This is my first story so... yeah. If it doesn't turn out well, I'll take it down. Oneshot. Warning: Mech and mech.

Jazz's POV

"Blah blah the decepticons and the autobots blah blah bah. We need to blah blah..." Optimus droned on and on at the officer meeting. Jazz stifled a yawn. He had just come back from a long mission and was feeling dead tired. He could barely make out what Optimus was saying. Perhaps he should have recharged before submitting his report. Megatron was building yet another megaweapon. Silently, he cursed the slagging decepticons to the pit and back. He forced himself to turn his head towards Optimus to appear as if he were paying attention.

However, he was on the boundary of sleeping, right there, right then. Well, time to remedy that. Glad for his visor, he kept his head trained on the presenter but furtively peeked at his crush- Prowl. Just looking at Prowl made Jazz feel infinitely better. Drinking in every detail, Jazz took note of how his sweeping doorwings were flared proudly behind him. How it would be to feel those doorwings, to caress them and... No. Prowl would never allow it. Every time Jazz 'accidently' touched his doorwings, the uptight SIC would suddenly freeze, before continuing whatever he was doing, ignoring the over-friendly touches. Thus, Jazz arrived at the conclusion that Prowl did not return his feelings. And Jazz was to scared to make the first step.

Suddenly, Prowl tore his eyes from the presentation to stare at Jazz. Busted. Jazz forced himself to listen to Optimus, not wanting his beloved to get mad at him and make a scene, lengthening the briefing. Jazz's optics began powering down and he soon fell into a light recharge, still sitting up.

Prowl's POV

Prowl payed close attention to Optimus, mentally taking notes. Special Ops had just reported that Megatron was building another weapon. Optimus was obvious boring the officers with unnecessary details like the stupid colour of the weapon and how it was made. Prowl set aside some time in his already choked schedule to teach the young prime how to give a proper briefing. Still listening attentively, Prowl let his thoughts drift. To Jazz, his object of affection. Unconsciously, Prowl glanced at Jazz and was struck once again by how stunning Jazz was. Light seemed to highlight Jazz's slender protoform perfectly. Making Jazz, at least in Prowl's point of view, look like an angel.

But... Aside from work (and his stupid nickname of 'Prowler'), Prowl doubted Jazz noticed him. Jazz was a social mech who mingers with everyone... except him. There were times when Jazz would accidently brush his hand against his sensitive doorwing. That was torture. Prowl was this close to claiming Jazz as his own but somehow managed to restrain himself before returning to work or whatever he was previously doing. Why would Jazz choose him out of all the mechs on base? He had no reason to.

Suddenly, the alarms blared and screeched, alerting the autobots to a decepticon attack. "Perfect timing." Ironhide growled. Jazz appeared slightly startled whereas the other autobot officers began preparing for battle.

:: Prowl to Smokesceen. Smokescreen, come in. ::

:: Smokescreen here. Report. ::

:: The meeting room is on the opposite side of the ark and I would only waste time going there. Are you able to direct the battle? ::

:: Yes sir. ::

With that done, Prowl pulled his gun out of subspace and made a beeline for the battlefield.

After the battle, Jazz's POV

The battle was over with only one casualty. Jazz was not injured at all. Yet, here he was. Loitering outside the medbay. Why? That casualty was Prowl. He sustained damage from a blast from Megatron's megaweapon. Enraged by the downfall of their SIC, the autobots attacked furiously, taking down any unfortunate decepticon in their path. With no other choice, Megatron called a strategic retreat .No one was sure if Prowl would survive. Jazz furrowed his brow worriedly (though no one could see with his visor) as Ratchet exited the medbay, wiping energon off his hand. Jazz immediately bombarded him with questions, "How's Prowler? Is he functioning? What's his stats?"

Ratchet merely raised an optic ridge and replied, "Well, his left arm was completely destroyed and Perceptor is fabricating another. His leg, which was half-blown off, has been sucessfully repaired. He also lost alot of energon, which is currently being replaced. He should recover completely in a decaorn." Jazz felt weak with relief and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Why do you care?"

"Umm... Without Prowler the autobots will lose the war?" It was one of the worst excuses Jazz had ever come up with. Ratchet suspiciously suveyed Jazz before chuckling.

"I see. When are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?" Jazz asked innocently. Too innocently.

"Does he know about your feelings towards him?"

"What are ya talking about Ratchet?" Ratchet raised an optic ridge, again. Sighing, Jazz confessed, "He doesn't seem to acknowledge meh at all. Pit, even flirting doesn't get through. Ah don't know what to do."

"Have you tried telling him?" Ratchet asked.

"Umm... No? Ah don't think he'll return mah feelings."

"Just tell him. At least you'll see if he does, rather than live your life in misery. Can you live with yourself if he offlined today?" No, Jazz knew he would not be able to. Ratchet checked the time. "Prowl should be awake. Go on. Skat and stop bothering me."

"Thanks, doc. For the advice and your miracle work." Jazz grinned a blinding smile and sped into the medbay. Only to see Prowl stirring. "Heya Prowler."

"Jazz? What are you doing here?"

"Checking on ya."

"Did anything happen to the ark?" Just like Prowl to ask.

"Not really. But Ah just want ta tell ya that I sorta... like ya. Alot." Seeing Prowl's eyes widen, Jazz opened his mouth to add on but was cut off when Prowl's lips captured his. To say Prowl kissed him was an understatement. Prowl ravished his entire mouth, hungrily.

"Do you know how long I have dreamed about this moment? And how many things can go wrong with this relationship? But I don't care. As long as I can have you, it's worth it." Prowl said when he broke off.

"Same here, Prowler. Same here."

I know this story sucks and I know I used other writer's stories for inspiration. I also don't know how to do Jazz's accent. But I suppose it could be worse.
~Weekendish