Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He didn’t understand how they had talked him into it.

It was utterly ridiculous and the exact opposite of what he had come over to the Constructicon’s barracks for. He had come over to reprimand them. He had done so, very loudly, very angrily. There was no getting out of the collective cleanup they had to do tomorrow as an apology to the Aerialbots after wrecking their quarters and equipment. He still didn't know what had set his gestalt off like that, but it wasn't as if they needed much reason, they were not really fans of any other Autobot than... well him.

But it had been a long day. Another tormenting, dreadful, long day filled with meetings and sideway glances and carefully concealed, or not concealed at all, hate. And Prowl was tired.

He still had no clue how they had talked him into it. How he had allowed something as domestic as cuddling, and with the Constructicons of all mechs. But he had, and they were. It was a very unusual position, one he had never thought he would end up in, and certainly one he would sooner deactivate before admitting how much he adored.

Hook was starting to tell him his pride would be the death of them all. 

"Good." He often replied while scolding himself for indulging even in the tiniest bit of banter, knowing far too well it would only encourage his gestalt more. 

Like it had this time.

Soft vents and rumbling engines laid all around him, threatening to pull him back into recharge, and with a check on his chronometer he knew he would let it. In a click.

It had been a long day.

He just wanted to breathe and cherish this for a moment, with his battle processor still sluggish and the other ends of the gestalt bond too far into recharge to witness his weakness.

Hook laid under him, a hand on each of his hip-plates and with Prowl's head right in the crook of his neck. ‘Where he belonged’ the medic had joked, but Prowl had felt all the sincerity pushed his way over the bond. 

Bonecrusher laid to his left, his mouth right on top of Prowl's chevron and chest pressed as close as he could while laying with his back to the door, shielding the unit if someone were to break it down. Sometimes it marvelled Prowl how protective the mech was, the entire unit was way more protective than anyone the enforcer had ever met but none of them like Bonecrusher. It sparked a warm, fuzzy feeling in his spark knowing that he was one of the mechs Bonecrusher considered his to protect. He decided to aggressively ignore the tingly feeling.

He didn't need more weaknesses.

On his other side Mixmaster had somehow managed to curl around Prowl's frame, snaking arms and legs around in a way that had to be uncomfortable, but the chemist snored happily with a content rumble, a stray leg had made it over his own and every now and again he would roll it over his wheel making it spin, how utterly ridiculous.

When they had piled together it had become a race and with quite a few hard shoves, arguments and disapproving glares from Prowl they had in the end found a pile formation that allowed everyone to be comfortable, and keep Prowl's doorwings out of the fray.

They laid lazily over the arms curled around his waist and chest and Prowl breathed a sigh of relief as even now they fed him with the automatic flow of sensory input, calm and undisturbed.

A small nuzzle between them brought him back.

Well mostly undisturbed.

It had quickly become apparent when the larger gestaltmates had settled that there would be no spot directly next the Prowl left. Scavenger, having been shoved out of the way, looked positively sparkbroken at the prospect. Trying desperately to find a hole where he could place himself, he had tried between Bonecrusher and Prowl, but a deep warning growl was enough to get him to back off.

Prowl hadn't known what had come up in him then, he blamed it on the gestalt programming. But as someone at his back laughed and another answered with mockery, and Scavenger looking so defeated.

Prowl had snarled back. Denta bared and telling all of them to ‘cut it the scrap out’ unless they wanted to recharge on the floor.

That had shut everyone up. A sudden shy feeling had settled as he quickly figured out the last available spot.

Eugh. 

He would never live this down.

He had shuffled a bit into Hook, getting comfortable so he wouldn't have to move and then he had told Scavenger to mind the doorwings as he casually, because there was no way the other would get to see it affecting him, patted his lower back.

The youngest Constructicon had looked like he had been hit with a heavy load. 

Shock thrummed across the bond and then the most wonderful warm feeling followed. Because then Scavenger had smiled, so wide, so bright as he had rushed to get on the bed. Arms locking around Prowl's waist and face right in between his doorwings as he had giggled so happily. 

Prowl had refused to look.

He had smirked triumphantly at the instant jealousy that raged over their bond though.

Curled around Mixmaster was Long Haul. A protective arm was splayed over all of them as far as he could reach. His head rested somewhere over Hook's, successfully cocooning the entire gestalt along with Bonecrusher. It was such a safe way to recharge, so indulgent, so vulnerable. 

He hated it, he loved it, he hated that he loved it and it made his processor swim as they had settled down. Even now his processor was trying to reboot, telling him to remove himself from the pile, from the enemy, from the heat. But where else would he go? Would he ever find something like this again? After Chromedome... He didn't know what to think or feel and with a defeated sigh he nuzzled closer to Hook's neck cables. He didn't want to think, he just wanted to forget. Forget the war, the betrayal, the hurt, the cold and allow himself this one weakness.

This one time of absolute safety and warmth and then he would pull away and it would not be allowed to happen again.

Chapter Text

The base was still quiet, it was still early and the sun had just risen up over the horizon, bathing the ground below in a warm golden light. It was serene.

And almost perfect.

It would have been, in Long Haul’s mind, if he had come online finding all of his bondmates curled up in his arms. But peering down at the pile next to him it quickly dawned on him that it would be awhile before he got to have that. The pile of green and purple mechs snored and rumbled through recharge unbothered for now, systems almost ready to reboot.

But the small black and white Autobot was no where to be seen, having apparently gotten up before the rest of them and once again left. Long Haul briefly spared a thought at how he must have gotten out of Scavenger’s hold seeing as the smaller Constructicon was now locked around Hook’s middle.

He sighed defeatedly, a painful jap in his inner at being rejected, again.

He knew to not get too upset, they were here to stay and Prowl would come around when he figured that out. At some point he would get tired of freezing them out, need them as much as they needed him and they would be there to catch him when that happened.

Quietly untangling himself from the pile he headed for the door.

He had a pretty good idea where he would find him, where he would always find him when he tried to run away from his feelings. For such a brilliant mech he surely had a hard time with emotions. Long Haul mused over the tought as he passed the rec room grabbing a single cube.

It was actually Scavenger’s turn, but since he was still recharging, it was just too bad. You snooze you lose.

He rapped at the door instead og pinging it, it was a usual thing for them, a more personal thing. He held his breath for a click and thought for a moment that he wasn’t going to be allowed in but then slowly the door slid open.

He was exactly where he had pictured him, hunched over a datapad.

“Long Haul? You should still be recharging, why are you here?” He said voice still small as to not disturb what was left of the morning peace.

“I woke up and you were gone” He wasn’t going to pretend, not bothering covering up the hurt in his tone as he came in and placed down the cube. Prowl looked down at it, a strange look in his optics, something that would look like shame on someone else’s features but here it just looked lost.

He didn’t say anything as he took the cube, carefully opening it and taking a small sip. Somehow he seemed smaller than usual but it might have been because his doorwings were turned down.

“Thanks you Long Haul, that will be all.” Dismissal, not even looking up from the datapad.

He hummed in acknowledgement, rubbing the back of his neck as to rub the tiredness from them. When he had settled down for reacharge it felt like he would finally sleep well again but it had been shattered as he had onlined his optics, facing the truth.

“You know,” He started, waiting for doorwings to rise slightly, indicating that Prowl was listening before continuing.

“I’m going to bring the others their energon too... You could come refuel with us.”

Come back, the others didn’t have to know you had left.

Prowl stilled for a nanoclick, his plating feeling tight as he sipped on the energon.

“I can’t do that.” He said finally. Long Haul nodded again, hurting but accepting it.

“Well... maybe another time then?” He offered and as Prowl finally looked back up, meeting that bright red, hopeful visor, what else could he do?

“Maybe another time.” He agreed.

Chapter Text

The work stretched on.

And it didn’t fragging stop.

Reports, assignments, overseeing, meetings, more meetings, more reports, planning, briefings, it kept going. The datawork never stopped and there was always someone who needed to talk to him, leaving him with absolutely no time at all to catch a breath.

It was fine.

It was normal.

Except for that it had been going on for days.

He held his helmet and rubbed his chevron. His processor ached, begging for him to let it defrag, he needed to recharge. Looking over the piles upon piles stacked around his office he knew it would be a while.

He was sure that if the Constructicons hadn’t taken it upon themselves to bring him fuel he would have forgotten as well, but the look they gave him every time they saw him was starting to make him feel self-consious. Maybe he should just pretend not to be in when the next cube got delivered.

No, they would collectively disassemble him alive if he did that.

His engine rumbled, informing him that his energon should be arriving any minute and just as he was about to send a message that he didn’t need any fuel today a rapping sounded on his door.

Slag.

He ran a tired servo down his face, laying down the datapad and pinging the door to open.

Primus surely hated him.

Hook stood at his door, the moment it was fully opened he stepped in and with a quick look at the enforcer he gave a disappointed sigh.

“Crusher did say that you looked like slag.” He simply stated making his way to the desk like a hundred times before.

Prowl scowled at him.

“It’s not that bad.” He defended but his voice sounded off to him as well. Hook leaned on the desk as he offered him the cube and had he not been so hungry he would have scolded him for it. Instead he grabbed the fuel and basically emptied the whole thing in a few big gulps.

Hook just starred at him.

And kept starring.

Doorwings twitched.

“What?!” Prowl finally snapped as the medic made no move to leave. Simply looking at him with that knowing, disappointed expression. When did that even start getting to him?

“When was the last time you recharged?” He asked slowly. Prowls processor stalled for a nanoclick, asking the same question. He honestly didn’t remember.

“Yesterday.” He lied, keeping his voice even.

“Is that so?” Red visor narrowed as he leaned over the desk pointing an accusing digit at the Autobot, a telltale sign that he had to step carefully.

“That’s funny because Scavenger was waiting for you to finish yesterday, wanted to walk with you to your quaters, but he said you never came out of this blasted room. He waited all night. So try again, when did you last recharge?” He was not buying any of his excuses today apparently.

Frag the gestalt and their fragging neediness.

“I don’t know, it’s been some hectic few days.” He finally answered honestly, fixing the ex-con with a glare of his own, the fuel finally started settling and he felt his processor ache dim slightly. If only for just a bit. A little relief was better than none.

Hook continued to stare, and Prowl thought for a moment he was running a scan on him but his doorwings hadn’t picked up anything so he stayed quiet.

“Alright” He finally said shuttering his visor and standing up. Prowl cocked his helmet. Was he going to leave?

“I think you’ve exerted yourself more than enough for now, as your doctor-” Prowl did a doubletake, he wasn’t, was he?

“you’re not-”

“As your doctor, I order you to take the rest of the day off.” He cut off any excuse Prowl could have made as he turned around and held a hand to his audial, more than likely comm'ing someone. He started humming, nodding his head and at the end he turned back towards Prowl.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said before he lowered his hand. “I just informed Ratched of the situation and you are on forced leave for the rest of the cycle and night cycle. Now are you going to come with me or do i have to get Bonecrusher and Long Haul to come over here.” He asked threatening and Prowl knew that he would do that if he refused.

He felt anger draw into his own field, tired but not yet defeated. Scanning over all the datapads in the room he scowled deep.

“Hook i get that you’re trying to help, but look around you, no one else is going to do this work!” He growled, voice tight. Hook looked at him like he was waiting for the point to drop.

“So that’s your excuse this time for working yourself into deactivation.” He lifted his hand again, likely to comm their gestalt, something that was purely a warning for Prowl since they both knew he could use the bond, something he probably already was.

The medic gave him a look as he opened his mouth to argue. Did he really want to face the humiliation of being forced out of his office by his gestalt?

No, he really didn’t. He gave a groan and he shot Hook a dirty look as he stood and stalked towards the door. He passed a stack on the way and subspace a handful of datapads, promptly not looking at Hook as he did.

He heard a mutter behind him, following him down the hall as he raged. His doorwings were set in a straight rigid line and his scowl made more than a few unlucky mechs jump to the side, unwilling to get caught up in Prowl’s bad mood.

He cast a murderous look backwards, one he knew wasn’t being taken serious if the amusement he felt of the medic was any indication.

Blast them all to the pit.

Chapter Text

It had been a dumb idea.

But frankly he had needed to get away, between the endless work and the restless command, the useless arguments and the rising need to commit mass murder Prowl had needed to do something else.

So he had signed up for a quick recon mission. It was completely standard and it was just scouting out an abandoned Decepticon base on one of the nearby planets. Easy, wouldn’t take much more than a cycle, and as an Autobot elite he could do it himself. Perfect. He would be alone to sort out his thoughts and figure out how to get the situation back under control. He had signed up and told everybody to keep their mouth shut, only a selected few had known.

And yet.

Somehow the pit-spawned glitched that tormented his every waking moment had known.

Surely high command had a mole he was going to take care of when he came back.

They had been at the platform before him, inspecting his ship with critical optics but still loading it with equipment and rations. “Rather small for all of us isn’t it?” Mixmaster had asked and Long Haul laughed, “It’s an Autobot ship, i don’t think they get much bigger!”

Prowl had nearly blown a gasket

In hindsight, having his gestalt somehow finding out and demanding to come along had been his luck. He was sure if Primus actually existed he had a blast making his life difficult.

The recon had gone well, everything had gone well and he had been done in record time, trying to outrun his persistent followers the entire time. But then it had gone to slag. It was a cold planet, frozen liquid metal rained down at any given time of the cycle, snow littered the ground in thick layers and ice hung from everywhere, and as night had settled and they had made their way back, temperatures had dropped, severely.

Prowl had insisted on continuing, wanting to get off world and create distance between him and the ‘cons as soon as possible, and it made him groan to think back on his own stupidity. He had known, his processor had informed him to turn around to the base, to shelter.

They had been caught out in a storm.

It hadn’t taken long for Prowls wheels to freeze up, stuck in the thick snow and he had had to transforms to dig himself out. Bonecrusher and Long Haul had tried to help but he had snapped furiously at them so get off of him. Long Haul had done so until he had seen Bonecrusher continuing while throwing his own set of insults in Prowl’s face. They had eventually managed to get him free. The Decepticons big wheels and threads were much better against this environment and Scavenger who had driven on for a bit had informed them of a cave nearby.

So they settled there for the night. Instead of in a huge base where he could have created distance, he was stuck in this tiny cave, with five ex-cons who were laughing at his misery.

“Oh come on Prowl, it’s not so bad.” Mixmaster brought the energon, he had stored in his subspace, out and started mixing it with different metals. Prowl was already debating if he was going to drink it, he never actually knew what the chemist put in there and it worried him.

“Yeah, it’s just a little bit of snow, we’re gonna be trapped here for a little while but we’ll be back to the ship tomorrow.” The cubes were passed around and Mixmaster wiggled the last one suggestively at him. Feeling his tanks running low and threatening to rumble at him, he took it with a glare before stalking back to his self-assigned spot a by the cave’s mouth, refusing to get too close to the gestalt.

The cold was biting at his plates.

The fuel helped, whatever extra Mixmaster had added made the fuel feel tingly, making it burn slightly down his intake and spread warmly in his tank. He would at least admit that was nice. He had to cut the content sigh in his intake but he did let out a small huff. The banter continued behind him.

A warning ping on his HUD made his frown run deep.

“I don’t take it we brought any emergency blankets?” Prowl asked, forcing an authoritarian tone to cover up the way his denta had started to clench and he knew his armor would start to rattle soon. It was going to be a very cold night, far too cold. Looking over at the unit behind him he felt his spark drop, they had huddled close, looking at him with amused optics. Long Haul was the first one to answer him.

“Prowl, we don’t use blankets.” He huffed, visor giving him a once-over as his engine rumbled.

“Babe, we’re five heavy warframes, you won’t be cold with us” Mixmaster picked up and Prowl bristled angrily at the petname, Mixmaster practically shone at the reaction. How dare he talk to him like that in a situation like this. He was about to bite back but it got much worse.

“Come on Prowl” Bonecrusher pattet his lap, his tone heavy and a little more than suggestive. “I’m not gonna bite... well, unless you beg me to.” He laughed, knowing Prowl was backed into a corner. He could freeze all night, probably not recharge for a minute or he could come closer and warm himself by the warframes. Primus was surely laughing.

“Frag you!” He snarled at them, predictable, of course he did. Bonecrusher let out another laugh, his engine rumbling and another taunt on his glossa.

“Stop antagonising him Crush, can’t you see he’s cold!” Scavenger piped up, upset clear in his voice as he moved over into Bonecrushers lap, the other grunting in a dissatisfied way but was not complaining. This however left Scavenger’s old spot with Long Haul and Hook free for Prowl. It was almost sweet, a nice gestus to let him get to recharge with the mechs least likely to anger him.

But it still meant he had to cuddle with them.

He would sooner deactivate.

He turned back towards the storm raging outside, his entire front cooling faster than he would have liked.

“Don’t be stubborn Prowl.” Someone said, Hook? He didn’t really care. Leaning against the cave wall he resigned himself to a freezing cold night.

Voices kept calling for him, beckoning him to come closer, waiting for a response that didn’t come. After a while angry bickering broke out, aimed at Bonecrusher and Mixmaster for upsetting their boss. They knew him, had been in his head, they knew of his pride and stubbornness, how much he disliked them. He didn’t listen too closely, he couldn’t feel much over the ice that had settled on his front, growing thicker as his engine tried to heat up his frame and failing. Plating was rattling loudly and he huffed his ex-vents down his chassis. He knew he would have to go further inside.

Maybe he could sit on the edge from them and bask in the heat from there. He prayed they would fall into recharge first though, so he wouldn’t have to give up in front of them. Even he knew this was an idiotic extreme.

He didn’t have to wait though.

Big warm hands, big enough to wrap around his middle, encased him. Arms snaking around to pull him backwards into an impossible warm chest.

Oh, that was nice.

He looked up with wide optics, starring into Long Haul’s red visor. He looked sorry, apologizing on the behalf of the rest of the unit. He swiped the ice of his plating as he stood, bringing Prowl with him backwards and moving back to his spot.

His vision was slightly blurred, he hadn’t even noticed. He could hear a faint clicking of metal over metal and realized embarrassed that it was his plates. Okay, that whole thing might not have been his best move. Hook looked at him with an expression that said he was about to lose his head, the rest of the unit looked worried. He scoffed, turning away from them and burrowing further into Long Haul, shifting so his wings could shake the cold off on the side.

“You are way too stubborn for your own good.” It was Hook, seemingly giving up on lecturing him for now as he came up in front of him and sprawled over his lap, his own engine running comfortably, warming up the cold plating at a more steady pace.

Bonecrusher held Scavenger close as he stood, an evident angry scowl on his face as he settled right next to Long Haul, opting for warming up the space around them. “If i had known you would go all Autobot prude I would have saved it for another time.” He muttered under his breath and Scavenger fixed him with a glare that told him if he didn’t save it right now, he would recharge on his own.

Mixmaster came up behind him, seemingly having nothing to say and a troubled expression on his face. Mindful of the doorwings he tried rubbing warmth back into the sensitive wiring on his back.

Prowl shuttered his optics, not having enough energy to fight the cuddle he so insisted on hating, the mechs he hated even more. They were awful, but the warmth was very nice, and with the steady, wonderful rumbling shaking his entire frame how could he fight off the shut down?

Warm hands caressing his thighs was what pulled him out of recharge and he tensed right as he snapped his optics online. A small moment of panic before he remembered where he was and...eugh.. with whom.

Bonecrusher and Scavenger had both shifted closer during the night cycle and he was now perfectly encased by the five ex-cons. His optics followed the hands on his thighs and he met Mixmasters smiling face.

He scowled.

“Don’t look like that Prowl, Im just trying to make it good for you.” He rumbled and leaned forward, nuzzling into his sideplating. He physically had to restrain himself from punching the mech. Having felt him tense up Mixmaster gave him a quizzical look.

“Ah, of course.” He looked disappointed but backed off, hands still running but much slower now and more like a light caress. “I keep forgetting that you don’t feel the same.” He looked up at the blue optics above him and decided he loved the sight.

“I have to admit I didn’t think you’d go so far yesterday, when Long Haul pulled you in you were so very cold.” He said and the fact sounded like a confession, of worry or of guilt, Prowl couldn’t decide.

“I think i can safely say for everyone we’d rather if you’d just use us then. Hook especially is mad but you made us all worry, we wouldn’t have touched you if you didn’t want it, or.. okay, maybe I have been wanting to feel these up for a while.” He snickered and gave each thigh a squeeze that made Prowl yelp. Letting go the chemist hummed as he gave him a smirk.

“But you’re our boss Prowl, we’ll do what you want.” He said and Prowl felt his spark pulse. Warmth traveled to his face and Mixmaster looked far too please with himself as his hands travelled further up.

With an indignant huff Prowl grabbed both hands and shoved them back at the ex-con, turning back to lay against Long Haul He shuttered his optics, ignoring the chuckling behind him. The storm was still going outside and he was not getting up for any annoying half-wit right now.

“Go back to recharge you glitch.”

“Yes sir~”

Chapter Text

It was almost comical. Mixmaster felt a snicker rising in his intake but he bit it back before it sounded. He didn’t want to startle the smaller Autobot, leaning hard against the doorframe of an empty office where he had just had another meeting with high command.

It was Mixmaster’s turn to bring Prowl his energon, the enforcer was quite good at forgetting it, usually working himself into a stupor and none of the Constructicons could figure out just how he had manage to take care of himself befor they entered the picture.

