Set after "This is Why I Hate Machines" (season III) Not a totally logical pairing, since Shockwave is supposed to be all "emotionless," but I do like it.
Megatron, Shockwave, TFA © Hasbro
It must have felt strange, living on something that could make a nuclear bomb feel like a small pinprick, Shockwave mused as he studied the readouts … Well the Autobots had never been the brightest diodes of them all.
The room Shockwave had claimed for himself on Omega Supreme had, apparently, been the medic's at one time—attached directly to the medibay for convenient access, with several computer terminals. Overriding the security codes to these terminals took all of a few clicks and the spy was in, not that there was much to be gleaned. A few more megacycles of tinkering and he had the medical computers linked to the rest of the terminals on the warhead, which allowed him to work in a little peace and privacy.
Like now, bathed in a pale blue green light from the consoles in the wee small hours of the morning, if he had properly recalibrated his internal chronometers. He shifted his attention back to the analysis of the former Intel bot's mental capacities compared to the standard curve, due for Lord Megatron's consideration at precisely 0700.
Door chimes penetrated his train of thought. "It's open," he called without glancing away from the screen.
The doors hissed open and shut, and heavy but purposeful, dignified footsteps filled the room. Shockwave didn't need to turn his head to see who had dropped in at the early hour; he merely stood and offered a simple, "My liege."
Megatron stood slightly in the door frame, easily taking up the space, his faceplates taking on a ghostly glow from the light of the monitors in Shockwave's otherwise dark "home office," especially when combined to the glare of his crimson optics. His arms hung almost casually at his sides, though his fusion cannon certainly belayed the illusion of indifference. Lord Megatron was, before all else, a warrior of the highest sort, the leader of his army, and eventually, of Cybertron.
"Shockwave," he rumbled.
The double agent bowed slightly at the waist. "Was there something you needed, my liege?" he asked respectfully.
Megatron didn't answer initially, but stepped more into the room. "Is the report nearly completed, Shockwave?" he asked his double agent.
"Nearly, my liege," Shockwave replied dutifully. "I should have it finished for your review within the megacycle."
The fearsome Decepticon leader nodded once, plucking a datapad from Shockwave's small personal library and perusing it. Shockwave nodded as well and sat back down, turning to his report once more. He was a very private mech, by nature both personal and occupational, but he wasn't about to ask his commander to not touch his things. Not unless he wanted his head to part ways with the rest of him.
His talons continued to clack over the keyboard, the faint glow of the computer readouts giving them a sort of deadly glint. He looked up to scan the last portion of glyphs he'd typed, glancing at a second computer screen to verify that his words and claims matched the readouts. Satisfied that they did match up, he continued to type, slightly tuning his audio sensors to what his superior officer was doing now.
The Decepticon leader's energy signature was behind him, some meters away. Contented with that knowledge, Shockwave returned to the report. He could hear Megatron walking the perimeter of the room, then come up behind him.
The double agent stiffened internally as he felt Megatron's optics scanning his words over his shoulder. He squared his shoulder struts and continued to type, but a sort of awkwardness gnawed at the pit of his intakes. Any other mech would have been snapped at to go the frag away, but more restraint was required when dealing with Lord Megatron. More restraint meaning, of course, total restraint. He "swallowed" awkwardly, and continued to type.
For all the awkwardness of his work being read over his shoulder, and being what he knew was intensely watched, Shockwave was able to delve deeply into his work once more. So deeply, the hissing of hydraulics as Megatron removed his fusion cannon from his person didn't penetrate his thoughts.
What did penetrate his thoughts, however, was feeling a light-handed touch running up one of his antennae. His talons jerked to a halt and his spark started to pound as a finger started at the base of the antenna and brushed along the full length of it, disappearing as swiftly as it had appeared. The double agent forced himself to cycle even breaths, to behave as thought nothing had happened. It's a dream, a dream…
The same thing happened again, to the opposite antenna, and he was certain it wasn't a dream or a recharge-deprived delusion. His servos shuddered to a halt and rested, a little twitchily, on the desktop, and his single optic dimmed slightly. As unexpected and surprising as the touches were, he wasn't about to deny the way they set sensor relays tingling and aching, nor how slagging good they felt. Cycling another (slightly shaky) breath, he continued to type again.
Another light touch on his antenna forced him to stop again, a few threads of his self control beginning to fray. When he spoke to the only other mech in the room, his words quavered slightly: "M… My liege…"
Megatron hummed an almost curious tone as he stroked the antenna again, making Shockwave stiffen and lightly grip the edge of the desk as he fought to remain in control of… Of what? A spasm of some kind? A low moan of pleasure? Shockwave didn't bother to finish the rest of his sentence; rather, he gripped the edge of the desk and focused on stilling his vocalizer.
"Why, what's the matter, Shockwave?" Megatron asked in a parody of maternal concern, running a finger up Shockwave's antenna.
The spy was proud that he suppressed the shudder that accompanied the touch. "N-nothing's the matter, my liege," Shockwave managed to get out. He started to let go of the desk, but found his servos shaking too much to be of use; they went back to gripping the edge of the desk as he tried to quell his spiking arousal. "I-I'll be finished with the report momentarily, I assure you…"
Megatron shifted back into his stance of mild curiosity mixed with slight disinterest, still stroking and touching the antennae. Cycling a shaky breath, Shockwave let go of the desk; he could see dents in the desktop as he continued to type. His speed was being hindered by the shaking of his servos, which added a flush of embarrassment to his mannerisms. For a warrior, a general of Autobot destruction, Megatron had the skilled servos of a medic, evident in the way he was able to barely touch the double agent's highly sensitive antennae and send rapid fire impulses of arousal down his neural pathways.
