#spreadwardiardfics

The hot, yet soothing tingle of his self-repair system’s nanites tending to the aching wounds of his frame was what finally brought Orion’s processor back online. His awareness floated slowly in and out, only able to sense the slowly ebbing pain signals from his damaged frame. His helm throbbed aggressively if he so much as even attempted a thought. It was reassuring, however, that each time Orion’s awareness floated back to him, he ached a little less and that his thoughts were able to come more freely. 

Where was he? Even without his full processing power, he knew that he was not in the safety of his berth. Accessing his memories did little to answer that question. He recalled Megatronus contacting him about a train, and he could remember that he had indeed left his hab, but beyond that, his memories were still too damaged to retrieve. The only option available was to allow himself to float away once more and allow the nanites time to continue their repair.

When he next came to awareness, it lacked the gentle ebb and flow of before. Rapid flashes of his most recent memories assaulted him in waves: coming online to an unexpected call, Megatronus’ unexpected declaration of affection, his walk to the station, boarding the train… 

His processor throbbed as if it would burst while the emotions tied to his memories crashed into effect: confusion, worry and then fear. Orion’s optics shuttered online just as the panic hit him. He sat rapidly, causing his helm to spin and his optical input to become distorted. 

“Shield your field!” The command was hissed at him with quiet urgency, and Orion clamped down on instinct. He brought his servo to his helm and groaned softly as he rubbed at his closed optics with his palm in a desperate attempt to placate the pain in his processor. 

“What happened?” Orion croaked out softly. Behind him came the soft shuffling of small pedes, and before Orion could even process what that meant, his companion was at his side.

“There’s no time to explain, Can you walk? It isn’t safe here.” Orion reset his optics, and slowly opened them once more, relieved that his inputs were no longer spinning. He was surrounded by broken glass and crumpled sheets of metal, dangerously sharp. Strips of soft mesh cabling dangled from above him, some slowly dripping fluids that he couldn’t identify. 

Orion’s optics finally found his companion. He ex-vented in relief as he was struck with recognition. Ravage observed him with a raised optical ridge, and the look on his face gave Orion the impression that the cassette hadn’t expected him to come online as suddenly as he had. 

“I think so?” Orion whispered through his grimace as he felt the stiffness in his hydraulics as he shifted his weight, to maneuver onto his knees. A flurry of diagnostic pings assaulted his HUD, alerting him to several injuries that were, luckily, non-critical. 

“Good. We need to leave. Now.” It was a command, and one Orion thought almost sounded laced with fear. Ravage darted forward, his cyber-feline frame having no issue ducking beneath what appeared to be the mangled remains of a bench that had been partially ripped from the walls in the crash. 

It wasn’t especially difficult to maneuver his frame through the small space, but it did ache like the Pits to crawl his way through what was left of the compartment. He was dangerously low on fuel, that much was obvious by how exhausting it was to hold his frame and move at such an angle. 

That also explains why my nanites did not complete my self repair. Orion thought as he dragged himself forward through the jagged remains. By the time his helm popped through a crushed window, he was venting heavily, and his arms shook with the strain of holding up his weight.

“Hurry. We don’t have much time.” Ravage paced nervously outside the wreckage, his optics constantly scanning around them. Orion begrudgingly hauled himself free from the shattered window and grimaced as he stood, taking only a klik to allow his optics to adjust to the increased light before following the cyber-feline between two hunks of deformed metal. 

Orion almost couldn’t believe the utter devastation around him. Smashed bits of transport compartments lie crumpled as far as he could see. Mutilated remains of Cybertronians were scattered haphazardly about, some obviously crushed by impact alone, while others looked…. Gnawed at, as if something had consumed them. 

He’d never seen anything like it before, not even on his long deep-dives into the darkest reaches of the data-net. Orion’s tanks churned, hot and sickly sweet, at the thought of what could have done damage like that. Some of those bodies were completely eviscerated… 

Orion focused his optics on Ravage, not wanting to see any more of the surrounding carnage than he had to. This was beyond wrong.  His internal chronometer told him that he had been offline for several cycles, which should have been plenty of time for rescue crews to have saved not only him, but everyone else strewn around. Surely, the Transport Commission would have sent a crew to clean the debris off the tracks. 

It seemed that he and Ravage were the only two living mechs around. But if that were the case, what had Ravage so anxious? It was painfully obvious as Ravage led him through the debris field, zigzagging to stay in the shadows of the rubble, that he was trying to avoid them being seen, but from whom, Orion couldn’t begin to guess. 

It seemed like the rubble stretched forever. The closer they came to the front of the train, the worse everything seemed to be.  Train compartments were smashed against and piled atop each other in such a disordered way that it almost could have been beautiful. If only the place wasn’t littered with corpses and plastered with splattered energon.

“Hey!” A panicked voice called out to the pair, causing Ravage to startle and Orion’s helm to whip towards the source of the sound. A young mech, pinned at the waist beneath a large scrap of steel, waved frantically at them. “Oh! Thank Primus, you’re not one’a them…” He could see the fear that emanated from his optics and the stains of dried optical lubricants painted down his face. 

Orion thought nothing of it. His internal processes immediately flooded him with coding to provide aid. He rushed towards the trapped youngster, ignoring the pings flooding his circuits from his injuries. He wasn’t that far from them. 

“Pax! Stop!” Ravage called out to him in a harsh whisper, his frustration evident in the slight growl lacing his command, but Orion could not heed that request. Not when his coding so persistently urged him to help someone so desperately in need.

“You gotta get me outta here! They’re coming!” A wall of hunger assaulted the archivist’s EM receiver, unlike anything he’d ever felt before: thick, desperate, and driving. Something was coming, that was for sure, and Orion had a feeling that whatever it was, was the same thing that had caused all the carnage he’d been trying to avoid looking at. He had to get him out fast, or he’d be torn apart, just like the corpses littering the whole area. 

A weight slammed into him from behind, sending Orion careening face-first into the ground. Ravage hunched atop his back and hissed furiously into his audials. “There isn’t time, Pax! They’re here! We have to leave him!” 

Orion lifted his helm, anger coursing through his circuits like an inferno. He opened his intake to retort, but was frozen solid in fear when a shambling mech, painted in red and gold, tumbled down from atop the hunk of metal pinning the youngling down, landing with a ground shaking thud. Chunks of his armor were missing from his frame, and Orion immediately recognized the same thick, green goop oozing from his intake and down his front as he saw the drunken mech purge before the crash. 

