Duobus

What Megatron said hung in the air like a ghost. How could that be possible? The planet was Primus! Optimus had been taught that ever since his Spark-ling days!

"Isn't this Primus?" Optimus rapped gently on the wall.

"Are you an idiot?" Another snarl. "Shut up and come on!"

It was Megatron's serious expression and urgent tone that told Optimus he'd better listen.

The stairs were dizzyingly steep and Megatron took them at a pace Optimus wouldn't dream of. It took several minutes to reach the bottom, which looked like a simple well with a metal cover over the top.

Megatron indicated a tiny hole in the cover's center. Optimus peered inside and--sure enough--a figure identical to Primus lay on its back at the bottom.

A sound sent him scrambling backwards into Megatron's chest. For once, Megatron didn't offer a sharp retort. They watched as the cover swung upwards and the "well" descended into the floor, leaving the prone figure lying on a low recharge berth. Optimus and Megatron had to kneel just to look at him.

Primus was...beautiful...his armor ornate in shades of blue, silver and gold, and his gleaming, innocent face looked too young to belong on a being as old as the universe. Though he was lying down, the rival mechs could tell he was at least twice their height, if not larger.

Optimus reached out, hesitated and laid his hand on Primus' smooth cheek. Touching the pure, clean face of his god with such a filthy hand sent a strange pang through his Spark. He felt somehow...unworthy...which prompted him to draw back and meet Megatron's eyes.

"Can he hear us?" Megatron asked.

"I think s--"

"Yes..." The figure on the berth interrupted. His voice was weak, barely above a whisper. It took Optimus a moment to realize Primus was speaking the standard language. "I can always hear you. Your thoughts, your dreams and your desires. I know them all."

Terror crossed Megatron's expression. He ducked his head in apparent shame, his hands rising to cover his face. Primus turned towards him. He lifted a delicate black hand and cupped the back of Megatron's head.

"No, no...I won't strike you down, little one! I don't condemn those who do not believe in my existence. Their Sparks are here with the believers--but--I have so little time..." he paused, flinching, his face tensing in a rictus of pain. "The Allspark itself has grown unstable. Sparks are no longer neutral. They are coming into being as one faction or the other, battling even before they have bodies. The fighting has poisoned my life force, my ability to create. It is why you see me in this body--I am conserving what little power I have left to speak to you."

"Our doing," Optimus whispered. "All of this...it's our doing."

Primus nodded his head, his optics dull. "Yes."

Megatron clutched Primus' hand in both of his own. Optimus had to look away because he couldn't bear the sight of Megatron's walls crumbling.

"Optimus. Look at him."

"I...I can't."

"You must," Primus smiled softly, "He is your mirror."

Megatron was weeping. He did it silently, trying to hide it, but the mech fluid trickled in golden streams down his dirty face. Optimus watched them slide almost sensually over his cheeks, nose and lips, leaving clean streaks where shiny metal showed through the grime. "I shouldn't care. I shouldn't care. I wanted to conquer. To rule. To hold this world and every other in my grasp! I don't understand why I--"

"You're Cybertronian, Megatron." Optimus said. He felt the prick of tears on the surfaces of his optics. And what Primus meant suddenly hit with a truth that nearly floored him. "You're feeling what I'd feel in your position. And I..."

Between them, Primus nodded his crowned head. "I can not be saved...but the Allspark can. You must be willing."

"Allspark? But...Primus! That's--that's your life force! Your Spark! You can't survive without it!"

"You're half-correct, Optimus. I can't survive without it, but it can survive without me. Then...time can heal."

"This doesn't make any sense!" Megatron smashed his fist against the berth. He'd been quiet up until then, and the tears left his voice rougher than usual. "Stop talking riddles! You're a god, aren't you? If you truly held the power of creation in your hands, you could make the Sparks do your bidding! You should mold time to your will and--"

"Oh, Megatron...if only it were that simple." Primus chuckled the way human fathers chuckled at unruly children on Earth. He looked over at Megatron with nothing but love in his eyes. "You see time as a single line. It is a...mortal thing..." He gasped, again appearing to be in pain. "Time is multidimensional...it is infinite. Every choice you make opens another possibility. Your choices don't simply lead forward--they go backwards, left, right, up, down and diagonally. Time curves and curls around us like scratches in paint. But sometimes, when things go wrong...a poor choice...or ignorance that allows hatred to continue...that is when time itself suffers a fatal wound. It can unravel, dashing destinies and tearing lives apart. Nothing can resolve it other than to find the moment it all went wrong and make it right. Do you have any idea how two people can affect the universe?" He flinched again, gasping, "You two...you caused the rift with your war. You can also heal it...you can save this world and thousands more."

