Swindle's admissions prompt a sharp buzz of satisfaction; this is exactly what he was hoping to hear. This is ammunition against him, a way to control him. Maybe something more, a small part of him adds, but he suppresses it.
He has a moment's doubt, wondering if he's being played in a similar way to the way he plays others. But he knows what Swindle is capable of, and that kind of deception really isn't it.
Still, it's worth keeping his guard up. While he'll accept a connection from Swindle, he won't be sending any data until he's certain that he's not being manipulated. And he won't plug in until Swindle has begged him to.
For the first time since before the Spare Parts Incident, Vortex finds himself hoping that there might just be a way to strengthen the team. Provided Swindle can be trusted.
But he won't open the bond. Not yet. Not ever, he corrects himself, and the thought is simultaneously aspirational and horrifying. He wants to, with a sharp and aching need that only gets worse as he tries to distract himself from it, but that would leave him vulnerable. He won't expose himself to that.
Not now, at any rate.
//I can't,// he lies. But it is a lie he thinks (hopes) that Swindle will interpret in a particular way: a social lie, between lovers; a small indication of weakness to elicit sympathy, and to encourage the other to go that extra mile.
To reinforce the message, he makes the connection, tensing for a moment against the barrage of new data, then sighs into it, leaning down to nibble lightly on Swindle's lower lip.
A disappointment and sense of failure flashes through Swindle at the copter's words ....this is fragged; I'm too late .... but it is completely overridden almost straight away by the feel of his connector sliding into the copter's port.
Swindle stiffens and gasps, drowning first in pure sensation and then in sheer wanting as his team mate slides him home, the feeling of being so much where he has wanted to be for so long almost overwhelming him. Then he feels the copter's mouth on his and his body tries to buck towards the connection, straining up as he longs for the moist warmth of the whole of the copter's mouth on his, longs to touch him, stroke him, wrap himself around and swamp him with every indication of how much the copter means that he can muster.
But he can't do any of that - so he stuggles, frantically arching to kiss him as he tries to pull free, writhing and mouthing incoherent words, the only deciperable one being: "Vortex ....
Most of all, Swindle wants to drown he copter across the bond in a massive show of contrition and desire.
He can't - but the connection is in, deep, whole, and Swindle's sensor net fires as he pulses energy through, thrusting it in, his field flaring as his systems charge fiercely. He shutters optics and strains, his hands clenched, pulsing harder, adding as much wanting and appreciation and love type data to the barrage as he possibly can.
The response is more than he expected. The shock of new data and the inrush of energy drive up his core temperature. His main rotors quiver, and he struggles to draw in enough cool air.
//Frag.// He's impressed, and he fails at not showing it. This is a side to Swindle that he'd never anticipated, and never - he realises - bothered to go looking for. A shudder wracks his every system, charge building far faster than he thought possible, and he leans into the kiss, his free hand moving in proprietory caress over Swindle's throat.
And as for the more emotive element. It shocks him, but it also intrigues him. It's something he's never been capable of, nor has he ever wanted to be. It's an interesting weakness, but it's so very gratifying to be on the receiving end, and the gratification translates as arousal.
Nothing could have the effect of escalating Swindle's charge faster than the copter's obvious arousal. Everything - the heat radiating, the frame shuddering and - most of all - the rotors quivering exquisitely like that - send impulses roaring over every synapse, his sensor net on fire as heat pours through and his circuits swell with rising charge.
The copter's mouth is on his - hard, hungry - and that hand glides over his throat, powerful, beautiful, capable of so much damage but not doing it, its converse gentleness and possiveness thrilling to the core, a clear message that Vortex wants him, that he, Swindle, is wanted by his team mate, his beautiful team mate who he has wanted like this for so long. Swindle whimpers, snaking his glossa into Vortex's mouth, as he strains upward and pulses hard.
