[IDW] Marry Me - Chapter Eleven
Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Minimus Ambus/Swerve
Rated T for this chapter
The world shifts, feelings are realized, and this farce becomes a little more real for both of them.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - "Accidentally in Love," Counting Crows
Marry Me - Chapter Eleven
He was nervous. Swerve didn't know if he could pinpoint a time he had ever been this nervous. Minimus had asked to kiss him. Minimus had said yes when Swerve invited him inside.
Swerve was vibrating with excitement. He was sure his hands were shaking. He hoped Minimus wasn't paying any attention to the fact that his habsuite was messy. He hoped even more that Minimus hadn't said yes just so they could talk.
Swerve turned to face Minimus and was jolted by the sight of genuine affection in Minimus' optics. His faceplate was warm above his facial insignia, and his hand squeezed Swerve's own.
“Could I, um, could I...?” Swerve couldn't seem to get the words out, they were caught between embarrassment and fear. He wanted Minimus to agree as much as he dreaded that Minimus would let go of his hand.
Minimus seemed to already know what he meant, what he was asking for. Because his free hand cupped Swerve's face and he brought them together, nuzzling their forehelms.
“Yes,” Minimus breathed, ex-vents warm and smelling of the sweet engex they'd had at the party. “Yes.”
They kissed again and Swerve's internals turned to heat and mush. He wrapped an arm around Minimus' waist, trembling all the while. Their lips moved together, as though carefully treading dangerous ground. Their frames came flush, Minimus' heat against his own, and Swerve's cooling fans stuttered to life.
Swerve took a chance and tried for a taste, his glossa flitting against Minimus' lips. No protest emerged, only a soft moan. Minimus leaned against him, deepening the kiss. Swerve's spark pulsed with happiness.
He stumbled backward, and Minimus came with him, until his backplate hit the berth. Swerve's faceplate darkened at the implication, but he didn't want to presume. Whether they stood here and kissed or moved to the berth, it was all good.
Minimus' hands on his frame were more than he could ever asked for. They sent warm tingles of pleasure throughout his lines. Minimus tasted wonderful, his glossa slick and wet against Swerve's own. His facial insignia tickled just like Swerve imagined it would, and he swore he could feel the pulse of Minimus' spark through their chestplates.
Swerve dragged his hands down Minimus' back, exploring the dips and ridges, finding all the places that made Minimus shudder against him. He heard a small moan from Minimus and a jolt of need struck Swerve hard and fast. He broke away from the kiss only to nibble along Minimus' jawline, leaving a string of kisses in his wake.
“Oh,” Minimus was saying, a little purring encouragement. “Mnnhhh.” His hands tightened on Swerve's armor, pulling their frames back together. The scrape-scrape of metal on metal was like music to Swerve's audials.
Swerve didn't wander away long. He returned to Minimus' mouth quickly, tracing Minimus' lips with his glossa and then returning back inside. He felt Minimus' heated ventilations, and moaned aloud as Minimus sucked on his glossa. He imagined that clever mouth on his spike or nibbling at his valve and Swerve's knees wobbled. Heat pooled in his array, and tingles shot through his housings.
Swerve wanted to hoist Minimus up onto the berth and continue this. He didn't care if Minimus splayed beneath him, allowing Swerve to blanket his frame in kisses and touches until Minimus came undone. Or if Minimus preferred to take charge and dictate what he wanted. Swerve had wanted this for so long, he'd take what he could get.
He tightened his hold on Minimus, rocking their frames together, his emotions spilling into both his field and the kiss. Pleasure lit up his sensor net in the wake of Minimus' wandering hands and the tiny noises of pleasure he made. His vocals were so different from Magnus', more a tenor than a bass, but Swerve loved them. They sent shivers down his spinal strut with every cultured word.
Swerve's hands wandered, one of them shaking as they slid down Minimus' back, approaching the curve of his aft. Minimus' plating was oh-so-warm to the touch, soft and smooth as if never dented or scraped. Swerve wanted to kiss him all over, lift him up and make him moan.
Minimus' hand smoothed down his sides, almost tickling, but for the press of his fingertips into Swerve's seams. Static spilled out from where he touched and Swerve shivered. His valve sent ready notices to his processor.
Swerve broke off the kiss to nuzzle against Minimus' face, heated vents escaping him. He opened his mouth to suggest the berth, to take this further, but Minimus beat him to it.
“I should... I should go,” Minimus whispered, his vocals lit with static and his faceplate flushed with heat.
Swerve wanted to whine his disappointment. He looked at Minimus, unable to hide his yearning. “You don't have to.”
“I know.” Minimus stroked the side of his face and Swerve's internals flooded with heat. His spike swelled within his housing, pushing hard at the cover. “But I should.”
Swerve nodded and unwrapped his arms from Minimus' frame, feeling the loss like a pang to his spark. “I understand,” he said.
Minimus withdrew from him, taking the heat of his frame and the pleasant sensation of his field with him. Minimus slid from Swerve's arms and Swerve followed him, his spark a pitter-patter within his chassis.