"No! This is...insanity! Time is immutable! How can we, as mortals, change what has already happened?" Megatron narrowed his optics.

"Megatron! Were you even listening?" Optimus gazed balefully across the berth before turning once more to the prone figure lying between them. "My apologies. What do you mean by 'healing time?'"

"Exactly what I said. If you don't..." Primus winced again, as if the short, angry exchange Optimus and Megatron just had somehow hurt him, "...Cybertron will die. The Allspark itself will cease to be--and so will you. There will be no afterlife, no promise of rebirth, no dreams...all will be lost. It will spread through the universe like a virus. Worlds will perish. Space will become a cold, lifeless void. From this universe it will spread to others. All existence...everything...rests in your hands."

The words were a cold reality ringing in Optimus' ears. He leaned over Primus, desperate for answers. "How can we correct this?"

And Primus met his gaze, his soft expression flickering with sagely wisdom.

"You must unite the Allspark again. Time will heal itself when all are one."

"And how do we do that?" Optimus hedged, ignoring Megatron's heated glare.

"With the ultimate act." Primus replied simply.

They were just words...yet their effect was like a punch to the head.

Megatron lost his balance and crashed onto his side. It would've been funny if the situation wasn't deathly serious. He reluctantly accepted the hand Primus offered and pulled himself back into a kneeling position.

"People like us aren't meant to love," Megatron spoke once he'd regained his dignity. "We aren't--"

"You can't hide from me." An amused grin split Primus' flawless face. His teeth were small, shiny and perfectly straight. "You followed the doors."

Megatron's teeth clenched in frustration. "We copied the carvings. Any fool can do that!"

"What about the mornings you spent listening to his chant? And you..." He turned now to Optimus, his smile never faltering, "What about the moment you studied his face in the tunnels? What about the kiss in my digestive chamber? What about your behavior in the room before this one?"

"Simple lust!" snarled Megatron.

Primus' smile faded, but his eyes and voice remained gentle. "Then what stopped you from ending your war? What held back the countless final shots you could have taken during the course of your battles? The markings on your bodies?"

Nothing Primus said had been snapped or spoken sharply, but the last statement rang with the tell-tale tone of reprimanding. Both Optimus and Megatron ducked their heads, too sheepish to speak.

"All you need...all that is necessary...is for you to acknowledge what you feel. Lay down your pride for a few minutes and feel what is there. The rest will be easy."

Gracefully, Primus raised his left hand and splayed it against Megatron's chest. He did the same to Optimus with his right. His optics glowed brilliant red. The grooves in the ground beneath their feet shone blue-white a split second before billions of Sparks swirled up from the metal floor. They looked like stars glistening in the darkness and cast beautiful reflections across Megatron's optics.

"I give you my life. Use it to save yours." Primus whispered. His innards revved audibly, and his face twisted without losing its odd beauty. He groaned, rolling his head side to side in obvious agony. The Sparks in the room whirled along his arms to slam into Optimus and Megatron's chests.

Both mechs screamed in surprise and pain as the thoughts, dreams and memories of over a billion mechs flooded their bodies. Light rays burst from their eyes and open mouths. No words could measure the pain jangling their bodies. Did Primus suffer this agony every second of their ceaseless war?

It went on forever...and ended in a nanosecond.

Megatron wobbled and collapsed. Primus' hand cupped his back and guided him to lie on the ground.

Optimus didn't remember passing out. One moment he was on his knees and the next, his sensory systems flickered online. He saw how the beautiful blue, gold and silver had faded from Primus' body, leaving him the dull gray of death. His optics were still glowing faintly in the darkened room. The sound his intakes made...the clicking rattle of condensation forming where it shouldn't...made Optimus' systems run cold.

Death. That sound meant death. Primus was dying. The very being who gave life to Cybertron was about to die.

Primus tugged gently on Optimus and Megatron, pulling them to lie against his chest like children.

"Tell me your greatest regrets. You need not speak, just think."

Optimus felt something cold open behind his Spark as he clung to his creator's armor, fighting back grief.

My greatest regret is failing to stop the mining situation. I should have looked into it...information about it passed my desk countless times. I always thought the situation would resolve itself. And when it didn't, I fought them. Rather than listen to their side of the issue...I chose to fight! They wanted freedom and my own foolish prejudices, the thrill I got from battle...I made the wrong choice. My ignorance started this war. It's my fault! I'm...I'm so sorry...Primus, forgive me. I've killed you...

