A/N: As mentioned in my profile, I will be posting "The Best Is Yet to Come" during the month of February. Enjoy!
I do not own Transformers.
I do not own the lyrics to "The Best Is Yet To Come." The words are by Carolyn Leigh. Please tell me if I need to provide additional credits. (I was inspired by the version sung by Frank Sinatra.)
Universe: G1
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, mentions Optimus and Ratchet
Warnings: Intimacy
Title: The Best Is Yet To Come - Part 1/7
Summary: Jazz forces Prowl to confront his deepest fear and then he teaches Prowl a lesson the tactician will never forget!
Prowl was in the rec room with a data pad and a cube of energon. He had been trying to take Optimus Prime's advice to interact more with the crew. Optimus had pointed out that as second-in-command, Prowl had a responsibility to know the crew outside of meetings and briefings. Prowl forced himself to go to the rec room daily. He made himself stay long enough to drink his energon slowly. He even occasionally talked to some of the crew. He always brought work with him. He decided that if he had to spend time in the rec room he would at least make the time productive and get some work done. Usually, he finished his energon and social niceties long before the work on his data pad. This was due to the music that Jazz often selected which made it difficult, if not impossible, to concentrate.
Today was different. Jazz had chosen Earth music which was, for Jazz, tame. Prowl did a quick check and determined the music was from what was known as the "big band" era. Prowl decided that he liked the music but was left with the problem of sitting in his chair with half a cube of energon and no work to occupy himself. He watched the other mechs in the room without realizing that one very skilled saboteur was watching Prowl. The saboteur noted that the tactician was enjoying himself. It wasn't readily apparent but the fact that Prowl had set down the data pad and was actually paying attention to his surrounding spoke volumes. Making his decision, he stood up at the end of the song that was currently playing and announced to the assembled mechs that he was going to sing a ballad. He selected the music and soft piano notes began to play. Standing at the end of the room, Jazz began to sing:
Out of the tree of life I just picked me a plum.
You came along and everything's start'in to hum.
Still it's a real good bet the best is yet to come.
Slowly Jazz began to work his way across the room continuing to sing:
The best is yet to come and, babe, won't it be fine?
You think you've seen the sun but you ain't seen it shine.
Jazz stopped in front of Prowl but was not facing him. Instead, Jazz scanned the room and made optic contact with various mechs, began to sway his hips to the music, and offered sweet smiles in accordance with the lyrics he crooned:
Wait till the warm up's under way,
Wait till our lips have met,
Wait till you see that sunshine day,
You ain't seen nothing yet!
The best is yet to come and, babe, won't it be fine?
The best is yet to come, come the day you're mine.
Jazz slowly turned to face Prowl and noted with satisfaction that the tactician's optics had been fixed on Jazz's hips despite his masterful effort at hiding it. Only a flick of Prowl's doorwings gave himself away. Jazz dropped his voice to a more sultry tone:
Come the day you're mine,
I'm gonna teach you to fly.
We've only tasted the wine,
We're gonna drain the cup dry.
Jazz smirked as Prowl's face remained impassive but his right doorwing twitched. That twitch only encouraged Jazz to move in until his face was close to Prowl's:
Wait till your charms are ripe for these arms to surround.
You think you've flow before, but you ain't left the ground.
Wait till you're locked in my embrace, wait till I draw you near.
Wait till you see that sunshine place, ain't nothin' like it here!
Jazz backed away and turned. As he did, he placed his servos on his hips to draw Prowl's attention to them and to draw Prowl's optics down to his aft swaying seductively. Jazz walked back to the end of the room and finished:
The best is yet to come and, babe, won't it be fine?
The best is yet to come, come the day you're mine.
Applause and wolf whistles filled the room and Jazz took a bow. When he looked up to where Prowl had been sitting, he saw that the mech he had serenaded was gone. Jazz didn't show his discouragement but gave a brilliant smile and gestured for the music to continue. He mingled with some of the mechs for a while before discretely slipping out of the rec room and made his way to the senior staff offices. He knew Prowl would have returned to his office to immerse himself in more work. Without knocking, he slipped into Prowl's office and locked the door. Prowl looked up expressionlessly. "Is there something you need, Jazz?" he asked politely.
