After several orns of watching the mech, he could honestly say he was no closer to resolving the issue that had begun when he had moved the carrier-host from his lab than he had been when the problem had begun. Ever since, he had begun to notice more things about the mech that were intriguing – and not all of them were connected to his status as a carrier-host and could be explained away by coding demands. Even worse than finding himself noticing things about Soundwave was that doing so was distracting him from his work on the project he had promised Lord Megatron and was causing a delay in construction. That would not please Lord Megatron when he commed to check in on the progress that was being made.
Most annoying, though, was that Soundwave had yet to say anything to him about having found himself in his room when he had cycled up from recharge. The worst part of that was that he was annoyed that he felt annoyed about that. It was just something that should not happen. Plus, the mech seemed to be purposely teasing him with glimpses of his aft or the edge of his panels along with almost always seeing him some other provocative pose. He seemed to be continuously stretching to reach something or bending in what looked like impossible angles and positions. The mech kept teasing him with that flexibility coupled with such a delicate frame in comparison to his own as they worked on the requested weapon. It was driving him mad.
A navy aft swayed, catching his attention quickly and leaving him to watch in helpless fascination as the communications officer tested how the weapon's frame moved to make sure it did so smoothly. The repetitive motion was rather hypnotic, causing him to force himself to look away from the tantalizing view. The wiring for the controls needed to be finished before the Decepticon leader contacted them, meaning that there was little time to dedicate to unnecessary pursuits.
He focused back on the interior wiring of the control panel and accomplished the soldering of several connections before finding himself again distracted. The scientist gazed at the white thighs and well-formed legs that were stretched to put the carrier-host on the last joint in his feet as he reached into a large bin on the side of the room, displaying the panel that covered his valve. That sight tempted him into thinking about how it would feel to bend the relatively delicate mech over one of his lab tables, snapping open that cover, and slamming his spike into what he knew would be a tight heat. That thought almost brought a groan from his vocalizer, which he barely caught. Soundwave was going to deactivate him with all the teasing he was unconsciously doing.
The bright light of his visor signaled his triumph as he came back into full view. That was just as attractive as those swaying hips that Soundwave insisted on teasing him with. He would swear he was being smiled at under the other's mask in triumph as the carrier-host held up the small part he had been searching for.
There was far too much that he found appealing on that frame, in his opinion, and far too much that was distracting. The paintjob he sported only enhanced those features he found himself staring at so often. How was he to accomplish anything with this particular mech as his assistant?
