More 'Hide/Swoop: Just Call Me
Title: Just Call Me
Universe: loosely G1 cartoon, with one particular idea pilfered from the UK comics. Sequel to What You're Not Doing
Rated: R for physical intimacy between mechanical beings.
Pairing: Ironhide/Swoop, established.
Warning: it started off silly - Is that the definition of 'fluff'? - because Swoop got wrapped up in a song - Does that make it a song-fic? - but there is a continuation of plot(s).
Author's Note: Oh, I do wish they were all mine! Starrunner is my creature, but has only a cameo in this story. 5550 words.
It was a fluke that Swoop heard the tidbit of song. He and the other Dinobots were returning home from a training evolution off the coast of Australia and flew very low in the night on their approach to the Ark. Someone was driving on the remote roads through the wilderness with the radio cranked. He triggered his auto-recorder as soon as he registered what sounded like an endearment Ironhide used, with about the same tone and accent. It gave him a pang of loneliness: he'd been missing Ironhide’s presence for three days since Prime took his bodyguard with him to check on the New York contingent. ...touch my cheek before you leave me...darlin'...just call me angel... was all he caught. He was very curious to hear the rest of the song.
The next morning before reporting to Ratchet for his training session, he stopped by the comm center to see Blaster. If anybody could find a piece of music based on a lyric, it was him. Seaspray was on console but Blaster was there with him anyway: Swoop was in luck.
Except that Blaster had not forgiven the Dinobots their existence yet. Swoop greeted him happily and exchanged pleasantries with Seaspray while Blaster busied himself with another console.
"Sso, Sswoop, how did you find Austrralia? Werrre you able to ssee the corral sspawn?" Seaspray asked, always ready to discuss ocean life.
"No, not allowed near reef. Too many tourists," Swoop replied. "And him Grimlock had specific schedule to keep." His face fell in disappointment as Blaster walked out despite Swoop trying to speak with him, "Blaster?"
The Minibot noticed. "Sswoop, don't take it perrsonally," he offered, "He iss just angrry that Prrowl denied hiss rrrequest to build cassette-botss with ssome of the ssparrkss in sstasiss. He barrely tolerratess me and Cosmoss. Can I help you instead?"
Swoop was uncertain but explained what he was hoping to ask of Blaster, even playing the snippet for Seaspray. "Me Swoop rarely listen to music, but this interesting."
Seaspray was not one to pry even though he found the situation implausible. "To each hiss own. I can't perrsonally help you with thiss. Have you thought about asking Jazz?"
"No!" Swoop brightened, "Will do that. Thank you Seaspray," he chirped, then excused himself to go join Ratchet in the repair bay.
-X-X-X-
When he left later that day, still at a loss for what to do with himself in his spare time while Ironhide was away, he ran into Jazz in the corridor.
"Heya, Swoop!" Jazz hailed him, "Seaspray said you wanted ta talk ta me?" He tried not to make it obvious, but he'd been watching the monitors in the comm center for Swoop to leave medical, full of curiosity since Seaspray came looking for him after turnover.
"Aaawk! Aye," Swoop replied, perking up a bit. "Me Swoop catch bit of song last night, need help to find rest. Will you Jazz help?"
"Lay it on me, m'man."
Swoop actually looked both ways in the corridor before answering, “Not here.”
"Whoa-ho!" Jazz exclaimed, walking along with Swoop good-naturedly as the Dinobot led him down the hall. "What's that for, Swoop?" His normal smile widened as he teased, "Is there somethin' risque 'bout your song?"
Swoop shyly returned his smile, shaking his head. "No, not think so. Me Swoop just not want many know. Him Grimlock never let me Swoop live this down." Passing the entrance of the common room, Swoop saw that only Starrunner and Bumblebee were there and decided to duck inside, silently greeting them as he sat down. Both 'Bots smiled and went directly back to their private conversation.
Normally mid-afternoon saw the Ark common room empty. The busy times were immediately before and after shift-changes. At noon and midnight the 12-hour duty cycles had turn-over; those considered day-shift generally worked from 0600 to 1800. Outside of those times, the room was used whenever more than a few needed to meet, and every evening during what passed for time to socialize. Of course any of them could tune into nearly any human transmission he wanted, but part of adapting to the cycles of the planet was recharging every night and winding down during so-called 'prime time'. Autobot culture was gregarious: many 'Bots spent the evening hours there when not on duty. The television was constantly on at low volume, it let them feel connected to the larger world without having to tie up their individual receivers.
