Prompt: Less than lovers, more than friends
Jazz was in a predicament. And said predicament was recharging right next to him. Laying on his back, he turned his head to stare at his roo- scratch that, berth-mate. Because that was all they were. See, a few months ago, the Decepticons had the most brilliant idea to bomb the Ark. As a result the officer's quarters had been totally trashed. It had been a miracle that no one was using them at the moment.
As it was, Prowl, Jazz, and Optimus all had to find different arrangements. Ratchet's quarters were right in front of the med bay in case of an emergency while Ironhide had his quarters near the shooting range. Wheeljack had moved into quarters near his lab and Red Alert had moved in with Inferno some years ago.
They had another problem. All the quarters were taken and Prime was just too big to bunk in with anyone while their quarters were reconstructed. Poor Optimus had to content himself with sleeping in one of the private rooms in the med bay. That left Jazz and Prowl. Bluestreak, bless his spark, had offered to let them both use his quarters since he did not have a room mate at the moment. Smokescreen had been detained in Las Vegas for 'counting' and would not be released for several days if not weeks. Prowl had 'accidentally' forgotten to see to it that Smokescreen were released.
So here they were, Bluestreak in one berth and Jazz and Prowl in the other. It wasn't like Jazz and Prowl didn't get along. On the contrary, they were best friends. But for a while now, there had been some tension between them. And it was all Jazz's fault. Not that Prowl knew of course.
The saboteur took a moment to study the faceplates of his best friend. And oh how he loathed the word friend in this context, when it could be changed to something far far more. The tactician was sleeping sideways, doorwings accommodating themselves on his back to lean against the way. They would twitch once in a while like a cat's tail would twitch when a displeasing noise was made. He could here his systems running quietly, slowly.
He had seen Prowl recharging before. But now he actually had the change to look. The mask he wore every joor was gone and in its place was a more tranquil and peaceful expression. He looked beautiful.
Jazz sighed quietly turning his optics back to stare at the ceiling. For a while now, Jazz couldn't content himself with merely friendship from Prowl. The tactician had gone through so much before he met Jazz that it wasn't even funny. He hadn't known love nor friendship before and Jazz found himself being angry by the mere fact that no one before him had tried to get Prowl to leave his shell.
The saboteur had taught Prowl how to interact with the others on a friendly basis, had taught him how to accept his emotions. From there, their friendship was unavoidable, and with it came a sense of protection. Too many times had he been wrongfully accused, too many times had he been insulted without knowing, too many times had he been left to suffer alone in agony and pain while other were off having fun and laughing. Jazz had always been there for him and he planned on always being there. So why not be there as something more than just friends?
Sighing again he closed his optics.
"Because if he rejects me Ah might destroy everything we've worked for." Was his last thought before recharge claimed him.
Prowl woke for no reason. Still, he ran his sensors all over the room in search of a potential threat. Getting no data of such he squirmed to get into a more comfortable position. He regretted having turned down Jazz's offer to let him sleep on the outside of the berth. But he liked sleeping with his doorwings facing the wall. It was an unconscious decision to protect his doorwings from harm. Now though, the space was too small for them to be in a comfortable position. Sighing, he gave up as he did not want to wake up Jazz.
His friend was sleeping on his back, arms on his abdomen. It surprised the tactician that Jazz had not moved from his position as he clearly remembered that the saboteur, when recharging, could not hold still to save his spark.
He smiled at his friend. Jazz had appeared in his life seemly out of no where. He was headed for self destruction as steady as a lion on the prowl, and had no one to tell him contrary. Then Jazz came along and everything changed.
Jazz had been the first one to offer him something he never thought he'd receive. Companionship. While he was frustrated with the saboteur for disrupting his routine and making him refuel as well as assist several parties, he found he hand't had so much fun in almost all his existence. Jazz made him see another side of life.
Before, on the battle field, bots had protected him because he was Head of Tact and Second in Command. It was their duty. His capture could prove to be the end of the Autobots should he ever break under their torture.
When he was injured what mattered to most was if he could still come up with strategies like before. They didn't care if his doorwings had been torn off and he was in agonizing pain.
Whenever he found himself grieving for a lost city or their lost brothers, mechs would find comfort in each other while Prowl was left alone in the darkness of his office, filing reports.
When ever he entered the rec room all conversation stopped and suspicious optics followed him everywhere.
When there were social events, he would never be invited.
After Jazz came all that changed.
In the battle field, bots protected him with concern sometimes taking hits for him and always asking if he was alright at the end of the joor.
When he got injured the Autobots would return fire and hunt down the ones that caused the injury. When he was released from med bay many personally stopped by to see if he was okay and offer their help.
Now, when he walked into the rec room he was greeted by 'Hello Sir's, and warm smiles. Now, he could actually stay in the rec room if he wished and when he did, sometimes others would join him. It had been then and there that he discovered that Sideswipe was actually a good chess player.
Whenever they lost, mechs would comfort him. Small things like 'it wasn't your fault' or sinceres 'are you okay Sir?'.
When there were social events, he would be greeted not by an invitation, but by a group of mechs that literally dragged him to the party.
It had been after these changes that he discovered what true comradeship was, what friendship felt like and he had also started to feel fond of his crew.
It had been after he saw the changes that he realized just what his life had been before and sometimes sadness would consume him, sometimes accompanied with fear. What if Jazz had never appeared in his life? He would have been killed and no one would ever have cared.
But Jazz cared. Against all odds Jazz had been able to break his barriers and take a glimpse of the real him. A scared and confused mech. With Jazz's help, he had been able to live.
Though there was something that he still had not experienced, which most mechs seemed to hold dear. He wondered how love felt like. He wondered how it felt to have someone always by your side, holding you when you were sad, being with you no matter what. He wanted to feel that. He wanted to feel wanted by someone. He had never even thought of something like this before. But now, he wondered if someone would want him.
But the more he thought about this, the more he realized he was already getting this.
Jazz. He was always there for him, he always acknowledged him. Jazz had been his first friend. Protected him and guided him. He wondered, would Jazz love him?
It seemed almost impossible. Jazz was an attractive mech. Funny, intelligent and outgoing. Everything Prowl was not. Why would Jazz want to be bound to a mech that was his complete opposite?
He would never voice his thoughts to Jazz. Their friendship meant more to him than he cared to think about. He would not risk that under any circumstances.
Sighing, he powered down his optics.
"As long as he is by my side as my friend, I can live with the pain of never being more."
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