heliopauseentertainments | A Bouquet of Firecrackers

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Megatron/Starscream, Megatron/Rodimus, Rodimus & Starscream

Characters: Megatron, Starscream, Rodimus

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Polyarmory (a vee), Comedy, Swearing, Not Beta Red

Summary: In which Megatron bemoans Starscream and Rodimus’s failure to get along.

Crossposting: AO3 | Tumblr

Fic under cut. See AO3 for complete notes.

The door to Megatron’s study burst open while his back was turned. Unfortunately, there were two options of who could have been the culprit, each as equally likely as the other.

As a physician, he had the means for a decent, though not extravagant dwelling. This meant he had the space to cohabit with those closest to him. To call either of those who shared his home close to each other though would be rather more than a misstatement.

After the decommissioning of the Lost Light , Megatron had been granted amnesty on New Cybertron at his trial in recognition of the lives he had saved, much to Prowl’s chagrin. That had granted him the time to… make some additional amends.

"Your twink fucking bit me!”

Starscream.

He must have learned “twink” from Rodimus. Megatron still wasn’t sure what that word meant, as it did not occur in even Neocybex slang dictionaries. It must have been an incredibly recent borrowing from somewhere.

“Did you provoke him?” he asked, turning to look at the seeker who still blocked the doorway to the hall.

“Me?” Starscream held his hand to his chest, wings high in offense—No, one was drooping slightly. “Never!”

From this angle, Megatron couldn’t see a visible injury, but it was most likely on a part of the wing concealed by Starscream’s frame. Starscream had always had a habit of hiding injuries, always being loath to show any vulnerability, sometimes even when receiving treatment for said wound.

Megatron would have to carefully coax him into showing the bite mark so that the injury could be appropriately patched.

Distantly, elsewhere in the apartment, he could hear the sound of Rodimus’s engine revving. That was almost never a good sign.

It was a mistake to have both Starscream and Rodimus in the same home, but there had been no viable alternatives. Starscream was a jealous creature and Rodimus liked to cause trouble. Both of them were strong-willed and prone to bucking authority.

As a result, Megatron was also in no position to arbitrate between the two of them; he was neither “master of the house” nor did he outrank them. That and even if he had, neither of them would “obey” him. Starscream had only ever done it when it suited his purposes in the War and Rodimus… Rodimus had just never, never minding their allegedly equal rank while serving together.

Megatron had never been a peacekeeper, even after he had put active warmongering behind him.

“Do something about it! He is a danger to me personally!”

With a sigh, Megatron put the datapad he had been looking through back on the shelf, not even looking behind him. He knew where it was supposed to go. Before this seeker-shaped interruption, he had been searching for an obscure symptom just to keep on top of his training.

“You promised me protection, Megatron. And—“

“Provoking people is one of your favorite pastimes—“ The sound of an engine roaring grew rapidly louder, the kicking of cylinders echoing off the hall.

Brakes screeched to a halt followed by the sound of a transformation cog flipping over.

“Megs!”

Suddenly, Starscream was pushed downward into a hunched crouch as a brightly colored mass of armor used him as a pivot to vault through the otherwise blocked doorway.

Rodimus slipped for a moment on contact with the floor, but quickly regained his footing to stick the landing.

He lifted one of his spoiler fins high, revealing a series of dents that looked rather like bite marks. He even pointed at it with his hand.

“Your twink fucking bit me!”