve stretched with the movement, they way the Decepticon groaned into the kiss.
Fluid dripped from between soaked folds and onto the floor.
It stayed partially open even after he pulled out completely. Megatron felt utterly used in the best possible way. "Washracks?" Optimus suggested, blushing now that he had regained some sense. Oh Primus...they interfaced in the Hall of Accords.
There was mortification, but also a deep sense of gratuitous satisfaction.
"Washracks." Megatron nodded in agreement.
...
Later, Optimus realized the strange sound he heard earlier had come from the recording drones. He was simply glad it was not a live recording, otherwise he wouldn't be able to face anyone after displaying something so obscene and personal to the public.
At least he now had a personal recording and a newfound appreciation for human clothing.