primalmonarchy

[primalmonarchy]

"Mmhm," Optimus hummed back, just as good-natured as Megatron accused Bumblebee of being.

Megatron wasn't.. wrong, he supposed, but that wasn't necessarily the point of this. They could sit down and discuss that later, if that was something that Megatron truly found to be an issue- Optimus could be.. stubborn, he would admit, but. He didn't want to get in the way of Bee's own accomplishments and future.

As it was, he wasn't going to listen right this moment because Megatron was being tired and grouchy. Which meant he was not, in fact, resting enough.

Fists drumming against his plating, Optimus can't help his little laugh about it, optics squinting in amusement. "Now now, Megatron, language- Dot wouldn't be happy if the Terrans started repeating some of that, I don't think." Funny- Dot wasn't often a threat he could use against Megatron, but they both knew she wouldn't hesitate to tear him a 'new one' if she found out he'd taught her babies a few new, choice words. "Aren't you supposed to be a poet? You can't be a little more creative than that?" A warm servo settled on his aft plate, patting at him absently as he made his way to their own rooms. His or Megatrons, he wondered, only briefly, before deciding that yes, they should take Optimus'. Megatron slept with so few pillows and liked to complain about his over abundance of them, but even Megatron fell into recharge amongst them.

"Do you want the thinner sheets, Megatron? Summer has it very warm out."

A low, droning noise, the hum of the matrix, behind Megatron. Optimus settled his servo on Megatron's lower back- 'stay where you are'. "I'm of the opinion," Optimus started, tone dipping down into something slightly irritated, "that in order to talk to Bumblebee, one need not frighten him, Megatron. ..wouldn't you agree?"

Optimus has long stopped registering as a threat on Megatron’s internal radar. It had been, to Megatron’s skewed memory, laughably easy for Optimus to convince his subsystems to let him back in; his handshake codes for wired linkup were still the same as Pax’s, and Megatron had simply never reconfigured himself to let go of Orion. It was unthinkable to him to wipe Orion’s access permissions, and as far as he’d known Optimus had an entire new suite of installations and security protocols…

Well, it had saved them some moments of uncomfortable finagling, in the end, so he couldn’t complain too much.

Megatron still twitches forward at Optimus’ servo coming to rest at the base of his spinal strut.

“I’d hadn’t of known it was him,” the rotary groused back, one hand loosely curled on the railing in front of him. “Bumblebee’s quieter than you’d expect an’ I wasn’t paying much attention. He’s fine, Prime. Your favoritism does him no favors, though.”

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"WAIT-"

"Is Megatron grouchy? Certainly."

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"I can fix him."

"Is Megatron grouchy? Certainly."

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"Is Megatron grouchy? Certainly."

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Optimus pressed closer, crowding against Megatron. The hum of the Matrix grew ever louder- like a swarm of angered bees.

"My favoritism," Optimus' tone went lower, so close to being sub-vocal without quite dipping into plating rattling territory. Lips brushed the side of Megatron's helmet. "It's not necessarily that you didn't know he was there, was it? Megatron... you're doing that thing, again, aren't you? The one where you don't rest, get a bit grumpy, and then snap at the closest mech?" They both knew that if Bumblebee had really startled him -unlikely- that Megatron simply would've jumped a little, and then fussed at Bee. Not outright snarled at him. Optimus' other servo squeezed at Megatron's hip. It was all the warning he was giving the mech before he was bending, twisting his top half to pick Megatron up.

And promptly put him on his shoulder.

"It sounds like, then, you are in need of a nap. I am going to make you take one. This is not an argument you will win."

A low, droning noise, the hum of the matrix, behind Megatron. Optimus settled his servo on Megatron's lower back- 'stay where you are'. "I'm of the opinion," Optimus started, tone dipping down into something slightly irritated, "that in order to talk to Bumblebee, one need not frighten him, Megatron. ..wouldn't you agree?"

Optimus has long stopped registering as a threat on Megatron’s internal radar. It had been, to Megatron’s skewed memory, laughably easy for Optimus to convince his subsystems to let him back in; his handshake codes for wired linkup were still the same as Pax’s, and Megatron had simply never reconfigured himself to let go of Orion. It was unthinkable to him to wipe Orion’s access permissions, and as far as he’d known Optimus had an entire new suite of installations and security protocols…

Well, it had saved them some moments of uncomfortable finagling, in the end, so he couldn’t complain too much.

Megatron still twitches forward at Optimus’ servo coming to rest at the base of his spinal strut.

“I’d hadn’t of known it was him,” the rotary groused back, one hand loosely curled on the railing in front of him. “Bumblebee’s quieter than you’d expect an’ I wasn’t paying much attention. He’s fine, Prime. Your favoritism does him no favors, though.”

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Ah- something about the idea of Megatron simply.. spiriting him away just because he can has the Prime's head fins tipping back, optics going round. "And would you? Off with me, then? Just carry me away like that? Megatron?" A fantasy for another time, perhaps, when they've more than the stolen nights between them.

Megatron is so warm.. right there, next to him, the scent of something heady and metallic, gunpowder and polish and something else entirely Megatron's smell alone, something Optimus could recognize without hesitation. Optimus leaned a little more against him with a contented noise, tucking his nose to Megatron's shoulder.

"I would never deny you anything," he murmured against the smooth metal of Megatron's shoulder, smile hidden against him. "But yes, I would like that a great deal, if you mean to invite me in."

"Optimus."

Megatron roughly clears his vocoder, awkwardly standing in the middle of the hallway. Exactly halfway between their rooms, the doors facing each other on either side of the hall.

