Title: Backstage: Sound Crew
Warnings: Silliness, and sensuality. A fetish, and reaction to it. Foul language.
Rating: PG-13
Continuity: G1
Characters: Soundwave, Ratbat, Frenzy, Thundercracker, Skywarp
Disclaimer: The theatre doesn't own the script or actors, nor does it make a profit from the play.
Motivation (Prompt): "Milow Ayo – Technology"
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The "Welcome to Pentayear, Slaggers!" party the civilians threw had been an open-armed welcome to Megatron's forces, starting the political machinations with good-natured intentions of power-grabbing. These were, as no one ever forgot, Decepticon civilians.
Starscream's troops had gone into it with open optics, knowing exactly what they were getting into even as they got overcharged and found themselves being talked to by persuasively manipulative civilians. Officers and soldiers alike were pounced. The party had never really ended. It extended through the long planetary days as the refugee conquerors came from all corners of the world to celebrate and get their hands back into Cybertron by putting them all over the troops. Amused and disposed to be generous with attention and information, the guests of honor hadn't needed Starscream's orders to mingle peacefully with the civvies.
The arrival of the annexation mission group from Cybertron had been greeted by raised hands and shouted invitations to join the party.
Ratbat had come along to begin integration of the planet's resources into the war effort. Frenzy had come to deliver orders from Megatron and receive orders from Starscream for delivery to Thrust. Ravage disappeared from the mission the moment the spacebridge opened, vanishing like the spy he was to gather information behind the scenes. The other Decepticons were all from Shockwave's control team, all sent with specific purposes and agenda.
That was temporarily derailed in the name of 'cooperation with local authorities.' That it just so happened that those authorities insisted on partying before business was just an odd coincidence.
So the locals and the soldiers milled about the city, catching up on Cybertron, the war, and the universe in general. They benevolently ignored the natives, who flocked to serve the newly-arrived rulers. More Decepticons to serve! New and rewarding duties to be assigned! What joy!
Frenzy acquired a covey of adoring natives just by existing; they'd never such a short master, and finding ways to adapt their world to his needs was the most exciting thing they could imagine. He'd had to adjust to not having to fetch more energon - or a chair, or an armrest, or ask for directions, or look for a person - on his own. It was the kind of adjustment he could get used to making. It was a little unnerving at first, after so long on Earth, but hey, Frenzy was a tough mech. He'd adapt to being waited on hand and foot.
It did leave him with too much time to ogle, however. Frenzy had always…admired…a well-turned foot. Rumble tended to like the back of the knee where the thigh tapered to the joint, and frag yes, the temptation to grope that area was always present, but Frenzy had a thing for feet. A grounder's wheels could rouse his interest if they were positioned right, and the frictionless gliders hovercraft altmodes favored tricked his systems out. Ages of standing at Soundwave's side had spread an endless vista of feet passing before him, and for preference, Frenzy definitely liked the flyers best.
The rare times Soundwave accompanied Starscream on an inspection of the rank and file sent Frenzy into a tizzy. All those thrusters lined up in perfect lines, and everyone else's attention was up on wings and faces while Frenzy browsed like a gourmet sitting down to a chef's best fare. The variety of propulsion methods clapped onto feet fascinated him, but he drooled the most over the high-heeled style. Rumble agreed, head bent toward him as they dissected a tasty Seeker from the waist down with their optics. They'd decided that putting the weight forward on the front of the foot changed the angle of the knees and thighs.
Personally, Frenzy liked the view from below more. He enjoyed looking up at the empty black circles like a cannon barrels as the flyers cut their engines to land on feet that smoked with burnt fuel and potential. He'd spent so long fantasizing over those feet that he'd worn the purring lust off his dreams.
Or so he'd thought.
Now he was on a planet with new varieties on old themes, and the glutted gourmand faced a dessert of exquisite proportions. Not so jaded now, Frenzy lurched through the party. He ached from the sheer, close, almost-able-to-touch presence of so many pretty, pretty feet. It was almost funny, trying so hard his internal tape crackled alarmingly to not outright stare at all the beautiful feet. They were right on eye level with him. He wanted to reach out and grab hold, but no. No, no, and no. He had a mission. He had dignity.
He found Starscream and delivered both orders and requests. He reeled away from that encounter feeling punch-drunk and trying desperately not to show it. Starscream presided over a minor cult to his handsomeness already, and Frenzy and Rumble had been clandestine members of that Cybertronian sect already. With the new alternate mode, Frenzy had to fight off the urge to build a devotee shrine at the Air Commander's feet. There was handsome, there was lovely, and then there was just yum. Starscream? Rowr.
Mission completed, Frenzy went in search of dignity. He needed either Ravage or Ratbat, because quite obviously he needed adult supervision.
The fact that Ratbat had perched on Thundercracker's arm nearly undid Frenzy completely. The blue Seeker sat relaxed in a chair discussing some finer point of supplies with the technimal Cassetticon. The party whirled on around them, and beside them, Skywarp sprawled with both feet up on a third chair.
Guh.
The universe had it out for Frenzy. That was only explanation for this torture.
Things only got more ludicrous from that point, as Skywarp apparently had his feet up because he'd suffered a minor thruster malfunction. He kept cycling the vents open and closed, and Frenzy couldn't even pretend he wasn't watching. That was just…oh, c'mon. Somewhere out there, Primus was laughing at him.
"What?" the purple-and-black Seeker demanded lazily. The party was too nice to get worked up over anything, even a Cassetticon staring at his feet as if he'd seen a miracle.
