[IDW] Marry Me - Chapter Twelve
Oct. 26th, 2015 06:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus/Swerve, Rodimus, Perceptor, Brainstorm
Rated T for this chapter
Good news and bad news as the future races to an inevitable conclusion -- marriage.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - "Secret Valentine," We the Kings
“We don't have a solution,” Perceptor said as Brainstorm peered over his shoulder at the datapad in Perceptor's hands. “But we did discover a potential workaround.”
Ultra Magnus frowned. Next to him, Rodimus all but vibrated with restrained glee. His hands kept rising to the collar around his intake before dropping to fold across his chest, or plant on his hips, or wave wildly through the air. Rodimus was not a mech who knew how to be still.
“We can't get it off,” Brainstorm said, jumping in, much to the downturn of Perceptor's mouth. Perceptor's field dripped with exasperation. “At least, not with anything we have here. It's rigged too well. We fiddle with it and kaboom. There's no getting around that.”
“We already know this,” Ultra Magnus said. He ex-vented loudly, nearly blasting Rodimus with heat. “Why did you summon us if you have nothing new to report?”
“Because we do,” Perceptor said. He twisted away from Brainstorm, targeting lens glinting in the overhead light. “We can remove it if we can deactivate the auto-destruct mechanism.”
Rodimus bounced on his heel-struts. His spoiler fluttered. “You just said you can't do that.”
“No,” Brainstorm admitted, and his optics lit up as though he were grinning behind his mask. “But there are times, we've discovered, that it deactivates on his own. And when it does that, we can swoop in and--” He scissored two fingers on his right hand. “--snip, snip it right off and peel on out of here, saving Rodimus' helm and all of ours, too.”
Ultra Magnus blinked.
Perceptor lowered his helm and pinched his olfactory sensor. His scope jiggered up and down. Perhaps too much time spent in Brainstorm's company had taken its toll.
“How did you discover this peculiarity?” Ultra Magnus asked. This was Rodimus' spark on the line after all. They couldn't afford to make any mistakes.
“Last night at the dance,” Brainstorm offered with a peppy burst of his field. “I was scanning our captain here when he started dancing with one of the Exelons and noticed that the field he was giving off was suddenly gone.”
“Subtle questioning informed me that Rodimus' partner was one of the royal line, the younger kin of the Exelon he'd defeated in the race,” Perceptor added. His fingers flicked across the datapad, pulling up something on the screen that he then turned toward Ultra Magnus.
It was a schematic. Ultra Magnus leaned forward, peering at it. He could not make heads or tails of the scientific jargon. He assumed it meant that Perceptor could save Rodimus.
“It makes sense,” Brainstorm said, tapping his chin with two fingers. “They want the criminals to go boom, but don't want to accidentally kill anyone important. So it's programmed to deactivate if the criminal gets within a certain radius of any member of royalty.”
“So I just need to get near a royal long enough for one of you to sneak up on me and take this off?” Rodimus asked, pointing toward the collar. He remained reluctant to touch it. “Let's do it then!”
“It is not as easy as it sounds, Captain,” Ultra Magnus said. He fought back the urge to sigh. “Any event that would have the royals involved would be public. You would be the center of attention. It would be difficult to draw their gaze away.”
Rodimus refused to be disappointed. “All we have to do is distract them. We need a bigger source of entertainment than me. Like...” He grinned, face lighting up, and Ultra Magnus got a sinking sensation in his tank. He snapped his fingers. “Like a wedding and a reception!”
Ultra Magnus shook his head, backtracking. “No, Rodimus. We are already perpetrating a ruse. You cannot seriously expect for us to go through with the wedding.”
It was unfair to Swerve. It was unfair to Ultra Magnus. It was unfair to the relationship slowly building between them.
“We don't have to, Magnus. Don't worry.” Rodimus patted him on the shoulder, an action Magnus had learned to tolerate. “These Exelons love to party. All we have to do is invite them to one of our own and voila, we have them right where we want them. No one knows how to throw a party quite like I do, right?”
“And on the off-chance that does not work, there is always the wedding and reception for a second opportunity,” Perceptor said in a bland tone. He adjusted his targeting lens and flipped the datapad back toward him. “I'll leave the particulars of planning up to you. Brainstorm and I will decide the best means of removing the collar.”
Brainstorm's wings fluttered, one of them nearly slapping Perceptor in the back. “Real quality time together,” he said in a singsong voice.
Perceptor looked pained.
“Come on, Magnus.” The back of Rodimus' hand slapped against his arm. “Let's go announce our party and with a little bit of luck, we can be off and away from Exelon in less than forty-eight hours, yes?”
This would speed up their initial timeline a little, but Ultra Magnus was fine with that. There were ways to explain it to the Exelons. He only hoped it worked.
Ultra Magnus cycled another ventilation. Rodimus' optics were bright and encouraged and just a shade desperate.
“Yes, Rodimus,” he agreed, mostly to soothe his captain's fears. After all, not even Rodimus could stay positive with a bomb around his throat. “So it would seem.”
