One-Shot: In secret, the youngest of Team Prime are in a relationship. A sparring match ends in getting caught. 

Requested by: Forgot_The_Love

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A certain rookie was preparing himself as he stretched out every wire that threaded through his systems. He was not letting Team Prime's scout take him down this sparring match. Over his lifeless form. 

A certain scout shook his helm on his side of the sparring room as he watched the white and blue mech stretch in ridiculous positions. He just crossed his arms at the others' antics across the room. 

The two youngest of Team Prime were alone as everyone else was on a recon mission. Besides Ratchet of course, but he was manning the ground bridge. Optimus had been leaving the two alone quite a bit. It was obvious he had wanted the two to bond. The Prime knew what it meant to have a peer around for Bumblebee finally. It was the least the older mech could provide the war ridden scout. However, the Prime didn't realize that the relationship had blossomed into something even more. Something that was almost foreign to the war. A loving relationship. 

"Would you quit it already and get your aft kicking over with? Optimus might need us," Bumblebee cockily beeped and cocked his hip. Smokescreen stood up completely as he sized up the yellow mech. 

"I think you meant your aft kicken, Bee," Smokescreen countered. The slightly shorter, yellow bot got into a battle stance as Smokescreen smiled at him. "Surprised you're this energetic this morning, I thought I wore you out earlier."

Bumblebee was caught off guard, his wings perked up at the comment. The yellow mech felt his faceplates heat up slightly. Before he could retaliate to the white mech, he was flipped onto his backstruts. The scout groaned slightly at the sudden movement, but gained his focus back on the task at hand. In one swift motion, the yellow mech wrapped his servo around the other mechs' wrist that was holding him and pulled. The white and blue detailed Autobot yelped as he his chestplates met that of the floor. Bee placed a ped in between the doorwings of the mech below him. 

"I'd watch your mouth, Smokes," triumphant was evident in a certain yellow bot's beeps and clicks. Smokescreen smiled at the floor as he felt the younger bot shift above him. The pinned bot brought his ped backwards to kick the Autobot above him forward, causing the mech to fall to the floor. The rookie did a push-up to get himself off of the ground. Bumblebee stood a few feet away, ready for another attack. 

"Bring it, Bee."

Metal on metal was heard echoing through the base. Clashing and scraping, the abrupt yet short noises caught a medic's attention who occupied the communications station. Ratchet frowned to himself as he tore himself away from his screen and made his way to the sparring room. The oldest bot peeked around the slight opening of the room. He watched as white and yellow clashed together in a friendly battle. Optimus was right, it was good for the two to have someone their age around base. Someone could finally wear out Bumblebee enough that Ratchet could work in peace. He would remind himself to thank Optimus later. 

"Tired yet," Smokescreen asked as he noticed the slow drooping of Bee's doorwings. The scout shook his head. It was evident that he was getting a little annoyed at the constant punches and how long the sparr was taking. Though, the white mech liked the challenge and liked the fact that he was annoying a certain yellow mech. Smokescreen let Bumblebee advance on him. Bee managed to get a swift punch to the chassis, but Smokescreen kicked out a ped to Bumblebee's knee struts. The scout hit the ground, Smokescreen following pursuit and pinning him to the floor. The rhythmic venting of the two young Autobots filled each others' audio receptors. Their optics met as the heat between the two forms became almost unbearable. "I win."

"Oh shut up," countered the sore loser of a scout. 

Ratchet smiled slightly at the black and yellow bot's whirrs. The medic was about to go back to the common room when he saw Smokescreen lean in to Bumblebee. A swift peck to Bumblebee's cheekplating had Ratchet's eyebrow ridges rise and his optics go wide. The medic was fully prepared to throw a wrench at Smokescreen for taking advantage of the situation, but he saw Bumblebee giggle out a few clicks. What could this be?

"Now get off me so I can go wash up. I have to get the kids from school and I would rather them not have to smell my overheated vents," Bee whined as he pushed at the bot pinning him to the ground. 

The white mech smiled deviously, "I can help with that."

"Hey!" The door flew ajar. The youngest bots of Team Prime scrambled away from each other. The old medic was pointing a digit in their direction, "no macking in the public areas you two!"

The couple had their optics wide. "R-Ratchet, how much did you see," spoke up the scout. 

"Enough. Now I won't tell anyone until you two are ready. However, I suggest doing . . . your personal things in private areas. Clear?" 

"Clear."

"Crystal."

Ratchet put his servos on his hips as he 'tsked' the two. Without another word, he left the room. Bumblebee and Smokescreen stood up next to each other. Smokescreen spoke up, "who still says macking?" Bumblebee whipped his helm in his direction and elbowed his lover in the abdomen.