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Chapter 39: Barrel and SwiftStroke III
C.M.D: This is the last time these two will be involved in this specific fic. If you are interested in seeing more of my OCs though, please check out my Deviantart for more updates on them!
Title: Barrel and SwiftStroke III
Rating: T
The smell of a passing heat cycle
filled the devon rex's olfactory sensors as he marched through the
door. Already in a bad mood from earlier that orn, Swindle snarled as
he also caught whiff of an unknown 'bot's scent; storming off down
the hall and towards his “dead weight's” berthroom. How dare that
insolent pup even think to bring someone into his home?! “You
stupid mu-”
The berthroom door slammed against the
opposite wall as he kicked it open, more curses on the tip of his
glossa. But they were silenced immediately as Swindle stared into the
darkened room. The floor was clear and tidy, as the kittycon had
neither bought or given his charge any toys or games, and the lone
dresser had its shelves all pushed in properly, the clothes folded
inside. What really caught the mech's attention though was the
autodog knocked out soundly on the berth, twisted up among the small
sheets. He hadn't even woken up with Swindle's violent entrance.....
but his “guest” had.
Sharp, cold magenta optics peeked over
Barrel's arm, a small shape rising up silently from behind him.
“W-who..... who are you?,” Swindle
growled, fangs baring defensively. The stranger simply crawled over
the saint bernard's frame, one servo resting on the sparkling's helm
and his fox tail curling under an arm possessively. At the inquiry,
the other's optics narrowed further, flashing angrily.
A cold finger of fear actually shivered
down the devon rex's backstruts.
Not wanting to admit defeat or his own
cowardice, Swindle just spat in contempt, before grabbing the door
and slamming it behind him as he stormed from the room. Again, Barrel
did not wake. Surrounded by darkness once more, SwiftStroke turned to
the slumbering sparkling, almost amazed by his ability to sleep
through such ruckus. Not that it really mattered.
Venting quietly, the fox patted the
autodog's cheekplate softly before lying back down beside the bigger
'bot. He ignored the stickiness between his thighs and the soreness
of his aft, feeling positively drained as it was. It was only when he
was certain that Barrel's incompetent guardian would not come
storming back in to yell at the pup, did SwiftStroke finally drift
off into recharge.
xxXxXxx
“Let me see,” SwiftStroke demanded.
Trying to still hide the dent, Barrel
weakly shook his helm, whimpering when the fox grabbed his chin all
the same and tugged the other's face towards him. “You've been
hurt,” the fox stated flatly. The barest prickle of a hiss could be
heard in his tone.
“I-it...it's only a small one,” the
saint bernard stuttered. “A-an accident, too, I promise. Really!”
The smaller mech narrowed his optics.
“How?”
The sparkling whimpered again;
immediately SwiftStroke released him, gently stroking the damaged
cheekplate with a forefinger. “My apologies,” he said softly. The
magenta optics glanced off to the side momentarily before they slid
back to him.
Blushing at the concern, Barrel shifted
uneasily, wanting more but too shy to ask for it. He was caught
off-guard when the fox suddenly leaned forward, pressing a kiss to
his sore cheekplate. “S-swift....,” the autodog gasped. He
watched, stunned, as SwiftStroke pulled away; his blush darkening.
Yellow fingers fidgeted self-consciously. “S-swift..... c-could
I....?”
“If you'd like,” came the other's
reply. Tail wagging excitedly, the saint bernard bent down further,
kissing the fox soundly. He purred merrily as he felt SwiftStroke
return the pressure; optics flaring brightly when he felt a warm
glossa prod at his lip components. Barrel opened his mouth, allowing
the smaller mech entrance, and slipping his own glossa into
SwiftStroke's mouth. He always found this way of kissing strange, but
he enjoyed the fox's soft taste of lemons and honey, and the way the
other pressed closer when they did it.
Breaking apart, Barrel sat back on his
haunches, grinning broadly at SwiftStroke. “Thank y-”
“We're going to speak to your
guardian,” the fox interrupted quickly. The autodog straightened up
at the words, tail falling behind him.
“B-but, why....?,” the sparkling
stuttered, “I m-mean, w-we don't-”
“We do,” came the sharp reprimand.
“And we're going now.”
Barrel shot to his pedes as SwiftStroke
turned and started to march away; startled and anxious, the autodog
hurried to follow after his companion.
xxXxXxx
Again, Swindle came home to a stranger
in his apartment.
“Just what do you think you're doing,
you little fr-” The devon rex choked on the rest of his words as he
was sent flying back into the wall with a simple kick from the fox;
sliding to the floor, one arm wrapped around his chestplates. The big
idiot gasped behind the small mech, trying to grasp his partner's
shoulders.
“S-swift, please....”