Optimus' room lies before him, with the blue frame around the automatic door and a handmade nameplate tacked up on the wall. It looked like the kids made it for him, on some occasion. Megatron's room was to his back, the door undifferentiated from all the others but for the additional locks he had installed himself and yet never yet used.

"I... Hrm. Well."

Optimus was just setting aside a gift from the Terrans, a little picture frame that he laid carefully on his desk, when Megatron called for him.

The door was open- as it often was when he wasn't recharging, yet.

Optics flickering absently in a lazy blink, Optimus adjusted the picture frame and then made his way to the edge of the room to lean against the doorframe. "You know," his tone went playful, "usually you just walk in. I'm surprised you didn't knock. ..is something the matter?" Hopefully something wasn't the matter. Megatron deserved a break, after everything that had went on.

And usually Megatron had no problem coming in and butting up against him like an Earth cat, demanding his attentions. ..and receiving it, of course. As if Optimus could ever deny him anything.

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"Coming from you, that means almost nothing." Soundwave hissed, his visor flashing a deep, bleeding red. He may be here, forced to be civil with their former enemy, but that didn’t mean he had to be nice.

If there is any sort of fight in Optimus, any bite, it doesn't appear.

He blinked placidly at Soundwave, head fins pressed back, body language relaxed. If Soundwave wanted a fight, it would be one sided.

"Yes- I suppose it does. It doesn't make me any less sorry for it."

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"Optimus."

Megatron roughly clears his vocoder, awkwardly standing in the middle of the hallway. Exactly halfway between their rooms, the doors facing each other on either side of the hall.

Optimus' room lies before him, with the blue frame around the automatic door and a handmade nameplate tacked up on the wall. It looked like the kids made it for him, on some occasion. Megatron's room was to his back, the door undifferentiated from all the others but for the additional locks he had installed himself and yet never yet used.

"I... Hrm. Well."

Optimus was just setting aside a gift from the Terrans, a little picture frame that he laid carefully on his desk, when Megatron called for him.

The door was open- as it often was when he wasn't recharging, yet.

Optics flickering absently in a lazy blink, Optimus adjusted the picture frame and then made his way to the edge of the room to lean against the doorframe. "You know," his tone went playful, "usually you just walk in. I'm surprised you didn't knock. ..is something the matter?" Hopefully something wasn't the matter. Megatron deserved a break, after everything that had went on.

And usually Megatron had no problem coming in and butting up against him like an Earth cat, demanding his attentions. ..and receiving it, of course. As if Optimus could ever deny him anything.

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There’s a soft hum of concern from the doorway. A thin mech is peeking in at Optimus, a tea tray in his servos. “What’s the matter, dear?”

The Matrix had been nothing short of relentless, these past few days. He'd popped up from recharge with.. it wasn't pain, per say, so much as a sort of gnawing. 'Go here'. He wasn't typically compelled to do these things, so he'd known right away it was the Matrix's influence, but he'd...

Ignored it, initially.

The longer he had, however, it had grown next to unbearable, tugging at him like a rope, drawing him.. somewhere.

Or rather, drawing him here, brow furrowed, as he cast a concerned optic over the.. the very small mech in front of him. Non-combatant? ..orange. "Ah. I. I'm not entirely certain, myself."

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“I’ve learned a new word today, Prime. One I think suits you quite well, if y’ask me…”

A long, languid blink- Optimus turned his full attention to Megatron, setting aside.. a bale of hay?

"And what would that be? Perhaps something describing how handsome I am?"

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"Mmm." Optimus hummed noncommittally, optics fixed on the new drink he was making. It was a deep purple that started at the bottom, fading upwards into a thick, white cream.

He added a little bit of that 'glitter', just for fun, gave it a stir, and- there. A little umbrella made it look nice.

"What is your fuel level, Megatron? Your coolant?"

“I am not having a temper tantrum! This is a perfectly. Reasonable. Reaction!”

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Today was a good day to sun himself.

Optimus found a nice, warmed rock and settled on his back with a low groan, arching so that the sun caught his grilles, arms raised over his helm in a stretch, pedes pressed into the ground.

Nice.

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:: Out uptop. Come see the stars with me? I have dross and cheap engex. ::

::Well! I'm sold! I'll see you in a klik.:: There was a lighter playfulness to the message, and indeed, the Prime only took a little over a klik to poke his helm up, pulling himself the rest of the way so he could nudge up against Megatron and make a pleased grumble of his engines.

"Hello, Megatron."

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"Gotta say, I didn't think you had it in you to drop the GHOST glitches. They sucked," Rodimus exclaims, dropping into the chair on the other side of Optimus' desk and immediately kicking his pedes up. "'Course, this place still looks awful, but, like, you can maybe slap some paint up. Dunno what you're gonna repurpose the literal holding cells into though. Unless you and Megs are at that stage in your torrid little on-and-off-again affair?"

"It wouldn't be difficult to.. to just knock the cells down, you know." He'd thought about it. At first it had seemed wrong- like he'd be erasing what G.H.O.S.T. had done- what he'd let happen.

But.. "If we knock down the walls, it could be.. turned into something better. A community center. I don't think I should be.. over that sort of thing, but I know someone who would be perfect for it." Here, Optimus peered over at Rodimus with a sort of thoughtful glance, head fins going cocked. "You're good with people. And I thought it would good to have a place to relax, play games.. you would be excellent at leading something like that. Would you consider it?"

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🥚.

Egg? Optimus' face scrunched a little, and he tipped his helm, brow furrowing and audials tipping forward.

"Ah.. thank? You?"

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I should be allowed into every museum’s archives actually

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