Then again maybe he just hadn’t.

He certainly wasn’t any good at it, the ex-con concluded as he quietly walked up to him. He let his field wash gently over the enforcer, whose own field felt so calm but also just so tired. Still he urged him to wake.

The light flickering of his optics and the sudden tilting of his white helmet signalled that he was indeed awake. Mixmaster always took a small piece of pleasure watching the other mech come online in such a calm manner, knowing he usually snapped awake with a tension and a glare.

The grogginess quickly vanished as he looked up at Mixmaster’s smiling face, he didn’t smile back, but he didn’t scowl at him either. Either way it counted as a win.

“Your energon.” He offered the cube and dark slender digits took it, bringing it to lipplates instantly.

“I mixed some magnesium in there, Hook said you had another meeting later and I figured you’d like something to keep you going longer.” Mixmaster said as he took the datapad from Prowl before going into the room to collect the rest that was sprawled about. When he came back out Prowl started to move, casting him unreadable glances as he carried the ‘pads to his office chatting excitingly as he did.

Chapter Text

They were yelling at each other.

Again.

Prowl was sure the whole base could hear them yell as he once again screamed at them to leave him the frag alone and get out of his life.

Out of his head.

Out of his spark.

Bonecrusher screamed back at him, he always did, as the others tried to argue with him less aggressively but just as hurt. None of them had a choice, but it wasn’t that bad.

But to Prowl it was, and it would be for a while and everytime the feelings overwhelmed him, when anxiousness and distrust overflowed in his spark he would take it out on them. The only ones close enough to understand but still too close for comfortable.

Always too close.

They knew all his secrets and he hate it. So he lashed out since it's the only thing he knew how to do to get it to go away, fight it.

“I hate you so much, i wish you would just disappear, you’re dragging me down and-“

“Shut up Prowl! That’s not the fragging issue here and you know it! We know it! Why do you have to make this so difficult!?”

“You’ll back off right now if you know what’s good for you!” Prowl hissed back, baring his denta as the truth smacked him in the face. he hunched over ready to take it if Bonecrusher would decide he had enough and throw fists. Scavenger curled further into himself from his spot on the bed behind the rest of the gestalt, he whimpered quietly, to no ones surprise the younger Constructicon wanted nothing to do with the screaming fest.

“Or you’ll do what?! Leave again? You always slagging leave! You’re so fragging terrified of your own feelings you can’t even stay!” Bonecrusher slammed his fist into the wall, bending it further than it already was from previous fights.

“He’s right Prowl, this isn’t fair.” Hook chimed in, crossing his arms with a dangerous gleam in his visor, telling the other that he was about done playing this game.

“And yet it’s still your fault! I never wanted to be apart of this! I literally hate you and I want you gone! But nevermind that because this is great! This is fine!” He roared and it gave away far too much emotion, pushing the hopelessness against the clamp he had on the bond. His plating snapped shut as his vents grew shallow, something resembling fear rising. No, he shoved it down. He locked his legs to stop himself from pacing. Rubbed his chevron to calm himself, he needed to leave, distance himself before he lost control and opened the damn thing.

“Are you kidding, we’re not ‘fine’!” Was roared back at him before he could even take a breath.

“Look at us, this is not how it’s supposed to be and it’s because you’re insisting on blaming us for everything!” It was Mixmaster this time, apparently even he was reaching his limit. Bonecrusher punched the wall again, letting out a roar in frustration.

None of them knew how to fix this. Prowl didn’t even know why he'd originally had come down to their barracks? Was it just to yell at them? Had there been another reason? He didn’t know.

Hook pointed an accusing digit at him and he snarled at the medic.

“We all got some serious issues Prowl, but at least ours doesn’t split us apart! You need to fix yours, and you better get used to the thought of us helping you, because we ain’t going nowhere so suck it up!” He yelled, really raising his voice and sounding as if his words were final.

Long Haul gave a low affirmative, standing at the medics back as a shield. Prowl bristled, his armor flaring in anger as his field promised to deactivate someone. He paced back and forth a few times, gritting his denta, he didn’t know how to respond to that, his spark jumped but his processor spun. He just wanted to kill something.

Letting out an enraged sound he stormed for the door.

He would not be apart of this.

Chapter Text

There was an insistent sound of quiet hiccupping vents. Prowl tried his best to pay it no mind as he looked over the damage report. Lots of bots had broken down crying in his office, he knew not to let it affect him, and usually it didn’t, he wasn’t the Autobot’s priced tactician for nothing. The only difficult thing about this situation was that the one currently crying happened to be one of his gestaltmates.

His spark clenched uncomfortably as his programming called out to comfort the Constructicon. Prowl scowled harder, making the mech in front of him wince and cry harder.

Slag, he hadn’t meant for that.

He couldn’t help but letting his eyes soften a bit. The report had said that Scavenger had had an accident while on a small outing to the closest mine. Something that usually wasn’t a problem if not for the fact that the mine had collapsed with a dozen miners inside. No one had died and Scavenger had said that he didn’t cause the cave-in. And being the excavator of the Constructicons Prowl also knew he hadn’t, he’s a professional there’s no way he would have caused it. But still the charges stood with property damage, damage to crew and theft for the crystals he had refused to give back. Scavenger had been there illegally, stealing crystals and that was enough for an ex-con to lose all credibility.

Prowl sighed.

All in all It was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he had arrived on the scene Hook had already been there, arguing formidably while looking the smaller mech over. Prowl knew he had to deescalate the situation before the rest of the team showed up or else murder would also end up on the papers.

He managed to convince Scavenger to return the crystals and for the foreman to let Prowl take him into custody. Hook had made an off comment as they left about Prowl finally starting to act like one of the team. The nasty look Prowl had shot him was luckily enough to shut him up. Scavenger had been awfully quiet under the whole drive home though.

It was first when they had entered his office, Hook dismissed with the wave of a hand and another look that brokered no chance for debate, that Scavenger started to cry and telling what had happened.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked and the fear was so clear in his voice, like if Prowl told him yes he would have him leave indefinitely. This was not really about the mine for Scavenger. Prowl felt a cold shudder run down his spine. There was a slight tug af the clamp he had on the bond and he knew that Scavenger wanted to show him he was being sincerer. He didn’t have to though, Prowl already knew.

“Of course not.” He said after another vent, laying the report down and reaching into his desk for a tissue. Scavenger starred at it for a moment before slowly taking it and drying his eyes.

“You’re not mad?” He asked uncertain, it took multiple tried for the tears to stop, but Scavenger finally managed to gather himself somewhat at the prospect of not being severely hated by his commander.

“No, this-“ Prowl gestured to the report, his doorwings rising in agitation. “Is clearly an attempt to scam us into paying for the reparation of a mine that was unsafe to begin with, I’ll send out a team tomorrow to make an evaluation.” He finished, taking out a fresh datapad to begin preparations. Scavenger seemed to deflate, his shoulders slumping as he let go of the anxiety that had settled.

“So I’m not in trouble?” He dared to ask, not quite ready to assume anything. And that was probably a good thing.

“Oh you are.” Prowl confirmed, intertwining his hands in front of him as he sported a piercing stare. “I can take care of it all, but i need you to explain the theft part. So do you want to tell me why you were trespassing in the first place?” Not impressed, Prowl was not impressed but somehow Scavenger didn’t seem as worried now. He looked down at his pedes though, thinking over his answer.

Although not giving it quickly enough for Prowl’s taste.

“What did you even want those crystals for Scavenger? We have plenty of legal materials you can take.” Prowl growled, his doorwings rising ever so slightly in agitation. Scavenger shuffled in place, his red eyes shining down on his face or... no, that’s was a blush.

It looked strangely endearing, if not for the fact that he had been crying.

Tears didn’t suit Scavenger.

Prowl promptly looked down at his reports as his spark jumped at the thought, sending him a mental picture of the mech smiling. He grimaced.

“Well... We were talking and Mix mentioned something about Praxus having a bunch of crystals and... I thought you would like them...” Head snapping back up Prowl couldn’t help but stare in disbelief.

Had he heard that correctly?

Scavenger had gone into a mine, that was on the verge of collapsing, to get him crystals that would remind him of his home, simply because he thought he would like them. He couldn’t help the way his face started to warm up. A tight coil of difficult emotions swirled around in his tank and it must have shown because Scavenger looked most pleased at the reaction, a bright smile lifting his face. As it should.

Prowl tried to school himself back into formality, he succeeded somewhat, but the damaged had already been done and Scavenger clearly was not going to stop smiling.

“Alright you can leave.” He said, irritation clear in his voice but there was no real bite to it.

“But what about the charges?”

“I’ll figure something out, you returned to crystals and I’m sure the evaluation will give me some... devastating evidence.” Prowl let the tip of his lips lift in a smile at the idea, at least he would get to blackmail the foreman after he threatened the smallest Constructicon. Oh, he was going to enjoy ruining that man's career.

The door closed quietly behind him, leaving Prowl alone to scheme on the other side. Scavenger didn’t have to look up to know that the rest of the gestalt was watching him with careful eyes, probably waiting for him to bury himself in their arms and cry about how Prowl hated him.

But no.

Instead he gingerly took Hook’s hand, the smile on his face widening as he thought of the surprised look Prowl had given him. He had been spot on, Prowl would have loved the crystals.

“I’m not in trouble.” He finally broke the silence and he knew the rest of them was eyeing him with disbelief. “Prowl will take care of the whole thing, I was right about him liking crystals though, oh you should have seen him!” He piped up so joyously and Mix let out a laugh letting go of his nervousness as realisation settled in and Scavenger allowed them to feel his end of the bond.

Next time he would make sure to come home with something, but for now this worked out well too.

Chapter Text

The fight had been hard. Honestly he didn’t know what had possessed the Decepticon splinter group to attack them seeing as they knew it was going to offline them. Or maybe that’s why they had done it, Megatron’s betrayal burning bright in their sparks and not done fighting for the cause.

In any way they had been formidable warriors, obviously gunning for taking as many down as possible. Not winning, unpredictable and dangerous.

Because of them a lot of Autobots had been sent to the medbay where every medic was racing around trying to keep them stable. It was a mess, one that had left him and the entire high command with more work than they knew what to do with.

Left Prowl with more work than he knew what to do with.

He scoffed bitterly, for someone who had barely noticed when he went missing, his fraction sure loved leaving him with the paperwork when things went to the pit. He looked over another datapad, glancing at his desk, it was starting to clear up, he could actually see the now empty container that had held the energon Scavenger had brought him when he hadn’t gone to get his fuel now.

He knew that there were multiple other stacks right outside his door though, he knew the other Autobots had feared his ire and left them there, when they figured out he would drown in the damned reports.

He sighed tiredly and rubbed his chevron.

The sudden rapping on his door nearly startling him. A quick look at his chromometer told him that it was far into the night cycle, it had to be someone in command.

He pinged the door and it opened with a whispered whoosh.

He was actually surprised to see it wasn’t someone from command.

It was Hook.

The Decepticon eyed something by the door as he entered and Prowl could just make out the stack of reports leaning ominously against his doorframe. Scrap.

Hook didn’t say much as he entered, he held himself professionally with a certainty in his step that spoke volumes of how many times he’s tried this before. But, the brightness in his visor and the way his EM field pulsed in and out in waves was enough to tell anyone that he was utterly exhausted.

He walked right up and laid his own report on the desk, off to the side he knew Prowl kept the unfinished reports on.

“The medics are done for now, we have a total loss of a dozen, more than I would like are still in critical but everyone we could stabilize are stable. A lot are having minor damage but nothing that needs immediate treatment, they should be sent back when we have cleared the more seriously injured though.” He stated, turning on the datapad he had brought and Prowl gratefully took it, much rather wanting to look over the medical report than the other endless damage reports.

He nodded along as Hook spoke, setting reminders to send people back to the medical wing and making note of who was injured and who could still fight. His battle processor quickly updating itself on the newest numbers and offering him more than a few new emergency plans.

Hook looked at him while he read the report and took a moment to breathe, he had been hard-pressed since the attack had begun. It had taken them all by surprise, more than anything how capable the splinter group had been, but everything gets easier when you got explosives and several different types of acid at your disposal. Mixmaster had been a little more than jealous.

“It was good you took command Prowl, had we responded much later the numbers would have been twice as high.” The medic said knowing that command had been too unorganised and shocked at the sudden attack to respond effectively.

“There’s a reason I have a battle processor, figuring out how to fight back is what my main function is.” The tactician responded coldly, not really wanting to speak of high command, they had pulled their forces together quickly but the battle had been his to command. Just like he liked it, even if...

“I heard a few talk about how a unit had been left behind.” Hook stated, more than anything to confirm that it was known and bots weren’t happy about the decision.

“They had been too close to the first attack, sending anybody in after them would have been futile.” It would have been stupid and only gotten even more killed, the front soldiers could hate him all they wanted but when sitting with the decision and lives at stake, someone had to make the hard decisions and he didn’t regret his.

“I know, but i think it would make the unit feel more secure if you let one of us accompany you for a few days.” Hook said, matter-of-factly, as if he was still stating a report. The unit was of course the gestalt, but Prowl preferred to be in a unit rather than in a gestalt and he had been less likely to balk if not reminded of their forced relationship. A thing Hook luckily had noticed.

Prowl let his gaze fall on the green mech, a stoic expression on his face but there was a slight twitch to his doorwings, one he did when he grew annoyed.

“So we are going to pretend you don’t already do that?” He said, the doorwings twitching again. Hook just smiled.

“Pretty much, Long Haul will be with you tomorrow.”

Prowl felt like bristling at the information, he did not need protection, and especially not from the Autobots, they wouldn’t dare go against him. Not if they knew what was good for them.

Instead he sighed again and archived the report.

“This conversation is not over.” He stated, letting the medic know he was not going to allow such a display. Hook sighed as well, having expected it fully. That was then Prowl looked at him, really looked at him.

The medic looked like a mess, tired and just as under-fueled as himself. He slumped ever so slightly, his plating hang a bit too loose and his servos... they were shaking ever so faintly. A beat skipped, then another, Prowl didn’t know if Hook was waiting for him to dismiss him but that medic also seemed rather content having his field touching Prowls plating. Gestalts and their damn clinginess.

He couldn’t quite tear his optics from those rattling servos though.

He leaned forward, maybe his processor was finally crashing.

He held out his own servo towards him.

Another beat skipped.

Hook starred at the extended servo before lifting his gaze clearly not knowing what he wanted. Doorwings twitched. He gestured to the medics own servo before extending his servo again and a mischievous look passed over the red visor.

‘You want to hold servos~?’

Prowl could practically hear the words in the others head, not even needing the bond. But a hard and positively lethal glare made sure he never actually spoke. Instead the Decepticon moved closer, rounding the desk so he stood beside the Praxian, leaning against the hard metal that had been welded to the floor so Prowl couldn’t flip it if angered.

Hook smiled and gave him his servo.

He refused to look up, knowing too well that Hook was watching him closely, too closely, always too close. He took it in both of his servos not really knowing why he had wanted to in the first place. For a moment he wanted to let go, regretting reaching out. But looking the delicate instrument over in his hands, worn and trembling from overuse and hard work, he felt a small tug in his spark.

He let his thumb run over the knuckles and down the back.

He heard Hook sigh.

He pressed in slightly at the sides, running blunt Autobot digits over delicate casing and seams, teasing sensitive wiring. Down to the wrist where he pressed in, circling the metal and running back up the open palm.

The sound of an engine starting up made him spare Hook a quick glance. He wasn’t looking at him anymore, seemingly having shuttered his optics off and letting his engine fall into a content purr. He looked so relaxed all of a sudden. Prowl felt his own engine sputter, hoping Hook was too caught up to notice, or at least too caught up to comment.

He didn’t and Prowl let his digits circle each of Hooks, one servo holding Hook's like it was fragile, the other lavishing each digit in attention. He’d done well, he was tired and Prowl would take care of him.

The rumbling purr was constant now, the only real sound in the room.

The enforcer let go of his servo.

It took a moment but when Hook looked up again the disappointment was clear. Prowl didn’t let it settle as he reached for the other.

The sigh that left the Decepticon was just as shaky as his other servo, pressed down in Prowls own as he moved closer, close enough for their legs to touch and Prowl was half convince he would end up with the ex-con in his lap.

The other servo got the same treatment, up and down, pressed metal, stretching wires. Digits probing at inner tubing and when the servo stopped it’s trembling and Hook vented blissfully he simply opted for running ghostly touches along the metal.

Another glance at his chromometer and he gently put the servo down, trading it for a datapad.

“You should go recharge, there’s going to be plenty for you to do tomorrow also.” He stated, back into his role as if he hadn’t just had a towering Decepticon purring loudly in his audible, basically in his lap while he massaged said Decepticon's servo.

Hook gave a small laugh, something that sounded like disbelief, like he couldn’t quite understand what had happened himself.

“If you say so Prowl.” He looked over the stack still littering the desk, knew of the ones outside the door.

“So should you though, it’ll do no one any good if the only capable Autobot burnt out because of datawork.” He picked up a datapad, Prowl was about to protest, some of the information was classified, but Hook simply glared at the words, deeming them unimportant as he laid it back down and stood.

“Come on Prowl, come recharge with us.”

The request was so simple, so calm. Come be with us.

Hook leaned further down, aiming for his neck and Prowl knew he was trying to nuzzle into him.

Gestalt and their damn touchiness.

“No.” He said before he could think about it. Turning his chair away from the medic and shifting right out of his reach, breaking the contact. Hook sighed heavily, but apparently deciding not to push him further, as he walked away from the Praxian whose wings had set in a stiff unreadable position.

He paused by the door letting a servo run over the other, much in the same pattern Prowl had had just a moment ago.

“We’ll keep a spot open for you.” He said with a tiny smile. A statement, a promise.

Prowl didn’t know what to do with the way his spark jumped at that.

Chapter Text

He really wanted to ignore the sound of his door opening with a quiet hiss.

He, really, really wanted to ignore the shifting forms in his peripheral vision who, as quietly as a bunch of warframes could, tiptoed into his office.

He really, really, really tried to ignore the way the pink substance, thankfully not energon from yet another fight, had splattered all over their frames slowly flowed onto his floor.

He even went as far as to cover his eyes so he wouldn’t look at them. His hands pulling helplessly at his own helmet as he wished they would just leave.

“Uh boss?” Long Haul started, funny how he always seemed to be the first to talk, him or Hook, the ones least likely to anger him further. As if that would work.

“We have a problem.” Mixmaster picked up, running a servo down his plating but quickly regretting it as it got stuck in the goo, and when he finally pulled it off, it too was completely covered.

Prowl ex-vented harshly, finally looking up at them when he accepted his wish wasn’t going to come true, his stare was cold enough to shut them up and make them stand at attention. That at least, was something.

“Would shooting you solve it? Because if not, I’m not sure im interested in hearing it.” He spoke fast, a dangerous line set in his doorwings. To a normal soldier it looked like a normal reprimand, but to them, oh, they knew that Prowl was thinking about how he could murder them and get away with it. That was, afterall, why they liked him, and why they stayed very, very quiet.

Slamming his hands down on his desk Prowl rose with an angry mumble, the stack of reports on the table tumbled to the ground and before anyone could even move a muscle the police car had pointed a finger at Scavenger in warning and hissed out a low “Leave them.” Making the smallest Constructicon wince and reel in the need to be helpful.

He pivoted back around and made his way to the far wall where several high stacks of reports laid abandoned. It was rather intimidating to look at.

“All of these!” He said voice high and barely on the verge of yelling. “Are all you!”

There was an impressed laugh from the line of mechs. Only one was dumb enough to laugh when Prowl was this overworked and angry with them.

“So which pile is mine? Please tell me it’s the really big one!” Bonecrusher asked excitedly, already ready to make it into a competition and with the way both Mixmaster and Long Haul looked up it was clear some sort of bet would be thrown in if Prowl didn’t stop them right now.

 “Don’t you even slagging dare.” He warned, nearing the end of his rope. Luckily the mechs straightened back up.

“I’m getting several reports daily about someone you harassed or something you destroyed, and frankly i don’t know what you mean with ‘We got a problem’ when I’m already taking care of all of this to keep you out of the fragging brig!” He made his way back to his desk and a hand instantly grabbed onto the top, giving it a tug.

The others flinched at the threat, but the moment they had witnessed Prowl’s table flipping they had bolted it to the floor. It was relatively safe, for now.

Not that it seemed to help Prowl’s mood. His optic twitched and he stalking closer, right up in Bonecrusher’s face, he opened his mouth, eyes burning with barely controlled rage.

All to shut it and look down with wide eyes as he set foot in the pink goo puddle under the warframes.

One second.

He raised his pede slightly, finding it sticking vigorously to the floor, not impossible to lift but definitely hard.

Two seconds.

His eyes narrowed into slits, blue eyes shinning with murderous intent. Bonecrusher could feel a shiver go down his spine but he didn’t know if it was his own.

Three seconds.

Prowl lifted his hand, pointing towards the door. A last warning, a last chance. One they didn’t feel like tempting with the pure rage radiating off of the tactician. With the fastest salute of their lives they practically stumbled over each other to get out the door.

Prowl was going to slagging offline them in their sleep.