He manages to get out, his voice frantic and fraught: // Vortex .... this is fantastic ..... you're fantastic .... I've wanted this so much ..... you don't know how much \\ unable to halt the words and meaning it all - earnestly - desperately - as another burst of emotion sends him pumping harder in a fresh flurry of frantic need.
Swindle is turned on almost to delerium. If he stops, the charge will soar instantly and he'll blow straight away. It'll happen anyway, but for now he's determined to fire the copter harder, to pleasure him, and in turn fuel his own arousal. He gains a little control and intakes deeply, rhythmically, pumping the energy in, shuddering and increasing the bolts in depth and strength, sending each one penetrating as far into Vortex as he possibly can with as much feeling and - love - as the connection will allow.
//You can keep that up,// he says, meaning everything: the words, the current, the data, keep talking, keep wanting, keep struggling just a little and not getting anywhere at all.
He would add 'for as long as you like', but the fortnight since he last interfaced seems like forever, and he finds himself pressing closer, kissing deeper, falling into the sensation and not bothering to claw himself back out, actively rejecting the thought that this is the mech who once sold them, who he tried and failed to kill, who he has good reason to utterly despise.
Because that thought also comes with the feeling that this is justice, this is retribution. He is in control, he is larger, heavier, stronger. One small movement of his hand, and he could tear the cables from Swindle's throat. One savage bite, and he could rip out his glossa.
But he doesn't. And he doesn't want to. The revenge he has in Swindle's submission, in his adoration, is so much better than anything he could gain by force.
Here and now, he has control, and the opportunity to keep it. It's the chance to bind Swindle to him - to them - to forge something better and stronger for the team.
His rotors shudder violently, and a burst of static issues from the comm. The overload is harsh and fast, and utterly, gloriously worthwhile.
Swindle feels the mouth on his, the probing glossa, the hand, the hard body bearing down, a mass of quivering rotors and raw power. He smells unburned fuel, tastes the richness of the alloys, feels the copter's burning closeness and exults in being the object of it.
Under his team mate, the smaller Combaticon's frame shudders violently, his hands clutching, body arching, his field flaring wildly as every circuit frizzles in searing heat. The charge peaks as the pulses surge out of him, deeper, stronger, penetrating further, everything nearing a crescendo to converge in one headlong rush when Vortex goes over.
He pumps, seething, burning up, to hover right on the brink - willing the copter to realease, so badly needing to receive him and wishing in a rush of thoughts that the copter was plugged in, and that the bond was open, but he isn't and it isn't and it doesn't really matter because Oh by primus this is happening and its going to be absolutely fragging brilliant even without that ....
And then Vortex blows. Raw, blinding energy crashes over every part of Swindle's already overcharged self with devastating force. He screams, his body going rigid as his loaded systems are filled and purged. He pauses, freezing, absorbing, shuddering, just clinging to online-ness, a moment of suspension and weightlessness like in space - before all his residual energy gathers in a solid mass to explode back through the connection.
A great mass of emotion - all Swindle's need and deep wanting for it to be this way and adoration for his team mate - rushes through too, the ethereal mingling with the physical in one so much needed, so long awaited release.
He heaves for air, the shock of Swindle's overload slamming through him, overpowering the aftershocks of his own. Then everything blinks out, just for a moment; his elbow servos give way, and he slumps with his chin on Swindle's shoulder, one hand on the top of Swindle's helm, the other still gripping his wrists, but more lightly now, his thumb moving in a tired caress.
His rotors spin slowly, moving the air around, although it doesn't make it any less warm. Thunder can just be heard over the roar of his - and Swindle's - cooling fans, and a torrent of rain beats against the roof.
//Mmmmmmmm...// he says, and it's unclear whether or not he meant to say anything more.
Swindle intakes deeply, feeling his own aftershocks fall into sync with the copter's. Then Vortex slumps on him, heavy - almost to the point of crushing - but Swindle does not want to move. It's like an offline vision - being here like this - and he's afraid if he alters anything he will wake up and find it isn't real.
