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wyntir_knightTitle: Careless Whispers
Rating: M / R
Series: G1 - Pre-Earth
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Smokescreen/Swindle
Summary: A con goes right, but that isn’t going to stop Swindle from getting jealous about how Smokescreen closed the deal.
Warnings: slash, implications of bondage, tactile, plug ‘n’ play
Song: Careless Whispers, George Michael
Disclaimer: Transformers belong to Hasbro and Takara, and are licensed to IDW and Dreamworks. My original characters are my own and any similarity between them and any existing characters from canon or fandom is purely coincidental. I claim no ownership by writing this work.
Author's Note: This was written for the TF_Rare_Pairings community over on LiveJournal for their Flashback Fever challenge. Special thanks to bittereloquence for providing help and encouragement with a very stubborn Swindle, and for betaing.
---
Tonight the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose this crowd
Maybe it's better this way
We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say
- Careless Whispers, George Michael
---
Swindle stood at the back of the dance club trying very hard not scare away the customer by glaring at his partner on the dance floor. Smokescreen was near the center of the crowd, swaying in time with the music as he held the alien robot close. They moved together like one being, dancing seductively close, her bronze hands roaming over his frame in far too intimate a manner.
Swindle’s hand closed tightly around his cube, but it was the only sign of his irritation as he continued talking to his own mark. It was a simple game, just selling this disgusting organic a used nemesis shield while Smokescreen seeded the other one on the idea of buying into the non-existent Armature Corporation. It was a good plan, all around; one of Smokey’s best. But that didn’t mean that Swindle had to like it. Especially not when his partner’s face was so close to that damned Lithone’s.
“So the nemesis shield is exactly what a being in your line of work needs, my good sir. The Chaos Bringer himself could shoot you at point blank range and all you’ll feel is a warm breeze passing over your face,” Swindle said with a large grin to hide the disgust as he placed a companionable hand on the organic’s scaly green arm.
The Skuxxoid laughed heartily sending small droplets of spittle from his snout-like mouth as he clapped his hand on Swindle’s shoulder.
“Yes! I have use for this, my friend! Come! Let’s celebrate with a drink. You people take energon, yes?”
Swindle’s attention was momentarily drawn back to the dance floor as Smokescreen’s laughter drifted to him. The Praxian was far too close to the Lithone. Their faces were too close for comfort, the laughter was too intimate. And then as he watched Smokescreen turned her in a dip and arched his chevron playfully before leaning in and saying something in her audio. The taupe and bronze robot nodded and sidled in close to Smokescreen.
A low growl escaped Swindle’s vocalizer before he could stop it as he watched Smokescreen lead the femme off the dance floor and toward a booth at the back of the club.
“Something wrong, Cybertronian?” the Skuxxoid asked, his beady little eyes looking bored rather than concerned.
Swindle turned back to the alien. “No, not at all. Let’s close this deal, shall we? Devrosian brandy?” he asked as he guided the creature toward the bar.
He’d deal with Smokescreen after he had the credits for the faulty nemesis shield.
---
“So, tell me, Sarenix, why me? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking,” Smokescreen prompted quietly while trailing a finger down the back of the alien’s arm.
Sarenix shrugged and laced her fingers with his. "What can I say? You caught my attention."
"Oh really?" Smokescreen asked, a touch of tease in his voice. "It's my lucky day then, I guess. I was hoping I'd find someone to distract me tonight."
"Oh, I think I can do more than just distract, sweetling. But why don't you tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help out more than just providing a momentary outage?" Her tone took on a decidedly predatory edge and Smokescreen allowed a blush to rise in his optics.
"Well, I, uhm, that is-" He broke off his stuttering and looked up at Sarenix bashfully, careful to play the innocent young thing without laying it on too thick. The femme was a predator surely, but she was no fool. "Sorry, I'm not really used to this kind of thing. I mean, I'm not exactly the kind of mech who gets the attention, you know? Especially not from someone like you..."
The femme laughed lightly and placed a hand on Smokescreen's cheek, guiding his face up toward hers. With only a moment's hesitation, giving him time to pull away, she planted a kiss on his lips; a kiss that managed to be both delicate and smouldering at the same time.
Smokescreen pulled back from the kiss carefully, allowing his doorwings to shiver slightly and setting his engine to revving just slightly above normal.
“Wow, that was … just, uhm…” He looked down, optics darkening in another embarrassed blush before clearing his vents and looking back up at Sarenix. Playing the young innocent was one thing, but laying it on too thick was a sure way to tip the mark.
“You’re cute, you know that?” the Lithone asked, a smile pulling at her thin lips. “So, why is it that you’re in such need for a distraction, hrm?” She reached out and ran a bronze finger along the top edge of Smokescreen’s door, sending a genuine shiver through them. “Did I mention just how much I adore wings on a mech?”
Smokescreen’s door automatically pressed up into the touch as he reacted – not entirely against his will – to the seduction Sarenix was laying on him.
“Oh, I uhm … I just had a bad day at work, I guess,” Smokescreen replied, shifting carefully so as to not-obviously move his door out of easy reach. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I caught some slag for not meeting my quota over the last month.
“Oh?” the femme asked, voice full of curiosity and concern. “What is it that you sell?”
“Uhm, stocks actually. I’m a low level stock broker for Armature Corporation. Not exactly glamorous. Not really what you think of when you think high end weapons manufacture.” Smokescreen shrugged slightly and played with his energon cube nervously.
“Armature Corporation?” She paused, obviously searching her memory. “Oh yes, I recall hearing about them.”
“Yeah they’ve been in the news now and again,” Smokescreen replied with a nod. Of course, the only reason they’d been in the news was because of the carefully created paper trail and info sites that he and Swindle had created as bait for their hooks.
“So you didn’t sell enough shares? What are they going to do? I mean, it’s not like they can deactivate you right?” Sarenix asked with a laugh.
Smokescreen’s chuckle was a little forced. “Oh no, nothing like that, I mean, there have been a few stories about fired employees dropping off the face of the galaxy, but those are just stories. No, all my boss will do is fire me, and if he’s really pissed off, he’ll make sure I never work in the business again. And then there’s … well, with what I owe, I really can’t afford to be out a job right now.”
