Archive of Our Own ^beta

I am fine, he would state, that control slowly slipping as the words talked in his mind. It was becoming harder with each passing cycle.

Optimus was tired, he was always tired nowadays, only those rare moments of exhilaration seemed to bring him back to his old self, before Primehood and before the war. Leading a team was difficult, but they were smart and capable. Optimus understood that they probably didn't need him anymore for his specific leadership, but the Earth-shattering reality of his position had started to become even more apparent as time marched on.

Even with their smiles, their good words of encouragement, and their all in battle, the Prime still found his frustration to be a constant with his emotions. With his duty, his ideals, his enemies.

He wasn't known for being expressive, that was a given. His words carried feeling more than anything, as little as they were. But bottling up seemed to be the all for Optimus's true intentions, even more so since he hadn't had a proper way to expel those hardships in a way that wouldn't bring harm.

At first, fighting came to mind in terms of a way to calm his circuits. A good bout with Megatron or one of his equally strong subordinates. It fed his craving for action in its duration, but once the battle was over, Optimus felt more angered than before. It just meant he would have to fight them again, and again. How it would never be enough.

A sparring match between his team is what he had hoped could achieve a peace of mind, but nay. His teammates were too small and fragile, the only one that could possibly face him off was Bulkhead, who declined his first invitation. Optimus was a bit glad he did. 

He did not want to discredit his friend's potential, never. But none of them could go against him in a true battle unscathed, not in the brute strength he was so used to facing with the Decepticon warlord. A constant usher of how important he was to this never ending war.

So many little things coalesced into his mood at once, fuming out his frustrations took longer than it did to collect them.

Optimus didn't want to break that shield, he didn't want his team to think it was okay to use anger as an incentive to continue in pursuit. It wasn't, but he had not found a way. The long drives only did so much to edge away at the chip in his shoulder, and the good talks with Ratchet and the others brought good memories, as well as an unfurling rage at everything they lost.

And the human children played a part within his scrambled processor. It was amazing to see such bright brilliance in such a young species, within the ones that partake in their disguised lives. After that however, the amount of casualties and possibilities involving them weigh an unbearable stress down onto his core.

It couldn't be helped that his frustrations had to do with his allies every once in a while. He couldn't be there for every mission, he couldn't help them at every moment in time. He still wanted to regain his confidence in their ever growing fight against the Decepticons.

He was their leader, not their conquerer. Degrading them for every little mistake they made would be a violation of everything he stood for. Yet, Optimus couldn't help it within his own mind.

They were imperfect, that is what made them whole, it is also what makes them reckless.

They couldn't be as strong as him, that is what upset Optimus. The ones who were strong as him lay on the opposite side of the field, against him.

Being a Prime, being perfect for an imperfect team, standing against enemies for what feels like the hundredth time in a week. If he wasn't so hardened, he would have already shattered into a million little shards of unfiltered fury.

He was better than that. He had to show that letting anger get the better of one's self was not the path you should take, that it will only lead to more suffering. He just didn't understand why he was so angry, not truly.

The inevitable arrived, as his limit could not stretch forever, for a single battle wrought against Megatron finally chalked up an agelong malicious desire within the Prime.

-

It was cold, as Siberia usually was, even in the warmer season along this specific mountain range where there were only a few speckles of snow dashing nearby trees. There was hardly any forest in this particular area, mostly icy cold dirt ground and rolling hills capped with some white.

An Energon mine was found along a large clearing in an abandoned mining camp. Some of the old equipment was still lying and collecting frost, hammer and sickle printed on the doors of the excavators. Of course, the Decepticons got there before he could.

A few Vehicons scouting was a normal, albeit frustrating sign of activity. The Autobots were so low on Energon, the mine became a necessity the moment it was spotted on the map. Even if just the meager scraps of the mine were left it would be enough, guards wouldn't be posted if there wasn't just.

Optimus had made sure to his team that he would go on it alone, one mech burning excess energy was better than all their force combined. Perhaps an overwhelming feeling of self-sacrifice, or it's unpleasant opposite. Some of them did attempt to convince him to stay and then act as a replacement, it was heartwarming but not nearly enough to get through his pride.

