AN: My goodness, a chapter already! Why yes, yes it is! I hope everyone is thrilled with this chapter...and don't forget to toss us a review! We always enjoy engaging questions, and we try to explain our methodology to our readers when they don't quite understand something. A PM would also be a perfect way to ask a question. On this chapter, we have a lighter note. Enjoy!
Chapter thirteen
"This way please," the aide said.
Soundwave barely heard the other mech, his visor dim as they passed corridors upon corridors. His legs moved on their own, automatically following the aide while the sharp scent of new, high-quality paint assaulted his olfactory sensors, freshly applied and cured on his chassis. They passed another polished wall and Soundwave turned his helm, catching a momentary glimpse of his changed body.
As ordered by the Council, he had scanned the satellite alt-mode they had so…graciously provided. It was of the latest design, streamlined and it showed on his body. Most of the bulk was gone from his upper torso and below his knees. His chest was still broad, but smoother and much curvier in comparison to the boxy shape of his previous tapedeck form. The satellite design still catered to his Cassettes of course, though the glass-like plates of his chest were thicker and darker in colour, obscuring the empty space where he would store his symbiotes.
On his chest, there was still no depiction of the frowning Autobot face; he had flat-out refused to bear the enemy's insignia. Instead, he wore the simple lines depicting the Matrix of Leadership itself. Many of the Autobots wrongly believed that the Matrix's symbol was synonymous to their faction. In reality, it marked Soundwave as exclusively loyal to the Prime alone.
Nonetheless, his new form was not the easiest mode to get used to.
Soundwave was still adjusting to it, barely given any time before he had been ushered straight into the paintworks facility. Lines of code continued to stream down in front of his optics, his systems calibrating and recalibrating to upgraded monitoring and scanning equipment, new boosters and Primus… wings. His new alt-mode came with ridiculously long, articulated solar wings that already acted as if they had a mind of their own. He had a Pit of a time grasping the command from within the maelstrom of altered directories, barely managing to fold the bothersome appendages into the plating of his back after he had nearly smacked one of the idiot Autobots in the face.
Soundwave abruptly stopped when the aide did. Big, heavy double doors slid open upon their arrival.
"You are to be washed, polished and accessorised," the shorter aide said, as he gestured him inside.
The telepath barely spared him a look and walked stiffly by and straight into an antechamber. The doors slid shut behind him and Soundwave noted that the aide had not followed him inside. Just as well; Soundwave's nerves were so frazzled and his body so tense that he was close to committing murder. If Soundwave had been any other Decepticon, he would have most likely broken down by now, collapsing in a pile of panicked, hysterical laughter at the sheer irony of it all.
He, the Royal Consort.
It seemed like a position that was better suited for Starscream, whose sole purpose of existence seemed to be posing underneath the limelight. But no, this farce of a situation had undoubtedly gone too far; if Optimus merely tolerated him before then Soundwave was certain that the Autobot leader must absolutely hate him now for being shoved into such an unenviable situation.
No matter. Soundwave steeled himself, locked the struts in his arms in a gesture of utmost determination and proceeded onwards.
Soft light and running water greeted him.
The antechamber had been relatively small and plain, but the main chamber itself was exactly the opposite. It was a massive bathing area, the atmosphere within hot and humid with cleansing chemicals. Soundwave took a moment to take in the glittering murals that ran on every wall, decorating the metal with images of strange, alien wildlife and the high, vaulted ceiling that loomed above him. The room also boasted a sunken pool that could easily accommodate at least ten triple-changer class mechs. A long, gilded stem rose up from the middle of the pool and fanned out into the air like an organic tree with showerheads for those wishing to bathe. Several channels ran along the side of the pool, pouring in liquid, though those were more for aesthetic purposes than anything else. The magnificence of it all sickened him.
Another Autobot, this time a green and white femme, entered the bathing area through a side entrance. She walked with submissive grace, her slender pedes taking measured steps on the floor and in her hands, she held a container filled with various cleaning equipment.
"Welcome, my lord," she said as she neared him, her optics professionally downcast. "I am to oversee your preparation for the ceremony."
Soundwave inwardly sneered at the title and he stared at her, his gaze raking over every feature that her small chassis had to offer. He made no effort to disguise his telepathy and he easily entered her mind, skimming over her memory cores and personality chips so he could assess her intentions. The femme gasped at the intrusion, her optics flaring just a little. To her credit, she did nothing but stand there and waited for his answer. Disappointed at her complete subservience, Soundwave withdrew.
"Proceed," he stated.
"Of course, my lord," the femme said with a nod and gestured towards a long counter bolted on the wall at the corner of the room. "Please deposit all weapons, including any subspaced items. Then, please proceed to the centre of the pool."
She flicked a hand at the pool itself and a muted, mechanical whine was heard somewhere beneath them. Soundwave could see the column in the middle of the pool rise up even further, connected to a round dais that had been submerged into the water. A suitable standing area that was perfect for one who wished for a quick rinse before slipping back into the pool for a relaxing soak. The femme began to make her way into the pool and he watched absently as her plating shone with wetness each time the water lapped at her, darkening the thin armour around her waist.
