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“Did you happen to go through the sanitation box in the washrack, darling?”
"Mmm. I did. Why?"
He knew why. Of course he knew why, but Rung could have it back after Megatron had had his fill of Rung. Frankly, he had half a mind not to tell Rung where it was until morning.
... might end up being morning by the time he remembered to.
“Do you need a break, Megatron?”
Did he- Oh. Megatron sat up a little, maybe a little too quickly, a little too sharply, digits clenching the stylus in his hand, before setting it aside. Didn't exactly want to break it.
"..please?"
He’s got his fingers folded together over his mouth in that way that means he’s thinking.
Thinking in a manner -especially when he had that cute little wrinkle on his forehelm- usually meant he was considering something deeply. "Shanix for your thought?" Megatron rumbled, pausing in his knitting to squint at the line on one of his needles. ..he missed a stitch. Damn.
Grumbling, he undid the entire row and started over, using his shoulder to nudge his oculars back up onto his face proper.
"I'd like to know what has my conjunx thinking so hard."
‘Come out to the garden when you’re done in the bath. Love you - R🧡’
Huh. He can only imagine that something has, perhaps, bloomed. He is no less enthusiastic to get to him, though, bathing with an urgency that leaves him slightly tingling with the amount of scrubbing.
But eventually he's air dried and polished, and poking his helm out of the doorframe.
"Rung?"
“Here, dearest,” Rung coos, fond as ever as he wanders over to Megatron’s side, holding up a little tray with a cocktail and bowl of cubed melon. “Tarnish Sunrise, just the way you like it.”
"Oh- thank you." Megatron takes the entire tray and sets it aside on the table, so that he can lift Rung up and settle his husband in his lap.
..there is.. a soft squish, when Rung is put on his knee.
Megatron knows that squish. Red optics meet Rung's, knowing, and slowly, be bends towards his drink, popping his claws and putting a melon on the end of each. Some are carefully shifted into the drink, but a few he lifts to his own mouth, sucking the fruit off of each sharpened end with a rumble. "I see."
“You have to ask me for it, Megatron. That was our agreement.”
His jaw works, just for a moment, before relaxing. Yes, he knows he must ask- it is not always easy, but he knows.
"May I have my collar? ..please."
His optics briefly go pink as he turns to look at Rung, mouth set.
"Is that a request, precious?"
".."
Megatron pauses a moment, and then, slowly, his lights begin to go pink, fluctuating in flickers.
"I thought, perhaps. ..Elegy might enjoy a sibling."
Anonymous asked:
There’s a packet marked for Megatron on the counter. That no one else has gotten to it first and already opened it is probably nothing short of a miracle.
Inside is a memory drive. One of the old style ones, but definitely high quality, with a worn gold stamp on it and some faded writing on the label. Hard to make out anything other than ‘Ornament’ and a date on it, something a good million and then some vorn past.
Does he dare to plug it in to a datapad and see what’s on it?
{ @sparkchamber }
He’s.. wary. He shouldn’t just plug these sorts of things into himself (thanks, Soundwave and common sense) but he doesn’t want to ruin a good datapad, either.
..he’ll use the one that’s been dying on him, perhaps. It takes a moment to boot up, and he’s already transfer all the files elsewhere, but when it does boot up, it’s at least reliable. Full charge, help on for as long as it could, but it wouldn’t hold the charge for long, anymore. He’d just.. keep it on the cord, then.
In it goes-
