licouur

Content Warnings

NSFW, Established Polyamorous Relationship, Mild Power Dynamics, Overstimulation, Brief Emotional Distress/Insecurity

Brief Summary

Scavenger loves too much, too loudly, too desperately. The Constructicons love him anyway! and Prowl might just be the one to give him exactly what he needs.

Pairing: Constructicon Polycule (+ Prowl) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8,247

A/N: wassup, ya'll

So this... this got away from me a little bit. It started as a simple Scavenger/Prowl scene and somehow mutated. I regret nothing.

The heat in the lower levels of the Nemesis was something else.

Bonecrusher had been on shift for six cycles straight, breaking down a collapsed support beam that had been rusting in place for longer than most of the crew had been online. His servos ached, his vents were clogged with particulate, and his energon levels were hovering somewhere around "I'm going to commit violence if I don't get a cube in the next ten kliks."

But that wasn't what had his processor spinning.

It was Scavenger.

Scavenger, who had been hovering around the work site all cycle, shuffling his pedes and wagging that ridiculous shovel of his every time Bonecrusher so much as glanced his way. Scavenger, who kept pinging him with these little bursts of affection that were getting harder and harder to ignore. Scavenger, who was currently perched on a pile of debris maybe twenty feet away, watching him with those big, earnest optics like Bonecrusher was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

Bonecrusher tried to focus on the beam. He really did. But every time he brought his wrecking ball down, Scavenger would make this tiny, pleased sound that traveled right through the gestalt bond like a physical touch.

Stop that

Bonecrusher pinged him, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Stop what?

Scavenger pinged back, and Bonecrusher could feel him smiling.

You know what.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Bonecrusher snorted. He stood there for a moment, vents cycling hard, watching the dust settle.

When he turned around, Scavenger had moved closer. Much closer. Close enough that Bonecrusher could see the way his fans were working overtime, could feel the heat radiating off his frame.

"Hey" Scavenger said, soft and sweet and oh-so-careful.

"Hey yourself" Bonecrusher replied, and he was surprised at how rough his own voice sounded.

"What're you doing down here? Thought you were supposed to be cataloguing that salvage haul."

"Finished early." Scavenger shuffled closer, his shovel giving an involuntary wag. "Thought I'd… come see how you were doing."

"Uh-huh." Bonecrusher crossed his arms, watching Scavenger watch him. "And how do I look like I'm doing?"

Scavenger's fans kicked up another notch. "You look… really good, actually."

Bonecrusher felt a grin spreading across his faceplate. This was too easy. It was always too easy with Scavenger, and that was exactly why he loved it.

"Yeah?" He took a step closer, then another, backing Scavenger up against the remains of the support beam. "How good?"

Scavenger made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a laugh. "Crusher…"

"Come on, Scav. Tell me." Bonecrusher leaned in, close enough that his vents were stirring Scavenger's plating, close enough that he could see every tiny flicker of his optics. "What'd you come down here for, really?"

Scavenger's shovel was practically vibrating now. His fields were a mess of want and nerves and that overwhelming, adoring affection that always made Bonecrusher's spark do something complicated and inconvenient.

"I just wanted to see you" Scavenger admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "missed you."

Bonecrusher's spark gave a traitorous little flutter. He crushed it ruthlessly.

"Missed me, huh?" He braced one servo against the beam behind Scavenger's head, boxing him in. "Missed me enough to follow me all the way down here and stare at me for six cycles?"

"Maybe." Scavenger's optics were enormous behind that visor of his. "Is that… is that okay?"

Bonecrusher could have said yes. He could have pulled Scavenger into a kiss and taken him right there against the debris, could have let Scavenger's adoration wash over him until he forgot all about his aching joints and his low energon and the six cycles of backbreaking labor.

Instead, he glanced around the hangar. Empty. The rest of the crew had cleared out cycles ago. It was just them and the dust and the hum of the Nemesis's engines.

"Scav"

he said, and his voice had gone low and rough in a way that made Scavenger's whole frame tremble. "You know what happens when you follow me around like this, right?"

Scavenger shook his helm. He was trembling, actually trembling, and Bonecrusher could feel his excitement through the bond like a live wire.

"You get what you want" Bonecrusher continued, leaning in until his lips were brushing Scavenger's audial. "Don't you, sweetspark? You come down here all needy and sweet, and I give you what you want."

Scavenger made a sound that was almost a sob. His servos came up to grip Bonecrusher's arms, clinging like he might fall over otherwise.

"Please." he whispered. "Crusher, please."