Chapter Text

The loud, continuous rapping on his door startled him awake. It took a moment for his processor to catch up with what had happened. He let out a tired groan as he ran his servos over his aching face. His stack of datapads had tumbled and scattered over the floor. His whole head felt heavy and he could barely keep his optics on.

The rapping continued.

Right.

Annoyance was steadily rising as it refused to cease and give up. He pinged the door without much thought, just wanting the blasted noise to go away.

“What is is now?!” He snapped.

A red visor looked shocked, and a bit apprehensive. Long Haul quietly made his way inside, eyeing Prowl carefully as the door closed behind him, leaving him alone with the sleep deprived enforcer.

“It’s almost morning” He said quietly as if not sure what to say at all. He looked over the mess on the floor and quickly placed the energon in front of his commander. “You’ve been working all night, I thought you would like some energon.”

Prowl nearly recoiled, the anger taking a backseat for for something a bit softer. He scowled down at the fuel as if it had personally offended him, in the back of his mind he dared to admit that it was kind of the mech, considerate. But he wouldn’t have minded continuing the forced recharge even if it would have made him terribly sore.

Long Haul wrung his servos together behind his back. He looked at Prowl a moment longer before he turned around and started gathering up the fallen work. Letting Prowl get a moment to wake up fully. He took the cube and opened it, slightly surprised to find it warm. He took a sip and nearly sighed. Okay he’d give the ex-con that, it was nice. It was very considerate.

He thanked the mech lowly when he put the stack back on his desk and the dumptruck smiled.

“Anytime” he said and Prowl couldn’t help but feel like he meant it as something much more. Long Haul was the odd one out of the group, Prowl thought, he was the only one who truly believed in the Decepticon cause, and from the brief look into the mech’s head when they had combined, Prowl kind of understood.

Having lived under the abuse of the system all of his life, questioning why it mattered that his frame was different, so many questions, such a strong desire to be different from the rest, to be something more. Long Haul was the only one of the group with a true sense of honour and an endless desire to rise above what he had. He didn’t particularly like Megatron or many of the Decepticons but he wanted change so bad he would go the distance.

It was admirable in a way.

Something Prowl understood intimately.

Perhaps it was why he found it hard to be angry with the mech. That or the way he insisted on finding common ground with Prowl. He understood struggle and gave Prowl the space he needed for change.

A red visor starring him straight in the face was what shook him out of his thoughts. Long Haul smiled smugly. “Liking what you see?” Definitely a line straight out of Mixmaster’s book. Prowl groaned.

He wondered if their mannerism would rub off on him as well.

Slag, maybe they already were.

Pushing that whole question and identity crisis into the far back of his mind, he eyed the reports in the warframe's hands. Looking away sheepishly Long Haul took a seat on the floor next to the police car.

“These were not labelled important or classified, so i figured i could help you out with them.” He said, not yet turning on the datapads but looking at Prowl for permission.

“Oh and you suddenly know how to clear reports? Long Haul I’ve seen the reports you turn in, they’re not exactly up to par.” The Praxian said coldly. Long Haul looked slightly ashamed, slag, maybe that was too harsh.

“Well it’s not like i enjoy writing them, there’s hardly a need for my reports if you ask me, but I used to help Scrapper out when he seemed to drown in datawork, so i know how.” He defended, a small twitch at the mention of Scrapper, but Prowl still didn’t quite believe him. Or rather, believe his skills. Still, looking around the room at all the datapads littering every surface, he had litterally been drowning himself for weeks. He never had gotten around to clear the more mundane reports. Doorwings flicked up, then down, then up again as he thought about it.

“Alright, but I want to check the ones you finish, you are not to send anything without me clearing it first.” It would still take longer, but this way he could simply read the summary and the answer and see if it was even passable. It would make it easier if Long Haul could get rid of the neglected pile of non-confidential reports, it had been there for an embarrassingly long time.

Long Haul gave him a serious look, one that he knew best from Scavenger when he wanted to prove himself. And without another word both of them got to work.

Every time Prowl finished one of his own reports he would look over the small pile Long Haul was making for him, it was growing considerably as the ex-con got back into the habit and Prowl had to admit, he was impressed and quite shocked. He had called Long Haul’s bluff when he said he had done this before, but as it would seem, it looked like he actually had. His writing was neat and his answers were reasonable. There were a few where he left the answer to Prowl if he didn’t know what to do with it, but he was fair and very efficient.

Yes, Prowl was actually impressed, not that he would ever say it out loud.

But judging from the way Long Haul eyed him when he looked over the pile, and puffed out his chest with a smile, he probably knew.

It was by the third pile that Prowl gave up on overseeing it.

“If you’re finished, just send it.” He said and the red visor next to him looked several shades lighter. Prowl brushed it off as he looked away. He should probably go recharge, clearly he was seeing things.

At some point after that Long Haul started to slow, the pile he made was stacked way slower than before and Prowl was about to say something when the dumptruck finally stood up, stretching his arms above his head.

“Okay I think I’m done for now.” He said. Looking at his chronometer Prowl realized that it was well into the morning, it was fair for Long Haul to leave. Prowl looked over the finished reports. He had been very fast at this.

Long Haul leaned into the desk, looking down at Prowl with a soft look.

“If you want, i would come back later an help you out with the rest.” He offered, the soft look never leaving. Prowl couldn’t meet it for long, looking down at the report in his hand.

“You dont have to.” He said, and he meant it, it wasn’t Long Haul’s job. He had no obligation to do this type of work. The ex-con grinned.

“But i want to... do you want me to?” There was something else in that question, something far more than just wanting to do boring datawork. Prowl swallowed around nothing, face heating up, still not daring to look up. He really needed to stop working all night if he was getting like this, he was reading way too much into it.

Still he said;

“I would like that, thank you.”

Long Haul hummed and something warm pushed at the clamp he had on the bond, he tried to ignore it. He didn’t even notice how the larger frame had gotten closer until he was right next to him. He didn’t dare look away from the report in his hands as he felt him leaning down. A larger hand covered one of his, giving it a squeeze.

First he felt an ex-vent on the top of his helmet, then a pair of warm lips. He couldn’t even make out the words on the datapad.

Long Haul moved back, out of reach, giving space.

His spark skipped a beat.

“Anytime Prowl.”

Chapter Text

“Nothing ever pleases you does it?!”

“Nothing you ever do!”

“You’re such a fragging liar Prowl! Why can’t you just for once talk with us like a normal person, for once!”

“That would imply that you were smart enough to understand that!”

They were yelling at each other, again.

Bonecrusher, like always, rose to the occasion as Prowl had beaten down their door, armed with multiple reports of their misdeeds as well as his own raging feelings. But this time Bonecrusher had retaliated with how they wee going stir crazy and how the other Autobots weren’t treating them fairly.

And how Prowl was doing the exact same thing. Prowl had exploded at that, despite it being true.

Scavenger had upped and left the moment Hook had gotten involved, something all of them were thankful for even if he still felt the feedback over the bond. No one seemed to enjoy his tears.

“By the Allspark would you two give it a rest! Prowl just shut up already!” Mixmaster shouted and got up in the Autobot’s face, denta bared dangerously.

“You don’t get to tell me to shut up, you’re nothing but a psychotic maniac!” Mixmaster reeled backwards, hurt flashing across his face. Bonecrusher came up behind him, looking every type of pissed off. There was a dangerous gleam to his eyes, his body was set like a spring, ready to pounce.

There would be no punching the wall today if Prowl kept that up.

“Call him that one more time, see what happens” Bonecrusher said in a low tone, effortlessly shifting from frustrated yelling to an actually threat.

Prowl did not back down.

Long Haul quickly pushed his way between them, managing to make both Mixmaster and Bonecrusher take a step back but not daring to touch the small Autobot, who would definitely respond with violence. But even he gave Prowl a dirty look.

“I think we need to stop this before someone takes it too far.” He said steadily. Hook scoffed somewhere from the far wall.

“Oh yes, because we’re the ones causing a problem.” He said in the driest tone manageable. Prowl bristled.

 “And just what is that supposed to mean!?” He shouted voice cracking, daring him to say what hung in the air. The next bared truth that would set him off. Long Haul shot Hook a look. Don’t do it.

Hook did not acknowledge it.

“Do you want me to lie to protect those delicate feelings of yours?” He asked mockingly and Prowl took a step towards him, armor flaring. Long Haul followed him, blocking him off.

“That’s enough.” He tried again but once more it feel on deaf ears.

Bonecrusher as well stepped between the enforcer and the medic, looking like he meant to be backup for Long Haul but they all knew that if anyone was going to throw punches it wouldn’t be Long Haul.

“Come on Prowl, it’s hardly a secret why you’re so angry with us everytime you feel a hint of affection. What that Chromedome did to you was –“

“Shut up!” Prowl roared, literally charging forward and if Long Haul hadn’t finally physically stopped him, he would surely have decked the medic. Instead, he punched Long Haul backwards, hard. There was the sounds of fans clicking on.

He kept punching at Long Haul, the dumptruck managing to block each hit but something was about to give.

Bonecrusher took in the look on Prowl’s face, anger dulling down. No, this wasn’t right.

Still Hook continued on.

“-horrible, and then there was your failed relationship with Mesothulas, if one can even call it that. Then there’s basically every Autobot ever, who despite you working hard to keep them alive, meet you with hostility and downright hate.” He was cold as he spoke, it sounded more like he was giving a report, something Prowl was familiar with but right now it made his tanks turn sickening.

“Hook you better shut you pit spawned mouth right now before i come over there and shut it for you!” He roared again and Long Haul barely caught him as he leap to get to the medic.

He was gonna kill him.

He would shut him up so he couldn’t tell him all his failures to his face.

All of the many, many failures that he couldn’t look in the eye.

His vents was coming out in short huffs and his vision was slightly funnelled.

He was going to kill him.

“Bumblebee, Jazz, Optimus, Kup, mechs supposed to be your friends. Mechs you care about, because we know you care.”

“I don’t.” Prowl defended stiffly and Hook laughed drily.

“You care so much , it’s visible from outer space Prowl! And then they don’t even come to your rescue when you need them!” There was another huff of disbelief, another stray feeling of something hurt, something bleeding.

Stop.

Bonechruser recoiled.

He saw the shiny gleam of coolant gathering in his optics. He felt his own optics well up as well.

 “Stop. Hook, that’s enough.” He tried, Long Haul looked at him in alarm, picking up on his sudden want to stop the fight. Distress for pushing too far pulsed across the bond, and then a strange hollow, endless sadness from a spark that rarely joined theirs.

“It’s no wonder you’re angry Prowl, but we’re not the ones you should be angry with. Don’t you see? We can take this entire thing and turn it around, let us in, we can give you want you want. We care about you, we want you and we will come for you.” There was a softness at the end there, not that Prowl seemed to hear it. He looked murderous. He looked like he would explode.

He looked wounded.

 “I hate you.” Softly spoken, a wall between them. Hurt, so very hurt.

“I hate you so fragging much, this is why i don’t want you in my head! You’re taking my thoughts, my feelings, and you’re using them against me! And now you’re also trying to make me a traitor! If I could I would leave, I hate being here and i don’t want nothing to do with you! You’re the worst! I wish i had been incompatible, I wish I had just offlined when they forced me to be with you.” Prowl stepped backwards, unable to charge with anger, giving up on violence. He was not fit for an assault like this, not with so many unstable emotions.

Drowning, he sounded like he was drowning.

Pit.

Bonecrusher tried to reach for him but he kept backing up.

“I envy Scrapper for getting out of this blasted nightmare!”

The room rang quiet.

Somehow, no matter what Hook had stated, none of them, not even Prowl, had expected that to be the next thing to come out.

Bonecrusher looked him in the eyes, his vents almost gone. He was met with nothing but a cold, distant glare. One that pierced his very spark, right where Scrapper used to be.

Oh, Scrapper.

He hadn’t even realised at first that the hiccupping came from him. Only barely registeret the wetness on his face. Big hands cupped his eyes as they stung and fell backwards into Long Haul.

Prowl’s eyes widened.

His frame shock, temperature suddenly dropping several degrees.

Why did he say that?

The first wail cut him to his core. He gasped for air as the feedback nearly knocked him over. Bonecrusher refused to look up. The normally invincible warrior wailing helplessly as Long Haul held him close. Mixmaster came up at the bulldozer cried, running his hands up and down the other’s frame, pushing closer until Crusher finally grabbed onto him and buried himself in his bondmate.

“You need to leave. Right now.” Long Haul warned, his optics narrowing dangerously behind his visor. But prowl could hardly look away. Hook had gone quiet, a waver of guilt made itself known before Prowl tried to cut off from the bond. Clenching down hard on the thing to stop the onslaught of feelings rushing his way.

Bonecrusher wailed even louder at that. The empty spot inside them making itself known even more.

Long Haul gave an angry groan before rushing forward and shoving Prowl backwards.

“You need to leave. Right now.” Last warning. But even with the large ex-con up in his face, fist clenched and looking every type of pissed off, Prowl could barely look away from his crying bondmate behind him.

Unfreezing for even a nanosecond he managed to inch backwards another step. His vent stalled, he felt like he was drawing away from the only air he could ever truly breathe.

The realisation stung.

And then he turned on his heel.

And he ran.

Chapter Text

It was impossible.

Throwing down yet another datapad on his desk, already littered with half-finished reports and work which he had given up on, Prowl let out a frustrated growl. 

He couldn’t concentrate.

At all.

No matter what he tried, no matter how many times he schooled himself into concentration, trying every tactic and trick he knew that always helped him get back into the flow. Nothing succeeded. Every time he tried, he found himself drifting back into his head not even a moment later. His battlecomputer was a mess, trying to make up actual strategies but never being allowed to finish or even going as far as trying to solve the current problem.

The current problem being, that his unit, gestalt, bonded...

He grimaced.

...Were completely avoiding him.

Not that he blamed them, yeah they said some pretty bad things to him. But he legit told them he would rather be dead than be with them. Told them he was jealous of their dead commander, who they were still grieving over.

Way to fuck it up Prowl.

He regretted yelling, regretted punching Long Haul who, as always, tried to make them all see reason, regretted, no, hated how Bonecrusher’s face had scrunched up in pain as he had started to cry. Pain that Prowl had inflicted. The wailing was probably something he wished he would never hear again.

So why not just continue on? His problem was finally gone; they were leaving him alone. If only it was so easy.

The thoughts kept pushing, demanding attention. Demanding that he figured out a solution. The only solution was of course to go apologies...or he could also just hide out in his office forever…

No, the only real solution was to go apologies.

But every time he stood up to do just that, he only managed to round his desk before promptly getting back to his chair and sitting down. There were so many reasons why he couldn’t just apologize. He hadn’t made anything easy on them, he had wanted to hurt them when they fought, he had wanted to distance himself, he had wanted to leave them behind. They had good reason to be upset with him, he figured, but…

He wasn’t the only one at fault. Forcing on him something he wanted nothing to do with, demanding that he would give in to them. And then with what Hook had said. They had hurt him too… to think he was so easily hurt but something so ridiculous…

but he was.

Hook had been right, spot on, and it had hurt to hear it said out loud.

He didn’t want to trust, he was so used to having to take care of himself and everyone around him and it had made a part of him very, very cold to know that no one would come for him if he needed it. He didn’t want it to affect him, he wanted to carry on as he always had.

Strong.

Now he didn’t know if he was as strong as he had thought he was...

He groaned and pushed the offending datapads onto the floor, just needing to clear the table, clear his head. 

It didn’t help.

He palmed his face tiredly, his internal systems reminding him that he had recharged poorly and not nearly enough over the last few days. And that he was of course, running low on fuel.

It had been a week. There had been no sign of them anywhere, the only reason he knew they were still on base was because there were still, albeit slowly, ticking reports in about them. For such a bunch of large warframes they could be quite stealthy when they wanted to apparently.

But no one brought him fuel, no one came to chat or bother him, or drag him from his office. Had he really become that dependent over such a small span of time?

Slamming his hands into the desk he stood up.

Enough of this, just go do it and get it over with.

He rounded his desk, finally making it all the way to the door and-

“Scavenger?” 

As the door opened the Constructicon on the other side made a small jump, apparently just as nervous as Prowl felt. Scavenger looked surprised, his hand still in the air as if he had been about to knock and Prowl couldn’t help but feel… glad.

Glad to see him, relieved that he still sought him out.

But something cold and clammy overtook the short-lived joy.

The excavator lowered his hand, his other taking hold of it as he fumbled with his own digits. The quietness was deafening but even so it was hard to know what to say. Prowl let his eyes fall to the ground, was there anything he could say? Maybe Scavenger was here to tell him that it was done, they would leave. That the others had had enough of him and his sour moods.

He swallowed around the clump in his throat. What could he say?

But luckily awkward silence didn’t seem to be a problem for Scavenger.

“Hi.” He said gently, his face giving nothing away but worry.

“So… I don’t really know about you, but it’s been some rough last few days.” It was a start, not really giving away what he was here for but with the way he looked at Prowl, waiting, it helped him take a steadying breath.

“Yeah, it has.”

Scavenger softened, yeah it had been rough on all of them. He finally seemed to take the enforcer in. Prowl was tired, it radiated off of him, clinging to his EM field, and as he dared a peek into the office, eyeing the fallen datapads, he knew Prowl was not in his best shape.

“I wanted to see how you were doing.” He stated. A tiny bit of worry in Prowl’s chest seemingly disappeared, not all of it, but at least Scavenger still cared enough to come to check on him. And so far it didn’t seem like he had much other motive for being here.

Another easy breath.

Prowl didn’t exactly know what to say, if he should be honest after how he had treated them? Dare to admit that he had missed them and that he couldn’t recharge and forgot to refuel without them.

No, that’s too much.

Instead he said nothing.

Scavenger waited, he gave him plenty time to answer but apparently today was not the day. He pulled at his digits absently.

“Have you had your energon yet?” 

A dry chuckle.

“You know i haven’t.”

Another chuckle but somehow lighter.

"Yeah I know." 

They stared at each other. A moment, a breath, something soft pushing at the bond and then Scavenger reached out and grabbed his hand. Prowl nearly gave a start, looking down as the mech intertwined their digits, he looked nervous and his grip was loose, as if he expected Prowl to let go. Not that he didn’t think about it, he really, really should let go. He was already farther down this hole than he wanted to be. 

So just stay or cut them loose.

Make a choice.

But somehow, as Scavenger fumbled with his hand, turning it and stroking it to calm his own nervous energy, something seemed to make sense, something in that simple touch, clicked. Prowl leaned into it. Letting his field touch Scavenger’s and just the tiniest bit, just a breath, let the clamp on the bond loosen. He took a hold of the servo and held on, just strong enough to be there but still loose as if he was unsure if he was still welcome, telling the other mech that he still didn't know what to feel.

Scavenger starred wide-eyed at him, then he smiled. The smile Prowl loved to see on the mech.

And then words seemed to come easier.

“I’m sorry.”

“We are too.”

“I’m not very good at these things.”

A laugh, short and bright.

“We figured.”

Prowl eyed him with a look but a small tingle of amusement told the mech he was in no trouble for saying that. The thought of having to face the rest of the gestalt… that made the amusement turn sour. Scavenger gave his hand a squeeze.

“Just do it like that.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“I do.”

There was a beat of silence as Scavenger seemed to phrase his next words, nervousness being replaced by something more hopeful, a solution. Prowl could feel his battle computer still in anticipation as he waited.

“Actually. I was going to get fuel for the other’s, I mean I’m early because normally it takes two to carry the rations, so the others don’t know I’m here, but I figured… maybe you could help me with it… and then we could all fuel together?”

Together, being forced to talk it out. Who would have guessed, Scavenger was a sneaking little ex-con.

Somehow the enforcer couldn’t help the tiniest of smiles from stretching on his lips. Leave it to Scavenger to somehow find a fix to this mess that allowed him to keep just a smidgen of his pride.

The walk to get the rations had been easy, people had eyed him and Scavenger strangely and he wondered briefly if the gestalt was used to the looks. He barely noticed it anymore when others gave him the stink eye but he couldn't imagine the Autobots had taken very kindly to the ex-cons.

As he thought about it, there were a lot of everyday things he didn't know, he had never really considered asking.

The walk to the Construction's quarters was… harder and he thought multiple times about turning back. If Scavenger hadn't been ahead of him, chatting mindlessly about everything and nothing, he might have. 

When they finally reached the door, he didn't know if he could do it, there was a lump in this throat and his tank was overflowing with unease.

But then Scavenger looked back at him, the excavator took a deep, visible breath and Prowl found himself doing the same.

"Alright just say you're sorry, everything will be okay, you'll see." He smiled, like he truly believed that and for once Prowl trusted his judgement more than his own, the one telling him this was a mistake. And then the Constructicon just waltzed right in, picking back up on his chatter and now somehow aiming it at their bondmates without pause. Prowl followed him less enthusiastically.

And then Hook looked up, and the entire room froze. 

Well except for Scavenger who pretended nothing was out of place. 

It was strangely intimidating how suddenly, at the wink of one’s senses everyone was alerted. The Constructions were huddled together on their shared berth, Hook was reading and the others had apparently been in the middle of talking. 

Now everyone was staring at him.

Mixmaster gave Scavenger a dirty look but the excavator ignored it and made himself comfortable next to Hook, sharing the fuel he had with him with Long Haul and Mix. Prowl swallowed around nothing and stepped further in, looking anywhere than at Bonecrusher, who seemed strangely relaxed.

