willnotgogently:
mightymegatron:
Megatron kept staring at the places Rung touched him, feeling the happiness in his field. It was so… simple. So easy, like they’d known each other for eons. He laid his servo over where Rung’s rested on his arm, vents stalling again as it was kissed. How did he do that?
“There is nothing I would like more. It’s one thing after all to read your words, but…” Closing his optics for a moment, Megatron’s plating relaxed as he focused on the feeling of his new companion nestled against him. Glancing down, he carefully placed an arm around Rung’s shoulders. “-To be allowed here is a privilege I don’t take lightly. As evidenced by your tank friend, associating with me has its risks. I’m not blind…” His claws tightened gently around the smaller mech’s servo. “That you keep my company regardless speaks highly of your character, Rung.”
“I wish that I could be optimistic and say that it’s simply Attrition being paranoid, and in a sense he is, but it’s not you that he’s afraid of.” Rung spoke quietly, his shoulders sagging just a little. “I’m not so naive as to think that millions of years of history is just going to be forgotten about or forgiven by peoples in general, much as I’d like to think that. But, we can surround ourselves with friends who know you only mean well, and those who are willing to learn.”
He smiled gently and let one hand slide up the others arm, lightly squeezing the hard plating, feeling small parts where the metal had been forced closed with a welding torch in the past. His spark tensed as he touched those areas, wishing with all of his self that he could find some way to make it better.
“And if you’re ever unnerved about visiting here, then I’ll come to you. I -want- your company. I want to sit with you, whether the night is full of words or silence, I don’t care. Just as long as we can be together….”
“In my experience, I’ve found that’s the most we can ever do…” Once again, Megatron marveled at how comfortable Rung was around him, and at how comfortable he himself was at the moment. The smaller mech was touching him far more than most of those he could consider friend ever did, and yet it wasn’t invasive. Every action was made with care, gentle and new.
Megatron fell harder with each one for the tenderness of it all.
To know that his admiration was shared to such a degree, to hear it in his voice and feel it in his touch stirred something within Megatron. He felt young again, as full of hope as he’d been when he’d first chosen his name. The warlord couldn’t keep from smiling. He even laughed, leaning down to trace Rung’s jawline with the back of his claw.
“And here I thought I was meant to be the poet! No… Only you could keep me away. Let others think what they will! If I was someone who gave up on what I wanted because someone disapproved, I never would have left the mines and what I want- who I want, is you… for as long as you would have me.”
Megatron's back up 