"..." Speaking
:...: comm. link
'...'bonded speech
'...' thinking
Astrosecond- 2.5 earth Seconds
Klik- 150 earth seconds/ 2.5 earth Minutes
Orn- 150 earth minutes/ 2.5 earth Hours
Joor- 60 earth hours/2.5 earth Days
Metacycle- 17.5 earth days/2.5 earth Weeks
Vorn- 10 earth weeks/2.5 earth months
Stellercycle-30 earth months/2.5 years
Breem-slang for a moment/minute.
Night Cycle: star down to star up
Day Cycle: Star up to star down
Authors Note: Okay here we go guys, first things first. THIS IS SMUT. You have been warned.
As always, let's all bow to the awesomeness that is Brighter than the Sun, Sunny, who did the beta work on this story. Sunny, you rock my socks! Thank you!
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing I say!
()()()
It was a quiet night in Iacon as Jazz leaned back in a chair in Prowl's quarters. His hands were resting behind his helm and the chair was tilted back dangerously on two legs. Despite the back legs tilted at such an angle, the saboteur managed to keep the chair perfectly balanced without his pedes touching the ground.
The TIC grinned at the empty room, his visor glowing softly in the dark. He had the window blinds open so he was able to see the stars twinkle romantically in the dark inky sky. Everything was perfect, two cubes of warm mid-grade sat on the small table and glow lamps that released a soft blue light sat on either side of the energon cubes. The blue light was cast softly around the room, giving a peaceful feeling to the night. Soft music that was distinct to Iacon played in the background, gentle enough that it would not be over powering.
The Decepticons had been quiet for awhile, and this had all the officers on high alert. Jazz, however, used this time to think about things, to think about life. About Prowl. It had started for Jazz the cycle he came to the conclusion that he loved the tactician. Not just loved, but worshiped the mech and the ground he walked on. He would do anything for his SIC, if he said jump, Jazz would have asked how high. If Prowl said come, Jazz would have been there faster than Blurr. If Prowl said surrender, Jazz would have handed himself over to Megatron with a merry smile and a bow.
If Prowl said kill, Jazz would have asked who and how.
There was nothing that Jazz wouldn't do for his Prowler. However, it was the cycle Jazz realized that he always looked to Prowl first and his Prime second that he knew that he was hopelessly lost over the tactician. That strong trust had not been formed overnight however, it had taken stellercycles to form and after the incident in Tarn, Jazz knew he belonged to Prowl for the rest of his life, and Prowl to him.
That realisation had scared the saboteur, he wasn't afraid to admit it. He would even go so far as to say terrified even, Special Ops just didn't trust like that. They couldn't afford to be that close to another, have that vulnerability hanging over their heads. It was fear that caused Jazz to back away from Prowl emotionally, wanting to figure out his own issues before approaching his beautiful mate.
It hadn't taken Jazz long to figure it out; he loved Prowl with his whole spark. Loved him more than any other lover he had had prior, and he wanted to spend the rest of his days, however short or long, together. To spend his remaining time with Prowl.
That was how Jazz ended up in Prowls quarters, his usually perfectly clean room decorated to incite romance, waiting for his love (maybe obsession) to return back from his long shift. The saboteur smirked to himself, everything was set. Everything was perfect. He was ready to bare his soul to his mate, share all the good and the bad and take that final step. He just had to convince Prowl he was ready.
()()()
Prowl trudged down the empty halls of the Iacon base; his door wings were hanging low with physical and emotional exhaustion. Jazz had been acting supremely odd for the past few metacycles, and Prowl had no idea as to why.
Jazz had started to pull away from Prowl with no warning, no indication as to why that he could see. Just one cycle Jazz was all over the tactician, never leaving his side. The next, he was gone. The saboteur didn't even come to recharge with Prowl in his quarters like he had been doing since their relationship had basically started.
The complete turnaround in Jazz's personality had Prowl worried. His battle computer going over scenario after scenario as to why Jazz would be acting like this. Out of a thousand scenarios he ran, nine hundred and forty had ended with Jazz leaving him, moving on to a more exciting, more experienced lover.
Prowl's spark twisted painfully in his casing at that thought, he loved his lithe, at times crazy, saboteur. But if his time with Jazz was going to come to an end, Prowl wouldn't be a weepy ex-mate and beg the TIC to stay. He would take it with pride, wings held high and simply let Jazz go. Deep in his spark, however, Prowl knew that if Jazz left him, he would never love another like as he had the saboteur again.
In order to stop himself from obsessing over what he was going to do about Jazz, Prowl had thrown everything he had into his work, even more so than usual. Most night cycles he could be found pouring over every line in every report that came across his desk with more of an obsessive flare than usual. It had most of the higher ups worried, but much to Prowl's upset Jazz had said nothing about his sudden time absorption.
A small, sad sigh made its way past Prowl's soft grey lip plates when the tactician walked passed Jazz's door. The saboteur was no doubt already deep in recharge, not worrying about whether or not their relationship was falling apart.
Coming to his own door, Prowl threw another gaze down the long hall to Jazz's quarters and wished he could gather the courage to go knock on his mate's door. Sighing, Prowl palmed the door to his own quarters opened and walked in.
Coming into his room, the SIC froze and fought hard against a processor crash at what he was seeing. It made no sense; the blinds to his large windows were wide open and light from Cyberton's stary skies and brilliant moons filtered gently into the room. On the single table in the room were two steaming cubes of energon with a glow lamp placed at either end of the table and soft music seemed to float in the air.
The rest of his room was empty, save for a single chair that was pulled out; Prowl always made sure that all his chairs were pushed in prior to leaving for the cycle. Closing the door behind him, Prowl called out to the darkness, "Is anyone there?"
