A/N: Mind you that this is my first PxJ story...I hope you enjoy it!
Title: Stereo Hearts
Rating: T...(ratings will go up for purposes)
Summary: Jazz loves Prowl and Prowl loves Jazz, but what troubles arise from their secrets being kept in the dark?
Disclaimer: I don't own Tranformers...I am just using Prowl and Jazz because I love them!
Well...this is really it. Read, enjoy, and comment :)
My heart's a stereo
It beats for you, so listen close
Hear my thoughts in every no-o-ote
Make me your radio and turn me up when you feel low
This melody was meant for you
Just sing along to my stereo
Jazz hummed the tune to the recent top song of pop culture. His radio was wired up internally to his CPU and it played the catchy tune within. If it weren't for the tune to capture the saboteur's thoughts, his personal love interest might. In fact, just peaking beyond the upbeat lyrics, he popped up.
His smile, that dedication that often ended up with exhaustion. His dry sense of humor, the captivating stare of his blue optics, and not to mention those graceful doorwings that adorned the mechs frame elegantly: always perked up to a professional 'V'.
"...Prowl..." Jazz breathed. His shuttered optics only allowed more access into the lovely image of the Autobot SIC. His efforts of trying to get the tactician for himself didn't go without being seen...by others anyway.
Jazz had fallen for the other black and white when they were in the academy together. Like all other crushes had started out, he met the bot, gained a sudden liking, and worked his way to the prize. Jazz was much smarter than going up and asking for a date with Prowl, he'd prefer to win the spark with a show; a good impression if you will.
Trying everything in the book from bringing an Energon cube to him every morning to simply waxing up for an officer meeting to show off his black and white frame; nothing seemed to work. However, Jazz was not one to give up. Jazz would get Prowl one way or another, and he was determined to win the spark of the SIC.
If I was just another dusty record on the shelf
Would you blow me off and play me like everybody else?
If I asked you to scratch my back could you manage that?
Like it read well, check it, Travie, I can handle that
He set aside the datapad that he had just signed off for one of Wheeljack's experiments. "Primus help us all," He said allowed to the vacant office.
It seemed just like any other orn: wake up, grab a cube, and head to the office for the awaiting datapad pile (not including the officer meetings, the Twins pranks and consequences, and Decepticon attacks).
Granted at the end of the orn itself, there were still joints to have Ratchet loosen and his battle computer was on the verge of shutting off for the night. At times he'd work himself to exhaustion and spend the night in his office.
Prowl sighed and picked up the awaiting datapad for the medical information containing those of the previous Decepticon attack. Cliffjumper and Mirage had been temporarily offline due to a new weapon made by Starscream. Ironhide, Jazz, Smokescreen, Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, and himself had been shot with minor injuries while Sideswipe and Inferno had gone under surgery for CPU wires that had been shot and loss of Energon.
Prowl shook his head. That probably wasn't one of the best fights that the Autobots had gone into. Granted, there were still more injuries-and unfortunately losses-to go through before the war would end.
With all this in mind, the tactician's mood was famished for something positive, only to be fed his love for none other than his one true best friend and TIC: Jazz.
The saboteur was one of the most popular Bots on base. His good natured attitude and happy-go-lucky personality was hard to dismiss. Although of course he could be serious when need be but other than that, he was always smiling, joking around, and spreading his mech charm to everyone on base. These traits were only some of the reasons why Prowl fell for him so quickly. Though, his chances of getting with his fellow black and white colleague were slim because, ...well..., what Bot didn't like Jazz?
His smile was above all else his most wonderful physical trait along with his visor. Primus, Prowl thought. What I wouldn't give to wake up to that visor each and every morning. His physical traits, however, didn't matter much to Prowl though. The tactician cared much more about the spark, and boy did Jazz have one pure spark. He cared for every one of his Autobot teammates; everybot came before him. He genuinely cared for each with a different attitude towards them. Sincerity to the shyest of them like Red Alert and care free to those who enjoyed his likes and dislikes like Blaster. His sense of humor topped all of those traits; it always seemed to brighten up his mood when he was upset.
There were many, many wonderful things that described Prowl's love for his friend; so much that a simple list would go on and on. What he'd give to pour out his feeling to the TIC.
Furthermore, I apologize for any skipping tracks
It's just the last girl that played me left a couple cracks
I used to used to used to. Now I'm over that
'Cause holding grudges over love is ancient artifacts
However, would Jazz give him a chance at his love fantasy? He was often categorized as up-tight, strict, cold-sparked, hard on others; emotionless...dare he go on? Surely, no wonderful mech like Jazz would want somebot like Prowl.
His dedication to his job and the Autobot cause was precisely what had ended so many relationships with others. Prowl couldn't count all of the times that he'd been called emotionless or a workaholic by the ones he'd hurt with no purpose behind them. He was reminded with each break-up that no one would be able to love something so...so...strict and job-devoted. It often made Prowl wonder if he was truly ever destined for love.
