Tap, tap, tap. Smokescreen tapped the end of a pen against the large stack of reports he'd piled on his brand new desk. Prowl's office was now a shared office, at least until Smokescreen's time was up. And he really did feel like he was doing time. Who knew that Prowl's job could be so boring. So far Smokescreen had only been shown the basics, just minor filing, where everything needed to go. Things like that.
He'd spent the day before moving some things into Prowl's office. After the initial shock of being given a 'job' Smokescreen had to search through the old storage facility to find himself a proper working station. Prime approved of the punishment or treatment or whatever they called it. And now here he was, in Prowl's office, their desks corner to corner. "I think this should probably go on your side," Smokescreen said and pushed a few files over to Prowl. "So, uh, is this what you do all day?"
The tactician nodded, not once looking up as he closed his 4th data pad that day and took the files Smokescreen handed off. "I also meet with Optimus Prime, Jazz, Red Alert, and Ratchet for battle strategies and discuss news on the Ark." This was a slow day for the SIC, but it seemed the gambler was getting the hang of things. His office was a moderate size and the extra desk wasn't any problem. He still hadn't refueled yet and last night the saboteur had almost dragged him to the REC room to grab some energon - thankfully the twins had filled a barrel of oil and leaned it up against Ratchet's door and ran away after a knock...Needless to say the medical bot was enraged to have oil spill all over his office - but this gave Prowl the advantage of letting him get away and back to work (although it was extra paperwork to fill out and a snickering Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to deal with).
'Yeah, I bet you meet up with Jazz and discuss 'news.' Smokescreen stifled a giggle. "Doesn't seem too difficult," he said and flipped open a folder. 'Blah, blah, blah.'Smokescreen would rather be smoking right now. He couldn't crack his addiction and he started tapping his foot rapidly when the urge hit him. "How long are you usually in your office? Don't you…go on breaks?"
Smokescreen hoped that was subtle enough. He really needed a cy-gar! Door wings trembled and fidgeted almost wildly. 'Last thing I need is Prowl seeing me like this..'
Prowl blinked a few times at the gambler, noticing how agitated he was. He gave him a blank stare then shooed him off. "You can go on break, come back in thirty minutes or so." He went back to sorting and filing, pen flying a mile a minute. He had to get all these done today, because tomorrow he had the feeling things were just going to be more hectic. He didn't need distractions, and right now, Smokescreen's constant fidgeting was one of them. "Don't take too long, I need you to take some of these to the monitor room for Red Alert to read."
"Alright. See you soon." Smokescreen practically bounded out of the office and back to his room. He shoved his way through the mechs in the halls and once he was in his room he hastily dove after his cy-gars, lit one up, and inhaled. Aaah, so much better already. Once he was finished he fanned himself to try and get the smell off. Smokescreen hurried back to Prowl's office. Primus only knows what would happen if he was late.
The gambler felt ten times better now! "Heya, sugar. Did ya miss me?" Smokescreen said and walked back into the office with a smile as bright as his chevron. Oh…frag. Definitely the wrong move…and the wrong thing to say. Jazz stood next to Prowl, clearly perplexed and he glanced at Smokescreen, eyeing him suspiciously.
Jazz clicked his glossa against the roof of his mouth and turned his attention back to Prowl. "You wanna explain to me what's going on here?"
He kept his face blank, staring at Smokescreen - giving him a 'really?' look. He rubbed his optics and sighed. "You know how Smokescreen is." He stood up and placed some reports in a filing cabinet, not once glancing at the two mechs. "Always has to get on my bad side..."
Even though the SIC was calm on the outside - his processor was racing a mile a minute. Primus, why did Jazz have to visit him this second? Why did Smokescreen have to be...well HIM!
He quickly brushed off these thoughts (maybe a change in topic will be best) and looked to his lover, smiling slightly. "Is there something you wanted?"
Smokescreen watched as Jazz pulled Prowl into the corner. The saboteur spoke quietly so he couldn't be overheard.