“What is he doing here?” Mixmaster was the first to speak, baring his denta at the enforcer. Prowl looked at him shortly before deciding to observe the sidewall with great interest, not noticing the way Long Haul elbowed the chemist. 

“Well I…” What to say? He drew blanks and he tried discreetly to glance at Scavenger who gave him a wide-eyed, anticipating look. Just say it like you did with me.

“Listen, I’m not… well.” He wanted to bare his teeth in frustration, why was it so hard to say? Was it because of all the eyes staring at him? Because he was having to admit he was wrong? Embarrassment and anger flared up right under his plating. Humiliating.

No, stop, keep a cool head, this isn’t about your pride.

He dared a look at them. They weren’t saying anything, seemingly just waiting. Even Mixmaster had wiped the snarl from his face. They looked like they actually wanted to hear him say it. But not because they took pleasure in it.

He could deal with that.

“I’m sorry.” Fast, quick, not enough.

“I didn’t mean to say all that i did, i just… got really angry and…I wanted to hurt you so you would back off, but...” Hesitation, a shimmer of true vulnerability.

“But?” Hook leaned forward, a brow raised ever so slightly.

“Not like that, I know it was an… awful thing to say to you.” Prowl drew a breath, forcing himself forward towards the unit and stopping right before Bonecrusher. There was a skip of a beat where he eyed them, wondering if he was still allowed this close, but no one made a move.

So he extended the first cube of energon, and he waited.

“You shouldn’t have said that.” Bonecrusher agreed and looked at the offered fuel for a moment longer before gingerly reaching out and taking hold, swiping a digit over Prowl’s knuckles in acknowledgement. 

“I know.”

“But we shouldn’t have said all of that other stuff either.” Long Haul piped up, looking over at Hook who couldn’t meet his eyes. Prowl was still angry, still hurt, but looking at Hook he knew he wasn’t the only one regretting what he had said.

“You shouldn’t have.” He agreed, just like Bonecrusher and then he reached out for the medic with the last fuel. His visor was full of surprise as he took it, cautious, calculating. Then something light, a smile. He took a sip to hide it but Prowl had seen.

“But you’re here?”

“Yeah” He glanced back at Scavenger who gave him such a bright smile he couldn’t help but let one settle on his own face, albeit much smaller.

“It’s been a few rough days.” He finished and that seemed to do it. Every mech in the room just… sat back, releasing the tension that had gathered when the enforcer first had entered the room. Prowl took a sip from his fuel.

His eyes landed on Mixmaster and it made his smile drop.

The look the chemist gave him was cold and yeah the others were relaxed again, but there was still a small pulse of hurt flowing over the bond.

It wasn’t enough

But it was a start and he could do this.

He’d made his choice.

Chapter Text

He had been staring at the ceiling for several groons, shuttering his optics off just to shutter them back on, his visor flicking on and off accordingly casting the room in a strange red light every now and again. Scavenger was pressed into his side, the rest of the Constructicons draped loosely over each other next to them, snoring and rumbling into the dark.

Bonecrusher would spend most of his time when he couldn’t recharge watching them, chasing away fearful thoughts and the last scattered pieces of nightmares as he studied their faces and felt their sparks pulse in tandem. It was peaceful, something he usually wasn’t too fond of, but with the gestalt, everything was different. Anger turned to joy, fear turned to play and hard edges turned soft.

The gentle whoosh of the door opening made him jerk towards it, almost jolting Scavenger off of him but his arm around the smaller mech managed to keep him mostly still. Still he activated his nightvision.

Not that he needed it much. Fear and anger immediately vanished as two bright, cyan eyes peered back through the dark at him.

“Prowl?”

A sigh. He had definitely hoped they were all recharging. Still surprise lingered. And a tiny bit of hope.

Stepping in gingerly the enforcer closed the door behind him before starting towards the berth. “Yeah.” He said simply, he sounded tired.

In a few quick strides he was in front of the others, one awake, four blissfully unaware. He seemed to hesitate as the visor’s red light shone on him. He looked exhausted, like he had been twisting and turning for just as long as Bonecrusher had, and yet he still looked beautiful. Bonecrusher allowed himself a small smile as he looked the Autobot over, they had been lucky with Prowl, body, mind and spark. And they would fight for him even if it meant fighting him as much as they did right now.

Another sigh and the Praxian seemed to have made up his mind.

“Scoot” he said before climbing onto the berth. Bonecrusher nearly did a double take and pushed Scavenger closer to Hook so he could allow the smallest ‘constructicon’ to join them, he nearly chuckled at the thought. Prowl laid himself down on his other arm, back pressed into his side and doorwings turned down so as to not get caught.

The Praxian sighed delightedly as he got settled and Bonecrusher couldn’t help himself from letting go of Scavenger and roll onto his side so he could bring the other arm around the narrow waist in front of him. To his surprise Prowl let him, he didn’t just let him, he laid his own servo over his and pressed as close as he could. The sound of turning and metal against metal told him that Scavenger had found someone else to cling to. Good, the excavator didn’t like recharging without having a hold on someone.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The ex-con asked, not quite understanding why Prowl was here in the first place.

“Something like that.” He whispered back and Crusher brought his lips down to his helmet, he always sounded tired but not like this . Not like he hadn’t recharged in days. Prowl nuzzled into the movement and for a moment it felt like he might turn around. Might return the affection.

He was acting slightly odd, Bonecrusher noted. But then again he had been acting off ever since he had seen him cry.

“Why are you here tho?” Bonecrusher asked when he didn’t continue, it still felt surreal to him that he was here at all, unprompted and by his own accord. In his arms. It made a warm feeling spread around his spark.

A nano-click passed, then another and the con had almost resigned himself to not getting an answer when a tiny voice replied. “Didn’t want to recharge alone.” Honest, vulnerable. Something was changing.

The feeling of warmth spread. And this time the larger mech gave a pleased hum in reply.

They laid like that for a small while, just being, until Prowl spoke up again.

“You were awake when i got here, are you alright?” The question sounded weird coming from the small Autobot, not a question that seemed to belong to someone like Prowl. It was out of place for his character, too soft, not something he had ever really asked any of them. And it was then that he realized that it was out of Prowl’s character, not something such a logical mech would normally ask, and certainly not just anyone, and at the same time he realized that Prowl was trying .

Was he alright? He didn’t know what to say, he was going to be honest. But how would he explain it well? He didn’t want to overwhelm the mech, have him run away like he did before, or anytime feelings were out in the open. But he would never get anywhere if he hid it from the enforcer either. 

He decided to face honesty with honesty, Prowl could run if he wanted, because clearly he would come back.

“I’m fine, I just have trouble sleeping some nights. Sometimes I feel restless, other times I think about the things that’s been happening, I get quite a few nightmares too.” He admitted, keeping it simple as he hooked a leg over Prowl’s.

Prowl hummed along. He seemed to hesitate again.

Hard edges turn soft.

“What about?” He asked slowly, unsure. Unsure if he was overstepping boundaries or if he actually wanted to know Bonecrusher couldn’t tell. But one thing he figured right away.

Prowl wanted to be closer.

He wanted to know why he got scared, share his fear and comfort. He really was trying.

A tickling sense of pride ran down his spine.

“Lots of things, mostly any of the others getting hurt, not being able to save them. Not being able to save you.” Prowl visibly shrunk at the words. “I think about Scrapper a lot, the empty spot where he used to be, I wonder if he’s waiting for us. I think about the human that killed him.” He went on, the pain of losing Scrapper evident in his voice, pushing is his field. Still he was calm, still he was alright.

“There’s been more than a few nightmares about you too lately, you walking away, betraying us, never caring as much as we do.” He said with a sigh, this was the tough part, admitting the hurt, the fear, laying it out for Prowl to see. He had so much power over them and he terrified and excited them so. They could be great if he let them but he could also tear them all to shreds.

And if he decided to never want them, not even tolerate them, there was nothing they could do to fill the emptiness inside them.

One thing was knowing it, hearing it was completely different.

Prowl didn’t answer, what could he say? It was a fact and still so very unstable. Still could very well happen. 

Still he clutched the hand on his waist, intertwined their digits. Something that felt like a promise but wasn’t ready to be spoken yet.

And that was enough.

Bone crusher sighed and in return he leaned on over and kissed the Praxian on the cheek.

There was no yelling, no fuss but the supple blush  also didn't go unnoticed.

A chuckle followed by a sigh of resignation.  

Arms tensed momentarily, legs going stiff and Prowl yelped as he was suddenly lifted, turning with Bonecrusher as he flopped onto his other side, bringing Prowl into the pile of sleeping mechs. The black and white mech landed gently in the small space between Crusher and Scavenger, or rather he ended up half in over the smaller bot as there wasn’t quite enough room.

Bonecrusher gave a low rumbled laugh, Prowl grumbled irritated under his breath.

And Scavenger stirred ever so slightly.

“What’s wrong Crush?” He didn’t even shutter on his optics, his visor remaining dark. He sounded so far gone, so content and Prowl wanted to stay quiet so he could drift back into recharge.

Bonecrusher had another idea though.

“Prowl’s here” He said with a warm rumble. There only went half a second before realization to set in.

“Prowl’s here!?” Scavenger shouted, causing a groan from the other three as he turned around, arms outstretched and visor flickering on and off as he tiredly latched himself onto the Praxian who sent a glare up at the mech behind him. Only to have him nuzzle down into him.

The rest of the gestalt glanced up and blue optics met red. Fear tickled the air but...They smiled.

They smiled so softly.

He was back.

His spark tumbled in it’s chamber.

He smiled back.

Arms wrapped around Scavenger and more warm frames pressed closer, someone draped themselves over the others in retaliation for not getting a close enough spot. Someone chuckled. He felt wandering hands on his frame. He let them and they settled.

Rumbling purrs echoed in the dark. Visors turning off, one by one.

Glancing up he saw a darkened visor.

Well, looks like they would all recharge tonight after all. He shuttered his own optics and felt the pulse behind the clamp on the bond. He released his grip on it a tiny bit more and fell into recharge with a content sigh.

Chapter Text

The base was still quiet. It was still early and the sun had just risen up over the horizon, bathing the ground below in a warm golden light. It was serene.

And absolutely perfect.

Long Haul dared not to move, only the tiniest of exhales left him as he stared down at the still sleeping bodies next to him. Hook laid right up against him, his own large hand curled securely around the medic’s middel, digits ever so slightly caressing the metal as a way of reminding himself that, yes, this was actually real, he was not dreaming.

Crusher, as always, made up the other side of their pile, his head laying lower than normal as his exhales came out over a slender neck. Mix had thrown himself over all of them in protest, currently splaying his legs over Long Haul’s hip as his head rested against black and white plating.

At the group’s middel, and the current fixation of one awestruck dumptruck, laid Scavenger and Prowl. Both securely wrapped around each other. Scavenger slept soundly against Prowl’s chest and the tactician himself had started using the excavator as a headrest as he had gotten comfortable throughout the night. A tiny bit of Long Haul felt that he should feel jealous of Scavenger, but he wasn’t.

In fact, he hadn’t felt this amount of relief and happiness since...Scrapper, that thought hurt less than last time... for a long time. He would get his chance at cuddling with their boss, for now he was more than content with looking at his gestalt wrapped around each other.

Long Haul wanted to reach out, run his fingers over the Praxian’s helmet, against his cheek. Feel if he was cool to the touch or if he was warm after laying with them for so long. Prowl had a completely different look to him while asleep, Long Haul noted.

While awake there was always a power to him, an anger right under the surface that, combined with his brilliant mind, made him a force to be reckoned with. A foe without mercy. He was powerful, frightening and undeniably hot.

He didn’t look like that at all as he recharged.

While it wasn’t the first time he had recharged with them, it was the first time Long Haul had the opportunity to really look at him and Prowl looked... calm.

At peace.

Beautiful.

Like the sharp features had been stripped of all the underlying hatred and anger, and what was left was this beautiful creature, reserved only for them. He looked like a normal bot, not someone with thousands of lives on his shoulders. And Long Haul couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like in more domesticated situations.

What was his favorite type of energon?

What kind of drunk was he?

What kind of vids would he like?

Would he like playing games with them and would he be a sour loser?

What does he look like when he laughs?

Long Haul felt his tank stall as he imagined the Praxian in a fit of laughter. What would it take to make him laugh? What would make the tactician laugh so hard that he would hold his sides? Would Prowl allow him to support him? Would he get mad if he went ahead and swept him up like he had imagined so many times before?

Would he like it?

Long Haul went completely still as the object of his fantasies shifted slightly, a gasp of air left the police car. Prowl’s arms tightened slightly and Long haul could faintly feel a sense of content spread through his spark. Mix’s head fell lower with the motion, into a position that Long Haul knew would be uncomfortable.

Not taking his eyes off the police car, carefully watching his face, Long Haul reached over to where he could reach the chemist’s waist, and ever so slightly he maneuvered the other into a more slanted position so he could rest against Scavenger’s back. He moved his hand to his face to tilt it down to rest.

He nearly had him in a comfortable position when he felt the cool metal of Mix’s face nuzzle into his hand. Finally moving his eyes from Prowl and down to Mix, he saw his favorite moment unfold.

There was a slight breath, and then his lips found the metal of the hand. Then the red light of his eyes reflected on the metal. Long Haul let his hand skim the features of the other’s face. And then Mix turned back towards him, and their eyes landed on each other.

There were no words that could describe the feeling so deep in his core as they looked at each other. Mix felt it as well, they all felt it when they saw each other in these situations. It was like coming home.

They both released a breath, letting a smile grace their lips as they greeted each other. Mix stared at him for a moment and Long Haul felt the resonation of his love deep within his spark.

After a moment Mix seemed to perk up and excitement followed as he turned around. And then he giggled, looking back at Long Haul who could only smile and nod as they turned back to look at the black and white addition to their pile.

He wasn’t even surprised when he felt Hook stretch beside him, then he felt the medic reach up and kiss the side of his jaw. The dumptruck couldn’t help the grin on his face after that or stop himself from returning one to right above his eyes. He felt Hook let out a deep vent and held him closer.

He saw Scavenger perk up excited, felt the glee, for once not talking the minute he came online. Perhaps he was afraid that he would wake up Prowl, Long Haul couldn’t blame him. They all would like this moment to last for just a little while longer.

Mix couldn’t help himself though, and they all watched Prowl anxiously as the chemist wrapped his arms around the excavator’s middle and buried his face in his side, forcing a small giggle from him as Scav tried to swat him away but there was no real force behind it.

There was a displeased sound from Prowl and for a moment Long Haul watched for those bright cyan eyes to come online and glare at them. But then the Autobot turned from Scav’s arms, the smaller constructicon carefully letting him go, and pushed his way into Crusher’s. The bulldozer somehow managed to curl himself completely around the smaller bot automatically and Long Haul couldn’t help but admire how cute they looked like that.

Surely both of them would deactivate him if he told them that, but he was sure that image would stay in his spark for a long, long time. Bonecrusher was always one to sleep in if allowed to and it would seem that their terrifying leader was too. A huff of amusement left Hook and Hauler knew he thought the exact same.

Still trying to be quiet, Scavenger started to direct Mix off the bed, the chemist gladly following and the moment they had the opportunity without waking up the remaining gestalt, Mix picked up the smallest of them and spun him around joyfully. Scavenger was clearly trying not to laugh as Mix held him close, usually mornings weren’t quite as playful but the good mood was contagious it seemed.

Scav was quick to grab his hand as he was put down and the two of them pointed at the door, signalling that they would go get their rations.

Long Haul moved himself and Hook closer to the other two, determined to stretch the moment out for as long as he could.

They laid for a while looking at them.

Then Crusher came online.

Had it been another situation Long Haul would have laughed at the wide range of emotions on the bulldozer’s face. First calm contentment, then shock, then panick as he tensed up, trying not to move.... or breathe. Then he looked over at him and Hook, who were not very subtly, trying not to laugh.

He shot them a dirty look before movement made him look down. And then he stared. Just like Long Haul had been doing since he woke up. The adoration and relief was clear, even without their bond. Hook reached out a hand and gently ran his fingers down Prowl’s back before moving them back up again, careful not to touch the doorwings, but still skimming the lighter metal in between.

Prowl gave a sigh, pushing slightly into the touch before he stilled and then, cyan eyes came online. There was a moment, where they all held completely still, a complete sync. While Long Haul couldn’t see his face he could tell what was going on from the slight reverb in his spark, the way his doorwings tilted and the slight lean in his body. Content, warm, safe.

Time seemed to resume as those captivating eyes scanned the room, no doubt reminding the enforcer where he was. His doorwings twisted a bit and Hook continued his gentle caress. There was a tiny bit of a sour feeling, a feeling of being too close but other than that he didn’t seem agitated. So far so good.

There was a moment, where he no doubt looked up at Crusher, still in his arms, still a bit uncertain. Crusher had loosened his grip and Prowl laid a hand on his chest, patting the metal before pushing himself back and away from the other.

Hook also removed his hand, quickly sitting up and stretching his arms above his head, in a too showy to be casual way, before moving off the bed. It left more room for Prowl to find himself in. Long Haul too sat up, looking over at Bonecrusher as he skimmed the room obviously searching for the missing two.

“Scavenger and Mix have gone to get our energon, they should be back very soon.” Crusher made a sound of understanding before not so subtly going back to staring at Prowl, who was trying to look like he wasn’t even a little unnerved at all the people around him this early. Long Haul flashed him a small smile when he looked his way and the way he returned it, albeit slowly, made his tank flutter in hope.

Long Haul wondered how long it would take for Prowl to feel like he came home.

He hoped it would be soon.

Chapter Text

It was of course, not just that easy, making up never really was in Prowl’s opinion. But it was a start and they were all back on speaking terms. However...

“What do you mean you’re not moving in!?”

“Exactly that. I’m not moving into your barrack.” Prowl was the very picture of stoicness. Carefully reading over his work. He was determined not to be bothered by the way Bonecrusher was leaning threateningly over his desk, glaring daggers and huffing in pure frustration.

“Oh, I swear to Primus, why must everything with you be a ‘one step forward, two back’, progress!” He threw his hands up in defeat, knowing that he couldn’t throw punches but needing something to deal with the excess energy. Prowl tried not to wince at that, there was no need to be rude.

“Crusher stop acting like a sparkling, if Prowl doesn’t want to move into the barrack it’s not a big deal.” Long Haul chimed in from his normal spot next to Prowl’s desk. He sent Bonecrusher a not so subtle look to mind his manners. Not that Crusher seemed to care.

“Oh so now you’re supporting this? Weren’t you the one crying about wanting to hold him, not even a groon ago?” That seemed to effectively shut up the larger warframe, who suddenly refused to look at Prowl, he could do little to mask the way embarrassment made his face heat up. Prowl wanted to snap Bonecrusher in half for that comment. How dare he embarrass Long Haul like that. Luckily he didn’t have to raise his voice before someone else beat him to it.

“Crusher, would you shut your trap. It’s not our choice to make, so stop your whining, it’s obnoxious.” Hook growled agitated. Even going as far as punching the bulldozer’s arm so it dented. Crusher just stared coolly at him, betrayal clear on his face.

“Not you too Hook! Mix! Scav! What do you think of this?!” Turning to the two in question, Prowl was not surprised to see Mix glaring at him again. He seemed to do that a lot lately and then with the flip of a switch he was all over the enforcer. Not right now though, definitely not right now.

“I think you should just move in, it’s much better like that!” He said as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Okay so we’re tied, Scav has the final vote” Crusher declared strongly, crossing his arms expectedly as he stared down Scavenger. The smaller constructicon suddenly looked a bit nervous, eyeing every person in the room with unease. 

“Hold on this is not up for voti- “ Prowl felt a hand gently stroke his shoulder. Long Haul shook his head and Prowl actually felt a little bit better at the slight reassurance. He had both Hook’s and Hauler’s support, the argument was pretty much won already, and even if it wasn't he was still the boss. There was no need for him to feed into this. 

Scavenger put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to escalate the situation further, and again Prowl found that he disliked the nervousness on the other’s face. He smiled reassuringly, instantly catching the excavator’s eyes. Prowl took no small pleasure seeing how Scav’s shoulders sank back to a neutral position, the unease leaving him steadily.

“You will still sleep over sometimes right?” The way it was said, made it more sound like a request than a bargaining chip. Prowl couldn’t help an amused huff.

“...I can do that.” He answered honestly, he really didn’t mind that, especially if he continued to recharge poorly without them. He just wanted to slow things down a bit, it still felt like they were too fast, too close.

Scavenger smiled at him nonetheless. “I mean Hauler and Hook are right, it’s not our choice, but if we still can have sleepovers then I don't see a problem at all.”

“Are you all kidding me!?” Crusher was anything but pleased with any of that, and for a moment Prowl could see the sparkling analogy in full form as he literally stomped his leg. Mixmaster came up behind him, patting his arm in solidarity, before scowling at the rest of them. 

Again a silent conversation seemed to take place, but this time Prowl could feel the slight resonate in his own core. The two were not happy with him, at all. But it wasn’t that they were directly mad at him, it stemmed from something deeper...he realized that they were scared. Probably scared that he wouldn’t come any closer.

