Chapter Text
Looking at Cybertron on its fifth anniversary of ending the largest war in its history, you’d have never guessed it had seen war. Although lingering reminders of the war stood tall in memorials and walls full of names of the ones lost to the battles, the cities littering its surface lived on, renewed in vigor.
The day of the anniversary had become a national holiday, which meant everyone got a day off. Except medical staff and emergency response teams. But lucky for Ratchet, now that he had motivation to make more free time, he made sure his pre-scheduled day off lined up perfectly.
It was a delight for Ratchet to wake up sandwiched between two large mechs, warm and comfortable, tangled with limbs and wrapped up in blankets. Their fields mixed, calm and warm and soothing. He roused first, bright and early, part of his unbreakable routine.
Megatron had an arm slung over Ratchet’s torso and Optimus was on his side, arms locked around the small medic.
Ratchet let out a blissful sigh and shifted, turning to face Megatron, pressing his face into his chest. Megatron took in a deep breath and let out a long, grumbling sigh, indicative of waking up. His digits curled possessively against Ratchet’s frame before relaxing. Optimus stirred at the sound emanating from his chest, squinting as he lifted his head slightly.
The Prime leaned forward and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to Ratchet’s cheek, and stretched forward to do the same to Megatron. Both Ratchet and Megatron gave soft, sleepy smiles, optics dim and barely open. Optimus reached out under the blankets, hands searching for Megatron, and caught his waist, pulling him in and thus squeezing Ratchet between them, spooning him at his back.
Megatron let out another rough grumble and searched for the nearest warm crevice to press his face, which happened to be Ratchet’s neck. Ratchet’s field bloomed with fondness as Megatron kissed his neck, instinctively searching for comfort. Ratchet let out a breathy sigh as Megatron nipped at his throat cables.
Optimus grew jealous of the affection and shifted down on the berth so he had easy access to kiss Ratchet’s lips. Ratchet made a muffled noise of pleasure, overwhelmed by blissful soft hands that began wandering his frame. Megatron tugged Ratchet closer, prompting the Prime to scoot closer and plant a hand on his chest to keep him near.
Optimus pulled away and brushed a palm down the side of Ratchet’s helm, the medic positively dazed. Megatron pulled back, optics lidded with something predatory.
“Good morning,” Ratchet mumbled.
Megatron’s voice came out rich and husky. “Good morning, my dear medic and my beloved Prime.”
Optimus’s voice was low and silky. “Good morning, my sweetsparks.”
Ratchet let out a long yawn, his frame going stiff as he stretched out. Megatron chuckled in gentle amusement. Optimus craned his head up and squinted at the other two. “Shall we get started with the day?”
Megatron clicked his glossa. “My beloved Prime, how often do we have the chance to spend as much time in berth as we like? I’d much rather stay here where I have you both to myself.”
Optimus smiled softly. “Ah, my apologies, my spark,” he murmured. He settled back down without protest, broad frame easing back into the berth.
Ratchet gave a pleased hum as Optimus’s weight settled back against him. Megatron huffed in satisfaction and draped an arm across both of them. “Mhm, much better.”
Optimus smiled softly. “As possessive as always.”
Megatron smirked. “And I know you both love it.”
Ratchet snorted. “Unfortunately.”
Megatron turned his helm slightly, catching Ratchet’s poor attempt at hiding his smile. “You say that while curled into my chassis.”
Ratchet just hummed, not arguing further. Optimus reached over Ratchet to brush a thumb along Megatron’s jawline. Megatron’s expression softened at once, his expression losing its teasing edge. He leaned into the touch and caught his wrist carefully, bringing it to his face and pressing a kiss into his palm.
Ratchet watched them for a moment, fondness plain on his faceplate. “You indulge us too much. You need to learn to control him. Unlike him, I can keep my panels shut in public.”
“Mhm,” Optimus let his head rest on Ratchet’s chest. “But I like to spoil both of you.”
“As you should,” Megatron murmured.
Ratchet rolled his optics, but he was smiling as Optimus caught him by the waist, pulling him closer until he was on top of him, the blankets slipping away. Ratchet let himself be manhandled only because he was too groggy still to fight back.
Megatron rolled closer, his warm frame pressing against Optimus as he reached up and laid a hand at Ratchet’s hips. “You look good up there.”
“Quiet,” Ratchet muttered, reaching a hand down and searching for Megatron’s.
