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shadow_vector2010-05-26 02:06 pm
Ficlet for mpinsky
PG-13
Megatron/Thundercracker
no warnings.
wordcount 720
Based on the really awesome IDW /MO fics
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mpinsky has been writing with this pairing. For her birthday, I thought I'd write her a little ficlet! Enjoy! Megatron Thundercracker IDW for mpinsky
Megatron leaned forward in his chair, the dim light glittering off ancient cuts and scars in his armor. Thundercracker knew the effect was unintentional, but that gesture, that effect, made him feel every iota of difference between their age and experience. Megatron who had fought his way up from the very bottom of society; against Thundercracker, who had idled away in relative affluence. “I am curious about your intentions, Thundercracker.”
Thundercracker wasn’t too solid on them himself. Not in a way he wanted to reveal to Megatron. Especially now. “I come with my Trine.” He threw them up like a shield between them. Between what he didn’t to admit, even to himself.
“Ah yes. Your Trine.” A smile quirked on Megatron’s lips. He tilted his head. “And how do you feel about that?” Determined to get traction. Just like in the Arena, Thundercracker thought. Megatron always pushed an offense. No breaks, no breathers.
Thundercracker stiffened his resolve. You came to prove yourself. That’s what you don’t want to admit. You came achingly aware of being nothing but potential, wanting to change that. Wanting to be something. Prove…something. Time to start. “They can’t see through you like I can.”
“Can you?”
“You use them. Use their desires against them.” Thundercracker knew he was right. Skywarp’s lust, Starscream’s ambition: Megatron knew just how to manipulate them. And…Thundercracker hated to admit it, but he had a certain dark admiration for Megatron, how easily, how skillfully he did that.
“And what do I use against you?” Megatron asked, his tone silky, amused.
Them, Thundercracker thought. You use them against me. “Nothing,” he blustered. He forced the beginnings of a smile on his face. “Which is why I intrigue you.”
Megatron laughed, a dark, raw baritone. A rare sound, raw, and, it seemed, unrehearsed. “Do you?” Covering, Thundercracker realized, a wound. A palpable hit, he thought.
“You keep summoning me here.” Thundercracker shifted his stance, more upright. Feeling he was gaining ground. Or, at least, no longer losing it.
Megatron sat back, taking a deliberate posture of insolence, his shoulders low on the back of the chair, hips cocked forward. He observed Thundercracker through steepled fingers. “I do. Because I am…unconvinced of your loyalty.”
Thundercracker felt a cold shudder run through him, as though his central line had been flushed with ice. Deflecting, he said, “What has given you any reason to doubt?” His processor raced almost as fast as his capacitor. He had done nothing, he knew, to deserve this accusation. He did not entirely trust Megatron, but he was not a traitor. He had his honor.
“No reason. Other than you…withholding.”
A brief lick of anger warming the chill in his systems. How dare he? “What have I withheld? I have fought in your arena.” Your arena. Not Thundercracker’s, never his. He could do that but it was…pointless to him. An exercise, nothing more. Display. Pony-show. It was…not what Thundercracker wanted. He did not need Megatron’s respect, unlike his Trine mates. He needed his own.
“You have. And you have done… well enough.” Just a bit of a barb at the end. Implying he could have—should have—done better.
Thundercracker frowned. “Am I not brutal enough for you?” he sneered. “Is killing not enough? I must make it, what? Showier? More…entertaining?”
Megatron bridled at the gibe. He recovered with his lipplates settling into a matching sneer. “You misunderstand my motives,” he said, coldly. “The ‘entertainment’ is to bring in the weak. We need footsoldiers with such…narrow aims.” Implying that Thundercracker’s inability to perceive that placed him in that low status.
“What do you want from me?” Thundercracker snapped, optics blazing, fists balling. He knew he was giving too much away, was slipping, but he couldn’t help it.
Megatron stood up, suddenly, stepping in close, within easy range of Thundercracker’s fists. Half a goad, half an acknowledgment that Thundercracker retained that much self control. He looked down at the slightly shorter Seeker, who met his gaze with a fury born of a mech who wanted to go beyond the brink, but needed someone to push him there. “Everything,” Megatron said. He placed a hand by Thundercracker’s throat, thumb stroking the audio, the other fingers hard into the neck cabling—pain, pleasure, pressure, release all at once.
Thundercracker quivered.
“This,” Megatron whispered.
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You really nailed them, I think, and this screams for a sequel. ;P
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Very much how I picture them *nods* TC resistant when Megatron's interested yup yup xD
*squee*