Surplus 3/?

[stainless]

Title: Surplus (Part 3)
Characters: Megatron/Soundwave, mentions of Megatron/Starscream
Verse: G1
Wordcount: 2,290+
Rating: MA
Contains: Sticky, D/s
Summary: Part 1 of this was originally a minific for the "first times" meme going around on LJ. I posted it to FFN and didn't mark it complete which led to people wanting the gloriously sticky details. Which appears to be leading to a series.

Some time has passed; Megatron has gone back to his regular everyday life, including his usual dalliances with Starscream. Soundwave has done his best to make his peace with this and allow things to return to normal. Until he discovers that there's more Megatron wants from him than what he took the first time.

Thanks to dogstar for beta.

( Part 1 )
( Part 2 )

Very little had changed.

Soundwave knew there was no sense in being jealous. Megatron's preferred partner: Starscream, he reminded himself sternly. That had always been true. For as long as Soundwave had known the two of them, he'd sensed their desire for one another, a hot whirl of angry heat so intense that sometimes he felt it even when he left his filters intact.

It had never made sense to him, not in any way his logic circuits could untangle. Megatron valued order and obedience. Starscream cared nothing for either, openly proclaiming his intentions to someday depose him.

Once, long ago, these pronouncements had alarmed Soundwave. As unpleasant as he found rooting around in Starscream's processor, the good of the Decepticons demanded that he determine what Starscream truly intended.

He had found no plan, nor even the sort of emotion that would indicate that Starscream had one - determination, careful planning, investment in some idea or vision. He had found only a seething roil of indignation, ambition, and a white-hot jealousy he could not understand. But long vorns of life as a telepath had taught him that he didn't need to understand something to feel it. And feeling Starscream's jealousy, he had learned, meant feeling Starscream's lust. One followed the other, chasing after one another, flame feeding flame.

And he didn't have to understand Megatron's response to feel that, either.

He could sense it now, even. Or some of it, anyway. the bright possessive whirl of the Decepticon leader's desire, the yearning to take and claim and possess. He pressed himself carefully against the wall, trusting to the shadows to hide him. The last thing he wanted right now was to get in Megatron's way when Megatron was thinking about someone el -

For a brief instant, he wondered if the force slamming him into the wall of the alcove he'd tucked himself into was an illusion, Megatron's lust lancing through his mind hard enough to disorient him. But the pain as he hit the wall thudded through his own sensornet and vibrating through his frame, and the hands on his plating were dark and real and the heat that flickered through his circuits as they moved on him was very much his own.

Desired partner: Soundwave? he thought, his processor spinning. He looked up to see his Lord's face, almost touching his own, and he barely remembered to retract his battlemask in time for his lips to meet Megatron's.

His spark whirled in his chest, twisting over itself. He'd retracted his battlemask for his Leader only once before. And that time, Megatron had ordered him to do it. Had threatened him, in fact.

This, too, he could never have refused. If Megatron's lips had met the blank metal of his battlemask, anything that Megatron might have done to punish him would pale in comparison to his own shame at keeping himself hidden.

Soundwave knew this. And yet, this was his mouth, a part of himself he showed to no one. And this wasn't Megatron looking and touching. This was meeting Megatron's desire with his own, open and shameless. His faceplates burned and he trembled, unsure whether he'd been defiled or blessed.

He whimpered, a tinny droning sound, relaxing into the mouth pressing down on his because he could do nothing else. Megatron's frame vibrated in a rumbling purr, and Soundwave felt Megatron's spark pulse as if it were his own. Heat crackled through his systems in response, and he felt his own spark hum with deep contentment. His purpose was Megatron's pleasure, and he could sense it all around him now, thrilling through his processor, sharp and bright.

Megatron broke the kiss and pulled away. Soundwave moaned, missing his lord's weight pressing him into the wall. He felt naked now as well. He had no excuse for its exposure, not without Megatron's own mouth covering his, hiding it from the air and from the others who might walk by any moment, might see them, might see him -

Fingers tracing along the contours of the window of his chest brought him back to the present. He sighed in pleasure and relief, remembering his symbionts, as glad as Megatron was that they were gone now. They would not have known what was happening, no, but they would have sensed his yearning. And they would have felt the shame that burned hot through his systems now, the fear of being seen, the fear of knowing that someone was seeing him now, the only one he deemed worthy of seeing him this way.

And he could feel Megatron's response, dark amusement that told Soundwave that his lord knew exactly what he had done, and that it pleased him.

Then Soundwave sensed more - an image, a fantasy that told him exactly what Megatron intended.

Agitation crackled through his circuits. He should have been appreciative, he knew. The image filling Megatron's mind was of Soundwave, not of Starscream. His guess had been right. For the moment at least, Megatron had chosen him.

His spark pulsed with pride to know that his Leader wanted him above any other. He should exult in it, he knew. No other emotion should mar his joy now.

And yet his mouthplates still burned hot with humiliation. Starscream: shameless. Soundwave: not. He froze, hesitant in spite of himself. Megatron had taken him one before, and he knew that his lord had enjoyed it. But never like that.

Megatron chuckled, not kindly. "Down."

Soundwave fell to his knees automatically. He'd never seen Megatron give the command to Starscream - at least, not in this context. But he'd caught enough snatches of memory and thought and desire from both of them to know exactly what Megatron meant.

His visor flickered as his knees hit the floor with an ungainly, loud clang, the impact stinging his plating. He thought of the many images of Starscream he'd picked up, the hours he'd spent poring over them, divining what Megatron most desired. Starscream would have slid to the floor in front of Megatron with effortless grace and pouted, waiting, eager for the order that would come next. Soundwave's spark contracted. How could he compete?

