[Flights of Fancy] Topsy-Turvy 06
Mar. 12th, 2018 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Topsy-Turvy
Universe: Flights of Fancy
Characters: Megatron/Rodimus, Soundwave, Shockwave/Orion Pax, Drift/Perceptor, Starscream, Ensemble
Rating: M
Enticements: Harpyformers AU, Sexual Content, Romance, Unrequited Love, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: If asked, Liege Megatron of the Kaon Aerie would say his life was perfect. With a content, growing flock to manage, he had nothing to worry about. Loneliness was part of a Liege’s life, he’d decided. Until the bright-spirited Hot Rod comes along, determined to be the exception to the rule.
Chapter Six
Megatron couldn’t hide from his paperwork forever.
Two months into Orion’s carry, where the swell of the egg was finally noticeable to the discerning eye, Megatron thought he was safe. He assumed Orion would be too distracted by the growing life within him to send Megatron disapproving looks about the state of affairs of his desk.
He should have expected Orion would recruit help.
“Plans for today?” Soundwave asked as he woke Megatron and handed him a bowl of peaches and oats for breakfast.
Megatron blinked blearily up at his Speaker. It seemed far too early to be awake, though the light streaming in through his balcony confirmed it was time. Perhaps he shouldn’t have stayed up so late, sharing a bottle of fermented honey with Soundwave. Of course Soundwave would be here, bright and early and chipper – for Soundwave.
His Speaker could drink an entire case of mead and not so much as wobble. Then again, behind the mask, Soundwave could be foggy-eyed and barely alert, and no one would ever know.
Megatron had often heard the humans accusing the harpies of having some kind of special magic. He wondered if, in this case, it were true. No mortal harpy should be able to drink that much and walk away!
“Lay around in the nest and recover from last night?” Megatron replied as he glared at the bowl of oats. He wasn’t sure his churning stomach was ready for food. He reached for the cup of water instead.
Soundwave chuckled, raspy though it was.
“You’re a lightweight, Megatron,” Buzzsaw chirped from his brother’s shoulder, still small enough to accomplish that without throwing Soundwave off balance.
Megatron groaned and lay back, throwing his arm wing over his eyes. “Soundwave, your minion is insulting me.”
“Plans for today?” Soundwave repeated, but he wasn’t so cruel. He nudged a clump of something into Megatron’s other hand, which if there truly was a god watching over them, it was salica.
Megatron sighed. “You’re asking me only because you already know what I’m going to be doing today, which has nothing to do with what I had planned.” He sat up and shoved the bundle into his mouth, grimacing at the bitter bark which was, indeed, willow.
“Correct,” Soundwave replied and Buzzsaw chittered a laugh, burying his face against the side of Soundwave’s head.
Megatron rubbed at his temples with the heel of his palm. “Very well. What is it?”
“Your office misses you,” Buzzsaw said.
Megatron resisted the urge to pull a blanket over his head. “Paperwork. You expect me to spend all day squinting at paperwork in my condition?”
“Precisely.” Soundwave tried to hand him the bowl of oats again.
Megatron waved them off and when Soundwave set them aside, Buzzsaw hopped down from his shoulder and toddled over to the bowl.
“Can’t have it go to waste,” he said and curled around the bowl, shoving huge handfuls of it into his mouth.
Megatron’s lips quirked in a grin. That Buzzsaw was starting to get comfortable around him warmed Megatron’s core. Of all Soundwave’s rescued siblings, Buzzsaw had always been the most clingy and rarely spoke in front of others. When not attached to Soundwave, he was hiding with his twin, often somewhere in the ceiling.
Both Laserbeak and Buzzsaw were small for their age. Very small. It made Megatron wonder if perhaps they were fledges bought or stolen from the pygmy tribe. Not that either would know. They couldn’t remember their parents or their original aerie, as they were too young at the time they found themselves in human confinement.
The dull ache in Megatron’s head started to fade. At least the salica was working. “Well then,” he said, and pulled himself to his feet. “I suppose I’d better get to work.”
“Good choice,” Soundwave said, humor rich in his tone.
“Let Buzzsaw finish my breakfast. I’ll eat later when my stomach doesn’t feel like it’s trying to crawl out of my throat,” Megatron said as he stretched. His spine popped and crackled like a harpy twice his age.
“Noted.”
Megatron left them in his nest, thinking longingly of another dose of salica and a barrel of cold water, when he nearly collided with someone just outside his door. He snatched at the poor harpy’s shoulders to keep them both from tumbling to the floor, and found himself staring into Hot Rod’s startled blue eyes.
“Sir!”
“My apologies, Hot Rod, I had something of a long night.” Megatron snatched his hands back and put distance between them. “Carry on.”
“I’m actually standing out here to catch you,” Hot Rod said, and only then did Megatron notice the armful of documents he carried. “I was told to make sure you found your way to your office this morning.”
Megatron almost rolled his eyes. “Let me guess: Orion gave you this mission?”
“Is it so obvious?” Hot Rod chuckled. “Though I don’t think I’m physically capable of making you do anything, so I guess I’ll just have to ask real nicely.”
Heat throbbed through Megatron’s core as Hot Rod’s last words turned into something closer to a rolling purr. With it came a cheeky grin and a wink and Megatron’s hungover senses could only interpret the signs as ‘want.’
He firmly smacked down the impulses and hung a sign over the cage he stuck them inside. ‘Can’t have.’