He was not a mech of agility or stealth, sneaking past those guards would not be an option. Ducking behind a very large piece of excavating equipment, he watched carefully as the two Vehicons posted at the entrance of the cave conversed with one another. His heels dug deep into the gravelly ground, eyes squinting in focus.

It was so quiet in the open, closing his vents to conserve heat as the cold dry wind wisped gently, the sound of an old Soviet flag flapping in the distance. The chatter of the Decepticons ached him, it would be easier to do what he had to do if they were more artificial, less patented.

Sighing deeply, the dirt kicked beneath him as he transformed on a whim, startling the nearby fauna and the guards to watch him as he drew faster. They brought out their guns, only being able to fire a few missed shots before one of them got rammed into by his grill. A crunch echoed through the cave, the Vehicon skidding out of the way while the other continued firing at their attacker.

Transforming back hastily, Optimus landed on to the grounded Vehicon and straddled him just as quick. Its arms were folded against its body in struggle, he took the opportunity to land a clean punch on its mask, head falling to the side in unconsciousness. The fire raining down on him hardly penetrated his metal shell, slouching down in frustration as the guard never paused its shots.

Huffing through the mask, he stood up from the downed Vehicon and charged to the next. It ceased its firing after he'd gotten too close for comfort, stomping against the cave floor and barreled at the startled Decepticon before it could properly react. Tackling it, he delivered the same punch to the helm with the same results, white face cracking with the strong blow.

Quiet again, he closed his optics solemnly, the only sound being the quick thrumming of his spark after the brief battle. Looking down to the Vehicon underneath him, a silent thankfulness graced his field at seeing it was still alive, merely rendered mute, perhaps the thought was to ease his guilt. He did not see them alert on their coms, though it was a possibility, he would have to check the mine quickly.

He dragged both the Decepticon bodies across the dry dirty ground and placed them on the outside of the cave. Carefully as possible, he prodded open the piece of metal that covered the back of the Vehicons' neck, sifting through the many wires that accompany the spine. Taking his blade out, he just as carefully cut the wire that enabled motor function, repeating the process for the other Vehicon as well. It was an easy fix, and while the sensation of unmoving was disturbing, it was better than the alternative

Human activity hadn't been here in many many years, so he could leave the Vehicons to be picked up by the next patrol without worry. Which undeniably would occur within a day or two once they didn't answer their communications. That was plenty of time to search and, hopefully bring something home for his fellow Autobots.

His footsteps reverberated through the stretch of cavern, slow to observe in hopes of not garnering the attention of any workers if they were posted. The coast was clear, for now, transforming in sync with that thought and rolling steadily into the mine. Too quiet.

Stopping after quite a distance, he grinned under his truck's guise at seeing the sparkle of Energon coating the cave walls. It wasn't a surplus amount, but it was enough to help his team for a good long while. He even noticed some crates of Energon stacked off in the corner, probably a prepared load waiting for transport, that would make it an easier journey.

His spark felt warm and happy, turning away from the blue gold and driving back out of the cavern. With a groundbridge to base, he could get his trailer and bring home sustenance at once to his friends. No more near starvation, it gave him hope for their cause. He almost didn't wonder why there were no miners.

Dirt tracks were made in the ground, weakened by the repeated goings of the Decepticon miners is what he assumed. It was hard to describe the way he was feeling, almost a sense of longing despite the success he just achieved, it was very strange but passable as content. Though, he couldn't shake away the immense feeling that something was very wrong.

The light from the end of the tunnel shown bright, Optimus would have frowned if he were in bipedal. He slowed his pace, tires rolling until making a gentle stop. The imagery would have been frightening, trying to place himself in some other mech's pedes. His body was the same hue as the gravel he stood upon, yet they contrasted each other with deadly vigor, reflecting his might.

The Prime sat near the caves' end, headlights dimmed to a halt as he stared forward, the warlord's figure unmoving and red eyes menacing. His sword nearly touched the Earth, brows pinched down and pupils unwavering from the Semi. The air tensed, an unspoken duel calling, those optics shaving holes into his mind.

Optimus made the first move, truck melding back to the large robot form, sword extending with a deafening shink! Again, it was quiet, still as statues as the two looked on in fixation. Minutes passed, with gazes unwavering and limbs locked into a foreign stillness.

