"Attacking you to restrain you, which was the real goal, and no. I'm not getting off." Megatron carefully kept his voice even, helm slightly cocked, and held the cube in both hands to make sure he wouldn't be jarred enough by Optimus' struggles to spill any.

The cuffs weren't at maximum power, so he could up them to that and thus have Optimus go completely limp, especially when the Prime was obviously low on fuel, but where would the interest be in that?

"Optimus. You still have use of your comms." Megatron paused, staring his Prime full in the optics, gaze boring into them in an attempt to make it clear that technically... Optimus could free himself.

"This isn't an attempt at murder, blackmail, exhortion, torture or anything else unsavory... Though depending on how you feel about being fed, there might be an element of humiliation in this." He still wasn't smiling, even if he wanted to at that last point. "But you are, of course, free to contact your security if you actually think I'm about to messily end your life and then refuel while sitting on your corpse, despite the fact that I could leave." He couldn't quite keep the slight edge out of his tone by now; did Optimus truly think he was about to offline him, after their discussion earlier?