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"Thundercracker's request: perverse."
Soundwave said it, and he meant it. Shame heated his processors just at having received the request in question, knowing as he did that Thundercracker had asked him specifically for a very particular reason.
"Humans do this, too," Thundercracker argued, somehow shuffling even closer. He was embracing Soundwave from the side, very nearly in his lap - he'd pinged Soundwave for a meeting in his berthroom, minus the cassettes, and though Soundwave didn't consider himself uniquely close with him, the couple interfaces they'd shared had been pleasant enough. He'd arrived anticipating another sweet, slower-paced session, where Thundercracker would occasionally leak annoyance about his more frequent partners but never voice it aloud, and Soundwave would supply the doting and the gentleness that Thundercracker was so starved for. Little indeed did he know. "And they've actually got the baggage about it."
"'Motherhood': functionally synonymous with carrier status," Soundwave pointed out, using one of the various terms that had spilled over Thundercracker's firewalls in all his excitement and want. "Soundwave: likewise possessing 'baggage'."
"And you're so good at it," Thundercracker mumbled, and Soundwave fought not to meet his optics. The overwhelming barrage of want-want-want-want-want-want-want-want assaulting his thoughts from Thundercracker's direction totaled together with his pleading optics was too much to bear.
"Thundercracker's firewalls: underperforming," Soundwave said finally, and felt a touch of contrition join that psychic begging before Thundercracker did his best to wrestle it back. It was only incrementally better, but better enough that he could, at least, think for himself again. He felt Thundercracker trace the pane of his empty tape deck with a gentle servo, and sensed that he, too, was fighting to get a handle on his thoughts.
"I just… learned the term," he explained. "And I instantly thought of you. And you're always real sweet when I come around for a 'face, and you take such good care of your cassettes. I thought you'd be a perfect, uh, mom."
It wasn't the term he wanted to say, Soundwave noted. Each utterance of the word mom had exploded straight out of his processor accompanied by more terms, some complex associations but most often just a simple diminuitive; "Mommy". It was a juvenile synonym, Soundwave intuited, and apparently, to humans, that much more taboo for it.
And damn him, because it made him think back to before his cassettes had unanimously started to refer to him as boss and they'd each had their own cute little diminuitives for him, from Buzzsaw's particular, inarticulate trill to Rumble's "Soso!" even to Ravage's "Youngspark". Ravage was older than him, wasn't even his sparkling, yet even their early relationship prompted these nostalgic - Soundwave searched for the right term - maternal feelings in him.
Would he have been more amenable to this if Thundercracker had asked to call him Soso? No, that thought disturbed him all the more. But it had given him a certain melancholy to realize none of his sparklings would ever let him dote the way they had when they were new, to wonder if this need he felt could only be sated by having more. Was he truly so selfish to think his existing ones weren't enough?
Here was Thundercracker, offering to satisfy that need he felt, and all Soundwave had to do was permit a certain term for the duration of their interface. His spark stirred a little. So did his array.
"Thundercracker," he said hesitantly, "… may refer to Soundwave… as Mommy."
Thundercracker vented shakily outward. Soundwave might have taken it as relief, if not for the surge of sympathetic charge that rushed to his groin.
"Mo… mom," Thundercracker rasped, and Soundwave understood then that it hadn't been taboo alone that had kept him from saying what he truly wished - he ought have realized that much sooner, as taboo hadn't kept Thundercracker from saying any other part of his pitch. When he managed a faltering "Mommy?", the feedback Soundwave experienced from Thundercracker's own arousal was astonishing.
Soundwave gave him a brief nod of approval. That, too, pleased Thundercracker, but Soundwave knew well enough that he wanted more - though he wasn't so singularly focused that Soundwave could guess it from his thoughts without pressing a little, the way he had when Thundercracker had yearned to call him Mommy. "Query: Appropriate behavior as 'Mommy'?"
"Like what," Thundercracker asked, but went on before Soundwave could answer; "Um, you can… hug me? Hold me. And kiss… uh, pretend to kiss, my helm, or my cheek…"
Thundercracker paused to steel himself and to search his memory, giving Soundwave a moment to consider his own feelings. Thundercracker was a trustworthy mech, he decided, and withdrew his facial shield, not having to lean far before he could grant Thundercracker's latest request. He could feel Thundercracker's cheek warm with lively energon against his own sensitive derma, alongside another jolt of charge merely at being permitted to see the lower half of Soundwave's face.
