[IDW] Marry Me - Chapter Fifteen
a/n: And now we've reached the end. -wipes tear from eye- I'm almost sad to be done, but it's been a fun ride and I do hope you all enjoyed it!
Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus/Swerve, Rewind, Tailgate, Lost Light Ensemble
Rated M for this chapter for sticky and tactile and spark facing. All of the NSFW
Time passes. Swerve and Magnus grow closer. And then they take the last plunge. All's well that end's well.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - “Here (In Your Arms)," Hellogoodbye
Marry Me - Chapter Fifteen
They spent the next two weeks almost exclusively in one another's company. It was hardly a trial for Ultra Magnus or Minimus, though sometimes the lack of work bothered him. Swerve didn't do anything more than smile when Magnus took a few hours to catch up on some reports and paperwork before devoting the rest of his time to Swerve.
They talked about everything. Any topic they could bring up, nothing too big or too small. They discussed genuine concerns for the future. They discussed living arrangements - Swerve would move in with Ultra Magnus as his habsuite was much larger - and legal measures. First Aid was updated regarding their status as conjunx endura and Ultra Magnus transferred all of Swerve's future disciplinary measures, should any be needed, to Megatron's discretion.
That fact alone, he suspected, meant Swerve would be misbehaving a lot less in the future. Not that Megatron would harm him or offline him if he bent the rules, but Megatron was a lot more intimidating than Ultra Magnus. This fact didn't even upset Magnus anymore. It was hard to compete with a Decepticon warlord for intimidation.
The first time they actually popped their panels to interface, it was as spontaneous as their first tactile overloads. They were snuggled together watching a movie, Minimus still in the Magnus Armor, when snuggling hands turned to wandering hands turned to groping hands.
Swerve's cooling fans were the first to click on, but Ultra Magnus was the first to draw Swerve up to him for a kiss. He cupped an arm under Swerve's aft and held Swerve up against his chassis, sealing their lips together with a kiss that made them both groan. Heat flashed lightning-quick into their energy fields.
Kissing led to more, led to Swerve stroking Ultra Magnus' antennae with his fingertips and Ultra Magnus shaking with need. He licked over Swerve's front vents and moaned when Swerve rocked against him. His field buzzed with desire.
Swerve's panels were the first to click open as he made a muffled sound of embarrassment. He muttered an apology and tried to draw back, but Ultra Magnus made a choice. He hefted Swerve up further and took Swerve's spike into his mouth, glossa lashing at the damp tip and swallowing the entire unit.
Swerve outright shouted and curled over his helm, hips trembling from the effort of keeping himself from thrusting down Ultra Magnus' intake. He spoke, he stammered really, encouragement and gratitude and praise. His vocal response made Ultra Magnus hotter, his own panels threatening to pop.
Magnus' hands curled around Swerve's thighs. He sucked harder, glossa lapping at Swerve's spike and he heard Swerve stammer a warning. Blunt hands grasped at his helm, stroking his antennae, but Magnus didn't back off. He took Swerve as deep as he could manage and was rewarded with Swerve shouting his overload, transfluid spilling over Magnus' glossa and down his intake.
It was hot, Swerve's ex-vents blasting his face and chassis. It was messy, Swerve's transfluid coating his oral cavity and making his lips sticky. It was abrupt and startling, but Ultra Magnus didn't have it in him to be embarrassed. Not as he slowly lowered Swerve back down, except Swerve grabbed him by the head and kissed him. He nipped at Magnus' lips, thrust his glossa into Magnus' mouth, and kissed him as though his spark depended on it.
Both of Magnus' panels popped at once. He wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed.
Swerve looked down and whistled. “Well,” he said with a thick, heated pulse of his field. “That answers that question.”
Despite himself, Ultra Magnus chuckled. “You considered the size of my equipment?”
“Many, many times.” Swerve's faceplate heated. “Of course I'm not the only one. I figured if you were packing, it was proportional.” His glossa swept over his lips. “You wanna, um, you wanna frag me?”
Ultra Magnus' engine revved hard enough to vibrate the berth. “I shouldn't,” he said, but it was barely more than a whisper. His spike throbbed.
Swerve squirmed, shifting down toward his spike, valve dripping lubricant onto the tip as though teasing him. “Yes, yes, you should,” he insisted. Fingers curled around the seams of Magnus' armor as he rocked his hips down, but Magnus' grip on him kept Swerve from sinking onto Magnus' spike.
“I'll hurt you,” Ultra Magnus said.
Swerve shook his head, looking up at him with an optical band brightly lit with arousal. “Not at all,” he said and licked his lips again. “I, um, might have practiced. Just in case. So you won't hurt me. I promise. Can't I make you feel good, too?”
“You could always spike me?” Ultra Magnus suggested and oh, his valve tightened at the thought. He imagined Swerve stroking him sweetly and then sliding into him, giving something for his hungry sensors to latch onto.
“Next time.” Swerve pushed down again, the lip of his valve catching on the head of Magnus' spike. “Right now, though, I want this in me. Please?”
There was something about Swerve being assertive, saying what he wanted, that made it impossible for Ultra Magnus to deny him. He cycled a ventilation.
“You will tell me if I hurt you,” he demanded.
“Of course.” Swerve's intake bobbed. His hands clawed at Ultra Magnus' chest. “I promise. But you won't. I know you won't.”
Primus.
