From 'One shots and drabbles', I've just finally gotten round to compiling all of the related stories together. Sorry for the delay!

Being the social mech he was, Jazz was starting to suffer slightly. He'd been confined to his quarters under Ratchets orders, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to evade his wrench – even with full mobility he couldn't – so he stayed in there.

On his own.

Bored out of his mind.

Now, being the thoughtful and caring bondmate he was, Prowl had decided to work from his quarters. However this meant that instead of Ratchet force-feeding Jazz the medical grade he needed to fight the virus, he had to.

"Jazz, don't be stupid. Just drink it."

"Meh tanks hurt." He pulled a pathetic expression. Prowl held back a sigh.

"This'll make you feel better."

"Ah purged last time."

"That's because it went down the wrong way."

"It takes like slag."

"You are being childish."

"Ah'm not drinking it!"

"I will force it down your throat."

"You wouldn't."

"Want to bet?"

Jazz pouted before he dramatically rolled over on the berth to face the wall.

"Ah'm tired."

"You can sleep after you've had this."

"Ah'll choke again."

"No you won't, I promise."

Jazz turned over and looked at him. "Ya can't promise that."

"I just did."

Jazz was about to retort when he felt a sharp stab of pain go through his helm. Prowl felt the echo through the bond, and placed the cube aside.

"Migraine?" He asked, climbing up into the berth with his mate. Jazz gave him a shaky thumbs up, one hand rubbing the side of his helm. Prowl sat behind him, and gently encouraged him to lean against him.

"This could have been avoided if you'd drunk the medical grade."

"Ah'd rather this than a bitter taste for joors."

"You're not going to get better if you don't drink it."

Jazz lay his helm back on Prowls shoulder and gave him a blank look.

"Meh point still stands."

"As does mine."

"Yer impossible."

"You're even worse." Prowl replied, gently massaging an audial horn. They'd learned early on that massaging Jazz's audial horn helped greatly with the pain from the migraines.

Prowl started pressing kisses to Jazz's helm, slowly making his way down to his faceplates. While Jazz was distracted, he swiped the cube up from the side and removed the seal. He gently tilted Jazz's chin up, prompting him to offline his visor and open his mouth slightly, expecting to receive a kiss, however instead of Prowls lips he was met with the edge of a cold cube and the vile taste of medical grade.

Prowl tightened his hold on Jazz's jaw, keeping him in place as he poured the medical grade into his mouth. All Jazz could do was flail his legs and swallow, visor onlining in shock. When the cube was empty, Prowl took it away and finally pressed a kiss to Jazz's lips.

As soon as Prowl loosened his grip on Jazz's jaw, Jazz whipped himself away and glared at his bondmate.

"Wha' was that for? Ah nearly choked!"

"It's a good thing you didn't then, isn't it?"

"Jus' ya wait 'till yet ill Prowler, Ah will get ya fer that."

"I look forward to it."

Jazz huffed and rolled away from Prowl, back facing him. He sulkily pulled a thermal blanket over himself and offlined his visor.

"Goodnight, Jazz." Prowl said, kissing his helm as one would a child and getting off the berth, walking back to his desk to complete more reports. Jazz mumbled something in reply before falling into recharge.

Requested by MoonWallker!