He had no weapons – the Autobots had temporarily confiscated them under the pretext that he didn't need them now. Stifling a weary sigh of his vents, Soundwave stepped off the edge and down the wide, finely crafted steps. The water was shallow, barely reaching up to his knee joints, deepening only slightly to his waist as he waded towards the raised dais.
One of the showerheads was already on by the time he reached it and he stepped up onto the platform to stand underneath the gentle spray. The femme immediately kneeled by his legs, helm bowed and armed with a brush.
"Please raise your leg, my lord," she instructed.
Soundwave locked the gears in one leg to keep his balance so he could raise the other. She pressed the palm of one hand against the flat of his pede and craned her neck backwards so she could clean at the intricate plating and Soundwave twitched as the brush's long bristles ran gently against the small thrusters fitted underneath. Her strokes were careful, not wishing to agitate any sensors or ruin the dark paint.
Soundwave's lips tightened and he stretched an arm out to brace himself against the column next to him. "How am I going to be presented?"
The femme made a soft, humming noise in her vocaliser. "My lord?"
Even his monotone managed to sound impatient. "What are you going to do to me?"
She paused for a moment before motioning him to lower his leg, already finished with it. "Your frame needs to be cleansed thoroughly; waxed, polished and painted upon before any other preparations are to be made."
"Elaborate. Specifically: thoroughly and other preparations."
"Tradition states," she began, "that all areas are to be cleansed thoroughly. You must not wear any mouth coverings. Also—" Here her optics dimmed and dulled, indicating that she was accessing data from within her cortex, "—your alternate mode has wings. I strongly suggest you unfold them for the ceremony if you are to display your best features."
The blue optics returned to their usual brightness and the femme inclined her head, hummed once and replaced the brush she had been using for a thinner one, specially formulated for those tricky plating gaps. She continued to speak.
"Please my lord; there is no reason to be tense. There are several guards outside this room to protect you. One of the attendants will help you with whatever you'd like. I know this place is very foreboding. I realise this because I come from Kaon's southern sectors—"
Soundwave's visor brightened at the femme's words as he listened. All he wanted to do was grab her by the neck, squeeze until the energon cords burst from the pressure and watched the fluids drip down her shapely, fragile torso as he violated her processors. But really, he was not that far gone to resort to such measures.
"—But once you are with Prime again, you will be relieved, and share in a passionate night of interfacing with our great leader!" she softly exclaimed while she worked at Soundwave's leg.
Soundwave barely stifled a snort, disguising the sound as a puff of air from his vents. "Consideration: appreciated."
So he sent in the command to flick his solar wings out, unfolding the long, angular panels. They were so long that the sharp tips draped over the dais and dipped into the water. He could feel them twitching, eager to move and absorb energy but he firmly reigned the excited coding in, stilling them into place.
The femme stood after a moment and moved over so she could settle herself down by Soundwave's other leg. She gently guided Soundwave's pede up, resting it on her thigh armour and began to wash that as well, the soapy solvent covering both of them. Every now and then, she would draw a small cup into the water and rinse off the soap so it didn't leave stains or imperfections on the paint.
A moment later the small femme turned, hearing a pair of foreign pede steps. "Excuse me my lord, but no one was supposed to be allowed in here. I will find out who it is."
Soundwave who had already heard voices long before she had, just nodded and turned into the spray. "Affirmative," he said.
She stood after carefully putting the supplies into the bucket, and walked across the dais so she could get to the edge of the pool and the flooring. She disappeared into the darkness, white painted columns obscuring her image until she was out of sight. When she saw who had entered the bathing chambers, she stopped.
"Executive Officer Ironhide and First Lieutenant Chromia, you do not have permission to be in here! Please leave or state your purpose!" the femme demanded, her squeaky voice rising in pitch.
Ironhide didn't listen to her at all and just kept walking forward into the room. Chromia did stop, flashing a holochip in front of her that displayed access permission to the room. A small Matrix symbol was off to the bottom left, rotating slowly.
"Optimus felt that it would be best if I care for his mate," Chromia said, a bit irritated.
"B-But—"
Chromia shifted her weight, glaring down at the tiny femme. "I will take it from here," she said, nodding her helm towards the door. "No need to worry, your work will still be counted towards your pay. All of it."
Unable to argue, the femme nodded. She then briskly walked out, sparing one last, disappointed look in the chambers before the door slid shut behind her. Chromia scoffed and then stepped forward, following the trail of Ironhide. Ironhide was standing next to the pool, his arms crossed over his thick chassis. Chromia came up behind him, her hands on his hips while she rested her helm on his arm.
"You should take a bath too," Chromia admonished. "You're utterly filthy."
Ironhide turned his helm back, a smirk on his face. "Mech's a mech. Can't help it."
Chromia pinched at a wire in his arm, making him flinch. "Wash. You have to look nice too."
The blue femme prodded his backstrut with a sharp finger, and he grudgingly made a noise of assent. She left him then and stepped up onto the platform so she could walk closer to Soundwave.
"I'm sure you know what's going on," she said simply. "So I see no reason for us not to just get down to business."
