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Moving in with the Constructicons was one of the best decisions Prowl had ever made. Yes, they were loud, and clingy, and dragged him away from his work, but they had their benefits.
They insisted on cuddling up together to recharge and Prowl was invited to join whenever he liked, which had gone from "never" to "once a month", and was now "almost daily." At the moment, he was curled up under one of Long Haul's arms, against his side, with Scavenger under his other arm so that he could reach over and connect their free servos. Both of them were out cold, along with Hook and Bonecrusher, though the former looked like he was moments from falling out of the berth entirely.
Mixmaster should have been right next to Prowl, but now there was an empty space where he wasn't.
The Berthroom door creaked as quiet (or as quiet as they could be) footsteps approached Prowl's side of the bed. He opened his optics blearily and turned to see Mixmaster with a cube.
He moved it towards prowl. he took it.
it was cement.
".....What exactly are you doing with that?"
Were the first words out of his mouth. Because it is the middle of the night, what could Mixmaster possibly be doing with a cube of cement. Was he sneaking about building something on his own, trying out a new concrete ratio for something (16% likelihood)? And why was he showing Prowl of all people? Primus knows he could not get out of this bed if he tried (and believe him, he'd run the numbers in the past. Just to know the data, really. There was a 31% chance he'd wake at least one of them, and a further 28% likelihood his subtle attempts at vacating would have him pulled back in and borderline buried.
It takes him a moment- longer than usual, in fact, to even get his systems working at all. Which should be concerning, but he'd deduced a short while ago that the systems seem to go idle easier with their company. But pulling themselves online as they are, not one solution to his mental gymnastics is coming back with any kind of actual likely answer.
Prowl makes an attempt to sit up a little, having to carefully shift his doorwings in the process. Scavenger grumbles something, lost in recharge as he acts like a borderline seatbelt to keep Prowl from moving any further. Alright, there's that 28% probability, right on cue. He decides to heed the numbers, stopping in place again to simply fix Mixmaster with a look, as he glances from the cube in his servo and back again a few times.
Mixmaster made a "go on" gesture to him, as if he was meant to drink it. He had the slightest little grin on his face, as if he was sharing something actually useful and edible. Prowl let out a deep, exhausted sigh.
"Mix, it's five in the morning."
"It's good," Mixmaster's smile was wider now, "I promise. Go on."
Prowl did his best to glare at him through the darkness. Scavenger made a quiet noise and began to pull him back against the berth, but Prowl resisted just long enough to reach and drop the cube onto the side table.
"It's too damn early for this." Prowl groaned, shuffling back, "Get back in here before you wake the rest of them."
"Aw come onnnn-"
Mixmaster had started to complain, trying to sound like he was going to go on some sort of selling rant that would be so good it would have Swindle reaching for his credits. But Prowl raised a servo to cut off anything more he may have had to say, dragging the constructicon quite unceremoniously back into the berth.
"I'm not going to try that right now. If it's as good as you say I am not awake enough to appreciate it."
He grumbled, and it sounded like he really did mean that- echoes of half awake static clinging to his voicebox.
".....We'll all try it tomorrow."
Mixmaster wanted to complain some more, really he did! But he was already being pulled back down to lay with the rest of them by one servo, than another. He feels something heavy lay over his leg and realises that Hook has decided to intertwine their legs to use him as a borderline counterweight to avoid falling out of the berth altogether.
Pushing Hook back onto Bonecrusher, Mixmaster climbed over the both of them to snuggle up against Longhaul, squishing Prowl between them. The Praxian let out a sigh, but there was no irritation left in it.
Mixmaster slid his own arm around Prowl, resting his servo against his stomach. He'd have curled up around him entirely if it didn't mean dislodging him from Long Haul and a Half-Awake Scavenger, who would protest being removed from his sleeping arrangements without good purpose.
In a few hours, once he was fully awake, Prowl would sneak out of berth and the cube of cement would mysteriously disappear, but for now, he was content to drift back into recharge.