While he obviously didn't say that, or even use his comms. now that he had them back with the disabling of the consort-convict programming and the danger of the shell program lost, the dry, slightly arch glance Megatron angled up at Optimus from under the edge of the rim of his helm even as he drank said it plainly enough.
Not that that small cube was enough, but it was nice enough to have anything, and there was a slightly annoyed, drawn-out grumble from his engine when the cube ran dry. Casting another, more thoughtful glance up at Optimus, optics travelling slowly up along his Prime's frame, Megatron considered things.
There wasn't much he could do like this, here, and anything he could do would only last until Optimus got his wits back, by virtue of how he was restrained... But even a few moments of taking back a bit of control would show (for himself as much as Optimus) that he could...
He might have been frustrated and even remorseful that what he'd done yesterday, but that didn't mean he still wouldn't fight as well as he could at the moment... With a snort and his optics glowly dimly carmine, Megatron leaned forward, using his helm to move Optimus' hand and the empty cube out of the way.
He wouldn't have long, but even a moment of reaction would be good enough right now, and so he licked down the front of Optimus' pelvic armour, following the faint outlines of the interface panel with his tongue before humming, his engine thrumming in counterpoint, against the metal.
no subject
While he obviously didn't say that, or even use his comms. now that he had them back with the disabling of the consort-convict programming and the danger of the shell program lost, the dry, slightly arch glance Megatron angled up at Optimus from under the edge of the rim of his helm even as he drank said it plainly enough.
Not that that small cube was enough, but it was nice enough to have anything, and there was a slightly annoyed, drawn-out grumble from his engine when the cube ran dry. Casting another, more thoughtful glance up at Optimus, optics travelling slowly up along his Prime's frame, Megatron considered things.
There wasn't much he could do like this, here, and anything he could do would only last until Optimus got his wits back, by virtue of how he was restrained... But even a few moments of taking back a bit of control would show (for himself as much as Optimus) that he could...
He might have been frustrated and even remorseful that what he'd done yesterday, but that didn't mean he still wouldn't fight as well as he could at the moment... With a snort and his optics glowly dimly carmine, Megatron leaned forward, using his helm to move Optimus' hand and the empty cube out of the way.
He wouldn't have long, but even a moment of reaction would be good enough right now, and so he licked down the front of Optimus' pelvic armour, following the faint outlines of the interface panel with his tongue before humming, his engine thrumming in counterpoint, against the metal.