Bonecrusher smiled, sharp and satisfied. "Please what?"

"Please." Scavenger repeated, and Bonecrusher could feel how much he was holding back, how hard he was trying not to just beg outright. "need you—"

"Yeah?" Bonecrusher's servo slid down, tracing along Scavenger's side until it came to rest on his hip. "Need me how?"

Scavenger's ventilations were coming fast and uneven. "Need you to—"

"Scavenger."

The voice came from behind them, cool and measured, first, Bonecrusher freezed, but when he saw who the voice belonged to, he relaxed.

Scavenger and Crusher turned, slowly, to find Scrapper standing at the entrance to the hangar. Their leader's faceplate was unreadable, his visor giving nothing away, but Bonecrusher could feel the weight of his attention like a physical thing. oh, he was getting scolded.

"Scrapper" Bonecrusher said, and he was proud of how steady his voice came out. "Didn't see you there, baby."

"I'm sure you didn't." Scrapper stepped forward, ignoring Bonecrusher's attempt of flirting, his gait unhurried, his field carefully neutral.

"Scavenger, why don't you go get some energon? You've been down here all cycle."

Scavenger made a small, dismayed sound, but he was already moving, already disengaging from Bonecrusher's hold. "I'm sorry, Crusher- I am so so sorry."

He scurried away, his shovel dragging behind him. Bonecrusher watched him go, something uncomfortable twisting in his spark.

"You were supposed to have this finished by now." Scrapper said, once Scavenger was out of earshot.

Bonecrusher shrugged, affecting nonchalance. "Just got a little distracted. You know how Scav gets when he's bored. And also! I'm about to finish it, mech!"

"Mm." Scrapper was studying him now, his visor glinting in the dim light. "Distracted? you were about to make out with Scav here. What if someone sees you?"

"Well- that is a problem that still didn't happened"

Scrapper was quiet for a long moment. Then, without warning, he reached out and grabbed Bonecrusher by the chin, tilting his helm down until their optics met.

"Bonecrusher" he said, and his voice was soft in a way that made Bonecrusher's spark stutter. "I don't mind you having fun. You know that. But when there is work it has to be done."

"I know, I know. You dont have to make that speech again" Bonecrusher interrupted, and he hated how defensive he sounded. "And I do scan the area so no unwelcomed guest can startle us, if that's what you're worried about."

"I always have to tell you the same thing." Scrapper's thumb traced along Bonecrusher's jaw, gentle, almost affectionate. "And don't get Scav so worked up, he's sensitive, and you know that too. He pinged us all what was happening."

Bonecrusher laughed at the last part, he knew Scav would ping it. But also wanted to say that he knew exactly what he was doing, that Scavenger was fine with playing a little

But the truth was, Scrapper wasn't wrong about not being cautious, and he knew it.

"I'll be more careful." he heard himself say.

Scrapper's thumb stilled. Then, slowly, he smiled behind his mask.

"Good." He released Bonecrusher's chin, stepping back. "Now. I think you've done enough for today. Go fuel and get some recharge. I'll get Long Haul to finish this."

"Yeah, yeah." Bonecrusher rubbed his jaw where Scrapper had been holding it, trying to ignore the lingering warmth. "Bossy 'facer."

"Someone has to be." Scrapper was already turning away, heading back toward the entrance. "Oh, and Bonecrusher?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time you want to play with Scavenger, do it somewhere more private. I'd hate for someone else to walk in on you. And you know Prowl would get mad."

Bonecrusher watched him go, a strange mix of irritation and something warmer swirling in his spark. He hated when Scrapper was right. He really, really hated it.

But Scrapper was right, and Bonecrusher knew it. And the worst part was, he'd do it all again. Because that was just who he was.

He just needed to be smarter about it. That was all.

-

Scavenger found him later that cycle, in their shared hab.

"Hey" Scavenger said softly, hovering in the doorway. "Can we talk?"

Bonecrusher looked up from where he was cleaning his plating. "Course we can. Come in."

Scavenger shuffled inside, his shovel dragging nervously behind him. He sat down on the edge of the berth, his field radiating uncertainty.

"I'm sorry." Scavenger said, his voice small. "For earlier. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

"You didn't get me in trouble." Bonecrusher set down his cleaning cloth, moving to sit beside him. "Scrapper was just being Scrapper."

"But you were—" Scavenger's optics flickered. "You were-"

"Scav." Bonecrusher reached out, tilting Scavenger's chin up. "Look at me."

Scavenger's optics met his, wide and vulnerable.

