#yadda make out session in (well technically out of) the rain baybeeeee

[primus-why]

Rom-Com Cliché -- Saying the Wrong Name at the Wedding

Idk why but I just imagined some post-war bonding ceremony shenanigans. Imagine the war has ended, and all Cybertronians are invited back to the planet to rebuild...

The tentative situation they're calling "peace" between Autobots and Decepticons is under constant strain, which was to be expected, but the returning NAILs don't seem to like the factions either. With tensions on the rise, Optimus and his advisors decide their best bet is to try and forge a fresh relationship with the NAILs-- after all, Optimis only ascended to the role shortly before the exodus. He'll show them that he's different than his predecessors! By extending a servo in genuine trust and a desire to understand, the Autobots and NAILs may find new allies in one another.

(Which, as Prowl points out, is a strategic military maneuver as much as it is a political one. By bolstering their allied numbers, it will make the 'Cons think twice about breaking the treaty and restarting the war.)

However, to their credit, Megatron and the 'Cons appear to throwing themselves into rebuilding efforts as much as anyone else. They even agree to share resources with the NAILs-- in exchange for labor or something of equal value, of course. Optimus can respect that. He knows Megatron believes actions speak louder than words, so it's encouraging to see the Decepticons making the effort to unify as well.

Slowly Optimus is put more at ease-- the three primary factions fall into a rhythm which sees the return of buildings for shelter and science, free-flowing energon, and nature reserves. As a result, he feels much lighter. The Matrix practically sings when he sits on a Council where they are productive!

Ironhide: Careful there, Prime. I think that grin might become infectious.

Optimus: Ha-- I keep forgetting how easy I am to read without my mask.

Megatron snorts. He was always able to read Prime just fine, even with a battle mask. The mech is too open and honest-- a quality the bit-brained Autobots admired in their leader.

But, even he had to admit, it's hard not to stare when the fool is practically beaming. It comes as a shock to no one that joy was not an emotion he often saw in his encounters with the Prime on the battlefield. 'It's natural to be curious,' Megatron reasons with himself; he simply isn't used to that bare face-- especially when it isn't weighed down by sad optics... or lips set in a hard line...

'... Scrap, what were they saying?'

Windblade: Is everyone excited for the festival?

'Ah.'

Starscream: Ughhhh...

Metalhawk: It doesn't have to be perfect.

Starscream: Yes it does. There's less than a deca-cycle to complete the spires. If they're not-- nevermind. I won't get into it here.

Megatron: Isn't the point of this Council to communicate our collective needs? I daresay Winglord-- there's no better audience to hear your party-planning woes.

Starscream: Hmph. Perhaps. But I'd sooner scan another Earth altmode than accept your aid... no offense, Prime.

Optimus: None taken.

Ironhide: In all seriousness, if you need materials--

Windblade: --or even more flightframes to assist in construction..?

'There we go.' Megatron huffed to himself in satisfaction, 'That prideful idiot.' He knew Starscream would never have allowed himself to ask for help unless he gave him a poke.

A festival. He hadn't been to one in many years-- never in Vos, and never as a free mech. The last time he attended had been on those rare occasions he snuck out of the Pits. A handful of times he had been lucky and stumbled upon a festival. Once he deliberately snuck out to orate a speech, before the authorities broke up the crowd and spoiled the atmosphere of the event.

'... Maybe I should give a speech, for old times sake-- with the added bonus that Starscream would absolutely abhor it.'

Optimus stole a glance at Megatron, who had begun to help himself to the snacks brought for the meeting. The two faction leaders were certainly on better terms with one another than at the start of the rebuilding efforts, though Optimus would hesitate to call themselves anything more than acquaintances. Which felt strange, considering how intimately they'd come to understand one another in the context of war.