This time, Soundwave didacknowledge her. He raised a hand to rub at his helm crest, smoothing the mixture of water and solvent across the blue finials and his telepathy spread out across both newcomers. He did not attempt to penetrate any processors however, knowing full well who they were and what they represented. Especially Ironhide, having shot at him at the battlefield too many times to count. Instead he just read their energy fields before retreating.
"I'm Chromia," she said to Soundwave, looking him up and down.
"Chromia. First lieutenant to Elita-1's femme squadron. I know who you are," Soundwave snapped.
"Alright then," Chromia easily agreed, air puffing out of her vents before gesturing towards the doorway. "I won't follow the torture session she was gonna put you through."
Soundwave jerked his helm away.
"We'll just get this over quick, yeah?" Chromia muttered, stooping to grab a brush and solvent, her frame completely wet from the gentle spray of the showerhead.
Chromia was forced to step beneath the showerhead's gentle spray and she stooped to grab a brush and solvent. As she straightened up, her blue optics met Ironhide's intense ones, his expression dark. She reassured him with a smile and then put some solvent on the brush so she could work it to a soapy mess with her fingers.
"Other femme: very relaxing. Her attentions: preferred," Soundwave complained as Chromia began to scrub Soundwave's back, his digital monotone low with discontent. He canted his helm to the side, eyeing her up from the corner of his visor. "The weapon specialist's presence: agitating me. Get him out."
Pleased that his presence was irritating the Decepticon, Ironhide's smile was wide as he relaxed against the edge of the pool, his arms cast back over the rim.
Chromia held out the holochip to Soundwave, activating the tiny screen. The purpose was handwritten with elaborate letters – obviously Optimus'. Both Ironhide and Chromia's designations had been written down, and the small Matrix spiralled in the corner. "I apologise. I would rather not be here, but Optimus Prime seemed to think it was prudent that you receive the best care possible."
Prime's personal style on those glyphs was recognizable and Soundwave frowned at them. Did Optimus think he was going to shirk his duties and escape? Or go on a murderous rampage of some sort? Or was it some misplaced sense of concern.
"Very well," the telepath acquiesced.
"I was trained in to do this for Elita a long time ago," Chromia added.
Soundwave didn't seem interested in that piece of information. He tipped his chinguard down, watching the shorter femme scrub meticulously at the front of his chassis. Now somewhat placated with her presence, he loosened his plating a little and allowed her better access between the seams. The water continued to sluice down his smooth plating, trickling and curving around the metal of his thighs. When he shifted his pedes further apart to widen, he heaved a powerful rush of air from his vents, shifting the water that had clogged up there out as a fine mist. Finally, he allowed his mask to split and slot into the sides of his helm, allowing her to see his profile, the straight nasal ridge and most importantly the scowl tugging at his lips.
Chromia gazed long at Soundwave's face, her optics lingering upon his full lips. In response, he tilted his helm to one side, gazing back.
"I bet Prime loves it when you suck his cock with those pretty lips," she complimented, using a thick, long brush to scrub over the exterior of his prominent chassis.
The forward remark had left him speechless. Then said full mouth twisted and Soundwave sneered, pulling his top lip component to expose a sharp, silvery fang. With a snort, he splashed water against his face, wetting his dermal plating. The solar wings shuddered against their moorings, the reflective surface shimmering with partial activation.
"Yes. I believe he does. It is something that he has me do nearly every session we perform together."
Chromia hummed. The entirety of his face was very broad and sharp, smoothing into nice curves that complimented him. Then she grinned suddenly.
"I bet he does...especially with this handsome face. Your optics..." she murmured, pressing close so she could see the flare of the colour through the visor. "Nice too. But how shapely are they?" she asked, a hand resting on his chassis, the brush nearly idle.
Soundwave was unused to compliments being directed towards his self. He pursed his lips slightly at her words, his solar wings jerked upwards, betraying his slight uneasiness. At such close proximity, her energy field was much more potent and he could feel the beginnings of sexual interest brimming underneath. The telepath reached up and manually pushed the visor from his face, letting her see his slanted optics with their mismatched orange colouring.
"My optics: to your liking?" he asked, staring intensely at her.
Chromia smiled, drawing away so she could finish scrubbing his chassis, moving on to an arm. "They suit you," she said simply.
Soundwave flinched. His optics dimmed as his telepathy passed over her, searching for any mockery. "Thank you," he managed, words somewhat stilted.
Chromia held Soundwave's forearm in her grasp, moving it up so she could clean at the joints and plating.
"Do you know how the procession will go, Soundwave?" she asked, shifting around to get the other side of his arm quickly before she moved on to the other.
Soundwave continued to obediently hold his arm up for her, allowing her to bend it as she pleased so she could clean it. "I have a...fair idea. I have not been given the details. Autobot trait: sheer vagueness. I understand that I am to be accessorised and painted upon."