0o0o0 As it turned out, getting the Exelons to attend a party thrown in their honor and to celebrate the happy couple was not difficult. No sooner had Rodimus mentioned free food and dancing and celebration and half a dozen members of Exelon royalty had returned an RSVP. It was if they had nothing better to do than party the day away.
It was to be the last celebration before the wedding itself. It was their last chance to save Rodimus before going through with the ceremony.
“It's your turn to put on a show,” Rodimus said, but it wasn't with as much teasing as Ultra Magnus would have hoped. “You need to make sure they're paying attention to you. So you and Swerve need to be as obnoxiously sweet as possible.”
“A show,” Ultra Magnus repeated flatly. It felt like a bad taste in his mouth. The very idea of it was unpalatable.
It was no struggle to be with Swerve or spend time with him. He was not averse to touching Swerve or kissing him. He was simply averse to putting on a performance. He preferred for such things to remain private and special.
“It's okay. I believe in you.” Rodimus grinned and gave him two thumbs up. His field swelled with hope. He trusted that Ultra Magnus would do this and do this well.
He didn't really see where they had another option. Unless Ultra Magnus wanted to hire Whirl to provide a distraction. Which would work but might bring them more trouble. Whirl lacked a little something called tact and Magnus didn't need both Whirl and Rodimus in trouble.
Ultra Magnus sighed. He rubbed his forehead. Trust Rodimus to further complicate matters.
0o0o0
“What?”
Swerve could scarcely believe his audials.
Ultra Magnus twitched, looking pained. “We need to be a distraction. We need to be something the Exelons want to watch so that no one sees Perceptor or Brainstorm trying to remove the collar.”
Swerve worked his intake and looked around the hallway. There was no one around to hear them having this conversation, but he still felt awkward. They stood just outside the newly dubbed “ballroom” on the Lost Light. Thumping music was audible through the walls and brightly colored lights flashed through the viewing windows. Almost the entire crew was in attendance and no few Exelons and now this?
“What, exactly, does that mean?” Swerve asked.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Ultra Magnus admitted.
Scrap.
Swerve cycled a ventilation and rubbed his face with both hands. His spark was cycling faster and faster in his chest, images of things that would certainly work coming to mind. They made him simultaneously giddy and embarrassed.
“So basically we have to be the gooiest, sappiest pair of lovers anyone has ever seen,” Swerve said with a groan. Which, while he wasn't averse to being a little lovey-dovey, the kind of display Rodimus wanted would be nauseating. And, well, public. “I guess this is going to be the one time you follow my lead?”
Magnus managed a small smile. “I would welcome your instruction.”
Oh, Primus. Swerve's entire frame went flush with heat. This was not going to be easy. It would be a partial dream come true, and he couldn't even leave to take it to the next level.
He planted his hands on his hips and smiled up at Ultra Magnus. “At least we'll enjoy it. Mostly,” he said with a little laugh. “First things first. Escort me in like usual and then find a table in view of everyone. With a comfortable chair. Because I'm going to be, um, spending a lot of time in your lap.” He tried not to squirm.
“I trust your experience in this matter,” Ultra Magnus said and he straightened, sliding an arm around Swerve and placing a hand at the top of his back. “Are you ready?”
“No,” Swerve admitted but he patted Ultra Magnus' hip. “But let's go anyway. I'm with you, right? That's good enough for me.”
He was treated to a blindingly gorgeous Ultra Magnus smile, no matter how small it was, and then they were pushing through the doors and plunging into the madness that was a pre-wedding party in full bloom. It was loud and bright and Swerve almost cringed in the face of the noise of it. But Ultra Magnus was far more steady than him, and taller, so he instantly spotted a good place to put them on display.
Swerve tangled his fingers together. He was nervous. More than nervous. He had a hard enough time convincing himself it was okay to touch Ultra Magnus without having to do it in public, too.
Ultra Magnus picked a table and made himself comfortable. Swerve slid in the booth beside him and snuggled up to him. Proving that he was nothing if not adaptable, Ultra Magnus slung an arm over his shoulders, tucking him in against Magnus' side.
“Is this all right?” Magnus asked.
Swerve, with a trembling hand, lightly rested his hand over Magnus' abdominal armor. “More than,” he said. “This okay?”
“Just fine.” Ultra Magnus' finger stroked down the length of arm, leaving a buzzing warmth in its wake.
His frame curved toward Swerve as though shielding him from the party. It directed his ex-vents down on Swerve, putting his sole attention on Swerve.
“That works, too,” Swerve breathed. He nuzzled his helm against Ultra Magnus' plating, enjoying the radiating heat against his frame.
He felt Ultra Magnus' quiet chuckle as it vibrated through the armor. “Good to know. I'll order drinks for us.”
“You know what I like?” Swerve looked up at him, unable to hide his surprise.
“I've paid attention,” Ultra Magnus replied before he turned his attention to the server, indeed ordering one of Swerve's favorite drinks.
Wow. Swerve felt his faceplate heat. Ultra Magnus hadn't been pretending when he said the attraction went both ways. Mechs didn't bother to pay attention unless the details mattered to them.
