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): Scenario - getting discovered doing something truly embarrassing

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Ratbat settled back, hanging motionless from Thundercracker's forearm. The jet had half-raised his arm from the chair's armrest when the little technimal spoke, but disbelief had frozen the motion in midair. Now the Cassetticon hung at an odd angle with the peaceful stillness of someone who had well and truly gotten his revenge. It took no energy to send out vibes of smug victory.

Losing took a lot of energy. Actually, it pretty much sucked energy out of its victim and flared it out to catch as much attention as possible. Embarrassment stood out from Frenzy like a geothermal event. Hook a power converter up to him and the jagged waves of shame flaring in his aura could produce energon cubes. His notorious temper squashed under the weight of panic, and shame brought his hands up defensively instead of angrily.

"I - I - wait, i-it's not what you think!" Skywarp's jaw had dropped when Ratbat's tidbit of information hit home, and Frenzy's empty palms waved as if he could push the jet's mouth shut. As if things could smooth over just like that. Frenzy reached for calm and got a surging torrent of fear. "I'm not - I mean, he's just - I wouldn't - c-couldn't - hold on, hold on, don't look at me like I - "

His imagination obligingly produced sixty different scenarios of how his humiliation would spread through the Decepticon ranks. A Cassetticon with a foot fetish. It'd hand the world of larger 'bots a surefire key to tormenting him daily. All it would take is a subtle twist of the heel as he passed, and the lowest-ranked soldier could hold his deepest secret over his head for the world to see.

Thundercracker's optics were wide and bright red with surprise, flicking between Ratbat and Frenzy uneasily. The technimal rested, completely at ease. Frenzy all but writhed in agonized contrast, almost tripping as he hastily backed away from Skywarp's open thrusters as if suddenly realizing how thoroughly his avid watching had given his interest away. Thundercracker tucked his own feet back around behind the base of his chair. Not that the small Cassetticon could do anything to him, but something about feet turning the little mech's engines left Thundercracker cold. It just didn't make sense. At least, not to Thundercracker, and not understanding something gave him an aversion to it.

Ratbat obviously got what made his fellow Cassetticon tick, however, as Frenzy's squirming had degenerated quickly. That particular pleading whine had an involuntary sound to it, sort of like Starscream when he stared down Megatron's fusion cannon. "C'mon, Skywarp! I'd never laid a finger on you!"

It obviously hit Frenzy exactly how wrong that sounded at the same time it occurred to Thundercracker, because the blue jet recoiled hard enough to knock Ratbat's head against the chair while the technimal broke his smug silence enough to interject a chortle into the horrified pause. Frenzy's defensiveness kicked up a notch, but his commlink clicked on ferociously:

*"You dirty slagger! Frag you sideways with a Roto-Rooter! I'll saw your wings off with a dull spoon and feed them to you when I catch you! Filthy flying sack of waste! Pigeon-fucking, duck-waddling ball of Insecticon smelt! I'll - I'll get you for this!"*

Ratbat didn't even bother replying.

"W-wait, that's not - I didn't mean - it's not that I don't want to - no, no wait - oh, frag me." Frenzy's hands trembled a bit as he held them out in helpless appeal. Conflicting emotions tore at his self-control, and deep in his spark was a filtered poke of outside alarm as Rumble picked up on his twin's panic.

Even more distant, a background hum of concern rose in the back of his mind. Soundwave couldn't sense his spark like Rumble, but evidently the communication officer was close enough to see Rumble's reflected distress. Neither could contact him via the comm. network with him here on Pentayear, but they both were trying to check on him. That only magnified his own ricocheting state of mind.

Thundercracker was staring at him with some form of disgust painted across his face, and that was a bad sign. Thundercracker was the tolerant one of his trine. Skywarp still seemed sunk in shock. Any moment now, the more volatile black-and-purple Seeker was going to lash out with the loud-mouthed reactionary hate characteristic of Skywarp encountering anything he didn't get. Skywarp would publically air the whole issue, pummel Frenzy's pride to tiny, itty-bitty pieces, and then the whole slagging party would know.

He could kiss his dignity goodbye. A foot fetish? When it came to perversions, unless most of the galaxy had it, most 'bots typically didn't get it. Things people didn't understand made for wonderful gossip, and a great big representative slice of Decepticon civilians and soldiers were present - just in this building alone! - -to not get it and then talk about it at length with everyone they met for the next eternity.

Frenzy was screwed like a Phillip's screwdriver up the aft. Only more spectacularly. A screwdriver with fireworks spelling out 'Freak with an unnatural lust for your feet! Feel free to point and laugh!'

Oh, Ratbat was good.

Frenzy was going to kill him.

If, that is, he didn't die of embarrassment first. The way his own foot kept lodging itself in his mouth, it wasn't surprising that he had a fetish for other mechs'. Even as Frenzy sputtered and apologized and corrected and basically dug a nice deep hole for himself, a nagging thought kept wondering how the inside of Skywarp's thruster might taste. He really wanted to find out. Would there be the tingle of leftover ionization in the air inside, or maybe a smoky aftertaste on the metal itself? He wanted to twine his fingers in the exposed cables, pull them downward in intimate caress, and mouth the end of the Seeker's elegantly whorled thrusters. He wanted to lick and nibble until Skywarp moaned. He wanted to see the jet's face from over the rim.

He'd frozen mid-flinch, keeping his shoulders hunched in preparation. Prisoners waiting for condemnation expected more mercy than him. A roiling hatred for Ratbat and irrepressible lust collided between mind and body and fell like a wave of heat down the inside of his chest plate. It was a sick, filthy sensation that he never, ever wanted to experience. Yet at the same time, it was silky as an oil spill and hotter than a sheet of fire, and he never wanted it to end.

It all flashed persistently through his head, and cringing humiliation at his continued perversion compacted in his throat over his vocalizer. It sat there like a lump of lead.

Frenzy stared mutely up Skywarp, waiting for judgment, and part of him secretly anticipated the kick he knew Skywarp was going to aim his way.

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