Author's Notes: Vocabulary for the Transformer equivalent for tongue and teeth were lovingly lifted from Koi Lung Fish, whose TF-verse can be found here (scroll down to find the Encyclopedia, wherein can be found entries on TF anatomy among other things). Used here without explicit permission although seeing as how I'm adorable, I'm sure Koi will forgive me. Also, the likeness of Rodimus Void, better known as Black Hot Rodimus, that I'm using here is lifted (also without permission, because I am a dirty thief) from WingedSiamese's art and can be found here. The moniker for Rodimus Void was coined by Charles RB.
Perhaps it was that instinct for the dramatic, common to both factions, that called the Autobots and Decepticons to gather in Galvatron's throne room to wait for Rodimus Prime and Scourge and phase one of what Ultra Magnus called "this unholy mess that hardly deserves the title of 'working plan.'" Even so, red and purple made it a point to segregate themselves: Autobots in defensive clumps on the left side of the room, and Decepticons scattered on the right, where Cyclonus stood at Galvatron's cannon side. Conversation remained at the level of a tense, constant murmur, though it was broken a couple of times by Kup squawking in protest of the whole sordid business of allying themselves with the Decepticons.
Even he, however, fell silent when Scourge appeared at the hallway entrance. As every optic, red, blue, and otherwise, turned toward the tracker, Galvatron straightened with an eager smirk on his face. "So, it is finished at long last!" His voice echoed about the room like the clapper of an iron bell. "Show us, Scourge, the fruits of your labor - Rodimus Prime reborn!"
Scourge wasn't one for ceremony, but he knew when to play along. "My lord," he announced, "fellow Decepticons, and honored guests, I present Rodimus Prime." He stepped aside to clear the doorway.
No repainted Rodimus was forthcoming. "Prime," Scourge muttered through a clenched jaw. "You're making me look bad."
Scourge's words were barely audible; Rodimus's reply, thanks to the acoustic properties of the hallway, was anything but. "I don't care," he said petulantly. "I'm not coming out and you can't make me."
Scourge turned back to the hall, crossing his arms. "Are you disparaging my work, Prime?"
"No!" came the protest. "It's - it's perfect. I just - "
Galvatron, having reached the limits of his famously limited patience, stood up with a huff. "Prime!" he roared. "You coward - get out here!"
His words faded on a stubborn, hard silence. Then, the shadows of the hallway shifted and coalesced into the visage of the bearer of the corrupted Matrix from another realm, Rodimus Void.
Autobot and Decepticon alike shrank from the baleful red gaze of the Dark Bearer as he entered the throne room proper, his stride purposeful. He paused in the middle of the floor as the assembly parted and flowed to give him a wide berth, and glared up at Galvatron on his unadorned dais. "Satisfied?" he challenged.
Galvatron's optics flared dangerously at that, but all he said was, "Why don't you ask your Autobots?" He gestured expansively with his left arm, and Rodimus followed the movement, turning to face his people, belatedly trying to cover the violet sigil on his chest.
Arcee was the one to break the silence. "You make that look sexy, Rod."
Rodimus laughed, covering his face with one hand; the tension gave way and his Autobots flooded around him, prodding, patting, joking, re-establishing their bond with their leader and friend as the Decepticons around them relaxed. "All right, all right," he announced at last amid laughter. "We've got work to do, remember? This was the easy part." As he said the words, his bearing changed subtly to one more conducive to command. None save the very observant - or perhaps those who made a habit of watching him - noticed the change, but the Autobots responded, their optics bright, their faces attentive. "Ultra Magnus, Nightbeat - we're going to need to go over the plans one more time, and see if you can contact Defcon for new information about the area," the young Prime ordered, voice set and serious. "Arcee, Perceptor, go over the ships again, and take whoever you need to help. Wheelie, rouse the Dinobots. The rest of you, gear up for battle. We move out in ten hours."
A chorus of "understood!" and "yes sir!" and one "'Bout fraggin' time!" from Springer, and the Autobots started streaming for the exit, excitement humming through their chatter.
Galvatron's method of clearing the room, of course, was much different but no less effective. He stood, aimed his cannon into his troops and bellowed, "Get to work!"
Though the Autobots had a head start, it was the Decepticons who cleared the room faster. Even their rivals filed out quickly, though, and soon Rodimus and Galvatron were the only ones in the room.
As Galvatron lowered his weapon-arm, Rodimus gazed past the entryway. "You never answered my question," he stated loudly.