What was Megatron thinking throughout all of this? He seemed to just lay there, staring into space while Primus cradled him. His face, as usual, appeared cold. Perhaps that was his natural, relaxed expression--Decepticons were always rumored to have faces "angry over nothing."

Optimus wondered if he'd been wrong about all those times he thought he'd angered Megatron. Was he always glaring, or were his eyes just naturally cold? Did the scar marring his visage render his expression a perpetual scowl? Had his own foolish, pre-conceived notions blinded him yet again because Megatron didn't broadcast his emotions like an Autobot?

What would a person like him regret?

Optimus' thoughts halted when he felt Primus kiss his brow and turn away to offer the same to Megatron.

"All is forgiven, my creations." Primus laid back on the berth, and the little strength he had left bled away into oblivion.

Megatron turned his head a fraction of a degree and met Optimus' gaze. It wasn't his eyes that sent a message--it was his hands...they clung against Primus' chest as if his life depended on it.

Primus went on in a gentle whisper, "I leave the rest up to you. Save this world. Save me. Stop the fighting. Please...for everyone's sake...for your own...you, who were once the bitterest enemies...must...love."

Optimus reached out and laid his hand over one of Megatron's. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Primus' optics go dark. The large hands resting on their backs slipped free, having nowhere to fall but out to either side. Beneath their joined hands, Primus' chest plates trembled faintly before becoming still.

Shuddering, Optimus tried to tell himself that only Primus' body was dead. His Spark, the Allspark, still lived on. But...he died so all those Sparks had a chance at survival.

The Autobot leader heard himself weeping quietly in the silence. He didn't even remember starting to cry. Everything he'd suffered through--the faces of people long gone, the fading memories and, now, the death of his god--seemed to catch up in one fell swoop. He gave up on trying to be strong in front of his rival...he just put his head down and sobbed.

"What good is conquering a world without people to rule?" Megatron wondered out loud, his voice flat. He wasn't dismissing...Optimus realized...they just didn't share the same views on death and grief. Autobots mourned while Decepticons seemed to spare only a silent moment before moving on. They had to move on because their work demanded it. Because the upper class didn't care if the underground scum died.

"Optimus..." He went on, not meeting Optimus' eyes, "do you recall the conversation we had about relationships?"

Why would he bring that up now?

"Yes."

"I have all the time in the world." He chuckled, and it sounded bitter. "And I'm trapped in this Prim--this room--with the only person I ever fantasized about interfacing with." His chuckle erupted into all-out laughter. "Can you imagine how hard a secret like that is to keep from your men?"

Optimus couldn't bring himself to discuss sex in the presence of Primus' dead body. It seemed sacrilegious. He sat up and slowly, gently, folded Primus' hands respectfully on top of his abdomen. Then he watched as the corpse crumbled into dust the second he and Megatron stepped away from the berth. The particles fell through the grooves in the floor and disappeared. Not a single mote remained.

It brought Optimus to his knees. He saw nothing beyond flashbacks of their world's ravaged surface. How long had Primus suffered before this moment? How long had he suffered because of them?

Megatron's mocking air deflated. He shook his head in amazement. "I'll never understand how Autobots survived while dwelling on a loss."

Optimus stood out of his memories. He managed a tiny half-smile. "I don't think I'll ever figure out how Decepticons could have sex and go to back work five minutes after losing someone close."

"If you'll excuse the pun...I believe we're both prime examples of our lifestyles."

That made Optimus snicker in spite of himself. Megatron was trying to make him feel better...how strange! He never thought Megatron had any motivational skills, yet here he was, trying to help him transcend a horrible moment.

And there wasn't a body left...just an empty berth large enough for two average-sized mechs to recharge side by side. Optimus knew what uniting the Allspark again entailed. He never, in his wildest dreams, imagined such an act would save the world. Especially when it involved the very mech he'd been fighting for the last eight million years.

Megatron sat down on the berth, pulled the cylinder off his waist and overturned it. The last energon cube rattled until it fell into his open palm. He stared dejectedly at it before holding it out to Optimus.

"Um..."

"Oh, shut up. You'd do the same. I know you too well."

"You haven't had any rations for three days."

"And you've gone four. Take it, Optimus."

It seemed stupid to fight over who was more altruistic, but Optimus still felt guilty. Besides, one cube wouldn't stave off the inevitable. Even with a long recharge, the act of intercourse required more energy than they had. The next time they laid down to recharge afterward would be the last.

And they both knew it.

Would they know if they succeeded? Would the universe notice before hate tore it apart? Would it know what happened if it survived?

Pondering hurt Optimus' CPU. He accepted the meager, bite-sized cube and palmed it. The power it offered was negligible at best.

