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Megatron can’t exactly place it. All he knows is that when he first laid his optics upon him—tall and timid—something within his spark blossomed like the crystal flowers that started to unfurl outside the estate.
Megatron was unconventional, at least, that’s what those around him deemed him as. The gossip had always plagued his audials since he was a sparkling. Whispers of an adopted sparkling from the south, of Kaon no less, being taken in by Megatronus himself seemed absurd. And while Megatronus was many things, compassionate was not one of them, often chiding Megatron and bringing him up with what he dubbed ‘tough love’ which was more like thinly veiled abuse. Megatron never let it rub off on him, however. The words of his late Carrier always echoed within him whenever the cycles became too much to bear.
He remembered very little of her, only small glimpses but he did his best to piece them together like a fuzzy, distorted puzzle.
So when Megatronus died and Megatron became head of the estate, the gossip seemed to flow more freely and, subsequently, brought on damning rumors. Megatron’s temper didn’t agree with them. Most of the talk were petty sneers and comments not-so-subtly directed his way, something Megatron didn’t pay attention to.
But when the prospect of marriage came around, that seemed to be his breaking point.
He remembered the cycle when Soundwave came into his study, isolated and away from the winding and dizzying halls of the estate.
“They talk.” Soundwave said plainly, standing stiffly by the door.
Megatron rolled his optics, setting down the datapad he was once engrossed in. He patted the plush seat adjacent from his own, gesturing for Soundwave to come closer, to sit down and relax. “I’m well aware.”
Soundwave stood silently for a few kliks before walking over and settling himself into the plush seat. Megatron tried to hide his amused smirk as he saw his closest advisor visibly melt into the cushion.
“I wished to not bring this to your attention so suddenly, but, it’s crucial.” Soundwave hummed, thrumming his digits across the arm rest of the chair.
Megatron raised an optical ridge.
Silence.
Soundwave spoke again.
“They demand an heir. From what I gather, they demand you marry at once.”
Megatron sighed, a little more dramatically than he intended to. He wasn’t surprised, but it was still frustrating. Deep down, the rumors and gossip had been getting to him. And at this point, he was ready to give in, to appease the masses.
Everything after that was hazy. Soundwave’s words seemed to fizzy out in his mind.
It was how Megatron’s optics landed on Optimus in a quaint archive on a quiet street of Upper Iacon.
Megatron didn’t believe in love at first sight… at least he used not to.
That was how Megatron ended up where he stood now, back in his study, Soundwave across from him and a strange sense of Deja vu washing over him.
“Wedding preparations must start at once. Everything needs to be perfect.” he huffed.
Soundwave only stared back at him.
Megatron paced back and forth, mind racing as he deduced what would be the next step.
Soundwave let out a sigh but didn’t press or question any further.
Optimus’s face seemed to be burned into his memory, sweet cerulean optics and twitchy finials melted his spark. Megatron felt out of balance with these newfound feelings. Soundwave’s unimpressed, and quite frankly, disbelief didn’t go unnoticed—but Megatron knew it was all genuine. He felt it for Primus sake.
While the study was something he inherited from his Sire, Megatron was grateful—especially now as he furiously flipped through a dusted over datapad on courting rituals. It was silly, really it was. Megatron wasn’t one to impress easily but something about that archivist… the distant melancholy in his optics, the way his digits worked with elegant diligence, it was fascinating and intoxicating.
He sighed, spark hammering against his chest plate.
He hoped this would go smoothly.
For the both of them.
*
Optimus felt… odd. He couldn’t quite pin point it, but the air buzzed which caught him off guard. Though, perhaps, it could be because of the large petro-bunny plush addressed to him that stood in the doorway of his office.
He should be appalled, afraid, maybe even aghast. But, he was flustered. Optimus didn’t see himself as anything remarkable so to get something so lovely and soft melted his spark immediately.
Luckily, despite its size it was quite light, letting Optimus pull it into his office with no hassle, wanting to avoid any unwanted gazes his coworkers may give him.
Optimus sighed dreamily but brushed it off as a one time thing.
Only… it wasn’t.
The gifts kept coming in, every deca cycle there was some type of lavish gift waiting for him right outside his office door. He was impressed. They all ranged from freshly picked crystal fruits, to charms and jewelry, to even handwritten poems, lovingly crafted. Optimus was dizzy, feeling his systems go haywire at the sudden attention.
He—somehow—managed to drag everything into his little apartment across the city, stacking everything neatly in his berthroom.
Every night cycle he laid down to recharge, his spark warmed happily in his chest. He tried not to let it get to his head, perhaps this ‘secret admirer’ would remain secret.
But Optimus longed for company.
Still, as he closed his optics, systems powering down, he let himself be taken away in his dreams.
*
Megatron felt ready. Well, as ready as he’d ever be. Soundwave’s long digits finished polishing his frame, gunmetal gray plating shining in the artificial light of the estate. Megatron was supposed to be a beacon, a symbol. Now here he stood, like a cyber pup cowering with his tail between his legs.
