Archive of Our Own

A record scratch stopped the song that flew through his speakers.

“You’re staring,” he simply had to address this. Especially since subtlety was rarely Hot Rod’s forte.

“Nuh uh,” Hot Rod however persisted.

“Uh, yuh uh.”

“Where did you even learn that from?”

“The best,” underneath his mask, Soundwave cracked a smile. Still, he had to firmly stand his ground, “Hot Rod. My dear. Stop staring.”

“Well, I can’t do it, until you tell me what you’re up to,” Hot Rod scoffed playfully, crossing his arms right on the flames at his chest. Oh, he could stare at those flames forever.

“Why do I have to be up to something?”

“Oh, I know you well enough to know when you’re up to something. You keep changing your tracks, doing everything for me, you’re looking at Laserbeak the way you always do when you’re spark sharing,” he started counting on his digits, as nonchalantly as possible. Then he got closer to Soundwave, his brow ridges rising, “C’mon, ‘Waves. No way you’d get it past me.”

The stare down of theirs was too intense. It would almost annoy Soundwave if it wasn’t for the fact that his sparkmate’s faceplate was the most beautiful he had ever seen. Especially up close, when every detail was heightened and enhanced. Not that he could win their little argument by speaking sonnets of his beauty, anyway. Not this time.

Unfortunately for him, the solar-cycles of his mystery and mystique were a thing of the past. At least when it came to Hot Rod. As they were getting closer and closer together, it was almost like a sharing deal. In the best way possible. Knowing Hot Rod more, made him become more sustained towards the behaviors of his. With time, Soundwave was knowledgeable to every detail that dictated his moods. He knew what made him tick. He knew what made him smile. He knew every corner of his spark, as he saw through it many times. Truly, it was the most wonderful spark Soundwave could have ever known.

However, it also meant that Hot Rod knew just as much about him. Especially in his case, so sensitive for every change that happened within them. Maybe that was what he had realized about love in the end. The vulnerability that once paralyzed him, now ended up being Soundwave’s biggest harbor. To share everything, to face the world with Hot Rod by his side. To never fear being seen when the one seeing you was the mech of optics vast and clear as the Earth’s seas.

It was also a huge pain in the aft when Hot Rod saw through him so clearly. Every move, every action, all put together into a realization, sometimes quicker than Soundwave himself could deduce. As comforting as it was, it also carried on some level of self-awareness of things that were present in his prompt life. Of course, as the master spy, Soundwave knew the actions of others always required his reaction. But it was always others being read, not himself.

Especially since Hot Rod knew him so damn well. And this time too, he was completely, utterly right.

Within his processors, the ideas had been boiling ever since the last mega-cycle. The plan had to be executed perfectly, down to the last detail. Every road explored, every eventually already made aware of, just to prevent any catastrophe. So much so, that even Laserbeak started to feel even more annoyed and chose the company of his second owner instead. Not that Soundwave was surprised, the barraging of emotions from the spark became rather overwhelming, even for himself.

Though, no matter what, Laserbeak agreed to the plan immediately. After all, Soundwave wasn’t the only one there who loved Hot Rod with all his spark – his… Their cassetticon quickly turned around to appreciate two caretakers. Especially since Hot Rod was the one who sang, smiled and made Soundwave’s spark gleam with joy. In all honesty, it was one of the reasons why Laserbeak tried to accomplish whatever Soundwave’s processors were thinking of.

Of course, those both were eventualities that Soundwave had explored. Easing Laserbeak was somewhat unchallenging, being bribed by energon treats. With Hot Rod? He had to make the right, extra effort. Somehow.

“Do you enjoy the toasts?” Soundwave asked nonchalantly, as if any prediction didn’t make his own energon freeze.

“A-ha! And now you’re deflecting!” his servo banged onto the table with force big enough to startle Laserbeak, quietly eating his cassetticon bird treats. Primus damn it, Hot Rod was way too good at this game. “I knew something was up. You’re not even trying the toasts you made! You’re so busted.”

He was, that was for sure. However, the second thing he definitely was, was stubborn as all Dark Spark.

“Maybe. And maybe I am not,” as the master deflector, Soundwave chuckled underneath his mask ever so lightly, “So you enjoy them?”

“You bet,” for a klik Hot Rod gave in and chewed another piece of the toast. “Aaand you already know it. You just want me to say it,” his derma then turned into a cheeky smile, optics half-closed. With his own servo, Hot Rod sustained the tip of his chin, as he leaned closer.

Oh, how much Soundwave tried not to kiss him right there and then. His perfectly put together thoughts and attitude melted like an energon marshmallow at the fireplace. Even if Soundwave preferred the cold, everyone got their boiling point. It just so happened his own came in the way of the blasted flames out of the exhaust pipes.

Instead, he got closer, also propping his servo at his chin, “Yes.”

“They’re phenomenal,” with his free servo, Hot Rod drew the line coming right at his jaw. “I don’t know how you’re doing it but they’re getting better and better. You know you’re spoiling me.”

“And you’re not complaining.”

“Pfftt, nahh, I could never,” quickly, he shook his helm ever so slightly, then looked at Soundwave again. “Not when I feel like the happiest mech alive, y’know?”

In a moment, Soundwave couldn’t be more glad not to have Laserbeak in his chest. As when the words got to him, his spark beat so loudly he was damn sure it was another way to startle the cassetticon.

Every little thing Hot Rod had said was simply the most beautiful song anyone had ever composed.

Truly the new normal of Soundwave’s was something he could never have predicted would have come true. Not during the vorns spent being locked up in the small rooms of surveillance, barely talking with any of his fellow Decepticons. Or the feeling of another hit Megatron left on his finish, just due to his mood.

Now it was completely different. After Megatron, after the Quintessons, after Soundblaster and even after Tarn, he could finally let out that prolonged ex-vent. Happiness was right at his servos. Of having his beloved sparkmate Hot Rod by his side and dearest companion Laserbeak by them both. The peace spread across Cybertron. Their apartment showed them the developing landscapes of healing Iacon City. Every solar-cycle, he and Hot Rod worked towards the brighter times for the new sparks, those who wouldn’t know war.

He was happy. He was safe. He was loved. The future was painted in shades of red.

Hence Soundwave had found happiness in even the most ordinary things. The smile on Hot Rod’s faceplate as he prepared them both daily energon portions was definitely one of those. Especially when paired with being showered with the highest praise for him.

Though sometimes Soundwave needed that extra something. His planner processors did not stop until the goal had been reached. One regarding Hot Rod’s happiness was of utmost importance. And well, Soundwave was always unorthodox in how he showed what played right in his own spark.

As if he himself had the ability to read processors, Hot Rod had just caught that little glimpse of wondering coming off of him, “Since I already told you I love your breakfast, c’mon, answer me now!” Wordlessly, Soundwave focused his optics on him. That was the confirmation already, “Why are you not eating? I’m just saying – you can’t do this to me, if you care so much about my eating habits. I’d be a bad sparkmate, if I didn’t check on you.”

Another step to achieve his victory – give Hot Rod just the smallest pieces of his thoughts, so he wouldn’t have agonized himself piecing it all together. Between all the actions, Soundwave took one of the prepared energon bites and fed Laserbeak, letting him nibble at his digits.

“I’m leaving earlier. I will pack my toast,” finally, Soundwave spoke within his calm but digitized tones. Though knowing Hot Rod, he prevented any more questions by turning sharper to him again, “Classified.”

“Oh, c’moonn, Soundwave!” whined Hot Rod, trying to get his attention back. “That’s not fair.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not.”

“I am not.”

To which Hot Rod laughed earnestly. Always the sweetest in any galaxy.

Even if Soundwave would be ready to simply take his food and depart already, he could still feel his sparkmate’s stare. Though not as suspicious as it was before. No, this stare in particular was much softer, much more playful. In the corners of his optics, he could see a smile curling up at his derma. Almost as if he was ready to pounce again, another approach already shaping up in his processors.

Underneath his mask, a bigger smile graced Soundwave’s features at the familiarity of his own measurements. Just as a certain someone else did for him. Even with the confusion spreading from Laserbeak’s spark and stare, he couldn’t help but to find joy within those little things. With a mech as grand as his dear Hot Rod every detail counted. And he loved all those things more than any of his songs could portray.

And so Hot Rod persisted within his curiosity, “Can’t you reveal even a bit to me?”

“No.”

His expression dropped. Though Soundwave already knew there was no way he could give up that easily, “How about you reveal two truths about this, huh?”

Now that was a bit more plausible way for himself to approach this, Soundwave had remarked in his processors, as his helm nodded ever so slightly. In a moment, he said, “I won’t be alone in this.”

“And you won’t tell me who’s joining you,” Hot Rod gave him a half smile, nudging his side.

“No,” Soundwave still remained in his mystique. Afraid of the very real potential of spilling his spark onto him, another deflection seemed necessary. Hence right after saying so, he stood up trying to pack up his breakfast into a little bag.

“Obviously, riiightt,” playfully Hot Rod rolled his optics, then tapped on the counter. Catching onto what was going on, his sight then followed Soundwave's carefully calculated pede-steps. “What about the second one? You promised me two and you can’t back down.”

With one movement, Soundwave closed the bag. An idea already emerged crystal energon clear. One deviously perfect crescendo to him straying away from revealing any more details. Wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease his sparkmate just a little, right?

“It is about you.”

“About?”

“I wasn’t clear,” carefully and decisively, Soundwave elucidated. “For you, Hot Rod.”

Just as so, he could already see Hot Rod’s systems overdriving. A victory sweeter than any energon treat. With that sense of that upper servo, a victorious melody played right from Soundwave’s speakers. Sometimes it was just too damn easy.

“Eat everything,” he then remarked, tipping his helm slightly onto the way of the plate with several bites of energon toast left.

A certain spike of embarrassment ran through Hot Rod’s chassis, as he turned around to finish. Sometimes it was all that he needed to do to catch his sparkmate’s attention. As Hot Rod’s focus could wind down quickly, often during the solar-cycles, he forgot necessary things. Sometimes even pushed himself to the moments when his energy ran incredibly and noticeably low. Hence Soundwave always made sure to check on him, so he took more care of himself.

