swordage: Spock's shirt reads "I'm with illogical" and is pointing at Kirk, who is shirtless. (asst I'm with illogical)
[personal profile] swordage
So I was poking through my personal journal looking for something and I found this ficlet. I have no idea why I never posted it here. I was probably thinking BUT IT'S SO UNPOLISHED HOMG but I have relaxed a bit since then, I hope. XD Anyway, the chatlog leading up to it pretty much says it all:

Lex: You know, just for fun, I want companion!Prowl.
Spacehussy: ooooooooh
Lex: It is, after all, entirely logical that the crew would need stress relief, and interfacing has the benefit of producing closer bonds as well as using up wild energy.
Spacehussy: mmmmmmmmmmmm yes that is in fact quite logical >:3
Lex: And he's just nuts enough that he'd observe to see who needs it and then approach them himself
Spacehussy: mmmmmm okay I like that a lot.
Lex: yessss. It might even take them a while to figure it out - they'd have to suffer through a couple random, head-spinning interfaces first. :3
Spacehussy: POOR DEARS
Lex: hee hee hee

Prowl stretched out, claw-tips to blunt toes, arching in a way carefully calculated to catch the light on the slight split of his chestplates. He found himself lingering in the pose longer than intended - it felt good, unkinking the actuators all through his body.

Red Alert stared, fixated even, on the tiny gap of Prowl's spark chamber. "Prowl," he said slowly, "what are you doing in my berth?"

"I had hoped you'd refrain from obvious questions," Prowl sighed. He tilted his hips slightly, drawing Red Alert's gaze to the uncapped dataports on his hips. "I am certain a bot of your intellect can determine the answer."

"This is... extremely unexpected and possibly a symptom of a personality glitch," Red Alert said shakily. "I will escort you to see Ratchet for a deep scan immediately."

"Later," Prowl murmured, "although I can assure you that I am operating at full efficiency. Come here. I'm running hot."

"Another symptom," Red Alert said, but he went to stand awkwardly before Prowl anyhow. "This is madness. You're not well."

Prowl frowned at him. "Enough. Your objections are noted and are quickly becoming insulting. I need not be unwell to desire you."

Red Alert touched him, finally, a gentle hand on Prowl's knee in apology. "I meant no such thing."

Prowl smiled up at him, unjudging and immediately forgiving. "Will you have me, Red Alert?"

He hesitated only a moment longer, running predictive analyses, before carefully stroking a finger around Prowl's bared secondary dataport. Prowl responded with a cry of pleasure so strong that for a moment Red Alert thought perhaps he was untouched - but then Prowl's cables slithered around Red Alert's wrists to shamelessly guide him to the most intimate places.

"Yes," Prowl gasped, "like this."


The storeroom door hissed open behind Sunstreaker - he didn't even turn to look, recognizing the angular shadow of high-held doors.

"Yeah, I know," he grumbled. "Work harder, Sunstreaker, this is punishment detail not a walk in the park."

"To the contrary," Prowl said serenely. "I was going to suggest a break."

Sunstreaker stopped abruptly, slowly turning to stare at him pointedly. Prowl didn't so much as raise an eyeridge, just offered a small cube. After a long, long moment of suspicion, Sunstreaker accepted it.

"You have bad news," Sunstreaker guessed. "Someone died. I have another punishment detail after this. Sideswipe confessed to the bungee cords."

"There is insufficient evidence for that one," Prowl said. "But no, no news, bad or otherwise. Only that I have come to a conclusion."

"Fantastic," Sunstreaker said, and he downed his cube as quickly as possible. "Have fun telling someone who cares. I've got an inventory to catch up on."

Prowl reached out to take the empty cube, not bothering to make the obvious feint for Sunstreaker's wrist. "My conclusion is that punishing you for misbehavior is not an effective deterrent. Thus, I must use other disciplinary measures."

Sunstreaker took half a step back. He alarm only grew as Prowl stood. "Hey now, I don't think Prime would..."

"Nonsense," Prowl said smoothly. "Prime assisted me in devising the method."

Sunstreaker tried to imagine how that had even happened. "Just tell me this didn't involve you, Prime, and a whip."

Prowl actually laughed. Sunstreaker though he might short out from the shock of it. "No. No whips. Unless you want one." And then Prowl touched him, a bold hand on Sunstreaker's chest just over his spark chamber and the other stroking his flank soothingly. Sunstreaker shivered.


Ironhide stared impassively at Prowl, arms folded across his broad chest. "You're the last person I'd expect to be causing a ruckus, Prowl."

"It's hardly a ruckus," Prowl demurred. "Just a slight change in standard procedure. It's hardly anything to get excited about."

Ironhide looked at him in that peculiarly piercing way he sometimes had, saying nothing for a long moment. Prowl didn't flinch, assurance and confidence pracically radiating from him. Finally, Ironhide let out a graceless snort. "Fine. Just don't expect me to... oh, no you don't."

Prowl shoved Ironhide's gun aside, stepping in too close to aim at. "Don't be absurd. You need this as much as any of us, Ironhide, if not more. Let me help. Please."

Ironhide growled, catching Prowl's waist between his huge hands. Prepared to be shoved aside, Prowl was surprised to find himself pulled closer instead.

"I'm old enough to know a good thing when I see it," Ironhide muttered against his throat. Prowl simply laughed.
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