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Megatronus wasn’t sure what had woken him first. The faint whirring of cooling fans beside him, or the restless shifting that kept brushing against his frame. Either way, peace had fled the room.
He vented softly, rolling onto his side. Orion was tossing and turning again, his expression scrunched and frustrated. The smaller mech’s frame twisted, his vents puffing tiny sighs as he buried his face deeper into the shared berth.
Megatronus reached out instinctively, wrapping an arm around that fidgeting waist. Maybe a little warmth would settle him. But before he could even pull him close, Orion wriggled out of his hold and turned away.
Megatronus blinked his optics fully online. “...You trying to escape something?” His voice came out low, gravelly from recharge.
No answer, just another small, grumpy huff from the other side of the berth.
“What’s wrong?” he asked more softly, his tone dipping into concern.
Orion’s shoulders lifted in a half shrug. “Dunno,” came the muffled response.
Megatronus sat up slightly, propping himself on one arm. “You don’t know?” He tilted his helm, amusement tugging at his dermas. “Let’s see… are you cold? Too hot? Bad Dream? Energized?”
A tiny snort escaped from the pillow.
He grinned. “No? Hm, hungry?”
That made Orion pause. The restless shifting stopped. Slowly, the younger mech turned over, optics glowing faintly in the dim light.
“…Maybe,” he said carefully. “Energon sounds nice, actually.”
Megatronus raised a brow ridge. “Does it now?” he teased, voice dry.
Orion’s fins flickered, and then he smiled sheepishly. “Yeahh, the crunchy kind I used to make for myself back in Iacon. When it was frozen just right it…” He wiggled his digits. “..snapped when you bit into it. It was perfect. I want that, now.”
Megatronus stared at him for a long second, processing that. “Now?”
Orion nodded, earnest and cute. “Now.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Orion, it’s the middle of the lunar cycle. Every energon stand in Kaon is offline.”
Orion’s voice dropped to a soft, innocent plea. “But I want it now.”
Megatronus gave him a look. “You can’t just—”
“But I’m sparked,” Orion interrupted, optics wide and filled with innocence, though Megatronus knew it wasn't just innocence behind that look. “You wouldn’t deny a… your.. poor, hungry, sparked conjunx, would you?”
Megatronus exhaled sharply through his vents. He looked away, trying to seem unmoved. “You are weaponizing your condition.”
A small servo grabbed at his forearm, tugging lightly. “Please? I’ll be really good while you’re gone. Promise.”
Primus help him. He was doomed.
Megatronus groaned and fell back against the berth with a dramatic sigh. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”
“I do,” Orion chirped immediately, beaming.
Megatronus laughed under his breath, the sound warm and low. “Fine. I’ll go. You win.”
Orion’s whole frame lit up, his audial fins fluttering in delight. “Thank you! You’re the best!”
“I know,” he muttered, leaning over to press a soft kiss against Orion’s cheek. “Stay put, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.”
Orion hummed happily, curling back into the berth. “Hurry back,” he mumbled sleepily. “We’ll both be waiting.”
Megatronus lingered for a moment, optics softening as he watched him settle. Then he rose from the berth, stretching until his joints clicked quietly.
He had planned to rest all through the lunar cycle for his match tomorrow. But for Orion? For that look? A few scratches no longer seem too bad, even if Orion would growl him for not being prepared. But hey, it's not his fault.
So, out into the lunar cycle he went, into the quiet hum of Kaon’s streets. The faint glow of buildings could be seen in the distance. He was already running calculations, tracing the route to the closest and possibly open enrgon stand, remembering which street might still hold those frozen crunchy energon things Orion loved.
He smiled faintly to himself as he walked. If he was being completely honest, he wasn't even sure if Kaon had crunchy energon.
But then he remembered the way Orion had looked up at him. Those beautiful blue optics wide and hopeful. Those dermas pressed into that tiny pleading smile.
Yeah. It was worth it.
By the time he returned, he promised himself, Orion would be curled in his arms again, fast asleep, with a full tank to ensure he had a good rest.
The air outside was cool for Kaon, the faint glow painting the streets in violet and crimson. Megatronus started down the empty lane. Primus, he’s got me wrapped around his little servo, he thought, dermas twitching.
The first shop came into view, a small round the clock stand wedged between two repair garages. Its neon sign flickered like a half dead spark. The clerk behind the counter looked half recharged himself.
Megatronus leaned down slightly. “You wouldn’t happen to have any energon shards? Crunchy?”
The clerk blinked, then shook his head. “Out for the night, shipment from Iacon didn’t come in.”
“Of course it didn’t,” Megatronus muttered. “Thanks.”
He moved on.
