[TFP] Somewhere Between
a/n: Written for Jarofloosescrews' birthday back in February. Very proud of this one. ^_^
Title: Somewhere Between
Universe: TFP, pre-canon
Rating: M
Enticements: PnP, Angst
Description: The promise has always been a lie, one neither of them can keep. And yet, Soundwave persists.
//Come Soundwave.//
//It doesn’t have to mean anything.//
//We are simply two officers consoling one another.//
//We were left behind by our dear master, after all.//
//Do you not agree?//
It feels like betrayal.
No.
A lie.
It feels like a slow burn. Like lightning in his lines, charge in his sensornet. It feels like power. Lust. Pleasure. It intoxicates. Invigorates.
Suffocates.
Starscream writhes beneath him, his frame a sinuous wave caught in the grips of ecstasy. Charge crackles from his substructure. His engine purrs and cajoles. His claws slip and slide into seams, hooking on armor plates, keeping Soundwave close.
His ex-vents fog Soundwave’s mask. The sounds he makes echo in Soundwave’s audials. Recorded. Preserved. Saved.
Soundwave records. Always. Sight and sound, emotion and observation. He must present a report to Lord Megatron, when he returns. Yet, Soundwave tells himself to purge the intimate moments. They are irrelevant.
He doesn’t.
His manipulators wrap around Starscream, heavy bindings, tingling where the Seeker’s charge bites him. Electric fire crackles where they are connected, interface cables swaying between them, blue fire dancing along their lengths.
Starscream gasps. He laughs. He purrs, “You’ll join me yet,” and the surge of pleasure doubles in intensity.
Soundwave trembles. This is a battle in which he is outmatched. Where Starscream proves superior.
Too long has Soundwave spent detached, cabled to insentient machinery, chained to the cause. It’s left him unprepared, sensitive to the simple pleasure of touch, to connection to another mech.
//We are in mourning, Soundwave.//
His manipulators shudder. Fire licks through his sensornet.
Starscream looks at him. Smug. Appreciative. Charming.
He strokes taloned fingertips over delicate cables and into vulnerable seams and over his substructure. Soundwave tucks his helm.
He’ll not bare his throat. This is not surrender. He is not on bended knee, optical feed tracing the pointed jut of Starscream’s feet, the sleek rise of his leg. Neither does he tremble in the shadow of quivering wings, or purr under that heavy, volcanic gaze.
Starscream is beneath him, pinned, subdued. He is the one with intake bared.
So why does Soundwave feel as if he is prey?
Starscream arches up, his cockpit chiming against Soundwave’s empty dock. Charge slithers from his port to Soundwave’s. Electric and consuming.
Intoxicating.
Soundwave hungers, and once again, is tempered by the suggestion - betrayal.
Lies.
Lust and need, instead, swallowing him whole. He teeters on the edge, charge snarling in his lines, begging to be unleashed. So heavy, so searing, it hurts. Yet, he clings to it.
Starscream slips a talon into a seam, perilously close to a main energon line. Soundwave should be uneasy. Starscream, after all, is treachery personified.
//We only have each other now.//
Soundwave shatters, visor striped in electric grays, his audials filled with static. A binary sound spills from his speakers as Starscream’s voice slithers across their connection.
//You can’t betray what’s been left behind.//
It follows him into darkness until he reboots, splayed atop Starscream. Still online, the Seeker purrs as he strokes Soundwave’s back and arms, an imitation of lover’s affection. They are still connected, the cables limp and warm between them. Starscream’s presence hovers, humored and self-satisfied, observant at the distant edge of Soundwave’s awareness.
//It doesn’t have to mean anything.//
The promise rattles in Soundwave’s processor, and echoes in his memory bank. A promise given when Starscream first invited Soundwave into his berth, and driven by weakness, Soundwave had accepted.
He rests his head on Starscream’s chassis, his manipulators clinging to the Seeker. He knows.
The promise is a lie. One they cannot keep.
Soundwave listens to the spin and hum of Starscream’s spark. He records it, this sound no longer irrelevant.
It feels like betrayal.
He’s no longer capable of knowing which is which.
