Work Text:
ALERT ! : Curfew in 5breem - 7breem ago
ALERT ! : Curfew Breach - 2breem ago
ALERT ! : Curfew Breach - 1.5breem ago
ALERT ! : Curfew Breach || Message: Please return to your hab immediately. - 1breem ago
ALERT ! : Curfew Breach - 0.5breem ago
ALERT ! : Curfew Breach || Message: Bluestreak. - 1klik ago
The ongoing buzzing of constant notifications threatened to vibrate his processor into combustion, and honestly, Bluestreak would let it.
Bluestreak huffed and threw his helm back into soft mesh pillows with a groan.
He was lying all comfortably in Sunny’s berth, the crackling feeling of emerging from recharge dissipating far out of Bluestreak’s grasp far too soon...
All because of Prowl.
Ugh.
Bluestreak rolled his helm to the side and nudged his heavy-plated frontliner, spark not at all in it.
”Sunny, wake up. Prowl’s gonna kick my aft.”
He got nothing but the sound of a blocked vent in response.
Said yellow mech was passed out, deadweight pressed face-first against Bluestreak’s abdomen and lower frame, which would’ve been fine and welcomed had he not been a heavy-plated frontliner who had Bluestreak practically glued to his recharge berth.
…He had missed his curfew.
Not that slag like that mattered! He was a grown mech!! He had graduated from Prowl’s care vorns ago, though they still hung out—strictly professionally, of course—rather often. Just because Bluestreak had finally proven himself to be worthy of being stationed at the Ark.
But because Bluestreak had dared to inform Prowl on his and Sunstreaker’s relatively new-ish relationship, Prowl had pulled all his dormant mentor protectiveness out of his aft and broken into his hab the next cycle to roughly shake Bluestreak out of recharge to inform him of his new curfew.
Bluestreak was a grown mech!! He wasn’t even lying about it like everyone knew Bumblebee was!!
Ugh.
He pressed a servo behind his chevron in an attempt to comfort his aching and overheating processor. Prowl had not let up.
One alert, bypassing the delirious fog of his helmache, sent a jolt of horror down his struts.
ALERT ! : Curfew Breach || Message: I will come to retrieve and escort you to your hab. - 1klik ago
Bluestreak would’ve jumped to his pedes and fled into Earth’s organic wilderness if he were able.
“Sunny, Sunny,” Bluestreak hissed, now propped up by an elbow and actually shaking Sunny with the passion and urgency only a slagged off mentor swiftly approaching could inspire.
Sunny groaned and tried nuzzling further against Bluestreak’s stomach and beneath his bumper, but, as cute as it was, it was not the time.
Prowl could show up from across the ship within half a breem. Bluestreak swore on his spark that Prowl had to be sprinting down some secret fragging passages to be popping up from one place to another so quickly. He would ask Jazz if he’d shown Prowl any or if he’d found them himself, but Jazz would probably just blush and swoon excessively at the thought and Bluestreak didn’t want to deal with all that.
Nevertheless, Bluestreak wrapped a servo around one of Sunny’s helmfins and jerked him up to face him optic to bleary optic.
”Unless you want Prowl to order your spike sliced off, you’ve gotta get off and away from me,” he said firmly, shaking Sunny once.
If there was one way to wake a mech up, that was it. Sunny was off of him and across the hab on Sideswipe’s abandoned berth in a sparkturn.
“LOCK DISARMED - OFFICER OVERRIDE,”
Red Alert’s prerecorded voice blared from the door’s alarm, right before it flew open to reveal a bristling Prowl.
And, to be so for real, Bluestreak had no fragging clue why Prowl was so overprotective of him in his relationship with Sunny. Prowl had been with Jazz for vorns, and Primus knew they had spent the night in each other’s habs even before they recognized their very obvious and embarrassingly sappy feelings for each other. Bluestreak had been cursed with a front-row seat to their pining that had begun before he’d even met either of them.
Way too long story short, Prowl had no leg to stand on when it came to his expectations of Bluestreak being chaste and demure.
If he was scared of Sunny being bigger and stronger than Bluestreak, his own partner’s frame was constructed more out of blades than plating, making Sunny and his brute strength look like—at most—a sparkling on some strong steroids.
Bluestreak tried to remember any possible way he could act casual, but his overworked processor could do nothing but offer a shrug before sputtering out into nothing.
Prowl totally planned this, the slagger. Between his battle plans and taking stock of the whole Ark, he would spend his free-time formulating some devious scheme just to blatantly micromanage Bluestreak’s sparkling relationship.
///
Bluestreak squirmed in Prowl’s office—the one in his hab, reserved for personal, non-executive matters, because of course Prowl had a special office exclusively for family-and-friend interrogation—under Prowl’s heavy gaze that dripped in disapproval.
From the way Sunny stiffly sat, claws digging into the armrests, Prowl’s tactically placed crystals and singular framed photo didn’t perform their expected duty of making his hab desk more “homely.”
Not that they could do much against Prowl’s piercing optics and rigid posture, sat before them with servos folded and doorwings held professionally with only a twinge of irritation showing here or there.
When Prowl actually spoke, Bluestreak almost missed it over his raging helmache.
”I believe we should set up some rules regarding the relationship you two are… fostering,” Prowl said confidently, as if that wasn’t ridiculous.
It was Bluestreak’s relationship! It wasn’t even his first one!! Prowl hadn’t acted like this with previous paramours, though he was a little more overprotective than most rescuer-turned-brother-slash-mentor type mechs. He hadn’t postured any of Bluestreak’s other partners into submission before dragging them to his hab office!!
Out of the corner of his optic, Bluestreak saw Sunny’s furrowed faceplates and the telltale sign of something about to go horrifically wrong—an opening intake—and jumped in before Sunny had the chance to intentionally get assassinated.
”Prowl,” he started, relief filling his lines as Sunny’s intake snapped shut, “What are you doing? And why? Sunny and I are both adults, I’m an adult. I’m not under your care anymore- not that your care was bad!! I appreciate it and will always be thankful for you and what you sacrificed for me- ah-“ he reset his optics, “Primus, off topic- I’m not a mechling anymore! Any boundaries between Sunny and I should be made by us, not a third party!”
Sunny nodded his agreement firmly.
”What are your rules, then?” Prowl asked, posture unchanged and visibly unimpressed.
And, uhhhhhhhhhh,,
Bluestreak glanced at Sunny and found equally blank optics staring straight back at him.
”Welllll,” he began. “Um…”
///
”No staying out late. No touching. No looking at each other-“
”-No looking at each other? I- Prowl. What the frag. This is insane.“
”You already have a curfew—one you broke immediately after receiving—which is to encourage you to return to your hab alone in a timely manner. Doing so prevents unwanted salacious-“
”-Unwanted?? Sunny’s my partner, he’s allowed to be a little salacious if it’s with me.“
”No interface. That includes tactical, cable, spike or valve, sparkmerge, sparkplay-“
“-Don’t play with me! I know you and Jazz didn’t follow that slag even before you started dating!”
“…That is irrelevant.”
”’Irrelevant’- Next you’ll continue with the ‘thy shall not lay thine eyes upon the other’ slag—don’t look at me like that, that’s exactly what you sound like—and you’ll pretend like Jazz’s visor makes his ogling of your aft not count! You are the worst!”