Basis: G1
(Solar Cycle = about (little more than) 1 Earth year, Orn = about 2 Earth weeks, Joor = about 1 Earth day, Cycle = about 1 Earth hour, Klik = about 1 Earth minute.)
This one literally just popped into my head while I was just practicing writing in cursive during school... don't know why. I thought it would be really interesting if they had last names - therefore, I made them up. And this story is basically just telling you my last name ideas. :)
Only one chapter... it's just a quickie.
The end is also mainly just a summary of what my next story will be about, but I probably won't start it for a while. Got a lot on my plate.
Oh, and, mind you, if you don't like slash or mech/mech relationships, don't read. Or if one calls the other "baby" or "honey", or serves soup for dinner. :D Oh and I also tend to make their everyday things similar to human everyday things, like dates and times and such.
Of course if you've read any of my other stories, I shouldn't have to warn you.
-Shapeshift ;)
November 18, 8:39 PM - Iacon Towers, Hall of Records
Prowl sat at the large bare desk as he tapped his pen against his chin. It was growing dark, he watched, as he focused on the metallic smoke hovering lightly above Iacon's many towers. It was late evening, and Prowl wished he could just be through with all these registrations before he went home to his bondmate for dinner.
"Sync!"
"Yes sir," Prowl stood up with a small salute.
"I won't wait around for you to sit there and daydream," Sentinel Prime barked at the tactician. "Finish those forms so I can go home."
"Forgive me," he said softly. "I have finished Prime's forms... I am merely waiting for the remaining mechs to finish and turn theirs in."
Sentinel turned his helm with a scowl towards the closed double doors leading into the lobby. "Well... hurry it up. I have much to finish myself."
"Yes sir," he answered and sat back down. His pen knocked against his bright red chevron, the mech twitching his wings from a sudden burst of cold air.
*Finally,* he thought, looking up and expecting to see the doors slide open and a mech walk up to him.
His helm sank into his shoulders as no one came out, and the doors remained shut.
He faced back down, staring tiredly at the stack of datapads piled up on the corner. He hadn't paid much attention to them; he was just in charge of receiving them from the recruits and filing them for Optimus. But lately he had only been bossed around by Sentinel, and occasionally Ultra Magnus, both top rank and supreme chiefs of the Autobots but no doubt anything to Prowl more than Optimus Prime was. He looked forward to coming to work, specifically to the Prime, more than happy to fight for a cause under the greatest Prime he'd ever known.
He leaned on an elbow and offlined his optics, relaxing somewhat, thinking about Jazz... His wonderful bondmate, someone who made him even happier than the Prime. His newly-bonded bondmate, to be exact. They had just gotten back from their honeymoon half an orn ago, their bondage ceremony still fresh in their circuits from the previous orn.
He thought over that beautiful black and white frame, those small wings that would almost flutter when he was happy, which was practically all the time. That sweet smile he couldn't wait to come home to, under those two huge bright blue optics.
His optics onlined as he felt himself smiling, but dropping as the first datapad caught his optic.
It was Ratchet's, the planet's best medic just about, and Jazz's adoptive creator.
Ratchet...? He couldn't remember at all how the medic had supposedly come up to him with his report. Or maybe his sleepless nights had finally gotten the best of him, and he couldn't remember anything at all almost. He shook his helm slightly and read over it.
Name (Last, First (Maiden if Applicable)): Laeo, Ratchet
*Bonded Name: Giffe
Age (In Solar Cycles): 5,004,000
Current Occupation: Local medic, EMT
Current Location: Central City
Unofficial Gender: Mech
Bondage Status: . Bonded . | . Engaged/Unofficial . | . Single . | . Breakage .
Health Concerns: none
Adviser Signature of Approval and Further Interview: Prowl Sync
He couldn't help the small smile that formed across his faceplate. He loved Ratchet; not as an intimate love, but almost as a creator to himself. Of course he knew the medic like the back of his servo, mainly by dating Jazz and finally bonding to him. He and Ironhide were both extraordinary mechs.
He looked up as he heard someone lightly cough, smiling at the mech before him and the closing doors.
"Hello!"
"Hi," he replied quietly with a small smile. "I finished."
"Very nice, thank you..." Prowl said as he took the datapad and skimmed over it.
Name (Last, First (Maiden if Applicable)): Laufiet, Mirage
was the only line he paid attention to. That last name, he hadn't heard of one for solar cycles. He was surely of much more class, elegance... At least a Noble, definitely.
