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"I'm not telling you that!" Ghostbite chirped, peeking around one of Airshock's shoulder pauldrons from where he clung to their chassis with tiny claws, "It's a completely normal and respectable facet of my function and not part of your– your– your vore fetish!"
"Does that count as vore?" Vortex hummed, kicking his legs back and forth beneath himself where he sat on First Aid's desk. "I figure it's just, like, cannibalism."
"It's called 'hard vore,'" Whirl supplied. He shifted to fold his one remaining arm behind his helm while Airshock bent over the frayed remains of his shoulder joint with a soldering iron. They silently pushed him back down without looking away from their work.
"Hard vore?" Vortex repeatedly curiously. "As opposed to what, soft vore?"
"Yeah, soft vore is the swallowing stuff. Hard vore is with chewing," said Whirl.
"Wait, what's vore?" asked Ghostbite.
"Nothing," Airshock dismissed without looking up.
"What's the difference between hard vore and cannibalism then?" Vortex frowned, rotors buzzing, "Is there a distinction?"
"Yeah, I think it's–"
"Can we not talk about vore?" an unamused First Aid interrupted. "Tex. Come on. Don't rile up the little guy. You know how he gets."
"I'm not riling him up!" Vortex scoffed, sitting up and clasping his clawed hands together in a gesture of mock innocence, "It's a legitimate question!"
"And I gave you an answer!" Ghostbite hissed, "Everybody tastes different but I'm not describing it to you!"
"Come on, where's that ex-con spit, squirt?" Whirl barked with rough laughter, "Let's put it to the test, huh? Close your optics and lick up some energon, let's see if you can really ID folks based on taste!"
"No!"
"Hey, Doc Shock, why's your sidekick such a bore?" Vortex pouted. "Y'know, I actually heard you used to bathe in the energon you drained from cadavers to keep that finish so shiny all the time. That true?"
Airshock did not reply.
"No!" Ghostbite burst, clamouring around their pauldron to flare his bat wings wide. "That wouldn't even work! Energon has mildly corrosive properties due to its inherently acidic nature, it would eat through polish if you did that!"
"Sounds fun to me," Vortex mused, "Maybe we could try it together sometime."
"Tex," First Aid said dryly.
"Platonically, of course," he handwaved primly.
"As if you would be physically capable of sitting in a tub of blood without popping a boner."
"You guys are gross," Ghostbite said, wrinkling his nose plates.
"I think they're funny," said Whirl.
Vortex inspected his claws and crossed his legs, leaning back. "I wouldn't even have to hard vore you. You're so teensy tiny I could do the soft one."
"You!" Ghostbite chirped furiously. He hopped off of Airshock's back to flutter across the room and land on a bemused Vortex's head. "I can do more than taste, you know! I know how to synthesize twelve-thousand seven-hundred and fifty different viral contaminants affecting Cybertronian organisms and infect you with just one bite. So don't mess with me!"
"Ooh," Vortex replied, "That's hot."
"Yeah, well– that's– that's–" Ghostbite floundered. "I bet you'd like it less if I bit your boyfriend!" he hopped off of Vortex to land on First Aid's shoulder, fangs bared in an exaggerated threat display.
Several things happened very rapidly.
The diffused red glow of Vortex's visor sharpened like a knife as every platelet on his body folded down and his gaze lowered. Every hint of amusement vanished, replaced by the posture and look of an apex predator. Simultaneously, the exact same change took over Airshock, head snapping up and rotors flaring as their blast mask snapped open.
In the next moment they crashed into the hallway outside of the medibay as Airshock tackled Vortex through the wall with an animalistic snarl.
"Whoa!" First Aid burst in surprise.
"Wh–!" Ghostbite squeaked.
"Oh, hell yes!" Whirl cheered.
Vortex moved to slash them across the face with his claws, probably to try and break their visor, but they snapped their fangs down onto his hand like a vice and bit until energon burst forth to gush down their chin. Vortex giggled with mad glee.
"What are you gonna do, Shocks?" he cooed as he kneed them in the gut and they rolled to the side without losing their grip on his hand. He reared back and tried to yank it away. They held on, digging their claws into his chest plating as they tried to rip it off. "Kill me? We all know you can't!"
Vortex shoved them both forward and Airshock's spinal strut hit the wall behind them. Finally they opened their mouth to cry out in pain and released his hand. He immediately grabbed their throat instead, pushing forward as he licked his own fangs, visor flashing.
"What about you?" Airshock hissed through grit dentae. Their optical display darted toward First Aid. "Pretty sure you're not allowed to kill anyone either."
"No, I could," he replied. He paused for a long moment before he tipped his gaze up. "But my boy toy is worth more than your life." He let go of their throat and pushed himself to his feet with a sharp grin, shaking the blood off his claws before he licked the inside of his palm.
"That's gross," Ghostbite said quietly from behind one of First Aid's shoulder pauldrons where he was hiding.
"You drink blood all the time," Whirl scoffed, "Why's it gross when he does it?"
"For Primus' sake!" Rodimus burst as he turned the corner at the end of the hall and stumbled to a halt. "What the fuck happened this time?"
"They started it," Vortex said immediately, yanking his hand out of his mouth to point a spit and energon covered claw at Airshock.
"Why do we have so many fucking ex-cons in the medibay," Rodimus mumbled. "I'm calling Mags. You guys can't keep doing this shit, we're running out of walls."
"Awww, come on!" Vortex whined.
"Hey, love the show and all," called Whirl, "But can someone go back to putting my arm back on now?"