Ultra Magnus tried to calm himself, but the need in Swerve's field was intoxicating. He nodded and lowered Swerve even further, keeping his grip firm on Swerve's hips. Swerve squirmed in his hands and gasped as Ultra Magnus' spike caught the folds of his valve and nosed beyond them.
Ultra Magnus' ventilations hitched as he slipped deeper and deeper into Swerve, valve calipers stretching and rippling around him. Swerve's internal nodes were swollen and they snapped charge at Magnus' receptors. He shivered as his cooling fans ticked into overdrive.
Swerve outright moaned, hands clawing at the air as his spike repressurized in quick succession. There was no pain in his field, only delirious pleasure as Swerve sank down on Ultra Magnus' spike until he felt the head of it nudge against Swerve's ceiling node. Swerve's hips danced, lubricant squeezing out from around Ultra Magnus' spike to dampen his pelvic plating.
“Okay?” Ultra Magnus asked, his thumb stroking Swerve's hip cables.
Swerve nodded with a little humming whimper, one hand dropping to his spike where he squeezed it. “Fine,” he breathed and squirmed. “Move, Magnus. Wanna feel you overload.”
It was impossible to resist, to say no to something that Swerve clearly wanted as much as Ultra Magnus did. He reminded himself, over and over, to be careful. He kept his grip firm, he pushed up into Swerve, swiveling his hips to prolong the pleasure, to ensure that Swerve enjoyed it as much as he did. Ultra Magnus felt himself trembling from withheld charge. His spike throbbed as Swerve's valve hungrily cycled down upon it.
He kept his pace slow and measured, and all it did was ramp up the charge on an exponential level. Magnus' ventilations came faster and faster as Swerve took it upon himself to rise and sink down on Magnus' spike. Pleasure filled Magnus to the brim, cycling higher and higher inside of him, tightening into a coiled spring.
Swerve, too, was panting, his hands dropping to grip Magnus' wrists, his optical band flaring with each thrust. Charge spat and danced over his armor. His valve was hungry and hot and could Magnus really blame himself for succumbing to it? He felt as though he'd been on the edge for weeks.
Overload all but took him by surprise. Magnus gasped, words strangled at the back of his intake, as charge rippled through his frame. He spilled into Swerve, his transfluid joining the mess of lubricant leaking from Swerve's valve.
Swerve threw his helm back, backstrut arching. “Magnus,” he moaned, drawing out the last glyph, and then he shook, following Magnus over. His valve convulsed and his spike spat a thin stream of transfluid. His fingers clenched tightly enough to leave impressions in the thinner metals of Magnus' wrist.
He didn't mind one bit. Not when Swerve's pleasure was so obvious to see.
Swerve made a humming sound deep in his chassis. “So much for waiting,” Swerve murmured. His frame continued to twitch, giving off little zaps of charge.
Ultra Magnus winced, his own frame warm with the last vestiges of overload. “I apologize. I should have been--”
Swerve's valve clenched down. He leaned forward, nuzzling against Magnus' lower frame. “Shhh,” he said. “Don't apologize for that. Dear Primus, don't apologize for that. I'd be a lot happier, instead, if you let me do it again.”
Magnus' internals tightened with want. “We shouldn't,” he said, but his hands were already curling around Swerve once more. His hips had taken a rhythm of their own. He briefly lamented their size difference as he wanted to kiss Swerve and was not flexible enough to do so in their current position.
“Should,” Swerve repeated and he arched his backstrut, valve seeping a mix of transfluid and lubricant, making for quite the mess. “Can't we just focus on what we want instead?”
It was hard to argue with that. Point of fact, Ultra Magnus didn't want to. He wanted to touch Swerve and kiss him and give in to the pleasure they'd been denying themselves all along.
“All right,” Ultra Magnus murmured and he cupped Swerve's face with one hand, his thumb stroking over Swerve's lips. “Let us indulge one another.”
Swerve grinned, a smile that lit up both his faceplate and his field.
It seemed they would get their honeymoon after all.
0o0o0
There were more dates, more talks, more stolen kisses and laughs and times when they gave into temptation.
Eventually, they had to return to their duties. Two weeks was not long enough, according to Swerve. Ultra Magnus had been antsy because he missed his work, but luckily, Swerve patted him on the arm and didn't take it personally.
“It's okay. I understand,” he'd said with a little chuckle and an uptilt of his head, the way he'd learned to request a kiss. “Work, for you, is fun.”
Ultra Magnus had sagged with released tension. Previous partners had not understood that aspect of his personality. Even before the Magnus Armor entered the picture, Minimus Ambus had been a mech devoted to work and the Magnus Armor had only made that easier.
“Thank you,” he'd said and swept Swerve into an embrace and a kiss that prompted his smaller partner to wriggle and laugh and grope at him.
They were almost late for their first shift back.
Rodimus welcomed them with open arms and waggling orbital ridges. Ultra Magnus ignored him. Megatron grunted something that sounded like 'congratulations' but a humor lurked in his red optics. He was probably still smug over the bet he had won, Magnus reasoned.
Then came the not fun part. The part where he and Swerve both had to explain to others that no, they weren't spark-bonded yet. That they didn't truly start dating until they left Exelon Five. That yes, it had been a ruse up until that point, but it was real now. And no, they weren't going to answer those personal questions, thank you very much Whirl.