“Fine.” Megatron rubbed at his forehead again. “I know when I’m defeated. I’ll do my paperwork.” He turned down the slope and started toward his office. If anyone asked, he absolutely did not trudge.
“Awww. I didn’t even get to use my secret weapon,” Hot Rod said as he caught up to Megatron with a few happy skips, his feathers bright and fluttering around his face. “Orion told me I could use any means necessary. I think he meant it, too.”
Megatron managed a chuckle. “He is far too aware of the methods I use to avoid work I consider tedious.”
“So getting drunk was part of the plan?”
“That was Soundwave’s fault.”
Hot Rod snickered and juggled his armful of scrolls and papers. “I don’t think anyone’s going to believe that.”
“Anyone but Orion would.” Megatron sighed theatrically and rubbed at the back of his neck. “He’s going to lay in a few weeks, and yet he concerns himself with his duty. I’m going to have to force him to take fledge leave, aren’t I?”
Some of the bounce vanished from Hot Rod’s step. “Probably.” His pace slowed a little, and Megatron dropped back to match it. “You’d know him better than I do.”
“I’ve known him for a long time,” Megatron agreed and eyed Hot Rod carefully, in between watching the path ahead of them. The last thing he needed was to collide with someone else in his flock. “Familiarity comes with the territory.”
“How long?”
“Have I known Orion? We grew up together.” Megatron smiled softly, thinking of the awkward bara who’d been one of the first to extend a hand of friendship, so genuinely Megatron hadn’t known Orion was royalty until his parents told him. “He’d had the world handed to him since hatching, and he never took that for granted.”
Hot Rod clutched the papers tighter. “Oh. That makes sense then.”
“What does?”
Hot Rod shrugged. “Just how you know each other is all.” He smiled at Megatron, but it was blinding for its dishonesty. “I’ve never had any friends like that. It must be nice.”
“I am not afraid to admit that I am very lucky to still have him in my life, and Soundwave as well, who I’ve known since sub-adulthood,” Megatron said.
They hit the ground floor and arrived at his office. Megatron tried not to groan with disappointment and ducked into the open doorway, the stack of papers waiting for him tilting ominously in his inbox. No wonder both Orion and Soundwave had been adamant.
Couldn’t he just get one of the harpies in his flock to do this tedious work? He was Liege, damn it. He should be out… leading! Mingling! Not sitting behind a desk scrawling his signature and reading inventory lists and drafting yet another version of the Kaon charter.
Yes, Megatron was well aware he should have finished the charter years ago.
Megatron sighed and dropped into his chair, his quill so dry he’d be better off cutting a new one. He hadn’t capped his ink pot either, which meant it was sludge by now.
“Oh, damn,” he said with an exaggerated exhale. “I’m out of ink. I suppose I can’t do this work after all.”
There was a small clunk as Hot Rod set an inkpot on a clear spot on his desk, and then tumbled the scrolls and papers he carried next to it. “Orion thinks of everything,” he said with a laugh.
“He’s pure evil,” Megatron groaned, but he immediately pulled out a basket of molted flight feathers – some of his own, some belonging to others. He rifled through them, looking for one he could easily cut to make a quill.
“Well, someone needs to look out for you,” Hot Rod said.
“He’s going to have a hatchling soon. He needs to start worrying about that,” Megatron grunted as he selected one he thought would work and shoved the basket back onto the shelf. “I can take care of myself.”
Hot Rod tucked his hands behind his back. “Of course you can. But you are Liege. Even the best of leaders need someone to keep them balanced.”
It sounded like a recitation. Megatron tilted his head, looking up at the pretty smol, Starscream’s words echoing in the back of his mind. He couldn’t imagine Hot Rod was royal. Hot Rod’s behavior didn’t seem to match such a thought. But sometimes… sometimes Hot Rod said things and the wondering returned.
“That’s what I have Soundwave for.” Megatron pulled out a quill knife to start dressing the feather. “I have no qualms about seeking the advice of others.”
Hot Rod gnawed on his bottom lip. “That’s not the same. Advisors and the like, they can help you lead, but they can’t help you.” He bounced on the heels of his tarsals. “You need someone to keep you grounded, or lift you up when you fall.”
Megatron very pointedly did not look up at Hot Rod. He kept his gaze focused on the quill. “And I suppose you have someone in mind?”
“I’m not talking about me, frag it. I just--” Hot Rod broke off with a frustrated growl. “Never mind. Liege Megatron knows best after all.”
Megatron frowned and looked up at Hot Rod, but the smol had backed toward the doorway. “That’s not what I meant to imply.”
“It’s exactly what you meant,” Hot Rod snapped, and there was a fierceness in his tone Megatron rarely heard from the pretty smol. He dropped his head in a hasty bow. “I’ll be back later for the finished scrolls, sir.”
And then he was gone, ducking under the curtain of Megatron’s door in a flutter of bright orange and red feathers. He moved so quickly he loosed the tie holding the fabric back, and Megatron’s door fell shut.
Megatron spilled a curse under his breath. He sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand down his face, fingers pinching above the bridge of his nose. He was always misstepping with Hot Rod, wasn’t he? Couldn’t he have a normal conversation with the smol? Would there always be this tension?
He couldn’t think. His head hurt too much. He needed a pitcher of water and another handful of willow.
He needed everything to start making sense.
