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“Well, the good news is it’s just a heat cycle. Bad news is, the suppressants are expired.”
“Expired!?”
“Expired,” Ratchet confirmed, crossing his arms. “And you are not using corrupted code on my watch. So it’s either find-a-friend, or self-servicing. And I am not an option.”
That was last night. When he woke in the morning, his whole frame felt jittery. There was the brief consideration of asking for the morning off, but… That would mean coming up with an excuse— a believable one.
That might be pushing it.
With a sigh and a prayer, he hopped off the berth. Maybe it won't get worse than this. It's the first one in a while, anyways! Those are usually pretty tame, right?
Who knew tame could be so irritating?
The scout had been relieved when his assignment was a supply run. There had been an incessant itch running through his frame since he'd left his room, and it was starting to drive him crazy. A drive on the freeway, a dip in the lake– That should make this better, right?
“You’ll be helping Prowl gather energon for Bulkhead and Ratchet to bring back to the plant after their patrol.” Optimus wasn’t looking at him, instead focused on his holopad schedule. “Our patrol should only take a megacycle, so try to have as much ready to go by then, okay? I’m trusting Prowl to keep you on track. You two can work quite well together when you try."
Is there any other bot that cares this much about team-bonding?
“Yeah, yeah, we saved the plant, I know.” He ignored the Prime’s eyeroll. “Doesn’t mean we have to be attached at the hip now.” A megacycle alone with the grouchiest bot on the planet? He’ll end up blowing a fuse like he did over the TV!
“It’s not about that, Bumblebee. It’s about—“
“Cogs and all that, I know,” the scout muttered, turning his helm to the doorway. He could see Prowl waiting outside, pede tapping impatiently. “Look, he’s already ticked off!”
Optimus sighed.
“Just try, Bumblebee. We’re here for the foreseeable future, so let’s make the best of it.”
“Fine. But it’s gonna be your fault when my head gets chopped off!” He looks like he wants to take me offline already, for Spark’s sake! The intensity of the glare made him feel warm. Why did it make him feel warm? Just get it over with! The sooner we’re done, the better. He huffed, shook his helm, and headed out.
“Are you finally ready?”
We're off to such a great start. Hear that, Boss-bot?
“I didn’t ask you to wait,” Bumblebee retorted. He transformed as Prowl scoffed and did the same, tearing out of the parking lot while ignoring the stop sign on the corner.
.:Do you have any regard for public safety?:.
.:Weren’t you just complaining about me taking too long?:.
.:I obviously did not mean for you to break basic Earth laws.:.
.:Too bad you didn’t say that.:
And with that, Bumblebee picked up speed as he approached the onramp. He could hear Prowl’s engine revving close behind and, much to his dismay, he felt another wave of warmth.
Absolutely not! I am not letting that happen!
But it was already happening.
In their vapid silence, he was trying and utterly failing to put his mind elsewhere. He wanted to enjoy the breeze on his frame, to hear the road beneath his tires, and to not feel the static that occupied the short distance of their shared lane. I seriously hope he can’t feel that. On the not-so-off chance the cyberninja could, the minibot sped up once more.
.:You're pushing it, Bumblebee.:.
Slag. The firm tone of his designation certainly did not help his already active imagination. It actually fit quite perfectly with the scene playing in his processor. One where too much teasing got him pinned to the wall, the floor, the berth— No! Just quit getting on his nerves and then he’ll have nothing to talk about! Begrudgingly, he decided to slow down. Blame the static on the first long drive in a while. Yeah. That was believable.
.:That's much better. See how well you can listen? I’m almost impressed.:.
Unfortunately for the scout, he had failed to consider the consequence of doing as he was told: getting praise. He was also ill-prepared for the almost painful shiver it left in his spark, even if it was a little back-handed. So much for a "tame heat cycle". Whatever. At least at the ship, he'd be able to seal himself off in his old quarters and tie himself over long enough to focus on the task at hand.
Hopefully I can come up with better subject material by then.
He hadn’t.
Prowl took the lead as they drove off the boat ramp, and the scout felt a twinge of relief. At least now he could worry less about the occasional quiver in his frame. They had grown more frequent, and his thoughts had only gotten worse.
He kept replaying the scene from the other day when Prowl had pinned him to the floor. The distance was nonexistent, the weight that bore down on his chassis was carefully placed, and of course, those black and tan stabilizers fixed between his yellow ones…
Get to the ship. Get to your room. Get off. Get energon cubes. That’s all you have to do.