Melting from the shadows, Jazz suddenly appeared at Prowl's side, his visor dimly lit. The look on his faceplates was unreadable to Prowl, who could more often than not read Jazz like an open book. Oh. So Jazz had come to end it all, Prowl thought bitterly to himself as he snapped his door wings up high behind him.
Keeping his own faceplates cold and aloof, Prowl tightened his hold on the data pads he was going to be working on for the night. Jazz suddenly grinned at Prowl, and slowly walked in his whimsical way to stand close the Praxian.
The saboteur's servo brushed past Prowl's black forearm to gently pluck the data pads from his servo. Pressing his black servo into Prowl's white one, Jazz's grin became a full blown smile, "Ah want ta talk ta ya Prowler. Ah have fer awhile now."
Panic suddenly gript the normally cool tactician and he had a very good idea of what Jazz wanted to discus. Keeping his faceplates as impassive as possible, despite his rolling tanks, Prowl allowed Jazz to lead him to the small table he had set up.
The saboteur pulled the nearest seat out for Prowl and guided the SIC to sit down. Pressing his servo's to the back of the chair, Jazz gently pushed Prowl into the table in the same manner a lover would. Confusion hit Prowl next; if Jazz was here to break up with him he was certainly being overly cruel about the whole thing. Which lead Prowl to believe that maybe something else was going on as the Praxian did not believe that Jazz was that malicious to fellow Autobots.
Jazz gracefully moved to the other side of the table to sit across from his mate and gently handed the SIC one of the cubes of energon. Keeping his grin plastered on his faceplates, Jazz beamed at Prowl. Unsure of what was going on Prowl leaned back a little wearily and sipped on his energon.
Seeing his mate's lack of response to all his hard work, Jazz's smile faltered just a little. The corners of his lip plates fell just a little before shooting back up to keep his grin where it was. Taking a long draught to buy just a little more time, Prowl finally looked at Jazz, "What is it that you want to speak about?"
Looking down at his own energon, Jazz hesitated which made Prowl's tanks restrict again. Looking back up to Prowl, Jazz took a deep intake of air, "Ah've been thinking about this fer a long time Prowler. And the more Ah think about it, the more Ah think it's the right thing."
Prowl's tanks churned with his worry, so he took another long drink from his cube as he prepared himself for what Jazz was about to say, "Ah think we should bond."
That... had not been what Prowl thought that Jazz would be saying, and he was caught with such a surprise that Prowl actually lurched forward, spitting his energon all over the table and partly onto Jazz. The saboteur jumped back in shock, his bright smile wiped from his face at Prowl's reaction.
Panic and embarrassment filled Jazz then, perhaps Prowl didn't want to be with him in that way. The saboteur knew that he had been a little distant from Prowl for the past while, but he didn't think that would warrant a reaction quite like that.
As Prowl continued coughing to clear his intakes, Jazz stood and moved to stand beside his mate, gently rubbing his back in soothing circles and a thread of unease settled deeply in Jazz's tanks. Perhaps Prowl didn't want to bond with him, it was very dangerous after all. The Decepticons could and would use it against them, and Jazz being head of the Special Ops, would certainly be in constant danger. Not to mention that Prowl would always be a target because he was the Autobot second in command.
Suddenly feeling very self-conscious and very stupid, Jazz slowly stood and moved back from Prowl once he was sure that his mate was no longer chocking. Slowly moving back from Prowl as his intakes heaved, Jazz cleared his own throat, "Sorry Prowl. Ah...Ah didn't think a request like that would have been..." Jazz paused, unsure what he was trying to say, "Never mind Prowler. Ah'll let ya get on with the rest of yer night."
The saboteur turned to flee then, but was surprised when Prowl's servo latched onto his wrist. Prowl tugged hard on Jazz, dragging the saboteur back down to his faceplates and pressed his lip plates hard into Jazz's own.
Jazz froze in surprise when Prowl kissed him, his one servo still clamped hard on Jazz's wrist while the other came up to cup the saboteur's cheek. Moving his white servo from Jazz's writs, Prowl gently ghosted his servo over Jazz's chest plates, his clever digits slipping under Jazz's silver bumper.
The saboteur gasped at Prowl's actions, allowing the tactician to slip his glossa into Jazz's warm mouth. Moaning into the kiss, Jazz offlined his optics as he moved his own glossa against Prowl's, fighting for dominance.
Prowl was the first to pull away, his fans spinning hard and panting in a desperate attempt to cool his systems. Jazz onlined his optics and stared into Prowl's, his mate mirroring the lust he now felt. "Ah take it yer not completely against the idea?"
Prowl snorted very quietly, "I am not completely against it. You just surprised me."
The tactician's digits were now tracing around Jazz's head lights, making the saboteur shutter. "Ah surprised ya?"
"I had thought that you were here to break our relationship off." Prowl responded candidly.
Jazz sputtered as Prowl pushed his chair away from the table and pulled his mate into his lap so that the saboteur straddled him. He brushed his digits against the side of his helm, coming to rest at his audio horn.
"Break up wit'ch ya?" Jazz asked with indignation coloring his tone, the lust he was just feeling dissolving away.
"Mhmm." Was Prowl's response as he lazily began nuzzling at Jazz's throat.
Shuttering from his mate's attention, Jazz forced himself to ask, "Why?"
Pulling away from Jazz's throat to look at his mate, "You had been distant for the past few metacycles and I worried that you had grown board with me."
Clicking the restraints of his visor so that he could remove it, Jazz gently set it on the table. Turning his aqua optics back to Prowl, Jazz sighed, "Board? Naw. Ah was just trying ta figure out the best way ta approach ya 'bout this."