The youngling screamed as the mech shambled towards him. Ravage jumped, and suddenly was in Orion’s line of sight, their faces nearly touching,

“We have to go now! More will come!” Ravage pushed his entire face against Orion’s aggressively, an obviously desperate attempt to push him up onto his pedes. The youngling’s field erupted suddenly in a hot, sickening burst of panic. “There’s no saving him now, Pax!”

Orion couldn’t remember getting to his pedes. Everything happened so fast. The shambling mech grabbed the youngling by the arm and mercilessly tore at the plating. Another mech, covered in the same putrid ooze, shambled forward from the shadows, and Orion’s processor flooded him with a new command: Run! 

Ravage was two steps ahead of him on that front, and Orion instinctually followed the cassette as he swiftly led them away, even passing more of the shambling, rotting mechs that were hobbling towards the source of the screams. 

The youngling’s field projected his agony and fear of death far beyond the wreckage field, and by the time the screaming stopped, Orion was venting far too heavily to even notice its absence. He ran until the pressure building in his hydraulics overpowered his internal command to flee. 

His HUD flashed red. He was overheating, and his hydraulics couldn’t continue at the brutal pace that his survival coding had forced on him. He had to stop. His frame shook from the overexertion. He couldn’t stop the anguished screams of that mech from playing on loop in his processor. If he’d had any fuel in his tanks, he would have purged it all right then. 

“Snap out of it, Pax. We can’t stop now. We’re almost there.” Ravage’s annoyed whisper broke through his inner turmoil. Ravage was right. He couldn’t afford to stop. Not when those things were out there, likely to follow them once they were finished with-

No! Orion forced the thought out of his processor and forced his legs forward, despite the stinging pressure and pinging diagnostics. He wasn’t ready to return to the Well just yet. He was grateful that Ravage accepted this slower pace that his frame now demanded. 

They were following the tracks. Orion hadn’t noticed when they were running. All he was able to focus on was Ravage and trying to keep up with the far nimbler cyber-feline. He wasn’t even entirely certain how far they ran before he stopped, and he absolutely was not about to turn around and find out. 

When they finally stopped, it was at what appeared to be an empty Emergency Depot. They were scattered relatively regularly along the various strings of transport lines around the planet. Ravage led him inside, and as soon as the door snapped shut behind them, he let out a furious hiss. 

“Don’t you ever do something that slagging stupid again! You almost got the both of us killed!” Orion jumped away from his smaller companion and opened his intake to respond, but Ravage gave him no time to do so. 

“I will not die for you, Orion Pax.  Do you understand me? If you pull something like that again, I will leave you behind! I don’t care if you’re Megatronus’ favorite upper cast plaything. You ain’t worth dying for!” 

It was like the very air was sucked from his vents. Orion deflated, his gaze falling to the floor and his finials lowering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know” 

Ravage sighed dismissively and flicked his tail. He said nothing for a few kliks, but Orion didn’t want to think about why. He had too many other concerns vying for his attention. His tanks ached with their emptiness, and his frame felt heavier than he’d ever remembered it being. He ached deeply, down to the protoform, and he still had no clue what was going on. Overshadowing all of that was the fear that clawed at his spark and made him wish he’d just slipped into stasis instead of coming online to this nightmare. 

“Frag… you’re a real piece of work, aren’t you, Pax?” Ravage said, but his tone was gentler than before. It made Orion think of when he was a sparkling, annoying his caretakers for attention, which, unfortunately, didn’t make him feel any better in the moment. 

“Megatronus just told me to get on the train. Ravage… is he alright?” The cyber-feline rolled his optics and turned to slink deeper into the building. Orion had no choice but to follow, making sure to close and lock every door they came through, just in case. 

“I don’t know. Comms are down all over. I can’t even contact Soundwave.” Ravage huffed softly at that. “I found this place about 2 cycles ago. There’s some energon rations stashed in the back, and some mediberths if you need to recharge. They, uh… they haven’t come back. They tend to hang around the crash.” 

“The rations taste like scrap, but the packaging says it's nutritionally complete,’ whatever that means.” Ravage shrugged, and hopped up onto a sofa in the dimly lit space that Orion could now see was a lounge of sorts, probably for the mechs who normally were stationed here. 

Orion couldn't care less how the rations tasted. His tanks demanded refueling, and his coding told him that he would feel better all over if only he could get something into his him. He tore into them, devouring one after the other. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was, or how much his systems had been starving for the power to simply function. It took four entire ration cubes to satiate him. 

The effect struck almost immediately once he lowered his last cube to the floor. His self-repair routines rebooted, and he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge for recharge. He didn’t even try to make it to the mediberths. The lounge sofa was much closer, and right now, it looked like the most comfortable thing on the entire planet. 

Ravage only huffed softly as he hopped down from the sofa, and up onto the adjacent chair, where he curled up in the way that cyber-felines did; curled in a ball with his helm tucked under his tail.

“We can’t stay here.” Orion said, his voice just above a whisper. His processor was fighting against the wave of recharge that was crashing over him, forcing him to think about how close those things really were to them, and mixing those thoughts with how much he wished Megatronus was here… 

“Not for long, no.” Ravage glanced up at him, with a raised optical ridge, his tone dry and tired. Orion tried to keep his optics focused on him. 

“I promised him I would get there.” Orion’s vocalizer started to slur his glyphs, and Ravage tilted his helm and scrunched his optics in confusion. 

“Promised who?” Ravage’s tone said that he really didn’t care. 

“Mega…” Orion’s optics shuttered closed, and he in-vented deeply to quell the anxiety that still bubbled behind the coding trying to force him into recharge. 

The cyber-feline snorted at that and laid his helm back down. 

Orion frowned and forced his optics back open. There was still too much data he needed to understand what was happening around him. 

“What happened to everyone?” 

Ravage sighed at that question, and lifted his helm to meet Orion’s optics once more. 

Orion woke slowly, the edges of consciousness still unable to grasp reality. The persistent pinging on his private comm link, however, was quickly forcing his processor to rouse from his dream state to deal with it. A part of him hoped that if He just ignored that ping long enough, it would cease, and he could slip back into his dreams. His wish was not granted. 

The pinging continued, and finally he roused enough to note that he had only been in recharge for a couple of joor. It was well into the night, far beyond what would be considered polite to call someone. Orion groaned softly as his optics came online. He had always been one to recharge deeply and come online slowly. It was an unfortunate side effect of processing so much raw data for the Archives. 

The pinging stopped and Orion sighed audibly in relief as he rolled over onto his side to try and drift back to his dreams, only for the pinging to resume abruptly. Obviously there was no escaping this. He sluggishly pulled himself into a seated position, and rubbed his optics slowly as he finally took note of the data attached to the caller: MDT-425-B-D-16.

