Giftfic for eerian_sadow: Devotion

[stainless]

Title: Devotion
Characters/Pairing: Megatron and Shockwave (non-explicit slashiness)
Verse: Transformers Animated
Wordcount: 1,400+
Rating: I don't know, really. It's not explicit. PG?
Warnings: Nothing, really.
Summary: This is a gift for eerian_sadow, who wanted some TFA Megatron/Shockwave for the holidays. I really liked the idea, actually, and had a lot of fun with this one. I like Shockwave being an unquestionably loyal Decepticon; I never liked the idea that all Decepticons are inherently treacherous. It makes Shocky interesting to write: why is he so loyal? What's it mean? In this story, I decided to play with that question. And hopefully also be hot.

Shockwave rolled toward his leader's throne slowly, trying to keep his engine quiet. It would never do to be too loud when Lord Megatron requested his presence.

Especially not now, he thought, rolling carefully up to the throne, transforming, and sliding to his knees. Not when his lord had chosen to give him the honor of a private meeting.

He trembled slightly, inclining his head. "My liege?" he asked. "You... have need of me?"

"Yes." Shockwave knew that the proper thing to do would be to keep his head down, but he couldn't resist looking up at the sound of that rich voice.

A smile crept over Megatron's silver face. The warlord's dark hand reached down to touch Shockwave's shoulder lazily, as it might touch anything that belonged to it.

"Unlike others," Megatron went on, "I know that I can depend on your loyalty."

Shockwave shivered again, glad that unlike most other mechs he had little resembling a face. When you had only one optic sensor set into a dark head, it became very difficult for others to tell what you were thinking.

The only clues to his emotions were his two antlers, twin pieces of silver metal rising from each side of his purple head. Those twitched from his lord's touch before he could stop them.

His spark swirled, too, and he thanked Primus inwardly that the other was touching his shoulder rather than his chest. If Megatron had touched him there, he would surely feel the warmth under his hand.

"It is an honor to serve you, Lord Megatron," Shockwave said finally. Just like everyone else did.

And yet, so few of the others meant it. Starscream certainly didn't. The moment after the words left his vocalizer, he'd go right back to preening, wings twitching with his own self-importance. And just moments after professing his fealty he'd squawk something about just what he thought was wrong with his leader's latest plan.

And yet Lord Megatron had made that pile of insubordinate scrap his second in command. Shockwave growled low. Someday their leader would tire of the overbearing pink fool. When he did, Shockwave would be there to tear the little traitor apart with his bare claws. Assuming, of course, that Megatron didn't want to do the honors himself.

Irritated with himself for letting his attention wander, Shockwave looked up again.

"You have gathered valuable intelligence on our enemies." Megatron was saying, his other hand moving to stroke the side of Shockwave's head.

He knows, Shockwave thought, faltering even as he felt a new wave of heat flood his systems. Megatron smirked, watching him freeze. Then, the silver mech went on talking, as if all of this were perfectly routine. As if he were simply giving his intelligence officer an assignment, without -- without --

"All while avoiding detection by our enemies, who continue to believe that we are scattered along the Outer Rim, our command structure fragmented, our supply lines broken."

Shockwave sighed, struggling to focus on what his lord was saying rather than on the spark whirling ever faster inside his chest. The warlord chuckled softly, still running his fingertips along the side of Shockwave's chin.

"Iacon is filled with incompetents who believe they've won because they like the idea that they must have. Still, their ignorance cannot entirely be credited to their stupidity. I must say that is impressive."

How long had it been since Megatron had praised him? Unable to stop himself, Shockwave sighed again and leaned into his lord's hand.

"But I require more than simply gathered information," Megatron murmured, his fingers sliding up the side of Shockwave's head, finding the thin metal of his antler and wrapping around it. Shockwave moaned as the dark hand moved.

Struggling to clear his vocalizer, the purple mech spoke. "Of course, my liege. Anything..."

"Anything?" The other raised an optic ridge, amused by his spy's flustered response. "Anything you want" was never a wise thing to say. Not to him.

"I --" Shockwave tried, and then fell silent. I would subdue the galaxy itself and offer it to you as a gift, my liege, he thought, his spark whirling madly as the other's hand moved on the sensitive metal of his antler.

The hand slowed as Megatron continued. Shockwave thanked his lord or Primus or both for the slight reprieve. Now he might, at least, be able to fight his burning spark long enough to actually understand what Megatron was telling him.

"I need more than information. I need someone on the inside. I need someone who can do more than collect their secrets. I need someone who can win their trust, enter their strongholds -- and offline their defenses when they least expect it."

Shockwave's head drooped, his optic flaring in disappointment. Infiltration? That would mean going back to Cybertron, and for more than just information-gathering.

That would mean staying. Perhaps even staying for vorns, if needed.

That would mean no longer being here. No longer being near him.

"My liege," he stammered, his optic dimming in despair. "Am I not needed here?"

The hand at his antler stilled abruptly, and then tightened. Shockwave's vocalizer emitted a high beep of pain.

"I need someone whose loyalties I can be certain of." The warlord's optics flared an angry red as he clutched the thin metal in his hand. "You should consider this mission an honor, Shockwave."

Shockwave's talon clutched feebly at air. "Of course, my lord. I am honored beyond words that you would so value my devotion."

"But." The silver face twisted into a frown.

Shockwave winced at the word. "My liege, it is nothing. I forgot myself. I -- I have no function beyond serving your will."

The warlord growled. He had wanted an explanation, not another profession of faithfulness. But the other, his single optic flaring and his claws grasping at nothing, clearly did not wish to confess.

Oh, Megatron could make him. And judging from the delightful responses his spy had been struggling to mask throughout this meeting, doing so would prove highly entertaining.

Still, loyalty like this from one so useful was rare. The only one as devoted to him was Lugnut, and Lugnut was the sort of fool who would fly into the central square in Iacon and shout praises of his lord and of the Decepticon cause with his vocalizer turned to full volume, dooming their revolution before it even began. Shockwave was the only one both intelligent enough to take on the mission and trustworthy enough not to betray him while executing it.

If he pushed the purple mech too far, he might well poison that trust. Not destroy it -- he doubted anything he did could destroy such steadfastness -- but corrode it, tarnish it and leave a foothold for its eventual disintegration. He needed it intact and uncorrupted for however many solar cycles, or even vorns, it would take to bring his plans to fruition.

The warlord relaxed his grip on Shockwave's antler. His other hand slid from the point of the purple mech's shoulder to his chest, moving to rest over the Decepticon insignia branded there.

His optics widened in mild surprise at the heat he felt there. He could feel the throb of the other's spark, the shivers of electricity as his fingers moved along the plating.

He had seen the other respond to his touch, of course. Most of his followers did, when he chose to toy with them. He had not, however, realized the depth of the desire his spy was feeling. "So this is why you don't want to go," he murmured, his lip quirking into a smile.

Shockwave whimpered once, half from the touch and half from his leader's words. Then he raised his head. "Yes, my lord. I -- I had hoped that you -- that perhaps, someday, if I served you well enough --" He cut himself off. To say even this much was brazen enough.

The warlord laughed, feeling the spark under his hand lurch in eagerness and fear. An answering heat rose in his own spark, tendrils of lightning wheeling through his chest.

"I see no reason to dash this hope of yours, my servant," Megatron murmured, pressing his hand firmly against the symbol under his hand. "Perhaps, if you do, you will earn this reward -- once your mission is finished."

"Of course, my lord," Shockwave answered, his voice soft. "I am yours to command, and I will not fail you."