They had already crossed so many boundaries. Swerve could hardly blame Minimus for leaving. They had discussed none of this. They had broken the rules set by Ultra Magnus. Though Swerve's entire frame was trembling, and he wanted nothing more than to return to the berth with Minimus in his arms, he wouldn't push it.
Minimus' decision to leave was probably the smartest thing either of them had done since he'd agreed to come into the room.
“I had a good time,” Swerve offered, clasping his hands in front of him and hoping the yearning wasn't so obvious in his field. He didn't want to guilt Minimus into staying.
Minimus looked up at him, his optics a deep, deep blue. “As did I. Thank you, Swerve. This was...” He paused and rebooted his vocalizer. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
The door opened and Minimus stepped beyond it. He turned back toward Swerve, fidgeting and uncertain as Swerve had never seen Ultra Magnus before.
“Good night.”
Swerve watched him walk down the hall. He tracked Minimus with his optics, all of those feelings he'd been careful to hide suddenly much stronger than before. He watched Minimus until he was out of sight, and only then did Swerve return to his room.
He was both elated and numb, so surprised by the night's events that a part of him was certain it was a dream. He stumbled toward his berth and climbed back into it. The scent of Minimus' polish was drawn in through his vents. He could still feel the smaller rumble of Minimus' engine against his own, along with the sleekness of Minimus' plating. He'd felt almost fragile to Swerve's hands, a fair difference from the heavy weight of the Magnus Armor.
It was like having two lovers in one.
Swerve groaned and dragged his pillow close, pulling it against his frame. He thought of Ultra Magnus bearing down on top of him, fragging him into the berth. He thought of Minimus cuddling up against him, a slow dance of their frames together, clever fingers diving into his seams.
He thought of coaxing a gentle smile from Ultra Magnus and recalled, again and again, the image captures of Minimus' laugh and his blush.
Swerve offlined his optics and buried his face into the berth. This was everything he wanted, and it wasn't real. He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't real but it was so hard since Minimus had been here. Minimus had kissed him and touched him and revved his engine.
Swerve's panels clicked, lubricant pooled behind them, his spike surging to be free. He imagined how Minimus might touch him. Or Ultra Magnus. And those daydreams were almost painful because it couldn't happen. It wouldn't happen.
Oh, Primus. He was in deep. He was in way too deep. What the frag was he going to do?
0o0o0
It was difficult to think. Harder still to rub two thoughts together. Minimus knew it had nothing to do with the engex. He hadn't consumed nearly enough to impair rational thought.
He should not have done that. He should not have followed a random and wild urge and entered Swerve's habsuite. What was he thinking? Or had he been thinking?
Minimus did not know. It remained hard to focus. His fans were whirring. His spark was swelling. His frame was hot. He shook, his face flushed.
He remembered the feel of Swerve's plating against his fingertips. He recalled the gentle kisses, deep and hungry. A flush of heat seemed to coalesce in his pelvic array, tingling through his interface and sending requests to emerge.
Minimus had to deny them again and again. It was inappropriate. He should not have done that. No matter how much he wanted to - and that in itself was a surprise - he still should not have. It was a bad decision.
He returned to his quarters, which always felt too large without the Magnus Armor on. He glanced at the carefully arranged pile in the corner, but felt little urge to adorn them.
It had been Minimus whom Swerve had kissed. Minimus whom Swerve had invited into his room and touched so nicely.
Minimus wanted to be that mech a little while longer, a mech another had wanted.
He looked down at his own frame and saw streaks of dark blue intermingling with his green and white. Minimus' optics widened in surprise. He'd walked through the halls like this, with marks of Swerve all over his frame. He might as well have shouted to the Lost Light that he'd been up to some inappropriate behavior.
Minimus was ashamed that he'd been in such a state of disarray. But he felt oddly reluctant to wipe them away.
Swerve had been willing to touch him. Not Ultra Magnus, but Minimus Ambus. These paint streaks were proof positive.
Minimus stroked them with his fingertips, a tremble wracking his frame. Oh, Primus. How could he have let things get this far? This was only ever meant to be a ruse. It was not meant to be real.
Minimus powered down the lights and climbed into the berth, one far too large for him. It was sized for Ultra Magnus, not insignificant Minimus. It was empty. It didn't have the warmth of Swerve. There was a longing Minimus could not have expected, a need to return, to finish what they had started.
The heat gathering in his pelvic array supported that desire. Ultra Magnus, as the figure of command he was meant to be, was not prone to intimate relationships. It had been centuries since Minimus had been close to anyone. Now here was Swerve, eager and sweet, and it had taken strength Minimus didn't know he had to pull away. He had to remind himself that not only was it a bad idea, but he was taking advantage of Swerve's affection for him, especially if he wasn't sure of his own feelings on the matter.
His own feelings...
Minimus curled on his side, tucking his arm under his helm. He stared at the wall, spark whirling frenetically and unable to be calmed.
He examined his own feelings on the matter. He did like Swerve. He enjoyed the time they spent together. He had grown an affection for Swerve, one beyond what was required for the benefits of the ruse. This opportunity had enabled him to see what was beyond the surface.
They could no longer continue the way they were. They were fooling the crew and Exelons as much as they were fooling themselves. If they continued this path, there could be consequences. Terrible ones. Not only for themselves, but for Rodimus and the crew.
