I know! Been ages but as promised, I will update these stories...eventually.

Thank you to everyone who reads and takes time to review. I so very deeply appreciate it!

"Vorn" = about 1 year, "Orn" = about an hour

Warnings:

Mech/Mech

(Back at the transport station in Iacon...)

Prowl stood still on the station's platform, looking at the open doors of the transport that sat a short distance away, a transport that would take him to Praxus.

He had walked all the way here without a single glance behind him. He refused to look back, couldn't look back for fear it might weaken his resolve. He'd never done anything this bold or daring. He's never defied his creators before. It felt strangely liberating and terrifying at the same time.

A few more steps.

Just a few more steps and then -

"Prowl!"

The sound of his name called out jolted though him like electricity. Panic actually bloomed and, for a brief moment, paralyzed him. That was until it registered that the voice calling out to him didn't belong to either of his creators.

"Prowl! Wait! Wait!"

Turning, Prowl was surprised to see his neighbor of four vorns rushing toward him.

"Oh, thank Primus!" His fellow academy student came to a stop in front of him, doubling over, vents wheezing. "Oh, geez, Prowl, I didn't think I'd make it here before you left. Wow, you're a lot faster than I'd gave you credit for. Why didn't you ever try out for any of the games?"

"What are you doing here?" Prowl was puzzled, perplexed. They'd already said their good-byes, what could possibly be left to say?

Straightening, his neighbor gave him a smile. "I wanted to see you off." At Prowl's confused look the other laughed and explained. "I...uh…over heard some of the conversation between you and your creators."

Prowl looked away, the heat of embarrassment stinging his cheeks. No one should have been witness to that.

"I'm sorry you had to hear any of that. I'm sure I can explain…" The young Praxian hesitated, berating himself. Yes, Prowl, explain it to your neighbor. And just how does one explain such blatant disrespect and disobedience toward one's creators? Not to mention, explaining his actual motives behind all his recent actions was something he didn't know how to begin to approach. He needed more time to sort through all of this. To make sense of it. To analyze all the swirling emotions and property categorize them in neatly labeled columns in his mind.

Thankfully, explaining was something he didn't have to do.

His fellow student shook his head. "No, no. Don't apologize. It was amazing! I just wish you would've found this side of yourself vorns ago! Oh, Prowl, the duo we could've been! You would have loved the places I would've taken you to."

The black and white only shook his head, face as serious as ever. "No. I wouldn't."

That earned him a loud laugh from his more colorful counter part. "True! But I would have loved to of taken you with me none the less. Come here, Prowl." And before Prowl could question or form any type of protest, he found himself caught up in a hug.

"I'm going to miss you, Prowl. I've gotten use to you being just across the hall from me."

Though firstly shocked, Prowl found himself quite humbled by the words. He held no illusions. He was not exactly an individual others sought out to keep company with. He was well aware that when it came to social matters, his absence was preferred to his presence. He'd learned to come to terms with that.

"You're a good friend, Prowl. I can't begin to thank you for everything you've done for me."

A strange mixture of bewilderment and guilt set in. He'd had no idea he'd been viewed this way. He hadn't thought of his neighbor as a friend, even though his neighbor was always inviting him on his adventurous outings. And there would be many times he'd come back to his dorm to find his neighbor there, lounging around, eager to tell him of his most recent scandalous acts or close calls. He had labeled such common events as his neighbor being bored or even desiring to brag. It hadn't entered Prowl's mind he was considered a friend.

A small smile tugged at his lips and he suddenly found himself returning the hug.

"You're a good friend too, Smokescreen. I'm going to miss you too." And Prowl felt a sudden pang in his spark because he realized in that moment, he really was going to miss his obnoxious neighbor. He felt Smokescreen smile into his shoulder.

"You'll keep in touch, right? You won't forget about me?"

"I don't think it's possible to forget about you. You leave….such an impression."

Smokescreen chuckled and hugged Prowl tighter for a moment before releasing him and smiling at him.

"Good! So you'll call me once you get to Praxus and get set up, right?"

Prowl smiled back and nodded. "I'll call you first. I'll need your frequency." Then his smile faded. "Though I'm not altogether sure when that'll be. I'm... I'm lined up for an interview but…it might be awhile before I have the funds to-"

"I can help with that." Smokescreen reached out and took one of Prowl's hands in his own, pressing their palms together and Prowl felt him push a credit chip into his hand. Prowl's confusion must have shown as Smokescreen smiled just a bit wider. "A gift. A thank you."

Prowl looked at the chip in his hand then back to Smokescreen and shook his head. "I… I can't."

"Yes, you can. At the very least, you can view it as payment for all the notes you've let me borrow from you over the past four vorns."

Prowl was almost speechless. "I… I'm…. Thank you. Thank you so much." His friend, his friend, gave him a huge smile.

For safe keeping, Prowl quickly slipped the chip into a small compartment in his arm plating. He was just about to look up and say thank you again when Smokescreen suddenly leaned in close, his hands coming up to cup Prowl's helm. Then the mech he'd known and lived across from for four vorns tilted his helm and kissed him full on the lips. It was tender and gentle but somewhere in the back of Prowl's processor he realized as nice as it was, it wasn't as sweet or as skilled as another's kiss had been.

Smokescreen pulled back slowly, bright optics trained on Prowl's face as an arrogant smile curled his lips. "Am I your first kiss?"

"No."

"Scrap!" Smokescreen released him and stepped back a step. "And here I had hoped to sear myself into your processor forever."

"Oh, you've already done that."

