Disclaimer: Transformers doesn't belong to me in any shape or way.
Prowl was, true to his habits, sitting at his desk immersed in paperwork. The fact that it was already well past his normal working hours did not bother him; if anything, putting in extra hours was standard procedure for him. As long as there was work that had to be finished, that was what he would be doing, even if it meant sacrificing whatever little spare time he had left of his day.
He put down the report he had just finished and frowned as he scanned the next paper in the pile, highly displeased. A report pertaining to the destruction of certain equipment due to some prank pulled a couple of days ago by the two Lamborghinis. While it had been apparent that several of the other 'Bots – obviously, the more immature ones – had found the little spectacle funny, most of them had at least had the good sense to put a damper on their amusement as Prowl had appeared on the scene to survey the damage. He hadn't even had to look at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, guilt written all across their visages, to know who was responsible for it all.
He doubted that all those extra duties he had assigned to them as punishment would have much effect though; so far his efforts to stave the two 'Bot's childish pranks had been utterly fruitless. Maybe he should just throw them into the brig next time; at least there they wouldn't be able to cause any further damage.
Or, knowing them, they probably would, one way or the other. Prowl sighed. With mechs like that in your ranks to wreak havoc upon your everyday activities, who needed the Decepticons?
And as if the damage itself hadn't been enough, now he was also stuck with extra paperwork because of it. But there was nothing to do but start working on it; he took pride in never leaving his desk until all the paper and reports were stacked into one single pile – the finished pile.
There was a knock on the door, and a moment later it was swung open. Prowl already knew without even having to look up that it was Jazz, his bondmate. Nobody else would have the daring to enter his office without a vocalized permission to.
Jazz, of course, had no such qualms. Which, Prowl somewhat sourly admitted to himself, did annoy him occasionally. He was, after all, Jazz' superior officer and his bondmate should respect that while they were still on duty. But he was well aware that it wasn't in Jazz' nature to have a lot of regard for authority.
"I'm still working, Jazz, could you come back later?" the second in command said, his optics barely leaving his paperwork.
"Unless, it's something important, of course." he added as an afterthought, full well knowing that it wasn't.
Jazz strode up to the desk, leaning casually against it. His bondmate's rather callous greeting didn't surprise him at all; this was the normal behaviour that he would display when he was on duty, even towards his own bondmate.
Of course, while off-duty, Prowl's behaviour towards him was quite different. And a little bit of that behaviour was what Jazz had been hoping for when he had been making his way towards Prowl's office. But those hopes had been quite thoroughly smashed seeing his bondmate still engulfed in his work. Jazz knew from experience that getting the other mech to temporarily let go off his duties in favour of more pleasurable activities, even for just a short while, was an impossible feat. He'd probably have an easier time convincing Megatron about the merits of defecting in favour of the Autobot cause.
Well, he was at least going to make an effort this time, even if he knew it would prove futile in the end. He would elicit at least some sort of reaction from Prowl before he got thrown out of the room.
Jazz grabbed a nearby chair, placing it on the opposite side of Prowl's desk and then nonchalantly straddled it, arms resting on top of the backrest, chin placed on his crossed arms.
"Depends on what you mean by important, Prowler... But I'd say showing your awesome bondmate a little well-deserved love and affection should definitely classify as important, wouldn't you agree?" he said, leering in what he hoped was a seductive, irresistible manner.
"Later, Jazz" came Prowls curt, oh-so-predictable reply. "If you want me to, I'll come over to your quarters once I'm finished here."
It wasn't the answer Jazz had been hoping for – judging by the size of the paper piles on Prowl's desk, "later" might as well mean next week.
Jazz remained in his current position in the chair, optics locked firmly on his bondmate, his unwavering gaze burning into the other's frame. Prowl didn't seem bothered in the slightest though, he continued his work as if Jazz hadn't even been in the room. After what felt like a vorn, Jazz finally accepted that simple staring was not a viable strategy for getting a reaction out of Prowl. Besides, he had already tried this tactic several times before, and he knew that the second in command wasn't in the slightest bothered by someone sitting right across him, attentively monitoring his every moment.
No, not Prowl. He continued to work as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Jazz couldn't understand how he did it. If it had been him sitting there with someone who in silence and with an unyielding stare tracked him like that with his optics, he would quickly and utterly have lost any concentration he had had. Yet Prowl was as unfazed as ever.
He really disliked being ignored like that. Another strategy was obviously called for.
He stood up and put the chair away, this time making himself comfortable on the edge of his bondmate's desk. By the minute tensioning he could sense in the other mech's posture, it was clear that Jazz' nonchalance had annoyed him at least a little. Good.
"If you're going to insist on trying to disrupt my work, I'll have you thrown in the brig for the rest of the evening." was the only comment that Jazz got for his efforts though.
Ooh, Prowl was really playing it tough now. Still, Jazz knew better than to disregard this as empty words. Prowl had already on a couple of previous occasions carried out the threat he was now issuing after Jazz had been a little too insistent in his efforts to get the second in command to abandon his duties in favour of more amorous activities.
Really, Jazz thought to himself, somewhat dejectedly, I've got to be the only mech in the whole universe whose bondmate would threaten to put him in the brig merely for wanting some bonding...
"You know, Prowl," Jazz tried again, still not wanting to give up so easily, "even if you're not interested, I'm sure there are other 'Bots around who wouldn't mind getting themselves some of that famous, sweet Jazz-lovin'... "
He tried to position himself into a suggestive pose on Prowl's desk, although it was easier said than done, considering how close to the edge he was sitting. Also, the desk was creaking somewhat alarmingly under his weight, and breaking Prowl's furniture would most likely disqualify him from any of the kind of attention he was looking for for quite a few days to come. Not to mention the obvious un-dignifiedness of ending up on the floor in a heap of broken desk while he was doing his best to act all seductive.
"Last warning, Jazz." came his bondmate's unimpressed reply. "As I said before, I'll come see you once I'm done here, okay?"
Perhaps he should just cut his losses, disappointed as he was though by his lack of success in this little endeavor. But at least the promise of a rendezvous later in the evening was better than nothing. He reluctantly slipped off the desk, accepting defeat.
"Alright Prowl, see you later then. But you better not renege on your promise!"
Jazz was heading back to his quarters, still a bit sour that Prowl had been so unresponsive to his attempts. Really, was there any 'Bot out there who was so hard to talk into some action as Prowl?
Well, not that Prowl was anything like that on the occasions when he did consider himself off-duty – in fact, Prowl was a very caring, gentle mech, someone who always showed his bondmate the greatest of attentive concern when they bonded. But those times were far too short and infrequent for Jazz to be happy with. He really wished that his bondmate wouldn't be so rigid and always let duty take precedence, that he would just allow himself to relax and let go more often... let go of the control that he always held onto so tight.
Yes, that was Prowl's problem. That he always needed to be in control of everything. He would never leave anything to chance, never abandon a report to be finished later, never let an important decision be placed into the hands of someone else. And that certainly couldn't be healthy in the long run.
Jazz felt a grin forming on his face as a previously un-thought, but quite interesting idea started to take shape in the deeper parts of his processor. Yes, perhaps Jazz would actually teach Prowl a little something when he came to visit his quarters later. Indeed, there would be a surprise awaiting the stiff second in command. The grin on Jazz' face had significantly widened when he finally reached his quarters and stepped in.