A/N: Starscream/Megatron. Ficlet. Non-sticky. Tactile. Public messin' around.

Vehicons stood at full attention, helms inclined upward at the holo-display. Maps shuffled and zoomed, areas of importance highlighted in bright neon for all to see. Any conflict popped up in smaller windows, such as a population of humans, perhaps evidence of Autobot meddling, etc.

Soundwave's attention to detail was a great asset to their cause. Though his presentations could be a tad... boring.

Scratch, scratch.

Megatron cut his optics over for the third time during the presentation. The previous two times, his second in command had pulled his servo away and pretended to still be paying attention to Soundwave. This time he was met with a not so innocent smirk and a sharp red gaze.

Starscream kept his talons where they were, resting against the back of his master's leg. Maintaining that suggestive little smirk, he stroked metal plating and let his own optics slide to half-mast. His field was anything but clean.

They'd played this game before. When there was work to be done, Starscream enjoyed being as annoying and salacious of a distraction as he could. By the looks of it, the jet had been recently painted, too. He was all sparkly and new looking.

Not that Starscream was easy to resist otherwise. Attractive wings, slender and agile frame, precious rubies for optics and legs for cycles.

The Decepticon leader's mouthplate curled now to bare sharp dentals, and it was difficult to tell whether it was a threat or a promise. Or a mix of both.

Soundwave powered down his presentation and turned to face the two mechs. It wasn't clear whether or not the communications mech knew what had been going on behind him. Perhaps he did and simply didn't care to waste system power on it. Or perhaps he was secretly a dirty voyeur.

"Excellent, Soundwave," Starscream spoke first, stepping in front of Megatron to give him an optic-full of his enticing backstrut. A little twitch of the wings didn't hurt either.

"I will lead the troops and investigate," the commander continued, swiveling to walk past Megatron and ordering a few drones to meet him on the landing deck.

They shuffled out and Starscream followed, pretending not to hear the heavy pede-steps behind him. He barely reached a corner when a large claw closed around his shoulder armor.

The jet turned to regard his master. "Lord Megatron," he said in faux surprise. "The troops are waiting for me."

As soon as the last word left his mouth, he found himself being backed into a wall. Optics of molten lava peered up into Megatron's hungry gaze. Fields buzzed in aroused tendrils of static.

Megatron still hadn't uttered a word. The air commander flattened his wings against the wall and grinned with denta. Talons clipped up to rest against his leader's broad, shining chest.

"Here?" Starscream asked, low and husky.

"Here," Megatron finally vocalized in a growl, wasting no time in taking his Seeker's mouth.

He pressed Starscream into the wall as both their energy fields lit up. Optics shuttered tight, fans whirred within. The jet nipped at Megatron's mouthplate before yielding to invite glossa inside, and both aerials gave a groan. Large, dark servos slid down around Starscream's lithe frame. One settled at aft, the other at pelvic plating, and a bit of pressure was all it took to get the Seeker to gasp.

"More," Starscream commanded, clawing at Megatron's chest plate and purposely biting roughly at his mouth. Claws dipped between plates to scratch at raw undersides, lush with sensors. Starscream shuddered hard and clung to his master.

The sound of a blipping radar reached their audial receptors, and Starscream opened his optics to see Soundwave standing mere feet away. Dirty voyeur indeed.

Megatron stopped scratching pelvic plating, but did not let go of his dear Seeker.

"Soundwave," he rasped, serious and sounding not at all like he was in the middle of a nice scraping with his second in command. "Lead the troops in Starscream's absence."

With a short nod, the silent mech turned and left them. Starscream watched him go with something of a pout and a suspicious squint. Megatron knew that look but ignored it, instead lowering his mouth to that delicious neck.

"I think—ah— Soundwave does that on purpose," Starscream vocalized just as his master nibbled on a sensitive cable. His hands returned to holding onto Megatron, and he rocked his hips in between those strong servos, asking for more.

Megatron responded with a passive grunt. Knowing well that his denta could pierce that throbbing energon line, he pressed just enough to leave an indentation. A claim to go along with the Decepticon brand he had so long ago marked the Seeker with.

Of course the other 'Cons knew what else such a claim meant. Whether it was seeing Starscream walk around with dents after a punishment or seeing him being manipulated into overload in the halls in plain sight of any mech walking by.

It served as a reminder that no one dared to forget.

A sharp talon slipped under a plate and the jet snarled, grinding, flaring energy field. Megatron kept his mouth against that neck cable, though could not contain a sharp grin. Over the vorns, he'd learn to read the changes in Starscream's energy field with ease.

Audials detected marching pedes around the corner. What perfect timing.

Keeping a servo pressed firmly into the silver jet's crotch, Megatron freed his other to clamp ungently around a fluttering wing.

Starscream's optics snapped wide, intake choking on a series of static gasps. His field jumped and faltered, burning hot and uneven.

"Yes, Starscream," Megatron growled, scratching, pressing, bending metal under his expert touch. "Now..."

The resulting shriek that echoed in the corridors was loud enough to startle any mech from stasis. As for the group that had rounded the corner, well. Perfect timing.