Chapter Text
As Iacon rose to gleam on the horizon, Starscream slumped two metres down his seat and scoffed in obvious disgust.
Himself too dignified to slump in his seat like a stroppy youngling, even in the privacy of their state transport, Megatron turned from his viewport to shoot him a reprimanding glare. "Don't."
"Don't what?" Starscream challenged from down below, wings almost touching the seat of his chair and chin tucked against his chest.
"Make a scene like you did in Uraya," Megatron growled, leaning into his viewport again to take in the approaching view.
The metropolis consisted of gold and silver skyscrapers, the rigid architecture the Elders who had championed the northern pole's growth had favoured. It looked like something out of the magical fairy tales his pampered conjunx would have fawned over as a young prince - a beautiful, rich city filled with beautiful rich mecha.
He and Starscream knew better than what fanciful stories would have younglings believe though. The city was full of persecuted minorities and the corrupt elites that sapped them dry. The silver-gold gloss of Iacon's exterior only hid it's rotten core.
Their transport traversed along one of the lower flight lanes, twisting and turning between the forest of tall buildings. There was a distinct lack of advertisements cluttering the sides of the buildings, the jarring, neon pictures that Megatron knew as part of everyday life in Tarn, bombarding residents with slogans and promises for products they didn't need. Their absence gave Iacon a classier, more stoic feel.
Starscream was glaring at every passing scene through his viewport, the corners of his mouth dropping lower and lower.
"I fail to see what could possibly be so dreadful about this visit," Megatron reached over and knocked his knuckles against the underside of Starscream's chin lightly, trying to prompt a less miserable expression out of him. "A beautiful city, full of self-serving, power hungry politicians? Why, you'd be right at home with them."
Starscream brushed him away and sat up in a huff, his arms locked tightly around himself. "You would think that because you've never been here before, you backwater hillbilly. But thanks to these," he thumbed back to his twitching wings, "I'm not quite as well respected as the other visiting diplomats."
"I doubt that," Megatron frowned. "With Vos's comparative wealth and power-"
"Wealth and power doesn't mean much to them when they think the state leader less mentally competent than a brain-damaged scraplet," Starscream hissed. "Why else would they turn down offers of an alliance." He shot Megatron a dirty look then. "You think I would have conjunxed a lowly Tarnian like you if I'd had options? If I could have been wooed by some young, wealthy aristocrat with an uncle on the high council?"
Megatron's fist creaked as it curled into a fist. "Who is this aristocrat you want to run off with?"
"He doesn't exist, Megatron," Starscream told him impatiently. "To them, seekers like me are alright for a bit of fun, but they don't conjunx us and they certainly don't mix their coding with flight frames."
New to the position of leadership, Megatron was still somewhat unfamiliar with the politics of the wider planet. Having to rely on Starscream for most of his information was not ideal. Especially seeing as the seeker was such a notorious liar.
"If a prince isn't high caste enough for them-"
"It's not," Starscream interrupted seriously.
Megatron's opinion of Iacon dropped considerably.
"It's a wonder they invited us at all."
"They invited you," Starscream smiled sardonically, lifting a finger to begin one of his patronising lectures on the way of the world. "Because Vos may be filled with fluff-brained clowns, but it has wealth, and now that it's leader-" he pointed at himself. "-has finally entered into a political union through conjunxing with a sensible, trustworthy, wing-less Tarnian-" he pointed at Megatron, "I imagine the idea of having dealings with it is now much more appealing."
"I see."
Starscream scooted across the seat, his warm leg brushing Megatron's. In leaning over to see through Megatron's viewport he braced a slender blue hand on Megatron's upper thigh.
"In and out," Starscream spoke close to his audial, his breath warm and low. "We congratulate whatever puppet they're having dance for them in court, have one drink at the party, steal as much glass-ware as I can fit in your subspace, and then we're gone."
"A solid plan," Megatron nodded.
He saw Starscream's smirk in the reflection of the viewport shortly before he felt the warm press of lips to the arch of his cheek.
