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Love is a Battlefield	By : CGH Category: Transformers > Beast Wars Views: 2235 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers: Beast Wars, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Love is a Battlefield
- 1
Author’s note: This contains SLASH. OptimusxMegatron, Armadaverse.
This one came to me in a dream when I fell asleep listening to Pat Benatar.
.o
Love is a Battlefield
.o
“We are strong!
No on can tell us we're wrong.
Searchin' our hearts for so long--
both of us knowing.
Love is a battlefield…”
Pat Benatar - “Love is a Battlefield”
.o
Before the war they were lovers. When ideals differed and they took different political stances, Optimus tried to forget. He tried not to flinch each time their optics met on the front lines. He tried not to think about how savagely beautiful his fanged grin looked covered in dirt and oil. He tried not to feel phantom caresses whenever their hands locked during combat. He tried not to hear the how sounds he made in battle were similar to the growling moans that announced his overload.
Megatron never let him forget.
Concussion shells sent Optimus stumbling. Dust and chunks of Cybertron itself sprayed up into the air, clouding his optics. The world became a gray haze of shape and shadow. Scents of hot metal and oil filled his intakes.
Something snatched him into the darkness. He responded by flipping it over his shoulder, slamming it noisily to the filthy ground. Green legs swirled like helicopter blades, knocking him aside. Purple hands grabbed his arm and yanked him down. He struggled even as he and his opponent rolled together into a jagged trench blown open by the bomb. More dust flew when he landed hard on his back.
One hand pinned his wrists above his head. Achingly familiar metal thighs spread beautifully across his pelvis like they were made to rest there. Another hand grasped his chin, forcing his head to the side. Lips, round, full and hiding fangs, gently blew the dust off his golden optics and came to rest against his audio input sensor.
“Found you,” Megatron whispered, his voice dark and dangerous like the smoke hanging in the air.
Optimus said nothing because he wasn’t supposed to love Megatron anymore. They were the leaders of opposing factions. He had to resist…to ignore the cries of his Spark…to forget…
Megatron’s free hand traced the junction where his neck joined his chin. One finger, then two, slow, tantalizing, until all five pressed flat against his silver mask. With expert precision the fingers split the protective plate. It retracted by reflex once the seal broke, exposing Optimus’ heart shaped lips. He felt Megatron’s glossa slide across his cheek. Fingertips again turned his head and Megatron kissed his other audio sensor.
“Do I stand in your way, Optimus, or am I the best thing you’ve had?”
Growling, Optimus tried to shove his rival off, but the trench left no room to move. Megatron wasn’t going anywhere…and he knew it. He always knew the best places to pull this.
“Why?” he snarled.
“Believe me,” Megatron tightened the grip on Optimus’ wrists when he struggled. He grinned and his lips pulled away from his fangs, “believe me…” he lightly kissed Optimus‘ jaw. He had the softest mouth…soft and round and perfect, and so opposite to the rest of him. “I can’t tell you why…” and against his cheek, “…you already know why.”
Optimus looked up into Megatron’s feral red eyes. The look in them, the hunger, the longing and the pain, halted the stream of vulgarities he prepared to spout. His Spark warmed and he felt static burning all through his body. “You can’t stop either…”
A slow smirk, “I’m trapped by your love. I’m chained to your side.”
Then Megatron leaned over and his brutal kiss melted Optimus inside. He tasted of oil, dust and flames. All these years and he still tasted the same. Optimus gave in to it like an alcoholic who can’t give up the bottle. He grabbed the back of Megatron’s head as their tongues went to war.
Optimus forced Megatron’s head sideways and raked his teeth across his smooth jaw. He got a mouthful of dust, but the way it made his rival arch and whimper was worth it. Megatron’s jagged antennae clanked against the trench. Optimus grabbed one, yanking him down to drink his flavor again. He felt Megatron settle fully across his chest. His Spark pulsed in desire to reunite with its bond-mate.
He never could resist Megatron. Not as his lover, nor as his enemy. It never mattered that he told himself to hate him…his Spark wouldn’t listen to his mind.
Megatron’s talented hand slithered between Optimus’ legs and opened his blue codpiece. Fingertips penetrated the wiring and the Autobot leader mewled. Sparks jumped around Megatron’s fingers like the lasers shooting over their hidden trench.
“Say the magic word.”
“Ohh…”
Those lips on his ear again, hammering his senses. “Ohh, what, Optimus?”