Those there during the off-times minded their own business, vocalizing below the decibel level set for CNN.
Jazz mimicked Swoop's attitude and slipped into a seat across from him in the corner by the door, out of the camera view. Conspiratorially, he leaned his elbows on the table and said in a low tone, "Spill it Swoop."
"Me Swoop hear music last night from someone out driving. Caught only a few seconds. Would you Jazz find whole song?"
"Of course I will. And I'll do ya one better: I'll show ya how ta use the internet ta find songs. All ya need's a few of the lyrics."
Jazz kept his best helpful expression as Swoop played the brief recording for him. The high, twangy voice was not something he found pleasant, himself, but there was a sweetness to it. Swoop had listened to it enough, he had worked out how to spell (and appropriately misspell) each of the words picked up by his auto-record function. Something about it nagged at Jazz. He thought it should be obvious why it got Swoop's attention but couldn't get a lock on it. The tune was not something he'd have believed a mech might appreciate (except for maybe Warpath, but his circuits didn't run on full voltage). No problem, he could do as Swoop wished. He started to get up, "All right. We'll get it quick. Let's just go snag a terminal an-"
Swoop interrupted him, looking nervous. "Naawk! Not in the comm center!"
That was not an expression he was used to seeing on a Dinobot. He sat back down and tried to reassure the younger mech, "It's okay, man, I don't hafta play it again to type it in. We got enough o' the lyrics, I bet we can get it. No problem."
"Does him Prime lock office when out?"
Jazz smiled mischievously. If they set foot in there, it wouldn't be two ticks before Smokescreen noticed. Knowing him, he'd ring the XO, right across the corridor, to investigate. Jazz' afternoon just got more entertaining! "Yeah, Swoop, but that's not a problem." He dropped his volume to ensure only Swoop would hear, "There's not a door that can keep me out."
Swoop smiled shyly. "We two go now?"
"Yeah," Jazz said, standing up to lead the big 'Bot out. "Wait at the last intersection until you see me go in the door, then follow quick. If somebody comes up, make nice with him loud enough for me ta hear, okay?"
"Aye!" Swoop responded happily.
-X-X-X-
Prowl found himself wishing Prime would make rounds of the other Autobot facilities more often. In four days since Prime and Ironhide left aboard Skyfire, Prowl had completely cleared his backlog of reports to edit and logs to approve. He almost lamented they would be back tomorrow. His console chirped for attention: the 'Bot on comm duty was ringing him. "Prowl here," he answered, opening up a window and turning on the camera to converse with Smokescreen.
"Prowl, Jazz just overrode the door to Prime's office. He has Swoop with him." Smokescreen looked like he couldn't decide which was worse: dealing with the weirdness of Jazz in the company of a Dinobot breaking and entering himself, or conversing with the XO. "I'm sure they have a good reason," he rationalized.
Prowl kept his face impassive, thinking that Jazz never ceased to surprise him. "Swoop probably left something on Ironhide's desk. He should have asked someone on security staff to let him in. Any of us would understand." He shook his head slightly. "They are right across the corridor. I will see what they are doing."
"Thank you."
Prowl cut the connection and left his office. He had no doubt Swoop left something in the vicinity of Ironhide's desk. He keyed the door open without a second thought.
His audio receptors were assaulted by a human voice: ...just touch my cheek before you leave me. Da-arli-in'!
Jazz was sitting at Ironhide's console, Swoop leaning on the back of the chair. The music was coming through the little speakers, apparently at full volume. Swoop's face was rapturous, optics dim, just listening. Jazz heard the door cycle and was looking at Prowl, grinning just as Prowl expected him to be. "And that's how you download music from the internet!" Jazz said triumphantly when it ended.
Prowl stood there, stoically expressionless. He crossed his arms over his chest.
Swoop on-lined his optics. His serene expression was replaced by a scandalized one when he saw Prowl. He squawked and dropped his optics to the floor, looking ready to grovel if he had to.