"It's over." Megatron whispered.

Optimus nodded and sat down beside him. He looked over, and had to refresh his visual relays several times to make sure his optics weren't deceiving him. Where were Megatron's Decepticon sigils?

"Megatron...your markings."

"What about them?" Megatron frowned, "Where are yours? They couldn't have chipped off...oh," he flashed his fangs in a quick grin that disappeared just as quickly.

Suddenly, the room seemed awkward. Or was it the silence? Neither seemed to know what to say now that they weren't locked in battle.

"You liked what I did to you in the other room." Megatron said.

"I think I'm going to recharge for awhile," Optimus cut the line of thought off. To avoid making Megatron angry, he added, "You should, too. We're probably going to burn a lot of energy and you have less fuel in your tanks than I do."

"You love to stall, Optimus." Megatron groused. He flopped down on his back with a loud clang that rang like a bell in the quiet chamber.

Optimus settled beside him--mildly dismayed at having no room to rest without their shoulders touching--and stared upwards at the text covering the walls. Even his Ancient knowledge wouldn't let him decipher it. Maybe it was a language even older than Ancient.

Again, it grew quiet, only for Megatron to break it one more time.

"All my life, I've known nothing but work and war. I don't know what it means to be gentle...I don't know what love is...I don't think I know nearly as much as I thought I did. I...don't know how to live without war."

"We'll learn," Optimus said, hoping he didn't sound silly. "You've learned a lot. You gave me the last cube when you could've easily taken it yourself."

"Tch! Your fuel's lower than mine. I process a lot slower than you."

"That's not the point. You gave something up. I've never seen you do that, Megatron."

Optimus felt rather than saw Megatron roll his optics in the dark.

"Good night, Orion."

"Good night."

Except recharge eluded Optimus. Judging by the whirring servos on his left, Megatron had the same problem. He found himself afraid to even twitch and make his presence obvious again. What they would do in the next few hours...fantasizing was one thing, but reality? He hadn't had time to wrap his mind around how he'd touch Megatron, let alone make love to him.

I'll just cross that bridge when I come to it. Maybe--

Megatron moved.

Optimus hurriedly shut his optics off to appear asleep. He felt the other's eyes on him--curse it, why did he always turn his head towards his left whenever he slept?

"Optimus," Megatron whispered.

Optimus continued his façade. He kept his breath cycles slow. The other mech's oil, hydraulic fluid and hot metal scents mixed into the smell of dust flooding his olfactory sensors. Usually, dusty smells were considered offensive...they were signs of unseemliness...yet on Megatron's body, it sent Optimus' excitement soaring.

A pointed fingertip traced the smooth hollow beneath his bottom lip.

"I have two regrets...one was failing to save Twister from the acid. It isn't the death I regret so much as letting my own fear get the better of me. However...there is one sin more grievous than anything I've done in my lifetime. I believe the Ancient phrase for such a blight is mea culpa...heh, there, now you know the only Ancient phrase I can say." Then he paused, sighing, "I can't forgive myself for silencing your chant. Your voice was the only peace I ever knew."

This was Megatron without his battle lust. This was Megatron, thinking he was talking to a mech who couldn't hear him. This was Megatron, feeling. His words meant more than the tears Optimus saw him shed because they were things he'd never say face to face, but felt all the same. Right then, Megatron proved he did care--he just wasn't the type to show it because most Decepticons just didn't operate that way.

But this moment, he was open like a flicker of sunlight between angry cumulonimbus clouds. Optimus knew if he didn't walk through that doorway now, Megatron would close off again. The sex would be meaningless and empty.

He lunged and captured the mouth so near his own, bringing his optics slowly online only after making contact. Megatron's lips were sweet with lacrimation--the dried trails created in love for their dying god--and the smooth space inside was even hotter. He floundered until he finally drowned in the fiery need working itself through his processors.

If this was wrong, the universe could strike him down and he wouldn't care.

"Mmph!" Megatron gave a startled jolt as Optimus' teeth and tongue assaulted his mouth. Optimus drew back a few inches to let him cycle air. Their eyes locked when they breathed each others' breath. The reflection Optimus saw no longer frightened him--the lives they led made them what they were--and the worst sin they ever committed was denying this moment for so long.

"Touch me like you did in the other room." Optimus whispered against Megatron's lips.

"I detect a fetish." That grin again, quick and sharp as a razor blade. His optics shimmered like garnets in the low light when he squinted. "Since when did you enjoy having someone else dominate you?"

"Um...since you handled me the way you did back there."