"You didn't ruin anything" Bonecrusher said firmly. "I wanted to be nice to you. I always want to be nice to you. That's not your fault."

Scavenger's expression crumpled. "But I'm too much. I—"

"You're not too much." Bonecrusher pulled him into a hug, feeling Scavenger's frame relax against his. "You're exactly the right amount."

Scavenger made a small, wounded sound. His arms came up around Bonecrusher's neck, clinging.

"I love love love you" Scavenger whispered into his shoulder. "I love you so much it hurts."

"I know, sweetspark." Bonecrusher pressed a kiss to the top of his helm. "I know."

They stayed like that for a long time, it was rae for Boner's to be this sweet sweet sweet, wrapped up in each other. Bonecrusher could feel Scavenger's love pinging through the bond, warm and bright and overwhelming.

And he realized, with a start, that he didn't mind it. He'd never minded it. He just hadn't known how to handle it.

Maybe that was something he could learn.

-

The lab was a mess.

Beakers and vials covered every surface, their contents ranging from innocuous clear to alarming neon. Mixmaster navigated the chaos with practiced ease, finally producing a small cube of shimmering blue liquid.

"Here!" Mixmaster presented it with a flourish. "Drink up!"

Bonecrusher took the cube, studying it warily. "What's in it?"

"Trade secret!" Mixmaster's grin was blinding. "But I promise it's safe. I tested it myself!"

"On who?"

"Doesn't matter!" Mixmaster nudged the cube toward him. "Come on, Crush-Crusher. Live a little!"

Bonecrusher sighed. Then, against his better judgment, he drank.

The liquid went down smooth, with a faintly sweet aftertaste. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—

"Oh, frag."

Mixmaster's grin widened. "Good, right?"

Bonecrusher's frame was suddenly, inexplicably warm. His processors felt like they were wrapped in soft static, everything just a little bit fuzzy.

"What did you—" He tried to focus, but the words wouldn't come.

"Relaxation formula." Mixmaster supplied cheerfully. "Specially designed to lower inhibitions and promote feelings of well-being. I've been working on it for orns!"

Bonecrusher sank onto a nearby stool, his legs suddenly unreliable. "Mix. I'm gonna—I can't think."

"Good!" Mixmaster settled onto the stool beside him, close enough that their shoulders were touching. "That's the point."

And then he kissed him.

It was soft, gentle, nothing like Mixmaster's usual frantic energy. Bonecrusher melted into it, his processors too sluggish to do anything else.

"See?" Mixmaster murmured against his lips. "Isn't this better? Just… feeling."

Bonecrusher made a sound of agreement, too hazy to form words.

Mixmaster kissed him again, deeper this time. His servo slid along Bonecrusher's side, tracing the seams of his plating. He popped Bonecrusher's panel with practiced ease, his fingers finding the seam of his Spike, then, traveled lower, to his valve.

"I've been thinking about you." Mixmaster admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "All cycle. Couldn't stop."

"Mix—"

"Shh." Mixmaster's thumb traced his node, gentle circles that made Bonecrusher's hips twitch. "Just let me take care of you, okay? Let me make you feel good."

Bonecrusher's valve was already slick with lubricant, his frame responding before his processor could catch up. Mixmaster's fingers slid inside him, curling just right, and Bonecrusher's helm fell back with a wrecked moan.

"That's more like it." Mixmaster purred. "So good for me, Crush-crush. So beautiful."

He worked Bonecrusher open with a patience that seemed entirely out of character, stretching him slowly, deliberately. Bonecrusher's fans were cycling hard, his vents stuttering with every careful touch.

"Mix." he gasped. "Need—"

"I know what you need." Mixmaster's grin was sharp even through his own growing charge. "I always know."

He withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his spike, pressing in with a smooth, steady thrust. Bonecrusher's frame arched off the stool, a broken cry escaping his vocalizer.

"Frag—Mix— you are topping?"

"Mhm, feel good?" Mixmaster's hips were already moving, setting a rhythm that was just this side of too much. "Feel good, Crush-crush?" repeated.

Bonecrusher could only nod, his servos scrabbling for purchase on Mixmaster's frame. The fog from the concoction was still there, muffling his thoughts, leaving him with nothing but sensation.

And sensation was everything.

Mixmaster's spike filled him…not perfectly since he was lot smaller but it still felt good. He hit that deep spot that made his optics flicker. Each thrust sent sparks racing through his circuits, building the charge in his core until he could barely think.