Megatronus? That was odd. They had just spoken at length, right before Orion had drifted into recharge. Orion wondered what could possibly be so important that it couldn’t wait until he came online in the morning. 

He accepted the call and put his best effort into sounding as if he were more awake than he actually was. 

“Megatronus?” Orion inwardly flinched at how much he had failed in his efforts. His voice was deep, and slow in the way that only showed with exhaustion. 

“Orion?” He heard some shuffling come across the connection, and he heard Megatronus mutter something under his venting, that sounded suspiciously similar to ‘thank Primus.’ He was about to open his intake to begin to jest at him for that, but Megatronus did not give him the time. 

“I need you to listen carefully. In approximately two and a half groons, there’s a train coming directly to Kaon from Transport platform 3-5B. I need you on that train. Do not pack. Just get up and get on it.”

Orion frowned as he took in Megatronus’ words. This wasn’t making any sense. 

“What are you-” But Orion couldn’t finish his question. Megatron cut him off with urgency.

“There’s no time for questions. I promise, I will explain everything when you get here.” Something was wrong. Orion’s tanks churned with unease. “Promise me that you will get here, Orion.” 

He didn’t have time to think, his legs were moving without his conscious consent, pulling him out of the comfort of his berth and into the unforgiving chill of his apartment. “I promise, Megatronus. Please, tell me what this is about.”

“I wish I could. There isn't time.” Orion paused only for a klik with his servo hovering in front of the access panel to his door. He was still largely trying to wake up. Hardly any of this was making sense. He half wondered if he was recharge-walking and this was all a bizarre dream, but Megatronus continued to speak. “I love you, Orion.” 

“I love-” the distinctive click of a comm being dropped slapped him in his audials. “-you too…” 

Orion was suddenly left with an agonizing silence. He felt too alert for this to be a dream, and yet none of what was happening made any sense. He locked the door behind him and sluggishly made his way down the long hall of his building towards the elevator. 

Megatronus said he had two and a half groon to get to the station. As the elevator lowered him down to ground level, he did the calculations in his head to determine if he could make it there on pede or if he’d have to use his alt mode. As long as he didn't stop, he should be able to make it. Using his alt mode would take up too much energy anyway. 

Orion rubbed his optics once again as the elevator dinged, and he stepped off and out into the street. The air was cool against his plating, a sensation that he normally welcomed as it aided him in recovering from his recharge cycles. This late into the night, however, the chill left him wanting to turn around so that he could crawl back into his berth and nestle himself in the warmth of his thermal sheets. His pedes continued to take him towards the station, despite his desire for more rest. He had promised Megatronus, after all. 

It wasn't an especially long walk to the station: he just had to take a left three blocks down by the local pub, and then a right two blocks from there. The route was as familiar to him as his route to the Archives, by this point, which was an excellent excuse for him to allow his frame to fall into auto-pilot mode to get him there. It took up much less of his energy that way, and would allow him to stay firmly planted in his half daze between being fully alert and slipping into recharge. If he could maintain it then he'd be able to slip right back to his dreams as soon as he sat on the train. The thought brought a smile to Orion’s face. 

If he recharged on the train, he would be fully ready to come online just before they reached Kaon. He’d be rested and fully ready to tackle whatever issue had come up that Megatronus required his assistance with. It was the perfect plan… if this wasn’t all a strange dream, that is. If he had dreamt up this entire encounter, then he would at least be able to claim a surprise visit. 

The further down the sidewalk his pedes took him, the more he was convincing himself that this was a dream. Megatronus’ call had been eerily similar to the one he had had just a deca-cycle ago. The Megatronus in his dreams had used the guise of urgency to lure Orion to kaon for a romantic date that had started with dinner and ended in the fantastical way that dreams tend to do, with them dancing together amongst the stars themselves. 

Orion was pulled from his memories by a shrill, yet far off scream. He paused in his steps as his finials twitched, to try and locate the source of the sound. Wherever it had come from, it was far from his location. There was no time to investigate, and it was highly probable that the situation was already being dealt with by Iacon’s dutiful Enforcers. Even so, he found that it put him a bit ill at ease.  

With quickened pedesteps, Orion continued his trek and felt slightly more at ease once he rounded the corner by the pub. He’d never gone inside, but it was a well known landmark in his neighborhood, where many mechs would congregate at the ends of their shifts to unwind. It was strange to see it this late at night with no music or boisterous laughter emanating from within its walls. The audial absence made the area feel cold, and lifeless. Unwelcoming. That is what it felt like when the streets were silent and the city largely in recharge. 

At least the station wasn’t much farther. Once he got on the train, he’d be able to relax and the odd foreboding feeling that comes from walking alone in the dark would pass. He’d be able to slip back into his dreams, and he and dream space Megatronus would dance amongst the stars to pass the lengthy journey. It was a perfect plan. 

He could already see the welcoming lights at the front of the station, and he hurriedly crossed the street, a bit more eager than he expected to be to step into a well lit area. The station was nearly deserted, but that was to be expected at this late time of the night. That was fine by him, that only meant that the line to purchase a ticket would be as well. 

Orion was not disappointed. There was only one mech in line, and by the time Orion’s pedes got him there, it was already his turn. 

“Archivist Pax, its-zzz great to see you again. Heading out to Kaon again? There’s a train about to leave.” The mecha behind the glass was smiling at him, but Orion couldn’t help but notice the viscous optical lubricants leaking slowly from the mech. 

“Ah, that’s right. Can you add my designation to the roster, or am I too late for that?” The service mech raised his servo in a polite gesture. Orion had always been on friendly terms with the mechs at this station. He valued their hard work and commitment to getting everyone where they needed to go, and he tipped them well once he received his bill at the end of each stellar cycle. 

“Anything for you, Archivist Pax. There we go… You’re all set to go. Better hurry, you’re cutting it a little close.” Orion uttered a quick and polite thank you as he turned towards platform 3-5B.

The whistle blew loudly, and Orion cursed softly under his venting as he started to run. He’d come too far to have to turn around now. The service mech was absolutely correct in that he was cutting it close. The doors shut immediately after he boarded the front compartment, and he allowed himself a heavy sigh of relief as he took his seat towards the middle, giving him plenty of space between him and the other passengers. He only jostled slightly as they began moving.

He already knew that slipping back into recharge would be impossible. After that eerie scream and then having to run, he had fully entered wakefulness. The trip would take about four joors. If he was lucky he’d be able to recharge for half of that now and there was no way he’d be able to slip into a romantic dream again, after how strange everything had been since he’d been ripped from recharge. 

