Megatronus, buddy, just sit back and relax. You're dead. Nevermind the back payment in using your likeness on every single object...without your consent...to start a civil war...over divorce paperwork.
The legacy of the Primes always carried on despite troubles and unforeseen circumstances. It didn’t make wading through the muddied waters any easier, especially not when they found themselves in the middle of some strange new situation, but they held steady—they had each other to shoulder the burdens, just like Prima had Megatronus to help carry the weight.
It was both a blessing and a curse, carrying one of the future’s starting points for Cybertronian’s life. Prima felt honored, and he was treated as such, too. It was a holy moment, special and groundbreaking. He was to be happy for the next course of their world, and of course, he was, but…
Prima stood alone at the ridge of the mountains and stared down at Cybertron’s vast horizon below him. Everything was in its place, and all was as it should be, and yet… he felt off.
Carrying was a breeze thus far, and with Megatronus as his chosen companion, he had little else to worry about—maybe too little, as the cycle progressed and his little ones grew. There were unexpected changes and strange side effects to housing the next generation in his gestation chambers, and Prima had yet to determine whether or not he approved of these changes.
The Primes were all over him. Megatronus was obsessed. He was worshiped in every sense of the word, and his plate of responsibilities had never been lighter. He was the chosen leader of the thirteen, which meant sitting back, relaxing, and enjoying this new experience as best he could while his fellow Primes did everything in their powers to keep things running smoothly. The Primes constantly reassured him, too, and Megatronus lavished him in as much comfort as praise. He was perfect, positively glowing, and he bore the strange new world of opportunities that came with bringing new life to Cybertron through intimate practices in the best of ways.
It was as sweet as it was precious, and amongst their company, Prima still felt like Prima. He was a Prime through and through regardless of the added weight circling his belly of the softening of his sides, but in these moments, when he retreated into himself and tried to connect with the strange new happenings, he didn’t quite feel like a Prime.
A Prime was noble and near-perfect, grace incarnated and peace embodied. In spirit, Prima remained amongst the ranks of the thirteen holy mechas, but in body…
He was loose and wobbly, plump and awkward in his gait. Nothing more had changed save for the added affection of his other twelve companions and the increase in protection from Megatronus (among other things, of course), but when Prima stroked the curve of his belly and crossed his arms over his chest, he could feel the difference. He had grown fat all over, softened by time away from responsibility and the heavy weight of carrying new life inside him. It was almost funny to feel up his frame and see all that had changed, but it always left him feeling odd at the end of day.
Primes could carry, for certain. It was the highest of honors in Prima’s mind, and it demanded the utmost respect from the rest of his group, according to the other twelve. But really, did that honor extend to forgiving his wobbly gait as he balanced the new weight he had amassed, his ravenous appetite as he fueled for two—or two, three, four or more?
Prima wasn’t sure what could be called holy and honorable about gaining a huge belly and a frame that had softened with fat in every single way. He hadn’t bothered to ask while the other Primes were doting on him and cooing at his middle, and he certainly hadn’t tried to ask while Megatronus held him in private.
Prima’s frown wavered as he turned his attention from the sights below to his belly. The gentle curve extended far past his pedes was bigger than ever, and by now, he could almost sense the little sparklings growing inside. There was sure to be two of them, if not three. He could feel it.
His solitude didn’t last much longer, and for that he was grateful. Prima’s servos against his belly were overshadowed by Megatronus’ cupping them both, and the bigger Prime standing close holding him from behind was a welcome reprieve. He hadn’t heard his companion’s arrival, nor had he anticipated Megatronus coming out to join him, but that was another funny and comforting part of carrying new life.
Megatronus was clingier than Prima was chubby, and Prima often liked to chalk it up to nerves and the big Prime’s awfully intimidating protective streak. It was nice, especially when he was trapped in his thoughts like today.
“Standing out here all by your lonesome, Prima?” Megatronus rumbled, his voice a soothing purr. “You had me worried.”
“I needed space,” Prima said. He drew his lover’s servos a little closer and relaxed in Megatronus’ hold. “Not from you, or from the Primes, but…”
“Ahh.” He could feel Megatronus nod against his shoulder. “Your mind still troubles you?”
“All day,” Prima sighed. “It’s difficult, these past few seasons. I understand things were never going to remain as they were before, and yet—“
“You bear the burden of bringing new life into our world on your shoulders and on your frame,” Megatronus cut in, his digits tracing tender circles across Prima’s belly and over his waist, “and still you worry about a bit off added weight?”
Megatronus spoke gently and teasing, but his touch remained firm. It was as intense as it was loving, and Prima didn’t dare respond at first.
“Struggle is a sign of effort put forth, Prima,” Megatronus continued. “There is no shame in bearing the marks of something so intimate and life-changing.”
Prima, still silent and calmed, all but melted into Megatronus as the Prime dreww his servos back around and cupped the lower curve of his lover’s belly. He was supported, even as he sunk down and lowered himself to the ground. Megatronus followed, his touch never receding.
“It is still so hard to fathom,” Prima said, his gaze downcast, “that there is life growing within me. Maybe that is why… why I struggle to accept the changes that come with such a tremendous sacrifice?”
“It can be,” his lover nodded. “It is also a sign of your struggle and a testament of your strength. It is something to be cherished.”
Prima hummed in return, his attention drifting elsewhere. It was hard to focus on the bad when so much good became clear to him again, and with Megatronus holding him close and soothing his fears, there was hardly anything to obsess about.
“Future generations will look back on your experience and learn that the changes in your frame are a good thing.” Megatronus’ digits rubbed Prima’s belly ever so gently as he nuzzled in close. “The weight is a sign of health and happiness. It is something to be praised, just as it is something to be cherished…“
He tilted Prima’s helm back ever so carefully, his optics shining with the softest gleam behind his mask. Prima couldn’t help but sag into the touch.
“And you, my beloved, will always be the prime example for our kind.”