For Starscream, he'd weather whatever impossible social trials lay ahead.
Starscream stepped out of the transport first. He tipped his head back and took a deep, long inhale of Iacon. He pulled face, nose crinkled. "Urgh."
Megatron sampled the air himself, wondering what could possibly be worse than the foul pollution in Tarn, which Starscream had already become accustomed to. He frowned, "I don't smell anything."
"I know, it's horrible." Starscream grumbled, taking his arm and looping it through his own, adjusting their positions so it conformed to whatever unnecessary customs Iacon had. Simple hand-holding wasn't enough for these mecha. "Even their air is clean."
Megatron didn't comment. Starscream's distaste for everything and anything Iaconian bordered on the melodramatic, but Megatron was beginning to see his point. Iacon struck him as a place scrubbed of imperfection and undesirables. It was beginning to feel sterile and bland, colourless for all it's mirror shined surfaces.
He let Starscream lead him across the landing pad towards guards either side of the entry way. They hadn't brought an entourage -Starscream refusing to inflict Iacon on his trine- so they had to give proof of their identity was themselves. Megatron's guards merely glimpsed at his identity chip before handing it back. The guard dealing with Starscream looked between him and the projected information for a long while, purple optics narrow. A growl began to build at the base of Megatron's throat, but the squeeze of Starscream's hand in his forearm dissuaded him from blowing up. This was Iacon, and tossing security guards over the side of high-rise landing pads was frowned upon. More so when they lacked wings.
The guard handed the chip back and stepped aside.
"Told you," Starscream leaned into him to mutter when they were past them and stepping through the gold and crimson hallway.
Megatron couldn't resist looking back at the guards, making an effort to memorise their faces.
"One drink and we'll leave," he reassured his conjunx, facing the front again.
The passed through a second set of doors and into an empty room with no other way in or out - a dead end. Megatron looked around in confusion, tense and suspicious, but Starscream walked them to the centre of the room and stopped.
The floor beneath them shuddered, and Megatron almost stumbled when he realised the floor was a rising platform. The ceiling above their helms split apart and they rose through the floor into a grand hall. The platform clicked in place and Starscream stepped off, dragging Megatron with him towards the centre of the room - a place he had learned long ago his mate would always gravitate towards.
They passed a hovering serving drone and Megatron plucked two decorative glasses off it's tray-shaped helm, offering one to Starscream.
It wasn't taken. Starscream's purposeful stride had slowed to a halt, his mouth falling open in surprise. "That can't be..."
"What?" Megatron followed his gaze, and nearly dropped the drinks he had procured.
In the centre of the room, surrounded by sour-faced politicians and military generals, stood a brand-new Prime, joyfully painted in red, and blue and silvery whites. He was tall, thanks to enviously long legs, and his face was smooth and unblemished with youth - or more likely, a recent reformat. He was nodding along to whatever drivel the Iaconian Chancellor was currently spouting, a little crease of concern deepening between his brows. His optics darted between the ancient mecha and the rest of the room, clearly a mech longing for an escape.
He was handsome.
"We should go and rescue him," Starscream hissed, dark crimson optics locked on the Prime like missiles.
Megatron hummed vaguely in agreement, gaze focused somewhere more southwards. The Prime shifted, his long pale legs catching the light reflecting off the polished floor.
He was knocked from his musing by an insistent tug, Starscream fairly dragging him across the hall, much to the mixed shock and horror of the dignified Iaconian's who would obviously much rather the city had not invited a pair of uncivilised louts like them to such an exclusive party.
They closed in on their target. Megatron would never know if it was prejudice or Starscream's infamous reputation that sent the dignitaries scattering out of his path like he was emitting a powerful magnetic field. The commotion the huffing politicians were making drew the Prime's attention. His head snapped up, and his face broke into the most unexpected of smiles.
A small, genuine smile.
That somehow slammed into Megatron with all the force of a fusion blast, leaving an odd twisting feeling in the pits of his tanks - not dissimilar to how watching Starscream in flight could make him feel.
