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The peace talks had been over for a while, almost an entire vorn!, that was hard to believe in and of itself. At times Optimus woke up to stare at his purple ceiling and thought he was in a cell.
Kind of ridiculous really since he had never been in a cell on the Nemesis, or on any other Decepticon built ship or in one of their buildings. And his berth was decidedly too nice to be in any kind of cell.
They had just found the Allspark and refused to hand it over to the Decepticons when the flagship of the fleet arrived and they were confronted by Megatron himself.
Initially it seemed they would be attacked and torn apart, and they had prepared for that. Refusing to hand over the Allspark to the monsters they had all grown up learning to fear... ah, well, all but Ratchet and Prowl. They were old enough to remember some of the war itself after all.
Then Megatron had ordered his troops to stand down, staring at Optimus. He had just stepped into the Orion's hangar. He was staring as if he had seen someone long dead.
Optimus had never gotten the answer to any questions on why, and it still annoyed him a little bit. You had to pick your battles though and he had given up on winning that particular one.
Still, the Decepticons had directly, without the knowledge of the crew of the Orion, contacted Cybertron. They 'd informed them that they could blow up the Orion, and retrieve the Allspark from the wreakeage, or there could be peace talks.
Cybertron had responded wanting a treaty. Optimus was not entirely clear on how this turn about had happened. He was not inclined to ask too much about it, not then and not now. Peace was far preferable to war.
That was how his crew and he had gone from repairmechs to ambassadors. Apparently Megatron had demanded that they'd be the ones to do the peace talks, well, them and Ultra Magnus.
The Steelhaven had arrived only a few orn later, and even that ship -the pride of Cybertron- was dwarfed by the Nemesis. Ultra Magnus had been very tense, and had seemed unhappy with Optimus and his crew, though what they had done to make him unhappy was unclear. Finding the Allspark perhaps? It was not like they could help that!
Less than a groon later Orion was nestled in a hangar on the Nemesis and his crew and him were deeply embroiled in everything about the peace talks.
There was no disguising that it had been a grueling three vorn of work. Wanting a treaty or not, Cybertron's council had done everything they could to keep the Decepticons off their home world. It did not seem to occur to them that the Decepticons really just wanted to be able to visit until almost two vorn into the negotiations. Then they were so confused by that that the talks stalled for almost two groon.
But the biggest issues were the cultural differences and a lack of knowledge. The anger and fear on the side of Cybertrons council had seemed like callous indifference and cruelty to the Decepticons...
Only a few groon in, Megatron had gotten up from the negotiation table, had pointed at Optimus and pretty much ordered him to follow him. It could all have ended there, and if he had refused the war probably would have been back on, but he did not refuse.
The Warlord had taken him to the Nemesis library, where he had seen many an off duty Decepticon studying, or just enjoying reading, to his great surprise. Megatron had, almost bodily, ordered him to a seat and had dissapeared to fetch a tower of datapads and a portable reader.
The talks had been paused for half a vorn while he got educated on all the things the Autobots had conveniently not told their younglings of the Great War. The Decepticons had kept knowledge and news from both sides of the War, not just their own. Megatron had a thing for brutal honesty when it came to history.
Optimus had found himself grateful for that, and honestly horrified by much of it. He had shared all of it with his crew... and even Ratchet changed his attitude, reluctantly and painfully.
It helped that a mech showed up, almost bowling the old Medic over in his eagerness to see him alive. Those two were... a thing very fast after that. And that was how they moved off the Orion and into quarters on the Nemesis. Deadlock didn't fit so well on their ship, even if he wasn't the biggest of 'Cons.
The weirdest part was Megatron's interest in him though. Inviting him to fuel, study, and even just to gaze at stars with him.
To find that they had a lot in common, that they could argue, play games, and spar. It almost felt like having a relationship again, though Optimus very carefully kept that thought in a little imaginary box.
His last relationship had ended spectacularly badly and he was pretty sure that Megatron had a lover, or several. Maybe even a conjux. He often mentioned two mechs, Soundwave and Shockwave, so... yeah.
Still he never refused the Warlord company, he liked him, and at least he could have a friend! Someone who saw him, encouraged him, and cared about him.
Platonically!
This time though... it felt a bit intimate. Megatron had invited him to his quarters after they met up in the library for a conversation about poetry. He still wasn't sure he liked it all that much. But he did like to go with the Warlord for a drink and a more general conversation after. That was not the plan that Megatron had this orn though.
"So you... want me to..." he paused, looking at everything on the table, jewelry, fabric, and cans of paint? "try it out for your future conjux" ?
"Well, I would like to be sure it fits," the deep voice sounded wistful and that was why he chose stupidly. They were friends, it was a request from a friend... someone who might have waited a long time for his Conjux Ritus because of the war and all. These things were for a civilian build, had to be since he was asking him to...
"Okay, yeah, I can do that for you..."
