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Soundwave finished tying the last knot, and sat back on his heels to admire his handiwork. Megatron gazed up at him impassively, optics dim and half-shuttered, cradled in a nest of pillows so he wasn’t forced to lie on his bound arms. The ropes criss-crossed over and around his Lord’s frame, intricate knotwork drawing the optic to the lace panels which covered his vents and accenting the fabric around them which emphasised his leader’s wonderfully holdable waist. His optics tracked down further, to where a similarly sheer piece of lace stretched over Megatron’s array, taking the place of his usual armoured modesty panel. More rope framed that, pinning it in place, holding it taut above a sleepily blinking anterior node and barely-damp valve.
“Rest.” he murmured, reaching out to Megatron with his mind and finding him open to suggestion, to manipulation, to attack if Soundwave dared it. He would never, of course, which was why this privilege was one granted to him and him alone. His processor linked with Megatron’s, and he eased his Lord and lover into recharge with a gentle touch perfected over a million years and change of practice. Soundwave longed to capture a holo of the moment, Megatron bound and beautiful, protected only by delicate fabric, but for all the permissions he’d been granted when it came to his leader’s unconscious frame, photography was not one of them. Should any other find out about this, find out that there were periods in which Megatron was incapacitated and Soundwave distracted...
Well, he was sure Starscream would do something with that information, and it would be nothing good.
Which left him with a warlord deep in recharge, beautiful beyond compare, and his to touch however he pleased. He started with gentle touches, tracing the outlines of his more intricate knots and the junctions where other lines crossed, watching the minute shifts of Megatron’s expression as his touch brushed against sensitive spots, slowly building his Lord’s charge. He ghosted his fingers over the lingerie panels covering Megatron’s abdominal vents, and felt his own panel tighten as the lace obscuring Megatron’s valve began to darken with lubricant, his Lord’s engine rumbling and vocaliser releasing a low moan.
Soundwave slid his mask back, and bent to press chaste kisses across the slats of those sensitive vents, drinking in every spark of charge in Megatron’s field, the unfettered lust building in his recharge-muted processor. He kissed along every slat in both vents, then shifted lower, trailing his lips down towards his Lord’s array. Megatron’s spike, impressive as it was, was trapped beneath a reinforced section of lace, a damp spot spreading from the tip. Soundwave gave it a tender kiss, glossa flicking out to tease it ever so briefly before he moved further down towards his true goal. Megatron’s valve, the mesh rim now flush with energon and shiny with lubricant, anterior node pulsing in time with the spin of his Lord’s quickening spark.
The dry lace was still taut enough to prevent him from simply wrapping his lips around Megatron’s node and sucking, but that was a good thing. Lord Megatron enjoyed his attentions most while unconscious, while he couldn’t overthink anything or get too tense for a proper overload. Soundwave hummed softly, pressing his glossa against the damp spot over his Lord’s valve to trace the warm, soft mesh of the rim. The wetter the lace grew, the more room he’d have to work, which was good because surface-level stimulation was nowhere near enough to make his Lord overload.
Megatron rumbled out a moan, and Soundwave pressed forward as far as the lingerie would allow, alternating between pushing the limits of the fabric cover to lick deep into Megatron’s valve and teasing light brushes of his lips and glossa over Megatron’s hot, flashing node. On an alert, unbound, and unadorned Megatron, valve stimulation was so ineffectual as to be a waste of time when attempting interface. As he was currently, it seemed no time at all before Soundwave was plunging his glossa as deep as it could go, rubbing the lace against his Lord’s charge-laden internal nodes.
Unsurprisingly, Megatron began to rouse as Soundwave tasted his charge, and Soundwave forced himself to sit back for a moment. Transforming aside his own panels, he took his spike in hand and stroked it slowly, recalling how their last session of this sort had ended. Megatron had woken early that time, managed to flip them despite his bonds and ridden Soundwave like a mech possessed. It had been incomparably arousing, but hopefully tonight wouldn’t be a repeat of that. Megatron liked to be woken by his overload, and he looked so lovely coming online in the throes of pleasure.
