Warnings: Coarse and sexual language, adult themes, sexual acts of the sticky variety in overall story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or any of the characters or scenarios from the series within this story.

In which Swindle is drunk, Smokescreen is tempted and Vortex is a manipulative bastard...

More thanks to the amazing Ultharkitty for beta-ing.

~~The Uninvited Guest~~

By Ayngel

Chapter 4

Giggling, Swindle, chewed on the end of a deathstick, which glowed brightly.

"Yeah, this guy Mixmaster was dealing in illegal substances bigtime," he wittered. "So I used my ex's business to launder the money. Mate of his – yeah – they made a fortune. Everyone thought Scrapper turned into a business mech. Heheheh! But it was me all along!"

Vortex chuckled indulgently. "Way to go, Swindle!" he said, depositing his empty cube among the pile of others next to the mounds of empty platters, the remnants of our meal, now consumed. He reached for another.

"Hey, Smokey! What did I say earlier about our Swin here? He's a genius!"

I grunted, and took a sip of my own cube. The deathsticks were bad enough, though not nearly as horrendous as the way Swindle had looked at Vortex all night, hanging on his very word like a lovestuck mechalescent. Now, he was on about his ex lover Scrapper and events which nearly landed him in jail – a subject which had caused more than a few arguments and which we had both agreed was best not raised. It seemed that Vortex had succeeded not only in reducing my lover to a fawning, rambling drunken idiot but entirely reprogramming his values.

It was all made worse by the revelation that Vortex - apparently - was not only one of Onslaught's 'heavies,' he acted as a kind of 'information gatherer' for the mech. This made Swindle's disclosures not only pitiful to listen to, but stupid and dangerous. I was running short of benevolence.

"Doorwings?" The deathsticks were being offered in my direction, as Vortex' optics roved seductively over my frame. I shivered; for here was the worst part: No matter what I thought of the situation, I had not dispelled the sure knowledge - infuriatingly - of exactly what Swindle was drawn to. And I could not stop the heat from erupting periodically though my pelvis, or the tingles which ran down my thighs and shot into my valve, causing nodes not stimulated in vorns to prickle and lubricate with need.

I could not look at him. "How many times do I have to tell you," I mumbled. "I don't do those things."

"Yeah, he quit!" Swindle babbled. "He's quit millions of times. But he'll go back to them. He's like that. Once he gets hooked on something, he can't stay off it!"

"Is that so?" Vortex grinned. He raised an optic ridge at me, and his gaze lingered. "Well now that must be a darned niuisance, eh? Not wanting to do something but not being able to stop yourself from doing it!"

My lower regions tied themselves in knots again.

"I'll clear the table!" I snapped, standing up.

….

"You were saying about the Tarn deal?" Vortex's salubrious tones drifted in as I put the empties in the garbage disposal.

"We had a spot o'trouble," Swindle said. "They busted Mixmaster. He went to jail. The rest of us had to get the hell out of Tarn cos they wanted to give the records a little unwelcome attention. Heheh! You know what I mean!"

I heard the inevitable click of yet another deathstick being lit. "Jail, huh? Tch tch tch!" Vortex said. "Careless move, winding up there. Still – you did all right, you clever little slagger, didn't you? No problem when it comes to you lookin' after yourself, eh?"

My denta gritted. If only his voice did not have that infuriating, utterly arousing drawl! My interface components twinged again as the aroma of oil and high quality fuel drifted into my olfactory sensors. There was a judder in my spike as the relays transmitted readiness, and my valve spasmed and widened.

"When things went up the pit," Swindle prattled on, "we shut up shop, an' then Scrapper an' I broke up. Him an' Boney an' Longhaul went and worked in the mines and' I came to Iacon an' kept my head down. Did all right though! I had a loada dough stashed. Helped when it came to getting' this place."

"Good move! Handy mech to have around, aren't you?"

I shuddered. There was no doubt that Vortex was far from the dumbaft I'd first thought. But the likeness to a cybercat extended also to his intelligence: cold, calculating and deadly. It was small wonder Onslaught employed him for what he did, and whatever the interest in Swindle's past, there was dark method, reason.

Worse, this only added more layers to the infuriating attractiveness. Now fresh prickles of dread were infused with even greater arousal.

