#siab

"Bumblebee?!" he shouted as he beheld the scout rising from the floor. Looking just as haggard as he felt, Bee winced at his booming volume, covering his audials and making an expression of deep annoyance.

"That is so loud..." he whined, not even looking as Thundercracker swung his weapon mounted around for an attack. To his surprise, horror, and mild embarrassment, the Seeker found his arm utterly rid of a gun, not that Bumblebee even bothered to see him as a threat. Squinting around at the lack of windows and doors and appearing just as frustrated as the other mech had felt, the Scout looked ready to make a sarcastic quip before an electric buzz startled them both.

In the blink of an optic, a holographic screen appeared before them, glowing bright with oversaturated colors and a flamboyantly dressed Quintesson beaming into a microphone. 

"Welcome, friends from Cybertron! I bet you're wondering where you are right now!" the alien cracked with a snap of his tentacles, triggering one of the more obviously fake laugh tracks across the galaxy. Both bots exchanged a mutual expression of disbelief and wondered if it was possible to share the same fever dream, only for the background music to swell and confirm everything they were seeing was happening.

"Well, buckle in. You're the lucky bots selected for our prestigious game show - I'm your host; Emceeus!" the charismatic alien announced with a wink and a flourish of the microphone. At the lack of cheers from his captives, the nonplussed host continued, smiling with a level of charm few would have thought possible with so many rows of teeth. Bumblebee briefly started wondering if he might be able to smash his way out as Thundercracker doubled down on the same thought.

"You may notice I am a Quintesson - fear not!" Emceeus assured them, speaking more softly as he closed his eyes in time to a series of tender, mood setting images flowing across the screen. Flowers, hearts, and space puppies played in perfect time to sappy music. "We here are not like our violent brethren - we are a peaceful rogue colony..."

To the gathered bots horror, the screen shifted to a lovely but extremely explicit clip of two bots making passionate love, their campy moans compelling the captive's optics to find the most interesting possible things on the floor.

"And we love love!" the Quintesson announced sweetly over the audio of the mechs going at it, tentacles waving showily before a few space pot leaves made a cameo on the screen. A small addendum acknowledged them as the pre-recorded audience awwed over his words to preserve the mood. " ...And space weed. "

"As for the issue of why you're here, it seemed you were having a battle of sorts in our sector of space - so nasty, it destroyed the comet where we were hosting auditions!" the Quintesson continued over footage of said conflict, which allowed the bots to finally recall what they'd been doing before their unexpected casting. The recorded audience gasped in fake awe as the respective sides maintained fire on one another, filling the void of space with brilliant flashes of cannon fire that beautifully illuminated the aforementioned asteroid... before careless fire from both sides smashed it to pieces. Bumblebee and Thundercracker exchanged a look of guilt and concern before the host clapped his tentacles together with delight.

"What a show of passion! We just had to cast you!" he declared to a repeat of the applause effect from before, absolutely beaming into the camera to the brief relief of the captives. Smashing someone's comet usually got you way worse punishment than a forced game show recruitment.

Elsewhere, perhaps not too far away in a completely identical cell, Starscream and Soundwave glared at a hologram of the same broadcast. 

"...what show?!" Starscream continued to complain, something he'd been doing since the moment he'd woken up. Hands on his hips, the Seeker had already demanded to speak to the alien's manager to no avail, compelling Soundwave to stand in pained silence as their host finally appeared to acknowledge them. 

"You're on; "Bang for Your Buck!" - a show where contestants can show us their love to win a fantastic prize! Our audience will give you a prompt, and you will be given two cycles to complete it! Tap out, and you'll be out of the running!" he explained cheerily, bringing up a diagram to better explain. Three sequential images displayed a pair of contestants getting a prompt to kiss, carrying out the act, then celebrating their victory. The true ramifications of what was being proposed started to dawn on the captive participants, and a wide variety of mostly negative looks were exchanged amongst an intense flurry of even more negative emotions. "You'll see your first prompts appear in s-"

"Excuse me." Bumblebee interrupted as he held up a servo, voice broadcasting out to all the other contestants for the sake of the plot. With strength disproportionate to his size, he addressed their captors with a thoroughly disapproving glare. "What's the prize?"

"That little thing you were all fighting over - the Omega Key!" Emceeus answered just as eagerly, gesturing to a stock photo of the aforementioned artifact. Seemingly oblivious to how displeased his contestants were to be there, the host was equally nonplussed when they all stood up in a panic at his mention of the key, collective attentions now fully engaged.

"What about-" a single bot spoke up before being interrupted by a final sweetening of the deal.

"And five million Shanix!"

"Dope." came the mostly satisfied reply. 