Jazz walked across the room and around the desk to where Prowl sat. He leaned against the desk and answered, "Yeah, there is."
Prowl leaned back in his chair and waited.
Jazz looked into Prowl's optics and decided to lay everything on the line. "Why do ya turn me away?"
Prowl had not been expecting such a direct approach. The tactician had computed a high probability that Jazz would dance around this topic until Prowl became exasperated. As a result, Prowl stumbled for words. "I'm not the most attractive mech, Jazz. Surely there are others you would rather…" he trailed off, not finishing the thought.
Jazz didn't buy that for an instant. He thought Prowl was incredibly gorgeous and those doorwings added to the appeal with the way they betrayed his emotions even when his face showed nothing. Even now the right panel twitched and Jazz had to suppress the desire to reach over and touch it.
"No, Prowler. Try again," Jazz responded with a slight edge to his voice.
"Prowl. My designation is Prowl. You wouldn't want me, Jazz. We are completely different. You are carefree and I am not," Prowl said levelly.
Well, at least now they were getting somewhere even if Jazz didn't accept the reason. "Prowler, I'm carefree here at the base 'cause I can't be when I'm out there. We're more alike than ya think. I have learned to release my tensions when I'm safe here. Ya need to learn how to step away once in a while from the burdens of being SIC."
Now Prowl had something with which to work. With calm logic he pointed out, "As our leader, Optimus does not have that luxury either. You can behave differently because the others do not see you when you are working."
Jazz smiled easily, "I wasn't talking about Optimus but since ya brought up the subject, he does have ways of relieving the tensions of command."
Prowl looked at him curiously, "I have never seen Optimus behave in any other way than he does here."
Jazz smirked, "Hadn't ya ever noticed times when Optimus seems happier when he returns from certain missions?" He placed particular emphasis on the last word.
Prowl had. "Oh," he responded when he understood Jazz's meaning. He didn't dare ask Jazz for details.
Jazz softened his voice a bit. "Prowler, no one expects ya to work all the time and never have any fun. Even Optimus will interact with the crew and socialize. Besides, ya let me decide what I want."
"Unlike Optimus and yourself, Jazz, I have nowhere else to go. My place is here at the base and I have no way to relieve these tensions, as you call them." Prowl leveled his gaze at Jazz with the retort.
"Prowler, ya got plenty of ways to relieve tensions." He began to count them out on his servo. "First, ya got weapons practice. Second, ya got yer close combat practice. Third, yer office is soundproof."
Prowl arched an optic ridge at Jazz. "What does my office being soundproof have to do with this?" All of the senior staff offices were soundproof to enable discussions about operations to remain confidential.
Jazz leered at the tactician, "No one will hear ya when ya scream my name, Prowler!"
Prowl's optics widened and he stood up and turned away from Jazz. "I think you had better leave."
Jazz got angry. "Why Prowler? What are ya afraid of?"
Prowl's doorwings sagged. Jazz wanted to caress them and comfort the tactician. He stayed where he was though and waited. Finally, a quiet voice said, "I'm afraid of losing control, Jazz. When I lose control of a tactical situation, lives are lost. I'm afraid… afraid that if I allow myself to ever lose control in any way that it will compromise my ability to work through the times that do require all the control I can summon."
Finally, Jazz had gotten Prowl to face the real issue. Jazz thought about this but not in the way Prowl would have guessed. Prowl was obsessed with being in control. Jazz decided that Prowl was the type of mech that would dominate in the berth – not the Jazz would mind – he would love to be flat on his back underneath Prowl with those magnificent doorwings spread out over both of them…
Jazz stared at Prowl's doorwings and knew what he had to do.
Jazz quickly stepped up to Prowl and gently grasped the top edge of his left doorwing with his left servo and the bottom edge of this right doorwing with his right servo, effectively rooting Prowl to the spot. Prowl could not bend or twist out of Jazz's grip. Jazz slowly started to stroke both doorwings causing Prowl to shudder.
"Jazz, please let go of me. Ahhh, doorwings are extremely sensitive, you don't, ahhh, know what you're doing."
Jazz pressed against Prowl's back and said in a low voice, "I know exactly what I'm doing, Prowler. We're going to work on yer control issue right now."