It really was no one's business but everyone seemed to think it was. Uncomfortable question after uncomfortable question prompted Magnus to make a general statement and forget about the rest.
Eventually, things went back to normal. Well, normal for the Lost Light, and the new normal which was his and Swerve's relationship. Ultra Magnus was rather happy of that particular development.
It meant meeting Swerve for meals and sharing a berth and contacting his partner in the middle of the day just because he could. It was Swerve popping his helm into the bridge just to say hello or Ultra Magnus spending more time in the bar without the purpose of arresting Swerve for every tiny infraction.
That particular job was now Megatron's. Which made it easier for Ultra Magnus to relax and ignore the rule-breaking.
It also meant more time spent as Minimus. He was becoming as comfortable outside the Magnus Armor as he was within it. Swerve never blinked twice when he arrived no matter what shape he was in.
Ultra Magnus adored that about him. He actually adored a lot of things about Swerve. It was becoming increasingly clear that he was in it for the long haul, just like Swerve.
Ultra Magnus had to admit that he liked the sound of that.
0o0o0
For the most part, revealing that it had started as a ruse went over well with the crew. Most of them didn't care enough about Swerve's private life to take it personally. Tailgate squealed, called the whole thing ridiculously romantic, and treated Swerve to a special Tailgate hug.
Seriously, there was nothing in the world quite like a Tailgate hug. He gave the best ones and Swerve did not have a reasonable explanation as to why.
And then there was Rewind, whose reaction Swerve should have expected. He was a bit more practical than Tailgate, always had been, and this Rewind was one who'd lived through a DJD attack. It made him very protective of those close to him.
Rewind stared. Swerve absolutely did not wince.
“Wait.” Rewind held up a hand, looking away for a moment to cycle a ventilation before he looked at Swerve again. “Are you telling me that Ultra Magnus forced you to marry him?”
“No, no.” Swerve shook his head and his hands. “It wasn't like that. It was more like we were required to marry each other. For Rodimus.”
Rewind's visor dimmed. “For Rodimus,” he said flatly.
Swerve couldn't see him frowning, but he suspected that's what Rewind was doing all the same. His field flared with anger, as though he planned to march two decks down and give Ultra Magnus a piece of his mind.
“We could have annulled it. We just didn't want to,” Swerve explained, and there it was again, that giddy smile he couldn't seem to get rid of lately. “Ultra Magnus was willing to give a relationship between us a try and I'm happy, Rewind. I really am.”
Rewind stared at him for a long, long moment. “You're sure?”
“Triply sure.” Swerve let his field loose, highlighting the joy in it. “It started out fake. I was so sure that was all it could ever be. But the more time we spent together, the more real it started to be. Until Ultra Magnus finally admitted that he had feelings for me and we needed to give it a try. Now we're married and if all goes well, we'll stay that way.”
“Hmm.” Rewind leaned back in his chair, for once the light off, proving that he wasn't recording. “Fine. I believe you. I still think it was a slag thing to do.”
Swerve rolled his shoulders. “Well, we had to save Rodimus. And then we had to save our sparks, too. Besides, it wasn't the worst thing that could happen.”
“And it turned out good in the end,” Rewind observed.
Swerve grinned and made no attempt to hide it. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It really did.”
0o0o0
Then there came a time, Ultra Magnus could not pinpoint it exactly but Minimus preferred to be vague as it was more romantic, when Minimus looked at Swerve and realized he could spend the rest of his functioning with Swerve and he'd be happy to do it. They had their disagreements from time to time as all couples did, but they powered through them. Minimus thought that he couldn't think of a single reason to say no, but over two dozen reasons to say yes.
He broached the topic the next time they were alone, when careful manipulation of the schedule ensured that they would share the next two off-shifts together.
Minimus divested himself of the Magnus Armor and pulled Swerve into his arms. He was always filled with happiness when Swerve reached back without hesitation, and the gleam of joy in Swerve's visor was as equal for Ultra Magnus as it was for Minimus Ambus.
“I want to ask you something,” Minimus said. One hand stroked Swerve's face and then rested lightly on the side of his cowling. “Please understand that you are not obligated to agree or that I will not be offended if you refuse. I will know if you are conceding simply to make me happy.”
Swerve leaned into his touch, his hands settling more firmly around Minimus' frame. “Okay,” he said and cycled a ventilation. “Ask.” Not a hint of a stammer or a blush.
Swerve was finally comfortable around Minimus, finally reassured that Minimus wanted to be in his life. He no longer felt as though he had something to prove or worry that Minimus would walk away.
Further evidence that now was the perfect time to ask.
“We are married,” Minimus said and leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. He loved the intimacy of it. “Now I wish to bond with you. I am confident that it is the right choice. I love you, Swerve. And I am ready.”
Swerve's optical band reset. His hands clutched tighter at Minimus. “Are you asking...?”
“If you are ready to bond with me?” Minimus filled in for him. He curved his lips in a smile. “Yes, I am.”
“Yes,” Swerve breathed, and pressed all the closer, their frames so flush Minimus could feel the heat of Swerve's plating and the hum of his idling engine. “I am, too. I love you. Feel like I always have, but I wanted you to be ready and I didn't want to rush and, and...” He paused to cycle a ventilation. “Yes, Minimus. I'm ready to bond with you.”
