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The change happened early in the morning. Minimus woke from his restless recharge with a gasp, and in a second his frame was shifting apart. He was not surprised, per se; he had known and prepared for this, making sure his energon levels were maxed out the night before and that Velocity had been notified.
That didn’t mean it wasn’t unpleasant, though.
When Minimus transformed voluntarily – which he rarely did – it was odd, though not painful. But now that it was involuntary, Minimus found himself curling up at the sensation of the panels along his arms and legs drawing back to expose the struts and wires underneath. Six winding cables burst from his back, their claws clenching open and closed as they curled around his body protectively, and his jaw unhinged with an unnerving crack . He shivered to feel his stomach opening to the cool air of his habsuite.
With that, the hunger came. Primus, he ached . Minimus groaned as it washed over him, so sharp it was painful. In the week before, he had been able to tamp down on the feeling even as it clouded his mind and made his work agonizing to do, but now…
Suddenly, the pulse of every spark for miles around was ringing in his ears. So many , and so much variety! Outlier sparks, point one percenters, sparks that dimmed and flared so brightly it was like they were about to go out — and they all smelled so delicious…
Minimus automatically started salivating at the very thought of them, and then shook his head violently. He had to keep his focus. He had been able to keep in control for most of his life, and he wasn’t about to lose it now. Taking a deep breath, he sat up on his berth and turned on the lights. Confined to his habsuite, he couldn’t perform most of his duties for the day, but he had already notified Rodimus of his intention to take sick leave.
(Meanwhile, Rodimus snorted in his sleep and rolled over to wrap himself in a death grip around a tacky arm. He had not checked his inbox for three weeks and would continue to not do so today.)
All Minimus had to do for today was keep himself busy and ignore the siren call of the point one percenter spark walking up to his door…
When the knock came, Minimus nearly jumped onto the ceiling.
Then, a tentative but familiar voice spoke through the door. “Minimus? Have you- are you in?”
Minimus relaxed his arched back, conscious of how it made him look more like an animal than a mech. “Ah- yesss. Come in.”
The door slid open, and Megatron stepped inside. As his optics lit upon Minimus, they widened for a split second – it seemed he was not quite used to Minimus’s sparkeater form quite yet. Understandable, though it made Minimus want to turn away in embarassment.
“Good morning, Minimus. Is everything alright?” Megatron’s voice was carefully measured as always (though his gaze lingered on the empty space of Minimus’s abdomen for just a moment). It was reassuring to hear- distracted him from the siren song of the mech’s spark.
“I’m… as fine asss I could be.” Minimus curled his claws into a fist, trying in vain to clear his throat. “The, erm- ...hunger, iss distracting.”
Megatron’s brow furrowed in concern. “Well,” he began tentatively as he sat next to Minimus, “hopefully I will be able to remedy that.”
Minimus turned pink. “Oh. Right. Yess.”
Ratchet had given him the go-ahead when he had quietly asked about the safety of merging while he was in his sparkeater form yesterday – he hadn’t mentioned any details, but by the tiny smirk the medic wore as he dismissed him from the medbay, Minimus could have sworn he knew something about his plans. Primus, if any of this were to get out- and if Ratchet had been mistaken? If something went wrong- if Minimus lost control the second Megatron got too close, if he couldn’t resist the hunger still growling through his circuits, if he- if he- if-
Megatron put a hand on his arm. “Minimus?”
“What? Nothing, I’m fine!” Minimus blurted out, then fell silent and turned somehow redder.
“...Are you alright?”
Minimus swallowed and looked away – though he didn’t shake off the warm, anchoring hand. “...I… Are you ssure you want to do thiss?”
There was a second of silence that stretched for far too long in Minimus’s ears. His claws dug into his palms, just waiting for the realization, the refusal, the click of his habsuite door sliding open and closed-
Large hands gathered him up in a loose embrace, and then that point-one-percenter spark was thrumming just in front of him, so strong and warm it made his whole frame ache to feel it.
“Minimus.”
Minimus’s eyes swung up from the center of Megatron’s chest to his optics, and the strength of the gaze he met turned his throat dry. His expression was shockingly open – filled with a haphazard mix of nervousness and determination and almost- almost-
Ah. No, he couldn’t think of that word yet. He could call it admiration, affection, loyalty. Perhaps even trust. But not that one. Not now.
“Forgive my ineloquence, but- I- I want to help you. I want to do this.” Megatron glanced down. “...May I?
Minimus stared at him. Was he-? He was asking Minimus if he could part his chestplates? The realization was like a physical blow, part of Minimus sputtering how silly that was, asking him permission – and the other part of him just sat there, stunned. “I- well- if you are quite ssure,” he choked out.
Megatron smiled, small and tentative and only for him, and green light seeped from the seams of his chest.
Minimus couldn’t remember opening his own sparkchamber. There was- Megatron’s spark, green and gleaming and beautiful, and- his systems telling him feed , feed, it’s right in front of you take it take it t-
and Megatron had lifted him into a kiss. Minimus kissed back, even though his lips were pulled thin and his teeth were bared, even though the hunger was screaming at him and his whole body trembled- it didn’t matter anymore.
Their chests were pressed together and he felt the hunger give way to violent, loving electricity.
Megatron feels like stability. He is so unsure about his own place and there are so many things he wants to be but he is scared that he will never realize them, he has such guilt weighing him down and he would be content to lay down and let it take him if not for them , if not for Minimus , if not for the hope and the want to make him happy .
Outside, he held Megatron’s shoulders, the cables from his back stretching to their full length just to wrap around the larger mech and keep them together. Megatron buried his head into the crook of Minimus’s neck, murmuring words neither of them could hear.
Primus- all he wants, all he wants is Minimus happy. Minimus feels this, Minimus knows this, and Megatron knows him too. Megatron sees all of him and stays.
As the world bled into white, Minimus sighed. He wasn’t hungry anymore.