With his final thoughts reflecting Jazz and himself, Prowl sighed again and picked up the datapad that he had absentmindedly set down on his desk. As he began to read again, doubt seeped through the stoic mask of the tactician, plaguing his judgment of his love life and chances with Jazz.
If I could only find a note to make you understand
I'd sing it softly in your ear and grab you by the hand
Just keep it stuck inside your head, like your favorite tune
And know my heat's a stereo that only plays for you
By now, Jazz was now pacing his room and slightly bobbing on his heels from the tune of the song. His mind began to be bombarded with his feelings of Prowl. How in Primus name would he be able to achieve his life time goal of his best friend's affection?
My heart s a stereo
It beats for you, so listen close
Hear my thoughts in every no-o-ote
Make me your radio and turn me up when you feel low
This melody was meant for you
Just sing along to my stereo
Oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh to my stereo
Oh oh oh oh so sing along to my stereo
If I was an old-school fifty pound boombox (remember them?)
Would you hold me on your shoulder wherever you walk
Would you turn my volume up in front of the cops (turn it up)
And crank it higher everytime they told you to stop
Between the tune, the lyrics, and his feelings racing through his processor, seeds of doubt were planted. It seemed with every good intention that a piece of the mind had to ruin the fun, Jazz thought.
Jazz tried to swipe at the self esteem bombs that shot throughout his CPU. Planting and spreading their roots of why Prowl wouldn't want to take a chance with the TIC. It seemed to Jazz that he was too boisterous for the tactician. He loved to be in the areas where the music was shaking the ground, while Prowl preferred to be in peace and quiet with his datapads. Jazz was always cracking jokes off and letting things slide like the Twins pranks. Prowl was always at a relaxed position and tolerated no childish behavior from any of his Autobot members. They were too different and it seemed they weren't compatible at all. They were like fire and ice.
Jazz enjoyed partying and hanging out with his friends, and watching over them while being in the action. Prowl was more into staying in his office or quarters, and watching the others on the sidelines.
How would Prowl ever love someone like him? Yes, he was probably the most popular bot on the Ark but, he could possibly care less of what others thought. It seemed the only opinion he was concerned about was Prowl's.
And all I ask is that you don't get mad at me
When you have to purchase mad D batteries
Appreciate every mixtape your friends make
You never know we come and go like on the interstate
Even if Jazz did get a chance with his love interest, would it all plummet to the ground in a week or would they repulse each other? He was to music while Prowl was to datapads; to Jazz, it didn't correspond with each other.
But...but what if there was a chance?
Jazz looked up from his empty stare at the ground; his pacing stopping. Perhaps there was something that he could try and coax Prowl into going on a date with him. And then maybe, just maybe, Jazz could express his feelings to his long time crush.
I think I finally found a note to make you understand
If you can hit it, sing along and take me by the hand
Just keep me stuck inside your head, like your favorite tune
You know my heart's a stereo that only plays for you
Jazz smiled as his plan was hatched in his processor. Smiling from audio to audio, he shut off the radio and the song. He opened his door to his quarters and walked out to head to Prowl's office where he was sure the tactician would be.
While walking down the hall, he passed Bumblebee who was walking beside Cliffjumper. He waved to them both as he hurriedly walked to his destination. He also passed Hound and Mirage in the hallway.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Hound called out waving and laughing in Jazz's general direction. Jazz stopped his pace and walked back to where Hound stood, Mirage standing with him while his arm rested securely around his lover's waist.
"Jus' gotta go tell Prowler som'in..." Jazz exclaimed excitedly.
"Can't it wait till tomorrow? You'll end up running over someone if you keep up with that pace!" Mirage whined.
Jazz cast a glare at the noble and smiled. "Nah, Ah gotta tell 'im today." Jazz said before turning on his heel and picking up his previous pace to Prowl's office.
In less than a few kliks, Jazz made it to Prowl's office where he stopped for a breath before knocking on the door and waited to be invited in. He worked to slow his spark from its small workout so he wasn't out of breath when he talked to Prowl.
"Come in," Jazz heard through the door.
He gathered in one last breath before he opened the door and walked in to see Prowl. His graceful doorwings at their perky 'V' and his stoic mask staring expectantly at the saboteur.
My heart's a stereo
It beats for you, so listen close
Hear my thoughts in every no-o-ote
Make me your radio and turn me up when you feel low
This melody was meant for you
Just sing along to my stereo
Oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh to my stereo
Oh oh oh oh so sing along to my stereo
Setting aside another datapad, Prowl picked up another one. He skimmed over it for its length, the subject, and what needed to be done before fully going into depth of the detailed reading. His feelings for Jazz were safely bottled up and pushed out of the way. Though the bottle was cracking with each drip that seeped out of the seams; Jazz would slip back into his mind and play that sweet laugh and smile that he only seemed to give Prowl. His visor brightening when he saw him and his excited grin becoming bigger if that were possible.