"Yes. After I'm done scrubbing you clean I'll buff you dry to bring out the shine. Then after that I'm going to paint..." she looked at his colours, her optics flashing quickly up and down. "I'll paint you with silver details. Don't worry, they wash off with solvent. Optimus will be similarly detailed in gold. Then some scented oil and gloss for Optimus' enjoyment, don't you think?" she rattled off, hardly seeming to mind the extensive list. Soon she was finished, but scrubbed the tops of Soundwave's hands as a finishing touch.
The future Consort remained silent, listening to her intently. Then abruptly he laughed, though it was more of a loud amused gust of air from his chassis.
"I wonder if they will hold the sheets out the next morning," he murmured in English to himself, optics staring aimlessly at one of the murals. To Chromia he said, reverting to Cybertronian, "I see. However, I do not see how all that is necessary. Optimus and I have interfaced in worst conditions without the aid of scented oils."
"I know." With a glint in her blue optics, she looked towards him and dug quickly in a bag to find a cloth. "I'm sure Optimus will have a fun time making you messy. So look forward to that."
Despite the femme's positive manner, apprehension filled Soundwave's circuits. This was not a joyous ceremony, especially for Optimus. Particularly for Soundwave lost in a sea of Autobots.
Once she found the proper cloth, Chromia stood again, snapping her fingers a few times to turn the spray of water off. "Then you won't ever have to do another ceremony like this again. Except perhaps something similar but less...traditional if you have a sparkling."
"I see."
Yes...the eventual sparkling. Soundwave had not thought that far, could not even imagine himself carrying Optimus' progeny. He was very fertile, that much he knew. He'd felt the strength of Optimus' spark and the tainted power of the Matrix. He knew that a sparkling would not be difficult to conceive, particularly if a heat cycle occurred any time soon.
Soundwave passed his hands over his face and flapped his wings gently in the air, flicking off the excess water. He grappled with their software for a little bit before pulling them up to half-fold them, just so he could keep them out of the water.
Past the reclining, sour-faced form of Ironhide and towards the counter and benches, Soundwave spied a long line of blowers that curved out from the wall. Without a further word, Soundwave activated his anti-gravs; a piece of Decepticon technology that he refused to remove and began to steadily hover into the air. He easily carried himself over the water, bypassing the pool and the weapon specialist completely. When he landed, he turned away and sauntered up to the blowers. A quick hack into the system and Soundwave tilted his face up to welcome the hot gush of dry air that suddenly activated above him. It didn't take long for Chromia to reach him. She busied herself with opening one of the small cabinets that was lined along the wall. She searched for a few moments and pulled out more cleaning supplies, tossing her the wet rag carelessly in. She found a new one and walked back towards Soundwave, then stopped a few paces short of him, waiting for him to dry off.
She didn't have to wait long. The air dryer had chased away most of the water and the heat of his chassis had already evaporated the lingering wetness within his seams. Soundwave remotely switched the air off and turned his helm slightly to look at her. "Next procedure?"
She raised the cloth up and stepped close, her fingers sliding gently over his solar panel wings as she stepped behind him, starting to rub at his plating with quite a bit of force. The wax from the soap left a nice shine behind. "Do you know what's expected of you during the actual ceremony?" she asked.
"I have not been informed of any proceedings or of any specific protocols to follow," Soundwave replied, casting a sideways glance towards her direction.
He was aware that the Council were to watch him and Optimus merge. It was not something he was looking forward to.
"Well I'm sure Optimus will lead you with what to do. Your entrance with him is really the only dramatic part. You'll be close and he can just steer you around. And obviously, when the oaths are called you'll have to recite yours. But besides that, it's easy. Just a lot of optics on you. It will be broadcasted from here to all other Autobot-held planets," Chromia murmured, shifting so she could start polishing a different part of his back, almost finished.
Soundwave suddenly hissed softly and bared his sharp denta. He wrenched a wing away from Chromia, unused to the heightened sensitivity of the new appendages. They rattled, the solar panels shimmering with a few arcs of electricity crackling over the surface. It was a clear warning of don't touch.
"Careful," he warned, one amber optic brightening as he repressed a full-body shudder.
"My apologies, sir," Chromia said, shrugging one shoulder as she quickly polished Soundwave's plating to a high shine.
The femme was not shy and had no qualms touching every piece of surface plating that the telepath had to offer. She worked quickly, standing back every few moments to admire her handiwork.
"What is your favourite scent, sir?"
Soundwave raised his chin to give the femme a long and uncaring look. "Scent: no preference. Choose what my bondmate will find most pleasing."
Chromia took a step back and pressed a contemplative digit to her lips. "I suppose he would enjoy a rich oil scent that's a bit sweet," she said while she picked out several tiny bottles and started mixing them together in a larger one. The femme dipped her finger in and then tasted it, nodding again. "It'll do."
Then she took a different bottle and poured a clear substance in, mixing it with a slender silver rod.
"This will go over your polish as temporary paint. It'll come off with a good scrub in the shower racks, so you won't look ridiculous forever."
Chromia returned to Soundwave's side, and in the bottle was a silver paint.
"Please hold still… I can't stress that enough. I don't want to have to do this again."
The femme dipped her delicate fingers into the mixture until her digits were dripping. She brought them to Soundwave's shoulder and started writing glyphs in High Autobot, as well as several decorative designs.