Sarenix leaned in and kissed the edge of Smokescreen’s audio with a not-so-gentle passion that sent him shivering with both desire and disgust. This femme was definitely a mech-eater.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, sweetspark.” Her hand slipped over his arm to his chest, coming to rest just below his bumper, her fingers brushing far too close to his interface port for comfort. “Tell me if there’s anything I can do to make it better. Anything at all ….”
Smokescreen carefully pulled away, looking at her with undisguised doubt mingled with both hope and a touch of lust. “Anything? You wouldn’t happen to know anyone willing to buy two million shares in Armature for cheap would you?” He let a soft chuckle escape to show that he really didn’t expect any such rescue from his predicament.
“Two million is an awful lot. But maybe you could sell them to me for cheap. Then you get to keep your job and I get a nice little nest egg for my twilight years.” Sarenix’s offer was whispered in a low, husky tone as she continued to explore his frame with her finger; keeping just on this side of what was acceptable in a public venue.
“I, hrm, I couldn’t ask that of you, Sarenix,” Smokescreen whispered back, a genuine stutter forming in his engine as his traitorous body reacted to her ministrations. “I mean, even for cheap that’s a lot of credits, and I wouldn’t feel right taking advantage of you like that.”
“Who’s taking advantage? It’s not like you pulled a gun on me and forced me to buy, now is it?” she asked. “And after all, I’ll be getting the better part of this deal, won’t I? From what I’ve seen, Amateur stock is constantly increasing, so my small donation to your cause will get me more than enough to make up for the loss of a few million credits. And who knows, if I’m really lucky, maybe you’ll be very, very grateful for my help.” Her last words were said in a low, sensual purr before she leaned in and captured Smokescreen’s mouth in a heated kiss that caused his engine to jump a gear.
As soon as it was safe to pull away, Smokescreen broke contact and placed a gentle finger on the femme’s lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Sarenix. I mean, I’m attracted to you. Really, really attracted to you, but I think we’re going to get into some serious trouble if we let this go where it’s headed. At least in public.”
Sarenix pouted slightly.
“But maybe we could go back out onto the dance floor for another song or two and then we can find someplace a bit more private to figure everything else out?” Smokescreen asked, slipping out of his seat and offering his hand to the femme.
She took his offer and together they glided out toward the middle of the floor where Smokescreen was sure he had a crowd to melt into if required. He was about to pull her close when he was interrupted by a black hand on his arm.
“Excuse me, Lady,” Swindle said with a winning smile. “Would you mind terribly if I steal your partner away? I’ve been eyeing him all night and couldn’t pass up the chance.”
Without waiting for a response, he slipped in between Sarenix and Smokescreen and swept the Praxian toward the edge of the dance floor. Smokescreen smiled apologetically toward the alien even as he allowed himself to be lead.
“What are you doing?” he hissed over the comm. lines, managing to never lose the smile.
“Making sure your head is in the right place,” Swindle replied over the same secure line, his voice low.
“Why wouldn’t it be? Frag it, Swindle, you’re going to risk the whole con coming in here like this!”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Oh I dunno. Maybe the fact that even I can tell she’s not buying it. Maybe the fact that she and the Skuxxoid aren’t as dumb or as greedy as we thought they were. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m not an idiot, Smokescreen.”
“What precisely is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I can see you changing tack, Ace. You’re getting too close and too touchy feely with the mark.”
“First off I’m not the one initiating this. She’s a predator, Swindle! We knew she was going to come on to me, so don’t you dare get all jealous! And secondly, you agreed to this plan knowing full well what this was going to lead to!”
“This isn’t jealousy. This is facts. And the fact is whenever a deal goes south you go back to what you know best,” Swindle hissed as he pulled Smokescreen almost painfully close, completely ignoring his partner’s arguments to the contrary.
“Oh? And what’s that?” Smokescreen sneered.
“It’s always the same. Job goes bad and you whore yourself out. Every. Damn. Time.”
Smokescreen stiffened and pulled away from Swindle. “Go frag yourself,” he growled, pain and anger written in his optics.“We have the potential for a lot of credits here and I am not going to let you ruin this with your idiot possessiveness!”
Swindle kept hold of Smokescreen’s arm, tightening his grip. “Yeah, we’ll have a lot of credits up until you gamble them away. Which given your streak, will be before we even leave this slagpit."
“Let go of me!” Smokescreen hissed out loud, his optics going dull as he pulled away from Swindle emotionally as well as physically.
He bit back the cruel words he wanted to say knowing that it would just lead to a fight and serious lasting damage. As much as he hated Swindle in this moment, he knew that in a few hours or a few days, they would both be over the anger. So long as he didn’t give in to the desire to verbally gut Swindle right here on the dance floor. Instead, he turned his back on his partner, put the smile back firmly in place, and strolled back to Sarenix.
---
Smokescreen made his way back to the spaceport after leaving Sarenix alone in an old hotel passed out from far too much high grade mixed in with some carefully formulated drugs. The Skuxxoid would find her when she failed to check in at whatever rendezvous point they had set up. By the time they realized that the nemesis shield was faulty and the stocks were forgeries, Smokescreen and Swindle would be well on their way to another job.
“Bout time you got back,” Swindle grumbled as Smokescreen entered the ship’s cargo bay. “Have fun with the alien?” Swindle’s tone was petulant and he never turned to look as Smokescreen, instead continuing to focus on putting away his various weapons in the walls of the bay.
“Do I look like I have that hideous paint on me?” Smokescreen snapped, heading immediately to the bridge.
He quickly arranged for his departure permissions and started the pre-flight checklist, his processor whirling with all of the nasty things he wanted to say to his partner. He never noticed Swindle slip in on silent feet until he was right behind the pilot’s chair.
“You know, you’re not one to talk about hideous paint, there, Smokes. She wasn’t that bad, I guess. For a primitive Cybertronian wannabe.”
The Praxian’s doors jumped slightly, the only hint that Smokescreen had been startled. He continued to get the ship ready to fly, completely ignoring Swindle.
“So,” Swindle asked hesitantly. “You get the credits?”
Smokescreen paused in his checklist just long enough to pull a small box out of his pocket and toss it on a nearby console.
Swindle opened the box, optics lighting with greed as he examined the contents. Two million in Nebulon Republic credits; easily transferable to any form of currency on any one of a hundred worlds in the sector. Between this and the credits Swindle got from the Skuxxoid, they would be set for a good long while.
