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warriorsparked · 2 years ago

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Midnight Pleasures.

Originally written 2010 Characters: Megatron, Shockwave Timelines: Early post-war (MY AU) Warning: contains mech/mech, sex scene.

Megatron’s servos grasped at the berth beneath him, his lips parting in his stasis. The heat of his dream circled down between his legs, swallowing him whole with wet, delicate lips. Beneath his casing, his cable was hard and pulsing, dripping inside from his excitement as thick, pouty lips took him again and again. He was so close, he could feel it, somewhere mixed between being in stasis and being awake. He could feel the very real physical pleasure, his cable throbbing as he lay on his back atop the berth he shared with his mate. Only it was not Shockwave that was down between his legs, but a stranger. No one. No name, no frame, no real identity, just a mystery shape as they suckled him. Just a little longer. Just a little more. So close! Almost there! His thighs parted, and as he felt the pent up pressure ready to release, some cruel force of nature made his optics flicker online, his spark thumping in his chest as the ceiling came into view. He was back on the Ark. The small room that was shared between him and his newfound bonded surrounding him. Swallowing hard, Megatron realised that he was short of breath, having panted from his dream. Primus, he was even covered in a sweat, condensation beaded against his chest. His dreams were often vivid, but many of them were nightmares, hands clawing at him, screams in his audios, or whispers of cruel promises. Tonight, it had been different, and his cable was still hard between his legs beneath his codpiece, just seconds away from erupting.

“Are you alright?” Shockwave’s voice was soft between them as he lay beside Megatron. Though unlike his bondmate, the scientist was clean of any condensation, and was calm and collected. He’d only woken because Megatron had been shifting in his stasis so much. Generally speaking, this was not uncommon, though most nights it was due to his night terrors, the memories and the torture he’d suffered before and throughout the war. Tonight, it appeared to be a completely different reason. He could see the heat glowing between Megatron’s thighs, which indicated his arousal. As his relatively new bondmate, he could also feel a certain rush of energy being so close to Megatron’s spark and EM field.

Megatron had flinched despite the softness of Shockwave’s Tarnian accent. He took a deep breath, the glow of yellow drawing his optics to his partner. “Fine,” he muttered, though a sense of guilt began to weigh heavily in his chest. He had dreamed of something that Shockwave could not do. He could not wrap his lips around his cable, for he lacked them. That was not something entirely strange for their people, as they came in all shapes and sizes, but it had been something that Megatron had found exciting many a time. He had to get used to the idea that it would never happen again for so long as he was bonded to Shockwave (which he hoped was until the end of time). Sitting up, he pushed himself to the edge of the berth. He should not speak of it. He should not mention it when Shockwave had been nothing but loyal to him for so long. It would be a slap to his lover’s face, but it was hard to hide the fact that he had been aroused, and Shockwave had already seen it. When a hand went to his shoulder, he felt himself frown. Shockwave was always so supportive that it hurt sometimes. In fact, it had made him downright angry at times. How could he remain so loyal to someone like him, even after the war? He was far from perfect. He’d been a mess once it had ended, not to mention the long recovery from his processor surgery. Shockwave was always there, like a loyal dog, and this was how he repaid him? He was not good enough for the other mech. He was unworthy.

“Forgive my intrusion, but you do not appear to be fine,” Shockwave spoke. It was true, that they had not been bonded for long, that they had completely and utterly rushed into something so serious, but their feelings spoke for themselves. Not just since the end of war, but before it also. Particularly on Shockwave’s side of things. He had watched Megatron brood in the war meetings, he had watched him kill and torture, and many other things. He could tell when Megatron was fine or not, even if others thought he was an emotionless droid.

Megatron turned his head slightly, though he did not see Shockwave over his shoulder, his optics looking down before he placed his hand atop the other. “My stasis haunts me, Shockwave, you know this. It is nothing new, and it will not be the last time.” That was for certain. “But, I…” He paused, his lips parting before he closed them again.

A curious antenna twitched as Megatron stopped. He did not need to tell him, he never did. Shockwave didn’t expect the former warlord to tell him every, little detail of his past life. They had worked so long together, it was hard to imagine that either of them had lives before the war. They were different people back then (quite literally in Shockwave’s case, although he had not yet discovered that). “Yes?” he asked as Megatron’s hand fell from his own.

