Chirrrrp.

Warning for sticky UvU

Units of time as I use them:

Klick – a second

Breem – a minute

Joor – an hour

Cycle – a day

Decacycle – 10 days

Groon – a month

Orn – a decade

Vorn – a century

{bond chatter}

::Comm. chatter::

True to his word, Smokescreen was waiting for me.

When I sat down he took out a box from his subspace and leaned towards me, hands clasped together with a mischievous glint in his optics.

"Prowl is going to kill me." He said as he opened it and took out its contents. "I'll go over the basics of card-based games again as a refresher and then I'll start teaching you some other tricks and how to play poker, okay?"

"Why's Prowler gonna kill ya?" I asked, nodding to show that I'd understood.

"Enforcers. They have a thing about gambling. The fact I've taught you, his intended to gamble? Scandalous. He wont speak to me for decacycles."

"He won't if he doesn't find out."

Smokescreen grinned at me. "I like the way you think."

"Many do."

The next few Joors were spent with me and my pitiful attempts at playing poker. I was apparently getting better at it, but I had yet to last longer than ten breems. It certainly beat my five breems, however. Servers came with energon at midcycle and took the empty cubes away a Joor later.

Every so often I could feel a prickling feeling on my upper back, as if I were being watched. Whenever I turned around I could see a shadow in one of the windows on the top floor, but they quickly vanished. I couldn't think of who it could be. They were too thin to be Lord Smokescreen – no offence to him – and it wasn't any of the serving staff. They weren't allowed on the top floor.

I decided to ignore it and think about it later. Maybe Prowl would know?

Thinking about Prowl made me suddenly realise that we hadn't spoken at all. Usually there'd be at least one comm. at night before he went to recharge. I told myself that it was because he was busy or it might compromise us, but there was a nagging at the back of my mind about the reason he was there in the first place. I immediately crushed that thought down. That wouldn't happen again. Not so soon and in the same place.

Aaaaand now for round two of 'Jazz vs. gambling'! Will Jazz last longer than his record-smashing five breems?

Prooooobably not!

Smokescreen seemed to be rather optimistic anyway, insisting that even if my gameplay wasn't up to par, my poker face was one to die for. Even if my hand was atrocious I'd still be sitting there with a massive grin plastered on my face.

I wasn't surprised to see Amidon already waiting for us with highgrade. He'd bought the same drinks as last night, and was already lazily sipping on his own. The blue glow of it reflected off his chassis which looked liquid, as if it had recently been polished. His doorwings were fanned out almost lazily, their dark blue colour almost black in the dim lighting.

Amidon was the kind of mech who was never late and was incredibly cautious, making sure he knew where his boundaries lay and not trying to push them. He'd slowly edge them to where he wanted them to be.

We were soon joined by Bonecrusher, who settled into his seat between Smokescreen and Amidon, and we began.

Much to the surprise of myself and everyone around me, I played relatively well. I lasted much, much longer than I had when it was just me and Smokescreen, however I suspected that it was because they were going easy on me. For that I was somewhat grateful, as the other night the other nobles and high-class were finding me to be their source of entertainment.

My small victory was short lived, and I lasted a grand total of twenty breems. The result of 'Jazz vs. gambling' was a yes, Jazz will last longer. Smokescreen was impressed and ordered another round of highgrade to celebrate my 'victory'.

I spent the rest of the night watching them and seeing which moves to make and which moves to not make. I felt myself gradually starting to learn and get more confidence.

The night ended in the same way – Smokescreens staggering victory – and we returned home. Smokescreen extended the same offer again (apparently Bonecrusher had a few days off work which was why they were cashing in and spending as much time together as possible) and I accepted again.

So, cycle nineteen of my stay in Praxus was spent learning how to play poker against three masterminds. Yet again.

I was starting to lose hope at seeing Prowl before I left – no comm. to say if he'd be back in time, no message from anyone else and I was leaving tomorrow afternoon. Even if he did return by tomorrow morning, there wouldn't be enough time for us to actually do anything. He'd have to report to his Sire, which always took joors, and then I'd be occupied making sure everything was sorted for me to go back to Polyhex.

I sighed wistfully as I absently traced patters in the wax I was applying to myself. I'd decided to make myself look extra shiny and liquid today, hoping that it'd last long enough so that I didn't have to spend quite as long making myself up for my return home. The reporters would be a nightmare.