Eventually, Megatron smiled, tilting his head back in almost amusement. Optimus didn't budge.

"I know what you are thinking, Prime."

Optics squinting down, he watched as Megatron began circling, tempting him to join in. He obliged, moving to remain parallel to the trigger-happy warmonger, their distance never closing in on each other. That smile darkened over the Decepticon's scarred face, leading him to wonder further, as well as propel his agitation.

"My presence is confirming your suspicions, of which you are right to assume." He had to step over the bridge of a broken crane to continue their mirrored prowl. Energon beginning to heat in agitation, he was starting to bore of Megatron's explanations, already understanding their purpose. The Decepticon wanted a battle.

"Tell me prime, how desperate are you and your lackies to need this mine? I have an army to feed, you understand, surely." Optimus frowned deeply under the mask, more of Megatron's manipulations. The Decepticon was aware of that immunity within the Prime, no amount of sweet talk would ever convince him of the ideals his side had to offer. He grimaced at how his nemesis enjoyed it for that reason, taking it up as a challenge.

"And surely you can afford the loss of an Energon mine as my team struggles to collect the scraps of your hundreds of others." Megatron sneered through his grin, the mixed emotion of talking with Prime and being annoyed at his stance. "Oh, I am very aware. And I know you are angry at how I am taking advantage of that fact."

He was angry, but kept a cool deminear anyhow, it wouldn't be the first time Megatron used his sportsmanship for his gain. The warlord's teeth bared, not in self defense, but with a terrifying smile.

"I will admit, I have wanted to do this for a long time. To go against you in battle, to see your all without any restraint. And to let your team know their leader will not be coming back with dinner."

Optimus finally accepted Megatron's silent request, and broke their circle and charged with full force at his greatest enemy. Their blades clashed, sparks flying as the struggle to maintain levity was on. A closer look now, optics that were already locked became increasingly squinted, watching as Megatron's brows raised in glee.

Pulling back, the sword slicked by and Optimus attempted another hit with it. The Decepticon retaliated in unison, countering  with a gladiator's precision. It went on like that for kliks, beating against metal and dodging well timed strikes.

Eventually, the Autobot retreated back further, recalibrating after seeing their swordplay was in vain. Megatron too took the opportunity to level up his cannon, purple glow building up power as he walked forward arrogantly, using his sword as aim. Optimus huffed, opening up his vents with a puff of steam and put away his own blade in favour of his gun.

A bang shot through the sound barrier, jumping out in time as a plasma shot left a charred crater in the gravelly ground. Wheels spinning aimlessly on his legs, he sidestepped and began to fire upon the grey mech's wake. As another cannon shot powered up, Optimus only managed to get one of his Energon bullets to hit Megatron on his leg, barely deterring him at all.

He decided to spin Megatron's arrogance around and charge at him once again, surprising the warlord enough that the energy beam barely missed him, giving a good punch to his stomach. Megatron grunted, flinching slightly but returning the favour with a hit to the face, the sound of screeching metal echoing for miles as he recoiled.

Megatron put his sword away in its socket under the cannon, indulging Optimus in extending the fight with fists. They exchanged hits and blows, occasionally dodging but not with grace or agility, seeming to take more punches than missing them. Crack! Snap! Over and over as metal exhausted itself under the weight of their servos.

It was inevitable as the Decepticon gave a full force hit to the side of his chest, an Energon line rerouting itself spontaneously at the strain and Optimus fell to the floor as he wheezed. Ignorant to their fight, he stared to the dirt as he opened his mask, coughing up the Energon that filled his intake, hands shivering at how raw they were. 

He knew Megatron was watching, not even continuing just to witness Optimus on the ground, half-defeated and ill. Wiping his mouth aggressively, he went to prop himself up and give Megatron a piece of his own medicine. Only then did he strike back, kicking the Prime in the stomach with his sharp two-toed pede, launching him across the clearing in a loud tumble.

Nausea mixed with a sickening feeling of defeat wrapped around his mind. Laying next to a sheet of snow, the cold bit at his armour with spider-web like shards, listening to Megatron coming closer, some windshield glass sprayed the ground elegantly.