"I just wanted to see ya, Prowl. I miss you.." Jazz left out the part that lately Prowl had been acting strange and distant. They'd not really spent much time with each other for the past week. Jazz understood they were both busy and had their duties but…something was definitely wrong. Just a week ago Prowl was so distraught almost to the point that Jazz wanted to take him to see Ratchet. They'd talked but Jazz wasn't any closer to finding out what was bothering his lover than he was when he first questioned Prowl. "But what's he doing in here?" Jazz motioned to Smokescreen who smiled and waved. Jazz liked the other Datsun. They got along well, had some good times together. But this whole situation just reeked…and the smell wasn't the freshly smoked cy-gar coming from Smokey. "Prowl…why's there two desks in your office?"
The sadness in Jazz's voice made Prowl want to hit himself (over and over and over). The saboteur was so worried about him and wanted to be with him, but the tactician was just avoiding him. He felt so guilty and horrible, he wanted to kiss the Porsche's worries away. But not now, not in front of Smokescreen (or anyone, Prowl liked things to stay private).
Even though the SIC prided in his self control, he couldn't stop his hand from reaching up and affectionately rubbing his lover's cheek. "I'm sorry, Jazz. I know we haven't been with each other lately...things...just keep coming up."
He smiled lovingly at Jazz, hoping to quell his fears and settle his spark. He never wanted to think about that night again, and he never wanted Jazz to know - it was history and it should stay that way. The tactician gestured towards the other Datsun in the room (who was watching them intently). "Smokescreen is here to fulfill an...agreement we had. He's going to help me with my job for a month."
Prowl's touch immediately comforted Jazz. He leaned into his lover's warm hand, lacing his fingers around it and bringing it down to his lips to kiss. He completely ignored Smokescreen's presence. "Come over after work. I wanna spend time with ya, Prowler.." Jazz respected his lover's privacy. No matter how badly he wanted to pull Prowl into a deep kiss right now he restrained himself. The tactician wasn't comfortable with their relationship being public yet. Jazz didn't know why but he would wait. He would wait a lifetime for Prowl. But a look of sadness plagued the saboteur's face. "Prowler.." he whispered. "I respect all your decisions. You know I do. But.." Jazz glanced behind him to see Smokescreen…who fluttered his door wings. "I thought you were gonna let me help you with work. I told you I would.. You know I'd do anything for you."
Oh this was so awkward. Smokescreen rocked on his feet, hands clasped behind his back. Obviously Jazz didn't know about his and Prowl's…affair. Otherwise Smokescreen was sure he'd already be nursing another cracked lip.
Prowl looked away in shame, unable to stand the look on his lover's face. "I'm sorry Jazz. He's just here to serve a punishment."
He really did want to tell Jazz about that night, but he was so frightened everything they've been through would suddenly crumble. He wanted to stay with Jazz, to always know that the saboteur's strong arms would hold him and keep him warm. He never wanted to see him sad and to keep him smiling. Yes, he knew he was being selfish holding this information from his lover, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. What worried him was that if he didn't tell the Porsche before/if they decided to bond, then he'd find out through their new link. Prowl looked back at Jazz, a gentle look adorning his face. "I'll come by right after I'm done here...I promise."
He would tell him...Just not now...Not while him and Smokescreen continued to be awkward with each other. He had to make sure the other Datsun could forgive him.
What had Smokescreen done this time? Jazz wasn't surprised that he'd managed to get himself into trouble again. "Alright, Prowler. I can't wait to see ya again. I miss you so much…" Now would be the time Jazz would pull his lover into a passionate kiss..but a pair of optics were watching his every move. Instead, Jazz cupped the tactician's face and glided his thumb over Prowl's smooth lips. He smiled as he looked into Prowl's beautiful blue optics. "I'll let ya get back to work. I love you.." Jazz added in a whisper. He gave one last longing glance back to his lover before he headed out.
Smokescreen, however, wasn't lucky enough to get one of those sweet, loving looks. He swore that as Jazz passed him the saboteur bore a hole right through his spark with one of the darkest looks Smokescreen had ever seen. 'Jealous much?'
Once he was alone with Prowl again, Smokescreen felt safe enough to cross to his desk. He flopped down in his chair and propped his feet up on the tabletop. "I think it's safe to assume he doesn't know. Right, Prowl?"
