Okay, so everybody should know the drill by now. Chapters with explicit content aren't really posted here. Just up to when the smut gets going.
If you want to read the story, it's over on Ao3. Replace the - with .
Archiveofourown-org/works/710306/chapters/1312871

Demands of Life 1: Taking Prowl
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Red Alert paced across their quarters, optics tracking so that he did not trip but not really seeing, nervous energy driven by the restless coding plaguing him and all of the complications it was creating. It had been dormant until now, so quiet in fact that for a short time the pair had even luxuriated in almost forgetting that it existed.

Perhaps that had been their mistake. And now the overriding need to find a nest, willing or not, was driving him and his mate Inferno to distraction. They had discussed it between themselves, gone through every mech that was currently located on the Earth, and narrowed it down to those currently assigned to the Ark.

Out of those they had gone through the remainder with a clearly defined list of qualifications, weeding out those who not work and discussing the pros and cons of the few who fulfilled all the requirements.

And then they had tried to ignore it once more, hoping that going that far would be enough to calm it for a time and let them plan more.

Instead it had only seemed to aggravate the coding, and Red Alert knew that as soon as Inferno returned from his mission they were going to have to talk.

And act.

He could feel his mate drawing closer and the agitation in him. This was hurting them both. Within orns the stress would send Red Alert to the medbay and into Ratchet's domain. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but with the reproductive protocols so far along, they were both manifesting physical changes that the medic would find when he opened them up. He would probably even scan them, which was why Red Alert had managed to miss every officer meeting since the coding activated, just in case. He still watched and spoke, but from the safety of his control room. No one thought it odd. He always did that when Inferno was away.

The door opened and Red Alert pounced on his mate, shaking from the coding and needing the firm grounding that was his mate's strong arms and common sense to combat his own panic. How lucky he was to have found this mech instead of another.

Pulses, then a soothing calmness enveloped Red Alert's spark from the bond, settling him as nothing else could. It did nothing for the reproductive coding, but at least the rest of him was under control.

"I know," Inferno nuzzled him. "We have to do this now. Are you still sure of our choice?"

"He is the best one. All of them are risks. There is no way to get around that when our choices are so limited. And if what we are seeking in the end is acceptance-" Red Alert paused as he ran the odds one more time. "If what we seek is acceptance, he is our best chance."

Inferno nodded and leaned down to kiss him gently. "Then get the energon and our quarters ready. I'll be back with him soon."

The kiss was returned, gentle despite the tension building in Red Alert again as he left his mate's arms and pulled out the energon he already had stashed away. Their quarters were small and simple, arranging them for their guest's comfort wouldn't take but a few kliks, far less time than it was likely to take Inferno to track down and acquire their target's cooperation.

On the up side, their target was likely to believe the excuse they'd worked out to get him into their quarters. For once Red Alert's paranoia was going to be an advantage. Prowl would never question him sending Inferno to deliver a request to meet in private in a secure location. He'd done it before, for legitimate, faction-related reasons.

He just hoped that their mingled, aroused and breeding-ready fields did what they should and made their nest compliant. He really didn't want to think about actually forcing the nest. Just because they weren't asking permission didn't mean he liked the idea of using force. It was supposed to be pleasurable, especially for the nest, and well, he *liked* Prowl. The SIC was one of the few mecha that understood what functioning with a glitch during wartime meant.

He kept his feeling trained on his mate over the bond, feeling the initial surge of satisfaction that likely signaled that their nest had been located and acquired. With that in mind Red Alert shifted around the last of the furniture, giving the plenty of room to display for and claim their nest, and everything arranged for their nest to recover after they were through.

This was going to be nothing like their previous times. After recovering, this nest had to be made to understand what had happened to him and why. Red Alert could only hope that Prowl was as rational and pragmatic about this as he was about everything else. They were about to intimately assault the Autobot Second in Command.

A gush of air burst from Red Alert's vents when the door opened, breaking the train of thought that was threatening to turn into a full scale panic attack.

"Red Alert," Prowl said when the door closed behind Inferno. "You wished to speak with me?"

"Yes. About something very important. Something that you have actually mentioned several times as of late during the staff meetings." Red Alert said, his focus shifting as he approached Prowl slowly. Blue optics were focused on Prowl's, and every motion of Red Alert's frame was meant to captivate and intrigue Prowl. He felt more than saw Inferno moving behind Prowl, subtly pushing the Praxian forward.