"Further requests?" Soundwave put forward. "Appropriate designation for Thundercracker, as Mommy?"
His partner was quiet. Soundwave tried not to intrude too far into Thundercracker's mind - it was the kinder thing, when so much trust was already being placed in him. "Thundercracker's fine," he said quietly, but relented easily enough when Soundwave let a ripple of dissatisfaction cross his EM field. "Well, I'd be your sparkling… or, uh, humans call them babies?"
"Sparkling," Soundwave tested him. Then, "Baby."
Thundercracker liked 'sparkling' better.
Soundwave rewarded his forthcomingness with another kiss, this time to his helm. Thundercracker may well have been taller than him, but not so much so that it was difficult to reach - certainly not huddled as close to Soundwave as he was. "Sparkling," Soundwave whispered to him, predominantly to feel that shudder of his all over again. "Soundwave's… my sparkling."
"Scrap," Thundercracker vented, and at Soundwave's brief admonishment he managed something of a laugh. Something nudged just at the border of Thundercracker's thoughts, and he paused - Soundwave realized he was reviewing a memory. One that bridged, rather quickly, into an idea - a longing.
Hesitantly, he spoke, and Soundwave raised his own firewalls to savor the air of surprise. "Mommy," Thundercracker managed, took in a vent, and blurted, "It - it hurts."
No, it didn't. Thundercracker hadn't been in any pain before he'd raised the firewall, and inching it downward didn't reveal any pain either. Soundwave's own memory banks flitted to his sparklings' youths, to how frantic he'd always been about tears he couldn't recognize the cause for before he'd eventually learned how very often newsparks cried just to receive their carrier's attention and reassurance. The thought amused him, and he quickly had to remind himself that his facial shield was disengaged before Thundercracker caught on to his mirth.
"Query: where?"
Another deep vent. Thundercracker gently grasped Soundwave's servo and guided it to his codpiece.
"It… hurts?" Thundercracker repeated, and Soundwave was charmed despite himself. What a dreadful mockery of a sparkling's naivete - it was, in its own way, precious indeed.
"Soundwave: requires a closer look," he played along. "Request: expose spike housing."
Thundercracker put up none of the resistance any of Soundwave's cassettes would have at such a request - his panel snapped back with a vengeance, and his spike pressurized with a tantalizing hiss. Embarrassment peaked past his EM field at having pressurized so quickly, but Thundercracker didn't put a voice to it, and Soundwave withheld his commentary. Instead he made a show of inspecting Thundercracker's spike, with servos as well as optics.
This involved him running gentle digits up and around it, from the pulsing blue head to the steel-gray base, testing every last biolight studded up the underside, tracing every overlap of silken protoform. At length, Soundwave stilled his servo and announced, "Spike: lacking outward anomalies. Pain: persisting?"
"N-no," Thundercracker shuddered, then rushed to correct himself. "Yeah. Yeah, Mommy, it still hurts."
"Coding: functional?"
Thundercracker shifted, yearning, Soundwave sensed, for friction. "System check says I'm good," he mumbled.
"Query," Soundwave hummed, drawing his servo torturously slowly down Thundercracker's straining spike. "Does this hurt?"
"No! That helps."
"Solution: simple." He circled Thundercracker's spike in servo, beginning to tug at last. "Mommy: will demonstrate for sparkling how best to resolve discomfort. Instruction: watch closely."
"'Kay," Thundercracker huffed, doing his best to comply. He was always a little shy in berth with him, and moreso with this particular fetish being entertained; it made it quite pleasurable indeed to have an excuse to demand that he keep from covering his faceplate. He did curl into Soundwave as best he could while entertaining the instruction, though, and there was something precious to how he kept one optic trained downward while the other pressed closed against his shoulder. The vulnerability of it all, and how eager he was to please… it almost did touch the same spots in him as those maternal feelings did.
Then, Thundercracker's servos started scrabbling at the pane of Soundwave's tape deck. "M… Mommy," he said, and stopped, too embarrassed to continue, and Soundwave gently probed at his mind.
"Sparkling: desiring access to Mommy's deck?"
A halting nod. Soundwave had to pause to consider it; Thundercracker's needful whine was delicious, but his deck was a very intimate place, and one paramount to his relationship with his true sparklings and with Ravage. If this entire scenario was perverse, then to grant Thundercracker access to that most sacred of places was doubly so.
