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Optimus Prime has heels.
He has heels.
Heels.
And Megatron just fragging notices that. It's not something world shattering discovery, far from it, but it still caught him by surprise, especially the way he uses them in battle. He knows some mechs and femmes that have heels, especially the seekers and how they've modified it to hide some daggers in it, or under their thrusters.
He has seen them use it in fights, deadly due to the surprise element. But Optimus? He did use it to catch him off guard, but he didn't expect him to dislodge his cannon with a kick, and his heel to hook between the barrel before pushing down, bringing Megatron along to sprawl on the training mat.
If he encounters this during an actual battle before they signed the peace treaty, Megatron might've embarrassed himself by just laying there, dumbfounded, with his mouth open and staring at the open sky, which then morphed into the training room ceiling. With Prime looking down on him with worried filled optics. Fragging pit, he hates that look, right down to his core. “Hey, De- Mega..you alright? I didn't hit any sensitive wires in your cannon, right?”
Stupid slagging glitch with those stupid finials of his slowly lowers down like a kicked turbo pup.
Megatron bares his sharpened denta, swatting the offered servo away from him as he gets up, making a show of checking his cannon, and the force did, in fact, leave an obvious dent on the barrels.
“Just some dents..quit looking like that” Megatron snaps, even when Optimus simply frowns and his finials go lower.
Before Optimus can say something else, the alarm blares out to signal the end of their break, and that they're needed back to their work and more conferences with some snobby Autobots, who don't lift a single finger to help during the war with some outrageous demands. “Okay..let's head back then” Optimus offers a small smile, then heads towards the door first, and Megatron's optics immediately locks on the Prime's swaying hips, then lower to his pedes, his heels.
Primus helps him. He won't stop thinking about this for days.
Lagging a few steps behind, Megatron finally crosses the distance between them before the door closes, and avoids Optimus when he blinks at him and opens his mouth to say something. But Megatron is already gone from there. Cursing his damn processor to the pit and back again, over some damn heels.
He refuels, he finish some work back in his office, he deals with Starscream's attempt to assassinate him and reminds him that they're at peace now, and his actions can jeopardize everything they've fought so hard for, after leaving a sizeable dent on his face, of course.
Then Megatron reaches his room, stands under the solvent and buffs his armour for the night, going to his berth for recharge.
But of course his processor is being a slagging traitor, uselessly going back to the fact that Optimus fragging Prime has heels. When did it even start? When they were miners, Orion didn't have it. Was it when they first got their cog? No, that couldn't be it either. Megatron growls to himself and puts the pillow to his face, and screams his frustration out.
It's going to be a long night.
°•°•°•°
“You alright, mech? You looks like you've just rolled out from the scrap pit”
Jazz, he recalls distantly.
They're not close, in the old days he remembers that sometimes the white and black mech with blue visor would hang out with Orion too, very rarely did he actually tag along with them when he and Orion were together.
And he's right. Megatron feels like a building has fallen on top of him, throughout the whole night.
“Feels like scrap too..” he growls out, gripping his energon cube a bit too tightly, it cracks. “Wow hey, easy there, what's the cause anyways?” Jazz asks again, leaning his cheek on the palm of his servo, hidden optics no doubt staring at him for an answer. At first Megatron wants to just walk away, but hey, what the worst could happen if he tells him anyways?
“Prime..” he grumbled simply, not really expecting for him to nod along with a soft hum. “Is he causing trouble again? I swear he will never grow out of his troublemaker phase” Jazz laughs, and he doesn't know which category he wants to put it into. Is it a problem? Yes, for him. Others? He doesn't know. Does it affect him? Obviously, and he doesn't understand why. That is until the source of his problem walks right past them with a quick good morning, Prowl rushing away with him.
“Uh.. Meg? What are you doing?”
Megatron blinks, turning his helm around and up, he didn't realise that he was leaning down, like he's spying on the Prime.
Correction. On the Prime's aft.
His processor screeched to a half, he had been trying to look closely for any sign of Optimus's heels, thinking that yesterday could've been a dream, he didn't realise that he was leaning forward like some kind of a slagging pervert.
“So…Prime's problem, eh?” Jazz gives him a slag eating grin.
“Not a word..” he growls in warning.
But the slagger already turns around and runs away, laughing his helm off. Megatron feels like throwing himself into the smelting pit. What a way to start his day.
More so when he turns around and sees Soundwave watching him from the back, with his cassettes, quietly sipping his cube and walks away. Primus, just end him now.
°•°•°•°
Over the next few days running around and dealing with the remaining quintesson, on top of rebuilding their fallen society and dealing with entitled aft high caste mechs and femmes that made no contribution to Cybertron, Megatron can proudly say that he almost forgot about Optimus's heels. Keyword, almost.
Until Optimus decides to sit down next to him and props his pedes up and on his laps, while stretching out like a cybercat, like Ravage who is using his cannon as her personal berth.