Minimus smiled and pulled Swerve into a kiss, a gentle, open-mouthed press of their lips. He felt the nudging of Swerve's field against his, seeking to twine together, and Minimus allowed it. It was a pleasure to feel Swerve's love and joy pulsing alongside his own.
“Now?” Minimus asked against Swerve's lips.
Swerve's answer was to open his chestplates, the click and slide of its internal mechanisms erotically loud in the soft silence. Minimus stared down between them as the brilliant white of Swerve's spark came into view, glowing and pulsing with erratic bursts. He felt the cool heat of it against his own frame and Minimus' spark surged forward, eager to meet it.
This would only be the first step toward a spark bond. They would need many, many more mergings to make it permanent. But it was a step Minimus was ready and eager to take.
“Beautiful,” Minimus whispered. He slipped a hand between their frames and delicately stroked around the rim of Swerve's sparkchamber.
Swerve shivered and pushed his chassis toward Minimus. Charge rippled over his armor, lighting up the room. His hands curled around Minimus' frame, grasping onto his hips and holding tight.
“Let me see yours?” he asked, vocals as hushed as Minimus' own.
“Gladly.” Minimus spared a moment of concentration, triggering his panels to open.
Secondary and tertiary armor slid aside, revealing the swirling glow of his green spark. It brightened the space between them, large tendrils already reaching for the white glow of Swerve's spark.
It seemed his spark had known all along what his processor took a while to confirm.
Swerve inched him closer. Minimus leaned in to close the gap between them.
“Ready?” he asked, lips brushing over Swerve's.
“More than,” Swerve breathed.
Their chassis came together with a chime of metal on metal. Minimus felt his spark reach out and Swerve's answer, felt the first tug, and then the flush of pleasure. It wasn't a physical sensation, not like the press of their plating, or the chuffs of Swerve's ventilations, or the touch of Swerve's fingers. But Minimus swore he felt it all the same.
His entire frame tingled. His awareness drew inward, to a sense of self he so rarely touched, and when he looked through it, he could see Swerve on the other side. Smiling, yet insecure. Happy, yet hurting. Bright and bold and beautiful. Minimus reached for him with metaphorical hands and felt Swerve reach back. Swerve's core touched Minimus' own, secrets revealing themselves one by one.
It was not unlike an Earth flower, unfurling itself to the rising sun, Minimus realized. True, it was a romantic thought, perhaps even unlike himself. Maybe that was Swerve's influence; maybe Minimus himself had been romantic all along.
They notched together like two pieces of a puzzle. Pleasure streamed between them, not quite physical or tangible, but a sense of content and belonging. It made Minimus' figurative self smile. It made his physical self pull Swerve all the closer. It made time, the false construct that it was, seem to stop as if waiting.
He felt Swerve's love, bright and deep and enduring. It touched all the aching corners of Minimus' spark, examined them, and accepted them.
It was all Minimus had ever wanted.
There wasn't an overload, not in the physical sense of the word, but there was a bloom of pleasure, of rightness. Minimus felt himself surfacing from the depths of his consciousness. He felt himself again, and no longer the amalgam that involved Swerve.
There was an immediate but brief sense of loss. There on the edge of his spark, he sensed something else. Someone else.
Someone who wasn't himself.
Minimus knew that tiny, fledgling, and near-invisible tether was what connected him to Swerve. The more they merged, the stronger it would become, until not even death could separate them.
Minimus' optics onlined to the sight of Swerve looking back at him, their arms wrapped around each other's frames. Their chestplates had slid back shut, a defense mechanism, but Minimus could still feel the beat of Swerve's spark against his own.
“Wow,” Swerve murmured.
“Indeed.” Minimus pressed their foreheads together. “Thank you, Swerve. I am truly glad to have met you.”
Swerve's fingers tightened around his own. “I feel like I should be thanking you. I mean, I trusted you when you said you loved me, but to actually feel it. I don't think I know the words to describe that. It was amazing.” His optical band shifted toward Minimus. “You really think of me as beautiful.”
“And you like whatever form I take,” Minimus countered with a smile. “We are well-matched.”
Swerve nuzzled against him. “Of course we are.”
Their plating fit together. Their fields hummed in unison. Minimus was happier than he could ever remember being.
So this was what contentment felt like.
0o0o0
Gossip spread quickly. Then again, didn't it always?
Swerve was treated to an outpouring of congratulations, only this time, he could return it sincerely. He couldn't stop smiling either. His face hurt from the effort. That mean he wanted it to stop though.
He was happy. He didn't know he could be this happy.
Rodimus didn't notice. He had to have someone explain it to him, which turned out to be a very smug Megatron who once again, won a bet with his co-captain. Rodimus yelled at him about always being right.
Megatron's laugh scared more than a few Autobots right off the bridge.
Rewind told anyone who would listen their quote-unquote romantic story, complete with visual aids in the form of all the footage he'd shot. He went around interviewing everybody and compiling together a love story the likes of which no one had seen in quite some time.
Wasn't it cute, Rewind was fond of saying, that the only way Ultra Magnus and Swerve managed to get together was to save Rodimus' life. It was both loyal and romantic and twanged the spark strings of everyone who heard it.
Rodimus, of course, took credit for everything. Just like Swerve knew he would.
Truthfully, he and Ultra Magnus didn't mind.
They were together. They were happy. And come the Pit or alien attack or Rodimus' bad luck, they would stay that way.
