The command centre had long gone dark, save for the ambient glow of screens on standby and a few flickering overhead lights casting shadows across the metal floor. Most of the AI staff had logged out or shut down for the cycle, leaving the space hushed and still.

Auklet stood near the center of the room, her green armor gleaming faintly under the emergency lights. Her plane wings twitched ever so slightly, like she was waiting for something... or someone.

The large connected doors hissed open.

You stepped in, your presence immediately commanding. You didn’t need to speak to be heard. Your lineage carried in every step, the unmistakable air of Megatron’s heir. But when your optics landed on Auklet, something shifted behind them. The weight of command fell away, and something warmer settled in.

“You’re still here,” you said, voice low, walking toward your second-in-command with slow, deliberate steps.

“I was waiting,” Auklet replied, quietly. “You’ve been running nonstop all day. I thought... maybe you’d want a moment to breathe.”

Your smirk softened into something unreadable, something tender, and perhaps dangerous. “You’ve always known what I need, haven’t you?”

“I try,” Auklet murmured, eyes not quite meeting yours.

The silence stretched, thick and magnetic.

“Music,” you said suddenly. With a flick of your fingers, a low, sultry beat started to pulse from a nearby console. Slow. Smooth. The kind of rhythm that didn’t ask for words, only movement.

Auklet’s gaze lifted, startled. “You want to dance?”

“No,” you said, stepping closer, so close your voice was nearly at Auklet’s audio receiver. “I want you to dance with me.”

The room felt smaller. Hotter.

Auklet’s plating flushed faintly, her spark fluttering with something nervous and electric. But she obeyed, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. She reached for you, servos finding your waist, drawing you in close.

You let out a breath, something between a sigh and a chuckle, and wrapped your arms around Auklet’s shoulders, your fingers playing with the seams near the base of her wings.

They swayed together, slow and intimate. Not a formal dance, but a sensual, quiet rhythm that existed only between them. Touches lingered. Fingers traced plating with unspoken affection and deep, burning familiarity.

“You don’t have to wait on me like this,” you whispered against her helm. “But you do anyway.”

“I’m yours,” Auklet breathed, tilting her helm just enough to press their foreheads together. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”

You closed your optics, holding her tighter. “Good. Because when I take my father’s throne... you’re coming with me. Not just as second-in-command.”

You tilted Auklet’s chin up with a single, firm finger.

“But as mine.”

And in the dim quiet of the core, surrounded by circuits, pulsing light, and the soft hum of their joined sparks, you kissed—slow and deep, like you had all the time in the galaxy to fall even further in love.