The Shadow of Kaon

Mates

With every tilt of the dark visor in his hand, Soundwave watched as the purplish hue of the glass shifted under the morning light that seeped through the small window above the berth. It was a thin line of sunray, nothing more, but it was enough to light up the small room and to let him see the almost completely bare space around them.

The only pieces of furniture were a work computer in the corner and a simple, overly scratched narrow berth, telling him exactly how little time Darkwing had spent in here in her free time. Completely empty walls, no photos, no small trinkets or even a datapad anywhere, as if she had never taken the time or energy to make this place cozier or at least somewhat more personal for herself.

The silent mech had already been awake for some time, a part of the strict routine he had forced on himself for years, but now, with the still sleeping femme lying on top of his chassis, he didn't have the Spark to wake her with his movements.

Even while recharging, she was clinging into him so tightly that even the smallest moves required planning from his part. Her helm pressed against his chest right on top of his sparkchamber, her frame only partially weighing on him in her slightly turned position, while her wings stuck out to the sides, spreading out and sometimes twitching as the seeker's dreams made them react accordingly.

She was so relaxed, without the smallest hint of worry... For a moment, Soundwave wondered whether it was because of their new situation or simply because of the exhaustion from everything they had done yesterday.

After all, when they got back to Darkwing's room, they didn't spare any more moments keeping their servos away from each other.

That strange motion when she pressed her dermas against his, and they let their glossas taste each other... His constantly overworking processor got degraded into the mix of incoherent half-thoughts from that sensation, and by the time he noticed, they were already on the berth, digits caressing over each other's frame, gripping and stroking, gently exploring parts he would have never let anybody else get even close to.

And those noises... the quiet gasps and the low, purring sounds that escaped Darkwing's voicebox in response to his touches... he made sure to record some of them into his voicebank.

But now... these recordings were the exact reason for his uncertainty.

He watched as the light reflected off his visor, observing the thin scratches that came from the long years of usage and his distorted reflection beneath it, and for a long second, a heavy weight squeezed his Spark together.

During the years of war, he almost completely forgot his own face... turning away from every reflective surface when taking the visor off was necessary for medical checkups, and only consuming his Energon cubes in the seclusion of his own quarters... it was a faceless and voiceless existence, sometimes making him even forget that there was a life before it all.

But now, watching the misshapen, but still existing reflection of himself in the dark surface, the quiet buzzing in his Sparkchamber changed with a low tune.

He placed down his visor on the side of the berth and reached up, the tips of his digits lightly caressing over the side of his femme's helm to calm himself, watching as another small twitch moved her wings up and down and her face scrunched for a second, but it only made a slight smile appear in the corner of his dermas.

For these short, quickly escaping hours in this room, she only belonged to him.

Darkwing, the Shadow of Kaon, the seeker who was responsible for the death of countless Autobots, and the obliteration of a handful of bases too, was nothing more than a small, fragile little femme in the protection of his servos.