rodion | the battle of the feels

( It's true - there's no one on Cybertron or Earth or even away on the Lost Light that Shockwave wants to dance with more than he does Optimus. They never could have done this when he was still Orion - not officially at any rate - the other Senators wouldn't have stood for a police captain amongst the ranks of the upper class at parties or functions, let alone Orion Pax. But that doesn't matter now.

Instead Shockwave is patient, a soft grin across his face as they move. It's perfect, but in a different sort of way than it would seem. He can't think of any other way it might happen between them. )

There may be hope for you yet, Optimus.

( As a dancer, of course. )

[And in truth, Shockwave would be the only one he would do this for, at least willingly. And it couldn't be more true that it would have never happened if he was Orion. The way the world worked was too classist. It could have cost Shockwave a lot--not that it didn't in the end anyway.

But Orion--Optimus wouldn't have allowed that to happen.

There's not much to express with when you have a faceplate, but his eyes can tell stories.]

I'm sure there's some. Not much, but some.

Nonsense. ( His grip tightens on the other's hand as he looks back up into Optimus' eyes. They've always been the most arresting shade of blue - matrix blue, they say. Which Shockwave thinks is absolute hogwash - knows that it scientifically has to be. But it doesn't make them any less striking. ) You don't give yourself enough credit, Optimus.

( In dancing and overall. He knows from others, from Optimus himself, that the guilt of the war and everything that occurred weighs heavy on his shoulders. If Shockwave could just alleviate that for a moment he would be satisfied; he picked Optimus because he saw in him someone who could lead their species to the other side of the oncoming war. And he did.

Shockwave could not be prouder of him for doing that and making it out whole. Worn around the edges, yes, but he saw in him still all the things that made Shockwave decide that he would be their new Prime. He wouldn't change that, not now and not ever. )

[He doesn't say anything at first, just a gentle tilt of his head in appreciation as he continues to study his feet--his steps now getting slightly more consistent and accurate as he learns the pattern. He keeps his focus on that and Shockwave's eyes, more than anything glad to see that blue hue, just as they'd been four million years ago.

When Shockwave approached him after his actions in the Senate, seeing something in him that no one else did. It made the senator stand out to him...that not everyone in that building was of the same mold.

He'd lost that, in his foolishness. And here, it was given back to him. One saving grace out of the entire war that was granted to him. He'd almost lost the planet, he'd lost his people's trust, and he'd lost more friends than he could count. This?

This he'd saved. To say he wasn't happy about it would be a lie.]

I credit myself with a lot of things. A good dancer, I can't say that's one of them.

I'll settle for passable.

[He gives those hands a squeeze, affectionately. He was a worn down Autobot commander, been to hell and back, torn and broken. And here Shockwave was, as if he'd never changed. He knew deep down that wasn't the case, with what the other bot had to go through. But seeing him like this...for all Shockwave spoke about him being his 'brightest hope'...

Optimus felt the same about him.]

I'll let you have this one, but only in dancing, Optimus.

( Every other facet of his personality is worth having some pride in, as far as Shockwave is concerned. The song changes on the radio to something slower and more intimate and Shockwave takes the chance to pull Optimus closer to him.

They can have this now. Time together. It wasn't a matter of feeling as if he'd been robbed of it - that would imply that he'd felt anything while walking away from an Orion who was begging him to remember who he was. Of feeling something like wanting and remorse for four million years whenever his thoughts strayed to the now-Prime.

Shockwave remembers saving him once - his survival had, at the time, been logical. But they'd been like strangers, they were strangers.

Not anymore. )

[Optimus notices the music change, although what he didn't account for was that this meant to change positions. The closer he was held, the warmer his spark seemed to feel. Maybe it was the other's, or just their close positioning. Either way, he wasn't minding it. And it shows in how his hands seem to search now, letting go of those hands to find a new home on the bot's waist.

He's playing this by ear, definitely.

But here, he could afford to. He could hold on, and the proverbial sand won't slip through his fingers. Something solid.

He can feel his head tilt, looking down at the senator as his body seems to finally react to the music, swaying slightly. He'll rely on the other for the footwork, but this...this he can do.]

Only in dancing. Nothing else?

Why should there be anything else? You excel in all the rest.

( Flattery? Absolutely. But Shockwave has gone so long without being able to do so that even if it seems excessive, it still feels right.

Humming slightly as Optimus' hands move, Shockwave repositions his own arms - wrapping them around Optimus' neck so that his fingers interlocked behind the other's helm. He can't help but smile at the signs that perhaps his Prime was easing into the idea of dancing - and perhaps it's a bit forward but when has Shockwave cared? There's a gentle pressure at the back of Optimus' head to encourage the other to dip his head more so that they can rest their forehelms together.