Oh dear...
The Chancellor was all but ignored when the Prime stepped forward with open arms to greet them.
"And here I was told you wouldn't come-" he began, his accent noticeably more relaxed than that of his cabinet, his vowels rolling gently into his consonants. He had not been of the Elite before his appointment to the Primacy, and Megatron found himself quickly warming to the mech before he knew even a single fact about him.
"Optimus-" An old mech at the Prime's side began, sounding like he was about to reproach him for his casual greeting.
"Optimus Prime," Starscream picked up on the given name and crooned in his most charming tone, smiling so dazzlingly even Megatron was struck by it.
He felt dull and blunt, trapped between the handsome two.
"We wouldn't have missed this for the world," Starscream continued, extending his hand, wrist limp.
Prime missed his cue to kiss it and grasped it in a firm handshake. Starscream's optics flickered in surprise and almost the entirety of his small frame moved with the up and down with the firm motion. Starscream stared at his released servo in confusion when Prime extended his hand to Megatron next. Megatron snapped himself out of his infatuated stupor long enough to remember to grab it. In his thoughtless desire to impress the Prime he squeezed far too hard, and heard metal groan under his fingers.
Starscream's claws dug into his forearm in warning.
Why are you trying to break his hand?!
Megatron fired back a wordless burst of frantic static (easily translatable as a shriek of 'Shut up! Shut up!') and did his best to ignore the wince of Prime's left optic when he drew his servo back.
He didn't comment on the attempted hand-breaking, or Megatron's utter lack of social skills - thank Primus. "I have heard so much about you both," he began warmly.
"Optimus," one of the aids appeared at the Prime's shoulder again, clearly trying to lead him away. "There is someone you must meet-"
It became clear to Megatron then, that their unexpected invitation had not been the result of the union between Vos and Tarn, but at the behest of the new Prime in front of him. A new, uncorrupted, naive Prime- a clean slate.
"You'll have to excuse me," Optimus said softly, his optics dimming and losing their spark. "This shouldn't take a moment..."
He followed his aid, but cast a glance back at them before being drawn into another gathering of politicians.
Starscream's hand on Megatron's forearm was like a vice.
They had had their one drink, and greeted the new leader. All that was left to do now was steal the glass-wear and make their way home. They had told Thundercracker and Skywarp they would be returning to Vos tonight, and the trine would be expecting their arrival.
Starscream released his arm and activated his comm link.
"What are you doing?" Megatron asked, though he already had a fairly good idea. Starscream liked to think himself secretive, but even after just the short months they had been together, Megatron could read the devious little seeker like a data-pad.
"Telling my trine not to wait up "
"We're staying then?" Megatron asked casually, taking a sip of his energon.
Starscream nearly smacked it out of his hand. "Of course we're staying! Were you even conscious for any of that?"
Megatron nodded understandingly, "This could be a great opportunity for us. Think, an alliance between Tarn, Vos, and Iacon-
"I don't care about alliances. I have my whole life ahead of me to worry about making nice with evil power-hungry racists," Starscream stared at him incredulously. "I want to frag him."
Megatron lowered his cube with a weary noise. "I should have known-"
"I'm hearing a lot of judgment for mech who just spend that entire interaction staring at his legs. And what was between them."
Megatron stared at his drink so he didn't have to meet his conjunx's optics. "I happened to be appreciating the shine on the floor."
Starscream ignored him, retaking his arm now that he had informed his trine of the change in plans. "Just stand there and look handsome. Let me do the legwork and we'll be in his berth before sun down."
Having been victim to Starscream's whiplash-like seductive charms himself, Megatron didn't challenge his well earned confidence.
Getting Prime away from his aids was their first task, but it seemed Starscream already had a tried and tested method of luring unsuspecting gentlemen away from prying optics.
