Megatron often found himself staring at Optimus, out of the corner of his optic or taking small glances when the Prime isn’t looking. In the past, Megatron did so to always have an eye on his opponent. He never let his enemies out of his sight, that was why Soundwave was in Special Ops and Starscream was his second in command on the bridge. He would note Optimus’ mood or visible expression, weighing when to pounce or storing the information away for later. It was satisfying to see Optimus deflate when he realized he had accidentally given a detail away without noticing.

But more recently, he’d been noticing smaller things. How Optimus’ protoform crinkled at is eyes, or how his finials would flick depending on his mood. It had been very satisfying when he could fluster Optimus too, seeing his face go purple under his mask, his finials flicking in irritation or interest.

He had realized it had gone beyond simply reading his enemy for awhile now. He had always harboured some strong feelings about Optimus, but it hadn’t been so concrete as it was now. Before, it was a vague longing or infatuation with someone he could never have. But now, it had morphed into something tantalizingly real.

He and Optimus were no longer strangers; they ate together, they argued over rebuilding Cybertron, and they had recently been going on walks during the late hours when neither of them could get recharge. It was so much easier now, to imagine sitting together late at night, or going on a fine dining date. It was so close.

But Megatron knew it was impossible.

Optimus was many things, but observant clearly wasn’t one of them. He was stubborn to a fault, and better at empathizing with other people’s feelings than he was at identifying his own. And even if he wasn’t, Megatron knew it was a fantasy.

They spent time together out of convenience, out of loneliness. No one could quite understand them like they could eachother, and confiding in their underlings didn’t feel right. But after this was all over? They would just be ordinary mechs again.

Megatron wasn’t sure how he felt about that idea either, aside from Optimus. He had been someone for so long; a gladiator, a rebel, a leader, a tyrant, and now a peacemaker. But this… it was almost like resetting back to when he was first activated, deep underground.

These thoughts are what eventually led him to Optimus’ door, late into the night cycle.

“Megatron?” He asked, tilting his head in question. The light from his apartment came in from behind him, making Optimus appear almost glowing.

“I need someone to talk to.” Megatron said, forcing the words out. Despite popular belief, aka Starscream, he wasn’t an idiot. Megatron knew he couldn’t marinate in these feelings forever, so he might as well rip the bandaid off now.

Optimus sighed, ever patient of Megatron. “Come on in, I have some engex.”

-

“….huh.” Optimus said, watching Megatron bury his head in his arms. He had confessed… quite a lot just now. Optimus at one point might’ve squinted in suspicion, but Megatron was quite blunt.

“You don’t need to say anything. I needed this.” Megatron said, voice muffled by his arms.

“Yeah, no, I can see that.” Optimus stuttered, not sure what to say.

He had been noticed the other mech watching him from afar for a while now, but was never able to ascertain why. Megatron’s face always looked focused, lines indented in his protoform dragging his mouth into a neutral frown. He often looked angry, even when he was likely just zoning out of talks. Optimus had never caught on to what those looks meant.

But… he couldn’t say he didn’t like it.

In recent times, Cybertron had been rebuilt quite beautifully. It slowly but steadily was built back up again, now with monuments to the dead and old walls or statues to the oppressive Protectobots torn down. Megatron had been by his side throughout all these years, even coming to advocate for the human’s rights to the galactic council alongside Optimus. The time they were enemies felt so long ago now, even though Optimus knew that it had only been a few vorns.

They had done so much damage to one another though, Optimus never figured their feelings were mutual.

Megatron had to start using a cane, since his hip joints had sustained permanent damage after centuries of abuse. He used glasses, after one too many blaster bolts to the face. Optimus was once proud of these injuries, but now it only brought him shame.

“Do you want me to go?” Megatron said, sitting upwards.

Optimus panicked a little as he saw Megatron shift away in his chair, feeling like this opportunity might slip him by.

“No!” Optimus said, a bit too urgently before looking away and clearing his voice box. “No, it’s okay. I… feel the same.”

Megatron stared at him for a moment, that focused and almost angry expression again. It made Optimus’ spark beat faster now though, knowing that it was reserved for him.

Megatron then chuckled. “Didn’t think I would get this far, but… want to give it a shot?” He said.

Optimus came around the table, cupping Megatron’s face softly. “Niether did I. Might as well, right?” Optimus said.

He knew this will probably blow up in their face. There was so much yet so little said tonight, and they would probably need a therapist at some point.

But now, Megatron’s smile and lean into his touch made those worries disappear.

They could figure it out, and it seemed both of them were in the mood for some affection.