The Uninvited Guest: Chapter 6. Smokescreen and Swindle and Vortex.

[ayngelcat.livejournal.com]

Title: The Uninvited Guest: Chapter 6
Universe: G1
Rating: NC17
Characters: Swindle, Smokescreen, Vortex
Warnings: Very explicit *sticky smex,* consensual, with much language to go with it. Please don't read if sticky squicks you out!

Notes The last chapter in this part of the Swindle/Smokey saga. But it does not end here! ultharkitty has not only betad this story and helped me enormously with it, but has written a story herself about what happens next. Yes! *squees* and its awesome: here.

Then there’s more about this angsty, problem ridden but thoroughly adorable relationship to follow :D

This chapter continues from here


~~Chapter 6~~

Through the dim maze of corridors, I pursued Swindle relentlessly. My footsteps echoed hollowly as, in the dream, another scene played out, the same as the one before, and I stared into a wide draughty corridor, exactly like the last.

At the other end stood Swindle, his panels glinting in the faint light as he stared around in confusion.

“Swin!” I started towards him.

“Smokey …” he started towards me, and I shared the surge of relief which showed on his faceplates. But the air shimmered and the walls shook as the roar of a powerful engine resounded, accompanied by an all too familiar thwop thwop …

“Swindle!” But it was too late. Vortex swept over me, and I was thrown to the floor, blown over like a cyberfly in the approach of a swatter.

I struggled against the mighty rotor wind, craning my neck up and crying out - but it was no good. A hatch opened, and Swindle leaped gleefully aboard the heliformer, my miserable, ground bound, crawling form forgotten.

There was a roar as Vortex took off; and then Swindle’s delightful cackling rang out as they passed over my head, “Just looking after him … you don’t seem too good at that ….” Came Vortex’s mocking drawl as they headed away.

Struggling to my feet I ran, stumbling after them, only to freeze as I rounded the next bend. For there they stood in a passionate embrace, Vortex kissing Swindle, his hands molding around my lover’s form, gliding over panels. I watched, helpless, as Swindle's hands grabbed at rotors and he strained into the kiss; and that was when I lost it.

There was a heavy metal object in my hands. I looked down to see one of Swindle’s new automatic rifles.

I did not hesitate. With an audio-shattering blast of fire, I let fly, riddling my lover and his ‘colleague’ with dents and holes as bullets pinged off their bodies. “Die! Liars! Traitors!” I bawled.

But they dissolved, evaporating into a black and yellow whorl of particles. They hung, suspended; then with a burst of wild, cackling laughter, exploded into nothingness.

I was alone as the sounds died. “Swindle!” I yelled. “SWINDLE ….”

……………………..


“Smokey. Smokey! Wake up, wake up, wake up! I’m here!”

I was being shaken. My olfactory sensors ghosted online and I caught the unmistakeable whiff of Swindle’s paint. I clutched at the arm shaking me and hung on. “I killed you!” I yelled. “Oh Primus I killed you. I couldn't stand you with him like that, but I never meant it! I love you, Swindle!”

His voice was distant, but I had onlined enough to discern more than a trace of amusement. “Smokey? What are you talkin' about? I’m here! And I ain’t dead. Mech – what is goin’ on with your head?”

A few more systems came online; and now the aroma of fresh wax flowed from the warm throbbing body which clambered over to straddle my hips. I prized open my partially onlined optics to see a familiar yellow form perched there. Purple optics glistened, and Swindle’s face spilt into a grin as he shook his head.

“So that’s it! Toxic dream - and you say I can't handle the stuff. Well, I thought as much! You reek of high grade like you’ve been drinking it since I’ve been gone! ”

I calmed myself, taking comfort from the firm 'aliveness' of the body above me, relieved in a way one can only be relieved upon discovery that a horrible event is not real. As the dream images faded, I preformed a quick evaluation. My toxicity levels were, indeed, too high, testified also by the throbbing in my head.

Then, I was embarrassed. How pathetic was I? And how hypocritical, especially after the way I’d complained about Swindle’s ‘state’ before he left.

"Nargghhhh!" I managed, my systems rapidly trying to configure to normal functioning. “I just – got worried about you.” Which was partially true.

Swindle gave a little chuckle. Then I felt soft warm hands on my chassis, pressure squirming against my hipos and codpiece as Swindle gyrated and metal screeched. When he spoke again, his voice was thick and husky.

“Smokey I want you. Like – I really want you!”