~
Despite claiming he would, Hot Rod did not return that day. Instead, Frenzy showed up later to drop off more paperwork and take what Megatron had completed back to Orion.
“What did ya do to hot stuff, boss?” Frenzy asked as he hopped upon a stool to dump his armload onto Megatron’s desk, sending scrolls rolling in all directions.
Megatron grabbed a stack and plopped it down in front of Frenzy. “These go back to Orion, kiddo.”
“Doesn’t answer my question, boss.”
“I know. I was ignoring you.” Megatron tugged the nearest scroll closer and unrolled it.
He sighed at the sight of another supply requisition log. Orion was torturing him with these on purpose. It was punishment for avoiding his tedious work for too long.
Frenzy released a long, exaggerated sigh. “Oh, come on, boss. Give me some of that good gossip. Kid fire is moping around like someone stole his best friend and if you sign that paper any harder, you’ll tear it.”
Megatron dropped the quill and looked at Frenzy. “Hot Rod is upset?”
“Yeah, like ya didn’t know that.” Frenzy scoffed and rolled his eyes. He bounced on the heels of his feet, pale purple feathers rustling around him. “Would solve everyone’s problems if ya’d just mate ‘im already, ya know. Especially if ya do it… in the next week? Yeah.”
Megatron rubbed at his forehead. “I take it you’ve placed a bet.”
“Now would I do a thing like that?” Frenzy feigned shock. “I’m hurt, boss. Hurt to my core.” He thumped his chest before he scooped up the pile Megatron had indicated was for Orion. “In fact, I’m so offended that I’m just going to leave.” He huffed and leapt down from the stool, striding toward the door. Only, he paused and gave Megatron a look. “And bro says not to stay up all night. You can work all day tomorrow, too.”
“How kind of him,” Megatron drawled.
Frenzy grinned like the cheeky sub-adult he was and flounced out the door, nearly losing one of the papers from the stack as he did so.
Megatron shook his head and resumed staring at the stacks of documents and scrolls. They seemed never-ending, and it was already getting late. The sun had ceased to cast rays through his windows, and he now worked by the flickering glow of the lightning jars.
One more hour, Megatron told himself. One more hour and he’d collapse in his nest to sleep peacefully. Or be haunted with dreams of dancing scrolls and quills and an ever looming and larger Soundwave.
It had happened before.
Megatron chuckled, pulled out a snack of dried figs, and returned to work.
The sounds of the wind rustling through the leaves accompanied him, as did that of his aerie slowly settling in for the night. He heard the whistles of the night guard communicating to one another: the two at the ground floor entrance and the two perched on the roof. The sweet smell of dough floated to his nose, set out overnight to rise by the morning.
He worked for an hour and not a moment longer. Then he rose to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, his entire body stiff. He looked at the nub of his quill and tossed it into the bin. He’d have to carve a new one tomorrow.
His aerie was still and soft with quiet. It was both soothing and reassuring. Perhaps strange considering his former aerie had been one that was always busy and never silent. There were too many residents to manage it peacefully.
Megatron didn’t miss the chaos at all. His parents, yes. Everything else? Not so much.
Megatron doused the jars and slipped out of his office, tugging the curtain shut behind him. Humans, he knew, had to lock their rooms and their buildings and their offices. Here, that wasn’t a problem. His flock shared everything, and what one didn’t have, it was acquired for them. What need was there for theft?
Most of the lightning jars had been extinguished, Megatron noticed as he started the slow climb upward, toward the main residential levels. There was enough light to see by, but there was something almost quixotic about the flickering shadows and the rustling of the leaves in a growing wind.
Megatron sniffed. Perhaps another storm?
He mentally reviewed who was on guard tonight. Bulkhead and Roadbuster at the ground entrance; Cyclonus and Whirl on the roof. The former two were the best of friends, the latter two… Megatron only hoped he wouldn’t need to separate them again. Who’d agreed to that pair-up?
Megatron looked up, trying to spot Cyclonus and Whirl through the woven netting protecting the highest ceiling from various leaf and branch falls. He did not see the two guards, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but even in the dim of the late night, he spotted the bright splash of orange and red. There was no other in his flock with coloration so bright, like living flame.
Hot Rod clung to one of the upper perches, his tail feathers draping down behind him. His head tilted back as though he looked up at the stars. There was a slump to his shoulders, and something in his posture suggested sorrow.
Megatron slowed to a stop. He contemplated. He remembered Frenzy’s words, and the guilt came crashing back. The more he tried to keep from hurting Hot Rod, the more damage he did.
He couldn’t just walk away. He would be a poor liege if he left one of his own to sadness. At the very least, he should apologize. Again. It seemed all he was doing as of late was apologizing to Hot Rod.
Megatron climbed to the top rather than fly, using one of the many handholds built into the aerie’s base structure. He pulled up onto a perch near Hot Rod’s, though the smol’s current one was big enough to share. Megatron was far too large to approach quietly, so by the time he arrived at Hot Rod’s level, those bright blue eyes were focused on him.
“Out for an evening flight, my liege?” Hot Rod’s tone was carefully even, his face blank of expression. He tilted his head.
“Early, early morning would be more accurate.” Megatron grunted as he crouched on the thick branch, all the better not to loom over Hot Rod. “But no, I haven’t the energy left for a flight.” The climb alone had taken more out of him than he expected.
“Paperwork that exhausting?”
