#The general chaos of me attempting lore to give Optimus a ticklish tummy

[birthdaycakeplate]

I deleted the anon message because I’ve exhausted all my brain power, but someone sent me some Megop with ticklish Optimus-and all I can say is: Yes, absolutely, stranger. He is a sensitive boy boy, and I will exploit this for you.

✨Warnings in the tags✨ This is actually appropriately short for once 🥺

——— —————

One more day stuck in this ratty little tent, about two more stuck in a marginally bigger transport shuttle, and Optimus would be off this heatstroke of a planet and back on the Steelhaven.

“It was entirely unnecessary for you to come.” Megatron glowered, annoyed with Reflector comming him consecutive updates about their ETA more than anything.

Optimus didn’t bother looking up, eyes tracing the fresh outline of the falls below the burrow Reflector had found themselves in on his datapad.

“When exactly were you going to send us the finished product for this map?”

“Do you really need one?” Megatron asked, purely to be malicious.

“My men do all your exploring for you now. What use is it to you?”

Optimus didn’t entertain that painfully stupid jab with a response. He saddled his pad on his side for quick access and turned to shunt himself up in their pitiful tent for the time being.

To his dismay, Megatron followed. Unwilling to give him any escape from their week long spat that’d gotten considerably more aggressive a few cycles ago.

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was because Optimus made himself a fine target, despite his efforts to seem unfazed.

Maybe Megatron actually enjoyed this kind of play, though Optimus could hardly see the appeal. He much preferred their awkward, but genuine talks at fueling.

Wedged in a small tent barely capable of housing its two current occupants, Megatron took this opportunity to continue spurring him on while he was stuck there.

“Regardless of how mandatory your role here has been, would you care to remind me when you became a babysitter and forwent your status as a Prime entirely?”

“Well, you and I both know I was sent, because you give anybot else serious attitude and run them off. So, I don’t see why my presence here would be a surprise all at once.”

Megatron actually did look miffed. A rare thing.

“I don’t need any Autobot interference on these explorations in the first place-“

“But we need the finished map.”

“Certainly.” Megatron moved away from the entrance to tower over him.

“And at the virtuous sacrifice of reducing yourself to an errand boy.”

Typical.

Rude, abhorrent, typical Megatron.

Through feeding him ammunition, Optimus moved to sit on his narrow cot. He turned his back to the other and imagined himself back in his nice, cool room on the Steelhaven with all his datapads. Surrounded by the standard size and its dull grey glory -and not an ounce of comfortable furniture anywhere. Someplace he’d give his right servo to be right now.

Megatron would normally drop an argument when it resulted in a Prime clearly put out with him and reluctant to continue -it meant the fun banter that made their ‘conversations’ delightful would be lacking. No sport in that.

But with a single solar cycle left on this planet promising their freedom soon, Megatron felt emboldened to make the most out of their remaining moments together. That was, until the next expedition in a few more months.

He wouldn’t say he *liked* these particular circumstances comprising their time spent together, but they were the few instances their fates crossed paths.

Oh, how he longed for their time on Earth. Able to cause chaos in the nearest city and find Prime’s battle axe aimed at his faceplates in nanokliks.

He stalked over to the little Autobrat, flicking his finials back sensing his approach. He refused to turn, refused to acknowledge the other as little more than an annoying gnat than a once feared criminal warlord that’d turned the little bot inside out a few times over.

Youths... Go figure.

Megatron considered how best to provoke him into their verbal sparring once more when he spied the perfect opportunity on Optimus’ hip plate. The schematics he’d been guarding like a glitch-hawk.

“You need these for your precious Magnus so badly?” Megatron rumbled, already pleased to think about the uproar he was about to cause in the little Prime, and reached for the pad on his hip.

“Why don’t you just-“

“H-HEY~”

Megatron jerked his hand back and stared in genuine concern at the other’s outburst.

Goodness, had his claws grazed him? Had he touched him in an unwelcome way? He hadn’t meant to do *that* ever. Clearly he should have kept his servos to himself.

Then Optimus jumped to his stabilizers, clapped a palm over his hip and spun with wide optics. Looking at Megatron like he was the creature emerging from the murky depths they’d ran across about three oil expeditions ago. All terror and anticipation -expecting the other to lash out.

