[IDW] Marry Me - Chapter Seven
Sep. 21st, 2015 09:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus, Swerve, Alien OCs, offhand mentions of others
Rated K+ for this chapter
The fallout of the kiss and Ultra Magnus getting a whap with a clue-by-four. Finally.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - "I Won't Say I'm in Love," Hercules OST
It was going well up until the kiss. In fact, it was going so well Ultra Magnus couldn't help but marvel at how good of an actor Swerve was. He flawlessly glided into the role he'd been given. He played his part as though it were natural to him. He seamlessly notched himself into Ultra Magnus' life and if Ultra Magnus hadn't known better, he would have thought they really had been secretly dating the entire time.
Swerve was a marvel. He was so much better at this game than Ultra Magnus.
Admittedly, Ultra Magnus failed at being an actor. Minimus played at being Ultra Magnus for so long that it was second nature to him. He was Ultra Magnus. It was no longer an act. But pretending to be someone's promised? That was something he had no experience with. He struggled.
Swerve was a natural. Swerve was amazing. Ultra Magnus spent far too much time watching Swerve, missing out on what the Exelons were saying. They had to get his attention more than once and he'd had to sheepishly apologize. Especially when Swerve left to fix Ultra Magnus' drink properly.
He'd watched Swerve go with a sense of wonder. The Exelons had teased him about missing his promised, about them being unable to keep their eyes off each other. Ultra Magnus hadn't corrected them. He'd lied and agreed.
Swerve returned with a smile and a sense of pride as he presented Ultra Magnus with his perfectly blended engex. Magnus had been even more impressed.
Clearly, this ruse was going to succeed spectacularly. He might have stumbled into being attached to Swerve, but it was proving to have been an excellent coincidence.
Then there was the kiss, and Swerve looking at him with a flickering optical band, his field a chaotic mess of misery and disappointment and sadness. Ultra Magnus knew then that something deeper was going on. Something more than the awkwardness of this ruse.
He knew he'd have to get to the bottom of it.
But they couldn't abandon the party. Not with Rodimus getting increasingly intoxicated. Or with Whirl challenging one of the Exelons to a dart tournament. (And please let that not be another event that would allow him to become their King or their Head Medical Officer or something else ridiculous). Or with the Exelons trying to convince Siren to sing karaoke which was a good idea for no ear or audial present.
Ultra Magnus couldn't leave. But he could pay more attention to Swerve and notice things he hadn't noticed before.
Like how much Swerve really did seem to know about him. Or how shy Swerve could be when asked the direct questions. Or how charming he was. Or how amusing. When Ultra Magnus actually paid attention to his words, there was intelligence in there as well.
It was almost as if he was seeing Swerve for the first time. But whether this was the real Swerve or the acting Swerve, Ultra Magnus did not know. That observation was a bit of a cause for concern.
Maybe he was getting in too deep here. He wished he could have gone to Skids or Getaway for advice. Both Special Ops agents would have had some excellent advice he could have used. He and Swerve both, in fact. And he trusted they could keep a secret.
Well, he trusted Skids at any rate. He was still uncertain about Getaway. There was something about that mech that Ultra Magnus didn't quite like. Mirage was also an option, he considered, but the few who knew of the ruse, the better.
Sighing to himself, Magnus returned his attention to the conversation at hand and Swerve. Both bore watching.
Swerve's field was all over the place. Luckily, the Exelons could neither sense nor read it, but any passing Cybertronian would know his emotional state in a second. Swerve was a dizzying mix of excitement and dread and anticipation and sadness. None of it showed on his face as he'd planted a big, friendly smile upon his return and proceeded to charm and dazzle everyone around him.
He'd apologized for needing a moment, that all the glitz and glamour was overwhelming, and then dove helm first into his role. He sat close to Ultra Magnus, plating both warm and buzzing with energy. His visor was bright.
Ultra Magnus really needed to get him alone so they could talk. He'd meant his concern. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Swerve. This ruse was difficult enough.
But there was still business to be had.
“You're not unwell, I trust?” the Exelon who had introduced himself as Korex asked, his concern certainly feigned as he looked at Swerve.
Swerve managed a smile. “Not anymore.” He looked up at Magnus, something in his visor warm. “Mags knows how to take care of me.”
He patted Ultra Magnus' thigh and then left his hand there, a warm and barely tangible presence on Magnus' leg. It was on the list of acceptable personal contact, Swerve's hand closer to his knee than Magnus' pelvis. It was a smart move, an action considered intimate, that would cement their association to the curious and suspicious Exelons.
“It is my pleasure,” Ultra Magnus said, returning Swerve's smile with one of his own. He rested his hand over the back of Swerve's chair again, his fingers brushing Swerve's opposite shoulder.
“You two truly are adorable. A perfect match,” Oxiore said. Her smile was sharp, an edge of insincerity in her tone. She was one of the Grand Regent's assistants, surely sent as a spy for her mistress.
“Thank you,” Ultra Magnus said. “We are very happy together.” His thumb stroked the back of Swerve's cowling, prompting a full frame shiver from the bartender.
“I can see that,” another one of the Exelons said with a nod.
