Look, you loved Swerve as much as the next person. But even after spending vorn after vorn with the smaller bot, it wasn’t any easier to listen to his non-stop yammering.

And you really did love him, no doubt about it. The day the two of you complited the conjux rites you were ecstatic. Running along the halls of the Lost Light to tell any innocent unassuming bot the good news— which did end up with you getting in trouble with Magnus— but still!

Even right now, listening to him talk your audials off about whatever nonsensical topic, he never lost his charm. Not that it wasn’t as tiring as the pit.

Primus save you, if only there was a way to shut him up every once and awhile. Nodding subconciously as a devious plan unfolded in the deepest corners of your mischevious processor.

”Swerve, sweetspark, my light in the darkness, my—”

Before you could continue with the nicknames, Swerve sputtered as he slapped a servo over your mouth. Face flushed every so slightly— hurriedly pulling said servo off as he felt a lick of wetness trail along his palm.

”Did you just lick me? What is wrong with you.” The bartender huffed playfully, filling the empty bar with some noise.

”Well you weren’t complaining the night before.”

That one sent him into a mess, stalling as he tried to come up with a clever quip— spoiler alert, he couldn’t