Prowl was good at what he did. He had to be. If he wasn't, the war would have ended a long time ago. It was up to him to decide on battle tactics, and it was all he could do to keep them alive. When Decepticon activity was spotted on the horizon, Optimus Prime depended on Prowl to make the decisions that would lead to a victory- or at least would ensure they didn't suffer an insurmountable loss.

Too often did his job demand he place loved ones in danger for Prowl to get emotionally attached to anything. Love was a thing for fairy tales, not war. In a time where anyone could get blown up at any second, it was too much collateral to allow himself to fall for anyone. There was too much fear in his spark to be able to hold any love.

Which is why Jazz was good at what he did. Prowl's cool demeanor was just another challenge this war was making him face. Jazz liked challenges, despite his lackadaisical attitude. And although Prowl didn't want to fall in love, when someone like Jazz really liked you, you couldn't help but fall right back.

At first he had tried to deny what was happening to him. He didn't talk to Jazz if he could help it, and when he did, it was only ever to give a curt order or two (which Jazz always followed to a T). But something always shone through his stoic exterior. For instance, he never sent Jazz on life-threatening missions.

After being injured one day in battle, he had waited in Ratchet's laboratory for everyone else to be fixed up before he would allow himself to be looked at. It was his duty as an officer to make sure his troops were well taken care of. When the last mech had been fixed, and Prowl could finally get his turn, he noticed a figure standing in the doorway. His spark had lurched unpleasantly as he realized just who it was. Jazz was one determined little frag.

Arm now fixed, Prowl had decided to try and ignore his fellow officer. Best be out of there quickly to avoid words that were sure to be awkward. Ratchet managed to get out of the lab faster than Prowl (he had seemed rather rushed that day) and the two transformers were left facing each other.

Memories of that day bubbled up inside him now as deft fingers ran along his door protrusion. What a wonderful day that had been. Had he known what was coming, Prowl might have actually demanded to be fixed up that day; or maybe he would have sought Jazz out a long time ago. Awkward words meant nothing after they had kissed, and in that moment he had let go of his inhibitions long enough to admit to himself that yes, he did want Jazz and he should be thankful that after everything, Jazz wanted him too.

His lips parted and he sighed as those perfect black digits massaged the very tips of his "wings". An arm wrapped around his chest, forcing his head up so that the other bot could steal a kiss while his mouth was open. He stiffened but did not pull back, trying desperately to override the firewalls that went up anytime anyone touched him. It's just Jazz, he forced his joints to unlock. His optics blazed bright palatinate before dimming down to a midnight blue. Jazz purred in satisfaction as his mate relaxed for him. He was lucky, and he knew it. Prowl loved to have control over any given situation. Giving himself to another mech could not be easy for him.

"That's it," he encouraged in a soft murmur. "Give yourself to me, my love." He dug his fingers into the soft metal at the base of the left door "wing". Practice leant him its gift. Prowl arched perfectly beneath him.

"I...I-" his voice- hoarse and deep -groaned from beneath his lover's body. Jazz pressed a little tighter, making his other moan terrifically as his optics shut off entirely.

He quivered at Jazz's touch. The musical subcomander was so damn good at it. He knew just how to make Prowl, who was usually so cool in the face of fire, a quivering wreck with a few simple touches. It took all his strength to hold onto conscious thought. Jazz knew him so well. He cared about him in ways no other transformer had. And it was so much deeper than any other love Prowl had had. The blue visored Autobot was like a shot fired directly at his spark, and it jolted unpleasantly any time he had to send Jazz out into danger. Conversely, it would spark ever bright whenever they stole moments together away from the other Autobots. It was a perfect statute to all the hard work Jazz put in to getting his mate that they were ever alone at all.

"It could be so much better," Jazz's breath stirred his audio inputs. "We could, you know? If that's what you wanted."

He couldn't answer immediately, as another spasm wracked his circuits. He let his optics flash on so that he could gaze at his lover's face before him. This was not the first time that Jazz had made those inquiries of him. Cold fear gripped his pulsing spark. He knew that the other mech wanted to spark-bond. Spark-bonding was the deepest connection any transformer could go. It involved opening your innermost self to another mech, allowing someone inside not just your body, but your very soul.

