Author: gatekat and flybystardancer
Pairing: Jazz/Prowl (eventual)
Rating: NC-17 mech
Codes: AU, Slash, Slavery, Sticky, Masterbation
Summary: Jazz and Prowl wake up together for the first time.
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
Notes: klik = 1 minute; breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycles
::text:: comm chatter
Trials of an Ambassador 02: Waking with a Slave
Prowl was warm and comfortable when he started to boot up, with a light haze of pleasure coming from his wing panels. Humming contently, he stretched, only to halt when he became cognizant of the weight on his frame. Quickly powering up his optics, he saw that sometime during the night Jazz had moved to drape himself over Prowl's frame. Now the minibot was still in recharge and completely strutless, and Prowl could feel one of his hands idly stroking a wing panel.
It was a very pleasant sensation and confirmed what the silver mech had told him; Jazz was very affectionate. Apparently even in recharge.
On a normal morning back home, Prowl would have risen immediately from the berth to begin his day. However, at the look on Jazz's sleeping faceplates, he found himself pausing, reluctant to disturb him from his recharge.
A breem or two on one morning surely wouldn't hurt.
The mech's field when in deep recharge was pleasant. It meant that whatever Jazz's life had contained, he was *happy* overall, more than just content. Happy enough that when all his conscious guards were down, he was still pleasant to be with. His spark was content.
Captivated, Prowl continued his silent study. A small processing thread came up, wondering if Jazz had moved to his current position while he was awake or asleep. Prowl could not say either way at the moment, though it was obvious that the silver mech was quite comfortable laying on the Praxian.
It was only when Jazz shifted slightly in his recharge that Prowl realized that his interface panels - both hardline and penetrative - were still wide open, and the mech's spike was fully pressurized.
For a brief moment, Prowl's traitorous processors supplied him with the idea of wakening Jazz by touching and teasing the offered interface equipment. The black and white mech curbed that impulse, however. As lovely and tempting as the smaller mech was, Prowl wanted to get to know him and start developing a friendship before moving into a physical relationship. It was what he had done with the few lovers he'd had amongst his peers, and he saw no reason not to follow the same pattern with Jazz regardless of the differences in their social station.
With a small squirming movement, Jazz's systems began to power up towards consciousness. Well before the mech could be classified as booted up, the hand on Prowl's sensor wing became more purposeful, as was the recharge-lazy nuzzling of Jazz's helm against the seam of Prowl's chestplates. Prowl couldn't help a shudder at the flood of stimulation and finally reached up to carefully adjust the too-friendly hand to someplace a bit less sensitive. Part of his processor was quite relieved to meet no resistance, and that the stroking continued as Jazz finished booting.
"Morning, handsome," Jazz purred as he squirmed upwards to snatch a quick kiss.
"Good morning," Prowl replied, returning the kiss. "I take it you recharged well?" There was a tiny, amused twist to his lips.
"Mmm, yes," Jazz decided with a second kiss, this one a bit longer. "You?"
Prowl let him draw it out, one hand lightly touching the minibot's side. "Quite well. Though it is time to get up."
Jazz chuckled. "We've got a couple breems, but okay," he said amicably and shifted to get up. He finally closed all his interface ports, though his spike housing took a bit longer as he had to force it to depressurize and retract. "Shower and detailing?"
"Yes, please." Prowl stretched a bit as he got up, wings flaring out to their full extent before settling back into their normal position. He then turned and headed towards the private wash racks, with Jazz following.
The silver mech hummed happily as he overtook Prowl to set the luxurious room-shower to the correct temperature. "Lord Brightwing would like to meet you for breakfast at his palace," Jazz chatted easily, his role as an aid coming to the fore. "After that your orn is open to explore the city."
Prowl hummed as he stepped in. "Is there anything important I should keep in mind about Lord Brightwing? And I assume you will be my guide for the city."
"Arrogant, self-important, small processor," Jazz shrugged and picked up a washcloth to tend to the still-perfect finish of Prowl's back and sensor wings. "Standard noble. Just smile, nod and pretend to be interested in his prater and he'll like you. Yes, I'll be your guide ... and everything else you let me."
Prowl made a noise of acknowledgement to the information about Brightwing, fanning his wings so Jazz could reach every panel. "That will be nice." Once Jazz was done soaping up his back, he turned to allow the solvent to rinse it off. "If you want to take a bit of time for yourself at any point, just left me know. Do you have any family here?"