"Optimus will be wearing gold. Most of it will get smeared during the spark bonding…but it doesn't really matter."
Soundwave didn't particularly care what colour his bondmate would be wearing at the ceremony. He merely stood there, his body held still and rigid as the Autobot femme continued to paint various glyphs down the lines of his body. Each sweep of the wet paint with her fingers made his sensornet bristle.
"Obedience, longevity, fertility, equality, symbiosis and compassion," Chromia clarified, pointing out each individual glyph with a wet finger.
Soundwave wanted to say that he didn't honestly give a slag about what the glyphs said.
"Are you nervous?" she then asked, raising her blue optics up to look at him.
"No," he lied.
Chromia smirked as she leaned close to start panting his helm. It was the last thing to be done before the ceremony. Tiny silver dots decorated his cheek guard, going all the way up to the angular tip before she drew several lines, then started on the other side.
"I understand…big tough Decepticon doesn't want to admit he's afraid. I'll be honest with you…I'd rather die than do it myself," Chromia said smoothly. "To me, sharing sparks is a very private ordeal…but tradition is tradition I suppose…just the thought of the entirety of Cybertron seeing me share with my bondmate…it's revolting—"
"I was told that only the Council would witness the act," Soundwave snapped as he grabbed the femme by the arm, forcing her to cease her painting. "Public airwaves during actual bonding: not part of the deal."
Soundwave could hear the sloshing of liquid as Ironhide spurned into action, as if ready to save Chromia from his clutches. Soundwave dropped Chromia's arm as if it was on fire.
"I just assumed you realised this or that Optimus had told you," Chromia said with a frown. "It will be broadcasted to all the troops in the universe, Autobot of course, but I wouldn't doubt that plenty of Decepticons will watch it as well. It's not supposed to be highly sexual or anything…it's more like symbolism. The joining of two halves to make the Autobots whole again. A lot consider it a highly spiritual event. If you're lucky, you might even have a privacy screen."
The Decepticon snarled and bared his denta, obviously disliking what he'd just been told. The wings attached to his back swivelled upwards and extended half-way, unable to sit still while he quietly raged. He made a disgruntled sound via his vents and turned to the side, resigned to allow Chromia to finish her job.
"I see," he bit out.
When Chromia was finished, she stepped back and wiped her fingers off, critically going over Soundwave's appearance. She circled around him a few times, taking special care to avoid his solar panelled wings. Once she was finished, she nodded.
"It is time. The ceremony will begin shortly."
Behind the pair, Ironhide trudged out of the pool and stood under the blowers. "I've gotta go find Optimus," he muttered
Ironhide gave Soundwave a hard glare as he finished drying off. His negative energy field made one thing clear; Soundwave was to not touch Chromia. The mech then ambled out of the room, disappearing out of a far door.
The telepath's wings flicked in the air for a second time, as if saying a giant 'fuck you too' at Ironhide's departing back.
Silence reigned, and with each passing moment, Optimus' spark curled up into a tighter ball of nerves.
He paced back and forth in the foyer, where in front of him two doors were opened, and beyond that was a blindingly bright light where Council members and a few invited senators chatted amongst each other up high on a balcony. On the floor level there were two chairs and a large berth situated right in the middle. Tiny camera drones buzzed around Optimus.
Suddenly a door to the right opened.
Optimus stopped. A strange expression passed his maskless face and he took half of a step forward in curiosity. Soundwave stood there, but it wasn't the Soundwave he knew. Once Soundwave had stepped out completely, Optimus scanned his optics over the mech again, finding the more streamline shape to be attractive. More lights flickered on, signalling that the ceremony would soon start. Optimus' pump hammered, and his fingers shook before he gripped them tightly in his palms.
Soundwave, in the light, was absolutely stunning.
"You look…beautiful," Optimus said gruffly.
The silver detailing accentuated the telepath's dark blue and white colouring perfectly. And his red visor only added to it. Tiny camera drones buzzed around Soundwave's form, darting around in between his wings and around his pedes, others hovering right next to his face.
The red visor brightened in acknowledgement to Optimus' words and Soundwave stopped when he neared him. It seemed as if Soundwave's mouth did not know on what expression to settle on – the full lips thinned, then relaxed and then smoothed into a neutral line but not before the corners lifted up into what could have passed as a ghost of a smile.
"Prime: equally as…regal," Soundwave replied with a suitable inclination of his helm.
Then Soundwave suddenly snarled with irritation when one of the hovering cameras flitted too close to his liking. The solar-panelled wings made a sharp movement and the camera…inexplicably stopped working and dropped to the floor by their pedes.
"My apologies," Soundwave said, not sounding at all sorry that he overloaded the device and caused it to malfunction. He glanced at tall doors and his mouth tightened. "You did not tell me that we would share in a truly public domain," he quietly accused.
Prime's pump started hammering hard again and he turned around to sit on a small bench. He leaned down, his shoulders slumping, and held his face in his hands.
"I honestly had no idea. It's been so long since a Prime had a bondmate, and I never really listened to those history lessons in the academy anyway. I was told that it would just be the Council," Prime said miserably.