Swindle put the credits away and looked at Smokescreen’s back. There wasn’t a hint of scuffed paint anywhere on the Praxian, and there would have been no time for him to properly buff out any scratches. The only conclusion was that Smokescreen had been telling the truth and that Swindle’s jealousy had gotten the better of him. Again. Admitting that he’d been wrong wasn’t something that sat well will Swindle, but facing a potentially long trip in total silence was worse than swallowing his pride.
“Look, I’m sorry, Ace. I jumped to the wrong conclusion there. We’re okay, right?” Swindle asked slowly.
“Yeah. Fine.” Smokescreen’s reply was distracted and full of irritation.
Taking the small victory, even though he knew it was nothing more than a masqueraded grenade, Swindle turned and left the room, heading into the common area of the tricked out cargo freighter.
A few hours later Smokescreen put the ship on autopilot and headed back for some fuel. As he entered the common area, he completely ignored Swindle; the only sign of his continued irritation was the stiff angle of his doors. Whether the irritation was at his partner, himself, or the situation in general Swindle didn't know. What he did know was that it was about time he did something to relax the Praxian before the grenade exploded into something irreparable.
Slipping up behind the blue and burgundy mech, he slid one hand up Smokescreen's back between his door hinges. "We need to talk, Smokes. And you need to stop hating me."
Smokescreen twisted away but Swindle held him in place against the energon dispenser. "We can't work like this if you're going to hold a grudge because I was an idiot."
"I don't hate you," Smokescreen murmured as Swindle began to pet his doors. "I'm just pissed of that you don't trust me. After all this time you still think I'm going to cheat on you for slag and giggles."
"Yeah, I know, Smokey," Swindle replied slowly, mapping out those sensitive doors he knew so well. "I just-" He paused, clearing his vents slowly. "Truth is it's not that I don't trust you. I just- I can't lose you Smokescreen. Not now, not ever. And every time you go into one of these long cons I keep thinking that you're never going to come back. That you'll come to your senses and find someone better."
Swindle stepped back as soon as he'd made the admission, ready for the rejection that, on some level, he always knew was coming. Smokescreen turned and looked at his partner, surprise and concern written in his optics.
"Why would you think that? I mean, yeah, you seriously piss me off sometimes but I promise you, Swin, I am not going anywhere. I may look, but you are the only mech I want to touch."
He stepped in close to Swindle, pulling the smaller mech into a hug before kissing him with a deep and comforting passion.
It was the only invitation Swindle needed. He pressed in as close as their body types would allow, his hand roaming feverishly over Smokescreen's body, mapping out every inch of a frame he knew almost as well as his own. Black fingers traced the lines of transformation seams scratching rough marks in the blue and burgundy finish of his partner.
Smokescreen groaned, half in pleasure, half in pain as he leaned into the touch. It was always rough with them, but this time it was rougher than usual.
"Swin," Smokescreen murmured around the kiss. "Swin, slow down. I-" He cut off with a gasp as Swindle dug his fingers in between a seam and began to tug at the wiring hidden just below the surface.
"... mine ..." Swindle murmured. "My Smokey ..." The words were repeated again and again in a fevered mantra as he pushed Smokescreen back against a table.
It was all Smokescreen could do to keep up as he was consumed by his lover. Swindle's hands were everywhere at once, his mouth marking every surface with kisses and bites as if marking Smokescreen as his own.
"Swin, I-" Smokescreen cried out in pain as Swindle bit down on his neck, hard enough to draw energon from the cables.
The blue and burgundy mech pulled back, rubbing at the mark Swindle's dental plates had left. "Whoa, calm down, Swin. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
"You can't leave me," Swindle whispered.
The look in his optics should have sent off warning bells, but Smokescreen only smiled, running a gentle hand over Swindle's cheek.
"I swear to you, I am not going anywhere."
He leaned in and kissed Swindle with infinite gentleness. "We don't have to do this fast, love. We have all the time in the universe."
With those words of reassurance, he took Swindle's hand and led him to their shared quarters. As soon as he reached the berth, Smokescreen gently tugged his lover down to sit beside him.
“There’s nothing wrong with slow, Swin,” he said, running the flat of one hand down Swindle’s arm, tracing over every angle and seam before leaning in to catch his partner’s mouth in a soft kiss.
“Slow is memorable. Slow is sensual. Slow can be more consuming than any fast burning fire.” Each statement was punctuated with teasingly gentle kissed on mouth, jaw, neck.
Swindle moaned in response, his hands moving of their own volition to stroke, grab, and tease Smokescreen’s body. His actions filled with frenetic heat and Smokescreen pulled back, catching Swindle’s hands in his own.
“Slow, love. Slow. This isn’t a race,” he said quietly, bringing those black hands up to his mouth, kissing each finger in turn.
He shifted on the berth so that they were facing before pulling the smaller mech into his lap. “Just touch me. I’m already yours, there’s no need to scratch your name in my finish.”
Swindle settled in against Smokescreen and grinned wickedly. “Hrm, ‘Property of Swindle. You touch, you die’. I think I like the idea of branding that into your aft.”
“No! Bad Swindle! No brandings!” Smokescreen chided with a chuckle, slapping his lightly on the arm. The words and the look in Swindle’s optics sent a slight shiver through Smokescreen. He knew, on some level, that this wasn’t a joke, but he dismissed the concern immediately. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle Swindle if this possessive streak became more than a cute clinginess.
“Ow! Partner abuse!” Swindle cried in mock pain before grinning lecherously. “If we’re going that route, you need to let me go find the vibro-cuffs and the silk cord.”
“No,” Smokescreen replied simply as he went back to molesting his lover’s neck. He trailed soft kisses and gentle bites along Swindle’s jaw and neck as he teased the smaller mech’s grill and headlights.
He continued his gentle ministrations, waiting for Swindle to respond in kind, but all the smaller mech did was squirm in Smokescreen’s lap, sending out waves of nervous energy.
“Swindle, please,” Smokescreen said more than a little sadly. “I need this to be more than just a quick ‘face. I need us to be more than just convenient berth buddies.”