"Come on." Mixmaster urged, his voice strained. "Come on, Crusher. I know you're close. I can feel you—"

He reached down, his thumb pressing against Bonecrusher's anterior node, and that was all it took.

Bonecrusher overloaded, his frame seizing around Mixmaster's spike. Mixmaster followed a moment later, burying himself deep with a shuddering groan.

For a long moment, they just stayed there, tangled together, vents cycling hard. Overheating.

Then Mixmaster pulled back, his grin somehow even wider. "Told you," he said. "Solution." Mixmaster was perched beside him, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

"You're a menace." Bonecrusher managed, his voice wrecked.

"Your menace." Mixmaster pressed a kiss to his helm. "Now get up. I've got more work to do."

Bonecrusher groaned, but he complied, his frame protesting the movement. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Probably." Mixmaster's field was warm, fond. "But what a way to go."

-

It was Scavenger who found him in the corridor that evening, his optics bright and his shovel wagging.

"Crusher! Crusher, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"What's up, Scav?" Bonecrusher asked, and he was surprised at how soft his voice came out.

"I found something!" Scavenger grabbed his arm, tugging him toward the storage bay. "Something amazing! You have to see!"

"woahh, slow down, mech—"

But Scavenger was already pulling him through the doors, his excitement bubbling over through the bond.

"Look!" Scavenger pointed at a pile of debris in the corner. "I found it in the salvage haul! Isn't it beautiful?"

Bonecrusher squinted at the debris. It was a hunk of metal, old and rusted, with traces of some kind of decorative inlay.

"It's… a piece of a wall?" he guessed.

"It's a piece of history!" Scavenger's visor was shining. "Look at it closely! The attention to detail! Some mech put their spark into this!"

Bonecrusher looked again. He still didn't see it.

But Scavenger was so excited. So earnest. His field was practically singing with joy.

"Yeah." Bonecrusher said, and he found he meant it…to some extent. "It's beautiful."

Scavenger beamed. "I knew you'd understand!"

And then he was off, babbling about the history and a dozen other things that Bonecrusher didn't quite follow.

Bonecrusher followed him, watching his shovel wag with every step.

This was what Scavenger was like when he got excited. When he loved something. When he felt something.

It was a lot. Too much, sometimes.

But it was also beautiful.

The problem was that Scavenger's intensity didn't always translate well.

It was three cycles later when Hook cornered him, his expression grim.

"We need to talk," Hook said, his voice clipped. "About Scavenger."

"What about him?"

"He's been… overwhelming." Hook's jaw tightened. "He won't stop talking about that piece of scrap he found. It's all he's been on about for three cycles."

Bonecrusher felt something uncomfortable twist in his spark. "He's just excited. He'll calm down."

"He's been following me around the medbay." Hook continued, his voice sharp. "Showing me sketches. Explaining the historical significance. I can't get any work done."

"Have you tried telling him to stop?"

"Yes." Hook's expression was flat. "He stopped for about a breem. Then he started again. I do feel affection towards him, love you would say. But he is being so pushy about that scrap thing."

Bonecrusher opened his mouth to argue—then closed it.

Because he'd been dealing with the same thing. Scavenger's excitement was infectious, but it was also exhausting. There was only so much enthusiasm a mech could handle.

"I'll talk with him." Bonecrusher said finally.

Hook's expression softened, just slightly. "Thank you."

-

Bonecrusher found Scavenger in their shared hab, surrounded by sketches and datapads and oh! scrap.

"Heya there, Scav."

"Hi, Crusher!" Scavenger's shovel gave a happy wag. "Look what I found! More information about the period!" He thrust a datapad toward him. "It's so fascinating, the techniques they used, the—"

"Yo yo yo. Chill, mech!"

Scavenger stopped mid-sentence.

"Maybe… maybe you could take a break?" Bonecrusher asked carefully. "Just for a little while…Also..Hook told me you were being a bit pushy with him about that…err, how you call it? historical piece, yeah. Well he may want some space. Oh- yeah. Don't get it wrong, Scav- ya know how he is, he loves you! but he also is…you know."

Scavenger's expression crumpled. "Hook's angry at me?"

"He's not angry. He's just—"

"He is." Scavenger's voice was small. "He's been ignoring me all cycle."

Bonecrusher's spark ached. "He's not ignoring you. He's just busy."

"But he used to listen." Scavenger's servos twisted together. "He used to let me talk. Now he just—"

"Scav." Bonecrusher crossed the room, pulling him into a hug. "He's not angry. He's just tired. We all get tired sometimes."