"...um, Mirage."
The Noble smiled.
Prowl looked down at the pad as Mirage left, optics nearly bulging out of his helm.
Bondage Status: . Bonded . | . Engaged/Unofficial . | . Single . | . Breakage .
Health Concerns: Cycling attacks (operations/meds)
*How on Cybertron is a mech like that single...* He couldn't help his curiousity. Of course he had no interest in the mech, he just found it astonishing.
The next mech came in, Prowl finding this mech somewhat interesting.
"How ya doin', mech?" the red and yellow mech spoke with ease and coolness, obviously not shy at all compared to the Noble.
"I'm doing well," he replied, placing Mirage's pad on top of the others and reading this new one.
Name (Last, First (Maiden if Applicable)): Amori, Blaster
*Bonded Name:
Age (In Solar Cycles): 1,600,320
Current Occupation: DJ, Pro. dancer for Ichronus Inc
Current Location: Iacon
Unofficial Gender: Mech
Bondage Status: . Bonded . | . Engaged/Unofficial . | . Single . | . Breakage .
Health Concerns: none
Adviser Signature of Approval and Further Interview: Prowl Sync
DJ? Well, he and Jazz would definitely get along. "Thank you, Blaster," he gave a soft smile.
"Thank you," he answered as he slyly walked off towards the exit doors. "Have a nice day."
"Yes, you too."
Prowl waited another five kliks before the last mech came in.
"I'm so sorry - "
"No, that's alright."
"I just had to take an important call."
"That's fine, we have plenty of time."
The nervous mech smiled and handed over the datapad. He stayed as Prowl read glanced at it, making sure he filled all of the few questions out, remaining perfectly still as he still felt bad about keeping the sargent waiting.
Name (Last, First (Maiden if Applicable)): Helion, Perceptor
*Bonded Name: Retic
Age (In Solar Cycles): 4,030,900
Current Occupation: Gen. Scientist, Anatomist/Pharmacist
Current Location: Central City
Unofficial Gender: Mech
Bondage Status: . Bonded . | . Engaged/Unofficial . | . Single . | . Breakage .
Health Concerns: none
Adviser Signature of Approval and Further Interview: Prowl Sync
"Ah, yes, I thought you looked familiar."
The red mech looked up as Prowl did. "You work with Ratchet. Bonded to Wheeljack," he finished.
"That's right," he smiled. "You must be Prowl."
The tactician quirked his helm to the side.
"Ratchet talks about Jazz and you. He and I are good friends."
He nodded in agreement and smiled back. "It's nice to meet you," he said calmly. "I hope to see you at the official ceremony."
Perceptor turned to leave with a grin. "Say hi to Wheeljack for me," he heard, and gave a simple servo gesture to acknowledge it as he left for the night.
Prowl transformed on the ground street outside his house with ease, wings twitching in the chilly darkness. He scanned his key and unlocked the door, almost chuckling to himself as he suddenly smelled a deep scent of energon broth.
"Hi honey," he heard as he set his datapads on the table. Jazz slyly approached him from around the corner.
"Hi baby," he replied tiredly with a kiss on Jazz's cheek plate.
"Sooooo how was the registration?"
"Um... interesting. We met a lot of interesting mechs. I think only a few might not make it to next half-orn's ceremony... I signed as many as I thought should be."
"Did you," Jazz giggled. "That's good."
Prowl watched him scoop servings of the hot energon into two bowls, knowing Jazz loved to experiment. He had mentioned something about soup, but Prowl hadn't had such a thing in so long. It did smell wonderful, though, even if neither were big eaters.
"I found this nice recipe," Jazz smiled as he knew Prowl was watching him. "I wanted to try it; see if it would be worth making again."
He only felt Prowl slowly walk up behind him after a moment, after he didn't reply. He smiled to himself, softly, but widely, as he felt Prowl's warm presence right behind him, a little to his left, just close enough to turn around and have his lips be millimeters from his.
He set the pot back on the stove and placed his servos on the counter. Prowl slid his own across his waist from behind, slowly, until they locked over his stomach plating and his faceplate buried itself in Jazz's neck.
"I missed you," he murmured.
Jazz offlined his optics and smiled. "I missed you too."
Prowl gave a light kiss to his neck cables and pulled away enough for Jazz to face him. He leaned in and kissed him, loving how Jazz would kiss back with such passion, with his warm soft lips fitting perfectly like a puzzle.
