Officer Chase Hunter frowned as he sat at his desk, shuffling through his papers. It had been a stressful day so far. There had been a blackout in the middle of the night and he'd woken up late, making him rush in order to get to work on time. Then a patrol rookie had spilt his coffee on uniform, forcing him to change into a completely unprofessional white T-Shirt because he couldn't go home now; he'd be completely late then and that wasn't acceptable. He was already irritated when he went to his office and found stacks of paper as high as his arm on his normal organized and neat desk. He was officially only an officer, but due to his intellect and refusal to be promoted his chief gave him cases and papers that should've gone to the detectives. Normally Chase would've protested this break in protocol, but then he was given his own office and he valued his peace and quiet more than his OCD need to enforce rules.
Turns out he also valued his OCD need to finish his work before he went home, so he was still at the precinct at seven o'clock. Well past when his shift ended. But he was almost done with his papers and could go home to Jazz and just forget today ever happened.
Prowl sighed as he read the paper in front of him before filling out a recommendation sheet for the detectives that went out and did the actual leg work. It was days like these that he just wanted to be a simple beat cop, but then the voice told him that he'd eventually get bored with sitting in a car all day, handing out tickets with the occasional call that required his help. Then another voice pointed out that with Jazz as his partner there was never a boring day.
A small smile touched his lips as he thought that. Ever since Jazz had moved in with him and their relationship got serious his life had taken a positive turn. More laughs and smiles and pleasant breaks in routine.
Chase was nudged out of his thoughts by the leaning tower of papers suddenly shifting. Seeing what was coming a mile away, Prowl jumped up, desperately trying to keep the papers on his desk. They fell over anyway, scattering across his entire small office. "Damn it," he muttered, thinking about how those were specifically organized in order of priority and dates and how he was going to have to go through all of them just to make sure they were in the right order once more. He got up from his chair and moved around his desk, dropping to a knee and shuffling the papers on the tiles to find the correct ones.
He had a decent stack going when somebody suddenly grabbed his rear and blanketed his back firmly. "Shouldn't taunt me with your ass, Prowler," a southern voice murmured in his ear, soothing his instinctive stiffening. "You know how much I love it."
"Jazz," Prowl greeted calmly even if he felt himself getting warmer at the position Jazz continued to hold on him. A blush even started to show on his cheeks and neck when his partner nuzzled the back of his neck and wrapped his arms around his waist, firmly pressing his groin to Prowl's backside. "It is nice to see you, but this is hardly the place."
Jazz hummed and licked the nape of his lover's neck, relishing in the fine shiver he got. "It's always the place, Prowler. Whenever I want you, wherever I want you, however I want you."
The burnet-slash-blond scowled over his shoulder before lifting a hand to untangle Jazz's grip on his waist. "I am not your possession, Jazz. Now kindly remove your person from myself. I have work to do." It was a bit hard to not growl at the Jamaican-French-Creole, but this whole situation was unprofessional as it was and he was keen on remaining aloof.
Jazz chuckled, but obeyed his boyfriend, leaning against the closed door to the office. Prowl glowered over his shoulder for a moment before going back to picking up his papers. It crossed Jazz's mind to help his boyfriend as an apology for ruffling his feathers, especially when he heard Prowl start muttering to himself, something he only does when he's at the end of his patience, but looking at the firm and toned ass hugged by the navy blue slacks ended that thought and brought up dozens of more. In fact, now that he thought about it, Jazz had never 'loved' Prowl in his own office before.
A devious smirk played across the Orleans-boy's lips as he subtly closed the blinds on the door's window and flicked the lock on the door. Now, to just convince Chase it was worth it.
Prowl sighed softly as he set the huge stack of paper back on his desk, patting the sides of the tower and scooting it away from the edge so it wasn't tempted to run away again. Satisfied, he dropped back into his chair and picked up the report he had been working on only to jump when a pair of hands dropped onto his shoulders. He'd forgotten all about Jazz being in the room in his focus to clean up and get back to work.
"You work too hard sometimes, Prowl," the Jamaican crooned as he dug his fingers in to massage the tense muscles. "Hard day?"
Chase resisted the fingers coaxing him to relax before slumping his shoulders and letting his boyfriend's amazing hands do their magic. He closed his eyes as the hands seemed to zero in right on the kinks that had been bothering him lately. "Yes," he admitted with a grunt. "There have been a few unwelcome events today."