Optimus ran a hand up Ratchet’s hip and found Megatron’s digits, lacing them together and locking Ratchet into place. Ratchet’s helm rested against the Prime’s chest, vents slow and relaxed as he melted across his frame. Megatron looked at his two lovers with a fond look that was far softer than anything anyone else could have imagined possible.
Ratchet glanced sideways at Megatron. “You’re staring.” He looked up at Optimus. “So are you.”
Optimus gave a tiny indignant huff. “So? Am I not permitted to appreciate a well built mech? Two well built mech’s at my side?”
Ratchet’s expression eased as he gave a soft laugh. “What a sap.”
Optimus grinned and cupped the back of Ratchet’s helm and pulled him into a kiss, slow and sweet. Ratchet’s once tentative kisses had grown deeper and more hungry, lingering for longer and reveling in the way their fields prickled and Megatron’s field went rich with jealousy. One of the medic’s hands squeezed Optimus’s side and the other squeezed Megatron’s arm where it rested on him.
When they parted, Megatron gave a sharp huff of mock offense. “What about me?”
Ratchet leaned to the side immediately, only not slipping off Optimus because Megatron’s frame was supporting him. He caught Megatron by the chin and pulled him into a soft kiss. Megatron growled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest as his hand laced with Optimus’s at his hip slipped lower, holding him by his thigh.
Ratchet drew back and gave him a falsely irritated glance. “There. Satisfied?”
Megatron grinned. “Never.”
Optimus laughed again, his spark swelling with joy and pride at his small family. He tilted his head to one side and pressed his mouth to Megatron’s, pulling away just an inch as he brought his hand up to his jaw and kissed him again deeper. Ratchet watched with silent affection, dragging his digits over both of their chests while they kissed below him.
When they pulled apart, Optimus gave a delighted sigh. Megatron tugged Ratchet all the way onto his chest and hooked Optimus against his side with his other arm, holding them both in place with strong hands. He gave a low growling laugh. “This is how a proper day is spent.”
↠✧↞
Once the trio had finally dragged themselves from the berth at Ratchet’s advice to finally fuel, the morning was well underway. If there were windows in the sublevels, sunlight would be pouring in. They wandered out into the living room at a languid pace, bumping into each other and rubbing shoulders.
Ratchet went straight for the cooling unit and grabbed three vials of energon. He set them on the dining table for them before returning to a cabinet and finding a box of energon sweet buns he had tucked away after returning late from work the night before.
The three settled together around the table with plates and the box of sweet buns, frames all relaxed. Megatron took one bite and made a show of licking the sweet glaze from his digits in a shameless bid for attention.
Optimus, with his Primely discipline, ignored him entirely and ate his own sweet bun in peace. “When did you get these, Ratch?”
Ratchet tilted his head as he sipped his drink before setting it down. “Local bakery, not far. I’ve been meaning to go. Stopped by after clocking out last night.”
When neither of them rose to Megatron’s bait, blatantly ignoring him, he gave up and swiftly finished his breakfast. He took his plate to the kitchen and stalked down the hallway.
Ratchet huffed. “Mad because we’re not paying attention to his antics?”
Optimus shook his head thoughtfully. “Mmh, usually he’d be more pushy before giving up.”
Megatron returned clutching two small parcels, wrapped up in dark paper and tied by a string. He marched over to the table and set them down before taking his seat, grabbing his glass of energon and sipping it.
Ratchet raised a brow, optics catching the faint lettering of his name on one of the boxes. “You brought gifts?”
Megatron leaned back against his chair. “Yes. Problem?”
“No,” Ratchet said quickly. “Just unusual. You don’t seem the gifting type.”
“I am offended you think so.” Megatron’s face didn’t make him seem as offended as he claimed.
Optimus smiled and reached out for the box with his name on it. “You did not have to do this, my spark.”
“I know,” Megatron said smugly. “I wished to.”
Optimus undid the cord neatly before peeling back the wrapping. Inside rested a beautifully metal-bound book with holographic pages, the cover bearing elegant engravings embossed with silver. Ratchet leaned over to see the title. Archive of the First Court — Compiled teachings and research journals of Prima.
Megatron beamed. “Just something to celebrate the anniversary of Cybertron’s peacetime. I had it custom bound for you. You once mentioned it’s impossible to find an intact physical copy.
Optimus look genuinely surprised. “Yes… I did say that many many vorns ago…” He ran his digits over the cover, not having touched an actual book since his archivist days. Even then it had been rare. They had already been transferring a lot of data to datachips and digital files by his time.