Prowl held up a staying hand. Processing that last word, that sounded like 'darling' with an accent like Ironhide's, the scene made perfect sense. Swoop did not need to know that Prowl understood, though. "I do not want to know what that was. Do not play it in my hearing again, Swoop. In future, if you need something from this office when Ironhide is away, come to someone with authorization to be in here: Wheeljack, Mirage, or me." He shifted his gaze pointedly to Jazz, "Just because Jazz is able to enter any room he wants does not mean he has leave to do so." How the saboteur managed to look so smug, yet so very innocent, Prowl could only wonder.
-X-X-X-
Swoop had no idea how to read the situation. Jazz had acted like they were doing something naughty by overriding the lock and letting themselves in to use Ironhide's console, and Prowl confirmed that by looking ready to discipline them, but the atmosphere was all wrong. Amused, somehow.
Jazz pulled a data chit from its port on the console and handed it to Swoop. It looked even more tiny in the Dinobot's large hand. "Here ya go, Swoop!"
Swoop accepted the chit and closed his hand around it gently. "Thank you, Jazz," he said softly, body language uncertain. Should he match his demeanor to Jazz, who was jaunty and relaxed as ever, or to Prowl, who was the perfect picture of offended authority to be balanced by a contrite offender?
Prowl stepped out of the way to the door, triggering it open. "Go, Swoop," he directed. Still confused, but happy that he seemed to be spared punishment, even a lecture, he did leave. The door cycled shut behind him. He'd have to thank Jazz again, later.
Swoop popped the chit into one of his data ports, letting his first favorite song wash through his processor. He wandered down to the common room, not interested in going to his room. Ironhide's room without Ironhide in it was just empty space, in the same way the quiet of his own mind without the sense of Ironhide in the background was just silence. It had not taken them long to make sense out of the energy feedback once Ratchet explained to them what they had done. Knowing why it was there made the pink noise in their processors tolerable. Being able to resolve it into sensible communication made it unbelievable, above and beyond anything either of them could have imagined. When his bond mate was in range, Swoop preferred silence in his audios because it allowed him to more easily 'hear' Ironhide's activity as the background to his own experiences. He was already accustomed to his partner's presence at the edge of his awareness, to be pulled to the fore at a thought. The times of separation were troubling.
He hadn't learned yet how to pass the down-time when Ironhide was away. It wasn't so bad when drilling with the other Dinobots: drills were like working with Ratchet, they occupied his full attention, leaving little time to miss the buzz of activity that was out of range. If he sat down to draw, whatever topic he chose would turn to his favorite mech. If he tried to read, he'd find himself 'listening' for a signal that wasn't there. If he tried to go put in more time in medical, Ratchet would run him out, saying this was First Aid's one-on-one time. He was not authorized to go flying for the fun of it. With his alt-mode, it was never a good idea to be where people might see him, even more so than Cosmos and Skyfire. Cosmos looked like something locals generally denied existed and Skyfire resembled an Earthly jet enough that they overlooked him. Swoop looked like something that had once existed, completely recognizable, but also completely out of time. He was a notable anachronism.
Was that why Blaster was so displeased by his form? By all the Dinobots? As Seaspray said, his problem with them wasn’t personal: they had barely interacted with Blaster since he arrived on Earth. Wheeljack would know. But Wheeljack was busy with a project and had asked not to be disturbed. Ironhide might know…
Bumblebee was still in the common room, playing a game of cards with Bluestreak now. They exchanged pleasantries. The gunner had just been released from medical with orders to light duty for a few days so Swoop asked him how he was faring and offered to bring a round of energon to the table. Probably not connecting Swoop's attention to Ratchet's direction to take in small amounts often, Blue happily accepted. Bumblebee said 'no thanks' as he laid out the remainder of the cards from his hand on the table. Blue groaned, losing, then brightly expressed gratitude as Swoop settled in with a cube for Bluestreak as well as himself.
-X-X-X-
Swoop lost track of time. The population of the common room grew. Bumblebee left and was replaced by Beachcomber and First Aid. Bluestreak left and was replaced by Sludge when the Dinos came in. Sludge seemed to still think it was his job to repair Swoop's relationship with Grimlock.