“No,” the teal-grey mech cut in. He
cast a quick glance to Barrel. “Do not interfere.” Quietly, the
saint bernard backed down.
“You, you glitch!,” the
entrepreneur spat, trying to get back to his pedes. SwiftStroke
narrowed his optics at the curse; silently, he reached under his
coat, withdrawing a gun which he aimed directly at the kittycon's
helm. At the sight of the weapon, both of the larger mechs froze.
“Sw-swift.... w-why, why do y-you
have a-a.... a gun?,” Barrel whimpered in confusion. “P-please,
don't h-hurt him, Swift; i-it was an a-accident, re-really!”
Swindle kept his optics fixed to that
gun, denta bared tensely. He would move for his own firearm holstered
under his shirt, but he doubted the stranger would allow him even the
chance to move, and he rather liked not having a hole in his helm.
Instead, he glared at Barrel, and then at the fox. “I should have
known you were a worthless little fragger, pit-spawn.... Bringing
your personal spike-pillow into my home,” the devon rex hissed.
Short, cruel laughter slipped past his fangs at the stunned look on
Barrel's face.
“What? You didn't think I knew about
all the times you snuck your friend into my home, and then fragged
out his processor?,” Swindle sneered. “Disgusting.... So, what
are you going to do now, huh? Kill me and take whatever you like?!
And after I so graciously took in and clothed and fed your no-good
skidplate. Why I oughtta-”
“Silence!,” snapped the fox. Barrel
swallowed back the sob that had started to rise, turning his
attention to SwiftStroke and away from his furious guardian. Swindle
bit back the rest of his words reluctantly, deciding keeping his life
was worth more than spewing his hatred at this moment.
“I didn't come here to listen your
pointless complaints,” SwiftStroke continued. “Though you deserve
none of it.... I come to give you an offer.”
The smaller mech lowered his gun, his
glare keeping the kittycon in place. Flatly, he said, “You have no
care for the sparkling -this much is obvious. Regardless, he is not
deserving of the abuse you have given him.”
“What abuse?! If you're talking about
that stupid dent on his face, that was his own fault -he tripped over
his pedes and slammed into the counter! I should be the one
complaining. He crushed a whole bag of groceries in the process!!”
The fox quickly lifted his gun again.
“Nonetheless,” he interjected coldly, “You have neglected,
mistreated and made this sparkling feel like he is worthless. He is
not deserving of it, and it only further proves your pathetic
nature.”
“You little-”
“I am not finished. Do not interrupt
me,” SwiftStroke hissed. Swindle bit down hard on his glossa,
clenching his servos at his sides. Allowing a moment of silence, the
fox continued. “Though I would like nothing more than to leave you
to this 'suffering', I will not allow Barrel to be put through
anymore of this. Barrel -go pack your things.”
The saint bernard jolted at the
command. Anxiously, he turned around to partially face the smaller
mech, wringing his servos together uncertainly. “W-what, Swift?
D-do you w-want me to...?”
“Yes,” the other replied. “Go
now. Pack only what you believe essential. You are coming back with
me. Do you understand?”
Barrel's entire demeanor brightened at
the words. Tail wagging, the sparkling scurried down the hall to his
room, forgetting for a moment about the guardian his friend still had
pinned at gun point. Swindle watched the autodog go, stunned at the
words the fox had said. Looking back at the teal-grey mech, the
kittycon glared at the weapon still aimed for him.
“So you're taking him then?”
SwiftStroke shuttered his optics
slowly. “Yes. Lie if you will and pretend that he is under your
constant surveillance, but I will save you the effort of not caring
anymore,” the fox said. “From now on, I shall take care of him.”
It wasn't exactly something that
Swindle was against. “Very well,” he replied, grudgingly, “Take
the brat. Just hurry up and get out of my house.”
“Nothing would make me happier,”
SwiftStroke returned, putting his gun away just as Barrel shuffled up
behind him. Not even glancing back at the sparkling, the smaller 'bot
headed for the door. Barrel waited until SwiftStroke had slipped
outside before smiling sadly at Swindle, clutching his small suitcase
before him.
“Thank you for taking care of me for
so long, and for being my daddy for a little while.... even if I was
nothing more than a bother to you....,” he said softly. Inclining
his helm forward a little, the saint bernard started for the door.
“Bye bye, Swindle sir.”
Closing the front door behind him as he
left, Barrel was not all that surprised to find SwiftStroke waiting
for him patiently. The fox quickly glanced up and down the hallway,
making sure that they were alone. “Have you said your goodbyes?,”
he asked. The sparkling nodded his helm mutely. Catching the motion,
SwiftStroke turned back around to face the autodog, holding out a
servo for Barrel to take. “Let us go.”