There was a shout from the other side of the room, interrupting whatever they had to say next. Ultra Magnus' helm swung to the left to assess the situation and nearly levitated out of his chair. He didn't care what or how, but there was no reason why the floor should suddenly be clearing to make room for Smokescreen and a warrior-type Exelon squaring off. Or for what appeared to be Jackpot on the side, taking bets with a gleeful look.
No. Absolutely not.
“Excuse me,” he said. “There is something I must take care of.”
And where was Rodimus? Nowhere to be found, of course. Magnus should not be surprised.
“I'll go with him,” Swerve said behind Ultra Magnus, no doubt eager to escape the scrutiny of their company.
“What are they doing?” Swerve asked as he caught up to Magnus, whose large frame was easily clearing a path.
He ex-vented. “I do not know and I do not care. All I see is the potential for property damage.”
Personal damage as well since the bar was still crowded despite the lateness of the evening. While the Exelons weren't much smaller than the average Cybertronian, they weren’t made of metal. They were far more breakable.
And with their luck, the Exelons probably had some convoluted punishment lined up for people who caused property damage. What if beating an Exelon in combat meant Smokescreen would now be their head of banking?
Oh, Primus. This had to be stopped.
Ultra Magnus plowed through the crowd and didn't stop until he planted himself between Smokescreen and his Exelon challenger.
Both combatants protested. While Ultra Magnus had no authority over the Exelon, he could certainly order Smokescreen back to the ship. The gambler, swaying more than a little drunkenly on his feet, made a face but obeyed. So that no one could take his place, Ultra Magnus laid down a new rule quite loudly.
No challenging the Exelons. No fighting the Exelons. Or they would all be subject to discipline. Ultra Magnus backed himself up with a trademark glare.
No one argued.
It would not be the first ridiculous behavior he would find himself interrupting throughout the night. And while each instance was more irritating than the last, they all had the added benefit of being excellent distractions. The crew of the Lost Light were good at distracting without even trying. Thank Primus.
It also meant that Ultra Magnus spent little time cooped up in a booth with Swerve and several inquisitive Exelons. It helped that Swerve stayed by his side, offering advice or engex or coolant. He helped Ultra Magnus keep an optic out for trouble, and was the first to notice when Rodimus started dancing on the table.
It was late before they could escape, so late that it was almost morning on Exelon Five. Apparently, the locals took celebrations too a whole new level. No wonder Rodimus liked it here so much.
His necessary conversation with Swerve was even more delayed as Ultra Magnus had to make sure certain members of the crew would make it back to the Lost Light safely and without causing further incidents. Only when he was sure there were no crewmembers left who could cause issues could he turn his attention to Swerve, who had remained by his side the entire time, offering assistance where he could.
Swerve had actually been the one to drag a giggling, inebriated Tailgate back to his habsuite, where he deposited said tittering minibot into the arms of a very flabbergasted Cyclonus.
Back on the Lost Light, Ultra Magnus ex-vented relief and looked down at Swerve. “If you are not too tired, I believe that now is a good time for that talk.”
Swerve offered him a nervous smile. “To your office then?”
Ultra Magnus shook his head. He frowned, though it was not directed at Swerve specifically.
“No. Our last meeting there prompted some lewd jokes that I bear little interest in repeating. They are also unacceptable. We will speak in my quarters unless that would make you uncomfortable.”
It was ridiculous how quickly that particular rumor had spread. One evening spent discussing the situation with Swerve and by morning, Ultra Magnus had already heard the whispers. They followed him wherever he went. Skids even had the nerve to congratulate him and Magnus had been so flummoxed, he hadn't been able to come up with a proper retort in time.
How anyone had known that Swerve had been in his office, Ultra Magnus did not know. No one had seen them enter. No one had seen them leave. Which left the perpetrator as whoever had been on monitor duty.
Ultra Magnus made a mental note to check the duty logs to find whoever it was and slap them with an invasion of privacy citation.
“No. That's, um, that's fine.” Swerve wrung his fingers together, his field that same mix of emotions that made Ultra Magnus' head ache. “Besides, it'll be good for our image, right? Anyone sees me going into your habsuite and they'll assume that we'll be doing things normal couples do in privacy together.”
Normal couples. Swerve placed a certain emphasis on the term. Ultra Magnus did not fail to catch this and he took note of it. Perhaps within it was the route of the issue. Was Swerve having difficulty pretending? His behavior hadn't made it seem the case, but Ultra Magnus supposed he would get his answer soon enough.
He nodded. “You have a very good point.” Ultra Magnus gestured down the hall. “Shall we?”
“Whatever you say, Mags.” Swerve grinned, but the edges of his mouth quivered.
It wasn't fear, Ultra Magnus was sure of it. But something else. Uncertainty perhaps.
He did not object to the nickname, even though they were alone and Swerve had no reason to use it. Whatever eased Swerve's anxieties.
An awkward silence settled between them. Ultra Magnus tried to put Swerve at ease, but he was focusing too hard on discerning Swerve's discomfort. He had not wished to upset Swerve and clearly, he had. Magnus was disappointed in himself.
When they arrived, Ultra Magnus gestured Swerve in ahead of him. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “Can I get you anything?”