But they were not particularly happy with the rest of them either. Someone, Hook he realized, shot disapproval at them, the closest thing he could to tell them to grow up without actually saying anything and in less than a beat later, both Mixmaster and Bonecrusher had left the office.

Prowl hadn’t noticed that he had been staring after them until Hook spoke up.

“Don’t mind them, they get overexcited over the smallest of things and act like sparklings when they don’t get their way. It’s literally not a problem.” He reassured although making for the door himself. “I’ll have a talk with them so they’ll stop bothering you about this.”

“Oh I'll help!” Scavenger piped up, quickly running in front of Hook only to stop in his tracks and make his way back to Prowl. A blush was spread on his face as he came up beside him and Prowl dared not move under those hopeful eyes.

“I'll keep you to the sleepover promise.” He said as he leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on the enforcer’s cheek. Prowl barely had time to say anything before Scav was back by the door looking far too pleased with himself. Hook smirked like a wolf taking a step towards him and with the way Long Haul also suddenly seemed interested Prowl could easily see where this was going.

“Aw that’s sweet, do i get to have on-”

“Shouldn’t you be doing something?” The tactician cut him off immediately with the driest scowl imaginable. Although the blush on his own face betrayed him fully. Hook looked almost offended, then there was a telltale sign in the way his face changed, and then he was back to smirking. 

Prowl felt as if he had just started a game of some sort. He honestly wasn’t entirely sure.

“You always manage to weasel your way in everywhere don’t you, you lucky heap of scrap.” The medic cursed at Scavenger as he turned out the door. There was a warmth to his tone though, something that made it sound like it was a running gag.

Prowl groaned. “How come I get the feeling Scavenger is manipulating everybody into getting what he wants?” 

Long Haul laughed heartily beside him.

Chapter Text

Running pedes down the hall was the first thing that alerted him to something being wrong. The next was a sinking feeling in his spark, it felt like a large rock dropping to the bottom of a deep, deep river and it stopped him dead in his tracks. He had no idea how much he was going to hate being right.

The bright blue optics of a new recruit looked just as alarmed as Prowl felt.

“Sir, you better come quick.”

Then next thing he was aware of was his own harsh stomps down the hallway, unmistakable and menacing. The anger rose from his core like a beast, he had missed it, it felt familiar. The rage raced through his wires and circuits, making his processor spin faster as it imagined all the ways he could kill several bots and get away with it. 

The mech followed him, at a safe distance. Smart bot.

The closer he got the more he straightened up, his wings were set in a dangerously stiff line. He knew his face looked neutral beside his scowl, but his eyes, the fire behind them, was filled with hate.

The mechs blocking his way were quick to make way, a sea of spectators parting for him as he made his way into the rec room.

The room was a mess, it looked like an earthquake had struck but looking ahead at the smug faces of several mechs still wearing their Autobot badge, he knew that no, this was something worse. Hightower towered over his gestalt, who were on the floor, multiple enforcing Autobots holding them down.

He winced seeing Crusher and Mix in stasis cuffs. Their faces contorted in anger, especially Mix seemed to be bothered. He did well at looking furious but Prowl could see the underlining fear. The fear reflected in Crusher’s visor as he reacted to his bondmate’s distress, spurring him on and making him even more angry. The others had apparently decided not to fight back against the restrainment, instead Prowl felt waves of calm radiating from Hook, telling them to wait.

Wait for him, he realized.

His core picked up even further. His hands tightened into fists as he tried not to let his anger overtake him. Someone would pay for this.

“Hightower, what is the meaning of this!?” His voice dripped with venom as it boomed across the rest of the distance. The mech in question turned to him, mimicking his scowl.

Hightower was the newest addition to high command, a former Autobot, as they all were, known for his highly effective methods for clearing a battlezone. He was brutal, efficient and brilliant. He had come from off-world, being called back home to replace the several bots leaving command, after his many years of scouring the universe for energon and taking out establishing decepticon camps and colonies. Under normal circumstances Prowl figured he would have liked him, if not for one problem.

He was highly anti-decepticon.

Even after the news of the war ending, it seemed to have taken the commander a while to come back home. There was speculations, rumors. Nothing with actual proof. But going over the commander’s profile Prowl wouldn’t put nothing past him yet.

Prowl didn’t actually know what Optimus was thinking at this point... but he had a suspicion it had something to do with Hightower’s former position as an architect and constructor. It made his teeth grind for an unknown reason.

“Awfully quick for you to show up Prowl. In any case, we might get this underway then. Your brutes assaulted five of my officers Prowl. That one.” He pointed sharply at Bonecrusher and Prowl found himself stepping between them automatically. His wings raised in a dangerous display, truly betraying his intention. “-Sent two mechs to the medical wing! Your gestalt attacked my subordinates while they were getting their rations, what do you have to say about this.” Hightower surely hadn’t meant to, but as he carried on he too had gotten a threatening line to his form, like he was ready to fight. His tone had also risen, borderlining on yelling as he had gotten up in the enforcer’s face.

Prowl took a vent as he stared right back, not backing down.

“Well I have no doubt that this is the result of another episode of harassment. Episodes that have gone up after your unit arrived. I know you think the war is over, Hightower, but maybe you should tell your officers that so that they will stop bothering my team!” Hightower leaned in dangerously and Prowl had the vivid picture of biting him, fresh energon pouring from his face. He blinked, strange, not his usual line of thoughts, although tempting just to see the expression he would make.

Highly ill-advisable.

He felt a silver of disappointment.

“Harassment? Did you not hear me when I said that he put two mechs to the infirmary?!”

“Oh, I heard you just fine! But honestly what do you expect? That they take every piece of slag thrown at them!? You are smarter than that, none of us would and neither will they. You can’t actually be blind enough to not know about the harassment towards ex-cons going around, wake up!” Hightower’s scowl deepened and his teeth showed. There was a charge in the air, threatening to ignite. Prowl could feel plating tighten, servos that weren’t his flexing, ready to strike if he gave the order.

The commander let out a huff and stepped back, reeling in his anger. 

“Since you seem to know so much of what is going on Prowl, despite your… circumstances… how do you propose we solve this?” Prowl could feel an engine growl at the insult. His circumstances of course being the tight leash Optimus had on him after his series of ‘incidents’. He was lucky to still have his position, even if he was receiving more datawork and less fieldwork than he would like.

Then again Prowl would love to see Optimus rebuild Cybertron without him, or his gestalt.

Prowl had a feeling their leader was giving anyone with experience in construction a lot of leeway.

“By protocol of course. I will deal punishment to each offending party, investigate the source and have the participants work it out in the best manner.” There was a moment where the two stood and their eyes narrowed dangerously. Stepping away from each other, Prowl could tell Hightower was running calculations on him, just at he himself was, weighting pros and cons and sizing him up. ‘Two superior officers should try to get along’ the enforcers reminded himself. He would get back at him eventually, when less people were looking.

Prowl turned towards his gestalt, his eyes piercing enough to have the bots restraining them step back immediately. No one dared step forward to release Mix and Crusher from their cuffs. 

A raised hand stopped Long Haul from moving to help them.

“Congratulations, the whole lot of you are going to the brig, 2 joors. And then you can look forward to weapon maintenance, a whole deca-cycle. That will give you plenty of time to figure out how you want to apologize to the mechs you injured.” The team looked shocked, not prepared for an actual punishment. Multiple of them looked like they wanted to say something and anger ran along their bond, but Prowl had a point to make here.

“But Prowl we-” Hook started but the enforcer cut him off with a sneer.

“Hook, are you volunteering the team for armor maintenance as well?” The medic immediately shut his mouth and lowered his head.

“No sir.” Prowl knew he was being harsh, but he would not undermine the importance of this show.

He turned to Crusher, who was still on the floor. He looked pissed off but held still as his boss looked down at him.

“You will be confined to the brig every night for said deca-cycle.” He said pointedly, shocking the gestalt even more. He knew that one was just cruel but it was needed, he told himself. Turning towards the offenders he gave them a look that told them he knew exactly what went on. One of them had the decency to look ashamed. Good. 

“And you lot. You will first clean up this mess you caused, and refill the energon station. Then you will be reporting in for packing duty each morning, a whole deca-cycle. The delivery team has been falling behind. I'm sure they will appreciate your help. Each of you will also prepare an apology.”

With no final word to the commander, he gave the mechs behind him a sharp nod, enjoying seeing two of them scramble for cleaning supplies, the last one giving him a glare. That one was possibly going to be a problem. With the mechs who had restrained the Constructicons as an escort he made his way from the room with his gestalt. He let out an ex-vent, the disappointment radiating off of the team as clear as day but he would not go back on his punishment.

Having shown that he would not blink at punishing his own gestalt he knew, the next time something like this happened, he could interfere immediately. And even more importantly, he could punish the actual offender just as badly.

They would understand it in time.

He made his way from his office with confident strides. It had been a little over a day and the constructicons should be in the armory by now, well into their duties. 

They had been anything but happy when they found out that he was perfectly serious, and they were not getting out of their punishment. Hightower was watching them no doubt, waiting for Prowl to show any kindness, judging him for any weakness he might let slip. Prowl could feel the suspicions creeping up on him. How he wanted to punch the mech.

His legs carried him to the armory and despite the fact they were supposed to be punished, he found his team at least found some way to entertain themselves. He watched them from the door as Scavenger and Crusher told a very lively story to the others, no doubt something they had been there for.

He couldn’t help the tiny smile, one he quickly schooled back into a firm line.

Mix looked up at him, and he glared. It didn’t bother him as much as it usually did, this was for the best, they would understand. The rest fell silent, the story not even finished, but they didn’t object when he invited himself to join them. They watched him carefully as he picked up a rifle and a cleaning rag and sat down with them.

“So, who wants to tell me what happened?” He asked and began taking the rifle apart.

They all remained silent, a sour feeling spread in the depth of his core. He let out a sigh, irritation started but he would not allow himself to get angry right now. Stay professional, explain yourself and don’t get angry, he reminded himself.

“Alright I’ll start then. I know your punishment was more severe than the other’s. It was supposed to be.” He caught Hook and Hauler glancing carefully at him. Crusher refused to raise his head. 

“If I had shown favoritism, or been any less serious, how do you think it would go next time?” He asked honestly, looking up at each of them. Scavenger looked like he was thinking before quietly raising his hand.

“Then, they would be worse, that’s what it used to be like in the Decepticon ranks.”

“Exactly. The harassment would be worse because I would look like I have no control over you, proving that you’re brutes. Hightower would decide your punishment which would also be worse, and do you honestly think he will punish the other party as well? Because I’m pretty sure he won’t think twice about throwing you in the brig for a week and letting the actual glitches off the hook.” Prowl said seriously, prompting them to actually return his gaze. Mix grumbled under his breath but he seemed to understand.

“On that note, if it happens again people might just see that you’re not the initiator, and then I can actually do something about it.” Prowl continued, picking back up his task.

“I told you he didn’t mean anything by it.” Scav piped up and Mix sent him a glare. Looks like he himself wasn’t off the hook either.

“You could at least have removed the cuffs.” Crusher mumbled sourly from his spot next to the enforcer. Prowl had decided to remove Mix’s stasis cuffs but not Crusher’s. The guards were always wary of the brawler and the enforcer knew it would put them more at ease and the gestalt would of course defend Crusher if anything happened.

But also because...

“No, that was my personal punishment for you.” Prowl said, his tone steeled and optics harder. Crusher looked betrayed as he stared back at the tactician. “I already warned you before, stop getting into fights, and what did you do? You sent two mechs to the infirmary!” He growled and Crusher looked down at the weapon in his hands.

“Which is also why you’re currently recharging in the brig, you can’t take your anger out and punch a mech half to death because of a few petty words.” Prowl continued, Crusher looked like he wanted to say something, the words right on his glossa but he decided against it.

Prowl waited a moment, gauging their reaction. They seemed to have settled with the information he gave them, the sour feeling along the bonds had surely settled, if not still a bit irritated at all the work he had them doing.

“So who wants to tell me what happened at the rec room? I’ve already heard a few sides of the story but I’m looking forward to hearing what actually happened.” He snapped the rifle back into form and ran the rag over the smooth surface.

Again Crusher growled.

“Those slagging afts provoked us!” He defended as he angrily turned towards Prowl, finally being able to defend his actions. “Started saying all sorts of slag, called Hook a slum surgeon. Called Mix a maniac. One of them said a lot of slag about you, about you being corrupt! About not having a spark! And then the green one shoved Scav into the table! He asked for it!” Scav ran a comforting servo over the brawler’s arm, soothing the charge building there and prompting his plating to lay back down.

So he was right. Prowl had thought it was probably something like that that had started it, it wasn’t the first time he had dealt with infighting. He looked up at Scavenger, the excavator seemed fine, so no doubt Crusher had overreacted. Still… he looked at the rest of the gestalt. Right, they shouldn’t have said any of those things, but who knew his gestalt would be so bothered over a few meaningless words.

“I figured it was something along those lines. I’ll make a report of the incident, then we’ll be better off if it happens again.” Prowl concluded as he set the clean rifle back in its cabinet.

“Do we have to say sorry?” Asked Long Haul, clearly not liking having to apologize to the mechs who would smirk triumphantly at the notion.

“You do, but only to the ones you sent to the medical wing.” Prowl declared and he could feel the room lift, they could do that, that wouldn't be as bad.

“Well, that’s what I wanted to know.” Their boss said as he made to leave.

“You’re not staying?” A voice called, he could tell it was Hook. He stopped at the doorway, looking back at them playfully.

“Staying? Oh no, I think I'll let you figure out a better way to answer a bit of bullying than with your fists.” And with that he left, pedes carrying him back to his office. He swore he could hear Crusher curse after him but he didn’t mind it. A warm amusement tingled at his spark.

That night he couldn’t sleep. That night he couldn’t sleep either.

He felt distant, like he was a million light years away from his own body. Too awake to sleep and too tired to care he got up. His spark was calling out, just a tiny bit. It felt cold, like the surface was wrapped in ice but the front was starting to melt. And that’s where the calling came from.

How strange, he never felt that before. He remembered when he was a bit younger… okay much younger, and he didn’t feel so cold, but somewhere along the way he became it. Too much pressure to succeed, sacrifises had to be made. His emotions would only get in the way.

He still believed that, overall anyway. But maybe just a little bit of warmth wouldn’t hurt him. Not like it usually had. This was different than before afterall.

He looked up, shocked to see that while in his own head, his legs had walked him to the brig. The guard on duty took one look at him but didn’t say anything. He went down the hall, past empty cells in dim lighting.

Until a red visor caught his eye.

Bonecrusher couldn’t sleep either it seemed.

“Hey.” He greeted and Crusher greeted him back, shuffling towards the front of the cell.

“What are you doing here?” The brawler asked, looking behind him to confirm that they were alone. “I thought visitation wasn't allowed during the night cycle.”

“I’m part of the command, that doesn’t really apply to me.” The tactician said. He could get into trouble, but only with Optimus, and he didn't really care about that.

“What are you doing here tho?” Crusher asked again, leaning forward as if wanting to touch him but with his servos around the bars it was evident that he wouldn’t be able to fit through. Prowl didn’t know what to answer him, the same distant feeling still flowing through his limps. Instead Prowl lifted his own servo, small and slender, easily fitting through the bars. He raised them to skim along Crusher’s jaw. Offering him a tiny bit of comfort. Knowing he didn’t like being so far away from the gestalt, where anything could hurt them and he couldn’t protect them.

“It’ll only be a few days.” Prowl whispered, his tone promising the demolisher he would be back before he knew it. 

The way Bonecrusher leaned into his touch made him feel a little bit closer.

Chapter Text

“Prowl tell me something.” 

The enforcer looked up for only a klik, but seeing the strange look on the medic’s face he quickly found the words on his datapad again. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this. At all.

“What do you want to know?” He asked anyway, somewhat curious, somewhat just to be polite. Hook stilled for a minute, taking him in with the strange expression. He put down his own work and leaned forward.

Prowl glanced to his side, regretting letting Long Haul go planetside with Scavenger.

“So, we combined under… unfortunate circumstances… got bonded. Reminds me of a bad joke I know, about getting bonded while wasted. Still worth it though.” He started and Prowl felt his core start to spin. He knew he wasn’t going to like this. “You hated us, which...fair. You used us, also fair. But now it’s different and... you like us now right?” 

What?

No, actually what?

What way was that to start any conversation?

Prowl didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, didn’t know what the expression Hook wore meant. For a moment he was sure he had misheard the mech entirely.

“What?” He felt his scowl coming on and Hook sighed.

“You like us right?” There was something to his tone, a sense of vulnerability that the enforcer didn’t see with any of the gestalt often, it reminded him of when Crusher had cried. He didn’t like it. Prowl tried to spy at what the crane felt through his spark, but he got nothing. Like Hook had cut him off for once.

So Prowl just sat and stared.

And then his processor kicked back in.

He didn’t know. Or he did know, but not completely, not anymore. He hated them. He still did, what they had done to him was unforgivable… But he had also used them. And he wasn’t entirely without fault. But they had tried so hard to win his favor. They actually liked him and had done nothing to make him outright hate them after the war ended. He had seen their overly gross adoration firsthand, many times. But he hated them… right? Well maybe not anymore, not after he decided he wanted them...but that too felt messy at times. He wanted them but he also wanted them to go away. They were still too close and too loud, but...He needed them and they needed him. And he guessed that they were kind of alright to have around. When they weren’t being absolute buffoons anyway, which was most of the time... But maybe he was getting used to that too, because he didn’t think even that distracted him that much anymore-

“-tron calling Prowl.” He looked up to see the medic smirking at him again. Hook had moved from his chair to in front of his desk, leaning over it menacingly. Or maybe playfully, but the enforcer didn’t know if he was ready to admit that.

“I didn’t ask about the meaning of it all. Just if you liked us.” He laughed but the tone was still inquiring, still poking, wanting an answer. He felt his internal temperature rise. Damn the medic, damn them all. 

Still...

Did he?

“I mean, given our recent...experiences-” 

Hook gave a laugh at the expression. Prowl glared at him.

“-I guess I don't completely hate you.”

“‘Don’t completely hate us.’ That’s the biggest load of slag I've ever heard and I live with Bonecrusher and Mixmaster.” Hook huffed with a slight laugh and Prowl folded his servos in front of him, his core still running hot. He had half the thought to be offended at the implication, no way he was worse than those two .

Hook looked unconvinced at worst, amused at best. The vulnerable tone from before was replaced with something warm, like he was seeing completely through him. Like he knew the answers better than he did himself. ‘Why ask then?’ he thought annoyed.

“Mix can’t seem to figure out if you hate us or not.” He prompted blaming it all on the chemist. How mature. Prowl felt the air under his doorwings as they twisted sharply at the medic’s smug face.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you” He said, collecting his demeanor again and schooling his expression back to calm disdain. Hooks seemed livid.

“Sure you do.” He challenged.

“I guess you’re getting easier to tolerate as well.” He admitted and Hook leaned so far in over his desk he had to remove his servos to avoid contact.

“Funny how we went from hate, to dislike, to tolerance in one conversation. Keep up the pace Prowl and we’ll actually be on the same page soon.” 

“What do you want from me exactly?!” He snapped and Hook grinned wide, teeth glinting as he swung himself over the desk, pedes landing directly in front of Prowl’s and body suddenly way too close. Prowl tried to stand but an insistent servo pushed him back down into his chair. 

He growled.

But then the servo on his shoulder softened, and so did Hook. 

“To stop pretending love doesn’t terrify you.” The words felt like a slap to the face, Prowl wasn’t sure if he was going to get whiplash with the game Hook was playing but with the coil of emotions swirling in his core something was bound to happen. But with the way the medic’s eyes had mellowed out it didn’t feel like a challenge. He gently ran his digits over the metal, and Prowl saw a very real opportunity to push him away. To say stop, to get up and demand he’d leave. But… he didn’t want the medic to leave. 

Not when he looked at him like that .

The servo on his shoulder ghosted it’s way to his face, featherlight touches across the heated metal, caressing under his eyes, before he felt optics on his lips, where the digits follow.

His spark was thrumming, he felt like he couldn’t move as those expert digits skimmed the dip. Prowl swallowed. Hook smiled, genuinely smiled. Then he moved forward, the other hand on the armrest as he came closer. Prowl didn’t know what to feel, so he sat still. He heard the telling click of fans, but given he could hardly breath that didn’t shock him.

He dared not look at the other’s visor, a part of him still not wanting to give the satisfaction of him wanting this.

…

Wanting this? Was this what he wanted? 

He was comfortable letting Hook decide for him, not making a decision and being able to take it back later when he had thought it all through.

But it would look like Hook didn’t allow him that satisfaction either.

Right as he leaned in, right when Prowl was sure he could feel his ex-vent on his face, he stopped.

Finally looking up he saw the optics through the visor, saw how they shone with interest, with adoration, with...love.

He felt his own spark twist and turn at the thought. He didn’t understand how that could be for him.

How he had deserved that.

But he wanted it. He wanted it so bad.

He licked his lips, still looking at those gleaming red eyes.

Yes, he wanted this, and he gave Hook his answer as he closed the distance. He felt the medic sigh with relief. Felt his own shoulders sack with the pressure gone as he gave in. Felt the warm metal move against his, a glossa swiped at him and he didn’t mind. Suddenly both hands were on his face and he could feel Hook’s end of the bond again. Felt the relief, the hunger, the… love. He felt awkward as he reflected it back at him, albeit slowly. 

