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Losing control was something expected of people, and it was something that Minimus had thankfully never experienced. No, false - it had lost control of things that were outside of his control, he’d failed in his duties. But never in his function had he lost control in coitus.

At first he’d been confused, felt broken at mechs who kept trying to reach something that he could not achieve. Eventually, on the rare occasion that he came with someone to a berth, he began to fake the overload, copying what he’d seen others do, or what he’d seen in vids.

It was neither pleasant nor was it convincing for any parties involved. 

Normally, this never bothered Minimus. As Magnus he was far too busy to take on sexual partners, and as Minimus no one would look at him twice. He was the lesser brother outside the armor, and the intimidating rule master inside it.

He’d lived his entire functioning with this, and now for the first time he felt truly bad that he couldn’t overload. It was a part of interfacing, and without it…how could he enjoy the whole process? For the first time he wanted to enjoy himself with another mech. 

Even if that other mech was Megatron of all people.

Megatron was an odd choice to be courting, but here they were, months into it, and entering the physical aspect of their relationship. Minimus kept notes on their process, the file kept under physical lock and key. He took notes during their interactions. The way they kissed, the way that Megatron touched him

He noted the warming of his frame, and did his best to ignore it. Now it only ended in frustration - the time that he attempted to relieve himself only ended in frustration. And now that he knew that he was still unable to overload, the impending thought of interfacing Megatron brought not pleasure, but dread.

Megatron’s engine was loud and hot against his back. Minimus was overwhelmed almost - there was an infinite amount of data to sort through. The sounds of Megatron’s engine roaring, the sound of silver hips slamming against his aft, the wet sounds of their coupling. His favorite sound, however, was Megatron’s moans and whispers against his audial.

Minimus panted, pressing back against each thrust. He was surrounded, safe, and while that helped him to relax and enjoy it, the knowledge that Megatron would overload, and he wouldn’t, and Megatron would question him over and over made him wary.

But it was hard to focus on that when Megatron was rubbing his node. Minimus gasped, his helm falling onto his forearms as a thrust moved him a few inches up the bed. Megatron apologized, breathless, stroking up Minimus’ body. Minimus loved it. He loved being full, he loved the temporary mess, he loved that he would be helping Megatron find pleasure in a universe that was still lacking too much in it.

And then it happened.

“Are you close?” Megatron whispered, strained, and Minimus scowled down at the berth.

That was that then.

“I- I’m fine, Megatron. Continue,” he said, quickly, before his arousal could die away. “Please. Overload.”

The thrusts paused, and Minimus could have almost cursed, if it hadn’t been inappropriate. He realized that he’d tensed, and actually did curse. “Frag me.”

“I was.” Megatron shuddered and nuzzled against the side of his helm. “Magnus-”

“I can’t overload. It’s as simple as that. Can we continue? I would like to.” Minimus turned his head, trying to catch Megatron’s lips, to kiss him, but Megatron pulled back.

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Can’t.” Minimus tried to move his hips in a circle, and Megatron shuddered at the stimulation. “I have tried. There is something about my anatomy, as a load bearer, perhaps. That is Ratchet’s diagnosis.”


“Megatron.” Minimus turned enough to look at the silver mech over his shoulder. “Have you known me to ever be a liar?”


“Then trust me when I say I wish for you to continue. If you wish to discuss this, we can do so after you overload.”

Megatron stared at him a moment, then chuckled, and pulled Minimus up, kissing him, almost biting. “Very well.” Still, he pulled out, grabbed Minimus, and flipped him onto his back. 

Megatron’s spike slid back in easily, and Minimus hooked his legs around his hips, gasping at the sensations. Dulled, now, and his arousal not at the forefront of his mind, but a pleasant burn in the background. It was frustrating, so frustrating, but not dangerous.

He would offline before he would overload. 

“Does it feel good, still?” Megatron asked, and Minimus turned his head toward him as he thrust.

“Yes.” Minimus gasped as Megatron wrapped an arm around him, lifted his hips off the berth, and fragged him, hard.

“And does it-”

“Megatron, we can..nnh - discuss this - aah - when you are done.” Minimus grit his dentae and hooked his hands onto Megatron’s chestplate. 

Bless his spark, Megatron held out as long as he could, perhaps in some dim hope that Minimus would overload. But he didn’t. Megatron came with a roar, his armor shifting as it tried to expel more heat. His spike lodged it self into Minimus’ valve, stretching it to capacity.

Deep as it was, there was an itch that was unscratchable.

It took Megatron a few minutes to recover, and he panted against Minimus’ audial. This was the part that Minimus liked the least. His partner would question it, why didn’t you overload, was it me? Are you not attracted to me?, or worse, think he did and leave.

But Megatron was full of surprises. As he pulled out, Minimus rolled onto his side and grimaced at the transfluid seeping from his valve. He reached down and cupped a hand over his valve, trying to keep it in. “Give me a moment to clean up-”

“Allow me,” Megatron said, lifting Minimus up. Minimus could hardly argue. His vocalizer didn’t seem to want to work, not did his legs, and he could only push at Megatron’s hand as the captain carried him to the washrack.

“Megatron I insist you put me down-”

“And I will.” Megatron kept holding him as he turned on the washrack, and only set him down when the water was running. The water hit their heated frames and turned to steam almost immediately, and Minimus’ armor was torn between opening to cool down and clamping down to keep the shock of cold water out. In the end he let it flare and open, and Megatron did the same.

“I can wash myself. Go lay down,” Minimus said, turning away from Megatron and letting the water flow over him. Who would want to stay with a broken lover? He had put this off, knowing that it would end their courtship. It had ended more than one attempt at a relationship for Ultra Magnus, and this would be no different.

Except it would.

“You can wash yourself,” Megatron said, kneeling and taking a rag from the wall before Minimus could grab it. Megatron pulled Minimus against him, and lifted him up against him.


“Are you satisfied?” Megatron’s hand brushed over Minimus’ valve, and Minimus shuddered.

“I told you, I cannot overload.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Megatron kissed at Minimus’ neck and his finger slid into Minimus’ valve, and pulled back. It aided in getting the transfluid out of him, and Minimus sagged against Megatron.


“…Continue, please,” Minimus said, offlining his optics, and letting Megatron prolong his pleasure. Brushes to his node and slow, lazy fingering, and his body was not rejecting the sensations like it often did.

Instead of leaving him cold, Megatron was letting him cool down, slowly. There was no sudden drop after the plateau, but a lazy, slow slope, and by the time Minimus was clean his body had returned to the proper temperature. Nondramatic, nondrastic. It didn’t leave him feeling unfulfilled and anxious but…rather satisfied.Not like an overload, not like how he heard they were. But satisfied.

“..Thank you,” he said, as Megatron let the shower head rinse them off.

Megatron pressed another kiss against Minimus’ neck, turned off the shower, and lead them back to the berth.