Scavenger was quiet for a long moment. Then, hesitantly, he leaned into the embrace.

"I didn't mean to bother him" he whispered. "I just—I get so excited. And I can't stop."

"I know. We all know."

-

It was Prowl who finally brought them together.

The Autobot had been observing their interactions for orns, watching the way they orbited each other. And he'd decided to do something about it.

"Please sit." Prowl said, gesturing to the seating area in his quarters.

The six Constructicons looked at each other uncertainly, but they complied.

"I've noticed some… tensions." Prowl began. "Between all of you."

Hook opened his mouth to argue, but Prowl held up a servo.

"I'm not blaming anyone." Prowl continued. "I'm simply observing. You all love each other. That's clear. But you don't always know how to express it."

"I express it fine." Bonecrusher muttered.

"Do you?" Prowl's gaze was sharp.

Bonecrusher opened his mouth—then closed it.

He turned to Mixmaster.

"And you." Prowl said. "Your chaos is… well, chaotic. But it serves a purpose. I guess." He almost whispered the last part.

Mixmaster's grin flickered. "I want everyone to be happy happy happy."

"Mm." Prowl nodded slightly.

"What I want to say is that none of you are wrong." Prowl continued "And has his own way."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

-

It was Scavenger who made the first move.

He approached Hook in the medbay, his shovel dragging nervously behind him.

"Hey, Hook? Can we talk?"

Hook looked up from his work, his expression cautious. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry." Scavenger's voice was small. "For overwhelming you. I didn't—I didn't mean to."

Hook was quiet for a long moment.

"I know you didn't. I guess I was just a bit stressed"

"But I did." Scavenger's visor was bright with unshed tears. "And I'm sorry."

Hook sighed, setting down his instruments.

"Scavenger. Come here."

Scavenger shuffled closer, his frame tense.

"I'm not angry." Hook said, and his voice was gentler than it had been in orns. "I was frustrated. There's a difference."

Scavenger's optic flared. "Really?"

"Really." Hook reached out, placing a servo on his shoulder. "I love you. Even when you're overwhelming."

Scavenger's expression crumpled. He surged forward, pulling Hook into a tight embrace.

"I love love love you too." he whispered. "So much much much. I love all of you so much very much."

Hook stiffened for a moment—then relaxed, returning the embrace.

-

The reconciliation spread from there.

Bonecrusher found Scavenger in the rec room, curled up with a datapad. He sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders were touching.

"Hey." Bonecrusher said. "You okay, mech?"

Scavenger nodded, his shovel giving a small wag. "Yeah. I think I am."

"Good." Bonecrusher reached out, brushing his knuckles along Scavenger's jaw.

"Crusher!" Scavenger leaned into the touch. "you are so beautiful so so so so perfect!"

Mixmaster found them like that, curled up together, and he couldn't resist joining. He sprawled across both of them, his field radiating contentment.

"Group hug!" Mixmaster declared. "Everyone in!"

"You're going to crush us." Bonecrusher grumbled, but he was smiling.

"Worth it!" Mixmaster pressed a kiss to Bonecrusher's helm. "Worth it for my favorite mechs!"

Scrapper found them next, followed by Long Haul. Hook and Prowl joined them, and for a moment, they were all together. Six Constructicons and one Autobot, tangled together in a pile of warmth.

And for a moment, everything was perfect.

-

The first time Prowl visited after that, it was late. He found Scavenger alone in the rec room, sketching something on a datapad. The Constructicon's massive frame was hunched over the table, his shovel giving an occasional, nervous twitch.

"Scavenger."

Scavenger's helm shot up so fast his neck cables audibly strained. His visor was bright, almost feverishly so, and his entire frame seemed to vibrate with barely contained energy. "Prowl! Hi!"

"Hello" Prowl sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders were touching. "What are you working on?"

"Just some ideas." Scavenger's shovel gave an eager wag, thumping against the couch cushion. "For the hab. I was thinking we could add some decorative touches. Maybe some of those mesh hangings you like, and I could reinforce the berth—make it bigger, sturdier, you know, for when—" He cut himself off, his plating flushing a deep, embarrassed blue.

Prowl looked at the sketches. They were intricate, detailed. A testament to Scavenger's talent and the sheer amount of thought he'd put into this.

"These are nice," Prowl said, his voice soft. "You're very talented."

Scavenger's plating flushed hotter. "Thank you." He fidgeted, his massive servos twisting together in his lap. "I just… I wanted to make it perfect. For us. For you. I know I'm not—I know I'm a lot, and I'm loud, and I'm clumsy, but I want you to feel comfortable here. I want you to want to be here. With us."