He lays there, the sigh of the copter's intakes mingling with the sound of the rain, a strange mixture of happiness merging with almost overwhelming emotion. Everything that has happened lately, this now being so close to Vortex, so much what he wanted for so long and thought he could not possibly have - it's almost too much. Memories of the past float through his processor, of before the box, before all that - of Onslaught and Brawl and Blast Off and he and Vortex in days when the copter did not hate him. Some memory of their being on a roof together, flits in and passes. Swindle's frame shudders lightly as emotion overcomes him, a single tear making its way slowly down his cheek.
Shaking from the strength of his feelings, Swindle excricates his hands and slowly wraps his arms around his team mate's neck, gently stroking at the back of his head. Shuttering his optics he draws him close, simply whispering: // Vortex \\ as the final waves of overload pass over and out.
He fails to notice everything except Swindle's touch, and the information still travelling through the connection.
The low charge warning which had begun to make itself known a while back starts to ping again. He turns it off, but anything more seems like far too much effort.
Swindle says out loud: "Just thinking about the old days," controlling his emotions and pulling himself together, because he does not want Vortex to know that he has got like that.
But there's a new dilemma. The copter's crushing weight is upon him, inhibiting his intake system, and he can't feel his left foot because the pressure on his hip is blocking the sensory relays. He tries to rearrange himself beneath Vortex, but it makes no difference to the discomfort. Yet he does not want his team mate to move, relishing his warmth, and the closeness, and the feel of him being there like that.
So Swindle puts up with it, squirming a little more. Until his HUD starts flashing, warning him of the need for replenishment. Turning his head, he espies the bag of energon cubes.
Still stroking Vortex's head, he kisses his cheek gently, and says "V, I think we should have a drink. Rearrange ourselves - you know ...." In the hope that they can do that without him losing any of the close contact.
Amusing though Swindle's struggling is, Vortex isn't as comfortable as he could be. And neither is Swindle, judging by the feedback arriving along the interface.
He shuffles over, remaining on his front, one arm folded under his head, the other draped across Swindle's windshield. He could really do with going offline for a few joors, but a drop of high grade would go down really well right now. He assumes that Swindle will realise this without him having to ask.
He flicks his rotors, that loose sliver of metal making its presence known again. At least with the connection still in place, the urge to re-establish the gestalt bond doesn't seem quite so intense.
Swindle feels suddenly cold and deprived when the copter moves off him, and is glad Vortex keeps that arm draped across his windshield. He does not get the energon straight away but turns on his side to face him, resting his head on his own arm, taking care to keep the copter's arm in place.
He has a little thrill at the sight of Vortex lying there, and gazes at him for a few seconds, before reaching out his free hand to brush down his cheek, noticing properly, close up, the effect of the missing battlemask and concluding, once again, that it gives his team mate an interestingly handsome look.
The precarious emotional state of a few moments before has given way to that feeling of near euphoria he had before at the copter's presence. He laughs softly: "You know - the when I first met you type old days. When we first worked for Onslaught. Before all the shit went down. It was all right then."
Raising himself, he leans over and kisses his team mate on the cheek, a flood of feelings making their way along the connection. He shutters his optics, his lips lingering, before he pulls away and rolls over to reach for the energon bag.
With the tactile contact and the reminiscing about before, Swindle seems to be in one of his Autobottish romantic moods. They'd always looked so ridiculous before, from the outside, and it still kind of does to Vortex, but being on the receiving end of one is actually kind of enjoyable. Especially the adulation part.
Still, he only feels that he's made the first step towards understanding Swindle, and gaining the kind of hold over him that he wants. As he mulls this over, the minor damage warning flashes again, at the same time as one of his rotors gives an annoying twinge.
