Warnings: implied smut
Fandom/Continuity: Transformers G1
Characters/Pairing: Motormaster/Breakdown, Soundwave, Megatron, mentions of others
Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.
All mechs involved stood in front of Megatron - except the two cassettes who were still in medbay. But for once, Motormaster envied them, because they didn’t have to fear Megatron’s bad mood.
The warlord looked alternately at Soundwave, Breakdown and Motormaster. The gestalt leader’s optics twitched in disgust as he saw his subordinate out of the corner of his optical sensors. The Lamborghini stood there, shoulders slumped and staring in front of him at the ground. Motormaster could sense through the bond that he felt guilty, and anxious. Though, Motormaster didn’t think much about the anxiety, because he hardly knew moments when Breakdown didn't feel that way.
Right now the Lamborghini was so nervous that Motormaster had to explain everything that had happened, because after Breakdown’s stammering, Megatron shouted at him which only caused Breakdown to be even more scared. Motormaster had even needed to send fake soothing emotions through the bond so as not to have his team mate short circuit them all. Fortunately, he’d been successful with that, and only the lights in the room had flickered for a few astroseconds.
It really wouldn’t have been very good to have Megatron pass out due to one of his foot soldiers. Especially since this ability of Breakdown was the reason they all were in the throne room in the first place.
Motormaster suppressed a sigh when he thought about his twitchy team mate. Everyone knew how nervous Breakdown was, it was no wonder Rumble and Frenzy tried to play pranks on him. This time, though, they had overdone it, and in the end, they lay unconscious on the floor with Breakdown’s engine rumbling loudly. And considering that, it wasn’t even Breakdown’s fault…
The situation had escalated when Soundwave insisted on punishing Breakdown. And no one punished anyone of Motormaster’s team except himself. So, it was only natural that Motormaster’s answer to this demand was a fist in the communication officer’s face…
From there, it’d only got worse, and ended with all of them standing right in front of Megatron. But unlike Motormaster had imagined, Megatron only rubbed his temple, and an annoyed huff puffed from his vents.
“My army acts like a heap of immature idiots,” he eventually said, also addressing Soundwave, and Megatron’s look was punishment enough, Motormaster thought.
“How am I supposed to defeat the Autobots if my soldiers can’t take care of their own unimportant business?”
And of course, there it was again, blaming the others for Megatron’s failure and not thinking an astrosecond about the probable insanity of his plans… Motormaster bit back a growl at his train of thought. It wouldn’t serve this situation. His anger had to be transmitted through the gestalt link he shared with Breakdown, however, and the Lamborghini next to him shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
“I do not care about any pranks, and their results, except if they will ruin my plans. As long as this doesn’t happen, you will take care of your own subordinates.” Megatron’s voice was stern, and he glared at both, Motormaster and Soundwave. And neither of them objected. “I expect my officers to be able to be above their subordinates’ temper and unlike them, not attack each other at the first instance. Did I make myself clear?”
Soundwave voiced his understanding with this annoying tone which was even for a robotic being mechanic, and Motormaster grumbled a “Yes, sir”.
Megatron eyed them up another last time, causing Breakdown to shuffle his weight from one foot to the other, before he growled, “Dismissed!”
Motormaster didn’t wait long. He grabbed Breakdown’s upper arm tightly, and dragged the smaller Decepticon behind him, stomping out of the room. He was sure, the Lamborghini felt Motormaster’s anger as clear as he felt the other’s agitation. He didn’t care about it.
He hauled Breakdown with him, ignoring the pained faceplates at the tight grip, and only let go of him as they reached the area of the Stunticons. But there was not much time to think of a punishment for the Lamborghini, because just as he closed the door of the Stunticon rec-room, another comm pinged Motormaster.
Motormaster growled, caused Breakdown to wince, and stormed out again. His team never gave him a break…
A few joors had passed; Motormaster lay on his berth in recharge. The new incident with Wildrider and Brawl having an argument with two seekers had eliminated the rest of his good mood. At least this time Megatron hadn’t ordered him to come, so it had been a little less humiliating. He'd still had to bring Wildrider to medbay while a stupid Combaticon insisted that it really hadn’t been their fault. Fortunately, he could dump Brawl on Onslaught, and compared to this bunch of idiots, his team was almost easy to handle.
When Motormaster had come back, Breakdown was nowhere to be seen, and had probably already been in recharge. He couldn’t care less. The paranoia was almost enough punishment for the skittish mech, Motormaster thought, and a night in terror of what Motormaster would have made up to discipline him served him just right.
The hope of the next day being a better one was Motormaster’s last thought before his systems shut down.
But Motormaster didn’t wake up at the next day.
His systems booted up while it was still night. The lights in his room were out, and a mixture of fear and anticipation came as clear through the bond as the light touches on his armour were.
Motormaster’s processor was awake within a few astroseconds, and he sat up, alarmed, only to see two purple optics flickering in confusion and agitation.
Breakdown straddled his thigh, shivering slightly, his now trembling hands near Motormaster’s abdomen.
“What are you doing here?” The truck just wanted to recharge, the day had been bad enough.
Breakdown opened his mouth, but closed it again soon, saying nothing. His shivering ebbed a little, and his small fingers traced the transformation seams on Motormaster’s thigh.
Motormaster suppressed a sigh at the view of Breakdown glancing down, evading meeting Motormaster’s optics while he caressed the grey metal.
It was very clear what Breakdown wanted, the sensations over the bond didn’t lie.
He was there to say ‘thank you’, and to say ‘I’m sorry’.
Motormaster huffed, reaching for the other’s face and turning it towards him so that Breakdown had no other choice than to look at his optics.
“I’m still gonna have to punish you tomorrow.”
Breakdown nodded, with his optic sensors widened and this submissive expression that promised to do whatever Motormaster wanted.
At that, Motormaster could neither suppress the predatory growl nor his field flaring strongly.