At the same time as the previous nights, I met Smokescreen in the grand hall before we left to meet Amidon and Bonecrusher in Prax. Today there was a slight change in plan where the other three wanted to dance instead of sitting in a secluded corner gambling like usual, and I was happy to comply. If Prowl saw me, I was certain that he'd have a spark attack.

What? I was enjoying my last cycles as a free mech. He could brutally dismember the mechs later. While Smokescreen was being the social butterfly he was, dancing with everyone and everything, Amidon and Bonecrusher had elected to stick together. As I looked at them from over my cube, I noted that they looked relatively cute together. While Bonecrusher looked like a nasty piece of work that had seen his fair share of fights – mostly being the one who had started them in the first place – Amidon looked graceful and gentle (which he admittedly was). He moved like the liquid he had buffed his armour to mimic, while Bonecrusher was heavy footed like the fighter he most likely was.

I double took as I noticed that there was an emblem on Bonecrushers forearm. How did I not notice it before? It was the same black shield with a golden P on the front as the one that was on the door to Amidon's house. I concentrated more on Amidon to see if I could see it anywhere on him. Given his dark paintjob, it was difficult in the dim lighting, however when a strobe light passed over him I spotted it on his shoulder. What was this emblem for? Was it some kind of VIP for Prax? If so, what were they doing in a normal floor like this one?

My questioning was short lived when Smokescreen leaned against the bar next to me, breathing heavily. He'd obviously been dancing for a while now.

"Havin' fun?" I asked, gesturing for the bar tender to come over. Smokescreen ordered and nodded.

"It's refreshing. I haven't been able to dance like this for groons."

"Job stoppin' ya?"

"You could say that."

I nodded thoughtfully, empathising with him. My role as a noble sometimes stopped me from being able to do what I loved. Pit, I hadn't sung in decacyles. The moment I was back in Polyhex nothing would stop me. Nothing.

I stifled a yawn as I checked my internal chronometer. It was getting late, and I was tired. There was still a little light outside, so as long as I was quick I wouldn't have a problem getting through the crystals. I bid farewell to him, telling him that I was getting tired and I should probably get some sleep before my way back tomorrow, before deciding to not try to find the other two in the throng of mechs and femmes, and then leaving.

I curled up in my berth, Prowl's pillow hugged tightly to my chassis. My last night wasn't as glamorous as I had originally hoped it would be. I was about to offline my optics to prepare myself for recharge when my comm. went off.

I nearly launched myself at the door when I saw who had sent the message.

Prowler!

I excitedly opened it and tried my hardest to not start bouncing around on the berth. It was a simple message that was composed of three words.

::Open the door::

I wasn't about to hesitate in complying. I quickly opened the door to find –

Nothing.

Nobody was there.

'Confused' didn't quite cover it. I was about to dejectedly close the door when I noticed something on the floor.

I knelt down to pick it up. It was a small box with an engraving of something that looked decidedly organic – I think it was called a flower? - on the top. I looked at the bottom and saw something that was usually on the bottom of musical boxes to wind them up.

Could this be what I thought it was?

Only one way to find out. I undid the latch and carefully opened it. It was a musical box all right. I instantly recognised the tune it was playing as the one Rhythm would sing to me and the one I was humming while rubbing salve onto Prowls doorwings. How did he even remember it?

::Here. Now.:: I immediately . I heard laughter behind me and I whirled around to face an amused Prowl.

I immediately closed the door. It wouldn't do to be caught this early on, would it now? Not even giving him the chance to collect himself, I pounced and tackled him to the floor.

Using his shoulders for balance, I pressed my lips against his. Prowls hands found themselves pressed against my back, pulling me towards him. I gasped when they ran over a sensitive area and melted against him as he continued to run his hands over it. Oh that monster, he knew what he was doing!

I was, regardless, incredibly glad to have Prowl back. I pressed a line of kisses down to his throat cables, where I started to nuzzle and nibble them. Prowl heavily exhaled and the hand that wasn't tormenting me reached up to pull my helm closer.

"Miss me?" he whispered into my audial, sending a shudder straight down my back struts.

"Lots 'n' lots."

"Glad to hear it." Prowl replied as he gently started to sit up, me straddling his lap. "We should go to recharge. Stop us from doing anything we may regret."

"Aww Prowler~!" I whined, dancing my fingers over his transformation seams, "Don't be a spoilsport!"

Prowl bit down on his bottom lip and his grip tightened fractionally, but he quickly released his hold on me and stopped chomping on himself. "No. Recharge now."

