Chapter Text
“Oi, Megatronus. We’re boarding.”
Indifferent ice-blue optics stared ahead into nothing. Large forearms rested on his knees, servos resting with linked digits bridging his arms together. His optics flickered before said mech rose to his pedes, optics briefly offlining before flickering back on. He cared not about what that blithering idiot had to say, the day coming closer and closer where he’d offline the fool for good. All he was good for was promotions and getting Megatronus from A to B so he could spread the word.
A revolution was on the rise. The time to end the oppression of the lower castes and bring rise to a revolution that would topple over the old geezers that sat in higher places.
Megatronus was about to step into the doorway's path until Rattrap stopped him. Megatronus’ already foul mood deepened, and he was ready to tear his helm clean off his shoulders. He turned to him with sharp denta clenched in a barely controlled rage. His servos were balled into fists, nanokliks away from unleashing his famed wrath on the hapless idiot.
“Is there a problem here?”
Megatronus turned at the voice, ready to tell them to mind their own damn business. That was until his optics were graced with the most beautiful mech he had ever seen. All previous thoughts evaporated into thin air and faded into oblivion.
Doey, round blue optics watched the two mechs quarrel, flanked by two other mechs who stared at them in disdain. Megatronus straightened. He didn’t like them one bit. They radiated the greasiness and slime of all the elders of Cybertronian society. His gaze focused on the mech in red and blue, watching Megatronus curiously. They appeared to be of an upper caste, likely from Iacon. What could they possibly be doing in Tarn?
“A question was asked, you filth.” The mech on the left snarked, causing the shorter mech in the middle to raise a servo. He looked to his left, expression becoming frosty in an instant. Gone was the adorable curiosity, replaced with an icy and guarded expression.
“Sentinel, I told you that is not how we speak to others, regardless of their caste. If they don’t want to answer, that is their prerogative. Why don’t you think about that long and hard and keep your intake shut?”
Megatronus’ optic ridge raised in interest. Oh, now this was interesting. Megatronus’ processor was shooting information a mile a minute, rapt fascination growing by the second. Megatronus took a step forward, the mech’s eyes focusing on Megatronus once again. He would have stepped closer if not surrounded by perverse senators, resisting the magnetic pull from the shorter mech.
“There is no problem here, I assure you. I apologize for my assistant's idiocy.” Megatronus ignored his assistant's insulted gasp, relishing the small giggle that escaped the mech’s intake.
“Mine aren’t any better,” the smaller mech replied in return with a breathless little laugh. His intake opened in a small gasp as his servo was lifted to the larger mech’s dermas. He kissed the topside of his servos, his optics not leaving his own for a second. “I am Megatronus. And you are…?”
“Orion,” Orion replied almost too quickly. He swallowed, ignoring the curve at the corners of Megatronus’ dermas. “Orion Pax.” Damn, he sounded way too eager, like a sparkling.
“A pleasure, Orion Pax. Are you also boarding?”
“Y-yes…we’re heading back to Iacon.” Ah, he was right.
Orion was utterly taken by this mech, their attraction instantaneous. It was addicting, a heady thing that couldn’t be ignored. He had never encountered such a quick attraction, which was somewhat intimidating. But he wouldn’t dare say he didn’t enjoy the attention he was getting from Megatronus. He was big, handsome, charismatic, and he didn’t shy away from what he wanted. He went for it with zero hesitation. He came to Tarn to watch the gladiatorial battles, hearing about a particular gladiator rising in the ranks and protesting the system. He was precisely, but also nothing of what he heard about.
He wanted to meet him, so he went to Tarn. He just wasn't expecting to meet him right now. He also hoped to go alone, not stalked by Sentinel and Halogen. To the council, Orion was merely their little pet. And the more Orion read about Cybertron's history, the more wary he became of the council and the current powers in charge.
Megatronus’s optics twinkled in amusement. He let go of Orion’s servo as he turned around and entered the ship. Orion felt his spark rate skyrocket faster than during the entire exchange when he heard Megatronus's intent at his reply. It was low, meant for only his audials to hear. “Then that means I’ll be seeing you again.”
Orion ignored the glares the senators were giving Megatronus, boarding the ship without giving them another glance, watching the back of Megatronus' helm.
Yes, you most definitely will.