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Prowl resisted the urge to rub at his optics as he walked down the corridor to his quarters. He had had a long day, but it was essential to keep up the appearance of a calm, confident, officer in public. Prowl was just looking forward to getting home and relaxing with Bluestreak, his creation, and his new partner, Jazz.
Jazz had moved in with Prowl and Bluestreak recently, and, to Prowl's relief, Bluestreak seemed to be handling it reasonably well. He had pushed back a few times when Jazz had asked him to do things, but no more than he sometimes did with Prowl. It was normal adolescent behaviour, and Prowl was relieved. Bluestreak and Jazz loved each other, but having your creator's court-mate coming to visit regularly was different from gaining a step-creator. It helped, Prowl thought, that Jazz was easygoing, and Bluestreak had a kind spark.
Prowl opened the door to his quarters and was greeted by music. It wasn't Jazz playing, though, it was Bluestreak, gingerly picking out a scale on one of Jazz's guitars. Bluestreak sat on the couch, and Jazz had pulled a chair over and was sitting in front of him. Jazz had a guitar of his own and was demonstrating finger positions for Bluestreak to mimic.
" – make it look so easy," Bluestreak was saying as Prowl walked in.
"Had a lot more practice, Blue," Jazz reassured him. "You'll get there." He turned and smiled at Prowl. "Hey, Prowler! Welcome back!"
"Hi, Prowl," Bluestreak said, a touch absently, concentrating on the placement of his fingers on the guitar strings.
Prowl smiled, immediately feeling more relaxed at the domestic sight, a world away from tactics and battles. "Hello, darlings." He walked over, kissed the top of Bluestreak's bent helm, then kissed Jazz on the mouth. "How did everything go today?"
"Good," Bluestreak said, a little vaguely, still focused on the guitar. "I finished all my lessons early."
"Yeah, he finished up while I was practicing," Jazz added. "Had a few questions, so…"
"Jazz said he could teach me to play," Bluestreak added, frowning down at his hands as he hit a wrong note. "Mm…"
"Keep going, you'll get it," Jazz encouraged. "Prowler, you look like you had a long day. How about you sit down and I'll get our dinner together. We made a tray of treats earlier, too, so there's dessert."
"Alright."
Prowl sat on the couch and just watched them: Jazz setting out additives and pouring their cubes, putting square treats on a plate for after. Bluestreak was fiercely focused on the scale he was trying to master. Prowl thought Jazz might be moving a little bit more slowly than he needed to, just to give Prowl some time to decompress and Bluestreak to work on his scale.
Finally, Bluestreak managed to get through it without a mistake and looked up at Jazz with a big smile. "I did it!"
Jazz smiled back proudly. "You sure did, m'mech! Ready for fuel?"
"Yeah. Will you teach me more later?"
"'Course!"
Prowl joined Jazz in their little kitchen area and claimed another kiss before taking his seat at the table while Bluestreak carefully put the guitar away. While they fuelled, Prowl asked Bluestreak about his lessons, Jazz about his day. None of them mentioned the war, or Prowl or Jazz's positions in Autobot command. Prowl praised the treats they'd made, which truly were delicious, and then spent the evening quietly playing a strategy game while Jazz and Bluestreak continued their music lesson. It was peaceful and domestic, and Prowl could almost put the war out of his mind. It couldn't last, and he knew that, but for now…for now, it was enough.