"Thank you, Optimus," Megatron gestured at the couch and Optimus hopped up to perch on it as he had long since gotten used to. Furniture in Civilian frame sizes had only started materializing in public places on the Nemesis about a vorn after they had moved in. None had materialized in the Warlord's quarters, as of yet. Not that he minded, he actually kind of liked the bigger furniture when it came to casual, relaxed settings.
Having the huge warframe kneel before him was less the usual thing. Megatron just did not kneel! it seemed wrong! Even the few times he had done it in sparring to check if he had caused an injury to Optimus had seemed awkward and sort of wrong. Even if it was also nice that he would do so…
A strong black hand gripped his chin and the other held up a thing that it took Optimus a moment to identify, "where did you even get a derma chalk?" he mumbled low, then focused back on the other's face plates, "I am confused... why would you want to test consort attire?" he was hoping to be told a little of this mysterious conjux-to-be, who had to be a civilian build, and that no one had ever mentioned anything about, by asking again.
Could it really be that no Decepticon knew that their Warlord had an absent lover? One so serious that Megatron would use the peace treaty to finally claim him, or her, as Conjux? It was a bit weird that they, he and this unknown bot, apparently had a very similar frame type. Not impossible, he supposed…
A grin greeted the question but Optimus did not see it as he tried to see what the other was doing with the chalk and only managed to go a bit cross opticked.
"And why wouldn't it be fitted for a Decepti~omf," Megatron had, gently, squeezed his faceplates so his derma pucked up. The Warlord stared at them intensely for a moment and Optimus felt his fans attempt to pick up their pace. He squashed that line of coding ruthlessly.
So much for fishing for answers he guessed, clearly Megatron did not want to answer any questions about his mysterious beloved. The big mech let go after applying the chalk and turned to take one of the open boxes from the table, containing a delicate looking set of plates and chains with small purple teardrop jewels.
"Hmm..." the Warlord hummed as he carefully placed the delicate golden jewelry on his audial covers. His control was scary, and hot, those claws should not be able to be so gentle! Another chain was taken out and Megatron rumbled softly, "bow your head now, little Autobot," holding it delicately, just slightly tangled up in his clawed fingers.
Optimus took just a bit of revenge for the squishing, flicking his finials back teasingly.
A deep laugh sounded, and he kind of wish he hadn't done it even as Megatron rumbled, "Always a dance with you..."
He let him put on the chains before nervously chuckling and speaking up to end the awkwardness he felt, as Megatron picked up a can of paint and a fine brush, "I have never had faceplatepaint on before. Is this something that is popular among Decepticons?"
"Hmm, for some yes. The Conjuxes of Gladiators. It showed whom the mech was bound to, based on the specific markings. And they served as a warning for others to stay away," Optimus had to force himself not to shiver, or whimper, as that deep rumble seemed to tease his entire spinal array... and another array that he best not think too hard about!
Usually they were not this close, it was strange and hard. He wanted it so much, but this was not for him… and given what they were doing, it would never be for him. Well, it was not the warlord's fault that he had gone and been stupid. Again.
Megatron put away the paint and brush, and picked up another chain piece, this one adorned with little gold plates, and carefully pressed one plate to the edge of one of his audial covers.
"I... Isn't this a little too much...?" Optimus asked, barely refraining from biting his derma plates when a small plate was pressed to the top of his olfactory sensor plate, right up to the edge of his helmet plating and another piece to the other audial plate edge. The chains were dangling down his cheek plating, over the painted markings.
"I assure you it is not," Megatron rumbled, his optics, okay the entirety of his facial plates!, far too close for comfort for a second, "this is in point of fact not at all enough for my conjux to be."
He urged Optimus to stand up and turned him so he had his back to the -still on his knee joints- warlord. The mech put a thin golden plate around his neck collar armor. Not a collar he angrily told his libido, it was not around his throat! It was just accenting, it might as well have been painted on. No kinks needed to rear their little helms!
"Uh..." another set of chains was moved over his helm, held in front of him long enough that he could see the large purple jewel that was the center piece glitter in the light. It was carved in the shape of the Decepticon symbol... would it be carved fully when seen from the front?
"And you just had this stuff... lying around?" Optimus asked out of pure desperation as the beautiful piece was fastened, slowly and methodically to his shoulder pauldrons, and then it was connected to the plates on his collar armor.
"Not exactly. But they have been in my possession for some time now," Megatron hummed, seeming more interested in adjusting the fit and drape of the chains, than in the conversation.
"Sorry, but they just seem a little small for you...," Optimus answered lamely, trying to not seem to be fishing but not knowing what else to say either. He was still kind of fishing after all…
"Oh yes, but they were never made for me, I have my own set," Optimus guiltily fingered the chain that hung down from the lowest point of the jewel. Another two jewels was added under the carved one right at the lower corners of his lights, round and smooth, connected by a sash of purple mesh that went around and was attached to his back, he could not see with what but felt that it was rather big and had a heft to it.