I hardly had time to think. The scent of wax was suddenly all around; skilled fingers felt into my grill, traced the end bars and ghosted over my headlamps. I shivered as the touch moved to my shoulder tyres, the soft rubber indenting with the squeeze of his fingers as he ground into my pelvis.

And suddenly everything was fully online, charge zinging through my circuits as my interface relays configured, fast. The dream was a receding memory. And having Swindle was the best prospect I’d ever had.

His valve cover was against my codpiece, warm and throbbing, and as the last vestiges of the dream winked out, he pressed down, his energy field flaring, its force ripping through me. Then my spike was pressurizing, hot and throbbing, begging for release; and there was nothing in the universe but screwing the aft off him.

He wriggled back on to my legs, his intakes hissing. Hands stroked the seams of my codpiece and he looked at me, his optics burning into mine. Then his head dipped and my spike bulged, huge, as I felt his mouth rove. “Open,” he gasped, his voice thick with static. “I need you to open!”

I did not take much persuasion.

“Oh yeah!” Swindle's intakes came in gasps as he closed his hand around my spike shaft, and then ran his fingers lightly up and down. His hot exhalations wafted warmly on the tip. I cried out as sensations raced tingling up my circuits to my core, where the charge fired with a burst of heat and flare of my energy field.

Swindle went rigid, groaning. “Smokey, fuck me!” Then he was back over my hips, his valve rim pressed against my spike, his hands on my chest. “No problem …” I rasped.

He raised his hips and then lowered himself, we moaned in unison as my spike slid into his valve, the ridges sliding perfectly into grooves, filling and lubricated and slick. The tip struck Swindle’s end plate and he cried out, arching back.

“Frag! I love fucking you!” he cried hoarsely, grabbing handfuls of my bumper and twisting metal in his ecstasy.

………

It did not last long. Swindle thrust on to me in hard, rhythmic strokes, ensuring my spike pounded against his end plate. Metal clanged on metal, lubricant flowed, sweet and acrid. I thrust in deeper, harder. As his ceiling node began to spark, Swindle screamed, forcing himself down and quickening his pace.

“Frag, Swindle, you’re hot!” I loved the feel of filling him. All the nodes and grooves swelled, feeding charge straight to my core and making me harder than I'd ever been. My own valve nodes prickled at the pleasure I was giving him.
Metal clanged, I bucked up as he shoved down, ramming in hard. I could sense his arousal build, feel the strength of his charge as my energy gathered. I knew that a flare of my field would probably send him over, but I hung on, enjoying the agony of anticipation.

And then, whimpering, shivering, he forced himself down, making my spike plumb deep as his valve tightened around it. I could not hold on; my field flared.

“All right!” Swindle yelled, "Frag yeah, yeah!" And then he screamed, as his valve clenched in a series of rhythmic spasms. Overload burst through him and my grill bard bent in his clasp, as he went on screaming ....

The force of his overload tore through me, as his valve contracted hard six, seven times. But I held off my own overload, loving seeing him come like that, allowing my charge to soar up and hover in an exquisite agony of want. I knew he would go again, almost immediately and, sure enough, as he finished his climax and collapsed on top of me, I felt his energy field prickle, his charge already rising afresh.

Then my spark swelled with emotion. “I missed you, Swin,” I gasped. It was the first thing which came to me, and I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight, my mouth against his faceplates, shivering with the strength of how much I felt for him.

He was perched up over me again. He throbbed, his systems giving off the hum of rising charge. His optics sparkled, a deep indigo. “Oh yeah, I really missed you!” he said. “You gotta fuck me some more! Like in the past. Like you did the first time we did it. Remember?”

……………..

The first time we did it ….

Swindle squirming under me on the table in the spare office as I thrust into him, having wanted to fuck him so badly now for so long that I’d hardly been able to contain myself. His hands had grabbed at me, his legs wrapping around as I thrust in.

The noise from the lending section of the Bank of Iacon had wafted through my audials; but I’d been past caring who heard or came in. I’d taken Swindle, spiking him, gloriously penetrating where I’d so needed to penetrate. I had lost control; so had he. In a few wild thrusts we had climaxed together.

At the last moment I had remembered where we were and clapped a hand on his mouth to stifle his howl of completion, as I bit into his neck to mute my own.

Now, my spike was as huge as then with unreleased charge, pushing up into Swindle as he ground himself on to it with comparable enthusiasm.

In the back of my processor, a little voice asked perhaps not so pleasant questions: why does he want me so much? What the hell has gotten him so horny? And worse: who does he really want to fuck?