“Ohh…Mm…Mega--t-t--”
Fingers circled his sweet spot, a cluster of wires buried under his coolant lines, and fangs screeched against his chin, “Yeeeesssss?”
Optimus’ body stopped being his own. It tingled and twitched, possessed by the power Megatron had over him. Megatron could hold him on the edge of overload forever if he wanted to, he was just that good. “Ohh, Megatron…” He pulled Megatron’s head down again, gasping against his audio sensor, “Megatron…”
Tension rippled up and down the Decepticon’s magnificent body. With a snarl that lit up his optics, he exposed his own access port and slammed his pelvis down onto Optimus’.
An explosion above drowned Optimus’ cry. Megatron lifted himself up and lowered and tiny lightning bolts jumped between them. Then he rose again, though not as far, as static spat and sizzled. Optimus felt his lover’s lips on his cheek, his deep intakes blowing hot air across his face.
“We are strong,” whispered Megatron. He sent tiny shocks all over Optimus’ port, electrifying every wire and metal surface until smoke curled around his thighs. It burned and made the air smell like hot copper--the scent of sex. His voice trembled in a way that made Optimus ache with love, “No one can tell us we’re wrong.”
The corners of Optimus’ optics grew moist. Nothing could make him stop loving Megatron no matter how hard he tried. He always heard his Spark beating out Megatron’s name, clear and ringing over the sounds of war.
Any time, any day, one of them might die. They both knew this. Each time they met could be the last.
“Stop thinking about it,” Megatron whispered in his audio sensor. Despite his harsh tone, he kissed away the tears, “I’m here now, and that‘s all that matters.”
Optimus smiled as the lips fluttered past his optics. “I love you.”
“I know,” Megatron covered Optimus’ mouth with his own. “I know.”
Oh…
The radiator grill on Optimus’ chest split and retracted, exposing his flickering Matrix of Leadership. Just below it, his Spark chamber rotated forward.
Megatron bent to kiss him as his own chest rearranged itself. His Spark beat quickly, betraying his arousal. Optimus dragged his thumbs over the chamber’s outer rim. Megatron bucked first in pain, then pleasure, his voice dissolving to a rumbling growl. The sound plucked the strands of Optimus’ self control--because he knew he was making Megatron lose his.
“Op…ti…muhh! Optimussss!”
“What?” Optimus said innocently. He grabbed Megatron’s aft, slamming their codpieces together, and Megatron’s Spark brightened into a tiny phosphorescent sun. “You want something?”
The calculating coolness on Megatron‘s face became a grimace. He looked and sounded like he was in pain, “Unh!”
Optimus sent port pulses in volleys of three, following it with a circle around his lover’s Spark chamber. Megatron wasn‘t the only one with the power. “I can’t hear you.”
His lover growled, “Ummh…want…”
Another pulse, enough to make Megatron arch and pound his fists on the sides of the trench. Optimus' shaking hand grabbed the cannon on Megatron’s back and yanked him down. They both sparked so much that static crackled between their mouths when they kissed. The only thing keeping Optimus from overloading now was sheer will power. “You want…?”
“You,” Megatron whispered against his lips.
With a nod, Optimus guided Megatron forward and their Sparks made contact.
Concussion shells exploded above the trench. Orange embers fell like burning rain, making the air itself hot, though not as hot as their desire.
“Primus and all that’s…holy…you‘re, unnh…making me…dance…” Megatron gasped. “Ohh, don’t stop…” His shoulders and hips began to slowly undulate side to side from the electricity passing through his system. Completely involuntary--a glitch in his internal wiring--but magnificent to watch and feel. The motion reminded Optimus of an eel…so sensual…and he loved making Megatron do it.
Optimus kept his grip on Megatron’s tank gun so he wouldn’t rock too much. The cannon was one of the largest erogenous zones on his body once he became aroused. He howled and clawed the walls when Optimus stroked its length.
With his other hand, Optimus caressed Megatron’s bottom lip. Megatron bit his finger, gripped Optimus’ sides and bent to kiss him. A surprisingly gentle kiss amidst the chaos above them. Static flowed off their tongues and created blue flickers on their lips. Optimus lost himself in the silken tingle only Megatron gave. His world tunneled as their Sparks began to pulse in synch and merge.
Before this gets old, will it still feel the same? Megatron spoke through their link.
Optimus grabbed Megatron’s face and looked into his optics, There’s no way this will die!
But…if we get much closer… Megatron began to pant, I could lose control.
“Then let it go,” Optimus whispered aloud. Overload waited seconds away, he couldn’t hold it off much longer.