****
A/n: and that's all folks. Well, no it's not. Stay tuned for a bonus scene epilogue featuring an incredulous Ratchet. ^_^
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/315409.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.
Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus/Swerve, Rewind, Tailgate, Lost Light Ensemble
Rated M for this chapter for sticky and tactile and spark facing. All of the NSFW
Time passes. Swerve and Magnus grow closer. And then they take the last plunge. All's well that end's well.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - “Here (In Your Arms)," Hellogoodbye
Marry Me - Chapter Fifteen
They spent the next two weeks almost exclusively in one another's company. It was hardly a trial for Ultra Magnus or Minimus, though sometimes the lack of work bothered him. Swerve didn't do anything more than smile when Magnus took a few hours to catch up on some reports and paperwork before devoting the rest of his time to Swerve.
They talked about everything. Any topic they could bring up, nothing too big or too small. They discussed genuine concerns for the future. They discussed living arrangements - Swerve would move in with Ultra Magnus as his habsuite was much larger - and legal measures. First Aid was updated regarding their status as conjunx endura and Ultra Magnus transferred all of Swerve's future disciplinary measures, should any be needed, to Megatron's discretion.
That fact alone, he suspected, meant Swerve would be misbehaving a lot less in the future. Not that Megatron would harm him or offline him if he bent the rules, but Megatron was a lot more intimidating than Ultra Magnus. This fact didn't even upset Magnus anymore. It was hard to compete with a Decepticon warlord for intimidation.
The first time they actually popped their panels to interface, it was as spontaneous as their first tactile overloads. They were snuggled together watching a movie, Minimus still in the Magnus Armor, when snuggling hands turned to wandering hands turned to groping hands.
Swerve's cooling fans were the first to click on, but Ultra Magnus was the first to draw Swerve up to him for a kiss. He cupped an arm under Swerve's aft and held Swerve up against his chassis, sealing their lips together with a kiss that made them both groan. Heat flashed lightning-quick into their energy fields.
Kissing led to more, led to Swerve stroking Ultra Magnus' antennae with his fingertips and Ultra Magnus shaking with need. He licked over Swerve's front vents and moaned when Swerve rocked against him. His field buzzed with desire.
Swerve's panels were the first to click open as he made a muffled sound of embarrassment. He muttered an apology and tried to draw back, but Ultra Magnus made a choice. He hefted Swerve up further and took Swerve's spike into his mouth, glossa lashing at the damp tip and swallowing the entire unit.
Swerve outright shouted and curled over his helm, hips trembling from the effort of keeping himself from thrusting down Ultra Magnus' intake. He spoke, he stammered really, encouragement and gratitude and praise. His vocal response made Ultra Magnus hotter, his own panels threatening to pop.
Magnus' hands curled around Swerve's thighs. He sucked harder, glossa lapping at Swerve's spike and he heard Swerve stammer a warning. Blunt hands grasped at his helm, stroking his antennae, but Magnus didn't back off. He took Swerve as deep as he could manage and was rewarded with Swerve shouting his overload, transfluid spilling over Magnus' glossa and down his intake.
It was hot, Swerve's ex-vents blasting his face and chassis. It was messy, Swerve's transfluid coating his oral cavity and making his lips sticky. It was abrupt and startling, but Ultra Magnus didn't have it in him to be embarrassed. Not as he slowly lowered Swerve back down, except Swerve grabbed him by the head and kissed him. He nipped at Magnus' lips, thrust his glossa into Magnus' mouth, and kissed him as though his spark depended on it.
Both of Magnus' panels popped at once. He wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed.
Swerve looked down and whistled. “Well,” he said with a thick, heated pulse of his field. “That answers that question.”
Despite himself, Ultra Magnus chuckled. “You considered the size of my equipment?”
“Many, many times.” Swerve's faceplate heated. “Of course I'm not the only one. I figured if you were packing, it was proportional.” His glossa swept over his lips. “You wanna, um, you wanna frag me?”
Ultra Magnus' engine revved hard enough to vibrate the berth. “I shouldn't,” he said, but it was barely more than a whisper. His spike throbbed.
Swerve squirmed, shifting down toward his spike, valve dripping lubricant onto the tip as though teasing him. “Yes, yes, you should,” he insisted. Fingers curled around the seams of Magnus' armor as he rocked his hips down, but Magnus' grip on him kept Swerve from sinking onto Magnus' spike.
“I'll hurt you,” Ultra Magnus said.
Swerve shook his head, looking up at him with an optical band brightly lit with arousal. “Not at all,” he said and licked his lips again. “I, um, might have practiced. Just in case. So you won't hurt me. I promise. Can't I make you feel good, too?”
“You could always spike me?” Ultra Magnus suggested and oh, his valve tightened at the thought. He imagined Swerve stroking him sweetly and then sliding into him, giving something for his hungry sensors to latch onto.
“Next time.” Swerve pushed down again, the lip of his valve catching on the head of Magnus' spike. “Right now, though, I want this in me. Please?”
There was something about Swerve being assertive, saying what he wanted, that made it impossible for Ultra Magnus to deny him. He cycled a ventilation.
“You will tell me if I hurt you,” he demanded.
“Of course.” Swerve's intake bobbed. His hands clawed at Ultra Magnus' chest. “I promise. But you won't. I know you won't.”
Primus.
