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caiusbackupTitle: Ars Amicitia et Remedia Amoris
Fandom: Transformers G1
Pairings: Ultra Magnus/Cyclonus, Galvatron/Cyclonus, Ultra Magnus/Rodimus
Rating: R
Word Count: 1300
Summary: Ultra Magnus doesn't understand Decepticons, even when they're his allies. Falling in love with one doesn't help.
Content advisory: Non-explicit plug-in-play, mentions of past rape.
Note: Title borrowed from Ovid, translates to 'The Art of Friendship and Cures for Love'.
Ultra Magnus knew that Decepticons had--different--sexual mores.
It had been a commonplace, even before Decepticons had become the enemy: Decepticons have no concept of love. No concept of bonding. And no concept of rape.
A Decepticon interfaces with his (rarely her) own, like them or not, consenting or not.
Occasionally Magnus had been a captive, himself a victim of Decepticon sexual morality.
More frequently, he had rescued violated Autobots, brought them back to a medic to have their systems cleaned of Decepticon code; or if there was no medic, done the best he could on his own.
(You never knew what you might get from a Decepticon. If there was an intelligence specialist present, important information could sometimes be extracted from contaminated databanks. More often than not, there wasn't.
Optimus had taken the best of those with him.)
So when Cyclonus spurned Magnus' offer of a handshake and pulled his counterpart into a kiss, Magnus didn't know quite what to make of it.
"Cyclonus--what--we're allies!" He pushed Cyclonus away.
"I thought so," Cyclonus said, arms crossed, optics glowing with affronted pride. "But if you won't seal the alliance, we aren't."
"....You want me to...Cyclonus, I'm not your captive!" Magnus' voice raised, interface circuits buzzing in remembered pain.
"Of course you aren't." Cyclonus said. "Leave, if you prefer." He turned half-away, disdaining Magnus' presence without letting Magnus out of his field of view.
"Cyclonus." Magnus had thought Cyclonus was reasonable--for a Decepticon. "You know you need our help to fight the Quintessons."
"We need nothing." Cyclonus declared.
Magnus sighed. He wasn't a diplomat, but he was the only Autobot Cyclonus would speak to. "Then what do you want of me?"
"If we are to be partners," Cyclonus turned back to him, stepping into his personal space but not touching him. "Then you must trust me. As team." The word he used was Decepticon-dialect, its connotations mysterious.
"As partners. Equals." Magnus said, bracing himself.
"Of course," Cyclonus said, disdainfully. He didn't move.
Magnus sighed, leaned forward slightly to close the distance between them, and pressed his lips to Cyclonus'. Just an alliance,, he reminded himself, repressing programming that, no longer categorizing the touch as rape, wanted to classify Cyclonus as a bondmate. Just an alliance...
Cyclonus deepened the kiss, his hands brushing down Magnus' sides, looking for his interface panel, or perhaps just touching for the sake of touching...and Magnus wrapped his arms around Cyclonus' waist and gave in.
If he fell in love with the Decepticon second, he would deal with it later.
*****
The best cure for love, Kup had said once, handing a gun to a heartsick Autobot, is to be busy.
And, fortunately, the new alliance and the great battles with the Quintessons kept Ultra Magnus very busy.
On the rare occasions he was alone with Cyclonus, there was always strategy to discuss; in fact, usually they were discussing it even as Cyclonus pulled him close, caressed him, plugged into his systems and brought him to ecstasy.
It gave him ample opportunity to admire Cyclonus' brilliance. How could someone so young already know so much of the ways of war?
Cyclonus was a miracle, brought to him by Primus himself--Magnus stopped that thought right there. No. Cyclonus was Unicron's spawn, and an ally of convenience only. Admiring one's enemy was permissible, even praiseworthy; but loving him...that led to a starring role in one of Kup's more fanciful, romantic, and tragic stories.
If Cyclonus could at least have felt the same way, then maybe--!
No, Magnus told himself. No. Cyclonus is a Decepticon. Decepticons do not love.
And if Cyclonus does love, he doesn't love you.
Magnus wasn't very good at reading emotions, but he would have had to be stupid to miss the way Cyclonus looked at, spoke of, spoke to, and knelt before Galvatron.
Fortunately, there were always Quintessons and Sharkticons to shoot.
And when the battles ended and Galvatron celebrated with his second?
There were casualties to see to, prisoners to take and question, a million tiny responsibilities that Cyclonus was not helping Ultra Magnus deal with.
Yes, Magnus was very busy. But he wasn't cured.
"Octane," Magnus waylaid the tanker from their baggage train.
Octane looked up at him guiltily. "Yes?"
Magnus should probably have asked what the traitor was up to; an army was only as good as its supply lines, and if Octane was diverting them for personal profit, he could lose them the entire war.
But that wasn't what Magnus had come to ask. "When a Decepticon says someone is 'team', what do they mean by it?"