But every astrosecond that Soundwave hesitated, Thundercracker unconsciously hit him with more need, more self-doubt, more uncertainty. Those firewalls of his were fully bust, surely, with all that emotional feedback straining at Soundwave's senses.
He kissed the side of Thundercracker's helm again, buying himself another astrosecond to brace himself. "… gently," he requested, out of character both for himself and as Mommy; Thundercracker responded only with a soft caress of that pane, in the moments it took for Soundwave to finally lift his servo to his shoulder where the eject trigger was.
"Thank you," Thundercracker whispered, with enough reverence that Soundwave knew he appreciated just how vulnerable this made him feel. It earned him another kiss. And another, and a shudder when Thundercracker softly traced the outermost corners of his deck with his thumb.
It wasn't exactly sensitive for him. His cassettes got up to all manner of mischief in there - if Soundwave went jolting awake every time they shuffled inside him, he'd never have gotten an astrosecond's worth of recharge in the millions of years since he'd met Ravage. Even so, the intimacy of it set him shuddering.
He was Mommy right now, though. It was not his to lose himself to the scenario at hand.
Soundwave returned to servicing Thundercracker's spike, and Thundercracker took a moment just to grip at the pane again. Then he relaxed into it and traced a little deeper, feeling around inside Soundwave's casing, probing gently at the spigots where Soundwave shared his energon with his cassettes.
Soundwave sighed, long and low. Thundercracker's servo retreated. "Sorry."
"Contrition: unncessary," Soundwave countered. He smiled into Thundercracker's helm, circling a digit about the tip of his spike and feeling the beginnings of transfluid leaking out to lubricate the way. "Sensation: welcome."
Mingled feelings of pride and curiosity met him, and Thundercracker thumbed at the spigots again. He depressed one, just a bit, and shifted in Soundwave's lap - such as he was - as surprise spiked through his EM field. When he withdrew his servo, Soundwave saw that some energon had leaked out onto his digit.
It wouldn't have been enough to dispense any of the energon reserved for his cassettes, he was sure. Depressing the sensor must have ejected whatever had lingered in the spigot after the last feeding.
All the same, Thundercracker shuddered with charge, his vents hitching at the revelation. His optics flickered to meet Soundwave's as he lifted the digit to his intake, hesitating just at the cusp of tasting it.
He was waiting for permission, Soundwave registered, and that revelation gave him a rush of gratitude. "Sparkling: low fuel?" he rumbled, and concealed his amusement at how Thundercracker's spike twitched in his grip. "Mommy's energon: appropriate for sparkling's satisfaction."
"Yeah," Thundercracker mumbled, sounding utterly breathless. He sucked his digit into his intake. He sucked it with a longing that much more crushing than all that came prior, curling into Soundwave's shoulder with a sustained moan, bordering on a cry, bordering on a sob.
"It's for you," Soundwave reassured him, the harried pounding of his spark drowning out that impulse that existed within him, that need to speak in a certain order. "All for you, sparkling."
Thundercracker's servo jetted out before he seemed to remember Soundwave's plea for gentleness - he fumbled inside his casing, slower but not quite slow, looking for another spigot, another meager mouthful of his cassettes' leftovers. He found what he sought and brought his digits back to his intake, sucking them each with a fervor that made Soundwave nearly as dizzy as him. He licked down to his palm, savoring every last drop, and crooned with happiness, wings flicking behind him.
Thundercracker was hungrier for his unique build and for the scenario than for him, Soundwave knew, but he still couldn't quite help the odd trill of pride that found him when Thundercracker overloaded with a stammered "Mommy" on his derma. He curled into him so sweetly that in spite of the lewdness of it all, Soundwave truly did imagine that Thundercracker was one of his sparklings. He was weak all over, clinging to him shamelessly, just as though he were a newspark.
There was a newness to him then, a freshness. It was quite a bit like the kinds of releases Thundercracker came to him for so often, only more. Soundwave stroked his helm through the comedown, resisting the urge to coo.
Thundercracker emerged back into himself at last - Soundwave could feel the moment his thoughts regained order just as he heard the audible "phew!" Thundercracker smiled softly, kissing him back at last - on the cheek and on the chin, quite as though despite Soundwave's having retracted his facial shield, Thundercracker was not yet used to there being lips present to kiss.