It wasn’t normal for Megatronus to call him like this, outside of his dreams, of course. He’d been too tired before to really think about it, but now that he was awake… Megatronus had sounded less urgent and more concerned. He sounded worried…

A loud groan shook him from his thoughts, and he glanced towards the front of his compartment, towards a mech that looked as if he were about to be sick. He had his helm between his knees, and the mech beside him had a servo on his shoulder.  They must have been some of the last patrons of the pub, probably on their way back to their work duties. 

Orion looked back to the ground between his own pedes. It was rude to stare, and he had other things to think about anyway. Like the strange tone Megatronus had on that call. How he had made Orion promise that he would make it to Kaon… how he had said that he loved him…. 

Megatronus never expressed his affections in such an open manner, especially over spoken comms. They had already agreed that they would put their romantic attachments on hold until after they were able to plead their case to the Senate. There was too much at stake to be distracted by their feelings for each other. 

A heavy, twisting feeling began to settle in Orion’s tanks. Something must be wrong.  Megatronus had said there wasn’t time to explain, but Orion had nothing but time now. He accessed his contacts, and set up a secure, private line, opening a comm link to Megatronus, ready to get to the bottom of this. 

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa:: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

That… was strange. What was going on? Had Megatronus blocked his commlink? That made no sense, especially after that cryptic and worrying last call. Perhaps Megatronus’ private line had been hacked? It was unlikely, but possible. He could try calling Megatronus’ public line, but that had its risks as well… He tried the private line again. 

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

Perhaps trying the public line would be the way to get through. He had to sort this out, or he’d be an anxious mess this entire trip. He vented deeply, preparing himself for an audial full for not using the secure line to call but… 

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

That unsettled weight in his tanks surged. This wasn’t normal. Was Megatronus alright? Had something happened to him? Was that concern and worry in his voice because he’d been fatally injured? Orion felt himself begin to spiral, and couldn’t stop himself from immediately trying to reach Soundwave next. The two weren’t exactly close, but Soundwave knew of he and Megatronus’ arrangement, and thus would understand Orion’s concern. 

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

Orion then recalled the audible click that had cut him off and ended his previous call. He’d assumed Megatronus had simply ended the call a bit prematurely, having said what he felt he needed to say. But now… Had comms gone down?

A harsh retching drew Orion’s attention back to the drunken mech in the front of the compartment. He looked up just in time to see him purge his tanks of a thick, lumpy, viscous dark green goop. The mech beside him groaned in disgust, but immediately leaned in to assist his companion.  “Get the frag-zzz away from me!” The drunken mech half yelled and half slurred. 

Orion didn’t stick around to see what the outcome would be. He was unarmed, and barely armored. He couldn’t afford to lose his life in a drunken brawl when he and Megatronus were finally making progress with their movement. 

Orion made his way to the back of the compartment, and quietly slipped through the door, intent on making his way to the rear of the train, as far from this scuffle as possible. He passed by the security station in the middle of the train, and informed them of the problem that was brewing in the first compartment. They quickly thanked him, and they parted ways.  

By the time he made it to the last compartment, he was ready to slump into the closest seat he could find. If he was perfectly honest… That was disturbing. He’d spent a lot of time with Ratchet, and had gone over his fair share of medical data. He was no medic, but he definitely knew that purging your tanks wasn’t supposed to look… like… that. 

He’d never seen anything like that before. But maybe Ratchet had? If it was something medically significant, Ratchet would want to know what he saw. Yes, comms to Kaon were obviously not working, but Ratchet should still be reachable. 

………………ERROR 638aaaaaaaa: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH LINK………….

Orion’s spark pulsed in anxiety. In all his life, he’d never had this happen. Something was wrong. He should have picked up on it immediately, as soon as Megatronus had called him. He should have especially known after that admission of love. Now that he replayed the conversation over in his processor, Megatronus had sounded afraid. 

A spark-freezing scream tore him from his thoughts. That… came from the front end of the train. A tremor of fear rang through him, and he quickly got up from his seat to engage the locking mechanism on the door of his compartment.  Before he could return to his seat, his audials were assaulted by the screech of brakes ripping into the tracks and the explosive groan of metal crunching against metal. He didn’t even have time to brace himself before he suddenly was airborne. 

Megatronus was in a foul mood when he stepped off the transport platform and into the streets of lower Iacon. His trip back to Kaon hadn’t gone exactly as planned. He’d won his fight, of course, but the joy of victory felt hollow when combined with the rest of his visit. Just as he had expected, many of his followers were ill at ease over his relocation to Iacon, and they had made their displeasure known. 

It mattered little to them when he explained the political reasons for the change. They only saw it as him running off with his higher caste lover to live in luxury while they lamented with their scraps.  They were wrong, of course, but that didn’t stop them from asking questions and doubting his sincerity as their leader. It was a pain in his aft, but one he couldn’t afford to ignore. 

Their hab wasn’t even luxurious, especially by Iaconian standards.  It was in the lower levels, in a section of the city reserved for manual laborers. Its proximity to the docks meant that there was little peace. Shipments came in all throughout the cycle with little regard for the resident's recharge needs, and the ground shook periodically when the largest of transport trucks took their goods from the docks into central Iacon. Combine that with the relatively high crime rate in the area, and he may as well have been in a mid-tier neighborhood in Kaon. In Iacon, this was a slum. 

The few saving graces it offered were an affordable price, fast access to the transport station and the size of the habs available. Orion had refused to budge on that last issue. Megatronus was used to shoving his large frame into spaces too small for him, but Orion insisted on finding something they could both fit comfortably in. 

Megatronus rounded the corner and ex-vented heavily as their hab came into view. He wanted to force the foulness of his mood aside before he made it home. The last thing he wanted was for Orion to ask him what was wrong, especially when all he wanted to do was kiss the mech senseless and forget about his woes. He could think about them all tomorrow, hopefully after a sensual reunion with his conjunx and a well deserved recharge in his own berth. 

The thought finally brought a smile to his face as he punched in their lock code. There was absolutely nothing that would ruin the rest of this evening for him. He stepped inside, eager to greet his little archivist. 

He only got two steps past the door before his pedes were suddenly out from under him. Megatronus didn’t even have time to brace himself. His helm crashed back against the door and his aft hit the ground with a soft thud, cushioned only by the sound proofed padded tiles that lined the floor of the whole hab. 