Hook smiled into the kiss, nibbled gently at him, one hand giving up on cradling his face and looking for a specific point.

Prowl barked a laugh when he found it, that annoying point where sensitive metal tickled against his protoform. He wanted to be annoyed but he couldn’t, it was so informal, so casual and yet… his spark sang at him. Hook smiled wider, kissing his face, his forehead, his nose, his lips. Slowly, gently, treasuring it, like they would never get this again.

And Prowl found himself doing the same, allowing the medic to hold him in his capable hands. Allowing him to fool him into thinking it was this easy.

A servo around his arm, gently holding it, was what brought him back from the warm feeling in his spark. He onlined his optics, when had he shuttedered them? His face still burning as Hook drew away, leaning against his desk with a blush under the red glare of his visor.

They looked at each other for a while, just looked and felt the hum of each other’s spark. Prowl licked his lips again, missing the feeling already.

“I think I’m going to go rub it in Scavenger’s face that I got your first kiss.” Hook smiled, Prowl sent his disappointment at him but Hook just shrugged. He was still smilling, like he had won the war single handedly. Like nothing could take this away from him. And somehow that made Prowl feel lighter, like it mattered to him. Like he mattered to him.

Even as the medic left him alone with his thoughts, alone in his too empty office, he felt... he felt like he too had won.

Chapter Text

Hook had been prepared for the inevitable cursing out and attempted murder when he returned to the barrack. Each and everyone of his teammates looked several stages of pissed off at him for harvesting the goods of their hard work. And then not even including them in it. 

What a bastard. 

He couldn’t be more proud of himself.

He had spared no detail as he had told them about the Praxian’s soft, unscarred lips and how wonderfully he had sighed and moaned and clung to him. Not that he had, but they weren’t there, they didn’t need to know. Even Scavenger, despite looking every bit interested in what he said, looked puffy and annoyed by the end of it. It was only thanks to Hauler, demanding the medic leave the excavator alone, that Hook got to live another day.

It did however pose another, new problem.

Truly he should have seen it coming.

Truly he should not have been so surprised to see Scavenger waiting for him to escort him to his office, holding his servo the entire way. Refusing to let go no matter how many mechs laughed behind their back or the annoyed twitch from Prowl.

He should not have been surprised to see Long Haul at his spot, almost having worked through the entire stack of datapads on his side of the desk already. 

And he should not have been surprised at the way the two constructicons sized the other up. He was however surprised at the servo tucking on his own when he went to start his work. Scavenger looked at him with a soft expression that made him forget about the public display, and then he raised the enforcer’s digits to his lips and kissed the metal gently.

Prowl did not acknowledge the sputter of his spark or the knowing look, as the excavator told him to have a good day.

He had no idea what a day he was in for.

He got an hour of work in before the disaster started to brew. Long Haul had worked hard and fast and after a measly hour he was done with all the minor reports. 

Which led to Prowl’s current distraction. An insistent servo ran over his lower leg and spun the wheel around in a divert manner as the mech talked in his low rumble, drawing half of Prowl’s attention as he tried to keep his head in his work... but he also really wanted to sink into that voice rumbling pleasantly at him. 

Taking a deep vent, he glared at the dumb truck who instantly removed his servo and stopped talking… but it only lasted a moment before the digits were back, absentmindedly running over metal.

“Long Haul, I'm trying to work!” He snapped and the mech had at least a little decency to look ashamed at himself. He looked down at the floor, Prowl pointedly did not look at him.

Until a gentle servo reached out to hold his own.

He was about to snap again, irritation in his tank but … but then he felt the raw need for understanding across the bond, and all words he could have possibly prepared vanished. 

“Prowl.” Long Haul said and the enforcer had to look. It felt like a tug on his spark, insistent, impossible to ignore, and as he looked down at the red visor, he felt his engine stall.

He spied his optics through the red glass, saw the softness behind them and as the giant held his servo closer, right in front of where his spark would be, Prowl felt his own thrum with warmth. Felt the resonation of … he could barely breathe… love.

Long Haul leaned closer and Prowl remembered the last time he had been this close to the dump truck, how he had kissed his helmet and promised to help… Help he had needed in more ways than just datawork.

He dared not breathe but at the same time he couldn’t turn away. Hauler rested his forehead against the enforcer’s, his cyan optics reflected in his visor. He looked startled, but not opposed. Long Haul intertwined their digits and let out a deep chuckle, somehow shy, somehow still giving Prowl all opportunity to turn away.

“Would you mind…” He asked slowly and Prowl felt himself hang on to every word as his optics shifted to the scarred lips right in front of him, battlemask drawn back as it usually was while at base.

“If I kissed you?” 

Oh Primus no, not at all.

He shook his head gently and he opened his mouth invitingly as the dumb truck went to close the distance. The enforcer was nearly shocked with how much he wanted that kiss, how much he had wanted it for a while. He tightened his grip on Hauler’s hand, the only one who felt entirely like being on his team, his second in command, his friend. His core shook with the relazation and he smiled as lips ghosted in front of his.

“Prowl!” A booming voice shouted at the same time as his door opening almost too slowly for the warframe that came charging through. Prowl jumped back in shock, the hold Long Haul had on him the only thing keeping him from landing on the floor. Untapped excitement, how had he not noticed that? Raged alongside the demolisher as he invited himself in and Prowl could literally taste the glee on the other mech.

“Put your work down, you and I ar- Hauler?” Everything stopped and the two ex-cons stared at each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in decades. Then anger took over.

Prowl could feel his own spark cloud over with disappointment, anger as he glared venomously at the demolisher, who looked several shades of uncomfortable at being the center of his boss's disapproval. And of course he decided to aim that right back at Long Haul.

“You said you weren’t going to help him today!” Bonecrusher accused and Prowl could feel murderous intent cling to the dumbtrusk’s EM field, positively for being interrupted. Prowl felt the giant's hand tighten around his own in anger, felt the hurt across the bond before Hauler distanced himself and let go of his hand. Prowl almost wanted to be disappointed at the emptiness that had been where Long Haul was a moment before, but he schooled himself into not letting it show. The demolisher stomped his way up to them and Prowl found himself in the unlucky position between them. Crusher grabbed at his shoulder and he hissed angrily at him, not that the bulldozer paid much attention, no, the two mechs were a little busy with staring each other down in something akin to betrayal.

“Well I decided Prowl would need all the help he could get, considering you continue to cause trouble for him!” The dumbtruck defended valiantly.

“I keep things interesting and this place is too quiet as it is, I’m doing everyone a favor.” Crusher shot back without hesitation and Prowl wondered if he actually believed that.

“And I don’t feel the need to suffocate Prowl in my feelings like you do, grow up, this display is getting humiliating even for you.” He added and Long Haul sprung to his pedes, anger rolling off of him in waves.

“I’m helping.” Long Haul gritted through his denta, a servo on the desk dented the metal with no effort. “And besides yo-”.

Glaring at both offenders Prowl ex-vented harshly, his anger and disappointment finally needing an outlet as the fields clashed above him, rubbing off charge at him. “Yes, I don’t care, get out. Both of you.” he bristled, wings fluttering in anger as he stood and pushed out with his own field, a clear warning for them to step down. Long Haul had half the audacity to look hurt but Prowl had a sneaking suspicion as to where this was going, and he would not allow five warframes to act like a bunch of sparklings. Especially not two with more firepower than half the base.

“I don’t know what exactly has gotten into the lot of you, but you two specifically are banned from my office for the rest of the cycle, furthermore I don’t want to see either of you bother each other. Do I make myself clear?” The enforcer bared his denta, successfully flaring his field out to make the warframes towering over him take a step back, flinching at the intent for injury, he would not blink at throwing them in the brig again if he had to, sparkbond be damned.

Long Haul looked like he wanted to argue, like he wanted to explain himself, but a seething glare from his gestalt leader made him abort that notion. Lowering his head, he stepped around Prowl and headed for the door. Not before defiantly walking into Crusher’s shoulder, earning him a glare and a disapproving huff.

He felt a tiny whine of disappointment that he couldn't help but push back at, at first the giant seemed surprised at being answered and then comfort circled the enforcer... he tentavely sent it back.

Looking back up at the most troublesome warframe he had ever met, Prowl fixed him with the most scolding look he could conjure, admittingly also a little crossed at being interrupted and Crusher stumbled to attention under it, luckily picking up on the foul mood and decided not to test it.

“Why must you always start a fight with everyone? And this time with Long Haul as well, as much as I dislike you going up against the other officers I'm going to have to strongly discourage you from upsetting the gestalt further.” He added with a venomous bite. Crusher flinched again.

“So I take it you don’t want to go to the shooting range with me?” Prowl growled at him.

“After that display? No way in the pit, you apologize to Long Haul and stop acting like an overgrown sparkling and then we can talk. I want to hear nothing more about you today, you hear me? One more offense Crusher and you’re back to weapon maintenance, you alone.” The demolisher looked rather remorseful, perhaps even a bit embarrassed at his own actions. But he still hung onto that hope that maybe he could convince Prowl to do something with him for once… or have something to do.

“Sorry boss, won’t happen again.” He said and he sounded like he meant it.

“See to it that it doesn’t. Now, get out.”

He got a small break after that, quiet time for him to polish the new building permits for Polyhex. Primus knew they would have to get serious about rebuilding soon, more mechs returned home every day and they needed housing. Maybe he should see Opti-

A ping on his door snapped him out of the zone, again.

Scowling at the disturbance he allowed entrance, and lo and behold if it wasn’t the mech who started it all.

Looking awfully happy with himself Hook sauntered into the office like he owned the place, a grin on his face which only made the enforcer scowl harder. “I hope you’re here to take responsibility for the utterly pathetic situation you caused” He reprimanded.

Hook’s grin went on to a full on smirk as he came up beside the desk, leaning against it as he looked down at the enforcer with the most pleased air he possibly could project. Prowl thought he would be angrier, he was definitely annoyed after how Crusher and Hauler had behaved not that long ago. But the way the medic seemed to almost be laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, was contagious in a way, and Prowl found himself chuckling.

“Why are they fighting anyway? They realize they don’t have to make it a competition right?” He asked and cleared his report so he could lean back and concentrate on his visitor.

“Are you literally admitting to wanting to take it further with all of us? Very brave for you.” He teased and Prowl huffed at him. He muttered to the crane to answer the question, and Hook seemed to go quiet. Going back to that silver of vulnerability that he seemed to hold for him, only for him.

”We don’t want to push you, we want you to be comfortable.” He answered with an honesty that was disarming, or maybe it was the way he caressed Prowl’s jaw that made his engine rumble. “They think there’s only enough for some of them until you tell us to leave you alone again, and all of them want in.” He stated, almost as if it was obvious. 

And maybe it was but to Prowl it hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal.

Well that was not true, it was a big deal. But he had figured, because of course he did, that when he had kissed Hook, it had meant to start something for all of them. Should he have told them all that was how he saw it?

Maybe he had handled this entire thing wrong?

He sighed heavily. Relationships were hard.

“What a load of slag… how come you’re not caught up in the same stupor?” Hook chuckled beside him, leaning down to be at eye level before leaning in over him again, the exact way he had when he started this mess. Prowl gave him the most unimpressed look he could.

“Well first off, I am the one with a surgeon degree…” He started as if that said anything about his intelligence.

“And?”

“Well. I’m not as much into apologizing as the others are.” He said with a smirk and leaned further still. So he just didn’t care? Yeah, Prowl could believe the medic was that kind of bastard for sure. 

Still, Prowl felt his wings twitch... but not in annoyance. Rolling his eyes, he did give the medic a tiny peak before gently pushing him away. Enjoying the rumbling purr under his servo a little more than he first thought he would.

Prowl grabbed the datapads off of the desk and made for the door.

“You-” He started waving a single digit in the air. “-are going to stop edging them on, I want no more disturbances of this kind, this whole contest is stupid and not worth my time.” The enforcer said not missing how the medic seemed to be looking a bit too much at his doorwings and listening too little. The subtle, slow flutter he made might have been manual, no one had any proof. 

The way Hook’s lips had split into a doopy smile, was something he registered to explore later. For now, he had reports to do and duties to see to, and he was all too happy to leave his office for now, knowing he would find no peace there for the rest of the day.

When he had moved his work to the hallways, something he would do when he felt restless or periods of burnout, it did become slightly easier. He continued on with his work, making notes and booking meetings, especially one long overdue with Optimus. It was all going well

Then Mixmaster found him.

Surprisingly, it hadn’t been as bad as he expected. The chemist had opened his mouth, clearly to say something stupid. But then he looked over Prowl’s shoulder, read his report of sensitive information, and for once in his existence... had decided to be helpful.

He gave building tips or creative ideas that while not always the best for the existing problem, Prowl could see being used at another time. He wrote them down for later. The mixer actually managed to be helpful enough that Prowl didn’t mind indulging in other conversation when Mix changed topic. 

And that was how he found them on the topic of energon treats and flavors, something that seemed almost too mundane but still felt awfully right t talk about.

Prowl found himself chuckling along as they shared what their favorite flavors were, even if the enforcer admitted it have been terribly long since he had indulged himself in anything he wasn’t entirely certain of.

And then they ran into Bonecrusher.

He gave the chemist a strange look, one that Mixmaster returned with baring his denta. About ready to beg for no more bullshit, Prowl could feel his doorwings rise as he silently warned the bulldozer, dared him to just try and ruin this as well. 

There was a klik where they stood like that, Bonecrusher clearly thinking over his options and no doubt the warning Prowl had given him earlier.

He decided to not upset the gestalt.

Instead he looked oddly at Prowl as he stated, quietly, that the energon treats with magnesium flakes that Mixmaster makes were something he would have to try.

Even Mixmaster seemed surprised, but definitely not upset. He perked up immediately, elbowing Crusher as he went on and on about how they were going to have to have a tasting evening one of these days and he would make all sorts of treats.

Prowl returned to his report as the two discussed what Mixmaster was going to need, he tried to hide his smile but knew it was futile at this point.

He almost didn’t want to tell them he had a meeting, but as they got to the meeting room there was no way around it. He nodded to another mech attending as he entered and Prowl himself turned around to face his teammates. 

Maybe he knew exactly how to fix this competition and make it sizzle out before anything bad happened...

“I have to attend this one, I will hold you to the energon tasting though.” He said and there was a klik where he hesitated. But before the two mechs turned around, looking clearly disappointed, he stepped forward.

Don’t lose your nerve.

He looked directly at Mixmaster, who seemed to have frozen up and for once didn’t speak. They both blinked and then Prowl invited himself into the chemist’s space. The mixer still didn’t move but didn’t protest when warm lips pressed into his own, gentle and testing. Never really knowing where he had him. Prowl could feel warmth bloom over the bond, two clawed servos coming up to grab at his arms, as that very warmth turned into something else. 

Hunger

He pulled away before he could be trapped, and the look Mix gave him was a promising one.

One he decided he would give no thoughts to. None.

Turning to Crusher he found the demolisher looking forlorn but also a bit hopeful, maybe he really had gotten through to him with the reprimand earlier. Nevertheless, he stepped up to him and beaconed him down, an order that was followed with no hesitation and no small amount of eagerness, still the bulldozer didn’t press forward and Prowl could give him his own kiss as he held his head in his hands.

“Well done, you two, I’ll see you around.”

And just like that he stepped away and closed the doors behind him.

He almost regretted it when a booming ‘YES’ and the knowing, and somewhat disturbed, glances from his fellow comrades caught up with him.

Almost.

It was late.

The meeting had dragged out and he had indeed gotten the processor ache he had feared. He had been immediately hijacked by a surveillance team bringing a problem, about sketchy characters moving about planetside, to his attention and from there it had spiralled out of control. 

Scavenger had brought him his lunch but he barely had time to stop as he had been whisked away by the next problem. He had sent an apologetic look to the excavator over his shoulder, one met with a sad smile that made his tank turn uncomfortably. But he couldn’t stop. 

Until now. He still had datawork to go over, still had to figure out a solution and make a draft for the rest of high command. Still had to assemble a unit to check out the security breach. Still had so much to do.

But he was tired. 

Tired enough that he decided he would deal with the rest of his work and gestalt tomorrow. And so, he was enroute to his quarters.

He was almost home, typing away at the keypad to get in, when a hand landed on his shoulder. A panicked note shocked his core and he grabbed it roughly, eyes narrowing in anger as he widened his stance. But then he was met with a gentle look through a bright red visor.

Long Haul.

He instantly let go, letting his arms fall to his side and his body relax. The panic soothing into nothing as something else took it’s place, a gentle thrumming that was met by the spark in front of him. The dumbtruck didn’t say anything, didn’t need to as he snapped back his battlemask and leaned down.

Prowl felt like he was back in his office, a sense of safety encompassing him as the dumbtruck smiled at him. He shuttered off his optics with a heavy vent, just as the giant let their foreheads rest against the other’s. Hauler hummed at him, felt the resonant in his plates and he didn’t need to look at him to know what expression he was wearing, because he felt it.

He let the bond tell him of the love, let himself dip his pedes in the warmth and let it’s gentle waters wash over his tired plating. He almost hesitated, a part of him shying away from the want in his tank. But he knew Long Haul wouldn’t laugh at him, knew the giant would give him whatever he wanted, because he told him so.

So he pushed at the other, informed him that he was still waiting for that kiss... His temperature picked up at the way tingly charge of excitement came at him, then he heard the deep chuckle and felt himself lean in to invite. A hand far bigger than his skimmed his jaw, and with a digit on his chin Prowl sunk into yet another kiss. Gentle, caring, promising him… something. Something that made his spark roll in tired yet gleeful loops. A glossa tested the waters and Prowl couldn’t stop himself from stepping all the way into the other’s field, letting it engulf him and entwine with his own, letting his chest lean against the bigger frame as he melted.

Long Haul removed the hand on his face in order to snake it around his side, letting the warm metal splay out on his back, gently caressing at the seams and warming up the wiring underneath the plating. Prowl could stop himself from sighing into the kiss, letting his own servos come up around Hauler’s neck.

In his tired state, as he stood there with Long Haul, he almost could feel them as one. Felt the lines blurring as they breathed through one another, their fields balancing out and becoming one, their sparks relaying the same adoration. Safe, warm and deeply cared for.

How had he been able to go all that time without this?

He almost didn’t want to let him go when Long Haul pulled back, removing that giant hand that held him so gently.

He opened his eyes as he felt something slide into his hand. A cube of energon rested in his hand and with that the dumbtruck gave him a small peak on the cheek, turned on his pedes and bid him goodnight. A twinkle in his optics as he left. Prowl stared after him, a brief thought of following after the giant registered in his processor, but after mulling it over he decided he would join them some other night.

He noted to himself that that night the energon tasted sweeter than normal.

Chapter Text

Scavenger had been upset.

No.

Upset wasn't even close to encompass how the excavator had felt, when hearing that everyone but him, had shot their shot and hit the target.

He was sparkbroken.

To his credit, he didn't cry. He didn't come storming into Prowl's office to complain or whine, or bother him at all really. He kept his distance, as if he had concluded there was no more room for him. The lack of reaction made Prowl feel even more guilty though. He didn’t want to feel as bad as he did, truly he hadn’t meant to let the excavator feel excluded.

But the uncomfortable swirl of emotions in his core told him that no matter what he had wanted, it was what had happened. - Or maybe Scavenger was manipulating him again... food for thought but that didn't change the amount of emotions he had managed to stir up in Prowl.

So, since the smallest ex-con wouldn’t come to him, as he had been avoiding him the last few days, he would have to come to him.

Which was why he was outside the constructicons’ barrack that morning.

He took a deep vent, knowing all too well how the other’s would react, already kind of regretting what he was about to do. Surely he could have chosen a better day than today, chosen an easier route or just comm the excavator to come see him. But…

he also wanted to do this.

So he pinged the door.

No response. 

With a groan he pinged it again. What a bunch of lazy good for nothings…

With still no reply he pinched his chevron with an irritated sigh, before moving the servo to the door and with a set of insistent raps announced his presence.

That did it.

In less than a klik the door slid open to a groggy but smug looking Mixmaster leaning against it. He looked down at the Praxian with hooded eyes and a sharp smile, and despite the pleasant roll of his tank, Prowl could almost convince himself he regretted being there.

“Am I still dreaming or have a cyberangel decided to visit?” He asked, a pleasant rumble to his tone, Prowl made an unimpressed sound. He felt his doorwings start to flutter in response and manually locked them in place. Damn them to the pit.

“Why don’t you come in boss? There’s room enough for one more.” Hook called from the berth where several optics and visors looked longingly back at him.

“I think I'd rather choke on my energon.” He responded dryly, not surprised at the greeting. Mixmaster seemed to vibrate at the response.

“That can be arranged~” He sang as his optics looked the enforcer up and down. Prowl could feel his doorwings go rigid as he ground his denta together. He looked pointedly at Scavenger who sprung up from his spot on the berth, looking somewhere between concerned at the attention but also ecstatic. Someone chuckled behind him.

“Scavenger, are you free today?” Prowl asked and he could literally feel the way every mech in the room perked up, suddenly far more interested in whatever he had planned than their pathetic attempts at flirting. They tried to peer at his intent through the bond, an attempt he shot down instantly, watching with glee as several physically flinched.

“Yes I am, why?”