Swerve squeezed his hands together and looked around the room. There wasn't much to see. Ultra Magnus had his desk, his berth, and a few chairs for when Rodimus often invited himself to visit. But unlike many habsuites, he had minimal decoration. Eventually, he hoped that would change. Now that the word was out about Minimus, perhaps he could be himself a bit more.
“No. Thank you. I'm good.” Swerve pulled himself into one of the chairs and his hands settled in his lap, fingers once again tangling together.
Ultra Magnus selected his own chair, dragged it closer to Swerve's, and carefully seated himself upon it. He leaned back, out of Swerve's space for the metallurgist's comfort, and rested his hands on his thighs.
“Now,” Ultra Magnus began as gently as he could manage. “Please tell me what is wrong.”
Swerve dragged in a shuddering ventilation. He suddenly found the wall to be infinitely more fascinating than optical contact with Ultra Magnus. “It's ridiculous.”
“It is obviously not if it is concerning you,” Ultra Magnus said. He let his shoulders sag a little, his field drifting out in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “Swerve, you know I am not the sort to tease, taunt, or laugh. I only ask that you be honest with me.”
He watched Swerve suck his bottom lip into his mouth and gnaw upon it. His faceplate colored a pale pink.
“This is hard,” Swerve finally bit out.
Ultra Magnus blinked. “Given that you are excelling at this, I don't understand.”
Swerve raked a hand over his helm. “That's only because I want it so much,” he said, his gaze briefly swinging toward Ultra Magnus before it flitted back to the wall. His shoulders slumped. “It's just... I... you're good at this, too. Except for the part where you were pretty indifferent to the future. Which it's not your fault that I'm way more invested in this. It's just a game, right? A ruse to save Rodimus' life. Except it's kind of not staying a game for me. It's staying real.”
Ultra Magnus tried to digest that spill of words. Swerve had spoken in such a rush that it took him a moment to pick through the language data. He felt he was coming to a conclusion, a worrisome one, and he didn't want to be wrong.
“You--”
“I forgot, okay?” Swerve blurted, his hands so wrung together that surely it was causing him pain. The chair rattled beneath him as he turned his gaze back toward Ultra Magnus. “You were being so nice and talking to me like I actually meant something, even when I was crying for no reason. And then I don't even know what I was thinking except that I was kissing you because, you know, maybe you do like me like I like you.”
Yes.
There it was. The conclusion that he didn't want to draw.
Ultra Magnus worked his intake. “You--”
“I panicked,” Swerve interrupted again and his field spiked, agitation greater than everything else. “I kissed you and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for that Mags – Magnus – it won't happen again.”
Ultra Magnus cycled a ventilation. He considered several responses to Swerve's explanation and opted for seeking clarity on the most confusing part of it.
“Like me like I like you?” he repeated.
The heat in Swerve's faceplate darkened to near-red. “I like you,” he admitted quietly. His gaze found the floor. “A lot. Before all this started. And that's sorta making this whole thing very difficult and complicated because I'd gotten used to you not caring about me. But here you are pretending that you do and I can't seem to remember that it's not real.”
His field darkened, bleak and pained.
Swerve clenched his fingers together. “I know it's all for Rodimus' sake, and well, ours, too. Since the Exelons won't be happy to know we're involved in a fake relationship. But it's still hard. I'm sorry.” He sighed and finally looked up. “I'll adjust eventually. Don't worry. I promise I'll do better.”
This was not an eventuality Magnus had ever considered within the realm of possibility. He'd had no idea that Swerve liked him romantically. He'd thought Swerve barely tolerated him professionally. After all, how often had Magnus dragged him in for some violation of the Autobot code?
Ultra Magnus sat back in his chair, feeling more than a little overwhelmed and out of his depth. He had not prepared for this. It was too late. Swerve was involved, all of their sparks were on the line, and they couldn't go back. They were all invested in this.
Magnus let out a slow ventilation. “I apologize, Swerve. I did not consider such an outcome. Had I known... well, I would have found a way around this.” It pained him, it honestly did, to know that he would be causing Swerve discomfort. “Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?”
Swerve shook his helm. “No. What you're doing is enough.” Embarrassment darkened his field. “I thought, well, I thought you already knew I had a crush on you. I figured you were being polite by ignoring it.”
“No, Swerve. Had I known I would done my level best to try and avoid putting you in such an awkward situation.”
Of this, Magnus was certain. He could have found a way to replace Swerve. Convinced the Exelons that their spies had heard wrong. That Swerve was covering up for someone else. That Ultra Magnus' “partner” had been taught to always claim he was single. That Swerve had been lying about having a significant other for any number of reasons.
Magnus could have arranged for a volunteer among the crowd of singles, perhaps spoken with Rung about who would be most amenable and capable. But Swerve had been willing. He'd been eager. He hadn't once said 'no.' Ultra Magnus felt terrible.
Rodimus owed them all greatly for this.
Ultra Magnus clasped his hands together and modulated his field to project soothing calm and comfort. “We have little choice but to continue. However, I do not wish to make you unhappy. Clearly, our current system isn't working. What would you suggest as an alteration to make it easier for both of us?”
Swerve's gaze fell again. He fidgeted on the chair. “What if we...” he trailed off, field shrinking inward.
“I am willing to consider all suggestions,” Ultra Magnus urged.