Octane's guilty look dissolved into a smirk and a brow-raise, as though Magnus had made a particularly dirty joke. "That would depend on the context." He said 'context' like it meant something prurient.
Magnus wasn't about to give Octane any more gossip than he already had. "What are the possible meanings, then?"
Octane shrugged. "Can mean anything from 'husband'" -- he used the word for the human concept -- "to 'the fucking bastard I'm about to shoot in the face'. As I said, depends on context." He snorted. "'Course it could be the same mech in either case. You know how 'Cons are!"
"I do." Magnus gave up on any help from this quarter (but, on the other hand, 'husband'!) and glared down on Octane. "I've got records of what was put into your tank, and I'll get records of what comes out. Just a reminder."
"Of course, of course, you have nothing to worry about." Octane went back to looking guilty. Magnus stalked off.
Straight after, there was a long 'strategy session' with Cyclonus, and then when Magnus went back to his duties, he was treated to the sight of Galvatron loudly interfacing with his second in the middle of the encampment.
Even the Autobots barely paid them any mind anymore, aside from the occasional leer, but while he looked away quickly, Magnus just couldn't. Stop. Thinking about it.
He lost track three times in his inventory, and was almost cursing out loud by the time Rodimus found him.
"Hey." Rodimus put a hand on his shoulder. "You look like you need a break."
"I wouldn't," Magnus snapped, "if someone would stop making so much noise!"
"Whoa," Rodimus rubbed his shoulder until Magnus jerked away, annoyed. "They do that every day, you know."
"Really. I hadn't noticed." Magnus looked back at his list. He had no idea where he'd left off.
"Magnus..." Rodimus extended a hand, not touching this time, just offering. "We could make some noise of our own."
"It's not right," Magnus snapped. "Decepticons can 'face whoever they want, but we're better than that. Supposed to be better than that."
"Magnus. Ultra Magnus," Rodimus said, and he actually sounded commanding. Magnus looked back up at him, in surprise. "Interfacing is supposed to be for someone you love. And I love you."
"I love you too, but not--" Magnus was about to say that it wasn't the same, but he didn't have the words to explain. Maybe the Decepticons did. "Not." Not like I love Cyclonus, he meant, but he couldn't very well say that.
"And one of our great gifts, as Autobots, is that we can love many, many different sentient beings over our lifetimes." Rodimus raised his hand up toward Magnus' faceplates. Magnus took it, startled, squeezing the metal but not hindering Rodimus from touching his cheek. "Love me, Magnus. For both of us."
Magnus had no words, but a kiss seemed to do the job just fine.
Fandom: Transformers G1
Pairings: Ultra Magnus/Cyclonus, Galvatron/Cyclonus, Ultra Magnus/Rodimus
Rating: R
Word Count: 1300
Summary: Ultra Magnus doesn't understand Decepticons, even when they're his allies. Falling in love with one doesn't help.
Content advisory: Non-explicit plug-in-play, mentions of past rape.
Note: Title borrowed from Ovid, translates to 'The Art of Friendship and Cures for Love'.
Ultra Magnus knew that Decepticons had--different--sexual mores.
It had been a commonplace, even before Decepticons had become the enemy: Decepticons have no concept of love. No concept of bonding. And no concept of rape.
A Decepticon interfaces with his (rarely her) own, like them or not, consenting or not.
Occasionally Magnus had been a captive, himself a victim of Decepticon sexual morality.
More frequently, he had rescued violated Autobots, brought them back to a medic to have their systems cleaned of Decepticon code; or if there was no medic, done the best he could on his own.
(You never knew what you might get from a Decepticon. If there was an intelligence specialist present, important information could sometimes be extracted from contaminated databanks. More often than not, there wasn't.
Optimus had taken the best of those with him.)
So when Cyclonus spurned Magnus' offer of a handshake and pulled his counterpart into a kiss, Magnus didn't know quite what to make of it.
"Cyclonus--what--we're allies!" He pushed Cyclonus away.
"I thought so," Cyclonus said, arms crossed, optics glowing with affronted pride. "But if you won't seal the alliance, we aren't."
"....You want me to...Cyclonus, I'm not your captive!" Magnus' voice raised, interface circuits buzzing in remembered pain.
"Of course you aren't." Cyclonus said. "Leave, if you prefer." He turned half-away, disdaining Magnus' presence without letting Magnus out of his field of view.
"Cyclonus." Magnus had thought Cyclonus was reasonable--for a Decepticon. "You know you need our help to fight the Quintessons."
"We need nothing." Cyclonus declared.
Magnus sighed. He wasn't a diplomat, but he was the only Autobot Cyclonus would speak to. "Then what do you want of me?"
"If we are to be partners," Cyclonus turned back to him, stepping into his personal space but not touching him. "Then you must trust me. As team." The word he used was Decepticon-dialect, its connotations mysterious.
"As partners. Equals." Magnus said, bracing himself.
"Of course," Cyclonus said, disdainfully. He didn't move.