"Thanks so much," Thundercracker beamed. Terribly sweet. "I'm really glad I got to try that."
"Soundwave: pleased to oblige." He hesitated, then added, "Soundwave: came to enjoy the names."
"Yeah?" A touch of relief wobbled its way into Thundercracker's EM. "Hey, anything I can do for you? As a treat? Since you went that far for me. We can stop with the Mommy stuff, just… whatever you want."
Soundwave hesitated that much longer. He felt Thundercracker's optics on him and reflexively closed his facial shield, but tried to refrain from drawing his EM field in too close. It wasn't quite fair, was it, him having an open window into Thundercracker's psyche and not the other way around? Only reasonable to let him have a small hint of his own.
A thought buzzed around his processor. It tugged on his spark. It tightened every last energon line in his body.
"Thundercracker," Soundwave began, halting all the way, "may assist… with gestational fueling. If he wishes."
There was a beat. Thundercracker rolled the request around in his processor. Insistently.
"Wait - you're sparked?! Like, right now?!"
"Negative," Soundwave struggled. Thundercracker's earlier embarrassment had long since faded, but Soundwave empathized with it all that much harder now. "Soundwave: wishes to…"
It took another moment, but fortunately, when it came, Thundercracker's response was merciful. "Oh, you wanna roleplay like you are. Yeah, I can do that for you." He tucked an arm around Soundwave's shoulders, kissing him a couple times. "It's been awhile since you had one, huh? Do you miss it?"
Like a severed limb. Soundwave would be loath to admit as much, though. He was a dutiful soldier and carrier, and he would not unlock the line of code which permitted conception until the war was good and done. No matter how much he longed to.
"I should probably stop calling you Mommy for this part, huh," Thundercracker mused.
Before he could stop himself, Soundwave rebutted. "Negative. Thundercracker: may continue."
It was perverse. Deeply perverse. Perverse in the extreme.
Yet Thundercracker only sighed. "Ooh. You're gonna get me pressurized again… No, lemme, um. Lemme take care of you a little bit, first."
"Sparklings: do not tend to their mothers," Soundwave objected, yet permitted Thundercracker's guiding him down onto the berth. "Mommy's duty: to tend to sparklings."
"Sparklings should do a little tending as they get older," Thundercracker countered. When Soundwave was fully reclined, he reached up for some pillows. "Lift your hips - they should help out, especially when Mommy's carrying a sibling for 'em."
Soundwave did as he was told, puzzling quietly over Thundercracker's intent as he slid the pillows under his rear. Thundercracker must have caught the quizzical buzz in his field, because he was quick to explain.
"We're fueling the sparkling, right? Don't wanna let any of that fuel drip out." He stroked Soundwave's midsection caringly, and for a moment the gentle look of his optics was unbearable. "I want the bitlet as well-fed as possible. He's gotta get nice and strong, and then we can protect Mommy together."
Thundercracker's imagination was… formidable. That care in his optics was easily replicated in his field, just as if he truly were the expecting sire of a brand-new life. No, actually, moreso - most gestational fuelings Soundwave had undergone had been rather more businesslike exchanges than sentimental ones, even when he'd been expecting Laserbeak with Megatron. Megatron had never made a point of preserving the donations of transfluid - rather, Soundwave supposed, leaked fuelings just meant more stress relief sooner rather than later.
His spark pulsed. His valve gushed.
Thundercracker had hardly so much as lowered his servo to Soundwave's modesty panel before it retracted. He chuckled, "Ah, read my mind again."
No, Soundwave thought inwardly. But he'd happily let Thundercracker believe as much.
Thundercracker thumbed at Soundwave's node, and then he traced a loose circle just inside his entrance. When Soundwave half-consciously rippled his calipers, Thundercracker seemed to take it as a greeting; "Hi," he cutely whispered back. He knelt and leaned upward, kissing Soundwave's mask before retreating and sinking between his thighs.
Relax, Soundwave commanded himself. This, too, was a business transaction. The only difference, if one existed, was the proficiency of the service.