Shockwave is going to relish this closeness, the warmth spreading through him. All of it as proof he'd finally returned to being himself. )

You're biased.

[He knew that Shockwave idolized him, and as much as he loved hearing it, he knew when the bot was using his personal experience to judge. There was a lot of things he felt guilty for. Things he couldn't save.

But he feels those hands brush against his neck, eyes widening slightly as he feels them rest there, interlacing fingers at the back. The blue seems to glow a bit more in them as he feels something in his spark jump--as if all his senses intensified.

Being so close to Shockwave...he really felt alive. His head dips down, to press against the other's helm as he wanted, the hum of his engine slightly kicking to life. Like a purring kitten.]

Absolutely biased.

[His voice is nothing but a whisper now, hands pulling that waist closer to his. Their feet were still moving, but Optimus had the confidence now to not need to look at his feet. His eyes were needed elsewhere.]

( Shockwave knows that guilt, carries his own with him - of all the things he did, the things he did for the betterment of Cybertron and though the cost was worth the end result. It pulls at him and tugs at the back of his mind; he can't change the past but he can pretend his own twisted works from occurring again. And he knows that Optimus has the right to be guilty of what the war has done; Shockwave can't image having lived through what he has and not. But he also thinks Optimus deserves more credit than he gives himself.

Not everyone survives. And not everyone survives with those morals that made Shockwave pick him in the first place. So instead he laughs softly, his own voice as quiet as Optimus' as he lets himself be pulled forward. )

Only a little.

( Quite a lot. Fingers trace the bottom of Optimus' helm as he unlocks his hands, left hand coming up to cup the side of Optimus' face - thumb tracing the line where his facemask meets the blue edge of the helm proper. His other hand stays where it is, rubbing circles into the smooth lines of his neck. )

Do try not to hold it against me, Optimus.

[Optimus had always been a leader, no matter what position he was in. From a cop to the leader of the Autobots, he'd been that Commander, no--that symbol of leadership. But here, it's amazing how he softens at that touch. It's harder to see with the facemask, but Optimus's eyes often showed enough to tell. His helm leans into that hand instinctively, all that stoicism melting out.

Because even leaders need someone to look to to draw their strength from.

A hand reaches up, though, to ghost over the other's, keeping it there as his eyes lock on to the ones opposite from him. As if mesmerized by the bot in front of him. As if just realizing now just what he'd gotten back.

His feet falter, becoming still.]

And if I did?

( Pausing in the dance as well, Shockwave smiles at Optimus - bright and fond, even if his response is as soft as the rest of their conversation had become. )

Then I would aim to change your mind, of course.

( Smile turning sly, Shockwave tips Optimus' head down towards his slightly, enough so that he can kiss the faceplate tenderly. He doesn't let his lips linger long despite desperately wanting to - four million years was far too long already but he'd always been aware that his affections might not be fully welcomed. But here, Shockwave thinks, Optimus would feel no pressure to return them if he didn't want to, not if he took the initiative.

So he takes the risk, the given opportunity. )

I wouldn't want you to think any less of me.

[Optimus gives Shockwave full freedom in positioning him. He trusted the other bot that much. But this, this definitely comes as a surprise. Feeling his head brought down, those eyes widen in surprise when Shockwave presses his lips to that faceplate. A part of him feels he should retract it--remove it. That would have made it easier on the other, wouldn't it?

But the passion of the kiss is too much to break away from. His body leans in, engine purring contently as he feels those fingers brush along the sides of his face.

It's a swift kiss, though, and soon his glossy eyes snap back (although much softer now than before) to him. He doesn't hesitate with what he does next, though, placing those hands at Shockwave's waist a bit more firmly, gently lifting him up to sit on his one of his arms. Head resting on his chest.]

Nothing could ever make me do that. Not even a war.

[Those blue eyes glisten a bit, arching that head up slightly.]

You are my Shockwave, after all.

( The surprised, startled sound Shockwave makes at being hoisted into the air changes to one of amusement and happiness once Shockwave realizes what's going on. It's not a rejection at all - his spark swells, if not literally than surely metaphorically, sending tendrils of warmth through him. One hand grips Optimus' shoulder more tightly, not that he thought for a moment the other would drop him, but because it seems like the right thing to do in the moment. )

And you my Prime.

( Ducking down to press another, longer kiss against the faceplate is difficult, but one that Shockwave is determined to overcome. He hasn't gotten this far just to give up no, own optics softening as he looks down at Optimus.

No one would have ever accused Senator Shockwave of being capable of hiding his emotions; it holds true even now - the affection he holds for Optimus clear in every line on his face. )

[His eyes close again, momentarily, just hearing how that sounds. 'His Prime'. Optimus couldn't have picked those words any better himself. His spark had always belonged to Shockwave, whether he was aware of it or not. It felt right coming from him.