A comfortable silence settled between the pair of Autobots as their servos gently roamed over each other's frame. Jazz cleared his throat and spoke first, "What do ya think? About bondin'?"
Prowl considered, his white digit's running along his mate's heated plating, "I do not know Jazz. It is so dangerous. If the Decepticons ever found out...they could hurt you by hurting me."
Jazz sighed, pressing his forehelm to Prowls, "Ah know, but how much are we goin' ta allow 'em ta take from us? How much do we have ta sacrifice for the cause? Why can't we just get what we want, just be a little selfish this one time?"
Prowl sighed as he offlined his optics and shifted his servos to squeeze Jazz's aft, "I want to Jazz. I really do want to bond with you. But the Autobots need us to be at our best. They deserve us to be at our best."
"We're at our best when we're tagether." Jazz countered as he twined his arms around Prowl's neck.
"The danger is still very prominent Jazz. I do not think I could bear seeing you hurt if the Decepticons ever caught you." Prowl said quietly, his voice as monotone as ever. He reached up to touch Jazz's face, "It would break my spark."
"Ah'm goin' ta be caught Prowler. Ah go in ta Decepticon territory far to much not ta. But when Ah'm caught, Ah'd rather have ya telling me that everything will be okay in my head than be there alone." Jazz countered.
Prowl frowned and onlined his deep blue optics to stare into Jazz's aqua ones. He began running scenarios through his battle computer to see if what Jazz said held any truth and if his presence in the saboteur's spark would keep him alive long enough for a rescue.
"Prime and Ironhide are both bonded and they're both better off fer it." Jazz said as Prowl's battle computer continued running its scenarios.
"All the more reason why we should not. If either are targets on an assassination, we lose four of our top commanders and not just two. If you and I bond, we could lose six."
Jazz sighed as he moved his servos to Prowl's hips, tweaking at the sensitive wires in the tacticians hips and making his lover shutter. "But look at how well in tune they are. Nothing can touch Chromia or Ironhide when they fight together. They're perfect and dangerous."
Even Prowl could not deny that fact; when the more violent bonded couple was on the battle field, they instinctively knew where their mate was. They fought in perfect unison in much the same way the twins could, so Jazz went on, "Imagine what we could do tageather. We could work in perfect unison, just know what the other is thinking, what the other is feeling."
Prowl sighed, still uncertain, there was so much that could go wrong in bonding with Jazz. But Jazz knew he was close to getting Prowl to see the light, so the saboteur continued to push, "Besides, Ah want ta spend the rest o' my life wit' ya. If that's only a few cycles or a few hundred stellercycles, Ah want ta feel ya. Every part of ya. And let's be honest with each other, if ya die Ah won't be far behind."
Prowl frowned at Jazz's statement, but the saboteur ignored his mates reaction, "Ya know it's true. If ya were ta deactivate, bonded or not, Ah'll be lost without ya."
"The Autobots will need you if I do happen to deactivate." Prowl said, his logic center trying to wrap around Jazz's statement.
"What about you? How do ya think ya'll react if Ah deactivate?" Jazz asked, her black servo gently massaging Prowl's hip joint.
"I would continue my work. The Autobots would need me to more than ever." Prowl answered, seeing the logic in that statement.
Jazz, however, saw past his mates logic, "Naw. Ya'd throw yer self inta ya work 'till ya went inta statis lock."
Prowl frowned at his mate, "I would not."
"Just 'cause Ah haven't been around the past couple o' metacycles doesn't mean Ah haven't been watch'n ya. Ah ignored ya fer ah while and ya practically worked yer self ta deactivation."
Prowl scowled at Jazz's triumphant look, "I will give you that point Jazz."
Lowering his faceplates to nuzzle Prowl's neck, Jazz sighed contently, "We would be perfect."
"We would." Prowl agreed, his servos moving slowly up his mates back plates. The saboteur's servos slowly worked its way up to Prowl's proud door wing, gently ghosting over the sensitive appendage.
Another silence settled over the pair as Jazz began to gently mouth and nip at his lover's neck. Prowl fought a moan as he thought about bonding. He knew he loved Jazz, that he in essence belonged to Jazz as much as the hyperactive saboteur belonged to him.
Swallowing hard, fighting the waves of pleasure that Jazz was creating, Prowl asked, "I take it you did not react well when you came to this conclusion?"
Jazz snorted and looked up from his lover's neck, "Ah ignored ya fer metacycles. What do ya think?"
Prowl sighed and looked down at Jazz's chest, and thought about the spark that lay beneath the thick armour resting there. A spark that would always belong to Prowl, the tactician knew, and was his for the taking. That thought humbled the Praxian and brought a soft smile to his lip plates.
"You do realize that we would be sharing the darkest part of our sparks to each other. Are you sure you're prepared for that?"
Jazz snorted and nuzzled his mates chevron, "Ah think Ah have much darker memories than you Prowler. Are ya sure ya can handle it?"
Prowl sighed, ignoring the nickname that Jazz insisted on using, "This is not a competition Jazz. I just want you to be prepared for...what you might see and understand that those memories need to be kept a secret."
Jazz frowned at his mate, "Prowler, Ah'm special ops, secrets are kinda what Ah work in. Anything that ya decide is a secret, is a secret ta meh as well."
Prowl cycled air through his intakes as he considered again. For every reason that Prowl could come up that stated that they should not bond, Jazz had a counter as to why they should. It was dangerous, it was stupid and it went against Prowl's logic center, but he loved his mate.
"Alright Jazz. We'll bond."
The bright smile that passed over the saboteurs lip plates made Prowl's spark sing and soothed any remaining doubts. In a movement that was too quick for the tactician to track, Jazz leapt from his mates lap and pulled his lover into an embrace. Lifting Prowl up and setting his long legs on either side of his hips, Jazz supported his black and white mate by griping his aft, giving it a firm squeeze.
