Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Megatron knew this was a bad idea the moment his processor conjured the image of a hot cup of mixed crystal energon but slag these Autobots if he wasn’t about to find himself the best cup that Iacon could offer. It was turning out to be more difficult than he had originally imagined the task to be. 

In an effort to be fair, unlike the Autobots, he had first tried the coffee offered in the facilities the Senate had provided for peace treaty re-negotiations. It tasted like Unicorn himself had devised it as a poison. He immediately offered the rest of the cup to Starscream and both of them had ended up covered in the pit slagged poison by the end of it. His next idea was to send Starscream or Soundwave out into the city but quickly realized that not only were those two as notorious as him, they 

a) wouldn’t be able to return while the energon was hot 

b) wouldn’t know where to start and 

c) either wouldn’t care about taste (Starscream) or would use the taste to conceal some actual poison (Starscream). 

So screw the Autobot guards and their Senate control freaks, Megatron was going out into the streets of Iacon to find his energon. And he had done just that these past 5 solar cycles to no avail. Something was wrong with literally every cup he had. Maybe Cybertronian energy just didn’t taste right to him anymore, maybe the crystals weren’t grown correctly, maybe every mech who made it had been too scared to do the job properly. Megatron didn’t know and he was starting to not care. This cafe was the last one he would go to, his last stop before ceasing this useless endeavor when he could just wait it out and get a wonderful cup at his office in New Kaon. 

Megatron ex-vented as he opened the large door to the homely establishment on the edge of Iacon. It wasn’t large but also by no means small, making it adequate for his large war frame but not big enough that many mechs would stick around to occupy the space. To add on the appeal, it was in a working class area of the city, meaning not as many mechs were worried about who was there. There were several seats scattered around a small assortment of energon goodies behind a glass case near the front. His optics roamed the neat scrawl on the menu board before turning to the waiting cashmech. Before his whole frame seemed to freeze as he gazed into the signature blue color of Autobot optics, but they were not what froze it. It wasn’t even the beautiful faceplates of the mech that could have been sculpted after Primus himself. Not what really struck him was the frankly absurdly long and adorably cute blue finials that were currently perked up straight and close to the mech’s helm. 

Optimus knew he always wanted to be part of the Elite Guard. Growing up on Cybertron had essentially chosen the life of an Autobot for him, so trying to be the best was his choice. Unfortunately, even in the golden city of Iacon, there had to be people to paint the shining image on. Optimus just hadn’t realized that would be him until he was older, but still a young long thrust out from his home and care-takers by their early demise. He’d bounced from home to home and eventually started his own little family with a youngling he took under his wing. While Iacon did not recognize their familial ties, Optimus and Bumblebee chose to do so on their own. That however meant Optimus not only had to pay his way through the academy, but he was supporting his younger brother who was set to start soon as well. Not to mention the messes Sentinel kept dragging him into. Optimus was actually stated to think he would never graduate, not before Bee at least, and certainly not before the price of energon became too much for him to afford. 

So slag the academy, Optimus had gotten a job at the cafe near where he lived. The owners were old mechs who were nice, paid well, and worked around his schedule. Optimus had the menu memorized in a week and a loyal group of customers who were definitely shady. But it felt more like home than the academy ever did and Bee could stop by to hang out when Optimus worked a late shift.  

It also gave him a sense of peace in routine. Until this big silver bucket headed mech decided today was the perfect day to mess it up. Nobody came in from 3-3:30 on a Wednesday, they didn’t want a sugar rush to keep them up in the middle of a week night. Except, apparently, Megatron the war tyrant, the conqueror, the leader of the Decepticons who was currently supposed to be negotiating amendments to the vorns long peace treaty. Instead of being in the Senate meeting buildings he was here, in Optimus’s cafe and apparently asking for a large cup of hot crystal energon and trying not to focus all his attention on Optimus’s finials. 

Well slag him if he’d never seen an Iaconian tragger finial. Yes, they were rare to see on mechs these days but that didn’t mean it gave everyone permission to stare at them. 

Optimus huffed. “You better not be taking a screen recording without permission. I don’t know how Decepticons do it but in Iacon the fine is 200 shanix.” His finials flicked irritably as he did so but also trying to keep back the nervous twitches he knew they were prone to producing. He was already annoyed at how this interaction was going. He then turned around to start making the slagger’s energon and was determined to otherwise ignore him. 

Megatron heard the bot’s words and only had amusement but he melted at the finials whose nervous little twitches gave away so much more than the words did. His spark pulsed faster than when he had last faced Ultra Magnus in battle. He was in love, there were no other words for it. 

Chapter Text

It was the best crystal energon he’d ever had. He couldn’t even taste it and knew it was cold when he asked for hot. He didn’t care, it would forever be the best thing he’d tasted in his long and miserable existence. Just like those finials were the most adorable thing he had ever seen. He couldn’t stop needing the both they were attached to. He wanted to drink his ice cold energon and run his digits along those blue, no doubt sensitive, audials for the rest of his days. 

Which was why mid-solar cycle he turned to his SIC and TIC and his general. Hmmmm…he was starting to think he should have brought Shockwave simply for the intimidation factor. 

“I’m going to insist on adding Botnapping into the new treaty.” His audials were immediately hit with screeching voices, none louder than Starscream's of course. 

“My Lord vou cannot do this! It is not necessary when we have continued it for years.” Ah thank you Strika.

”This will be detrimental to both sides. It is a tradition that no longer supports the cause.”  Yes Soundwave, he knew this. 

“Why?” Ah Starscream had calmed down fairly quickly. “You have a crush don’t you.” Curse that quick processor of his. He’d been clamping onto Megatron’s weaknesses for the past 4 million or so years, why wouldn’t this be any different. 