Megatron's smile tightened, allowing his fangs to peek out. "Iiiiiiinteresting--" the way he dragged out the word against Optimus' audio nearly sent Optimus over the edge, "I like to dominate. If I'd known it was this easy..." He let it hang, but the irony wasn't lost. "I never expected you to like bottoming."

Optimus shrugged one shoulder. "I didn't know until today. I spent so much time ordering other people around. I...was tired of it. No one ever asked about my personal wants and needs...just what I wanted them to do."

That dangerous mouth was closing in on his throat. "And I suppose I've been resenting having orders given to me so much that I enjoy making people do my bidding."

"We're so opposite."

"Indeed."

Then Megatron bit down and Optimus' thoughts derailed in fireworks and tingling and sensations he had no names for. He wanted to moan, but wondered if he'd sound easy if he gave away his excitement too soon. In his private, soundproof quarters, he used to mewl and writhe and cry out as he brought himself to overload. But in someone else's presence? Could he ever expose himself that way?

His question answered itself when Megatron dragged one finger straight down the center of his chest grill, jangling sensors connected directly to his Spark chamber. The first involuntary moan slipped past his lips. One fingertip became two. Two became three. On and on until ten digits played him like a finely tuned instrument. And Megatron just watched him like a hungry predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Optimus quickly learned that Decepticons were not subtle when it came to interfacing. While he laid there, fantasizing and doubting, Megatron was doing everything he probably imagined up until now.

Lips, tongue and fingers teased his grill. He'd given away its weakness and Megatron capitalized. Throughout it all, Optimus tried not to think about those stupid notions of how wrong this should be, but he didn't want to do this solely because it was a necessity. He told himself to stop seeing Megatron as his enemy and act on the swirling emotions he'd been bottling since Primus-knows-when.

"Hmph, this is not the time to be shy. Come on, Orion!" Megatron grinned, licking his own fangs. His optics never warmed, never softened, yet they had a strange passion in them very much like his battle lust.

Optimus sat bolt upright, glaring back--the red optic Megatron had given him glowed harshly in the dim room. "Then give me a minute."

"What?"

"Just...please."

Megatron moved aside, frowning.

Optimus yanked the grill completely off his chest, exposing his Matrix of Leadership. The very object that ended his days as Orion Pax and transformed him into Optimus Prime. Its central jewel had crumbled apart. Without Primus, it was a useless piece of jewelry, nothing more. He removed it and laid it on the floor.

This moment belonged to Orion Pax.

His gaze drifted to his dirty, scratched and empty hands. Most of the vibrant paint had been stripped off his outer plating. Scratches left rough lines on his previously flawless cheeks and chin stud. He had a dent in the tip of his nose. Filth crusted in the seams of his armor, and he'd never get it off without undergoing an all-body overhaul.

But Megatron was in similar shape. The savage scar on his face cut like a valley across his once-pristine features. His intact antenna was bent and chipped. Most of the purple on his arms and legs was scraped off or peeling, exposing silver-gray base metal. Dirt and dust covered everything else so completely it'd be impossible to clean off without a complete sand and repaint.

None of it seemed to bother Megatron. His optics still shone like flaming suns full of pride.

And that, Optimus realized, was what made him so attractive. His pride, his ability to look utterly regal while covered in dirt, dents and scratches.

Turning, he covered Megatron's mouth with his own. He tasted his fangs, the insides of his cheeks and the smooth roof of his mouth. Then he drew back, holding his former rival's gaze while licking his taste off his lips. What a strange feeling...to feel so alive when he'd be dead in less than two hours.

There are worse ways to die, Optimus reminded himself.

Megatron's glossa swiped his lips as if sampling a fine flavor. His frowning mouth curved in a smirk that exposed one gleaming fang. "So much for recharge."

Optimus laughed, no longer self conscious of Megatron staring at him.

"You always laugh with your entire face." Megatron said, sliding closer. Primus, how did he seem to know exactly what to do?

"Part of the reason I had the mask."

"Yes...it makes sense."

They were stalling, and knew it.

Optimus bent forward and tasted the sweet, dried tear residue marking Megatron's cheek plates. Every kiss was a benediction. He wanted to love. He wanted to forgive.

I can forgive you...but can you forgive me?

His answer was the slow glide of lips brushing his mouth in silent atonement--

Forgiven...

--right before hands slammed him back-first into the berth. Once again those fierce, clawed fingers were upon his body, wrenching soft cries off his vocal processing unit.

"Megatr--"

"Quiet." Megatron all but purred, sneering, "Watching you squirm is all the stimulation I need. Now...open your port."