Grinning like a maniac, Jazz carried Prowl through the dimly lit quarters to his berth room. Prowl pressed a hesitant kiss to the saboteur's lip plates, softly moving them against Jazz's as he wound his arms around the other mech's neck. Grinning into the kiss, Jazz responded by nipping at Prowl's lower lip. A mix of sharp pain and pleasure radiated from the point where Jazz's dental plate met the soft lip plate.
Prowl gasped at Jazz's attentions, allowing the other black and white's glossa to dart into his open mouth, exploring the soft cavity. A soft moan rose from Prowl's throat as his delicate digits worked into the seams along Jazz's shoulders and neck.
Crossing the room quickly, Jazz came to the berth, spinning around to collapse backwards onto the soft mesh that covered the metal; their lips never leaving each other. The moment Prowl no longer had to use his servos to help maintain balance in Jazz's arms, his white servos began running down the bright blue racing stripe.
Glossas fought for dominance as servos worked into any transformation seam that was within reach. Jazz's cleaver digits left hot tingling, trails up the inside of Prowl's thighs, causing said mech to moan into his mate.
The Praxian moved his helm slowly across the other's jaw line, leaving small kisses in his wake, moving painfully slow to the tense neck cables of Jazz's throat. The Autobot TIC moved his helm aside, surrendering his throat.
Black servo's slowly teased their way up Prowl's proud door wings, pinching and rubbing along the sensor laden metal as the tactician nipped at the saboteur's throat. Resting an arm over Jazz's shoulder, Prowl's other servo slowly glossed its way down the other mech's frame; dragging his digits down the blue racing stripe on Jazz's chest and down his dark grey belly and over his black pelvic structure.
Jazz gasped, his hips arching up into Prowls touch as he pinched the other mech's door wing causing the usually quiet SIC to release a soft, huffing moan as he shuttered above his prone mate. Prowl's white servo left burning trails of sizzling heat as it slowly worked its way down to Jazz's hips to his thighs.
Parting his thighs, Jazz gasped, his body bucking against his mate's frame, his own servos leaving Prowl's door wings in favour of clinging to the other's shoulders. Pulling Prowl down as close as their bulky frames would allow, Jazz gently sunk his denta into the sensitive cables of the tactician throat, moaning into his mate's frame. Jazz's gentle nips and suckles caused the normally quiet SIC to gasp and buck back against him.
Velvety soft touches ghosted over Jazz's interface panel, Prowl silently asking permission. Jazz grinned against his mate's throat, more than happy to surrender himself to the only one he trusted. His already hot interface panel slid open easily, baring his spike and valve. His pearl white spike shot forward, already pressurised from Prowl's gentle touches, stabbing into the cool air, causing the vocal saboteur to gasp and buck again.
Prowl let out a soft chuckle, something that was a bit of a rarity, as the tactician nuzzled into Jazz's audio horn, "You're always so sensitive." The SIC said gently, but sadly emotionlessly, unable to voice his lust in his tone.
Jazz, however, always loved that smooth, even tenor of his mate's voice, his hips jerking as Prowl's digits caressed the pressurized spike. The white thumb brushed over the sensitive tip causing the saboteur to gasp, twitch, and wriggle under Prowl's frame.
As Jazz's valve cover slid open with a gentle sic, he gave a growling moan to his mate, "P-Prowler, stop teasin'!" his voice was shaky, almost a whine.
The corners of the SIC's lip plates twitched as he brushed the backs of his digits over Jazz's hot spike, leaving a tingling trail of sweet warmth as Prowl made a slow trail to Jazz's waiting valve.
A want settled hard and low in Jazz's belly. He keened out in his want, as Prowl, evil, evil, Prowl began to gently circle the rim of the already wet valve with digits far to gentle in their caresses.
"Prowler!" Jazz gasped in a keen, his hips bucking in the tacticians servos.
"So sensitive." Prowl said again, pressing his lips in a hot kiss to the saboteurs audio horn, letting his glossa dart out in a burning lick up from the base of the horn. Jazz moaned, thrashing in Prowl's hold as the tactician continued to circle the saboteur's sensor laden valve.
Suddenly, without warning, Prowl thrust two digits into his mate's soft, wanting body, his valve cycling open to except the sudden intrusion. Black hips bucked up with a gasp that was quickly followed by a deep mewling moan as warm pleasure spread throughout his body.
Jazz dug his black digits into his mates armour, dragging them down his lovers back plates as Prowl's digits worked their way in and out of the saboteur's wanting valve. The smaller black and white let out a soft whimper as he thrust his black hips up into Prowl's servos.
Smirking to himself, Prowl shifted around so that he was kneeling over Jazz, using his free servo to pin the other's hips down. Picking up the pace, Prowl knew that Jazz liked it fast and hard and that was exactly what he gave to his little mate. He set a brutally fast pace, giving Jazz no cool down time.
Prowl pushed Jazz hard to his first overload, the deep want settling even lower in the Special Ops mech's belly. The charge built up hard and fast, practically throwing Jazz over the edge and into a hard overload. His body arched up and into Prowl's as he screamed the tactician's name as the overload crashed over him.
Smirking to himself, Prowl watched as Jazz collapsed, strutless, back onto the berth. Harsh, deep panting left the saboteur as he slowly circled back down from his high.
Slowly removing his digits from Jazz's wet, hyper sensitive valve, Prowl lifted his servo to his mouth and slowly licked his digits clean. Jazz's wide blue optics focused on his mates mouth, causing the smaller back and white to begin moaning breathlessly beneath Prowl once more.
"Awe babe, come on. Stop teasing meh." Jazz whined weakly, his arm feeling like jelly as he reached for his mate.