He looked very young in that instance, akin to a youngling who had been caught doing something bad.
"I'm sorry," Optimus groaned. "This is so stupid. Fuck tradition, if it were up to me, none of this would be happening."
"No," Soundwave said. "We must adhere to tradition."
'To keep the Council happy,' he added via telepathy.
The doors parted then, wedged apart by giant mechanisms that rotated at the side like giant cogs. And what lay beyond, their new lives.
"Come," Soundwave commanded, though he betrayed the air of steadiness he gave by allowing his energy field to spike with uneasiness.
Prime was completely still, his face blank while his optics were bright – too bright. He clenched his digits against the seat below him, and an involuntary noise escaped from his vocaliser.
"I… I can't do this," he whispered.
"But you must!" Soundwave hissed as he turned to face the Prime fully. "Prime: strong, composed, steadfast. A true leader. This is the image you must give them or else they willtake advantage of your weakness." Then he lowered his helm and his tone dropped the harsh edge. "You will not face this alone. I, your servant, will share your humiliation," he added. "Debauchery: experienced by us both. Resulting circus: masses happy. Do you understand, Optimus Prime?"
Prime clenched his denta together hard and stared resolutely at the floor. "I understand but—"
He looked away and was silent for a few moments. Camera drones started to collect around him in increasing interest, and Optimus looked up before allowing a cold flow of air into his intakes.
"Do you love me?"
Soundwave was taken aback by the question. "I cannot answer that. Love: unfamiliar. Unknown protocol in my banks."
Optimus laughed. "Do you like me?"
The staid presence that Soundwave had fabricated around him just to get himself through his farce of a ceremony began to waver. His processor raced to find answers to questions he had never dealt with before. With no face mask to hide his expression, his mouth began to form various expressions of uncertainty.
"Like: to express a favourable opinion or emotion towards an object or person," Soundwave intoned finally. "What I feel for you, Optimus Prime, is far more complicated than 'like'."
Optimus' entire frame seemed to shake for a moment as he looked down at the floor, then stood up. He strode to Soundwave's side in measured, confident steps.
"We will go out into the middle of the oval and bow to the council. Then I will turn, and we will take our seats."
The telepath did not answer straight away. Instead, he stared down at their conjoined arms as the limbs didn't belong to either of them. The gesture suggested affection and it did not translate at all well to the current state of their relationship.
"I understand," Soundwave agreed. "Come. They are impatient."
Neither Soundwave nor Optimus knew who was leading who as they both crossed the threshold, and after the massive doors closed shut behind them, the couple traversed the great chamber and followed the pattern edged out on the floor that led straight to the chairs.
If, of course, the two elaborate thrones could be referred to as chairs.
Soundwave kept his gaze fixed ahead of him, and held his chin up proudly. He refused to gawp at the socially-powerful mechs that had gathered around just to watch them bond as if the entire affair was an exclusive private pornographic viewing. Had he lost his composure, he knew that he would not stop himself from projecting the hate he felt for each and every one of them and the death wish he held for them.
Together they bowed, both stiffly, and Prime turned with Soundwave circling around him. They approached the dais and Optimus climbed the two stairs with Soundwave before ushering his bondmate to sit. Then Prime took his own seat in the much larger chair, his hands automatically going to the armrests. While in the spotlight, all nervousness and apprehension had left Optimus. He was in the moment, and his optics were trained on Alpha Trion as the old mech stood up from his chair in the centre. Dead silence permeated the room, and Prime was afraid to draw a large breath.
"It gives me great honour to witness the bonding of two mates," Alpha Trion spoke, his voice echoing over the atrium. "I witnessed the first bonding, the bonding of Prima, and now in this time of war, I am to witness another."
Optimus inclined his head in acknowledgment. "We are honoured to have you, Alpha Trion, the wisest and oldest of all the Autobots," he replied.
The Prime's optics flickered ever so slightly as Soundwave's presence filtered through the stream of his consciousness to find the appropriate answer. When he did, Soundwave spoke. "We present ourselves, our bodies and spark for you bear witness to our union to the optics of Primus."
And then Soundwave shut up, sitting rigidly in his chair waiting to for the next part to happen. The camera drones began congregating around the couple again, the iris of their lens expanding and contracting with each minute movement. Soundwave twitched faintly and another camera dropped to the ground. Three more took its place, as if never affected.
A slight flicker of disapproval filtered through the bond. Optimus glanced over sharply at his mate. Soundwave ignored him.
Optimus Prime then glanced back up to Alpha Trion and the Council members that observed the proceedings coolly. Prowl was sitting next to Alpha Trion, tilted back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chassis. Obviously, he wasn't pleased. Gingerly, Optimus grabbed Soundwave's hand and stood up. Off to the side was a plain, but large berth. It had no covering, no thermal blankets, nothing on it. The surface looked cold and foreboding.
"Come," Optimus said quietly. "You're to sit on the berth, swing your legs over and lay down."