Swindle cleared his vents slowly. This was all so far out of his comfort zone. All he wanted to do was pin Smokescreen to the berth and ravage him until they both overloaded again and again. But he knew that if he did that, he’d lose his partner. And it wasn’t as if the teasing didn’t feel nice.
Smokescreen saw the hesitation written all over Swindle’s face and came to an immediate decision.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Fine, you want dominance? I’ll give you dominance.”
Instantly he lifted the smaller mech off his lap and pinned him to the berth. Yes, Swindle was stronger and faster, but Smokescreen had bulk and surprise on his side. He took hold of Swindle’s wrists and pressed them down.
“We’re doing this my way and I don’t want any more complaints,” Smokescreen growled before capturing Swindle’s mouth in a rough, heated kiss.
Swindle moaned up into the dominant kiss, arching against Smokescreen in an almost primal need for more. The Praxian took a firm hold of his lover's black hands, and guided them in a lesson of how to touch a lover gently.
"I'm not going anywhere, Swin," he purred. "Just touch and stroke and be gentle. You make me weak when you treat me right."
He let go of Swindle's hands, trusting the smaller mech to do as he was asked, while he focused his attention back to driving his lover slowly wild.
Swindle melted into Smokescreen's touch and words, allowing his hands to roam where they chose. He traced over Smokescreen's doors, moving slowly down to his chest. Black fingers trailed over bumper and headlights before moving down to Smokescreen’s abdomen; mapping out the edges of the arrow with a teasingly light touch.
“I always did love that arrow, Smokes,” Swindle purred as he took hold of Smokescreen’s hips. “Don’t know why. It just seems to promise so much.”
“Seeing as we’re not organic and my cable’s not housed there, I don’t see why,” Smokescreen murmured with a chuckle before going back to nibbling on Swindle’s neck.
“Maybe it’s because it reminds me that that fine aft is on the other side,” Swindle purred, before grabbing Smokescreen’s aft with both hands.
Smokescreen jumped at the sudden molestation, his engine slipping up a gear in response.
“Ah, now that’s what I want to hear,” Swindle murmured. “I love the sound of your engine screaming out in response. And I love that I’m the one doing it.”
He captured Smokescreen’s mouth in a heated, possessive kiss, raking his fingers up his lover’s back. With deceptively gently fingers he ran his hands over the lower edge of Smokescreen’s doors, tracing out the sensitive seams and angles.
Smokescreen moved in closer to his partner, ignoring that his chest was pressed almost painfully close to Swindle’s. The ache was minor compared to the thrilling vibrations of their engines growling so close together. This was just so good, so completely right in every way imaginable.
“Primus, Swin …,” Smokescreen groaned, passion causing his voice to tremble. “Oh, primus …Want you so much…need so much.”
Smokescreen’s plea set off Swindle’s own greedy need for more. He would never have admitted it outside of the throes of passion, but he needed this mech so much more than just as a partner. Something felt complete when they were like this, but he knew he needed more. With shaking, hesitant fingers he traced the outline of Smokescreen’s interface port.
The Praxian pulled back at the touch, looking down as his partner with undisguised lust mixed with concern.
“Are you sure?” he asked. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the hardline - oh, he very much wanted that kind of intimacy - but he never thought that Swindle would ever have enough trust for it.
Swindle nodded slowly and opened his own interface port. “I need more. Please.”
The quiet, needy admission was all Smokescreen needed. He retracted his own cover and withdrew Swindle’s cable. Relishing in the feel of the smaller mech trembling beneath him, Smokescreen teased the cable with a slow, deliberate caress.
Swindle arched up with a cry, desperately trying to make the connection. “Fraggin’ tease!” he growled.
“You know it, sugarbot,” Smokescreen murmured, the slight tremble in his own voice betraying his own need.
He felt Swindle’s hand touch his port, dark fingers withdrawing his cable slowly, obviously trying not to rush. Smokescreen buried his face in the crook of Swindle’s neck as a shudder racked through his body. It had been far too long since he had been this intimate with anyone and he found himself consumed with a need for more. And he wanted it immediately.
With trembling hands he plugged into Swindle, his cry mingling with his partner’s as the smaller mech made his own connection.
”Stars!” Swindle cried out over the newly created connection as data packets began to fly between them.
A hundred curses in a hundred galactic languages formed in their minds, neither quite sure which one was providing them. They slipped into each other’s mind, past firewalls and filters, becoming one being. It was all Smokescreen could do to remain sure of his own identity as he was subsumed within Swindle, as he felt his partner do the same in his own systems. There was nothing more intimate than this moment as nearly every part of them was laid bare for the other to see.
That was when Smokescreen heard the soft words drifting up from his partner; soft words that were obviously intended to be kept under lock and key.
“Don’t leave me, Smokey. Can’t let you leave me. Need you! Love you!”
Swindle froze and pulled back both physically and emotionally as soon as he realized what had slipped out.
Smokescreen looked at Swindle and captured his face with his hands, stopping the smaller mech from closing off completely.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I am never going anywhere, Swindle. I can’t lose you either. I love you too much for that.”
With the simple, small admission both mechs shattered as overload consumed them utterly.
---
Smokescreen came online slowly, his arms firmly wrapped around Swindle. At some point after overload he had fallen to his side and had pulled the smaller mech tight against him. He could feel the lazy data packets floating back and forth across their still locked ports, but couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it just yet.
Instead he placed a gentle kiss on the top of Swindle’s helm and snuggled in to a more comfortable position.
“Hrm?” Swindle murmured the wordless question as he latched further onto his partner like a space barnacle. He nuzzled into Smokescreen’s chest and sighed happily.
“Yeah, I agree,” Smokescreen replied to the unsaid comment. “That was damned nice. So, no more rough stuff and threats to brand me?”
Swindle chuckled wickedly. “We both know you like the ropes and vibrocuffs as much as I do, Smokes, so don’t play otherwise.”
He pulled away just far enough to plant a kiss on Smokescreen’s lips.
“And as for the branding. I dunno. Seems to me I have even more to protect now,” he murmured over the connection. “Mine. Always mine.”
“That goes both ways, Swin,” Smokescreen replied, drawing a finger up one tan arm. “You’re mine always too.”
With a soft noise of protest, he carefully unhooked their ports before lying back on the berth and pulling Swindle close. The ship would warn them if they were needed on the bridge. Until then they had all the time in the universe.