“Optimus,” Megatron said, both physically and through the link. He met Optimus’ eyes, smiling, the brightening glow in his optics signaling that his orgasm had begun, “I love you.”
The words touched Optimus in ways no sex ever could.
I love you, Megatron repeated. The treads on his shoulders started to turn. He surrendered at last, proclaiming his love over and over while his real voice dissolved into snarling moans. The emotion rolled into and around Optimus, dragging him into a swirl of sensation, comfort and blistering heat. He offered himself completely to the feelings and to Megatron--and then the overload swept him away. All his love flowed through their link. Each beat of his Spark called Megatron’s name, and he heard his own whispered in reply. Their hands slapped against the sides of the trench and interlocked into a dusty gray and purple tangle.
A building went down somewhere, shaking the ground.
Optimus saw nothing but Megatron’s eyes--the glow of his own golden optics casting an orange sheen across them--and the silent message they exchanged. No promises, no demands. Just them, together, entwined as rivals and lovers in the middle of a battlefield.
Static momentarily clouded Optimus’ vision, but he still faintly saw Megatron undulating above him, lost in their shared bliss. Then Megatron off-lined and flopped across his chest, cheek to cheek, his intakes cycling a mile a minute. The tip of his tank gun and jagged antennae glowed faintly red.
Optimus wrapped his arms around Megatron’s waist and nuzzled his cheek. Their Sparks slowly retracted back into their chambers. Almost all light disappeared. The sun had moved away from the trench, making it dark as night. Hot oil, solder and burning copper smells wafted into the air, the distinctive odor of post-overload. It filled the trench.
“Mm,” Megatron purred. A satisfied sound that made Optimus grin inwardly. Oh, he did good that time.
Crimson optics flickered online in the smoky darkness.
“Mm,” Optimus echoed, teasing.
“Shut up,” Megatron said, and Optimus chuckled against his cheek. A slap on the aft answered his laughter. “We really need to stop meeting this way.”
“You say that when you’re the one who started it.”
“Just like I supposedly started this whole war?”
The statement stung and Optimus bit his lip so he wouldn’t say something hurtful. He kissed Megatron’s throat, “Don’t. I don’t want to part ways angry.”
Sighing, Megatron pecked his mouth and pushed himself up. He helped Optimus to his feet, yanked him against his chest and devoured him in a fierce, tongue-lashing lip lock. It made Optimus’ knees waver.
“It will be that way until we learn to agree about the Mini-Cons.” Megatron said against his mouth. “We could use them…we could rule this universe together.”
“They’re sentient beings, Megatron,” Optimus replied, his Spark sinking in dismay. “Freedom is the right of all sentient beings!” He pointed up in the general direction of the bombings, “They don’t want to be in this war.” Then he pointed to himself, his optics narrowing, “I don’t want to be in this war.”
“Oh, Optimus…” Megatron’s eyes dimmed and his lips turned down in sadness. He made that same face when they first discovered each other as leaders of their respective factions. He cupped Optimus’ cheek, whispering, “We are meant to conquer. The strong survive, the weak perish. It’s the law of the universe, of evolution.”
Optimus bit his lip and averted his eyes. His optics illuminated dust particles floating in the air. He said, “We were weak at one time, too.”
“And we had no one coddling us through the horrors we’ve survived, which means we were meant to be what we are. We are strong! No one can tell us we‘re wrong for that.”
“Megatr--”
A smooth finger hooked under Optimus’ chin, pulling him up for another slow, sensual, glossa-swirling kiss. Optimus clung desperately, aching to change Megatron’s mind. An exercise in futility, but it didn’t stop him from trying.
“Until you learn to see things my way, Optimus,” Megatron’s purple finger caressed Optimus’ blue lips, “our love is a battlefield.”
Missiles whistled over the trench and slammed into a nearby building.
Optimus dove as flaming debris fell where he’d been standing. He picked himself up in time to see Megatron climb over the trench’s lip. Megatron looked down, his ruby optics two embers against the black sky. Optimus let his face plate slide back over his mouth. He scrambled up onto the other side of the trench and watched Megatron turn away. His image wavered in the heat and smoke marking so much destruction. The tank gun on his back still glowed faintly from their encounter.
Moments ago, they were the closest two Cybertronians could be. Now, a trench and opposing ideals divided them. Still, not even the war came between their Sparks no matter how hard Optimus tried to forget.
No promises, no demands.
Their love was a battlefield.
- 1
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Love is a Battlefield