The gladiator groaned and gritted his dentae together as the stars assaulting his optical inputs subsided. His would-be assassin lie scrunched up at his pedes: the custom-made rug bearing his movement’s logo that Orion had surprised him with as a homecoming gift when they had first moved into this place. The same rug that had been torturing him ever since they had put it on the blasted floor. 

Megatronus snatched the offending hunk of imported fabric in a rage, ready to rip it into a million tiny pieces. He didn’t know why the rug had it out for him. No one else had any problems walking over it. It was only he who it seemed to target with its mythical ability to take a mech to the floor. 

The soft, purple and black mesh seemed so unassuming in his servos… so easy to shred for its continued insults to his pride. But that would upset Orion… He in-vented deeply, and squeezed the rug in a momentary death grip before tossing it to the side. It wasn’t worth upsetting Orion over and ruining his first night back home. 

After hauling himself back up onto his pedes, he spared a glance back at the door, which had a brand-new helm shaped dent marring its otherwise pristine surface. Slag... He’d have to call someone to fix that before Soundwave saw it. He’d never hear the end of it if his spymaster knew he was still tripping over that fibrous death trap. 

Megatronus forced the thoughts from his mind. His war with the rug would resume another cycle. The lights were dimmed in their living area, and Orion was nowhere to be seen. It was late, he probably hadn’t waited up, which was disappointing, but understandable. At least he hadn’t been up to hear him slamming his helm into the door. 

He snorted at the thought. It would have been embarrassing for Orion to see him taken down by a rug. This was a small blessing, no matter how disappointing it was that he wouldn’t be having the reunion he’d fantasized about. This was fine. It just meant that the next morning would be that much more fun. 

He flicked the lights completely off in the living room before he turned down the hallway. Recharge sounded nice, now that he thought about it. The door opened for him, automatically, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face as his optics settled on Orion Pax draped over the desk at the window, deep in recharge. 

It took only a glance to see that he had dozed off while looking over one of Megatronus’ upcoming speeches. His Archivist was ever dutiful to him and their cause. He should have expected to find him here, like this. 

Love wasn’t something that Megatronus was great at expressing. He wasn’t an overtly affectionate mech, and when he was, it came off more as possessive. He also wasn’t all that great at verbally expressing his more tender emotions. Orion made it seem natural and easy. Orion could turn the normal task of editing into a declaration of devotion without uttering a single glyph.

The best that he could do was a clumsy attempt at gentleness as he scooped his Conjunx out of the chair and into his arms, grimacing as Orion’s helm clanked softly against his chassis, before slipping him as carefully as he could onto the berth. Orion didn’t budge from his slumber, and Megatronus huffed a quiet chuckle at that. No one recharged deeper than Orion Pax. 

He was lucky. He could admit that. Everyone knew Orion deserved better, including himself. Some were brave enough to even say so to his face. Even though Orion Pax insisted that he was exactly where he wanted to be, Megatronus found it difficult to shrug off his insecurities regarding the matter. 

He rounded the berth, and dimmed the lights to the lowest setting before finally allowing himself to lie down beside his beloved. He pressed a single kiss to the crest of Orion’s helm before tucking him against his frame, the way he knew Orion liked. Megatronus had missed him more than he would be able to say out loud and judging by how Orion had instinctually nuzzled into him, he’d missed him too. 

It was well into the recharge cycle when Orion finally stepped off transport in the city of Kaon, and even later when he finally arrived at the run-down building that served as his second home; the Gladiatorial Apartments. He ignored the warnings flashing on his HUD as he trudged down the hall towards the elevator, alerting him to what he already knew; that he was exhausted and in desperate need of recharge.

As always, the elevator groaned in a worrisome reminder of the lack of maintenance that was afforded to this place. It would fail, one cycle, if they didn’t tend to it, Orion thought as it inched its way towards the upper floors. Orion hoped that by that time he will have successfully convinced Megatronus that it would be beneficial to allow Orion to purchase something… safer and more suitable to their needs. As much as he loved his conjunx, the tiny apartment provided to Megatronus, even as the Champion, was too small to comfortably house the both of them full time.

He felt that familiar tug at his spark tighten as the elevator ground to a halt. Orion wasted no time, stepping out of that steel death trap as soon as its doors allowed him the space to do so. He let that tug at his spark pull him forward down the hall. He knew even before he punched the lock code into the door that Megatronus was recharging, and that brought a smile to his face as he stepped into the dimly lit apartment. Orion made him promise not to wait up for him.

Home… The apartment consisted of only three rooms; the living area, the berth room and the washrack. The main living space was half a fuel preparation station, and the rest was only large enough to fit his conjunx’s desk and two chairs. Orion couldn’t stop himself from quietly tidying up the space. He yawned softly as he straightened up the pile of datapads piled on the corner of the desk, saving them from inevitable collapse due to their haphazard stacking.

A quick glance around the room ripped a heavy sigh straight from his intake. The place was a mess, though that was not the fault of Megatronus. The unit his benefactors used to house him was simply too small for the larger warframe to comfortably maneuver himself to tidy up small nooks and crannies- another reason Orion wanted to purchase something else for the two of them.

He made his way into the fuel preparation station, picking up any trash that was easily accessible. After tossing it into the waste receptacle, he made his way to the automatic energon purifier on the counter. It was not turned on. Still ignoring the warnings in his HUD to seek immediate recharge, he switched on the machine, and carefully added the raw energon into the unit. Now, they would have fuel prepared for them when they came out of recharge.

An exhausted yawn ripped free from his intake as he turned and glanced at the closed door to the berthroom. His conjunx lay beyond that door, along with the silent promise of comfort and rest. It was so slagging difficult to recharge now, when he was alone in Iacon.

Orion paused only for a klik once the door to the berthroom slid open, to admire his Champion's form upon the berth. His spark blazed in a momentary inferno upon the sight. He wasn't entirely sure when or how he had fallen so deeply in love with this mech. It was not an intentional decision on his part, but Megatronus had nonetheless burrowed into his spark and had become everything to him.

Even shrouded in darkness his frame was magnificent. Without his low light filters switched on, Orion could see the elegant angles of Megatronus’ armored pauldrons and the almost delicate curve where his waist slopped into his hips silhouetted against the dim light trickling in through the window. The beauty of his frame was enough to suck the air directly from his vents.

Orion still could not entirely understand why Megatronus had chosen him as his conjunx. He could have any mech he wanted, and yet Megatronus had given his spark to a simple archivist. Orion was no fighter. He was not especially strong. He did not have a station that gave him great political power or a voice amongst the people. Despite how deeply he loved Megatronus, he still often felt undeserving of the love Megatronus returned to him.