By the Allspark...Optimus' head nearly spun at the speed which Megatron moved through this. He fumbled with the panel until it popped off, exposing his vulnerable wiring.

Megatron bent close to his audio.

"Breathe," he whispered.

Then he plunged his fingers into Optimus' wiring, and the Autobot's world rang in flying sparks and binary code. Optimus wrapped one hand around the treads on Megatron's shoulder. He gasped for the air jolted from his intakes while his body screamed for more of...that.

A chilling smile tugged Megatron's mouth. He pinched two wires and rolled them around between his thumb and forefinger. Every so often, the tip of his pointed thumb caught on a sensory node that tunneled Optimus' vision. He spoke into his ear, "Is this how you touched yourself, Orion? Or do you do it the way I do, like this..." he pulled and Optimus arched completely off the berth. "Ah...I see...well..."

The aching tugs, scrapes and twists continued, leaving Optimus whimpering and pleading for more. His body wasn't his own anymore. He was a puppet and Megatron pulled his strings, and he didn't care because it felt so sinfully good. And this was a much better way to end the war than the alternative.

Optimus tilted his head as Megatron's glossa outlined his intact ear finial. Adoration or lust, he didn't know or worry--he was happy as long as those blissfully amazing fingers kept tugging his wiring. He felt Megatron's exhaled air coming hotter and faster against his ear finial and realized, dully, that his Decepticon companion was trembling with subdued excitement.

Throwing all caution to the wind, he whipped his free hand to the left where it brushed Megatron's inner thigh. It was one of the few places still smooth and purple with paint. The leg moved, granting him full access. He curled his fingers into claws and dragged, gritting his teeth at the painful screeching noise.

Megatron's cooling fans sputtered on. He stayed silent, but his jaw dropped in a soundless cry. Optimus ran his tongue over his own front teeth and shifted his hand to the other thigh, repeating the previous motion. Then he stuck his finger into the seam of Megatron's heated codpiece and the Decepticon warlord threw his head back, snarling.

Optimus drank in the sight of Megatron's composure slipping. The tense lines crossing his face were nothing like his usual dour expression.

He gave Megatron a moment to recover--but Megatron used it to shove his fingers deeper into Optimus' access port. They contacted something sensitive, sending static spitting in all directions. Optimus' world went white, and he wasn't even overloading yet.

"Ohhh!" he spread his legs, his once-white thighs now dull gray, and arched towards that wonderful hand. "M-more..."

"You should see your face," Megatron rumbled. His mouth twitched into an enigmatic smile. He leaned over, optics flashing in what was once his battle lust. Perhaps it still was, but the fight was a different one, one he knew he'd win. With his lips against Optimus' audio input sensor, he said, "I imagine your overload will be a show. Don't disappoint me."

Words failed Optimus, and his only attempt to reply came out in a low moan. His body tingled. He couldn't focus on anything beyond the delicious torture occurring between his legs. He'd nearly crossed the point of no return when the fingers withdrew from his buzzing port.

"M-Megatron..." Optimus grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his hand back to its original position.

Megatron shook his hand off and straddled him. He held up the fingers that, a moment ago, had been buried up to the second knuckle in Optimus' cables. They were coated in the oily grease that protected the joints in his lower half during transformation. Megatron looked straight into Optimus' eyes and licked his fingers clean. Then he bent for a kiss. Optimus tasted his own salty-sour fluids on Megatron's lips and tongue. Once, he thought such an act was disgusting...now he found his body throbbing on the verge of overload.

"Mm..." Megatron purred into his audio, "humans have a word for sex. A very vulgar word by their standards. I think I like it more than the pitiful 'making love' you prefer to call it."

In his heated state, Optimus barely formulated a thought. He couldn't remember the word. "W-what word?"

Into his ear, Megatron growled, "Fuck."

Optimus curled his lip as if the language itself sounded sour.

"We're going to fuck." Megatron went on, running a finger along the outer edges of Optimus' bottom lip. "Say the word."

Optimus growled at him. Did Megatron want to ruin this? Though, when he thought about it, he couldn't argue very much in his submissive position. "You know I don't like to talk that way."

Megatron grabbed him by the throat, yanked him up and hissed in his ear, "Say the word."

His commanding tone did strange things to Optimus' neural network. To be manipulated and ordered around--mostly with his consent--excited him. He often kept his language clean to be a good example. Swearing was always an uncouth, disgusting thing only Decepticons did. Uttering it just once wouldn't kill him, would it?

"Fine!" he snapped. "Fuck." It was strangely liberating to say something considered forbidden. And, he realized, no gods struck him down. "I said it. Happy?"