He pushed Megatron away and oh so clumsily dropped his fancy glassware on the polished floor just a metre away from where Optimus was stood. It smashed and sent silver shards scattering across the floor, and, more importantly, his foot. He gasped loudly in embarrassed cringingly melodramatic shame, and Optimus was at his side in an instant, passing orders to the cleaning drones and reassuring Starscream that it hadn't been an expensive glass really, only Bronze Age renaissance work. One of the aids had turned purple in the face.
Megatron watched as Starscream despaired over his own clumsiness to the Prime, ever so subtly steering him further and further away from mecha that knew better than to let impressionable Prime's anywhere near a seeker with Starscream's reputation for poisoning minds.
He felt a twinge of annoyance watching Starscream touch and pat and lean against Optimus. He wasn't jealous - only he recognised the manufactured scenario as the exact same one that had led to him meeting and then conjunxing Starscream. A pretty seeker knocking over a shelf of weapons at the arena, Megatron marching over to reprimand his clumsiness-
-somehow ending up entwined with him in the arena washracks not ten minutes later...
You manipulative tart, he sent, meaning every word of it.
Starscream met his gaze when the Prime dropped to one knee before him to deftly pluck a shard of glass from his pede. Gullible old has-been.
Megatron ignored the swelling warmth in his chest as he made to close the distance between them.
"There you are, Megatron," Starscream admonished with exasperation. He laid a scandalously intimate hand on Optimus's forearm. "Thank the ancients someone here thought to come to my rescue."
"Any excuse to escape my sitters," Optimus murmured, casting a nervous glance over Starscream's wing to check no one was moving in to reclaim him.
Without preamble Starscream took one of Megatron and Optimus's hands in each of his and charged across the hall towards the gardens. "Best be quick then."
"Starscream," Megatron began, wondering what had happened to subtlety.
Starscream released him to bat one of the long curtains away from the doorway leading out into the crystal gardens. The crystals were cast in amber glows, beautiful against the sky's pink backdrop. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon already.
A tug halted Megatron mid-step when someone in their chain of linked hands stopped. He turned with Starscream to find Optimus looking out across the garden wondrously, blue optics spiralling open to take it all in.
"What's the matter?" Starscream simpered, bumping their arms together coyly. "The precious Prime has never been out of the citadel?"
"No," Optimus said simply. "Not since I..." He looked down at himself, then stopped, clearing his vocaliser.
Megatron felt Starscream's hand twitch in his own. Odd. The seeker didn't normally express any interest or concern in others beyond what he might be able to get out of it. Perhaps this Prime really did need a friend. Removed from his former life, he certainly didn't have any here.
They stood at the top of the stairs overlooking the gardens. It was a decadently open area in the centre of one of the densest cities on the planet, space that could have been used for much needed housing wasted on a show of wealth. Optimus, with his humble but hidden beginnings, must have been thinking along the same lines. That crease was back on his forehead.
Starscream had his helm tipped back, and rather than taking in the view of the gardens, he was appreciating the glow of the sun across the Prime's face. The incorrigible seeker was infatuated.
"This is a new frame," Starscream said, releasing Megatron to stroke overfamiliar fingers down Optimus's chest. Megatron suppressed a shudder when his processor brought forth the sensory memory of those light fingertips ghosting over him. "Beautiful work."
Optimus nodded, hardly taking any notice. "They kept some original features, but it still feels-" He lifted his hand, the one not ensnared by Starscream's claws, and closed it into a fist, "-foreign to me. Like I'm not myself."
"This is an interesting feature though, isn't it Megatron," Starscream purred, lifting his hand to gesture to the sides of Optimus's face, where the Prime's helm had been formated to conceal a retractable face-mask. "Whatever would a Prime need a battle-mask for? And when he has such a handsome face at that?"
Starscream was flirting without a hint of subtlety now, but Optimus seemed to take his words as a suspicious query. "A precaution, I'm sure."
Starscream moved away from Megatron altogether so he could shimmy up to Optimus. Megatron sighed and leant against the stair railing, watching with his arms crossed. Optimus didn't seem to get what Starscream's intentions were- perhaps too sheltered or too professional to even imagine that someone could be such a outlandish tramp.
