Rating: M
Chapter 1
C.M.D: This came to me in a dream, after reading Megatron's Origins and, well, too much of an overactive imagination. Basically, my muses took a potential alternative route to the start of the civil war and mixed in my favourite slash pairing, and made this.
Originally posted on FF.net
He didn't like Sunstreaker!
“Waaahh!!”
“Oh, no...... Sunstreaker, Tracks,
what happened?,” the teacher said, approaching the two sparklings.
Tracks bawled from where he sat on
the ground. “S-sunny p-pushed me!,” he cried.
“I did not!,” the other
sparkling protested. He crossed his arms over his chest, pouting
angrily. “He falled by himself!”
“Sunstreaker.....,” the femme
sighed. Always with these two.... “It's not nice to push others.
You need to apologize to Tracks and be nice, or else you can go stand
in the corner.”
At her warning, Sunstreaker tensed
up. He pouted more, before sullenly turning to Tracks. The little
corvette was getting to his pedes now, wiping at his damp
cheekplates. “I'm...... sorry....,” the yellow sparkling
muttered.
Tracks was silent for about a
nanoklik, then he suddenly lashed out, kicking Sunstreaker in the
shin and dashing off.
“Tracks!,” the teacher yelled
after him exasperatedly, as Sunstreaker began to howl in pain.
Tracks found himself a nice cozy
place to sit and cry in peace, in the bushes at the back of the
Kindergartener's schoolyard. He wasn't really upset that Sunstreaker
had pushed him -they did that sort of thing often to each other,
unfortunately- but he was furious because once again his “supposed”
friend had called him ugly and said his wings were stupid. Tracks
knew he was different from the other sparklings because of his wings,
but he normally didn't mind, until someone said something awful about
them, shattering the little corvette's confidence. Then he'd get so
angry and hurt that he'd start crying, like he was now.
“S-stupid S-sunstreaker....!,”
he hiccuped, pulling his knees to his chestplates. “I-i-i am
pretty!”
The shaking of branches to his left
followed the sparkling's vehement declaration, startling him.
“W-whose th-there?,” he choked, turning to the sound.
“S-sideswipe, i-if that's you, g-go away! I don't l-like you or
S-sunny right n-now!”
The branches stopped shaking for a
couple astroseconds, before another sparkling was pushing them apart,
stepping into Tracks' little clearing. “Y-you're not
Sideswipe....,” Tracks mumbled, looking up at the other. He was a
mech, about the same size as the corvette, with a navy blue paintjob
and wearing a visor and mask.
For about a klik, they just stared
at each other, before the unknown sparkling was reaching into
subspace and pulling out a little handkerchief. He held it out for
Tracks to take; who, remembering that he had previously been crying,
hurriedly took the offered clothe and wiped at his optics and
cheekplates. “T-thank you.....,” the winged sparkling said, when
he was done. He lifted his arm to give the handkerchief back to the
other mech, but he just shook his helm, silently gesturing for Tracks
to keep it.
“Oh....okay..... T-thank you,
again.” Silence fell between them for a few astroseconds, where
Tracks deliberated what to do next. Eventually, he awkwardly patted
the ground beside him, inviting the blue 'bot to sit with him.
The stranger did so, settling in
quietly beside the corvette.
“....I don't think I've seen you
before,” Tracks commented, resting his chin on his knee joints.
“Are you new?”
The sparkling shook his helm.
“Oh.....,” the other mech
mumbled. His lip components pouted in confusion. “You don't really
talk much, do you?”
A slow nod this time. It fell quiet
again for a few more kliks before the blue sparkling gestured to
Tracks' cheekplates. At the unexpected attention, the small corvette
blushed, touching his face in embarrassment. “Sunstreaker....
he..... he pushed me and said my wings were stupid, ugly sticks,”
he explained to his silent companion. “I....I didn't like what he
said.”
The other mech cocked his helm,
seeming almost offended that the lamborghini twin had made fun of
Tracks. He reached out, gently patting the multi-coloured sparkling
on his helm. Tracks' blush increased at the contact; burying his chin
deeper into his knee joints. “Do.... You think I'm pretty, right?”
Again, the quiet sparkling nodded
his helm.
Beaming in contentment now, Tracks
stretched out his legs, no longer feeling sad and anxious. He wanted
to ask if the blue 'bot wanted to play with him, when suddenly the
school bell rang. Recess was over for the time being. “C'mon!,”
Tracks chirped, scrambling to his pedes. “We've got to go back
now.”
He held out his servo for the other
mech to take, smiling brightly when his quiet companion did so after
a moment. Almost dragging the blue sparkling along, Tracks headed out
from the bush and back to his classmates.
“Hey, do you want to be friends?,”
he asked, as they made their way across the playground.
The second kindergartner seemed
surprised by the proposal. His visor dimmed and flashed -no doubt,
his optics quickly shuttering behind the red glass- before he once
more slowly nodded. Tracks couldn't believe how happy he felt at that
hesitant confirmation. His wings fluttered in his excitement!
“Ah, Tracks; there you are,” the
teacher greeted, as she did her helm count of the sparklings pushing
to get through the door and into their class. “And you've brought
Soundwave along with you. That's good. Just head inside and take your
seats then, boys.”
“So, your name is Soundwave!,”
Tracks noted, turning to face his new friend. Their servos were still
clasped tightly. The corvette smiled brightly, his wings still moving
behind him. “I'm Tracks. We're going to be the best of friends!”
xXxXx
“Oooh.....Primus, yes, there! Aahh!”
The winged mech arched into his
assailant, as denta and glossa nibbled away at his neck cables;
groping servos winding down to his aft. They cupped the heated
plating there, pushing their two codpieces together. Pinned by his
partner to the storage room wall, the more verbal 'bot could only
gasp and moan as his frame was continuously pleasured, waiting for
the moment when the foreplay would stop and the real action would
begin.