Megatron gave a small nod, folding his arms. “And I still remembered.”
Optimus flicked the book open to glance at the cool blue words spilling across the holo-pages. He looked up to Megatron, optics softening with affection. He stood up, skirting the table, and moved to cup Megatron’s face. Megatron looked up, opening his mouth to question him before Optimus brushed his lips against his in a quick kiss.
As Optimus returned to his seat, Megatron made a startled sound and cleared his vocalizer.
Ratchet dragged the second parcel toward himself, lips pressed together. “Now I feel like I’m pressured to perform even if I don’t like it.”
Megatron chuckled. “I don’t think you’ll have to act, my dear Medic.”
Ratchet snorted and unwrapped the gift with far less restraint than Optimus, tearing the paper away and tugging the string off. Inside was a moderately sized steel instrument case, the surface a fine smooth brushed finish. He set the case on the table and opened it. Inside was a pristine set of precision automated electric tools—a torque wrench, a set of ratchets, and a laser cutter. They had finely crafted grips and the case itself was the charging dock. It was better than anything he currently owned.
Ratchet lifted the laser cutter carefully, testing the weight in his palm. His expression was uncharacteristically soft. “These are… Perfect. Very high quality.”
Megatron grinned proudly again. “I had them commissioned. You complain constantly about the inadequacy of your tools and how you have to do everything manually, and how tedious it is.”
Ratchet huffed in faint amusement, tucking the tool into the case. “So you do listen to me.”
Megatron tilted his head in a ‘so-so’ motion. “Selectively, but yes.”
Ratchet didn’t think twice before getting up, moving to Megatron on his chair. Megatron smirked as he knew what was coming before Ratchet grabbed him by the collar plating, hauling him out of his seat a few inches and kissing him softly before letting him fall back into his seat.
Ratchet had a blue flush across his face as he returned to his seat. “They’re excellent, thank you.”
Megatron beamed with pride. “I know.”
Optimus set his book aside and reached out for both of their hands, interlacing their fingers as the other two leaned closer. “Both of you have presented thoughtful gifts for our holiday today. I’m afraid I have nothing for you both.”
Ratchet scoffed so hard it startled the Prime. “That is ridiculous.”
Optimus grimaced. “Ratch—”
“No,” Ratchet cut in. “No no no. Absolutely not. I’m fed up with you saying this scrud!” He set his energon down with a sharp click on the table. “You don’t just get to sit here and say something like that to me over and over. I’m sick of hearing you devalue yourself like this.”
Megatron’s mouth curved faintly in sympathy. “I, for once, agree with my whole spark with our dear medic.”
Optimus gave a tired sigh, his face falling. “I merely meant I had not prepared a physical gift. I did not intend to diminish your generosity.”
“I get that,” Ratchet hissed. “But you’re diminishing your own.
Optimus fidgeted with his plate, a few bites of sweet bun still left on it. “I’ve only done what was needed of me. I did what I had to do.”
Ratchet made a face. “Tch. There he goes again.”
Megatron’s expression practically melted. He leaned forward, crossing his forearms over the table, voice dropping into that low intimidating register. “Optimus.”
For a moment Optimus heard the same threatening tone of Megatron during the war. Not in a bad way. It was familiar. A side of him he hadn’t seen in forever.
Megatron let out a breath. “I knew you for many vorns as my enemy. Even then, I knew what you were. The important part is that I am no longer threatened by it. But that is beside the point.”
Optimus gritted his dentae, already uncomfortable. “Megs—”
“You were relentless,” Megatron continued, voice edged with irritation. “Infuriatingly unwavering. Impossible to break. I waged war against you for ages and still found myself measuring my every move with the weight of my first battle.”
Ratchet’s brows lifted in genuine surprise. “You found Prime intimidating?!”
“I found him many things,” Megatron said dryly. “Among them, he was very difficult to beat. Seeing as I lost the war.”
Optimus flushed a faint blue but grimaced away his embarrassment. “You exaggerate.”
“I do not,” Megatron said with the authority of a former leader. “There were battles I entered believing I would finally reign victorious, only to learn you have already done everything you can to avoid my attacks entirely. You were maddening.”
Optimus stared at his energon sweet bun. “What is the purpose to this?”