The scout repeated this to himself as the vessel came into view, speeding up without a second thought and—
.:Are you malfunctioning?:.
.:What? I’m perfectly fine!:. Does he know..?
.:You’re simmering.:.
Unfortunately, Prowl was right. All along his frame and hood were tiny bubbles, fizzing and floating towards the surface. That’s not super explainable.
.:Just… Looking forward to getting back on the ship! It’s a little weird living outside it for… So long…!:.
.:It’s hardly been a deca-cycle.:.
.:Homesickness happens faster on alien planets, obviously! You wouldn’t get it ‘cause you’re just so happy with your Earth creatures.:.
.:Oh of course, obviously.:. And despite the motorcycle’s voice dripping with sarcasm, Bumblebee was just relieved the questioning had ended. Although… A significant part of him wished it had waited just a minute longer. If we were in robot mode on the ship… Well, Prowl sure seemed to like pinning him the other day. Who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again?
And then he can frag the living daylights out of you.
He slammed on his brakes instantly, tires locking up in a silent squeal.
.:Watch what you’re doing, you complete—!:. Prowl cut himself off as he attempted to halt on the thick, clay-like sand, transforming into robot mode when he started to lose traction.
Until now, Bumblebee had been deliberately cutting off his imagined scenarios before they crossed that line. Now that they had, his fortitude really began to crumble.
Just like you would with your servos pinned over your helm.
“What were you thinking!? Is your processor made entirely of scrap metal?” Prowl rounded on him, and the minibot transformed with his servos up in defense.
He’d trace down your side.
“I hit a rock!”
Going lower…
“You didn’t hit anything! There’s nothing here!” The cyberninja flung his arm down towards the murky lakebed, showing nothing but tiny shells and bits of seaweed.
Tracing your panels.
“The… green stuff got stuck in one of my tires..?”
The click of— Nope. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t think about it anymore, or else he was going to lose what little dignity he had left.
Thankfully, instead of continuing the argument, Prowl had decided to just push past him. He gave the minibot the slightest shove out of his way, and the contact resulted in a powerful shock being delivered to both. For Bumblebee, it brought on a mess of feelings. For Prowl, it didn’t seem nearly as conflicting. There’s that killer stare again.
“Can I even expect you to do your job today?”
“Of course you can! Plus, we can grab some of our stuff—“
“All of my belongings were blown up, remember?”
“Ah! Right, right…” Bumblebee trailed off, finding it difficult to meet the cyberninja’s gaze. As a result, he became rather fixated on those pointed, gold-trimmed pedes and the tires that were above them.
Would feel so good burning out on your panels. He’d probably love seeing you on your knees for that. Maybe even praise you again. For real this time.You’d like that, wouldn’t you?
“Are you even listening to me? You have got to be one of the most self absorbed—“ He should be saying this with his spike down your—
“—Can we just get on the ship? I would really, really rather have this conversation there.” Bumblebee crossed his arms tightly, tucking his helm down and walking towards the entry point.
Prowl visibly considered a response, resigned himself with a sigh, followed, and pressed the button to access the airlock when they arrived. Mercifully, it seemed like the confrontation was over with, and Bumblebee kept ahead at a slight distance. When he took a turn towards the cabin hall however, he was yanked back by the arm. Yowch! There was another shock upon contact, but it went seemingly unnoticed by Prowl.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Feel how tight he’s holding onto you? It’ll probably leave dents, maybe even paint transfers.
“I—!“ Say something! “I just..! Gotta go get some things from my room! I even told you I was homesick earlier! It’ll only be a few minutes, I swear. That’s why I mentioned getting things—” He could see his cohort’s doubt quite plainly. The scrunched-up faceplate and narrowed visor were more than enough evidence. Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it. Please—
“…You have seven cycles, or I will report to Prime about your slacking. Do you understand?”
“Got it. Seven cycles. Won’t disappoint ya.“
“I know you won’t, because I’m coming with you.”
Bumblebee’s jaw hung open for a moment, feeling somewhere between stunned and floored. This has to be a joke!
“You know what, fine. But you’re waiting outside. I don’t need you messing with my stuff.”
The scout whirled around when Prowl let him go, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. Who cares at this point? He’d have to be an idiot not to know. Maybe that’s why he’s been shutting up instead of arguing.
