swerve/thunderclash where thunders just makes swerve a m e s s with praise and stuff because we all know swerve would die from that 👀 also size difference, if you may
You are absolutely right. Here’s the boy getting some good lovin’.
Additional content: fingering, strength kink (is that a thing? im making it a thing)
It’s late in the night cycle and everyone’s left, well, not everyone but mostly everyone. Swerve would never be able to ignore the mech that’s currently helping him put away the kegs of engex. Thunderclash carries the kegs around like they barely weigh anything at all, putting them in neat stacks with so much ease and speed that Swerve barely has to lift a finger. When Thunderclash had offered to help him, he had been stuck between not wanting to burden him with such a menial task and wanting nothing more to have a few hours all to himself with The Greatest Autobot of all time. In the end, when he couldn’t get anything through his nervous stuttering, Thunderclash had just flashed that winning smile of his and said he’d be around after hours and if he didn’t want him around Swerve could just say so then. Then, of course, posed the problem of not being able or wanting to send the wonderful mech away which left him with the wonderfully torturous situation of watching Thunderclash flaunt his strength while he just sat back and relaxed.
When all the kegs are put away, Swerve looks around helplessly, looking for something to say while trying to pass it off as looking for anything else that needs to get done but, of course, there’s nothing. Swerve stills when he feels Thunderclash approach and looks up to find Thuunderclash smiling sweetly as ever in that way that makes the sparks of everyone in the room do a backflip. He tries to say something but it comes out in a jumble of half-thoughts and incomplete sentences that devolves into a bunch of stuttering to his great dismay. Thunderclash saves him from trying to come up with something by putting a consoling hand on his shoulder.
“May I walk you to your room?” Thunderclash asks sweetly, optics crinkling with his smile.
Swerve gapes up at him for a moment then breaks out into a goofy, nervous grin, “Uh, yeah, I’d like that.”
Just walking down the hall with Thunderclash is just so nice and Swerve just can’t believe it. Without any task to focus on, all of Thunderclash’s attention is on the smaller mech as they chat idly about the going on's of the day and he listens patiently while Swerve rambles on about his day and all the trouble his patrons had gotten themselves into. Swerve’s spark leaps when Thunderclash’s laughs low and loud when he tells him about what Skids had done after trying a mix that was just a bit too strong. It’s so nice and Swerve just doesn’t want it to end but his room comes up and he turns to say goodbye but pauses at the hesitant look on Thunderclash’s face.
“Is something wrong?” Swerve asks, fiddling with his hands nervously as rampant thoughts flood his processor.
“Oh!” Thunderclash puts up his hands, “No, I was just… It’s just rude to invite yourself into someone else’s quarters but I was hoping that I might…”
Swerve’s optics flash in surprise and he turns away to face his door, possibilities tumbling one after another in his mind. Biting his lip, he opens his door and over his shoulder says:
“Want to come in?”
Thunderclash grins and follows happily after Swerve who sits on his berth and pats the spot next to him to invite Thunderclash to sit next to him. He does so, leaning back on his hands and he’s close enough Swerve that he can feel the faint heat from his frame and hear the soft whirring of inner mechanisms. While trying to keep his spark calm, he swallows roughly and turns to Thunderclash but he doesn’t manage to get anything out before Thunderclash is leaning towards. Thunderclash is propped on one hand placed behind Swerve while bending halfway over him, a shy smile on his lips.
“I was wondering…” Thunderclash begins but trails off, an embarrassed flush painting his faceplate as his optics dart away from Swerve’s, “It’s just, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Been thinking about you, in general, more often as of late, actually.”
“You’ve been thinking about me?” Swerve tenses in surprise, his hands coming up helplessly, “Why?”
Thunderclash’s optics flick back to Swerve as his mouth slackens in confusion then closes his optics with another shy grin. He puts a gentle hand under Swerve’s chin to lift his face up to look at him as he leans in closer, a soft glow lighting up Thunderclash’s optics.
“You have to know how absolutely attractive you are,” Thunderclash hums as he brushes his thumb over Swerve’s cheek making color rise to his faceplate, “It’s clear as day.”
“I, uh, what?” Swerve exclaims with a bit of a self-deprecating laugh, “Me?”
“Yes,” Thunderclash says with a hushed tone, frowning with something akin to concern, “Of course.”
“I…” Swerve tries then huffs a low laugh and pulls Thunderclash’s hand gently from his face, “Thanks but… So, what is it that you wanted to come in for?”
Confidence renewed, Thunderclash closes his hand around Swerve’s and leans in fully so that their noses are brushing which catches Swerve off guard and makes him gasp.
“I was hoping you’d let me show you my appreciation,” Thunderclash practically purrs, sending low vibrations through Swerve’s chest making him gasp again.