Laughing, Megatron slammed him back into the berth. "Do you want to be fucked, Orion?"

Optimus almost melted in the heat of that voice whispering in his ear.

"Yes..." he croaked.

"Very well, then."

"Wait."

"What?"

Meeting his former rival's eyes, Optimus asked, "Is there any love involved in this?"

"I wouldn't be about to lose my virginity if I gave myself to the first open port I saw. I have standards...hard as that may be for an Autobot to comprehend." A derisive laugh followed the statement, but it sounded like it covered up a mild sting. "I've always believed in waiting for the right one. The irony of this whole situation is that it happens to be you. Now shut up and enjoy it."

"Only if I don't wake up your slave."

Megatron laughed. "No."

Optimus' mind was appeased. He smiled, absently stroking Megatron's thighs. This wouldn't be meaningless. Their love wasn't perfect--it was born rough, dented, full of holes and ragged around the edges--but enough materials existed to build a relationship.

The two panels protecting Megatron's port slid apart, letting the circuit boards underneath tilt forward into the open air. They appeared upside-down, the sharp beads of solder jutting out between bare copper wire and tiny coolant lines the diameter of human fingers. A custom job, not natural assembly. He looked down again with something different burning in his eyes. They never relaxed or calmed, they were always a tempest, but this storm had an entirely new meaning that dared the universe to try and stop it.

Optimus saw, through static-laced vision, the way Megatron's face twisted as he brought their ports into full contact. He did not do it slowly or gently, and Optimus gritted his teeth at the sharp solder points jabbing his sensitive circuitry.

Megatron bent over, nose to nose, and his fierce bliss morphed into a most diabolical smile. The circuit board he'd plunged into Optimus retracted halfway, pulling Optimus' wiring taut. Then he bit Optimus' bottom lip without ceremony and began releasing his electrical discharges.

Optimus cried out as his unprepared circuits were bombarded by heat and energy. Was it supposed to hurt?

"What?" Megatron mocked, "Too hot to handle?"

"Sh-sh-shut up..."

It was like nothing Optimus ever felt before. He groaned, slipping his arms around Megatron's waist and pressing their bodies closer. His fingers scratched at his cannon turret and the cannon itself until the little paint left started to peel off in curls around his fingertips. The stinging gave way to something warm and amazing, a feeling he couldn't describe.

"Yesssssss..." Megatron purred in his audio, his voice adding to the excitement of the moment. "I thought you'd like that."

Optimus shoved Megatron's head aside and mouthed his throat. His tongue lolled over dusty cables that dribbled sparks across his lips. The years spent covered in soot, rust and the coolant he sweat through his seams were still there like a rainbow of flavors. His life had a bitter aftertaste that Optimus could only blame himself for.

Static crackled around Optimus' legs. He felt Megatron grab his chin and drag him into another brutal lip lock full of fangs and tongue. His response was swelling and turning inwards. Seeming to sense this, Megatron retracted his access port even further, holding Optimus on a bridge somewhere between pleasure and agony. He slapped his hands down on the berth beside Optimus' head, swirls and colors dancing within his unfocused optics. Crackling energy flickered around his fangs. Dominating seemed to give him a bigger rush than battle. His eyes twitched and his teeth gnashed together. There wasn't a single sound beyond their hissing intakes struggling for air.

Reaching up, Optimus cupped his former rival's face like a fragile treasure, "Megatron, are you--"

Megatron shook the hand off, snarling. He existed in a plane beyond words and logic. Optimus suddenly realized Megatron was going into overload right in front of him. He was about to reveal himself at his most vulnerable.

Megatron's chest plates separated, exposing his Spark. It pierced the darkness, no longer a sphere, but a multicolored swirl made of many Sparks scaled down to fit within his chamber. For a moment Optimus watched in fascination as the convection took the shape of galaxies and whirlpools, always moving and never quiet.

Nodding, each movement like sloshing into sludge, Optimus parted his inner plating and he saw the same whirling dervish reflected in Megatron's flickering red optics. Wasn't that all they were in the end? A glittering ball of light caught amongst many?

The first trickles of sensation wound themselves into his midsection. He flexed his legs, anticipating, though not as much as he anticipated seeing Megatron's climax. Optimus pulled him down, bringing their halves of the Allspark together.

It hurt at first, as if every lightning bolt ever created struck his chest. Through the fog of static-stars he saw Megatron's optics flare.

"Orion..." Megatron gasped. Spasms wracked his electrified frame, his fingers digging painfully into Optimus' shoulders. Finally, after a long struggle, he gave in and surrendered to his overload. Wounded sounds flowed off his vocal apparatus, moans and whimpers totally opposite to who he was as a person because they were so gentle--and everything he felt in the moment flickered across his face. A complete physical, mental and emotional release that left him practically naked.