As they neared the door, he began to feel a nervous, jumpy fluttering in his spark. If he knows, then why is he coming with..? He forced the concept as far down as he could, which was not very far, punched in his pin at the keypad, and stepped inside.
“Seven cycles,” Prowl reminded him, leaning against the wall across the hallway. “I’ll be here if you want help.”
Help? He couldn’t mean—? The door clicked closed behind him. Blah! Heat code is playing with me. There’s no way he meant that.
Nevertheless, as he leaned back against the cool metal wall on the far side of his dorm and slid to the floor, he couldn’t stop wondering: …But what if he did..?
The sound of his panels opening wasn’t loud, but the cabins were far from soundproof. You cannot be noisy. No matter what. Remember how many times Bulkhead had to knock on the wall? Yeah. He covered his mouth preemptively.
The minibot relaxed as he let his stabilizers fall to the side, optics offline, and a servo creep down his frame. Any other time, he’d jump straight into things and be done with it just as quickly.
But Prowl wouldn’t do that.
Prowl would touch him everywhere except where he wanted it most. Prowl would pin his servos above his head and push a knee between his. Prowl would exhale into his neck and bite hard, all while teasing the ever-living Pit out of his port with that shiver-inducing touch. And when you’re wet enough, he can do whatever he wants with you. Frag your intake, your valve—
A whine seeped out of his vocals, hitching when he pushed a pair of digits into himself. In his mind, it was Prowl’s spike, pressing its way deeper and deeper into his core. With a rough shove of his servo, the scout hit against his callipers and let out a loud, gasping cry. His frame, both in temperature and motion, froze instantly.
One klik. Two kliks. Three—
.:Bumblebee? Are you alright?:.
The softness made him dizzy, and he pictured it coming from the Prowl in his processor. That Prowl was hilted inside of him, one arm stabilizing his posture over the scout, and the other holding his hip plate. Don’t forget to answer.
.:I-I’m fine, just… dropped something… on my… pede…:. And don’t moan on your fragging commlink!
He pulled his servo back, struggling to have any real embarrassment over how much transfluid there was. Wiping the excess off on the floor next to him, he began to accept that this wasn’t something he could manage on his own. There was a deep ache in his frame, and a strong need for something external.
.:…Prowl?:.
.:Yes?:. He felt another shiver creep up his backstruts. Keep it together!
.:When you… When you’re saying you’ll help, do you… Do you mean—?:.
.:Bumblebee, do you honestly think that I can’t recognize a heat cycle?:.
Oh. So he had meant it like that, actually.
He means it now too, you dolt! Get up and open the fragging door!
But just as he was ready to push off the floor to stand, he heard the beeping of the keypad, followed by the opening of the door. Had he not been so desperate for physical touch, he probably would have been mortified at being walked in on. But right now, with his knees spread apart and valve and spike dripping, he couldn’t have cared any less. Especially when he watched Prowl’s visor move up and down his frame like it was the first of its kind. That wasn’t wanting to take me offline earlier, was it?
Bumblebee returned the gaze as the cyberninja approached him, venting heavily and spreading his pedes further. His spark raced with how quickly Prowl understood; the cyberninja lowering himself onto one knee and resting his arm on the other. His free servo moved up one of the scout’s stabilizers, stopping and squeezing at his thigh guards. The contact made his hips twitch, and his helm fell back against the wall as he let out a low, soft moan. Prowl kept the servo on his sensitive plating and leaned closer to cup Bumblebee’s helm with the other. A digit brushed softly across his cheek to below his lip and pulled down, realigning their darkened optics. I can’t take this anymore.
In a hasty, sloppy motion, Bumblebee pulled Prowl against him, servo clasping the back of the motorcycle’s helm as if it were his lifeline. Simultaneously, he gripped his wrist and redirected it away from his thigh guard to his needy valve. The kiss broke with a shaky gasp as two golden digits rubbed along his port, optics shutting tight in anticipation.
When Prowl eased into him, a long, languid moan of relief echoed through the room, and it did not stop until the cyberninja’s palm was flush to his array. The sensation was accompanied by a furious rush of fluttering in Bumblebee’s spark chamber, and he couldn’t repress the shudder in his frame.