Prowl smiled slightly, a rare, genuine expression that made Scavenger's spark flutter. "You know, I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"About all of you. About this." Prowl gestured vaguely between them. "I never expected to find this. After the war… I didn't expect to find… this."

Scavenger's expression softened into something achingly tender. "None of us did."

"No." Prowl agreed. He reached out, his slender servo covering one of Scavenger's massive ones. "I'm glad we did."

Scavenger's optics flickered, glistening with recharge fluid. "I'm glad too." he whispered.

Then, hesitantly—and it was so like him to be hesitant—he leaned in. Prowl met him halfway, their lips meeting in a soft, gentle kiss. It was chaste, almost innocent, but Prowl could feel the desperate tension thrumming through Scavenger's frame.

Prowl's servo came up to cup Scavenger's jaw, tilting his helm for a better angle. Scavenger made a small, pleased sound, his shovel wagging against the couch, and he pressed closer, his massive hands coming to rest on Prowl's waist with a reverence that bordered on worship.

"Prowl." Scavenger started overheating when they parted. "I—"

"Shh." Prowl pressed another kiss to his lips, softer this time. "Just feel."

Scavenger melted into him, his frame relaxing as Prowl's servos traced along his sides. But the relaxation was short-lived. The kiss deepened, and Scavenger's panels retracted with a sharp involuntary hiss, his spike pressurizing so fast it was almost painful, straining against Prowl's thigh.

"Someone's eager." Prowl murmured, and there was warmth in his voice.

"Sorry." Scavenger gasped, his voice crack cracking. "I just—you—I've been thinking about this all cycle. Every time I close my optics, I see you. I wanted you so bad, Prowl. I need you. Please. Please, I need—"

"Mhm" Prowl shifted, but before he could position himself, Scavenger's grip on his waist tightened.

"Wait." Scavenger said, his voice suddenly desperate, almost pleading. "Wait, Prowl. Can I—can I please—" He swallowed hard, his optics wide and shining with frantic need. "Please let me be inside you. Please. I know usually you—you're the one who—but I need it so bad. I need to feel you around me. I need to be the one to make you feel good good good. Please, Prowl. Please let me have you. I'll be so careful, I swear. I'll be so gentle. Just please—"

Prowl's optics widened slightly at the sheer desperation in Scavenger's voice. This wasn't just eagerness; this was a deep deep, aching need that bordered on obsession. Scavenger's entire frame was trembling, his spike throbbing against Prowl's thigh, and there was something almost pitiful in his expression.

"Scavenger—"

"Please." Scavenger begged again, and there were actual coolant gathering at the corners of his optics behind his visor. "Please, Prowl. I need this. I need you. I've been so good, I've been waiting, I've been patient, but I can't—I can't wait anymore. Please let me have you. Let me be inside you. Let me feel you. Please, please, please—"

Prowl's spark clenched at the raw, unfiltered need in Scavenger's voice. He reached up, cupping Scavenger's face in his servos. "Okay." he said softly. "Okay. You can have me."

Scavenger made a sound that was almost a sob, his frame shuddering with relief. "Thank you. Thank you. I love you, I love love love you so much—"

"I know." Prowl shifted, positioning himself over Scavenger's lap. "I want you too."

Scavenger's servos came up to guide Prowl, his touch trembling but achingly gentle. Prowl's own panels retracted, his valve slick and ready, and he sank down onto Scavenger's spike slowly, deliberately.

The moment Scavenger was fully sheathed, he threw his helm back with a wrecked moan. "Prowl—oh, Primus, Prowl—"

"Shh." Prowl's hips began to move, a slow, rolling rhythm that had Scavenger gasping. "I've got you."

But Scavenger was already lost. His vents were stuttering, his charge building at an alarming rate. He hadn't even moved yet, and he could already feel the edge approaching, relentless and overwhelming.

"I'm sorry." he gasped, his servos gripping Prowl's hips with bruising force. "I'm sorry, I can't—I'm already—Prowl, I'm close, I'm so close, I can't stop it—"

"Then don't." Prowl murmured, pressing a kiss to his neck cabling. "hmm…let it go."

Scavenger's optics flickered wildly, his frame seizing as the overload crashed through him with devastating force. He cried out, a broken, desperate sound, his spike pulsing deep inside Prowl as he spilled his transfluid. The intensity of it was almost too much; his vision whited out, his processor static, and he clung to Prowl like a lifeline.