But I felt a new rush of fresh ire at the subject of Swindle's place. As if all which had so far transpired was not enough! Did he have to humiliate me on top of it again with this? But it was hopeless. There was no point in saying anything on com. Swindle would only ignore it. Just like he'd pretty much ignored everything I'd said or done all night.

They were quiet for a few moments. I looked at the mound of empty cubes. If only Vortex would leave! How much had he drunk? Surely enough that he would surely need to recharge soon, even if the effects of his indulgence did hardly show. I had lost track of the time, but I knew it was late.

Yes, I had to just ride this out for a while longer, I told myself. Then I could whisk Swindle away. My interface components tingled again, and my spike twinged too this time; then suddenly the answer was simple. Yes - my pent up charge would be expended on Swindle, drunk or not drunk. Hadn't spiking him good and hard satisfied me up to now?

Ah yes, and my spike was getting nice and hard. By the time I'd finished, I wouldn't need quivering rotors and other big spikes, and Swindle would be looking at all of this in a whole new light. Inspired, I ran a hand over my heated codpiece, focusing on the tranfer of sensation away from my valve. It worked; and as my spike bulged against the codpiece seam, I kept my hand in place, allowing myself a few seconds of the pleasure of being turned on, in the sure knowledge that relief was soon to come.

In the lounge, there was silence, followed by a short shriek and Swindle erupting in a burst of giggles. "Ooohh … nice!" he squealed.

My pleasure ended abruptly. I scooted to the lounge, where I froze in the doorway: Swindle lolled in the chair, still laughing, an expression on his face which could only mean one thing.

Vortex looked up at me with a sheepish grin, innocence etched into his optics. "It was only a little flare …" he said.

So he did want Swindle. And now it was openly on display! I felt myself flush with anger. "I'd prefer if you were going to do it, that it wasn't in my loungeroom!" I snarled.

Vortex managed to import a look of great disappointment on to his faceplates.

"Oh come on doorwings!" he said. "I'm just having fun. Don't be such a party pooper!"

"Yeah! Lighten up!" Swindle giggled foolishly. "It's my loungeroom, remember? I can do what I like!"

I glared at both of them. "Well I'd be obliged if you'd keep your energy fields to yourselves!" I snapped, much less angry than I should have been and trying not to make obvious that I was dizzy with heat and and my valve again throbbed wildly, just at the thought of such a flare being directed at me.

…

A little later, I'd consumed two cubes in rapid sucession and felt a little better, having ignored Vortex's knowing smile. Swindle, however, was starting to look decidedly the worse for wear. He sprawled at the table, his optics misty. There'd been no more flirtations, but he was back to rambling. We'd now moved on to his 'early years.'

"I grew up in Tarn, ac - chooally!" he ground out slowly. "My creators come from there. But they're shlaggers! They ain't even really my cree-aytors."

Picking up his cube, he took a loud slurp. "Yeah, I'm not one o'them! I got Alpha pwo-gwamm-ing, Vortex – one side – thass why I'm thish colour, see? Why should I stay in a hole like Tarn with a loadda fraggin' loo-shers?"

I picked up the latest empty cubes, noting that whilst he was listening, Vortex perhaps didn't look quite as interested as he had earlier. His optics kept flickering in my direction as Swindle was talking. A ray of hope appeared. He wasn't storing that info. And he might go soon. Good! Because I wanted him to do that.

Didn't I?

Vortex was looking up at me, a sly grin on his face. "This gets better and better!" he chuckled. "There you go, Smokey! You hang with this guy, you'll be living in the Towers one day. If he keeps you around, that is!"

The soporific effect of the high grade stopped me from biting. Ignoring him, I took the last few cubes into the kitchen, dumping them loudly in the trash beside the others. Meanwhile, Swindle gave a loud hiccough.

"I got a sshh … cholarship in Sale. That was a shlaggin' dump n' all! But mechs there hadn't been around! Whereas I had. Yeah! I'd been around Vortex! That was my firsht big haul. At that shlaggin' college."

