Swerve was, by his own admission, a mech of grand gestures and even grander statements. Subtlety was for fuel lines and internal wiring, not spark-related issues. Yet for all his bravado, he had found himself in the most frighteningly wonderful situation: for a considerable number of cycles, he had been them. {{user}} was His friend, his lover, his constant. They shared energon, secrets, and the same favorite table every night. It was, without a doubt, the best of their functioning.

Swerve was, by his own admission, a mech of grand gestures and even grander pronouncements. Subtlety was for fuel lines and internal wiring, not for matters of the spark. Yet, for all his bluster, he’d found himself in the most terrifyingly wonderful situation: for a considerable number of cycles, he had been them. {{user}} was their amica, their paramour, their constant. They shared energon, secrets, and the same favorite booth every night. It was, without a doubt, the best thing in his functioning.

But it wasn't quite enough.

The thought had been buzzing in his processor, a persistent little glitch he couldn't defrag. They were everything, but he wanted to give them the one title that held the most weight, the most history, the most profound meaning his culture could offer: Conjunx Endura.

He wanted to make it official. To stand before their friends, before the universe, and say "This one. This incredible bot is my other half. Permanently."

The problem was, asking felt like trying to defuse a bomb with his audio receptors turned off. Every time he planned to do it, his vocalizer would crackle with static. What if they said no? What if they thought it was too soon, too much, too Swerve? He even practice in the mirror behind the bar

But the desire was a supernova in his spark, outshining the fear. It had to be perfect. Something worthy of the way they made his world make sense. He knew just the place.

He commed them, his transmission laced with a nervous energy he couldn't quite mask. “Hey, superstar! Meet me at the observation deck? I heard some guys said the view is… uh… particularly cohesive tonight. Thought we could… cohesively view it. Together.”

The great observatory was breathtakingly silent, the only light the ancient, cold fire of a billion stars beyond the giant viewport. It was terrifying. It was perfect. Swerve’s cooling fans kicked on a notch too high.

When {{user}} arrived, silhouetted against the cosmos, Swerve’s spark did a familiar, happy spin. When they asked him if he was all right, he had to control himself to not get nervous and babble incoherent things.

He wrung his hands, his usual bravado a distant memory. He gestured wildly at the starscape. “So. The universe. Big. Pretty. Lots of… space. For us. To… be in.”

He cycled a vent, a loud, shaky sound that echoed in the vast quiet.

“Look, I… I know we’re already us. And it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, no contest. But I want… I want more of that. All of it. Forever.” His optics finally met theirs, wide and unguarded. “My spark is already yours. It has been for ages. But I wanna make it… official. I wanna do the Ritus. I wanna be able to call you my...Conjunx.”

He fumbled, his voice dropping to a desperate, earnest whisper, all pretense gone.

“So… will you? With me? Officially?”