Swerve's visor slowly lifted toward him. “What if we went full-time?”
Ultra Magnus tilted his helm. “I don't follow.”
He was beginning to learn Swerve's tells, reading agitation as the metallurgist's fingers tangled together. “It's hard to flipflop back and forth. To switch between being your fiance and just being me,” Swerve said. He snuck a glance at Magnus and then found the wall behind Magnus fascinating. “So what if we just... didn't?”
“Didn't what?”
“Didn't flipflop.” Swerve rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “What if we pretended all the time? Pretended that we really are dating. Make it real. Well, fake-real.”
Ultra Magnus slanted a look at Swerve. What he was suggesting, well, it would only hurt Swerve in the long run, for all that it might make it easier on him now. What if by the end Swerve couldn't let go? What if Ultra Magnus had to break his spark?
“And you think that would be easier?” he asked, skeptical.
“I'm not saying it won't hurt,” Swerve said. “Cause it will. But it's already hurting. And at least this way, it'll hurt less now and maybe later, too, because it'll feel like the end of a relationship. Like we gave it our best go, you know?” He offered a lop-sided grin.
Ultra Magnus cycled a ventilation. This didn't sound like the best solution to him, but if it would make Swerve more comfortable, he didn't want to argue. Oh, how he wished he could seek Rung's counsel on this. Somehow, he suspected that this course of action was not a good idea, only he couldn't articulate why.
“Very well.” Ultra Magnus inclined his head. “If you feel it is the better course of action, I will accept.”
Swerve's face all but lit up and Ultra Magnus wondered if maybe, this was a bad idea. They were only digging themselves deeper. But there was nothing to be done about it now. Best to make the most of a bad situation.
“However,” Ultra Magnus interjected, holding up his index finger. “I want you to promise there will be no more surprise kisses. I would prefer if we discuss these in advance. Agreed?”
Swerve's faceplate heated. He ducked his helm. “Agreed,” he murmured. “And I really am very sorry about that.”
“Apology accepted.” Ultra Magnus cycled a ventilation and lowered his hand. “Now, I suppose new rules must be instated. How would you define our relationship now that we are not 'flipflopping' as you put it.”
Swerve coughed into his hand. He looked as uncomfortable with this topic as Ultra Magnus felt.
“We could actually do things together? Other than whatever celebrations the Exelons have planned?” Swerve tentatively suggested. “Meet for energon? Come see each other for no reason? Share a, um, share a room? But not a berth!” His hands waved through the air, almost wildly. “I mean, I can sleep in a chair or something. It's just a thought.” Swerve shook his helm, face so bright that it glowed. “Never mind. Scratch the last suggestion. That's just too much.”
Ultra Magnus blinked. “Very well,” he conceded. “I am amenable to meeting for our daily rations. Certainly I can visit you while you are tending or cleaning your bar. You are more than welcome to stop by the bridge when I am present. Anything else?”
Swerve chuckled a little. “No, not that I can think of at the moment. Do you have any more rules for me? Anything you want me to do?” He sounded almost hopeful.
“No. You have been exemplary.” Which was the absolute truth. Though now that Ultra Magnus knew the reason behind it, his observations took on a whole new meaning.
He was at least relieved to get an answer and find a solution, even if it only made things more complicated.
In the meantime, Ultra Magnus made a mental note to contact Perceptor and Brainstorm, see if either of the two scientists had discovered anything new. Getting Rodimus free of that bomb was an utmost priority.
Ultra Magnus rose to his pedes. “Shall I escort you back to your room?”
“That would be the appropriate thing, I guess,” Swerve said. He slid from his chair and hesitated. He looked up at Ultra Magnus. “We're okay, right? I didn't weird you out?” Uncertainty slicked his plating down.
Ultra Magnus knelt on one knee. It brought him closer to Swerve's level and, he'd noticed, it calmed Swerve down. He rested a hand on Swerve's shoulder, hoping that he was not being too forward.
“No matter what happens at the end of this, we are going to remain friends,” Ultra Magnus said. He meant it, too. “I am neither angry nor upset, simply disappointed with myself for having hurt you.”
“It's not your fault!” Swerve blurted. “I should have said something sooner.”
“Be that as it may, I will do my utmost best to prevent your pain in the future.” Ultra Magnus offered another smile, his field nudging lightly against Swerve's. “Despite this, I am glad, Swerve, that you are the one to undertake this task with me.”
Swerve's smile in return was perhaps one of the first truly genuine and pleased smiles he had seen Swerve offer so far. “Thanks, Mags,” he said. “I promise I won't let you down.”
“I know.” Ultra Magnus squeezed his shoulder again and rose to his full height, which admittedly loomed over Swerve. As Minimus, he supposed they would be better matched. “Now, my dear, shall I escort you to your room?” He offered a hand.
Swerve snorted a laugh and gripped his index finger. “That would be most kind of you, sir. Most kind.” His lips twitched with restrained laughter.
They shared an amused look and Ultra Magnus was relieved to see Swerve finally relax.
