Disclaimer: I'm only saying this once. Transformers belongs to Hasbro! Shortstop, however, is mine. Not to be confused with another Shortstop TF OC I've spotted here, it's pure coincidence they have the same name.
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Music blared from the common room/lounge/recreation hall, a section cleared of tables and chairs to make room for Jazz's Earth culture protege. None of the other new arrivals were so eager to try out almost anything under the sun, nor did any of them excel in one thing right away.
"Aight, turn! Now slide, slide, touch, one two three." Nor did any of his students possess the grace to waltz or Texas Two-Step.
"Am I doing okay?" Shortstop asked the saboteur, fluidly following the shorter mech's lead. Already quite a few Bots stopped to watch the rather funny sight of tall, heavy Shortstop dancing gracefully with shorter, lighter Jazz. Unabashed, Jazz grinned proudly.
"You're doin' great, Shorty." The young bus almost snorted at the ironic nickname. As far as experience and rank went it fit perfectly; Shortstop was dubbed The Rookie immediately after he arrived on Earth. However, it obviously didn't suit his physical appearance. Shortstop stood almost as tall as Optimus Prime himself, with a similar build.
"Now why don't you ever do that for me?" Arx asked Hazmat teasingly, giggling when her bondmate blushed and looked aside without a word. Behind them Springer and Sideswipe snickered, then politely shoved around for a better view. Shortstop instantly noticed two of his closest friends in the Ark and blushed a bright red across his faceplate, stumbling in his steps and nearly pulling Jazz to the floor.
"Whoa, steady!" Jazz cautioned, on the verge of laughing. He turned back at the sound of Sideswipe's laugh and chided, "Quit makin' the poor mech nervous!"
"I didn't do a thing," Sideswipe replied, grinning wider when Shortstop tried to get his rhythm back by counting three beats to himself. Jazz just shook his head, took the young mech's hands, and resumed the dance on the perfect beat. Shortstop more easily fell into step with Jazz's guidance, trying his hardest to ignore the chuckles and the teasing comments thrown his way.
"Sorry," he murmured to Jazz shyly. The older black and white mech smiled understandingly.
"'S just us, man, just us an' the music."