The Decepticon leader lightly, unexpectedly, pinched the tip of the right antenna; Shockwave's servos seized up, coming down swiftly on the keys and adding a string of gibberish glyphs to his report. His mind took leave of his self control, making him lurch forward, away from the pleasing touches, and groaned, a low, throaty sound to his own audios. Megatron lowered his hands, and Shockwave struggled to regain his self control. "Ahh… M-my apologies, my liege," he said, struggling to cycle oxygen to cool his systems before his fans kicked in. "The… that… I was n-not expecting anything, and there was a sort of… a sl-slight s-sensation of pa—"
"No need to lie to me, my most loyal servant," Megatron chuckled, leaning in closer and purring—slagging purring—in Shockwave's audio. "That was the groan of a very… pleasured… mech…" As he spoke, he punctuated each word with a light, almost playful pinch on the tip of the antennae.
Shockwave gripped the arms of his chair, trying to quell a second, pleasured groan. He half succeeded—it came out as a static-laced mewl. "It—it was, my liege," he admitted, cycling more and more oxygen. No point in lying. Lord Megatron always got the info he wanted.
"And this?" Megatron queried, running a finger up the length of the antenna.
Shockwave arched, talons digging into the arm of the chair. "Th-that's pleasurable as well, my liege," he gasped.
"How pleasurable?" Megatron pressed, giving the same attentions to the other antenna.
"Extremely, my liege," the spy bit out.
"Describe it," Megatron commanded. This command, unlike any he'd give to Lugnut or Starscream or any other less worthy soldier, was very gentle.
"It… A-amazing, my liege," Shockwave managed.
"Go on…" Megatron prompted, fingering the antennae's tips.
Shockwave's fans finally kicked in, thunderously loud in the quiet office. "That touch… the one you're using now… it feels like fire…" he gasped. "M-my circuits—"
"Do they ache, my most faithful servant?" Megatron purred into his audio. Shockwave nodded. The Decepticon leader continued to tease his antennae with one hand while the other began to roam, roving over Shockwave's svelte black and amethyst frame until he reached the spy's hip, which he lightly probed and stroked.
Shockwave arched his spinal column once more. "Y-yes, my liege…!" he gasped.
Encouraged by the words, Megatron shifted the position of his servos—the hand that had pleasured Shockwave's antenna now stroked and fondled his hip and vice versa. As he worked, Megatron maintained a mildly fascinated expression on his faceplates. "I never realized you were so sensitive to touch, my loyal servant," he intoned into the purple mech's audio.
Shockwave turned slightly and, rather boldly given his partner, nuzzled side of Megatron's helm with his non-faceplates. "Only to your to—ohhh…Onlyto your touches, my liege," he breathed.
"Only to mine?" Megatron repeated. A question within a question.
"No one else, Autobo—ohh! A-Autobot or Decepticon, can please me as you d — ooooh…" Shockwave was quivering now.
"Exactly what I wanted to hear, my loyal servant," Megatron growled into the double agent's audio, pulling him to his feet. Despite the heady weakness in his knees joints from the arousal, Shockwave followed the pull without question. Megatron titled the angle of chassis so, so that their chestplates brushed together in a painfully pleasant way; with a surprising amount of tenderness, he nuzzled Shockwave's neck, his servos roving over the double agent's chestplating.
Shockwave arched slightly, his helm tipping back a few degrees. Circuit relays were being wakened that he didn't even know he had, making him grip the desk a little harder. The spy cycled a few shaky breaths and let out a soft whine of pleasured approval.
Megatron's hand snaked down to his side and waist, and his whines became a little louder, a little more insistent. The Decepticon leader's fingers probed a seam at the junction of his hips and thigh and dipped in slightly to tweak a wire. Shockwave cried out, his legs weakening and his whole body leaning slightly into Megatron's chest hull. Through a deeply pleasured haze, he laid his head on one of his chest panels and reached up to tenderly stroke the purple insignia.
Shockwave's touch was rewarded with a low, husky groan. The spy lifted his single optic to look at his leader. Megatron's head was tilted back slightly, his optics powered down. Shockwave lightly trailed the tip of his talon over the outline of the Decepticon crest, watching his leader groan in a not-displeased manner. The sound rumbled slightly in Megatron's throat, and Shockwave could feel it in his chestpanels.
Megatron's fingers skimmed over his waist, hip and leg, making Shockwave arch and, very softly, moan. His grip on the edge of the desk tightened once again under the touch. Again, Megatron's hand probed and wandered, brushing lightly over his back; again, Shockwave softly mewed his approval. The Decepticon leader's hand came down to, surprisingly gently, rest on his aft, making him arch and moan into his leader's neck.
Megatron nuzzled at his subordinate's neck, running his fingers along Shockwave's leg, which had hooked itself around his waist. The touch stopped in the teasing area between thigh and aft as he lightly ran the tip of his glossa along a wire in the double agent's neck. His lips brushed against Shockwave's audio as he whispered, "You'll have the report finished, my ever loyal Shockwave?"
Shockwave managed a nod. "Within the megacycle, my liege," he softly answered, voice quavering.
With detachment that rivaled that of a medic, Megatron disentangled himself from Shockwave and casually restored his fusion cannon to its setting on his arm; Shockwave rolled his shoulders in an almost human gesture and stood in front of his desk, which still bore slight dents and scratches from his talons under Megatron's touches. With a reserved nod to his double agent, Megatron left the room as easily as he entered it; Shockwave bowed slightly to the Decepticon leader's retreating form.
All of this was done wordlessly.
The drone of his cooling fans humming slightly in his audios, Shockwave cycled a few shaky breaths and sat back down at his desk, flexing his talons slightly before continuing to finish the report, per Lord Megatron's orders.
All of it was just business as usual.