Megatron ignored him. “You inspired loyalty, unlike how I took it by force and used fear to control. Even your enemies, all of us, respected you. And when it was all over, you sit here and do not soak in your victory. You went right to work carrying on with new duties.”
Ratchet’s harsher edge dulled as he watched Optimus hear none of it. Truly in disbelief of his own capabilities. He leaned back in his chair after a sip of energon, his voice softening. “You restored half of Cybertron before restoring your own quarters. You reopened medical wings before seeing treatment yourself.”
Optimus shook his head, optics dimming. “Ratchet, what else was I going to do?” He genuinely saw no other option.
Ratchet sighed sharply. “You could’ve helped yourself first! Set up base, make sure you wouldn’t drop dead. But you are so selfless it’ll get you killed. It already almost has.”
Megatron gave a slow nod. “You chose mercy. Over and over. When vengeance would have been easier.”
Ratchet started up again, “You offered trust where no one else would’ve.”
“You gave it to me,” Megatron said softly. “To the mech who deserved none.”
Optimus’s face went hot with embarrassment. “You have more than made up—”
“That is not the point!” Megatron’s voice rose, his optics going a shade redder. He sighed, trying to push down the simmering anger. “If I am deserving of trust,” Megatron growled. “You are deserving of recognition. You gave me the chance to become someone worth loving at all.”
Ratchet scoffed. “Show-off. You’re just competing now.”
Megatron beamed. “It was an excellent line, no? I still have my knack for speeches.”
The medic groaned. “Yeah, fine. It was.”
Optimus rubbed the bridge of his nose before leaning back in his chair, clutching a half-full glass of energon. “My sparks, truly, I am not worthy of such—”
“Yes, you are!” Ratchet proclaimed. “Because you never seem to get it through your thick helm!”
Ratchet reached forward and held out a palm, flexing his digits in the universal sign for give. Optimus begrudgingly set his fuel down and put his hand in Ratchet’s. The medic stared into his optics softly, as if he could reach the Prime’s spark through them. “You gave me—all of us—a world worth living in! Do you understand that, Prime?” His words came pouring out uncontrollably. “I spent so long patching everyone up, but you were the first to patch me up. You were the only one who checked on me during the war.”
Megatron reached out and placed his hand over Ratchet and Optimus’s conjoined ones. “You gave us a future.”
Ratchet shot Megatron a knowing glance before looking back to Optimus. His mouth quirked up in a sly smile. “And if we’re going to talk about the endless gifts you give us…”
Megatron nodded slow. “Ah, yes. We should be thorough.”
Optimus shook his head. “Oh no, I’ve started something I can’t stop, haven’t I?”
Ratchet gave a firm nod. “You kiss my helm every morning when you think I am asleep.”
Optimus’s lips curled in a small smile. “I am aware you are not asleep.”
Ratchet sighed. “Not the point.”
Megatron went on next. “You save the best portions of meals for us and pretend you are full. I know you aren't because when we get back from dates, I have seen you sneaking extra energon.”
“I do not—” Optimus started.
“I have footage that says otherwise, Prime,” Ratchet countered. “You also warm the berth for us on the days you get home early.”
Megatron said now, “You tuck the blankets around us like sparklings.”
“I know you’re the one buying the spare scented polish in the washracks,” Ratchet noted.
“You memorize our work shifts and have fuel waiting for us when we get home.” Megatron said.
Ratchet then, “You look at us like we’re the best thing to ever happen to you.”
“And you love with a steady passion I once believed I’d never see again,” Megatron said fondly.
Optimus’s face had gone a brilliant shade of blue, shoulders drawn in protectively at his embarrassment.
Ratchet pushed himself out of his seat and walked around the table and brought a hand to one side of Optimus’s face and pressed a kiss to the other cheek, the Prime unable to escape unless he left his seat. Which he was too frozen in fear to do.
Megatron mirrored the motion, trapping Optimus in place with a hand at his chin once Ratchet moved aside. Megatron gave him a kiss on the cheek and stood back with a smug grin. “Remarkable. You are beautiful when you blush.”
Optimus buried his head in his hands as the other two surrounded him on both sides. “You both are abusing your priviledges…”
↠✧↞
The rest of the day drifted by slowly. Ratchet eventually disappeared into the kitchen to cook up some kind of unique energon recipe he’d been perfecting. Megatron spent most of the afternoon on the couch with some of his tools, assembling some kind of small flying drone.
