Author's Note: Okay, so this was going to be a simple one-shot of pure, unadulterated smut.

Honestly, I have no clue how plot managed to sneak in here, but it did. This is the beginning of the colorful relationship between a Decepticon bounty hunter and an Autobot ninja. This fic is basically pure smut that somehow managed to get some plot, so if robots being physically intimate turns you off in any way, you should probably turn back cause that's all this is gonna be about for the first chapter or so. This fic follows loosely some of the plotlines of TFA, and picks up about halfway into A Fistful of Energon in season 2, but since this was originally meant to be straight smut, forgive me if I'm not following all the details religiously. Alrighty then, hold onto your helmets, cause here we go!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am a broke college student, not HASBRO in its entirety. I wish I was HASBRO. I'd like to rectify a few mistakes they allowed to occur *coughbayformerscoughcoughbeastmachinescough*. Plus, you know, wealth and stuff. ONWARDS TO THE FIC.

"So you wanna play bounty hunter? You better be ready to go aaaaall the way."

Lockdown fingered the helm, optics never leaving Prowl.

Prowl's own optics were locked on the armor. There was desire in those shining blue lights, a desire Lockdown knew was mirrored in his own red ones.

"You want it, don't you?" Lockdown asked, servo trailing down the side of the helmet. Prowl, unable for once to control himself, made a small whine of agreement. Lockdown chuckled, pinching one of the chevrons and rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger. "What would you be willing to...do for it, Prowl?"

"Anything," Prowl breathed, eyes not leaving the helm.

Lockdown flicked his glossa across his dental plates. "Anything...and anyone?"

Ah, that got his attention. Prowl's optics flicked for the first time to Lockdown. To the way he was leaning suggestively against the trophy case, to the fire burning in his optics.

"Oh," Prowl said, realization dawning on that gorgeous angular face.

"Yeah, 'oh'," Lockdown scoffed. "For someone as slippery as you, you're pretty slow on uptake." He pushed away from the trophy case and went to stand in front of Prowl. His servos trailed hungrily down the slight frame. "So what'dya say, kid? A little 'face time in exchange for the helmet? If it's not too-"

Lockdown was cut short by Prowl shoving him hard against the trophy case, lip plates pressing angrily, hungrily against Lockdown's. Lockdown growled in response, and his hands flew to Prowl's slender form, one hand cupped around his head to pull him tighter into the kiss, the hook curling possessively at his waist.

"You do catch on quick, don't you though?" Lockdown managed to get out as Prowl went for a taste of his neck cables.

Lockdown groaned at Prowl nipped at his cables a little harder than was absolutely necessary. It hurt, but Primus was it turning him on.

"Are you going to keep talking," Prowl asked him venting heavily. "Or are you going to frag me senseless, Decepticon?"

"Careful, Autobot," Lockdown purred, beginning to play with Prowl's chevrons the way he had the helmet's. He leaned in close to Prowl's audio receptors and murmured "Those're fighting words."

Prowl's legs went weak at the unexpected touch to such a sensitive area, and Lockdown was pleased with the loud moan it produced from him. Lockdown suddenly found himself supporting Prowl's weight. Well, he thought, this would be more interesting than he'd originally hoped.

Lockdown let Prowl slip slightly through his servos so that he had a better position on what he wanted to do. He still held Prowl up by his shoulders, but he dipped his head and wrapped his lips around one of Prowl's chevrons. Slowly, deliberately, Lockdown began sucking up and down the chevron's length, flicking his glossa out occasionally to scrape briefly against the pointed helm.

The sounds he managed to draw out of Prowl were almost as delicious as Prowl himself.

So focused was he on attending to Prowl that he didn't notice the other mech's wandering hands until they were inside his inexplicably opened interface panel.

Oh.

Lockdown threw his head back and let out a deep, guttural sound. It was probably originally meant to be Prowl's name. The noise that came out was far from sensical enough to be a name, however.

"You fragger...I didn't even feel you...ug...open me up."

