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Sunny Disposition	By : paw07 Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 5677 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: Though I finding it sickeningly obvious, I find it necessary to admit that though this is a fanfiction site, I do not own Transformers nor make any money from it.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3: Unexpected Lovers

XXX

Jazz was no tracker but he was no fool – he wasn’t a saboteur for nothing – so it wasn’t terribly difficult to follow the enraged and hurt Sunstreaker’s tracks even though he had been following him for nearly half a day. He was presently plowing through the desert, the sand flowing after like a cloud of smoke. Jazz was rather surprised to even be here in the smoldering desert area. For one, Sunstreaker was still going pushing himself onward even though the younger bot had to be exhausted by now and also because the yellow mech was generally to vain to even allow a trace of dust on his well kept coat. Not that the saboteur was going to deny that… Sunstreaker was very good looking but his spark seemed so cold. Jazz at least knew why now. A feeling of betrayal buried that deep and so young would make it hard for any mech to trust … to love.

Sighing came from the saboteur; who knew how far the truth had been spread amongst the busy bodies on the Ark, not that Jazz was a saint, but he still felt bad for the younger mech. Burying that thought as quickly as he could, Jazz picked up speed. He had just had a cold feeling grip at his engine. It was as if something was watching him … and backup was nowhere nearby.

Off in the distance, perched on a large rock body like a hungry crow, Starscream watched the saboteur. He was still slightly enraged by the callous way Megatron had commanded him hours ago and now had a perfect way to burn off some of the heat of his rage.

Rising to his feet, optics glinting, Starscream smirked, “The only good Autobot is a dead Autobot. I’ll crush the life out of him… just like I will to Megatron.”

XXX

Elsewhere, Megatron sneezed. The larger mech filters seemed to rattle in his very vents at the strength of it, but he could only stand there a minute, wondering if it would happen again like it usually did. It didn’t and the tyrant grumbled about constantly seizing vents and made a mental note to have Hook check over his systems when he got back even though the medic never did seem to find anything. Besides, he had better things to do than worry about sand grains in his ventilation systems. He had found what he was looking for with its silver plates glaring up at the sky … as well as something else.

The Warlord’s satisfied expression turned to a frown quickly as he caught a glimpse of a cloud of dust on the horizon. It was hard not to note that it was an Autobot. With a growl of his engine, Megatron got lower to the sands and masked his energy signal as much as he could.

Slag. Slag. SLAG!

He had been sure that this plan would work, that he could turn this war around. Yet, here was this brightly colored child coming to rat him out. Optimus and the others probably were soon to follow if he didn’t do something quickly.
He wasn’t a supporter of abortion but some sparklings were just meant to die. Case in point, this yellow mech now in his shooting range. True, maybe this Autobot wasn’t a sparkling but he was one compared to how long the tyrant had existed.

…

He still didn’t understand it. He just had to get away. Why had his brother abandoned and betrayed his secret for a mere child? Yes, a child. Bluestreak was inexperienced and barely out of his youngling form. Why would Side’s leave him for someone so … inexperienced? It couldn’t be love? His brother was supposed to love him.

Well, that had been disproven he supposed. No twin, even if one knew, would ever reveal which one had been abandoned for it was both their shame: to abandon one’s sibling was unforgivable and to be the defect was a disgrace. It was true though that the defect was far more disgusting to be around than the abandoner.

Sunstreaker – just as he was about to slow – pushed himself harder, ignoring the ping of his comm. link again. It was probably his brother or one of the higher officers, most likely his brother.

What did he care?

His brother wasn’t supposed to love him anymore now that he had Bluestreak… no one was supposed. His brother had merely loved him in obligation because, after all, they needed to fuse their sparks a few times a vorn or both their half sparks would become unstable and they’d die. That was when they were children though and all they had was each other. New lovers could easily fulfill that purpose now that they were older. Sideswipe now longer needed him… he was a waste of space, an old tool no longer needed.

Part of him wanted to stop and weep in this hot dusty place for he knew nothing but the sand would witness his misery yet, just as he was about to start breaking, and give into his misery… he heard the shot fired and could do nothing but scream out in agony and surprise as his front right tire was shot out.

The seconds that followed were a blur. He remembered the sand being thrown into the air as if he was in a dust storm, his form flipping sideways completely in the air and seeming air born for a moment until he started to descend back to the ground. Panic setting in, the golden warrior barely had enough wit left in his panicked mind to transform and roll.