As I came back into the room, Swindle put his cube down on the table heavily. High grade slopped from it. He put his head on his arm. "Awwwww …. p-pittt …I'm ….pished …" he stammered! "Don't feel the bessht! Wanna liddle resht …"

Vortex pushed his chair back and stretched his legs out. He raised an optic ridge. "Think it might be berthybise time!" he said.

Swindle did not move. His optics shuttered, and there was the rasp of heavy intaking. Energon dripped from the table on to his knee, then trickled down to drip into a growing pool on the floor.

Vortex looked at the pool, then at Swindle, then back at me. Smoke trailed upwards from the deathstick glowing in his long fingers as he sucked on it sensuously. I tried not to look at his codpiece, which formed a much too impressive bump on his lap. He grinned.

"Well, doorwings! Looks like your love interest wiped himself out! And you look kinda – tired – there! I reckon a little relaxation would go down well , don't you?" He grinned. "Why don't we 'wrap it up' for the night and have a lie down together? Just the three of us ... snuggly - y'know?"

Swindle must have heard, somehow. Because a little giggle came from his slumped form, and he shivered . "Yeah, nice ... lesh all go an' do that!" He said. Then he seemed to melt on to the table.

Vortex' optics were on me. He moved, sitting up and opening his legs wider in a way which inevitably enhanced the codpiece, as his rotors fanned out and quivered.I looked away and shifted uncomfortably, as my valve spasmed with new intensity. The ache in my lower regions was suddenly almost unbearable as heat ripped through my core. Holy Primus! A little voice said, not the three of you, just the two of you!

But Swindle moved, letting out a sigh, and Vortex looked at him suggestively. "Ooh yeah! Reckon somebody ougtta clean the energon off that knee!"

So he still wanted Swindle! I was furious again. "It is 'berthybise' time for him!" I snapped. Trying to keep the 'huskiness ' from my voice. "Just him."

A knowing grin spread over Vortex's face. He snickered, folding his rotors together and then extending them again with excuciating sensuality. I managed to keep my optics from them, and from the equally infuriatingly handsome faceplates and the rest of his anatomy. Stooping down, I picked Swindle up and hoisted him on to my shoulder. Without even a glance at Vortex, I carried him to the berth room.

...

I sat on the berth, looking at Swindle laying there. Maybe I should just climb on beside him, leave Vortex on his own in the lounge? Devoid of entertainment, he would surely leave ...

But I was not going to do that. The mere thought was almost unbearable. How could I? My lower regions were on fire, my valve ached with a throbbing longing to be filled. Without any prompting, a fantasy arose: ... face down across the table ... he is in me ... hard, huge, painful, relentless ... the table scritching across the floor as he does me so hard ...

I nearly whimpered. No, I could not leave him out there. And it had nothing to do with the feeble excuse I was giving myslef: that Vortex was a criminal, and if I left him alone he'd likely strip the apartment of valuables. It was because I could not risk the possibility of his departure.

There was the sound of movement in the lounge, a whiff of oil and high grade. Oh frag! A sharp burst of charge ripped through me, and fluid washed into my valve. I felt my face flush, as I was unable to stop my energy field from emitting a sizeable flare.

Swindle gave a shiver, and a little smile appeared on his faceplates. Then he rearranged himself, letting out a sigh as he settled back into recharge. My spark twisted. I did love him! For a few astroseconds I almost forgot Vortex as I was consumed by a great tenderness.

"Smokey?" Vortex called. "Snuggles with Swin?" But oh Primus I wanted my valve filled so badly. Love warred with lust. That voice, another whiff of oil. His hot throbbing body and rotors and spike ...

Lust was winning ...

I looked at Swindle. Not with Swin, I murmured. Leaning over, I kissed his cheek and he squirmed contentedly. "It doesn't mean I don't love you, Swin!" I whispered. And meant it.

…

I was back in the lounge; and now I knew I should be wrapped around Swindle, cuddling him tight, making it so there was no room in the Universe for anyone except us.

Vortex cracked another cube and passed it to me. I felt strangely shy, now, alone with him. But I took the drink. It would be rude to not have it with him, wouldn't it? Yes - that was why I took it. Not because I was my insides were churning, or my sensor net prickling like a mechalescent on a first hot date.

