Chapter Text
“Megatron…”
The large silver mech didn’t even have the energy to cycle his optics online. He just pressed his faceplates deeper into the berth.
“Mmhh?”
“Megatron, I have a semi-final match against the Stunticons this morning. Can you take Hot Rod for his injection this time?”
“What kind of match…?” Megatron mumbled into the slab, his vocalizer still full with statics.
“Ringball.” Optimus sighed with exasperation. “Do you ever actually read the local newspages about me?”
“No.” Megatron shifted, his heavy frame groaning in protest. He could hear the faint, rhythmic whir of Optimus applying a quick morning polish, though his lagging processor was still struggling to catch up to the conversation. “Good luck,” he finally offered, hoping that would be the end of it.
Optimus’s heavy pedesteps moved toward the door, paused, and then turned back. “Oh, and Megatron? Do not give Hot Rod any ice energon this time.”
“Urrggh… fine,” Megatron grunted.
The door finally slid shut with a soft hiss.
Left in the quiet of their quarter, Megatron shoved his helm forcefully against the charging port, desperate for a few more minutes of peace. It took several moments for enough energy to finally boot up his primary cognitive systems.
Blinking his red optics online, he checked his internal chronometer. Seeing that the time had moving on, the silver mech let go a very long, very deep groan.