float like a butterfly

Prowl doesn’t mean anything bad, but Bee’s door wings still tip back a little- swing and a miss at a good activity to go do with Prowl that wasn’t paperwork. He’d really thought he’d been on to something! Racing isn’t all about speed- it’s also about strategizing, and Prowl is probably the best strategist that Bumblebee knows. …unless it comes to socializing. But everyone has their weak spots, the minibot knows.

"It's not a bad idea." Prowl says it a little too fast, without the right amount of restraint or hesitation. Alright, maybe something does tug at him when Bee's doorwings droop. Guilt, regret- Prowl closes his eyes to the exact word for it, but curses it all the same. "I'm- just not very suited for it." This is probably a big elaborate ploy Prowl's falling for, isn't it? Bumblebee never struck Prowl as somebody particularly duplicitous, but- he wouldn't consider the minibot above weaponizing his guilt. (That, and- blowing off steam by getting to make spiels on traffic laws didn't sound all bad.) "Alright, alright. If you believe you can win, fine. I'll support you." Prowl shifts, looking hesitant. "Just racing. This one time."

Up go the door wings again, twitching slightly in excitement. The mini’s eyes light up, and before he can think twice about it he springs forward, wrapping an arm around whatever part of Prowl is close enough to reach. Probably an arm. Physical affection upon ye, police car.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure! I was waiting til your next break so we could go out and do something fun. There’s a big race tonight and it’s THE place to show off- I mean, uh, develop strong interpersonal relationships outside of work!”

As much as Prowl rolls his optics- optic- at the idea of willingly going to a Cybertronian race, he's listening. He listens to Bumblebee stutter, too, catching the other's smooth recovery with a raised brow. "Bee. It sounds like a headache. I'm not in the mood to 'chase down some speedsters'." There's no bite to his words, despite the curt matter-of-fact tone. The noise alone would be nightmarish. "Are you seriously suggesting we compete? I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm not the epitome of speed. Not in comparison, anyways."

Prowl doesn’t mean anything bad, but Bee’s door wings still tip back a little- swing and a miss at a good activity to go do with Prowl that wasn’t paperwork. He’d really thought he’d been on to something! Racing isn’t all about speed- it’s also about strategizing, and Prowl is probably the best strategist that Bumblebee knows. …unless it comes to socializing. But everyone has their weak spots, the minibot knows.

Bumblebee is here to bother Prowl. And by bother, I mean he’s hanging out in the mech’s office while attempting to beat several levels of cybertronian Tetris. The music is deafening. -stinglikeame

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure! I was waiting til your next break so we could go out and do something fun. There’s a big race tonight and it’s THE place to show off- I mean, uh, develop strong interpersonal relationships outside of work!”

{ @stinglikeame }

That clinches it, no sloppy make outs for Bee tonight. Easy mode isn’t how he does things. If something isn’t difficult, it isn’t worth doing.

He enjoys being held. Rodimus almost melts at the touch, optics blinking offline and face becoming relaxed in a way it usually only does when asleep. He smiles.

Hopefully Rod doesn’t fall into recharge right here. It’s hard dragging someone taller than him to a decent place for them to pass out- not because he can’t handle th weight, but because it’s hard to get a decent hold of someone half again your body size. If Rod falls over, he might pin Bee and then they’re both sleeping here. Possibly on the high grade stained floor.

Giggling? Huh. Bee thought the other was more sober than that. It’s not a game when one person is out of it.

That clinches it, no sloppy make outs for Bee tonight. Easy mode isn’t how he does things. If something isn’t difficult, it isn’t worth doing.