Prowl didn't hear what the gambler had said, too busy pressing the tips of his digits to his lips where Jazz had touched them; he had a dazed look on his face - like a school girl and her first crush. Oh, how he had missed those lips over the past week. His door wings fluttered when he thought about visiting his lover tonight, making him forget all about his current predicament (and the other mech in the room).
Prowl stood rooted in his spot, a look of longing passing over his features, voice barely above a whisper. "...Jazz."
Smokescreen got up and snapped his fingers in front of Prowl's face. "Uh, hello! Earth to Prowl! Yoohoo!" Smokescreen hadn't seen one of those looks in a long time. It reminded him of his romance novels and he wanted to scoff. Jazz, Jazz, Jazz. Everything was about Jazz. Prowl even called him Jazz when they were screwing! "Wake up, Prowl. Thought you were gonna teach me the ropes here."
Smokescreen stood back and crossed his arms, one optic ridge raised. "Before…I was just askin' if Jazz knew? I'm assuming he doesn't since I'm still in one piece."
Snapping out of his happy thoughts, Prowl looked at Smokescreen confused. "What...?" He blinked then suddenly regained his composure, a light blush appearing on his face once he realized he was mooning over the saboteur in front of another mech. "S-sorry..." Slaggit, just being in the same room with his lover made him forget all the bad things in his life. The tactician looked at the gambler, a little agitated. Yes...all the bad things.
Finally processing what the colorful Datsun had asked, the SIC walked back towards his desk to continue his work - hoping to finish within the next hour. "No...He doesn't know..."
Yet.
"I think it would be better if things stayed that way." As much as Smokescreen would love to go around bragging that he'd slept with Prowl, that just didn't seem to be in his best interest right now. Jazz was one mech he did not want to tussle with. Smokescreen sat back down in his chair and kicked up his feet. This wasn't so bad. It was…relaxing. Boring, but relaxing. Smokescreen couldn't wait to read all the procedure files and actually get into the database. He just had to play up the part of being a good mech for a while. "What…are we going to do Prowl? We've never talked about it. Other than saying we'll both keep quiet."
"..." Prowl just kept stacking up reports, a grim line on his face. After a few minutes of silence, he stopped what he was doing and suddenly pulled his chair in front of Smokescreen's, optics serious and servos clasped together tightly. Prowl stared into the other's eyes, as if pleading the gambler to understand. "...I...appreciate your silence in the matter..." He looked away, guilt written on his face. "And...I'm sorry...For hitting you...and for making you keep this a secret." He kept his gaze on the wall, afraid that the Datsun wouldn't accept his apology - why should he? Prowl had made so many mistakes, Smokescreen had the choice to tell Jazz and Prowl wouldn't stop him.
"Eh, no worries. I've had worse done to me." Smokescreen shrugged. He was used to keeping secrets. His life pretty much was one big secret. "You've got a mean right hook though.." Smokescreen rubbed his lip out of habit, caressing over the place where the tactician punched him. Yes, he was still bitter. But there was no use dwelling on it. He had better things to do..like concentrate on being Prowl's little helper bot. "And you're not making me to do anything. Nobody forces me. I do things of my own will. You and I just happen to agree that telling Jazz would be a bad idea."
"I gotta admit though. I never thought you'd wanna be around me again after that. 'Specially for a whole month. Guess you can't resist me."
Prowl would've smacked him upside the head and tell him to get out after such a comment, but he was just too relieved to hear that Smokescreen forgave him. He couldn't believe it! Maybe things were going to work out after all - of course, once he told Jazz, he'd make sure the gambler knew and assure him that everything was going to be alright. (Jazz wouldn't attack another mech just because he slept with them...would he?) No...Jazz wouldn't, he was sure. (Then again, Prowl's never seen the saboteur angry before.)
The police Datsun's door wings fluttered again, finally able to relax again around the gambler. Prowl gave Smokescreen a dazzling smile (one he didn't use often with other bots). "Thank you, Smokescreen."
"It's nothin.' Don't thank me." There was the tactician he met on that night, the one he got to know. Prowl's smile really was something else. Maybe it was because it was so rare? Maybe it was because Smokescreen knew only he and Jazz received it. "Smiling suits you, Prowl. You should do it more often."