Swerve stares up at Thunderclash and without really thinking he nods and then all at once Thunderclash is upon him. He pushes his lips against Swerve’s and pushes him back with his sheer mass alone as he trails his hand down Swerve’s shoulder to his chassis then his hip. While rubbing circles into Swerve’s hip idly, Thunderclash kisses his cheek then his neck cables before making his way down Swerve’s chassis, planting slow, indulgent kisses along seams and sensitive plating. Swerve bites his hand at the attention, his frame slowly becoming hot under Thunderclash’s touch. He pulls up a leg and puts it over Thunderclash’s shoulder in a wave a need and before Swerve can feel embarrassed about it, Thunderclash catches his raised thigh in one hand and plants a long kiss on it. Thunderclash’s dim optics draw down slowly to meet Swerve’s gaze as he continues to kiss his thigh before opening his mouth wantonly, venting heavily then closes his optics as he presses his face to Swerve’s thigh, nuzzling it. His glossa flicks out over the plating in a slow lick that he cuts off with a quick kiss.
“Perfect,” Thunderclash vents outs, making Swerve’s breath hitch in his intake.
Thunderclash moves to loom over Swerve and meets Swerve’s shy smile with softly glowing optics that burn into him, conveying wordlessly how much he enjoys having Swerve beneath him now. He closes in to press a kiss to Swerve’s neck cables, humming appreciatively at the sound that he makes.
“You blush so beautifully,” Thunderclash punctuates his word with another kiss, this one needier with neck cables caught between his lips, “It lights up every part of you and makes your optics shine all the more brightly.”
Swerve makes a noise as if he’s about to protest while but whatever he was about to say dies in his intake as Thunderclash begins nipping and sucking on his neck cables. He brings a hand to Thunderclash’s helm who takes that as encouragement and bites down softly and Swerve gasps at the feeling of denta pushing into his neck cables that make him tense with charge crackling down his sensor net. Feeling dizzy and hot, he tries to make sense of what’s happening but his processor only comes back with reports of how good it feels to have Thunderclash play with his seams and kiss his neck. Thunderclash moves away from his neck and backs down his chassis, his optics flicking up to look at Swerve’s face as he licks over a seam while cupping his shoulder with one hand and his hip in the other.
“Such a lovely frame,” Thunderclash whispers, his vents tickling Swerve’s plating, “So thick and wonderful to hold. Perfect.”
Swerve cups Thunderclash’s helm, drawing his full attention to himself while venting heavily.
“Could you…” Swerve gulps to overcome his nerves, “Could you maybe put more attention… put more attention to my panels?”
Thunderclash smiles sweetly at him as though he’d just told him the best thing in the world and wastes no time licking over his panel. Swerve would be mortified with how quickly his panels transform away to reveal his array if it weren’t for how eagerly Thunderclash takes Swerve’s spike in his mouth. He hums, dragging his mouth slowly up its length then kisses the head when it slides free from his mouth. Thunderclash comes back up to prop himself on one hand while he moves his other to Swerve’s valve, rubbing over his node. Swerve grips Thunderclash’s forearms as he’s worked by his thick fingers, his gaze going distant in the haze of pleasure. His hold tightens when Thunderclash begins working a digit inside of him, lighting up nodes and bringing his attention back to the mech above him. Smoldering optics watch him intently and flare at every sound or expression he makes that in turn cause little curls of pleasure to come up in the base of his chest and he’s not sure what to do with so much attention but he doesn’t want it going anywhere anytime soon.
“You’re so soft and warm,” Thunderclash says above him, “I want to feel every part of you, the frame that fits so nicely in my hands. The sounds you’re making now are so soft and lovely, I want to hear you on the very edge. I want to see you come undone under me, breathless and beautiful.”
Swerve moans when Thunderclash adds another finger, surprised by how stretched he’s already becoming but the touch only makes him eager for more. Nodes light up under Thunderclash’s careful touch that creates shocks of pleasure that course up his spinal strut making him push his hips up into the touch.
“Thunderclash,” Swerve cries out in a moan as Thunderclash’s fingers delve deeper into him.
Thunderclash moans above him, falling to rest on his forearm and vents out, “Say my name like that again.”