That presence was too much for Swoop. Not holding a grudge himself - he still planned to thank Grimlock for being a slag-head as soon as he got over being a slag-head - it was wearying to have to ignore the dirty looks and jibes coming from the other three Dinobots. He knew that Slag and Snarl were just following Grimlock's lead for their own meanness, not because they cared one way or the other about Swoop's choice of company, but it still hurt. Especially Snarl, with whom he came on-line for the first time in memory. He stood up to leave.
"No, you Swoop not leave already," Sludge complained. "We four can play game, yes?"
Beachcomber and First Aid were probably the most tolerant 'Bots on the planet. They both professed their willingness to interact with the Dinobots. To be fair, First Aid had known Swoop from the moment he was powered up in his current form, so he had no concept of Dinobots as 'other', no more than Protectobots were 'other' than Autobots, and Beachcomber was ... unique ... in his general acceptance of everything. Swoop knew, academically, that his perception of them as condescending was unfair. He was projecting his own prejudice, based on watching Grimlock's effect on the rest of the mechs in the room, on his friends.
First Aid was being his normal friendly self, and he liked to win. "Sure thing, Sludge-bot. You and 'Comber versus me and Swoop?" How could Swoop accuse First Aid of prejudice when he would choose Swoop for his partner at cards over the only other Autobot at the table?
Beachcomber knew it was a set-up. "Aw, 'Aid! You're breakin' my heart. Two medics on one side ain't fair."
Swoop smiled despite his funk. Beachcomber let it be 'fair' when it was the two medics versus him and Ironhide but ... No! He couldn't complete that thought, slamming poor Sludge himself!
Sludge didn't notice, he was looking at Swoop hopefully. Not crush that, this Sludge's chance, he thought. "Right. Play, but you Beachcomber trade places with me Swoop." He was rewarded by Sludge's brightest smile. "You two not stand chance against us Dinobots!"
They swapped places and played. Swoop let his song file repeat continuously in the back of his processor. He tuned out the other occupants of the room - easier since Grimlock was no longer directly in his line-of-sight - and focused on carrying Sludge through the game of Euchre. Teaching Sludge to deal the cards almost became a spectator sport before he figured it out, but the cards survived and their watchers' interest waned when the game moved on normally. By the last hand, Sludge seemed to get it, at least able to quickly follow suit, and they eked out the last trick for the 10-9 victory. Sludge was thrilled: "We Dinobots win! Me Sludge winner!"
Beachcomber clapped the much bigger mech good-humoredly on the shoulder, "Yeah, that was a good game, too, Sludge. Ya did good. You sure this was your first time playin'?" Beachcomber was such a kind mech - how could Swoop accuse him of ill-will?
First Aid was happily shuffling the deck again. "Rematch?" he asked.
"Yes, this first time me Sludge play card game. You-cur fun, even while losing. Thank you, 'Comber, 'Aid. Thank you, Swoop!"
Swoop wondered if the odd mix of pride, happiness, and faint sadness he felt, looking at Sludge, were what Ratchet felt toward him sometimes. It might explain that look Swoop had never understood before, the one Ratchet wore when Swoop made a connection for himself after working at it for days or weeks. He shook it off and smiled for Sludge's sake. "It fun for me Swoop, too, Sludge. You Sludge learn game fast. Maybe 'Aid teach other games tonight?" The sensation of presence at the edge of his perception had grown, finally becoming undeniable: Ironhide was back in range! Skyfire would be landing shortly - Swoop got 15 minutes from Ironhide, clearly, but he seemed distracted. Swoop didn’t press him. "Me Swoop go now. You Sludge did good, played well. Rematch later, 'Aid." He stood up again to leave.
First Aid, ever his friend, dimmed an optic at him purposefully, then turned to Sludge. "Have you ever heard of a game called War? It's very simple."
Glad at Sludge's eager reply, Swoop left the room, energon in hand. He had some things to do to make it easier for Ironhide to give him his full attention, and just enough time to do them.