Rating: M / R
Series: G1 - Pre-Earth
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Smokescreen/Swindle
Summary: A con goes right, but that isn’t going to stop Swindle from getting jealous about how Smokescreen closed the deal.
Warnings: slash, implications of bondage, tactile, plug ‘n’ play
Song: Careless Whispers, George Michael
Disclaimer: Transformers belong to Hasbro and Takara, and are licensed to IDW and Dreamworks. My original characters are my own and any similarity between them and any existing characters from canon or fandom is purely coincidental. I claim no ownership by writing this work.
Author's Note: This was written for the TF_Rare_Pairings community over on LiveJournal for their Flashback Fever challenge. Special thanks to bittereloquence for providing help and encouragement with a very stubborn Swindle, and for betaing.
---
Tonight the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose this crowd
Maybe it's better this way
We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say
- Careless Whispers, George Michael
---
Swindle stood at the back of the dance club trying very hard not scare away the customer by glaring at his partner on the dance floor. Smokescreen was near the center of the crowd, swaying in time with the music as he held the alien robot close. They moved together like one being, dancing seductively close, her bronze hands roaming over his frame in far too intimate a manner.
Swindle’s hand closed tightly around his cube, but it was the only sign of his irritation as he continued talking to his own mark. It was a simple game, just selling this disgusting organic a used nemesis shield while Smokescreen seeded the other one on the idea of buying into the non-existent Armature Corporation. It was a good plan, all around; one of Smokey’s best. But that didn’t mean that Swindle had to like it. Especially not when his partner’s face was so close to that damned Lithone’s.
“So the nemesis shield is exactly what a being in your line of work needs, my good sir. The Chaos Bringer himself could shoot you at point blank range and all you’ll feel is a warm breeze passing over your face,” Swindle said with a large grin to hide the disgust as he placed a companionable hand on the organic’s scaly green arm.
The Skuxxoid laughed heartily sending small droplets of spittle from his snout-like mouth as he clapped his hand on Swindle’s shoulder.
“Yes! I have use for this, my friend! Come! Let’s celebrate with a drink. You people take energon, yes?”
Swindle’s attention was momentarily drawn back to the dance floor as Smokescreen’s laughter drifted to him. The Praxian was far too close to the Lithone. Their faces were too close for comfort, the laughter was too intimate. And then as he watched Smokescreen turned her in a dip and arched his chevron playfully before leaning in and saying something in her audio. The taupe and bronze robot nodded and sidled in close to Smokescreen.
A low growl escaped Swindle’s vocalizer before he could stop it as he watched Smokescreen lead the femme off the dance floor and toward a booth at the back of the club.
“Something wrong, Cybertronian?” the Skuxxoid asked, his beady little eyes looking bored rather than concerned.
Swindle turned back to the alien. “No, not at all. Let’s close this deal, shall we? Devrosian brandy?” he asked as he guided the creature toward the bar.
He’d deal with Smokescreen after he had the credits for the faulty nemesis shield.
---
“So, tell me, Sarenix, why me? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking,” Smokescreen prompted quietly while trailing a finger down the back of the alien’s arm.
Sarenix shrugged and laced her fingers with his. "What can I say? You caught my attention."
"Oh really?" Smokescreen asked, a touch of tease in his voice. "It's my lucky day then, I guess. I was hoping I'd find someone to distract me tonight."
"Oh, I think I can do more than just distract, sweetling. But why don't you tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help out more than just providing a momentary outage?" Her tone took on a decidedly predatory edge and Smokescreen allowed a blush to rise in his optics.
"Well, I, uhm, that is-" He broke off his stuttering and looked up at Sarenix bashfully, careful to play the innocent young thing without laying it on too thick. The femme was a predator surely, but she was no fool. "Sorry, I'm not really used to this kind of thing. I mean, I'm not exactly the kind of mech who gets the attention, you know? Especially not from someone like you..."
The femme laughed lightly and placed a hand on Smokescreen's cheek, guiding his face up toward hers. With only a moment's hesitation, giving him time to pull away, she planted a kiss on his lips; a kiss that managed to be both delicate and smouldering at the same time.
Smokescreen pulled back from the kiss carefully, allowing his doorwings to shiver slightly and setting his engine to revving just slightly above normal.
“Wow, that was … just, uhm…” He looked down, optics darkening in another embarrassed blush before clearing his vents and looking back up at Sarenix. Playing the young innocent was one thing, but laying it on too thick was a sure way to tip the mark.
“You’re cute, you know that?” the Lithone asked, a smile pulling at her thin lips. “So, why is it that you’re in such need for a distraction, hrm?” She reached out and ran a bronze finger along the top edge of Smokescreen’s door, sending a genuine shiver through them. “Did I mention just how much I adore wings on a mech?”
Smokescreen’s door automatically pressed up into the touch as he reacted – not entirely against his will – to the seduction Sarenix was laying on him.
“Oh, I uhm … I just had a bad day at work, I guess,” Smokescreen replied, shifting carefully so as to not-obviously move his door out of easy reach. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I caught some slag for not meeting my quota over the last month.
“Oh?” the femme asked, voice full of curiosity and concern. “What is it that you sell?”
“Uhm, stocks actually. I’m a low level stock broker for Armature Corporation. Not exactly glamorous. Not really what you think of when you think high end weapons manufacture.” Smokescreen shrugged slightly and played with his energon cube nervously.
“Armature Corporation?” She paused, obviously searching her memory. “Oh yes, I recall hearing about them.”
“Yeah they’ve been in the news now and again,” Smokescreen replied with a nod. Of course, the only reason they’d been in the news was because of the carefully created paper trail and info sites that he and Swindle had created as bait for their hooks.
“So you didn’t sell enough shares? What are they going to do? I mean, it’s not like they can deactivate you right?” Sarenix asked with a laugh.
Smokescreen’s chuckle was a little forced. “Oh no, nothing like that, I mean, there have been a few stories about fired employees dropping off the face of the galaxy, but those are just stories. No, all my boss will do is fire me, and if he’s really pissed off, he’ll make sure I never work in the business again. And then there’s … well, with what I owe, I really can’t afford to be out a job right now.”