The second place was across the district. A slick, upscale energon bar that looked like it liked to pretend it wasn’t in Kaon. The door chimed as he stepped inside. A couple of miners blinked up at him, probably wondering what the Pit the champion of Kaon was doing in a place that served drinks with fruit garnishes.
The bartender smiled nervously. “Can I… help you, sir?”
“Energon shards,” Megatronus said, keeping it simple. “Crunchy.”
The bartender winced. “Ah… we had some, but a customer bought the last batch a cycle ago.”
Megs pinched the bridge of his nose. “Naturally.”
He thanked the mech and left again.
By the time he reached the third shop, his vents were practically puffing visible heat. It was a family run stall tucked under a bridge, faint light glowing from within. An older femme peeked out.
“Evening,” she said kindly.
He almost hated to ask again, but Orion’s soft please kept echoing in his helm. “Do you carry energon shards? Crunchy?”
She gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, dear. Those young workers cleaned me out earlier. Not a shard left.”
Megatronus just stared for a moment, then laughed quietly, a low, disbelieving sound that startled even him. “Figures.”
Three shops, three rejections. For a moment he just stood there, servos on his hips, staring at the quiet street. The rational part of his processor whispered that he could just go home, wake Orion with a kiss, tell him everything was closed. But another part, the soft, ridiculous part that Orion always managed to reach, wouldn’t let him quit.
He looked east, toward the faint lights beyond the distant ridges. It wasn’t that far. Not for him.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his helm. “You owe me for this, love,” he murmured, and transformed.
His vents hissed with irritation as he stomped up to the door, helm low, muttering under his breath. “Three different places. Three. For crunchy energon. Unbelievable.”
He didn’t even bother knocking lightly, he slammed on the door. The metal echoed down the corridor.
A few moments later, the door slid open with a slow hiss, revealing Soundwave, frame relaxed, clearly not expecting visitors.
Megatronus didn’t even greet him. He stared straight at the silent mech and said flatly, “Do you know how to cook?”
Soundwave tilted his helm slightly, the tiniest flicker of blue running across his face. No answer.
That was all Megatronus needed.
“Good.”
And with that, he brushed right past him, pushing into the apartment without another word.
Soundwave didn’t move to stop him, just turned his helm slowly as the larger mech stormed through the doorway, heavy pedesteps echoing across the floor.
Megatronus stopped in the middle of the room, servos on his hips, scanning around like he had a mission. “Primus, you’d think one energon shop that actually had energon in stock would stay open past curfew. But no, of course not. Not when he decides he’s craving something specific.”
He turned back toward Soundwave, who was still standing in the doorway, silent and motionless.
“What?” Megatronus snapped, exasperated. “Don’t give me that look. He’s sparked and hungry. What was I supposed to do? Say no?”
Soundwave’s visor flickered once, faint amusement, maybe judgment. Hard to tell.
Megatronus groaned and rubbed his optics. “Look, I just need your help, alright? You’re quiet, you’re efficient, you’ve probably got ingredients stored somewhere…”
Still no response. Just a faint head tilt.
Megatronus threw his servos up. “Fine! Don’t answer. I’ll find them myself.”
He stalked further inside like he owned the place, opening a few storage cabnits before realizing he had no idea what he was looking for.
Behind him, Soundwave finally stepped forward, his plating gleaming faintly.
Megatronus froze mid search, half expecting to be thrown out, but instead, Soundwave just stood beside him, wordless as ever, and pointed silently to a storage compartment near the wall.
“…That one?” Megatronus asked, glancing over.
A single nod.
Megatronus smirked slightly. “Knew you’d cave eventually.”
Soundwave’s responded with a silent sigh, basically the equivalent of an optic roll.
The storage compartment hissed open, revealing a jumble of half used energon rations, a few vials of additives, and something that vaguely resembled cooking tools. Megatronus squinted at them. “...This’ll do.”
He grabbed a container and plopped it on the counter. Soundwave just stood beside him, visor dim but pulsing faintly, the kind of look that said this is going to be a disaster, and I’m watching purely for entertainment.
“Alright,” Megatronus muttered, “how hard can it be? Just heat it, cook it, done.”
He turned on the thermal burner. A flicker. A spark. Then a pop.
Soundwave's plating shook slightly, like he was holding in a laugh.
Megatronus glared at it. “Don’t start.”
A distorted playback echoed softly from Soundwave.
“Don’t start.”
Megatronus whipped his helm around. “Did you just—?”
Soundwave tilted his helm innocently.
Megatronus groaned. “You’re lucky you’re quiet most of the time.”