The server left and Ultra Magnus looked down at Swerve. His free hand came around, thumb brushing something from Swerve's faceplate. It was both intimate and surprising and Swerve turned his helm into the touch, not bothering to keep himself from smiling.
“You're pretty good at this for someone who doesn't know what he's doing,” Swerve breathed. He turned his helm quickly and caught Ultra Magnus' thumb with his lips, giving it a brief kiss.
He was treated to the sight of Ultra Magnus shivering.
“It is easier than I thought it would be,” Magnus admitted, his optics gleaming at Swerve. “I have learned how enjoyable it is to touch you. It is only the public aspect that concerns me.”
“Yeah, that.” Swerve chanced a glance into the crowd and was both irritated and relieved to see that many of the Exelons were staring their direction. “Maybe pretend they aren't there?”
“I do not know if I have that much imagination, but I shall do my best to try.”
The server returned with their drinks, setting them on the table, but Swerve had no interest in the flavored fuel. He only had attention for Ultra Magnus.
“You'll do fine,” Swerve said. He believed it, too. Ultra Magnus seemed to have a knack for it.
He lay his hand over Ultra Magnus', keeping it pressed to his face. He loved how much larger it was, how it cupped the entire side of his face. Magnus smelled of fresh polish, too. He couldn't wait until he could lay on a berth, Magnus perched over him, his large hands stroking Swerve's frame.
Swerve shivered. “I love your hands,” he murmured, and then froze with embarrassment because he hadn't meant to say it aloud.
Magnus dipped his head closer, pressing their foreheads together, though he'd had to contort his frame to do so. “Thank you,” he said. “I am quite fond of your smile.”
Swerve chuckled. “Charmer.”
“I am only being honest.” Magnus' thumb stroked his cheek. “Perhaps we might be more comfortable if you sat in my lap?”
It would draw far more attention, too. Swerve hoped that wasn't Ultra Magnus' only aim.
Swerve grinned. “So long as you don't mind.”
He shifted, climbing into Ultra Magnus' lap with Magnus' assistance. The size difference was immediately obvious. Swerve perched on one thigh, his legs propped over the other. Ultra Magnus' arm curved around him, keeping him tucked against Magnus' abdomen. It made it easier for Magnus to bend down and kiss him.
Swerve took advantage of this every chance he could. He loved the way Ultra Magnus kissed. He loved the feel of Magnus' ex-vents down on top of him. He loved the gentle weight of Magnus' hands on his frame.
Even better when Magnus reached for their engex and they were able to feed it to each other. Magnus held the cube to Swerve's lips like all the romantic vids Swerve had ever seen. When he spilled a little on his hand, Swerve was kind enough to clean it for him. Which sent his engine to thrumming with need.
He really, really wanted to take Magnus back to the privacy of their habsuites.
“I am glad that you do not mind me in this form,” Ultra Magnus murmured, his vocals soft so as not to be overheard.
They kept their faces close together, a display of intimacy that would do well for the show they were putting on. But also, it was nice to sit here like this.
“I like both of you,” Swerve said with a grin. “Both forms of you are good in their own way.”
He loved the way Magnus' field went all fluttery anytime he said something like that. He would have never guessed that the great Ultra Magnus was insecure until now. It was adorable.
Occasionally, one of the Exelons would stop by to talk. They would comment on how cute he and Ultra Magnus were. They would offer luck and promise to be at the wedding the next day. Some even bought the happy couple drinks.
They had their fair share of commentary from the crew though. Whirl had cautioned them not to start fragging in public, which had prompted Swerve to blaze with heat and Ultra Magnus to glare at him. Whirl quickly skedaddled after that.
One point, they did catch sight of Rodimus, who gave them two thumbs up and a wink from across the room. Swerve spied Perceptor nearby and assumed Brainstorm was lurking somewhere, too. He hoped they succeeded.
But then his attention returned to Ultra Magnus. He much preferred the dizzying press of Magnus' lips to his, the quietly stolen kisses and the soft stroke of Magnus' hand down his back.
They shared quiet conversation, talking about nothing of importance, just little things that real couples discussed.
While they talked, Swerve liked to hold Ultra Magnus' hand. He would squeeze his fingers and stroke his thumb across Magnus' palm. He would lean down and press little kisses to Magnus' knuckles, too. He didn't fail to notice that with each press of his lips, Ultra Magnus would give a tiny shiver.
Every time Ultra Magnus leaned in toward him, Swerve felt a little thrill run through his frame. It still felt like a dream. It was hard to believe that he was sitting in Ultra Magnus' lap and Ultra Magnus was touching him.
He did his best to put their observers out of his mind. He pretended that no one was watching, that they were in their own private corner or habsuite. Because if he didn't, Swerve would be embarrassed beyond belief. It was like everyone was witness to his private fantasy, like he'd been caught self-servicing. He knew it had to be wearing on Ultra Magnus as well. He was so intensely private.
He really hoped this ruse worked. Swerve tried to find Rodimus again but couldn't see the co-captain through the press of the crowd. He was sure Rodimus was present, with Perceptor and Brainstorm both close close by. It didn't matter which of them removed the collar, it would be a matter of opportunity.
