Chapter Text
The meeting went as usual. Megatron bragged about his awesome plan that would defeat the Autobots once and for all, Starscream bitched about Megatron’s plan, speaking his opinion very audibly that it sucked. Thundercracker facepalmed the entire time. Skywarp laughed his aft off when no one was looking. Soundwave was as silent as ever beside Skywarp.
Onslaught fought the urge to just get up and walk away from the room. The mission was quite important, if it was not to be launched anytime soon. Next to him, maybe a little too close, he could see Scrapper was trying to properly concentrate on his datapad, probably designing something. Across the table he saw Motormaster keeping his mouth in a straight line, watching the entire drama. Hook fell asleep on the table. Even Vortex got bored and stopped poking the medic.
Yes, it was like the usual meeting.
Huffing in annoyance, he lay back on the chair, hands on the armrests. His visor gleamed for a while, then dimmed again as he recalled what happened last night. Last night with Blast Off was a pleasant one, although they didn’t have the time to be more intimate; Vortex was still Vortex. And Brawl couldn’t stop whining about the Victory’s shooting range. Ons had told him firmly that the repair would begin next week because too much water was inside, but the tank was too hyperactive not to blow something up. So Onslaught dumped him on the beach and made him think that that one rock was mocking him.
The charge from last night still lingered, though, and it made a pleasant buzz in his frame. He looked around, no one was concentrating on Megatron and Starscream anymore, save Motormaster and probably Soundwave. No one really knew what was inside their Communication Officer’s mind. Except for the fact that he had a good-looking, well-polished blue boxy frame.
Ah, Soundwave. Onslaught’s mind wavered at the thought.
The TIC was quietly brilliant. He was one of the brightest minds in the Decepticon army. Silently, he figuratively knew everything. No wonder Megatron trusted him so much. Even after the truck came online in this pathetic little planet, Soundwave was quick to become a respectful command staff on the army on his mind. He had the wits, so trustworthy and ever obedient to whomever he followed. He was one picture of perfection. It was almost a shame that he chose to follow Megatron.
Ons’ visor dimmed, lips set in a smile behind his mask as the charge pleasantly travelled through his frame and his field wavered slightly. He looked at the tapedeck, he was doing something with his datapad, probably reviewing the meeting. In Ons’ opinion, today’s meeting was useless, a waste of time, but perhaps Soundwave was able to collect some info and write them down, no matter how useless they might be. Onslaught’s optics slowly followed the blue helm and that pristine white mask below the neutral red visor. What would Soundwave look like? Was he using the mask because of the same reason as him? Did he ever take his mask off?
He leant on the table as his optics drifted lower to the abdomen. Soundwave was a tapedeck, so he had to be smaller than he actually was. Where would all those mass go when he transformed? He had seen his alt mode, and it was even smaller than a human’s hand. His subspace must be so big. But in this root mode, he was a joy to look at. Those strong blue shoulder, the wide chest that housed his cassettes’ dock. How big was his dock? Could all of his cassettes fit in there? Were the glass and the rim of his dock sensitive to touch?
He hoped he could see lower, as the rest were hidden under the table.
Which brought another question, would Soundwave like to frag or be fragged?
He chuckled; his heavy voice and the slight tingle of his field made Scrapper turned to look at him. Onslaught ignored the questioning look the Constructicon leader gave him, and the excavator returned to his datapad. He snickered, looking at him from the corner of his optics.
Maybe the meeting was not a complete waste of time after all.
His visor dimmed more as he closed his optics. Soundwave was an ever-silent person, even more so than Blast Off. Was he submissive, or quietly dominant? Did he like to be told what to do, as he usually seemed, or inside did he want to be in power? The truck didn’t like to know much of someone he didn’t know, much less spy on them, but suddenly he felt a bit curious about the tapedeck.
