Birthday gift
Happy Birthday camfield !
Untitled
Warnings: hints of Prowl/Jazz
Rating: K
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Bluestreak. Spike and Carly mentionned.
Summary: It's a big day for their human friends...
If anything, it was beautiful day. It certainly was one for the Autobots and a couple of assorted humans.
Ironhide was actually glaring as he watched the preparations. Half an human hour, they wasted already. And, as he looked as once more whatever Prowl was doing failed, he snapped.
“For the love of Primus, can’t you hold STILL!”
Bluestreak smiled sheepishly, his doorwings fluttering as he squirmed in place. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m too nervous, I mean I never had to do something like that, so I guess I’m a bit worried I’ll mess up, which would be bad, because I really want Carly and Spike to have a wonderful day, but I just can’t stop moving them, because foreign fabric is causing perturbation for the sensors, and it feels weird, and I don’t like feeling weird, and I…” He was making big gesture as he spoke, making whatever accessories already pinned on him fall down.
Prowl sighed. “Yes Bluestreak, I understand perfectly well you’re nervous. It’s a big day, it’s the first time we’re doing something like that, and we ALL want it to be perfect for our friends. I know having your doorwings decorated with anything might feels… strange, but it won’t last, and you won’t even feel it afterward. Now, hold still a bit more and let me finish to prepare you,” he said a bit more gently as the SIC tried to put more white ribbons upon the grey gunner’s sensor panels.
It was an human tradition to decorate the cars transporting the bride and groom to the altar for them to be blessed by a priest and be declared lawfully wedded. Adorning the ribbons and flowers bought for them by their humans’ friends was almost mandatory if they wanted to assist to Spike and Carly’s nuptial ceremony (which, to Prowl, was kinda pointless; it was well-known the two humans hadn’t waited to be ‘married’ to copulate quite frequently, so why should someone else have to recognize an union the Autobots had acknowledged as such for years?).
Nobody had thought, however, it would be so bad to put accessories on Bluestreak. Not that the younger mech wasn’t REALLY trying to be good. But his doorwings’ sensors were far too sensitive, and had almost grow a mind of their own, moving of their own volition each time someone reached for the gunner’s back with a ribbon.
And Bluestreak felt somehow bad to be so involuntarily twitchy, when both Smokescreen and Prowl, who should suffer from the same problem being fellow Praxians, were doing just fine.
Of course, Prowl had no intention to reveal to the younger mech he was merely used to the sensation created by foreign elements on his sensory panels because of some… amorous games he had indulged in with various lovers. And the SIC knew for a fact Smokescreen enjoyed being bound during interfacing, so really, ribbons were nothing at all for them.
Bluestreak, though, had no such prior experience, and it was unfortunate in the present circumstances. Prowl was trying to be patient and careful, and despite Bluestreak’s doorwings’s will, he had already managed to put on him about half of the ornaments Carly had insisted the gunner to put on.
However, it was taking too much time for some mechs.
“Better stay still, or we’ll have someone sit on you like we had to do for Red,” groused Ironhide.
Bluestreak looked hurt and his doorwings drooped. Prowl gave Ironhide a look, absolutely not impressed by the old mech’s comments.
“Aw, don’t listen to him, kiddo,” grinned Jazz as he watched the show, already ready, white and red roses adorning his chest in strategic places (roses Prowl would be all the more happy to remove himself tonight). “He’s just jealous our dear Carly didn’t ask him to carry her for the day because you’re far cuter than him.”
It did the trick.
Ironhide sputtered and latched into angry denial, Jazz laughed, and even Bluestreak giggled a bit, his doorwings fluttering faster.
Prowl shook his head with indulgence and went to pin down yet another ribbon. Better finish quickly before the bride became impatient, after all.
Untitled
Warnings: hints of Prowl/Jazz
Rating: K
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Bluestreak. Spike and Carly mentionned.
Summary: It's a big day for their human friends...
If anything, it was beautiful day. It certainly was one for the Autobots and a couple of assorted humans.
Ironhide was actually glaring as he watched the preparations. Half an human hour, they wasted already. And, as he looked as once more whatever Prowl was doing failed, he snapped.
“For the love of Primus, can’t you hold STILL!”
Bluestreak smiled sheepishly, his doorwings fluttering as he squirmed in place. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m too nervous, I mean I never had to do something like that, so I guess I’m a bit worried I’ll mess up, which would be bad, because I really want Carly and Spike to have a wonderful day, but I just can’t stop moving them, because foreign fabric is causing perturbation for the sensors, and it feels weird, and I don’t like feeling weird, and I…” He was making big gesture as he spoke, making whatever accessories already pinned on him fall down.
Prowl sighed. “Yes Bluestreak, I understand perfectly well you’re nervous. It’s a big day, it’s the first time we’re doing something like that, and we ALL want it to be perfect for our friends. I know having your doorwings decorated with anything might feels… strange, but it won’t last, and you won’t even feel it afterward. Now, hold still a bit more and let me finish to prepare you,” he said a bit more gently as the SIC tried to put more white ribbons upon the grey gunner’s sensor panels.
It was an human tradition to decorate the cars transporting the bride and groom to the altar for them to be blessed by a priest and be declared lawfully wedded. Adorning the ribbons and flowers bought for them by their humans’ friends was almost mandatory if they wanted to assist to Spike and Carly’s nuptial ceremony (which, to Prowl, was kinda pointless; it was well-known the two humans hadn’t waited to be ‘married’ to copulate quite frequently, so why should someone else have to recognize an union the Autobots had acknowledged as such for years?).
Nobody had thought, however, it would be so bad to put accessories on Bluestreak. Not that the younger mech wasn’t REALLY trying to be good. But his doorwings’ sensors were far too sensitive, and had almost grow a mind of their own, moving of their own volition each time someone reached for the gunner’s back with a ribbon.
And Bluestreak felt somehow bad to be so involuntarily twitchy, when both Smokescreen and Prowl, who should suffer from the same problem being fellow Praxians, were doing just fine.
Of course, Prowl had no intention to reveal to the younger mech he was merely used to the sensation created by foreign elements on his sensory panels because of some… amorous games he had indulged in with various lovers. And the SIC knew for a fact Smokescreen enjoyed being bound during interfacing, so really, ribbons were nothing at all for them.
Bluestreak, though, had no such prior experience, and it was unfortunate in the present circumstances. Prowl was trying to be patient and careful, and despite Bluestreak’s doorwings’s will, he had already managed to put on him about half of the ornaments Carly had insisted the gunner to put on.
However, it was taking too much time for some mechs.
“Better stay still, or we’ll have someone sit on you like we had to do for Red,” groused Ironhide.
Bluestreak looked hurt and his doorwings drooped. Prowl gave Ironhide a look, absolutely not impressed by the old mech’s comments.
“Aw, don’t listen to him, kiddo,” grinned Jazz as he watched the show, already ready, white and red roses adorning his chest in strategic places (roses Prowl would be all the more happy to remove himself tonight). “He’s just jealous our dear Carly didn’t ask him to carry her for the day because you’re far cuter than him.”
It did the trick.
Ironhide sputtered and latched into angry denial, Jazz laughed, and even Bluestreak giggled a bit, his doorwings fluttering faster.
Prowl shook his head with indulgence and went to pin down yet another ribbon. Better finish quickly before the bride became impatient, after all.