****
a/n: Slowly but surely they are inching toward understanding. And poor Swerve, grasping at straws there. Poor Magnus, not quite grasping the situation. The ruse continues!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated. I do hope you are enjoying! ^_^
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus, Swerve, Alien OCs, offhand mentions of others
Rated K+ for this chapter
The fallout of the kiss and Ultra Magnus getting a whap with a clue-by-four. Finally.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - "I Won't Say I'm in Love," Hercules OST
Marry Me – Chapter Seven
It was going well up until the kiss. In fact, it was going so well Ultra Magnus couldn't help but marvel at how good of an actor Swerve was. He flawlessly glided into the role he'd been given. He played his part as though it were natural to him. He seamlessly notched himself into Ultra Magnus' life and if Ultra Magnus hadn't known better, he would have thought they really had been secretly dating the entire time.
Swerve was a marvel. He was so much better at this game than Ultra Magnus.
Admittedly, Ultra Magnus failed at being an actor. Minimus played at being Ultra Magnus for so long that it was second nature to him. He was Ultra Magnus. It was no longer an act. But pretending to be someone's promised? That was something he had no experience with. He struggled.
Swerve was a natural. Swerve was amazing. Ultra Magnus spent far too much time watching Swerve, missing out on what the Exelons were saying. They had to get his attention more than once and he'd had to sheepishly apologize. Especially when Swerve left to fix Ultra Magnus' drink properly.
He'd watched Swerve go with a sense of wonder. The Exelons had teased him about missing his promised, about them being unable to keep their eyes off each other. Ultra Magnus hadn't corrected them. He'd lied and agreed.
Swerve returned with a smile and a sense of pride as he presented Ultra Magnus with his perfectly blended engex. Magnus had been even more impressed.
Clearly, this ruse was going to succeed spectacularly. He might have stumbled into being attached to Swerve, but it was proving to have been an excellent coincidence.
Then there was the kiss, and Swerve looking at him with a flickering optical band, his field a chaotic mess of misery and disappointment and sadness. Ultra Magnus knew then that something deeper was going on. Something more than the awkwardness of this ruse.
He knew he'd have to get to the bottom of it.
But they couldn't abandon the party. Not with Rodimus getting increasingly intoxicated. Or with Whirl challenging one of the Exelons to a dart tournament. (And please let that not be another event that would allow him to become their King or their Head Medical Officer or something else ridiculous). Or with the Exelons trying to convince Siren to sing karaoke which was a good idea for no ear or audial present.
Ultra Magnus couldn't leave. But he could pay more attention to Swerve and notice things he hadn't noticed before.
Like how much Swerve really did seem to know about him. Or how shy Swerve could be when asked the direct questions. Or how charming he was. Or how amusing. When Ultra Magnus actually paid attention to his words, there was intelligence in there as well.
It was almost as if he was seeing Swerve for the first time. But whether this was the real Swerve or the acting Swerve, Ultra Magnus did not know. That observation was a bit of a cause for concern.
Maybe he was getting in too deep here. He wished he could have gone to Skids or Getaway for advice. Both Special Ops agents would have had some excellent advice he could have used. He and Swerve both, in fact. And he trusted they could keep a secret.
Well, he trusted Skids at any rate. He was still uncertain about Getaway. There was something about that mech that Ultra Magnus didn't quite like. Mirage was also an option, he considered, but the few who knew of the ruse, the better.
Sighing to himself, Magnus returned his attention to the conversation at hand and Swerve. Both bore watching.
Swerve's field was all over the place. Luckily, the Exelons could neither sense nor read it, but any passing Cybertronian would know his emotional state in a second. Swerve was a dizzying mix of excitement and dread and anticipation and sadness. None of it showed on his face as he'd planted a big, friendly smile upon his return and proceeded to charm and dazzle everyone around him.
He'd apologized for needing a moment, that all the glitz and glamour was overwhelming, and then dove helm first into his role. He sat close to Ultra Magnus, plating both warm and buzzing with energy. His visor was bright.
Ultra Magnus really needed to get him alone so they could talk. He'd meant his concern. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Swerve. This ruse was difficult enough.
But there was still business to be had.
“You're not unwell, I trust?” the Exelon who had introduced himself as Korex asked, his concern certainly feigned as he looked at Swerve.
Swerve managed a smile. “Not anymore.” He looked up at Magnus, something in his visor warm. “Mags knows how to take care of me.”
He patted Ultra Magnus' thigh and then left his hand there, a warm and barely tangible presence on Magnus' leg. It was on the list of acceptable personal contact, Swerve's hand closer to his knee than Magnus' pelvis. It was a smart move, an action considered intimate, that would cement their association to the curious and suspicious Exelons.
“It is my pleasure,” Ultra Magnus said, returning Swerve's smile with one of his own. He rested his hand over the back of Swerve's chair again, his fingers brushing Swerve's opposite shoulder.
“You two truly are adorable. A perfect match,” Oxiore said. Her smile was sharp, an edge of insincerity in her tone. She was one of the Grand Regent's assistants, surely sent as a spy for her mistress.
“Thank you,” Ultra Magnus said. “We are very happy together.” His thumb stroked the back of Swerve's cowling, prompting a full frame shiver from the bartender.
“I can see that,” another one of the Exelons said with a nod.