“Far so more than anything else.”
Hot Rod’s lips twitched as they might toward a smile. “Then what brings you up here tonight?”
“You.”
Hot Rod visibly startled, and it took him a moment regain his composure. “Have I misbehaved?”
Megatron exhaled. “I wanted to apologize,” he said. “For my behavior earlier. I jumped to conclusions and took out my frustrations on you. It was unseemly, especially for a liege, to behave in such a manner, and you did not deserve it.”
“I see.” Hot Rod’s gaze remained even. His feet started to swing where they hung in mid-air. “Apology accepted.”
Megatron blinked. He’d expected more of an argument. More of… something. Frenzy had said Hot Rod was upset, and yes, the pretty smol was behaving oddly, but he didn’t appear upset. Hot Rod was not normally the sort to hold back either. No, he very much wore his emotions where all could see them.
“I… Good.” Megatron leaned back, resting his arms over his knees, his talons curling tighter around the perch. He should take the opportunity to return to his nest now, but curiosity made him linger. “What brings you up here tonight?”
Hot Rod chuckled, but it didn’t sound like humor. He looked toward the horizon. “There’s nowhere to sleep.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Drift and Perceptor are occupied. Orion has entered the third phase.” Hot Rod stretched, lifting his legs out in front of him, talons pointing upward. “There must be something in the air, judging by the sounds floating out of Rung and Maximus’ nest.”
“I see.” Megatron gnawed on his bottom lip. As liege, this would be where he offered a place in his own nest for the lonesome smol, but therein lay only pain. “You know, Hot Rod, there are many empty nests in the aerie for you to--”
“Pass.” Hot Rod shifted, hooking his talons on the perch and standing. “I’ll figure something else out.”
Megatron sighed and rubbed a hand over his temples. “Why are you fighting this? I don’t understand you.”
“No. You don’t.” Now it was Hot Rod’s turn to sound frustrated. “Back in my old aerie, a smol didn’t leave the nest until he was mated. Sometimes, not even then if his mate was of lower rank. It goes against everything ingrained in me to live alone.”
“You’re in Kaon now. You can forget those rules.”
Hot Rod shook his head and looked at Megatron. “That’s not the point. I know I can forget those traditions, that doesn’t mean I want to.”
Megatron rubbed harder at his head, feeling an ache behind his temples. Hot Rod perplexed him like no other. “I’d ask what it is you want, but I suspect I already know. The real question is what you’re going to do when you realize it’s never going to happen.”
“Never,” Hot Rod repeated, an odd note to his voice.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing, before he walked the length of his perch toward Megatron. He leapt, landing on the end of Megatron’s branch, within touching distance if Megatron was so inclined.
That ruffling breeze brought to him Hot Rod’s scent, warm and sweet and mineral. He must have just soaked in the springs.
Megatron’s core thumped, his insides twisting and curling with heat. His mouth watered, the urge to draw Hot Rod closer, to feel the lithe body against his, rose up like fire. His groin tightened, clava stirring with interest, as it always did when Hot Rod was involved.
“Is there another you have your eye on, my liege?” Hot Rod asked. It was barely louder than a murmur this time, almost taken by the wind, and Megatron found himself unconsciously leaning closer to catch his words.
“I’ve already told you the answer to that,” Megatron replied. He licked his lips, swearing he could taste Hot Rod on them, though it was only the smol’s scent on the wind.
“You’ve told me a lie.” Hot Rod inched closer, until Megatron felt like he were the one being stalked and not the other way around. The perch creaked.
Megatron growled. “This is about Starscream, isn’t it?” he demanded. Annoyance filtered in through the desire. “I’ve already told you--”
“I know it’s not Starscream,” Hot Rod interrupted with a low growl of his own. “But there has to be someone else.”
“Why? Because you can’t stand thinking there’s someone prettier than you?” Megatron rolled his eyes. His plumage fluffed with irritation. “Or is it that you’re so convinced you’re irresistible? Maybe you’d prefer that I liked someone, anyone, so long as I chose them over choosing to be alone rather than with you. Is that it?”
Hot Rod’s eyes went narrow and hard, like the nearby pond frozen in the brief, but harsh winter month. “You think I’m that shallow?”
“I don’t know what you are.” Megatron shifted toward Hot Rod, a cramp in his thighs urging that he stand, but he didn’t want to come across as aggressive. Words would have to do. “All I know is I’m tired of being chased, and you’re someone who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
Hot Rod reared back, his feathers fluffing around him as though in self-defense. He backtracked on the branch, which swayed alarmingly, forcing his talons to dig in deeper.
“Frag your apology,” Hot Rod hissed, and fell back another step, every limb trembling with anger. “Because the last time I checked, you came up here to me.”
Clarity returned a moment too late.
Hot Rod dropped down from the ledge, spreading his wings to slow his fall, before Megatron could even speak. He didn’t look up as he stormed away. To where, Megatron did not know. Hot Rod had no nest, and he’d already stated his usual sleeping arrangements were unavailable to him.
Adaptus save him.
Megatron stood to ease the cramps in his legs and scrubbed hard at his temples. The harder he tried, the harder he failed. Why could he not have a normal conversation with Hot Rod?
Another growl slipped past his lips. Megatron stared down through the leaves, but Hot Rod was already gone from sight. It was safe, then, for Megatron to descend and seek out his own nest.
Clearly, he was not fit company tonight.
