A/n: Wrote this for a kiriban. The reader had requested Prowl and Jazz sharing their first kiss, so I delivered. :)

It was no secret that Prowl and Jazz considered each other a friend. Sure, a lot of the Autobots thought that it was rather strange. Jazz was an open and talkative mech, with a big smile on his face and enjoying life to the fullest; it was impossible to dislike him. Prowl, however, was quiet and serious, giving the impression that he only lived to do work. His austerity and obsession with the rules didn't exactly make him popular with several Autobots either.

Still, the second and third-in-command had managed to click somehow. Some Autobots, like Optimus Prime and Ratchet, were aware that Prowl and Jazz had actually known each other from a long way back – since they were sparklings, in fact. In their optics, it was logical that the two black and white mechs were willing to renew their bond of friendship after meeting for the first time after so many vorns. Others, like Smokescreen, reasoned that Prowl and Jazz simply balanced each other to perfection. The saboteur's improvisation skills and amazing adaptability, no matter how difficult a situation turned out to be, served as a valuable asset whenever Prowl's tactics focused too much on logic and odds; Prowl, on the other hand, was always the calm force that managed to keep Jazz's spontaneity and hotheadedness under control.

Then again, the most cynical of the Autobots claimed that Prowl was just a mech with enough patience to tolerate Jazz's loud music every time they worked together (the only other one being Blaster). If nothing else, Jazz was bound to appreciate that.

If anyone bothered to ask Jazz about it, though, the saboteur would have just said that it was actually a bit of all three factors. Except he was also very careful not to mention a certain detail that went along with those assumptions. That the first thing that had crossed his mind upon seeing Prowl after such a long time was that the timid, reserved sparkling that Jazz remembered had become a proud, confident and very handsome mech.

Well, to be exact, the first thing that had crossed Jazz's mind was 'Oh, wow…'. And when Prowl had given Jazz that small, polite smile of his (some things didn't change) and gripped the black hand in a firm handshake, the saboteur was sure that his spark made a little jolt at the electrifying touch. It was one of the most instant and most powerful crushes he had ever had.

So, yes, that was factor number four, and none of the Autobots so much as suspected it; Jazz knew how to guard his secrets. Unfortunately, Prowl seemed as oblivious as the rest of the gang.

It's not that Jazz didn't try to show Prowl that he wanted to take their relationship a step beyond that of a strong, yet simple friendship. He did, and constantly for that matter. Jazz always came up with any kind of excuse in order to spend more time with Prowl, on duty or otherwise. He kept going out of his way to give the tactician any kind of gift Jazz was sure it would bring a smile on that stoic face. Primus, he even flirted with him (subtly and with style, naturally), and once he had joked that they argued like 'a bonded couple'.

Still, nothing worked. Prowl simply accepted all those gestures with the grace of any good friend, and that was that. Though Jazz often supposed that that was sign that he should give up while he had his dignity intact, the saboteur couldn't bring himself to do it. For the problem was that Jazz didn't have to deal with a mere attraction anymore. Somewhere along the way, he had fallen for the tactician, and he had fallen hard. And for once, even once, he wished Prowl could see that.

He just wasn't sure how anymore.

Though Jazz had offered Prowl to help him with his work on that particular Decepticon free day, the saboteur was hardly focused. He simply kept the datapad in his hands and sneaked glances at the tactician, glad for his visor; it would have been embarrassing if Prowl realised he was being stared at. And as he watched those clear blue optics scanning one report after another, while long white fingers held firmly a golden-coloured stylus, Jazz was in the midst of a mental turmoil.

In the end, he decided to just go ahead and ask what had been plaguing his mind. If anything, he trusted Prowl to be honest about matters and, should their friendship take a hit after this talk, they'd both make sure that they worked around that problem. Prowl was efficient like that.

As that finally settled matters, Jazz took a deep breath and placed the datapad on the desk with enough noise to get Prowl's attention.

Prowl looked up at Jazz in mild surprise. "Have you finished?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Jazz answered truthfully. "I, uh… actually wanted to talk to you, man."

Prowl nodded his understanding. "Is it about the infiltration mission in the Decepticon territory?"

Jazz laughed before he could help it. Trust Prowl to want to talk about work.

"Nah, everything's right in that department," he answered once his mirth ebbed. "I was hoping we could talk about something of a more… personal level."

Now that had Prowl frown slightly. "Alright." He set his datapad aside and knitted his fingers together. "How personal are we talking about?"

"Very," Jazz said, and he decided that it was now or never. "Prowl, do you like me?"

Prowl blinked several times, then a small smile flickered on his lip components. "Of course I do, Jazz."

The saboteur shook his head mentally. "I'm not talking about that kind of like, Prowl."

Prowl's smile wavered quite visibly. "Are you asking me if I'm attracted to you?"

"Pretty much," Jazz answered.

The smile faded completely and Jazz winced to see Prowl's features slipping into that expressionless mask behind which the tactician always hid when cornered. The saboteur had hoped that Prowl would never hide from him in such a way. Perhaps starting such a conversation hadn't been such a good idea, after all.

"What if I say I am?"

Jazz was sure he hadn't heard right. "Come again?"

Prowl looked straight in Jazz's visor, past the thin piece of glass and into the saboteur's optics. "What if I say I am?"

Jazz saw the question for what it was, an opening, and he seized his opportunity. "Then it would be pretty convenient, since I'm attracted to you, too."

"Ah." Prowl's optics brightened just a bit. "I was hoping you were."

Jazz felt like his jaw would drop on the spot. "Hoping? You've gotta be kiddin' me!"

Prowl raised an optic ridge. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Wrong…? Well, not really, but…" Jazz sighed. "Prowl, I've been flirting with you from Day One! Are you telling me you never realized that?"

Prowl made a small shrugging motion. "Depends on what I was supposed to notice."

Jazz stared at the tactician, feeling quite affronted. "Prowl, trust me, if there was a list on how to have the object of your affections notice you, you would have also seen a little tick next to them with my name on it."

"Really?" Prowl said, seeming more than just amused as he stood up and walked up to Jazz. "Because I'm certain there's something you didn't do."

"Oh? Such as?" Jazz asked, crossing his arms in a defensive manner.

Prowl didn't answer, not in words anyway. Before Jazz knew what was happening, the tactician had dived forward with the confidence and grace of a bird of prey, capturing the saboteur's lips with his own in a kiss that was all Prowl. Firm, strong, undemanding and yet leaving no doubt as to the emotions behind it. It overwhelmed the saboteur, who could do nothing else but accept the kiss, all the while trying to control the wild fluttering in his spark. All his apprehension and nervousness was gone, replaced with something both amazing and wonderful.

The kiss ended almost as quickly as it had started, and Prowl drew back to look at Jazz. "Well?"

Jazz shut his optics for a brief moment, the sensation of Prowl's lips still lingering in his mouth. "Okay… I admit I didn't think of that."

"There's a reason I'm the tactician," Prowl pointed out, his smile broadening, and he headed for the exit. "Your move, Jazz. I'll be in the common room for a drink."

With that, the door closed with a loud hiss, but Jazz hardly paid heed to it. He just stayed where he was, a grin tugging on his lips as he basked at the warmth of contentment that surrounded him like a thermo-blanket.

That is, until Prowl's words hit him full force, snapping him out of his reverie. Let it be said that Jazz had never sprinted out of a room that fast in his life.

The End