He settled a friendly hand on Starscream's shoulder. "If you're cold we could return inside."
"Or you could warm me up?" Starscream said sultrily, and such a bold statement would have had most mecha frothing at the mouth. Iaconian's may hold outlandish prejudices against seekers, but even they couldn't deny the simple universal truth that they were beautiful.
And Starscream was at the end of his tether when the Prime turned out of his arms towards the curtains leading back into the hall, "Of course, I'm sure I can find you some sort of shawl."
You're losing your touch, Megatron arched a brow at Starscream's dark, burning face.
Fine! Starscream was so angry his cheeks had filled with hot air. You do it then if you're so irresistible!
"Gladly," Megatron said aloud, and stepped after Optimus, caught his wrist, and-
"I believe my conjunx meant a more old fashioned method of warming."
Optimus looked at the black hand locked around his wrist, "An old fashioned-?"
Megatron had no patience left in him to wait around for Optimus to figure out his meaning. He tugged him close, their armour collided with a clang, and seconds before Megatron's lips closed atop of his, a battle-mask shot into place across them. Megatron snapped his head back in surprise, his lips having come within a hairbreadth of getting caught between them.
Optimus's bright blue optics blinked at him. "But you're conjunxed?!" He blurted, optics darting to Starscream.
Starscream's frowning face appeared at their sides, the arches of his cheeks still a little flushed. Megatron rather liked the look on him. It often took much more than an innocent misunderstanding to bring about a blush on that seeker's face.
"We are," Megatron agreed. "And in conjunxing we agreed to share all that we have and are-"
"And what's his, is mine," Starscream added, pointedly looking at the hand Megatron had locked around the Prime's wrist.
He slipped under their arms and began wriggling his way between their frame's. He was a head shorter than them both. He tipped it back to peer up at Optimus, lifting one claw to trace the seam of the battle-mask down the middle. "Besides, what better way to form a union?"
They meant a casual frag to break the ice, but Optimus-
"You... You want to conjunx me?"
Megatron felt his own shock mirrored in Starscream as the seeker stiffened. Slowly, they looked at one another, and though the idea had not come to them before (Starscream even claiming to be against trading more of his spark for further poltical gain) looking at each other they came to a wordless agreement. Very quickly, and very easily.
Vos and Tarn and Iacon? They would be unstoppable.
What more, Optimus was a handsome mech.
"Yes," Megatron stated.
"Oh yes," Starscream purred, caressing his chest.
"Most definitely."
"Advise you, conjunx you, frag you -the works," Starscream clasped his hands together. "Look at it this way. You're going to need us. You invited us here because you knew you needed us.
Well I," a hint of pink was glowing out of the top of the battle-mask, like Optimus was blushing under it. "I am - I was a fan of your work," he looked at Megatron.
Starscream made an exasperated noise. "Yes, he's very good at smashing heads together-"
"I was referring to your writing," he told Megatron, "Towards Peace-"
Something thumped in Megatron's chest again. He could hardly hear Starscream's incredulous, 'You've actually read that?' when he dove in for a second time, uncaring of the battle-mask, to kiss the handsome Prime. Optics widened in surprise, but almost on it's own volition the mask shot back, and Megatron's mouth collided with soft, pliable lips.
He pushed at Optimus's lips with his own, shifting kissing parting his lips and allowing Megatron to deepen it, his tongue flicking out to drag across the bottom of Optimus's. A low hum sounded when Optimus tilted his helm. Megatron took a step closer, sliding a hand around the small of Optimus's back.
He felt Starscream wriggle between them with a needy sound, leaning up to nuzzle their necks and under their chins. Megatron drew back slightly, and like a starving mech Starscream leapt up to claim Optimus's wet, plush lips for himself, assaulting him with a much more thorough, messy sort of kiss, tongue sliding past lips and sharp denta nipping. Megatron heard Optimus grunt in surprise at the roughness. He understood his shock. It took some time to grow accustomed to Vosian Kissing.