"Go sit down," Jazz giggled as Prowl kept pulling away and kissing him again. The mech sighed playfully as he did so, Jazz joining him with two bowls of energon.
November 25, 9:50 AM - Iacon Towers, Main Conference Center
"Good morning!" Ultra Magnus announced with a loud smile. "Congratulations to all who have passed for further interview into the Autobot continuity."
A small applause floated through the large room. Prowl glanced at Jazz from his position beside Magnus, just off the side of the platform, Jazz winking at him with a sly smile from his table in the audience he shared with a few mechs.
"My name is Ultra Magnus," he continued. "I am Deputy Supreme Commander of the Autobots. We chiefs will introduce ourselves before the meeting is over, but we will start will a simple roll call to make sure all have arrived."
Optimus Prime glanced to Prowl from the opposite side of the platform as Ultra Magnus walked off. He gave the tactician a look of calming, Prowl finding it strange how the Prime always knew what he was thinking.
"Good morning," Sentinel Prime greeted. "My name is Sentinel Prime, Supreme Commander of the Autobots. I will list of the names of our recruits, and Elita One's as well, in alphabetical order."
Elita smiled at Optimus as he looked over to her, the femme leader moving closer to him as no one was watching.
"Blaster Amori."
"Right here, mech."
"Moonracer Apex."
"Present." She looked away as Sentinel looked up over to her, having not hearing a femme voice in so long.
"Chromia Atlas."
"Present."
"Springer Chreptix."
"Here, sir."
"Beachcomber Fluxus."
"I am here."
"Tracks Folliette."
"Here."
"Ironhide Giffe."
"Present, sir."
"Warpath Grandus."
"Right here!"
"Perceptor Helion-Retic."
"Present."
"Bumblebee Heptix."
"Here."
"Huffer Jolt."
"Here."
"Seaspray Krome."
"Present, sir."
"Ratchet Laeo-Giffe."
"Present."
"Hound Lancic."
"Here, sir."
"Mirage Laufiet."
"Here, your honor."
Sentinel looked up with an arrogant smile to himself. "Drift LeGuire."
"Present, sir."
"Smokescreen Leir."
"Here."
"Windcharger Leir."
"Here."
"Trailbreaker Ligier."
"Here, sir."
"Cosmos Mace."
"Present."
"Gears Minor."
"Here."
"Jazz Mollier-Sync."
"Here, sir."
Prowl gave him a small wink back as he took a sip of energon.
"Red-Alert Neit."
"Here, sir."
"Firestar Nulltric."
"Present, sir."
"Grapple Omnitic."
"Here."
"Sideswipe Ordaine."
"Here."
"Sunstreaker Ordaine."
"Here."
"Cliffjumper Petriene."
"Present."
"Inferno Polt."
"Here, sir."
"Wheeljack Retic."
"Here."
"Powerglide Shardus."
"Present, sir."
"Brawn Sirius."
"Here."
"Arcee Stellarus."
"Here, sir."
"Bluestreak Sync."
"Here sir."
"Prowl Sync."
Prowl gave a soft "here" from right beside him. Sentinel chuckled to himself as he simply forgot to take his name off the recruit list.
"And Hoist Ventrix."
"Present."
"Did I miss anyone?"
He waited a few seconds for no one to answer. "Very good. Thank you for your time," he finished as Optimus Prime took his place.
Prowl again glanced to Jazz, watching as he softly talked to the mech next to him. Blaster, Prowl remembered the name. The one called Trailbreaker sat next to them. He watched how Jazz and Blaster did indeed get along very well, smiling, probably talking about music or some other useless form of entertainment, as Prowl thought.
He couldn't help but smile, though. His Jazz, at that table, making friends, being typical Jazz. He loved him, no doubt. He honestly didn't know what he would do without him. Or even what Jazz would do without Prowl. With Jazz's horrid history, Prowl thought over, Jazz must really love Prowl to bond to him, and trust him like he did.
As Optimus talked indistinctly to the audience, Prowl was still lost in thought. His smile had fallen, thinking about Jazz as he saw they had stopped talking to listen to the Prime.
It's going to be okay, Jazz," he said as sirens wailed in the background. Jazz laid slightly upright against the old metal facility, bleeding to death, beat up and raped after his ex's hit-and-run with a gang.
Ratchet had already tended to him as Prowl was chasing the criminals with his police team, catching and arresting all but one. One was shot and killed. As Prowl returned, headlights still surrounded the area as the others still investigated.