He felt another yawn begin to build up in his frame, and his HUD flashed that obnoxious warning once more. Finally, he stepped towards the berth, taking care to move slowly and quietly to not disturb the gladiator before him. Megatronus must have been just as exhausted as Orion was, for him to be recharging so soundly.

He sat slowly on the edge of the berth, careful to slowly distribute his weight so as to not disturb his lover's recharge. Orion could already feel the comforting warmth of Megatronus’ frame radiating towards him as he scooted himself close until he was finally able to press himself gently against his lover’s back.

Orion Pax, the Thirteenth Prime, the walker of the void between the living and the dead, the ferry of sparks to their Father's loving embrace, the manifestation of all that death was, was a wise mech in many ways, but there were so many things about the children of Primus he had yet to understand. Just when he thought he had it all figured out, that he understood the living children as well as he needed to; his chosen champion of change flipped his understanding entirely on its helm.  He had missed the exact moment that Megatronus of Kaon ceased to find him unnerving, but he had not missed when his champion's affections turned to something… foreign and unidentifiable. 

This new feeling that radiated from Megatronus’ very spark whenever he was near came upon him without warning one evening when he had come to the Champion with notice of an imminent raid. He had, in his usual fashion, emerged from the void in the shadows behind the champion, who had been hunched over his desk, composing what Orion assumed was his next speech. Orion had thought nothing of it when he leaned over with his palm braced upon Megatronus’s shoulder and whispered in his audial, “Prepare yourself, my Champion. The enemies of our order have come to destroy us. Their wrath knows no bounds, and carried by command, they shall have no mercy. Flee while you can champion, take your followers, for they are coming."

Megatronus had not reacted the way he had expected him to at the news. His chosen Champion was prone to act with haste and righteous fury, yet the emotions that came from his spark were unknown to the walker of the voids. Affection, he understood, and there was a strong undercurrent of that familiar emotion underneath this strange feeling that Megatronus was refusing to allow through his EMs. Another oddity, Megatronus was not one to shield others from the truths of his emotions unless it somehow benefited him to do so, and Orion could think of no benefit to obscuring any form of affection for one’s companions.

Megatronus had then asked him a question he had never asked before; “When will I see you again?” 

Megatronus had acted so entirely out of character throughout the encounter that Orion almost feared something catastrophic had already happened. There had been a strange melancholy tinting that question that he could not quite interpret, but knew that it was directed towards himself. It made no sense to him why, when Megatronus’ main concern should have been to alert Soundwave of this new information and flee. 

His chosen champion’s odd behaviors around him only seemed to increase from that point forward. Those who had taken heed of his warning and fled alongside the Champion had sought refuge deep in the abandoned mines of Kaon, where no light from the nearest star could reach. He had paused after he had stepped from the void. Lingering in the shadows, he observed the forlorn look upon Megatronus’ face and a strange, twisting unease in his spark that he covered with a veil of false confidence. 

Glancing around all the bots collected in this shaft, Orion could not understand why. Everyone of note had been present, and even many of those Orion had yet to acquaint himself with were there. Soundwave had been at ease with the situation, and none of the others appeared to be nearly as concerned as their leader. It was… odd… 

What was even odder was how Megatronus had responded to him when he finally stepped out of the shadows to stand at his side. Instead of his usual greeting, Megatronus had taken him by the wrists and examined his frame as if he were expecting him to be damaged, and only after he was satisfied that Orion was perfectly intact did that strange unease in him die down, to be replaced by such a strong wave of relief that it had stunned the walker of the void.

His chosen champion had never examined him in such a manner before, nor had he ever embraced him in the manner he had afterwards. He had been pulled flush against the champion and held tightly against his warm chassis. Megatronus had held him there until his relief shifted into that same, mysterious emotion from before, only this time, a bit more open in its presentation. Megatronus did not seek to hide nearly as much of this strange… ‘more-than-affection’ feeling from him as he had their previous encounter. 

Orion did not understand any of it, but the warmth he experienced while being embraced lingered far longer than he had expected it to, and he found himself often recalling how pleasant it had felt to be enveloped in his Champion’s arms. However, Megatronus did not embrace him upon his next visit, and Orion had been disappointed in that fact, though he did not recognize his disappointment until he had returned to the void, feeling colder than normal.

The odd behaviors and feelings continued. It became quite common for the Champion of Kaon to rest his servo upon Orion’s shoulder; a gesture that Orion reciprocated eagerly, often accompanied by a gentle smile or curious tilt of his helm. Though foreign to him, the progression of his champion’s strange, shifting affections felt natural and satisfying in a way he could not describe.

It did not feel especially strange when Megatronus took his servo for the first time, one evening, as they sat together in the dark, speaking of nothing of consequence; though it was strange to him why Megatronus had been so nervous before he had done so. But his champion had eased as soon as Orion had shifted his digits, to allow them to intertwine with those of his champion. Megatronus had held his servo until Orion had felt drawn to return to the void, where he swore the warmth of Megatronus’ touch had lingered even as he ushered the latest wave of Primus’ children back to his loving embrace. 

For reasons he did not entirely understand, he had found himself visiting his champion more frequently, and staying late into the recharge cycle. Some cycles, they discussed their revolution and their various plans regarding their upcoming moves. Such conversations were not especially noteworthy. 

But there was one night that Orion still could not shake out of his helm; where Megatronus had looked directly into his optics and recited a piece of poetry about a captivating Archivist from Iacon, who’s optics were so enchanting that he wished he could peer into them forever and who’s derma he’s dreamed of feeling against his own. It was the most emotionally raw and vulnerable he had ever seen the champion, or anyone for that matter, at least in person, and it had left him forgetting to vent entirely until Megatronus had finished the piece. By the time he had remembered he needed to vent to appear living, something strange was churning in his own spark, bubbling up along with his already present affections in a confusing jumble of feelings he did not comprehend. He had been rendered speechless by the poem, and had resorted to reaching out to take Megatronus’ servo into his own and squeezing it tightly to show his approval. 

It was not long after that, that Megatronus had begun to sense his presence, even before he materialized from the void. He was uncertain by which mechanism Megatronus employed to detect him, but it became noteworthy when he arrived one evening to find the champion and his most trusted mechs seated around a table, upon which was a map, discussing their upcoming plans. Orion heard the voice of his champion even before he had begun to materialize his frame in the shadows.

“You need to move.” Megatronus had interrupted whoever was speaking with a firm order, and the room had gone eerily silent at the sudden shift in tone. 

“What? Why?” The confusion had been as evident in the mech’s voice as his disappointment had been. Clearly he had been excited to have a seat beside the Champion of Kaon. 