Minimus could not ignore this. He and Swerve would need to talk. Not later, but now, before they fell too much deeper into this hole.
Steeling himself, Minimus activated his comm and pinged for Swerve. That he received an immediate answer did not surprise him. Swerve sounded eager, hopeful, and Minimus hated to have to crush his happiness.
“We need to talk,” Minimus said quietly.
He all but heard Swerve squirm. “It's kind of late, Minimus,” he hedged, and there was a desperation in his voice, as though he could avoid this discussion and save himself the pain. “We both have work to do tomorrow and--”
“Swerve,” Minimus interrupted gently, understanding what bred Swerve's reluctance. This was something that needed to be done. “It cannot wait.”
There was a long pause before Swerve replied, “I understand.”
“I'll come to you,” Minimus said as he slid off the berth. He made a vague effort to swipe at the paint streaks before deciding it would require more effort than he had time.
This discussion couldn't wait. Steeling himself, Minimus left his habsuite and returned to Swerve's. Thankfully, he did not run into anyone else. It was late enough that no one was wandering the hallways. The only witnesses were those on monitor duty. He pinged Swerve's door for entry and waited, hopefully not fidgeting.
Swerve opened the door and blinked at him. Confusion was etched into his field.
“Is something wrong?” Minimus asked.
Swerve shook his helm. “No. I just thought you'd be back as Ultra Magnus. It's fine. I'm just surprised. And relieved. Come on in.” He gestured for Minimus to come inside.
It hadn't even occurred to Minimus to don the armor first.
He entered Swerve's habsuite and avoided the berth, despite how nice it would have been to climb onto it with Swerve. He selected the chair from the desk Swerve didn't use and sat down in it. Swerve grabbed his own desk chair, giving Minimus a look that did little to hide the dread in his field.
Minimus cycled a ventilation and decided to just dive right in. “We didn't discuss this,” he said and rubbed his hands down his thighs. “We should have discussed it but even I didn't expect things would come to this.”
“Discussed what?” Swerve asked. He tilted his helm to the side, mouth upcurved in a faint, but very fake, grin.
Minimus had seen it before. He knew it enough by now to recognize when Swerve was lying to him.
He shook his helm, using his nearest-to-Magnus frown of disapproval. “Swerve, I know you know what I mean.” He folded his hands together over his knees. “You always have the same look when you lie.”
Swerve stared at him; Minimus stared right back. His spark cycled hard in his chest. He realized, in that moment, what his words truly meant. How much time had he spent watching Swerve to pick up on that? When did he start paying that much attention to Swerve? What did it even mean?
Minimus cycled a ventilation and rubbed a hand down his faceplate. He needed to get this conversation going in the right direction. “I am referring to the physical lines we crossed earlier this evening.”
Swerve's visor cast toward the floor. “Oh,” he said and his hands gripped his knees. “That.”
“Yes.” Minimus performed a systems check and decided there was nothing to do but be direct. “I wish to apologize for it. I should not have allowed things to progress as they did, especially knowing your feelings for me.”
He was particularly ashamed of the last part. He should have known better. He should have been a better mech. It was proof-positive that he was Minimus and not Magnus because Ultra Magnus would not have countenanced such behavior.
“But I let myself get caught up in this ruse,” Minimus continued, rebooting his vocalizer so as to clear the static from it. “I started seeing it as more than an artifice, as something that could potentially be real. It has let me see you in ways I never would have before. And I...”
He paused, letting himself trail off. His hands scrubbed down his thighs again and he was half-afraid to continue except that he felt he owed Swerve this much. He owed Swerve the truth.
“I find myself growing fond of you,” Minimus added. He lifted his gaze, meeting Swerve's and seeing how very surprised the metallurgist was. “I want to spend more time with you. I am enjoying who I am with you and who you are with me. And I... I do not know what it means, save that I am happy to be with you.”
He cycled a ventilation and glanced at Swerve, but the other mech had yet to say a word. His face betrayed nothing, though his field was a chaotic blend of emotion.
“Swerve?”
Swerve shook his head. “I heard you,” he whispered. “I'm just trying to decide if I'm imagining this or not. Because I just.... I rebooted my audials twice and your words aren't changing.”
Minimus tilted his helm. “Because I apologized?”
“No. Because you're saying... you're saying.” Swerve cycled an unsteady ventilation and his fingers tangled together. “You're saying that you like me and I've only ever heard that in my dreams. I never thought it was possible. Now you're apologizing for kissing me and that's the last thing you should apologize for and I... well, I just don't know what to say.”
Understanding dawned. “I meant what I said, Swerve,” Minimus said. “This isn't a dream. I apologize for taking things as far as I did. Especially since we didn't discuss that ahead of time. “
Swerve shook his helm. “You don't have to apologize for that. I want you to kiss me.”
“Perhaps. But I did not know that. It is not right of me to change the terms without prior discussion,” Minimus insisted. “To that end, I would like to discuss it now.”
“Okay.” Swerve cycled a ventilation. “Um, what do you want to know? Other than the obvious?”
Minimus managed a nervous chuckle. “Boundaries,” he clarified. “What are they now?”
