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Minimus had been avoiding Megatron ever since hearing about the hugging incident with the Armor. It was embarrassing enough that he had been caught belting out Andy Williams. Then whacked in the helm so hard his facial insignia had fallen off. News of Megatron being molested by the Armor, believing it was Minimus himself controlling it, was the shame cherry on top of a huge cake of humiliation.
Minimus had sequestered himself in his quarters, re-attaching his insignia and singing along to his mix-tape in a deliberately quiet voice despite the sound proof walls. He cringed at the sound of a knock, abruptly ending his sing-a-long. He was loath to answer it. But there was always a chance it could be an emergency. He double-checked the angle of his facial insignia before answering.
To his dismay he found himself staring up at Megatron.
"Oh, er, Megatron."
Megatron looked just as awkward as Minimus,
"Can I come in?"
Minimus tried not show his reluctance with the idea. Instead he nodded, adhering to laws of courtesy.
"Of course," he motioned Megatron inside, "Would you like me to turn off the music?"
Megatron shook his helm as Bing Crosby continued to sing 'White Christmas' in the background.
"I won't bother you for long," he said, "I just wanted to talk about the... The..."
He couldn't even seem to bring himself to say it. That made things so much worse. The fact the episode had left Megatron too traumatized to even express it.
"That wasn't me," Minimus found himself disrupting Megatron's flailing attempt, "I assure you I would never, never, take such a personal liberty with you. Or anyone. I'm not Rodimus."
Megatron stared at him a moment. During which Minimus acutely desired to vanish through the floor. But then Megatron's features inexplicably softened.
"I know," he said, "In hindsight, I should have known it wasn't you in control of the Armor. But you - it - took me by surprise. And I'm not... Good with affection. I don't... hug."
He looked physically pained as he said it. Minimus sympathized.
"I understand," he said, "I feel exactly the same, believe me."
Megatron nodded with a slight look of relief.
"In any case I wanted to apologize," he said, "For thinking the worst of you."
"It's no problem, really," Minimus assured him, "I'm glad we can put the whole sorry affair behind us."
Megatron was silent for a moment,
"Interesting choice of words."
"Hm?"
"Affair."
Minimus' cheekplates grew hot very quickly. Maybe even hot enough to melt the industrial strength glue he'd used attach his facial insignia. He clamped one hand to it as a precaution.
"Oh, oh, no, I meant..."
"I know what you meant," Megatron interrupted, looking sheepish, "I was attempting humor."
"Oh," Minimus allowed himself to relax, "Oh I see. Ha."
Megatron eyed him quizzically. Minimus' cheekplates re-heated.
"I'm... I'm working on my laugh. I haven't gotten it quite as natural as I'd hoped."
"I'm no expert," Megatron said, "But I think ha is supposed to be plural. Unless the intention was sarcasm. In that case, you were fairly on point."
"I wasn't trying to be sarcastic," Minimus said apologetically.
"Given my horrible joke, it was probably appropriate," Megatron said, "Though maybe it's best to switch topics entirely."
"Yes probably for the best," Minimus agreed eagerly.
Megatron glanced over to where the music was playing from Minimus' console.
"This is Earth music?"
Minimus nodded,
"Swerve made me a compilation. The current track is 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' by Frank Sinatra."
Megatron listened for a moment,
"It's actually quite soothing."
"Would you like to stay and listen?" Minimus asked, not quite stopping himself from adding, "I promise I won't sing."
"From what I hear, you have a lovely voice."
Megatron's comment caused Minimus grimace. Damn Swerve. The whole crew probably knew about Minimus' performance by now.
"Oh, I don't know about that," he stammered by way of answer, "I maybe sound a little better than Rodimus singing karaoke at Swerve's after six Brawns."
Megatron scoffed,
"A dying turbofox would sound better than Rodimus after six Brawns."
"You may have a point," Minimus admitted.
"I would like to stay, if the offer is still valid," Megatron said, "I won't force you to sing, if you extend me the same courtesy."
Minimus gave a somewhat grateful nod,
"Deal."
He motioned to his hab suite's two chairs. Both large enough to accommodate Minimus in the Magnus Armor. Megatron had little trouble settling into one of them. He at least didn't look so comical as Minimus did, hoping into a seat that dwarfed him. But Megatron didn't show any sign of amusement. He simply appeared to be listening to the music. Minimus followed suit.
"This is..." Megatron seemed to searched for words.
"Nice?" Minimus suggested hopefully.
Megatron nodded, thoughtful.
"You know as much as it pains me to say, Rodimus is right. We do finish each other's sentences."
Minimus unwillingly recalled Rodimus' comments from earlier.
"But it doesn't mean anything," he said hastily.
"Of course not," Megatron agreed just as swiftly, "Finishing each other sentences doesn't automatically mean we're..."
"Involved," Minimus blurted, only to cringe, "Sorry."
"Don't apologize. It's nice to be on the same wavelength. Rodimus is just incapable of believing that two compatibly-minded mecha can be in a strictly platonic relationship."
"Platonic," Minimus agreed, "Yes, that's us."
"No romantic feelings whatsoever."
Minimus locked optics with Megatron in a sign of solidarity,
"Absolutely none."
"When we finally kiss good night..." Dean Martin's voice crooned from the console speakers, startling both mecha, "How I'll hate going out in the storm. But if you'll really hold me tight, all the way home I'll be warm..."
Heat once again grazed Minimus' faceplates. He had never realized how intimate the lyrics of this song were. Especially with his optics locked with Megatron's.
"Is, is my insignia askew?" he asked almost hopefully. An lopsided insignia seemed preferable to the notion they were experiencing some sort of sexual tension.
"No," Megatron answered with about as much awkwardness as Minimus felt, "I was just... Never mind."
He whipped his helm off to the side. Minimus stared ahead, tapping his fingers on his knees.
"Fragging Rodimus," Megatron muttered after a moment.
Minimus made a sad noise of agreement.
"But as long as you love me so," Martin sang cheerfully through the ensuing silence, "Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it snow."