Work Text:
Vortex perked up as he entered the shared kitchen of the Combaticon base. First, he noticed a savory, pastry-like scent—then he noticed a very focused Swindle. Though the sight of Swindle hyper focused was a rare occurrence he’d usually find amusing (and even more amusing to interrupt), he disliked his presence being neglected.
“What are you making, Short-stack?” He asked as he sidled up to the counter.
Swindle chuffed as he scored the purple dough of his energeon dumpling, effectively sealing the edges.
“Whys it matter to you, Jerkcopter?”
Shrugging onto the counter top, Vortex leaned on his servo, tilting his helm coyly.
“Since when is curiosity such a crime?”
Swindle flattened his lip plates, looking up at Vortex, unamused.
“Whatta’ you want? And hurry it up, I gotta batch cookin up I gotta check on in a klick.”
Okay, rude. If Swindle wanted him to be a menace though, he could certainly deliver—especially if the runt was going to keep rejecting his presence. Vortex shuffled closer, leaning over the jeep. He flashed his visor before letting a servo begin to reach towards the shredded energeon bits in a bowl Swindle had been using for his pastry dumplings.
“I’m just dying of boredom, y’know?”
Swindle smacked the copters servo away from the shredded energeon. “I need enrichment and it’s fun annoying you. Besides, Blasty is off planet and Brawl is getting hammered, I can’t think of a better time for some one on one team building.”
Swindle frowned, attempting to push the copter away; Vortex stood his ground, snickering.
“Not my problem, now get outta here if all you’re gonna do is frag up my pastries.”
Vortex responded by shifting his frame to trap Swindle against the counter. The jeep crossed his arms, glaring. Vortex felt gleeful.
“What? Are you mad? I haven’t even done anything—yet.”
“Your presence is more than enough, Afthead. Now let me out! My scrap is gonna burn.”
Vortex sighed in mock disappointment.
“Where’s the fun in that? If you give me some worthwhile entertainment though…”
Swindle scoffed, pushing on Vortex’s arm.
“I’m serious, Tex, it’s gonna stink like Charr if you don’t let me out. I’m busy this cycle, go be a pain in the aft to someone else.”
Swindle could feel a pang of irritation and hurt zip through the bond like a knife as Vortex backed away. The copter clicked his vocalizer as he threw himself on a nearby seat, arms crossed. Vortex was silent but his surprisingly sensitive feelings were evident through the bond. Swindle never really pegged Vortex to be sensitive about attention, he hadn’t really cared for the past four million years; after everything things had changed. Vortex had changed. Not to any extremes, but he’d become frantic and almost obsessive about the team—especially Swindle. He tried to keep a cool exterior but every now and then his thoughts and feelings fell through into the bond. Maybe he let them fall through.
Vortex remained silent despite his blaring thoughts.
Stop pushing me away, You’re supposed to pay attention to me.
Or something like that. Swindle sighed as he scurried to save his pastries.
“I’m not…avoiding you or anything, stop sulking, I’m just in the middle of this. And I don’t want you messing up the kitchen.”
Swindle awkwardly coughed out as he put a new batch in the oven. He pursed his lip plates as he picked out a fresh, fluffed up dumpling, plating it and stalking over to Vortex. He shoved it to the mech, curiosity overtaking the bond. Vortex perked up, ecstatic to finally get the attention that was rightfully his. Swindle grimaced at Vortex’s thoughts.
“Well, what do you know? The ever greedy shorty can share.”
“Shuddup and eat the damn thing!”
Vortex gleefully unsheathed his mask, fangs ripping into the dough and swallowing half the pastry down.
“Hey! You could at LEAST savor my hard work! Sheesh! So ungrateful.”
But the delight sent through the bond felt like a pat on the back, and the way Vortex hoarfed down the rest, licking his chops after, practically salivating, was more than Swindle needed to know he approved.
“Aren’t you glad I didn’t burn em’ now?”
Vortex licked his denta in response.
“Give me more.”
Swindle huffed, fans heating.
“Make em’ yourself, Afthead. You just wanna suck up my hard work.”
“I think your hard work is making me wanna suck up something else.”
Vortex chuckled, sporting a sly grin as he licked the sauce off his talons.
“Nu-uh, Not today you crazy. Either help me or go away.”
Swindle deflected, blocking out the lewd thoughts of his gestalt mate. How he managed to project images, Swindle had no idea, but he was not going to give in. Giving in meant letting Vortex have his way, and Primus forbid he enable the copters whims. Vortex hummed before sidling back up to Swindle.
“How about…a deal? I’ll help you make your…things, and you help me out after. There’s no loss for you, only profit, and I know you love profit.”