Swerve's face turned a dark red. “Um.” His gaze found everything but Minimus' face interesting. “You can kiss me. And t-touch me. And... other things.”
Other things was a distressingly vague term.
“I mean, like what happened earlier,” Swerve continued, “that was fine. I liked that. I want it to happen again. That is, if you want it to,” he was quick to add the last as though Minimus might yell at him for not including it.
“All right.” Minimus nodded. “That seems fair. For your information, I am comfortable with the same. Interfacing, I believe, should be kept off the table. For now.”
“R-right,” Swerve stammered and coughed a ventilation. “Probably for the best. Because it's complicated.”
There really was no better term. This was the epitome of complicated, and they still had Rodimus' fate to worry about.
Minimus cycled a ventilation. “For what it is worth, I still intend to seek permission for certain behaviors. I do not wish to take anything for granted.”
“Whatever you say.” Swerve's fingers tangled together until he released them and rubbed the back of his cowling. “I take it that means you aren't planning on spending the night.”
“I don't think that's a good idea.” Minimus shook his head. “Neither of us are ready for that step.”
“All right.” Swerve smiled but Minimus could read the disappointment in it. “I understand. So, uh, I guess that's goodnight then?”
“It is.” Minimus pushed to his feet and headed for the door. Swerve trailed after him.
“W-Would a goodnight kiss be acceptable?” Swerve asked, his nervousness palpable. It felt like a buzz in his energy field.
Minimus turned and cupped a hand behind Swerve's head, pulling him in for a kiss, another meeting of their mouths and lips and glossa. It was scary how easy it was to kiss Swerve. Minimus wanted to fall into his arms, and take this further.
Minimus forced himself to break the kiss, briefly touch their foreheads, and leave. His spark swelled as he returned to his habsuite, still tingling, still warm. Less confused than the last time he'd left Swerve's, but equally elated.
This was whole new territory. It was as much exhilarating as it was terrifying.
0o0o0
What?
The words repeated over and over in Swerve's helm.
What? What was happening here? What was Minimus really saying? Did he mean it? Was it true?
He slid into recharge with his thoughts a muddled mess, his spark whirling and whirling, and uncertainty the strongest pull in his field. He did not know if he could believe what he heard, but he wanted to believe it. Minimus' confession left him in a daze that didn't quite settle home.
At least, not until the next day.
Ultra Magnus did not meet him at his door for morning energon. Swerve expected this because he knew Magnus had to take the bridge earlier than usual. So he wasn't disappointed.
He thought it might be nice, however, to be the one bringing Ultra Magnus energon for once. Not a full meal, but a little pick-me-up. It was, after all, something that couples did for each other.
Swerve gathered up energon and headed for the bridge, barely noticing who he passed. Some were whispering to each other, probably about him, but given his current state of fogginess, they didn't matter.
It wasn't until he walked onto the bridge and saw Minimus - wearing the Magnus Armor now - standing at the controls that Swerve's knees wobbled. He was as handsome as ever, and his words echoed in the back of Swerve's mind.
I have grown fond of you.
Realization struck like a lightning bolt to his sensor nexus. Swerve sucked in a ventilation, prompting a nearby Blaster to stare at him, but he ignored the look the communications mech gave him.
Swerve's grip around the energon tightened and he pinged Magnus' comm, attracting his attention. Ultra Magnus turned and only those watching him would have seen the twitch of his lips that indicated pleasure. He said something to Hound and approached Swerve, dropping to one knee so that they could talk comfortably.
“This is unusual,” he said.
“Thought it might be nice for a change of pace,” Swerve replied, miraculously not stammering. He offered the cube to Magnus. “I brought this for you.”
“Thank you. I am a bit lower than usual today.” Ultra Magnus took it from him, and when their hands brushed, Swerve felt a jolt that traveled up the entirety of his arm and straight to his spark chamber.
His field spiked with joy before he could contain it.
“You're welcome,” Swerve said. He cycled a ventilation and looked Ultra Magnus right in the optic, pretending he was looking straight through the armor to Minimus beneath. “So,” he continued. “I like you.”
Ultra Magnus cycled his optics. “Yes. We've established that.” Confusion flickered through his field.
It was adorable. For once, Swerve was the one who actually understood what was going on.
“And you like me, too,” Swerve said, though his vocals were softer, so as to prevent the eavesdroppers from catching it.
Ultra Magnus tilted his head and Swerve picked up the moment that Magnus understood what he meant because he was treated to the sight of a genuine, soft Magnus smile. It lit up his energy field like lightning.
“Yes,” Ultra Magnus said, his field reaching for Swerve where his hands could not given their current location. “I do.”
Swerve grinned. His spark fluttered. His field probably turned florescent bright, giving all observers a sight they didn't deserve.
This was real. This was actually real. It made things more complicated because they truly couldn't afford to mess up. They couldn't argue. They couldn't break up. They couldn't be anything but a happy couple skipping merrily toward their wedding day.
But it was real. And it was more than anything Swerve could have ever asked for.
****
a/n: Well that was one of the cutest, fluffiest things I've ever written. :)
I hope you enjoyed! Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated. This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/311339.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.
