A/N: Megatron/Soundwave. Ficlet. Tactile, non-sticky, you know the drill.

This is actually a difficult ship for me because they're both gladiators, I see them both as alpha so I have a hard time picturing either of them submitting to each other. So it became impossible for me to write them as normal lovers or even casual, if that makes sense?

But it didn't seem so farfetched that Megatron is the type to reward good work, something I've sort of touched on before (and that maybe Starscream learned from him, copycat). I couldn't just write it straight up interfacing or straight up thoughtful emotional attachment crap or silly smut for smut's sake. So this actually turned out to be a mixture of those, and I'm not sure if it works to have mixed tones but it was worth a try.


Lord Megatron had returned. This rang deep in every Decepticon's spark. There was no need for fear any longer. Their leader was with them again and all was right. Every mech made sure to stand up straight, do their best. Starscream was at his side and seemed a little bit disappointed, but that was hardly a surprise.

But Soundwave still had work to do. Megatron needed his report, after all.

Slender fingers tapped over silver armor. Servo settled aside the dark brand, soft and humble. Helm bowed deeply.

Master.

Talons hooked into backstrut. Hinges locked tight. Lithe, dark frame stretched and sighed in their hold. Fields melded together on a frequency that only they shared. That only they knew.

Two Decepticons, two gladiators, two sparks determined to overcome. To fight. To win.

Soundwave was lifted and leaned his weight on the strong weaponed arm holding him. Long arms stretched back to maintain balance.

Scarred lips turned up over fanged denta, not ravenous or dominating but knowing. Familiar. They shared many a match in the arena before the war. Many a quiet refueling after being patched up. During impassioned speeches to the masses of drones, Soundwave stood diligent at his side while Laserbeak circled overhead.

Loyal and proud. Megatron was his leader and nothing would ever change that. Not three years apart, not three vorns apart. He lived to serve his lord.

"Soundwave," Megatron rumbled. His claw scraped near Laserbeak and the tiny 'con shivered. "Report."

The spy tilted his dark visor down for his master to see and the display shuffled. Various images rotated; energon stockpiling, the mine, a certain Seeker overseeing duties, human constructions, satellites.

Megatron traded this information for touches. Small scrapes under plating. Pressing at seams, nudging gaps in plating. His field stroked Soundwave deeply and the spy lost focus, helm turning at an angle and stopping the photo feed.

The larger Decepticon stopped his hands. "Continue," he ordered.

With a succinct nod, Soundwave realigned his visor and played out a map. A pulsing red dot indicated detection of energon deposits, and his speakers beeped with every shift in geography.

Megatron rewarded him by mouthing his chassis roughly and the usually poised 'con lost composure for all of a scrabbling nano-klik. But he didn't halt this time, and pinched with denta, energy field becoming a relentless vibration. Glossa dipped into abdominal armor and Soundwave arched.

Arms shifted now and spindly fingers reached out. Cables slithered to cold silver metal, squeezing generously, longingly.

Master, Master.

Soundwave's display shifted to waveforms, and despite his writhing he began playback. Megatron's optics shuttered closed as he listened to the collection of audio samples, and through it all he kept clawing at plates and straining wires and biting metal.

Laserbeak was no doubt enjoying the energy feedback and shook in little rattles on Soundwave's chest. Static fizzled as a throb began in the lights adorning his frame, and Megatron could detect it without even seeing it. The spy was a ball of thrumming bliss in his claws. He had total control over every ounce of pleasure that made the 'con shake and rattle and roll his helm.

Curiosity got the better of the silver gladiator and he opened crimson optics once more to gaze up at Soundwave. The spy was filled to the brim with heat and pleasure, fans working desperately to expel hot air. The audio playback was barely comprehensible at this point, all distorted pitches and hisses of static as Soundwave attempted to report for his master.

Finally the 'con pulled his helm forward again and peered down soundlessly at Megatron, every plate twitching, begging to release the charge within. Laserbeak looked about to fall off.

It would indeed be entertaining to see how much longer he could drag this out. But it had been a while, and Soundwave had done a good job of keeping an eye on things with Starscream. He had earned this.

Decision made, Megatron sank fangs into pelvic plating, throttling his communications expert with energy. Talons clamped hard to keep him from thrashing out of his hold. Soundwave practically burst all at once, arms snapping tight, chassis bucking and seizing, dragging his master's teeth. Helm turned about as protoform contractions overtook his entire frame.

Though it was always a delight to hear your partner scream their overload, there was something sinfully intoxicating about watching Soundwave silently lose control of his motor functions and just come.

Limp in his hold, the spy's frame expanded in tired ventilations. Megatron lapped at his plating where sharp denta had drawn energon, and a chuckle rose in his chest when he saw that Laserbeak drooped weakly on his parent's front.

"Your loyalty will always be rewarded, Soundwave," Megatron murmured, lowering the spent 'con.

Angled pedes found floor and Soundwave stood up straight despite his exhaustion. Cables uncoiled from around Megatron's arms and slowly began to retract into his frame. Despite this, long claws still rested on broad silver chest.

Megatron cocked his helm in question, though there was a knowing twitch of his lip plates.

"Report," Soundwave sampled back after a moment, stepping closer, reaching out with a faint field.

"Surely three ano-cycles didn't require that much logging?"

"Report," the spy repeated, tilting visor up. Colorful charts displayed, all with past stardates.

Megatron's ridges rose in amusement. "I doubt my time away warrants a scan," he vocalized. Still, he stepped back. The deep neon lighting of his chambers glimmered off of his fine plating. With an upturned mouthplate, he sat on the berth. "But if you require readings for your logs, then by all means, Soundwave. Scan."

Cables released once again, like they couldn't wait for permission, and Soundwave eagerly followed.

Megatron was never unimpressed at his spy's ability to multitask. Taking sparkpulse readings while riding another mech's lap must be taxing on the systems.

Soundwave was a loyal Decepticon indeed.