Chapter Text
Warm. Everything felt warm, as if it were back then when they had been young miners under service of the Senate—when they were Orion Pax and D-16. Back then, as lowly, good-for-nothing miners, they had only each other. They didn’t care about status, about rank, about worth—they only had each other, and that fact alone mattered more than anything else in the universe.
After all the vorns, after the war, after their paths had clashed and claimed they were nothing but enemies—after it had seemed that they would never reconnect—they had proven themselves wrong. Especially themselves. It had seemed as if they had been split in two, fated for one to rise while the other fell.
They had fallen as Orion Pax and D-16. They had risen as Optimus Prime and Megatron. Yet, beneath those new names, beneath the weight of their new identities, their old selves still lingered, waiting to rise again.
It had been a month since Optimus had truly given his trust to Megatron, and Megatron had proven his loyalty to him and the Autobots. Now, he felt marked as an Autobot. Today, everything was calm. They felt earned.
Megatron remembered the night he had his pede crushed the Decepticon communicator—the one meant to coordinate his ambush plan for Optimus and the Autobots. That moment had freed him. The ghost of Warlord Megatron faded from him, and he wished, truly, never to see that Megatron again. He wanted no part of that past, no return to betrayal, no reclamation of blood and conquest. Since crushing the communicator, he had vowed never to go back—and he had kept that vow.
He had been the traitor Prime in another life of himself: showing crimes that were the definition of betrayal and deception.
Like the Prime one who slaughtered the Primes, manipulated Cybertron, aided the Quintessons. Sentinel had forced him into harm, into the role of Megatron, marking Orion as Optimus Prime. The crimes of that life weighed upon him, but now, in the present, he sought redemption.
Perhaps, deep beneath the unbreakable logic spark, he had never truly let go of Orion.
Perhaps he had spoken the words of release—but even as Megatron, he had not finished saving him.
Now, he was here. As an Autobot. As someone who wanted to right the wrongs of his past. Secretly, quietly, he hoped that in saving himself, he might even save his Decepticons. Perhaps, through belief in miracles, the same chance for change could extend to them.
Megatron had never been meant to care, never meant to show worry or sympathy. Yet now, in the safety of this new life, he felt it—he felt concern for those he had led, those he had loved in his own way, in secret. His regrets would always haunt him, but with Optimus—the one spark that had endured through everything—he could let them fade, if only for a moment.
And it felt so good.
In the mountains, in one of Megatron’s secret places, they lay together on the grass. Warm leafy blades pressed beneath their frames. The sky stretched endlessly above, clouds drifting lazily. They were close, and it felt perfect.
Optimus hummed softly, smiling. Megatron returned a small, rare smile, their servos brushing together, holding close. The sun shone warmly, its heat mingling with the warmth of their plates.
Optimus turned his helm toward him, seeing his optics dimmed, his vents slower than usual, and his body relaxed in a way that made everything feel simple, safe. He leaned close, resting his palm against Megatron’s cheek, his servo settling gently on his chestplate.
Megatron purred softly. He smiled, stroking his chestplate. He could feel the heat radiating through Megatron’s spark, the vibration of his engines, the gentle weight of his presence.
He pressed his helm to Megatron's chestplate, purring as the Prime rested against him. Optimus sighed, feeling the vibration deepen, and smiled wider as a clawed servo stroked his helm. He lifted his helm, meeting Megatron’s activated optics, now glowing softly in the sunlight.
He traced Megatron’s face with one servo, lifting the other to his waist. Optimus leaned closer, and Megatron surrendered to the warmth, to the heat, to the passion of the moment. Their lips met, and the kiss carried the weight of years, of wars, of mistakes, of forgiveness, of sparks intertwined.
They purred deeply, melting into each other—their presences and the kiss blending together as heat surged through them, flowing through their systems.
Optimus slowly pulled back, and Megatron purred softly. His glossa brushed over his lips as he licked them, purring in bliss. His cheeks shifted in color as he smiled at his former rival.