Characters this chapter: Minimus Ambus/Swerve
Rated T for this chapter
The world shifts, feelings are realized, and this farce becomes a little more real for both of them.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - "Accidentally in Love," Counting Crows
Marry Me - Chapter Eleven
He was nervous. Swerve didn't know if he could pinpoint a time he had ever been this nervous. Minimus had asked to kiss him. Minimus had said yes when Swerve invited him inside.
Swerve was vibrating with excitement. He was sure his hands were shaking. He hoped Minimus wasn't paying any attention to the fact that his habsuite was messy. He hoped even more that Minimus hadn't said yes just so they could talk.
Swerve turned to face Minimus and was jolted by the sight of genuine affection in Minimus' optics. His faceplate was warm above his facial insignia, and his hand squeezed Swerve's own.
“Could I, um, could I...?” Swerve couldn't seem to get the words out, they were caught between embarrassment and fear. He wanted Minimus to agree as much as he dreaded that Minimus would let go of his hand.
Minimus seemed to already know what he meant, what he was asking for. Because his free hand cupped Swerve's face and he brought them together, nuzzling their forehelms.
“Yes,” Minimus breathed, ex-vents warm and smelling of the sweet engex they'd had at the party. “Yes.”
They kissed again and Swerve's internals turned to heat and mush. He wrapped an arm around Minimus' waist, trembling all the while. Their lips moved together, as though carefully treading dangerous ground. Their frames came flush, Minimus' heat against his own, and Swerve's cooling fans stuttered to life.
Swerve took a chance and tried for a taste, his glossa flitting against Minimus' lips. No protest emerged, only a soft moan. Minimus leaned against him, deepening the kiss. Swerve's spark pulsed with happiness.
He stumbled backward, and Minimus came with him, until his backplate hit the berth. Swerve's faceplate darkened at the implication, but he didn't want to presume. Whether they stood here and kissed or moved to the berth, it was all good.
Minimus' hands on his frame were more than he could ever asked for. They sent warm tingles of pleasure throughout his lines. Minimus tasted wonderful, his glossa slick and wet against Swerve's own. His facial insignia tickled just like Swerve imagined it would, and he swore he could feel the pulse of Minimus' spark through their chestplates.
Swerve dragged his hands down Minimus' back, exploring the dips and ridges, finding all the places that made Minimus shudder against him. He heard a small moan from Minimus and a jolt of need struck Swerve hard and fast. He broke away from the kiss only to nibble along Minimus' jawline, leaving a string of kisses in his wake.
“Oh,” Minimus was saying, a little purring encouragement. “Mnnhhh.” His hands tightened on Swerve's armor, pulling their frames back together. The scrape-scrape of metal on metal was like music to Swerve's audials.
Swerve didn't wander away long. He returned to Minimus' mouth quickly, tracing Minimus' lips with his glossa and then returning back inside. He felt Minimus' heated ventilations, and moaned aloud as Minimus sucked on his glossa. He imagined that clever mouth on his spike or nibbling at his valve and Swerve's knees wobbled. Heat pooled in his array, and tingles shot through his housings.
Swerve wanted to hoist Minimus up onto the berth and continue this. He didn't care if Minimus splayed beneath him, allowing Swerve to blanket his frame in kisses and touches until Minimus came undone. Or if Minimus preferred to take charge and dictate what he wanted. Swerve had wanted this for so long, he'd take what he could get.
He tightened his hold on Minimus, rocking their frames together, his emotions spilling into both his field and the kiss. Pleasure lit up his sensor net in the wake of Minimus' wandering hands and the tiny noises of pleasure he made. His vocals were so different from Magnus', more a tenor than a bass, but Swerve loved them. They sent shivers down his spinal strut with every cultured word.
Swerve's hands wandered, one of them shaking as they slid down Minimus' back, approaching the curve of his aft. Minimus' plating was oh-so-warm to the touch, soft and smooth as if never dented or scraped. Swerve wanted to kiss him all over, lift him up and make him moan.
Minimus' hand smoothed down his sides, almost tickling, but for the press of his fingertips into Swerve's seams. Static spilled out from where he touched and Swerve shivered. His valve sent ready notices to his processor.
Swerve broke off the kiss to nuzzle against Minimus' face, heated vents escaping him. He opened his mouth to suggest the berth, to take this further, but Minimus beat him to it.
“I should... I should go,” Minimus whispered, his vocals lit with static and his faceplate flushed with heat.
Swerve wanted to whine his disappointment. He looked at Minimus, unable to hide his yearning. “You don't have to.”
“I know.” Minimus stroked the side of his face and Swerve's internals flooded with heat. His spike swelled within his housing, pushing hard at the cover. “But I should.”
Swerve nodded and unwrapped his arms from Minimus' frame, feeling the loss like a pang to his spark. “I understand,” he said.
Minimus withdrew from him, taking the heat of his frame and the pleasant sensation of his field with him. Minimus slid from Swerve's arms and Swerve followed him, his spark a pitter-patter within his chassis.