But I dismissed them, charge now burning, too urgently needing a release to pay too much heed. Besides, I smugly thought back: whatever had happened, Swindle obviously hasn’t had it. From anybody! Whereas he most certainly was going to ‘get it’ from me now!

“Smokey … for frags sake we gotta do it!” he rasped, grabbing me round the neck and pulling me over sideways.

“Yeah ….!” I went with him, feeling my spike penetrate deeper as I rolled on to him. His engine revved and his body throbbed as he wrapped around me, his arms tight around my neck, his heels digging into my back. He squirmed, and I kissed him, hungrily seeking his mouth, probing my glossa deep.

His valve clenched, throbbing and wet, fluid spilling around my spike, charge ripped up through my core. The urge to thrust was excruciating; but there was more. My own valve moistened, the cover retracting. And suddenly I just had to know how it was having my spike in his valve.

You might wanna think about a little variation now and then ....
Heat exploded through me as I groped Swindle’s pelvic armour for his regular interface panel.

He broke the kiss and squirmed sideways to give me access. “Oh yeah, plug me in!” he rasped, his hands on the edges of my doorwings, making me shiver. “I want us connected, Smoke! Yeah! Fuck me while we’re connected."

His panel slid open. I grabbed the sparking connector, plunging it up into my now aching, open port. A storm of sparks crackled, blue; then I was bearing down on him, his metal against mine and my spike deep inside as I moaned, feeling him deeply, feeling him feeling me completely and fully.

“Smoke …” Swindle moaned, tilting his head back and shuttering his optics. My circuits simmered with charge; yet still I held off the urge to fuck him like crazy. Instead, I kissed him deeply again, hooking one arm around his helm and sliding the other hand down his side panels. He moaned and shuddered, pushing up, his hands grabbing my inside wing edges , his legs locked around my waist.

“Oh Swin …” I moaned into his mouth as I began to move us in rhythm.

................

I controlled us, going slowly at first. Swindle cried out, opening his legs, and then wrapping them tighter, pulling me down, bucking, grinding up in a circular motion. Oily scents combined with lubricant infused the air as his valve opened wider, deep and warm and sticky. Heat radiated as we moved, red hot squealing metal permeated by the hum of rising charge.

I floated in the ecstasy of complete arousal.

But the slow, sensual indulgence only lasted a short while. I could feel Swindle’s seething need, and my charge soared again, pushing the need for release to breaking point.

Swindle felt it. “Now do me!” he demanded, his voice thick and gravelly. “Harder than before. Harder than ever!“ He grabbed handfuls of wing and thrust up. “I need it. I need you!”

A massive surge swept through me. Any suspicion of why he wanted me so much floated to a distant memory, and with it went any control. All that mattered was that this was urgent. Completely urgent.

It couldn’t wait.

Trembling, seething with charge, I got up on my hands. Swindle's intakes came in short gasps; his optics blazed up at me, full and purple and liquid. He whimpered, his hands flopped on either side of his head, his fingers curling. I grasped them, pinning him. Then I lifted up, withdrawing my spike in one long, smooth stroke. Pausing, I allowed the agony of anticipation to engulf us both.
Swindle's frame shuddered.

I slammed in. Swindle arched back, rigid as his optics shuttered.

I plunged immediately in forceful, long thrusts. It was deep, hot, wonderful, never more exquisite; and I could feel him loving it, wanting it! My own valve cover opened, wet, the nodes tingling.

Faster and faster I pounded in and out, pinning his hands as he clamped both legs around and arched up, thrusting hard back, getting me into him as fully as he could. Then his charge was soaring, his valve tightening and spasming as he rose to climax.

I gripped his hands, going with him, feeling his peak coming, feeling it in my own valve as my spike hardened fit to burst. Up and up we rose; charge sang in our circuits, white noise filled my audios as the universe swam in a sea of colours. Then we hit the peak; and there was only the ecstasy of the brink, before our screams rang out and we soared over the top.

Swindle’s valve clamped rigid as charge seared through the end plate. I felt it fire upwards to his core astroseconds before my own systems exploded in release. I drove into him a few more times, coming forcefully, flooding him with hot, gushing transmech fluid as my own valve clenched and unclenched – although it did not quite release.

His valve contracted, a series of hard spasms which carried on going, even as I collapsed on to him and he wrapped around me, hugging me close and panting.

………………..

“That was ur-mazing!” Swindle was murmuring.

“Still is,” I murmured back. And it was - I meant it - in nearly every way.

