Slag Off

AN: Shortly after Off Balance, Sideswipe discovers something new about Prowl.

Sideswipe strode into the room, his optics bright and step far too jaunty for his own good.

Sunstreaker growled, returning to the datapad in his hands.

Sideswipe flopped down next to his brother, flinging an arm over the golden mech's shoulder. "Springer gone already?"

Sunstreaker leaned away from the red mech, grimacing at the strong scent of ozone, a telltale sign of recent overload. He grumbled rather than answer; the factory reject just had to rub it in, didn't he?

Sideswipe chuckled and sprawled out on his brother's berth, joints creaking with satisfaction.

Sunstreaker's grip tightened on the datapad, the metal frame bending under his strong fingers. How many painful ways could he deactivate his brother, right then? It would be a bit of a twist to reach his head, but his legs were within easy reach...

"Shouldn't he be too busy with all the slag that happened in that last battle anyways? Why the frag does he even have the energy to blow your fuses?"

Sideswipe hummed happily. "Guess he's just a mech like any of us, and enjoys a little bit of down time," and the way the red mech purred the words 'down time' had Sunstreaker sliding that much farther away, "just like the rest of us substandard models."

Sunstreaker shot his brother a scathing glare. "You might be a substandard factory reject, but I'm the best parts they had."

Sideswipe shifted in a shrug, grin melting into the pleased mien of the newly-bonded (which he had absolutely no fragging right to wear!).

Sunstreaker sneered. "Prowl can't even be that great of a lay. Come on, he's got that rod up his aft all the time."

Infuriatingly enough, Sideswipe didn't react.

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, no longer focused on the screen as he tried to gauge Sideswipe's mood.

Besides sated, that much was obvious.

"Seriously, Sides, that mech is so tight that even oil wouldn't loosen him up. He's boring, he's-"

"Likes handcuffs."

Sunstreaker sputtered to a stop, shooting an alarmed glance at his brother.

Sideswipe rubbed at his wrists, grinning like a maniac.

Sunstreaker decided that he did not just see scorch marks circling his brother's wrists. He did not still see telltale flecks of white paint on the tips of his fingers, or scuffed into his hip plates. He resolutely turned back to his datapad.

"And he likes chains too..."

The golden warrior shuddered. "No. He doesn't."

Sideswipe propped himself up, poking Sunstreaker in the side. "What the frag do you know about it?"

"Nothing. And I don't want to know anything. Prowl does not like handcuffs. And he doesn't like chains. And you, little fragger, are not discussing any of this with me. He didn't use any of those things on you. He is boring." Sunstreaker turned to glare at his brother. "And I want him to remain that way." He seized his brother's arm and pulled with all his might. "Now get your disgusting aft off my berth and go pollute your own. And no more nasty talk or someone's going to wind up with the worst paint job since Kup."

His threat would have worked oh-so-much better if that slaghead brother of his wasn't laughing so hard his vocalizer fritzed.

Author's Notes I know that Stormed Off was only 2 chapters ago (not counting this one), but for me, it has been even longer since I dealt with a non-angsty/depressing chapter for these two. I have another one planned, but that one must wait until the conclusion of the Jazz Arc, and who knows how long it'll be until I get back to that. So this is just a little reminder—as much to myself, as to anyone else—that these two are fun together.. Even if Sunny's not too inclined to agree. ;)