They had already crossed so many boundaries. Swerve could hardly blame Minimus for leaving. They had discussed none of this. They had broken the rules set by Ultra Magnus. Though Swerve's entire frame was trembling, and he wanted nothing more than to return to the berth with Minimus in his arms, he wouldn't push it.
Minimus' decision to leave was probably the smartest thing either of them had done since he'd agreed to come into the room.
“I had a good time,” Swerve offered, clasping his hands in front of him and hoping the yearning wasn't so obvious in his field. He didn't want to guilt Minimus into staying.
Minimus looked up at him, his optics a deep, deep blue. “As did I. Thank you, Swerve. This was...” He paused and rebooted his vocalizer. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
The door opened and Minimus stepped beyond it. He turned back toward Swerve, fidgeting and uncertain as Swerve had never seen Ultra Magnus before.
“Good night.”
Swerve watched him walk down the hall. He tracked Minimus with his optics, all of those feelings he'd been careful to hide suddenly much stronger than before. He watched Minimus until he was out of sight, and only then did Swerve return to his room.
He was both elated and numb, so surprised by the night's events that a part of him was certain it was a dream. He stumbled toward his berth and climbed back into it. The scent of Minimus' polish was drawn in through his vents. He could still feel the smaller rumble of Minimus' engine against his own, along with the sleekness of Minimus' plating. He'd felt almost fragile to Swerve's hands, a fair difference from the heavy weight of the Magnus Armor.
It was like having two lovers in one.
Swerve groaned and dragged his pillow close, pulling it against his frame. He thought of Ultra Magnus bearing down on top of him, fragging him into the berth. He thought of Minimus cuddling up against him, a slow dance of their frames together, clever fingers diving into his seams.
He thought of coaxing a gentle smile from Ultra Magnus and recalled, again and again, the image captures of Minimus' laugh and his blush.
Swerve offlined his optics and buried his face into the berth. This was everything he wanted, and it wasn't real. He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't real but it was so hard since Minimus had been here. Minimus had kissed him and touched him and revved his engine.
Swerve's panels clicked, lubricant pooled behind them, his spike surging to be free. He imagined how Minimus might touch him. Or Ultra Magnus. And those daydreams were almost painful because it couldn't happen. It wouldn't happen.
Oh, Primus. He was in deep. He was in way too deep. What the frag was he going to do?
0o0o0
It was difficult to think. Harder still to rub two thoughts together. Minimus knew it had nothing to do with the engex. He hadn't consumed nearly enough to impair rational thought.
He should not have done that. He should not have followed a random and wild urge and entered Swerve's habsuite. What was he thinking? Or had he been thinking?
Minimus did not know. It remained hard to focus. His fans were whirring. His spark was swelling. His frame was hot. He shook, his face flushed.
He remembered the feel of Swerve's plating against his fingertips. He recalled the gentle kisses, deep and hungry. A flush of heat seemed to coalesce in his pelvic array, tingling through his interface and sending requests to emerge.
Minimus had to deny them again and again. It was inappropriate. He should not have done that. No matter how much he wanted to - and that in itself was a surprise - he still should not have. It was a bad decision.
He returned to his quarters, which always felt too large without the Magnus Armor on. He glanced at the carefully arranged pile in the corner, but felt little urge to adorn them.
It had been Minimus whom Swerve had kissed. Minimus whom Swerve had invited into his room and touched so nicely.
Minimus wanted to be that mech a little while longer, a mech another had wanted.
He looked down at his own frame and saw streaks of dark blue intermingling with his green and white. Minimus' optics widened in surprise. He'd walked through the halls like this, with marks of Swerve all over his frame. He might as well have shouted to the Lost Light that he'd been up to some inappropriate behavior.
Minimus was ashamed that he'd been in such a state of disarray. But he felt oddly reluctant to wipe them away.
Swerve had been willing to touch him. Not Ultra Magnus, but Minimus Ambus. These paint streaks were proof positive.
Minimus stroked them with his fingertips, a tremble wracking his frame. Oh, Primus. How could he have let things get this far? This was only ever meant to be a ruse. It was not meant to be real.
Minimus powered down the lights and climbed into the berth, one far too large for him. It was sized for Ultra Magnus, not insignificant Minimus. It was empty. It didn't have the warmth of Swerve. There was a longing Minimus could not have expected, a need to return, to finish what they had started.
The heat gathering in his pelvic array supported that desire. Ultra Magnus, as the figure of command he was meant to be, was not prone to intimate relationships. It had been centuries since Minimus had been close to anyone. Now here was Swerve, eager and sweet, and it had taken strength Minimus didn't know he had to pull away. He had to remind himself that not only was it a bad idea, but he was taking advantage of Swerve's affection for him, especially if he wasn't sure of his own feelings on the matter.
His own feelings...
Minimus curled on his side, tucking his arm under his helm. He stared at the wall, spark whirling frenetically and unable to be calmed.
He examined his own feelings on the matter. He did like Swerve. He enjoyed the time they spent together. He had grown an affection for Swerve, one beyond what was required for the benefits of the ruse. This opportunity had enabled him to see what was beyond the surface.
They could no longer continue the way they were. They were fooling the crew and Exelons as much as they were fooling themselves. If they continued this path, there could be consequences. Terrible ones. Not only for themselves, but for Rodimus and the crew.