'He did it again...' For someone normally so prone to posturing, Megatron was not opposed to a display of subtlety, especially when in service to others. Of course he continues to lean into grand gestures, and always makes sure he gets the credit he is owed for his work in rebuilding Cybertron... but in these small, almost inconsequential moments, he still looks out for others in his own roundabout way. He'd cede his floor time to someone who spoke on an issue he agreed with, essentially handing them a platform; he'd do what he did just now-- toss out some snarky jabs to get a conversation flowing; Optimus once even saw him purchase fancy fuel at a market, then hand half to a sparkling who had been eyeing the goods... though he tried to hide gesture.

The duplicity fascinated Optimus. Has he always been this way? Surveillance of Decepticon command and years of combatting the mech head-on suggested this was not the case. However, they held different roles now. Optimus knows he's changed since the end of the war... he can't help but wonder how Megatron has been changed too...

'... Wait, oh no, did Metalhawk just say something?'

Metalhawk: Speaking of Earth, I've been meaning to ask you about it for a while.

'Ah!'

Optimus: Yes, of course! What would you like to know?

Metalhawk: Having never been myself, I'm curious about your affection for it. You must hold it in high regard if you've maintained your altmode all this time?

Optimus: Oh! That's... well, yes. Despite the many unpleasant memories, I also made many fond ones that I will treasure. Even when I chose it, this alt just felt... right.

Metalhawk: I see. Would you be open to sharing some of those fond memories with me? Perhaps... at the festival?

'... Holy scrap. Is he asking what I think he's asking??' Despite his efforts Optimus can feel energon begin to rise to his face-- he hasn't been asked out since before he was a Prime! Distantly he is aware the room got quieter, save for Megatron coughing on a sweet that went down the wrong pipe.

Optimus: I should think there would be plenty of time, if we attended together.

Metalhawk: Then it's a date?

Optimus: Looking forward to it..!

Metalhawk takes his leave with a warm wave and a smile. Windblade and Ironhide gawk until he is gone before rushing to Optimus.

Windblade: Did you know that was going to happen??

Optimus: No, not at all!

Windblade: You handled it pretty well!

Optimus: Oh thank Primus. I don't know why I got so nervous all of a sudden. I speak to him nearly every day...

Ironhide: Ooooo, I'm telling Ratchet...

Optimus: Go ahead, it's not like I wasn't planning on telling my amica... preferable he knows before the press.

Ironhide: I was thinking more-so that he'd wanna squeeze you in, to check if your firewalls are up-to-date--

Optimus: -- 'HIDE!

Starscream: *ehem* Congratulations, Optimus Prime, you two make a handsome match. Now, if we could get back to planning the biggest event of the stellar cycle...

Fast forward-- past the festival, past the tabloids speculating on the nature Metalhawk and the Prime's relationship. The Autobots meet with Optimus once again. This time, some propose... a proposal.

That is to say-- a political bonding ceremony between the leader of the Autobots and a leader of the NAILs.

Ratchet thinks it's a bad idea-- much too soon for something so dramatic. It will seem farcical, an echo of a time long past where higher castes bonded to better their social standing. Optimus tends to agree.

But Prowl argues their festival date generated a lot of public approval. Having the people's high regard and trust is important in unstable times...

Prowl: Not to mention we'd secure our relationship with the NAILs. If the 'Cons ever stir up trouble, we'll be ready for them.

But Optimus isn't so sure of that argument anymore. Why would Megatron put so much effort into rebuilding, to personally have a servo in shaping their new world, only to destroy it again?

Optimus: ... Jazz? What do you think?

Jazz: ... *sigh* Honestly? I think a big, public-facing, cross-factional bond would go a long way towards helping things solidify. Feels more permanent... and obviously the 'Cons are off the table. So... why not Metalhawk? He's a nice guy, right?

Ratchet: Being 'nice' isn't all there is to it! Optimus has every right to bond with someone he loves..!

The 'Bots bicker, and Optimus has a moment to mull it over.

Finally, he speaks.

Optimus: ... I think... I could grow to love him. In time.

Ratchet: Optimus...

Optimus: It's okay, Ratchet. I accepted long ago that being Prime would require personal sacrifices.

Ratchet: ...