Maybe it couldn’t happen immediately but Soundwave could very clearly notice a change within him. Not only under his watchful optics but from Hot Rod himself too. And just like that, his habits changed, swaying to the blue tunes that overwhelmed their shared apartment.

As Soundwave prepared himself for leaving, he caught a particular sight. With Laserbeak bracing himself for another solar-cycle by his side, Hot Rod’s digits moved closer to him, hoping to catch the goodbye. As the cassetticon stepped closer, Hot Rod then scratched the underside of his beak. In return, Laserbeak cawed softly and nuzzled back to his cheek.

A small laugh escaped Hot Rod’s vocalizer, “Alright, alright! Have a good one, Laserbeak. You know I’ll miss you.”

Warmth spread all across Soundwave’s chassis, not knowing if it was him or actually Laserbeak. The sincerity that spilled from Hot Rod never ceased to amaze him. He lived loudly and proudly, never once making anyone second guess what his intentions were. Spreading kindness and making sure everyone was happy, even in the smallest ways. Towards Laserbeak, he always showed appreciation and care. And Soundwave’s spark never doubted that his love was truer than any word spoken.

That was one of the reasons for his plan. Each klik Hot Rod reminded him of all the best reasons he was still there.

With another small friendly nibble at Hot Rod side, Laserbeak took flight. At this action, Soundwave’s chest port opened, letting the cassetticon take his place snugly. Another way to make sure Laserbeak was as safe as he possibly could. Right by his own spark chamber.

Then it was time for another goodbye for the solar-cycle. Standing proudly, Soundwave observed Hot Rod’s steady pede-steps in his direction. All while that red finish of his glistened in the most beautiful color.

“Don’t overthink,” Soundwave said firmly, crossing the arms on his chest port.

“Or what? What are you planning to do then?” Hot Rod cocked his helm playfully, approaching his side a little too quickly. Patience wasn’t exactly his strongest suit but Soundwave never minded. There was the undeniable charm to the fast-pace he added to that life of his.

“I will have to help you think of something else,” his servos caught his waist, ghosting around the finish in his middle. All while Hot Rod’s servos wandered off onto his shoulder pads, soft touches across them.

“Yeah? Like what?” Saying so nonchalantly, Hot Rod then focused on his jawline. Their chassis close together, heat coming off of him already stirring up all of Soundwave’s processors. “Are kisses on the table?”

To which, he didn’t fully answer. Only nodded his helm and retracted his battle mask. And in return, Hot Rod gave him a soft grin. Just one more pull and his own derma embraced his.

The kisses they shared right at the start of their work were one of his absolute favorites. Dermas softly moved in their own rhythm, his servos dancing around Hot Rod’s frame. Every little touch was like an ignition point. Soundwave himself had been used to lower temperatures, one of his prime features being his excellent cooling system. At first, Hot Rod’s fast warming chassis started as something foreign. Though never seen as a problem, his processors then united the sensation of the pleasant heat with his lover. It shouldn’t come as a surprise for Hot Rod. After all, he was made aware just how much Soundwave loved to play with fire.

As they drew back, Soundwave still felt that lingering heat right on his derma. Everything about him was warm, sweet, fiery. Primus, how wonderful kisser Hot Rod was, how fantastic it was to hold him.

Yet in a moment, Soundwave enforced his battle mask. His own faceplate wasn’t for anyone ordinary to see. Though, Hot Rod was far from ordinary.

Before he could go off, he whispered to Hot Rod again, “Don’t worry.”

“I promise I won’t,” in a sort of sigh of defeat, Hot Rod showed his servos defensively.

Still holding him close, Soundwave felt his whole frame sway backwards. Catching the moment of Hot Rod swaying back almost in disapproval, he came closer to his audio processors. Then whispering low, he said directly to them, “I will kiss you more when I’m back.”

“I’m holding onto it,” though trying to remain in place, he felt his chassis just slightly shiver within those touches. Once more, Hot Rod’s servo cupped the side of his faceplate. Immediately then, he pressed a small kiss onto his face mask. “See ya, Speaker.”

Soundwave nodded. Without another word, he stormed off to meet his self-made destiny.

Stealth was his most sure way of being as inconspicuous as possible.

Not to mention, be imperceptible for the usual mech. Soundwave’s role as the Decepticon spy was always followed by thousands of instructions of simply becoming akin to invincible. The less mechs could predict Soundwave appearing or predicting his presence the better. Why he had to do it, he truly didn’t know. Especially with Skywarp taking the title of the most unpredictable Decepticon, all thanks to her teleporting powers. But with Soundwave it was more of the control rather than a surprise. Only he was the master of what others should think of him. There was no better exploit of it than fear.

Old habits truly did go offline in the worst way.

As the habits clung onto him like a rust plague, Soundwave still hid within the darkened alleys of Iacon City, ready to strike down. The shadows overwhelmed his features, to the point that the only visible thing was his glowing visor. Taking several heavy stomps forward, with one click, he let out Laserbeak. That was what he did best, scouring the areas, making sure they were safe for both of them and seeing what Soundwave’s optics failed to experience. Not to mention, and Soundwave noted this with utmost pride, he was the cutest cassetticon. Obviously.

Taking flight forward, Laserbeak moved as silently as he possibly could, making way for both of them. Just several kliks of operation and Soundwave could also put two and two together. Hence with a more confident step he went forward, the echo of his heavy pedes spreading as little as he could help it.

Just like old times, Soundwave reminisced. Field missions were few and far between, as Megatron often disregarded his presence at the battlefield. Saying things like “you’re better as our secret weapon” or “just send Laserbeak instead”. Any attempt at insubordination could end terribly for him. But Soundwave’s spark screamed back at any of the unnecessary rules he was given. At least after every punch he had to endure from Megatron, he was kind enough to say that Soundwave was right. Then the circle began again.

Either way, it was the perfect plan. Even with his heavier steps, he still managed to make an impression. Laserbeak’s scourings revealed that the target was in place. All they now needed was for Laserbeak to return so he could–

“You know I know you’re here, right?”

She waited for him with crossed arms on her chest. And with almost a crossed expression.

Quickly enough, Soundwave stopped his endeavors and simply revealed himself, “Windblade.”

“Yes. That’s me,” she sighed, still not too happy seeing him. “I think you could skip the quirks and just get to the point.”

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure of the reason why Windblade was his choice for this exact endeavor. They weren’t exactly friendly and a part of him wanted to at least scare her off by turning up his favorite metal band from Caminus. However, he was there for a mission and Windblade might have not known it yet but so was she.

Soundwave took a step further, towering over her slim yet petite frame. She didn’t budge.

“Teach me how to solar surf.”

Windblade’s optics blinked two times, “Uhh, what?”

“I’ve already said,” Soundwave persisted with a sharper tone. “Teach me how to surf on solar waves.”

“As much as you know I would love to,” Windblade answered, sarcasm dripping from her glossa. “I don’t know how to do it. You’re better off asking Bumblebee.”

Underneath his mask, Soundwave rolled his optics. Yes, he expected such an answer. Yes, Bumblebee was the one who truly knew how to surf. In all honesty, putting himself miles away from the bug was not for himself but for Hot Rod’s sake.

“I hate him,” was a much quicker answer than one of promising to tear him apart limb from limb, if he ever so much as ex-vented in his direction. Of course, Soundwave was smarter than to acknowledge all that in front of someone like Windblade.

“Okay… Why from me?”

Another easy enough answer, “You won’t gossip about this.”

“Who says I won’t, though? Just one word and I can tell it to Arcee. Then the whole Cybertron will know,” oh, she knew how to play her cards a bit too well. At least that impressed Soundwave enough.

Hence once more, Soundwave needed a different tactic. With his towering self, he let his cannon heat up exponentially while signalizing Laserbeak to sit right at his arm. As he landed, both his and Soundwave’s optics stared down at Windblade. He couldn’t help but smile underneath his mask. Intimidation into submission at its finest.

“You won’t.”

Oh. Again.

Trying to hide her befuddlement, Windblade cleared her vocalizer, “…Alright. But that still leaves out a question – why do you even want to do this?”

Right. Then came the actual hard part of his whole ordeal.

Falling silent, Soundwave came back to the state of his, right after waking up. Trying to be inconspicuous in front of someone like Windblade was easy. Yet hiding himself in front of someone who had known him as perfectly as Hot Rod was one of the taller orders. Hence he tried to leave their apartment fast. Even coming from Laserbeak’s spark he could feel confusion and he was the only one who knew his plans’ details.

So he stood there, measuring Windblade with his optics. There were many things he was thankful for and one definitely had to be the battle mask that suppressed his features. Safe from any unnecessarily done expressions that could reveal more than he had ever wanted. Everything Soundwave did had to be calculated. His faceplate, while exposed, for the most part wasn’t.

At least, his measured suspicion that Windblade was the best for this task seemed to be correct. No matter how many of his tactics Soundwave had used, Windblade hadn’t yielded. Instead, she stood firmer on the ground, still asking and still trying to guess if his intentions were right. He couldn’t lie, that truly did impress him.

Still, their stare contest had to come to an end one way or the other. With coming to her, Soundwave already put himself in the losing position. So he had to put that pride back into his chest port and loosen his shoulder pads.

“I want to surprise Hot Rod.”

Suddenly, Windblade’s features softened. With widened optics, her shoulder pads dropped at the sound of his voice. And as her derma curled up in a small smile, everything suggested that she was… Happy.

Just this one simple reaction made Soundwave’s processors spin in confusion. Wait, did he say something wrong? Or in the wrong way? Once or twice, he had heard from Shadow Striker or Perceptor that whenever he said Hot Rod’s name his vocalizer changed exponentially. Almost as if his exact name was spoken with utmost care, as if it was the perfect melody he wanted to relish in. However, everything else Soundwave said was most likely kept in his firm tone. He wasn’t there to coax Windblade. He was going to get what he had wanted.

Did she really find it… Sweet?

“Oh. Soundwave,” she said, her smile growing. “If that’s all you wanted, why didn’t you just say so?”

Thousands of reasons, really. As direct as Soundwave was, it almost never seemed to be regarding anything, well, positive. His harshness came naturally, as many residents of the Nemesis were aware of the various things that were hated by him. Yet when it came to things he was fond of, those were largely left unspoken. Maybe that was also the reason why it took him as long as the online or offline situation to reveal what he had felt for Hot Rod.