Pouting, I stood up and closed the musicbox. I placed it on the table by the door as I passed it and suddenly remembered the book file I had gotten from Amidon. I reached into my subspace and extracted it before handing it to Prowl.

"Welcome back, lover."

As he onlined it, I walked back to my berth and hopped on top of it, watching Prowl to see what his reaction would be. After a few klicks of him being completely still, he slowly looked up to face me. His optics were a few shades darker than usual and were half lidded.

We couldn't interface – not until we'd bonded, at least – due to traditions. We'd already mangled a large number of them through courting each other alone and sharing comm. numbers was considered a massive taboo. Breaking this one wouldn't be a very nice looking mark on our records.

But if those weren't bedroom eyes I didn't know what they were, and I was eager to find out just how far he was willing to go.

I suggestively opened my legs and beckoned him forwards with a single digit. Within seconds he was pressing himself against me, glossa invading my mouth and his hands roaming, tracing over paths where they had travelled before. I moaned into his mouth, reciprocating as best as I could. I gently ran a hand across the length of a doorwing, and he moaned. It was a deep, rich and delicious sound that I hoped I'd be hearing lots of in the future.

He broke the kiss and started to press kisses along my neck, caressing the metal there. "I don't want you to go" He admitted between the kisses. I felt my spark twinge slightly. I didn't want to go either, but I had to.

"Ah'll be back before you know it." I replied, kissing his chevron.

"Not soon enough."

"Ah'll make it up to ya" I murmured, giving him a sultry look. His engine purred and he wrapped his arms around me, causing our hips to grind together in a way that sent a jolt of pleasure right up my back struts. Wanting more of that sensation, I hooked my legs over his hip plating.

"What are you doing?"

"Jus' roll wit' it" I replied, rolling my hips so they ground against Prowls. We both gasped at the sensation, and Prowl began moving back against me. The sensations were exploding over my neural net, and with a click both of our panels opened.

My spike extended alongside his and we both gasped as they rubbed together. Prowls doorwings twitched like they did when he was planning something, and he reached between us, wrapping a hand around both of our lengths, causing them to grind together. I barely held back a moan, Primus this was indescribable. He gently began to rock his hips, creating delicious friction that reduced me to a babbling mess within moments.

"Prowler" I moaned, starting to rock my hips with his. He appeared to enjoy the gesture as he released a breathy groan, his optics dimming in lust. This felt incredible, why hadn't we thought of it before? There was no way to check at all. Despite that, there was still a nagging feeling at the back of my mind.

"Are we allowed ta do this?" I panted, coherent thought starting to become difficult. Prowls doorwings twitched downwards.

"No" He began, hips jerking slightly with a grunt as transfluid began to leak from the tip of his spike, "however there is no way to prove that we did or did not."

I nodded, succumbing to the sensation of our equipment rubbing together with the knowledge that this was forbidden – which makes everything ten times hotter – and I moaned, transfluid starting to dribble down my own length. Prowls hand smeared it around, creating an easier glide and Prowl began to rock his hips even faster.

Our lips locked together again, fitting together oh so perfectly, glossas tangling together.

I never wanted this moment to end, my hands gripping onto his plating as I felt the tension that had built between my legs about to break. When he broke the kiss and began to nibble on my bottom lip, the tension snapped and I overloaded with a loud cry, transfluid spurting from the tip of my spike and dribbling down Prowls hand. I distantly heard Prowl following me.

He collapsed down next to me, panting heavily, smile on his face.

I love his smile.

I held his clean hand, shuttering my visor. We both lay there, listening to the others intakes beginning to settle, bathing in the afterglow.

"We should wash this off" Prowl murmured, gesturing to our lower bodies. I internally cringed – we were both stained with evidence, some of which was already starting to dry. If one looked closely, they'd see paint transfers.

"Later" I mumbled, shuffling closer to him and burrowing my face into his shoulder. I was going to enjoy my last moments with him, fraggit! We could spend at much time as we liked cleaning ourselves in the morning. Prowl sighed and adjusted his hold on me so that one arm was thrown lazily over me. "Your call." He quietly replied before relaxing.

I had the sticky scene written back when I first started writing this and NOW I FINALLY GET TO USE IT. Christ almighty.

I'msorryifthatisn'taccurateIdon'thavethosepartsI'm alady

This chapter turned out a lot longer than it was meant to I'm sorry ;A;

Super duper quick update because some of it was already written and my internet went down, leaving me unable to do my coursework (welp) so what's a girl to do?

~Llama