It’s an easy request when he adds another finger, stretching Swerve even further in wonderful aching pleasure. Thunderclash continues to watch him with his attention never falling from Swerve’s face. Swerve turns his head aside bashfully only to have Thunderclash kiss his cheek affectionately then nuzzle his face as he works those large digits of his in Swerve. When overload comes over Swerve suddenly, Thunderclash captures his cries in a kiss while working him through his overload then drags them out to let Swerve come down somewhat. Still panting hard, Swerve looks down at the sound of panels transforming away and what he sees makes his optic widen. Thunderclash’s spike rests against Swerve’s pelvic plating, dwarfing his own and something about that makes his mouth go wet and he can feel charge building in his valve again just at the sight of it. He reaches over and wraps one hand around it, his hand not fitting around it completely and just that one touch has Thunderclash moaning over him and thrusting lightly into his hand. With a slight adjustment in position, Swerve brings the tip of Thunderclash’s spike to his valve and gasps when he accidentally brushes it over his node and moans at the feeling of the large spike pressing against his folds, wet with lubricant from his overload.
Thunderclash takes ahold of Swerve’s hips and begins pushing in slowly, making Swerve throw his head back with his mouth stretched wide at the feeling of his valve being filled so thoroughly. The process is slow and careful, Thunderclash watching for even the slightest sign of discomfort. If Swerve could become coherent enough to say something he’d tell him he was going too slow, Thunderclash’s thumbs soothing his hips and his large spike sending current after current of charge through him and making him writhe on the spike. Every twitch of his hips makes Thunderclash hiss out a vent or let a low groan but it doesn’t deter his careful movements or make him go any faster. Once he’s finally all the way in, to the hilt, Thunderclash pauses to catch his breath and Swerve trails a hand over his lower chassis, feeling the slight raise in his plating from where the spike is stretching him.
“Look at you,” Thunderclash breaths, “Stuffed full of my spike. You took it so well and you feel so good. I can’t get enough of you. You’re better than I could have ever imagined... than I’ve ever dreamed. You’re gorgeous like this: panting, hot, and fit to burst.”
Swerve moans and reaches out for Thunderclash who obliges and gets pulled into a heated kiss. He jumps a little as Thunderclash lifts him up and off the berth, his spike still deep in Swerve’s valve and begins moving Swerve along his spike, his pace slow and steady. There’s nothing for Swerve to do other than hold on while Thunderclash works him on his spike. As their pace begins to speed up, Thunderclash wraps one arm around Swerve’s back and cups his face in one hand while he continues to push up into Swerve’s valve. Swerve gets pulled into another kiss while the spike in him slams into his ceiling node, making him gasp and moan into Thunderclash’s mouth, the display of sheer strength on the larger mech’s part becoming absolutely intoxicating. He’s never been handled so easily like he weighs nothing at all and that, along with the spike that’s stretching his valve to its limit, only heightens the charge building low within him. With another thrust that lights up Swerve’s array and a harsh bite to his neck, Swerve is overloading over Thunderclash’s spike, dripping lubricant along its length. Thunderclash gasps harshly at the sudden tightness that drags him over the edge as well and spilling hot transfluid into Swerve’s valve that makes the smaller mech feel even fuller.
The air seems still around them as they come down, the sound of their panting being the only thing to break the quiet. Thunderclash rests his helm against Swerve’s, looking at him like he’s found the most beautiful thing in the universe. Swerve sucks in a vent as he feels Thunderclash’s spike slide free, never breaking eye contact and riding the high of being the sole object of Thunderclash’s attention. Swerve sucks in a vent and lets himself fall heavily into Thnderclash’s arms, no longer supporting himself on Thunderclash’s shoulders.
“Stay the night?” Swerve asks tentatively, still worried the larger mech might decide to leave.
Thunderclash smiles and turns his head into the crook of Swerve’s neck, kissing where his helm meets his neck and whispers desperately, “Please.”
some swerve/thunderclash content i posted on my q account despite not being able to write either of these characters:
just big dorky "great autobot of all time" staring lovingly at swerve across the bar top
swerve: and this drink is called the blue comet
thunderclash, who literally knows nothing about alcohol and can't tell any of them apart but who is also in love: superb, you funky little minibot
swerve: not to be rude, clash, but you're kind of tacky
thunderclash: yes, it would appear so
swerve: i hate to admit i like it but
thunderclash, practically vibrating, heart in the right place: i'm gonna be so fucking tacky for you
swerve: oh my god
thunderclash offers to man the bar so swerve can chatter and he just gets distracted bc he likes swerve's voice and he's a gay fool
thunderclash: and that's how i defeated the decepticons trying to takeover my ship
swerve, smitten and impressed: one time i chugged an entire keg of high-grade
thunderclash: you're perfect
thunderclash, surrounded by cooler and infinitely more accomplished autobots than swerve:
thunderclash, seeing swerve: i want that one
swerveclash but thunderclash takes in mind just how much swerve likes earth media so he watches as many romcoms and reads as many romance novels as he can and tries to woo swerve with something extravagant like roses (when it fails he tries something simple and meaningful like the magnet scene in holding up the universe)