With the way Soundwave moved towards the berth, he might as well been a simple drone obeying a command. He had said nothing, nor made any expression on his face that indicated joy or sadness. Merely his mouth remained tight, his lips twisted and pressed together in a thin line. With a resentful look towards his bondmate, the telepath laid down primly on his back, staring upwards into the chamber's high ceiling that never seemed to end. It was as if he was waiting for his own surgery to commence.
With a look at his bondmate's prone form, Optimus carefully slid onto the berth, crawling on top of him. As he did so, privacy shields shot up. The moment that happened, the tension bled out from Soundwave's frame…barely. Their forms would still be visible, but only as shadows.
Optimus sat up, straddling Soundwave's waist.
"I know you don't want to do this, but the quicker we do, the sooner it will be over and we can forget this ever happened."
"I despise being a spectacle," Soundwave murmured, quietly so the others wouldn't hear.
"Our entire relationship will be a spectacle forevermore," Optimus replied. "We'll be followed with rapt interest. The Autobot bonding with the double-agent Decepticon. They won't stop. Not ever."
Optimus leaned down, pushing himself through the actions. He leaned down and kissed Soundwave's lips before transferring his attention to his bondmate's neck.
"Just…pretend we're somewhere else."
Soundwave's mouth twitched slightly, with amusement. "Optimus Prime's fantasy: location and choice of companion?"
Optimus ignored the remark, despite a hot wave of anger curling through his spark. He busied himself with touching Soundwave's chestplates with his hands, rubbing at the seams and smearing the paint while his glossa followed. Soundwave tried to send an override code to his chestplates, to force them to open despite his spark's wishes and yet his body disobeyed him. It did not care for etiquette, tradition or decorum. It simply wished to hide from the thousands of viewfinders trained open them. When Soundwave sent the code for a third time, his chestplates did end up cracking open…but only barely.
Finally, Soundwave lifted his hand from where he had it flat on the berth, wedging his fingers into the gaps to pry them further open, enough for the locking mechanism to disengage.
Optimus made a relieved noise. "Was that so hard, you callous glitch?" he muttered, digging his fingers in between the two detached pieces, tugging on them fiercely until they were forced to open farther to reveal a small intimate glimpse of Soundwave's lasercore.
There was a flash of colour in Soundwave's visor and he grabbed Optimus' collar ridge so he could tug him down. The world outside could only surmise that they were kissing but in reality, Soundwave was whispering heatedly against the Autobot's mouth.
"I do not reveal. I do not expose. I value my privacy. And yet, here I am publicly sparkbonding in front of my greatest enemies. My apologies for my lack of enthusiasm."
Optimus' blue optics glittered. "Another thing to take away from you then, if you decide to displease me. I thought you Decepticons liked public sex. My idea of fucking you like a bitch in front of the entire high command: not acceptable?" Optimus hissed back, mimicking his mate's speech.
The Decepticon wordlessly snarled at him. His top lip curled back from over his denta, razor-sharp with the large fangs gleamed dangerously underneath the light. The message was chestplates swivelled back to their full position and his lasercore rose up, practically pushing itself outwards. Then Soundwave did manage to find his voice.
"My pretend fantasy: off-planet. Fantasy partner: not you."
"You slay me, my precious bondmate," Optimus murmured, hunching down so that he could touch the exposed components. His glossa slid over Soundwave's hot lasercore. He kissed at it, drawing a hand up to stimulate the shell with the tips of his large fingers. "But as much as you don't want it, don't want to admit it, you'll never be able to leave me again unless one of us is dead. Thank the Matrix for that."
And predictably, Soundwave reacted, as he always did to Prime's taunts and touches. The plating covering his spark quivered when the other mech's hot glossa slid wetly down its slightly uneven surface and he arched his back just slightly, too proud to show how affected he was by the mere touch of his bondmate against his most intimate parts.
"Is the sentiment not likewise?" Soundwave asked.
Prime tilted his face up so his optics met Soundwave's visor. He paused for a moment, as if seriously considering the answer.
"I'll be honest. I have no intentions of dissolving the bond by whatever means – either that being time and distance, a bond with another, or your death or even after the birth of our future son. That is, as long as you prove useful to me. If you are a constant hindrance and a pain in my aft, you'll disappear."
Soundwave stared up at the handsome features of his mate until the red light of his visor rolled back as his helm lolled to the side. Puffs of filtered air escaped his vents and his vocaliser made muted chirps. It was almost as if he was laughing.
"The masses await, my Prime," Soundwave informed him. "Part your chestplates, expose your innermost secrets against my core and let the outsiders gorge on our image."
It was ironic that Optimus had significantly more trouble getting his own chestplates to open. He roughly rubbed at the seam that went between his glass windshield, pressing so hard that the glass cracked under his rough ministrations. He then drew his fingers down to the slatted bars of his grill, touching the soft components underneath in an effort to draw out his sensor net. Before Prime was near ready to rip his altmode's wipers off from sheer frustration, Soundwave's clawed hand stopped him.
"Relax," Soundwave told him calmly. "Allow me. Brace yourself."