Minimus could not ignore this. He and Swerve would need to talk. Not later, but now, before they fell too much deeper into this hole.
Steeling himself, Minimus activated his comm and pinged for Swerve. That he received an immediate answer did not surprise him. Swerve sounded eager, hopeful, and Minimus hated to have to crush his happiness.
“We need to talk,” Minimus said quietly.
He all but heard Swerve squirm. “It's kind of late, Minimus,” he hedged, and there was a desperation in his voice, as though he could avoid this discussion and save himself the pain. “We both have work to do tomorrow and--”
“Swerve,” Minimus interrupted gently, understanding what bred Swerve's reluctance. This was something that needed to be done. “It cannot wait.”
There was a long pause before Swerve replied, “I understand.”
“I'll come to you,” Minimus said as he slid off the berth. He made a vague effort to swipe at the paint streaks before deciding it would require more effort than he had time.
This discussion couldn't wait. Steeling himself, Minimus left his habsuite and returned to Swerve's. Thankfully, he did not run into anyone else. It was late enough that no one was wandering the hallways. The only witnesses were those on monitor duty. He pinged Swerve's door for entry and waited, hopefully not fidgeting.
Swerve opened the door and blinked at him. Confusion was etched into his field.
“Is something wrong?” Minimus asked.
Swerve shook his helm. “No. I just thought you'd be back as Ultra Magnus. It's fine. I'm just surprised. And relieved. Come on in.” He gestured for Minimus to come inside.
It hadn't even occurred to Minimus to don the armor first.
He entered Swerve's habsuite and avoided the berth, despite how nice it would have been to climb onto it with Swerve. He selected the chair from the desk Swerve didn't use and sat down in it. Swerve grabbed his own desk chair, giving Minimus a look that did little to hide the dread in his field.
Minimus cycled a ventilation and decided to just dive right in. “We didn't discuss this,” he said and rubbed his hands down his thighs. “We should have discussed it but even I didn't expect things would come to this.”
“Discussed what?” Swerve asked. He tilted his helm to the side, mouth upcurved in a faint, but very fake, grin.
Minimus had seen it before. He knew it enough by now to recognize when Swerve was lying to him.
He shook his helm, using his nearest-to-Magnus frown of disapproval. “Swerve, I know you know what I mean.” He folded his hands together over his knees. “You always have the same look when you lie.”
Swerve stared at him; Minimus stared right back. His spark cycled hard in his chest. He realized, in that moment, what his words truly meant. How much time had he spent watching Swerve to pick up on that? When did he start paying that much attention to Swerve? What did it even mean?
Minimus cycled a ventilation and rubbed a hand down his faceplate. He needed to get this conversation going in the right direction. “I am referring to the physical lines we crossed earlier this evening.”
Swerve's visor cast toward the floor. “Oh,” he said and his hands gripped his knees. “That.”
“Yes.” Minimus performed a systems check and decided there was nothing to do but be direct. “I wish to apologize for it. I should not have allowed things to progress as they did, especially knowing your feelings for me.”
He was particularly ashamed of the last part. He should have known better. He should have been a better mech. It was proof-positive that he was Minimus and not Magnus because Ultra Magnus would not have countenanced such behavior.
“But I let myself get caught up in this ruse,” Minimus continued, rebooting his vocalizer so as to clear the static from it. “I started seeing it as more than an artifice, as something that could potentially be real. It has let me see you in ways I never would have before. And I...”
He paused, letting himself trail off. His hands scrubbed down his thighs again and he was half-afraid to continue except that he felt he owed Swerve this much. He owed Swerve the truth.
“I find myself growing fond of you,” Minimus added. He lifted his gaze, meeting Swerve's and seeing how very surprised the metallurgist was. “I want to spend more time with you. I am enjoying who I am with you and who you are with me. And I... I do not know what it means, save that I am happy to be with you.”
He cycled a ventilation and glanced at Swerve, but the other mech had yet to say a word. His face betrayed nothing, though his field was a chaotic blend of emotion.
“Swerve?”
Swerve shook his head. “I heard you,” he whispered. “I'm just trying to decide if I'm imagining this or not. Because I just.... I rebooted my audials twice and your words aren't changing.”
Minimus tilted his helm. “Because I apologized?”
“No. Because you're saying... you're saying.” Swerve cycled an unsteady ventilation and his fingers tangled together. “You're saying that you like me and I've only ever heard that in my dreams. I never thought it was possible. Now you're apologizing for kissing me and that's the last thing you should apologize for and I... well, I just don't know what to say.”
Understanding dawned. “I meant what I said, Swerve,” Minimus said. “This isn't a dream. I apologize for taking things as far as I did. Especially since we didn't discuss that ahead of time. “
Swerve shook his helm. “You don't have to apologize for that. I want you to kiss me.”
“Perhaps. But I did not know that. It is not right of me to change the terms without prior discussion,” Minimus insisted. “To that end, I would like to discuss it now.”
“Okay.” Swerve cycled a ventilation. “Um, what do you want to know? Other than the obvious?”
Minimus managed a nervous chuckle. “Boundaries,” he clarified. “What are they now?”