He stroked Optimus’ cheek and helm, and Optimus felt the tender strength of his touch.
“You are so beautiful.”
Optimus smiled, melting into him as he pressed his servo gently against Megatron’s. “So are you. You always have.”
Megatron offlined his optics and ex-vented a quiet sigh. “I don't feel beautiful.”
He leaned closer. “Well, to me you do. And you always have, despite everything that happened.”
Megatron stared at him and ex-vented another sigh. Optimus only watched him quietly before leaning forward and kissing his forehelm. He melted into the kiss.
“After all I had done to you...and to us…I feel like you should have no wish to be like this with me. To see me as D-16…who I was back then.”
“Perhaps,” Optimus murmured softly. “Maybe after all you have done, after all the battles we fought and the painful memories… yes. But still, I just couldn't let you go.”
He looked up at him.
Optimus offlined his optics and rested his forehelm against his. “I just couldn't let you go.”
Megatron wrapped his arms around his waist, and a soft chuckle escaped his engine—one filled with quiet pride. “For the times we battled each other…you have shown signs that you have grown up, Orion. You fought me and my Decepticons with no hesitation and no weakness. You stood your ground and fought against all odds. You have grown up, Orion.” His voice carried a deep, powerful pride. “You never showed weakness—only determination and strength. You have grown…even for me to see. And having you as an honorable component…”
He paused, his voice still rich with pride.
“And even I learned the fact that you don't need me anymore. For me to see that you never did.”
Optimus suddenly burst out. “Not true! Never true! I always needed you. Despite everything, I always needed you. I always held onto the hope that somehow you would come back to me…and now I see clearly that you have.”
His voice softened.
“And I have no regrets. Besides…you should already know that you can't get rid of me that easily.”
Megatron nuzzled against him and scoffed a quiet chuckle. “Hmph. True that.”
Optimus smirked, and they shared another kiss. He then grinned at him.
Megatron narrowed his optics slightly. “What?”
“Remember how we used to dance together?” Optimus grinned, tracing a digit slowly across his chest.
His grin widened when he saw Megatron’s cheeks shifting in color again. “Uh...no?”
Optimus smirked, his voice carried a playful, sing-song teasing tone. “You are blushing, Megatron.”
Megatron growled softly. “I don't know what you are talking about. And as I told Bumblebee for the hundred thousandth time—and Arcee as well—I don't blush.”
Optimus chuckled as he slowly stood, holding Megatron’s servo and guiding him to his feet.
Megatron paused when he felt his chest press against Optimus’ glass-plated chest.
Their forehelms hovered close, and he felt Optimus’ arm settle around his waist.
He traced his optics from Optimus’ arm to his optics. Then he turned his helm away slightly. “I forgot how to do it. It's been so long. I forced myself to bury all those memories of us…and I forgot some of them. Perhaps all of them.”
Optimus leaned closer. “Well, I still have them close…just as I have you close.” His voice softened. “And I can teach you again. I can help you remember.”
Megatron purred softly. He gave a small gasp when Optimus gently tugged him closer.
Optimus smiled warmly as he rested one arm over Megatron’s shoulder pad.
A strong flare of heat surged through Megatron’s systems as he stared at him.
Optimus took his other servo.
And then they began.
Optimus slowly spun them around, guiding the motion as Megatron followed. The cliffside stretched behind them, the forest rolling far below, and the vast land breathed with life beneath the sunlight.
Megatron watched him as they turned together slowly. Then he gasped when Optimus gently twirled him, guiding him around before pulling him back so they faced each other again. He chuckled softly and then he tugged his turn.
Optimus giggled when Megatron slid his arm slowly around his waist. His digits brushed gently against the wires along his side, teasing a ticklish sensation from him.
Megatron chuckled and took the lead.
He was right. Since the day Orion had fallen and Optimus Prime had risen—since the day they became enemies—Megatron had forced those memories deep into the bottomless pit of his mind. But now they were rising again.