"None that'll admit to me," Jazz shrugged and went to work on Prowl's broad chest. "I was orphaned as a second stage sparkling. Only reason I survived was cause my carrier was one of Lord Blastoff's slaves, so he was already expecting to cover my upgrades and care until I could earn my keep."
"And no knowledge of who your sire could be?" Prowl made a sympathetic noise. While not acknowledging kin sometimes happened in Praxus, it was generally frowned upon and the standing of any family found to be doing so would take a hit. It was better to recognize ties to even an illegitimate creation and provide for it, for the creation's sake. "Do you have interests outside of your duties?"
Jazz shrugged. "Some guesses, sure, but no real idea, much less proof. She wasn't much on discussing it that I can remember, and no one would talk about it afterwards. Which all amounts to it probably not being another slave. There's no reason for a slave not to admit to being my sire. It's the carrier that determines the creation's status here unless the sire makes a legal point of claiming it.
"I have plenty of hobbies," Jazz shifted topics with a grin. "I love music, listening, performing, even writing it. I love to dance too, all kinds, but mostly sensual and club. But my favorite hobbies are socializing and dating. I don't like recharging alone."
"I would enjoy listening to you at some point," he replied as Jazz worked over the rest of his plating. "Is there anyone you are particularly close to at the moment?"
"Sure," Jazz's smile was brilliant and honest. "What kinds of music do you like best? I can do just about anything. I have a couple regular berthmates that could qualify as dating, but none I'm that serious about. They're good mechs, fun to be with and good 'faces, but not what I'm looking for in a permanent thing."
"Classical, modern interpretations of traditional Praxian songs, and..." Prowl looked a little embarrassed to be admitting the last type, "...love ballads."
Jazz brushed his field against Prowl, expressing his pleasure more effectively than words.
Giving himself a bit of a shake, he turned to Jazz. "Are you looking for a permanent partner?"
"Sort of," Jazz hedged. "I want that eventually, maybe even bond, but it's not easy to find someone who's interested and isn't out to just improve their status."
Prowl hummed his approval. "You deserve someone who wants you, rather than what you can provide."
"What about you?" Jazz shifted the focus. "What are you hoping for in a mate ... or were you promised to someone?"
"My creators have not arranged anything for me as of yet," Prowl replied as he gave thought to the first part of the question. "Someone who is intelligent, affectionate and interested in family."
Jazz nodded and smiled warmly, his field a bit wistful. "A carrier, sire or both?"
"I would be content with either." Prowl stepped over to the dryer as Jazz turned off the solvent shower.
"Maybe you'll find someone here," Jazz suggested, his field telling that he had no expectations of it being him. "There are plenty of unattached nobles of your status in the city."
"Perhaps," Prowl held no expectations either way when it came to finding a bondmate. "Like yourself, I have not had any relationships that were so series."
"Do you want me to present a few options while you are here?" Jazz offered, taking a polishing cloth to work on Prowl's finish while they were dried.
"I would not object, though I'm not actively looking at this point." Prowl held his limbs out, relaxing as Jazz worked his magic. He had to admit that the mech was skilled; he could form no complaints about his care so far.
"I'll see if anyone strikes me as a good match then, but not *look*," Jazz said easily. "I have to admit, you're very different from the previous ambassadors."
"In a good way?" Prowl did not particularly want to dig in the closets of his predecessors, but he was curious to how Jazz had been treated.
"Depends on your take," Jazz chuckled as he worked on Prowl's finish. "They were more than happy to take advantage of my welcome."
"Which do you prefer?" Prowl was a bit disturbed that his fellow Praxians would take such advantage of a mech without regret.
"Mmm, I enjoyed their first night more, but I think I like you better," Jazz decided after a moment. "I do enjoy interfacing more than the average mech around here."
Prowl smiled at the compliment, and chuckled softly at Jazz's last comment. "Feel free to try to convince me to interface sooner, if you so wish."
"Trust me," he leaned up to steal a kiss with a cheeky grin. "I intend to. I won't be getting much until then, after all."
Prowl returned the kiss. "I promise to make the wait worth it." He kissed Jazz again, his lips lingering as the small mech slid his arms around Prowl's neck and kissed back with full fervor and a heady moan. Jazz's field flared hot and ready, eager and aroused and oh so very ready.