Prowl allowed himself to be dragged down into a searing kiss as he sent the command to his interface panel to retract, his own pearly white spike already pressurized and stand proud in the cool night air. Not taking his lips from the other's, the tactician gently lined himself up with Jazz's waiting valve.
Slowly circling his mate's valve with the tip of his spike, Prowl dragged another breathless moan from Jazz, the black and white mech moaning his name, "Stop teasin'!"
Prowl smirked down at his needy mate, and with a firm, yet gentle, roll of his hips, the tactician pressed into Jazz's wanting body, trapping the TIC's spike between their bodies. A long, low moan, was pulled from the saboteur, his dark servos coming up to clutch at Prowl's shoulders tightly.
"Pro-owl!" Jazz moaned as the tactician began to gently thrust, slowly working up to a harder pace, giving Jazz the time to adjust to the thicker appendage.
The charge built up within Jazz's body again as Prowl began to thrust faster, quickly bringing his mate to another overload. Prowl himself could feel the charge building within him, felt the hard pool of want spread throughout his frame, making it harder to keep the pace steady.
The Autobot tactician gasped softly, gently saying Jazz's name in the saboteur's audio, causing the TIC to gasp, arching up into Prowl's body. Overload crashed through Jazz first, already sensitive to his mate's touches, and he dragged Prowl down with him.
The other black and white mech, happily followed, waves of pleasure ripping through the both of them as the overload hit them both. Crying out each other's names, both Prowl and Jazz collapsed back down, exhausted and sated.
Jazz lay flat against the berth panting as his fans working hard to cool his overheated frame. He wrapped his arms gently around Prowl's neck. Said tactician had collapsed onto Jazz's heavy frame, his face plates tucked into the others neck cables, feeling weak and satisfied, yet not ready to recharge. Not by a long shot.
Prowl managed to find the strength to come up to his elbows, forcing a little groan from Jazz. Their bodies still joined, the tactician looked into his mates blue optics smiling softly, which pleasantly surprised Jazz. It was then that Prowl sent the command code to open his chest plates.
Still panting and grinning like a fool, Jazz did the same, his chest plates split open, revealing the shining ball of light that was his spark. Prowl's own spark revealed itself as well, shining its brilliant glow across his lover illuminating his grinning face, and causing Prowl's own smile to widen. It was something that the SIC didn't do often, but it was moments like this that Jazz lived for. It was that smile that made the other black and white mech's spark go all a flutter and assured his decision to bond with Prowl.
"Love ya Prowler." Jazz managed to say, still breathless.
"I love you too Jazz," Prowl said softly, then allowed himself to sink down into Jazz's waiting spark. The saboteur's spark reached out toward its other half, tendrils of light reaching out. Prowl's spark reached back, his own tendrils pulling at Jazz's, their sparks reaching for the other, eager to be whole.
With a soft cry, the SIC and TIC fell into each other, allowing themselves to sink into the other as memories and feelings swam by.
Familiar feelings and memories floated by the two mechs as their essence became one to the point where it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended.
Prowl saw Jazz's happy memories, all familiar to him; his creators had been poor, yet for one of his creation day celebrations they had saved enough credits to purchase a gaming consul that every youngling had wanted. The tactician could feel his mates pure joy over the silly game, yet had spent the entire joor curled with his creators and telling them how much he loved them.
Prowl also saw how hard Jazz had worked to pay his own way to the Academy, knowing his creators could never afford it. How proud the young Jazz had been when he saved enough creds to go, how happy his creators had been that he had done it himself, how he pulled himself from the gutters of Tyger Pax.
The Second in Command could see through Jazz's optics as he stood at the gates of the Academy, traveling all the way to Iacon on his own to make something of himself. Could feel the pure happiness the saboteur felt, the joy that Jazz felt when he met Blaster there and had made his first friend.
'So proud of you,' Prowl thought then, knowing that Jazz could hear him, could feel his own pride at clawing his way from the gutters of Cyberton. Prowl felt Jazz press up against his consciousness and could feel the jubilance in the saboteur.
Prowl could feel Jazz's lust when he fell into the berth with different mechs and femmes, earning himself a 'play mech' reputation. He could feel how those mechs meant nothing to him, that he was just having fun, experiencing life to its fullest and never letting a moment of joy slip past him.
Jazz could see all of Prowl's happy memories too; could see him growing up as Praxian nobility, always having finer things and tutors to give him the best education his creators could buy. Could see how Prowl grew up around other Praxis nobility, yet was always so alone.
The Third in Command could see how Prowl's shrewd intelligence and dry humor had alienated him from the other younglings, causing the small Prowl to turn into himself having to be his own friend. It wasn't until Prowl himself had gone to the Iacon Academy and met Smokescreen that he finally had a friend other than himself.
Jazz bore witness to Prowl's first few, awkward interfacings. His none-winged partners unsure and unwilling to learn how to properly play with his door wings, how unsatisfying the first few attempts had been for the Praxian.
'Ironic that we never met.' Jazz's gentle though came through the memory.
'Different social circles.' Prowl pushed back, sending a bolt of pleasure with his thoughts, causing Jazz to shutter both physically and mentally.
They sank deeper into the bond, watching the first time they had met each other under the new Prime and how they strongly disliked each other. How they were vastly different from each other, and how they could barely stand being in the same room as the other.
They watched the assassination attempt on Prowl's life, where the tactician had taken a blast to the face and it had been Jazz that had saved his life. Had held his servo and spoke in a low gentle voice and all but begged the Autobot SIC to stay with him. Jazz had pleaded uselessly with Prowl not to die, a compassion had come from deep within the saboteur that surprised them both, but one that Prowl had been grateful for at the time.