Swerve murmured a prayer, hoping they would succeed. The farce was wearing on him and he wanted to be able to be with Ultra Magnus freely. He wanted to see if what they had was real or a consequence of the ruse. He needed to know if Ultra Magnus was truly attracted to him, or if it was all a lie.
He needed this to work.
0o0o0
Ultra Magnus only had to take one look at Rodimus to know that they had failed. That damnable collar was still around his neck and Rodimus' never-fail grin was losing its cheerful edge. He was no longer as bouncy as before either.
“On the plus side,” Rodimus said with a forced smile, “Perceptor now knows the exact sequence of events needed to remove the collar. So we can do it in the blink of an optic, provided a royal is near enough.” Rodimus' field was dull and lifeless, a sharp contrast to his usual exuberance.
Ultra Magnus pinched his olfactory sensor. “What went wrong?”
“They kept moving around,” Perceptor answered, sounding more frustrated than Ultra Magnus if that were at all possible. “It would have looked too suspicious if Rodimus had chased them around the room. Especially since they appeared to avoid him on principle.”
“I wonder why,” Ultra Magnus said, a more sarcastic retort than he intended but he was approaching the end of his patience. His head ached. “Fine. What can we do now?”
Perceptor cycled a ventilation. “Get Rodimus in a room within twenty feet of a royal and all I need is thirty seconds.”
“We cannot possibly arrange another party. The Exelons are expecting a wedding,” Ultra Magnus said through gritted denta. Dread began to drop into his tanks with heavy little thunks. “That's all we have left.”
“We don't have to actually go through with it,” Rodimus suggested. He planted a hand on his hip and rubbed his chin with the other. “We could fake it. It's not like the Exelons know the proper ceremony for a conjunx endura vow.”
“Except that they've been chatting freely with the mechs on the Lost Light and we don't know exactly what they know,” Brainstorm said as he popped his helm into the room, giving no indication as to what he was doing just out of sight. “And if they think we're fooling them?”
“Boom,” Rodimus said and if it was possible for a mech to pale, Rodimus certainly did so. What was left of his cheer drained from his faceplate. It seemed the gravity of the situation was finally sinking home.
“No more Rodimus,” Brainstorm said. “And given the size of that explosive? No more anyone close to him. They won't wait until he's alone. It could take out a big chunk of the Lost Light.”
Ultra Magnus sighed harder. “I'll need to discuss this with Swerve. It is not fair to commit him to something without his approval.”
None of them had expected it would need to go this far. They'd all trusted in the skills of their scientific division, never imagining that the Exelon technology would prove to be beyond their grasp.
Rodimus nodded, cycling a ventilation. “I'll understand if neither of you are willing to go this far. It's a big step. I mean, I guess you could always take the ceremony of annulment afterward, right?”
Ultra Magnus grimaced.
The idea of such was abhorrent to him. It was like shouting his lie to the universe and though he was not the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, he still felt obliged to live by just law. Playing in this farce – now uncomfortably real – was already stretching the limits of his flexibility.
“Yes,” he agreed. “If we must.”
0o0o0
Swerve was expecting good news, so when he opened the door to a rather grimmer than usual Ultra Magnus face, his optimism sank.
“Still bombed?”
Ultra Magnus cycled a ventilation. “Unfortunately.”
Swerve gestured for Ultra Magnus to come into his habsuite. “What now?” he asked as Magnus came inside and then knelt down so that they they were on the same level.
He reached for Swerve's hand and Swerve gave it to him, letting Magnus draw him into an embrace. “Our only remaining option is to go through with the wedding. We cannot fit in another party. It will only be seen as a delay.” Ultra Magnus looked pained at the thought of the Exelon response.
“I see.” Swerve's spark hammered within his chest. He was almost afraid to know what this meant. “And?”
Magnus' other hand cupped his face, something which made Swerve's knees weak. “I had not previously considered being conjunx endura with you. But I am not opposed to it. I would not consider it a burden nor an unfortunate fate.”
Swerve's ventilations hitched. “Are you serious?”
Magnus nodded. “Yes. There are options, such as a negation ceremony later if we prove to have irreconcilable differences, but I would like to see where this takes us first. Unless you are opposed.”
“No!” Swerve grinned. “I mean, no, I'm not opposed. I would like to try, too. See where this takes us. Make something of it. I'm willing to take this step with you. I mean, it's to save Rodimus, right?”
He desperately hoped that it wasn't the only reason. That the Ultra Magnus who was growing fond of Swerve was the same Ultra Magnus interested in pursuing a genuine relationship with Swerve.
Ultra Magnus' field rippled against his. “Yes. That is true. I would also like to think it can be a positive outcome for us as well.” His thumb stroked Swerve's cheek. “And if at a later date, we feel this should be repeated as less of a farce, we can certainly do so.”
Which meant Ultra Magnus had high hopes they might succeed as a couple. They could one day be legitimate even.
“Yeah.” Swerve grinned. “I'd like that.”
“Then I'll tell Rodimus the good news. After tomorrow, hopefully, we can all breathe a sigh of relief and be gone from Exelon Five for good,” Ultra Magnus said.
He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. Swerve grinned and tilted his helm up for a kiss. Ultra Magnus obliged.
