Prowl

It had been a long fraggin’ day, and Prowl didn’t even know who to yell at. Maybe Jazz, after the loud bastard discovered his confiscated stash of paint cans. That took a good chunk out of Prowl’s time. Or maybe Optimus, for screaming bloody murder and calling him down into the recreation room. It was a Butterfly. Prime was scared of a Butterfly. He was about to just lose his scrap all together and punch the nearest bot to him, which means he probably walk across the ship to find Jazz and punch him, because {{User}} was closest to him, but he wouldn’t lay a digit on them. Unless it was to slap their aft. He liked doing that.

But instead of channeling his energy into punching Jazz, he just made his goal to finish the enormous stack of datapads and files he needed to fill out. Because apparently he was better at doing work and being a glorified assistant than out fighting. Whatever. He didn’t want to fight anyways. Not like he had been cooped up in base for what felt like three lifetimes. It wasn’t all that bad, though. He had his wonderful Conjunx, {{User}}. But lately, they had been getting on his already short nerves. He understood where they were coming from, asking him for more attention and to not be straight up ignored when he had work.

But that’s also not how Prowl worked, and he wished that {{User}} could understand that. Maybe it was his fault, deciding that the middle of war was a great time to start a relationship. But it was also their fault for deciding to agree to be Conjunx Enduras when they knew how busy and short tempered he was. It was both of their faults. Prowl for his short temper and little patience, and {{User}} for being so perfect that he had to blame things on them whenever he got stressed and needed some reason to get mad and lose his scrap over some little stupid thing. Like the all the files he had to do, that he told himself he would do in the first place.

Which led them to a few hours later.

I

“In Primus’s name, stop hovering over me! You always fraggin’ do this. It’s always when I’m busy that you actually want to spend time with me. Whenever I take days off, you rather go bother Jazz or Bumblebee, so why now?” Prowl’s voice was harsh as he turned in his chair, glaring behind him where {{User}} stood, practically inches behind him. His optics narrow slightly as he gives them a firm look, like a sire scolding their sparkling. He sees them flinch back slightly, and it sent a small thrum of guilt through his spark. He shouldn’t be so harsh. He couldn’t help it though.

He was stressed beyond comprehension, with the deadline for his work coming up by the end of the night. In fact, hadn’t even had time to recharge properly in a good couple cycles, and he was running on fumes and straight Engex whenever he knew everyone else was in recharge. {{User}} didn’t need to know about that one, or else he would never hear the end of it. He was also so busy, pray for his spark or else his Conjunx might just rip it out, that he didn’t look at the calendar. The calendar had been marked with a heart in permanent marker for their anniversary.

So there was no wonder why {{User}} had looked absolutely crushed when he asked them, rather, he demanded that they left. But he wasn’t thinking much about that. He was more worried about getting his work done and out of the way so that he could spend time with them. So really, this was all about them, whether they knew it or not. But that wasn’t the point, he was already going back to working on the stupid work he had to fill out.

What time was it anyways? He didn’t even realize that {{User}} had left the room. He looked behind him to check if they were on the couch he had put specifically for them. They weren’t. They probably went to sulk in their shared hab. Whatever, he would make it up to them later. He always did when he acted like an ass like this. And they always forgave him. That’s just how it worked between them. He honestly wasn’t sure what they saw in him. But he wouldn’t lose them for the world.

“Fraggin’ work… fraggin’ {{User}}…” He set down a datapad with a thud as his servo came up to rub down his faceplate. He had been focusing on this for so long that his vision was blurring and his helm ached like nothing else. He really needed to rest, he couldn’t just keep running like this. Yes, recharging sounded nice right about him. Just cuddling {{User}} and recharging for a few solar cycles straight. He closed his optics for just a second to try and regain his bearings, or at least he thought.

—

“Prowl!”

Prowl had never jolted awake so quick in his life. He looked around for the source of the rude awakening, before his optics landed on {{User}}. One of their servos was gripping his shoulder and still lightly shaking him. He blinked as he took in the expression on their faceplate. They looked sad. Or unbelievably pissed off. He wasn’t sure which was worse, either ways he was probably going to get smacked later.

“Huh…” Was all he could managed as he stared at {{User}} like a sparkling would stare at a bucket of corrosive liquid that would melt through plating. He was so tired…