***
a/n: Ah, Megatron. You just keep making mistakes. XD
Universe: Flights of Fancy
Characters: Megatron/Rodimus, Soundwave, Shockwave/Orion Pax, Drift/Perceptor, Starscream, Ensemble
Rating: M
Enticements: Harpyformers AU, Sexual Content, Romance, Unrequited Love, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: If asked, Liege Megatron of the Kaon Aerie would say his life was perfect. With a content, growing flock to manage, he had nothing to worry about. Loneliness was part of a Liege’s life, he’d decided. Until the bright-spirited Hot Rod comes along, determined to be the exception to the rule.
Megatron couldn’t hide from his paperwork forever.
Two months into Orion’s carry, where the swell of the egg was finally noticeable to the discerning eye, Megatron thought he was safe. He assumed Orion would be too distracted by the growing life within him to send Megatron disapproving looks about the state of affairs of his desk.
He should have expected Orion would recruit help.
“Plans for today?” Soundwave asked as he woke Megatron and handed him a bowl of peaches and oats for breakfast.
Megatron blinked blearily up at his Speaker. It seemed far too early to be awake, though the light streaming in through his balcony confirmed it was time. Perhaps he shouldn’t have stayed up so late, sharing a bottle of fermented honey with Soundwave. Of course Soundwave would be here, bright and early and chipper – for Soundwave.
His Speaker could drink an entire case of mead and not so much as wobble. Then again, behind the mask, Soundwave could be foggy-eyed and barely alert, and no one would ever know.
Megatron had often heard the humans accusing the harpies of having some kind of special magic. He wondered if, in this case, it were true. No mortal harpy should be able to drink that much and walk away!
“Lay around in the nest and recover from last night?” Megatron replied as he glared at the bowl of oats. He wasn’t sure his churning stomach was ready for food. He reached for the cup of water instead.
Soundwave chuckled, raspy though it was.
“You’re a lightweight, Megatron,” Buzzsaw chirped from his brother’s shoulder, still small enough to accomplish that without throwing Soundwave off balance.
Megatron groaned and lay back, throwing his arm wing over his eyes. “Soundwave, your minion is insulting me.”
“Plans for today?” Soundwave repeated, but he wasn’t so cruel. He nudged a clump of something into Megatron’s other hand, which if there truly was a god watching over them, it was salica.
Megatron sighed. “You’re asking me only because you already know what I’m going to be doing today, which has nothing to do with what I had planned.” He sat up and shoved the bundle into his mouth, grimacing at the bitter bark which was, indeed, willow.
“Correct,” Soundwave replied and Buzzsaw chittered a laugh, burying his face against the side of Soundwave’s head.
Megatron rubbed at his temples with the heel of his palm. “Very well. What is it?”
“Your office misses you,” Buzzsaw said.
Megatron resisted the urge to pull a blanket over his head. “Paperwork. You expect me to spend all day squinting at paperwork in my condition?”
“Precisely.” Soundwave tried to hand him the bowl of oats again.
Megatron waved them off and when Soundwave set them aside, Buzzsaw hopped down from his shoulder and toddled over to the bowl.
“Can’t have it go to waste,” he said and curled around the bowl, shoving huge handfuls of it into his mouth.
Megatron’s lips quirked in a grin. That Buzzsaw was starting to get comfortable around him warmed Megatron’s core. Of all Soundwave’s rescued siblings, Buzzsaw had always been the most clingy and rarely spoke in front of others. When not attached to Soundwave, he was hiding with his twin, often somewhere in the ceiling.
Both Laserbeak and Buzzsaw were small for their age. Very small. It made Megatron wonder if perhaps they were fledges bought or stolen from the pygmy tribe. Not that either would know. They couldn’t remember their parents or their original aerie, as they were too young at the time they found themselves in human confinement.
The dull ache in Megatron’s head started to fade. At least the salica was working. “Well then,” he said, and pulled himself to his feet. “I suppose I’d better get to work.”
“Good choice,” Soundwave said, humor rich in his tone.
“Let Buzzsaw finish my breakfast. I’ll eat later when my stomach doesn’t feel like it’s trying to crawl out of my throat,” Megatron said as he stretched. His spine popped and crackled like a harpy twice his age.
“Noted.”
Megatron left them in his nest, thinking longingly of another dose of salica and a barrel of cold water, when he nearly collided with someone just outside his door. He snatched at the poor harpy’s shoulders to keep them both from tumbling to the floor, and found himself staring into Hot Rod’s startled blue eyes.
“Sir!”
“My apologies, Hot Rod, I had something of a long night.” Megatron snatched his hands back and put distance between them. “Carry on.”
“I’m actually standing out here to catch you,” Hot Rod said, and only then did Megatron notice the armful of documents he carried. “I was told to make sure you found your way to your office this morning.”
Megatron almost rolled his eyes. “Let me guess: Orion gave you this mission?”
“Is it so obvious?” Hot Rod chuckled. “Though I don’t think I’m physically capable of making you do anything, so I guess I’ll just have to ask real nicely.”
Heat throbbed through Megatron’s core as Hot Rod’s last words turned into something closer to a rolling purr. With it came a cheeky grin and a wink and Megatron’s hungover senses could only interpret the signs as ‘want.’
He firmly smacked down the impulses and hung a sign over the cage he stuck them inside. ‘Can’t have.’