Truly the words and especially those of praise didn’t seem to be his forte. Often twisted, misinterpreted or downright dismissed. Actions however always came as they were. Pure, undisturbed, the window to who he was. And there was no one else he wanted to know about his emotions. He loved Hot Rod – as simple as that. If actions were the most sure way he could tell him so, so be it.

Not to mention the fact that even if she was one of Hot Rod’s closest friends, Soundwave never got the impression that she truly liked him. Everything suggested that Windblade, though happy about her friend’s relationship, preferred to stay away from a former Decepticon of his caliber. Maybe just observe and respect him from afar. No need to become buddies.

Frankly, even if Soundwave hated to admit it, something about her screamed danger. One thing was Soundwave’s ability to detect sparks and the emotions that overwhelmed them. But Windblade’s cityspeaker abilities seemed completely out of the question. To access someone’s mind so freely and learn all about their memories, wants, needs, hopes and dreams… Suddenly his waves didn’t seem any bit invasive.

Of course, the storm in his processors was better left unspoken. Hence Soundwave didn’t budge, “Maybe I didn’t want to reveal this to you.”

“Fine. But seriously, it was better to ask Bee for help,” stepping back a little, she tapped her pointing digit right at the edge of her chin. “I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, I can call him even now.” Saying so, Windblade’s arm glowed, revealing a screen with her contacts on it. Swiftly, she started looking through it, hoping to find her friend’s personal hotlink.

Even with his faceplate sheathed everyone could feel just how tired of it Soundwave was. A split klik glance to Laserbeak and at least he knew his cassetticon was on his side. With a discreet wave of his helm, Soundwave commanded Laserbeak to take flight. The cassetticon obliged and soon enough brought him a piece of yellow scrap metal. To congratulate him on a quick action, with his free servo he scratched Laserbeak’s chin. Much to happiness on his, in Hot Rod’s words, adorable little beak.

And much to Windblade’s puzzlement, “What are you…”

Still wordlessly, Soundwave took the piece of the yellow scrap right before her faceplate. Then with an ease, he crushed  the little piece as it was. The dust bits of torn metal danced into the wind. As Windblade watched it without an ounce of amusement.

“Duly noted, Soundwave,” her brow ridge raised up and her arms once more crossed right onto her chest. “I still warn you, I barely know how to do it. There might be a learning curve for both of us.”

That was the moment she herself caught Soundwave off guard. Though his stance remained neutral, his circuits started to whirr again, “So you agree.”

“Sure. I didn’t have any plans besides this. I don’t think I needed to help with any construction sites or training, or even communication work,” Windblade shrugged, most likely mentally checking her own timetable. “I’m free so if you want to, we can start right away.”

With a one surprised look shared with Laserbeak, suddenly Soundwave couldn’t comprehend  a single one of her words. It was obvious that the unpredictability which followed every Autobot was often too much for him to grasp. When it was Hot Rod, he found it endearing. When it was Optimus, he found it impressive. And when it was Windblade he simply found it perplexing.

Still, he shouldn’t complain, should he? He got what he came there for, no matter how many questions it had raised in the meantime. Calling back Laserbeak to his chest port, Soundwave then fixed his tensed, yet confident stance. Show no weaknesses, his processors pleaded.

“You don’t have anything more to say?” he asked, almost as a last ditch… Suggestion.

“Hmm… Nope. Let’s catch some waves or whatever they’d say,” yet Windblade remained nonchalant in her actions.

Nothing more to add. Soundwave nodded, “Let’s do this.”

“Left. Right. Left. Firm pedes. Look before yourself. Firmer. Straighten your shoulder pads.”

With enough force, Soundwave could probably make an impact so big that it would create a crater beneath his pedes. Actually, it might even be the right amount of force for Windblade to be knocked down from her own platform. But no, he had to stay focused. Instead of weaving another plan, he grinded his denta so much that the friction already seemed to create a crater in his own mouth.

He remained within his way too telling silence, trying to follow her directions. Though every single part of this seemed idiotic. Thankfully, Soundwave had requested they’d be far away from… Anything, really. It had been a very long while since he’d felt that pathetic.

“Left. Left. Keep your arms steady. Bend your knees,” Windblade continued her directions.

Another grumble beneath his mask.

“I’m gonna act as if I didn’t hear this,” she ex-vented, her face still looking unimpressed. “Focus. Left.”

“I am focused.”

“Oh, yes? But do you even listen to me?” the lack of responsiveness turned into almost something like annoyance.

“I do. That is my thing,” sharply, Soundwave muttered those exact words. Almost as if the venom already started spilling at the side of his battle mask.

Whether she intended this or not, that one hit the spot a bit too much. Too many times hearing things from Megatron did that to a ‘con, no matter how sustainable. And Soundwave was exactly the one to stand by his principles, no matter what reaction they had been given.

At the back of his processors was the worst sound he’d heard, Shockwave’s constant complaining about his insubordination. The mega-cycles and vorns he had spent simply ruined the flow of his work, either by sound blasts or messing his equipment. It didn’t do much but it did piss him off immensely. Sometimes Soundwave’s only regret was that he himself wasn’t the one who silenced the one-optic freak forever.

Could he offline… No, no, he couldn’t. First, Hot Rod would most likely deactivate him himself afterwards. And Windblade would find a way to summon a Titan or read his mind beforehand and abolish his plans. It didn’t take much for him to calculate that it was between a bad and a worse choice.

Was Soundwave stubborn and fierce enough to try? Yes. Did he find Windblade scary? He’d rather not comment on this.

“You’re doing this but you’re not exactly thinking of this,” Windblade shook her helm. “Soundwave, it’s not about just doing it, it’s about following my steps and then repeating them precisely, not all over the place.”

Oh, that was enough. In a moment, Soundwave straightened his back and went right at Windblade’s side again. As his whole frame tensed in his actions, the music he put on to destress got louder and angrier.

However, Windblade didn’t budge. Her arms crossed at her chest, standing her ground. He couldn’t lie if Windblade wasn’t currently the most out of processors insufferable femme to him, he’d almost be impressed.

“What? Are you gonna stare at me till I’m scared or do you actually want to do something?”

Well. Staring usually worked. But Windblade seemed to be much more akin to those tactics. Or she actually read his processors. Damn mind readers.

“This is useless. You aren’t teaching me a single thing,” he scoffed, tightening his already clenched servos.

“Soundwave, you came to me yourself to get that help,” her brow ridges furrowed, jet engines on her wings spun uncontrollably. “Do you wanna do this or would you rather throw a tantrum at me?”

The way in which she told him so, that careless expression on her, all of this was the storm that activated his tsunami. There was no way Soundwave would let her mock him like that. Just asking Windblade to teach him this solar surfing technique was embarrassing and degrading enough but this? This was crossing all of the lines. It was time for the flood to control the gale.

“I will do it my way,” in return, Soundwave kept on towering before her, hoping that the massive Decepticon height of his was finally made for something.

Yet, no, Windblade remained unphased. She simply looked around and shrugged, “Actually? Be my guest. I’ll watch.”

Huh. Easy come.

“You will.”

Before going off his speakers spiked up exponentially. Not enough to pose any danger but enough to cause a certain kind of pain to the audio processors. In the corners of his optics, he could see Windblade flinching ever so slightly.

Chuckling a little, he then turned the song around to one of his pumping up tracks. One loud enough for himself to feel his spark beating and the energon flow within his lines. Another heavier ex-vent escaped his vocalizer. Soundwave approached the board he provided himself with beforehand and at the one pede stomp, he caught it into his servo. Then once more with just one click he released Laserbeak from his chest port, as Soundwave was still making his own way to the edge of the building. One circle around him and the cassetticon landed on his arm just as he stopped moving. He couldn’t help but smile to himself – everything was right at its place.

Looking into the sky, Soundwave’s optics caught the right moment. That particular solar-cycle, the solar waves came and went in particular breems or even kiliks. All focused before himself, the only thing to do was just to catch the right one. Then an idea came into his processors. An idea so brilliant and so impressive, Windblade would never try to question his skills ever again.

Right at his spark, he knew Laserbeak caught his drift too. All needed was the leap of faith.

Optics on the prize. Board on the ground, easy step on it. One step back. Engines at ready. Laserbeak right by his side, waiting for him to join in the air. One step forward. Revving of the blast, just at his audio processors. Then the needed last step. Launched towards the winds.

A micro-klik later, Soundwave felt the familiar warmth right at his finish. Maybe that was why Hot Rod developed such a liking for surfing. After all, it felt just as the embrace of his. Winds swayed, the board blasted into the air. Every part of Soundwave’s chassis felt as light as a cassetticon. The pede of his kicked the board once more, to launch him higher. Freedom right at his digittips.

King of the waves. No matter which kind.

Almost in slow motion, everything that Soundwave picked on intensified with each moment. The board let him go higher. The feel of the waves. The pedes were not touching neither the board nor the ground. Laserbeak’s surprise and admiration right by his spark. Windblade’s puzzlement. The overwhelming sensation. Anything he wanted, his own for the taking. In his processors, he already could see the happiness on Hot Rod’s faceplate and tight grip of his servo on his own.

Then it all came crashing down. Quite literally.

The board slipped by his pedes, not even allowing a single time of security. Solar winds not as strong as he had suspected let go of his whole self. The squawk of Laserbeak, one of shock and helplessness. Oh, and his whole chassis. Plummeting and crashing right onto the ground, faceplate down. And then the pain. One that none of his songs could remedy.

Another sound entered his space. Soundwave didn’t even need to look up.

“It didn’t exactly work out, huh?” Windblade probably bent her frame a little just to meet his point of view.

After all this, Soundwave didn’t budge, didn’t move at all. The certain kind of speechlessness and chagrin just so happened to take every other feeling he had. Maybe except for Laserbeak landing at the tip of his helm and then pecking right at it. Just to ease his processors, Soundwave sent him a reassurance right by his spark. But damn, wasn’t that… Something he’d rather not repeat.

And not speak of. Ever.

“What are you standing here for?” muffled voice of Soundwave’s rang. And why won’t you help me, he concluded in his mind. No, definitely he couldn’t say that one out loud.

“I want to see you like this for a bit longer.”

“Windblade.”