He would be a joy to frag with. Ons wouldn’t object if Soundwave decided to use some ropes on him, or toys, or both. He was a mystery to him, and he valued someone who knew when to shut up and listen and when to speak up--maybe in the tapedeck’s case he listened a little bit too much. He spoke only when necessary. Would he be vocal when they were fragging, or holding back his moans and cries? Both cases, the truck would enjoy.
Fragging Soundwave would be good.
Onslaught lay back on the chair, hands above his crotch as to try to hold his pressurising spike. He tried to keep his field in check, at least to not touch Scrapper’s because he was sure it was radiating his horniness. He’d lay Soundwave on a berth, their difference in height was almost non-existent. He would grind their fields together, let him feel his lust, and take the other mask’s off, no matter whether the other want or didn’t want. He’d kiss him slowly at first, while his hands gripped the tapedeck’s sides—oh no, he’d kiss him roughly as his hands wandered to all places they could reach.
He would pry the other’s interfacing panel and sucked the spike within. Was his spike white or blue? Or some unique combination of the two? Either way, he’d suck the dick with gusto while Soundwave would writhe and buck his hips. He’d love to hear the cries and moans the other made while he enjoyed the spike. His one hand would probably be playing with his dripping valve. And when the other overloaded, he’d make sure that he saw how the other’s expression was in bliss and that no spurt of transfluid escaped his lips. Oh yeah, that would do.
After, he’d pull the mech and toyed with him until he begged to be fragged. He would tease the other by slamming his own spike to the valve, only to back out again. Again and again until the tapedeck was panting and begging. He would then enter his valve, slowly caressing the internal nodes with his spike and enjoying the heat that enveloped his valve. The truck would frag him roughly, or in mock-softly, because why not? The mech would then be panting and whimpering and moaning like a slut anyway, begging for more and more. All the while Onslaught caressed his dock and kissed him, taking his breath away.
Maybe they would change position. Maybe Soundwave would want to go on top. Or maybe they would do it in a position in one silly human book about interfacing.
Now, the charge in his frame was begging to be released.
When Onslaught was finally overloading, perhaps after Soundwave himself overloaded a few times, he would go so deep in that valve and fill the other mech with his transfluid. The sheets would be a big mess of Soundwave’s own fluid, but he wouldn’t care. He would keep his spike within until he was finally spent and sated. Perhaps later they would be ready for a second round.
Oh yeah, the thoughts were not helping him at all. He chuckled deeply, his spike refused to depressurise now, and his valve was leaking a little behind his panel. He would deal with those later.
Some sounds caught him, or rather, lack of them, and Onslaught opened his optics and saw that Megatron finally ended his audible discussion with Starscream. He was a bit surprised, though, that Soundwave was looking at him with his visor unusually bright, but after the tapedeck realised that his stare was being replied, he looked away in… embarrassment? There was no mistaking the dimmed, pale gaze of the mech’s visor.
Was Soundwave embarrassed? Or was he just tired? It wouldn’t be the first, though; he had once seen the tapedeck so tired his visor was very dim and pale.
The first possibility seemed unlikely, if not impossible. No one knew what was exactly in the TIC’s mind.
The meeting continued, if not a bit weird because somehow Soundwave was trying to avoid his gaze, and like any usual meeting, it ended with Megatron beat Starscream to the table (done) or the wall (also done), and the seeker went out of the room, followed by their leader’s end of discussion, and apparently the meeting was postponed until the next two months.
When it finally ended, Megatron was the first to get out. Onslaught sat up and straightened himself. Hook was talking to Motormaster about something; judging by the Stunticon leader’s amused faceplate, it would likely involve some upgrades or stories about the Stunticons in the medbay. Skywarp was talking to Thundercracker. Vortex looked at him once and nodded, then went out of the room. Onslaught looked around for a bit; he didn’t saw any cassettes. Maybe they had another thing to do?
Speaking of cassettes…
He caught sight of Soundwave looked at him with a bright visor like before. But when Onslaught turned to face Scrapper, who happened to be right in front of Soundwave from his vision, the tapedeck looked away and went out of the room.
Interesting, Onslaught thought.