“Fine.” Megatron rubbed at his forehead again. “I know when I’m defeated. I’ll do my paperwork.” He turned down the slope and started toward his office. If anyone asked, he absolutely did not trudge.
“Awww. I didn’t even get to use my secret weapon,” Hot Rod said as he caught up to Megatron with a few happy skips, his feathers bright and fluttering around his face. “Orion told me I could use any means necessary. I think he meant it, too.”
Megatron managed a chuckle. “He is far too aware of the methods I use to avoid work I consider tedious.”
“So getting drunk was part of the plan?”
“That was Soundwave’s fault.”
Hot Rod snickered and juggled his armful of scrolls and papers. “I don’t think anyone’s going to believe that.”
“Anyone but Orion would.” Megatron sighed theatrically and rubbed at the back of his neck. “He’s going to lay in a few weeks, and yet he concerns himself with his duty. I’m going to have to force him to take fledge leave, aren’t I?”
Some of the bounce vanished from Hot Rod’s step. “Probably.” His pace slowed a little, and Megatron dropped back to match it. “You’d know him better than I do.”
“I’ve known him for a long time,” Megatron agreed and eyed Hot Rod carefully, in between watching the path ahead of them. The last thing he needed was to collide with someone else in his flock. “Familiarity comes with the territory.”
“How long?”
“Have I known Orion? We grew up together.” Megatron smiled softly, thinking of the awkward bara who’d been one of the first to extend a hand of friendship, so genuinely Megatron hadn’t known Orion was royalty until his parents told him. “He’d had the world handed to him since hatching, and he never took that for granted.”
Hot Rod clutched the papers tighter. “Oh. That makes sense then.”
“What does?”
Hot Rod shrugged. “Just how you know each other is all.” He smiled at Megatron, but it was blinding for its dishonesty. “I’ve never had any friends like that. It must be nice.”
“I am not afraid to admit that I am very lucky to still have him in my life, and Soundwave as well, who I’ve known since sub-adulthood,” Megatron said.
They hit the ground floor and arrived at his office. Megatron tried not to groan with disappointment and ducked into the open doorway, the stack of papers waiting for him tilting ominously in his inbox. No wonder both Orion and Soundwave had been adamant.
Couldn’t he just get one of the harpies in his flock to do this tedious work? He was Liege, damn it. He should be out… leading! Mingling! Not sitting behind a desk scrawling his signature and reading inventory lists and drafting yet another version of the Kaon charter.
Yes, Megatron was well aware he should have finished the charter years ago.
Megatron sighed and dropped into his chair, his quill so dry he’d be better off cutting a new one. He hadn’t capped his ink pot either, which meant it was sludge by now.
“Oh, damn,” he said with an exaggerated exhale. “I’m out of ink. I suppose I can’t do this work after all.”
There was a small clunk as Hot Rod set an inkpot on a clear spot on his desk, and then tumbled the scrolls and papers he carried next to it. “Orion thinks of everything,” he said with a laugh.
“He’s pure evil,” Megatron groaned, but he immediately pulled out a basket of molted flight feathers – some of his own, some belonging to others. He rifled through them, looking for one he could easily cut to make a quill.
“Well, someone needs to look out for you,” Hot Rod said.
“He’s going to have a hatchling soon. He needs to start worrying about that,” Megatron grunted as he selected one he thought would work and shoved the basket back onto the shelf. “I can take care of myself.”
Hot Rod tucked his hands behind his back. “Of course you can. But you are Liege. Even the best of leaders need someone to keep them balanced.”
It sounded like a recitation. Megatron tilted his head, looking up at the pretty smol, Starscream’s words echoing in the back of his mind. He couldn’t imagine Hot Rod was royal. Hot Rod’s behavior didn’t seem to match such a thought. But sometimes… sometimes Hot Rod said things and the wondering returned.
“That’s what I have Soundwave for.” Megatron pulled out a quill knife to start dressing the feather. “I have no qualms about seeking the advice of others.”
Hot Rod gnawed on his bottom lip. “That’s not the same. Advisors and the like, they can help you lead, but they can’t help you.” He bounced on the heels of his tarsals. “You need someone to keep you grounded, or lift you up when you fall.”
Megatron very pointedly did not look up at Hot Rod. He kept his gaze focused on the quill. “And I suppose you have someone in mind?”
“I’m not talking about me, frag it. I just--” Hot Rod broke off with a frustrated growl. “Never mind. Liege Megatron knows best after all.”
Megatron frowned and looked up at Hot Rod, but the smol had backed toward the doorway. “That’s not what I meant to imply.”
“It’s exactly what you meant,” Hot Rod snapped, and there was a fierceness in his tone Megatron rarely heard from the pretty smol. He dropped his head in a hasty bow. “I’ll be back later for the finished scrolls, sir.”
And then he was gone, ducking under the curtain of Megatron’s door in a flutter of bright orange and red feathers. He moved so quickly he loosed the tie holding the fabric back, and Megatron’s door fell shut.
Megatron spilled a curse under his breath. He sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand down his face, fingers pinching above the bridge of his nose. He was always misstepping with Hot Rod, wasn’t he? Couldn’t he have a normal conversation with the smol? Would there always be this tension?
He couldn’t think. His head hurt too much. He needed a pitcher of water and another handful of willow.
He needed everything to start making sense.
Despite claiming he would, Hot Rod did not return that day. Instead, Frenzy showed up later to drop off more paperwork and take what Megatron had completed back to Orion.
