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Soundwave came online to the feeling of warm metal pressed to his side. Not letting to that he was conscious, he assessed his condition. Internal diagnostics spit warnings, but it was just a residue from engex overcharge. All calibration was off by numbers and he knew he should be very careful onlining his optics and audials - he was likely to be blinded and deafened by the intensity of the uncalibrated input.
It had been a Pit of a party yesterday, but a peace treaty deserved nothing less.
The heated form beside him shifted slightly, pressing more into his chassis and a servo landed on his side. Soundwave wasn't sure who of his usual facing partners had claimed him last night - logs were scrambled and he didn't feel like decrypting them at the moment. But regardless of who it might be, none of them were the snuggling type, so they must have been as overcharged as he himself at the moment.
The periphery was coming online out of usual boot sequence, and Soundwave found himself reaching out telepathically even before his optics powered up.
The hand on his chassis moved absentmindedly, stroking along a transformation seam. Despite the movement, the other was in deep recharge. Soundwave carefully eased himself into the sleeping mind and found...
his own maskless and blurry face looking back at him as the dream-he writhed under the dreamer and moaned in shameless wanton. The dream was first person view, and while he had a perfect view of his blurry Doppelganger coming undone under the skillful ministrations of black hands attached to red forearms, the black hands and red forearms were all he was seeing of the host.
Soundwave admitted the hands appeared to know where to tweak, though he would never allow himself such a loss of dignity. Anger stirred within the telepath.
The coloring scheme of the parts he saw wasn't one he would expect. Very few decepticons went for red and black for the hands... Careful not to let his presence disturb the sleeping mech, the spy concentrated on the hands, trying to ignore his own distorted image.
Thrust? Dead end? Neither was in his particularly good graces. Neither had any claim to imagine Megatron's Third in Command submitting to them.
Truly irritated now, the telepath reached for the core programming, looking for designation.
At the same time, his vision finally stabilized.
The navy-white mech turned his helm carefully to face... No. Primus, no!
He had to reset the optics. Blaster.
Sealing a treaty by interfacing wasn't unheard of, but why in Primus's name did he have to pick Blaster?!
And how dared this autobot scum imagine for a second he could _top_ him?! Soundwave was suoerior and no amount of engex could make him act like that. A lesson was in order.
The decepticon dived into this insulting dream, subtly warping it around, changing it. The fake him became more active, started to return caresses (the telepath had to dig deep into his logs to fish out most pleasurable tactile data). Luckily, - or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, - the frame similarity allowed to directly transfer sensations into the recipients net.
Still in hibernation, the autobot beside him tensed, sighed and snuggled closer.
Subtly... Subtly...
Soundwave eased himself up and braced on a servo, looking down his autobot counterpart. In hibernation, stern and determined expression that he usually saw on his enemy face plates was gone and Soundwave was surprised to see Blaster had quite delicate features.
The dream-him reached up to cup the dream-Blaster's face and delicately traced his features with the fingertips, pausing to push slightly against the dermas.
Soundwave reached into the depths of his memory. He had that done to him once. Most enjoyable.
The autobot gave out a small sound when tactile data was fed into him. The spy was wrapping his mind up in pleasure so thick it was nearly palpable and Blaster moaned louder, arching into the dream-touch. His frame trembled as periphery submitted to unconscious command and the temperature began to climb.
Soundwave reached out to touch and play with the buttons of his cassette compartment even as his dream-doppelganger did the same. The deck opened to his touch, letting him tweak and knead the wiring inside.
And the dream Soundwave did just that, earning another deep moan. The real Soundwave, however, rose and stood for a while watching his rival counterpart writhe. He recorded every single bit of sound the red mech made and enjoyed the sight immensely.
The spy positioned himself at the door while increasing the intensity of the dream.
His doppleganger straddled the red leg struts now, bot servos wrist-deep in Blaster's cassette compartment. He reached down to sample copper contacts with his glossa... unnaturally long glossa that Soundwave 'borrowed' from Ravage.
The red frame shuddered, the deck opening wider...
The real Soundwave shook his helm slightly. It was unbelievable how the autobot let his guard down like that. What was he thinking tricking the telepath to his berth?!
Probably, engex did the thinking for him. Pity he couldn't extinguish his spark now. But Megatron had made a treaty, and Soundwave would stand by it.
Data cables uncoiled and slid along Blaster's chassis, filaments active and sparking with occasional static discharge... they tested the seams, the joints, unmistakingly finding sensitive spots... Soundwave's helm tilted up to fix the bot with an intent gaze as the con hooked a wire up with his glossa and played with it. Blaster bit his lip. His hands were trapped under white knees and every involuntary twitch and movement he made was restrained by that navy-white chassis. There was no choice but to just take it, let the enemy do those wonderful things to his frame and simply enjoy it. Filaments positioned above hardline connectors, and the spy leaned down to him and brought his mouth to Blaster's audial. Glossa lashed out, sampling the audial and drawing another shudder off the autobot before Soundwave's uncoded voice said: 'and now I would plug into every single last of your sockets and fill you with my music'
Blaster gasped.
'You'd like that, wouldn't you?'
Blaster's port covers shifted , twitching open , but filaments remained outside, their touches lingering around the sockets.
Soundwave was withdrawing and the red bot moved after him, desperately clinging to proximity.
'P-please. Soundwave...'
And Soundwave plugged in...
As the autobot's Communications Officer spasmed in overload, the decepticon Communications Officer slipped out of his room. He felt satisfied with his work. Not only didn't his object realise he was being manipulated, he clearly lost the distinction between a dream and reality. It was a pity that he couldn't tell anyone about this practical joke, for the pride for this little mind game didn't overweight the disgrace of 'facing an autobot... however, the footage and the vulnerability that he had planted into his rival counterpart today would come in handy when this so-called 'peace treaty' goes up the Moon. And he had a feeling that would happen quite soon...