Prowl smirked, and Lockdown wanted to swallow it with a kiss. "I am a ninja, Lockdown," Prowl reminded him, servos slowly ghosting along Lockdown's length. "I would be remiss if I couldn't manage at least this much." The Autobot was teasing him, fraggit. He was a Decepticon bounty hunter - he was powerful, deadly, and would not tolerate being teased by a slagging Autobot.

Roughly, Lockdown gripped Prowl tighter, spun him around, and rammed him up against the trophy case, harder than Prowl had done to him. Prowl winced and Lockdown put his lips against Prowl's audio receptors and hissed "I am going to frag you, Prowl. I am going to frag you so hard, you'll have glitches in your system for decacycles. You won't be able to see straight for twice that long. I am going to pound you into oblivion, and when I'm done, you'll be so dented you won't be able to transform. And you'll like it - you'll beg me for more, you pathetic little Autobot."

"I will hold you to that promise," Prowl returned smoothly, but the increased pace of his venting gave him away.

Lockdown held Prowl's optics with his own, and without looking began to fumble with Prowl's own interface panel. Intentionally, Lockdown let his fingers trail aimlessly in their quest for the catch. Prowl's engine hitched, his frame quivering, and leaned in for a kiss. Lockdown pulled away. Prowl had been teasing him earlier; payback was such a bitch.

Prowl whined needily, straining to claim Lockdown's lips. But Lockdown pushed him back against the trophy case and kept exploring Prowl's interface panel. It was so gratifying to see the pure need in Prowl's optics, coupled with pleasure as Lockdown pressed just right against his catch.

"Would you like me to release you," he asked quietly, fingers playing at the edges of the panel.

"Y-y-yes," Prowl breathed, and Lockdown felt gratified by the stutter in that usually smooth voice.

Lockdown gripped the panel hard, and Prowl gasped, optics going wide. "Beg," Lockdown said huskily. "Beg me to open your panel."

"P-p-please," Prowl said. It was delicious how readily he complied, how easy it was to turn him into putty. "Please, oh...primus, please…"

Lockdown's fingers pressed hard so close to the release catch that Prowl groaned and pressed himself as close to Lockdown as possible, clinging desperately to his spikes. "Frag, please, I'm begging you…"

"Say my name," Lockdown commanded, massaging his fingers into the seam of the panel.

"Ung, you slagger," Prowl hissed, and Lockdown felt his systems humming at the sound of Prowl uttering profanities.

"Say it, Autobot," he repeated, pressing hard into the seam. Prowl half winced, his engines revving hard.

Slowly, deliberately, almost as though he were tasting the sounds as they came off of his glossa, Prowl held Lockdown's eyes and whispered "Lock...down."

Lockdown shuddered at how hot that made him. He flicked the catch on the interface panel, sliding it open. He ran his hand along Prowl's equipment, eliciting heady moans from Prowl. Primus, but could that mech moan.

He moved to do more, but Prowl stayed his hand, the other servo wandering across Lockdown's body, fingers digging into cracks in his armor with a painful sensuality. "Are you going to return the favor?" Prowl asked, a devious light in his optics. "Aren't you going to say my name, Lockdown."

Lockdown smirked. "That ain't how it works. You want the helmet, I call the shots."

Prowl looked unimpressed. "That is hardly fair," he commented.

Lockdown made a humming noise of agreement. "Life ain't fair. Deal with it." And then, because Prowl's pout was too adorable to miss out on, he claimed the other mech's lip-plates with his own.

"So how do you want me, then?" Prowl asked, between Lockdown's attentions to his lips and virtually every other part of his head and neck. "Should I make this difficult, or do you want me all nicely tied up with a pretty pink bow?"

"Mmm, pink doesn't suit you," Lockdown purred into Prowl's ear, and playfully began grinding his open panel against Prowl's. Prowl shuddered, his engine sputtering, and nipped at Lockdown's neck cords again. "I think...mmph...energon chains...ah...suit you...mm...so much more, don't you...think, kid?"

"Don't...call me...uuug...kid," the motorcycle hissed, clinging to the spikes along Lockdown's back as he started grinding harder.

"Why? Does it...uh...bother you? Kid."