There was a shout from the other side of the room, interrupting whatever they had to say next. Ultra Magnus' helm swung to the left to assess the situation and nearly levitated out of his chair. He didn't care what or how, but there was no reason why the floor should suddenly be clearing to make room for Smokescreen and a warrior-type Exelon squaring off. Or for what appeared to be Jackpot on the side, taking bets with a gleeful look.
No. Absolutely not.
“Excuse me,” he said. “There is something I must take care of.”
And where was Rodimus? Nowhere to be found, of course. Magnus should not be surprised.
“I'll go with him,” Swerve said behind Ultra Magnus, no doubt eager to escape the scrutiny of their company.
“What are they doing?” Swerve asked as he caught up to Magnus, whose large frame was easily clearing a path.
He ex-vented. “I do not know and I do not care. All I see is the potential for property damage.”
Personal damage as well since the bar was still crowded despite the lateness of the evening. While the Exelons weren't much smaller than the average Cybertronian, they weren’t made of metal. They were far more breakable.
And with their luck, the Exelons probably had some convoluted punishment lined up for people who caused property damage. What if beating an Exelon in combat meant Smokescreen would now be their head of banking?
Oh, Primus. This had to be stopped.
Ultra Magnus plowed through the crowd and didn't stop until he planted himself between Smokescreen and his Exelon challenger.
Both combatants protested. While Ultra Magnus had no authority over the Exelon, he could certainly order Smokescreen back to the ship. The gambler, swaying more than a little drunkenly on his feet, made a face but obeyed. So that no one could take his place, Ultra Magnus laid down a new rule quite loudly.
No challenging the Exelons. No fighting the Exelons. Or they would all be subject to discipline. Ultra Magnus backed himself up with a trademark glare.
No one argued.
It would not be the first ridiculous behavior he would find himself interrupting throughout the night. And while each instance was more irritating than the last, they all had the added benefit of being excellent distractions. The crew of the Lost Light were good at distracting without even trying. Thank Primus.
It also meant that Ultra Magnus spent little time cooped up in a booth with Swerve and several inquisitive Exelons. It helped that Swerve stayed by his side, offering advice or engex or coolant. He helped Ultra Magnus keep an optic out for trouble, and was the first to notice when Rodimus started dancing on the table.
It was late before they could escape, so late that it was almost morning on Exelon Five. Apparently, the locals took celebrations too a whole new level. No wonder Rodimus liked it here so much.
His necessary conversation with Swerve was even more delayed as Ultra Magnus had to make sure certain members of the crew would make it back to the Lost Light safely and without causing further incidents. Only when he was sure there were no crewmembers left who could cause issues could he turn his attention to Swerve, who had remained by his side the entire time, offering assistance where he could.
Swerve had actually been the one to drag a giggling, inebriated Tailgate back to his habsuite, where he deposited said tittering minibot into the arms of a very flabbergasted Cyclonus.
Back on the Lost Light, Ultra Magnus ex-vented relief and looked down at Swerve. “If you are not too tired, I believe that now is a good time for that talk.”
Swerve offered him a nervous smile. “To your office then?”
Ultra Magnus shook his head. He frowned, though it was not directed at Swerve specifically.
“No. Our last meeting there prompted some lewd jokes that I bear little interest in repeating. They are also unacceptable. We will speak in my quarters unless that would make you uncomfortable.”
It was ridiculous how quickly that particular rumor had spread. One evening spent discussing the situation with Swerve and by morning, Ultra Magnus had already heard the whispers. They followed him wherever he went. Skids even had the nerve to congratulate him and Magnus had been so flummoxed, he hadn't been able to come up with a proper retort in time.
How anyone had known that Swerve had been in his office, Ultra Magnus did not know. No one had seen them enter. No one had seen them leave. Which left the perpetrator as whoever had been on monitor duty.
Ultra Magnus made a mental note to check the duty logs to find whoever it was and slap them with an invasion of privacy citation.
“No. That's, um, that's fine.” Swerve wrung his fingers together, his field that same mix of emotions that made Ultra Magnus' head ache. “Besides, it'll be good for our image, right? Anyone sees me going into your habsuite and they'll assume that we'll be doing things normal couples do in privacy together.”
Normal couples. Swerve placed a certain emphasis on the term. Ultra Magnus did not fail to catch this and he took note of it. Perhaps within it was the route of the issue. Was Swerve having difficulty pretending? His behavior hadn't made it seem the case, but Ultra Magnus supposed he would get his answer soon enough.
He nodded. “You have a very good point.” Ultra Magnus gestured down the hall. “Shall we?”
“Whatever you say, Mags.” Swerve grinned, but the edges of his mouth quivered.
It wasn't fear, Ultra Magnus was sure of it. But something else. Uncertainty perhaps.
He did not object to the nickname, even though they were alone and Swerve had no reason to use it. Whatever eased Swerve's anxieties.
An awkward silence settled between them. Ultra Magnus tried to put Swerve at ease, but he was focusing too hard on discerning Swerve's discomfort. He had not wished to upset Swerve and clearly, he had. Magnus was disappointed in himself.
When they arrived, Ultra Magnus gestured Swerve in ahead of him. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “Can I get you anything?”