"I'm sorry, babe," Jazz murmured honestly as he moved his hands to Prowl's strong neck. His sensitive neck. The saboteur felt a thrill when he felt his lover completely melt, moaning softly, as he traced the muscle cords and scratched lightly. Jazz knew he was on the right track when the pen rolled from Prowl's limp fingers. After a minute, when Jazz felt that there were no more knots in Chase's neck, he gently pushed his boyfriend to lean forward and rest his upper chest on his desk.
"Jazz," Prowl protested when he felt his boyfriend pull his white shirt out of his pants and hike it up his back.
The Jamaican-French-Creole gently pushed Prowl back down when he made to sit up right again. "The door's locked, Prowler. No one is going to come in. Just let me help you relax, hmm?" He began to gently run his clipped nails up and down the smooth expanse of pale skin.
The fact that Jazz thought ahead to lock the door flipped an alarm in Prowl's head, but the back scratch he was getting was sending pleasurable tingles and shivers that quieted the alarm. Jazz hummed as he used a nail to scratch the outline of Prowl's wing-tattoo, which was simply six grey, tapered rectangles with Cybertronian symbols on them. The moan Chase gave at the touch sent a jolt straight to Jazz's groin and the sight of his normally cool and collected boyfriend arching up slightly for more of the touch sent another jolt. All of the Autobots had incredibly sensitive backs, especially the tattoos that reveal themselves once their wings emerged. Touching the tattoo was like faintly touching the wings hidden away.
Prowl brought his arms up and pillowed his cheek as he let Jazz continue to scratch and trace his tattoo. Absently, he thought about how Jazz always responded when his much larger tattoo was stimulated. Any back scratches Jazz got always ended with Jazz pouncing on Prowl to finish what he started.
The burnet-slash-blond jolted when he felt something warm and wet suddenly flick over his tattoo. His body arched on its own when another slow kiss was pressed to his back before he got a hold of himself. "Jazz, I told you—" His scolding was cut off when the chair was suddenly kicked out from under him and Jazz came up behind him, blanketing his back once more and bending him over his desk. A flash of heat shot up his spine when he felt the firm bulge being pressed to his rear, but he pushed it away and started pushing himself up, anger making the task easier. "Jazz, I will not be humiliated," he hissed before growling when his lover took his wrists in hand and pressed flat against the wooden surface, taking away his leverage. "I'm not a toy to use whenever you have an urge!"
Jazz rumbled, sending the vibrations from his chest into Prowl's sensitive back. It wasn't quite a growl or a laugh, but a response that said he was slightly offended but amused. "You're not a toy to me, Prowler," he argued gently, pressing more kisses to the neck in front of him. "And I won't let you be humiliated."
"Then let. Me. Go."
Jazz hummed and restrained his boyfriend gently. Prowl wasn't really fighting to be free, but firmly letting Jazz know he wanted to be free. Jazz was telling him that he wasn't inclined to let go anytime soon. "I don't think so," he purred. "See, Prowl, I'm not doing this because I can't control myself. I'm doing this so you know you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen."
Prowl spluttered, glaring over his shoulder. "That's ridic—"
"Uh-uh," Jazz cut in, nipping Prowl's neck to silence him. He did so with a muffled yelp and growl. "I need to show you how much you mean to me. I need to know that I've done everything in my power to make sure you know that you're cherished and loved. And if that means having steamy sex in your office where anyone could walk in and see how much I love you then so be it."
Chase huffed, refusing to believe that he was feeling happiness at the rain of compliments and promises. "You said you locked the door," he grumbled.
The Jamaican-French-Creole smirked when he didn't get a word of actual protest and grinds his erection against his lover's rear, enjoying the slight shiver of arousal. "I did, but that doesn't mean someone doesn't have a key. Wouldn't that be interesting? Someone comes in and sees you bent over your desk in your office." Prowl shivers and bites his lip when he feels Jazz's lips ghost over his ear, voice dropping an octave. Prowl had fallen in love with Jazz's voice when they had first met and it did things to him when Jazz purposely lowered his voice and started talking dirty. He could almost feel Jazz smirking as a hand presses to Prowl's chest and begins a slow journey down.