****
a/n: Ahh, this made me want to rewatch TFP all over again. This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/363289.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.
Title: Somewhere Between
Universe: TFP, pre-canon
Rating: M
Enticements: PnP, Angst
Description: The promise has always been a lie, one neither of them can keep. And yet, Soundwave persists.
//Come Soundwave.//
//It doesn’t have to mean anything.//
//We are simply two officers consoling one another.//
//We were left behind by our dear master, after all.//
//Do you not agree?//
It feels like betrayal.
No.
A lie.
It feels like a slow burn. Like lightning in his lines, charge in his sensornet. It feels like power. Lust. Pleasure. It intoxicates. Invigorates.
Suffocates.
Starscream writhes beneath him, his frame a sinuous wave caught in the grips of ecstasy. Charge crackles from his substructure. His engine purrs and cajoles. His claws slip and slide into seams, hooking on armor plates, keeping Soundwave close.
His ex-vents fog Soundwave’s mask. The sounds he makes echo in Soundwave’s audials. Recorded. Preserved. Saved.
Soundwave records. Always. Sight and sound, emotion and observation. He must present a report to Lord Megatron, when he returns. Yet, Soundwave tells himself to purge the intimate moments. They are irrelevant.
He doesn’t.
His manipulators wrap around Starscream, heavy bindings, tingling where the Seeker’s charge bites him. Electric fire crackles where they are connected, interface cables swaying between them, blue fire dancing along their lengths.
Starscream gasps. He laughs. He purrs, “You’ll join me yet,” and the surge of pleasure doubles in intensity.
Soundwave trembles. This is a battle in which he is outmatched. Where Starscream proves superior.
Too long has Soundwave spent detached, cabled to insentient machinery, chained to the cause. It’s left him unprepared, sensitive to the simple pleasure of touch, to connection to another mech.
//We are in mourning, Soundwave.//
His manipulators shudder. Fire licks through his sensornet.
Starscream looks at him. Smug. Appreciative. Charming.
He strokes taloned fingertips over delicate cables and into vulnerable seams and over his substructure. Soundwave tucks his helm.
He’ll not bare his throat. This is not surrender. He is not on bended knee, optical feed tracing the pointed jut of Starscream’s feet, the sleek rise of his leg. Neither does he tremble in the shadow of quivering wings, or purr under that heavy, volcanic gaze.
Starscream is beneath him, pinned, subdued. He is the one with intake bared.
So why does Soundwave feel as if he is prey?
Starscream arches up, his cockpit chiming against Soundwave’s empty dock. Charge slithers from his port to Soundwave’s. Electric and consuming.
Intoxicating.
Soundwave hungers, and once again, is tempered by the suggestion - betrayal.
Lies.
Lust and need, instead, swallowing him whole. He teeters on the edge, charge snarling in his lines, begging to be unleashed. So heavy, so searing, it hurts. Yet, he clings to it.
Starscream slips a talon into a seam, perilously close to a main energon line. Soundwave should be uneasy. Starscream, after all, is treachery personified.
//We only have each other now.//
Soundwave shatters, visor striped in electric grays, his audials filled with static. A binary sound spills from his speakers as Starscream’s voice slithers across their connection.
//You can’t betray what’s been left behind.//
It follows him into darkness until he reboots, splayed atop Starscream. Still online, the Seeker purrs as he strokes Soundwave’s back and arms, an imitation of lover’s affection. They are still connected, the cables limp and warm between them. Starscream’s presence hovers, humored and self-satisfied, observant at the distant edge of Soundwave’s awareness.
//It doesn’t have to mean anything.//
The promise rattles in Soundwave’s processor, and echoes in his memory bank. A promise given when Starscream first invited Soundwave into his berth, and driven by weakness, Soundwave had accepted.
He rests his head on Starscream’s chassis, his manipulators clinging to the Seeker. He knows.
The promise is a lie. One they cannot keep.
Soundwave listens to the spin and hum of Starscream’s spark. He records it, this sound no longer irrelevant.
It feels like betrayal.
He’s no longer capable of knowing which is which.
****
a/n: Ahh, this made me want to rewatch TFP all over again. This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/363289.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.