“What did ya do to hot stuff, boss?” Frenzy asked as he hopped upon a stool to dump his armload onto Megatron’s desk, sending scrolls rolling in all directions.
Megatron grabbed a stack and plopped it down in front of Frenzy. “These go back to Orion, kiddo.”
“Doesn’t answer my question, boss.”
“I know. I was ignoring you.” Megatron tugged the nearest scroll closer and unrolled it.
He sighed at the sight of another supply requisition log. Orion was torturing him with these on purpose. It was punishment for avoiding his tedious work for too long.
Frenzy released a long, exaggerated sigh. “Oh, come on, boss. Give me some of that good gossip. Kid fire is moping around like someone stole his best friend and if you sign that paper any harder, you’ll tear it.”
Megatron dropped the quill and looked at Frenzy. “Hot Rod is upset?”
“Yeah, like ya didn’t know that.” Frenzy scoffed and rolled his eyes. He bounced on the heels of his feet, pale purple feathers rustling around him. “Would solve everyone’s problems if ya’d just mate ‘im already, ya know. Especially if ya do it… in the next week? Yeah.”
Megatron rubbed at his forehead. “I take it you’ve placed a bet.”
“Now would I do a thing like that?” Frenzy feigned shock. “I’m hurt, boss. Hurt to my core.” He thumped his chest before he scooped up the pile Megatron had indicated was for Orion. “In fact, I’m so offended that I’m just going to leave.” He huffed and leapt down from the stool, striding toward the door. Only, he paused and gave Megatron a look. “And bro says not to stay up all night. You can work all day tomorrow, too.”
“How kind of him,” Megatron drawled.
Frenzy grinned like the cheeky sub-adult he was and flounced out the door, nearly losing one of the papers from the stack as he did so.
Megatron shook his head and resumed staring at the stacks of documents and scrolls. They seemed never-ending, and it was already getting late. The sun had ceased to cast rays through his windows, and he now worked by the flickering glow of the lightning jars.
One more hour, Megatron told himself. One more hour and he’d collapse in his nest to sleep peacefully. Or be haunted with dreams of dancing scrolls and quills and an ever looming and larger Soundwave.
It had happened before.
Megatron chuckled, pulled out a snack of dried figs, and returned to work.
The sounds of the wind rustling through the leaves accompanied him, as did that of his aerie slowly settling in for the night. He heard the whistles of the night guard communicating to one another: the two at the ground floor entrance and the two perched on the roof. The sweet smell of dough floated to his nose, set out overnight to rise by the morning.
He worked for an hour and not a moment longer. Then he rose to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, his entire body stiff. He looked at the nub of his quill and tossed it into the bin. He’d have to carve a new one tomorrow.
His aerie was still and soft with quiet. It was both soothing and reassuring. Perhaps strange considering his former aerie had been one that was always busy and never silent. There were too many residents to manage it peacefully.
Megatron didn’t miss the chaos at all. His parents, yes. Everything else? Not so much.
Megatron doused the jars and slipped out of his office, tugging the curtain shut behind him. Humans, he knew, had to lock their rooms and their buildings and their offices. Here, that wasn’t a problem. His flock shared everything, and what one didn’t have, it was acquired for them. What need was there for theft?
Most of the lightning jars had been extinguished, Megatron noticed as he started the slow climb upward, toward the main residential levels. There was enough light to see by, but there was something almost quixotic about the flickering shadows and the rustling of the leaves in a growing wind.
Megatron sniffed. Perhaps another storm?
He mentally reviewed who was on guard tonight. Bulkhead and Roadbuster at the ground entrance; Cyclonus and Whirl on the roof. The former two were the best of friends, the latter two… Megatron only hoped he wouldn’t need to separate them again. Who’d agreed to that pair-up?
Megatron looked up, trying to spot Cyclonus and Whirl through the woven netting protecting the highest ceiling from various leaf and branch falls. He did not see the two guards, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but even in the dim of the late night, he spotted the bright splash of orange and red. There was no other in his flock with coloration so bright, like living flame.
Hot Rod clung to one of the upper perches, his tail feathers draping down behind him. His head tilted back as though he looked up at the stars. There was a slump to his shoulders, and something in his posture suggested sorrow.
Megatron slowed to a stop. He contemplated. He remembered Frenzy’s words, and the guilt came crashing back. The more he tried to keep from hurting Hot Rod, the more damage he did.
He couldn’t just walk away. He would be a poor liege if he left one of his own to sadness. At the very least, he should apologize. Again. It seemed all he was doing as of late was apologizing to Hot Rod.
Megatron climbed to the top rather than fly, using one of the many handholds built into the aerie’s base structure. He pulled up onto a perch near Hot Rod’s, though the smol’s current one was big enough to share. Megatron was far too large to approach quietly, so by the time he arrived at Hot Rod’s level, those bright blue eyes were focused on him.
“Out for an evening flight, my liege?” Hot Rod’s tone was carefully even, his face blank of expression. He tilted his head.
“Early, early morning would be more accurate.” Megatron grunted as he crouched on the thick branch, all the better not to loom over Hot Rod. “But no, I haven’t the energy left for a flight.” The climb alone had taken more out of him than he expected.
“Paperwork that exhausting?”
“Far so more than anything else.”
Hot Rod’s lips twitched as they might toward a smile. “Then what brings you up here tonight?”