Sarenix leaned in and kissed the edge of Smokescreen’s audio with a not-so-gentle passion that sent him shivering with both desire and disgust. This femme was definitely a mech-eater.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, sweetspark.” Her hand slipped over his arm to his chest, coming to rest just below his bumper, her fingers brushing far too close to his interface port for comfort. “Tell me if there’s anything I can do to make it better. Anything at all ….”
Smokescreen carefully pulled away, looking at her with undisguised doubt mingled with both hope and a touch of lust. “Anything? You wouldn’t happen to know anyone willing to buy two million shares in Armature for cheap would you?” He let a soft chuckle escape to show that he really didn’t expect any such rescue from his predicament.
“Two million is an awful lot. But maybe you could sell them to me for cheap. Then you get to keep your job and I get a nice little nest egg for my twilight years.” Sarenix’s offer was whispered in a low, husky tone as she continued to explore his frame with her finger; keeping just on this side of what was acceptable in a public venue.
“I, hrm, I couldn’t ask that of you, Sarenix,” Smokescreen whispered back, a genuine stutter forming in his engine as his traitorous body reacted to her ministrations. “I mean, even for cheap that’s a lot of credits, and I wouldn’t feel right taking advantage of you like that.”
“Who’s taking advantage? It’s not like you pulled a gun on me and forced me to buy, now is it?” she asked. “And after all, I’ll be getting the better part of this deal, won’t I? From what I’ve seen, Amateur stock is constantly increasing, so my small donation to your cause will get me more than enough to make up for the loss of a few million credits. And who knows, if I’m really lucky, maybe you’ll be very, very grateful for my help.” Her last words were said in a low, sensual purr before she leaned in and captured Smokescreen’s mouth in a heated kiss that caused his engine to jump a gear.
As soon as it was safe to pull away, Smokescreen broke contact and placed a gentle finger on the femme’s lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Sarenix. I mean, I’m attracted to you. Really, really attracted to you, but I think we’re going to get into some serious trouble if we let this go where it’s headed. At least in public.”
Sarenix pouted slightly.
“But maybe we could go back out onto the dance floor for another song or two and then we can find someplace a bit more private to figure everything else out?” Smokescreen asked, slipping out of his seat and offering his hand to the femme.
She took his offer and together they glided out toward the middle of the floor where Smokescreen was sure he had a crowd to melt into if required. He was about to pull her close when he was interrupted by a black hand on his arm.
“Excuse me, Lady,” Swindle said with a winning smile. “Would you mind terribly if I steal your partner away? I’ve been eyeing him all night and couldn’t pass up the chance.”
Without waiting for a response, he slipped in between Sarenix and Smokescreen and swept the Praxian toward the edge of the dance floor. Smokescreen smiled apologetically toward the alien even as he allowed himself to be lead.
“What are you doing?” he hissed over the comm. lines, managing to never lose the smile.
“Making sure your head is in the right place,” Swindle replied over the same secure line, his voice low.
“Why wouldn’t it be? Frag it, Swindle, you’re going to risk the whole con coming in here like this!”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Oh I dunno. Maybe the fact that even I can tell she’s not buying it. Maybe the fact that she and the Skuxxoid aren’t as dumb or as greedy as we thought they were. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m not an idiot, Smokescreen.”
“What precisely is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I can see you changing tack, Ace. You’re getting too close and too touchy feely with the mark.”
“First off I’m not the one initiating this. She’s a predator, Swindle! We knew she was going to come on to me, so don’t you dare get all jealous! And secondly, you agreed to this plan knowing full well what this was going to lead to!”
“This isn’t jealousy. This is facts. And the fact is whenever a deal goes south you go back to what you know best,” Swindle hissed as he pulled Smokescreen almost painfully close, completely ignoring his partner’s arguments to the contrary.
“Oh? And what’s that?” Smokescreen sneered.
“It’s always the same. Job goes bad and you whore yourself out. Every. Damn. Time.”
Smokescreen stiffened and pulled away from Swindle. “Go frag yourself,” he growled, pain and anger written in his optics.“We have the potential for a lot of credits here and I am not going to let you ruin this with your idiot possessiveness!”
Swindle kept hold of Smokescreen’s arm, tightening his grip. “Yeah, we’ll have a lot of credits up until you gamble them away. Which given your streak, will be before we even leave this slagpit."
“Let go of me!” Smokescreen hissed out loud, his optics going dull as he pulled away from Swindle emotionally as well as physically.
He bit back the cruel words he wanted to say knowing that it would just lead to a fight and serious lasting damage. As much as he hated Swindle in this moment, he knew that in a few hours or a few days, they would both be over the anger. So long as he didn’t give in to the desire to verbally gut Swindle right here on the dance floor. Instead, he turned his back on his partner, put the smile back firmly in place, and strolled back to Sarenix.
---
Smokescreen made his way back to the spaceport after leaving Sarenix alone in an old hotel passed out from far too much high grade mixed in with some carefully formulated drugs. The Skuxxoid would find her when she failed to check in at whatever rendezvous point they had set up. By the time they realized that the nemesis shield was faulty and the stocks were forgeries, Smokescreen and Swindle would be well on their way to another job.
“Bout time you got back,” Swindle grumbled as Smokescreen entered the ship’s cargo bay. “Have fun with the alien?” Swindle’s tone was petulant and he never turned to look as Smokescreen, instead continuing to focus on putting away his various weapons in the walls of the bay.
“Do I look like I have that hideous paint on me?” Smokescreen snapped, heading immediately to the bridge.
He quickly arranged for his departure permissions and started the pre-flight checklist, his processor whirling with all of the nasty things he wanted to say to his partner. He never noticed Swindle slip in on silent feet until he was right behind the pilot’s chair.
“You know, you’re not one to talk about hideous paint, there, Smokes. She wasn’t that bad, I guess. For a primitive Cybertronian wannabe.”
The Praxian’s doors jumped slightly, the only hint that Smokescreen had been startled. He continued to get the ship ready to fly, completely ignoring Swindle.
“So,” Swindle asked hesitantly. “You get the credits?”
Smokescreen paused in his checklist just long enough to pull a small box out of his pocket and toss it on a nearby console.
Swindle opened the box, optics lighting with greed as he examined the contents. Two million in Nebulon Republic credits; easily transferable to any form of currency on any one of a hundred worlds in the sector. Between this and the credits Swindle got from the Skuxxoid, they would be set for a good long while.
