Title: Audience
Warnings: slash, smut (of the plug'n'play variety), PWP
Continuity: G1
Characters/Pairings: Brawl/Swindle, mentions of Sixshot/Blast Off
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.
Beta: ultharkitty :)
Summary: Brawl is on monitor duty and is pretty charged, so he calls Swindle…

Note: Follows Indifference and Difference, but also can be read as a stand-alone fic :)

Audience

"What do we have here?" Swindle said, grinning as he sat on Brawl's lap. His back was turned to the tank and his optics fixed on the biggest screen of the monitor room.

He'd heard the staticky moans and other noises of the two mechs on the screen when he'd entered the room, and it was indeed interesting. Their prudish shuttle was getting fragged against the wall by a dangerous, lethal war machine and enjoying every astrosecond… Very interesting.

The tank's engine behind Swindle revved and hands gripped his waist, but he shoved them away.

"Huh?" It was only a quiet whimper from Brawl, and Swindle grinned maliciously. He wouldn't make it that easy for the other; Brawl had blown up his quarters, and he had to pay for it.

Swindle stood up.

"Hey, you're not leaving, ar~oh!"

He turned and sat down again, straddling the tank; Brawl looked him with this stupid grin of his. Swindle had to admit that it would have been almost cute if it wasn't so… well, stupid. The charge of the other hung between them, and he couldn't deny that the noises of the mechs in the rec-room had an effect on him as well.

The hands moved again, groping his hip, and Swindle leant forward, wrapping his arms around the tank's neck.

"So… what do you have in mind?" he asked near the other's audio sensor, causing Brawl to shudder. His lips brushed over the metal oh-so-lightly as he carried on. "You could share your optical input with me. Then you can enjoy the show, and I'll take care of the rest…" To emphasise his words, Swindle revved his engine and pressed closer.

Brawl's answer was only a stifled moan and a slight nod before he pulled Swindle nearer and pinged the jeep for a data transfer.

Oh this was going to be fun, Swindle thought. He accepted the data stream, and opened a new window in his HUD with the view of the other mechs. Though he didn't pay as much attention to them as Brawl did, and focused on something else. Shuffling in Brawl's lap, his engine revved again and he stroke down the other's side.

Swindle felt Brawl shivering under his touch, and he grinned again. The tank was so charged already, but Swindle wanted this to be slow. Not because he truly wanted it, just because Brawl didn't seem to.

His fingers deliberately ignored the other's interface panel and he traced up again. He nibbling at Brawl's neck along the other's helm and jaw just enough not to block the view.

"You can use your field…" Swindle mumbled, and flared his. "I know you want to…"

Another muffled groaning mingled with the background noises of the events on screen, and Brawl's field met Swindle's. It caused the businessmech to gasp and he bit into the neck cables, pressing against the tank. Brawl's engine rumbled louder, sending vibrations right into Swindle's frame, while hands began roving over his plating.

Swindle returned the favour, still ignoring his team mate's interface panel, lazy digits tracing over the tank's intakes and upper arms. Digging into transformation seams and teasing the circuitry there, he kissed along the side of the helm and moaned into Brawl's audial on purpose.

Brawl's intakes hitched, and his hands trembled. Then, the tank turned his head, searching for Swindle's mouth, but the jeep put a hand on the other's lips.

He grinned again, and shook his head. "Don't... I wanna enjoy the show, too, so don't stop looking at them."

It was a half lie, because – even if the view of their team mate being aroused and pressed against the wall, moaning, gasping and muttering words Swindle never even realised the shuttle knew was a turn on - it was a torture for Brawl. Being touched so slowly, forced to look at Blast Off being fragged so roughly, it would drive that tank insane, and the needy whimper was a first proof of it.

He ignored the fact that all this together was also a huge turn on for Swindle and not just punishment for the tank.

He flared his field anew, and kept a steady pace to the pulses which washed over Brawl, but not completely.