Optimus broke away with a gasp of breath. His lips were swollen. Megatron purred appreciatively and leaned in again.
"We -we should make an announcement," Optimus struggled to speak between Megatron's short, but no less passionate, kisses. "Regarding our intentions to-"
"So those stale old mecha in there can sabotage it before it's even official?" Starscream said sternly.
"They wouldn't-"
"So naive," Megatron purred affectionately, kissing along the side of his face and licking over his audial to make him gasp.
"They don't have your best interests at spark, Optimus," Starscream said slyly, smiling.
"Oh, and you do?" Some heat made it into Optimus's voice then. Megatron rather liked the harsh edge to his fine. He kissed the cables his neck with more ferocity. He felt Prime's fingers dig into his shoulders, clinging to him.
"We could do, yes," Starscream kissed the underside of his chin. They crowded him, making it difficult for him to overthink. "Trust takes time to build."
"Through interfacing?" Optimus grunted, tilting his neck back to allow them more access. Megatron sucked a cluster of wires into his mouth, running his tongue over them, back and forth. Optimus groaned.
"Just think of it as a short cut," Starscream murmured, poking his head out of their tangle and looking around the so-far deserted gardens. "Isn't it Megatron?"
Megatron recalled how his and Starscream's less than tradition courting had comprised of an entire three cycles holed up in Starscream's palace quarters, going at it like turbo bunnies. They had spoken so little that Starscream claimed not to have known his full designation until he'd heard it at the ceremony.
Conversation had not been a priority then. Perhaps this time they could multitask.
Megatron bullied them both back against the stair railing and began to roll his hips against Starscream's aft, driving the seeker against Optimus. Optimus's hand found a wing and squeezed.
Starscream squeaked.
The noise snapped some sense into the Prime.
"We can't do this out here!" Optimus snatched his hand back and blurted. Megatron was pleased to hear how breathless he sounded.
"Yes!" Starscream blurted, arching into him, desperate for warm hands on his wings again.
"No," Megatron pulled back, thinking of how little the guests at the pompous party already thought of him and his mate- and getting caught with their precious Prime wasn't going to make stealing him away for a shotgun union any easier. "We need somewhere private."
He and Starscream looked to Optimus.
"I haven't explored the citadel a great deal," Optimus admitted, "But, there may be one place I know of..."
The Prime's State Room was a large open space at the back of the citadel, facing out across the vast city. Framed with regal artwork on all sides, it's centrepiece was a wide golden desk bigger than the 'Titan' sized berth Starscream had in his royal quarters at the Vosian palace. Megatron caught Starscream staring at it, working out logistics.
The seeker nodded in approval, striding forwards to boost himself up. "This will do."
He laid across it flat on his back, his helm hanging over the edge. Optimus blinked in surprise, watching Megatron move to stand by Starscream's helm.
"On the Prime's desk?!" He exclaimed, scandalised. He quickly turned the crystal bust of Sentinel Prime around so it was facing the opposite direction.
"Your desk now," Starscream reminded him, shifting to correct the angle of his wings before tipping his head back and letting his mouth drop open.
Prime emitted a burst of static, loitering at the other end of the desk. "You're just going to - does foreplay not exist in the South?"
"This is foreplay," Megatron grunted, stepping forwards with his thighs parted. He tilted his hips forwards and sighed deeply when a wet, dexterous tongue began to lap at his codpiece. He cupped Starscream's chin to adjust the angle of his head. Lips latched onto the panel and sucked lightly, coaxing it open.
Megatron teased the tip of his emerging spike against Starscream's lips, before sliding it inside the warm, wet heat. Starscream breathed raggedly through his secondary vents as he took him whole, relaxing his throat tubbing to let Megatron slide smoothly in and out. Megatron could sense Optimus watching them, swaddled in his own climbing heat but too impeded by whatever social, etiquette the stuffy Iaconian's had drummed into him to act.
Megatron let Starscream suck on him a few moments more, before withdrawing from his mouth and taking his wings to flip him into his front.