Stepping off the dais, every movement deliberate, Galvatron laughed quietly. "About my being satisfied? You know the answer to that!" He moved up behind Rodimus, making him shiver quietly with each footfall. "And what about you, Prime?" he asked in what was, for him, a quiet tone.
Rodimus gave one last shudder and cocked his head to look at Galvatron over his spoilerpoint. "What about me?"
"How does it feel?" Galvatron clarified, a note of eagerness in his voice. "To wear the brand of the Decepticons on your breast. Is the Matrix protesting?"
Rodimus frowned. "It's just paint, Galvatron."
Galvatron's smirk narrowed. "Of course it is." He walked past Rodimus, slowly, and the young Prime found himself fascinated by his opposite number's movements - as close to contemplative as he'd ever seen from the Herald of Chaos. Galvatron stopped nearly at the entryway, staring hard at nothing.
"When Unicron created me," he said quietly, and Rodimus suppressed a shiver of surprise. The warlord, to his knowledge, never spoke of his birth. "He meant to forge a warrior incapable of disloyalty. Megatron's will, his memory, his allegiance..." Galvatron's optics dimmed, and he touched his fingertips to his own sigil. "He tried to shatter them into pieces he could then rebuild. He almost succeeded. But when I rose from his forgefires, I was wearing this. And I knew who I was."
"Galvatron..." Rodimus murmured, inclining his head ever-so-slightly.
Galvatron whirled, a twisted grin on his face, a dangerous light in his optics. "Will you tell me that it is just paint, Rodimus!?" he demanded. "Can you not feel it, bound by Autobot morality as you are, calling you to shatter your chains and rise, like - " He cut himself off and gestured inarticulately, unsure himself what he meant. "Tell me you can! Even you cannot be so deaf and blind!"
Rodimus clapped a hand over his breast, where beneath the layers of primer and black and purple paint the Matrix still thundered like a storm ready to break. "Let's say I could," he said desperately. "What do you expect me to do about it? I'm an Autobot underneath all this - " He waved an arm at himself briefly before re-covering the purple sigil. "My brand isn't just paint either."
"I know, I know," Galvatron snapped. "As long as you cling to your slave-brand, Rodimus-!" He waved a hand over Rodimus's spluttered protest and darted forward to grip Rodimus's shoulders, pulling them chest-to-chest. "What are you afraid of?" he demanded as the Prime gasped and twisted in his hands.
"Who could I hurt with that kind of power?" Rodimus asked hoarsely, overbright optics slipping to the side.
Galvatron's hold gentled as Rodimus ceased struggling. "Who could you set free?" Rodimus had no answer, and Galvatron didn't insist he invent one.
It was Rodimus who initiated the first kiss, hot and gentle and quietly desperate, slipping his arms around the warlord's waist almost like an infiltration. Galvatron allowed the contact, with only a slight rumble to remind Rodimus of the danger he courted. Acknowledging the warning with a boyish grin, the Prime kissed him again.
"Rodimus," Galvatron growled into his mouth, his fingers denting the Prime's shoulders; he didn't wait for a response before he let his power slam through his opposite's body. Rodimus jerked soundlessly, Matrixlight sparking in his optics, then whimpered as Galvatron pierced his lower lip with his mandental ridge. Electricity spilled from the tear only to be eagerly lapped up by them both, their glossae slipping around each other, testing, twining, until Galvatron lost his patience and slammed his mouth on Rodimus's, glossa driving deep into his mouth.
Rodimus moaned, low and ready. His knees buckled, and Galvatron laughed as he pulled him back up. "Let me show you," he purred, and Rodimus nodded, his fingers fighting for purchase on Galvatron's back. The warlord wondered idly, as he pulled his Prime gently up onto the dais, whether Rodimus knew what he was agreeing to.
He didn't, but it hardly mattered - Rodimus went where Galvatron led him, blind and clinging, until stone met his thighs and he found himself sinking into the honored seat of Galvatron's throne, the warlord himself grinning victoriously over him. "Galvatron - what -?" he queried breathlessly.
"How does it feel?" Galvatron purred in his audial, and descended, his weight settling on Rodimus's lap, one leg curling snug against his thigh. "The universe is at your feet, Rodimus Prime. Yours to cherish, yours to destroy, yours to remake... no, don't tremble!" The order went unheeded and Rodimus curled against him. "You are not the cringing Autobot you like to pretend," Galvatron murmured warningly. "Don't think you can fool me."