I buzzed with the afterglow of satiation, pleasant sensations rippling through all my systems. But one thing was alarmingly evident: my valve had a tingly, 'untended' feeling. I thought I could even feel minute sparks erupting.

But it mattered not; for as I lay on him and we slowly recovered, I had a brilliant idea: Swindle could spike me!

Instantly I burned again. How exquisite to have a final valve release on top of what had come already! And Swindle could more than adequately provide it, I was sure; he was big enough, even if not quite as impressive as me. Had he not used to be reputed for fucking femmes?

I smiled, and kissed his helm.

But it was not to be. Swindle wriggled uncomfortably and I moved over, my spike retracting, sliding out with a ‘fwop’ sound, the connector detaching.

I flopped on my front beside him. We both lay on our fronts. He had his hand on his arm looking at me with his gorgeous optics, and I mirrored him, gazing back.

“Mmmnnn …. I love you,” he murmured. And I could see to my dismay that he could barely keep awake.

“You too,” I said. Then sensations rippled in my valve and I said “Swindle …” But his optics had shuttered.

I had one more try. “Swin, when we wake up, we gotta do this again!”

“When we wake up I gotta do a lotta work,” Swindle said, his voice slowing. “Bin a heavy couple a days, Smoke. I got a lotta catching up to do.”

He smiled, his voice slowing and deepening. “Be doin’ it here though. An ‘in between, yeah, that was really really roo-lly, ro-o-l-l-y …..

His voice tapered off. I was alone with my thoughts.

……………………….

I tried to get back offline. I really did. I knew I should just cuddle up next to Swindle and allow the joy of having him away to wash through my awareness, substituting for anything else. After all, had I not whined like a turbofox during this past cycle he was absent?

But I had been offline for a while, and now my processor wanted to be online. Swindle’s intakes sighed peacefully; I looked at him laying there, all golden and smexy. And I could not help it, the suspicions returned.

I sat up. To compound matters , my valve tingled again, releasing minute drops of fluid. I glanced around. The place was a mess – and this time it was all my doing. Well, I figured, I could easily phase out and get over this ‘valve’ thing by doing some more of what had made it a mess...

But my tanks churned at the thought of more high grade and, besides, that would not do. I needed a distraction. Something which would absorb me, keep my mind and body happily occupied until Swin was ready for ‘action.’

Now what would make me forget – completely and utterly - about my little problem, until Swindle awoke ? Make me feel – good? My optics strayed to a pile of gaming chips sitting on the dressing table which I had won some time back. In an instant, I had it. The card tables at Ganthis!

My processor did a few quick calculations. If I stole out now, I could catch a fast shuttle to the triple-changer -run , Cybertronian moon casino, and get in a few rounds. I'd be back in time for Swindle waking up – or at least, only just having started work.

I took one more look at my lover. His intakes sighed softly, his little dark face so peaceful that my spark melted. He would be ‘out’ for ages.

I congratulated myself. Now I thought about it, I felt ‘lucky.’ The sensations in my valve were already considerably lessened. No – there were pleasant prospects ahead. Swin would be delighted when I came back loaded – we could go somewhere fancy.

And then - I smiled to myself as all my interface gear tingled - we could do that other thing we used to do: arouse each other at the table; get ourselves to a state where we had to do and ‘do it’ somewhere nearby. A ‘risky’ place where we were all too likely to be discovered by white fronted waiters and Iaconian ‘dining’ society. Yes! How Swindle had loved that!

And we could talk about his new ‘business’ associations in a 'mature,' objective way; talk about how this fitted with us planning for the future. And - I thought resolutely – there would simply be no room for Vortex in the us part of it.

And I would ask Swindle about spiking me. He would be thrilled at the idea, I was sure. And not refuse …

It would almost be like a new start!

With this thought, I leaned over and kissed Swindle’s cheek. He stirred, and made a contented sound. My spark warmed. How I did love him! And what a great future we had.

Happy that I would return to the most positive of new thinking, I left the apartment and headed excitedly for the shuttle port.

Comments

[anon-feather.livejournal.com]

*Fans herself*

Hot, hot, hot!

Awesomesauce! Just great good awesomesause *is unable to make coherent comment*

[ayngelcat.livejournal.com]

Thank you, *is flattered.* And very glad you enjoyed it !

[artemis10002000]

why does he want me so much? What the hell has gotten him so horny? And worse: who does he really want to fuck?
These are good questions, Smokescreen, I was wondering that as well!

A very hot smutty chapter but I sense approaching doom for our hapless hero :P