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It was warm out on the pavilion, and high summer in Vos was known for it's sticky humidity. Such weather never agreed with Starscream, nor the particular brand of luxury wax he liked to use. His overzealous application of it meant he could feel it melting in certain awkward places.
He sprawled across his sun-lounger lazily, limbs splayed and armour fluffed to push the excess heat his frame generated out, but it wasn't enough.
"Optimus~!" He called playfully, tapping his digits on the armrest impatiently.
The Prime materialised at his side within seconds, obediently dipping his helm in greeting. "You called, your majesty?" He murmured respectfully.
Something inside Starscream thrilled at such reverence coming from so powerful a mech. And it helped that Optimus was so appealingly dressed- painted with swirls of 18-karat gold, wearing a sash of red silk, and drenched in chains of precious metals and jewels. Starscream smirked at his own reflection of the biggest of the diamonds - hanging on a chain around Optimus's neck, resting right over his spark chamber.
He tore his gaze away from his own stunning visage and flicked his fingers at the Prime.
"Fan me," he ordered.
He couldn't remember where he had seen it -the image of the great and mighty ruler being waited on hand and foot by beautiful half-dressed servants, wafting huge fans and hand feeding them fruit- but it had appealed enough to stick in his mind. Though there were more practical uses for an underling such as Prime than service, the pettiest part of Starscream liked for his infamous servants to perform the most menial and personally satisfying of tasks he could set.
Optimus already had a fan in hand -such competence- and he stood over Starscream with it, wafting it gently to create a refreshing breeze. Starscream leaned back and enjoyed the view through half-shuttered optics, biting down on his bottom lip at the wonderful angle he had of Optimus's chassis and powerful arms.
"Am I performing my duties to your satisfaction, your majesty?" Optimus rumbled in that sinfully smooth baritone of his.
Starscream could have melted through the lounger like his wax was trying to do. "You certainly are," he purred.
But it wasn't perfect. He was still hungry.
He snapped his fingers, and like magic, there was Megatron.
Though Starscream liked his property to shine -they were, after all, a reflection on himself- Megatron simply couldn't pull of the bejewelled look as well as Optimus. Drenching a Tarnish Gladiator in wealth simply made him look ridiculous. Not to mention Megatron's carelessness often led to expensive breakages. Instead he wore a simple red cape thrown over one shoulder, a replica of Starscream's rub-mark sewn into the corner.
Starscream lifted an elegant hand and ran his fingers down the impressive stretch of Megatron's hard iron chest. "Fuel me," he commanded.
Without so much as a whisper of snark, Megatron dropped to kneel beside his head (always such a compelling sight) and lifted a bowl full of the finest energon goodies into sight. Starscream folded his arms behind his helm and relaxed as the first rich sweet treat was brought to his lips. He took it into his mouth slowly, seductively, letting his lips close over the tips of Megatron fingers as they enveloped the treat.
Optimus continued to fan the humid air away as Starscream relaxed in the fresh air of Vos. And with his endless supply of 'treats' to gorge on, life couldn't possibly get any better than this.
Optimus and Megatron stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the sofa, staring down at the snoring seeker sprawled across it, a precariously angled bowl of energon goodies held loosely in his arms, half of it's contents already having tipped out and melted into the fabric of the sofa and the seams of Starscream's armour. A tasteless human reality show was playing on the holo-screen behind them, and was currently broadcasting several drunk women screaming.
Despite the loud volume, Starscream slept undisturbed, a myriad of emotions playing across his face as he dreamt.
"What do you think he's dreaming about?" Optimus wondered.
Megatron took in Starscream's smug, satisfied smile, and felt trepidation. "Nothing good."
Optimus hummed, moving forwards to collect the bowl. Lost to dreams of God-only-knew-what Starscream's grip tightened on it for a moment, a frown creasing his brow. Optimus gently worked it free and handed it over to Megatron.
Megatron glanced at the three half-eaten, half-melted treats that were left over. He had been looking forward to eating those.
"We should wake him up," he decided.
Optimus snapped his head towards him, appalled. "No," he argued softly. "Let him sleep."
"He's covered in energon," Megatron pointed out.
"I've found you in worse states," Optimus rumbled, fishing out a cleaning cloth and carefully wiping the sticky residue from Starscream's limp fingers.
Seeing as there'd be no chance he was winning this disagreement since he was up against Prime's boundless compassion, Megatron relented, setting the bowl aside and leaving to fetch a blanket and pillow from the berth room. He handed the pillow to Optimus, who carefully worked it under Starscream's snoring head. He stifled a noise of amusement when Optimus shifting Starscream caused the seeker to snort unattractively between snores.
"We should record him recharging," Megatron suggested, shaking out the blanket and unceremoniously flinging it at Starscream body so it covered him head to foot. Optimus moved to rectify the situation, adjusting it so it covered him properly. "It would certainly knock him down a peg."
"He doesn't need knocking down any pegs," Optimus said with a hint of warning, tucking the blanket in around Starscream's wings. "And if you record him snoring, I'll send Skywarp that footage of you falling down the senate steps."
Megatron straightened, "You said you deleted that footage."
"I lied," Optimus said without remorse.
It was about to turn into an argument - when Starscream decided to shuffle in his sleep, hands closing around the blanket and pulling it up to his neck. A foot appeared and a wing popped out as he wrinkled it.
It was infuriatingly endearing. Megatron felt angry with how charming and at peace the seeker looked and what emotions such a sight wanted to inspire in him.
But it was utterly ruined the next moment when Starscream's smirk widened and he whispered huskily in his sleep - "Oh Megatron~ you make such a good footstool..."
There was a lengthy pause as both he and Optimus stared at Starscream squirming happily beneath the blanket, practically purring at the made-up events of his dreams.
Optimus broke the silence first, clearing his vocaliser with an awkward huff. "I'm sure that was taken out of context."
"Out of context, my aft," Megatron's optic twitched. "I'm waking him up."