“How would you like to accompany me to Iacon today?” There was a beat of silence, before all of them erupted in a series of shouts and ‘whats’. Even Mix seemed at a loss but a fierce jealousy quickly fired up around the enforcer. Only Hook laughed, apparently finding the situation rather amusing. Prowl recalled something about a meeting for the medics today, so Hook probably wouldn't have been able to go anyway.

“Really!? I get to come with you!?” The excavator asked in bewilderment, his hands starting to fumble with each other, tail wagging excitedly over his shoulders. His shock with glee, a smile clear on his face.

“Hold on, how come he gets to come?” Bonecrusher shouted as he too got to his feet and stood beside the smaller ex-con who was bouncing in place, he pinched Scavenger’s tail making the smaller constructicon yelp and Prowl growl a warning at him.

“Because I say so and I might need him.” Prowl defended and took an extra step into the room, instantly making the demolisher back off from taking out his jealousy on the youngest member. He maneuvered himself in-between them, somehow managing to glare so hard at Crusher to make him raise his servos in a placating manner, making him look away from the glower.

“Why don’t we all go?” Long Haul asked, trying for diplomacy but clearly also wanting to go. He did earn a few hums of agreement.

“Because this is a very important meeting and i'll need Scavenger's detetor for some...other plans. Having five ex-cons with me, is a little more than just suspicious and I'm not trying to give the other mechs a sparkattack. Scavenger is the least intimidating out of you and that’s why he gets to come. And I'm also only going to bother with getting one of you clearing.” Prowl finished fixing each of them with a glare that brokered no chance for negotiation. Well, this had gone exactly as he had predicted so far.

Long Haul looked down at the floor, clearly upset and Prowl had half the spark to be bothered before he looked back at the excavator who seemed almost too excited to stay in his own plating.

“We’ll have to get our ration and go straight to the shuttle bay.” He informed and Scavenger skipped towards him, taking his servo in his own the moment he could, clearly having forgotten he was supposed to be upset with him. Prowl tried not to let the way the other’s sulked get to him. Instead he looked to Long Haul.

“You're in charge until I’m back.” He said, the three others groaned loudly, Mix directly throwing his servos in the air in frustration and going back to bed. Prowl dared not let his smirk show as he turned around and walked out, Scavenger by his side, fumbling excitedly with his digits. He did however feel a bright delight spread around his spark, and he knew it came from Long Haul.

As they rounded the corner he heard the end of the conversation.

“Maybe I should try crying the entire night cycle, clearly it works for Scavenger.”

“Don’t even try it Crush, Scav can get away with keeping us up because he’s cute. If you try you can recharge in the hallway.”

Chapter Text

The meeting had been long.

Prowl had argued furiously with the others about placements of buildings, security, traditions and everything else under the sun. Some would say that he might have been even more nit-picky than normal, going for making the plans absolutely perfect. And if they said that... well they might be right.

Of course, none of them knew about the constructicon that had been snooping around in their offices as the meeting took place. Prowl had given Scavenger everything he would need to stay undetected. He had prepared for Scavenger being found out and even had the excavator practice a few lines on their way down in case he got caught. Scavenger had not thought this would be his role when he had said yes, and he had been...nervous.

Almost to the point of his plates rattling.

But no one had noticed and no one had seen, and Prowl had been given several interesting findings once the two had been alone again. Scavenger had surely deserved the praise he had been given and he certainly had deserved the moment that had sprung from it.

Which lead Prowl to his current situation.

One where he was leaned over the excavator, two strong legs locked around his middle as Scavenger pulled him closer. Almost too desperately close.

His desk held surprisingly strong under the weight of all the constructicons that had been on it lately, but Prowl himself was a bit preoccupied with the glossa currently in his mouth, clumsily licking his own like Scavenger was starving. Prowl did not enjoy it as much as he first thought he would and he quietly questioned how Scavenger could be such a lousy kisser with the other constructicons to practise on.

He pulled away for a second, trying to force a cycle of breath before he was pulled back again.

"Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm-" He managed with bated breath, willingly going back when Scavenger whined so prettily, his black and white hands cradling his head as he whispered against his lips. 

"But I'm not going anywhere, it’s okay."

Scavenger let out a shaky breath, his servos trembling on top of the desk. Prowl looked at him and gave him a tiny smile, one Scavenger returned nervously. The enforcer leaned closer, his own servos on each side of the excavator, pinning him in place as he ghosted his lips against his. Trembling lips finding each other as Prowl initiated a slow dance between them.

Something that he could take control over and slowly Scavenger started to relax against him.

Scavenger parted for a vent and chuckled slightly. "That's good, that's really really good, oh primus." he rambled, his servos flexing as he leaned back into Prowl, his anxiety seemingly dissipating steadily. Still his hands shook and Prowl found himself entwining their digits, a gesture the excavator was all in for, if the way he immediately reciprocated said anything. He chuckled again.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to.. hah.. I wanted to impress you." He said between tiny kisses, as if he was starving but couldn't stay focused enough to keep at it. Prowl smiled at the notion, there was something very sweet about it all. Clumsy but flattering.

"It’s just, wherever i see you, my processor starts to spin, and my spark just beat so hard and i feel like I'm going to trip and i start thinking ‘oh primus what if i trip right in front of you and you think i'm dumb’ or ‘slag i have no idea what I’m talking about anymore’ but then you start talking and it all gets worse but in the best way... does any of that makes sense, i don’t actually know if it made sense because i just lost the thread of what i wanted to say…" He continued on and Prowl for once didn't have the spark to interrupt, something in him telling him to listen. So instead he opted to kiss at his cheeks or helmet, while the mech talked, going back to his lips only when he finished.

Scavenger too seemed surprised at the show of patience. His digits started to stroke the servos in his.

"I’m sorry i think I’m rambling, you can tell me to shut up, i will if you want me to, everyone always says its annoying but you just make me so nervous sometimes." He rambled on again, his voice slowly lowering and Prowl shook his head as he leaned into the others neck, allowing himself to rest there while Scavenger talked about what he needed to talk about. 

"I might while on duty, but right now it's alright, you can talk all you want." He offered, shocking himself as he meant it. Normally Scavenger’s endless rambling did tend to make his head hurt but maybe it was the way their spark beat in tandem, syncing up and leveling out. 

Maybe it was the way he could breathe easier still, with those legs locked around him, digits twisting in barely concealed joy…

…or maybe it was how he could connect to what the excavator said.

He kissed Scavenger gently, feeling his spark echo inside the other and feeling so wonderfully close.

Something echoed back at him.

Emotions were hard and it was oddly calming that he wasn't the only one feeling... overwhelmed, clumsy and… flattered.

Chapter Text

Pain flared through him as his doorwings took the full impact of being thrown into a solid steel wall.

Stifling the yell right on his glossa, he moved low almost automatically as he narrowly avoided having his face punched in by the cackling warframe in front of him. Prowl dove away from the wall, making sure to yank at the chemist's right leg, right as his weight leaned into the punch, successfully sending Mixmaster into the floor. Not like he was done, despite the growl sent his way Prowl was just a tad too slow to avoid the servo grabbing his arm, a heavy frame landing painfully over his hip to keep him pinned, as another servo grabbed at his throat and then the servo on his arm pulled .

Armor dented in sickening ravines under the harsh grip and wiring strained at the sudden pressure. He had to get up, had to get out from under the mixer or he would be done for. Error messages flooded his HUD. A silver line of panic ran through his core before he schooled ice into his mind. Stay calm, don’t panic.

Rolling his back upwards he unstuck one leg, quickly placing it between them as one servo locked around the chemist’s shoulder, and then he angled his face just so that his blunt Autobot teeth found ground in the servo on his throat and he bit down with all his might .

Mixmaster howled and the next second Prowl had rolled up again, making just enough momentum to rip the warframe from him and send him flying into the wall above them.

Not missing a beat Prowl found his pedes and moved out of range, watching as Mix rubbed his helmet in awe before taking a look at his servo where energon was steadily running down, dripping onto the floor.

There was no way for him to miss the grin the mixer sent at him or the red hot need sent at him from across the bond. Something he answered with his own ice cold disapproval. Not that Mixmaster seemed to care much as he stood back up.

Prowl rolled his shoulder, error messages popping back up as he evaluated the damage. He really needed to be more careful about letting Mix pin him like that, his arm would not take another pull like that.

The chemist started towards him and Prowl started to lead him round, making a circle for them to dance in, as he tried to figure out how he could take him out. If he could just get one good grip on him he could win this and finally end it. But he was sure the chemist would not let him go again if he could help it.

Suddenly heavy pedes picked up, charging towards him with a yell. Prowl widened his stance, aiming low as he dodge the hit aimed at his chest. Knowing his punches would have little effect on the thick armor, he dug his slender digits into transformation seams, ripping and scratching at anything he could reach as he matched Mix’s every step. One step back out of reach, dodge, scratch at a weak point, back out, fake dodge to one side. Back in, back out as he tore at the chemist with determination.

Ripping metal from his frame and rumbling pleased at the shout of pain. An opening he didn’t dare not take, finally getting the most satisfying punch in as his servo connected with the chemist’s right optic.

He took no small pleasure in how the glass cracked or how Mix growled as he stumbled back, clutching his face and an angry howl rumbling in his spark. Prowl should probably have taken that as the very real warning it was, but he was a little too busy feeling good about himself to care, allowing the slip up for the cheering he felt in his core. Mix looked up at the enforcer, not matching his smile, he sneered.

“That was low even for you.” He scolded and didn’t even give Prowl the chance for his own witty comeback as he surged forward and made a grab for him.

Prowl ducked low but Mix kept going and realization dawned on him too late as the rough servo closed around his doorwing. In a panicked spur Prowl tried desperately to turn down the sensornet, as low as they could go, but he couldn’t stop the pained shout as Mix yanked at the wing, hard, disconnecting sensitive wires and pulling at soft metal . Let go, let go letgo makehimletgo

Prowl cried out.

Looks like he really took that punch personally.

Prowl felt coolant sting in his optics as his sensors were bombarded with error messages and pain flew about his receptors.

Mixmaster glared at him, the beginning of a wicked smile back on his lips as he felt the resonant of pain. Prowl grabbed at his arm and tried to twist and that way force the mixer off of him. He was almost out of his grip when Mix winked at him and lifted him up, and then Prowl went over the chemist’s head.

Shifting his weight mid-air and redirecting the direction that Mixmaster had meant to punish him with, definitely aiming to send him flying into another wall, he managed to hold onto the mixer as he landed behind him, twisting his arm into a locked position.

He would get him for that dirty trick.

It took only a split second for the implication to dawn on Mix but by then it was too late. Prowl kicked at the back of his knee joints and swiped his legs out under him, sending the chemist into the floor again, a pained groan slipped from him as his chin took the impact and not wasting so much as a second, Prowl moved to his back to secure him and lean threatening into the arm he had a firm grip on, having it on a hair’s breadth from tearing, teasing with breaking it off if the mixer tried anything.

Mix howled and slapped the floor insistently as he yielded, Prowl let the arm go the moment the chemist gave in and moved off of him to ex-vent heavily as he could finally let his frame relax. 

He twitched his doorwings manually, flinching as pain rolled through his frame. That would take a small trip to the medical wing no doubt.

Mixmaster rolled back around and looked at the enforcer with a wicked smile as his venting came out as small angry puffs.

“I almost had you this time.” He said with a pride that was hard not to find contagious. Especially as during the first couple of rounds he had barely been able to lay a hand on Prowl. 

“If by ‘had me’ you mean, nearly tore my arm off, then yes, you almost did.” Prowl shot back with a glare. “And doorwings were off limits, you glitch.” He added, kicking at the other’s pede.

“You took out my eye! I can't see boss! How do you think Hook is gonna react to that? He’ll pick me apart is what he’ll do.” The chemist growled and kicked back at him, just to be a nuisance no doubt. There was no bite behind his words.

There was a split second where they just sat and caught their breaths, kicking absentmindedly at each other as they let their systems cool. 

It was almost...nice.

“Sooo… best out of 7?” Mix asked with a smirk, rolling his shoulder in an attempt to sooth the pain, clearly ignoring the tears in his armor, caused by blunt fingers and how they had scratched at the sensitive wiring and seams, that were bleeding mildly. Prowl hadn’t dug too deep, not wanting to hurt him.

Prowl shook his head in disbelief.

“No, I’m done for now, I’ll have to get someone to look at the doorwing you manhandled before my meeting. You need to go see Hook as well.” He said with such a finality Mix didn’t even try to argue.

Not that he was done yet.

He let out a joyous huff of air as he gathered his pedes under him and just as Prowl was about to stand, the chemist yanked on his leg. Bringing him back under him as Mix leaned suggestively in over him, engine purring and frame still running hot.

Ignoring the skip of his spark and how the heat transferred into his own frame, Prowl glared at him. And with a firm servo on his chest, he stopped the mixer from claiming the kiss he had clearly intended for.

Joyous huff seemed a lot more annoyed all of a sudden.

Not that he managed to wipe the smirk from the chemist’s face at all, as a matter of fact Prowl could feel an unashamed amusement run through him. A big warning sign in Prowl’s opinion.

“Well, I’ll see you later then~” Mix sang, his voice dropping to a rumble as he winked and then he leaned his entire body down to grind against the enforcer. Forcing a startled yelp from the mech before the mixer quickly got up, blew him a kiss and made for the door.

Prowl stared after him, confused at the sudden stop, frame burning hot, but also annoyed at the tingling sensation in his frame and therefore by default, annoyed at the mech causing it.

That was until he looked down at himself and saw the glaringly obvious color patches on his front. Bright green and purple winked back up at him under the harsh lighting of the training room and he felt his temper flare, knowing he had to make a detour to the wash rack before anyone would see him like this.

The smugness he felt from across the bond, only felt more self-satisfied as he swore loudly into the hallway, promising to deactivate the mixer in his sleep.

Chapter Text

At first the shock was all he could feel. 

So thick and overwhelming that it felt like it alone could shatter the moment. Shatter them. Then hands were on his hips, pulling him flush as Mix leaned into the kiss, kissing him back with such a fever that it felt like if he stopped, he would go offline.

They had just been talking when it had hit him, the undeniable urge to kiss the chemist. He had barely managed to think about it before he was so close he could feel Mix’s ex-vent on his face. Red optics staring at him in shocked anticipation.

It was messy. Usually he was better at this, but there was something overtaking him as he had finally met the other’s lips. Desperation seeped in through the bond and Prowl could do little but answer it with his own messy, too close , need. A need he had denied but that was now so obvious that if he didn't allow just this small dwell into the affection, and wholeness that the gestalt offered, he would go mad.

So he pressed closer, trying to get as close as they possibly could without combining, closer, closer, he just needed to be closer. It echoed back at him from somewhere in his core and he could suddenly tell Mix from the rest of the weird glomp that resonated in his spark and Mix...understood.

Understanding flooded the bond as Prowl opened even more, letting it soothe his own and he felt like he could cry from how much Mixmaster understood. How the same need rang from him, calling Prowl ever closer to his spark, their spark.

There was a feeling of being devoured, or falling, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure if it was Mix devouring him or him trying to devour Mix. It didn’t exactly matter.

And then the feeling wilted, the connection halting and he felt his hands push harshly against the chemist, shoving him backwards as he ex-vented hard, small desperate puffs of air as he tried to calm his beating spark. Mix didn’t look deterred in the slightest, as a matter of fact he looked like he might pounce on him. 

Prowl couldn’t help the small shiver that went up his spine or the tiny bit of his spark that wouldn’t mind if he did. 

But somehow Mix managed to reel himself in, an impressive feat for someone who always took what he wanted and Prowl...didn’t know what to feel. His arms were shaking, his head was a mess and his spark was thrumming with a vast amount of emotions he didn’t know what to do with. Most of them were anxious, fearful and wanted to distance him from this mess of a situation. He knew he would follow those, like he always did, so he could get back on top of all of this. But he couldn’t deny that right there underneath was a very warm and welcoming feeling. A feeling of being whole.

The expression on Mix’s face told him that he felt the same. And as he blinked so did Mix, somehow snapping both of them out of the trance they had been caught in. Mix finally moved, he held eye contact the entire time as he slowly moved backwards, as if he too was at war with himself. Prowl could convince himself the phantom muttering, he more felt than heard, was the rest of the gestalt, talking, convincing, trying to keep the mixer in check and not push the enforcer too far too quickly.

But he made for the door, blowing Prowl a cheeky kiss as he did, and then he was gone.

Prowl collapsed into his chair, palming his optics hard before moving to message his chevron.

What a mess he had made of this whole thing.

Still…

Gingerly he ran a digit over his lips.

Chapter Text

Prowl groaned loudly.

He heard a small chuckle to his right where Long Haul had claimed his spot with a rather large pillow. It looked odd, a tad too cozy for the small office, the office of professionality and where Prowl made bots break down crying. And now there was a giant floor pillow in it. He had thought about demanding the dump truck got a real desk a couple of times now, but every time he opened his mouth to speak he looked at the mech.

And he just couldn’t.

There was something awfully soft about the whole thing.

The way Long Haul had more or less started coming in a couple of times a week just to help him out. The way he would chat briefly or bring a funny detail to Prowl’s attention. Or maybe just the way Prowl would actually leave his office at a reasonable time since the larger mech could be surprisingly persuasive.

To the pit with it all.

Prowl hated to admit it but he found his shifts a lot more...enjoyable with Long Haul there.

So why?

Why did someone always have to come ruin it?

“No, absolutely not.”

“I know how to restrain myself!”

Had it been anyone else but Prowl sitting at the desk, receiving that lie, they would positively have gawked. Ever the image of professionalism, Prowl however settled on a furious tick of his doorwings, letting Mixmaster know exactly how he felt about that statement.

“Mixmaster, I have seen the damage reports. I have been in your head. There’s no way I will allow you to carry fire with you while on base.” Prowl stated like it had been obvious. And somehow Mixmaster still looked completely blindsided by the rejection.

"But Prowl! This is special high-graded casing, and it will have the sleekest of transformation plating you will have ever seen. I know what I'm doing baby, and it'll be great" Mixmaster stated like it was in the bag. Prowls scowl could only deepen. 

“What would you even use it for anyway?” He questioned, wondering why he was even humouring Mixmaster in the first place.

The chemist perked up, his whole face radiating with glee. In a fluid motion he swung himself back onto the desk, swinging his legs over it to rest besides Prowl. No doubt trying to show off. Prowl gave another furious tick of his wings, about to scold the chemist into the deepest, darkest- And suddenly the chemist had laid several different datapads on the table, all containing fast scribbled, barely readable words and drawings.

“I'm so glad you asked! See I’ve been working on this idea!” He drew one of the datapads from the stack and laid it in Prowl’s hand. Prowl looked at it intensely, nearly giving up on reading it, when suddenly one word started making sense. And then a sentence. He looked until he caught onto the red thread that seemed to exist in between the scribbles and hieroglyphs and he was rather surprised when he figured. He could read it just fine.

There was an amused tingle around his spark and he huffed, as he tightened it back up again. The bond... that made sense… somewhat?

The idea however… there was no way in hell he could allow this.

“So you want to make a series of toxic fumes and liquids for your own arsenal that you can activate with fire, a highly explosive and dangerous weapon, and then you want to carry said highly explosive and dangerous weapon around base as you please… Mix can you not hear how stupid this idea is. High command is never going to allow this, we’re already on pretty thin ice here after the last incident where you planted that "prank" in Steeltrap’s office. Which I’m still apologizing for, by the way.”

Mix smiled widely at the memory and Prowl couldn’t stop himself from scowling deeper. 

“Prowl~” he sang, the enforcer’s name coming off of his glossa with a deep rumble. Prowl literally restrained himself from making any sudden movements that would give away what that tone could accomplish.

“This is why I’m coming to you, and not the science department. Surely you can see the many uses something like this could have.” He smirked and Prowl tried to manually shut off his battle processor, which had, as Mix suspected, been running multiple scenarios involving the possibilities since Mix had opened his mouth about the whole thing.

He didn’t succeed in shutting it off. The idea was just a tad too appetizing, the amount of firepower Mix could give them with only a few days and materials were every tactician’s dream.

And they all knew it. Prowl eyed Long Haul who had been oddly quiet during the entire exchange. No doubt the dumptruck was as in on the idea as Mix was, but was trying not to push it.

“Alright.”

“Awesome! I knew you would understand! I’ll get my gear and get started! I’m sure I can bully my way into the science wing-” He was getting excited. Quickly getting up from the desk and moving towards the door, intention and wicked mirth clear on his face and in his EM shield.

“You will do no such thing.” Prowl said with authority as he picked up another datapad, letting his processor go wild. Well, he had already said yes, he might as well get everything he could out of it.

“You will go planetside.” He finished. Mix face fell at first before a glint took over his eyes. Long Haul was eying them both.

“Planetside?”

“Yes… this will stay between us, high command will not hear any of this.” He didn't want anyone to know he would have this kind of weapon at his disposal. He was feeling the pleasure of plannig, mapping out uses and scenarios. The sweet flow of information as he would sit with all the trump cards. Mixmaster looked ready to swoon at the other side of the room.

“Prowl… are you flirting with me? Because going behind Hightower’s back sure does sound like flirting to me.” Mix said, holding a hand to his spark chamber, voice trembling dramatically. Long Haul chuckled, clearly amused and Prowl could only shake his head.