//OK, this is really starting to grate.// And he can't be bothered to move. //Just look on the end of that blade you splashed high grade all over and tell me what's up with it.//
Swindle sits up slowly and allows his equilibrium to settle. Three overloads in a row - the last one from which he can still feel the reverberrations - have taken their toll on his resources and he feels lightheaded. He leans over to the bag and grabs a couple of cubes, handing one to Vortex and hoping he can drink it in that position. Then he cracks one himself and takes a sip before turning to the rotors.
They spin lazily. Swindle's optics follow them around and his hand hovers as he despairs just very slightly, wondering what to do. Coming to a decision, he spots the one which appears to be having trouble - it has a small piece of metal protruding from the end. Putting the cube down, he seizes it firmly with both hands.
There's a faint buzzing as his grip halts the rotation. He peers anxiously down at the copter.
"V - I'm not gonna seize these things up, holding this like this, am I?"
He accepts the cube, but doesn't drink just yet. Instead, he sets it down on the floor just in front of him.
//Course not.// He disengages his output shaft, allowing the rotor array to move freely in Swindle's hands.
The indication of anxiety pleases him. He rethinks his earlier decision to wait until Swindle's gasping for a double connection before sending any data across. This seems like the perfect moment to reciprocate on the intimacy in order to further his own agenda.
//Here, lemme show you.// He reaches beneath himself and - so very casually - tosses Swindle the end of his interface cable. //Plug yourself in, you'll see.//
The thought occurs to him, in a drowsy, contented kind of way, that Swindle is far better at taking instruction than Smokescreen ever was.
Swindle catches the connector and holds it in his hand, staring at it, an expression of complete amazement on his faceplates. A mixture of feelings and sensations erupt within. Just the notion of the copter plugging into him is sufficient to - amazingly, incredibly - send his circuits fritzing and start the charge rising again. At the same time, he can't help but feel mildly disappointed. He was kind of hoping that this would happen - well - kinda more in the throws of passion!
He is lost for words and actions. He looks at his hand on the the still rotors and then at the connector, then at the hand again and then down at Vortex. The sensations in his circuits magnify and his own connector, still within the copter, twitches.
All Swindle can say is: "Errr .... uhhh .... yeah ...!"
He has a moment's doubt, wondering if he's being played in a similar way to the way he plays others. But he knows what Swindle is capable of, and that kind of deception really isn't it.
Still, it's worth keeping his guard up. While he'll accept a connection from Swindle, he won't be sending any data until he's certain that he's not being manipulated. And he won't plug in until Swindle has begged him to.
For the first time since before the Spare Parts Incident, Vortex finds himself hoping that there might just be a way to strengthen the team. Provided Swindle can be trusted.
But he won't open the bond. Not yet. Not ever, he corrects himself, and the thought is simultaneously aspirational and horrifying. He wants to, with a sharp and aching need that only gets worse as he tries to distract himself from it, but that would leave him vulnerable. He won't expose himself to that.
Not now, at any rate.
//I can't,// he lies. But it is a lie he thinks (hopes) that Swindle will interpret in a particular way: a social lie, between lovers; a small indication of weakness to elicit sympathy, and to encourage the other to go that extra mile.
To reinforce the message, he makes the connection, tensing for a moment against the barrage of new data, then sighs into it, leaning down to nibble lightly on Swindle's lower lip.
Reply
A disappointment and sense of failure flashes through Swindle at the copter's words ....this is fragged; I'm too late .... but it is completely overridden almost straight away by the feel of his connector sliding into the copter's port.
Swindle stiffens and gasps, drowning first in pure sensation and then in sheer wanting as his team mate slides him home, the feeling of being so much where he has wanted to be for so long almost overwhelming him. Then he feels the copter's mouth on his and his body tries to buck towards the connection, straining up as he longs for the moist warmth of the whole of the copter's mouth on his, longs to touch him, stroke him, wrap himself around and swamp him with every indication of how much the copter means that he can muster.