"Oh, Optimus, I must confess, it brings a bit of sadness to my spark to know you will die today."

The crunching of his sharp feet across the gravel got louder and louder, Optimus pushed himself up off his face. Kneeling, he felt the barrel of Megatron's cannon touch his forehead.

A wash of nothingness went through him, he didn't know how to feel about this. He was about to die, yet it didn't feel like it was about to happen. Only when he stared up to Megatron's helm, would he realize what it was.

Optimus looked up to those red eyes, and the most wretched, vile feeling began to numb away at his circuits. Like a realization millions of years in the making, almost a relieving sensation at this static humiliation.

This was the source of his anger, his frustration, his distraught. This mech was the reason behind every bad thing to occur to Optimus since they arrived on Earth. Not since Earth, before it too, when warfare took Cybertron away from its own people.

He sat there as his insides turned to fire, every small problem and grievance coming together to form a monster inside his processor. He had been angry and upset at many things, his teammates, the humans, the Decepticons even. But they were all byproducts of him.

The dirt broke under his fingertips as he gripped the ground hard with shaky servos, field beginning to cloud over with resentment as he observed the inside of the cannon, mind numbing and chanting Megatron, Megatron, Megatron, Megatron-

"What a terrible thought it must be, to know that you lost , Prime."

Megatron stood in front of the smoldering semi, arrogance rolling in the mech's field, the kind of arrogance that only someone like him could have. He scowled, just barely as his thoughts brewed in steeping sloshes. Megatron. The cannon whined as it started gaining its signature colour.

"Pathetic Prime. Pathetic parasite ."

No, his insults wouldn't reach him, Optimus was better than that. The coward who only shows when he is winning, he can't be better than- Megatron Megatron- how could he do this to him. Why was he being so cruel? Why was Megatronus doing this to him?

"Now, any last words, will you? I want to tell your precious teammates your poetic speech before I enslave them for the rest of their petty lives."

Why had Megatronus been doing this to him?

Why was Megatronus trying to kill him?

Any shred of humanity Optimus held dear too snapped like a cable, the flames coating his insides ignited into a hell-like blaze, all his exhaustion forgotten as it was replaced with a new feeling, something he had been keeping hidden since the beginning.

Why was Megatronus making him feel these things?

-

He lunged at Megatron with a rabid shout, the silver mech gasping at the sudden movement as they toppled over into the dirty earthen floor, the plasma shooting far into the distance as it missed its target.

There was no time for thought in the moment, as Optimus parked blow after blow with fists that shook with an unfathomable hatred. Megatron only got a few glimpses up at his attacker, optics widening as he saw the Prime's eyes scream with death.

The sound of hard metal punches laying down against Megatron's helm and frame echoed as loud as Optimus's shouts of unadulterated rage. The Warlord huff madly up at the Prime, impressed by such raw emotion, as well as, no.

The rampage didn't end just yet, Optimus grasped harshly on to Megatron's waist and shoulder, and threw him mercilessly back to the ground, making a strip of torn up earth where the Decepticon skid, the grating noise of his frame scratching on the floor could be heard for miles.

Megatron groaned, attempting to get up out of the gravelly crater, eyeing Optimus as the Autobot crept forth with great menace, sword drawn in a slick and satisfying movement, and mask drawing forth to hide the usually calm faceplates of the Prime. Megatron growled deeply in frustration.

Optimus swung his blade down at a kneeling Megatron, who rolled to dodge the attack. His onslaught was animalistic, near unpredictable as the sword stabbed the ground in every miss. The silver mech continued to parry and dodge as more attempts were made, but soon he would be overrun.

The blade snagged on to a shoulder spike resting on the pauldron, making Megatron hiss verbally as it was sliced off uncleanly. More was to come, as the angered Prime repeated his swinging the blade with terrifying coordination that of a predator.

Megatron's energy was soon depleted, low enough where the blade sunk deep into the crest of his shoulder, making him yell in agony. Optimus used the vulnerability of pain to push Megatron back to the ground with a thud, blade sinking further as wires and metal parts crackled.