Magnus sighed, leaned forward slightly to close the distance between them, and pressed his lips to Cyclonus'. Just an alliance,, he reminded himself, repressing programming that, no longer categorizing the touch as rape, wanted to classify Cyclonus as a bondmate. Just an alliance...
Cyclonus deepened the kiss, his hands brushing down Magnus' sides, looking for his interface panel, or perhaps just touching for the sake of touching...and Magnus wrapped his arms around Cyclonus' waist and gave in.
If he fell in love with the Decepticon second, he would deal with it later.
*****
The best cure for love, Kup had said once, handing a gun to a heartsick Autobot, is to be busy.
And, fortunately, the new alliance and the great battles with the Quintessons kept Ultra Magnus very busy.
On the rare occasions he was alone with Cyclonus, there was always strategy to discuss; in fact, usually they were discussing it even as Cyclonus pulled him close, caressed him, plugged into his systems and brought him to ecstasy.
It gave him ample opportunity to admire Cyclonus' brilliance. How could someone so young already know so much of the ways of war?
Cyclonus was a miracle, brought to him by Primus himself--Magnus stopped that thought right there. No. Cyclonus was Unicron's spawn, and an ally of convenience only. Admiring one's enemy was permissible, even praiseworthy; but loving him...that led to a starring role in one of Kup's more fanciful, romantic, and tragic stories.
If Cyclonus could at least have felt the same way, then maybe--!
No, Magnus told himself. No. Cyclonus is a Decepticon. Decepticons do not love.
And if Cyclonus does love, he doesn't love you.
Magnus wasn't very good at reading emotions, but he would have had to be stupid to miss the way Cyclonus looked at, spoke of, spoke to, and knelt before Galvatron.
Fortunately, there were always Quintessons and Sharkticons to shoot.
And when the battles ended and Galvatron celebrated with his second?
There were casualties to see to, prisoners to take and question, a million tiny responsibilities that Cyclonus was not helping Ultra Magnus deal with.
Yes, Magnus was very busy. But he wasn't cured.
"Octane," Magnus waylaid the tanker from their baggage train.
Octane looked up at him guiltily. "Yes?"
Magnus should probably have asked what the traitor was up to; an army was only as good as its supply lines, and if Octane was diverting them for personal profit, he could lose them the entire war.
But that wasn't what Magnus had come to ask. "When a Decepticon says someone is 'team', what do they mean by it?"
Octane's guilty look dissolved into a smirk and a brow-raise, as though Magnus had made a particularly dirty joke. "That would depend on the context." He said 'context' like it meant something prurient.
Magnus wasn't about to give Octane any more gossip than he already had. "What are the possible meanings, then?"
Octane shrugged. "Can mean anything from 'husband'" -- he used the word for the human concept -- "to 'the fucking bastard I'm about to shoot in the face'. As I said, depends on context." He snorted. "'Course it could be the same mech in either case. You know how 'Cons are!"
"I do." Magnus gave up on any help from this quarter (but, on the other hand, 'husband'!) and glared down on Octane. "I've got records of what was put into your tank, and I'll get records of what comes out. Just a reminder."
"Of course, of course, you have nothing to worry about." Octane went back to looking guilty. Magnus stalked off.
Straight after, there was a long 'strategy session' with Cyclonus, and then when Magnus went back to his duties, he was treated to the sight of Galvatron loudly interfacing with his second in the middle of the encampment.
Even the Autobots barely paid them any mind anymore, aside from the occasional leer, but while he looked away quickly, Magnus just couldn't. Stop. Thinking about it.
He lost track three times in his inventory, and was almost cursing out loud by the time Rodimus found him.
"Hey." Rodimus put a hand on his shoulder. "You look like you need a break."
"I wouldn't," Magnus snapped, "if someone would stop making so much noise!"
"Whoa," Rodimus rubbed his shoulder until Magnus jerked away, annoyed. "They do that every day, you know."
"Really. I hadn't noticed." Magnus looked back at his list. He had no idea where he'd left off.
"Magnus..." Rodimus extended a hand, not touching this time, just offering. "We could make some noise of our own."
"It's not right," Magnus snapped. "Decepticons can 'face whoever they want, but we're better than that. Supposed to be better than that."
"Magnus. Ultra Magnus," Rodimus said, and he actually sounded commanding. Magnus looked back up at him, in surprise. "Interfacing is supposed to be for someone you love. And I love you."
"I love you too, but not--" Magnus was about to say that it wasn't the same, but he didn't have the words to explain. Maybe the Decepticons did. "Not." Not like I love Cyclonus, he meant, but he couldn't very well say that.
"And one of our great gifts, as Autobots, is that we can love many, many different sentient beings over our lifetimes." Rodimus raised his hand up toward Magnus' faceplates. Magnus took it, startled, squeezing the metal but not hindering Rodimus from touching his cheek. "Love me, Magnus. For both of us."
Magnus had no words, but a kiss seemed to do the job just fine.
