A/N: Okay, so this was supposed to be an addition to my drabbles, but it turned into a complete one-shot. So...
Don't leave me any reviews about Starscream's optic color. This was before the war. I believe that Cybertronians picked a side, and when they did, their optic's color got changed to the faction's color. That is how I see dear Screamer's optics before the war. :3
A distress ping rang through his comm-link.
Starscream.
He'd known the scientist for a while now. He learned how paranoid the little flyer was, especially when it came to the violence of the splitting factions. Battles were happening all throughout the major cities on Cybertron, some right in the middle of the streets as either side battled for control of each area.
The fighting was becoming more frequent, which in turn was adding to the new leader's workload—taking away from his time with the young mech who was asking for his company now.
There must be a battle going on incredibly close by for him to be sending a distress call to Megatron's private link.
The new lord excused himself from his current meeting with a pair of his subordinates and made his way to the room he shared with the younger bot, along the way, thinking of how he could convince the anxious bot to get over his fears… Megatron would need him soon enough. The wings were what made him so valuable; the ability to surprise the enemy was the best element in a war.
He just had to make the young scientist forget about his hate for violence.
The question was how.
Megatron slowly pushed the door to his quarters open and was met with the sight of a dark-lit space, the flyer in question stationed at the window overlooking the city. He didn't even acknowledge the other mech's presence as the door was clanked shut behind him. The Decepticon leader could hear the brawl going on directly below the room—gunshots, yelling in crude Cybertronian, crashes, bangs and overall mayhem.
The light from outside illuminated the front half of Starscream's frame and as Megatron approached, he could see the dismay etched into the flyer's faceplates. The Decepticon leader came up slowly and placed a metal hand onto Starscream's back, just in between his wings, trying to gently coax him to relax, "Don't fret… I'm here," he drawled as he leaned in close. He dragged his metal hand up and down slowly in a soothing notion before he continued speaking, "Step away from the window."
The smaller mech very slowly turned his attentions to the older mech, violet optics meeting crimson, "I…I don't know if I can do this. I can't fight, I can't choose a side, I—"
Megatron cut him off in a deep, soothing voice, "Of course you can, Starscream. With me by your side, protecting you, there's nothing you couldn't do," he punctuated his persuasion with a small smile.
Lies, they were all lies. Starscream was going to be his. It was all a ploy to get him to give in.
Those pretty purple optics would soon glow red for him.
The would-be warlord continued when the other's faceplates didn't seem to relax, "I won't let anything happen to you."
Sweet little lies.
Starscream slowly turned back to face the window, but before he could look out again, Megatron caught is chin and turned his helm back, making their eyes meet once more. He shook his own helm in disagreement.
Starscream let his optics half-shutter and a very small smile took refuge on his lips as he tenderly leaned into the cool appendage.
The lies were working.
"Go back into recharge, Starscream," Megatron said as he let his hand fall from the other's face, trying not to grin at the upper hand he was so clearly reaching in the situation. He made a turn to leave the dark room and continue his previous operations, but the other's high-pitched voice stopped him.
"Stay with me until then?"
It was a simple question, but one that the lord had been hoping that Starscream wouldn't ask. He heaved a sigh through his cooling vents and nodded once; anything to get the anxious scientist to calm and take his side.
He watched as the flyer climbed into the large berth they shared (it had been expanded when Megatron first began to recruit him, to allow for his wide wingspan as well the large white mech) and laid down on his back, gazing tiredly at his master's optics. A fire was burning there that wasn't before, and Megatron braced himself for the question that he knew was coming next.
"Will you lay with me…?" it was tentative and full of lust Megatron hadn't been aware that he'd
missed in the lunar cycles it had been since the last time they interfaced.
He hesitated. He didn't want to end up drifting into recharge as well, since he still had duties to attend to before he could call it a night, and he also didn't want Starscream to seduce him, like he was wont to do when he was frightened.
"…please." Starscream insisted. His dimming violet optics met his leader's crimson ones and he cycled a deep intake.
The sounds of the battle still raged below.
The look on the scientist's faceplates was enough to break his reluctance. He could see the fear and anxiety swimming in his optics… something that he would have to be rid of sooner rather than later.
Megatron heaved a sigh as he caved, making his way to the vast berth. He rested himself on his back beside his not-quite soldier, not giving into the young mech's obvious plea, but not pushing him away either. Almost immediately, Starscream rolled half on top of the white mech, snuggling into him. His face fit rather nicely into the crook of his tentative leader's neck and he let out a content mumble against a few cables that his lips just barely rested on.
The new leader stilled and resisted his sudden urge to scold Starscream, holding in the small shiver that threatened to wrack his frame at the contact. The flyer, however, apparently took it as encouragement, because he very slowly poked his glossa out and tasted the cables, dragging the appendage slowly upwards.
Megatron vocalized no sound, but his vents sputtered slightly just before they cycled a long exhale and he prepared himself for the ride.
Whatever it takes to make Starscream mine.