Some days, Red Alert found Prowl quite... annoying. The mech was obsessed with order. Everything had to be put in its place exactly right, and if it wasn't, he would do it himself. Moving things over and over, just to get them to line up perfectly with whatever pattern he had in his processor.

Sure, Red liked order himself; having things organised made it so much easier to find whatever he was looking for, after all. The only place he was truly obsessive about, however, was the Security office, but that was work, and in the line he was, every second wasted trying to find something could mean the difference between life or death.

He'd learned that lesson all too well.

In his own home, though, simple organisation worked just fine. He knew where most things were, and those he didn't only took a small time of searching for, and they were invariably non-essential items to begin with.

In the orns since Prowl had moved in with him, though, his apartment had gone from organised to catalogued. Everything had been assigned a place (some even had labels!) and woe be to Red Alert if he placed something out of alignment.

Okay, perhaps he was overreacting with that last statement. He'd known about his lover's penchant for order before they decided to live together. And while he did make an effort to accommodate Prowl in his compulsive behaviour, there were times he slipped and simply forgot. It was hardly as though he did it on purpose.

And to be completely honest, Prowl seemed to be making an effort to not glitch when something was out of place. His wings would twitch rather adorably while he tried to ignore whatever it was, but he never lasted long before a little chuff of exasperation would escape him and he'd have to 'correct' the situation. The record was a breem and a half so far, and that was only yesterday.

He wondered if they could get it up to two.

He watched Prowl's mouth curl into the slightest of grins, and he raised an optic ridge at the mech, curious as to what was going through his lover's processor.

Ah, well. He'd find out in time.

Prowl knew that his lover found him... irritating, sometimes. Everyone found him irritating, it wasn't like Red Alert was the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last. He idly wondered how long this relationship would last; no mech to date had been able to live with him for even a quarter vorn. Not that there had been many. Two, actually, before Red Alert.

It wasn't that he wasn't trying. Even though he'd organised and catalogued the entire apartment, he'd resisted the urge to label everything, or even half of the things in the apartment. In fact, there was only a handful of things that he'd succumbed to labelling. He hadn't even marked the exact positions of the furniture. He was rather proud of that.

He was also trying to not react when something was left in a place his processor insisted it did not go. That... wasn't going so well. But the more he chastised himself over letting it get to him, the more things bothered him and the shorter the time between 'infraction' and glitching out over it. It was frustrating, to say the least.

He very much liked Red Alert. Well, of course he did. If he didn't, he never would have taken the mech as a lover, and most certainly would never have considered moving in with him. They got along very well, had more interests in common than not, and Primus, the mech was good in the berth. Not that these were the only things that drew him to the security mech, but the first two, at least, were rarities in combination with Prowl. There weren't that many he got on with so well, and he didn't want to lose Red Alert.

He had managed to ignore that datapad for more than a breem just yesterday. He was rather proud of that, also.

Maybe he could manage two?

...Hmm...

He smiled. Challenge accepted.