Prowl smiled with just the thought of Jazz, his best friend, and his love.
Just before Prowl was going to let a small chuckle escape from where his affections were playing around in his circuits, a knock upon the metal door echoed through his office. Prowl looked up and quickly gathered himself and his thoughts together: raising his doorwings to a graceful 'V' on his back and presenting his stoic mask before bellowing, "Come in,"
And to speak of the devil, Jazz walked in with his grin bringing life to his office.
I only pray you'll never leave me behind (never leave me)
Because good music can be so hard to find (so hard to find)
I take your head and hold it closer to mine (yeah)
Thought love was dead, but now you're changing my mind (come on whoa)
"Jazz, what can I do for you?" Prowl asked fighting a smile that itched to be revealed to the saboteur.
Jazz was grinning from audio to audio that almost made Prowl jump up and hug him...almost. His servos were adorned perfectly and seductively on his hip that screamed out, 'I've got a plan and you re gonna hear it!'
"Hey, Prowler," Jazz bounced. "Ah, was wonderin' tha' tonigh' would be a clear sky and full moon. Wouldja want ta take a drive with meh tonigh'?" Jazz asked. His grin seemed to grow again; if it were possible.
Jazz was at a loss of words after he spoke his question. He had made plans mentally that he'd take Prowl up to the ridge, where the forest below was lit by the moonlight, and the stars were clearly seen. He didn't know what to expect from the tactician; he often seemed full of surprises when it came to activities outside of work duties.
Prowl looked ahead at Jazz. The question was not accounted for and he was taken off guard. Jazz seemed to tense up slightly after asking his question.
"I will see what I can do. When do you plan on going for this 'drive'?" Prowl asked nonchalantly.
"Well, Ah was hopin' tonigh' if it were cool with ya." Jazz said, his servos dropping from his hips and now working in with his invitation.
Prowl continued to stare at Jazz. His outer features showed no emotion as he trained himself for, however, on the inside, his spark pulsed faster and faster. He itched to smile and hold Jazz close. He fought the little voice in his consciousness that screamed redundantly to reply 'yes, yes, yes' but he told himself to remain professional about it.
Jazz was asking him to go on a drive? Him? Prowl wanted to scream at the top of his voice box with that recuring 'YES!'
My heart's a stereo
It beats for you, so listen close
Hear my thoughts in every no-o-ote
Make me your radio and turn me up when you feel low
This melody was meant for you
Just sing along to my stereo
Prowl looked at Jazz and then held up one digit, motioning him to wait. Prowl looked into his agenda for tonight and tomorrow. Nothing. He put down his digit and looked Jazz in the optics.
Jazz stared back at the icy glaze. Absentmindedly, Jazz's gaze wondered all over the SIC: his glossy sleek doorwings, the shiny crimson chevron that adorned his sleek helm. He brought his gaze back to Prowl where his optics only continued to wonder off the path. They bore holes in the deep inviting blue optics that suggested professionalism, lust, greed, and want. Further down, the pristine nose centered the beautiful face and those lips... Jazz was getting off topic.
He brought himself back to the optics that ordered his attention. He complied with the silent beckon and waited for Prowl to reply.
Prowl hadn't noticed Jazz's optics searching him. He couldn't help but explore the sights before him either. The complimentary colors of the blue and red against the black and white were astounding to look at. The black helm that respectively looking at him with the bright blue visor; it was full of mystery. No one could see Jazz's optics behind his visor but, he was told by Jazz himself, that he was blind. How? Jazz wouldn't go into detail about it and he certainly wasn't one to pry unless the circumstances called upon it.
His optics then rested upon the rest of Jazz's facials: his nose and smooth face plates. The waves of nervousness caressed his frame and the evidence was in the slight dimming of Jazz's visor. His lips were innocent as they rested above his chin where they caressed the gentle slope of his face. He couldn't help but think what it'd be like to kiss those lips.
Prowl pulled out of his fantasy and replied to get his mind off of loving on Jazz. "Yes, I don't seem to have any plans tonight. I suppose we can go out for that drive. When would you like to meet?"
Jazz perked up. His date had been accepted and his spark began thrumming again, threatening to send him into stasis. Ratchet wouldn't be too thrilled to find an unconscious Jazz.
"Great! Wha' 'bout 8 tonigh'?" He asked; careful not to overstep or even imply that it was indeed a date.
That was a reasonable time to Prowl. He nodded, giving his agreement. "Sounds good, I suppose I will see you tonight at the entrance of the Ark."
Jazz smiled again and gave a playful salute before heading out the door. Once he reached outside the office, he let out a small victory cry while thrusting a servo into the air.