“No,” she grinned, changing the weight of her chassis from one leg to the other. “I think I need just a klik more.”

“Windblade.”

Oh, she better do this that instant or else he would–

“Okay, show’s over, get up,” Windblade exchanged her servo right back at him. One which Soundwave only barely spared a look for. Then without giving her a single bit of satisfaction, he got up, all by his strength. Seeing just so, once more Windblade rolled her own optics, “What’s gotten into you? We can try again, c’mon, I’ll show you.”

As he stood up, everything in Soundwave’s processors told him one thing. He definitely didn’t need another portion of mockery and embarrassment from her. No need to play dumb and humiliate himself, there were better ways to achieve all this. Better run away before she caught any piece of the music sheet in his mind. When she had no reason to ever know how to read notes.

After all, wasn’t that just another point to proving what he had been almost certain of. The fact that the change was barely anything anyone wanted to reach out for. With Laserbeak sitting firmly on his arm, he went forward.

“You’re gonna go off just like this? Great going, Soundwave, I’m sure it’ll teach you a lot,” Windblade backhanded, even if his shoulder was colder than usual. “I don’t know what Hot Rod sees in you.”

That one sentence was enough. All what was needed for Soundwave to stop for a klik and feel every bit of his chassis let go. Suddenly, there was no anger within him – just solemnity.

Sparing a look right at Laserbeak’s side, he knew he had felt it too. The indescribable feeling right at his spark, spilling back to his cassetticon companion. Every bit of him wanted to let go. Yet au contraire, he could only feel anger coming from Laserbeak. Even noticing how he readied himself to go forward and attack Windblade back. Hence with his servo, Soundwave’s digit caressed the top of Laserbeak’s head. Just to calm him down, as he always did.

It is not worth it, he wanted to say but instead a clear message appeared by his spark. Immediately, Laserbeak understood. His wings relaxed, as he looked back at Soundwave, pure sadness in his little optics. Soundwave’s shoulder pads dropped.

Why was there sadness and not anger? Every moment like this, every bit of energon within him was ready to boil up and show who was actually right. He would do it, he wanted to do it. He wanted Windblade to pay the price on her helm. But instead, the coldness of solitude overwhelmed him once more.

Only because he knew.

With a quick pede-step, he turned around, still towering over Windblade. Even if he could see her almost reaching for her famed sword, he didn’t want to fight. Not that time. Instead, he muttered, still too sharply, “I don’t know either.”

And he straightened his back. Whatever she wanted to say in return didn’t faze him anymore.

That was when Windblade’s optics softened, “Soundwave… What’s the reason?”

“Why don’t you learn it yourself?” almost with contempt, Soundwave pushed. “You’re a cityspeaker. Access my mind and get it over with.”

“Well, you’re a sparkreader,” with a certain kind of aversion, she answered. “You can do the same.”

A wave of confusion dawned back on Soundwave. But well, it was always an open invitation. Hence he nodded his helm and started seeing what the point of hers even was. All while his processors involuntarily told her the story he wanted to omit in front of her.

First thing was obvious – Windblade truly didn’t feel almost a single positive thing regarding him. Not that Soundwave expected anything else, it was even a nice kind of affirmation. But the more he focused on her, the more he had learnt. Windblade was candid, it showed right with just how much of an open book she was. She fought for the good, loved her friends and didn’t tolerate any kind of boastful nature that led to destruction.

However, he knew that Windblade knew exactly what he was looking for. Her focus shifted and within a kilik, Soundwave saw Hot Rod, just as he was. The overwhelming feeling Windblade had for him, the warmness she felt whenever she thought of him. The love she had given him was completely different than the one Soundwave felt. Via Windblade’s spark, he could see that Hot Rod seemed almost like her little brother. One she wanted to protect and care for. Give the best to him.

The images before his optics shifted exponentially. He knew what the culprit of it was, since his thoughts hadn’t been able to stop running, Windblade also showed just a bit of herself he wasn’t aware of. A certain kind of loneliness and doubt, one Soundwave was used to. The feeling that followed her like a shadow, right after she left Caminus and settled in on Cybertron. The kind of uncertainty and feeling like she hadn’t quite fit in.

Soundwave knew this a bit too well. Even as someone who had been living in Iacon City ever since he was forged.

In a cycle, Soundwave broke away from the reading. There was too much to learn, things he didn’t want to know of Windblade. Yet then as he saw her, she wasn’t the same compliant Autobot. Maybe she herself didn’t see the Decepticon in Soundwave, albeit it had to be with a certain kind of trouble. Images changed in his optics way too rapidly, once settling back onto reality. Before his optics was a righteous femme who had always wanted to fight towards what was important. And, well… One who also wanted Hot Rod to lead the happiest life. At least then there were two things they would have agreed upon.

He stood his ground, still unsure if he should even try. All while within Windblade, he could see the perplexity already painted on her features.

“I had no idea…” she started, her brow ridges drawing together.

“Me neither,” he answered. With a heavier chassis, he sat down by the edge, observing the clouds going through the skies. As he sometimes wished he’d reach right by them.

Almost wordlessly, Windblade sat right beside him. Seeing the same skies, yet probably in different colors. As he sat statically on the ground, he couldn’t help but to steal a glance towards Windblade’s wings, gently moving with the wind. If he had wings, would he learn how to use them? Even then, Soundwave barely used his alt mode. Would it be different in other circumstances? Did Windblade take a chance he himself didn’t want?

The questions kept piling up but he didn’t know. He didn’t even know the color of Caminus’ sky.

“Spare me the clichés,” Soundwave commended, ex-venting heavily. “I just want the truth.”

“You care about… All this. And especially about Hot Rod,” she commented, not even sparing him a single look.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to bore you till the deactivation but I know how you feel.”

Firmly he said, “Caminus.”

“Yes. That. There is no need to say this, you know how it feels when you’re on your own in the new world,” he could see Windblade trying to look at him within the corner of her optics. So he nodded, “But that is not the point. I also once had someone I wanted to have by my side. Even if she was a Decepticon, during the war… Anyways. I know you try.”

The revelation of such stunned Soundwave enough. Only one femme came to his mind. He dared not to speak her name, especially since Windblade probably already read it within the music notes of his processors. In return, she simply nodded. The puzzle pieces came together faster than he had realized. He had to focus on anything else.

“Trying is not succeeding,” Soundwave took his stance.

“Why does it always have to be a success?” Windblade’s tone was suddenly cheerier.

“You know why.”

Another longer ex-vent. Windblade tried again, “You don’t need me to sound like Optimus–“

“No.”

“But everyone deserves a chance. Even the one you give yourself,” within her words, he could truly see the effort. Just where would it take her. “Hot Rod tried time and time again in more ways than I can count. He wouldn’t want you to give up. Especially on yourself.”

Usually, the anger would seep into his chassis at those words. But this time… Instead, he saw Hot Rod. All within his frankly infectious stubbornness, optimism and belief in anything that was fair. How he had always given him a chance. How he had never stopped until Soundwave was safe and sound. How he chose him above all else.

Loyalty often cursed Soundwave to throw him in the shackles of that blind belief. Especially when it was synonymous with the Decepticons, feeling Megatron’s wrath and letting it be. With Hot Rod however his spark was always in the color of solid gold. Making sure that tomorrow would be as bright as his smile.

There was a reminder why Soundwave did all that in the first place. Hence he couldn’t help but to turn to Windblade again.

“He wouldn’t,” with a certain kind of softness only reserved for talking about Hot Rod, he had to admit it. “We should try again. I will listen and try not to be so. Harsh.”

“That’s great to hear! I’ll do my best not to force anything. Just promise to be diligent,” with her wings straightening up, Windblade threw him an understanding smile.

Soundwave nodded, “You have my word.”

Truly, there was still a certain kind of distance he had for the past Autobots. The trust he had in himself couldn’t be given to most of them, as Soundwave still questioned most of the things either Bumblebee or someone like Ironhide had said. Not to mention, he couldn’t truly say that he liked Windblade. However, seeing into her spark, he knew her intentions were true. Which also translated to her actions, something that Soundwave often failed to see within the Autobots. Yet Windblade spread the truth. Not the one of the pretend type, like lots of them did.

The sky still shined in the colors of the noon sun. Within those thoughts, Windblade nudged him again.

“Hey. I think you should message Hot Rod to tell him when he can show up today.”

“Do you think I can learn it in such a time?” confusion spread across him.

“If you put your mind to it,” comfortably laying in the direction of the sun, Windblade closed her optics. “And your goal was connected to him, first and foremost. I saw it in your processors.”

Wasn’t that the biggest truth. Hot Rod’s smile burning brighter than the lightest spark was worth more than anything. There was the reason, the culprit to go forward. In a moment, Soundwave opened the hotlink they shared.

Soundwave
can you come by to the skyscrapers after work.

Hot Rod
Sure thing! Any occasion?

Soundwave
a surprise.

Hot Rod
Then I can’t wait :3

Soundwave
are you bored at work.

Hot Rod
Haha u know me ;P
Hard 2 focus

Soundwave
let me help.

Just like that within their hotlink, Soundwave broadcasted a playlist of songs he knew would make Hot Rod stay in place. After a while they had learnt it was the best way to keep him grounded and concentrated. Especially as Soundwave loved it too. When another song started playing, Soundwave got another buzz signalizing a message.

Hot Rod
<3333

No other words needed.

Coming back to reality, he could sense something had changed. Energy within his digittips, belief in the other. Maybe a weird kind of humility too, as he looked at the vast skies that were outside his reach. With just one click, he had released Laserbeak from his chest port. Confused at first, Laserbeak immediately sensed what was the reason. Before they both knew it, he soared within the skies.

And the tranquility washed upon him. In his audio processors he had heard Windblade ex-venting softly, bending her back and putting her servos on her chin, observing Laserbeak further, “You really love him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” another wave of solemnity. This time a comforting one.

“I meant both of them. I saw it in your processors.”

“I know. And I meant that,” Soundwave confirmed, feeling the happiness spreading through him. No matter the source. “I know you mean well. I saw it in your spark.”

Windblade smiled lightly, “So, what. We have a deal?”

“A deal. Sure.”

He exchanged servos. Without a second thought, Windblade shook it vigorously. For once, it wasn’t a chirograph.