Swerve squeezed his hands together and looked around the room. There wasn't much to see. Ultra Magnus had his desk, his berth, and a few chairs for when Rodimus often invited himself to visit. But unlike many habsuites, he had minimal decoration. Eventually, he hoped that would change. Now that the word was out about Minimus, perhaps he could be himself a bit more.
“No. Thank you. I'm good.” Swerve pulled himself into one of the chairs and his hands settled in his lap, fingers once again tangling together.
Ultra Magnus selected his own chair, dragged it closer to Swerve's, and carefully seated himself upon it. He leaned back, out of Swerve's space for the metallurgist's comfort, and rested his hands on his thighs.
“Now,” Ultra Magnus began as gently as he could manage. “Please tell me what is wrong.”
Swerve dragged in a shuddering ventilation. He suddenly found the wall to be infinitely more fascinating than optical contact with Ultra Magnus. “It's ridiculous.”
“It is obviously not if it is concerning you,” Ultra Magnus said. He let his shoulders sag a little, his field drifting out in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “Swerve, you know I am not the sort to tease, taunt, or laugh. I only ask that you be honest with me.”
He watched Swerve suck his bottom lip into his mouth and gnaw upon it. His faceplate colored a pale pink.
“This is hard,” Swerve finally bit out.
Ultra Magnus blinked. “Given that you are excelling at this, I don't understand.”
Swerve raked a hand over his helm. “That's only because I want it so much,” he said, his gaze briefly swinging toward Ultra Magnus before it flitted back to the wall. His shoulders slumped. “It's just... I... you're good at this, too. Except for the part where you were pretty indifferent to the future. Which it's not your fault that I'm way more invested in this. It's just a game, right? A ruse to save Rodimus' life. Except it's kind of not staying a game for me. It's staying real.”
Ultra Magnus tried to digest that spill of words. Swerve had spoken in such a rush that it took him a moment to pick through the language data. He felt he was coming to a conclusion, a worrisome one, and he didn't want to be wrong.
“You--”
“I forgot, okay?” Swerve blurted, his hands so wrung together that surely it was causing him pain. The chair rattled beneath him as he turned his gaze back toward Ultra Magnus. “You were being so nice and talking to me like I actually meant something, even when I was crying for no reason. And then I don't even know what I was thinking except that I was kissing you because, you know, maybe you do like me like I like you.”
Yes.
There it was. The conclusion that he didn't want to draw.
Ultra Magnus worked his intake. “You--”
“I panicked,” Swerve interrupted again and his field spiked, agitation greater than everything else. “I kissed you and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for that Mags – Magnus – it won't happen again.”
Ultra Magnus cycled a ventilation. He considered several responses to Swerve's explanation and opted for seeking clarity on the most confusing part of it.
“Like me like I like you?” he repeated.
The heat in Swerve's faceplate darkened to near-red. “I like you,” he admitted quietly. His gaze found the floor. “A lot. Before all this started. And that's sorta making this whole thing very difficult and complicated because I'd gotten used to you not caring about me. But here you are pretending that you do and I can't seem to remember that it's not real.”
His field darkened, bleak and pained.
Swerve clenched his fingers together. “I know it's all for Rodimus' sake, and well, ours, too. Since the Exelons won't be happy to know we're involved in a fake relationship. But it's still hard. I'm sorry.” He sighed and finally looked up. “I'll adjust eventually. Don't worry. I promise I'll do better.”
This was not an eventuality Magnus had ever considered within the realm of possibility. He'd had no idea that Swerve liked him romantically. He'd thought Swerve barely tolerated him professionally. After all, how often had Magnus dragged him in for some violation of the Autobot code?
Ultra Magnus sat back in his chair, feeling more than a little overwhelmed and out of his depth. He had not prepared for this. It was too late. Swerve was involved, all of their sparks were on the line, and they couldn't go back. They were all invested in this.
Magnus let out a slow ventilation. “I apologize, Swerve. I did not consider such an outcome. Had I known... well, I would have found a way around this.” It pained him, it honestly did, to know that he would be causing Swerve discomfort. “Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?”
Swerve shook his helm. “No. What you're doing is enough.” Embarrassment darkened his field. “I thought, well, I thought you already knew I had a crush on you. I figured you were being polite by ignoring it.”
“No, Swerve. Had I known I would done my level best to try and avoid putting you in such an awkward situation.”
Of this, Magnus was certain. He could have found a way to replace Swerve. Convinced the Exelons that their spies had heard wrong. That Swerve was covering up for someone else. That Ultra Magnus' “partner” had been taught to always claim he was single. That Swerve had been lying about having a significant other for any number of reasons.
Magnus could have arranged for a volunteer among the crowd of singles, perhaps spoken with Rung about who would be most amenable and capable. But Swerve had been willing. He'd been eager. He hadn't once said 'no.' Ultra Magnus felt terrible.
Rodimus owed them all greatly for this.
Ultra Magnus clasped his hands together and modulated his field to project soothing calm and comfort. “We have little choice but to continue. However, I do not wish to make you unhappy. Clearly, our current system isn't working. What would you suggest as an alteration to make it easier for both of us?”
Swerve's gaze fell again. He fidgeted on the chair. “What if we...” he trailed off, field shrinking inward.
“I am willing to consider all suggestions,” Ultra Magnus urged.