The screeching flier was already drafting a proposal. No doubt hoping Megatron’s foray into romance would either kill him from embarrassment or distract him enough to death or worse, retirement. 

Magnus was, predictably, irate at the idea. It was an old, slightly archaic tradition to be sure. And while it started with higher class mechs, in the past 10 or so million years it had been more linked to the lower class of Tarn and Kaon. Which made it perfect as a dual sort of revenge. He brought back a culture and tradition of what overall became the Decepticon cause and pissed Magnus off to no end. Starscream and Strika seemed to be enjoying it as well, Soundwave was almost imperceptible as well but the closed EM field had a tingle of delight upon seeing Starscream’s proposal. 

It was fairly simple and stuck to the overall tradition behind the concept of botnapping. One mech had a crush on another, especially a mech of a different faction or class. They would bring the mech back, unharmed, to their home and had 4 orbital cycles to convince the mech to stay. There would be no force, only simple love and persuasion. And of course, no outside contact for the mech that had been botnapped. Everything was provided for, everything taken care of. The mechs would have a shared living space but separate rooms. Gifts were also given. A happy coupling usually ended up with a spark bond, and Primus giving it was quickly followed by sparkling. Megatron could see it now, little grey sparkling with those big finials that blue mech had. That blue mech…..

Slag

Megatron never got his name. 

Well he’d learn it soon enough. The first and most major part of a bot nap was safely and comfortably taking the bot. Friends and family could intervene at the time but once he had the blue and red mech locked away there would be nothing they could do. It would be much easier than just telling the little thing that he liked him.

Right?

Well it would definitely be easier once he got it codified into the treaty. 

Somehow or another it had worked. Megatron really didn’t remember most of the negations, too caught up in daydreams of little pedes. Starscream had been doing a remarkable job really. Maybe he had an Autobot he fancied too? Not likely, after all he still had Thundercracker and Skywarp to look at for. But the terms were overall coming to their favor, they’d only needed to trade a few abandoned moons with old Autobot bases that would soon be cleared of anything valuable and returned to the original owners. These Autobot really needed to be more specific in their terms. They hadn’t even set strict guidelines regarding where the Decepticons could pull their botnapping schemes or on who. Was this laziness a deficiency of the whole faction or an Ultra Magnus thing? Regardless, Megatron would make sure if his Beloved wished that his studies would include the full course of negotiation tactics, more than that little Elite Guard Academy ever could. 

As it turned out, leading Shockwave back on New Kaon had been good for something. His commander had returned a plethora of information, the most important being a name: Optimus. He’d once been on the short list of Prime candidates but a rich little mechling by the name of Sentinel seemed to have been quashing those chances slowly. Oh well, he wouldn’t need to think about the academy soon. Megatron was eager but he wasn’t naive to the consequences of what he was about to do. Taking an Autobot candidate would leave them ostracized by the rest of the faction. Especially, if he was to be the first in over a million stellar cycles as Megatron intended. In fact, he might have been counting on Optimus realizing the facts of the situation and factoring those into a quick acquiescence to bonding and a hopefully relatively short bot napping time. If he didn’t, Megatron would fulfill his duty to support both him and his kin, but he truly saw only one way this ended well for both of them. 

Speaking of kin, there was a mechling involved. Not Optimus’s, not his sparkling at least. But he had taken the bot and he’d raised him for years. The small yellow both for the file would soon be old enough to enter the academy himself. Megatron almost felt guilty his bid for Optimus would end up hurting this mechling’s future as well. Megatron was sure he could provide them with one 10x as better though. In the meantime, Megatron needed to find someone close to take charge of the not-a-sparkling for the orbital cycles that Optimus would be gone. 

Well, Starscream had already been unusually helpful, what was one more thing. 

“No.”

”This isn’t a request, it's an order. You can even bring your trine mates back from their missions to help if you require it.”

“Fine.”

Again, unusually helpful. 

This was the 5th solar cycle!

The 5th time that Megatron, conqueror of death, destroyer of world, leader of New Kaon stood in Optimus’s cafe at exactly 3:30 pm and ordered a warm crystal energon. Optimus made it cold. He sprinkled 5 crystal shards in. Megatron did say anything about it. He just stared silent and let Optimus work after the first day of trying to engage in conversation and getting the cold shoulder he seemed content to simply stare at the blue and red mech in front of him. He was probably staring at his aft if the warmth Optimus felt there was an indication. It was weird but starting to become part of the routine at this point. 

The door jingled. Ah, there was the next part of his routine. 

“Optimus! Look! I aced my cybertronics final!” Bee exclaimed excitedly, Optimus’s finials straightened at the volume before arching back and away as if to protect the sensitive instruments. It didn’t help. 

Bee quickly took his usual seat and Optimus soon joined him listening to the mechling chat excitedly about his school day. Megatron was still in the cafe but at the entrance of the youngling he’d moved to the corner seat by the window, designed specifically for larger mechs. 

Optimus managed about 2 breems with Bee before work called him back and left the little yellow bot to his drawings and homework. Despite his usually determined study time, Bee was easily distracted. Especially by the large war frame taking up an entire corner of the shop to himself. Megatron soon found large blue optics peeking up from the side of his table. 

“Would you like to join me little one?” The optics didn’t move, but they didn’t squint, as if sizing up the mech in front of him who was at least 10 times his size. 

“I saw you staring at his aft.” Megatron almost spit out his cold energon at the bot’s words. It certainly wasn’t the first thing he thought he’d hear from his future mechling-in-law. He wasn’t quite sure how one responded to that. First thoughts then: “I was. Is that a problem?” 

Bee studied him for several clicks. “I like sweet energon and rust sticks.”

Megatron handed over the candy and spices he’d stashed in his subspace to gift to Optimus. He could always buy more later.