“Great! It’s probably a bad time to mention this but actually, my friend Chromia is now training for the Iaconian triathlon. You should’ve asked her for help instead,” she said oh so nonchalantly.

Hmm… Chromia… They definitely struck up some conversations during the Quintesson invasion. Strong, stoic and focused. Definitely someone he would get along with exceptionally.

Behind his mask, Soundwave blinked, “What.”

“Didn’t you know? One of the competitions is solar surfing.”

“And you didn’t tell me,” he deadpanned.

“You asked me first,” ever so slightly, Windblade shrugged. “And honestly – Soundwave. Answer this one yourself.”

Soundwave looked at her blankly, “You’re fucking with me.”

“Pretty much, yes,” thinking for a klik, Windblade nodded and then stood up. “So! Are we going?”

Almost vacantly, Soundwave stood up and followed her suit. Then blasted the heaviest song he had saved, full volume back at her. Accompanied with his snicker.

With an impressive arch, Laserbeak returned to sit on his arm.

Every time he did so, he had always landed in the most perfect way possible. In his spark, Soundwave knew the message he wanted to tell him. Though it didn’t stop Laserbeak from letting out a squawk, trying to get his attention. Even more so, as his little cassetticon legs stomped around and his neck outstretched enough that Soundwave didn’t have a single other choice but to give him pets. Not that he would ever deny him such. If anyone had exposed his faceplate, the only thing to see would be Soundwave’s grin.

Curious, Windblade took a step forward to them, swaying her frame in place, “Does he always do that?”

“Almost,” Soundwave let out a soft chuckle. “He is a showoff.”

Maybe Windblade had reacted further to such. Yet, Soundwave didn’t spare her much looks. Especially since nervousness ran within his energon lines, at the very close meeting. As well as Laserbeak’s tries to make him happier and calmer. All of this should be enough for his processors to maybe stop running at the speed of sound for just a micro-klik. “Should” being the key word.

“So? Did Laserbeak see him?” she persisted, looking at them both with puzzlement on her features. At least, Soundwave knew she didn’t attempt to read either of their minds.

“Not yet. He only sensed that he’s getting closer.”

“Well then, lemme look for him too!” Windblade suggested, much to both Soundwave and Laserbeak sending her confused stares. “You still need to meet him halfway and it’s better if Laserbeak is next to me. Remember how much you wanted to surprise him?”

Truly, Windblade drove a hard bargain. One especially hard to pass out on. Sharing one more look back at Laserbeak, he knew they both were thinking of the exact same thing. Even if that made him even more so nervous.

Still, Soundwave had to agree. Just this one feeling right at the spark was enough to set Laserbeak back into the air. Cue card had been given.

“Go,” he said to the cassetticon, then turned to face Windblade. “Both of you.”

Wordlessly, Windblade nodded. With a decisive motion, she transformed to a jet, her wings spreading and the turbines spinning in circles. Just as Soundwave was sure everything within his plan was in motion, he turned around to go back to the solar surfboard.

Yet just one more distraction had taken him away from it.

“Soundwave!” he had heard Windblade’s vocalizer. Immediately, he looked up, seeing her ready to soar away. “Good luck out there. Knock yourself out. And,” she flew closer to him and accented in a harsher tone. “Treat Hot Rod well. Or else.”

Before Soundwave could answer, she was already going further and further away. The only thing he had felt was the fleeting fear coming from Laserbeak. He really needed to get him those extra energon treats as a health hazard compensation.

Trying to focus on anything else, Soundwave approached the board currently laying flatly on the ground. They’ve been at it for the whole entire solar-cycle, there was no way it wouldn’t be a success. Somewhat automatically, he tied up the special harness right above his pede. As if it already had become his second nature.

The plan was in motion, no coming back now. Being so firm and focused all his lifespan, it almost seemed foreign to act in such a way. In his so-called career, Soundwave had done much dumber and much more reckless things. So why did he feel that uncertain right then?

Then another thought appeared in his head. One of warmth and security. Of impulsiveness and the brightest booming laughter there possibly was. Of the biggest, kindest spark, the rebel attitude and leadership right within him. He was doing it all for Hot Rod. Even just a mere glimpse of his smile would make it all so worth it.

Determined to oblivion, Soundwave’s arms reached the solar wind trail in the air. His pedes rushed at the edge, hoping to gain enough momentum for his out of the processors plan. And with optics closed, he made that one leap of faith he was begging for.

He succeeded. There was no other way around it.

Taking that board into his servo, Soundwave’s processors already tried to play back all the tips that Windblade had given him the whole solar-cycle. As his knees bent and his arms stretched enough, the balance in the air had been getting much easier. Swaying left and right, he maintained the position enough, just to let the waves carry him forward.

Maybe the method to the madness was right there. Being used to the ground, rarely changing back to his alt mode, Soundwave never once took notice of what had been going in the clouds. After all, it was Laserbeak’s forte. But right at this moment, feeling the warmness of the winds and the sway it had on him, he almost understood why his cassetticon tended to stay up in the air. As well as the grip it had on his sparkmate.

There was freedom to be found within the skies. The adrenaline rush that he often didn’t feel on his own. Soundwave’s pedes stepped firmly onto the ground. Who knew that just enough of the happiness could make him quite literally soar above the ground. The place where not a single spark could judge him and his past. Just him, cutting through the clouds.

“Soundwave?”

A melody of the most beautiful vocalizer rang in his audio processors. So much so, he was happy that the harness let him stay in a single place.

His helm turned into the right, Hot Rod already by his side, catching the winds. The stance of his was much more confident, almost as if he himself also turned into a plane. Right by him, flew the always loyal Laserbeak, catching up to both of his beloved owners. Just like that, Hot Rod stayed next to him, carefully surfing across the winds, not to disturb any of their actions.

Suddenly, the imminent anxiety had melted away, ever so slightly. The plan was done, now it was only the execution. But all Soundwave could focus on was his Hot Rod’s faceplate. Of the surprise drawing at his features, maybe melting away with confusion. However, the most prevalent thing was the smile still circling around at the ends of his derma. One so beautiful it took Soundwave’s ex-vent away. Hot Rod’s optics betrayed everything for him. The blue of them was like the skies on the sunniest solar-cycle. Maybe since Hot Rod himself was the warmest star there was.

Still within that awe, Soundwave nodded. Then played somewhat of a heroic entrance music, almost as if welcoming him in the utmost boastful way. Unless it was for himself. Either or.

Hot Rod chuckled, his smile getting bigger, “I thought you hated heights.”

“But you love them,” he responded, swaying a little too hard to one side. Focus had to be maintained, no matter what.

“I do. Yeah,” so impressed, Hot Rod couldn’t find the correct words. “Oh, I knew you were acting suspicious! I just never thought it’d be something like this but all of a sudden your messages and then Laserbeak and Windblade… You had it all figured out, huh?”

“I may not love the heights but I do love a good plan.”

“Oh, you sooo do,” doing a sharper turn, Hot Rod once more matched the speed, letting Laserbeak follow him through. As Soundwave’s mediocre speed was not exactly satisfactory enough, he must’ve found happiness within Hot Rod’s more daredevil-esque surfing. “Okay, I get that you mobilized LB to your plan, he wouldn’t pass that opportunity, would you?” Turning around to Laserbeak he managed to scratch it just a little on his belly. Much to his glee, of course, “But how did you get Windblade on board?”

Soundwave stared blankly, “Art of persuasion.”

“Riiight. I forgot about your silver-glossa,” with that enamored glisten in his optics, he looked back at Soundwave. “In more ways than one, heh. I just… Wow. You’re incredible.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked carefully, swaying around once more but quickly catching his balance again.

“Actually? I am feeling, as if you’re taking me to cloud nine.”

As he had entered the scene, Soundwave could tell everything between the lines. He knew what constituted each mood for Hot Rod, so just one look was enough for him to tell. The little lines around his optics that showed his weariness, the first stiffer moves betrayed that he needed that micro-klik to get back into the action. In most probability, Hot Rod wouldn’t want to show any signs of a tiresome solar-cycle at work. Yet, just as much as he had read him, Soundwave’s diligent optics picked up on even the smallest changes within his sparkmate.

The responsibilities, though not only familiar but also becoming more welcome to Hot Rod, weighed him down exponentially. Maybe that was why when a smile brightened up his faceplate, it meant more than anything to Soundwave. Even with the pains, the struggles and once or twice resisting the urge to sound blast Windblade, that look into his optics and knowing he himself was the source of it, meant the whole Cybertron to him.

At the Nemesis, saying things right out of the spark was considered a weakness. Yet, there and then, Soundwave’s spark sang along with him, “Hot Rod. This is all for you.”

Maybe expressing whatever felt true still seemed hard, yet he tried. Time and time again. The loneliness had to be over, the solar-cycles starting to be brighter. Especially having someone by his side who deserved every bit of the affection.

There was also another thing. One that shook Soundwave’s chassis to its core. Even if the solar winds proved to be an exponential source of warmness, they were nothing to the sensation of Hot Rod’s servo catching his own. Still trying to maintain his stance, Soundwave spared a quick look around to them. Their digits intertwined with each other, as Hot Rod squeezed tighter.

“This is… More than I could ask for, Sounds.”

And as they soared through the skies, even with the fears lashed up against his frame, Soundwave knew he was safe. Especially as Hot Rod held him, like an anchor against the waves of the storm.

He’d probably say something more in return, if it wasn’t for a certain femme entering his field of vision. Soaring away, the jet engines on her wings spun excitedly. If she was in her robot form, her faceplate would probably beam with a smile, one of victory and content.

“Soundwave!” Windblade called, unable to conceal her amusement. “Didn’t know you were this good at the solar board! I wonder who your teacher was…”

If it was possible, Soundwave would raise his brow ridges. Instead, he settled on that deadpan tone, “Windblade.”

“Hope you’re having fun on your boards, guys!” she continued, almost dismissing Soundwave’s tone for her own genuine laugh. “But there’s nothing better than being able to fly on your own.”

“You might wanna think twice – nothing better than wheels on the road,” Hot Rod chimed in, picking up what she was getting at. “Besides, sometimes a board is better than the wings.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna race to find out?” Still almost nonchalant, Windblade asked. Truly, everyone around knew not to make bets with her, as her competitive nature often led her the way. For Windblade, there was nothing better than a friendly race, just to reach right to the top.