They could see from both Jazz and Prowl's point of view at the same time as Prowl woke joors later, barley alive, and could feel the drugged happiness from the tactician when he saw Jazz's gleaming visor over him. Could feel Jazz's servo in his own and the bright smile that greeted the damaged SIC.
They had been joined first figuratively, then literally at the hip after that. Whatever animosity between them fell away to the gratefulness that Prowl was alive. It had been the beginning of their friendship.
They both watched the first time they had interfaced, the pleasure and joy astounding them both as they pushed each other to overload.
They fell deeper into the connection, swimming past the happy memories, falling into the sadness and hate that lay within their sparks.
Prowl saw a young Jazz weeping bitterly over the deaths of his creators on the day of his graduation, killed, ripped apart, in a Decepticon attack.
Jazz once again bore witness to the destruction of Praxis, and felt the burning hatred and sorrow from Prowl as he collapsed in the safety of his quarters, away from the destruction.
They descend deeper into the connection, neither fighting nor putting up too many blocks to hide the worse memories from the other. Jazz did, for a moment, until Prowl gently assured him that everything would be okay. Hesitantly, Jazz dropped a block on a particular nasty memory that Prowl had only ever caught glimpses of.
Prowl watched, from Jazz's point of view, as the saboteur was tossed onto his back and skidded across the energon slicked floor. It took Prowl a moment to realize that it was Jazz's energon that covered the ground.
A tall, dark green mech with eight blue optics came into view. He stood above Jazz, his arms crossed over his barrel chest, his helm shaking from side to side. An electrical prod held loosely in his servo as he tutted.
Prowl recognized the green mech as Jazz's mentor, the one who had taught Jazz everything about being a saboteur. Jazz had at one point looked at this mech with great admiration and even love, but something had happened, something had driven a wedge between them.
The green mech came to stand beside Jazz's damaged chassis, and Prowl could hear Jazz's panting, heaving vents. Could feel his blinding pain.
A heavy black pede slammed down onto Jazz's chest, causing the metal of his chest to bow and buckle. Prowl could feel Jazz's pain, could feel the gasp leave his vents in a rush. Could feel energon being coughed up from Jazz's intakes, could taste it on this glossa.
"I know you hurt Jazz," the deep brass of the mech above him, 'But this will make you stronger.'
The big mech above him slowly removed his pede from Jazz's chest, as the young saboteur wheezed. His mentor turned on the prod, blue electricity arching between the two points, 'This will prepare you for what you will face out there.'
The prod came close to Jazz's abdomen, where the plating had been peeled away. Prowl could feel Jazz try to shove the memory away, thinking that the other didn't need to feel what was about to come. The tactician however, wanted to feel it, wanted to know what Jazz had gone through.
The saboteur hesitated, but let the memory play. Prowl grit his denta as the prod was pressed into his unprotected abdomen sending wave after wave of pain in and through Jazz's body. His frame jerked and twitched as the electricity coerced through his body, eventually blacking out.
Prowl physically felt Jazz cling a little harder to his white shoulders as the memory played out. The tactician allowed it, holding his mate tighter, pulling his own memory for Jazz to see. Prowl tried to find a happy one to sooth the hurt the last memory carried, but that was difficult for the black and white mech.
Most of the happy memories that Prowl had had started after the war, after meeting the slightly crazed, overly hyperactive Autobot TIC that was currently nestled in his arms. Even then, Jazz had already seen most of the happy memories that Prowl had to offer.
Well, all but one. One that was most precious to Prowl, yet had never come up in their interfacing sessions.
Prowl let the memory play, gently nudging Jazz into the thought, and suddenly Jazz had the odd feeling of being very, very small. He was being held by someone, with his tiny body pressed into the chest of the body that held him, and it took him a moment to realise that it was Prowl's carrier.
Prowl felt Jazz relax, pulling harder into the bond, pulling Prowl's spark further into his own as the old Praxian nursery rhyme was hummed in his audio. Jazz could feel Prowl's carrier gently rock him, soothing away the hurt from Jazz's last memory.
The saboteur felt Prowl gently pull him out of the memory, further into their selves, down into the darkest recesses of their sparks, down to where the darkest of memories lurked. With the lullaby still playing gently in their heads, Jazz hesitated again.
Below them, a dark pool of memory swirled, where the worst of the worst lay hidden. It was a pool of the unknown and possible rejection.
Above them the shining light of happiness and acceptance, a safe place.
Prowl could feel Jazz's hesitation, his constant need to be reassured that this was what Prowl wanted too.
Without asking, the SIC gently pulled Jazz down to the pool, there sparks winding closer together, making it harder to tell where one ended and the other began.
They clung together as they slipped into the pool of darkness, twining together and the last thing Prowl could say before the memory began to play was "I'll go first...'
It was one of Prowl's first assignments as the Autobots tactician, and Jazz was hit by his tank suddenly churning with guilt and anger.
The tactician brushed his conscious against Jazz's to let him know he was still there, as the memory Prowl sighed and leaned over a data pad.
They looked through Prowl's optics, reading the data with the same heavy spark that Prowl had.
...estimated losses: 75%. Success rate: 89%. Estimated death toll: 750,420.
Prowl looked at the numbers again and sighed. They needed that particular base as it had a main energon line in Cyberton, and without it many more would starve. His logic center told him that a 75% loss in numbers in that region and an estimate of 750,420 casualties was an acceptable loss if it meant getting to that energon line to feed the rest of the army.
Without that line, overall casualties would increase by a 43%, due to starvation. What was the deaths of 750,420 mechs in place of millions?
Subconsciously Jazz shuttered at the coldness, yet did not pull away from Prowl as the memory played out.