In the tussle their combined forms made, Megatron grabbed the blade with both servos to try and dislodge it from it's new bloody sheath, all the while optics meeting the ones who watched the scene. Blue versus red, yet somehow the pristine froth of Optimus' eyes began overpowering, a dreaded feeling rousing through Megatron's field, it felt- no.

But the Warlord didn't understand, and shouted with hate up at his rival, accepting the circumstances. Optimus refused to let up, pushing the sword downward with a power unlike he had experienced before. It made Megatron chuckle darkly.

"I never knew you to play dirty, Optimus." Megatron spat back to the Prime continuing to force the blade down, as if he was trying to make it visible from the other side of his bloodied shoulder. Optimus let out a savage growl, something no one would have anticipated from an Autobot.

Megatron half expected Optimus to reel with a corny one liner at his obvious statement, to sense some life out of the bot, anything at all. But all he saw was hot rage. It startled him more than anything, forcing out another insult in hopes of bringing something out of his adversary.

"Oh- if your team could see you now-"

"Shut up."

He went silent. 

He wasn't sure exactly why, but the sound of the sword penetrating out of the other end of his back regained his dignity.

Sneering greatly, he growled out nothings as he pointed his cannon up at Optimus' too-close-for-comfort face. Booting up with a slick hiss, the Prime noticed and dragged the blade out of his metal shell to stand up. Megatron didn't have enough time to react before a pede stomped on top of his chassis violently, another following as his arm cracked under the weight.

Despite the restraint he aimed up to Optimus, the boot up of the gun agonizingly slow. The Prime shouted down as he grabbed the gun, pushing down with his leg on to Megatron's arm. He became mortified after realizing what he was attempting to do, trying to kick Prime away without much success. The cannon was gripped and pulled on, making him clench up as wires broke with the contest.

A scream of misery rocketed through the clearing as the cannon was torn off in a dirty jagged jolt. Energon spilled out from the artery that connected it to his arm, crunching his sharp teeth as hard as they would allow. Optimus threw the cannon away from their stumbled forms, repositioning himself on top of Megatron as he breathed in pained gasps.

Megatron opened his optics to look up at his tormentor, startled by the show. It was, no, it was strange seeing Prime like this. It was invigorating, it was exciting, it was, it was…

Said Prime got up to lift him by the crests of his chassis, digits leaving scratches in his skin as he was shoved back to the ground, landing on his stomach with a crackle. Face full of gravel, he twisted his helm to the side just to vent from his intake again. He coughed, that wasn't good.

"Well well, Prime. It looks like you have defeated me, I'm impressed." He did mean it in some ways, that didn't stop him from being annoyed by it. With his awkward position on the ground, he had a hard time seeing the one standing above him. His spark stuttered when Optimus planted his sword swiftly next to his helm, the line of the blade nose length away, it reminded him of his mortality.

"Hurry up and finish me, you aren't the type to gloat." 

He could feel Optimus breathing just by the knee on his back, sword unmoving from its place in the gravel. The silence was unnerving besides their shared vents, wind wisping gently, bringing cold air to satisfy their overheat. 

A hand was put on the back of his helm, firm and unforgiving as it held him down.

"No."

No? Still didn't have it in him to finally kill him, typical Prime he thought to himself. Before Megatron could use that mockery, the sound of the sword scratching out of the gravel grated his audials, red of his optics closing against the metal before it left his view.

"An honourable death while fighting your greatest adversary, that is too good for you."

The tip of the sword moved across his back elegantly, swallowing hard as the hand on his helm didn't budge. It sat so firmly he felt that Prime wasn't tired at all, like some sort of untapped energy reserve had been acquired, just to defeat him. Scratches were left on his plating as the blade explored, unnatural, concern started to crumble his processor.

It crept down his spine, worrying him when Optimus was going to sink it in. It kept going lower, and lower, if he were human, a comical bead of sweat would be on his forehead. Those digits scratched him as the blade finally left his body, glad but not showing his relief.

A humiliating hmph! escaped his intake as he felt the tip of the blade suddenly jab at the crease of his modesty plating, twisting as if trying to prod it off. He didn't want to know what his face was looking like at the moment.

"You wouldn't-" Optimus huffed and didn't let up, sliding the sword around the narrow, finding the springs of the cover.