"Do you know what they'd see, Prowl?" Jazz whispered in a husky voice, enjoying the feel of Chase's abs and muscles twitching and flexing under his hand as he moved towards the front of Prowl's slacks. "They'd see you completely undone, sweating, flushed, and panting like a bitch in heat, begging me for more. But I won't give you more. No. I'll go slow, thrusting in and hitting that sweet spot with such slowness and care that you'll be fighting for more, but loving that I was taking my time to show how much you mean to me." Jazz smirked as he began to thrust his erection into the cleft of Prowl's ass, going slow like he said and enjoying the way Prowl twitched and gasped. "And I'll be watching as you come undone because of what I'm doing to you and anyone watching would know I'm taking such good care of you. And they would be jealous because the ass I'm spreading apart and taking is mine and they know it. The ass that I'm going to come in is never going to be theirs, but, by Primus, do they wish they could have a piece of it."
Prowl was biting his fist, eyes flicking fearfully to the door as Jazz spoke. He didn't think he'd ever get so thrilled or excited about the idea of someone seeing Jazz take him, but Jazz was certainly showing him the excitement of possibly being caught. Not to mention Jazz was always hot and a turn-on when he got possessive like this. Maybe after this Prowl would tell his lover that his possessive talk and actions made him feel safe and taken care of, but that thought is quickly forgotten when Jazz's hand suddenly grabs him through his slacks. Prowl shouts before biting his tongue and burying his face in his arms, afraid someone might've heard him.
Jazz chuckled as his lover's reaction as he feels out how hard he is. "I think I like the idea of someone walking in on us," he purred, his other hand coming up to Prowl's slacks and undoing the button with a flick, freeing Prowl's erection in a matter of second. The moan he gets in response makes him thrust strongly Chase's rear and hurrying to free himself. Jazz has to consciously remind himself that he's going to go slow and draw this out as he looked down at his mostly naked boyfriend, who is already flushed and beginning to pant. "I want them to see who you belong to," Jazz murmurs as he straightens up slowly, pressing kisses all the way down Prowl's spine. "I want them to see who owns you." His tongue laves special attention to the tattoo as a hand opens a desk drawer and fumbles for the small tube he knew was there.
Prowl hisses when one of Jazz's hands trails gently up and down his shaft and he thrusts in an effort to get more contact. He growls when Jazz's hand flutters away. "You won't have anyone to own if you keep teasing me like this," he threatens gruffly, turning to glare over his shoulder before gasping when two lubricated fingers press into his entrance without preamble. His knees actually give out when Jazz brushes against his prostate on his first try and Prowl is sure he would've fallen down if it wasn't for the arm wrapped around his waist.
Jazz tsks Prowl as he strains to get the reach needed to touch Prowl's sweet spot again, circling a finger around the smooth bump and relishing in Prowl's muffled moans and gasps. "I'm always going to own you, Prowl," he corrects with a smirk as he just rests one finger against the prostate, making Prowl quiver deliciously. "Nothing you do or say is going to change that. The second you let me have you was the second you signed away all rights to this ass. It's mine. You're mine. Do you understand?"
Prowl bit his lip savagely against a yell when three fingers were suddenly pushed in. This time, his prostate was left alone as the three fingers thrust and scissored quickly, stretching him. "Yes," he squeaked, pushing back on the pleasurable fingers even as he whimpered when his shaft continued to get no attention whatsoever.
"Do you now?" Prowl whimpered when the fingers were suddenly ripped from him only to gasp and stiffen when a large, hot shaft was pressed right between his cheeks, flush to his mildly-stretched and wet entrance. All Prowl could think about was that thick length just pressing into him like it had in times before, bringing him pleasure he'd never felt before.
"Yes, I do!" he cried out softly, voice cracking when the arm around his waist moved and a hand wrapped around his shaft. He grunted and thrust impulsively, trying to decide if he wanted to go forward into the hand or back into the shaft. Jazz made the decision for him when he suddenly removed all touch from his rear even if his hand began to squeeze and move up and down. Wondering what his crafty lover was up to now, he started to squirm and lift, trying to get a look behind him. He wasn't getting much of anywhere in his pleasure –fogged and slightly delirious state, but the anxiety and confusion was assuaged when he felt something thick and rounded and wet press against his entrance.
Prowl instantly went boneless, pillowing his cheek back on his arms and pressing back on the invading member, wanting nothing more than for Jazz to get on with this.
Jazz's laugh was strained as he grabbed his lover's thin hips for leverage and slowly pushed past the barely-stretched-enough first ring of muscle. "That eager, are we?" he murmured in a husky voice when he felt Prowl pushing back. Go slow, go slow, the Jamaican-French-Creole chanted to himself even as his eyes fluttered at the delicious heat and pressure that continued to envelop and take him in, squeezing and fluttering in welcome. "Easy, Prowler," he whispered when Prowl arched, feeling Jazz hit his prostate once more. Jazz bent over his lover once more, stopping his progress. He was only a few inches in, but he began to withdraw, licking and kissing Prowl's back to soothe the man when he started to whimper and plead for him to come back. Those quickly turned into groans and pants when Jazz pressed back in again, pushing deeper. It took a few more times of drawing out and pushing back in, but Jazz was finally balls deep in the man he loved.
