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Optimus reeled, optics cutting out. He skidded on the burning-hot ground, heels digging grooves as he struggled to steady himself, but even as his visual feed juddered and flickered back to life he was shaking off the punch and swinging back. He could taste energon on his tongue.
Megatron drew his fist back for another punishing piledriver and Optimus took the sudden opening as a chance to swing his elbow into the cording of Megatron's throat, hard enough he could feel something shatter under the force of the blow. Megatron reeled and Optimus followed up close, kicking Megatron in the front of the knee as hard as he could.
There wasn't anything like this, Optimus thought. Megatron, the fight. The energy running through his circuits, knowing everything hung in the balance of skill and speed and force. Megatron's vicious laughter as he scored a hit and the manic grin when Optimus scored his own. There wasn't anything like it. Sometimes he couldn't get enough. And Megatron was a glutton for punishment. Optimus could do anything; it was never enough. Sometimes he wondered how far he would have to go to keep Megatron down. But times like these he was almost glad that Megatron never failed to come back swinging.
"Are you ready to give in to me, Prime?" Megatron grinned, wild and cruel, energon trickling from a split in his lip. He drew his cannon arm back as the barrel began to glow, using the distance against Optimus. Like he was trying to force Optimus to close it. Well, Optimus could do that. He didn't want anything else.
"Never," Optimus snarled, and threw himself at Megatron.