“Get off of me, Prime..” He warns slowly at first, baring his fangs at the yawning Prime, tensing when Optimus decides to sit up and cuddle with him instead. His processor is already a mile per seconds on why it could be a bad idea to stay like this. What if someone comes into the resting room and sees them? Elita? Or that overprotective old medic, Ratchet? Or that loud mouth seeker, Starscream. He surely won't stop hearing the end of that.
So with another growl, he tries to push Optimus away, only for him to cling even tighter around him, arms around his neck, chassis to chassis, and he's nuzzling Megatron like a slagging cybercat too.
“Aww come on, I don't want to go away just yet..you're warm..” Optimus pouts, nuzzling him again until he sighs and lets him do what he wants.
At one point he props his own pedes up the bench too, back on the wall, and has a lapful of a clingy Prime, who, somehow, has fallen into recharge. Megatron watches him for a moment, then his optics drift to Optimus's pedes. They're royal blue with silver highlights just like his helm, there's some scratches here and there, no doubt that he hasn't had the time to polish himself with how busy his schedule is, just like Megatron's.
Then he looks at Optimus' recharging face, letting his helm fall back as he sighs. Maybe, just maybe, he can enjoy this moment of closeness, this feeling that he has been missing for so long. And perhaps the next time they're able to have some alone time together, he can finally ask Optimus about those slagging heels.
°•°•°•°
He in fact, did not ask Optimus about the heels. It was Optimus who cornered him on his way back to his habsuit, servos on his hips, cocked to the side just right, and the slagging Prime has a slag eating grin on his face when Megatron's optics shamelessly follows the movement, with a quick flick to his pedes.
“So Jazz was right”
Of course the damn spy told him.
“I don't know what you're talking about, Prime..” he growls. Side stepping him so that he can continue his route, only for Optimus to catch his servo in quick movement, and he hears the sharp clicks of his heels.
“Teasing aside, I think we need to talk..”
“About what? There's nothing to talk about” he dismissed him easily, yet he can't find the strength to pull away from Optimus's servo, or scoff at him when those brilliant blue optics simply roll in an annoyed manner. “Yeah, you can't fool me, Dee. Come on” Optimus tugs him forward, back to Megatron's own habsuit and enters it like he owns the place.
Optimus then pushed him down on the couch, leaning over him, and trapping him once again even though he can easily push him away.
“I know I should've said this sooner…I should've been the bigger mech..” the Prime sighs, slowly backing away and settles down beside him, his finials down and fingers laced together.
“All jokes aside, and your obsession with my heels..I'm sorry..for banishing you on that day..”
Megatron bristles slightly as he recalls the painful memories, banished from the only home he ever knew, right after he shot Orion. Then being at war with his former dearest friend, and reuniting with him and signing the peace treaty together in order to get rid of the Quintesson and rebuild Cybertron. So it can have a proper golden age after Sentinel's rule.
However, Optimus is not entirely at fault here, part of it, the bigger part of it, is his own fault too. Blinded by anger and pain and the desperation for Orion to understand that he has to do what he just did. Only for Orion to tell him not to be like Sentinel. It hurts too much.
And then he shot him, and dropped him to the belly of Cybertron.
“You think I'm like Sentinel..”
“No, Dee..it was a poor choice of words..I don't want you to be like him, to..to follow the path that he chose for himself”
Optimus says after he resets his voice, and Megatron frowns as he looks at him, keeping his anger at bay even when he wants to use it as a shield to hide his weaknesses from the only mech he still cares about.
“I'm afraid that you might lose yourself..that's why I tried to stop you…and you..you were my home too..” he adds the last part quietly, his servo slowly reaching for his, so Megatron turns it over and lets him put his own servo in his.
“I shot you, Prime..if there's someone that needs to apologise..it's me”
“You have every right to be angry, Dee..I'm just too stupid to realise how it must've affected you. I'm sorry”
For a moment, Megatron can't believe what he's seeing and hearing right now, this mech in front of him is nothing like the Orion that he knows. Yes, clumsy and causing trouble here and there still, Elita still had to chew his audios off, sometimes he received more lectures from Prowl and Ratchet too. But right now, he's grown more mature, he has grown into someone new. And maybe, just maybe, Megatron too.
He sighs, slowly lacing their fingers together, and nearly smiles when he sees those long finials flick up.
“Alright…I forgive you…if you forgive me too” Megatron quickly adds, because he knows that Optimus will say the exact same thing if he turns it around and asks for his forgiveness instead.
Optimus squeezes his servo, bumping their helm together like he's trying to nuzzle him like a cybercat. “Only if you forgive yourself too, Dee..I've known you longer than anyone else”
Scoffing, Megatron growls and tries to push the now laughing Prime away from his personal space, who simply laughs louder as he clings to him. “Prime!” He growls again.
“Say it! If not I'll remove these heels until you say it!”
“What?!- that doesn't make any sense-!”
And Optimus simply laughs louder, coolant in his optics, the base of his pedes shifting to remove the heels, and Megatron
reacts first before his processor can work, reaching towards Optimus who could possibly be dying from laughter right now.
“Prime!!!”