The sensation of his dream still lingered, still went unsatisfied, and it bothered him. It bothered Megatron that he was thinking of someone else, a femme, instead of the mech that shared his berth. Their berth. “I am sorry,” he replied, turning part way on the berth so he could look Shockwave in the optic as he said it. “I dream of things I cannot control. Of those that… are not you. I wish that I could control it, but I cannot.” As a bonded pair, did that mean he was breaking some rule he did not understand? It wasn’t like he’d ever been bonded before, let alone held any real stable relationship. He may have shared the berth with a thousand and even more others, but it had always been pleasure and nothing more. Unless it was pain. Love? Megatron didn’t know what the hell love was. At least, not until he’d realised it had been staring him in the face for so damn long and he’d been to blinded by greed and corruption to see it.

Was that Megatron’s problem? Shockwave’s optic lowered a moment, just to see the faint glow that came from Megatron’s cod. His head tilted before he looked back to those two, fierce optics. There was a want in them, a desire, and Shockwave could tell. “You need not apologise for dreams, Megatron,” he stated, like it was as simple as that. Was it not? He did not understand how Megatron could blame himself on something he could not control. None of them could. Dreams were entirely involuntary. That was just well known science. When Megatron turned, he lowered his hand. “I have experienced my fair share.” Some of them had been wild, made little sense. Some of them had felt so real, like he had lived a completely different life to the one he knew. It was a normal thing, to dream. Some experienced more vivid ones, some none at all. Either way, no one could control them, not without a cortical psychic patch anyway, and even then, that was an entirely different thing.

Of course Shockwave would say that. He had an answer for everything, annoyingly so at times. How he envied Shockwave’s ability to just… let things go. To not care about things that could not be controlled. To see reality for what it was, and not what warped it thanks to trauma and deeply rooted emotions. He brushed that aside. Things between them were still new, and they would be for some time. Two war veterans, falling in love with each other, none of them knowing what true love actually was. They would fumble, and fumble again, but the important thing was that they tried. Leaning his hand up, he cupped Shockwave’s chin, a thumb moving across warm metal. Shockwave may not be able to take his cable in his mouth, but he could certainly finish what he dream had started. “Touch me.” It was said with a passion, a demand more than any sort of beg. Megatron did not beg.

Shockwave looked at the other mech, befuddled at the sudden command. He was still getting used to these requests, the idea that his hands could now trace against any part of Megatron without a fusion canon aimed at the back of his head. But it begged the question. What sort of touching? Where was he supposed to touch him? The request made him hesitate, hoping that he would get it right. He moved forward, awkwardly, and placed his hand to Megatron’s chest, hoping that that would suffice.

Megatron merely chuckled. “Lower, Shockwave.”

Shockwave’s hand fell down to Megatron’s stomach, where he looked back up for confirmation. The look on his lover’s face said it was not low enough, and he realised what Megatron meant. Oh… Shockwave could not use his lips on him, but his mate had two hands. Two hands that could envelop him, two hands that could make him feel loved and comforted, and pleasure and pain all at the same time. Megatron retracted his casing, where his cable fell out, still semi-hard, and when Shockwave’s hand finally understood the order, he exhaled a breath at the sensation of finally being touched. He still could not accept the idea of anyone controlling him in the berth, but did Shockwave realise just how much control he really had? Did Shockwave realise what he could actually do to him? That he was one of the few that could have actually bested him in battle? Yet, he never chose to. Megatron could have melted against him, yet he still gave the illusion that he was the one in control. Always. He would never surrender.

Watching Megatron, Shockwave felt his own body react at the feeling of his lover’s hardened cable inside his palm. It was not often he found himself so easily aroused, but there was something about Megatron that made it impossible to ignore.

Leaning forward, Megatron pressed his helm to Shockwave’s, their fields touching. He should not be rewarded like this, he knew, but he also did not care anymore. Shockwave was close, and he was there, with him, his hand working him over enough for him to put that into the very back of his mind. He tensed at the pleasure as it built, feeling lubricant dribble from the head of his arousal. Shockwave used it to ease any friction, causing him to twitch, already overly sensitive from his unfinished dream. With optics dimming, he moved his own hand towards Shockwave’s thigh, tracing over pale metal. “Why don’t you open up for me?” he teased, moving so he could press his lips to Shockwave’s neck, kissing at the exposed wires. He wanted to bite him, to sink his fangs into the soft, fleshy wiring and taste him, but not now. Not tonight. It was too soon, and he did not wish to scare his lover away.