Starscream scrambled onto his hands and knees and shot Prime a come hither look over a wing, wriggling his backside enticingly. "You're not just going to watch, are you? Don't you want an expert to break in that new frame?"
"This is beyond improper," Optimus found both his voice and sense of authority to murmur disapprovingly.
Still, he came forward, reaching for Starscream's hip. The second he touched it, Starscream rose off his hands and sat back on his heels, pressing his wings up against the Prime's strong chest. Optimus's arm came around his cinched waist on instinct, and Megatron watched his seeker stretch up against the Prime, arm reaching back to cup Optimus's thick neck.
Megatron came around the desk and closed the distance between them again, standing so Starscream was half sandwiched between them. He leaned past the seeker to kiss Optimus, tentatively at first, but growing in passion when he took Optimus's hand resting against Starscream's cockpit and began to guide it down, towards the heat between the seeker's thighs.
Starscream exhaled sharply against his collar seam when Optimus's fingers brushed his valve. One sunk in with a soft, slick noise, and then Starscream was undulating between them in desperate need, claws scratching at Megatron's chest.
Megatron was too caught up in kiss to register the sting of his claws, lost in it, almost forgetting Starscream was between them at all. Megatron's spike found the entrance to Starscream's valve and he wedged himself closer. Optimus stumbled back but surged forward with a rev of his engines. Stuck between them, Starscream wheezed, helm thrown back to breathe.
Optimus's knuckles brushed the heated shaft of Megatron's spike when he spread the outer mesh of Starscream's valve with his first two fingers. He pushed a silver-white thigh aside with his other hand. Megatron rolled his hips forward into Starscream delicious heat, and only when Starscream's claws bit into a delicate seam on his hip did he drag himself out of Optimus's kiss to moan.
"I am still here, you know," Starscream scowled at them both.
Before Starscream could start with the usual complaints, Megatron kissed him instead, steadily building up the pace. Optimus followed his lead, his hands roaming Starscream's wings, his mouth kissing up and down the side of Starscream's neck. The seeker was making delightfully soft little noises between them, muffled by Megatron's kiss. He overloaded with low, guttural noise into Megatron's mouth, his wings twitching sporadically.
Megatron continued a while longer, moving faster and faster until overload began to approach. As it thundered closer, almost to the point of no return, he pulled out of Starscream and gripped his spike's base, his fuel pump pounding, head foggy, leaving Starscream writhing in protest.
Optimus purred against Starscream's back, a noise so deep it cut through Starscream and rattled Megatron's spark in it's very casing. Starscream's optics faded to black and he pushed back against Optimus instead. They twisted and adjusted, then Megatron's watched Starscream's optics flash bright pink when Optimus pressed inside him.
Megatron reached between Starscream's legs and felt the length of Optimus's spike pressing into his conjunx, thick and silky smooth. Brand new, and hypersensitive, if the volume of Optimus's moans was any indication of things.
Megatron rolled his fingers over Starscream's anterior node until the seeker overloaded again. The bite of his tight valve on Optimus's spike dragged the Prime into an overload of his own- quick to come and brutal in strength. His powerful voice yelled so loudly Megatron feared he'd alerted the citadel guards.
They'd be looking for him by now...
Megatron kissed them both through their overloads, alternating between one pair of swollen, panting lips and the next. Starscream began to sag, exhausted. His high-maintenance frame was not equipped for this sort of stamina. Megatron let him slip out from between them gently, and watched out of the corner of his optic as he rolled away and laid on his side on the desk, leaving a trail of carnage in his wake.
Megatron found himself unexpectedly bullied onto the deck as well. He sat back against the edge with Optimus following.
Optimus climbed into his lap, a weight far heavier than Megatron had become accustomed to. He took broad hips in his hands and Optimus was so tall he had to tilt his head back to continue their endless kisses. His lips were swollen and numb, but he couldn't stop, and neither could Optimus. Not until a wet valve was sliding down his spike and it was a choice between breathe or suffocate.
