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“And how much do you trust me?” Megatronus whispered, his ex-vents heavy against the heated metal of Orion’s cheek plate. The young archivist inhaled a deep sigh that trembled at the resonance of those vocals.
“Give your spark to me, Orion Pax,” the gladiator groaned through clenched denta. “You must trust me.”
Orion Pax was always too trusting. Too eager to please. Megatronus knew this.
The archivist writhed at the sensation of large digits coursing up his abdomen. The servo glided over the scorching silver plating until it grasped the crimson armor upon the librarian’s chassis. With half-lidded optics, Megatronus silently pleaded for entrance to Orion’s spark chamber.
The young clerk hesitated, searching through his processor that swelled with a clouding arousal and desire for a sense of reality. His thoughts were plagued with doubt and fear as his lips trembled, unable to speak.
How much do you trust me?
Orion knew his answer, even if his cruelly practical mind denied him of it. Despite himself, Orion dismissed those thoughts. His dimmed azure optics flashed in a jaded approval as he slowly allowed his chassis to transform. His spark, spiraling with white and cerulean licks of energy, pounded as it anticipated the company of its mate.
Had Orion Pax been capable of any reasonable decision, he would have denied Megatronus this bond.
However, the archivist’s spark knew what it want.
Their fate had already been decided.
Orion zeroed in on the gladiator's optics as they hovered above him. "I trust you," he breathed the three words with such passion, as if they were his last.
Megatronus revealed his own spark, and the soft, circling azure cycles of energy felt heavy as the librarian's words echoed through his processor. The varying shades of azure mixed in a haze of raw emotions. Their optics met once more, and their lips then hastily collided.
Orion knew that the bond would be painful just as well as Megatronus did. A spark bond began with the tearing apart of one’s own vessel in order to attach itself to another, and finally to tear itself back into it's own new, combined whole. However, there would be pleasure among the pain. The process was slow. The consequences upon which their processors twinged gradually began to unsheathe as the reality of this forsaken bond crawled and their sparks began to unite.
It was intense. The atmosphere was overwhelmed with moans and silent whispers.
Neither spoke a word. Instead, their sparks spoke for them.
I take you, all of you, as you are.
At first, their fields would online and press against one another. They would strife before they could achieve eternal synthesis. Pain before the pleasure- before the burning sensible realization of remorse creeps in.
Here, I embrace you, for I need you from this moment until we should perish from this living state.
Orion reached his servos around Megatronus to pull him close- to feel his entire being.
We are one.
He pressed his quivering lips against the side of the gladiator’s silver helm. His thin lip components parted gently, passionately, although no physical words escaped them. His spark stole his words and processed them into the bond with an unyielding force.
I trust you, brother. I trust you with all of my spark.
A grimace etched its way into the deepest crevices of Megatronus's faceplates. He ignored the disturbing sense of remorse that raced up his spinal strut and plagued the ounces of pleasure he endured. He knew well why he chose to do this. It was inspired neither by lust nor love. The gladiator knew that Orion Pax's cunning sense of right and wrong would rise to the surface once an official means of war was to be waged. Megatronus knew he needed to keep the skillful archivist by his side.
It was almost entirely tactical- almost.
There was still a sentimentality beyond Megatronus's own self-perception that was terribly bothersome to the gladiator. He admired Orion Pax in ways he had never expected. Orion Pax, although meager and seemingly naïve, more often than not, had Megatronus by the throat.
Megatronus cleared his mind, moving his frame against the librarian’s in a powerful thrust to allow himself deeper access into that pure, untainted spark. He longed to spare himself the sentiments of the bond. Unfortunately, Megatronus felt unsteady as he watched Orion give his all to him.
I trust you.
The gladiator held the archivist closer now, without noticing before, in a warm lovers' embrace. His helm now craned into the hook of Orion’s neck cables. His mouth attached to the sensitive cables and bit into them, almost hard enough to draw energon. Orion could only groan loudly, very unappreciative of the added pain, although he accepted it as gentle kisses replaced the hard bite marks that he was certain would bruise and scar. His helm pressed into the back of the berth with such a intense force as his frame buzzed with hot, built-up energy.
Until we peacefully divide upon our entrances to the All-Spark and meet once more.
It was almost complete.
As their optics met in a haze of azure shades, they both knew it.
Their bodies lay exposed and discharged with such raw power. It was far different- far more intimate- than any interface could ever be. It was the true synthesis of two Cybertronians. Megatronus gazed upon his Orion Pax, his spark aching with a foreign sense of growing despair. Orion felt it as well, although his optics would never show it.
And we are one.