TF: On Report
Rating: PG-13
Series: G1
Pairings: Prowl/Springer
Summary: Springer gets to report to Prowl, and things don’t go quite as Prowl expected.
Warnings: Allusions to interfacing.
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten…
Authors Notes: For the tf_speedwriting Wednesday 13th October prompt 3 - “This wasn’t supposed to happen”.
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
Prompt: 3
Time: 50 minutes, and that includes getting interrupted by work. Dammit, must spend longer on these!
“Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“You’re telling me.” Springer grunted and sat up. “Not gonna say it wasn’t good though.”
“Frag you.”
“I believe you just did that.”
“How did this happen?”
“Well, you see when two mechs love one another…”
“We don’t love one another Springer.” Prowl reminded him sharply.
“Well, in that case, I got no fragging clue.”
“You came into my office.”
“Had to report to you.”
“No you didn’t.”
“But you sent me a message saying I did.”
“I did no such thing. Why would I want you to report to me rather than Prime?”
“Search me. No wait, think you did that too.” He grinned at the expression on Prowl’s face; confusion warring with desire and he had to admit it look good on the tactician.
“Jazz…”
“Jazz?”
“Jazz.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The request had been short and simple, exactly what Springer would have expected from Prowl. He was a little surprised by the request perhaps, but just put it down to the tactician being out to antagonise him. He’d been expecting an argument. They always argued when they spent too long in one another’s company.
What neither of them were expecting was to end up on the floor, hands scrabbling over each other’s armor, searching out the spots that made the other moan and writhe. Springer couldn’t be sure which one of them had made the first move, and he honestly couldn’t find it in himself to care any more. All he knew is that they connected and then everything was a blur of white hot overload.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So what do we do now?”
“We work out a way to get our own back on Jazz.” Prowl said firmly.
“I’ve got a better idea.”
“Oh?
“Yeah, we do that again.” Springer moved in to capture Prowl’s lips in a possessive kiss, grinning as they both fought for dominance.
Forget revenge, he needed to thank Jazz.