Yanking his hand from around Optimus' spike as the overload rushed through his Prime, he tangled both hands with Optimus' and cut down on several non-essential functions to not let Optimus' bright lash of energy pull him along with it.
Audials and vocals were cut, as well as part of his net of sensor nodes... He didn't need all of them, and he couldn't quite convince himself to deaden the sensors in his spike because the madly fluttering absolutely nearly too-tight and perfectly fitting valve was... not something he could give up.
And neither would he give up the sight he was presented with, so Megatron's sharp groan was as soundless as Optimus', helm snapping back, but not in overload. Rather it was because of the sensations and working very hard with not overriding his own charge-reroute routine.
Shoulders trembling as Optimus settled down, Megatron let out a deep, too hot vent of wasted air and turned off and took off the cuffs, along with the gag. He slid out very slowly, grimacing both at the feel (or lack of it) as well as the emptily grabbing and twisting ports scattered around. Not even his valve was unaffected, but that was merely because he'd been forced to redirect some of the charge there. The ports were a larger issue, because he felt sort of... bereft.
Empty, and that annoyed him.
But he couldn't focus on that, and just sat back for a moment on the opposite of Optimus' sprawled-out form, tense where his Prime was limp, and it took a bit to convince his systems to withdraw his spike.
His whole Primus-damned frame ached, but he needed to give Optimus the full explanation before he left and took care of his little... problem. And he had to ignore the undertone whisper flickering along about asking Optimus to pull out his cables.
no subject
Audials and vocals were cut, as well as part of his net of sensor nodes... He didn't need all of them, and he couldn't quite convince himself to deaden the sensors in his spike because the madly fluttering absolutely nearly too-tight and perfectly fitting valve was... not something he could give up.
And neither would he give up the sight he was presented with, so Megatron's sharp groan was as soundless as Optimus', helm snapping back, but not in overload. Rather it was because of the sensations and working very hard with not overriding his own charge-reroute routine.
Shoulders trembling as Optimus settled down, Megatron let out a deep, too hot vent of wasted air and turned off and took off the cuffs, along with the gag. He slid out very slowly, grimacing both at the feel (or lack of it) as well as the emptily grabbing and twisting ports scattered around. Not even his valve was unaffected, but that was merely because he'd been forced to redirect some of the charge there. The ports were a larger issue, because he felt sort of... bereft.
Empty, and that annoyed him.
But he couldn't focus on that, and just sat back for a moment on the opposite of Optimus' sprawled-out form, tense where his Prime was limp, and it took a bit to convince his systems to withdraw his spike.
His whole Primus-damned frame ached, but he needed to give Optimus the full explanation before he left and took care of his little... problem. And he had to ignore the undertone whisper flickering along about asking Optimus to pull out his cables.
No.
Not the point.