“Will you shut your mouth and start scoring these if I say yes?”
“Well I probably won’t shut up, never have, but I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
“Whatever…if we’re not too tired I guess I could go for a round Scrabble. Don’t fragging cheat and you gotta deal.”
Vortex mulled it over before leaning himself on the counter.
“How does this work, Short-stack?”
He relented, earning a smack to the arm.
“You get a lil’ dough and lay it out, then cut it into squares, then you take a scoop of ground iron and plop it on top. Add some shredded energon and put the top dough sheet on. Put some oil around the edges then stick it together and score it along the edge. I’ll handle nukein it. Got it?”
“Sure thing, Tiny.”
“Would it kill you to call me by my name?”
Vortex leaned over Swindle obnoxiously close to grab some filling.
“Fraid’ so. You call me afthead so I think it’s fair.”
“Cause you are one.”
“And you’re short.”
Swindle shook his helm, scoring his own dumpling. As they continued working, Vortex repeatedly shoved himself into Swindle’s side when reaching for filling, eventually trapping him in again with his arm; this time when there wasn’t an urgently burning batch. Swindle just accepted Vortex would be a nuisance and there was no use picking another fight, Vortex would just find it entertaining. By the time Swindle was on the last dumpling Vortex was running short of his own dough pile. the copter had shifted to Swindle's shoulders, leaning on the table to watch him work. Swindle felt the bond, a surge of amusement and almost…affection? Deep through the link—weird. He turned to glance at Vortex, who was staring unabashedly at him.
“Why you gotta stare like that? Thought you were bored.” Swindle huffed. Vortex shifted to pull Swindle’s helm closer.
“You’re my entertainment right now.”
Swindle shifted uncomfortably at the words. Vortex sounded almost…fond? It was weird. Not what he was used to at all. Had someone replaced his stupid teammate???
“You’re actin weird, Tex. You all there in the head?”
Vortex glowered before moving in closer to Swindle’s face plate.
“Am I ever? You’re the one who calls me crazy.”
“Cause…you are.”
Swindle bit out, baffled by the copter.
Vortex hummed tilting his head as if to further observe Swindle.
“You like crazy then, right, Swindle?”
Swindle’s jaw dropped at the assertion before he suddenly felt a suspicious delight across the bond, very notably NOT Vortex’s. Both him and the copter snapped their helms towards the pastries, Brawl halfway through what looked to be his fifth one.
“WHAT THE PIT?! SPIT IT OUT YOU FRAGGING GARBAGE COMPACTOR!!!”
Brawl turned around, clearly unrepentant. Swindle glared as he heard Vortex start cackling; Brawl was wearing a colorful red sombrero, and had a corona beer in hand—he looked insane.
“The frag is that get up?”
Vortex wheezed out, pointing. Swindle groaned as he brushed off Vortex to take back his pastry.
“It’s a sombrero…!”
Brawl announced as Swindle uselessly kicked the tanks shin.
“Don’t eat our scrap you oversized tin can!”
“Awww but Tex gets to eat some! Not fair!!!”
“Yeah cause he helped me. We worked hard on these!”
Brawl took a swig of his beer before sulking off to the common room. Vortex let his smugness spill through the bond.
“You don’t gotta be so smug. Brawl can feel it ya’know.”
Vortex leaned his hip into the counter before smirking toothily.
“Good, he’ll know I can have what he can’t.”
“Possessive over some pastries? Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe you.”
“At least short also doesn’t.”
“Aft!”
“I win.”
Vortex purred as swindle cussed for the nth time.
“I shoulda brought out Monopoly.”
“Pay up.” Vortex responded, Swindle looking at him incredulously.
“Now?! No fragging way!”
“You lost, loser short bots pay up.”
Swindle scooted over to sit next to Vortex, begrudgingly.
“I thought you meant later…privately!”
“Too bad, now pay me or I’ll extort you. Give me what’s mine.”
Swindle opened up his secret compartment on his side, a pastry hidden from Brawl stashed away. Vortex plucked it out, gleefully.
“There, I hope you’re satisfied. You got your attention and fun…and my snack!”
Swindle sulked, mostly upset he’d been beaten by stupid Vortex.
“Satisfied? Well…there’s still one more thing on my list you haven’t given me.”
Swindle was about to retort when he was suddenly yanked forward, face plates smashed against the copters. It was sudden and furious like Vortex anything usually was, and it was over before it had really even started. He was pushed away dizzily, processor spinning. And all he could make out from the sudden kiss was the link.
You’re still mine.
“There. Now I’m satisfied.”
Brawl watched his teammates backsides, closely leaning into each other. He took a sip of his corona, pastry in hand.
“Man! They never let me join them.”