The memory Prowl sighed again, looking at the numbers. His battle computer could find no other way, and his logical processor agreed. There was no other way.
But...
That was still 750,420 lives that could possibly be lost. Their chances of success were so high, nearly 90%, but that was still so many mechs that would be lost.
Jazz felt Prowl's internal battle, felt the struggle as he fought to balance cold, calculating logic with what his spark was telling him. Eventually logic, as it always did with Prowl, won out. It couldn't be helped, they were at war here and death would happen.
With a heavy spark, Prowl pushed aside his emotions and sighed the mission request. Once again, the good of the few was sacrificed for the good of the many...
Jazz and Prowl tumbled out of Prowl's worst memory, and for a moment the tactician braced himself for rejection and anger, like so many time before with others. Instead, Jazz pulled Prowl in closer, sending as much comfort as he could, accepting what he saw as a necessity of war.
'We ended up losing just over 702,000 mechs that day. We won the base and the energon line. It saved millions because of it and the mission was deemed a success.' Prowl though miserably, mourning the loss of those who had perished in the battle.
'Ya need ta let it go Prowler. If ya continue to mourn them, regret their sacrifice then it was all for nothing'. Then they died for nothin'. At least this way, their deaths meant somethin'.'
'I know. It's not easy, however.'
Jazz again brushed against Prowl, 'It never is.'
Before anymore could be said, they were sucked down into Jazz's mind, his own worst memory playing out, baring his soul for Prowl's inspection. Truly, the saboteur worried if he'd measure up...
The first thing Prowl noted that he was cold and wet as Jazz's memory began to play. Jazz was silently climbing from the murky waters below, using the anchoring chain for a ladder as he climbed higher and higher up to the side of the ship.
The saboteur, now fully trained, was furious and Prowl could feel his mates hot rage at whatever he was hunting. He tossed his sleek, powerful frame over the side of the ship, his pedes coming down hard on the deck.
Prowl walked with him, like a shadow through the halls of the ship. Jazz's intakes were slow and deep as he crept along the wall, coming ever closer to his target. In a blur of memory, Prowl was suddenly at the door Jazz hunted for, his servos slick with energon.
Prowl wondered what or who he had killed to get there, but the tactician knew that wasn't as important as who was behind the door. He could feel the saboteurs rage turn inward, turning hard and cold as he steeled himself for what was about to come.
Hacking the lock, Jazz pushed the door open slowly. Stalking inside, he closed the door silently behind him.
The room was warm on Jazz's cold plating, the heat turned up far too high to be comfortable. The bot he was sent to kill had his back to him, his massive head down.
Jazz didn't bother to hide his presence, he wanted his prey to know he was there, know who the Autobots had sent to end him.
The big bot slowly straightened up and sighed gently, 'I knew that out of all my protégés, it would be you they would send.' There was a pause then, the bigger bots helm tilting to the side, 'You were always the best Jazz. Always the most eager to please. I never understood one thing though.'
Jazz refused to raise to the bait, he kept silent as the bigger mech turned around and his mentors bitter face met his solemn one. His mentor went on, 'You always did whatever was the most fun to you. Gave you the most pleasure, yet all you've ever wanted was to be loved Jazz.'
Jazz hissed at the dark green mech, 'Ya don't know anything.'
Another memory began to play, and it took Prowl a moment to realize it was part of this one, a memory within a memory. Dark servos ran gently down Jazz's white plating, a dark green body over his pressed down and pleasure licked up Jazz's body, causing the smaller mech to gasp and arch into the touch.
The memory Jazz, shock his helm viciously and he hissed again at his old mentor. The mostly green mech smirked at his student, a nasty cruel grin, 'I don't? Hardly Jazz. I know far more than you think, but would you like to know something, Jazz?'
When Jazz remained silent his mentor continued, 'No one will ever love you Jazz. You're far too cold, too selfish to ever have someone love you. No one, but me will ever accept you for what you are.'
The massive green mech stood and slowly stalked over to the smaller mech, and Prowl felt a flash of his own fear for his mate, not sure where this was about to go. Jazz retreated back into himself, not wanting to watch yet again, having replayed this particular memory again and again.
Memory Jazz, held his ground as his mentor stalked up to him, coming chest to chest with the black and white. Prowl could feel his hard panting as he looked up to his old mentor, 'Ya betrayed the Autobots. Killed all the others, tried very hard ta kill meh.'
His words were hard and bitter, his anger flashing back hot as he snarled at the bigger mech. Chuckling, a massive black servo came to cup the saboteur's chin, 'I did. But you survived. You were the strongest, always the strongest. Come with me Jazz, come to the Decepticons. Your skills there will be paid tenfold, your pleasure will always be at your fingertips in ways the Autobots will never allow.'
For a moment, Jazz believed him. Believed that no one would ever love him again and the smaller mech leaned his helm into the familiar touch. Just as a thick black thumb brushed over a cheek structure of Jazz's face, flashes of dead mechs flew behind his hard stare; Jazz saw the dead, mutilated corpses of his team mates, his friends, the very mechs he had gone through training with.
With a snarl, Jazz suddenly lunged at the bigger mech. In a flash of emotion and color that even Prowl couldn't keep up with, Jazz killed his mentor. Kill was too tame a word, Prowl though, slaughter was a little closer to what actually happened.
Prowl suspected that the memory file was corrupted because of the strong, hard emotions that Jazz felt and that the blurs of color was what Jazz saw when he remembered this.
When Jazz was finally able to see properly again, thus allowing Prowl to see, Jazz was sobbing brokenly over his mentor's body and he was elbows deep in the greying chassis. Prowl couldn't see what Jazz had done, but there were pieces of him everywhere.
His vents hitching, Jazz managed to mutterer 'I hate you.' But Prowl wasn't sure if he believed that.