Swerve's visor slowly lifted toward him. “What if we went full-time?”
Ultra Magnus tilted his helm. “I don't follow.”
He was beginning to learn Swerve's tells, reading agitation as the metallurgist's fingers tangled together. “It's hard to flipflop back and forth. To switch between being your fiance and just being me,” Swerve said. He snuck a glance at Magnus and then found the wall behind Magnus fascinating. “So what if we just... didn't?”
“Didn't what?”
“Didn't flipflop.” Swerve rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “What if we pretended all the time? Pretended that we really are dating. Make it real. Well, fake-real.”
Ultra Magnus slanted a look at Swerve. What he was suggesting, well, it would only hurt Swerve in the long run, for all that it might make it easier on him now. What if by the end Swerve couldn't let go? What if Ultra Magnus had to break his spark?
“And you think that would be easier?” he asked, skeptical.
“I'm not saying it won't hurt,” Swerve said. “Cause it will. But it's already hurting. And at least this way, it'll hurt less now and maybe later, too, because it'll feel like the end of a relationship. Like we gave it our best go, you know?” He offered a lop-sided grin.
Ultra Magnus cycled a ventilation. This didn't sound like the best solution to him, but if it would make Swerve more comfortable, he didn't want to argue. Oh, how he wished he could seek Rung's counsel on this. Somehow, he suspected that this course of action was not a good idea, only he couldn't articulate why.
“Very well.” Ultra Magnus inclined his head. “If you feel it is the better course of action, I will accept.”
Swerve's face all but lit up and Ultra Magnus wondered if maybe, this was a bad idea. They were only digging themselves deeper. But there was nothing to be done about it now. Best to make the most of a bad situation.
“However,” Ultra Magnus interjected, holding up his index finger. “I want you to promise there will be no more surprise kisses. I would prefer if we discuss these in advance. Agreed?”
Swerve's faceplate heated. He ducked his helm. “Agreed,” he murmured. “And I really am very sorry about that.”
“Apology accepted.” Ultra Magnus cycled a ventilation and lowered his hand. “Now, I suppose new rules must be instated. How would you define our relationship now that we are not 'flipflopping' as you put it.”
Swerve coughed into his hand. He looked as uncomfortable with this topic as Ultra Magnus felt.
“We could actually do things together? Other than whatever celebrations the Exelons have planned?” Swerve tentatively suggested. “Meet for energon? Come see each other for no reason? Share a, um, share a room? But not a berth!” His hands waved through the air, almost wildly. “I mean, I can sleep in a chair or something. It's just a thought.” Swerve shook his helm, face so bright that it glowed. “Never mind. Scratch the last suggestion. That's just too much.”
Ultra Magnus blinked. “Very well,” he conceded. “I am amenable to meeting for our daily rations. Certainly I can visit you while you are tending or cleaning your bar. You are more than welcome to stop by the bridge when I am present. Anything else?”
Swerve chuckled a little. “No, not that I can think of at the moment. Do you have any more rules for me? Anything you want me to do?” He sounded almost hopeful.
“No. You have been exemplary.” Which was the absolute truth. Though now that Ultra Magnus knew the reason behind it, his observations took on a whole new meaning.
He was at least relieved to get an answer and find a solution, even if it only made things more complicated.
In the meantime, Ultra Magnus made a mental note to contact Perceptor and Brainstorm, see if either of the two scientists had discovered anything new. Getting Rodimus free of that bomb was an utmost priority.
Ultra Magnus rose to his pedes. “Shall I escort you back to your room?”
“That would be the appropriate thing, I guess,” Swerve said. He slid from his chair and hesitated. He looked up at Ultra Magnus. “We're okay, right? I didn't weird you out?” Uncertainty slicked his plating down.
Ultra Magnus knelt on one knee. It brought him closer to Swerve's level and, he'd noticed, it calmed Swerve down. He rested a hand on Swerve's shoulder, hoping that he was not being too forward.
“No matter what happens at the end of this, we are going to remain friends,” Ultra Magnus said. He meant it, too. “I am neither angry nor upset, simply disappointed with myself for having hurt you.”
“It's not your fault!” Swerve blurted. “I should have said something sooner.”
“Be that as it may, I will do my utmost best to prevent your pain in the future.” Ultra Magnus offered another smile, his field nudging lightly against Swerve's. “Despite this, I am glad, Swerve, that you are the one to undertake this task with me.”
Swerve's smile in return was perhaps one of the first truly genuine and pleased smiles he had seen Swerve offer so far. “Thanks, Mags,” he said. “I promise I won't let you down.”
“I know.” Ultra Magnus squeezed his shoulder again and rose to his full height, which admittedly loomed over Swerve. As Minimus, he supposed they would be better matched. “Now, my dear, shall I escort you to your room?” He offered a hand.
Swerve snorted a laugh and gripped his index finger. “That would be most kind of you, sir. Most kind.” His lips twitched with restrained laughter.
They shared an amused look and Ultra Magnus was relieved to see Swerve finally relax.
a/n: Slowly but surely they are inching toward understanding. And poor Swerve, grasping at straws there. Poor Magnus, not quite grasping the situation. The ruse continues!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated. I do hope you are enjoying! ^_^