“That seat is taken. Get up, or I’ll make you get up.” It had been that moment that Orion had stepped out of the shadows and every set of optics in the room rested upon him. He had regarded them all curiously, unsure of what exactly it was he had been sensing from them as he had silently made his way to Megatronus’ side. It had been then that Megatronus had shoved the mech beside him forcefully from his seat and offered it to Orion.

When he took the mech’s place at Megatronus’ right, his Champion saw fit to lace together their digits, and place their joined servos on the table for all to see. Orion saw no reason to withdraw, and so had simply enjoyed the warmth seeping in from his champion’s palm and the strange sensations that very warmth sent to his spark. It mattered little to him that so many stared at them in silent recognition of some unspoken declaration that only Orion seemed unaware of. Megatronus had flawlessly picked up the conversation where he had interrupted it as the mech he had removed from his side took a seat at the opposite end of the table. 

Truthfully, Orion could not recall any of the specific details of that particular meeting. He had been too focused on trying to interpret the jumbled emotions welling up in his spark, that same “more-than-affection” that he sensed from his champion, though he still could not decipher the meaning of it. He knew that he found the sensations agreeable, pleasurable, even, and he knew that he wished to seek out more of this strange feeling that he could not call by name that only Megatronus seemed capable of making him feel. 

When Megatronus first placed his servo upon his waist, the warmth that radiated from his touch had seeped so deeply into him that his very spark could feel its comfort; and when his champion tugged him gently against his side, Orion eagerly leaned into the warmth that spilled into him at each point their frames touched. 

None of it made sense to him; the feelings, the newfound desire for warmth, the strange behaviors that had now become anticipated and comforting... He enjoyed when Megatronus touched him, though he did not know why it felt so different from the touch of any other mech. He found himself, somewhere along the way, almost craving the warmth that Megatronus provided him with his touches, and actively began seeking it out, sometimes even finding himself tucked against the champion’s side before being prompted. 

Megatronus stopped attempting to hide this strange feeling with his EMs entirely after Orion had materialized at the foot of his berth late one recharge cycle after leading home the latest batch of sparks, waking the champion with just a single request on his glossa. “I wish to bask in the warmth of my champion’s embrace.” 

Megatronus wordlessly invited him into his berth by lifting his arm and once Orion had climbed in beside him, he was pulled snugly to the champion's chassis, held firm, back struts flush against the champion's frame where the most wonderful warmth emanating from Megatronus seeped into him, soothing in him discomforts he had not even been aware he had felt at all. Megatronus’ mighty arm held him firmly in place, and similarly, Orion’s grip on his champion's servo, where he had intertwined their digits, only further served to anchor the two of them together. 

Orion spent many recharge cycles lying in the champion’s berth, secure in a warm embrace. It gave him joors upon joors to think and attempt to dissect the strange ways that Megatronus had affected him since he had detected that shift in the champion’s emotions. Never before had he been content to simply lie in place when there were so many things he should be observing and tending to with his free time. But this new emotion in his spark grew heavy and manifested as a persistent desire that gnawed at him to return to the comfort of his champion’s side the longer he stayed away, and he had found that these periods of rest somehow eased that strange… almost pain he came to expect from separation. 

And when they were together… It mattered not whether they were lying in berth or standing side by side, Orion found his artificial venting matching that of his champion’s vent for vent, and it was becoming more and more common for the entire universe to melt away in his awareness when the champion addressed him, and when Megatronus drew him close and looked into his optics his spark would pulse so strongly that he feared it would break free of the frame he had constructed around himself.  He would have been frightened by the intensity of the feeling had he not been aware that his champion felt exactly the same way, and was not concerned. 

For all the eons that he had walked the void, he had never felt anything remotely close to this. It was unfathomable to him. He could pick out individual aspects of this larger emotion; such as affection, anticipation, fondness, security and excitement; however these were only small facets of the massive new emotion that had taken root in his spark. When he tried to analyze them all together it simply became a too large and confusing to comprehend, especially if he attempted to factor in how not just his own behaviors had been altered so drastically due to this emotion, but his champion’s as well

He understood that Megatronus had become important to him, more so than any other who walked the living realm, but it had nothing to do with the quest he had sent his champion on and everything to do with how the champion made him feel. Like he was… wanted; like his presence was enjoyed. Something he had never cared about before.

 His last encounter with Megatronus had resulted in the most tempestuous reaction in his spark yet. The bulk of the visit was relatively unnoteworthy. Mechs were packing up their camp in the mine shaft to relocate to a safe house in Tarn. Once again, Megatronus covered his anxieties with false confidence as he directed his flock and collected his own belongings. Orion assisted him in packing and when he had felt the call to return to the void, Megatronus stopped him from stepping into the shadows with a quick, desperate grasp to his wrist.

Megatronus pulled Orion gently back towards him and drew him into a tender embrace. Orion leaned into the warmth provided by his champion, his optics shuddering offline almost on instinct as he rested helm upon his shoulder, his face nuzzled into the crook of Megatronus’ neck, content to feel his claws drawing soothing circles on the plating of his lower back. He could spare a few more kliks…. 

He was just about to regretfully pull away from the embrace when he felt Megatronus lightly touch the side of his digit to his chin, in a gentle, unspoken, request. He allowed Megatronus to guide his helm, and when their optics met, Orion’s spark twisted in a strange anticipation at the look he was receiving. His champion looked… nervous, unsure, like he wanted to say something, but underneath it, he felt a strange yearning emanating from the him that Orion couldn’t interpret. Megatronus’ shifted his touch, from Orion’s chin to cup the side of his helm and Orion instinctively nuzzled into the warmth of his champion’s palm and let his optics fall closed as that confusing, yet pleasant jumble of emotions swirled around in his spark. 

And then, without warning, time entirely stopped as he felt Megatronus’  hesitantly press together their derma. He froze stiff as that feeling in his spark suddenly detonated with what felt like the power of a super nova. It surged through him like lightning, and each gentle movement of his champion’s warm derma against his own only sent more fuel to power the fire burning in his spark.  It was nearly overwhelming. He didn’t know what to do, how to respond, or what he was feeling. The only thing even remotely comparable had been the overwhelming understanding that had struck him when his purpose had become known to him. Only this… this was new, it was wonderful; exciting! He’d never felt so…. Alive. He wished it would never end. 

Megatronus pulled away suddenly his field felt off, and instantly Orion felt nearly frantic as awareness snapped back into place abruptly. His servos shot up with urgency and caught the champion by his helm to keep him from retreating any further. It was too soon. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, and Megatronus was upset by something he must have done incorrectly.  When Megatronus’ confusion seeped into his field atop the dejection he was trying to cover up, Orion gently guided his champion back to him, where he clumsily pressed their derma together once more. 