Once Megatron’s processor had simmered back down to defrag mode, Soundwave shuffled in again, this time circling Megatron’s valve with his fingers before sinking one, then two inside. He couldn’t get them quite to the knuckle, but every moment within Megatron’s eager valve loosened the fabric further, giving him more and more room to work his Lord open. He avoided his Lord’s node this time, brushing his thumb against the anterior rim of Megatron’s valve, playing with the protometal around the bright little nub but not quite touching the node itself. Primus, but he loved seeing Megatron like this, pliant and wanting, gorgeous in a way totally different from the image he projected of himself in public.
It was the lace, he thought. The fearsome, impossibly handsome leader of the Decepticons had no need for ornamentation, his raw charisma and sturdy frame were allure enough on their own. The Megatron in his berth though, carefully bound with deep purple rope and adorned with black lace, his most sensitive parts highlighted by the flimsy covers... perhaps it was simply Soundwave’s preference, but he didn’t think he would be half so invested in this if Megatron was simply unconscious. It was good that their tastes aligned, that Megatron trusted him with his most intimate needs.
Soundwave sunk a third finger into Megatron’s valve, and felt the lace hit its limit. Good, his patience was also nearing its end, and he could feel Megatron rousing again, his Lord’s processor drawn from the depths of a defrag cycle by Soundwave’s gentle but insistent touches. Megatron made a soft, needy noise when Soundwave removed his hand, and Soundwave responded in kind, his spike twitching as he grasped the lower edge of the lace panel and worked it free of the rope holding it so firmly in place. He could hardly tear his optics from Megatron’s face, his lips slightly parted, expression one of open desire, a naked need that only Soundwave could sate.
He wanted, so very badly, to kiss those lips. But of all the things Megataron wanted done to his unconscious frame, mouth-kissing was not one of them. His Lord preferred to be awake for such things, so that he could better claim whichever mouth had found his. Soundwave’s whole array throbbed, and he forced his gaze back down to Megatron’s valve, bare enough to frag while he spike was still trapped by the upper half of the lace panel. One of these times, he would convince Megatron to let him ride that lace-wrapped spike. Feel the texture added to his Lord’s natural ridges, the girth of it pushing his valve’s limits. But that was a fantasy yet. Tonight, Lord Megatron wanted his valve serviced, and Soundwave would happily do so.
He aligned himself carefully, and thrust into Megatron’s valve with a sharp jerk of his hips, bringing his fingers in to pinch at Megatron’s node, wrapping it in the loose lace and rolling the hot little nub with just the right amount of pressure. Megatron’s valve took him easily, but only just, the calipers perfectly snug around his spike as he set his Lord’s favoured brutal pace. It only took three thrusts for his Lord to jolt fully from recharge, and two more and a tug at his node to send Megatron spiralling into a powerful overload, the clench of his calipers enough to tip Soundwave over the edge as well, his charged transfluid making Megatron spasm as a second, only slightly lesser overload ripped through him.
Soundwave pulled out as soon as he could bear to do so, and when Megatron collapsed strutless on the berth he groped blindly behind his Lord’s back for the release line. The ropes slacking assured him he had found it, and Soundwave allowed himself to lay curled against Lord Megatron’s side for a klik before he pushed himself up and began removing the ropes and lace. Lord Megatron stretched languidly when he was freed, and his engine purred happily as Soundwave began wiping lubricant from his thighs.
“Thank you, Soundwave.” Megatron murmured as Soundwave finished cleaning his Lord’s array and manually eased the modesty panels closed. “I trust you enjoyed yourself as well?”
Soundwave nodded, and let his Lord tug him down so they laid together on the berth in the remains of Megatron’s nest of pillows. Megatron’s arm rested heavy over his waist, arm tucked up against the length of his back, and Soundwave allowed himself to drift towards recharge, safe in a way he rarely felt outside of Megatron’s arms.