Swerve's face turned a dark red. “Um.” His gaze found everything but Minimus' face interesting. “You can kiss me. And t-touch me. And... other things.”
Other things was a distressingly vague term.
“I mean, like what happened earlier,” Swerve continued, “that was fine. I liked that. I want it to happen again. That is, if you want it to,” he was quick to add the last as though Minimus might yell at him for not including it.
“All right.” Minimus nodded. “That seems fair. For your information, I am comfortable with the same. Interfacing, I believe, should be kept off the table. For now.”
“R-right,” Swerve stammered and coughed a ventilation. “Probably for the best. Because it's complicated.”
There really was no better term. This was the epitome of complicated, and they still had Rodimus' fate to worry about.
Minimus cycled a ventilation. “For what it is worth, I still intend to seek permission for certain behaviors. I do not wish to take anything for granted.”
“Whatever you say.” Swerve's fingers tangled together until he released them and rubbed the back of his cowling. “I take it that means you aren't planning on spending the night.”
“I don't think that's a good idea.” Minimus shook his head. “Neither of us are ready for that step.”
“All right.” Swerve smiled but Minimus could read the disappointment in it. “I understand. So, uh, I guess that's goodnight then?”
“It is.” Minimus pushed to his feet and headed for the door. Swerve trailed after him.
“W-Would a goodnight kiss be acceptable?” Swerve asked, his nervousness palpable. It felt like a buzz in his energy field.
Minimus turned and cupped a hand behind Swerve's head, pulling him in for a kiss, another meeting of their mouths and lips and glossa. It was scary how easy it was to kiss Swerve. Minimus wanted to fall into his arms, and take this further.
Minimus forced himself to break the kiss, briefly touch their foreheads, and leave. His spark swelled as he returned to his habsuite, still tingling, still warm. Less confused than the last time he'd left Swerve's, but equally elated.
This was whole new territory. It was as much exhilarating as it was terrifying.
0o0o0
What?
The words repeated over and over in Swerve's helm.
What? What was happening here? What was Minimus really saying? Did he mean it? Was it true?
He slid into recharge with his thoughts a muddled mess, his spark whirling and whirling, and uncertainty the strongest pull in his field. He did not know if he could believe what he heard, but he wanted to believe it. Minimus' confession left him in a daze that didn't quite settle home.
At least, not until the next day.
Ultra Magnus did not meet him at his door for morning energon. Swerve expected this because he knew Magnus had to take the bridge earlier than usual. So he wasn't disappointed.
He thought it might be nice, however, to be the one bringing Ultra Magnus energon for once. Not a full meal, but a little pick-me-up. It was, after all, something that couples did for each other.
Swerve gathered up energon and headed for the bridge, barely noticing who he passed. Some were whispering to each other, probably about him, but given his current state of fogginess, they didn't matter.
It wasn't until he walked onto the bridge and saw Minimus - wearing the Magnus Armor now - standing at the controls that Swerve's knees wobbled. He was as handsome as ever, and his words echoed in the back of Swerve's mind.
I have grown fond of you.
Realization struck like a lightning bolt to his sensor nexus. Swerve sucked in a ventilation, prompting a nearby Blaster to stare at him, but he ignored the look the communications mech gave him.
Swerve's grip around the energon tightened and he pinged Magnus' comm, attracting his attention. Ultra Magnus turned and only those watching him would have seen the twitch of his lips that indicated pleasure. He said something to Hound and approached Swerve, dropping to one knee so that they could talk comfortably.
“This is unusual,” he said.
“Thought it might be nice for a change of pace,” Swerve replied, miraculously not stammering. He offered the cube to Magnus. “I brought this for you.”
“Thank you. I am a bit lower than usual today.” Ultra Magnus took it from him, and when their hands brushed, Swerve felt a jolt that traveled up the entirety of his arm and straight to his spark chamber.
His field spiked with joy before he could contain it.
“You're welcome,” Swerve said. He cycled a ventilation and looked Ultra Magnus right in the optic, pretending he was looking straight through the armor to Minimus beneath. “So,” he continued. “I like you.”
Ultra Magnus cycled his optics. “Yes. We've established that.” Confusion flickered through his field.
It was adorable. For once, Swerve was the one who actually understood what was going on.
“And you like me, too,” Swerve said, though his vocals were softer, so as to prevent the eavesdroppers from catching it.
Ultra Magnus tilted his head and Swerve picked up the moment that Magnus understood what he meant because he was treated to the sight of a genuine, soft Magnus smile. It lit up his energy field like lightning.
“Yes,” Ultra Magnus said, his field reaching for Swerve where his hands could not given their current location. “I do.”
Swerve grinned. His spark fluttered. His field probably turned florescent bright, giving all observers a sight they didn't deserve.
This was real. This was actually real. It made things more complicated because they truly couldn't afford to mess up. They couldn't argue. They couldn't break up. They couldn't be anything but a happy couple skipping merrily toward their wedding day.
But it was real. And it was more than anything Swerve could have ever asked for.
****
a/n: Well that was one of the cutest, fluffiest things I've ever written. :)
I hope you enjoyed! Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated. This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/311339.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.