He’d been told they were gorgeous. That their feathers shone, their colors were bright and alluring, their smiles were blinding, and their beauty unmatched.
Soundwave only knew the scent of them, and the sound of their voices. And the feel of them in his Nest, soft and warm and pliant.
Of the two, Sideswipe was the most vocal, the one more willing to say what he wanted. He favored his antrum and mewled so prettily when Soundwave tasted him. He offered encouragement and gratitude, hands careful as they grasped at Soundwave’s shoulders in eager request for more.
Sunstreaker, by contrast, spoke without words, his talons guiding where he wanted Soundwave the most, often leaving scratches behind. He was aggressive in his demands, drawing blood on occasion. And it was he who clung the tightest at night, who felt safest beneath the bulk of Soundwave and Sideswipe both.
Soundwave had never seen either of them. He didn’t know if they were beautiful, and from the one time they both tensed when he murmured the compliment, he suspected that beauty had always been part of the problem.
So he appreciated them for the things he did know.
Sideswipe laughter and Sunstreaker’s quiet chuckles.
How they teased one another, and held patient conversations with Frenzy and Rumble.
How Sunstreaker sat quietly beside Soundwave, close enough to share heat. And how Sideswipe happily dumped himself in Soundwave’s lap to steal a kiss.
In those moments, to Soundwave, they were most beautiful.