Swindle put the credits away and looked at Smokescreen’s back. There wasn’t a hint of scuffed paint anywhere on the Praxian, and there would have been no time for him to properly buff out any scratches. The only conclusion was that Smokescreen had been telling the truth and that Swindle’s jealousy had gotten the better of him. Again. Admitting that he’d been wrong wasn’t something that sat well will Swindle, but facing a potentially long trip in total silence was worse than swallowing his pride.
“Look, I’m sorry, Ace. I jumped to the wrong conclusion there. We’re okay, right?” Swindle asked slowly.
“Yeah. Fine.” Smokescreen’s reply was distracted and full of irritation.
Taking the small victory, even though he knew it was nothing more than a masqueraded grenade, Swindle turned and left the room, heading into the common area of the tricked out cargo freighter.
A few hours later Smokescreen put the ship on autopilot and headed back for some fuel. As he entered the common area, he completely ignored Swindle; the only sign of his continued irritation was the stiff angle of his doors. Whether the irritation was at his partner, himself, or the situation in general Swindle didn't know. What he did know was that it was about time he did something to relax the Praxian before the grenade exploded into something irreparable.
Slipping up behind the blue and burgundy mech, he slid one hand up Smokescreen's back between his door hinges. "We need to talk, Smokes. And you need to stop hating me."
Smokescreen twisted away but Swindle held him in place against the energon dispenser. "We can't work like this if you're going to hold a grudge because I was an idiot."
"I don't hate you," Smokescreen murmured as Swindle began to pet his doors. "I'm just pissed of that you don't trust me. After all this time you still think I'm going to cheat on you for slag and giggles."
"Yeah, I know, Smokey," Swindle replied slowly, mapping out those sensitive doors he knew so well. "I just-" He paused, clearing his vents slowly. "Truth is it's not that I don't trust you. I just- I can't lose you Smokescreen. Not now, not ever. And every time you go into one of these long cons I keep thinking that you're never going to come back. That you'll come to your senses and find someone better."
Swindle stepped back as soon as he'd made the admission, ready for the rejection that, on some level, he always knew was coming. Smokescreen turned and looked at his partner, surprise and concern written in his optics.
"Why would you think that? I mean, yeah, you seriously piss me off sometimes but I promise you, Swin, I am not going anywhere. I may look, but you are the only mech I want to touch."
He stepped in close to Swindle, pulling the smaller mech into a hug before kissing him with a deep and comforting passion.
It was the only invitation Swindle needed. He pressed in as close as their body types would allow, his hand roaming feverishly over Smokescreen's body, mapping out every inch of a frame he knew almost as well as his own. Black fingers traced the lines of transformation seams scratching rough marks in the blue and burgundy finish of his partner.
Smokescreen groaned, half in pleasure, half in pain as he leaned into the touch. It was always rough with them, but this time it was rougher than usual.
"Swin," Smokescreen murmured around the kiss. "Swin, slow down. I-" He cut off with a gasp as Swindle dug his fingers in between a seam and began to tug at the wiring hidden just below the surface.
"... mine ..." Swindle murmured. "My Smokey ..." The words were repeated again and again in a fevered mantra as he pushed Smokescreen back against a table.
It was all Smokescreen could do to keep up as he was consumed by his lover. Swindle's hands were everywhere at once, his mouth marking every surface with kisses and bites as if marking Smokescreen as his own.
"Swin, I-" Smokescreen cried out in pain as Swindle bit down on his neck, hard enough to draw energon from the cables.
The blue and burgundy mech pulled back, rubbing at the mark Swindle's dental plates had left. "Whoa, calm down, Swin. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
"You can't leave me," Swindle whispered.
The look in his optics should have sent off warning bells, but Smokescreen only smiled, running a gentle hand over Swindle's cheek.
"I swear to you, I am not going anywhere."
He leaned in and kissed Swindle with infinite gentleness. "We don't have to do this fast, love. We have all the time in the universe."
With those words of reassurance, he took Swindle's hand and led him to their shared quarters. As soon as he reached the berth, Smokescreen gently tugged his lover down to sit beside him.
“There’s nothing wrong with slow, Swin,” he said, running the flat of one hand down Swindle’s arm, tracing over every angle and seam before leaning in to catch his partner’s mouth in a soft kiss.
“Slow is memorable. Slow is sensual. Slow can be more consuming than any fast burning fire.” Each statement was punctuated with teasingly gentle kissed on mouth, jaw, neck.
Swindle moaned in response, his hands moving of their own volition to stroke, grab, and tease Smokescreen’s body. His actions filled with frenetic heat and Smokescreen pulled back, catching Swindle’s hands in his own.
“Slow, love. Slow. This isn’t a race,” he said quietly, bringing those black hands up to his mouth, kissing each finger in turn.
He shifted on the berth so that they were facing before pulling the smaller mech into his lap. “Just touch me. I’m already yours, there’s no need to scratch your name in my finish.”
Swindle settled in against Smokescreen and grinned wickedly. “Hrm, ‘Property of Swindle. You touch, you die’. I think I like the idea of branding that into your aft.”
“No! Bad Swindle! No brandings!” Smokescreen chided with a chuckle, slapping his lightly on the arm. The words and the look in Swindle’s optics sent a slight shiver through Smokescreen. He knew, on some level, that this wasn’t a joke, but he dismissed the concern immediately. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle Swindle if this possessive streak became more than a cute clinginess.
“Ow! Partner abuse!” Swindle cried in mock pain before grinning lecherously. “If we’re going that route, you need to let me go find the vibro-cuffs and the silk cord.”
“No,” Smokescreen replied simply as he went back to molesting his lover’s neck. He trailed soft kisses and gentle bites along Swindle’s jaw and neck as he teased the smaller mech’s grill and headlights.
He continued his gentle ministrations, waiting for Swindle to respond in kind, but all the smaller mech did was squirm in Smokescreen’s lap, sending out waves of nervous energy.
“Swindle, please,” Smokescreen said more than a little sadly. “I need this to be more than just a quick ‘face. I need us to be more than just convenient berth buddies.”