So distracted were the two in their
activities that they didn't notice the turning of the doorknob, or
the exasperated sigh that came from the other side of the door. The
sudden brightness of the room though grabbed the winged mech's
attentions.
“Oh....S-Soundwave?,” he gasped,
writhing at a particularly good bite. His partner startled at the
name, lifting his helm and looking at the other 'bot in confusion,
before he turned and took notice of the blue mech standing behind
them in the doorway.
The tapedeck's visor dimmed, and he
lifted the two knapsacks he carried in his left servo. “Order: come
Tracks. Fact: class is about to start.”
“Oh, alright,” the fore-mentioned
corvette sighed, pushing away his stunned companion. “Thanks for
nothing,” he said as he sauntered out of the storage closet,
blowing a kiss to the other mech. Soundwave closed the door after
him, blocking his nameless partner from sight.
“Which class do we have now?,”
Tracks yawned, pulling a pocket mirror from subspace and checking
himself over. When he was sure he looked beautiful, as always, he put
the mirror away before taking his bag back from Soundwave. They
started walking down the hallway, the blue mech slightly leading.
“Destination: History,” his friend
answered. “Status: three kliks before class begins.”
“That much time?,” the corvette
whined. “Slag, Wavey. I could have at least gotten an overload in
that time frame.”
Soundwave wisely did not comment on
that last bit. After having been friends with Tracks for stellar
cycles, the tapedeck had come to accept certain things about the
corvette. Like, his preference to sleep around with any 'bot that
caught his fancy that orn -or that very cycle. Usually, it wasn't
such a concern, but sometimes, Tracks' interfacing habits got in the
way of important things in his life. School, for example. It didn't
help either that almost no one refused the winged mech's offer for an
interface. Why would they? A sexy, talented, drop-dead gorgeous 'bot
like himself?
They'd have to be crazy to even think
of rejecting him!
“Well, I guess that just means you're
diligent,” Tracks commented, as the stretch of silence between them
surpassed a few astroseconds. “You always look out for me, making
sure that I get to school and class on time. Plus, you're a real
Rocky the way you handle those goons that try to jump us! A regular
guardian angel.”
The multi-coloured mech spun around,
quickly pecking the older youngling's cheekvent as he wound his arm
around the other's. “Your the bestest friend a 'bot could ask for,
Soundwave!”
Soundwave did not reply to that
comment. “Inquiry: have you even begun work on your physics
homework?”
Tracks opened his mouth, before closing
it and looking up at the blue mech sheepishly. “No?”
“......”
“Oh, Soundwave! You'll help me,
right?,” he pleaded, pressing tight against his friend's side,
“Pleeeeease?”
The other youngling released a heavy
intake, the only physical sign that his resolve had crumpled.
“Affirmative...,” he muttered, to the joy of his smaller
companion.
xXxXx
Tracks puttered around his small
apartment, humming happily to himself as he set to work. He had
left-overs of a home cooked meal in the microwave, heating up, and
there was a pot on the stove for some cups of hot oil. He had cleaned
the place up last night, and made sure that everything was put away
properly, all for Soundwave's arrival. The two of them were going to
do homework tonight! Which, as previously proven, would mean that
they'd get through a couple pages of work before Tracks managed to
convince his friend that he couldn't sit still doing equations a
nanoklik longer and then they'd spend the rest of the night watching
old video files. The corvette had already pulled his favourite out of
the shelf; Breakfast at Tiffany's. He just couldn't get enough of
those classic romances.
Smiling to himself, Tracks finished
setting the last of his school things on the tiny kitchen table, just
as the doorbell rang. Wings fluttering with excitement, he called out
“Coming!” before quickly checking himself in the full-length
mirror he had installed near the entry way, then unlocking the door.
It opened outwards, revealing Soundwave
on the other side. He looked utterly miserable, having just walked
through a massive downpour from the train stop. “O-oh,” Tracks
smiled wryly, lifting a servo to his lip components as he tried not
to laugh. “C'mon, get in. We'll get you dried off immediately.”
The tapedeck allowed himself to be led
inside by those slender servos, and taken directly to the washrack.
Tracks turned the dryer on, pushing Soundwave before the vents until
he was satisfied his friend was dry enough; shutting the machine
down, and pulling out a can of wax. He held it out questioningly for
the blue mech, who only shook his helm, heading for the washrack
door. “You know, one of these days, I am gonna strap you down and
give you a good wax. Not that you don't look great or anything, but a
little extra glean doesn't hurt,” Tracks commented, following after
Soundwave.
Soundwave merely walked into the
kitchen, pulling his own things from subspace and setting them on the
table besides Tracks'. “Have you eaten?,” the corvette asked,
heading to the stove. His oil had boiled and could now be served.
Pouring it into two mugs, he added a few sprinkles of ground energon
into the black liquid, before giving them both a stir.
“Affirmative,” the tapedeck
replied.
“Awww, that's too bad,” Tracks mock
pouted. “Well, I've put some left-overs in the microwave for
dinner, so if you want any, just say so. Or we can whip up something
else for a snack.”
Soundwave took the mug held out for
him, setting it down on the table.
The multi-coloured mech noticed this.
Confused, he looked up at his friend. “.....you're not going to
drink it?”
The tapedeck slowly shook his helm.
“...You know, once before, you would
have showed me your face if I had asked....,” Tracks mumbled, hurt.
“What's changed?”
Soundwave did not respond.
Sighing, the winged 'bot slipped into
his own seat, grabbing his physics datapad. “So, chapter three....”
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