"I don't want power," Rodimus lied. "I wouldn't know what to do with it."
"You already wear it well! As well as you wear these colors," Galvatron teased, tipping Rodimus's face up to look him in the optic. "It is your destiny and birthright, Rodimus Prime. All that remains is for you to take it!" The last two words came out as a snarl and Rodimus's body heaved as if shot, writhing against Galvatron's weight pinning him to the throne.
"I'm not-!" he protested automatically, but even as he spoke he was reaching up, grasping the back of Galvatron's neck and pulling him down into the roughest kiss he'd ever given. Galvatron laughed, triumphant, and let himself be pulled, encouraging the Prime's daring with growls and sharp nips.
This is more like it! he told his lover over their shared radio-link. Rodimus did not respond, his attention focused on the warlord's mouth, the pain of his chaos-energy on his tongue and the taste of his laughter. He arched his back, clutching at Galvatron's shoulder, and his lover's constant growl rose half an octave as Rodimus's glossa slipped between his lips. Galvatron pressed closer to catch it, draw it further in, but it withdrew as quickly as it had invaded.
"Don't tease me," Galvatron rumbled.
Rodimus nuzzled his cheek, licked it dartingly and grinned. "I want to link up," he whispered.
Galvatron roared in frustration even as his optics flickered brightly. "I'm the one who links into you, Prime!" His fingers gouged into Rodimus's armor as the black Prime licked him again; he was rewarded with a whimper. "Claim your own power, not mine!"
Rodimus cocked his head up at him, optics dark and rich with promise. "You want my glossa in your mouth," he murmured. It was not a question, and Rodimus smiled as Galvatron tensed against him. "You want to capture me, bind me from the mouth down, inch - by - inch," and his fingertips brushed the barrel of Galvatron's cannon. "Give me what I want, I'll give you what you want."
Galvatron bared his teeth and bore down on Rodimus, shoving him back against his throne with a thunderclap of metal on stone. "You - scheming - little - demon," he hissed, and kissed Rodimus hard. "You evil - " a bite to the Prime's lower lip, where his wound still hadn't closed - "devious - " another bite, this time to Rodimus's jaw - "beautiful creature." He laughed as Rodimus's head went back and darted in, fastening his mandenta in his lover's throat. On MY terms alone! he thundered over comm. Or-!
"Yes," Rodimus moaned, his hips coming half off their seat despite the weight on them.
Galvatron jerked his head, tearing into the metal, and lapped at the resultant spill of Matrix-poisoned energy. "Does this hurt you as much as it hurts me?" he murmured as his hand slunk to his own chest to worry at the latches.
"Don't be - ah! - stupid," Rodimus gasped, "you are pain."
"And don't you forget it!" Galvatron agreed harshly, and gasped as the linkport cover came loose in his hand. "Give me your lead before I change my mind," he growled.
"I can't reach it." Rodimus shifted painfully. At Galvatron's startled look, he grinned apologetically. "You do it. You know where it is anyway."
"You planned this," Galvatron accused, but he was grinning as well. He pressed his fingertips up under Rodimus's chestplate (and oh how the black-jeweled Prime writhed at that) and was rewarded by a thin black wire spilling into his hand. "Just remember you asked for it," he grumbled, yanked it out to its full length.
"Please," Rodimus moaned, and Galvatron shuddered as his lover's fingertips slid across the back of his neck in a helpless caress. With an openmouthed snarl he slid the lead home.
They threw back their heads and cried out in unison as the link took hold, each feeling in the most intimate of ways each other's pain/pleasure/need. Over the flood Galvatron's awareness rose, and found Rodimus kissing him over and over with an intense, desperate concentration. "Rodimus," Galvatron rumbled, just for the glory of saying the name in the same tone of voice he used to say mine. "Satisfied?"
"Never," Rodimus whispered, and raised his head, smiling. Linked up as they were Galvatron could read all the hidden shades of meaning in that smile that the young Prime longed to tell him, every moment, and never could.
Smiling back, suspecting he'd lost a battle of wits and not minding in the slightest, Galvatron bent his head. Their lips touched as he spoke. "We had an agreement, my dark Prime."
Rodimus whimpered, soft and piercing, and kissed him hard as he could, his glossa knifing into Galvatron's mouth. Laughing over radio, Galvatron bore down on the kiss until through the link he could hear Rodimus Prime screaming his name.