He poured a chunk of raw energon into a pan, it hissed and crackled, sparking briefly. He flinched, just slightly. “Okay, that’s… probably normal.”
From the corner, Soundwave calmly reached over and turned the heat down.
Megatronus stared. “I had it under control.”
“Under control?”
“Stop doing that!”
Soundwave’s laughter was silent but obvious.
Megatronus tried to ignore him, prodding the energon chunk with a tool that looked vaguely like a spatula. The thing hissed, then popped, scattering glowing crumbs across the counter.
Soundwave sidestepped one effortlessly. Megatronus unfortunately wasn't as lucky and got some on his cheek. “Oh, frag okay, okay, too much pressure.”
Soundwave wordlessly handed him a lid.
“Thanks,” Megatronus muttered, slapping it over the pan. “See? I know what I'm doing.”
“😒.”
Megatronus groaned again, vents puffing in annoyance, though his dermas curved faintly. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Soundwave shrugged and motioned for him to step aside. With precise, mechanical grace, he adjusted the flame, crushed a few additives into the mix, and stirred with exact movements. The energon shifted color, solidifying into shimmering, crackly flakes.
Megatronus blinked. “...How did you do that?”
Soundwave didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed a little harder causing the energon to dispense a strong sweet scent
“How hard can it be?”
Megatronus pointed a servo at him. “You’re insufferable.”
Soundwave offered a small, silent shrug, visor pulsing faintly like laughter again.
Megatronus sighed but couldn’t suppress the amused huff that escaped his vents. “Alright, fine. You win. Just pack it up before I change my mind.”
Soundwave wordlessly filled a container, sealing it carefully before handing it over. Megatronus took it, grinning despite himself. “You know, for a mech who doesn’t talk, you’re way too good at backchat.”
Soundwave merely tilted his helm,
“You’re lucky you’re quiet most of the time.”
Megatronus froze, optics narrowing. “…I walked into that one.”
Soundwave gave the tiniest nod.
With a huff and a grin, Megatronus tucked the container under his arm and headed for the door. “Thanks, Soundwave. You saved me from domestic disaster.”
Soundwave raised a servo in a silent wave.
As the door closed behind him, Megatronus chuckled under his breath, shaking his helm. “All this for crunchy energon, better be worth it.”
The trip back to their quarters felt longer than it should’ve. The city had gone quiet, all the noise of the lower sectors dimmed to a low hum. Megatronus’ wheels ached, energon container tucked safely in his subspace like it was the most valuable thing on Cybertron.
When he finally keyed open the door, the room was dark, dim glow strips running along the wall, soft hum of the ventilation system filling the silence.
“Orion?” he called quietly, stepping inside.
No answer.
His optics adjusted to the low light, and there he was. Orion, curled on his side, vents slow and steady, servos loosely resting over the soft glow in his chassis. His spark pulsed faintly under his palms, that new, gentle rhythm that always made Megatronus pause.
He stood in the doorway for a long moment, helm lowering as the tension bled out of his frame. All that running around, all the irritation, the chaos with Soundwave, it melted away instantly.
“Figures,” he muttered softly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You’d fall into recharge before I even get back.”
He walked over quietly, setting the container down on the nightstand. It hissed faintly as it cooled, the faint scent of freshly cracked energon hanging in the air.
Orion stirred just a little, murmuring something unintelligible, then nuzzled deeper into the berth.
Megatronus crouched beside him, brushing his servo lightly across Orion’s helm. “You drive me absolutely mad, y’know that?” he whispered. “Three different vendors, one half awake Soundwave, and a near kitchen explosion, all for some crunchy energon.”
He sighed, but it wasn’t frustration, it was fond, bone deep affection.
His gaze softened as he looked at Orion’s relaxed expression, the gentle rise and fall of his frame as he recharged. “You and that little spark of ours…” His tone dropped to a quiet, reverent murmur. “Worth every klik.”
Orion didn’t stir this time, but a faint smile lingered on his dermas, like maybe some part of him heard.
Megatronus chuckled quietly as he climbed into the berth beside him. He shifted close, wrapping an arm gently around Orion’s waist. The smaller mech instinctively leaned back into the touch, helm tucking under Megatronus’ chin.
“Good recharge, little star,” Megatronus murmured, his voice low and warm. “Your energon’s right there when you wake.”
The room hummed softly around them, Kaon’s distant city lights flickering through the window. Megatronus pressed a light kiss to the top of Orion’s helm before letting his optics dim.
For the first time that cycle, everything felt still.
The energon sat waiting, the city beyond quiet, and in the middle of it all, two mechs recharging peacefully, one with a spark growing inside him, and one who’d crossed half of Kaon just to make sure he’d be happy when he woke.