Not quite paradise

Prompt fill for . ?thread=13641216#t13641216. I took a few liberties with the plot (you will notice). All those warnings (dubcon, mpreg) apply. Also, character death.

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As it stood, Optimus Prime was done for. Megatron and Soundwave had seen his fellow Autobots haul him back to their miserable base in pieces after their last battle. And that was over a week ago. Subsequently, break-ins had increased in Shockwave's workshops, and every time, the thieves seemed to know all too well what they were coming for. Only a set of hydraulics. Only a bag of nanite infusion. An experimental energon-abridger. Most recently, a new cosmitron. Frenzy and Ravage had suggested that they try and trap the uninvited visitors, but Megatron spat a denial in a peal of malicious laughter. He wanted to know what else Optimus Prime still needed and those backward fleshy allies could not provide for him. Also, he wanted his greatest nemesis to be repaired, so that he could be defeated again. And again, and again. Every time he was willing to stand up for the miserable rights and lives of pitiful weak beings.

Laserbeak perched close to the laboratory's ceiling. Even if Megatron didn't allow them to interfere, she could still sit and identify the robbers, could she not? And then, she would track them to their base, and perhaps also slip inside and gather new information. Soundwave would not mind her absence for an evening, especially not now. A spy she was, but she shyly averted her processor from her carrier and her leader. She didn't want to know what they were doing right now. They were... ugh... celebrating. That. Celebrating in private.

Frenzy and Buzzsaw weren't nearly as polite about their superiors' intimacy. Both were eagerly picking up whatever came through their quantum-bond, and loudly commented on their guesses. This heat-sensation must have been Megatron touching their carrier's sensitive telepathy-sensors. That was the activation of the interfacing protocols. Oh yeeeeeees, the screech of rubbed thigh plating. Was that an actual moan they heard? From Megatron? And NOW, the intense heat. Their chest panels must be open by now. Spark union will happen in twenty-five... twenty-four... twenty-three... They could tell when Soundwave's spark casing opened. Twenty-one. Twenty.

Rumble had also heard the noises, felt the heat, but he declined to comment on it. These two were the worthiest mechs for each other. He would have never allowed anyone else even close to Soundwave, but he couldn't object against Megatron. He was their leader, their top-most commander, and Soundwave accepted his attention with gratitude. So Rumble simply cast a disdainful look at his co-cassettes, and turned away.

Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve astroseconds.

"Almost there!" Buzzsaw rejoiced.

Ten. Nine. Ravage stalked away from the duo who were counting down loudly. Even when his two favorite beings in the Universe were interfacing, someone had to stay alert and watch. Guard duty.

Three. Two. One.

MEGATRON.

Their leader's eruption into in their quantum-bond, the presence that ruled and destroyed worlds, swept them nearly off their feet. Even Laserbeak, three hundred hics away from the united sparks, was seeing stars as the powerful energy, the wonderful presence blasted through the bond between her and Soundwave.

Then, unexpectedly like lightning from the cloudless morning sky, there was a sense of panic. Abruption.

And Ratbat was no longer part of their cohort.

Where was he, what happened to him? What did he do, did he not die? What had he been doing while the rest were, willingly or not, paying attention to Megatron and Soundwave sharing sparks?

Laserbeak abandoned her hiding place and hurried back to the Decepticon base. The biped twins were on their feet, anxiously looking at each other, and Buzzsaw whispered "Do you remember their quarrel two joors ago?" Ravage jumped up and stormed away in the direction they had last seen the little batformer.

The two united sparks, despite the lurch of disruption and loss they had both felt, remained together for almost a minute. It wasn't a decision, more like an instinct or a barely understood part of the Cybertronian biology. Perhaps it was Soundwave's spark-pain that tied them together, perhaps it was the loss itself, or maybe the undefinable emotions that Megatron had felt. The sparks stayed together, and when they finally separated, there was a tiny fragment in Soundwave's brightly burning red spark that had not been there before.