All things considered, things weren't too bad after all.
****
a/n: Ahhh. Why are they so cute??? :)
Getting closer to the end folks. Stay tuned!
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus/Swerve, Rodimus, Perceptor, Brainstorm
Rated T for this chapter
Good news and bad news as the future races to an inevitable conclusion -- marriage.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - "Secret Valentine," We the Kings
Marry Me – Chapter Twelve
“We don't have a solution,” Perceptor said as Brainstorm peered over his shoulder at the datapad in Perceptor's hands. “But we did discover a potential workaround.”
Ultra Magnus frowned. Next to him, Rodimus all but vibrated with restrained glee. His hands kept rising to the collar around his intake before dropping to fold across his chest, or plant on his hips, or wave wildly through the air. Rodimus was not a mech who knew how to be still.
“We can't get it off,” Brainstorm said, jumping in, much to the downturn of Perceptor's mouth. Perceptor's field dripped with exasperation. “At least, not with anything we have here. It's rigged too well. We fiddle with it and kaboom. There's no getting around that.”
“We already know this,” Ultra Magnus said. He ex-vented loudly, nearly blasting Rodimus with heat. “Why did you summon us if you have nothing new to report?”
“Because we do,” Perceptor said. He twisted away from Brainstorm, targeting lens glinting in the overhead light. “We can remove it if we can deactivate the auto-destruct mechanism.”
Rodimus bounced on his heel-struts. His spoiler fluttered. “You just said you can't do that.”
“No,” Brainstorm admitted, and his optics lit up as though he were grinning behind his mask. “But there are times, we've discovered, that it deactivates on his own. And when it does that, we can swoop in and--” He scissored two fingers on his right hand. “--snip, snip it right off and peel on out of here, saving Rodimus' helm and all of ours, too.”
Ultra Magnus blinked.
Perceptor lowered his helm and pinched his olfactory sensor. His scope jiggered up and down. Perhaps too much time spent in Brainstorm's company had taken its toll.
“How did you discover this peculiarity?” Ultra Magnus asked. This was Rodimus' spark on the line after all. They couldn't afford to make any mistakes.
“Last night at the dance,” Brainstorm offered with a peppy burst of his field. “I was scanning our captain here when he started dancing with one of the Exelons and noticed that the field he was giving off was suddenly gone.”
“Subtle questioning informed me that Rodimus' partner was one of the royal line, the younger kin of the Exelon he'd defeated in the race,” Perceptor added. His fingers flicked across the datapad, pulling up something on the screen that he then turned toward Ultra Magnus.
It was a schematic. Ultra Magnus leaned forward, peering at it. He could not make heads or tails of the scientific jargon. He assumed it meant that Perceptor could save Rodimus.
“It makes sense,” Brainstorm said, tapping his chin with two fingers. “They want the criminals to go boom, but don't want to accidentally kill anyone important. So it's programmed to deactivate if the criminal gets within a certain radius of any member of royalty.”
“So I just need to get near a royal long enough for one of you to sneak up on me and take this off?” Rodimus asked, pointing toward the collar. He remained reluctant to touch it. “Let's do it then!”
“It is not as easy as it sounds, Captain,” Ultra Magnus said. He fought back the urge to sigh. “Any event that would have the royals involved would be public. You would be the center of attention. It would be difficult to draw their gaze away.”
Rodimus refused to be disappointed. “All we have to do is distract them. We need a bigger source of entertainment than me. Like...” He grinned, face lighting up, and Ultra Magnus got a sinking sensation in his tank. He snapped his fingers. “Like a wedding and a reception!”
Ultra Magnus shook his head, backtracking. “No, Rodimus. We are already perpetrating a ruse. You cannot seriously expect for us to go through with the wedding.”
It was unfair to Swerve. It was unfair to Ultra Magnus. It was unfair to the relationship slowly building between them.
“We don't have to, Magnus. Don't worry.” Rodimus patted him on the shoulder, an action Magnus had learned to tolerate. “These Exelons love to party. All we have to do is invite them to one of our own and voila, we have them right where we want them. No one knows how to throw a party quite like I do, right?”
“And on the off-chance that does not work, there is always the wedding and reception for a second opportunity,” Perceptor said in a bland tone. He adjusted his targeting lens and flipped the datapad back toward him. “I'll leave the particulars of planning up to you. Brainstorm and I will decide the best means of removing the collar.”
Brainstorm's wings fluttered, one of them nearly slapping Perceptor in the back. “Real quality time together,” he said in a singsong voice.
Perceptor looked pained.
“Come on, Magnus.” The back of Rodimus' hand slapped against his arm. “Let's go announce our party and with a little bit of luck, we can be off and away from Exelon in less than forty-eight hours, yes?”
This would speed up their initial timeline a little, but Ultra Magnus was fine with that. There were ways to explain it to the Exelons. He only hoped it worked.
Ultra Magnus cycled another ventilation. Rodimus' optics were bright and encouraged and just a shade desperate.
“Yes, Rodimus,” he agreed, mostly to soothe his captain's fears. After all, not even Rodimus could stay positive with a bomb around his throat. “So it would seem.”