It just so happened that the same was true about Soundwave. Yet, the friendly was often put in quotations.

“Bring it on,” with enough bravado in his almost monotone tones, Soundwave sounded as certain as possible.

Yet, Hot Rod took it just as enthusiastically, “Yeah! C’mon, Windblade! You can’t win with us and you know it.”

“Sure! Let’s find out together,” with that confident sway, Windblade pointed in the distance via the edge of her cockpit. “First one to reach the top of Ironhide’s gym building wins.”

As they both nodded at the proposition, Hot Rod started again, “Alright, say when go.”

“Okay – go!”

Within several kiliks, Windblade called out their starting line. All that was needed now was a certain kind of stamina to reach it. Not to mention the correct manipulation of the winds all surrounding them. Nothing neither of them could do. 

“Pfft. Aviators, am I right?” when Soundwave nodded, Hot Rod continued. “C’mon. Let’s show her the wheelers can still get it.”

But Soundwave was certain of one special caveat. With a certain kind of glint into his optics, he said firmly, “Go. It’s a race.”

“Wait… You sure, Sounds?”

“Yes. See you on the finish line.”

Laughing away, Hot Rod took a readying pose, “Alright! Don’t make me wait.”

“Not a chance.”

One last grin and Hot Rod was off with his solar board. The winds carried him forward, getting more and more momentum. As well as velocity. The conductor’s stick had signalized for the orchestra to start playing. Hence, Soundwave couldn’t do anything but to follow the cue.

His legs bended and his arms stretched enough to keep up that balance which almost seemed impossible in the air. Optics on the prize, that was what he was telling himself, anyway. Suddenly, an idea appeared at the corners of his processors as clear as a music note. Hence with just this one idea, Soundwave gathered enough of his energy to create a sound wave big enough to carry him forward, through the solar winds.

In a moment he passed Windblade, almost seeing her jet frame stumble along the winds. More importantly, he also caught a glimpse of the happiness mixed in with surprise coming back from Hot Rod. The marvel within those blue optics was everything Soundwave could have hoped for. Maybe even wish. So the wave kept carrying him towards the ending point.

Everything he had learnt from before, what Windblade had said and how he had seen Hot Rod cut through the waves served their purpose. Now that was the ultimate test. To show not only his strength, agility and skill but his beloved superiority. Soundwave wasn’t there to try – he was there to win.

Wouldn’t that be the most perfect ending to this solar-cycle? As much as he knew how Hot Rod loved racing and winning, he should expect that such was reciprocated by Soundwave. To show himself on top and make everyone stare in awe, as his calculated moves went together like a symphony. Even Laserbeak seemed to be on board, matching his moves. From the spark, Soundwave knew he wanted to help him but there truly was no need. He was going to win on his own, with Laserbeak as the loyal companion.

Just like that, just for a single moment, Soundwave could feel he not only belonged – he surpassed what everyone had been suspecting off of it.

The fears of never being enough to fit in within the peaceful society could be actually long gone. Within the reigns of the Decepticons, Soundwave was feared due to not only his omnipotence but also his ability to read through every single mech. Figuratively and literally, that was.

Yet now, when he was next to the Autobots, Soundwave’s anxiety shifted further. He knew the stares they gave him. Ones that only translated to apprehension and forced distance between him and the so-called heroes of the war time. He knew he was wrong before. It just so seemed that many mechs took one look at him and thought that it was all there was to him. Energonlust, quietness, calculation and frigidness. Maybe even… Emotionless.

Everyone except one Autobot of fiery spark and dreamy ocean-blue optics. Who not only always saw the best in him but wasn’t afraid to call out the worst. And with him in his processors, Soundwave was more than ready to take steps forward.

All because there were things, places and most importantly mechs not only worth fighting but also changing for. Within the embrace of Cybertron’s new era, Soundwave wanted to feel that he belonged. Show to everyone who he actually was, not who he was made out to be. There was no reason to prove anything to anyone – but to show himself as he was. And wasn’t that the desire, a crescendo that long appeared in Soundwave’s spark.

Taking another firm step on the board, Soundwave knew it was exactly the destination of his journey. Not to show that he fitted in but that he excelled at what he did. Feel the superiority that came with everything he stood for, see the surprise within everyone’s optics. As he made his boosted ways through the solar winds, all his processors begged for was to forever keep up the feeling overwhelming his energon lines right there and then. Pure adrenaline, taking a chance on his own self. Showing himself – in more ways than one.

Another speed boost might’ve been unnecessary but damn, to dark spark with it. Soundwave’s pede stomped onto the board as his speakers drew out a clearer melody. Behind his battle mask, he couldn’t help but to crack a smile. Just for himself. The sound waves weren’t just meaningless noise either. In Soundwave’s audio processors, it was the most clear and enticing song. One of victory, one he always loved to play.

Amidst all the fervor of the micro-klik, Soundwave looked back to catch another glimpse back at Hot Rod. Though his features were getting further away, he knew there had to be some kind of awe attached to them. Following this up, Soundwave could already tell the future out of the metaphorical card deck shifting in his processors. Of course, Hot Rod would beg him for a rematch, knowing that the victory was Soundwave’s. Though deep within him, there would be that happiness and pride for him, for actually pulling through to make this happen. That the passion of his transcended to Soundwave. That they shared even more than they had spoken of before.

For Soundwave, the smile, determination and amusement within Hot Rod was more than enough.

Just before his optics was the finishing line. Ironhide’s gym was within his reach, maybe one last sound wave could make it happen. Even Laserbeak, who matched up his pace, was excited to see the end of their journey. Soundwave spared a look at his cassetticon and nodded. Truly no more words needed.

As he had attempted so, a vocalizer came to his audio processors. The song outro changed to something off-key.

“Hey Windblade! I think I’m getting the hang of thi–!”

The vocalizer of one Chromia right at him.

Just as he wasn’t looking in that particular direction.  

Then it was simpler. Chromia before his optics. Chromia crashing onto him. Balance lost. Tumbling down next to the building. Hitting the hard ground.

Somewhere out there, when Soundwave wasn’t thinking of both pain and Chromia’s elbow, currently smashing his battle mask, were noises. At least some. Definitely Hot Rod’s wonderful vocalizer, which was calling out his name in despair. As well as, Windblade calling out Chromia, the wind turbines on her wings spinning furiously. Oh, right, also Laserbeak was diving in to land back on his battered helm. Always by his side.

But as both Windblade and Hot Rod had approached them, they simply looked for that micro-klik before asking. Probably, since Soundwave had to be quicker.

“Windblade.”

Her vocalizer seemed uncertain, “Yes?”

“You’re the only one of us who can fly.”

“Oh. Good point.”

“Hooold still. I’m almost done, it’ll be just a kilik.”

“Hot Rod. This is embarrassing.”

In the corner of his derma laid a satisfied smile, “Doesn’t that bring back some good old memories?”

The silence of Soundwave’s seemed to already spell out everything that needed to be said. Hence Hot Rod continued his work, even more smug than before.

Everything else that had happened that afternoon stayed sharp in Soundwave’s processors. The touch of Hot Rod’s servo, as he helped him stand up and immediately wanted to call Ratchet or Knock Out onto the scene. Laserbeak too, staying close to him, sent an unusual kind of concern via his spark. More than before, anyway. But the scratches weren’t as painful as he had imagined. All in all, it truly was more about the inevitable fall of that one ancient hero, Soundwave had read about during his studies of human culture. What his name was, was at the tip of Soundwave’s derma, ready to be washed away.

What else, what else… Oh right, Windblade helping Chromia out. Ironhide appearing at the scene immediately. Ironhide yelling at Soundwave. Hot Rod’s servo again on his shoulder pad, as Soundwave was ready to sound blast Ironhide into oblivion. Quick apologies to Chromia, which she reciprocated. Small thank you to Windblade. And so, all the sides quickly went their separate ways.

Probably for the better since Ironhide was this close to throwing servos at him. Oh, the wonderful impulse control given to him from the most impulsive mechs around.

Hence now, Soundwave sat on their sofa, having a clean wipe pressed against his finish. Some started to be tinted in the familiar blue energon color. Yet he dismissed it. All that mattered was Hot Rod’s servos touching him so softly. Within each swipe, both the comfort and the anxiety of his concurred exponentially. Oh, sweet Primus, why was it so damn hard.

Still within his state of perpetual annoyance, Soundwave grumbled something that wasn’t even intelligible to himself. Though he could see Hot Rod’s optics soften, “Cheer up. When I’m done, you’re gonna look good as new.”

“I appreciate it,” he said flatly, the tension in his chassis still noticeable enough.

“I gotta say though – pretty impressive for Ironhide to come to her almost immediately,” Hot Rod smiled, swiping his helm one last time.

“Chromia is his Conjunx,” Soundwave gently reminded him, this time simply as stating a fact. Yet when his own words settled in, he had to make his own stand. “I would do the same for mine.”

Although romances often transcended what Soundwave found familiar, he had found that time and time again, it became clearer to see. All it took was a mech he had learnt to trust, someone who knew him better and vice versa. Suddenly some behaviors seemed much more understandable – there simply was a certain kind of familiarity to them he had tasted time and time again.

Yet, Hot Rod didn’t want to speculate more. His spark was quicker, “Same here. I wouldn’t even have a second processor impulse, I’d just go for it.”

“You’d do it without a second impulse no matter what,” with almost a cheekier twang to his vocalizer, Soundwave remarked.

“Sure, sure. Even if I do it in good faith,” Hot Rod defenselessly put his servos in the air. Then sparing a look at him, he showed him glossa. Much to Soundwave letting out a muffled chuckle. “But for them? It’d be like second nature.”

Without another word, Soundwave let his speakers play a low relaxing melody, almost like a lullaby. All this was enough for Hot Rod’s faceplate to shine with a gentle smile. Within the music, the sounds of Hot Rod himself humming along to the melody as he put away another wipe. Wasn’t that the most beautiful combination. His own music along with Hot Rod’s melodic voice. Always like the perfect duet.