But he can't do any of that - so he stuggles, frantically arching to kiss him as he tries to pull free, writhing and mouthing incoherent words, the only deciperable one being: "Vortex ....
Most of all, Swindle wants to drown he copter across the bond in a massive show of contrition and desire.
He can't - but the connection is in, deep, whole, and Swindle's sensor net fires as he pulses energy through, thrusting it in, his field flaring as his systems charge fiercely. He shutters optics and strains, his hands clenched, pulsing harder, adding as much wanting and appreciation and love type data to the barrage as he possibly can.
Reply
//Frag.// He's impressed, and he fails at not showing it. This is a side to Swindle that he'd never anticipated, and never - he realises - bothered to go looking for. A shudder wracks his every system, charge building far faster than he thought possible, and he leans into the kiss, his free hand moving in proprietory caress over Swindle's throat.
And as for the more emotive element. It shocks him, but it also intrigues him. It's something he's never been capable of, nor has he ever wanted to be. It's an interesting weakness, but it's so very gratifying to be on the receiving end, and the gratification translates as arousal.
Reply
Nothing could have the effect of escalating Swindle's charge faster than the copter's obvious arousal. Everything - the heat radiating, the frame shuddering and - most of all - the rotors quivering exquisitely like that - send impulses roaring over every synapse, his sensor net on fire as heat pours through and his circuits swell with rising charge.
The copter's mouth is on his - hard, hungry - and that hand glides over his throat, powerful, beautiful, capable of so much damage but not doing it, its converse gentleness and possiveness thrilling to the core, a clear message that Vortex wants him, that he, Swindle, is wanted by his team mate, his beautiful team mate who he has wanted like this for so long. Swindle whimpers, snaking his glossa into Vortex's mouth, as he strains upward and pulses hard.
He manages to get out, his voice frantic and fraught: // Vortex .... this is fantastic ..... you're fantastic .... I've wanted this so much ..... you don't know how much \\ unable to halt the words and meaning it all - earnestly - desperately - as another burst of emotion sends him pumping harder in a fresh flurry of frantic need.
Swindle is turned on almost to delerium. If he stops, the charge will soar instantly and he'll blow straight away. It'll happen anyway, but for now he's determined to fire the copter harder, to pleasure him, and in turn fuel his own arousal. He gains a little control and intakes deeply, rhythmically, pumping the energy in, shuddering and increasing the bolts in depth and strength, sending each one penetrating as far into Vortex as he possibly can with as much feeling and - love - as the connection will allow.
Reply
He would add 'for as long as you like', but the fortnight since he last interfaced seems like forever, and he finds himself pressing closer, kissing deeper, falling into the sensation and not bothering to claw himself back out, actively rejecting the thought that this is the mech who once sold them, who he tried and failed to kill, who he has good reason to utterly despise.
Because that thought also comes with the feeling that this is justice, this is retribution. He is in control, he is larger, heavier, stronger. One small movement of his hand, and he could tear the cables from Swindle's throat. One savage bite, and he could rip out his glossa.
But he doesn't. And he doesn't want to. The revenge he has in Swindle's submission, in his adoration, is so much better than anything he could gain by force.
Here and now, he has control, and the opportunity to keep it. It's the chance to bind Swindle to him - to them - to forge something better and stronger for the team.
His rotors shudder violently, and a burst of static issues from the comm. The overload is harsh and fast, and utterly, gloriously worthwhile.
Reply
Swindle feels the mouth on his, the probing glossa, the hand, the hard body bearing down, a mass of quivering rotors and raw power. He smells unburned fuel, tastes the richness of the alloys, feels the copter's burning closeness and exults in being the object of it.
Under his team mate, the smaller Combaticon's frame shudders violently, his hands clutching, body arching, his field flaring wildly as every circuit frizzles in searing heat. The charge peaks as the pulses surge out of him, deeper, stronger, penetrating further, everything nearing a crescendo to converge in one headlong rush when Vortex goes over.