"Mmm, you do run hot..." Prowl observed, his lips not leaving Jazz's, hands at the minibot's waist.
Jazz could only moan and press into the contact, his chassis trembling faintly in desire.
Prowl finally pulled his helm back, panting heavily. "I need to finish getting ready for breakfast."
"Sure you don't want to get off first?" Jazz shuddered, forcefully suppressing a whine of need and the bolder moves he wanted to commit. No matter what this mech said, Jazz couldn't allow himself to forget their real status. He could push, but if he ever upset this mech, it could be more than just his spark on the line.
"I'm sure, though you can deal with your own if you need to." Prowl loosened his hold on the silver mech. He winced internally at the surprise, then gratitude that flowed through Jazz's field as it separated and Jazz backed off a bit.
"You don't mind?" Jazz just had to be sure. Prowl wouldn't be the first mech he'd been given to who enjoyed the power games of arousal and denial.
"Not at all," Prowl confirmed, watching as Jazz stepped back to rest against the wall of the washrack and snapped his spike cover open.
With just a touch of show involved, Jazz's fingers closed around the pressurizing spike and began to stroke himself. A low, grateful moan of pleasure rumbled from Jazz's chassis as he tipped his helm back and allowed his mouth to fall slightly open.
Prowl watched appreciatively even as he put the finishing touches on his appearance. The silver mech certainly had no shame, and very much enjoyed showing his pleasure. Moans and gasps came quickly as fingers that clearly had plenty of experience worked Jazz to a quick, hard and very vocal overload.
One that had Jazz calling Prowls designation out as his silvery purple transfluid spurted from his spike to splatter on the floor.
Prowl's optics flickered in brief surprise that Jazz had called his designation in overload, still cycling air hard at the eroticism of the sight. If this was what Jazz did after less than a full orn, Prowl had doubts his will would last long if he was the primary focus of the deliciously exotic mech's attentions.
He did manage to find the focus to finish trying and polishing himself until Jazz recovered sufficiently to be coherent again. "You do not need to spend your nights with me," Prowl commented quietly when he was sure Jazz would understand him. "If there is someone else you would prefer to be with, I would not object."
"I might," the lithe mech mumbled as he gathered himself and tucked his spike away. "I'll miss you though."
"It would be impossible not to miss you," Prowl replied, surprising himself with how true it was despite the short time he had known Jazz. "My family's philosophy is that servants who are happy, who feel secure and appreciated, perform better. I do not wish for you to be unhappy, or feel deprived."
Jazz gave him a shaky smile as he stood more steadily. "I'm kinda used to being deprived on this count," he said with a rueful smile. "Systems run too hot for anybody to keep up with me."
Prowl slowly approached, tenderly cupping Jazz's cheek in one hand. "That does not make it right for me to exacerbate it."
"Thank you," Jazz leaned into the touch, his field showing as clearly as his frame that he'd calmed down for now.
It was enough for Prowl to be curious though. "Just now hot do you run?"
A rueful smile crossed Jazz's features. "Morning and evening at least, usually a couple times during the orn too. Most commissioned pleasure slaves aren't that high maintenance."
Prowl chuckled softly at that smile, just barely restraining himself from leaning in to kiss it off. "Impressive." The traitorous part of his processors, the part that was continually urging to indulge in what Jazz offered, was quietly pointing out that he had the stamina to match such desires even if he didn't run so hot himself.
"Are all expected to be with their masters while their masters are having social visits? Like you were last night at dinner?"
"It depends on the master," Jazz answered smoothly, still very willing to have his cheek cupped in Prowl's hand. "I should be with you for the first few decaorns though, or Lord Blastoff might think that you aren't happy with me, or I'm not doing my duties showing you around and introducing you to the other Lords."
Prowl hummed an acknowledging note and leaned in to whisper softly in Jazz's audio, "I would not object to being thought of as a voyeur here if the charge becomes too much and you need to relieve yourself."
A small whimper and shiver of desire escaped Jazz as his field reached out to Prowl. "I will enjoy indulging that permission," he purred, leaning into the touch.
Prowl chuckled again and placed a kiss on the front of Jazz's helm. "I expect you will." He checked his chronometer and straightened. "We should leave if we're to meet Lord Brightwing on time."
"Yes, of course," Jazz nodded, pulling himself together and shifting his manner slightly to match what the outside world expected of him. "If you'll follow me, master."