Finishing it up, Hot Rod looked at their med box again, trying to find the correct piece. Just as so, he fished out a smaller band aid, one of the designs with music notes on them. Before Soundwave could even ask, he felt him put the piece of the bandage against a certain hurting spot at his helm. All was well.

“Thank you,” Soundwave nodded, even if sparsely, it truly meant the whole Cybertron to him.

“Wait, no, gotta do one last thing,” he remarked with a faux concerned expression, then leaned in closer. Quickly, he pressed a kiss right where the band aid was. And holding him by the shoulder pads, he said, “Now. Better.”

“Yes. Better.”

Everything that happened between seemed like a blur. Though, in all honesty, Soundwave still couldn’t figure out why his actions were… Like so. Disorganized. Thrown around. Even more so weirdly, feelings based. Some things that Soundwave never knew he would’ve said about himself.

One thing he wanted to say was the sweetness of everything Hot Rod had done made those things simply worth it. In a way. Even now, as the pain still appeared within his bruised chassis, the fact that Hot Rod stood by and remained by his side, was more than Soundwave could have ever bargained for. There was safety to this, even within thoughtless decisions. The most important decision of his stayed as clear and strong as it always had.

Just as he had decided to stand around and tend to his other businesses. Soundwave looked at the side of their living room, his optics hitting the outline of the opened window. No sign, of course. Hence Soundwave moved around to their kitchen counter, hoping that some light energon would make Hot Rod’s faceplate once more light up with a smile.

However, Hot Rod instead had followed his suit, leaning his chassis at the kitchen island. A quick glance told him a bit more than he had wanted to realize. There was no happiness within his optics – simply the worry spilling right through them.

“Soundwave…” he started, the vocalizer more nervous than he wanted to acknowledge. “You’re tense – I know it. Is it about surfing or maybe Chromia?”

“I am not mad about Chromia,” he said rather sharply.

“Ah-ha!” Hot Rod took a step further, this time regaining that ounce of his confidence. “I didn’t say mad.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to, soooo…” With a half-step he stood faceplate to faceplate to Soundwave. Then there was that gentle tug at his servos, capturing them together. “I don’t wanna push. But I also don’t want you to stay so mad all night or evening-cycle.”

The soft touch of Hot Rod’s servos was that one thing that seemed to be the remedy Soundwave’s processors were looking for. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect solution, yet it was most definitely a start to untangling it. Would be better if the crushing guilt didn’t stomp him down every time he gazed upon Hot Rod’s features.

That had to be the most pathetic feeling of them all – the crushing defeat. Especially when the supreme victory was just in the reach of his servos.

He did remember one thing, though. Something his therapist tried telling him over and over again. Ex-venting deeply, he knew he had to succumb to it. All to unlearn the millions of vorns’ worth of the Decepticon propaganda still flowing through his energon veins. As the feelings kept on washing over him, he knew there had to be some way of containing them. Or maybe the best way was to let them spill out.

“I asked Windblade to teach me how to solar surf,” at least the beginning of his confession seemed relatively painless.

“You did?” a surprise spread on Hot Rod’s faceplate. This time one mixed in with happiness. As the first hit settled, he asked more calmly, “What for?”

Here went the big moment. Truly no way of coming back from this.

“You love solar surfing. And I wanted to make you happy.”

There was that silence between them. One that Soundwave didn’t want to interpret as anything live crushing. Especially not at that moment. All that was certain was the irregular beat of his spark, almost out of shame and embarrassment. And all that was certain from Hot Rod’s side were his optics widening and his mouth opening ever so slightly.

“Wait, wait… All of this for… Me?”

Soundwave nodded. There didn’t need to be any more explanation between them.

Everything within Soundwave simply had suggested that it was but a terribly idiotic idea. How could it all be forwarded within an act of such? Though there was that marvel that kept on appearing in Soundwave’s processors, one of the past as he took that board and Hot Rod saw him as he was. Even if from the outside point, Soundwave lacked his usual prowess within the movements, there was something more. Something, he wasn’t allowing himself to ever do in his past.

Happiness. In its purest form.

Not that he could ever say it out loud. As the feelings washed upon him, there were no words adequate to the feeling. There was just the shame of failure. No matter what his processors wanted to tell him, Soundwave prepared himself for the unavoidable hit. One which would sting him, time after time. One he convinced himself he deserved.

Trying to avoid any other cue, Soundwave’s optics followed back away from Hot Rod’s faceplate. He couldn’t bear to see that disappointment, that contempt directed at him. Not that he didn’t deserve so, of course. All there was, was just shame that he had let his sparkmate down. Even his visor simply wasn’t enough to protect him. Hence Soundwave looked out to the vast and tangled streets of Iacon City. Where a place for him seemed to be getting much less plausible.

Instead, Hot Rod stood firmly before him. With another tug at his servos, he started, “This has got to be the sweetest and most out of processors thing I’ve ever heard. Especially from you.”

Soundwave ex-vented heavily. Even in times like such, the understanding and kindness of his was something his processors simply couldn’t comprehend. That was why, still not looking at him, Soundwave said firmly, “I have failed.”

“Oh, c’mon, you really thought you could nail it the first time?” he remarked, a laugh escaping his vocalizer. “You still put yourself out there, and it didn’t matter if you’d fail before my optics.”

Silently, Soundwave finally looked back.

Just as Hot Rod’s expression dropped, “You didn’t think of this, did you.”

“Not at all.”

To which Hot Rod shook his helm ever so gently and let his shoulder pads drop with almost a sway. “Still think you did a pretty damn good job for the first time, y’know?”

“Not perfect,” he accented, trying to push that one last idea. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. But it ended just like that.”

“Disappointed? ‘Waves, you tried your hardest! Do you think I nailed it on the first try?” In all honesty, yes, he really did think so. As he looked at Hot Rod moving across the winds with the biggest smile which showed all of his denta, Soundwave was damn sure he was a natural. And since Hot Rod had probably caught it immediately, he followed it, “Yeah, alright, don’t answer that. What I wanted to say is that… I know I often get mad that stuff just doesn’t come at me as it should but you... You always had that patience I love. With every step, you do better and I love that. Cause I can just see that it’s not only your skills it’s. You, you and your determination. And I’m proud of you.”

Something deep within Soundwave loosened. Looking back at Hot Rod’s faceplate, he could see that gentleness he was longing for. With his servo, he touched the edges of it, caressing him by the chin. All while Hot Rod’s optics lowered ever so slightly in the sign of bliss. One he wanted to capture within his servos forever.

“How are you doing this?” he asked, his vocalizer as low as ever.

“Doing what?”

“You always have an answer. Even if it’s convoluted,” Soundwave’s digit-tips continued to stroke down the edges. “When did you get so calm?”

“Honestly, I dunno,” with a half a step further, Hot Rod’s servos traveled back to his upper arms, stroking from there to his shoulder pads. “And when did you get so…”

“Impetuous?”

“Yeah. Read my processors.”

“That’s Windblade,” his digits’ motion became even softer. “I learnt that from a certain hotblooded red mech.”

“Funny,” Hot Rod cooed, getting even closer. “I can say I learnt that from a certain steady blue mech.”

Underneath his mask, Soundwave smiled. Everything he had seen, suggested that Hot Rod knew exactly what was going on.

Though there was that one more caveat he couldn’t let go. As he held onto Hot Rod so firmly, he truly couldn’t stop coming back to it. The one final wave that kept on hitting, yet it was the one that seemed the truest of them all. But Hot Rod deserved to know what his spark had sung back at him. Just like the surfer before the waves he was about to conquer.

The only thing Soundwave truly needed to conquer was his own damn pride.

With his vocalizer trembling, Soundwave started anew, “Hot Rod. It was all for you.”

“And I honestly, really appreciate it. No matter what that ending was.”

“You don’t understand,” he specified, this time getting both of his servos close to his own spark, beating out melody after melody. “Actions sing louder than words. Sometimes, I feel like when you’re singing every solar-cycle, you deserve more than a mere hum from me. I don’t want you to keep listening to silence.”

At least in one place, he was ready to speak out what seemed to flow through his processors. Everything that Hot Rod was, everything he stood for sang in the clearest of tones Soundwave had ever heard. His spark was right on his shoulder pad, as love never seemed an exception for him. Far from it, everything about Hot Rod had reminded him of love and pure fire. To give it and spread it. Exactly what he had done for him too – gave him love, time and patience he never knew he had deserved.

Maybe that was exactly what he had seen when he looked at Hot Rod. The kindling fire that made him want to do stupid things. Just to tell one of the clearest, yet most impossible truths of his whole life.

“That’s why you wanted to try solar surfing? Oh, Primus, that’s…” Hot Rod stopped for a singular klik,  probably gathering all the correct words. “That just has to be one of the sweetest things you’ve done for me.”

“Everything about you speaks clearly about your feelings,” Soundwave noted. The Cybertronian sun setting lower, as the sunbeams hit his blue finish. “Mechs usually don’t know what is going on with me.”

Some of them liked it, some of them had found it another reason to hate him all throughout. With Megatron especially it worked like a flip of the switch. The undeniable times where he kept silent were ones when all Soundwave was needed for was the action and subsequent reaction. When his derma were sealed at the potential treachery which Megatron threw around left and right, that seemed to oftentimes be the breaking point. After all, however, it was best to only talk when it was truly needed, not to make the times of his speed even worse.

That was also the reason why Soundwave’s moods and things said between the lines were so often dismissed. He had this hatred towards showing himself as he was. For him, there was no reason to ever reveal his optics or all around faceplate. No one bothered to ever wonder. No one except for Hot Rod.

“I wanna know. I know you feel scared now, Soundwave. Just don’t “but” me, I know how you are,” with his pointing digit, Hot Rod tried to at least give him a piece of that faux discipline. When Soundwave yielded, he returned to place his servos against his chest plate. One that probably beat faster than the rust plague spread. “Look. I never doubted your feelings. And I don’t need any big fancy schmancy dates or gestures, o-or them all, really! Soundwave, you’re you. Since you’ve started it, I wanna say – sometimes the hum is the best melody there is. And I’m just here to listen.”

“Even to the silence?”