"C'mon Jazz, stay with me," Jazz's adoptive creator tried to keep him awake. Prowl could tell he was slipping away, kissing his helm and squeezing his servo to keep him online.
They had only been dating a few months now. Prowl had gotten to know him, about his history, and the reasons why Jazz wouldn't interface with him because of it. He loved his ex, when they were still together, and trusted him... Enough to interface, and have his ex leave him the next joor. Half an orn later he comes back and rapes him, drunk as hell, abusing him, mentally mostly.
After they thought he was eventually arrested and taken care of after the countless attacks, he dated another mech, by another pick-up line from the club he DJ-ed at. Not at first this time, but soon, he started trusting him, started interfacing, making more passionate love, until he left him.
Again.
Jazz was going insane by this point, as this ex came after him with a lustful plot, whether Jazz wanted it or not. He and his posse would insult him, beat him, make Jazz give them what they wanted: a nice, tight valve, something that would pleasure them, and keep them coming back for more.
He eventually came clean to Ratchet about it, as he and Ironhide knew something was up with all the missed calls and depressed tone of voice. He brought in arms, a security camera in Jazz's apartment, even a tracking system in Jazz's circuits.
They found the mech and took him in, Jazz having some piece of mind for a while until they didn't even have to date Jazz to come and rape him. Jazz absolutely hated himself for not being able to just have a lover, someone who would actually love him, make love to him, like a normal couple. He wanted a sparkling and a bondmate to raise it with him...not just get pregnant by rape and have the father leave him. A sparkling the way he wanted would never happen at this rate.
And then Prowl came along.
Prowl smiled again as he kept gazing at Jazz.
"I... can't..." Jazz repeated for the fifth time that month. "I still can't believe I'm still with you. It's too much of a dream."
Prowl certainly wouldn't push Jazz into having sex, but he just wanted to know why. What had happened to make him such a nervous wreck when Prowl brought it up, or wrapped his arms around him to seduce him into it.
And then one day it all came out, starting with "BECAUSE IF I HAVE SEX WITH YOU YOU'LL LEAVE ME!"
Prowl kept his smile as he found Jazz glancing back. He thought over how now they were bonded... Now they were having sex. Passionate sex, he might add. As much as he hated to admit it, he could see why they all had come after him for something so nice.
He counted himself lucky.
The thing about this relationship, though, was that it took trust. Jazz had finally trusted him enough... One night, after dinner, Prowl had loved on him so much, as he gently started to pry off little pieces of armor, piece-by-piece, with little nips and sucks to pleasurable parts, until they were in the berth, making love for cycles.
The armor-less bodies weren't necessary; they only added to arousal and feeling. Prowl had better access to wires and clips to soothe him, relax Jazz, to finally get through an amazing interface.
Jazz had never been so scared in his lifestream, when he woke up the next morning... But when Prowl was still in that berth, next to him, still recharging, he knew he had made a good choice.
Prowl hardly noticed how he was being summoned; as Optimus called his name for what sounded like the third time, he snapped back to reality, taking his position at the podium.
"I noticed you were sorta zonin' out," Jazz snickered after the meeting as everyone was going home. Prowl gave his servo another squeeze as they walked down the sidewalk to the train station.
"I was thinking," he replied. "About things."
"You were lookin' at me, Prowler," he smiled. "The whole time."
Prowl glanced to his bondmate and kissed his servo. "Because I love you."
Jazz gave a big pressed smile and turned back to face the sidewalk before them.
They rode the train back home silently. Jazz rested against Prowl, optics offline, but Prowl still not sure if was actually asleep or not. He only stroked his helm, his shoulder, giving little kisses every so often on the half-empty train.
He looked out the window, just in time to see that metal facility, still standing at the end of the alley on the outskirts of Iacon. He looked to where Jazz had been lying, half dead, bleeding on the metal ground that still surrounded the area.
He turned away and planted another kiss on his lover's helm. He offlined his own optics, thumping his helm against the window... smiling to himself. Softly, almost warmly, with the evening sun setting and shining in on everyone.
They were going home, he thought, though it would be no different than any other night he and Jazz went home.
He would make it different, though. If the war ever got to a point where they had to live as Autobots, together, on a ship or some sort of bunker, they wouldn't go home again. No more coming home to that sweet smell of whatever Jazz wanted to make for dinner. No more coffee dates in the mornings. No more holidays or breaks. Nor more passionate sex in their warm berth. They would miss the special memories they shared, definitely.
But tonight, he thought over, would be made extra special.