He pumps, seething, burning up, to hover right on the brink - willing the copter to realease, so badly needing to receive him and wishing in a rush of thoughts that the copter was plugged in, and that the bond was open, but he isn't and it isn't and it doesn't really matter because Oh by primus this is happening and its going to be absolutely fragging brilliant even without that ....
And then Vortex blows. Raw, blinding energy crashes over every part of Swindle's already overcharged self with devastating force. He screams, his body going rigid as his loaded systems are filled and purged. He pauses, freezing, absorbing, shuddering, just clinging to online-ness, a moment of suspension and weightlessness like in space - before all his residual energy gathers in a solid mass to explode back through the connection.
A great mass of emotion - all Swindle's need and deep wanting for it to be this way and adoration for his team mate - rushes through too, the ethereal mingling with the physical in one so much needed, so long awaited release.
Reply
He heaves for air, the shock of Swindle's overload slamming through him, overpowering the aftershocks of his own. Then everything blinks out, just for a moment; his elbow servos give way, and he slumps with his chin on Swindle's shoulder, one hand on the top of Swindle's helm, the other still gripping his wrists, but more lightly now, his thumb moving in a tired caress.
His rotors spin slowly, moving the air around, although it doesn't make it any less warm. Thunder can just be heard over the roar of his - and Swindle's - cooling fans, and a torrent of rain beats against the roof.
//Mmmmmmmm...// he says, and it's unclear whether or not he meant to say anything more.
Reply
Swindle intakes deeply, feeling his own aftershocks fall into sync with the copter's. Then Vortex slumps on him, heavy - almost to the point of crushing - but Swindle does not want to move. It's like an offline vision - being here like this - and he's afraid if he alters anything he will wake up and find it isn't real.
He lays there, the sigh of the copter's intakes mingling with the sound of the rain, a strange mixture of happiness merging with almost overwhelming emotion. Everything that has happened lately, this now being so close to Vortex, so much what he wanted for so long and thought he could not possibly have - it's almost too much. Memories of the past float through his processor, of before the box, before all that - of Onslaught and Brawl and Blast Off and he and Vortex in days when the copter did not hate him. Some memory of their being on a roof together, flits in and passes. Swindle's frame shudders lightly as emotion overcomes him, a single tear making its way slowly down his cheek.
Shaking from the strength of his feelings, Swindle excricates his hands and slowly wraps his arms around his team mate's neck, gently stroking at the back of his head. Shuttering his optics he draws him close, simply whispering: // Vortex \\ as the final waves of overload pass over and out.
Reply
He fails to notice everything except Swindle's touch, and the information still travelling through the connection.
The low charge warning which had begun to make itself known a while back starts to ping again. He turns it off, but anything more seems like far too much effort.
//What?//
Reply
Swindle says out loud: "Just thinking about the old days," controlling his emotions and pulling himself together, because he does not want Vortex to know that he has got like that.
But there's a new dilemma. The copter's crushing weight is upon him, inhibiting his intake system, and he can't feel his left foot because the pressure on his hip is blocking the sensory relays. He tries to rearrange himself beneath Vortex, but it makes no difference to the discomfort. Yet he does not want his team mate to move, relishing his warmth, and the closeness, and the feel of him being there like that.
So Swindle puts up with it, squirming a little more. Until his HUD starts flashing, warning him of the need for replenishment. Turning his head, he espies the bag of energon cubes.
Still stroking Vortex's head, he kisses his cheek gently, and says "V, I think we should have a drink. Rearrange ourselves - you know ...." In the hope that they can do that without him losing any of the close contact.
Reply
Amusing though Swindle's struggling is, Vortex isn't as comfortable as he could be. And neither is Swindle, judging by the feedback arriving along the interface.