It felt so good, so right. Sure, he knew part of that was the heat cycle protocols, but… There was a reason it had gotten so much worse around the cyberninja. And it’s not gonna get any better ‘til he frags you. His grip on his companion’s wrist tightened, leaving streaks of yellow on the black paint from the friction. He only let go when Prowl nodded before nuzzling into his neck cables.
The pulling out was slow, almost agonizingly so. But the rough, deep thrust back in made it worth it. The motion repeated over and over, earning a sharp breath from the minibot each time he was filled. It was clear Prowl wasn’t a stranger to this and, more than that, he seemed to be actively enjoying it. Bumblebee even felt a tickle in his frame when he heard Prowl sigh because, unlike most of them, this one wasn’t from annoyance.
It was from satisfaction.
The pace changed as the scout felt his callipers constrict, and he realized with a mix of fear and curiosity that Prowl was slowing down.
“Hnnf— wh-what are you—?”
“Do you want to be able to make it through your job and back to the plant without your protocols kicking in again?” The movement of Prowl’s servo had stopped, but his digits were curling upwards slowly. “Because if you overload right away, that’s not going to happen.”
“I-I would not mind… Protocols kicking in again if you wouldn’t,” Bumblebee replied, taking the pause to cool down his overheated frame. “I’m having a pretty— pretty good time.” He felt Prowl chuckle against his collar, causing a whole slew of flickering charges to run through his spark.
“I meant in regard to when the others show up.” The motorcycle pulled his body and servo back, leaving just the ends of his digits in the scout. He admired the transfluid that dripped for a moment, and smiled when Bumblebee’s faceplate grew redder. “But I agree,” he said, tone almost velvet. “I wouldn’t mind some sort of arrangement.” He pressed his thumb against the minibot’s anterior node, rubbing with a feather-light touch. “It might even help keep you in line. You seem to like being rewarded.”
And with that, Prowl thrust back into him. Hard.
“Oh FRAG—!” Bumblebee’s frame seized against the wall, servos wrapping tightly around Prowl’s back and digging into his paint. He could feel the intensity his callipers clamped down with as the motion was repeated, each just as rough as the last. “Pr-Prowl, I—ohHHhh slag—“ The scout heard Prowl’s cooling fans kick on, and it triggered that deep need from earlier.
He braced his pedes on the floor, pushing himself forward into Prowl’s lap. His servos squeezed at the cyberninja’s shoulders, urging him to lie down. He felt a shiver through his frame as Prowl obliged, both of his servos becoming fixed on the scout’s hips. The minibot’s valve was absolutely soaked, trails of transfluid running down the inside of his thigh guards. Slowly, he pressed down against Prowl’s panels.
“Bumblebee…”
“Yeah?” The scout felt a sharp sting as the hold on his hips tightened, clawing into the metal. I need him to do that all over me. Frag. We’re so screwed when Ratchet gets here. But that was at least half a megacycle away, and right now, all he cared about was getting—
Click.
—spiked.
“Took you long enough,” Bumblebee huffed, engine revving with frustration as Prowl kept his hips above what he had been waiting all Spark-damned day for. “What do I have to do?”
“More of that.”
“What?”
“More of that,” the larger mech repeated, sitting up into a kneel while pushing the scout onto his back. Bumblebee’s stabilizers were raised in the air, thighs clutching tight around Prowl’s waist for balance. Once they were fixed in place, the servos that had clawed his sides ran along his chassis to his shoulders, arms, and finally to his wrists, pinning them to the floor above his helm. Wow. Twister’s really paying off. “Like I said earlier,” Prowl mused, rocking his hips back and forth just a tad. “I think you respond well to being rewarded. So, give me something to reward you for.”
To say Bumblebee was “worked up” would be an understatement. His frame was burning, his faceplate had heated up to a bright red, and his engine was rumbling steadily. Each time Prowl’s spike rubbed his valve, it also grazed ever so softly against his anterior node.
“Frag, Prowl—” he pressed back against the servos holding him down, hips shifting messily and desperately. Don’t get embarrassed now! Give him what he wants! He struggled through a strained whimper. Tell him what you want. “I want…“
“Mhm?”
Spit it out already!
“I want you— I-I want you to frag me—“ And? “—and keep fragging me until y— HhooohHH..!”
The heat that sank into him felt like pure bliss, and the resulting moan was loud and lewd. He was immensely grateful that they were alone in a ship underwater, a sentiment he imagined Prowl probably shared.
The pair vented in heavy unison as the cyberninja went deeper, grinding down when he couldn’t go further.