The landing was a twist of sand and metal as he scrambled to capture footing on the loose earth and still manage escape from the shots that were rhythmically being thrown at him. He barely got behind a nearby collection of rocks before his injured leg gave out, the yellow mech falling to the sands with a choked gasp of pain.

For a second, the younger mech remained behind the collection of rocks shaking as if he were Bumblebee. Bumblebee got captured in raids like this and hid like this, not him. Primus, he was proving what his brother just reveal to be true: he was the defect, a scared little prissy afraid to come out in the light. The yellow mech’s hand shook at the thought of what his brother has said, but the pain radiating up his form from his leg kept throwing that thought to the way side; he needed Ratchet. Raising his hand, readying himself to call his comrades for help, something inside him snapped.

The defective reject needed help. Everyone barely even knew his dirty secret for a day and already it was going to be proven correct to them: he was going to prove he was no better than a prissy little virgin and twice the coward. Slowly, he reached for his subspace compartment instead and took out his weapon. He could deal with this Decepticon alone. After all, it seemed to be just one mech and in that way he could return to the base with some honor.

If he returned at all.

The rest of it was probably just stupidity after that, him running forward at some unknown enemy, shooting like someone out of a bad action movie before he suddenly leapt in the air, ready to land on the enemy as if he were just doing his regular jet-judo. The thing was, his movements froze halfway up in the air-bound transit when he saw who he was attacking: it was Megatron. Nobody but Optimus took Megatron head on and for good reason; everyone else always seemed to end up deactivated.

A collection of Megatron’s and Sunstreaker’s limbs suddenly crashed into each other as they rolled down a nearby sand dune, grunts and growls following them the whole way down. Sunny tried to bury the revelation of who he was fighting so he could focus now on surviving this more than winning because if Megatron’s first punch was any indication of how this fight was going to go… this wasn’t going to end well.

And he was right, not because Sunstreaker couldn’t take the hits or the near-misses of gun fire, it was that one of Megatron’s rock-hard punches hit true and Ratchet proved his warning right; Sunstreaker’s hip could not withstand a beating. The golden warrior’s agonizing scream had given Megaton the distraction he needed to win and one good punch to the face caused Sunstreaker to hit the sand and stop moving, hand twitching as he tried to reach for his leg. The movement ended quickly though when a heavy foot placed itself on Sunstreaker’s chest.

Cursing himself silently, Sunstreaker wiped some energon from his lip with his free hand and glared up at the huge leader, the tyrant’s face showing no expression, not even a smirk.

“Thought you could take me on, Autobot. Think again. Time to make your amends with Primus.”

The verbal exchange ended quickly after that as the grey mech moved his cannon towards the twin’s head, a buzzing noise filling Sunstreaker’s audios. Megatron didn’t even get to charge the cannon to full power when Sunstreaker’s survival skills suddenly kicked in with revenge and he kicked out too. There was a sickening screech of metal on metal as the Autobot hit the cannon on its main clamp, the thing snapping at the seam and went flying into the air.

Megatron knew he should have seen the kick to the gut coming but he was a bit busy watching his gun snap off and go flying. The Autobot then proceeded to roll away, rising to his feet and putting his fists up, the injured leg struggling to keep him standing. The tyrant merely rubbed his midsection and turned to the yellow hellion as if to sneer. Instead, there was a smile on his face. So this Autobot wanted to tango, did he? A little hand to hand combat? Well, it was usually only Optimus Prime that dare take him on physically … new meat.

With a returning roar of his engines, the mech threw himself at the yellow Autobot. A scream of metal slamming into metal filled the desert expanse and soon the two beings were a mix of kicking, growling, biting, and clawing masses of metal again. And for some reason, this time, the threat of death caused his spark to beat abnormally fast and Sunstreaker found it exhilarating despite the pain in his leg. Every punch to the armor, every scratch of his paint job, was more an attack at his sorrow then him. He was not a joke to his enemy; he was not a defect; he was an equal … if only for a moment. At least he would die a warrior. With a growl of his own engine, the yellow mech managed to get on top of the other soldier, his fists coming down again and again as he slammed his fists into Megatron’s face. He would die a warrior.

Megatron could feel the pain of every punch and every scrape against his armor, yet for some reason he suddenly found the warmth that had been collecting into his body become a full fledged heat. Primus, this Autobot was hot, to the point of overheating almost. It was almost hot enough that it felt like when a mech’s systems were about to overload.