He shuffles over, remaining on his front, one arm folded under his head, the other draped across Swindle's windshield. He could really do with going offline for a few joors, but a drop of high grade would go down really well right now. He assumes that Swindle will realise this without him having to ask.
He flicks his rotors, that loose sliver of metal making its presence known again. At least with the connection still in place, the urge to re-establish the gestalt bond doesn't seem quite so intense.
//What about the old days?//
Reply
Swindle feels suddenly cold and deprived when the copter moves off him, and is glad Vortex keeps that arm draped across his windshield. He does not get the energon straight away but turns on his side to face him, resting his head on his own arm, taking care to keep the copter's arm in place.
He has a little thrill at the sight of Vortex lying there, and gazes at him for a few seconds, before reaching out his free hand to brush down his cheek, noticing properly, close up, the effect of the missing battlemask and concluding, once again, that it gives his team mate an interestingly handsome look.
The precarious emotional state of a few moments before has given way to that feeling of near euphoria he had before at the copter's presence. He laughs softly: "You know - the when I first met you type old days. When we first worked for Onslaught. Before all the shit went down. It was all right then."
Raising himself, he leans over and kisses his team mate on the cheek, a flood of feelings making their way along the connection. He shutters his optics, his lips lingering, before he pulls away and rolls over to reach for the energon bag.
Reply
With the tactile contact and the reminiscing about before, Swindle seems to be in one of his Autobottish romantic moods. They'd always looked so ridiculous before, from the outside, and it still kind of does to Vortex, but being on the receiving end of one is actually kind of enjoyable. Especially the adulation part.
Still, he only feels that he's made the first step towards understanding Swindle, and gaining the kind of hold over him that he wants. As he mulls this over, the minor damage warning flashes again, at the same time as one of his rotors gives an annoying twinge.
//OK, this is really starting to grate.// And he can't be bothered to move. //Just look on the end of that blade you splashed high grade all over and tell me what's up with it.//
Reply
Swindle sits up slowly and allows his equilibrium to settle. Three overloads in a row - the last one from which he can still feel the reverberrations - have taken their toll on his resources and he feels lightheaded. He leans over to the bag and grabs a couple of cubes, handing one to Vortex and hoping he can drink it in that position. Then he cracks one himself and takes a sip before turning to the rotors.
They spin lazily. Swindle's optics follow them around and his hand hovers as he despairs just very slightly, wondering what to do. Coming to a decision, he spots the one which appears to be having trouble - it has a small piece of metal protruding from the end. Putting the cube down, he seizes it firmly with both hands.
There's a faint buzzing as his grip halts the rotation. He peers anxiously down at the copter.
"V - I'm not gonna seize these things up, holding this like this, am I?"
Reply
//Course not.// He disengages his output shaft, allowing the rotor array to move freely in Swindle's hands.
The indication of anxiety pleases him. He rethinks his earlier decision to wait until Swindle's gasping for a double connection before sending any data across. This seems like the perfect moment to reciprocate on the intimacy in order to further his own agenda.
//Here, lemme show you.// He reaches beneath himself and - so very casually - tosses Swindle the end of his interface cable. //Plug yourself in, you'll see.//
The thought occurs to him, in a drowsy, contented kind of way, that Swindle is far better at taking instruction than Smokescreen ever was.
Reply
Swindle catches the connector and holds it in his hand, staring at it, an expression of complete amazement on his faceplates. A mixture of feelings and sensations erupt within. Just the notion of the copter plugging into him is sufficient to - amazingly, incredibly - send his circuits fritzing and start the charge rising again. At the same time, he can't help but feel mildly disappointed. He was kind of hoping that this would happen - well - kinda more in the throws of passion!
He is lost for words and actions. He looks at his hand on the the still rotors and then at the connector, then at the hand again and then down at Vortex. The sensations in his circuits magnify and his own connector, still within the copter, twitches.
All Swindle can say is: "Errr .... uhhh .... yeah ...!"
Reply
Leave a comment