It was to be the last celebration before the wedding itself. It was their last chance to save Rodimus before going through with the ceremony.
“It's your turn to put on a show,” Rodimus said, but it wasn't with as much teasing as Ultra Magnus would have hoped. “You need to make sure they're paying attention to you. So you and Swerve need to be as obnoxiously sweet as possible.”
“A show,” Ultra Magnus repeated flatly. It felt like a bad taste in his mouth. The very idea of it was unpalatable.
It was no struggle to be with Swerve or spend time with him. He was not averse to touching Swerve or kissing him. He was simply averse to putting on a performance. He preferred for such things to remain private and special.
“It's okay. I believe in you.” Rodimus grinned and gave him two thumbs up. His field swelled with hope. He trusted that Ultra Magnus would do this and do this well.
He didn't really see where they had another option. Unless Ultra Magnus wanted to hire Whirl to provide a distraction. Which would work but might bring them more trouble. Whirl lacked a little something called tact and Magnus didn't need both Whirl and Rodimus in trouble.
Ultra Magnus sighed. He rubbed his forehead. Trust Rodimus to further complicate matters.
“What?”
Swerve could scarcely believe his audials.
Ultra Magnus twitched, looking pained. “We need to be a distraction. We need to be something the Exelons want to watch so that no one sees Perceptor or Brainstorm trying to remove the collar.”
Swerve worked his intake and looked around the hallway. There was no one around to hear them having this conversation, but he still felt awkward. They stood just outside the newly dubbed “ballroom” on the Lost Light. Thumping music was audible through the walls and brightly colored lights flashed through the viewing windows. Almost the entire crew was in attendance and no few Exelons and now this?
“What, exactly, does that mean?” Swerve asked.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Ultra Magnus admitted.
Scrap.
Swerve cycled a ventilation and rubbed his face with both hands. His spark was cycling faster and faster in his chest, images of things that would certainly work coming to mind. They made him simultaneously giddy and embarrassed.
“So basically we have to be the gooiest, sappiest pair of lovers anyone has ever seen,” Swerve said with a groan. Which, while he wasn't averse to being a little lovey-dovey, the kind of display Rodimus wanted would be nauseating. And, well, public. “I guess this is going to be the one time you follow my lead?”
Magnus managed a small smile. “I would welcome your instruction.”
Oh, Primus. Swerve's entire frame went flush with heat. This was not going to be easy. It would be a partial dream come true, and he couldn't even leave to take it to the next level.
He planted his hands on his hips and smiled up at Ultra Magnus. “At least we'll enjoy it. Mostly,” he said with a little laugh. “First things first. Escort me in like usual and then find a table in view of everyone. With a comfortable chair. Because I'm going to be, um, spending a lot of time in your lap.” He tried not to squirm.
“I trust your experience in this matter,” Ultra Magnus said and he straightened, sliding an arm around Swerve and placing a hand at the top of his back. “Are you ready?”
“No,” Swerve admitted but he patted Ultra Magnus' hip. “But let's go anyway. I'm with you, right? That's good enough for me.”
He was treated to a blindingly gorgeous Ultra Magnus smile, no matter how small it was, and then they were pushing through the doors and plunging into the madness that was a pre-wedding party in full bloom. It was loud and bright and Swerve almost cringed in the face of the noise of it. But Ultra Magnus was far more steady than him, and taller, so he instantly spotted a good place to put them on display.
Swerve tangled his fingers together. He was nervous. More than nervous. He had a hard enough time convincing himself it was okay to touch Ultra Magnus without having to do it in public, too.
Ultra Magnus picked a table and made himself comfortable. Swerve slid in the booth beside him and snuggled up to him. Proving that he was nothing if not adaptable, Ultra Magnus slung an arm over his shoulders, tucking him in against Magnus' side.
“Is this all right?” Magnus asked.
Swerve, with a trembling hand, lightly rested his hand over Magnus' abdominal armor. “More than,” he said. “This okay?”
“Just fine.” Ultra Magnus' finger stroked down the length of arm, leaving a buzzing warmth in its wake.
His frame curved toward Swerve as though shielding him from the party. It directed his ex-vents down on Swerve, putting his sole attention on Swerve.
“That works, too,” Swerve breathed. He nuzzled his helm against Ultra Magnus' plating, enjoying the radiating heat against his frame.
He felt Ultra Magnus' quiet chuckle as it vibrated through the armor. “Good to know. I'll order drinks for us.”
“You know what I like?” Swerve looked up at him, unable to hide his surprise.
“I've paid attention,” Ultra Magnus replied before he turned his attention to the server, indeed ordering one of Swerve's favorite drinks.
Wow. Swerve felt his faceplate heat. Ultra Magnus hadn't been pretending when he said the attraction went both ways. Mechs didn't bother to pay attention unless the details mattered to them.
The server left and Ultra Magnus looked down at Swerve. His free hand came around, thumb brushing something from Swerve's faceplate. It was both intimate and surprising and Swerve turned his helm into the touch, not bothering to keep himself from smiling.