At that thought, Megatron’s optics widened. Now that was not a thought to have at this particular time considering he was having the slang beat out of him; the last time he had interfaced was when he was on Cybertron, and there was a mech rocking on top of him. Megatron’s cord tingled at the very thought.

At first the titan was shocked at the reaction his body had just decided to give him, especially towards a useless Autobot, but when he decided to ignore the punching to his face, he noticed why. He was on his back with a rather handsome mech onto top of him, playing rough. Then there was the fact that the mech’s spark was sending out rays of need for touch or love or any sign of emotion. The yellow front liner’s body was getting turned on by the closeness of their sparks … and so was he in reaction to the younger mech. The Decepticon leader suddenly dodged a punch to the face as the truth hit him, a grin forming as Sunny’s punch hit sand.

A most unexpected development but not entirely unwelcomed. It had been a while and this was a young good looking mech after all. He smiled wickedly up at the bewildered mech. This was going to be fun.

Sunstreaker was about to continue his punching, despite the smile. Instead, he couldn’t help but gasp out, his body shivering, as a hand ran over his aft, fingers daring to touch his cod piece. Unfortunately for Sunstreaker, that sudden moment of shock was all Megatron needed to flip the Autobot over so that he was now on top of him, pinning Sunstreaker’s arms. The leader couldn’t help but smile wickedly as he watched a look of shock cover the yellow mech’s face. He then leaned down, pressing his chest against the Autobot as a roar shivered through his engine and down into his partner’s. The look on the yellow being’s face was priceless, yet not as priceless as the shocked look that followed after when his engine returned a begging purr.

A soft chuckle escaped the Decepticon as he pinned the yellow mech’s arms down with his knees so he had his arms free, using his now free hand to cup the shocked mech’s chin. He then placed his spare hand on Sunstreaker’s chassis, feeling the spark beat within as if it were a sun being introduced to its first day.

“It seems that you wish to play in more ways than one, Autobot,” purred the ‘Con. It really had been a while and now that his cord was tingling, he wasn’t going to just forget it. Generally, he only went after femmes. Yes, it was an oddity to have a preference like that especially being that femmes were so rare, but from time to time he found a good mech that just couldn’t be ignored.

“As if Megatron,” growled Sunstreaker as he gave a violent tug at his arms, his own cord betraying him though. “Now get off me or offline me where I lay.”

“Tuh, your mouth says one thing while you spark says another,” said the warlord, his hips starting to grind back and forth on the codpiece below him. Primus, how long had it really been? Not that some of his men weren’t attractive, but he didn’t need any of his men stepping out of rank thinking they deserved special treatment since they were allowed to be his bitch for a night. Besides, none of them turned him on like a quick femme could do with a simple glance.

Sunstreaker tried not to shiver, but his voice came out quivering anyway, “W-why would I want to i-interface with you?”
The Con’s smile slowly disappeared, the pain in the other mech’s optics easily recognized now. Megatron stopped grinding for a moment, not wanting to lose the opportunity to get laid. Hmm, it seemed he’d just have to charm this Autobot like he did a femme. Slowly, Megatron reached out and cupped Sunstreaker’s chin once again, running a thumb over the other’s cheek lightly as if greeting a long lost lover. Primus, why hadn’t he noticed this mech before for his beauty and not just his warrior might? He was stunning. If it weren’t for his build, his face alone might confuse him for a femme; an angry femme at that with the ways his optics seemed to glare, but Megatron didn’t really like those push over femmes anyway. Give him a mean lass that could bite any day over a pretty pushover like Optimus kept in his company.

Slowly, the tyrant leaned down, his chest pushing against his captive as he whispered down into those lovely ear fins on the Autobot’s head.

“I know you. I’ve seen the way the other Autobots treat you… I have optics everywhere after all. I see how they set you apart,” said the Con, adding a little vengeance to his voice as he breathed onto those now shivering appendages, “how they ignore you and hate you when you aren’t on the battlefield. They think you are a monster… Pit, your own bother has abandoned you, hasn’t he? I haven’t seen him battling at your side much anymore.”

