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It had been some time since Megatron had really interacted with Minimus. They had shifts together and a few meetings, but for the most part it seemed as though the smaller mech had been avoiding him, though he hadn't acted any less professional than he usually did.
He wondered what the problem was. The two of them had gone through the same avoidance before, shortly after the Lost Light's jump, but it had been mostly resolved after an overcharged and overly emotional talk in Minimus' quarters. Megatron thought that they were over this. Perhaps not.
He decided not to push the issue. Minimus had a right to privacy, and maybe this wasn't even related to him. Minimus had been acting somewhat odd all week, and not just to him. But he had to admit that he was worried. He didn't want to pry, but…
Just as he started pacing around his room, Megatron received a communication from the mech in question.
[Megatron. Could you please meet with me planetside? There is something I must share with you. Thank you. — Minimus.]
The vague message was followed by a set of coordinates located in the northern region of the planet that the Lost Light was visiting at the moment.
Firing off a quick reply, Megatron hurried his way off the ship. As far as he knew, Minimus had been sequestered in his quarters and had not been planning on exiting anytime soon. When did he leave the ship? Did he go alone? Megatron did not know, and it made him concerned. Minimus typically made his whereabouts clear to everyone so he could be easily contacted in any event. This sort of behaviour was unusual for a mech like him.
Megatron's treads hit the snowy ground as he drove out to where Minimus presumably was. Perhaps he'd get an answer for why Minimus had been so distant these past few weeks.
When he arrived at the coordinates, at the top of a snowy cliff with a view of the forests below and the night sky above, he saw Minimus, sitting in his Irreducible form, looking out over the edge.
Transformation sounds alerted the small mech to his presence. Minimus turned to look at Megatron over his shoulder.
“You're here.”
Megatron huffed. “Of course I'm here.” He made his way towards the other mech. “You called.”
Minimus blinked, then quickly turned his face back around.
“I, ah. I called because. Because, um.”
“Please don't force yourself.” Megatron sat down next to him, carefully. “I know I am your captain, but you are under no obligation to tell me anything if you do not feel comfortable.” He pushed as much sincerity as he could into his words.
Minimus looked up at him, staring into the larger mech's optics for some time.
He sighed. “I am aware. But I want to tell you.” His optics softened. “I want you to know about this.”
With that, he stood up and took a deep ventilation.
“You may have noticed that I've been a bit off lately. It is something that comes up regularly, though I have usually been able to conceal it with the Magnus Armour,” he began. “Pre-set commands and responses. If Ultra Magnus ever had a week where he acted a bit more “drone-like” than usual, that was why.” Minimus let out a small, self-deprecating laugh.
“Come on now.” Megatron said, reaching out to rest his hand over the other mech's. “Don't say that about yourself.”
Minimus glanced at the hand grasping his own, took a shaky breath and squeezed.
“Mn. Right.”
“Minimus. Look at me.” Megatron took his free servo and gently placed it under Minimus' chin.
The small mech hesitated but looked up.
“Whatever this is, I can assure you that you will not lose any respect from me,” Megatron said, “If… If I am correct in assuming that this is about your altmode, then you know that I of all people will not judge. I will not treat you any lesser for having a turbofox alt than a vehicular one.”
Minimus blinked. “Ah, hm. Yes, well. About that…”
“Hm?”
“It is not my beast form that's causing the problem so much as my, ah.” Minimus reset his vocaliser several times. “My sparkeater form.”
Megatron stilled. “Wait, what?”
Minimus took a step back.
“Would you like to see?” he asked.
Dumbfounded, all Megatron could do was nod.
What followed looked less like the typical shifting of parts and more like a mech being turned inside out, revealing more and more of Minimus' internal systems, leaving cables exposed and struts visible. His abdominal plates opened up completely, letting Megatron see the yawning emptiness inside, as long prehensile data cables burst out from Minimus' back, their deadly sharp tips glinting in the moonlight.
It was long and drawn-out, unlike the quick change that transformation usually was. Minimus flexed his servos, now ending in claws.
Megatron gaped. This had not been what he was expecting at all. But sparkeater or not, this was still Minimus, wasn't it?