Which after that display, Megatron would never even think to harm the little- Oh.

*Oh*.

Now Megatron understood....

Just a look at the horrified, flushing face below him and he *knew* all about Optimus’ most unlikely secret.

He turned wicked optics upon the place at his hip he’d accidentally brushed trying to reach the schematics. It was almost too good to be true, and, ever thorough, Megatron would only let himself believe it with further proof.

“I’m sorry little one.” Megatron sounded absolutely not sorry at all.

He took a step forward -one being enough to close any distance between them in the tiny tent.

Optimus’ finials dipped low, sharp denta sinking into a plush lower lip.

“Did I startle you?” Megatron murmured.

“No!” Optimus hissed, now explicitly offended for this attempt at further humiliation. He was a Prime and a Primus-damned warrior!

He’d survived his spark extinguishing once, he’d defeated Megatron’s attempts at worldwide domination -two worlds at once even. He was not startled!

His hand gripped his sensitive hip a little tighter all the same.

“Aw...” Megatron crooned, followed by a sinful, knowing smirk.

“Unlikely.”

“Megatron!”

Optimus pried his hand away -a fatal mistake- to block the big hands coming out to grab him around the middle and keep some mockery of distance between them in this stuffy tent. All he effectively did was give Megatron an opening.

Claws extending beyond the natural limits of their skewering mercy grazed carefully over his sensitive hip joints in a scratching motion.

The noise Optimus made was undignified at best and mortifying at worst. And in Megatron’s opinion, the stuff of symphonies.

The smaller mech twisted, one knee jerking up and nailing Megatron in the thigh. The warlord couldn’t stop himself from grinning through the pain. Surely looking maniacal.

He scratched his claws up from quivering hips to a delicious spot along each side, receiving a squeal and venomous curse in reward.

Optimus glared through tears, promising painful death when this was all over, before the unrestrained screams overtook him, and he was both leaning in and away from his tormentor.

Megatron accepted his morbid fate in full, that was fair after all. No one should ever disrespect this precious, fearsome bot.

That said, he turned his absolute attention over to making more of those squeak-laugh-sobs bubble out of the little blue mech. The one sinking increasingly sharper claws of his own into Megatron’s servos as desperation took hold.

The Tarnish terror was about to smooth a stroke of his thumb along those slender, shivering hips once more when the light of the nearest star burst through the tent’s entry, signaling Reflectors’ return and the tent opening wide. The three, trying to shuffle in all at once, stopped and considered the sight before them.

Optimus’ finials shot up, optics wide, as he noticed the light filtering in, and the possibility of salvation shining with it. He looked between the three of them and threw pride as far out the evacuation tunnel as possible.

“Don’t leave me here! AH~ Don’t leave m- Please! I-“

And then the light faded away as the three made their speedy exit.

“Wait! WAI-AH!”

Megatron purred in enormous satisfaction to not have to have their little playtime cut short. Sweeping deft fingers around the seams of strong, elite framework that’d weathered much in its short lifecycle.

Optimus’ helm jerked back, a thigh hiking up Megatron’s hip in an effort to use the leverage to push away with it. A poor effort. It only drew him farther up into remarkably large hands -capable of bearing the brunt of his weight like he was little heavier than a case of polish.

———- ———-

The shuttle to take them back was stifled by Reflectors’ awkward looks and Lugnut, eager to see their lord as soon as possible after his trip away, prodding curiously about why Optimus looked like a mech thrown through the wringer for a bot given his necessities and a safe tent away from the heat. And why Megatron was obviously quite gleeful of this.

He ignored all of them, focusing instead on nursing the lingering tingle in his seams away and looking as furious as a bot who’d agreed to join the next expedition in another week after his violent assault so quickly could.

It was for the good of Cybertron, and that alone.

Megatron, delighting in the wayward idea that this might promise him the opportunity of turning his cheekplates pink again so soon, could stuff it.

Optimus had not found that tremendous ordeal amusing one bit. Not one.

——-

Me embarrassing myself for anonymous souls who deserve the world.