He could tell Soundwave was in a good mood with the way he patted his chest, rubbing the last of the wax from his chassis with a mesh cloth.
“And you’re sure?”
Megatron chuckled. “I can’t go back now, can I?” he teased.
The first steps of courting were always the easy part… but Megatron truly felt small in the world, to face Optimus head on.
The archive seemed smaller than the first time he stumbled upon it, small mechs walking in and out, datapads stacked high in their servos. All optics landed on him but it was easy for Megatron to brush them off, used to the attention. But the moment his gaze fell upon Optimus, blue optics trained on the display in front of him, the world seemed to stop.
His lovely archivist. His bride. His wife.
He reset his vocalizer, trying to get rid of the excess static that started to build up.
Optimus seemed to notice his presence, looking up and giving the mech a gentle smile, welcoming him.
“Can I help you?”
All Megatron could think of was the white lace of the drapes in the wedding hall and the distant sound of church bells.
Patience was key. He would not force him into anything he would not want. Even if it would break his poor spark.
His infatuation felt like a silk ribbon, tied neatly around his spark, slowly but steadily pulling, growing tighter. Some referred to him as ‘masochistic’, and this time he’d agree with them with how he embraced the ribbon, using his digits to tighten it himself.
“May I have your name?” was all he managed to choke out, systems going haywire.
Optimus blinked but kept his inviting smile. “Optimus. And you must be Megatron.” he chuckled, bowing his head slightly in respect.
Megatron had to push down the urge to tilt his chin up himself, undeserving of his flattery.
Megatron was never a fan of small talk… but the subtle words passed between them felt like a little slice of heaven. And Megatron only craved more.
He reached out, gently taking Optimus’ servo in his, vents hitching by the way his own dwarfed the mechs. The blue that tinted Optimus’ cheeks didn’t go unnoticed either. He must’ve been doing something right, at least.
“Would you,” Megatron sighed lowly. “Would you accompany me out today?” his voice was soft.
Optimus blinked, blue optics cycling, before a most wonderful smile appeared on his face.
“I would love to.”
Megatron didn’t anticipate making it this far; Optimus on his arm. He was surprised Optimus let his field curl around his own, he didn’t look the part.
Time seemed to slip away from him. Had it been deca cycles? Stellar cycles? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was he was enjoying his time.
He felt ready.
He hoped Optimus felt the same way.
*
The waves of the Rust Sea were hypnotic, pulling Megatron in and making him dizzy. The courtship was… confusing, to say the least. The gleam of sadness that swam along inside Optimus’ optics troubled him, deepening the pit that started to form in his tank.
His touches were scarce; hesitant. Like he was scared.
The sand brushed against his pedes as soft steps approached.
Optimus smiled—sad and sweet, causing Megatron’s own spark to stutter.
Now… how was he supposed to push the question?
Something swam within Optimus’ optics the more Megatron looked closely, something familiar.
The red and blue mech ducked his head slightly, trying and failing to keep his field close to him. Megatron tensed at what he managed to feel. Hurt, uncertainty, fear.
“Optimus-“
“If… if you are here to call things off, I would like you to do so quickly.”
What?
He tried to get another word out, but Optimus kept going.
“You have been so kind—too kind—and, and, I am afraid…” Optimus shook his head, stepping backwards ever so lightly. The waves crashing against the shore filled the taut silence around them.
Megatron’s heart broke and softened all at once.
He stepped closer, tangling his digits in between Optimus’ own, peering down at the mech. He sighed.
“Optimus, my dear. Look at me… please?” his voice was soft, inviting.
Hesitantly, blue optics met his own crimsons. All previous worries washed away with the ocean beside them.
“What I feel for you is true. This may be a little fast but you have bewitched me, truly. Unfortunately, I’ve come to find I’m not very good at this.” he chuckled, grinning at Optimus’ giggle between his sniffles.
“Please don’t be afraid. I…”
He stepped back slightly and promptly dropped to one knee, ignoring the way his joints hissed and creaked. He brought out a small box, opening it to reveal a ring, its diamond blue and delicately crafted into the shape of a crystal flower he saw Optimus glance at a while ago.
“Forgive me. I would like to make you mine… but only if you want the same.” he whispered, voice wavering with anxiety.
The air became taut again.
Until…
Optimus gently guided Megatron to stand and held out his servo, watching as the gray mech slid the ring on to his finger. Megatron couldn’t get a word out as Optimus practically leaped into his arms with a suffocating but very welcome kiss.
When Optimus pulled back, there was a gleam in his optics; a sort of sparkle.
“You’ll be happy to know preparations are finished.” Megatron hummed.
Optimus chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I take it you arranged things before your gaze even left my frame?”
Megatron flushed but couldn’t help the smirk that curled on his lips.
“Would you be upset if I said yes?”
Optimus rested his head on the gray mech’s shoulder, sighing as he felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and pull him close, talons tapping at his hip rhythmically.
“Not at all.”