Optimus never knew Megatron could look like that. He yanked him closer so those moans poured directly into his audio sensor. Tingling sensations were billowing throughout his sensory network. In a few seconds, their Sparks would unite and feel as a single entity for the rest of their lives.

He wanted it, he wanted to unite Cybertron and he wanted Megatron.

"So close," Optimus sucked air through his intakes. His systems were so charged that static hummed in his audios.

"Orion!" Megatron's cries came louder as his overload reached its peak. The energy building in his system discharged into Optimus, and the past they once knew shattered in waves of moans, cries, memories, the desire to love and overwhelming pleasure.

Optimus let it all go. Everything. All of it. The past, the present, the future, he forgot about it and felt the power of creation crash through his systems. He heard his own voice rising in pitch and volume, and behind the brightening glow around them he vaguely saw Megatron smirking down at him in smarmy satisfaction.

No thinking. Feeling only.

For half a second he lived the lives of every Autobot to walk on Cybertron. People he knew, people he'd never seen before and people who died long before his Spark found a body.

Optimus clawed at Megatron's sides. He felt the acidic death of a solid yellow mech whose arms ended in drills. He felt the brightening light around him. He felt the desperation, the hunger and the hopelessness of a lifetime without ever seeing the stars. He felt Megatron simultaneously hating and loving him. He felt himself coming apart at the seams with grief and hope, starry night skies and Megatron's voice whispering his name. It all collapsed into a pinpoint and burst like a new universe.

He regained his senses to Megatron still watching him curiously. Their eyes remained locked for ages, seeking the mental closeness their bodies experienced a minute ago.

"That," Megatron clicked his tongue, "was the most erotic thing I have ever witnessed."

Tingling and dizzy, Optimus tried to remember how to talk. "Sooo...you aren't disappointed?"

"Tch. You're a fool." Megatron flopped over onto his back. Still attached, Optimus fell with him and landed across his chest.

And Megatron held him.

Gently.

"What do you know? Old mechs can learn new tricks."

Optimus snorted at that, but didn't have the strength to pick up his head. One little energon cube hadn't done much for his fuel tanks. They'd both burned all their power. Neither would awaken once they entered recharge. Sleep was death.

Had they succeeded? Would there be an Allspark to return to?

"Hey, Megatron..."

"Hm?"

Optimus lifted his head enough to see Megatron's eyes. "I--"

"No." Megatron kissed him hard, cutting him off. "If there's another side, tell me there."

"And if there isn't?"

Megatron's optics narrowed. His voice sounded exhausted. "I already know what you want to say. It's mutual. Now shut up and die already, I haven't got all day."

That made Optimus snicker. How strange to meet the end of his life in Megatron's arms, laughing.

"You shouldn't have given me that cube. I'd be gone right now."

His strength failed him then. He laid his head on Megatron's shoulder, still looking up into his eyes.

"Yes. How foolish of me." Megatron smiled sardonically. "You still burned more energy than I did."

"Mm. Guess that means you win the wager."

"Tch. If we bonded right, we both win."

"I'd like that."

The room seemed a lot dimmer than before. Optimus fought a losing battle to stay awake. He didn't want Megatron to die alone!

"Megatron."

"Hmmm?"

"I..."

"Don't--"

"--love you."

"You idiot! Couldn't you wait?"

Optimus smiled and shook his head. His world flipped as Megatron rolled over again, using his weight to hold Optimus down. He became slowly aware of a strange tone humming over the silence. Judging by the baffled look on Megatron's face, Optimus wasn't the only one who heard it.

"What's that sound?"

"I don't--"

Dust rose from the grating in the floor like the ashes of a phoenix and coalesced into a smiling blue figure.

Ero Cybertron iterum oriundus. Primus spoke without moving his lips. He spread his arms and golden light poured off his body. "Cybertron will be born again!"

Megatron's eyes glistened when he flashed a smile that glowed almost as brightly as Primus. "We did it."

Hope filled Optimus' tired Spark. He clasped Megatron's hand, grinning back when the light enveloped the room. Reality became pale and fragmented, held together only by the brilliance of rebirth surrounding him...but he was too exhausted to stay awake and watch. He had no energy left. Sleep called his mind, and he didn't fight it because he knew he'd served his purpose.

As he relaxed into recharge, he heard Megatron's voice whisper in his audio, "See you soon, Orion. My Orion..."

The last thing Optimus knew was Primus' arms embracing them both.