“You are impossible to deal with-”

“Thank you, I try my best!” A smirk met a glare.

“...You will take Scavenger with you. He should be able to find any materials you’ll need and provide you both with some sort of bunker. I want daily reports on your progress. I will handle clearing and transportation… and a viable excuse.”

“Thank you Prowl, holy Primus you will not regret this, it’ll be great!” Mix was beaming, dancing from one pede to the other. 

“The only thing great so far is the fact that my office is soundproof.” Prowl said dully, his voice masking the excitement he felt. Picking up another datapad he saw how Mix intended to store the finished product. Picking up a pen he scribbled a few corrections and ideas. Looking back up he saw Mix looking at him with an odd expression. Something akin to bewilderment.

It only lasted for a split second, then he was back to grinning like a cyberwolf.

Prowl wondered if he would come to regret this. But he wanted a trump card. He wanted to have ammunition. He didn’t even know what for, maybe just to save his bruised ego but… this felt familiar.

He ignored the pleased rumbling from Long Haul next to him.

Chapter Text

He looked back down at Long Haul working away, a small smile tugged at the dumbtruck's lips. He sat criss-crossed, reading silently, until he scribbled something down or finally cleared the report. And then he started the cycle anew. 

Every once in a while he would bring out his own personal datapad and scroll through something, Prowl didn’t actually know what, but it all looked oddly mundane.

And there was an awful lot of space in his lap…

Prowl remembered being quite comfortable when he had slept there on the snowstorm planet. Maybe he could...

Turning away with a scowl Prowl tried to fight the heat in his cheeks.

No way.

This was not happening, he did not just think that, and he was certainly not getting distracted while working.

How unprofessional.

…

...

He looked back down. Long Haul still hadn’t noticed him looking, thank Primus. But still, Long Haul was just so… easy, always easy to get along with, easy to work with, easy to admit he…

Turning away again, this time there was no way to fight off the way his doorwings fluttered in interest. 

Damn it all to the pit. 

Scribbling angrily at the report in his hand, he concluded it was best if he worked alone again. 

----

Not that he ever did anything about it.

He kept telling himself he would. He could maybe even get Long Haul his own office. But whenever it came to actually submitting the request, to actually telling Long Haul he couldn’t work in Prowl’s office anymore. Prowl just… didn’t.

Of course he couldn’t bring up an actual excuse for dismissing Long Haul. He couldn’t just walk up to him and say: “Hey I can't stop thinking about cuddling with you and being sprawled all over your lap while we work, so you have to stop helping me with said work. Also I love the cozyness that pillow brings, really makes the office, where i make bots break down crying, feel homey” 

The pit would sooner freeze over.

There was always another notepad that needed to be cleared, or another question that needed answering and suddenly they were chatting. Just chatting, and Long Haul wanted to chat with Prowl. He wanted to be there, in the room with him where most people usually avoided him or hurried back out again.

So logically it was completely out of the question. He especially couldn’t do that, considering that not only were his shifts with Long Haul much more pleasant than when he did reports on his own, he actually liked chatting with the dumptruck and listening to him talk about previous missions, his ideas and dumb stories with the rest of the gestalt.

But, even with all of that chatting, productivity had also gone up severely.

If he dismissed Long Haul now, no doubt the rest of high command would raise an eyebrow. One of the ex-cons was finally useful, not wrecking anything and working , why was Prowl being difficult this time?

So he kept his thoughts to himself. Tried to keep chatting to a minimum, tried not to look at him as he worked. It worked somewhat, Hauler must have noticed the shift but luckily decided to not press him about it. He never pressed him about anything, just let him figure things out in his own time.

And then everything got a lot harder.

With Mixmaster and Scavenger planetside, the ration rotation took a strange turn, When Long Haul helped him, it would usually be either Crusher or Hook who brought the two desk-bound mechs their energon and Prowl noticed he would end up seeing the two mechs more than usually, they checked in on them more often and they also stuck around for longer. Probably either bored or missing their bondmates. Prowl wouldn’t admit it, but he also thought the halls were a bit too quiet without Scavanger’s endless chatting and Mixmasters rumbling engine, that would purr every time he was excited.

It was like that today, but today something had been slightly off.

A new pile of datawork was stacked by a chair opposite of his desk. Long Haul was still in his spot, seemingly having no intention of abandoning it. Prowl had asked him about the chair, when he had come in after a short break and Hauler had just shrugged. Feigning ignorance. The reports looked like medic reports. Something he decided he would get around to after clearing the newly arrived peace declarations. 

Not that he had needed to worry about them at all.

Long Haul answered the rapping on his door as Hook brought them their energon. He gave the crane a thanks before noticing that he had three cubes with him. Alright he wanted to refuel with them, that wasn’t a problem, it was becoming increasingly more common. 

What was a problem was when Hook took a seat in the newly acquired chair and picked a datapad from the pile, and started to go over it like he belonged there.

Like it was completely standard for him to work in Prowl’s office.

“What are you doing?” Prowl asked, having a sinking feeling in his tank. Hook looked at him if he just asked his first stupid question ever, maybe he had. He could clearly see what was going on afterall.

“Do you want me to take a look at your optics?” The medic said with no small amount of sass. Prowl felt his wings bristle.

Prowl palmed his optics hard.

“Hook, one thing is Long Haul helping me out but if you start doing your work here, the others will get ideas and start coming in here as well. My office is not a clubhouse, I need it to be cleared in case someone needs to discuss something with me.”

Hook looked at him with a strange expression, then he smiled and raised the energon to his lips. “Sure boss, if you need the room cleared let me know and I'll throw out any stragglers for you.” The medic answered and looked over at Long Haul who huffed in indignance.

Fine, it was whatever, he could deal with this. And sure , he could definitely deal with the way his spark thrummed, pleased with the decision. Stupid gestalt, always so clingy. Always so fragging close. As long as it didn’t get more crowded, it was fine, he told himself-

...until Bonecrusher peaked his head inside.

“Aw, why didn’t anyone tell me we were refueling here? I don’t want to refuel on my own!”

This was definitely going to be a problem.

Chapter Text

That was not his last encounter with Hightower.

Not even close.

Prowl sat in conference with the rest of command when Hightower came in, head held high, every picture of a dignified, successful, autobot commander. He had improved on their plans for rebuilding Cybertron. Had improved on Prowl’s already finished plans, that he had fought with high command for months on. And they loved him. Prowl had to manually lock his face and doorwings, trying not to show his anger when high command praised Hightower on his work.

“What a brilliant plan” “-excellent eye for detail” “-A true architect”

It was so sickening Prowl almost wanted to purge his tanks. Optimus gave him a sideglance from his own chair and Prowl pointedly ignored him.

Hightower had been here for what? A decacycle. And everyone was fawning over him like he had invented the fragging wheel. Pathetic.

Scrapper had been an architect. He had been truly brilliant.

Prowl almost bristled. He didn’t know where that thought had come from. It certainly hadn’t been his. He clamped down on the bond again, it never seemed to close as much as he wanted to, and if he didn’t actively hold it closed it would start to mingle. He tried not to spare the dead much thought, especially Scrapper. it made him feel…insufficient.

The meeting ended way too fast, he had barely said a word during the entire thing. He just wanted to go back to his office, bury himself in the datawork he knew was still waiting and take care of preparations. Security and escorts for the construction workers. Food and barracks. Hightower had insisted on his own team of workers, despite the terrain that had been chosen was far more suitable for larger frames due to the hard ground and rubble still littering every surface. Sturdy wheels were what they needed. Autobots could do the work, but they needed experts, some real heavylifters-

aaand here came Optimus-fragging-Prime. Just his luck.

“Prowl,” Optimus said friendly. Always so goddamn friendly, it was no surprise everyone fragging loved him. It made Prowl grind his denta.

“Optimus.” he greeted back coldly. The other mechs filled out the room, chatting easily. No one even spared him a glance. He had kept these fraggers alive.

“You look tired,” Optimus told him with a small smile. Funny, everyone told him that these days.

“Well I have a lot of things to do.” Prowl stated, looking off to the side and accidentally catching Hightower talking with a small group of commanders. it made something in his spark clench uncomfortable. That had never been him.

“How are things settling with your unit?” Optimus asked, Prowl knew he had seen his face just now. But thankfully he didn’t comment on it.

“Settling is maybe saying too much, nothing ever seems to settle with that lot.” Prowl said, knowing he was being harsh but not really caring. Optimus tilted his head at him.

“Really? because i could have sworn i-” Optimus suddenly went quiet and gave a soft shake of his head. “Nevermind, take it at your own pace.” he said and Prowl had to wonder what he meant. No one… no one knew that he had been …indulging, in the gestaltbond. 

Everyone knew he had been forced into the Combaticon gestalt, and that he had had Hightower’s head back in the rec room almost a decacycle ago. Everyone knew gestalt programming could make any mech get protective, so no one had batted an eye at it. Everyone knew the ex-cons were chasing his tailpipe, and everyone knew Prowl hated their guts. No one knew that maybe, maybe, he didn’t hate them all that much. So what did Optimus mean with-

“Will you be surveying the building site?” Optimus asked him and Prowl looked confused. that wasn’t part of his duties.

“No sir, Hightower has already stated that his team-” Prowl started, repeating what had just been planned during the meeting, staying professional as he did, and completely ignoring the coil of anger in his tank. 

“But you disagree.” Optimus interrupted him, knowing that Prowl was thinking of something different. Prowl stopped, looked up at Optimus and he couldn’t stop himself from narrowing his eyes at their glorious leader.

“Sir, it hardly matters what I think anymore.” He said coldly. This was almost a proven fact at this point. Prowl could see the signs. Who was he even here? A disgraced Autobot tactician who went too far, who killed people for ambition, cozying up with the enemy, the Construcicons of all mechs. Shameful. He, who was only allowed back by Optimus Prime’s bleeding spark.

“Prowl, I want you to oversee the reconstruction of this sector.” Optimus said, his voice taking on that tone it did when he pulled rank. He rarely did that anymore, but it still made Prowl want to stand at attention. He didn’t know what Optimus was playing at. If everyone loved Hightower so much, they could let him carry the burden.

“Sir, Hightower has already made plans for the Kaon region, as you saw-” Prowl started through gritted denta.

“Oh I saw. But I will not give him clearance for those plans.” Optimus stated and sighed tiredly. “Prowl, I know we have rarely seen eye to eye. But I don't believe just anyone can restore Kaon and make it what it was supposed to be. Hightower is a brilliant commander, he has all the qualifications but…”

Prowl felt the unease in his spark settle for a moment. What in the frag was Optimus thinking…

“Kaon is a special place. The rebellion was born there, in the mines, where Cybertronians bled and died. And it’s there the Decepticons will go when they come home. Hightower wants to make Kaon into another Iacon. That isn’t what Kaon is.” Optimus said wistfully and suddenly it made sense.

Optimus didn’t want an Autobot commander, who was anti-decepticon, to declare how the former Decepticons, now civilians, should live. Optimus feared another war, before they had even had a chance to let the dust settle.

Prowl didn’t know what to say. On one hand, he knew Optimus was right. Hightower would most likely aim to indirectly punish the ex-cons who came home, offer them the exact same thing they had fought against, if not something worse. He thought back to the pictures he had seen of his gestaltmates lives, before the war. They had been lucky to find each other. But their lives had been harsh. He thought of Long Haul, who had wanted to enter politics at one point, but had been denied instantly and… would any of them survive Hightower’s version of Kaon?

His spark clenched painfully.

There was a flicker of comfort. Prowl immediately tightened the bond back up.

“So what do you want me to do sir?” Prowl asked him. Hightower was certain he was going to be the one rebuilding Kaon. But right now it sounded like Optimus wanted to go behind his back. Surely Prowl’s reputation could’t take another hit like this.

“I want you to take your plans, take your team of trained professionals-” Optimus was really spelling it out, wow. “Go to Kaon and start rebuilding, just do something and make sure that something fits the people who’ll actually live there.” Optimus sighed. Prowl felt his spark flutter, and yet he growled in annoyance. He wanted the job, wanted the trust and recognition, but… that would mean he’d have to cater to the warframes, and the part of him that had been active in the war for so long, really didn’t like that.

And to be completely honest? Right now he really didn't want to be doing anyone any favors. Maybe the constructions were starting to rub off on him but… Hook had been right, did he owe the autobots any more? 

“And just how do you want me to do that?” He asked stiffly, making Optimus look at him like that answer was obvious.

“Just do it like you would be living there.” He said with a knowing smile. Was that an insult? 

And then the fragger gave him a nod and turned on his heels. As if prowl would ever live in a primus forsaken place like Kaon.

Well, at least he was back to calling the shots.

Even if it meant he had to keep the warframe’s best interest in mind. To the pit with them.

He was the last one to leave the meeting, and he wasn't even surprised when he saw Bonecrusher leaning on the wall next to the office. His loyal green and purple shadow, who had been on his tailpipe since he got out of the brig. Prowl didn even greet him, but Bonecrusher still fell in line behind him.

“Which one was it?” He asked Prowl with that gruff low tone. The one that had upset Prowl. Prowl shook his head. Dismissing the question, it didn't matter and he didn't want Bonecrusher digging around in his feelings to start off with.

“We have been given new orders.” Prowl said instead. He didn't even need to look to know Bonecrusher was listening with rapt attention.

“Tell the others to pack their equipment. We're going to Kaon.”

Chapter Text

It was a strange sensation.

To be commanding his team. Frag, to think they were actually a team now, officially . The last time they had been on a “mission” together, it was because the glitches had invited themselves along for his solo outing. And before that… well, he tried not to think too much about that.

There were a lot of things he tried not to think about these days.

But he was commanding again, allowed to be in charge, with his gestalt.

After everything.

Surely this was all a weird fever dream. There had to be protocols against this, for simply him being in command at all ever again.

But here they were, loading up a transport ship with equipment and rations and just about all of their personal belongings. They were to set up a base of operation and start construction right away. They would eventually build barracks for the other workers that would come in later to help them. But for this first stretch, they would be on their own. 

Prowl wasn't sure how long they would be planetside, but if his suspicions were right, it would be a very long while.

Probably one way to ease the tension between him and high command. Or simply a way to get rid of him.

It was bittersweet in a way, wrong and right and somehow it felt like the start of something. Or the end, he wasn’t quite sure anymore.

Prowl straightened as Hook came towards him, looking far too pleased. No doubt the medic was looking forward to being back on the field and not having to follow another medic’s rules and play nice.

All of them had been excited about going to Kaon. They had pretty much jumped him when they heard from Bonecrusher and they had all instantly gone to pack, not needing any order or motivation. It had been their home once and they, as well as most other Decepticons, were looking forward to rebuilding. To think even with all the trauma of war. With all the horrors they had survived there… They still wanted to go home.

“That's the last of it boss, we're ready to go when you are” Hook informed with an easy smile.

“Good, no point in lingering then.” Prowl answered with an even tone, he was determined to ignore the unease in his tank.

He felt the ghost of a tug on the closed bond but ignored it. Scavenger needed to stop doing that.

He was looking forward to being back on the field, was as close to ecstatic as he could get at calling the shots. It would be nice to have something else to do besides datawork. But only a fool would ignore the fact that he was willingly going to Kaon. As an Autobot high commanding officer. As the Prowl . Every Decepticon and Autobot- excuse me, every cybertronian , on the ground would not be thrilled to see him, not after what he had done.

Hook titled his head at him, still smiling. The medic couldn't sense his emotions, he had made sure to clamp the bond extra tightly today.

“You know, if you’re w-”

“What is the meaning of this?!” A voice boomed and both Prowl and Hook turned in unison. Coming storming towards them were Hightower. Frag, he looked pissed.

It thrilled Prowl to see.

“Who the frag do you think you are?” The commander growled at Prowl who straightened into a firm line, meeting Hightowers glare straight on as he marched up in his face.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing at Prowl, but once high command hears of this-” Prowl felt his doorwings tingling with information and he didn’t even need to turn around to know Bonecrusher was right up behind him, looming over him. The drill’s EM field encasing him and promising pain and dismembering, as he lifted a finger in warning at Hightower.

“Watch yourself, sir, ” Bonecrusher growled. Prowl didn’t need the backup, he was perfectly capable of taking care of a vain commander by himself. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how Hightower stilled. There were few things as intimidating as an angry warframe, and even with his many eons of experience, Hightower knew a threat when he saw one.

Prowl knew they were all around him, having moved to him the moment Hook’s senses had alerted them.

It made him feel…something.

Hightower wisely stepped back from Prowl.

“You are walking on thin ice Prowl.” He continued, his eyes locked on the Praxian, his denta bared like he was about to bite. He had never seen Hightower this mad, it was delightful. “I’ll inform high command of this. They will not be please at you usurpering th-”

“I am doing no such thing.” Prowl cut in vehemently. “I was asked to oversee the reconstruction of Kaon by Optimus Prime. So in case you haven’t been informed yet, sir, your plans for Kaon have not been approved and we will be continuing on with the already agreed upon proposition.” Prowl said with an elegance that surprised even himself. He wanted nothing more than to throttle the commander.

But the way Hightower scowled at him as he didn’t know what to say, that would do just fine as well.

Oh yes, that was doing no small thing for Prowl.

“If you have issues with the direction the project is taking, I will suggest speaking with our dear Prime about it.” Prowl continued, trying to hold back a smirk at how angry Hightower was getting.

He felt his own satisfaction reflected back at him across the bond and he softly closed it this time. That had felt nice.

“So, if there's nothing else, we have a schedule to keep” he finished haughtily and turned on his pedes. The constructicons behind him parted for him, keeping an eye on Hightower while their commander entered the transport ship, and only after, did they follow him inside.

“What a piece of scrap that one.” Hook said as he sat in the chair next to Prowl. Bonecrusher and Long Haul taking the steering panel. Funny how the two largest frames, the ones who barely fit in the chairs, were the ones steering.

Prowl only gave a small noise in agreement. Hightower was a piece of work and frankly, he was glad to be far away from him and his shiny medals.

They settled in and Long Haul steered them out into the darkness of space. 

Usually Prowl found these trips cold and frankly, boring. But the five warframes around him heated up the space nicely and… well he might as well get some work done.

He had just pulled out the building plans again, about to go over them for the 700th time- He just needed to go over them one last time, make sure it was perfect, he wasn't an architect, not like Hightower or Scrapper, he wasn't-... he just needed to go over them one last time. -when Mixmaster leaned down over Prowl’s shoulder, and the praxian irritably tried to shoo him away. Not that it ever fragging worked.

“What?” He finally growled when Mixmaster refused to leave after the third shooing motion.

Mixmaster gave him a beast-like grin and then dug into his subspace to present Prowl with a cube of energon and a datapad.

A datapad?

“What's this?” Prowl asked as he took it, entirely ignoring how the mixer ran his claws over the back of Prowl's hand.

“Just some light reading I figured you would enjoy.” He said with that stupid ass smirk that made Prowl's plating tighten. Definitely because it unnerved him. Yes. Definitely.

Mixmaster sat down in the chair next to Scavenger, the smaller mech instantly latched onto him and started yapping about something unimportant.

Scavenger seemed to yap a lot more than usual lately. Prowl found he didn't mind.

He looked down at the datapad he'd been provided with. And his temper flared instantly. His doorwings rising and he was tempted to throw it right in Mixmaster’s face.

“Towards Peace” It read. Prowl knew what this was. He had studied it back when the war began.

The fragger had given him Megatron's slagging manifesto.

Chapter Text

“Soooo…”

This couldn’t be happening. Not again, not so soon.

“Boss, I think we might have a problem.”

He wasn’t even in his office today, having decided to take a break for once and take a turn about the base, he didn’t know how they had found him.

“Prowl come on, we need you here.”

Was it because of their bond? He didn’t know exactly where they were at all time, surely they couldn’t know where he was.

“Boss?”

Maybe they had a tracker on him. No, now he was giving them too much credit, there’s no way for them to plan ahead like that. Maybe Hook but then he would have to get his hands on one first and Prowl would bet his right front light he didn’t have that type of connection anymore.

Then again, maybe they had just searched every nook and cranny until they found him. That seemed more likely.

“Prowl, I know you can hear me, we have a problem.” A gruff voice said.

He felt his legs pick up, maybe if he just walked faster .

“Oh, come on Prowl! We have a problem!”

“I have no doubts that you caused it, and I want no part of it.” He yelled back, refusing to turn around to look at them, to evaluate the damage. He knew the report would be on his desk, knew he could run as much as he wanted but when he was back behind that desk he would have to deal with it.

But that was a problem for future Prowl.

“It’s not that bad Prowl!” Hook yelled back at him and he swore the mech was laughing, he could see the way his optic squinted in amusement behind the visor and he didn’t even need to look at him.

“No thank you!”

“We’re not covered in goo this time!” Scavenger added helpfully. 

It was not helpful.

“I really don’t care.” Said Prowl, determined to not acknowledge the issue.

“It’s alright, I can watch him walk away all day.” Mixmaster added with a whistle. Prowl felt his wings twist in annoyance but he refused to give in, instead he sent all his annoyance across the bond, all focused on the chemist, who proceeded to laugh heartily.

“Aww babe it’s alright, i like you angry.” He taunted and Prowl felt the growl of his engine. 

Frag this, and frag them.