"Wouldn't I?"

Finally Megatron noticed how unruly that voice was, the unnerving way it was Optimus but it really wasn't. This couldn't be happening, Prime currently trying to open his valve cover in the most humiliating of ways. He growled in anger, twisting in place in an attempt to get him off of his back.

The hand on his helm lowered down to his neck and grabbed a choke-full, gasping as his spine gave a whine from the pressure. Words didn't need to be said for the threat to accommodate itself.

Eventually the plating was inched far enough off his groin that Optimus put away his blade and did an even worse deed, jamming his digits in the rivet and began pulling. His optics squinted down at the pain, a yelp sounding as the cover was torn off in a single violent motion.

His Energon was on fire, from the adrenaline of the battle to the anger and humiliation of what was happening and going to happen. Optimus wasn't seriously going to rape him, especially after a defeat like that? It wasn't like the Prime at all, and the way it made him feel small in comparison was unsettling.

"You can't do this, you can't-!"

Cut off from the horrific sensation of two digits being rammed inside his valve, he clenched up instantly and hissed to silence his complaint. He was charged already from their previous battle, somehow that felt worse than being dry. To the very least, it hurt less, glaring into the ground as the fingers mercilessly pushed and stretched him out like an interfacing toy.

The pain was still prominent, unable to differentiate it with his emotional strife and the burn of his under-used valve being violated. He wanted to move, kick Prime away and rip off his smokestacks in the way he ripped off his cannon, Energon still staining the ground like spilt paint.

Despite barely being more than a few kliks, the time Optimus invaded his interface with those digits felt like an eternity. He winced as a node was touched roughly, hurting deep within at what he knew was about to come. Barely any foreplay, the fingers left him, though Megatron did not feel relieved in the slightest.

His aft was lifted in the air a bit more, hand finally removed from the back of his helm, no more face full of gravel. Still, he knew better than to fight back, for now at least, twisting his head to try and get a view of his assailant. The lack of any sort of emotion or mindfulness on Prime's faceplates was one of the most disturbing things his optics could conjure. Yet, some part in him knew that underneath that grey mask, Optimus was smiling.

"What's gotten into you Prime? Raping your enemy while he's down, I thought you were above that."

He made sure to add a hint of sarcasm in that statement, besides the subconscious wavering of his voice that he desperately wished would go away. Prime didn't retort, he didn't even respond in any sort of way as a click was heard, knowing instantly what it was.

From his position, he couldn't see Optimus bring out his spike but he knew it was there. A digit swiped at the fluid that had been moved around his valve, Megatron grimaced as the Prime leaned over him, hand on his back grabbing a fistfull of his metal jags. Spark pounding annoyingly against the casing, he made sure to snarl up to his Nemesis, showcasing his agitation and fear.

The spike poked at his rim, another wave of clenching down on nothing, in preparation for the discomfort. What he didn't expect was for the spike to be shoved in succession, causing him to yell out in agony at the strange pain. It was bigger than he thought, gritting his denta in anger and embarrassment as Optimus held that way for a while.

It was beyond the abilities of what he would imagine the Prime to do, the worst thing he could come up with was a quick death, not this total humiliation! The mech above him now moved his other hand to his waist, making him feel like an addled mount, the shadow looming down on him seemed to grow the more he stared. Eventually, Prime growled and started to move in a not-slow-at-all pace, causing him to groan. 

If it weren't for his already there discharge, the process would be even more painful. Hissing and clawing at the ground, he bruted through and tried to ignore it. What was harder to ignore was the growing feeling in his gut, ill at his body's response to the assault.

Prime pushed down again as he thrusted, once again his face was in the dirt, seeing the reflection of his optics at how close they were. His shoulders ached, valve sending sensations through his entire frame that were completely unwanted. Another groan shot out, horrified that it wasn't from the pain this time.

"S-Stop it you bumbling Autobot..." Coming out as if to say what Prime was doing wasn't funny anymore, finally getting sick of his actions as the dreadful sensations sprouted out from between his legs. Optimus' pace was brutal and calculated, knowing that the mech was staring down at him only made it worse.