The tank answered with his own flares, the hands grabbing his hip tightly, and they both moaned.

"Stop playing around," Brawl muttered, and Swindle pretended not to hear it. He let his hand wander to the other's back, stroking up and down, before the finger tips traced lightly over the other's cannon barrel.

"Open up…" he just said, and he poked the other's interface panel.

Brawl shuddered and nodded, causing the shared visual to flicker, and the panel opened with a quiet click. Biting his lip not to smirk again, Swindle felt the unsteadiness in the other's energy signature. Anticipation probably, but Swindle wasn't about to establish the connection just yet.

Oh no, Brawl should suffer.

Firstly, he paid attention to the other's port, let his finger dig in and out, teasing the conductors with slightly stronger energy field flares from his hand. He earned himself a groan; Brawl's optics flickered again, disturbing the clear image of the screen for a few astroseconds. Then Swindle reached for the connector, smirking as he did so, and led it to his lips. Kissing it, licking it, he caused Brawl's engine to stutter. The tank vented air deeply, the pace of his intakes increasing, and Swindle's own cooling fans whirled to life.

"Oh slag, just…" Brawl bit his lip and glanced at Swindle, and the businessmech stopped.

"Look at the screen," Swindle said as blankly as possible and it made him wonder how Blast Off could manage to sound so unimpressed even while interfacing. Though, the shuttle didn't sound bored now; the noises of the two mechs in the rec-room became frantic, louder, and a shiver ran down Swindle's back struts.

Brawl whimpered, his optics still at his connector in Swindle's hand, an idle finger stroking it slowly; the jeep saw the pictures in his HUD, while his own view was fixed on Brawl's needy expression.

"The screen Brawl…" he said, with more static in his voice than he wanted to. He leant forward again, making his face block Brawl's view completely as his lips touched the tank's for a quick kiss. His dropped his tone to a whisper, their lip plates only an inch apart, the both of them trembling.

"C'mon Brawl… they're close, you can hear it…" Swindle's other hand still stroked the other's cannon barrel, while he squeezed the connector. "You can look at me after their overload…"

A faint whimper, and another nod from the tank before he looked again at the screen.

Oh, this was too good, Swindle thought, and his field flared intensely without his conscious intent. Brawl's fingers dug deeper into the plating of his hip as he began licking the other's plug anew.

Swindle opened his interface panel, and he could see in Brawl's face how hard it was for him not to look at the revealed hardware. He waited another few astroseconds, and he didn't admit to himself that he couldn't even have waited any longer, and then plugged the connector into his port.

The first rush of data was transmitted right into him, and Swindle moaned. He felt Brawl's arousal, knew even better what the view of the two mechs did to him and how hard it was to keep looking with Swindle doing all this.

"Slag…" Swindle gasped, this was really good. Their gestalt program approved of the connection, and it was due to its influence that Swindle didn't wait any longer to complete the interface. With a swift move, he took his own cable, and his connector slid into the other's port - slowly, because Swindle wasn't so out if it as that he forgot about the punishment.

It clicked again, and the jeep's body reacted on its own as his own excitement and status was sent to Brawl.

They both moaned, the tank's view blurred along with Swindle's as the gestalt program synchronised their systems and everything became a giant puddle of pleasure. For the first few moments, Swindle couldn't do much at all, and the mechs in the rec-room overloading just didn't matter.

These moments passed, though, and Swindle's lip plates twitched to a grin. The grip at the cannon barrel tightened, and he pressed into the throbbing tank engine. Restraining his systems from sending strong pulses into the other, he gained a confused murmur from Brawl. It was hard not to respond to the other's intense energy bursts, but Swindle was still about to make the other suffer.

"Why…?" Brawl asked under static, and Swindle knew, despite that their bond was closed, the gestalt coding gave the other the insight into his intention.

"Because… you blew my quarters up…" Swindle answered, gasping, his hand clutching at the other's interface panel, kneading his connector.