“You're pretty good at this for someone who doesn't know what he's doing,” Swerve breathed. He turned his helm quickly and caught Ultra Magnus' thumb with his lips, giving it a brief kiss.
He was treated to the sight of Ultra Magnus shivering.
“It is easier than I thought it would be,” Magnus admitted, his optics gleaming at Swerve. “I have learned how enjoyable it is to touch you. It is only the public aspect that concerns me.”
“Yeah, that.” Swerve chanced a glance into the crowd and was both irritated and relieved to see that many of the Exelons were staring their direction. “Maybe pretend they aren't there?”
“I do not know if I have that much imagination, but I shall do my best to try.”
The server returned with their drinks, setting them on the table, but Swerve had no interest in the flavored fuel. He only had attention for Ultra Magnus.
“You'll do fine,” Swerve said. He believed it, too. Ultra Magnus seemed to have a knack for it.
He lay his hand over Ultra Magnus', keeping it pressed to his face. He loved how much larger it was, how it cupped the entire side of his face. Magnus smelled of fresh polish, too. He couldn't wait until he could lay on a berth, Magnus perched over him, his large hands stroking Swerve's frame.
Swerve shivered. “I love your hands,” he murmured, and then froze with embarrassment because he hadn't meant to say it aloud.
Magnus dipped his head closer, pressing their foreheads together, though he'd had to contort his frame to do so. “Thank you,” he said. “I am quite fond of your smile.”
Swerve chuckled. “Charmer.”
“I am only being honest.” Magnus' thumb stroked his cheek. “Perhaps we might be more comfortable if you sat in my lap?”
It would draw far more attention, too. Swerve hoped that wasn't Ultra Magnus' only aim.
Swerve grinned. “So long as you don't mind.”
He shifted, climbing into Ultra Magnus' lap with Magnus' assistance. The size difference was immediately obvious. Swerve perched on one thigh, his legs propped over the other. Ultra Magnus' arm curved around him, keeping him tucked against Magnus' abdomen. It made it easier for Magnus to bend down and kiss him.
Swerve took advantage of this every chance he could. He loved the way Ultra Magnus kissed. He loved the feel of Magnus' ex-vents down on top of him. He loved the gentle weight of Magnus' hands on his frame.
Even better when Magnus reached for their engex and they were able to feed it to each other. Magnus held the cube to Swerve's lips like all the romantic vids Swerve had ever seen. When he spilled a little on his hand, Swerve was kind enough to clean it for him. Which sent his engine to thrumming with need.
He really, really wanted to take Magnus back to the privacy of their habsuites.
“I am glad that you do not mind me in this form,” Ultra Magnus murmured, his vocals soft so as not to be overheard.
They kept their faces close together, a display of intimacy that would do well for the show they were putting on. But also, it was nice to sit here like this.
“I like both of you,” Swerve said with a grin. “Both forms of you are good in their own way.”
He loved the way Magnus' field went all fluttery anytime he said something like that. He would have never guessed that the great Ultra Magnus was insecure until now. It was adorable.
Occasionally, one of the Exelons would stop by to talk. They would comment on how cute he and Ultra Magnus were. They would offer luck and promise to be at the wedding the next day. Some even bought the happy couple drinks.
They had their fair share of commentary from the crew though. Whirl had cautioned them not to start fragging in public, which had prompted Swerve to blaze with heat and Ultra Magnus to glare at him. Whirl quickly skedaddled after that.
One point, they did catch sight of Rodimus, who gave them two thumbs up and a wink from across the room. Swerve spied Perceptor nearby and assumed Brainstorm was lurking somewhere, too. He hoped they succeeded.
But then his attention returned to Ultra Magnus. He much preferred the dizzying press of Magnus' lips to his, the quietly stolen kisses and the soft stroke of Magnus' hand down his back.
They shared quiet conversation, talking about nothing of importance, just little things that real couples discussed.
While they talked, Swerve liked to hold Ultra Magnus' hand. He would squeeze his fingers and stroke his thumb across Magnus' palm. He would lean down and press little kisses to Magnus' knuckles, too. He didn't fail to notice that with each press of his lips, Ultra Magnus would give a tiny shiver.
Every time Ultra Magnus leaned in toward him, Swerve felt a little thrill run through his frame. It still felt like a dream. It was hard to believe that he was sitting in Ultra Magnus' lap and Ultra Magnus was touching him.
He did his best to put their observers out of his mind. He pretended that no one was watching, that they were in their own private corner or habsuite. Because if he didn't, Swerve would be embarrassed beyond belief. It was like everyone was witness to his private fantasy, like he'd been caught self-servicing. He knew it had to be wearing on Ultra Magnus as well. He was so intensely private.
He really hoped this ruse worked. Swerve tried to find Rodimus again but couldn't see the co-captain through the press of the crowd. He was sure Rodimus was present, with Perceptor and Brainstorm both close close by. It didn't matter which of them removed the collar, it would be a matter of opportunity.
Swerve murmured a prayer, hoping they would succeed. The farce was wearing on him and he wanted to be able to be with Ultra Magnus freely. He wanted to see if what they had was real or a consequence of the ruse. He needed to know if Ultra Magnus was truly attracted to him, or if it was all a lie.