Ultra Magnus tried to calm himself, but the need in Swerve's field was intoxicating. He nodded and lowered Swerve even further, keeping his grip firm on Swerve's hips. Swerve squirmed in his hands and gasped as Ultra Magnus' spike caught the folds of his valve and nosed beyond them.
Ultra Magnus' ventilations hitched as he slipped deeper and deeper into Swerve, valve calipers stretching and rippling around him. Swerve's internal nodes were swollen and they snapped charge at Magnus' receptors. He shivered as his cooling fans ticked into overdrive.
Swerve outright moaned, hands clawing at the air as his spike repressurized in quick succession. There was no pain in his field, only delirious pleasure as Swerve sank down on Ultra Magnus' spike until he felt the head of it nudge against Swerve's ceiling node. Swerve's hips danced, lubricant squeezing out from around Ultra Magnus' spike to dampen his pelvic plating.
“Okay?” Ultra Magnus asked, his thumb stroking Swerve's hip cables.
Swerve nodded with a little humming whimper, one hand dropping to his spike where he squeezed it. “Fine,” he breathed and squirmed. “Move, Magnus. Wanna feel you overload.”
It was impossible to resist, to say no to something that Swerve clearly wanted as much as Ultra Magnus did. He reminded himself, over and over, to be careful. He kept his grip firm, he pushed up into Swerve, swiveling his hips to prolong the pleasure, to ensure that Swerve enjoyed it as much as he did. Ultra Magnus felt himself trembling from withheld charge. His spike throbbed as Swerve's valve hungrily cycled down upon it.
He kept his pace slow and measured, and all it did was ramp up the charge on an exponential level. Magnus' ventilations came faster and faster as Swerve took it upon himself to rise and sink down on Magnus' spike. Pleasure filled Magnus to the brim, cycling higher and higher inside of him, tightening into a coiled spring.
Swerve, too, was panting, his hands dropping to grip Magnus' wrists, his optical band flaring with each thrust. Charge spat and danced over his armor. His valve was hungry and hot and could Magnus really blame himself for succumbing to it? He felt as though he'd been on the edge for weeks.
Overload all but took him by surprise. Magnus gasped, words strangled at the back of his intake, as charge rippled through his frame. He spilled into Swerve, his transfluid joining the mess of lubricant leaking from Swerve's valve.
Swerve threw his helm back, backstrut arching. “Magnus,” he moaned, drawing out the last glyph, and then he shook, following Magnus over. His valve convulsed and his spike spat a thin stream of transfluid. His fingers clenched tightly enough to leave impressions in the thinner metals of Magnus' wrist.
He didn't mind one bit. Not when Swerve's pleasure was so obvious to see.
Swerve made a humming sound deep in his chassis. “So much for waiting,” Swerve murmured. His frame continued to twitch, giving off little zaps of charge.
Ultra Magnus winced, his own frame warm with the last vestiges of overload. “I apologize. I should have been--”
Swerve's valve clenched down. He leaned forward, nuzzling against Magnus' lower frame. “Shhh,” he said. “Don't apologize for that. Dear Primus, don't apologize for that. I'd be a lot happier, instead, if you let me do it again.”
Magnus' internals tightened with want. “We shouldn't,” he said, but his hands were already curling around Swerve once more. His hips had taken a rhythm of their own. He briefly lamented their size difference as he wanted to kiss Swerve and was not flexible enough to do so in their current position.
“Should,” Swerve repeated and he arched his backstrut, valve seeping a mix of transfluid and lubricant, making for quite the mess. “Can't we just focus on what we want instead?”
It was hard to argue with that. Point of fact, Ultra Magnus didn't want to. He wanted to touch Swerve and kiss him and give in to the pleasure they'd been denying themselves all along.
“All right,” Ultra Magnus murmured and he cupped Swerve's face with one hand, his thumb stroking over Swerve's lips. “Let us indulge one another.”
Swerve grinned, a smile that lit up both his faceplate and his field.
It seemed they would get their honeymoon after all.
0o0o0
There were more dates, more talks, more stolen kisses and laughs and times when they gave into temptation.
Eventually, they had to return to their duties. Two weeks was not long enough, according to Swerve. Ultra Magnus had been antsy because he missed his work, but luckily, Swerve patted him on the arm and didn't take it personally.
“It's okay. I understand,” he'd said with a little chuckle and an uptilt of his head, the way he'd learned to request a kiss. “Work, for you, is fun.”
Ultra Magnus had sagged with released tension. Previous partners had not understood that aspect of his personality. Even before the Magnus Armor entered the picture, Minimus Ambus had been a mech devoted to work and the Magnus Armor had only made that easier.
“Thank you,” he'd said and swept Swerve into an embrace and a kiss that prompted his smaller partner to wriggle and laugh and grope at him.
They were almost late for their first shift back.
Rodimus welcomed them with open arms and waggling orbital ridges. Ultra Magnus ignored him. Megatron grunted something that sounded like 'congratulations' but a humor lurked in his red optics. He was probably still smug over the bet he had won, Magnus reasoned.
Then came the not fun part. The part where he and Swerve both had to explain to others that no, they weren't spark-bonded yet. That they didn't truly start dating until they left Exelon Five. That yes, it had been a ruse up until that point, but it was real now. And no, they weren't going to answer those personal questions, thank you very much Whirl.
It really was no one's business but everyone seemed to think it was. Uncomfortable question after uncomfortable question prompted Magnus to make a general statement and forget about the rest.
