Galvatron covered Hot Rod's mouth with one hand, pinning his head to the berth and muffling his voice at once. "We knew as we faced off that one of us would die," he hissed in Hot Rod's audial. "He beat me nearly senseless, but I found his weak point and hit it again and again. Even so, he won the battle for endurance: he remained standing when I fell, though our injuries were equal in severity."
Hot Rod's voice keened past Galvatron's hand, high and wordless. "Ah, you remember this bit," Galvatron purred. "Yes - I was about to surprise him and strike the final blow, until you interfered, Autobot." For a moment his voice dropped too low to be quite Galvatron's own, hoarse and avaricious and sinister. "Did you really think to wrestle me into submission?"
Hot Rod's optics shut off and he keened again, shaking with the stress and sorrow and guilt that had hounded him since that moment. "Ah, ah," Galvatron warned, sounding like himself again, "that's where you're wrong. When I made my move, Hot Rod, we were well within Optimus Prime's range of perfect accuracy. He had his rifle in his hand. He could have taken my head off with it, and you would have never gotten a scratch. He didn't use it. Why didn't he shoot?"
Hot Rod risked a glance up, despite himself; Galvatron's voice had gone high, and - he hardly dared to think it - almost pained. But the moment didn't last, and Galvatron smirked down at him again.
"The rest you know, I think. Unicron, my creation, the Matrix... and you, Chosen One, stepping up to accept the power Optimus never wielded, to do what he never could have done." Galvatron's touch gentled, stroked over Hot Rod's mouth. "Even tamed me, haven't you? Foolish creature, don't ever think you were a poor replacement for Optimus. As far as I'm concerned you outshone him long ago."
It took several tries before Hot Rod found his voice. "You're not tame, Galvatron."
Galvatron laughed, tossing back his head. He rolled his greater bulk off of his lover and this time, when Hot Rod curled up and clung to him, his attention and his spark were for Galvatron alone.
All as it should be, Galvatron thought with a satisfied purr, and curled his hand possessively around his Prime's nape.