"Aren't you getting a little carried away with this, Megatron?" he asked nervously when the mech held a belt of gold plates out in front of him, it was not unlike the one around his neck collar.
"I am simply making sure everything sits well," the warlord said as he fastened the belt in place and then began attaching sheer looking purple mesh fabric to it, "I want my future conjux to look perfect and feel comfortable. So, what do you think, little Prime?" he continued ensuring the sheer fabric draped properly, making Optimus feel extremely flustered at having him so close to his panel and aft.
"Fine, I guess..." he managed. More like 'envious I guess' but Optimus was not going to admit that, even to himself!
"Just fine?" there was laughter in the warlord's tone. Optimus' finials flicked with irritation and embarrassment, the chains tingling softly.
"It's very sparkly and over the top! Not really my style. Let's just get it over with, I don't want to accidentally destroy your future conjux's jewelry!" he snapped, finials going back further as he realized he'd overreacted very badly.
Megatron did not seem to care at all, instead chuckling softly, "oh believe me, it's more durable than that! After all, it was made for a Warframe's spouse."
Lucky mech, Optimus barely managed to think before he was bodily picked up!
"Whoa~h-h-hey now, wh~," he put a hand on a powerful scarred wrist guard and barely managed to keep the other off Megatron.
"Is something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" a bit of worry snug into the velvety deep tones and Optimus hurried to answer.
"No... just try to be careful with your claws," it fell a little flat, but he was preoccupied with keeping his fans offline.
Another warm chuckle, so unfair that even that sounded... attractive! …just attractive, "Don't worry little Autobot. I know how to be careful, and how to control myself," Primus, did he ever! Optimus was far too aware of that what with all the sparring sessions they had shared.
Megatron set him on the table edge, still on his knee joints in front of him, and took the tin of paint he had used on his facial plates again. With a careful grip on his legs he started painting the front of his thighs, a little too close to his panel at first! But Optimus manage to keep quiet.
Barely…
"I'm impressed...You are quite the artist," he said when his first leg was apparently done and Megatron had started on the other. He had mostly waited to be sure he was not going to make any inappropriate sounds.
"Surprised?" Megatron glanced up at him, "I have many talents and this requires more of a gentle touch."
It did at that, Optimus thought wistfully.
"I know this is all pretend, but I have to admit, it feels nice to be pampered like this," he huffed softly.
"Only the best for my future conjux," Megatron murmured, seemingly engrossed in his painting.
"Lucky bot," Optimus couldn't help smiling as he looked at the brush tracing the design on his thigh as he said it. It just… was so easy to imagine being that lucky right this moment!
"Lucky?" Megatron didn't pause his painting, and Optimus thought that it was fair enough to answer even if it made him a little uncomfortable to skirt so close to the truth.
"Yes, lucky… being someone's focus like this…" 'being loved like this', but he did not voice that part. Truthfully he'd have settled for being desired for just a bit of fun and distraction. He'd tried loving someone… someones. It had gone so badly, and even now he was not sure if it was worth it to try again.
"Oh, so you like it?" Megatron put the paint away and took the last box of jewelry, setting about decorating his kneejoints and pedes with more purple stones and delicate chains and plates.
"Yes? I mean who wouldn't like it?" startled Optimus blurted out the truth of it, "I have always liked it when you focused on me. Or, you know spending time with you have always been… ah," he tripped over his own glossa, realizing he'd said far too much, far too honestly.
And to a mech trying out his future consort's…
He was awful, wasn't he?
"Then it's good it's for you, isn't it," the words shattered his self recriminations so thoroughly he just lifted his helm a little and stared at Megatron's stupid little smirk.
"W-what?"
"Then it is good all this is for you, isn't it?" the smirk grew and Optimus gaped at it, "come now Optimus, you can't be that oblivious to my affection, can you?"
"What… I…" yes, yes he could in fact be that oblivious because, what-the-frag!?
"Well now, I think there will be quite a lot of dissapointed mecha in a moment then, seeing as you don't reprociate m~"
"No!" Optimus burst out, "no, no I do, I do, I just… what mechs?" he ground to a halt again, confused and overwhelmed.
"The ones invited to our Conjuxing of course," Megatron said blightly, shifting to pull the biggest, and so far unopened box, on the table to the edge, "first you have to help me get ready though. We must adhere to tradition after all."
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Optimus might, or might not have hit Megatron…. and might or might not have then kissed him a bit.
Finally!
Turned out he had lied about the guests, crackling like the evil demented warlord he was as he admitted it, but not about the proposal. Or his feelings.
And could he really complain, lying here, now, after the actual ceremony, on an expansive and plush berth with a mountain of pillows. Including one shaped like the Decepticon badge because Bumblebee had a terrible sense of humor.
Watching as Megatron carefully removed delicate chains and twinkling stones from his chassis, Optimus was pretty sure he could not…
At least not if the mech hurried up and got to helping him, he still owed him about four vorn worth of kisses, and well, all the things that went with those kisses.