When he came back to himself, he was gasping, his frame trembling with aftershocks. Prowl was still above him, watching him with a soft, patient expression.

"Told you." Prowl murmured, his voice warm. "I've got you."

Scavenger's face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry." he whispered, his voice raw. "I told you I was too eager. I didn't even last—"

"Don't apologize." Prowl leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Scavengers audial. "We have all night. And I'm not done with you yet."

Scavenger's optics widened. "But I—you—"

"Shh." Prowl shifted, pulling off of Scavenger's still-sensitive spike with a soft, wet sound. "My turn."

He guided Scavenger to lie back on the floor, and before the Constructicon could protest, Prowl was positioning himself over Scavenger's face, his valve slick and glistening.

"Now." Prowl said, his voice dropping to a low, commanding purr. "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?"

Scavenger's spark leaped. "Yes." he breathed. "Yes, Prowl. Anything. Anything you want."

Prowl smiled, slow and sharp. "Good boy."

He sank down onto Scavenger's waiting mouth, and Scavenger's processor short-circuited all over again.

-

Later, after Scavenger had thoroughly worshiped Prowl with his intake and glossa, after Prowl had overloaded twice more against Scavenger's face, they lay tangled together on the floor, too spent to move.

Scavenger laughed, soft and bright, pressing kisses to Prowl's helm. "I love love love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I love love you so much. You make me feel so much."

Prowl tilted his helm up, meeting Scavenger's optics. "mhmm…" he murmured, pressing a kiss to his helm. "I love you too. And I wouldn't have you any other way."

Scavenger's spark swelled, and he held Prowl close, burying his face in the smaller mech's neck cables. "Thank you." he whispered. "Thank you for letting me have this. For letting me have you."

Prowl smiled, content. "Always."

-

Mixmaster found them like that (again), and his grin was blinding.

"Lovebirds!" Mixmaster chirped, bouncing over. "Can I join?"

"Always." Scavenger said, his voice warm.

Mixmaster settled in beside them, pressing close. His field was singing with contentment.

"Honestly?" Mixmaster said. "I didn't think this would work. Any of this."

"What do you mean?" Prowl asked.

"Seven of us," Mixmaster said. "It seemed impossible."

He paused, his grin softening.

"But it works. We work. Somehow."

Scavenger's visor were bright. "We do work. We really do."

-

Later that cycle, Hook found them in the hab, all six of them tangled together.

"It's getting crowded in here." Hook muttered.

"Then get in." Bonecrusher said. "There's always room for one more."

Hook hesitated—then complied, settling into the pile.

"This is absurd,we always end up like this." Hook said.

"Probably." Mixmaster grinned. "But it's our absurd."

Scavenger made a small, happy sound. "I love love love you all. I love you all so much much very much."

"Easy, Scav." Bonecrusher's voice was fond. "We love you too."

"But I do!" Scavenger's voice was earnest. "I love all of you. Every single one. You're my everything. My whole world."

Hook shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the intensity. Bonecrusher squeezed his servo.

"We know." Bonecrusher said. "We know."

"I just—" Scavenger's voice broke. "I need you to know. I need you to understand. You're all so important to me. I can't—I couldn't—"

"Scav." Scrapper's voice was gentle. "We know. We feel it. Every day."

Scavenger's visor welled with tears. "You do?"

"Of course we do." Mixmaster leaned in, licking his cheekplate. "You're the emotional center. Without you, we'd be lost."

"Really?" Scavenger's voice was small.

"Really." Long haul said finally.

Scavenger's expression crumpled. He buried his face in Scrapper's shoulder, his frame shaking with suppressed sobs.

"I just love you all so much much." he repeated. "I love love love you and I can't stop. I don't want to stop."

"Never stop." Long Haul said gruffly, reaching out to pat his helm. "Never stop."

-

The morning after, Bonecrusher woke to find Scavenger curled up against his chest, his frame relaxed and his fields soft with recharge. The others were scattered around them, a tangle of frames and limbs. In the floor.

For a moment, Bonecrusher just watched him. Watched the way his vents cycled slow and even. Watched the way his shovel twitched in his sleep, as if he were chasing something in a dream.

He was beautiful. They were all beautiful.

Bonecrusher reached out, stroking Scavenger's plating. The contact was gentle, barely there, but Scavenger stirred anyway.

"Crusher?" Scavenger's voice was sleepy. "What time is it?"

"Early. Go back to recharge."

"But I—" Scavenger's visor flickered. "I wanted to tell you something."