The telepath shifted his position from underneath the larger mech, bringing his knee up so he could rub the inside of his leg against the tyres that ran along Prime's shin. His long fingers gently traced the seams where Prime had abused earlier, soothing the abrasions and it was only after he started that his telepathy registered inside the other mech's cortex. It flowed through his body like water, leaving behind a tingling sensation before it pooled around the area surrounding his spark. The Matrix did rouse, suspicious at the foreign power but once it identified it as non-threatening, it settled down again.
Alarm flowed through Optimus, but with it, so did the foreign sensation. He couldn't explain it, being touched so intimately with no apparent effort on Soundwave's behalf. A breathy moan escaped from his mouth before he could stop it.
"I…did not know you could do that," Optimus said tightly, clenching his denta together.
The telepath trailed the sharp tip of his talon lightly up the main seam where his chestplates would part. "I can do many…many, wonderful things with my power." And said power morphed into ghostly fingers that magically strummed the numerous wires surrounding Prime's spark like a well-oiled instrument. "Dare you find out?"
"See? This is what I mean about you being useful," Prime replied with a smarmy smirk. "But…please dear, wait until after the wedding to kill me."
Optimus opened his chestplates, parting them from what seemed to be too long of being closed. The Matrix twinkled before it slid up into the cavity over Optimus' lasercore, innocently giving permission. Then Prime's lasercore was pushed forward, the slightly blue tinted shell spiralling once before it shifted open to Optimus' bare spark. The sight to Soundwave was both frightening and exhilarating at once. He grabbed the broad shoulders and abruptly yanked down. Prime's arms buckled and their open chests crashed against each other with a jolt.
"I will not kill you. You have not outlived your usefulness to me, my Prime," Soundwave whispered against his mate's helm.
Still despite the confident words, Soundwave's spark remained shy inside its casing, refusing to reach out for its other half. The call was strong, despite their humiliating setting but it continued to stick against the back of Soundwave's lasercore.
"Open," Optimus hissed into Soundwave's audio. "Let's get this over with!"
Prime couldn't take the proximity of his mate's spark as easily – his own was jumping forward, pulsing in strong waves in an effort to entice its other half to come out to play. Optimus gasped against Soundwave's neck, kissing the tubing until he shifted up and rubbed his lips over the telepath's, sliding his glossa over them, wordlessly encouraging his bondmate to participate. Soundwave did manage to give in and his lips parting just a little was all Prime needed to push his glossa past them. The effect was electrifying and intimate for the both of them. Soundwave's mouth was almost scorching hot and wet with his oral oils. He panted up into Optimus' mouth, unable to stop his own glossa from slithering across Optimus's.
Soundwave dragged his claws down the plating of Optimus' back and he seemed so overwhelmed from their kiss that the coverings for his lasercore eventually did retract.
As with their previous bonding sessions, the result was instantaneous. The two halves leapt out at each other and with a flash of light, pressed their intimate beings together. Optimus' hand found purchase on a solar panelled wing and not recognizing the texture, he dug the tips of his fingers hard onto the smooth surface. He panted as a flurry of memories, thoughts and emotions assaulted him in such a wide array that he was left shocked.
Soundwave's thighs fell open, and his knees drew up, unable to wrap around Prime's waist due to the way he was currently straddling Soundwave's hips. So Soundwave's pedes thumped on the berth and he was oblivious to the scuffed marks that were left on his wing. His visor blazed bright, bright red and he did vocalise a moan this time. It was muffled, swallowed by Prime's mouth.
"Are you still lost in your fantasy with your fantasy lover, Optimus?" Soundwave demanded, tearing his mouth away. Trickles of oral fluid ran down his chin.
"You even have to be a bitch when I'm on the edge of overload too," Optimus grunted, instinctively drawing his chest up slightly only to slam it back down on Soundwave's. "I don't have fantasy lovers. If I want to fuck someone, I fuck them. Is that a fantasy to you?"
Heat poured out from Soundwave's vents, the paint already smeared all over the front of his chassis and helm. He placed his pedes and palms flat on the berth so he could push himself up against Prime.
"Soundwave: not a fantasy?" Soundwave purred, though the sound was riddled with static from the intensity of their bonding. "I am disappointed."
"Of course you're a fucking fantasy. If you weren't, I wouldn't have bothered touching you in the first place," Optimus snapped, finally allowing his spark to let his body overload. He scraped his chassis harshly against Soundwave's, grinding their sparks together. "My…greatest fantasy," Optimus managed to say through the thunderous roar of his engine and the sudden burst of air through his vents.
It was enough to send Soundwave into overload. The golden energy of his spark pushed outwards, straight into Prime's own lasercore and Soundwave's body frozen. Only his wings moved, the long appendages thumping down in his pleasure.
For the entire affair, the ending was anticlimactic. All the preparations, planning, dignitaries from off-world planets, the media – really the whole spectacle.
Optimus sat up, his chassis closing – spark safely tucked away.
"You are now…the official Royal Consort."
The mech below him continued to stare up. All the painstaking detail Chromia had painted earlier was ruined, smudged along his chassis and the energy of his spark continued to churn inside its casing. There was a roar of celebration outside their privacy shields and Soundwave's lips moved. The din had drowned out his quiet words but the resulting triumph present in his face was unmistakable.
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