Optimus and Megatron shortfic.
Title: Advance, Retreat.
Author: Kyra Neko-Rei
Rating: G/E
Pairings: Hints of Optimus/Megatron if you squint and tilt your head.
Warnings: None
Summary: In the midst of a battle, Optimus gets an idea.
The battle was not going well. Optimus surveyed the field as best he could while grappling with Megatron, and it looked like the Decepticons were going to escape with a full load of energon. It also looked like the Autobots were not going to escape without casualties---already several mechs were gathering under Ratchet's and First Aid's care, none too seriously hurt from what he could see, but---
Megatron's blow caught him unawares and he stumbled back, regretting his inattentiveness to the matter at hand. Megatron, glorious and dynamic as he always was, lunged in to take the advantage, giving Optimus the momentary impression that he was fighting against a god of war, and not the base-metal mech he of course was. Optimus landed aft-first in the mud, several tons of amused Decepticon on top of him, and barely managed to fling his enemy off him. Partially.
I need to end this. Not only for his soldiers, but for himself. Megatron was in fine form tonight, and dangerous. Optimus had over the vorns become sensitive to his enemy's moods, and he knew there were some nights when he was, if not entirely safe with the Decepticon leader, then at least safer than usual. When they fought almost congenially, when they bantered lighly as though almost flirting, when Megatron wasn't actively trying to kill him.
This wasn't such a night. Megatron fought brutally and with determination, and Optimus had to avoid getting entranced by him even for a second. Even so, it was hard to hold his own, and a moment's miscalculation had Megatron closing in on him, and Optimus darted inwards instead of away, ending up pressed against the warlord's chestplates and enduring a rain of blows to the back and helm while they strained against each other. At least he couldn't deploy the fusion cannon with Optimus this close.
An idea struck Optimus, so absurd that he let out a slight laugh. "Is something funny, Prime?" Megatron demanded. Optimus declined to answer, groping at Megatron's arm plating as if to immobilize the elbow joint, but his fingers surrepticiously attacked the mounting that held Megatron's cannon to his arm.
The hardware was built for convenience of attachment and removal, and it was the work of a moment to slip it loose. Megatron noticed---"Whaa?"---and Optimus thrust one hand against the warlord's chestplates and shoved while he seized his prize with the other arm.
"Autobots, retreat!" It was a cry that was rarely heard, and sheer shock had many mechs, Autobot and Decepticon alike, looking over in Optimus' direction, only to see the Prime running pell-mell back toward the Autobot lines, Megatron's fusion cannon clutched in his arms. Megatron's enraged bellow rang across the valley.
Autobots, most of them laughing, obeyed the order with sudden, unexpected delight, forming an exuberant honor guard for their leader and the prize he'd absconded with. Optimus looked back once, seeing the Autobot retreat both in order and not suffering at all for it being a retreat, a scattered array of amused or impressed Decepticons, and Megatron, waving his arms impotently, bellowing Cybertronian imprecations, and looking so mad that Optimus half expected to hear "Curse you, Buzz Lightyear!" from him.
He snickered, and made sure to wave the cannon tauntingly in the air before turning back towards home.
Megatron, far behind him, yelled, "Curse you, Optimus Prime!"
Author: Kyra Neko-Rei
Rating: G/E
Pairings: Hints of Optimus/Megatron if you squint and tilt your head.
Warnings: None
Summary: In the midst of a battle, Optimus gets an idea.
The battle was not going well. Optimus surveyed the field as best he could while grappling with Megatron, and it looked like the Decepticons were going to escape with a full load of energon. It also looked like the Autobots were not going to escape without casualties---already several mechs were gathering under Ratchet's and First Aid's care, none too seriously hurt from what he could see, but---
Megatron's blow caught him unawares and he stumbled back, regretting his inattentiveness to the matter at hand. Megatron, glorious and dynamic as he always was, lunged in to take the advantage, giving Optimus the momentary impression that he was fighting against a god of war, and not the base-metal mech he of course was. Optimus landed aft-first in the mud, several tons of amused Decepticon on top of him, and barely managed to fling his enemy off him. Partially.
I need to end this. Not only for his soldiers, but for himself. Megatron was in fine form tonight, and dangerous. Optimus had over the vorns become sensitive to his enemy's moods, and he knew there were some nights when he was, if not entirely safe with the Decepticon leader, then at least safer than usual. When they fought almost congenially, when they bantered lighly as though almost flirting, when Megatron wasn't actively trying to kill him.
This wasn't such a night. Megatron fought brutally and with determination, and Optimus had to avoid getting entranced by him even for a second. Even so, it was hard to hold his own, and a moment's miscalculation had Megatron closing in on him, and Optimus darted inwards instead of away, ending up pressed against the warlord's chestplates and enduring a rain of blows to the back and helm while they strained against each other. At least he couldn't deploy the fusion cannon with Optimus this close.
An idea struck Optimus, so absurd that he let out a slight laugh. "Is something funny, Prime?" Megatron demanded. Optimus declined to answer, groping at Megatron's arm plating as if to immobilize the elbow joint, but his fingers surrepticiously attacked the mounting that held Megatron's cannon to his arm.
The hardware was built for convenience of attachment and removal, and it was the work of a moment to slip it loose. Megatron noticed---"Whaa?"---and Optimus thrust one hand against the warlord's chestplates and shoved while he seized his prize with the other arm.
"Autobots, retreat!" It was a cry that was rarely heard, and sheer shock had many mechs, Autobot and Decepticon alike, looking over in Optimus' direction, only to see the Prime running pell-mell back toward the Autobot lines, Megatron's fusion cannon clutched in his arms. Megatron's enraged bellow rang across the valley.
Autobots, most of them laughing, obeyed the order with sudden, unexpected delight, forming an exuberant honor guard for their leader and the prize he'd absconded with. Optimus looked back once, seeing the Autobot retreat both in order and not suffering at all for it being a retreat, a scattered array of amused or impressed Decepticons, and Megatron, waving his arms impotently, bellowing Cybertronian imprecations, and looking so mad that Optimus half expected to hear "Curse you, Buzz Lightyear!" from him.
He snickered, and made sure to wave the cannon tauntingly in the air before turning back towards home.
Megatron, far behind him, yelled, "Curse you, Optimus Prime!"