“So. This is what you wanted to show me.”
“Yesss,” Minimus hissed out. His voice was a quiet thing, hollow, strained and staticky. There was an echo to it. “It wasss. Important. That I inform you of thisss…”
Ah. Megatron pushed down his horror. Yes, this was indeed still Minimus. Then, he realised something.
“You're empty,” he said, “Doesn't that hurt? How are you…?”
“Living? I've gotten, ah. Usssed to it. The hunger.” Minimus held a clawed hand above his bare abdomen. “My brother and I. Grew up like thisss. Half-sparkeatersss. Not sso desssperate for food.”
“I see,” Megatron said, putting the pieces together. “So, your behaviour this past week was due to this? The hunger?”
Minimus nodded. “Yess. Tomorrow will be the worsst one. But after that, it will be gone. Until the next month or sso.”
“When you say worst one, you mean—”
“I mean. All day. Hungry.” Minimus growled.
At that, he transformed back into his normal root mode.
Minimus reset his voice box. “I'm sorry. I meant that tomorrow, I will shift into this form for the whole day whether I like it or not.” He then quickly looked away, folding his arms around himself.
“Do the medics know?”
“Yes. But there is no cure for it,” Minimus said, bitterly.
Megatron shook his head. “That is not what I meant. I'm asking out of concern for your health. If you will be locking yourself in your quarters alone like I assume you usually do…”
“Oh. I usually overfill myself on energon right before it happens.”
Megatron frowned. “But you do starve yourself.”
“Well.” Minimus looked sheepish. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
The large mech let out a deep ventilation. “That's no good. Is it not possible for me to help in some way? You feed off of spark energy, don't you?” He asked, resting his hand over his chest, where his spark chamber lied.
Minimus choked on nothing. “Y-you are not offering yourself!”
Megatron laughed. “No, no. I find myself quite fond of living, actually.”
The smaller mech smiled, just a little bit. He sat back down on the snow, pulled his knees up and curled his arms around them.
“So I assume you mean, ah, spark merging,” he spoke, “That could probably resolve the issue, I think.”
“We should check with Ratchet first.”
“Yes. And before you worry, I am capable of intelligent thought tomorrow. The pain of hunger makes it difficult to think clearly, but if I am not hungry, then… I'll just be me. But as a sparkeater.”
Megatron let out a ventilation in relief. “That's good. I was just about to ask. You are a very important person to me, and I'd hate to do anything to hurt you.”
Minimus looked up at him with warm optics. “I know,” he whispered, “That's why I told you about this. I trust you.”
Oh. Megatron felt his vents hitch, and he felt his spark spin and contract. He did, didn't he? Minimus trusted him with this secret, and he trusted him enough to eventually merge sparks. Megatron could hardly believe it.
“Ah! Megatron, your optic coolant. It's leaking.”
He sniffed. “Huh?”
Minimus gently climbed onto his lap to reach up and wipe away at the liquid that pooled around Megatron's optics.
“Oh, I didn't realise…”
Megatron's sentence trailed off as he became aware of Minimus' presence on him. His small frame was backlit by the two moons in the night sky and the northern lights made colours dance on his plating. Minimus' tiny servos lingered on his face. Megatron was all of a sudden struck by the urge to lean forward, to cradle Minimus' face in his own hands and—
And then Minimus kissed him.
A shy, chaste kiss, that still managed to take him off balance. But as quickly as it occurred, it was taken away.
“I-I'm sorry, I should have asked—”
“May I kiss you again?” Megatron asked, interrupting. He let his hands rest on the small of Minimus' back, supporting him.
Minimus blinked, then said, “Yes. Please.”
And so the night was spent that way, the two of them exchanging sweet kisses and soft words, the light show in the sky going unnoticed in favour of each other.
“Mn. I forgot,” Minimus said, out of nowhere.
Megatron made a confused sound. “Forgot what?”
Minimus laughed and rested his head against the large mech's chassis. “I actually did mean to show you my turbofox alt tonight.”
“Oh, well,” Megatron smiled, and let one of his hands curl lovingly around Minimus' cheek, “You can do it whenever you feel like it. It's a new universe, isn't it? We have all the time in the world.”