If only Megatron knew, though. If only he knew how much Shockwave wanted that. Still, the former Guardian of Cybertron did not hesitate to follow Megatron’s command, his own codpiece retracting and exposing his own erect cable. When Megatron’s hand wrapped itself around him, he tensed, wings flaring and antennae flicking back. He was suddenly on his back as the larger mech moved over him. His hand lost the hardened length of Megatron’s shaft, grasping onto any part of his mate he could as he was so easily manoeuvred.

“That’s it, just relax,” Megatron urged. Control was hard to give up, it seemed, or maybe it was the idea and image of Shockwave beneath him, squirming like that. So much raw emotion when he was there, like he’d never seen before. He liked it. He liked it a lot. “Does it feel good?” he spoke softly in Tarnian just for the other mech as he wrapped his hand around both of their cables, rubbing them together.

Shockwave made a soft noise from his vocaliser, surprised when Megatron spoke to him in his home tongue. He’d not forgotten that Megatron could speak it, it was just not something he’d done in a long, long time. It felt personal. Intimate. Megatron had never perfected other languages like he had. There was a certain twang in the accent that was certainly not from Tarn, but that did not matter. Often, Megatron had used Soundwave to help translate other languages, until he’d invented an internal programme which helped Megatron along his travels. ”Yes,” he replied in his mother tongue, his servos clawing at Megatron’s back now. He moaned when he felt lips at his neck again, down his shoulder and over his chest, where his spark was. “I want you,” he whimpered back in the common tongue. “My Liege, I beg you.” Yes, it felt so natural for him to beg like that beneath the larger mech.

It was that easy. It was that easy to rile Shockwave up, even if it had been him to wake from an erotic dream. So eager to please, so eager for him. That settled some worries within Megatron’s own spark as his hand continued to pump up both their lengths. Shockwave was considerably smaller than him, but that made no difference to him. He’d come to enjoy his lover’s body, despite never having thought much about other mechs outside of pure, physical gain. Leaning back, he abandoned their cables, but it was only so he could pull Shockwave’s legs around him and guide his cable into his lover’s already damp aft. It slipped in with an ease that only told him how excited Shockwave was, hearing him moan as he was swallowed. Leaning back down, his hands hit the berth, servos clawing at it as he rocked his hips back and forth. “You taste so sweet,” he whispered against Shockwave’s neck, kissing and suckling at metal and wires. Between Shockwave’s moans and what lingered from his dream, it did not take long for him to overload, nor Shockwave. Soon, the two of them were tangled limbs, servos scratching at painted armour and gripping at any surface they could. He soon felt the heat of his overload spill into Shockwave beneath him, as well as Shockwave’s overload that created a slick mess between them. With cooling fans whirring, Shockwave’s hands fell from Megatron’s back, having gripped onto his tracks for dear life. His legs fell, vents huffing air from his throat to try and cool his poor body down. When he felt Megatron exit him, he tensed, a soft moan vibrating down his chest as he felt lubricant dribble down between his legs and no doubt onto the berth. Idly, he lifted a hand, where he cupped Megatron’s cheek, warm from their lovemaking. There was something tender in those optics, something that was shared only between the two of them that no one else had the privilege of seeing.

Megatron found himself uncharacteristically leaning into the touch of his mate. He was not used to gentle gestures and touches like that. He didn’t realise how much he needed them. How good they actually felt, and yet how vulnerable he became at the same time. “Hm… we have made a mess,” he muttered, looking down to see Shockwave’s overload against the both of them. Anything to gain control again. To not feel so weak at such a simple thing like Shockwave’s servos at his metal skin. Primus, when did he become so fucking desperate? Or had he always been this way? All the hate and anger, shadowing his pain and need.

Shockwave looked down. “It appears so…” They would need to clean themselves up, and the berth by this point.

“No matter,” the former warlord hummed, a smirk at his lips, “It was well worth it.”

#My art #My fics #My AU #MegaShock #// This was originally written in 2010 though I'm doing a MASSIVE overhaul of my long fic series and all the ficlets that tie in #This was legit just a little PWP but also I don't expect anyone who hasn't read my series to understand wtf is happening if you do end up #reading this lol #Let me tell you how much the start of this series sucks balls because it was a diff time and I was so young also it was over 10 years ago l #But I can say wholeheartedly that I am so happy with the rewrite and how it's going <3 #I've come a very long way as a writer no thanks to this series and I'm still proud of it even if there was so much cringe XD #ANYWAY I'm rambling because posting this here is making me nervous hahaha

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