Vortex stood up. He stretched, his rotors fanning and performing a slow revolution. He was huge, his essence all consuming. I melted. He was, quite simply, magnificent! He stretched again; and although he did not look at me, I was sure I could sense arousal in him, feel his interface components priming. He wanted me! Now my valve was really open, the nodes sparking as all through my pelvis erotic zones activated and intense pleasure rippled through my circuits. The cover over my valve shuddered, begging for a command to open.

In the back of my processor, a voice chided me, for changing my tune so completely just because my valve needed a service, and most of all for Swindle. But I pushed the voice out. I needed this! Besides, I now justified, Swindle wanted this from Vortex - and he may well get it! Swindle would understand.

I waited, growing hot, sensation radiating to my core, as charge built within me like a tide, a deluge which would end the frustration. Any second now, he would set me on fire with a red opticed stare and flare his energy field. The ecstatic encounter would begin.

But it didn't. Instead, he moved over to the mirror and regarded himself critically with his hands on his hips, the rotors again gliding slowly round.. "Think I might check out Iacon nightlife," he said. His reflection grinned at me. "You're right - snuggles are out. I'm in the mood for a little energy release. Lets see now …. maybe something big, with wings and thrusters ..."

He had not just said that. I could not have heard him right! Could he not see I was burning, scintillating in readiness? And besides - he wanted me! "But w-what you said about needing some – variety ..." I stammered, the words barely discernible above the static. "I'm thinking ... you're right, Vortex ... and I can help you with the - uh - release."

But he turned to face me, his lips twisted in a mocking smile.

"Well now - you seem to be jumping the gun a little!" he said, his voice smooth as platinum tailings. "I suggested, yeah, that you had some variety. I didn't say I was gonna provide it!" He looked reproachful. "What about Swindle? Not a very nice thing to do with him lying there offline, now is it? I thought you guys had a thing going?"

I was filled with that same incredulity as I had felt in the kitchen after he'd touched my wing. And then, as before, with a boiling anger. This was about Swindle - and playing me! I had been right all along. And oh what I fool, what a gullible, pitiful fool I was, because surely, after earlier, I should have known.

But I was determined he would not see my humiliation. So even though my entire systems were simmering, my valve was still smarting, I rose with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Yeah – uh - very sensible! " I croaked. "Dunno what I was – uh – saying. I'm gonna turn in with Swindle. Because you're right, we have got a thing. And I don't want anything messing that up!"

He chuckled, finishing his cube, an amused glint in his optics. "Yeah," he said. "Me neither. Couldn't agree more. Can't afford to upset Swin. Business, eh?"

You're a vain, despicable, sadistic aft! I was wanting to yell. I wanted to run into the berthroom, grab one of Swindle's brand new rifles and run back in and let fire, watch his black form crumple as he writhed in agony, mumbling out an apology!

My faceplates must have said it all. Vortex's casual demeanour changed, and he gave me a look; It was dangerous, a clear warning; laced with a ruthlessness which made any possibility of violence against him seem feeble, pitiful, and leading to only one end result. An icy chill whipped through my circuits; yet the power of it thrilled me - all the more because I was certain that embroidered within was still the faint twinge of desire.

I found myself thinking, against all semblance of logic: There's hope ...

And I wanted there to be hope. Even though I chided myself for my patheticness, I did not want Vortex to walk away and out of my life. "Fine!" I said coldly. "I'll deactivate the security door. You know the way out!"

"Sure do!"

He started to amble over to the doorway, where he paused. "Do me a favour would you? See to it Swin ain't late tomorrow!" he grinned. "It's a big day. And hey – get some rest yourself!"

My mouth fell open, to say ... well I know not what. It is accurate to say that at that point, words failed me. But he was gone, anyway; clanking down the stairs. Furious, I flicked the security switch hard, and heard the sound of the downstairs door opening and closing, followed by footsteps and transformation noises outside.

Then my anger bubbled over and I slammed the appartment door with a bang which shook the whole building.

As the roar of a powerful engine sounded, accompanied by the loud thwop thwop of rotors cutting through the still night air, I grabbed the cube from the table and threw the contents down.

It was as well, I reflected, as the noise began to fade, that despite the volumes drunk that night there was still plenty more where this came from.

I was going to need it.