Slowly, Megatron pulled away, giving that ear-fin a soft nip as he pulled himself upward to see what reaction he had pulled out of the mech beneath thing. The yellow mech was shivering – with hate or passion, Megatron couldn’t tell – staring at the warlord for a moment, a pained look rising on his features as if he had just been stabbed. Perfect.

“Don’t worry,” whispered the warlord as he pushed the yellow mech’s chin up, placing his lips mere inches from the others. “I’m not afraid of you.”

After those words were murmured, it was easy to see a distinctive change in the younger mech below him, but Megatron just continued to wait. Sunstreaker, his spark burning with far too many heated emotions, slowly filled the remaining inch between Megatron’s and his lips, offering a soft wet peck on the other’s lips. He pulled away quickly as if surprised by his own action, but then he rose again to meet the Decepticon’s mouth, daring and demanding. Yet, as he worked his jaw in a hungry passion, Sunstreaker once again pulled away when Megatron didn’t react to his kiss, his optics shifting in question as he tried to find acceptance in Megatron’s gaze.

Leisurely, a grin crept on Megatron’s face and with the speed of a snapping croc the warlord had planted a painfully demanding and passionate kiss on the yellow mech’s lips, his tongue forcing itself into the stunned Autobot’s mouth, tasting his insides. Primus, this mech actually tasted better than most femmes he had had on long forgotten nights under Cybertron’s sky. The anger and pain to this mech only added flavor to him. Primus, he was going to enjoy this.

Slowly, Megatron moved his knees, releasing Sunstreaker’s hands as his own started to explore the frame below him, the kiss still strong and demanding, choking even. For a moment, those arms he had just released where still even though his fingers were roaming all over the other’s chest. It only took a whine from the engine below him and then he felt those yellow hands roaming upward onto his aft.

Hmm, this yellow mech knew what he liked.

Soon the two were a mass of limbs, growling and nipping at each others’ tongues like rabid dogs as both fought for dominance over the other. Not that the warlord minded. It was rather enjoyable to have an evening mate that put up a little bit of a battle and not just laid there like some type of toy low on batteries. Frag, he might just have to meet this Autobot again.

A hiss escaped the grey mech as he pulled out of the kiss, the yellow mech having nipped at his tongue a little too harshly, drawing energon. A low grumbled rose in Megatron’s throat as he considered beating the mech beneath him and just taking what he wanted. Half of him would just love to see that medic’s face as one of his precious patients limped into the room, bloodied and beaten, and raped to boot. Yet, before he could even raise a hand, he nearly cried out when that mouth he had been kissing pulled upward, tongue running up his chest as if tasting him.

Megatron’s optics dimmed as he enjoyed the wet feeling. Raping was way too messy anyway.

Then a yellow hand all but grabbed the warlord by the back of his neck forcing him down so Sunstreaker could start playing with the delicate cords of the neck. Megatron’s didn’t like that sharp dental plating so close to his one of his main energon wires, but he decided that this Autobot was far too proud to go through all this seduction just to deactivate him in that manner. So, his spark withering even faster in his chest in acceptance, Megatron raised his hand to play with one of those ear fins. A part of him just knew they were sensitive and with the moan that made the sucking stop, he was certainly right. Enough of this foreplay though, he was getting hot and his partner seemed ready to go as well. Megatron reached under himself, a mischievous grin offered to the panting Autobot as he pressed on his codpiece and popped it off, interfacing port now covered in a thin film of coolant which was threatening to start to drip out.

The Autobot’s gaze dragged itself from Megatron’s face and down to the hanging cord which seemed to be withering ever so slightly. It was a thick cable, thicker than most he had seen. He’d seen a fair number of different mechs due to Sideswipe’s sharing but not one so robust and certainly not because of him. He always shared with whoever was unlucky enough to fall into his brother’s clutches … except Bluestreak that is. Why was he thinking of that now and why did he even care? He got to choose for himself for once and he was liking it. Yes, it was Megatron but the tyrant probably didn’t even know his name, just his status as a warrior. After one good night of interfacing and the two of them would part with nothing but wet dreams for each from time to time, no strings attached.

“Afraid you can’t handle it,” purred the larger mech as he made his way down to Sunstreaker’s cod piece with lingering fingers, petting it a little as he tried to figure out where the release latch was. “You know it’s true what they say … older mechs do have larger interfacing cords.”

A look of defiance covered the younger being’s face, but he reached down and smoothly led those heavy, thick, fingers to the release latch on his crotch piece, his optics flickering for a moment as cool air sizzled on his hot interfacing cord and port. “I can handle it, but the real question is … can you handle me?”