They panted into each other's open mouths, Optimus rising up and down on his knees, his hands cupping the back of Megatron's helmet. Megatron pinned him down and ground up into him, working his spike deep into the luscious heat. Optimus groaned. It was such a low, vulnerable noise, so different to Starscream. He overloaded in Megatron's lap, spike jetting a line of transfluid up their chests, and undone at the sight of a saintly Prime driven to ecstasy on his spike, Megatron followed shortly afterwards.
They collapsed back across the desk in a heap, Starscream crawling in next to him and Optimus falling at his other side. He curled his arms around them, feeling a deep sense of protectiveness, of ownership.
He peered between their handsome faces, one a prince, the other a Prime, and wondered what otherworldly forces were at work that made it possible for a mech like himself to luck out so frequently.
He smirked at the ceiling, and felt Starscream smile against his neck.
"Told you I could get him before sun down."
Megatron lifted his heavy helm enough to peek out the large window behind the desk, where the last stripes of sunlight were disapearing beneath the horizon.
"I believe you said we'd be 'in his berth before sundown'," He teased.
A slap was dealt to his chest. Luckily, Optimus was already in recharge on his other side, and didn't yet know what level of dysfunction he had signed himself up for.
Epilogue
"I can't help but wonder if this was all an elaborate trap," Optimus accused Megatron some weeks later, buffed and polished to the nines because even if Iacon did not endorse their union (were rabidly against it, in fact) the ceremony had to meet with their impossible standards.
"You're accusing the wrong mech," Megatron said lightly. "Starscream was the mastermind."
"You lured me away-" Optimus began listing off their crimes. "Seduced me with a gorgeous seeker-"
"I thought I played some part in the seducing as well?"
"You damn well know you did," Optimus glared.
Unbeknownst to Optimus, Megatron's tank fluttered. He rather liked it when he could rouse that well hidden temper of Optimus's. He was looking forward to pushing those many, many righteous buttons of his in the time to come.
"I had invited you because I was interested in forming an alliance regardless," Optimus continued. "You did not have to- to 'sparkling-trap' me."
Megatron laughed aloud. "Starscream has no more control over his gestation tank than you do the sun, Prime."
"Two sparklings," Optimus began rubbing his helm, because if his new frame, his new life, his new leadership role wasn't enough, he was about to become a sire as well.
"One of them is mine," Megatron reminded him to soften the blow. "In relation to it's coding, that is. Though as we're about to be conjunxed, they'll both be our problems. As will Starscream."
Stood in the wings of the main stage where the ceremony was about to take place in front of millions, Optimus peered backstage to look for their third mate. The poor seeker was struggling with a ruthless bout of nausea, and it would be just his luck that another wave of it swept through him on stage in the middle of the vows.
A small part of Megatron hoped it would, just to spite the sour faced officials that had begrudgingly organised the entire event, now all glowering at them hatefully.
"You're under no obligation to stick around for the sake of the new-sparks," Megatron reminded Optimus one last time. "Seekers trine precisely for this reason."
"Because they anticipate the sires of their young abandoning them?" Optimus asked, aghast.
"No, because seekerlings are when the unholy spawn of Unicron meet Insection larvae from Hell. Carriers need as many caregivers as they can possible get."
To his surprise, his words didn't seem to fill the Prime with mortal dread. He nodded acceptingly, optics twinkling.
"I'm sure ours will be even worse," he murmured defeatedly.
"Why is that?" Megatron arched a brow.
"Alright!" Starscream's high voice rose behind them.
They turned unison to view the out-of-sorts seeker behind them, his hands on his hips, crown lopsided, a slightly green tinge to his cheeks.
"I'm ready."
Megatron began to shake his helm, "You look-"
"-like I'm about to purge over the first mech that tells me I am anything less than angelic on the day of my ceremony," Starscream's optics flashed like lasers. He threw out his hands to clear a path between them, stomping past. "Let's get this over with."
Optimus shot Megatron a knowing look before following.
Yes, Megatron silently agreed, stepping out with Optimus. Their seekerlings would be worse. Much worse.