Once he was trapped the real work would begin, soothing their nest into accepting what needed to be done, but they had to get him there first.

"There have been several disturbing trends of late," Prowl asked for more information. His optics remained on Red Alert as Prowl took a step forward, accepting Inferno's subtle guidance in dealing with his mate. "Which one have you learned something about?"

"Not so much as learned as had a development." Red Alert mused, excitement starting to catch over the bond and in his optics with how compliant their nest was already being. "The decline of our population and the inability to expand it has been expressed as a worry, with the toll that the war has taken. The only reason the number of deactivations has dropped off is because there are fewer of us to deactivate. At this rate there may not be enough to repopulate once the war ends, if it ever does."

The arguments, the approach, Red Alert had gone over it dozens of times in his processor, tailoring it to this mech. Normally this wouldn't be his role, but Inferno had deferred to him this time, acknowledging his mate's ability to plan in depth and consider a scenario from multiple angles when he was not functioning in a panic. Prowl and Red Alert also shared a small additional social bond because of their respective glitches.

"That is true," Prowl acknowledged, part of him wary but his trust of these mecha overriding the uneasy feeling. "What has changed?"

"Coding as old as our kind, awake again." Red Alert purred as Prowl was finally trapped between him and Inferno, the breeding code prompting to his field to flare and join with Inferno's, wrapping around Prowl.

"Should this not be brought to Prime?" Prowl felt himself responding as he would to Jazz and fought down his panic and desire to bolt. It wasn't right. He'd never looked at them this way before. He's never looked at *anyone* this way before. Not until Jazz had taught him about desire and pleasure. His fans picked up in response to his stress as his interface protocols and systems flared to life.

"It will be." Red Alert whispered, hope and promise in his voice as gentle hands reached out to trace along Prowl's frame, the stress detected and the fields shifting to soothe it automatically. "We need your help."

"What can I do to help?" Prowl asked automatically, his distress kicking up at the touch and at the difficulty he was having processing. "I..."

"It's all right, Prowl," Inferno murmured as his frame went flush with Prowl's back. He brought his hands up to stroke Prowl's doorwings, his field strengthening in the effort to sooth and muddle the powerful processors that were on the verge of panic.

"Enjoy this." Red Alert's voice was hypnotically soothing, so different from his normal uptight tone and speech patterns. "We aren't going to hurt you. We don't want to hurt you." He leaned in to nuzzle at Prowl's neck and chin, gentle affection in the touch. "You are strong. Wise. The perfect nest."

"Jazz..." Prowl could barely process the words, the only resistance in him from the assumption that it would upset his mate if he did this. "I shouldn't." He tried to take a step back, only to find Inferno holding him functionally immobile. "I'm not..."

"You are our best choice. Our best hope." Coding overrode any personal sorrow they might have felt, the overwhelming drive to provide the best chance for their creation smothering everything else as the intensity of the touches and fields picked up. Prowl's frame and field responded even as his processors objected for some reason he could no longer put name to.

"Of what?" Prowl asked, though he wasn't sure why. Then Inferno's lip plates caressed the top of his doorwing, sliding towards the joint and Prowl was lost with a low moan. It felt so good, warm between his lovers. They must be his lovers. No one else would bother touching him.

"At giving our creation, and us, a chance at a new life." Red Alert explained softly, willing to give their nest whatever it wanted as code driven protocols took over. He felt it through the mingled fields when Prowl had fully surrendered to the effects of their fields in reproductive mode.

"Berth," Inferno nudged both smaller mechs forward. "I don't think he'll stay compliant as long as most."

"Agreed." Red Alert said, backing away and guiding the willing frame of the Praxian with him.

Prowl felt himself move, aware but not himself. It was unsettling, but the pleasure was like nothing else. Not that he had much to go on, but he was sure the many millennia he'd been in Jazz's berth had...

Had what? Oh, that felt *good*. Better than he imagined a simple touch could. Lips were against his and he kissed back eagerly, if clumsily.

Approval washed over Prowl from every side, the pleasure only growing more intense as gentle hands continued to trace his frame, skimming over his chest and interface equipment suggestively. Both panels slid open, his spike extending quickly, his valve already slick. Another touch to the exposed equipment and he shivered with a low moan, pressing into the contact.

This felt impossibly good. Too good to be real. So maybe it didn't matter who he was between. If it wasn't real, there was nothing for Jazz to be upset about.

Why would Jazz be upset about anything that felt this *good*?