Trailbreaker was trying and failing spectacularly to keep a stupid ridiculous grin off his face. He couldn’t help it, sure it’s been months since this whole thing became….official, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Him and Megatron, Megatron and HIM, like, TOGETHER. And not just you know, casual or, y’know, no-interface-friends-who-kiss.
They were definitely not either of those things.
He hilted himself in Megatron’s slick valve, engine purring gleefully. He had Megatron pinned to their berth, his knees pressed back against his heaving chest. His face was flushed and his optics were thin, pleased slivers of vermilion light.
Megatron’s optics slid further open, just the barest amount, and he smirked in the way that meant he was feeling fond and exasperated all at once.
Trailbreaker’s face felt hot for a completely different reason now. He leaned down and pressed his face into Megatron’s chest and bit his lip, trying to school his giddy expression.
“And what are we so smiley about now?” Megatron asked through steamy exvents.
“Sorry, I can’t help it. This is just amazing to me.” he said through a slight chuckle.
Megatron huffed in amusement, “It would be more amazing if you moved.”
Trailbreaker lifted his helm and his visor flashed as his smile returned to its full glory, “Impatient are we?”
He pulled back and then hilted himself harshly, causing Megatron’s vents to stutter and his mouth to hang open in a silent gasp.
“Hmm? How about it Megs? Tell me what you want…” he teased easily, slowly grinding his spike deep into Megatron’s valve.
He could feel the struts in Megatron’s legs quivering.
Megatron licked his lips and whined faintly, “F-faster…Please!”
Trailbreaker’s mind certainly wasn’t on the meeting happening around him, though he most certainly should have been paying attention. He wasn’t even thinking about the mind blowing ‘Facing he did before the meeting had started. Speaking of Interface, after that round he feels like he should be on cloud nine, except he feels like he’s dangling off the edge of the inner rings of hell. Several people have tried talking to him and they all walked away in similar states of the conclusion “Mister achy breaky spark is back…”
He could understand the frustration, even he knew he was kind of insufferable like this. Nobody likes a mech who shoots down every positive uplifting comment with one equally sullen. They’re just trying to help lighten his mood and he knows that, and he knows that like every other mood of his it will pass, he just wishes it would pass faster. He’d like to go back to being wildly thrilled about being lover to the most incredible mech he’s ever met.
Because right now he’s pretty willing to accept that it’s all a fluke. Why him? Seriously. I mean, sometimes he’s useful, yeah, but the ratio of ‘useful’ to ‘waste of space’ is not looking good. He’s amazed sometimes they even allowed him to assist with this uprising, though I mean, when you’re desperate….
A hand claps down on his shoulder and he startles, suddenly sitting bolt upright and hearing a loud click he’s fairly certain came from somewhere in his own back because man did it hurt. As he rubs at his aching spinal strut he looks up and realizes the meeting chamber is empty, except for him and Megatron.
“You’re looking a little lost Trailbreaker…” He spoke quietly, in soft tones no other mech was privy to.
Trailbreaker looked up at his companion for a moment and then cast his gaze back in front of himself. He focused on the far wall, feeling like a war was breaking out between his vocalizer and his brain. There were things he wanted to say, things he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t will himself to voice them. Megatron was silent beside him, a monumental statue of unwavering calm.
The hand on his shoulder shifted, and the backs of rough scarred knuckles brushed against his cheek. He leaned into the touch and sighed heavily, he felt about ready to drop into unconsciousness and let the night’s recharge take his foul mood with it.
“Come, let’s go to berth.”
Before Trailbreaker could even respond he was hefted right out of his chair into the air, as if he weighed nothing (which he knew was absolutely not true).
“Megatron! Really, that’s not necessary—Mmph!”
Megatron pressed their lips together fiercely until Trailbreaker melted into it and clung to his broad chassis. He tilted his helm and soon found his glossa at war with another. When they pulled apart Megatron just looked at him, optics glowing softly.
“Beauty, power and quality are often found in the places where people do not look for them. The same can similarly be said for those who do not look kindly upon themselves.” Megatron’s voice was a soft, sweet timbre, and his field was like a thick blanket of affection.
Trailbreaker blinked stupidly at his mate, but spun the words around in his head a few times. He nodded slowly, he understood, but he also knew the words weren’t going to mean much to him right now. He leaned up and rubbed his sharp nasal ridge against Megatron’s broad one.
As He lay splayed across Megatron’s chest, chin resting on his arms, thick digits running up and down his back, he found himself having an odd moment.
He turned his helm to the side and closed his optics, he desperately needed to just pass out already. Megatron laid both his hands on Trailbreakers back and then slowly encircled him in his arms.
“I know I perhaps don’t say it often enough, that’s simply a fault on my part, an insecurity I’ve yet to shed. But I do love you. I wish that could be as obvious to you as it would be to those from my universe. I do not love easily.”
Trailbreaker sat quietly, but then he looked back to Megatron’s face and gave a faint smile.
“I’m sorry,” Megatron made as if to protest but Trailbreaker cut him off, “and thank you.”
Megatron’s engine rumbled in that cute frustrated manner it often does when he doesn’t know what to do.
Trailbreaker settled more peacefully onto Megatron’s chest, his little smile still present, and a soft warmth blooming inside him.
Tomorrow was a new day.
He could do this.
He was loved.