Suddenly they were tumbling again, out of the memories, their life forces slammed into a wall of light, one they couldn't yet cross. For a moment they just hung there, suspended between what was and what could be. They clung to each other, just feeling out the other, looking for love and acceptance.
'I love you Jazz.' Prowl told him, pulling his life force ever closer, accepting what he had seen. Taking it all in as a part of his mate, knowing he had killed and would kill again with cold efficiency. Knowing he would destroy any threat to the Autobot army, even if that threat was close to him.
'I love you too Prowler.' Jazz said back, knowing it was the truth. The TIC had always known, deep down that Prowl had to make difficult decisions, decisions that would end the lives of the mechs beneath him, but always made with the best intentions of the greater Autobot population.
It didn't make it any easier to send so many to their deaths, knowing that they only had a small chance of survival. In the end, war was a cold numbers game and it was one that Prowl was determined to win.
Yet, Jazz didn't care. He accepted Prowl for all he was, even the coldness he forced upon himself in order to keep them all safe.
They broke through the barrier of light, tumbling into warm pleasure and tingling happiness. Their physical bodies became too hot, fans kicking on and ragged pants left the mechs in harsh breaths as their sparks dragged the other closer.
Their sparks became one and they no longer could tell where one began and the other ended. They had never been so deep in the other, in such a perfect union. It sent them barrelling down to another overload as bolts of pleasure shot through their sparks and down their frames.
They screamed out in a blissful union as they hit their peak and tumbled down the other side, the overload shook through them. A small part of their spark was left with their mate, taking a piece of the other with them.
Exhausted, they both allowed the darkness to overtake them.
()()()
Jazz woke many orns later to the gentle touches of Prowl's digits stroking his face plates. Groaning, the saboteur managed to pry his optics open and grinned when he saw Prowl's blue optics shinning back at him.
"Why is it," Jazz started, his voice hoarse from the scream, "that ya always wake up first?"
Prowl chuckled at Jazz's confusion, "I am used to having my processor shut down on me. My systems can recover much quicker now because of it."
Jazz moved, or at least tried to, and ended up flopping down into his mates frame, curling into the other black and white, "Did it work?"
Jazz suddenly felt a flash of amusement that didn't belong to him, and it caused him to bold up right in excitement as he felt a gentle pull on his spark, "It did Jazz."
A silly, stupid happy grin spread across Jazz's face and he flung himself back down onto Prowl with a whoop of joy. Prowl laughed quietly as he felt Jazz's joyat the bonding.
Jazz laughed with him. He stopped for a moment, coming up to his elbows, "Why can't Ah hear ya yet?"
"It will take time for the ability to communicate to form. It will come however, and will happen faster if we practice." Prowl responded, looping his arms around his mate, no, his bonded's shoulders. It just made Jazz laugh again, dipping his helm down for a small, chaste kiss.
Prowl paused again, tilting his helm back before asking "Did you truly believe that no one would love you again?"
Jazz gave a small shrug, "Ah know that a lot of mechs were only with meh for my skills in the berth. Ah was okay with it, ah mean. Ah'm special ops. Ya know what it's like, and Ah usually only hung around other special ops mechs, so they knew what they were getting' inta."
He paused again, but continued when he felt Prowl's gentle prod of encouragement, "But it was different with...him. He. Ah don't know, made meh feel special. When he betrayed the Autobots and killed mah team. Ah, um. Sort of went off the deep end and made sure that Ah was the one to get him. When Ah killed him, after Ah killed him. It took time for meh to come back around again. Took all sorts of assignments from Sentinel, suicidal ones. Ones I shouldn't have come back from."
"I am aware of that Jazz. I was just unsure of what pushed you to take on those assignments. Although, would you be willing to listen to a theory?"
Jazz could feel his mates love and assurance come across the bond as he traced invisible glyphs on Prowls chest, he gave Prowl a small nod to continue, "If you had never been trained by Marque," Jazz actually flinched at the green mechs designation, "You would have never survived what you have. If you hadn't hunted him down and began taking on Sentinel's suicide missions, you would never have drawn Optimus' optic. If you had never drawn Optimus' optics, you'd have never become TIC and we would have never met."
Jazz looked up, looking slightly shocked at his bonded, "So what. You think it was fate?"
Prowl snorted, "Of course not, I don't believe in such nonsense. What I'm saying that you should not be so hard on yourself. If you had not gone through your trials, you would not have ended up where you are today. "
"So, fate?"
Prowl sighed and he could feel his mates burst of amusement as Jazz laughed, thrilled that he could sense Jazz's emotion.
Cupping the TIC's face, Prowl managed a very small smile, "I love you."
Jazz grinned back, mirroring his feelings for Prowl through their brand new bond, "Love you too."
Gently stroking light grey face plates, Prowl suddenly snorted. Jazz felt a flair of amusement that wasn't his, causing him to cant his helm in confusion, "What?"
"Who is going to tell Optimus?" Prowl asked lightly.
Jazz laughed a deep rumbling chuckle that came right from his engine, "Ah don't know babe, but I wanna be there."
Prowl pulled Jazz back down into a soft, chaste kiss. Feeling way too good to care about what the others would think of their choice. Curling next his mate, Jazz yawned slipping back into recharge, "Go back inta recharge Prowler. We'll deal with it in the morning."
Snuggling down with Jazz, Prowl sent his own feelings of agreement along the bonds, and for the first time in stellercycles both felt unrestrained joy, love and acceptance. Both knowing that came the rising of the star they orbited, life would be very different for them, and they wouldn't have it any other way.
End.
()()()
AN: So what did you guys think? I will eventually do a second chapter when the smut muse hits me again with Twins x Ratchet. Until next time.