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Shockwave has always prided himself in being professional and loyal to the Decepticon cause. His loyalty, his fealty, is unmatched by anyone—despite what Lugnut might think. He’s practiced and dutiful and efficient and—
He’s not supposed to be in love with an Autobot, of all mechs, not supposed to have these mockeries of feelings. That’s not what he’s supposed to do, what he’s supposed to be.
But unfortunately for him, emotions are volatile and unpredictable. No matter much he wishes it weren't true. They’re more spark than processor and—Shockwave has a duty to his Lord that doesn’t involve bright yellow cadets. It doesn’t involve smiles that are a tad too bright and competitive. Nor does it involve spending his days trying to catch Bumblebee’s optics.
Or maybe it should, he quietly reasons to himself. It makes sense for a recruit to have a crush. It makes sense for them to want romance and adventure and love. Recruits want those kind of things and can have what Decepticon officers cannot.
Longarm can have what Shockwave cannot.
So it’s an easy and hard decision when he befriends Bumblebee, when he smiles at him and it means something. Sure, it feels more fake than real because Shockwave knows he’d never be able to really smile at him, but the thought, the intent, behind it is. He means it in his spark.
And maybe that’s when it all spirals downward? When he looks and Bumblebee and decides yes, I want that for real and makes plans that aren’t coated in loyalty and professionalism and pride. Plans that no longer serve his Cause and his Lord and his Master, but that serve… well, Shockwave and his emotions.
But somehow he ends up hunting Bumblebee down in the canteen. Bumblebee’s smile is bright as he chatters to Bulkhead, his friend and companion. Bulkhead looks so fond of the little mech. Shockwave—Longarm—knows them both well enough to see when the larger mech says, “That’s great, little buddy.”
It makes irritation and fondness color Bumblebee’s expression, though the second is more hidden. It’s sweet and lovely and Shockwave has never wanted anything more.
“Hey, Bumblebee,” Shockwave calls out to him in Longarm’s voice. A little different, a little off, but something he is long used to.
Bumblebee turns to face him. His optics are bright with amused joy. He’d clearly been having fun and Shockwave is almost sorry to pull him away but, well, he’s not. Not really. This is something that he wants. He just needs to tell him.
“Longarm!” Bumblebee greets and his optics seem to become brighter if possible. He sounds happy and it makes a knot form in Shockwave’s tanks. Nervousness, perhaps.
“I’m sorry to interrupt but,” Shockwave pauses. He knows what he wants to say and how to say it, but now that he’s here he feels like a newbuild. It’s out of character and dizzying, but something he must get past.
He starts again, “Can I speak to you?”
Bumblebee gives an enthusiastic nod, “’Course you can, Longy. Lay it on me.”
Shockwave’s gaze shifts to Bulkhead and then back to Bumblebee. He knew that Bumblebee wasn’t bright, but oblivious too? Well, he supposes he knew that. He should be more clear. “I meant I want to speak to you alone. Nothing against Bulkhead or anything, but this is private.”
Bumblebee looks toward Bulkhead as if almost in search of assurance or permission. It is sometimes jarring to remember that, despite all of his appearances, Bumblebee cares very deeply for his friends, even those that are likely temporary.
“Go on, little buddy,” Bulkhead says warmly, not-so-gently—but gently for Bulkhead—pushing him forward.
Bumblebee stumbles and shoots Bulkhead an annoyed look over his shoulder. Then he straightens himself and the beaming smile returns, “Alright, you heard him. Let’s go.”
Bumblebee is one step ahead of him, but really Shockwave leads the way. He points and tells Bumblebee where to go and Bumblebee listens even as he goes on and on about his latest break in training.
“—And then Bulkhead got kicked out of an oil bar because he knocked over a waiter,” Bumblebee chatters as they finally get to somewhere quiet.
They find themselves behind the building that houses the washracks, the cadets refer to them as the locker rooms for an unknown reason.
“So, what’d you need?” Bumblebee asks as he stops.
Shockwave takes a moment to take it all in then vents long and hard. “I need to speak to speak to you.”
“Obviously,” Bumblebee says. He almost sounds… nervous?
For all the bravado that he could claim, when Shockwave finally turns to face him, Bumblebee’s face is twisted in some insecure expression that tugs at Shockwave’s spark. Nervousness and resignation coat his expression despite the fact that he’s clearly trying to hide it behind a strained grin.
“Bumblebee…” Shockwave starts, then stops. He truly does not know how to say this, to confess this. This is new territory devoid of logic and duty and order. It makes him feel vulnerable, as much as he loathes to admit it. “Bumblebee, we haven’t known each other for very long, but I…”
He pauses and tries to think of what Longarm would say, but that expresses these feelings in Shockwave’s spark. It’s hard to find a balance. “…enjoy spending time with you. It’s good, great even. And I’d like to do it more often.”
The cadet he plays fits well with those bumbling words.
Bumblebee’s expression shifts. The insecurity doesn’t leave but it does lessen. He looks less like he’s expecting… what? For Shockwave to tell him off? Declare him horribly unfit for his friendship? He looks less like that and more like he’s unsure of what this is about. Shockwave can work with that.
“What do you mean?” Bumblebee asks. “We already spend a lot of time together in training and we hang out in the ‘teen all the time.”
And Shockwave is suddenly flung back into his element. He knows exactly what he wants to say now, how he wants to say it.
“I meant something a little more… personal,” Shockwave says, adding the right kind of tone. He tilts his helm and shoots Bumblebee a kind and charming smile.
“…Personal?” Bumblebee’s optics scrunch as he tries to puzzle out what Shockwave—Longarm—could mean by that.
“Yes, personal,” Shockwave confirms with a nod. His smiles widens a bit as Bumblebee’s optics widen.
“Do you mean—but I—” Bumblebee stumbles over his words. It’s cute and, honestly, Shockwave wouldn’t mind causing that sort of reaction more often.
“I’d like us to be romantic partners, yes.”
The phrase maybe has a bit too much of Shockwave coloring every word, but he doesn’t care. He just wants Bumblebee to say yes. He wants to take his servo in his and kiss him and hold him close. He wants something other than the Cause for once. Megatron will understand.
“I—” Bumblebee is still stumbling over Shockwave’s word. He freezes, shutters his optics, and takes a deep vent. “… do you mean it?”
“Of course.”
“Then… yeah, I think… yeah, let’s do it,” Bumblebee says.
Bumblebee’s smile returns in full force and Shockwave can’t stop himself from grabbing his servo. Bumblebee looks surprised by the gesture but the grin never leaves. After a moment, he laughs. It’s a beautiful and joy filled sound.
“You gonna kiss me or not, hot shot?” Bumblebee asks, teasing.
Shockwave takes it for the invitation it is and leans forward. He carefully—oh so carefully—presses a chaste kiss to Bumblebee’s lips, a few seconds at most but special nonetheless.
When he pulls away, Bumblebee pulls him back.