Eventually, things went back to normal. Well, normal for the Lost Light, and the new normal which was his and Swerve's relationship. Ultra Magnus was rather happy of that particular development.
It meant meeting Swerve for meals and sharing a berth and contacting his partner in the middle of the day just because he could. It was Swerve popping his helm into the bridge just to say hello or Ultra Magnus spending more time in the bar without the purpose of arresting Swerve for every tiny infraction.
That particular job was now Megatron's. Which made it easier for Ultra Magnus to relax and ignore the rule-breaking.
It also meant more time spent as Minimus. He was becoming as comfortable outside the Magnus Armor as he was within it. Swerve never blinked twice when he arrived no matter what shape he was in.
Ultra Magnus adored that about him. He actually adored a lot of things about Swerve. It was becoming increasingly clear that he was in it for the long haul, just like Swerve.
Ultra Magnus had to admit that he liked the sound of that.
0o0o0
For the most part, revealing that it had started as a ruse went over well with the crew. Most of them didn't care enough about Swerve's private life to take it personally. Tailgate squealed, called the whole thing ridiculously romantic, and treated Swerve to a special Tailgate hug.
Seriously, there was nothing in the world quite like a Tailgate hug. He gave the best ones and Swerve did not have a reasonable explanation as to why.
And then there was Rewind, whose reaction Swerve should have expected. He was a bit more practical than Tailgate, always had been, and this Rewind was one who'd lived through a DJD attack. It made him very protective of those close to him.
Rewind stared. Swerve absolutely did not wince.
“Wait.” Rewind held up a hand, looking away for a moment to cycle a ventilation before he looked at Swerve again. “Are you telling me that Ultra Magnus forced you to marry him?”
“No, no.” Swerve shook his head and his hands. “It wasn't like that. It was more like we were required to marry each other. For Rodimus.”
Rewind's visor dimmed. “For Rodimus,” he said flatly.
Swerve couldn't see him frowning, but he suspected that's what Rewind was doing all the same. His field flared with anger, as though he planned to march two decks down and give Ultra Magnus a piece of his mind.
“We could have annulled it. We just didn't want to,” Swerve explained, and there it was again, that giddy smile he couldn't seem to get rid of lately. “Ultra Magnus was willing to give a relationship between us a try and I'm happy, Rewind. I really am.”
Rewind stared at him for a long, long moment. “You're sure?”
“Triply sure.” Swerve let his field loose, highlighting the joy in it. “It started out fake. I was so sure that was all it could ever be. But the more time we spent together, the more real it started to be. Until Ultra Magnus finally admitted that he had feelings for me and we needed to give it a try. Now we're married and if all goes well, we'll stay that way.”
“Hmm.” Rewind leaned back in his chair, for once the light off, proving that he wasn't recording. “Fine. I believe you. I still think it was a slag thing to do.”
Swerve rolled his shoulders. “Well, we had to save Rodimus. And then we had to save our sparks, too. Besides, it wasn't the worst thing that could happen.”
“And it turned out good in the end,” Rewind observed.
Swerve grinned and made no attempt to hide it. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It really did.”
0o0o0
Then there came a time, Ultra Magnus could not pinpoint it exactly but Minimus preferred to be vague as it was more romantic, when Minimus looked at Swerve and realized he could spend the rest of his functioning with Swerve and he'd be happy to do it. They had their disagreements from time to time as all couples did, but they powered through them. Minimus thought that he couldn't think of a single reason to say no, but over two dozen reasons to say yes.
He broached the topic the next time they were alone, when careful manipulation of the schedule ensured that they would share the next two off-shifts together.
Minimus divested himself of the Magnus Armor and pulled Swerve into his arms. He was always filled with happiness when Swerve reached back without hesitation, and the gleam of joy in Swerve's visor was as equal for Ultra Magnus as it was for Minimus Ambus.
“I want to ask you something,” Minimus said. One hand stroked Swerve's face and then rested lightly on the side of his cowling. “Please understand that you are not obligated to agree or that I will not be offended if you refuse. I will know if you are conceding simply to make me happy.”
Swerve leaned into his touch, his hands settling more firmly around Minimus' frame. “Okay,” he said and cycled a ventilation. “Ask.” Not a hint of a stammer or a blush.
Swerve was finally comfortable around Minimus, finally reassured that Minimus wanted to be in his life. He no longer felt as though he had something to prove or worry that Minimus would walk away.
Further evidence that now was the perfect time to ask.
“We are married,” Minimus said and leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. He loved the intimacy of it. “Now I wish to bond with you. I am confident that it is the right choice. I love you, Swerve. And I am ready.”
Swerve's optical band reset. His hands clutched tighter at Minimus. “Are you asking...?”
“If you are ready to bond with me?” Minimus filled in for him. He curved his lips in a smile. “Yes, I am.”
“Yes,” Swerve breathed, and pressed all the closer, their frames so flush Minimus could feel the heat of Swerve's plating and the hum of his idling engine. “I am, too. I love you. Feel like I always have, but I wanted you to be ready and I didn't want to rush and, and...” He paused to cycle a ventilation. “Yes, Minimus. I'm ready to bond with you.”
Minimus smiled and pulled Swerve into a kiss, a gentle, open-mouthed press of their lips. He felt the nudging of Swerve's field against his, seeking to twine together, and Minimus allowed it. It was a pleasure to feel Swerve's love and joy pulsing alongside his own.