“Nngf…” There were many small sounds and gasps that Bumblebee chose not to hold back. Who cared if he sounded pathetic? Prowl clearly liked it when he was noisy, and he sure as Pit wasn’t trying to discourage him. He even felt the grip on his wrists falter following a particularly salacious whine. Now that’s a compliment. “W-worth your while?”
“…I’m certainly not…” Prowl paused for a breath. “…complaining by any means… I’m… pleased you took the hint.” The little grunts and groans from him made Bumblebee’s processor all the more fuzzy, and he hardly processed when one servo freed his wrist and took to tracing the scratches on his hip. He did notice when it moved to stroke his sensitive, transfluid-covered spike.
“O-oh frag—“ The touch triggered his callipers to tighten along the length inside of him, heightening the pressure. His free servo traced up Prowl’s windshield, and he folded his digits over the top edge. Kinda fragile. Maybe I shouldn’t— Oohhhfrag that feels so good…
It became hard for him to think as his systems focused on pleasure. More specifically, they focused on how he could get the most of it.
His hips were rolling methodically, timed to meet every little push in from his companion. To maintain his angle and balance, the servo pumping Bumblebee’s spike shifted back to his surface-damaged waist. Then, he pulled back and pushed in.
“Mmnf… Prowl—“
With each stroke, Bumblebee would let out a noisy yelp or whimper. Any effort on his end at retaining a shred of pride had long been exhausted. Still, he really hoped that the security cameras in the hall didn’t record audio.
As the pressure continued to mount, their precarious balancing act became less feasible. It’s gonna be such a vibe killer if I fall. In an effort to keep himself from slipping, he clutched just a little tighter onto the thick pane of the windshield—
CrrRRRACK!
Bumblebee retracted his servo immediately, whereas Prowl seemed relatively inconvenienced, failing to wince as the glass fractured. He did, however, take it as a sign to slow down. He carefully eased the minibot’s legs nearer to the floor, using both servos to support the smaller frame.
“I— s-sorry,” Bumblebee puffed, hips slumping to the ground as Prowl pulled out of him. He cycled a few breaths as his partner sat back, trying to ignore how damn sore his stabilizers were. It’d be easier to ignore if you weren’t into it.
“Bound to happen with… All of that,” Prowl responded, servos holding the scout’s knees apart to admire the damage he’d left behind. Bumblebee pushed himself up, leaning on his elbows.
It was now that he could see how many black and tan lines had been scuffed into his bright yellow paint, not to mention all the dents and scratches. Slag, those are deep… The view of his own damage, alongside a heated stare up and down of Prowl’s, made the heat protocols kick back in full force. The little relief he had been granted from being spiked vanished in an instant, and the air became thicker.
Once more, the scout found himself in Prowl's lap, pushing him to the floor slowly. He liked the fuzzy static between their frames and the way the larger mech obeyed his silent commands. He liked the digits running up his thighs, around his hips, and back down again. And he really liked the way Prowl was looking at him as he sat back, servos braced behind him on the cyberninja’s knees.
Bumblebee cycled a breath as he raised his hips up and forwards, aligning his valve with Prowl’s spike. He felt the digits on his thigh guards tighten while moving up to his waist, forcing the scout to go slow as he lowered his frame.
A sigh from the cyberninja sent a shiver up his backstruts, callipers contracting. The tension earned a shaky gasp and whine from the scout, raising and lowering his hips quicker and harder. Definitely not lasting long. He whimpered as servos dug into the deep divots he’d been given earlier, and nearly lost his stability when Prowl thrust upwards while pulling him down.
“NNGFF—! Ohhhhffffraaaaaag~”
Bumblebee had to lean forward to stay on top at all, digits scratching the glass of Prowl’s cracked windshield as they curled. He could hear the grunts, moans, and sighs of the usually quiet mech much better, feeling his spark flutter with every sound.
“A-ah… Bumblebee—“
“—Just—“ The minibot struggled through the effort of keeping himself upright. “—j-just a little more—!” He was barely managing to speak at an audible volume, vocals strained as scratched-up hips met each emphatic thrust. His callipers couldn’t be tighter, and he wondered briefly if overload could take someone offline.
“OoooohhhhfragfragfragFRAG—!”