Frenzy tore his optics upward, but they immediately slipped down again with an almost audible click. "Just…never seen the design before. What do the, um, fiddly bits do?" One hand extended dangerously close to the moving parts fanning gently apart as the thrusters spiraled in and out. Skywarp snapped everything in tight and close just to see him jump and grab that venturing hand in again. "Looks fragile," Frenzy got out, optics still locked.
Skywarp looked at his own feet, considering them. "Yeah, I guess." They were very shiny, that was for sure, and lots of working parts whirring every which way. He could see why the Cassetticon was staring at them. The little sneak was probably thinking about what kind of damage he could do to all the entwined parts. "I dunno what those part do," the jet confessed easily. "I'm no repair mech. All I know is that," he stabbed a finger at his feet accusingly, feeling betrayed by his lack of flight capability, "don't work." Thundercracker snorted, and Skywarp turned pathetic optics on him. "I'm on the wounded list," he wailed, intentionally playing it up. "The civvies hurt me!"
"Starscream's an evil glitch," Thundercracker explained when both Cassetticons looked to him incredulously. "Skywarp's going down as the only Decepticon casualty for the whole mission. Non-fatal, clearly."
"So not fair," Skywarp muttered. Frenzy's optics had drifted back to his feet, and the hand ventured out again. Skywarp kept half an optic on it, wondering if the Cassetticon would really sabotage him right here, right now.
"Excuse me," a pleasantly light voice interrupted the miniature drama. "I believe you've been waiting for me?"
Skywarp looked up at the civilian and scowled. "Finally. Fix me!" Thundercracker's unoccupied arm clunked him upside the helm, and Skywarp sat up in a hurry. "Hey!"
"Behave," the blue Seeker said sternly, and Skywarp opened his mouth to retort - and shut it again. The really annoying thing about civilians was that the command structure got all kinds of screwed up around them. Technically, in a military society like the Decepticons, an Elite officer outranked most civilians. But, again technically, Pentayear was not yet officially absorbed into the Decepticon Empire. That meant that Skywarp was a guest. He might not be the greatest mind in the Decepticons, but even Skywarp knew that guests behaved and didn't threaten their hosts. It was rude.
Even if he wasn't a guest, Decepticon soldiers didn't threaten Decepticon civilians. That was just asking for trouble. Might didn't make right against unarmed civvies.
Er…especially not unarmed civvies who were intelligent enough to design the very nice, if currently malfunctioning, altmode that he, Skywarp, currently sported.
The civilian - Head Engineer McI'mWaySmarterThanYou or something along that line - grinned as Skywarp suddenly sat up straighter. "I take it you recognize me now." Something deeply menacing shone briefly in his mild red optics, and they were all abruptly reminded that the civilians on this world were Decepticons. Thundercracker stiffened in his seat, and Ratbat regarded the civilian with interest. "Now, behave or I won't fix you," Head Engineer GrrScaryAsFreakin'Megatron requested quite politely, and Skywarp hoped he didn't hold grudges.
"Excuse me," the civvie said to Frenzy, stepping in front of the Cassetticon. He lifted the Skywarp's feet and settled into the chair, letting the thrusters sit in his lap as he pulled out an array of delicate tools and started in immediately.
Frenzy took one step back out of the way, then three forward. His optics were glued to the fantastically tantalizing sight spread in front of him as the jet's lower legs butterflied open under the civilian's sure touch. Outrageously complex systems loosened, gears untwisting until everything was visible: joints and ignition switches and cabling exposed to the whole wide world. The Cassetticon thought he'd been aroused before, but lust dragged fingers of heat down his internals until his systems fired false error messages. He trembled finely, holding onto the appearance of merely normal interest with joint-popping effort.
Skywarp sat there, stripped naked to the room at large, and didn't dare to move. The rest of the party didn't pause or care, and even Thundercracker had turned back to his discussion, but that didn't change the fact that this mech had his armor wide open in public. The knowledge that this wasn't a repair bay, this was out in public where anyone could see, pulsed in Skywarp's chest like a living thing kneading claws of sickly pleasure in and out of his spark. The disturbing sensation of his thrusters responding to someone else's control crept up his legs, sensitizing every movement into a ricochet of sensation fluttering from foot to midsection. It coiled around his already excited spark and skipped through his fuel pump, and his air intakes hitched audibly.
The civvie - Head Engineer DearPrimusDon'tStop - tilted a knowing smile at him. The smile slid back behind a professional mask, and the mech turned to ever-so-politely engage Frenzy in conversation. The Cassetticon was observing the repair job, and Skywarp thanked his lucky stars that it was boredom, not interest, on Frenzy's face. The dull look deepened into glazed optics when the civvie launched into a detailed explanation of how the thruster design worked. Skywarp didn't know what he'd have done if Frenzy was enjoying this.
Frenzy could see it all: the strain crossing the Seeker's face, and the entertained expression behind the civilian's calm mask as gentle fingers caressed wires with professional care. The situation was so stupid that it wasn't funny at all, and Frenzy had to get away. He had to, because he wanted inside Skywarp's jigsaw-puzzle legs like nothing else. His fingers twitched to grip the thrusters, scrape down the spiraling grooves to the bottom until he could breathe first-hand that smokeless cordite smell of burnt fuel and hold spent fire in his hands.
The problem being that he couldn't step back without his legs giving out.
Into that hysterically funny realization dropped a received message notice, blipping on in the corner of his vision, and nothing could make Frenzy feel any stupider than that kind of normal in his bizarre life right now.
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