Optimus moved between them both throughout the day. He took over stirring for Ratchet before his overworked hand servos cramped up. Then he’d cross the room and help Megatron by holding components in place as he soldered them into place.
The Prime seemed happiest when he had a purpose, to help his two sparkmates, brushing shoulders, pressing kisses to their helms without warning whenever his spark swelled with fondness and longing.
By the time evening settled over the city, they had a brief walk around the block outside to get some fresh air. The sky went from pink, to orange, to navy and then black. It was cool and crisp, the setting sun catching on all of their pristine plating.
They settled back in the habsuite under the Capitol Nexus once night fell. Optimus dimmed the lights and helped clean up the remnants of the savory meal Ratchet had made and reorganized Megatron’s tools.
They returned to their berth in slow, tired movements. Ratchet sank into the berth with a satisfied groan. Optimus slid in beside him. And Megatron came last, looming at the edge of the mattress before getting comfy as he wiped some leftover soldering grime off his hands with a rag.
Ratchet squinted at the look Megatron gave him, suspiciously predatory. “No.”
Megatron arched a brow and tossed the rag onto the nightstand. “I haven’t said a word.”
Ratchet shook his head. “That look means trouble.”
Optimus glanced over at Ratchet. “That expression means he is plotting. I should know.”
Megatron’s face softened with something knowing. “You two know me so well,” he cooed.
He settled fully onto the berth and slung an arm over Optimus’s torso and caught Ratchet’s waist, the other drawing around Optimus’s shoulders and guiding him close and pulling Ratchet as near as possible. They quickly became a tangle of limbs and metal. There was a comfortable warmth in their frames, their fields brushing and mingling in soft waves of contentment and fondness.
Ratchet’s earlier caution faded as he basked in Megatron’s attention. The imposing silver mech’s hand slid slowly along his side, savoring every hitch of the medic’s vents. Megatron gave a deep laugh, voice low as he murmured, “So responsive. Isn’t he?”
Optimus chuckled softly, only to quickly lose his own composure when Megatron turned that same heavy focus to him. Megatron’s palm dragged over the center of his chest, feeling the quickening pace of his spark. “My noble Prime,” he purred, “still so easy to fluster.”
Optimus huffed. “I am not flustered.”
Ratchet laughed. “You absolutely are, sweetspark.”
Megatron took advantage of the distraction to lean across the Prime and tip Ratchet’s chin into a kiss, deep and passionate, stealing the words and breath from the medic’s vents.
Ratchet’s hand fisted the plating of Megatron’s shoulder, vents shuddering as he drew away. Just as quick, Optimus was pulled into a kiss, just as hungry and urgent, letting a soft sound slip from his vocalizer.
Their fields were weaved together, all of them spilling rich waves of emotion—affection, want, trust, satisfaction, the delicious helplessness of being known so intimately.
Megatron seemed intent on trying to draw the best reactions from both of them that he could. A murmur of how beautiful Optimus looked against his throat made the Prime’s hands tighten in the blankets. A lazy stroke of a digit down Ratchet’s thigh had the medic biting back a noise and failing as it came out a whine. Optimus let out a shaky sigh as Megatron passed a hand down his stomach plating. Ratchet shivered when Megatron cupped his cheek.
Ratchet let his head loll toward Megatron on the other side of the Prime. “You planned this for a while, hmm?”
Megatron gave that dark, mischievous smile. “Of course I did. I can never stop thinking of you two.”
Optimus was able to recover enough higher thought processes to be playful and return the affection. He caught Megatron by the jaw and pulled him into a kiss that only spurred the silver mech on. Megatron broke away and took a position hovering over the two of them, switching to pepper rough kisses against Ratchet’s jaw and neck.
Megatron held back an undignified sound as Ratchet and Optimus’s hands wandered over his frame, tugging on whatever they could reach, seeking out warmth and connection.
Megatron pulled back after finishing with both of them and looked at them both with lidded optics. “There. A proper celebratory end to the holiday.”
Ratchet could barely glare, too blissed out to be mad. “I hate when I agree with you.”
“You love it,” Megatron murmured.
Optimus looked up at Megatron hovering over him, optics a bright blue despite the exhaustion on his features. “Stop teasing. Can’t you two get along?”
“Never,” Ratchet said quickly. “I have too much fun watching him try to win me over.”
Megatron huffed. “I’ll get you one day.”
Ratchet gave a sly smirk. “You already have. But I’m going to make you work for my affection.”