His answer came in the form of screeching tires, crashing metal, and a disgustingly sinful cry of release. Transfluid flowed out of his spike and onto Prowl’s chassis, jetting with each thrust into his overstimulated valve. The sensation was almost too much—
“MHF—!!!”
—And then Prowl rammed up and in as hard as he could.
If the scout had been sensitive before, the extra pressure and warmth in his valve pushed him over the edge of what was tolerable. His hips jolted to lift off of Prowl’s spike, web-like strands of transfluid connecting between them. He could feel his thigh guards shaking and his panels snap shut, collapsing on the ground between the cyberninja’s stabilizers with a wheeze.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, just… got a little… frazzled there…” Bumblebee panted, relieved as his heat protocols finally subsided. Lying on the cold floor of his room had never felt so good. He heard Prowl's panels close, and it prompted him to finish his thought before he lost it. “Th-thanks for… For the uhm… The help. But uh, what’s our plan for when—“
.:You two online?:.
The sudden, raspy voice made the pair jump, and the uncomfortable realization of just how much time had passed hit them simultaneously. Screwed. So, so screwed. After a moment of silence had passed, Ratchet chimed in again.
.:I can tell y’both can hear if the comm link is connecting, and I ain’t stupid. Kid, you came to me about it yesterday, ‘nd today you get put on with the only bot fried enough to frag you. So, Prowl, how bad’s the damage?:.
Bumblebee snickered when he saw Prowl's indignant expression, which quickly turned into mild embarrassment as he looked the two of them up and down.
.:It’s… not that significant.:.
.:Uh-huh. 'nd if I said I’d left patrol early to deal with repairs, would you be relieved?:.
.:I… suppose.:.
.:Yeah, figures. Well, wrap it up and clean it up before I get there, will you? I ain’t interested in walkin’ in on that mess. And for Spark’s sake, don’t talk to me about it.:.
Both autobots looked somewhat horrified at the idea, throwing out overlapping defenses immediately to deny even the tiniest possibility of it happening.
.:Alright, alright! Glad we understand each other. Now, I know probably shouldn’t even bother with this— but did any energon palettes get prepared?:.
.:Ah, we did… We did not get to that, no.:.
.:Of course. Well, you two got about fifteen cycles before I’m there. Ship better be spotless by then, understood?:.
.:Understood, Ratchet.:.
.:Got it, doc-bot.:.
.:Don't disappoint me. I promise you'll regret it.:.
And then there was silence. After a wave of relief passed over them, Prowl stood and offered a servo to Bumblebee. The pull to his pedes was strong and steady, and he cursed internally over the stupid buzzing in his spark. I can't even blame it on the heat protocols.
“So uh, when we… When we get back to the plant, it’ll probably be time that the uhm… Protocols kick back in. Is that… Something you’d be interested in..?” The scout felt incredibly warm asking, and he knew his attempt at seeming "chill" had failed miserably. “I know we— well, we mentioned it earlier, but I can’t tell how uhh…” he trailed off, wishing desperately for his confidence to return. “I can’t tell how serious of an offer that was.”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t serious,” Prowl answered, opening one of the storage units near the door and pulling out cleaning towels. He used one to wipe himself, and handed the other to Bumblebee. "Here. You can take this to the showers."
"But what about–?"
"–It feels… Partially my fault. You also don't clean very well to begin with," the cyberninja admitted, adding the last comment with a small smile.
"Oh, please! I left snacks out once!"
"It was way more than one time, and not just about snacks," Prowl corrected, before shaking his helm and nudging past the smaller bot. He opened one of the higher cupboards, pulling out the cleaning supplies stored in each unit. "We do not have time for this. Go shower."
"Fine, fine! I'm going! Jeeze!" Bumblebee waved one servo while pressing the keypad with the other. "I, uh– I'll see you in the medbay..?" Like that's not going to be the most uncomfortable repair job ever. Maybe I should just ask Ratchet how to buff things out on my own… Or make him show Prowl. Actually, that's not a bad idea–
"Clock's ticking, Bee."
The nickname made him stall for a second, and a stupid grin crept up his faceplate. He's never said that before. I wonder if he'll say it again. He decided he didn't want the next time to be when Prowl was peeved at him, so he strode out into the hallway with his towel and made his way to the showers.
His stabilizers ached, most of him ached, and the idea of hauling energon cubes after all that was almost torturous. But, it would definitely help stave off the next swing of his heat cycle.
Not that he wasn't a little excited for that, of course.