Optics flashing in excitement, the
bigger mech quickly grabbed his partner's servo, clasping it tightly
in his larger one. The fox said nothing to the purr that followed,
allowing himself to be slightly tugged down the hall and to the
elevators.
xxXxXxx
“I-is.... is this really for me?”
The autodog look on excitedly, his optics moving from every corner of
the room rapidly. He took in the brand new bed covered in fresh
sheets, the star and sun curtains on the window, and the treasure
chest at the foot of the bed filled with toys all for him. Against
the one wall, was a dresser for all his clothes, and there was even a
closet for him to use. At the beautiful room, Barrel whirled around,
looking at SwiftStroke in disbelief and utter adoration.
“Yes....,” the fox answered flatly.
“All of it?!”
SwiftStroke blushed a little. “Yes.....
Stroke wanted you to come live with us for a long time. She's had
plenty of time to get together everything needed, and everything else
she thought you'd like.”
Unable to repress his joy, Barrel
quickly reached down and scooped the smaller mech up, snuggling him
close. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!,” he chirped,
nuzzling the fox. Realizing exactly what he was doing, and that he
had not asked permission first, the sparkling blushed, immediately
setting his friend down. “I.... I- umm..... I, I'm sorry, Swift,
I-”
“It is quite alright,” SwiftStroke
interrupted. He turned his helm away from the bigger 'bot quickly,
grabbing Barrel's suitcase. “Come, let us get your things put
away.”
The autodog followed behind obediently,
his tail sweeping up a current behind him.
xxXxXxx
It was dark.
Barrel stared up at his ceiling,
clutching the sheets up to his chin. He tried to go to sleep -he knew
he was sleepy- but he just couldn't wind down. The sparkling was just
so wound up, his thoughts running miles in his helm. This was too....
new for him, and strange. Stranger than when he had suddenly been
dumped into Swindle's care.
The saint bernard tried to shutter his
optics, but when he did, lights from outside on the street flashed
into his room, startling him. He spent the next couple kliks counting
sheep. When things finally quieted down again and Barrel started to
drift off, some noise echoed in the silent apartment, scaring the
autodog. Then he'd spend the next several kliks assuring himself that
it was just some floorboard or some person from the floor above, and
not some monster out to get him.
Finally, after what felt like cycles of
many failed attempts at recharging, Barrel slithered out of berth and
padded down the hall to the living room. In giving him his own room,
SwiftStroke had been left without one; now the fox lay curled up on
the couch, face tucked into the crook of his arms and thin blanket
draped over his slender frame. For a moment, the sparkling just stood
at the entry way, peering in at the slumbering mech meekly. He
couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to call out for SwiftStroke.
After all, he did not want to disturb his friend.....
“Barrel.... What is the matter?”
The autodog lifted his helm quickly to
see magenta optics shuttering slowly back at him; the fox now sitting
up attentively on the couch. Blushing, Barrel lowered his helm again,
peering at SwiftStroke shyly. “W-well, I.....,” he choked, unable
to get the words out.
“Yes?,” the teal-grey 'bot pressed
softly.
“C-could, I mean.... it was dark
a-and the noises.... s-so, umm, c-could I s-sleep with you, S-swift?”
SwiftStroke looked at him blandly.
Cheekplates darkening, Barrel realized exactly what he had said and
he played with his fingers anxiously; staring at the floor beneath
his pedes. “I-i mean -th-that is to say.....,” he trailed off
uncertainly, stuttering and whimpering.
“I'm afraid the couch will not be big
enough,” came SwiftStroke's flat tone. “But I understand. You can
not sleep.”
The saint bernard's helm snapped up
again at the response, his tail wagging behind him earnestly now.
SwiftStroke understood! Did that mean he could stay with him, instead
of going back to his room? Seeing that the fox had shifted some on
the couch, Barrel took that to be a confirmation to his needy
request; quickly he bounded over, crashing to the floor, his helm and
arms resting on the couch cushions.
“Barrel....,” the fox began.
“I-it's alright. I like this,” the
sparkling said, cutting off what the smaller mech had been about to
say. Barrel inched closer to SwiftStroke, resting his helm near his
friend's legs. SwiftStroke did not push him away or make any other
such negative motion. Comforted by this fact, the autodog settled
down further, exhaustion finally taking its toll on the young 'bot.
“Good..... goodnight, Swift,”
Barrel yawned, his optics shuttering for good that evening. “T-thank
you, for everything.”
SwiftStroke said nothing, watching
silently as the saint bernard drifted off to recharge. When the
sparkling's intakes had evened out, the fox took the blanket that was
wrapped around him, covering the other's shoulders with it. Then he
lay down beside Barrel, his helm pressed close to the autodog's ear,
and his knees tucked towards to the giant's chin. Before long, even
the smaller mech's intakes softened as he slipped back into sleep
again.
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