Optimus: Prowl, please prepare correspondence to Metalhawk. I want him to make an informed decision, so that I don't take this choice from him under false pretenses.

Ratchet exits without another word and doesn't return to the meeting.

Fast forward again-- to the day of the bonding ceremony. Metalhawk agreed (after making sure Optimus was of sound mind) to bond for the unification of Cybertron.

Anyone who is anyone is at this wedding. Councilmech, visiting dignitaries and ambassadors, the rich and famous. Sprinkled among them are genuine friends of the couple. Across Cybertron the event is broadcast live, and everyone waits with baited breath as the ceremony draws closer and closer to its conclusion.

Megatron made sure to sit on the end so he could beat the crowds to the open bar. In fact, he doesn't even stick around for the latter half-- why bother? He's already made his required appearance. Might as well crack open some high grade and head home early.

He eyes the solid fuel as well-- energon goodies and foreign sweets piled high for guests to choose from to their sparks content-- but he doesn't have an appetite. Hasn't for quite some time. He inspects his cube and spots the broadcast on a nearby holoscreen.

He sneers, frighteningly enough that the staff lingering in his line of sight make themselves scarce.

Megatron: I thought you were better than this. All that talk about forging our own bright future, and yet here we are. Lining up for the honor to dance in the shadows of a gilded past. Disgraceful.

On screen the couple turns to face each other, ready to recite the last portion of their fictitious vows before sealing the deal. Optimus, the self-sacrificing idiot-- still all too easy to read even in times like these if one knew where to look-- is putting on a brave face out of a sense of duty.

... He can't watch them do this. Instead, he turns back to lean against the bar and contemplate how far back this puts his plans for a free Cybertron... a world where high caste couplings are a thing of the distant past, and Primes can bond whomever they please...

Clergybot: To love and to cherish...

Metalhawk: To love and to cherish...

Clergybot: ... Until all are one.

Metalhawk: ... Until all are one.

Clergybot: ... And now I, Optimus Prime...

Optimus: I, Optimus Prime...

Clergybot: ... Take thee, Metalhawk...

Optimus: ... take thee, Megatron...

Megatron spits out his fuel and glares at the cube like it offended him.

'What the frag is in this--?!?'

But the gasps and murmurs of the crowd replacing the dull recitation alerted him to the fact that the ceremony... had stopped.

Optimus: I... I mean...

'Oh Primus...'

Cameras zoom in even closer, showing the Prime frozen in shock. The cube slips from Megatron's servo, shattering on the floor.

'Did he actually...??'

Metalhawk was stroking the Prime's servos that were still held in his own, whispering something blessedly inaudible, but the other mech eventually twisted them free.

Optimus: ... I'm sorry, I-I have to go.

Murmurs grew into a scandalized uproar as the Prime bolted from the altar and out the back of the temple. Metalhawk and the clergy attempted to placate them, but in time Metalhawk would leave to join the search party who had ran after Optimus.

Not before Megatron downed the rest of his drink and stole some snacks for the road (the reception wouldn't be needing them anyway.) He takes to the skies-- an advantage not many Autobots had on hand that would take too long to mobilize-- and opens a private comm channel.

Megatron:: Soundwave! Get me visual reports from the Westside of New Iacon, near the temple! Prime has escaped!::

After a beat, he realizes how that sounded. Old habits certainly do die hard.

Megatron:: He's fled the scene. Can you tell me which direction he's headed?::

Soundwave pings an acknowledgment. It doesn't take long to get his answer.

Soundwave:: Prime: headed towards Archives.::

Megatron:: The Archives? That's halfway across--::

Soundwave:: Clarification: The Old Archives.::

'Ah, that makes more sense.'

Megatron:: Thank you, old friend. What would I do without you?::

Soundwave:: Megatron: remain single forever.::

Megatron:: You-- wh-- that is not why I am pursuing him!!::

Soundwave:: ;) ::

Megatron hangs up and focuses on his flight instead, the impending conversation he'll need to have with the Prime looming ominously like a cloud.