And it was permanent. Once a bond was completed, it didn't just go away. They lasted as long as both of the bondies were alive. If it was any other time, Prowl might have considered it before now. But this was a time of war, and the chances of him losing his mate after they went through with a bond were substantial enough for him to have denied love in the first place. Losing a bondmate was supposed to be the most painful thing a mech could live through. Wasn't life hard enough without that weighing on his spark?

On the other hand, Jazz was not a youngling anymore. He had demonstrated time and time again his strength and skill on the battlefield. If he treated an enemy with such boldness and determination, how would he be treating a bondmate? Many-a-time in their relationship would Prowl hear Jazz repeat whatever was on his mind practically verbatim. It was amazing how the other mech seemed to know what Prowl was thinking. He tried to imagine that link on a deeper and closer connection. That combined with Jazz on a physical level...mmm...and he'd thought Jazz couldn't get any better at what he did.

Looking up into the honest face before him, decided it was time to act. There was no fear in his spark anymore. This was not something cold analysis could decide for him. He had to follow his spark, and by damn he wanted to.

With trembling hands, he pried open his chest to reveal his spark chamber. Jazz's jaw dropped open as he watched his partner open the silver shell to reveal his spark. It blazed blinding Alice blue. He hesitated not to pull open his own spark chamber. "You sure about this?" he asked dubiously. Prowl didn't answer verbally, just reached up and wrapped his arms around his lover's chest. Their sparks merged.

Immediately, warmth spread throughout the entwined Cybertronians, starting from their merged beings and reaching out to touch every fiber of each separate transformer. Prowl gasped as the flames- neither painful nor scorching -licked every inch of him, inside and out. He shook in barely disguised pleasure as a whole new world opened up to him.

Memories from his other (his bondmate now) caught in his optics and he could see things that his lover had once seen. He could see a brown dirt lane coming closer, he transformed into a porche 935 rather than the datsun model he was used to. Then Skywarp came back into his vision as he leaped again. The images changed to show Bluestreak- a fellow Autobot -standing and muttering nonsensically. It took Prowl a moment to realize he was singing along with something Jazz must have been playing on his radio. His vision swam until it fixed on another character, this time it being Optimus Prime as they talked quietly. Then it was Prowl himself that came to his vision, quivering beneath his expert fingers as they dug into his wires.

This time he felt that. It struck him just as he realized that what he was seeing was actually happening. Bucking at the feeling of those black digits probing his inner wires, his breath caught in his throat as his systems overloaded with too much input.

After a long moment, they fell apart and collapsed next to each other on the ground. It was a while before either of them remembered how to talk. "That was...different than I expected," Prowl admitted slowly.

"Better?"

His optics flashed back online. "Much better."

Jazz sat up, staring at his new bondmate with intense interest. "We're bonded now." Prowl didn't answer, just gazed stupidly up at him, as though he didn't quite know what to say. "That's a permanent thing, Prowl."

"I know," he said finally, sitting up as best he could. "And I am...very happy for that."

Jazz's lower jaw trembled with unsaid emotions. Prowl started inwardly as he felt an intense feeling of...what was that...coming through the bond. It didn't take him long to realize that the emotion was coming from Jazz. Jazz loved him.

Prowl reached out with a careful white hand and cupped his lover's cheek. The other mech leaned into the touch, staring with azure optics right back into Prowl's own. "It means we're together forever," repeated Jazz hazily. The tactician moved swiftly forward to brush his lover's lip components with his own.

"I don't want anyone else as long as I live."

Curling his arm around his new bondmate, the two of them sat in silence for a moment, adjusting to the new emotions coursing through their sparks. This would take some getting used to, Prowl thought slowly, but that wasn't a bad thing. He found himself rather enjoying the sensations pulsing in him now, rather than before when he might have been frustrated. Maybe it was a symptom of being Jazz's bondmate. Or maybe it was because of what he had just been through sexually.

Whatever the reason, Prowl's old self stirred restlessly at the sight of a new challenge. This was something he could face, and for once in this never ending war, it was something he didn't have to face alone.