And he did have it on his own authority that Thundercracker's mouth was quite proficient indeed. Perhaps not quite so technically proficient as his sneering trinemate (Starscream. Soundwave hadn't the experience with Skywarp, and for that matter he did not desire it. Watching one mech pick so many fights, and lose so many fights, against his various sparklings had a way of souring the attraction), but the worshipful optics Thundercracker always seemed to regard him with easily made up the difference. Soundwave was more than wet enough for his spike already, yes, but Thundercracker delved into sensitive mesh with no complaints.
The pillows… Soundwave couldn't decide if they'd been a good idea. It was a little more awkward on his shoulders and neck, but he was gathering this slow, slow helmrush that seemed to make every firm, wet lap of Thundercracker's glossa draw into eternity.
For a few kliks, that was enough. He laid back, each pulse of his spark seeming to hit harder at the insides of its casing, and gave himself over to Thundercracker's indulgence. The empathic feedback, as always, made it that much better - and better even, for the fact that Thundercracker seemed to savor his valve as much as Soundwave savored his mouth. He felt glimpses of finest mesh against his derma just as though he were kissing Thundercracker's valve in turn, that divine softness dancing on his own glossa. He very nearly licked the inside of his facial mask, so lost was he in it all, and had to fight back a small rush of embarrassment he was certain Thundercracker would have caught in his field.
Echoes of his own long-dormant carrier protocols nudged at him. Thundercracker's glossa was lovely, but it was not what he - what his sparkling - what they needed.
"Thunder - Sparkling," Soundwave corrected himself, trembling, "your spike."
Thundercracker raised his head, licking absentmindedly at his lips. However little Soundwave understood wingspeak, the quick downward drop to them seemed to imply fluster. "Right. Almost forgot - sorry, Mommy."
It'd been time enough for Thundercracker's spike to re-pressurize, and Soundwave welcomed the glint of blue biolights from between their legs as he climbed his frame. Thundercracker eclipsed him in gentle arms, softening that discomfort Soundwave had briefly registered in his helm and neck. He nuzzled Soundwave's facial shield and Soundwave retracted it without thinking, only realizing afterward that he might have protected some dignity by keeping it.
The kiss was worth it. Slow, but needful. It satisfied that buzzing Soundwave's empathic experience of his own valve had alit in him and then some. Thundercracker licked so sweetly at his glossa, coming and going in rhythmic waves.
He stroked down Soundwave's side, and then to his core, and Soundwave believed him. He believed that he was thinking in awe and in worship of a life they'd forged together.
"Comfy?" Thundercracker rasped, and at Soundwave's affirmative, he grasped his own spike at the base and began to guide it home. "Okay…"
They were of compatible sizes, and Soundwave was wet. They fit together so immaculately that Soundwave almost wished that the friction were greater, thinking briefly of Megatron, but that crush of sincerest affection out of Thundercracker quickly quelled that desire. Thundercracker kissed him again, laid his servo on Soundwave's hip, and began to rock into him.
Yes. Oh, yes.
"You're amazing," Thundercracker mumbled. "Mommy. You're so amazing…"
He was still Mommy. There yet remained a need, almost an instinct, to coddle Thundercracker right back. Soundwave embraced him, their arms fitting together so very well, and held him - held him - held him, warmth and affection overwhelming him every bit as much as the nudges to his ceiling node.
"Sparkling," Soundwave murmured back, "Good. Superior."
For some time, Soundwave had pitied those without his build. How cruel, he thought, to give other mechs the capacity to carry sparklings without the equipment to hold them, shield them, so completely as he was able? That greatest, kindest, sweetest of all intimacy… that capacity to complete one another.
This, he thought. This experience was how they compensated.
Another kiss shared. Another roll of hips. Another hiss of vents. And inside him, huddled deeper even than his cassettes could reach, another part of Thundercracker curled warmly inside his forge.
He withdrew one arm from Thundercracker's shoulders and felt at his abdomen. The bitlet could sense its sire, he was certain. It was comforted, wasn't it? That he was so near. That a mech so kind cared so dearly for it.
"Bitlet: content," Soundwave shared, and Thundercracker whimpered. "Pleased at proximity to sire."
Soundwave felt Thundercracker's field expand by a touch, and pondered for a moment as to why. They were already so close to one another.
But Thundercracker stroked Soundwave's midsection, and a flash of thought passed from one to the other, and Soundwave realized he was sharing his feelings - affection, contentment, comfort - with a sparkling that did not exist. His vents seized, and he lifted his hips, suddenly desperate.