“Especially to the silence, Soundwave,” he reassured him and soon enough, Soundwave’s servos landed on his middle. “After a while, I guess I found out that love is in everything. In your grand and also smaller gestures, or my friends asking me if I’m alright, or Laserbeak chewing on me before I burn down our kitchen, or you… Handing me a glass of hot energon. Or sending me songs when I can’t stand the meetings. Or even when you hold me, when I complain about a new innovation Perceptor insists on testing during my shift! You always think of me. And you always carry forward with all that. And you know… Love is in everything you do.”

“But you speak so much more.”

“You like listening to me?”

Soundwave agreed, “The best song there is.”

“Then guess I’ll keep on doing that,” he let out a satisfied, pearly laugh. Once more it tugged directly at Soundwave’s spark. “I’m just saying, Soundwave. Don’t feel like you gotta push yourself more and more with these. Love can be in so many things, just like you talking about it with me.”

Once more, he had to say the last part, ever so nostalgically, “Vulnerability…”

“Yeah, you can say that. I mean, every time I can see your beautiful spark, I’m happy,” with his servo, Hot Rod started to draw small circles all around Soundwave’s chest port. “I’m happy that… You try.”

With a slower ex-vent, once more he tried to calm himself down. The mere presence of Hot Rod being able to stir his processors fully. This however was like the most beautiful reminder. Of his lover’s burning spark beating right beside him. Accepting him as he was, no matter the ever so prevalent trips.

When things weren’t perfect, at least Soundwave knew everything within Hot Rod’s spark was true.

Hence as Soundwave placed his own servo right against his, he whispered, “Hot Rod. My sweetspark. You are my catalyst for... Everything.”

“Sounds,” he said with such amazement, Soundwave felt as if his spark was made out of feathers. “And you are everything to me.”

The words fell off of his glossa like the little embers glistening when the wind took them. To hear something of such, to feel that gentle touch of his against one of the most vulnerable spaces in his whole chassis… Maybe his own words couldn’t exactly say it all out. Whatever his derma couldn’t have said freely, he finished with that one last push to make them come together in a kiss.

With Hot Rod, everything felt like a set of firsts. Feelings in his spark, thoughts in his processors but the touch on his chassis was one the bare words could never explain. The moments when his derma caught his were still so… New. Like learning his lover more and more as it went. There was an inherent vulnerability to show off his faceplate. There was even more when his faceplate was touched like so.

Though he could already sense how Hot Rod immersed himself deep within that new feeling. In a moment, Soundwave could feel his servos, pressed against the jawline of his. With each new motion, they ghosted all across them. Soundwave himself started to let his servos wander further.  Touching the delicate spots on his chassis, ones that he knew Hot Rod especially liked. Just a dainty press against his spoiler and Hot Rod almost jumped in place. Then Soundwave simply chuckled and gave him that denta-filled grin of his.

Hot Rod’s servos once more settled for the place at the back of his neck, “And here I thought you were more behaved.”

“You should have anticipated it,” Soundwave moved himself so his voice could hit precisely onto his audio processors.

“With you it’s like an endless set of surprises,” with his left servo he started cupping the side of his helm, drawing along the lines of it with his digit-tips. “Then y’know. That’s what I love about you.”

“Love?”

His optics lowered exponentially, yet the gentleness that beamed through them was more than he could imagine, “Oh. Yeah. I love you, Soundwave.”

Everything within himself set ablaze. The words of his, just these ones were enough to make his processors run at the highest possible setting. Not to mention he was happy that Laserbeak was currently out. The rapid beat of his spark would probably make him remember such for many long solar-cycles.

Not that Soundwave would’ve minded. Especially not while hearing such words.

Once more, he took Hot Rod’s chin into his servos. Showing him his faceplate was enough but his optics still had to be hidden away. Yet, he trusted him. With all that was in the worlds. Within one click, Soundwave’s optics exposed themselves to look at his dearest sparkmate. And with this he had said, “I love you too, Hot Rod.”

The words of affirmations still felt as If they were too big to say out loud. But each time they tried, the simpler it felt. Just what was hiding in their sparks. As Hot Rod threw his arms around Soundwave’s shoulders and in return, he embraced him tighter in the middle, in both of their processors the most important thing revealed itself to them.

It was true. It was all true.

His visor once more covered up his optics, still right inside preferring to reveal such bit by bit. Though it never seemed to be a problem for Hot Rod. Instead, Soundwave’s servos then took advantage of the situation and with one a little more careless move, he dipped his sparkmate down. All that needed to be to punctuate the feeling was Hot Rod’s laughter once more filling up the room. Oh, how much he loved this sound, he couldn’t even articulate it properly.

When words failed, his derma once more kissed right at Hot Rod’s. Moves within each other which from slow and steady turned passionate in the matter of kliks. Soundwave once more let his servos slide against Hot Rod’s frame, feeling it becoming hotter. Wasn’t that his favorite feeling in the entire Cybertron. Especially as Hot Rod’s chassis within its warmth started to press more so against Soundwave. The dip was just the beginning, as Hot Rod’s leg locked onto the tibulens of his. All while servos desperately wanted to find the correct place to stay for a longer while.

The kisses themselves unfolded into the longer ones, where passion between them grew. Even if Soundwave’s cooling systems tried to fight, they were nothing compared to everything Hot Rod made him feel. His derma was simply perfect, as Soundwave kept on touching and caressing them. Once or twice even letting his glossa take control, while Hot Rod’s soft mewl filled his spark with more and more fire.

Though Soundwave’s couldn’t continue on with just this. His derma moved lower and lower, kissing the edges of his chin, shoulder pads, then to those beautiful flames adorning his chest. Within those several moments, Soundwave knew it all to be perfect, just as it was. His audio processors caught Hot Rod saying his name with utmost devotion, Soundwave himself felt as if he was ready to melt away.

How much he had wanted to reassure Hot Rod of everything he felt. He made him feel safe. He was his entire future. He was the smile on his often hidden dermas and songs that he kept on repeating via his speakers. But most importantly, Hot Rod was his present and his home. All Soundwave wished for was that Hot Rod would be simply happy. And that he himself would continue to make his life better.

Just like that Soundwave came to the faceplate level with him again. Hot Rod touched him so delicately, so sweetly. Dermas brushing once more, yet what mattered the most was their closeness. Helms touched together, as Hot Rod’s servos simply kept on wandering on and off around him. Everything Soundwave wanted was in his arms, within the beautiful tones of Hot Rod’s sparkbeat.

Maybe not everything. As Soundwave’s spark suddenly felt that tug in it, just as subtle, while asking a question of “do you mind?”.

Then a squawk.

At least Laserbeak returned safely.

Surprised at this too, Hot Rod looked across the room to catch a glimpse of their cassetticon. In a moment, Soundwave retracted his battle mask and placed Hot Rod back on the ground.

“Heey, Laserbeak!” he could hear Hot Rod greeting the cassetticon warmly. As Soundwave turned around he could already see him nuzzling to his side, little happy chirps spreading across the room. “Whatcha got there?”

Laserbeak squawked again and jumped back to Soundwave’s side. Giving him that first small greeting of a small cuddle right back at his helm. As Soundwave’s spark flickered with appreciation and Laserbeak definitely got it right back, he revealed a video message, recorded right by him. The freezeframe showing both Windblade and Chromia together.

Jackpot.

Though Hot Rod’s puzzlement was way more exponential, “Okay you two – what are you up to?”

He wasn’t even able to remain within his silence, as Laserbeak started playing the message.

“Soundwave, thanks for checking in on us,” Windblade started.

“And especially for those energon pralines!” Chromia joined in, putting another sweet confection into her mouth. “Laserbeak is really sweet too, aren’t you?” Saying just so, Chromia’s servo went back to the side of his camera, scratching the edges of his little bird helm.

“I’m sorry that it ended up like this. If you ever want to learn more about solar surfing, let’s talk and I’ll help you out,” she continued and then turned back to Chromia. “Unless you want to be the teacher.”

“I’m not the one to do so, I don’t think I have the patience. If Soundwave wants to try, he better start preparing for the triathlon.”

“Ohh, good point. Anyways, it’s been fun and I have destroyed both you and Hot Rod, so it was worth it.”

“And I’m alright, not to worry. Ironhide’s been really worrying but I honestly am fine. Thank you, though,” Chromia finished, as Windblade also nodded politely.

However, Laserbeak said something more. At least, Windblade was ready to catch it, though not without a certain hint of interest.

“Ironhide? I dunno, actually. Chromia, do you know where he is?”

“Oh yes. I’m pretty sure he’s working out right now in that upstairs space,” Chromia confirmed. ‘Why are you asking?”

All of a sudden, Laserbeak took flight again. Soaring through the rooms of their house, he finally found the place where all the biggest apparatus was. Maybe a storage unit of the equipment for his gym. The last thing recorded was Laserbeak’s alarmed squawk. And him launching himself right at Ironhide.

Soundwave and Hot Rod exchanged a look. In a moment, both of their laughs filled up their apartment.

All was quiet. In a way which Soundwave had always loved.

Maybe not completely quiet, however in a way that was comfortable as it dispersed across the rooms. Soft music played within his speakers, letting the ambiance build up on itself. Some time ago, Hot Rod fell asleep, spread onto their couch. Knowing exactly how Hot Rod tended to be during his sleep, for Soundwave it was almost impressive how he managed to stay in place during his naps. Quickly enough, Laserbeak also joined in on him. Rolling himself in a little bundle, sleeping soundly right at Hot Rod’s chest. The ex-vents that made the little cassetticon rise up and down at it and as he felt, exactly to his amusement.

While Soundwave simply stood beside the window, seeing the Cybertronians make their way along with Iacon City. Some in hurry, some leisurely, some simply trying to catch a break for a single klik. Above most of them, Soundwave gave into his sweet energon drink. All seemed so well.

Then in all of the peacefulness rang the home communicator. Startled, Soundwave silenced the device, looking back to see if either Hot Rod or Laserbeak woke up. To his relief, nothing with them had changed. Though there was a message playing, recorded by the caller.

“Hot Rod? It’s Shadow Striker. You’re not answering your comm, so I figured I might as well call home. I hope you remember about our dance lessons on the next solar-cycle. I still have no idea what in the dark spark compelled you to ask me but whatever. If it’s for Soundwave I’ll allow it. Anyway, ring me back, I need to ask you some specifics.”

Soundwave looked back at Hot Rod’s side. Then continued to drink his energon with a smile on his dermas.