"Jazz, Jazz, Jazz, Jazz," Prowl chanted, flexing and trying to relax around the invader that made him burn. All thoughts were gone except for the ones that planned on how to get Jazz to get moving and to give him more pleasure. One of Prowl's arms came up and twisted, wrapping a hand around the back of Jazz's head in an effort to have something to anchor him as well as convey his need for more. "Plus," (More) Chase drew out, switching to French in the hopes of enticing Jazz, who was always happy to hear Prowl speak French.
Jazz purred and grinded his hips. "Ralentissez, Prowl. Rappelez-vous? Je vais aller aussi lent, vous allez perdre votre esprit." (Slow, Prowl. Remember? I'm going to go so slow you're going to lose your mind.) He pulled out, trembling slightly with the effort, before pushing back in, angling himself to hit that sweet spot that made Prowl cry out so beautifully even if he was muffling it.
Prowl's head was spinning as he bit his hand, panting around his grip as Jazz started a luxurious rolling rhythm, running one hand intimately up and down his chest and hips while the other one hugged and squeezed his shaft in tune with the thrusting going on inside him. It was so incredible, being assaulted with all these sensation. His eyes fluttered closed, stiffening and flexing when Jazz yet again hit his sweet spot, sending lightning all over his body. He wasn't going to last long if Jazz kept doing this. He could already feel that liquid heat and pressure in his lower abdomen getting closer to the breaking point.
Jazz breathed evenly if a little rapidly against Prowl's shoulders, his hips moved and danced on their own. This was slow and relaxed despite the location and the need to reach that one peak and Jazz loved it. Loved feeling Prowl twitch and move under him in the epitome of sensuality and sex appeal. Nothing would ever take away the lust Jazz always felt when he saw his lover. Prowl was living and moving sex and Jazz would always want to show him just how sexy and handsome he was. A devious idea crossed his mind as he stared at Prowl's tattoo for a long moment. He moved, pressing his lips to the center of the tattoo and humming. The reaction was instantaneous. Prowl spasmed and clenched hard, crying out as pre-cum splashed across Jazz's hand.
"J-Jazz, we can't!" he protested, wiggling and fighting to get his back away from Jazz's questing lips and tongue. "Someone will see. Stop!"
"No one is going to see this," Jazz soothed, following the tattoo relentlessly, struggling to keep his hips and hands at the same pace even if Prowl's squirming nearly sent him over the edge. He needed Prowl to do this or Jazz would be the first to orgasm and that wasn't allowed right now. This was for Prowl and Prowl would climax first and that was that. "Just let them out. Let me have them."
Prowl groaned and strained, panting even harder from fighting to not listen to Jazz. "Nngh. Jazz!" His body was flooded with energy and strength and fire as he lost his battle for control.
When simple and beautiful panes of metal appeared over Prowl's back, Jazz wasted no time in taking the hand roaming Prowl's chest and setting it to work next to the mouth he latched on to nibble and lick the flicking and quivering metal wings.
Prowl nearly blacked out as he renewed his bite on his hand, head swimming with the barrage of fire and pleasure and ecstasy Jazz was bombarding him with. It was too much for him. Prowl's scream was muffled as he was finally pushed over the edge.
Jazz groaned when he heard and felt his lover climax. Just feeling him shake under him was enough to tip him over, flooding Prowl with his cum.
It was a good long minute before either of them came back to their senses. Prowl moaned softly as he shook his flared and strained wings, molting them, and hissing as Jazz slowly began to pull out of him before collapsing onto his desk, legs barely managing to keep him up right. Jazz appeared to be in no better shape as he stayed pressed to Prowl's back, shivering and trembling.
After a short amount of time, Jazz turned his head and pressed his lips to the back of Prowl's neck. "Je t'aime, Prowl. Beaucoup." (I love you, Prowl. So much.).
Prowl smiled a bit, not bothering to move or open his eyes even if he knew they were going to have to somehow clean up and be presentable soon so they could go home. "I know, Jazz," he murmured, thinking about Jazz's reasons for having to take him right here in his office. "I love you too."