The ceremony was one full of pomp and celebration, both factions cheering on the union of their leaders. It was a symbolic bonding, one to cement that both of them would have equal power in their new society. Megatron tried to hide his discontentment behind a smirk and keeping his arm locked around the Prime’s, but it wasn’t long until they were escorted out to finish the bonding and get dressed for the party to come.

Megatron let his face slip back into neutrality, trying not to look at the prime. He knew Optimus was just as unhappy as he was, but held by even more responsibility than Megatron held. Optimus was a Prime, meaning he could only bond to a High Lord Protector while Megatron could have relations with whoever he wanted. Megatron would not care if Optimus broke this taboo, even encouraged him to find a lover after this ceremony was over, but Optimus held too much honour to allow himself to bond to someone and love another.

As they got cleaned up, Megatron noticed a small pink vial Optimus was inspecting. It wasn’t long before Megatron recognized it. He waited until the others had left, and then snatched it out of Optimus’ servo. Optimus looked back, face hidden behind his mask. “What are you doing?” Megatron demanded. He presented the vial as it bubbled ominously, face scrunched in disgust and pity.

Optimus sighed, holding himself. “I will not bond to someone I don’t love.” He said, voice quiet as a petro mouse. It made Megatron’s energon boil in his lines, the absolute resignation to his fate Optimus held. “Then why did you even agree to this? You were in the position to-“

“No, I wasn’t.” Optimus cut Megatron off. He looked Megatron in the optic now, his shoulders sagging under invisible weight. “During the war, I was given temporary command as an emergency measure after the whole council was killed. Never to change the laws or traditions of my position.” He said, and Megatron didn’t know how to respond.

He knew Optimus was given emergency power, his position would usually be filled by a Lord Protector or someone they gave as their successor. The Prime was the last option before giving it to senators or random promising citizens. But that none of the Autobots even thought to reform such a law?

He wasn’t sure to be thankful, he would have absolute authority over the laws and military under such a deal, or extreme anger that they would put their leader, who defeated him time and again, in such a position command. He decided on anger, refusing to be thankful for much a repugnant system.

Optimus sadly looked at Megatron, extending his servo. “Please,” he pleaded, “give me this much.”

Megatron looked down at the vial of Ambrosia. It was a vile chemical, one which tricked the processor to release pleasing signals when facing a certain mech that imprinted on the one given the drug. It caused extreme feelings of happiness, love, adoration, and loyalty. Optimus would be his to command if he took it.

Megatron shook his head, and looked back at Optimus. “No.” He said. Optimus just sighed. “You know I can just get another, right?”

Megatron scoffed, “Of course, I’m not an idiot. But I won’t give it to you, because I don’t want you to be drugged into compliance.” He set the vial away carefully in his subspace, and grasped Optimus’ servo in his own.

He looked at Optimus, determination running through his circuits, and leaned in. “Give me a chance for you to love me naturally. A vorn, a decacycle, something.” He said, and he would have laughed at himself if he wasn’t so serious. He sounded like some love interest in a two bit love story, yet he meant every word.

Optimus looked down at their hands conjoined, and sighed once again in resignation. Megatron wanted to slap him. “Alright.” He agreed, before retracting his mask and giving a delicate peck to Megatron’s cheek. “Let’s try.” He said softly, a quiet promise simmering under his words.

Megatron leaned in, returning the peck to the cheek. “Right. Now, we have a party to attend.”

——————

Megatron disposed of the vial as soon as he could, following Shockwave’s instructions on how to neutralize the chemical and safely dispose of it over comms.

He returned to their shared berthroom to find Optimus awake, reading some kind of novel on a datapad. He looked invested, though the blankness on his face was strange to Megatron and he did not like it. “What is that?” He said, and Optimus glanced up before his optics focused back on his novel. “A human book, I never got to finish it before we left.” He said. Megatron hmphed, laying down next to Optimus. “I don’t think I’ll understand your fondness for those squishy creatures, it’s not like they’re even the only sentient organic species we’ve met.” He said bluntly.

Optimus just sighed, exasperated. “No, I guess they’re not.” Megatron leaned over the berth, turning off the light and leaving the Datapad to emit a low blue glow. “Good cycle Optimus, may you have peaceful sleep.” He mumbled, and Optimus softly said “And may Primus guide you in dreams.”

They slept, back to back, on the berth. As Megatron slept, Optimus wondered why Megatron stopped him earlier. Was it guilt? Pity? Optimus wasn’t sure. He was tempted to call Wheeljack or Perceptor for another vial, but it was hard enough to convince them the first time. And if Ratchet found out… there would be a reckoning.

He felt Megatron shift in his recharge, grumbling, before turning over and throwing an arm over Optimus. “Go to recharge.” Megatron grumbled in his sleep, muffled by having his face squished against Optimus’s back. Right, the bond. Megatron could likely feel his stressing through it right now, and as loose and haphazard as it was it did feel nice to have another frame cuddling into his own.

He felt himself relaxing, drifting into recharge.