Smokescreen rested his head on the desk, returning Prowl's smile and admiring him. His door wings fluttered and he supposed working with the tactician wouldn't be so bad. As long as things stayed like this at least. But Smokescreen still wasn't gonna change so Prowl better get that thought out of his processor. Ugh, this office was so bland. Smokescreen sat up, rolled his shoulders until they popped just like he always did, and sifted through his subspace pocket. Ah, there it was.
"Well, if I'm stayin' for a month then we gotta liven things up a bit." Smokescreen said as he pulled out a radio. He set it in the corner of his desk and turned it on. "Rock n roll's the way to go, baby."
Once the radio was switched on, loud music blared through the speakers - rattling everything in the office, it actually knocked a few books off his shelf. Prowl quickly covered his audios, face turning into a scowl. "SMOKESCREEN! TURN THATÂ OFF!"
GRRRRR!
Prowl was going to get a processor ache from that radio! If the gambler thought he could work under these conditions, he had another thing coming! The tactician tried to reach for the radio, but Smokescreen playfully swatted him away, clearly amused. "Give me that!" He kept trying to reach the damn thing, even practically lying on the other's desk - and he still couldn't reach!
"Nu uh!" Smokescreen playfully smacked Prowl away again so he couldn't get to the radio. Anyone outside close enough to hear would definitely do a double take. Music coming from Prowl's office? Rock and roll? "It's mine, Prowl!" Smokescreen grabbed the radio and held it high, pinning the tactician to the desk with his forearm. "You're kinda cute when you're mad." The Datsun turned the music down just a little and put his radio on one of the high shelves. "It stays right where it's at. No touching."
Chuckling, Smokescreen eased back and freed the tactician, but not before sneaking a grab to his door wing. Smokescreen's warm fingers lightly ghosted down the back panel. Oh, how Prowl huffed like a dragon!
W-What just happened? Prowl scooted to where he was sitting on top of Smokescreen's desk, arms crossed over his chest and grasping his shoulders, a shocked expression on his face. He blushed furiously, optics still wide. "You-you! D-Don't do that!" He held his body tighter and squeezed his legs together, morified that he was groped. Prowl growled when he watched the gambler place the radio on a high shelf that he couldn't reach. (Why in the pit did he have a shelf that high?) He kept holding his body, nervous that the other Datsun would feel him up again. "And turn that off! It's hard to work with that racket on!"
Kicking the chair away so Prowl wouldn't try to get at the radio, Smokescreen stood with one hand on his hip. Toying with Prowl was definitely something he had to put on his agenda more often. He couldn't get in trouble for it so why not? "Naw, you'll get used to it. A little music never hurt anyone." It was surprisingly strange to see the tactician holding himself like a girl whose dress had just fallen off. Smokescreen wasn't aware that his touch could evoke such reactions. It was just a little stroke to the wing. He liked his wings to be rubbed. Then again Prowl was a little touch me not. Smokescreen leaned in a little closer, caught up in the moment just like before. He cupped Prowl's face and glided his thumb over his cheek. "Show me that smile again, Prowl.."
He froze. Prowl just completely froze. What was Smokescreen doing? Didn't he ever learn from mistakes? But then again, the tactician wasn't pulling away. The sensation of the gambler's thumb brushing his face sent chills down his backstrut and made his breath hitch.
Primus, what was he now! A horny teenager? With his face completely red, Prowl (gently) pushed the other Datsun's hand away. "S-stop..." He quickly got off the desk and looked away, nervous. "I-I have to go...I need to see Jazz..." Before giving Smokescreen a chance to speak, he left the office without a word and ran towards the saboteur's room, more confused than he's ever been in his life.
Smokescreen had no choice other than to watch Prowl go. But oh, he watched with a sly smirk on his face and a glint of mischief clouding his optics. Wait…what had gotten into him? Prowl was off limits! And it wasn't like Smokescreen wanted him anyway. The gambler turned back to the desks and eyed the data files. 'I hope he doesn't expect me to do all these by myself.'