"Whoa," Thundercracker gasped, but adjusted, picking up the pace to match Soundwave's sudden, voracious need. He retreated a little and Soundwave might well have admonished him for it, but it was to adjust his angle and begin thrusting rather than grinding.
That was good. Soundwave bit his derma around a moan, but the effort was wasted - hot, needful sounds began filling his berthroom before long. Soundwave planted one pede and started bucking into Thundercracker's thrusts, and the movement alone set his sensors aflame but so too did the clash of spike casing against his anterior node.
"Mom - Mommy, mom -"
Thundercracker was chanting that word now, high and ventless and so very, sincerely wanting. Soundwave puffed and smiled, and called right back.
"Sparkling," he begged. "Please."
Thundercracker was close. He was clinging to it, fighting to withhold it, but it was escaping him. Soundwave lowered a servo to help himself along, pinching and flicking at his node and leaning hard into Thundercracker's inner mind. He wasn't thinking of anything at all, nothing but Mommy and valve, so there was no incriminating thought for Soundwave to stumble upon there; just a joint collapse into a simultaneous overload.
It was a beautiful little thing, mingling there together. Mingling in a world where they were closer than close and feeding their shared creation, quietly amazed that they'd achieved such a miracle.
It was a cruel endeavor indeed to force himself back out. When Soundwave felt his own panels underneath servos that weren't his, he felt a longing like he'd very seldom felt - but it was not the kind thing, to muddle around in his partner's mind for so long. So he left.
His vents fought to cool him. Thundercracker was blazing hot, collapsed on top of him.
"Thundercracker: requiring coolant," Soundwave observed.
"So're you," Thundercracker mumbled back. He laid there for a long moment, and then his vents hitched before he rose at last. "Okay. Same place?"
"Affirmative."
"Kay." He slowly left the berth, and Soundwave was nearly grateful for how it lessened the empathic heaviness settled over him. Nearly.
Without Thundercracker's arm cushioning his neck, Soundwave was newly reminded of his position. He felt a little silly, suddenly - yet it was also somewhat nice, for once, not to instantly have so many fluids draining from him post-interface.
They did come when he forced himself to sit up, though. It broke the illusion, whatever lingered of it; his forge was closed, and there was no mechanism hungrily drinking up the transfluid.
Thundercracker returned with a cube for them both, and sat heavily on the edge of the berth as they both nursed their coolant. The atmosphere… it was odd.
"Thank you," Soundwave tried. Thundercracker smiled.
"You liked it?" At his affirmative, he said, "We can do that anytime you want."
That… was better.
Even still, Soundwave sensed a restlessness in his partner. So much of their coupling had been plagued by Thundercracker's poor control of his firewalls, yet now they seemed so stalwart, so firm.
It was tempting to push. But no, Soundwave was not so thoughtless as that. Besides - the overwhelming sense he had then was that Thundercracker's restlessness was synonymous with a desperation to leave Soundwave's company. It wasn't a sense based in any concrete reality, but Soundwave could hardly help the sinking feeling in his spark.
Thundercracker finished his coolant. He held out a servo, considerate as ever, and Soundwave passed over his own empty cube, watching Thundercracker rise.
"I'll take 'em back to the mess," he promised. With a parting look, he hesitated on the threshold. "Um, Soundwave… if…"
He stopped short, not meeting Soundwave's visor. An insistent thought, a tender thought, tapped insistently at the other side of his firewall, and Thundercracker heavily ex-vented, seemingly resigned.
… a small nudge, then. Just a peek.
The helmrush came straight back.
"Thundercracker," Soundwave reset his vocalizer, "will be considered as sire. At the appropriate time."
And what a small, kind, gentle smile that was, that met those words. "See you," Thundercracker said softly, and that wonderful little smile lingered longer than he did.
Soundwave's mind was perfectly, bizarrely blank. Then, he sank on the spot. Hesitantly, at a loss for what else he might decide to do, he sought his cassettes through their bond. They welcomed his return in their own ways, adjusting to that brief intrusion as quickly as ever.
Ooh, Rumble spoke up. Soso's in trouble!
Shut up, Rumble, Frenzy responded in kind, and Soundwave resisted a chuckle.
With a vent inward and a slide of his facial shield, he pushed himself back into business as usual - plus or minus a happy thrill the next time he saw Thundercracker, and a mess of teasing from his cassettes.