A moan, and the tank's hands slid under his aft, tugging him closer while his energy field flared over Swindle.

"Not on purpose…"

"But you did… With me inside." Their chests ground together, windshield glass clinking softly as engine vibrations mixed to a pleasurable throbbing which triggered the most delicious sensations on his sensor net - their sensor nets, because Swindle felt everything Brawl did - and it was amazing. He sighed, and shuddered.

Brawl's fingers wandered over his back, pressing him on him, and he arched into the touch.

Still, Swindle kept the pace of his energy exchange slow, or he tried to; but it increased without his doing command.

"I could frag you against the console…" Brawl mumbled, static-laden, and he really meant he wanted to make up for it. "…hard and fast…"

Swindle moaned. Actually, this was a really tempting idea, but he was still obsessed from making the tank pay, and so he shook his head, sending a rush of data and energy through the connection to make Brawl's legs feel weak, and prickling, and quivering, and the feedback loop sent all this back to him.

They both gasped, their grip around each other become tighter. Their lips met in a rough kiss, and it was when Brawl's field flared again, seeping into his seams and circuits, and the tank's energy flooded his systems, accompanied with more tingling inside his arms, on his back and on the frame of his windshield what, that Swindle decided that he in fact did want to be fragged against the control console after all - hard and fast.

Brawl rose from the chair, a hand still on the jeep's aft and one on his back. Swindle wrapped his legs around the other's waist as he was dragged over and his back hit the console. A few buttons were pushed, and screens flickered, but this really wasn't important right now.

"Oh… yes!" Swindle moaned, squirming, fingers scratching Brawl's cannon, because it was what the tanked liked. He transmitted a stream of data, intensified the pleasure on the tank's back, and the gun turret there, and Brawl groaned loudly against his lip plates.

Pressing him closer to the console, Brawl mumbled, his vocaliser glitching with static. "Slag yes, just like that…"

Swindle stretched his throat, and the tank understood, biting the lower lip once before he kissed along the jeep's cables and bit down.

Optics flickering, Swindle grinned. This felt so good, and he didn't realise the charge was growing so quickly. His sensor net hummed under pleasure and prickling delight, the waves came more often, their rate increased along with the needy sounds of the two mechs.

"Yes… slag yes, more!" Swindle gasped, his hand released the interface panel as he reached for the other's helm, pulling it up only to press their mouths together. Glossas met while they panted fast, cooling fans worked quickly, and pleasure rose; mumbling incoherent words between kisses, they turned each other on even more. Their pulsating energy fields caused the control console to malfunction, and both of them to sigh and moan.

The energy exchange intensified, and amplified the delight until it was all too much.

Sensory overload hit Swindle off guard. The pleasure circulating through both their systems reached its zenith with surprising force. Gasping, moaning, Swindle arched his back; writhing on the console, his finger left paint streaks on the cannon barrel as pure ecstasy flowed over his sensor net. Every node lit up, and it felt like swimming in electricity. His overload mingled with Brawl's climax and sensations were amplified a last time to a cascade of bliss until it reached the peak and left them gasping and shivering.

Swindle's limbs relaxed and his hand slid down, landing on the console with a clang. On him lay Brawl, still frequently shuddering and sighing, but grinning against Swindle's mouth. They didn't need to speak, the connection gave them enough insight, and both thought the same.

Slag, that was good.

Swindle returned the kiss lazily kept right on lying there. The clutching hold of the other's cannon turned into an idle stroking.

"You're still angry?" Brawl mumbled, nibbling at the jeep's lip plates.

Swindle huffed. Brawl knew the answer, but apparently he wanted to hear it. He shrugged inwardly and responded. "Nope…" Then he kissed the tank again.

He could stay a little longer and enjoy the post-overload tingles, Swindle thought. He just needed to leave before Soundwave found out they broke the control console by fragging.

He sighed, relaxed.

Brawl tensed.