A dark chuckled escaped the larger being as he reached down and felt the size of the front-liner’s cable. It was smaller than his but Primus it was hot and so was his tight port; the coolant was all but oozing as it tried to keep the sensitive circuitry cool. Well, he didn’t want to hurt his partner, as strange as that may seem, so the yellow mech would have to kick out a little more coolant than that to make sure Megatron’s entry didn’t damage such… lovely work.

Pulling away from the hand that had revealed his prize to him, the old warrior’s fingers suddenly dipped into the port which was surrounded by a collection of sensitive wires. The mech below him bared his dental plating, offlining his optics as he thrusted upward into Megatron’s hand. The smaller Autobot was even hotter than the Decepticon leader had anticipated so he pushed his hand deeper into the wires, gaining the sound of rushing fans from below. Then, with millennium old skilled hands, he reached deeper, his fingers curling upward towards the inner base of the interfacing cord. He started to rub that very delicate piece of wiring gaining a short cry and probably earning some scratched paint from the sun-colored mech below at the same time.

“W-w-what a-h-are you doi-ing,” asked the mech that was shivering in ecstasy, his fingers griping to Megatron’s shoulders with all the fire they could.

“Just making sure you’re nice and wet,” said the larger mech as he felt coolant start to seep downward over his fingers. “Not many know this but I never hurt my lovers… if it can be helped.”

Sunstreaker’s mind struggled to keep up. Primus, he felt so vulnerable shivering like a femme having her first go at interfacing, and he was more than ready to overload while Megatron was still cool and cold enough that he was merely talking. The younger mech tried to push off the withering feeling of his spark in order to reply logically.

“W-what a-a-about Starscream-mmmmm?” all but yipped the yellow Autobot as those fingers started to slowly thrust. “You-ou beeeeat the slaggg-gah-gg out of him a-all the time.”

Megatron wanted to sneer at such an insult, but the image of his beautiful mech that was all but begging beneath him was not worth the anger. “A nasty rumor. I wouldn’t touch him if he were the last mech alive.”

The mech below him strangely … smiled and Megatron found he liked that look, but he really wanted to see the look on his partner’s face when he hooked into him. Removing his hand carefully from the now oozing collection of wires and port, the older mech allowed his lover to watch him take that very same fluid and use it as a type of lube for his own cord. Then, with a satisfied grunt, he grabbed his present lover’s legs and spread him as wide as he would go, slowing when he noticed a wince from the Autobot. He’d have to watch that leg.

That information set aside, Megatron started to rub his hard wire over the open port, letting the other’s interface unit turn and lock downwards so they could enter each other. Sunstreaker, in return, started to rub against Megatron’s leaking port and cone, feeling Megatron’s own coolant start to escape his port. Generally, Megatron wouldn’t let his partner enter him as well when he was with another mech, but he wanted to taste the yellow mech completely and he would. So, without retort, he allow the Autobot to enter him, but he was still the dominate mech here being that the golden mech had been the one to turn his cord downwards underneath his port.

With anticipative ease, he slowly started to ease his cord into the other’s port. A small whine escaped his partner and the yellow mech shifted under him wanting more than just the tip inside him. Megatron pushed in a little more, his own port suddenly tightening as he felt the Autobot’s spike enter his tight, underused, port, snaking inside. The yellow mech moaned and tried to thrust upward and deeper. Megatron merely growled not liking the other’s spike inside of him, but for some reason he found himself easing down. Then, when a gasp escaped his yellow partner, he knew his interface cord had gotten too thick… he’d have to thrust in.

Megatron had made it a point to keep that gasp and almost pain filled expression in his memory banks forever when he finally thrust into the other, entering and hooking up into his yellow lover; his lover entered him as well, making him hiss as his underused port tightened around the strangely welcome rod. He was sure the bot below him was thinking the same thing, with that glazed look. It had burned to hook up into such hot and ready interfacing units, but a low animistic growl of acceptance followed none the less.

For a moment, Megatron remained still, his optics shivering in bliss at the feeling of being hooked up to such an individual. The Autobots didn’t have the slightest clue of the gem they had. Perhaps after he had crushed Optimus he’d ask the mech to join him. Yes, that would was a wonderful idea, but first things first. Sweet, sweet, overload.

