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When Starscream had arrived at the annual celebration of lasting peace, he hadn't expected to see Megatron, much less to have Megatron approach him with an offer of companionship and a reprieve from the commotion.
Starscream couldn't remember the last time the two of them had just…spent time together. It had to have been before the war, back when they were young and fresh and not yet burdened. He was a young noble, Megatron a renegade warrior with words like nectar and venom and a vision of freedom paved with hellfire. He had been smitten the first time he'd laid optics on that tall powerful frame.
And he'd been enraged to learn the truth behind its' construction; what they'd done to him, what they'd taken from him.
He would have gladly followed Megatron into his grave, even later in the war when their relationship became more complicated. It was harder to define, but it was certainly toxic, neither would deny that. Starscream inwardly cringes at the memory of the day the war ended, the day it really ended, not when the papers were signed, Megatron hadn't even reached out to Optimus yet...no.
The war ended the day Megatron almost killed Starscream.
To Starscream, and anyone else who was close enough to the two of them, that's when it ended; when Megatron realized that he'd completely lost his mind. Something that frankly meant a great deal more to him than most could even begin to understand. Back then though...Starscream had yet to realize how far they'd fallen, and Megatron turning him away, ending the war...it had tasted like betrayal far more fowl than any wound that had ever been inflicted on Starscream's frame.
They'd spoken periodically after the war obviously, but it was mostly business, though Starscream was fairly certain there wasn't a mech on the entire damn planet who didn't know about his mental problems now...or how much time he'd spent at the hospital. Which explained why Megatron would ask how he was doing more often than was strictly professional.
But again, this was the first time in millions of years that they'd just...casually spent time together. Starscream knew there were things between them that needed discussing, old wounds that needed stitching, but he didn't know where to begin. And this certainly wasn't the venue for that conversation, but small talk never suited him, so he sat awkwardly stiff and watched the crowd and vaguely listened to the chatter.
His optics were drawn unerringly to a young speedster moving about the crowd of gathered bots, his winning smile flashing at anyone who looked his way. His name was…Rodimus. Starscream wasn’t entirely sure why he was being expected to remember the names of all these Autobots, it seemed entirely pointless. It’s not like he was a political figure anymore, in fact he's fairly certain he only gets invited to these things because people are afraid he'll throw a fit. That and because Skyfire is a friend of Optimus. And Skyfire rarely goes anywhere without Starscream.
A soft noise caught his attention and he turned his helm to regard Megatron, who had this soft….ridiculous little smile, like he was remembering something sweet and pleasant. It was so blatantly beyond what Starscream was used to seeing that he was somewhat unnerved. But it also brought forth memories of dimly lit rooms and flowery language he'd laughed at at the time. Before Starscream could stare too long and make a fool of himself Megatron spoke.
“He reminds me of you. A younger you.” his voice rumbled with fond amusement.
Starscream blinked and then squinted skeptically at Megatron. And then in typical paranoid fashion quickly scanned the environment...but he didn't appear. Hadn't for years now technically but...old habits.
When Megatron turned to look at him, curious over the extended silence, Starscream immediately straightened and looked back toward the crowd; he didn't miss the faint flicker of concern though. He observed the flame decaled sports car for a moment more and snorted derisively.
“Most people do not dole out insults while sounding affectionate. Don’t do it. It’s disturbing.” He deflected flatly, ruffling his plating and casting his gaze elsewhere.
Megatron let out a single short breath of a laugh, but did not bite back and did not attempt to carry any further conversation. It was so...tolerant of him, and good natured. He also, rather pointedly, did not ask about what had given Starscream such unnerved pause.
But as the silence lingered, a silence that was oddly comfortable, he found curiosity getting the better of him, “…just wondering, only because I can’t fathom the familiarity you see, what makes you say that?”
Megatron hummed in thought, a pleasant noise that rolled from deep inside his chassis, “Well, he’s perhaps not as spoilt and princely as you were," he paused and Starscream scrunched his face up at the comment, "but he’s fresh and childlike. Energetic and chaotic. He has no concept of authoritative respect, nor how to speak without sassing everyone, and he walks into my office like he owns the place."
Starscream didn’t miss the way Megatron side eyed him with an infuriatingly playful little smirk, but he pretended not to notice and simply continued to scowl. He made no attempt to refute any of those claims though.
"You need a Conjunx." Starscream bluntly stated, seemingly out of nowhere.
He'd been thinking it for some time, stating it as well at every chance he got when interacting with his former leader. For reasons that were certainly not personal in any shape or form. Megatron had politely dismissed it every time, sometimes agitatedly if someone else had said something similar recently.
This time though he indulged Starscream with a soft huff, “And why is that exactly?”
Starscream deadpanned and stared at him like it should have been obvious, “You need someone to smooth out that unsettled old spark of yours, keep you in the present so you don't keep thinking about...unpleasant things. Hopefully someone who’ll force you to stop thinking so much in general and live a little.”
Megatron hummed again, but this time the tone was somber, and Starscream knew he'd stepped on a figurative landmine before Megatron even spoke again. But his tone remained even and calm, and he even smiled, though it was melancholic.
“Perhaps you are taking thinking for granted; after all, you have always been allowed to do it.”
And of course that wasn’t what he'd meant. Of course he didn’t mean to, to say Megatron should go back to being….
He sat up very straight and gripped the edge of his seat, his slender digits creating harsh dents.
“That’s not what I-!" He began, harsh but frantic, bordering on shrill, but Megatron cut him off with a gentle hand on top of his own.
Starscream whipped his attention round to look down at his small hand, entirely engulfed by Megatron's larger one. And where their plating touched he could feel the smooth roll of Megatron's field, and the reassurance there.
Megatron squeezed lightly, “I know, but I also know it says more about you than me...if you consider me remembering my fonder days with you as unpleasant.”
And then that impossibly even field, usually held tight to Megatron's frame, expanded just enough to surround himself and Starscream...it was very, very tentative. A soft, questioning caress.
Starscream hesitated for a long moment, but the patience and reassurance Megatron exuded was unending it seemed. Eventually he slowly flipped his hand upwards and laced his clawed digits with larger blunt ones. And took a moment to simply study the differences; his smooth polished blue plating against Megatron's rough and scarred black.
"Do you still...?" he whispered, barely audible at all, not even daring to finish the question.
If there was a tinge of hope in the half question, neither of them addressed it.
"I never stopped." was the short, quiet answer he received, filled with more conviction than Starscream had expected.
Neither spoke again for the duration of the evening, but Starscream found himself tucked closer to Megatron's side and neither removed their hands from one another. Megatron’s grip was gentle, his presence an anchor; and for what felt like the first time, Starscream didn't feel like he was teetering on some invisible precipice.
There was still much that needed saying, much that needed doing...
...but this was a start, and it was already far better than anything he could have imagined.