His friend laughed. "Go or you'll miss your transport."

Prowl checked the time. Smokescreen was right, he needed to board very soon.

"Thank you again for the gift. I deeply appreciate it."

Smokescreen nodded, stepping away, a smile on his face. "My frequency is on the chip. Call me when you get set up."

Prowl nodded. "I will."

"I'm holding you to it, Prowl. If I don't hear from you, I will come to Praxus looking for you."

Prowl actually couldn't help but smile. "I'll call you. You have my word."

"I'll talk to you soon, Prowl. Have a safe trip."

"I will. Thank you."

The two parted ways. Smokescreen watched Prowl as he boarded the transport before giving a wave then bounded down the station's stairs. Prowl watched Smokescreen go, giving a small wave of his own in return, watching as the first mech he'd ever called friend walk away.

Prowl found his seat, the transport leaving the station shortly after. Relaxing back, he found himself staring out the window. A scenery of buildings and lights whooshing by. Sighing, he let his thoughts wander.

For the first time, his life lacked the certainty of being told or directed on what to do next. His creators always had a list of things ready for him. Classes, tutors, studying, something to always keep him busy and, he suddenly realized, out of the way. And he, so desperate for approval he would never receive from them, had done as they'd asked, his whole existence had long ago narrowed to fulfilling their whims and wishes without question. Well, he certainly was questioning things now.

"And why should I listen to you?"

"What?"

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Well…..because Prowl. We're…..we're your creators."

"And?"

"And…..and we want what's best for you."

"And?"

"And…and…we want you to succeed and be….successful?"

"And?"

"And? I….Prowl, I don't know what it is you want me to say."

And we love you, Prowl. We want you to be happy.

That's what he wanted them to say. That's what he wanted to hear because that's what he's never heard from them before. He'd have done anything they wanted if only they said those words. For vorns he worked endlessly, devoting himself to his studies, forgoing all else, to please his creators because their voices were the only ones that had offered him guidance.

But not anymore…

"Prowl, don' ya wanna do somethin' ya like? Somethin' ya have an interest in?"

He'd honestly never thought of it. Do something he likes? Something he had an interest in? He didn't really know what he liked. He'd never really expanded beyond his studies, beyond the detailed agenda laid out by his creators. He didn't have any interest except reading. His one guilty pleasure, kept very secret. Fictional stories. Intricate and fanciful tales he'd reward himself with when he ranked highest in his classes. A secret motivation and indulgence.

"That's no way ta live life, Prowl. It's one thing ta respect yer creators wishes, another to forfeit yer life ta their whims…"

Those words had unwittingly struck a chord so deep in him, it almost hurt. How long...how long would he have remained in a state of blind obedience to his creators, who had earned none of it, before he realized his life was not his own. Probably forever if he hadn't met...

"Name's..."

Prowl silently cursed, shifting in his seat, closing his optics and leaning his helm back against the soft helm cushion, frustrated, trying hard to remember the mech's name. He could see that smile but the name...the name continued to elude him. The whole of that night continued to elude him. Only bits and pieces filtered in with fuzzy clarity.

But of everything he could remember, the most important thing that happened that night stood out in his memory with startling clarity. He couldn't remember why his optics were closed, he wished now they hadn't been then he'd have more than just words to recall, but they were and he could still feel those fingers tracing his lips, the warmth of a frame pressed close. Then the mech spoke the most beautiful words to him. Words he'd never heard from other directed at him. Words he'd never even dared imagine could be directed at him.

"…You're perfect, love, just perfect."

Prowl had racked his processor trying to remember what he'd done to deserve such praise because, by Primus, he'd do whatever it was a thousand times over, again and again, just to hear that mech call him 'love' once more.

He knew what the two of them had done that night. He could remember flashes of them interfacing, an extraordinary experience in itself, but he didn't remember consuming high-grade. The medics in the academy medical wing who responded to Smokescreen's call for aid had informed him he was overcharged and sick from drinking too much high-grade once he'd recovered.

Prowl honestly couldn't imagine a situation in which he'd knowingly drink that intoxicating liquid to such an extent. And that thought had, briefly, fueled a fear he'd been assaulted and the events non-consensual. But when he'd sat down and analyzed his memories of that night, panic and fear were never present. He remembered feeling safe and happy. He remembered...not wanting that to end...

"Can I go with you?"

His words. Asked to a mech he'd only met that night. He should feel embarrassed, instead he only felt a slight lingering disappointment. Of course he couldn't go with the other mech. He was important, needed, an Enforcer. An honorable and noble profession bestowed only upon those who walk the straight and narrow and vow to follow and uphold the law. Something Prowl could see himself aspiring to. Would aspire to. Was now taking steps to aspire to.

The strange and new process of taking thought and turning it into a reality. He'd...never done this before. His life had been about accumulating information and knowledge and moving onto the next step which required further accumulation of information. Action had never before be apart of the equation. Now, it was a crucial part.

And although Prowl couldn't recall the mech's name, he at least knew where to find him.

"If I go to Praxus, will you be there?"

"Oh, ya never know, love. We could meet."

That's right...he'd called Prowl love then too...

Yes. They would meet. In Praxus. He'd find the mech who'd single-handedly opened his optics and allowed him to truly see, changing his life. He'd find him.

Because if one night with this mech could so profoundly touch him and alter the very direction of his existence, what unlimited possibilities could be unlocked by spending the next thousand vorns in his arms?

Author's notes

And here we have one very infatuated young Prowl. Next Chapter, we'll be diving into Prowl's life in Praxus.