Gasps and huffs became a constant as his valve was fully adjusted, unhappy by that fact and its offspring. Head pent to the side, he tried his damnedest to think of arousal killing thoughts, staring off into the forest connecting to the rolling hills of nothing. It was an impossible feat, that presence of the Prime being too all-encompassing and obvious, how mighty Prime was the one doing this to him.

A moan withered out of him, no longer having the will to stop them from flying. Everything hurt, his wounds, his armour, his heart, but all he could even focus on were the awful feelings overtaking his processor. 

When was Optimus even going to finish? He couldn't even tell the difference between then and now, twisting his optics full throttle to watch him pound into his valve, making his spark twinge in anguish.

"Optimusss…"

 Pleasure filled his circuitry in new and horrifying ways, oh no… it was total degradation and now it was too late to stop his crescendo of feeling. Optimus twisted in place, lifting one of his legs up and sending new waves of euphoria down his struts.

He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this, it wasn't enjoyable at all. Shame swallowed him whole, crying out as the spike stabbed him without remorse for his well-being. Gripping at nothing, more shame was given to him at the wetness he felt on his faceplates, defeat beating him down in the way Prime had done prior.

Overload was only kliks away, that feeling foreboding and haunting him as he moaned weakly, voicebox beginning to crackle. Every time his spark spun a stinging sensation accompanied his ecstatic haze, hurt by what was happening, and most importantly, who was doing it.

A shrill groan escaped him as overload struck, not as quickly as he'd hoped it would pass. Optimus didn't even stop as his valve clenched down roughly, extending the orgasm to uncontrollable heights. His body convulsed at the pleasure, gasping out and unable to form any real words as he finally collapsed to the ground, the Prime still holding up his waist for his use.

The after-effects of the overload still permeated as Optimus kept thrusting, that horrible post-orgasm pleasure shooting through his entire body as it was violated. Eventually, Megatron had stopped counting how long, he felt Prime pause and hilt as deeply as his valve would allow it, feeling the spike pulsate as it was filled to the brim. If he already felt used and sticky before, the transfluid now dripping out of his valve and on to the gravel made it much worse. 

...slag, panting with his eyes pierced closed and brows furrowed, he came back to his senses. The sheer idea that Optimus now had the image of him writhing underneath his gaze made him beyond angry, not even noticing how much he was shivering. Pain finally resurfaced as his pleasure subsided, taking a good look at his arm where the cannon once rested. Energon spilled everywhere, but thankfully the leak had been plugged by his repair systems. Though, he now realized there were some wounds not even his systems could fix.

The hands on his back left, and even then, Megatron could find the motivation to get up, exhausted by both the fight and interface. Cold began to bite at his limbs once more as there was no outlet for his heat, mouth pinched into a half-snarl, half-shameful expression. He wished Prime would hurry up and kill him, the quiet was worsening his thoughts.

Ground snapping, it signaled that Optimus had stood up, click of the spike panel as it closed. Thank Primus, it was over, unless the Prime somehow had a more creative method of torture in mind. Breathing harshly, he pushed his elbows against the ground with immense effort, placing a servo on the front of his helm and over his optics, he didn't want to look even if it was just the gravel he was staring at.

"A-Are you happy Prime? " Spoke Megatron weakly, static having yet to leave until a reboot was put in place. He didn't need to see to know Optimus was backing away, thumping of pedes in slow motions.

"I, I didn't-" he almost sounded afraid, another personality Megatron had never witnessed before.

"Didn't WHAT, P-Prime?"

He didn't even move, coughing and attempting to recalibrate his voice synthesizer on the fly. Spark hurting and body aching, he wanted to see Prime's masked face, to know the satisfaction his assault must have brought to him.

"If you were planning on defeating me today, then CONGRATULATIONS."

There was silence for a good long, no movement besides Megatron's deep intakes. Eventually, the pause ended, more footsteps with the following clanking of parts transforming, wheels rolling on the grey as Optimus drove away. Typical Prime.

Whether it was out of guilt, deprivation, or him just running away from his problems, Megatron would never know.

He didn't care all that much, relishing in the fact that he was finally alone, resting his head against the dirt as he quivered aimlessly. That feeling of stickiness was never going to leave, no matter how many washes he would take.