“Now?” Minimus asked against Swerve's lips.
Swerve's answer was to open his chestplates, the click and slide of its internal mechanisms erotically loud in the soft silence. Minimus stared down between them as the brilliant white of Swerve's spark came into view, glowing and pulsing with erratic bursts. He felt the cool heat of it against his own frame and Minimus' spark surged forward, eager to meet it.
This would only be the first step toward a spark bond. They would need many, many more mergings to make it permanent. But it was a step Minimus was ready and eager to take.
“Beautiful,” Minimus whispered. He slipped a hand between their frames and delicately stroked around the rim of Swerve's sparkchamber.
Swerve shivered and pushed his chassis toward Minimus. Charge rippled over his armor, lighting up the room. His hands curled around Minimus' frame, grasping onto his hips and holding tight.
“Let me see yours?” he asked, vocals as hushed as Minimus' own.
“Gladly.” Minimus spared a moment of concentration, triggering his panels to open.
Secondary and tertiary armor slid aside, revealing the swirling glow of his green spark. It brightened the space between them, large tendrils already reaching for the white glow of Swerve's spark.
It seemed his spark had known all along what his processor took a while to confirm.
Swerve inched him closer. Minimus leaned in to close the gap between them.
“Ready?” he asked, lips brushing over Swerve's.
“More than,” Swerve breathed.
Their chassis came together with a chime of metal on metal. Minimus felt his spark reach out and Swerve's answer, felt the first tug, and then the flush of pleasure. It wasn't a physical sensation, not like the press of their plating, or the chuffs of Swerve's ventilations, or the touch of Swerve's fingers. But Minimus swore he felt it all the same.
His entire frame tingled. His awareness drew inward, to a sense of self he so rarely touched, and when he looked through it, he could see Swerve on the other side. Smiling, yet insecure. Happy, yet hurting. Bright and bold and beautiful. Minimus reached for him with metaphorical hands and felt Swerve reach back. Swerve's core touched Minimus' own, secrets revealing themselves one by one.
It was not unlike an Earth flower, unfurling itself to the rising sun, Minimus realized. True, it was a romantic thought, perhaps even unlike himself. Maybe that was Swerve's influence; maybe Minimus himself had been romantic all along.
They notched together like two pieces of a puzzle. Pleasure streamed between them, not quite physical or tangible, but a sense of content and belonging. It made Minimus' figurative self smile. It made his physical self pull Swerve all the closer. It made time, the false construct that it was, seem to stop as if waiting.
He felt Swerve's love, bright and deep and enduring. It touched all the aching corners of Minimus' spark, examined them, and accepted them.
It was all Minimus had ever wanted.
There wasn't an overload, not in the physical sense of the word, but there was a bloom of pleasure, of rightness. Minimus felt himself surfacing from the depths of his consciousness. He felt himself again, and no longer the amalgam that involved Swerve.
There was an immediate but brief sense of loss. There on the edge of his spark, he sensed something else. Someone else.
Someone who wasn't himself.
Minimus knew that tiny, fledgling, and near-invisible tether was what connected him to Swerve. The more they merged, the stronger it would become, until not even death could separate them.
Minimus' optics onlined to the sight of Swerve looking back at him, their arms wrapped around each other's frames. Their chestplates had slid back shut, a defense mechanism, but Minimus could still feel the beat of Swerve's spark against his own.
“Wow,” Swerve murmured.
“Indeed.” Minimus pressed their foreheads together. “Thank you, Swerve. I am truly glad to have met you.”
Swerve's fingers tightened around his own. “I feel like I should be thanking you. I mean, I trusted you when you said you loved me, but to actually feel it. I don't think I know the words to describe that. It was amazing.” His optical band shifted toward Minimus. “You really think of me as beautiful.”
“And you like whatever form I take,” Minimus countered with a smile. “We are well-matched.”
Swerve nuzzled against him. “Of course we are.”
Their plating fit together. Their fields hummed in unison. Minimus was happier than he could ever remember being.
So this was what contentment felt like.
0o0o0
Gossip spread quickly. Then again, didn't it always?
Swerve was treated to an outpouring of congratulations, only this time, he could return it sincerely. He couldn't stop smiling either. His face hurt from the effort. That mean he wanted it to stop though.
He was happy. He didn't know he could be this happy.
Rodimus didn't notice. He had to have someone explain it to him, which turned out to be a very smug Megatron who once again, won a bet with his co-captain. Rodimus yelled at him about always being right.
Megatron's laugh scared more than a few Autobots right off the bridge.
Rewind told anyone who would listen their quote-unquote romantic story, complete with visual aids in the form of all the footage he'd shot. He went around interviewing everybody and compiling together a love story the likes of which no one had seen in quite some time.
Wasn't it cute, Rewind was fond of saying, that the only way Ultra Magnus and Swerve managed to get together was to save Rodimus' life. It was both loyal and romantic and twanged the spark strings of everyone who heard it.
Rodimus, of course, took credit for everything. Just like Swerve knew he would.
Truthfully, he and Ultra Magnus didn't mind.
They were together. They were happy. And come the Pit or alien attack or Rodimus' bad luck, they would stay that way.
****
A/n: and that's all folks. Well, no it's not. Stay tuned for a bonus scene epilogue featuring an incredulous Ratchet. ^_^
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
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