"You'll see your first prompts on your screen!" the host announced as the fake audience cheered, disappearing from view to leave a loading screen. Every bot was left to await their fate for what felt like a purposefully cruel length of time, the annoying suspenseful music making every second drag on like five. In their tiny but not necessarily claustrophobic room, Bumblebee and Thundercracker got their first prompt at the same time as the others, the flowy text scrolling almost mockingly onto the screen.

Hold Hands!

Somehow, the chaste prompt was more embarrassing than the most erotic of acts could have ever been. Both bots flushed bright pink, turning to each other with an expression of hopeless despair mixed with embarrassment. It was abundantly clear there would be no escape; without weapons or anything resembling a weak point in the structure around them, they had few reasons not to comply. With those reasons consisting of nothing but schoolgirl levels of bashful self consciousness, they both more or less came to the same conclusion after powering through their reservations. Neither would forsake their duty for fear of cooties.

This is so ridiculous, but I guess I need to get that key... Bumblebee thought to himself, raising a hand as he faced the other mech. Thundercracker didn't look any more pleased with the situation, but he at least appeared willing to cooperate, albeit with the same level of hesitation. The Seeker gulped and flexed his digits.

Shit. I guess this is happening. This is straight out of one of my favorite fanfics... he thought in a rush, able to clearly recall multiple bookmarked fics with the exact same premise. When he'd read those, however, he had been imagining anything but Bumblebee. Not that he found the scout ugly or anything, he just typically didn't fantasize about bots with Autobot insignias... Considering what was at stake, he swiftly set about convincing himself to face the challenge, as overwhelming as it may have been.

"Well, if..." Bumblebee started, turning to face the floor as he shuffled forward and started to offer his hand. Following the lead, Thundercracker began blindly groping for the other mech, nodding along as they both continued to avert their optics while convincing themselves. 

"If it's for the Omega Key...?" he added with open uncertainty, stepping backwards and blushing that much harder as they got closer. If this succeeded there would still be a battle for the prize, but at least it would be back in Cybertronian control. For the good of their species, he needed to persevere. 

"...We all need to get it." Bumblebee continued as he squeezed his optics shut and turned away entirely, blushing so fiercely he was sure his face would be combusting at any moment. He was halfway certain he'd hit his head during the battle and would wake up at any moment, the absurdity of it all feeling more like a concussion dream than anything with any basis in reality. The warmth steadily approaching his outstretched digits challenged that theory.

"Yeah." Thundercracker covered his closed optics as their hands finally touched, arms held nearly straight to keep as much distance between the two of them as physically possible. Barely able to nod, he summoned all the courage remaining in his spark and did what needed to be done. Their hands came together with a burst of pure embarrassment that was mirrored by their fellow contestants, though most of the aforementioned bots were feeling far more murderous than bashful. 

Mere feet away, a mercifully soundproofed room was still trembling from the raw outrage within, its display screen buzzing a most infuriating prompt to the furious occupants. 

Kiss with Tongue

There were few bots who would have taken the idea well in regards to their greatest nemesis, but Megatron was uniquely incensed, his rage so overpowering it could have warped time and space had the Quintessons not used their technology to bolster it just in case.

" WHAT IS THIS BULLSHIT?! " the Decepticon leader roared, optics and veins bulging as the mech at his side expressed his equal rage with significantly more decorum.  

"This is heinous to ask of enemies!" Optimus agreed, stressing the final word to remind their captors and himself that he had NO interest in Megatron. Their feelings to one another consisted of nothing but hatred mixed with an acceptable amount of respect for the other's physical prowess... nothing else, not in the slightest. Megatron made to shatter the screen just before the cameras shifted most conveniently to the next room over, his explosive rage making it clear he had much more yelling to do before they could hope to enter the competition for real. 

" GIVE ME THE OMEGA KEY, I DEMAND- "

In the next room over, a mech who would have given any number of things to be napping at that moment was glaring at his own screen, the bags beneath his optics almost as deep as his dissatisfaction with his assigned partner. Said partner was looking mischievous and delighted, his lips curling up for a fang accented grin as he secured a hold on Ratchet's shoulder. The older mech could almost feel Drift's optics staring a hole in the most sensitive region of his neck. Worse, the buzzing screen seemed to mock him with the simplicity of its request. 

Bite

Oh, Primus... he thought with an internal sigh, utterly done even before they'd had a chance to begin. How had he ended up with the only mech that managed to be as hot as he was infuriating?

Back in the room where Starscream and Soundwave miraculously hadn't murdered one another, the two were tapping into their competitive nature to tackle their embarrassing but mostly manageable prompt. 

Wing Massage

"Ow! You're doing it wrong!" Starscream hissed as Soundwave roughly handled the Seeker's wings in what could only be called the loosest approximation of a massage. It looked as ridiculous as it felt, but both mechs soldiered on, the former grumbling as the latter doubled down.