heliopauseentertainments | In The Name Of Propriety (Reply)

For megadriftweek 2021 on Tumblr.

Prompt Day 6: Hard Lessons / Ruminate

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Megatron/Drift | Deadlock, implied one-sided Megatron/Starscream

Characters: Megatron, Drift | Deadlock, Starscream

Summary: In which Deadlock's after-training routine is interrupted by Starscream.

Crossposting: Tumblr | AO3

Fic under cut.

“Oh, there you are, Deadlock.”

Deadlock didn’t care for the way Starscream leaned on the frame of the door to the sparring center’s washracks. It was a purposefully jaunty stance, hip pushed out to the side and wings flared wide to take up visual space as the second-in-command pretended to idly inspect the back of his hand for flaws. His field was a cautious yellow, like usual. Deadlock had only ever seen the seeker’s field vacillate between caution and fury.

“I was looking for you. You see, I think we’ve been long overdue for a friendly chat.”

There was something about being damp and dripping from the washracks that made Deadlock feel vulnerable, unprepared for a conflict.

“Starscream,” Deadlock huffed, balling up the saturated mesh towel he’d used to mostly dry off. The hot air dryer had been broken for weeks by now, despite Scrapper repeatedly saying his team was working on it. High Command’s flying base, the Nemesis, was in constant need of repair. The towel was tossed into the laundry bin. At least the remaining solvent clinging to his plating only lingered in places that could air dry. “I have no interest in talking to you.”

“Now, I mean this is in the best possible way, of course, dear, loyal Deadlock.” While he had some guesses about what had brought the seeker here to pester him, when his superior officer next spoke in that soft yet menacing way of his, Deadlock still found himself surprised.

“With the way the rumor mill has been churning, one might think you have less than… pure intentions towards our beloved leader.”

“Why would you think that?” Of course, Starscream would think that. He wasn’t stupid, no matter how much Deadlock might have wished otherwise. The second-in-command would have picked up on clues, nearly imperceptible details in Deadlock’s and Megatron’s behavior over the years. It might not have mattered were it not for the seeker’s keen interest in ingratiating himself to their leader to secure his position.

It was funny, Deadlock thought, that what Starscream had seemingly been after for ages was something that he had received, freely given. Though, he had to wonder why Starscream had decided now was the time to interfere.

“You,” he continued before Starscream could answer, placing one hand on his hip and pointed the index finger of the other right at the seeker’s chest. “Especially you, know better than to believe everything you hear.”

Even if, depending on one’s definition of “pure,” said rumors were true. Deadlock’s relationship with their leader wasn’t chaste by any means. They told themselves it was a natural outgrowth of their affection, a testament to the love between an artist and their muse. Nothing to be ashamed of, even if they had to meet late at night in quiet places known only to Soundwave. When the war ended, some day in the far-flung future, they wouldn’t have to hide….

A broad, conspiratorial smirk stretched across Starscream’s face as he stood upright and dropped his hands to his hips. He fixed his gaze on Deadlock’s, no longer bothering with feigning boredom.

“Oh, of course, I know better, but the rank-and-file don’t and, you see, that could undermine Megatron’s leadership if they think he’s susceptible to something as mundane mortal attachments.”

Their relationship wasn’t something that affected their work, or at least that’s what Deadlock told himself. Fraternization only applied when there as a risk of abusing one’s power over the other partner, right? That would never happen. While Megatron could be a harsh boss, he never raised his voice or his hands to Deadlock. Besides, the entire arrangement had been Deadlock’s idea in the first place.

Starscream strode forward, abandoning the doorway in his wake. Wings intentionally held high, he looked bigger than he usually did, probably an attempt to intimidate Deadlock in some way. His field flickered, but didn’t shift color, as though he knew he was taking a risk getting within the other assassin’s reach. Usually they remained at a distance, a professional courtesy.

Did Starscream realize how much he gave away with his field? The rest of the second-in-command’s posture and mannerisms were all part of his usual theatrics, but this… this was something only Deadlock could sense. A tactical advantage.

He stood his ground, feet apart and shoulders boldly back. He wouldn’t be cowed by physical intimidation.

The seeker came to a stop, a breath away from Deadlock, leaning in as though they were the oldest and dearest of friends. Hand reaching out and lightly resting on the side of Deadlock’s face, on his rounded cheek-guard, Starscream lowered his voice to a cold whisper.

“Faithful, loyal Deadlock wouldn’t want to do anything that could defame or endanger his dear master in any way.”

At the words, Deadlock’s fuel chilled, as though it would curdle and congeal in his lines. Without thinking, he recoiled away from the hand on the side of his face, as though the seeker’s fingertips had hidden knives. His imagination conjured tiny blades, poised to sink into the seams of his armor at a moment’s notice.

“I just know you’ll do what’s right for our dear master.”

Deadlock stood in Megatron’s office, several paces back away from the desk. A cold distance from his lover, amplified by the utilitarian atmosphere and sparse decoration of the room. Megatron did not keep knickknacks. The assassin’s spark ached in his chest with the burden of the words he had come to deliver.

He took a deep ventilation to prepare himself. And then another. And then another. All while Megatron watched patiently from his seat behind the desk, field a confused fuzz of gray. It looked almost as though the field had become an outgrowth of Megatron’s armor. Any other day, that would have been funny.

At last, Deadlock opened his mouth, forcing his tongue and vocalizer to cooperate.

“I’m… requesting a transfer.”

Starscream hadn’t even needed to threaten him. The threat was of Deadlock’s own making, brewing all along from the first moment that he had clambered onto Megatron’s lap in a foolish, desperate bid all those years ago. Deadlock’s presence in Megatron’s life would undermine all they stood for, everything they’d fought for, everything mechs had died for.

All Starscream did was remind him. Worst of all, the seeker was right.

Deadlock swallowed.

“Sir.”