"Tell me later."

"No." Scavenger struggled upright, his expression earnest. "I need to tell you now."

Bonecrusher sighed, but his field was warm. "Okay. Tell me."

Scavenger's optics were bright. "I love love love you. I know I say it all the time, but I mean it. I love you so much."

Bonecrusher smiled, soft and genuine. "I know. I love you too, Scav."

-

Mixmaster was awake now, watching them with bright optics.

"Morning, lovebirds!" Mixmaster chirped.

"Morning, Mix" Bonecrusher said.

"I have so many ideas. So many plans for this cycle!"

"Please tell me they don't involve poison." Bonecrusher groaned.

"No promises!" Mixmaster's grin was sharp. "But I'll try to keep it safe. Mostly."

Hook groaned from somewhere in the pile. "I'm going back to recharge."

"No you're not!" Mixmaster pounced on him, his field radiant with mischief. "We're having a group morning!"

"Mix—"

"A group morning!" Mixmaster's voice was insistent. "All of us! Together! It'll be great!"

Hook, that was awake for a long time now and…earlier than Boner or Scav sighed, but he was smiling. "Fine. But if you try anything—"

"Anything?" Mixmaster's grin widened. "I promise nothing!"

-

Scavenger watched them, his spark warm. This was what he'd always wanted. Not just the love—though that was part of it—but the chaos. The intensity. The way they all orbited each other, drawn together by something greater than themselves.

They were his family. His partners. His everything.

"Hey, Scav." Long Haul said. "You okay?"

Scavenger nodded, his visor shining. "Yeah. I'm great."

"Good." Long Haul pulled him close.

-

Mixmaster was going to his lab when he spotted Scavenger, he instantly approaches with a grin in faceplate.

"Heya there, Scav."

Scavenger looked up, his optics bright. "Hey, Mix! Look what I found!"

He thrust a datapad forward. It was filled with sketches—beautiful sketches, all of them.

"These are… us." Mixmaster realized. "These are all of us!"

Scavenger's plating flushed. "I've been working on them. For orns. I wanted to capture—I wanted to show you all—"

"I love love adore them!" Mixmaster said, and he meant it. "I look strong!"

Scavenger's smile was blinding. "Really?"

"Really." Mix sat down beside him, looking at the sketches. "You're adorable cute!"

next part: 1/?

Things I Want to Address:

Scavenger's Characterization: Look, I know Scavenger is often written as the shy, sweet one of the Constructicons. And he IS that. But I also think there's a desperation in him that doesn't get explored enough. This is a mech who loves SO loudly, SO completely, that it sometimes overwhelms everyone around him including himself. He can't help it. He doesn't know how to love halfway. And I wanted to show that intensity, both the beautiful parts and the parts that make the others go "...okay, buddy, maybe take a breath."

Also, he's a CONSTRUCTICON. They're all intense. Scavenger just wears his intensity diff cause he ates, alr

also...We all know Bonecrusher is the grumpy one. But I firmly believe that beneath all that aggression is a mech who loves his gestalt so fiercely it terrifies him. He doesn't know how to handle Scavenger's devotion because he doesn't think he deserves it. So he acts gruff and dismissive, but he ALWAYS shows up. He ALWAYS comforts. He ALWAYS lets Scavenger cling to him.

That's love, baby.

I'm also, very sorry to not put much of Long Haul- I totally forgot about him mid fic, like when I remembered I started to give him lines and all LOLOLOL if I do write a second part, he would totally have more scene time!

Just drew my fav fav favorite constructicon! I love him sm.

Hello there! So I wanted to show this new drawing I made. (It’s a transformer oc)

I drew inspiration from an absurd number of characters while designing him. He’s essentially an amalgamation of everything I adore like: Prowl, Metroplex, Getaway, Misfire, Jazz, Sentinel Prime, Soundwave, and even the Constructicons to some extent.

In the little story I’ve been putting together, he’s the commander of his own squadron. Technically, he’s a Decepticon, though he has a rather persistent tendency to go rogue alongside his team, operating by his own principles rather than adhering to Megatron’s agenda. (He can’t stand autobots, but also doesn’t mind them too much)

He’s meant to be a Seeker, but with a rather unconventional twist. Much like Soundwave, he possesses an internal chest compartment that houses a single Cassetticon, his only one, in fact. He was never built to command an entire legion of minions. Looking after even one companion is already a burden he scarcely knows how to bear, so the idea of maintaining an entire cassette army simply doesn’t suit him.