As if he had flipped a switch, his champion surged with confidence as he crushed Orion tightly to his frame, and Orion’s spark soared. The first kiss had been a gentle, almost innocent  brushing of derma, but the second… Megatronus kissed him as if he were starving; hot and passionate, with dentae and glossa. Orion did his best to keep up, tried to mimic and match Megatronus’ technique but he could barely focus over the way his champion had him entirely enveloped in his field, drowning him in the intensity of their combined sentiments. Megatronus seemed to care little that Orion was inexperienced and clumsy, merely chuckling when Orion accidentally clanged their dentae together. He simply had taken charge and kissed Orion until his processors were nearly scrambled with how fiercely it had his spark pulsing with that emotion he could not name. 

When Megatronus pulled away the second time, he was venting heavily, as if he had just come from battle.  He pressed the crests of their helms together gently and this time, Orion was at peace with their separation, his spark thrumming with contentment at their closeness.

“Orion… I-” But the champion cut himself off, though Orion did not know why. It caused him to tilt his helm, in curiosity, as he could tell that whatever Megatronus had wanted to say was of great importance to him. But he had simply smiled, in a melancholy sort of way as he loosened his grip, allowing Orion the space to pull away from him, if he chose to do so. and asked, in a forlorn tone, “When will I see you again?” 

Orion finally understood that Megatronus must have suffered that same… almost painful sensation that he did when they were separated; the one that gnawed at him with memories of warmth and touch and that… feeling in his spark that made him ache to return to his side. He let one of his servos fall from his champion’s helm, to lace together their digits, in the manner he had grown to find comforting.  “I shall return to your side once I have restored those lost and wandering to their eternal sanctum of rest.”

Megatronus’ seemed to find reassurance in his answer, and he smiled, the lazy one that Orion usually only saw when they were lying in berth, and Megatronus just a groon or so from falling into recharge. “How is it that you always know where to find me, my archivist?” 

Orion had smiled at the question and tightened his grip on the champion’s servo as he spoke his response; “The void is but a veil upon which you are always visible to me, my Champion. There is nowhere in the vastness of all that exists you could hide where I could not find you.”

Orion left soon after, with another gentle kiss from his champion graced upon his derma just before the void and strengthened its call to him. Though he noted with some concern that he… did not want to. He wanted to stay with Megatronus, to convince the champion to put off his relocation efforts for just one more cycle, so that they could hold each other in berth and kiss until Megatronus was forced into recharge. 

 The void felt colder than it had during his last retreat, though he knew that that was an impossibility. Something had changed in him to make it feel this way. He did not know if it was something he should be concerned with or not. At its worst, it seemed a mild side effect of… what that kiss had done to him. 

Orion knew, theoretically, what a kiss was, but he did not fully understand what they meant. He knew it was something mortals engaged in with those they felt a great deal of affection for, but he did not understand exactly what had changed between Megatronus and himself to suddenly warrant such an act. They had been feeling these emotions for nearly a vorn now. Something had to have changed. Right?

Somewhere along the way, a great many things had changed, including himself. He was feeling things he knew he was not programmed to feel, even if he could not name those feelings. He knew that now, suddenly, a living being was more important to him than the rest, though he still did not know why. And suddenly he found himself understanding those sparks that lingered near to those they were close to in life, for when he now came to the void, he longed for the warmth of the one he had left behind as well. 

He found that this newfound understanding helped him to ease some of the Precious sparks back to Primus’ embrace with greater ease, though he was not certain what exactly he was doing differently. He sometimes wished he could seek their wisdom as he guided them along the path home, for he knew what he felt was experienced by the living, and perhaps they would be able to at lease identify for him what he was experiencing. But such a thing was not possible. The living, once passed into the void, could not speak. 

He was left with more questions than answers by the time he sensed none left who needed to be guided, and he felt so much colder than he remembered being. The warmth he had soaked up from Megatronus was just a memory, and he felt that strange almost pain biting at him to return to the champion, as he had said he would, once his duties were seen to. But these questions needed to be answered. He needed to know what was happening to him, what strange, mortal influence had taken refuge in his spark. 

He could not ask his brother. Alpha Trion was unlikely to understand and certain to pass judgements upon him for engaging so deeply with Primus’ children. It felt… wrong to ask Megatronus directly, even though logically he knew Megatronus would likely have the answer. He did not even know where to begin to search the archives for the information he sought. 

“I chilled them. Look in the cooling unit.” The blip of joy that leaked into Orion’s field once he finally spotted the can made Megatronus’ spark thrum.  Once upon a time he would have tried to explain that away as anything other than the effects of being helm over pede in love with Orion. Now he just counted himself the luckiest mech in the universe to be loved in return. “You need to have more than rust sticks. Take a cube, too.” 

Orion laughed softly as he complied, grabbing two of the small cubes along with his favored rust stick treats. “Next time you should carry. You clearly have the better instinct for it. And the better frame.  Though I would be missing out on all the incredible overloads.” Orion’s plating rattled, from the back of his neck down his spinal strut to his aft, as if he’d had an involuntary shiver at some phantom sensation. 

Megatronus laughed at that, and strode across their hab suite, to meet Orion in the kitchen.  “Are the overloads the best part of carrying?” He stepped up behind him, slipped his arms around his waist so that he could get his servos on that exquisitely swollen abdomen once more.  Orion leaned into the embrace and rested his helm comfortable against Megatronus’ chest plates, a content grin on his face as he lifted a servo to offer a cube to his champion. 

“No. But they are in the top five.” Orion said with a content sigh. Megatronus regretfully withdrew one of his servos to take the offered cube. He paid much more attention to the way Orion’s plates felt under his servo than the taste of the energon he gulped down. Orion greedily shoved an entire rust stick down his intake, as if he were famished. 

“What’s number one?” He finished the cube in record time, and quickly set it aside, his servo had a better place to be.  Orion chewed noisily, unworried about looking uncouth as he stuffed his face with his treat of choice and crunched it between his dentae. 

“Mmm... I’m not sure... I have to turn… that one over a few times… in my processor.” Orion continued to eat as he spoke, finishing off his third stick. Finally he tipped the cube to his intake.  It eased Megatronus’ spark to see him consume some actual fuel. Lately all he’d been craving were those slagging rust sticks.  It was a wonder he hadn’t cracked his dentae on them with how many he’d been consuming these past few deca-cycles.