Title: Optics On Me

Characters: SunstreakerxProwl

Universe: G1

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Description: When it comes to Sunstreaker, Prowl likes what he sees, and Sunstreaker knows it


Take a break, Jazz said. Stretch out your cables. Get your energon pumping.

Go to the training room.

Prowl should have known by the thinly veiled mischief that Jazz was plotting. Then again, Jazz was always plotting.

Usually, last thing last shift, the training room was deserted. Very few Autobots stirred before the dawn unless it was required of them, and even then grudgingly. There were a few notable exceptions, but said bots weren't the sort to be found in the training room in the first place.

This morning was different and Prowl couldn't take his optics off the sight.

He circled around the ring, whisper-quiet with all the stealth he had learned and in turn, taught to Jazz. And Prowl watched, drinking in the view.

Gleaming armor was polished to perfection, catching the overhead lights with each shift of plating. Elegant movements declared martial forms with fluid skill, shifting from one stance into the next with not a wasted effort. The soft hiss of hydraulics and the scrape of pedes against matting filled the air. And the blue glow of optics, deep in concentration, shone from a faceplate devoid of the usual scowl.

Sunstreaker was beautiful.

Of course, the fragged glitch knew that but it was no less true. Whomever had designed his frame had been an artist.

He had to know Prowl was watching. Sunstreaker had a keen situational awareness, nearly on par with Red Alert. But he gave no sign that he knew Prowl was there, which meant he could watch to his spark's content. For all his vanity, Sunstreaker was surprisingly private about certain things. His training routines were one of these things.

On and off the battlefield, Sunstreaker was a vicious warrior with a short temper and a sharper glossa. He gave the impression of a mech who could not be tamed.

There were only a select few who knew any different. Prowl considered himself lucky to be one of these few.

Sunstreaker twisted and spun across the ring, arms whipping through the air, vents audibly cycling. His expression was one of deep focus and it was the closest to calm Prowl had ever seen him except for the one rare, unguarded moment of wistful thinking.

It was a moment never to be repeated, occurring when Sunstreaker had come across something in Teletraan-1's archives. Prowl never did find out what it was. He was waiting for Sunstreaker to tell him.

Sunstreaker on the battlefield was a terrifyingly gorgeous sight to behold, but Prowl rarely got to pay him that much undivided attention. There were other tasks to occupy his processor.

But here, he could watch. Here, Sunstreaker could be focused and the sight of it sent Prowl's own fans to spinning. There was something about seeing a notoriously violent mech tiptoeing toward peace that sent arousal singing through his circuits. Try as he might, Prowl could not keep his vents quiet.

He clasped his arms behind his back to hide their trembling urge to stroke Sunstreaker's armor, entertaining heated thoughts of taking advantage of their semi-privacy. Only Teletraan was watching, and perhaps Red Alert, but neither would mind.

Sunstreaker finished the last routine with a flourish, his field bursting out, filling the room with a smug triumph. His plating rippled, rising and falling like a bird ruffling its feathers, before he turned to face Prowl. He tried to act surprised but like his twin, could never contain his ego.

"Why, Prowl. I didn't see you there." He leaned on the ring's enclosure, all angles and lazy grace, his weight causing the thin metal chains to creak alarmingly. "Taking a break?"

Prowl performed a systems check, not that it helped. The heat was still there, flushing desire through his lines. "By some definition of the terms, yes."

Sunstreaker smirked. "Can I help you?" He flicked a hand over his right shoulder, brushing away an imaginary piece of dust that was in truth a calculated move to draw attention to his immaculate frame. "You look a little charged."

Prowl inclined his helm. "You know very well that I am. So get down here and do something about it."

"I have a better idea," Sunstreaker retorted, arching an orbital ridge at him. "Why don't you come up here and make me?" The request came out as a purr.

It also sounded like a challenge.

Prowl debated for 3.27 seconds. Jazz had told him to have some fun. This would count, wouldn't it?

"If you insist."

He climbed into the ring, vaulting over the barrier with ease. Sunstreaker backed up a few strides to give him room.

The warrior's smirk widened. "Don't pretend you're not aching for me right now," Sunstreaker said, vocals full of an arrogance that was just shy of obnoxious.

Prowl's field flexed. "I would never resort to lying."

Sunstreaker shifted into a defensive stance, one hand lifting in a come-hither gesture. "And Sideswipe says you have no charm. I do believe that was a compliment."

Prowl slipped into his own stance, though his was a bit more offensive. He would wipe that smirk off Sunstreaker's face and then have the warrior screaming his name.

Sunstreaker always did get more vocal after a work-out.


a/n: Slowly but surely I will continue to update this fic. I don't know when I'm going to run out of ideas but it won't be anytime soon. Promise.