His head continues to be pressed to that chest, feeling Shockwave's spark gently hum underneath, craning his neck up to help the other kiss again, although it was heavily something one-sided. It's not like he has free hands to remove that faceplate, though.

The downside of having it--much of Optimus's face was hidden. But it's clear to see the affection in his eyes as he presses up, taking in all of this with, dare he say it...

Happiness. After years of loss and suffering, Optimus had finally felt happiness.]

Millions of years never changed that. I was always yours.

( Optimus might not have the hands free, but Shockwave does - and once he pulls away his hands are there on the edges of his faceplate, fingers sliding along the gaps to find the hidden clasps to remove it. It occurs to him that he's never seen Optimus without it after they'd repaired it on his orders so long ago; he almost feels as if he'd forgotten it in the four million years between then and now. )

Now who's the flatterer?

( But he can't say that it doesn't have any effect, truth or exaggeration. It makes the empty, hollow years seem less harsh - that there was someone who had cared for him even still. After everything. Shockwave's expression saddens at the thought, bright smile fading. )

How can you ever forgive me?

( Whispered, tone mournful. Shockwave isn't certain how he's managed to live with himself, knows that there really isn't another choice. But Optimus isn't him, Optimus doesn't have to live with the memories - he can wash his hands clean of this all, of him. )

[His helm doesn't move. If it were anyone else, he'd have pulled away. There was a reason he kept the facemask up, after all. The little 'improvement' as Wheeljack would have called it, was nothing more than a little hassle now. But here, he supposes, it served its purpose. When Shockwave removes the plating, his lips slowly curling into a smile.

Not much had changed since then, really. Weariness obviously was worn on his face. Wear and tear above, near the eyes, where the mouth was relatively untouched. There's a silent chuckle at the comment, eyes locked on Shockwave's, only daring to look away in order to press his lips into his hand.]

I have a feeling that is something you don't need to worry about.

[I already have.]

( Shockwave can feel the tension leaving his frame at the words - and maybe he does not deserve such quick forgiveness with the weight of his sins pressing down on him, but this time he won't argue. Instead he focuses on the feeling of Optimus' lips on his hand, the press of the other against him, the fact that this is something real. Real and full of emotions that he'd never wanted to experience again when he couldn't. )

Thank you, Optimus.

( What else can he say? His fingers trace the lines of his now-exposed face, smoothing over the traces of age he can find with great care. But the corner of his mouth flicks up fondly, sadness bleeding from his expressions for the moment. Right now there's just this. )

It has long been my opinion that you have much too handsome a face to keep it covered all the time.

( It has long been Shockwave's opinion that Optimus himself never knew the pull he had - even now with the title of Prime, he wonders if he understands it. There's a certain sort of mech that inspires devotion beyond one's ability to bond with the Matrix or not; he'd considered Optimus one from the moment he burst into the Senate. )

[Optimus has always been a believer of second chances. He's been put to that test more times than he could ever say. Shockwave had always been someone special to him. The chance at redemption was a cautious one from many, but deep down...Optimus knew.

He knew that spark. And he knew that Shockwave could fight the shadowplay and become the Senator he fell in love with.

His eyes dim as a thumb brushes across his cheek, soaking it in.]

You know my opinion of faceplates. And what happened the last time I didn't have one.

[Funny, how easy it was to talk so casually like this.]

I save it for important occasions.

( His engine kicks up in a contented, rumbling hum. This he could get used to, this closeness and affection and love. It helps him banish the darkness to the corners of his mind where he won't dwell on it, won't think about anything except for the fact he's in the arms of his Prime. )

Is that what this is? ( Teasing, of course. But he takes advantage of their position and the fact that Optimus' head is tilted back to bring his own head down again - lips just barely brushing the other's when he speaks again. ) I'm honored.

( And then he kisses him properly, this time noticeably less sweet and chaste as the last two. He's not going to waste a second now that they have the chance - one hand come to cup the side of Optimus' helm while the other curves into his shoulder plating. )

[Optimus doesn't hold back. He's never had the chance to really share this moment with Shockwave. Before he knew it, the senator had been torn from him in both body and mind, both just a shadow of what beauty was once in him. Here, it'd been restored. And their feelings more than shared between them.

Maybe he didn't want to make the same mistake twice, waiting too long to really have something.

His lips press up into the other's as he receives that kiss, head tilting tenderly into that hand. It's not as elegant as Shockwave--his lips were rugged and not exactly giving a gentle peck, but he doubted he minded. The kiss was desperate, wanting. It was amazing how he seemed to soften at Shockwave's touch, treasuring every moment it rested there. He needed this.

They needed this.

His engine rumbles, like a deep purr beneath that plating as he shifts his hold, slowly lowering him. All while not daring to break that connection between them.]