Megatron held Optimus’ servo as the other rested at his waist. Their pedes clunked lightly together as they moved. He chuckled when Optimus gave a shy giggle after accidentally stepping on his pede. He immediately stepped on his in return.
They had no music around them.
Only the whisper of the wind.
Only the distant roaring of the waterfall.
But they didn't care.
They didn’t need music.
And they both silently hoped that the sneaking Autobots were not watching.
Primus…if they saw this…if they witnessed this moment…they would never hear the end of it and they would have to hide forever.
But they didn’t care about that—or anything else. They were simply enjoying the moment.
Optimus chuckled as he pulled away, and Megatron chuckled as well, allowing him to spin him around again. He gently pulled him close, and soon Megatron felt his chest press against his. Their sparks aligned through their chestplates, humming warmly against one another.
Megatron felt Optimus guide him into a slow twirl, and the former Decepticon warlord found himself staring up into the Autobot’s bright optics as Optimus held him close.
They stayed like that for a klik, frozen perfectly in place like statues. Their sparks hammered with vibrant life, and neither of them wished to break the moment.
Neither wished to move.
Neither wished to leave.
They remained there, caught in a quiet spell of closeness—one that had once been broken long ago by war, pride, and fate.
Megatron stared at him with wide optics, transfixed by the gleaming glow of Optimus’ sensor eyes and the warmth of his smile. He turned his helm away slightly.
Optimus chuckled softly at the familiar denial. “You still got the moves, Dee.”
Megatron looked back at him and allowed a small smile to appear. “This was…very…nice, Pax.”
They shared lazy smiles, but the warmth behind them was genuine and deep. Optimus leaned forward and gave him another kiss. Megatron chuckled softly, purring as Optimus smiled wider. Their forehelms touched and pressed together, optics dimming as their sparks seemed to float higher with the quiet joy of the moment.
They chuckled softly together as they remained there, unmoving, almost statue-like in their closeness. Neither wanted to move. Neither wanted to break it.
They had done this many times when they were Orion Pax and D-16.
And now those memories returned.
Megatron suddenly grinned. “I was the one holding you while you were in this position.”
Optimus grinned right back. “Means I still have the moves after all.”
“Not even close,” Megatron replied with a smug tone. “And I taught you those moves.”
Optimus laughed teasingly and kissed his helm. “And I learned how to charm you even more.”
He chuckled again as Optimus gently lifted him slightly, their frames still pressed close together. Their engines rumbled into soft purrs.
“Hear how quiet it is?” Optimus asked softly. “Hear how peaceful it is…like it was when it was just you and me? No one around to bother us. No one to disturb us.” His voice softened. “Just you and me.”
Megatron offlined his optics with a faint smile as his purr deepened.
They remained in their embrace, close—so close that it reminded them of the past in ways neither expected.
Then Megatron onlined his optics.
And froze.
Froze staring ahead.
From the shadows beyond the trees…he saw them.
A pair of optics.
Red optics.
Watching.
Locked and ready.
They were aimed directly at him—and at the mech he had once called friend, enemy...and now something far more.
Megatron’s frame stayed still against Optimus, but his gaze fixed on the darkness between the trees. The presence in the shadows remained motionless, watching and waiting.
Megatron stared at the source of those crimson optics and then glanced at Optimus.
Slowly—very slowly—he shook his helm in a stiff, subtle motion, almost pleading.
Optimus only chuckled softly, unaware of the silent threat stalking them.
Megatron looked back to the shadows again.
The watcher stepped backward, melting deeper into the darkness.
But Megatron could still feel it there.
Waiting.
Waiting for the moment to strike.
“I love you, Megatron.”
Megatron ex-vented a quiet sigh and allowed a small smile. “I…love you too.”
Optimus onlined his optics. “Megatron…you alright?”
“I am fine. Just fine.” Megatron held him a little tighter. “Just let me hold you a little longer.”
His optics darkened slightly as he kept staring past Optimus into the shadows.
Optimus did exactly as he asked.