-X-X-X-
In the short time they'd been bonded this was the longest they'd been apart. Ironhide felt nervous, and then disappointed with himself for being nervous. He knew Swoop was okay, the Dinos had returned from their training mission without mishap, but it was not the same as the certainty he'd so quickly grown used to having. He missed the happy presence at the edge of his thoughts that told him Swoop was there, missed the instants when Swoop would randomly think of him and they'd connect for a processor-cycle before going on about their business. He knew it was unreasonable, but he found that he feared coming home and not being able to feel that connection. He feared coming home and Swoop not wanting that connection anymore. As they left New York, that unfounded fear grew.
He was relieved when he registered the change in his field that meant he was in range of Swoop again. Nonchalantly, he asked Skyfire their ETA at the Ark.
"15 minutes," Skyfire answered.
Optimus, in truck-mode beside him in the bay, chuckled. "Only a few breems."
Maybe he didn't sound as nonchalant as he intended. He was glad he was in his van-mode: not only could his faceplates not give him away, he wasn't tempted to pace or fidget. Or, rather, he was tempted to both pace and fidget, but his form precluded it. Since Skyfire was willing to reach a higher top speed with them in their vehicle modes, pacing and fidgeting would make the trip take longer.
He was trying to sort out Swoop's thoughts from the noise with no luck. There seemed to be a repetition. What was Swoop up to?
The resonance was as pleasant as he remembered.
Was Swoop trying to block him out somehow?
He hadn't thought of that before. Maybe Swoop wasn't ready for him to be back yet? Where Swoop should be, there seemed to be some local broadcasting station. He couldn't filter it out and get anything recognizable. Whoever was running the station was having technical difficulties: he was sure the same song had started over.
Are ya a sparklin' again? Knock it off. Swoop's got better thin's ta do than wait for yer sorry aft ta come home. He realized he'd been expecting to be met at landing, assuming to converse with Swoop at the first opportunity while still airborne. He prepared himself for the usual arrival routine: after coming to a halt, Skyfire would let down the ramp and Ironhide would roll out behind Optimus. Being evening, Optimus would go to the common room to let the troops see he was back and Ironhide would go to their office, just to check messages. There wouldn't be any, since he checked right before they boarded, but he'd check anyway before moseying down to the common room to top up his energon levels before recharge.
Skyfire set down and extended their debarkation ramp. Optimus rolled forward. Ironhide fell in behind him. They transformed once they were clear of each other.
"We have a welcoming committee," Optimus said, smirking behind the battle mask.
Ironhide only half heard him. He was still trying to sort out Swoop's signal from the noise. He completed his transformation sequence and looked up. Omega Supreme sat at the edge of the woods, not far from the entrance to the Ark. Blaster, Wheeljack and Swoop stood around the entrance: Swoop and Wheeljack just outside, talking, and Blaster on the threshold. "Well I'll be," Ironhide drawled absently, smiling slowly when Swoop immediately met his gaze and offered him a coy little wave. He stopped trying to make sense of the interference. Their field resonance was as strong as ever.
"At least Wheeljack's intact," Optimus noted as they walked toward their friends. He refrained from laughing at Ironhide. His old friend looked like his processor might have gone into reboot, seeing Swoop waiting for him. Optimus exchanged greetings with Omega Supreme before being approached by Blaster, who seemed to expect Wheeljack to join him in his petition to the commander. "See you tomorrow, 'Hide," he called before turning his attention patiently to the data pad Blaster shoved at him. Wheeljack looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Ironhide only peripherally noticed any of that. He had optics only for Swoop and slowly walked toward him. When Wheeljack moved reluctantly to fill whatever role Blaster expected of him, Swoop remained.
"Hi!" Swoop offered brightly as Ironhide approached. He silenced his internal playback to more fully communicate with Ironhide.
"Evenin'," Ironhide replied. He stopped a neutral distance from the Dinobot, suddenly nervous again and unsure how to deport himself. Where minutes ago he'd been nervous about losing Swoop's attention, now he wasn't sure how to handle having it. The light from inside the base reflected off the planes of his face, highlighting his features beautifully. He almost said so. "Ya look - It's good ta see ya, Swoop. How're ya doin'?" Silly ol' 'Bot, he chided himself, yer bonded with him, for Primus' sake! Stop leakin' lubricant. Actions speak louder. He started to move again, to close the distance.