“You.”
Hot Rod visibly startled, and it took him a moment regain his composure. “Have I misbehaved?”
Megatron exhaled. “I wanted to apologize,” he said. “For my behavior earlier. I jumped to conclusions and took out my frustrations on you. It was unseemly, especially for a liege, to behave in such a manner, and you did not deserve it.”
“I see.” Hot Rod’s gaze remained even. His feet started to swing where they hung in mid-air. “Apology accepted.”
Megatron blinked. He’d expected more of an argument. More of… something. Frenzy had said Hot Rod was upset, and yes, the pretty smol was behaving oddly, but he didn’t appear upset. Hot Rod was not normally the sort to hold back either. No, he very much wore his emotions where all could see them.
“I… Good.” Megatron leaned back, resting his arms over his knees, his talons curling tighter around the perch. He should take the opportunity to return to his nest now, but curiosity made him linger. “What brings you up here tonight?”
Hot Rod chuckled, but it didn’t sound like humor. He looked toward the horizon. “There’s nowhere to sleep.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Drift and Perceptor are occupied. Orion has entered the third phase.” Hot Rod stretched, lifting his legs out in front of him, talons pointing upward. “There must be something in the air, judging by the sounds floating out of Rung and Maximus’ nest.”
“I see.” Megatron gnawed on his bottom lip. As liege, this would be where he offered a place in his own nest for the lonesome smol, but therein lay only pain. “You know, Hot Rod, there are many empty nests in the aerie for you to--”
“Pass.” Hot Rod shifted, hooking his talons on the perch and standing. “I’ll figure something else out.”
Megatron sighed and rubbed a hand over his temples. “Why are you fighting this? I don’t understand you.”
“No. You don’t.” Now it was Hot Rod’s turn to sound frustrated. “Back in my old aerie, a smol didn’t leave the nest until he was mated. Sometimes, not even then if his mate was of lower rank. It goes against everything ingrained in me to live alone.”
“You’re in Kaon now. You can forget those rules.”
Hot Rod shook his head and looked at Megatron. “That’s not the point. I know I can forget those traditions, that doesn’t mean I want to.”
Megatron rubbed harder at his head, feeling an ache behind his temples. Hot Rod perplexed him like no other. “I’d ask what it is you want, but I suspect I already know. The real question is what you’re going to do when you realize it’s never going to happen.”
“Never,” Hot Rod repeated, an odd note to his voice.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing, before he walked the length of his perch toward Megatron. He leapt, landing on the end of Megatron’s branch, within touching distance if Megatron was so inclined.
That ruffling breeze brought to him Hot Rod’s scent, warm and sweet and mineral. He must have just soaked in the springs.
Megatron’s core thumped, his insides twisting and curling with heat. His mouth watered, the urge to draw Hot Rod closer, to feel the lithe body against his, rose up like fire. His groin tightened, clava stirring with interest, as it always did when Hot Rod was involved.
“Is there another you have your eye on, my liege?” Hot Rod asked. It was barely louder than a murmur this time, almost taken by the wind, and Megatron found himself unconsciously leaning closer to catch his words.
“I’ve already told you the answer to that,” Megatron replied. He licked his lips, swearing he could taste Hot Rod on them, though it was only the smol’s scent on the wind.
“You’ve told me a lie.” Hot Rod inched closer, until Megatron felt like he were the one being stalked and not the other way around. The perch creaked.
Megatron growled. “This is about Starscream, isn’t it?” he demanded. Annoyance filtered in through the desire. “I’ve already told you--”
“I know it’s not Starscream,” Hot Rod interrupted with a low growl of his own. “But there has to be someone else.”
“Why? Because you can’t stand thinking there’s someone prettier than you?” Megatron rolled his eyes. His plumage fluffed with irritation. “Or is it that you’re so convinced you’re irresistible? Maybe you’d prefer that I liked someone, anyone, so long as I chose them over choosing to be alone rather than with you. Is that it?”
Hot Rod’s eyes went narrow and hard, like the nearby pond frozen in the brief, but harsh winter month. “You think I’m that shallow?”
“I don’t know what you are.” Megatron shifted toward Hot Rod, a cramp in his thighs urging that he stand, but he didn’t want to come across as aggressive. Words would have to do. “All I know is I’m tired of being chased, and you’re someone who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
Hot Rod reared back, his feathers fluffing around him as though in self-defense. He backtracked on the branch, which swayed alarmingly, forcing his talons to dig in deeper.
“Frag your apology,” Hot Rod hissed, and fell back another step, every limb trembling with anger. “Because the last time I checked, you came up here to me.”
Clarity returned a moment too late.
Hot Rod dropped down from the ledge, spreading his wings to slow his fall, before Megatron could even speak. He didn’t look up as he stormed away. To where, Megatron did not know. Hot Rod had no nest, and he’d already stated his usual sleeping arrangements were unavailable to him.
Adaptus save him.
Megatron stood to ease the cramps in his legs and scrubbed hard at his temples. The harder he tried, the harder he failed. Why could he not have a normal conversation with Hot Rod?
Another growl slipped past his lips. Megatron stared down through the leaves, but Hot Rod was already gone from sight. It was safe, then, for Megatron to descend and seek out his own nest.
Clearly, he was not fit company tonight.
a/n: Ah, Megatron. You just keep making mistakes. XD