Smoothly, Prowl hooked one of his legs behind one of Lockdown's, sending the two crashing to the ground, Prowl landing on Lockdown's chest.

"Quite the temper you got there," Lockdown noticed conversationally, as though he hadn't just been grinding his exposed equipment against Prowl's mere seconds ago.

Prowl's only response was to quickly steal a passionate kiss from Lockdown, position himself above Lockdown's port, and then drive powerfully (almost painfully) home.

"Primus," Lockdown panted, enjoying how Prowl was taking control. "Maybe...UH...I should call you….kid, mm….more often...if this is….uh...the result."

Prowl drove his spike hard into Lockdown's port, and Lockdown cried out in pain, then ecstasy as Prowl's magnetised spike locked into Lockdown's port and they both went straight into overload. Lockdown clenched around Prowl, his hand and claw scrabbling to find purchase on Prowl's body as they both rode out the energy waves.

Prowl fell, vents cycling loudly, onto Lockdown's chassis, apparently spent. His optics were closed, and Lockdown couldn't help but entertain the idea Prowl might be a virgin. Obviously that wasn't true, what with how masterfully he'd just overloaded the both of them. But the poor mech just seemed so exhausted. No stamina whatsoever.

Lockdown stroked Prowl's helm, lingering on the chevrons and making him shudder. "I didn't say you could overload me," Lockdown murmured quietly. Prowl's hands tightened a little on where they gripped Lockdown, but he didn't say anything. "You'll need to be punished." He ran a finger down Prowl's cheek. "Such a pretty face," he murmured. "I'd love to see it smeared with lubricant."

Prowl shivered, this time with anticipation as Lockdown, grinning wickedly, slowly started guiding the robo-ninja's helm towards his pelvis.

"Nice," Lockdown said appreciatively, circling Prowl like a sharkticon. "Veeery nice."

Lockdown's ship was a mess. His trophy case had long been knocked over well into the night, after they'd thrown one another into it one too many times. There was lubricant on the floor in various places, stasis cuffs and energon chains, as well as more questionable toys scattered around the room.

Lockdown felt he'd made good on his promise. Both of them were dented and scraped and covered in the other's fluids (not all of it was lubricant - they'd gotten into a fight halfway through, and energon was spilled on both sides before Lockdown, pinned by Prowl, had claimed a hot and heady kiss and they'd started all over again).

And now Prowl was wearing that armor he'd so desperately wanted.

"Well kid, what'dya think? Was it worth it?" Lockdown asked, lounging up against the control console (they'd bent each other over that a few times, and he'd have to recalibrate a few of his settings in order for the ship to fly properly).

"It was...an acceptable trade," Prowl said, examining the seams and edges of the armor to make sure everything was in place.

"Mmm, it's a shame, though," Lockdown mused, moving away from the console to run a single finger down a seam on Prowl's back. "You worked so hard to get into that armor." He slipped his arms under Prowl's and purred into his audio receptors "And now all I want to do is get you out of it again."

Prowl stiffened in his arms, then twisted around in Lockdown's embraced and pulled the taller mech's helm down to his own lip plates. He succeeded in getting a kiss out of Lockdown, but threw off the larger mech's balance, and the two went toppling to the floor once more.

"Excuse me Ratchet, but if you could spare-"

"WHAT the SLAGGING PITS happened to YOU?"

"I...Ratchet, there is no need for-"

"I'LL decide what there's a need for in MY med bay, thank you very much. Now, what the slag happened?"

"I...erm...I got in a fight."

"What, with an angry blender that got itself stuck between your thighs?"

"Ratchet, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't speak of this to anyone."

"...are you telling me there actually WAS a homicidal blender? Do we need to get the rest of the team out there to deal with it? Should we call Detroit's housewives and ask if any of them are missing a blender? Or if any of them have been tinkering with evil electrical intelligence, perhaps?"

"Primus Ratchet, I don't need this kind of abuse."

"You want repairs, you're putting up with it!"

"...it wasn't a blender per say. Honestly...I'm not entirely sure what it was."

"Primus, what did you DO, Prowl?"

"Something...probably something irrevocably stupid."

"From the look of you, I'd have to agree."