Swoop beat him to it, laughing. Ironhide didn't realize he'd projected that last. Swoop caught him in a tight embrace and kissed him. Better now, he answered directly and sent a disjointed stream of data to his partner about missing his presence, Sludge playing cards, 'Jack teasing Ratchet, and some things he'd like to do.
"Whoa, darlin'!" Ironhide said aloud, reaching up with both hands to cradle Swoop's face. They rested their foreheads together. "I'm tickled ta see you too, waitin' fer me an' all."
Swoop pulled Ironhide to him, running his hands sensuously down Ironhide's sides to his hips, tracing transformation seams with his thumbs. "Missed you 'Hide." Sensing there were no others in audio range - Omega and Skyfire were visible now only as vague silhouettes receding through the trees, and the other three had disappeared inside - Swoop decided to vocalize his intention. "Want touch, interface, overload, you 'Hide."
Ironhide allowed his engine to rev a little in answer, enjoying the way Swoop responded to it, holding perfectly still to let the vibration transfer into his frame where the red chassis contacted him. Optics off, his expression was blissful. Ironhide's energon flowed faster just knowing he was the cause of that look. "Ah-I missed you too, darlin'. Lemme grab a cube o' energon-" he stopped, focus on the packet of data Swoop sent him. His smile broadened, "Ya planned ahead."
-X-X-X-
Knowing how to exercise the field bond made interfacing an even more intense experience for them. Even without making a ported connection, being able to immediately register the effect every action had on the other increased the sense of intimacy. They could modulate each sensation if they chose. Swoop made it his goal this time to continue the overload for Ironhide as long as possible.
When Ironhide lost conscious function, Swoop turned the temperature of the recharge platform down a few degrees to help his partner's strained cooling system, then settled beside him comfortably. Again, he was grateful to the Protectobots for helping him bring his berth into Ironhide's room. He may not have space to sprawl like he did when he slept alone, but this room's original recharge platform had barely been large enough for Ironhide. The second-captain, for whom this state room was built, had been a smallish mech.
He had not survived the crash. Or, perhaps he had, but like Swoop: as a spark in stasis and not an intact mech who remembered leaving Cybertron.
As his systems cycled down from overcharging levels, Swoop wondered what it might be like to remember Cybertron. He had moments when he thought he remembered events that didn't fit in his conscious experience on Earth. He knew his name had been Divebomb. He didn't know how he knew that, but he'd once seen the crew manifest at departure and the name had leapt out at him in the same way he picked up every use of the word 'swoop' in text. It was his name. He also knew he wasn't the lost second-captain. He had a faint feeling of unease associated with Optimus Prime - that had translated into jealousy for a while - but he didn't know why. Watching Ironhide sleep, he wondered if he could ask.
If anyone would know Divebomb's story, it was Ironhide.
What if, as Divebomb, he and Ironhide hadn't gotten along? That was a strange thought.
What if, as Divebomb, he'd been different?
He decided it didn't matter. He was Swoop now. He had brothers. He knew his creators. He had a bond-mate. That made him better connected to the Autobot cause than most.
Being bonded made them unique in the Autobot ranks. Similar to but different from the two gestalt teams.
He pulled Ironhide close to his side, letting his lover rest on his wing so he could wrap his arms around the boxy form. Content, he settled into recharge.
-X-X-X-
Toward morning, Ironhide came back on-line. Swoop was already up; he could detect the soft grating sounds associated with Swoop drawing. He smiled and powered his optics. Swoop was sitting on the couch that defined the waking part of their living space, sketching something intently. Ironhide tried to gather the subject from his connection to Swoop, but was picking up that monotonous local broadcasting station again. He scowled.
Swoop looked up. "What wrong?" he asked, setting his pencil and paper down carefully and getting up. He radiated concern.
The music stopped; Ironhide could read Swoop’s field clearly again. "I need ta have Ratchet check out mah receivers. I keep pickin' up somethin' that interferes with bein' able ta hear you." He sat up fully and Swoop knelt in front of him and took his hands, worried.
Swoop looked straight into his optics. Kneeling, his eyes were level with Ironhide's as he sat on the berth. He appeared to be listening intently, too, not projecting anything as he asked, "Hear now?"