He needed this to work.
Ultra Magnus only had to take one look at Rodimus to know that they had failed. That damnable collar was still around his neck and Rodimus' never-fail grin was losing its cheerful edge. He was no longer as bouncy as before either.
“On the plus side,” Rodimus said with a forced smile, “Perceptor now knows the exact sequence of events needed to remove the collar. So we can do it in the blink of an optic, provided a royal is near enough.” Rodimus' field was dull and lifeless, a sharp contrast to his usual exuberance.
Ultra Magnus pinched his olfactory sensor. “What went wrong?”
“They kept moving around,” Perceptor answered, sounding more frustrated than Ultra Magnus if that were at all possible. “It would have looked too suspicious if Rodimus had chased them around the room. Especially since they appeared to avoid him on principle.”
“I wonder why,” Ultra Magnus said, a more sarcastic retort than he intended but he was approaching the end of his patience. His head ached. “Fine. What can we do now?”
Perceptor cycled a ventilation. “Get Rodimus in a room within twenty feet of a royal and all I need is thirty seconds.”
“We cannot possibly arrange another party. The Exelons are expecting a wedding,” Ultra Magnus said through gritted denta. Dread began to drop into his tanks with heavy little thunks. “That's all we have left.”
“We don't have to actually go through with it,” Rodimus suggested. He planted a hand on his hip and rubbed his chin with the other. “We could fake it. It's not like the Exelons know the proper ceremony for a conjunx endura vow.”
“Except that they've been chatting freely with the mechs on the Lost Light and we don't know exactly what they know,” Brainstorm said as he popped his helm into the room, giving no indication as to what he was doing just out of sight. “And if they think we're fooling them?”
“Boom,” Rodimus said and if it was possible for a mech to pale, Rodimus certainly did so. What was left of his cheer drained from his faceplate. It seemed the gravity of the situation was finally sinking home.
“No more Rodimus,” Brainstorm said. “And given the size of that explosive? No more anyone close to him. They won't wait until he's alone. It could take out a big chunk of the Lost Light.”
Ultra Magnus sighed harder. “I'll need to discuss this with Swerve. It is not fair to commit him to something without his approval.”
None of them had expected it would need to go this far. They'd all trusted in the skills of their scientific division, never imagining that the Exelon technology would prove to be beyond their grasp.
Rodimus nodded, cycling a ventilation. “I'll understand if neither of you are willing to go this far. It's a big step. I mean, I guess you could always take the ceremony of annulment afterward, right?”
Ultra Magnus grimaced.
The idea of such was abhorrent to him. It was like shouting his lie to the universe and though he was not the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, he still felt obliged to live by just law. Playing in this farce – now uncomfortably real – was already stretching the limits of his flexibility.
“Yes,” he agreed. “If we must.”
Swerve was expecting good news, so when he opened the door to a rather grimmer than usual Ultra Magnus face, his optimism sank.
“Still bombed?”
Ultra Magnus cycled a ventilation. “Unfortunately.”
Swerve gestured for Ultra Magnus to come into his habsuite. “What now?” he asked as Magnus came inside and then knelt down so that they they were on the same level.
He reached for Swerve's hand and Swerve gave it to him, letting Magnus draw him into an embrace. “Our only remaining option is to go through with the wedding. We cannot fit in another party. It will only be seen as a delay.” Ultra Magnus looked pained at the thought of the Exelon response.
“I see.” Swerve's spark hammered within his chest. He was almost afraid to know what this meant. “And?”
Magnus' other hand cupped his face, something which made Swerve's knees weak. “I had not previously considered being conjunx endura with you. But I am not opposed to it. I would not consider it a burden nor an unfortunate fate.”
Swerve's ventilations hitched. “Are you serious?”
Magnus nodded. “Yes. There are options, such as a negation ceremony later if we prove to have irreconcilable differences, but I would like to see where this takes us first. Unless you are opposed.”
“No!” Swerve grinned. “I mean, no, I'm not opposed. I would like to try, too. See where this takes us. Make something of it. I'm willing to take this step with you. I mean, it's to save Rodimus, right?”
He desperately hoped that it wasn't the only reason. That the Ultra Magnus who was growing fond of Swerve was the same Ultra Magnus interested in pursuing a genuine relationship with Swerve.
Ultra Magnus' field rippled against his. “Yes. That is true. I would also like to think it can be a positive outcome for us as well.” His thumb stroked Swerve's cheek. “And if at a later date, we feel this should be repeated as less of a farce, we can certainly do so.”
Which meant Ultra Magnus had high hopes they might succeed as a couple. They could one day be legitimate even.
“Yeah.” Swerve grinned. “I'd like that.”
“Then I'll tell Rodimus the good news. After tomorrow, hopefully, we can all breathe a sigh of relief and be gone from Exelon Five for good,” Ultra Magnus said.
He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. Swerve grinned and tilted his helm up for a kiss. Ultra Magnus obliged.
All things considered, things weren't too bad after all.
a/n: Ahhh. Why are they so cute??? :)
Getting closer to the end folks. Stay tuned!