Jazz continued to slowly move his servos along Prowl's doorwings with long smooth sensual motions. Prowl's doorwings flared out and when Jazz had stretched his arms as far as he could he gently pinched the edges of the panels. The sensation caused Prowl to gasp he fell forward slightly catching himself with his servos on the wall behind his desk.
Jazz admired the form spread before him. He had to resist the urge to spin Prowl around and push him to his desk and frag him until he was screaming Jazz's name. Jazz resisted because this was all about Prowl and teaching the tactician that he could lose his self-control when he was in the saboteur's trustworthy care. Jazz intended this to be a lesson Prowl would never forget. Jazz was in no hurry and slowly moved his servos along the panels paying careful attention to Prowl's reactions. His training as a saboteur gave him the patience he needed for this.
Prowl was lost in a world of intense sensations. As much as his processor tried to hold on to some semblance of control he quickly lost the battle under Jazz's skilled servos. Soon he was moaning softly and off-lined his optics to focus solely on the touches on his doorwings. Jazz found the areas which were more sensitive that others and concentrated on those. He ran a servo along a panel joint and Prowl fell to his knees with a howl of pleasure. Jazz followed him down onto his own knees managing to keep his servos on the panels the entire time. Jazz continued to run his servo along the panel joint and watched Prowl.
Jazz thought about how much he would enjoy polishing those smooth surfaces until they gleamed. Praxians had inherent difficulties polishing their own doorwings unless they had help. That help usually came from a lover's tender care. Jazz desperately wanted to make that claim. From Prowl's reaction so far, he knew that polishing those doorwings would be very pleasurable indeed, for both of them.
Prowl began to moan in rhythm to the strokes along his panels. Jazz carefully rubbed a digit along a seam at a panel joint and was rewarded with Prowl revving his engine hard.
"Jaaaaazzzzzz?" the tactician moaned.
"Yeah, Prowler?" Jazz murmured. "Tell me what ya want, babe."
Prowl moaned again. "Don't stop," he groaned out.
Jazz had no intention of stopping. He wanted to draw this out as long as possible. Jazz had never seen such a beautiful sight as Prowl before him on his knees with his servos pressed against the wall. His doorwings trembled under his touch. The sounds Prowl made were the sweetest music Jazz had ever heard.
Jazz gently slid a digit under the armor at the seam that was causing Prowl such intense pleasure. He carefully searched for the sensitive wires and nodes. He found one such node at the base of his left doorwing at the center of his back. When Jazz traced his digit over it Prowl threw back his helm, arched his back, and screamed Jazz's name. Jazz resisted the urge to kiss Prowl. This was all about Prowl. Jazz wanted the mech to know it. The sight of Prowl arching into his caresses was stunning. Jazz captured an image of Prowl and saved it to his private personal files so he could cherish this moment forever.
"Do ya like that, Prowler? Do ya want me to continue?"
"Yes, Jazz, yes," Prowl panted.
"Primus, yer so beautiful, Prowler," Jazz moaned at him.
All of Prowl's cooling fans were running fast and Jazz could hear them struggling to cool Prowl's overheated frame. Jazz winced when he heard one fan suddenly whine. He heard the distinctive sound of the bearing seizing and the blades shattering against the inside of their housing. Prowl did not notice. Jazz smirked when he thought about how Prowl would try to explain that to Ratchet. Unless a mech was injured in combat, fan damage only occurred when a mech was engaged in particularly strenuous interfacing. Jazz was pleased that the stimulation to Prowl's doorwings were causing such an intense response.
Jazz knew Prowl was close to overload so he firmly rubbed on the particularly sensitive node he found and hung on to Prowl's left doorwing. Prowl overloaded with such force that his doorwings shuddered violently. Jazz kept the pressure on the node until the peak of the overload had passed and then slowly relieved the pressure but kept his servos on Prowl's panels. Prowl moaned out Jazz's name again and pawed at the wall with his right servo before offlining and collapsing in Jazz's arms.
Prowl's systems slowly came online again. He noticed that he was sitting on the floor with Jazz's arms wrapped around him. He smiled weakly at Jazz once his optics returned online. "Thank you," was all he could manage to say.
Jazz leaned over and tenderly kissed Prowl. "Don't thank me yet," he whispered. "The best is yet to come." He turned, looked at Prowl's desk and smiled wickedly.