He reached his hands out to touch his lord's frame. His valve ached, remembering Megatron's thick spike filling it.

That, he could do. That, he had done. And he knew, from the knowing smiles that Megatron had given him since and the flares of amused desire he sensed when Megatron did so. But this he had never done. And he had nothing now to offer Megatron, not when there was no seal for his lord to break.

"Request -" he stammered, his own noise too loud in his audio receptors.

Megatron's optics flared. "Denied."

Soundwave twitched, sensing the hot wave of irritation crackling through his lord's mind. And then, under it, a darker current, a smoky self-satisfaction. Soundwave wondered at it. But it, too, had become familiar to Soundwave, after so many vorns of sensing it from Megatron after his many meetings with Starscream.

Loyalty: unconditional, he reminded himself, his vocalizer emitting a low hum as he stared at his lord's thick spike. His spark crackled, eager in spite of itself.

He heaved a sigh through his vents, collecting his thoughts. Images replayed through his mind. He'd carefully collected them, storing them in his memory banks, creating a database, indexing Megatron's desires. He never thought he would ever have to use it.

Now he saw it all: Starscream, licking his lips, his optics flaring as he studied the prize in front of him. Starscream, laving Megatron's spike with his glossa, flicking and twisting it in ways Soundwave still had not analyzed. Starscream's mouth, opening wide, taking all of Megatron's thick spike down his throat despite its size.

Motors deep within Soundwave's frame stalled, sputtering. He could easily replay the images in his mind. Many times per second, in fact.

But try as he might, he could not imagine himself doing the things he had seen Megatron remember or fantasize about. His mouth was his most private place, more private even than his valve. He would offer it to Megatron because his lord wished it. But to imitate Starscream's brazen maneuvers would be something else entirely.

He opened his mouth wide, bringing it as close to Megatron's spike as he dared.

His Leader chuckled, a rough, rasping laugh, and Soundwave felt everything that came with it, the impatience, the hunger, the desire to use what lay in front of him. He shuddered, his own systems surging with energy in helpless response. His processor reeled as he struggled to reason out how best to proceed.

Then the choice was taken away from him as hands grabbed roughly at his helm and Megatron's spike thrust hard into his mouth.

Soundwave's plating was thick and strong, but the inside of his mouth was built of far thinner and more sensitive metal than the rest of him. The invasion pushed and tore at it, setting every sensor in his mouth ablaze. He cried out, the single note his vocalizer emitted muffled from the spike choking him.

If his lord was displeased at his lack of finesse, he gave no sign. He drove into Soundwave harder. Soundwave felt the physical force of it, the stretch and sting of Megatron's spike forcing its way into his throat.

But with that assault came the similar force of his lord's emotions, the heat racing through the sensors in Megatron's spike and making his spark pulse with heat. Soundwave felt that, too, the elation that came with it, the hunger to rend and tear and claim.

His valve pulsed so hard that he gave another needy, monotone whine around the spike in his mouth. Megatron: aware, he realized, a flurry of memory-images flashing before him of his own coyness, his own reluctance to present his mouth.

He'd known it already, of course. Megatron was no fool. But now it was obvious. Now he could no longer pretend that Megatron didn't realize he'd torn through Soundwave's secrets.

Soundwave shuddered, his hand sliding to his valve cover and stopping there, feeling his own heat but not daring to do anything more. Purpose: Megatron's pleasure. He could handle his own need later, the next time he was alone

Instead he shifted the plating inside and outside his mouth as best he could, sliding them into awkward half-transformations that he hoped would enable it to open wider. Starscream would laugh if he knew, laugh and mock him forever. If he lowered his filter he might see exactly how Starscream accomplished the same thing, smoothly and elegantly.

But for the moment, he no longer cared. Purpose: Megatron's pleasure, and any tool he could discover to bring it about, he would use, no matter how awkward.

He never knew, not for certain, whether Megatron realized exactly what he had done. He felt only the searing pulse of his lord's spark in overload, racing through his systems as though it were his own, as Megatron's transfluid flooded his abraded mouth and throat.

Soundwave did not overload himself. Or at least, he didn't think he had. Shocks sang through Megatron's systems, and he was no longer entirely sure where his own processor ended and the other began.

He felt the spike withdraw, his aching mouth suddenly empty, and remembered himself again.

He swallowed hard, half to make sure to take in the last of Megatron's emission and half to ease the stinging in his plating. Electrical pulses crackled through his spark and his valve clenched, heedless of its own emptiness.

He offlined his optical arrays, focusing on the sensation and emotion flowing through him, both his own and his lord's.

A hand curled around his chin, tilting his head up. "Soundwave. Turn your visor back on. Look at me."

Soundwave did, his visor flickering back online in a flare of red. Megatron ran one of his fingers over Soundwave's lips and chuckled as Soundwave trembled under his hand.

"Megatron -" Soundwave intoned, relieved that he could speak again.

He could not tell whether Megatron understood everything he intended by the word. He detected amusement, satiation, possessiveness, pleasure. Perceiving exactly what Megatron was thinking would take further probing, and that was not Soundwave's place.

He paused, watching his Leader intently. After a long moment, he slid his battlemask over his mouth again and inclined his head in a respectful nod.

Megatron laughed again as he moved away, stepping back into the light of the hallway, his spike cover already closed.

Soundwave said nothing more, hastily scanning to be sure no one was there to see them. Satisfied that no one had seen anything, he followed Megatron out.

Smug satisfaction twisted through his lord's thoughts. Feeling the emotion crackle through his own spark in its turn, he grinned. An undignified expression, perhaps - but none of the other Decepticons would ever see it, after all.