( If Optimus won't break it, neither will Shockwave. Who isn't at all turned off by the roughness of the kiss; it's amazing what four million years of not having lips will do to someone - it's a bit clumsy as the memories of how to kiss are dragged to the forefront of his mind. His Orion, his Optimus, who he'd wanted to kiss out of pure joy the moment that he proved that not everyone had been lulled into complacency by the Senate. And then who he'd wanted to kiss later for being more than he could have ever hoped for in a candidate for the Primacy.

It is desperate. He'd be a fool if he tried to deny it, and once his feet touch the floor he's pulling Optimus to him roughly, taking a few steps back until his hips hit the table behind him. Not a problem, they'll manage, as he's still kissing Optimus and ending the kiss simply isn't an option.

Not after so long, and not that they're finally doing this. )

[The moment Shockwave has his ground again, he feels himself pulled against him, the kiss now desperate and needed more than before. It was almost hard to believe this was happening. After all these years of nothing but hurt, of losing everything, it's hard to see something this good without a drawback. His Shockwave in his arms, the way he always remembered him.

The way he wants to remember him now.

Thankfully, air isn't needed for Cybertronians to breathe, so he pushes those lips harder against the other, practically crushing them together. Arms fully wrap around the other, weaving in between Shockwave's own. Fingers grip onto that metal back, digging into the seams as he throws himself into that kiss. Every ounce of pain the war gave him, every hole that'd been blasted into him finally starts to heal. And this is when it dawns on him.

He can live again.

They both can. And there was no more hesitation--Optimus was going to love every minute of this as long as Shockwave let him.]

Shockwave.

[He lifts up, just a moment, although he doesn't stray farther than a few inches.]

I want you to know. ...No, I need you to know...

[He's trying to say it, those three words that make all the difference.]

I...

[God, why is he choking on this.]

( 'Clinging' might be an exaggeration as to what Shockwave's doing to Optimus, but it's not far off - fingers curved around any surface he can as if he's afraid that the Prime will disappear from his arms, even as he's holding and being held by the other. That somehow this - this thing is an emotional reaction to an illogical scenario, created by clipped together memories patched over others that his brain module has somehow pieced together to deal with the trauma inherent with the ores and his plan--

No. No. This is real. This has to be real. He can pick out each emotion in the swirl that surrounds him constantly, the fact that he can feel them has to be proof of that.

It's a good thing that Optimus doesn't try and pull back far, because Shockwave isn't about to let him go. Instead he rests his forehelm against Optimus', thumbs running small circles against red plating. )

You don't have to say anything, Optimus.

( There's no point in forcing the other to say anything, even as the hope of what it might be sends a warmth running through him. )

[Call it whatever you want--Optimus would have held on just as tight if Shockwave wasn't already. To him, the longer he holds the senator, the more it sinks in that this isn't a dream. He's had countless over the four million years about what he could have done differently. If he'd been less impulsive, if he'd not been so confident in his own abilities or Shockwave's.

For underestimating the Senate and the Institute.

Life was giving both of them a second chance--and you can't blame him for wanting to hold onto that as tightly as he could. Which is why he hesitates. He could just end it here; Shockwave knew what he'd meant, where no words were needed. But that didn't seem right. He'd practiced by himself, when he thought Shockwave was gone to him. How he would have said it, where, when...just to relive a memory.

He can't do all of that now, but this...this he could do.]

No, you need to hear it. I watched you function for millions of years, a shadow of what you once were. And you stared back with no feeling for anything we had. Our friendship, what that brought...

Our trust.

I won't lose this chance again, Shockwave.

[Because if by some chance this is a dream, he wants it to end right.]

My spark was once and from now on always will be yours.

[Just three words, Prime. You've got this.]

I love you.

( Oh. Shockwave can't help how his spark practically sings at the words, a face splitting smile spreading over his features as he takes one of Optimus' hands in his. He'll allow that much separation - threading his fingers in between Prime's and holding on. As if he's certain that if he lets go he'll lose this, lose Optimus.

No, he has this. They have this. And he'll be damned if he's going to let someone take it away from them. The Senate, anyone here and now who would separate them. Shockwave knows his own strength now, knows what he's capable of and if anyone would try he'll remind them why they--

No. A deep venting of air serves to calm him down and erase the dark expression that was threatening to overtake him. Focus. On Optimus, on his touch and his words. )

I love you, too. ( A kiss to the corner of his lips, just because he can. But then he pulls back so that he can look Optimus in the eyes. ) I can't- I can't say that I have always loved you, because there is four million years of emptiness between then and now but I love you.

( His other hand comes up to trace the point where Optimus' helm meets his face, head tilted fondly. )

I should have told you before I was lost to you completely.

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