Ironhide shook his head. "No. But I heard it yesterday right 'fore we landed. I couldn't make yer signal out then, either."
Swoop narrowed his optics in thought. He was receiving Ironhide perfectly. As Ratchet explained it, anything that affected one of their fields would equally disturb the other's. Touching, their fields might as well be the field of one mech. Swoop could find nothing wrong. He’d been able to detect Ironhide’s major processor activities since before Skyfire landed, when Ironhide had been distracted by some other signal. He figured it out and relaxed. "That was me Swoop!" Swoop let go his hands and wrapped him up in a relieved hug, letting the song play through his vocalizer. Directly through their connection, he said, This? As soon as Ironhide processed the information from his audio receptors, he relaxed against Swoop. Remind me Swoop of you 'Hide.
Swoop was so happy, listening to it and enjoying having Ironhide in his arms that Ironhide couldn't help but like the song, too. As it wound down, Swoop kissed him.
"Swoop." Something about it disturbed him. He didn't want to ruin the song for Swoop, but he had to be sure, "I haven't said this outright, but I love you. Have since 'fore we lucked inta this bond we got."
Swoop cocked his head to one side and furrowed his brow, then leaned forward to rest his forehead carefully against Ironhide's. "Me Swoop know. Love you 'Hide. Why uneasy now?"
Optic-to-optic, Ironhide tried to smile reassuringly, squeezing Swoop's shoulders. "I want you to know that I'm not goin' anywhere. This ain't a fling." He kissed Swoop's brow ridge like a blessing. "You are mah angel. Period. None o' this of-the-mornin' slag. Swoop, darlin', that song's about regrettin' a one night stand. Before the fact, even!" He searched Swoop's faceplates, still not sure he was making his point since Swoop really had nothing coming from him through their permanent resonance.
Swoop laughed. Ironhide realized that he was picking it up in stereo, laughter-as-sound and laughter-as-data. "Oh, 'Hide! No! Singer have accent like you 'Hide and sing to 'darling'. Sound like when you 'Hide with me Swoop!" Swoop kissed him, vividly recalling the first time he'd heard Ironhide use the endearment.
Ironhide wouldn't have thought of the details right then, but Swoop was actively projecting his memory of that first encounter, knowing it made all of Ironhide's systems cycle faster. With difficulty he broke the kiss and rested his face against Swoop's shoulder, preventing immediate resumption despite the fact that he wanted to continue, too. "Yer terrible!" he breathed, consciously forcing his engine to tone down, "We both hafta be someplace this mornin'."
Swoop continued sending the memory. "You 'Hide need new cooling system." He kissed the part of Ironhide's helm he could reach. "Today good as any." He knew he was going to get his way. He gently traced the edges of every armor panel he could reach on Ironhide. "Him Prime understand. Him Ratchet already explained." He was rewarded by a shudder through his lover that extended to their merged fields and passed through his own systems.
Ironhide knew he would give in. He had no resolve when it came to Swoop. That was why he had been so careful about their private time before that rainy night that drove them to the common room. Grimlock threw Swoop out of the Dinobot’s dorm that night. He had to offer him his quarters, he had plenty of room for two. Right? "I am goin' to the Pit fer this. I know ya weren't like this before."
"Before what? Everything first for me Swoop. Maybe not first for me Divebomb, no way to know." Ironhide didn't react to the name except to note Swoop's claim of it. "Not important. We two are like this now.” He kissed Ironhide, muffling his vocalization, “Get new cooling system today. Make full use of this one." Even if Ironhide's audios couldn’t decipher the words, Swoop knew he could catch them through their resonance.
Ironhide succumbed. "Make full use o' this one?" He caressed the edges of Swoop's wings, trembling along with him. "You'll be the end o' me, darlin'."
-X-X-X-
The immediate benefit of being driven by a young medic into the overload that destroyed his cooling system was surviving to hear Ratchet swear.
Ironhide trusted that the long-term benefit would be more of the same.
As of 25APR2008, this has a sequel, Forget You Have a Root-mode.
NaggingFishWife, the artist formerly known as Whiner, drew a pic for this fic. She called it Missed You, 'Hide because that is the moment it depicts.