Grunting as he pushed in a little deeper, Megatron started out slow with some grinding, allowing Sunstreaker’s interface units to get use to the large size, a pained whimper escaping the yellow fighter as he did. He’d bleed, Megatron was sure of it, but that just made him want the other more. It would be like he was taking the other’s first interfacing. Then, once Sunstreaker’s pained whimpers turned into heated gasps and his hips finally started thrusting up, Megatron started to pump, slowly at first as he was loyal to his word. He watched Sunstreaker bare his dentals with every thrust inward and then his lips would relax with every partial pull out. Soon, Sunstreaker started to set the rhythm of their hips, his legs widening more if it were even possible.

Megatron merely grunted in satisfaction and took that as a surrendering action and started to thrust into the other’s systems a little more violently, getting the sound of catching vents with every thrust inward. Primus and then the touching commenced. The yellow mech sure had wonderful hands and if Megatron wasn’t using his arms at the moment as supports so he could thrust deeply into the other, his fingers would be tasting every inch of the mech below him as well. For now he would settle with kissing thought and feeling the yellow mech’s cord inside him.

Soon, the two mechs were a collection of thrusting, kissing, touching limbs, groans now crawling out of Megatron’s lips as the yellow twin’s legs wrapped around the warlord’s body, his hands on the grey mech’s aft to help him push up harder so that his own cord would enter into Megatron’s ports almost as much as the tyrant’s spike was slamming deeply into Sunstreaker. It didn’t take long for the drawn out gasps to be turned into heated, frantic, breaths as the rhythm grew faster, coolant all but dripping from both of them now.

“M-m-megatron!” all but yelled Sunstreaker, his body starting to get that fuzzy feeling, overload was just a few more pumps away. “I-I’m about to overload. P-lease u-uhhhh.”

Before the yellow mech could even gasp properly, his chest opened of its own according. Yet, the yellow mech didn’t slide it shut, let himself remain bared. So, he wanted all he could get of Megatron, huh? Well, he had wanted all he could get of the younger mech so why not?

Megatron growled, not about to disappointed, his cords tightening as he pumped; his port was getting tight too and his partner was about to magnetize and overload, dragging only his underused port with him … he wanted to release everything. He didn’t want it to end just yet either. Generally, he’d never open his chassis, most lovers weren’t worth such attention. Oh, but this one. He wanted the yellow mech to remember him, and by Primus he would. Opening his chest, Megatron revealed his almost silver colored spark and watched as Sunstreaker’s optics stared at it with fascination. There was no hesitation after that.

Placing up a program to keep this spark-glass from opening to stop them from becoming spark-mates, Megatron leaned down their sparks lashing out like millions of moving vines trying to touch each other and once touching they lit up like small firecrackers. The scream was like a heavenly cry as his partner hit overload, pulling him down with him in more ways than one. His Cone spewing into the other and his port tightening around the yellow one’s cone as Sunstreaker’s hot spike released into him as well. It had been the younger mech’s scream more than the spark contact that had sent him over … the young mech had called out his name. He would have gladly done the same considering the bliss that overcame him but he did not know his lover’s designation. He planned to find out though.

As soon as he woke up, shutdown mode was already starting.

Collapsing in his bliss, Megatron laid on top of his lover feeling a few lingering waves of spark energy still spike through his interfacing units as he closed his spark chamber. Laying there, a moment, feeling his coolant drip down into his partner’s interfacing unit -gravity taking over - Megatron made sure to save the entire interfacing experience in his memory files as a high priority memory. Then, finally noticing that he was crushing his nearly offlined partner, he pulled himself out of the yellow warrior, earning a small moan. He stared at his dripping interface unit; it was covered in a little energon as well as coolant. He knew he would make his partner bleed. It was just something that happened when he interfaced with a younger model; older models had larger interfacing cords, but at least the slagger was nice and stretched out in case he met the young lover on the battle field and no one was watching. He wouldn’t have to be so slow with penetration then.

Feeling the afterward effect of over load haze starting to take over, Megatron rolled off his lover and turned on his side so he was pressing his chest against the yellow soldier’s back, giving a rumble of satisfaction. Generally, he would have left long before this point, but his systems were so buzzed he’d probably collapse if he tried. Besides, when the Autobot awoke he wanted the sunshine colored mech to remember that his body had been conquered and pleasured by the Great Megatron.

XXX
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