Swindle cleared his vents slowly. This was all so far out of his comfort zone. All he wanted to do was pin Smokescreen to the berth and ravage him until they both overloaded again and again. But he knew that if he did that, he’d lose his partner. And it wasn’t as if the teasing didn’t feel nice.
Smokescreen saw the hesitation written all over Swindle’s face and came to an immediate decision.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Fine, you want dominance? I’ll give you dominance.”
Instantly he lifted the smaller mech off his lap and pinned him to the berth. Yes, Swindle was stronger and faster, but Smokescreen had bulk and surprise on his side. He took hold of Swindle’s wrists and pressed them down.
“We’re doing this my way and I don’t want any more complaints,” Smokescreen growled before capturing Swindle’s mouth in a rough, heated kiss.
Swindle moaned up into the dominant kiss, arching against Smokescreen in an almost primal need for more. The Praxian took a firm hold of his lover's black hands, and guided them in a lesson of how to touch a lover gently.
"I'm not going anywhere, Swin," he purred. "Just touch and stroke and be gentle. You make me weak when you treat me right."
He let go of Swindle's hands, trusting the smaller mech to do as he was asked, while he focused his attention back to driving his lover slowly wild.
Swindle melted into Smokescreen's touch and words, allowing his hands to roam where they chose. He traced over Smokescreen's doors, moving slowly down to his chest. Black fingers trailed over bumper and headlights before moving down to Smokescreen’s abdomen; mapping out the edges of the arrow with a teasingly light touch.
“I always did love that arrow, Smokes,” Swindle purred as he took hold of Smokescreen’s hips. “Don’t know why. It just seems to promise so much.”
“Seeing as we’re not organic and my cable’s not housed there, I don’t see why,” Smokescreen murmured with a chuckle before going back to nibbling on Swindle’s neck.
“Maybe it’s because it reminds me that that fine aft is on the other side,” Swindle purred, before grabbing Smokescreen’s aft with both hands.
Smokescreen jumped at the sudden molestation, his engine slipping up a gear in response.
“Ah, now that’s what I want to hear,” Swindle murmured. “I love the sound of your engine screaming out in response. And I love that I’m the one doing it.”
He captured Smokescreen’s mouth in a heated, possessive kiss, raking his fingers up his lover’s back. With deceptively gently fingers he ran his hands over the lower edge of Smokescreen’s doors, tracing out the sensitive seams and angles.
Smokescreen moved in closer to his partner, ignoring that his chest was pressed almost painfully close to Swindle’s. The ache was minor compared to the thrilling vibrations of their engines growling so close together. This was just so good, so completely right in every way imaginable.
“Primus, Swin …,” Smokescreen groaned, passion causing his voice to tremble. “Oh, primus …Want you so much…need so much.”
Smokescreen’s plea set off Swindle’s own greedy need for more. He would never have admitted it outside of the throes of passion, but he needed this mech so much more than just as a partner. Something felt complete when they were like this, but he knew he needed more. With shaking, hesitant fingers he traced the outline of Smokescreen’s interface port.
The Praxian pulled back at the touch, looking down as his partner with undisguised lust mixed with concern.
“Are you sure?” he asked. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the hardline - oh, he very much wanted that kind of intimacy - but he never thought that Swindle would ever have enough trust for it.
Swindle nodded slowly and opened his own interface port. “I need more. Please.”
The quiet, needy admission was all Smokescreen needed. He retracted his own cover and withdrew Swindle’s cable. Relishing in the feel of the smaller mech trembling beneath him, Smokescreen teased the cable with a slow, deliberate caress.
Swindle arched up with a cry, desperately trying to make the connection. “Fraggin’ tease!” he growled.
“You know it, sugarbot,” Smokescreen murmured, the slight tremble in his own voice betraying his own need.
He felt Swindle’s hand touch his port, dark fingers withdrawing his cable slowly, obviously trying not to rush. Smokescreen buried his face in the crook of Swindle’s neck as a shudder racked through his body. It had been far too long since he had been this intimate with anyone and he found himself consumed with a need for more. And he wanted it immediately.
With trembling hands he plugged into Swindle, his cry mingling with his partner’s as the smaller mech made his own connection.
”Stars!” Swindle cried out over the newly created connection as data packets began to fly between them.
A hundred curses in a hundred galactic languages formed in their minds, neither quite sure which one was providing them. They slipped into each other’s mind, past firewalls and filters, becoming one being. It was all Smokescreen could do to remain sure of his own identity as he was subsumed within Swindle, as he felt his partner do the same in his own systems. There was nothing more intimate than this moment as nearly every part of them was laid bare for the other to see.
That was when Smokescreen heard the soft words drifting up from his partner; soft words that were obviously intended to be kept under lock and key.
“Don’t leave me, Smokey. Can’t let you leave me. Need you! Love you!”
Swindle froze and pulled back both physically and emotionally as soon as he realized what had slipped out.
Smokescreen looked at Swindle and captured his face with his hands, stopping the smaller mech from closing off completely.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I am never going anywhere, Swindle. I can’t lose you either. I love you too much for that.”
With the simple, small admission both mechs shattered as overload consumed them utterly.
---
Smokescreen came online slowly, his arms firmly wrapped around Swindle. At some point after overload he had fallen to his side and had pulled the smaller mech tight against him. He could feel the lazy data packets floating back and forth across their still locked ports, but couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it just yet.
Instead he placed a gentle kiss on the top of Swindle’s helm and snuggled in to a more comfortable position.
“Hrm?” Swindle murmured the wordless question as he latched further onto his partner like a space barnacle. He nuzzled into Smokescreen’s chest and sighed happily.
“Yeah, I agree,” Smokescreen replied to the unsaid comment. “That was damned nice. So, no more rough stuff and threats to brand me?”
Swindle chuckled wickedly. “We both know you like the ropes and vibrocuffs as much as I do, Smokes, so don’t play otherwise.”
He pulled away just far enough to plant a kiss on Smokescreen’s lips.
“And as for the branding. I dunno. Seems to me I have even more to protect now,” he murmured over the connection. “Mine. Always mine.”
“That goes both ways, Swin,” Smokescreen replied, drawing a finger up one tan arm. “You’re mine always too.”
With a soft noise of protest, he carefully unhooked their ports before lying back on the berth and pulling Swindle close. The ship would warn them if they were needed on the bridge. Until then they had all the time in the universe.