Grasping a Chance 11: A Minor Celebration
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Jazz was in the washrack, relieved to be cleaning up after the last penalty shift Wing's punishment. The white jet was washing up next to him when he suddenly perked up.

"Hay Jazz, it turns out there are a few mecha in the city that know how to program stim-sticks and the like."

The comment was rather unexpected, and it took a moment to register. Jazz paused in his scrubbing, looking at Wing with a rather surprised expression. "You actually looked into it?"

"Of course," the young Knight seemed surprised at the idea that he might not have. "You're right. I should know where the problems come from internally. It just took a long time to track down anybody who knew, and was willing to tell me anything."

"So are they going to try to do anything about it?" Jazz asked, just curious. There was a warm edge to his field, directed towards Wing and the fact that the Knight had taken him seriously and not the topic being discussed.

"They can't, not really," Wing shook his helm. "None of it's illegal to produce, possess or use. It's only wrong to commit a crime while intoxicated. Same laws as for high grade."

"Ah, makes sense." Jazz admitted, scrubbing off the last of the grime from the work orn and stepping under the hot solvent spray with a sigh of utter contentment. "Why so reluctant to talk to you then?"

Wing chuckled a bit in self-deprecation. "Knights have a well-deserved reputation for being a bit on the zealous side of anti-intoxication. The stuff is legal, but it's not that acceptable in most circles."

Jazz had to chuckle a bit at that too. "I can see where they are coming from." He said as he stepped out from under the spray and turned it off. Drops of the solvent splattered everywhere from a shiver that ran the length of Jazz's frame.

"Do we have plans for the evening?"

"Refueling with Thorn and Prowl, then an evening together?" Wing suggested a common plan.

"Good plan." Jazz agreed, field lifting a little at the mention of energon and good company. "Maybe we can do something besides getting stomped in a game by Prowl."

Wing laughed brightly as they moved to dry off. "Let's see if we can convince Prowl to watch some new vid if you're plugged in to give him the social cliff notes?"

"I think he might be agreeable to that." The purr in Jazz's voice revealed just how agreeable he found the suggestion as well. "I'm sure that you have something lying around that he hasn't been subjected to yet."

The jet giggled, his field bright and light in his mirth. "Always. I pick something up more nights than not that you're in Prowl's room." He turned the blower off and regarded Jazz. "Want a bit of a dry-polishing to look good for him tonight?"

There was a klik of hesitation before Jazz nodded in agreement. While it was something that he would normally bother with, it was something that Prowl would notice and might appreciate. "Would you like the same?" Jazz offered in return, a social norm of favor for favor that he had picked up on very quickly, and one that actually did make sense to him. It wasn't unusual for a mech to offer because they wanted one and it was considered more polite than asking for a favor.

Wing gave a happy trill and pulled out a dry-polish cloth and wax from his subspace and motioned for Jazz to turn around so he could start on his back. "It's a night to celebrate a little. Our punishment is over."

"Very true." Jazz purred in agreement as he leaned into the touch, enjoying the attention. They settled into a familiar, comfortable silence as Wing worked, then Jazz returned the favor. Despite the intricate frames, it didn't take them long. They were both familiar with the other's frame and how to give the light polishing.

"Ready?" Wing looked at his charge after they both checked themselves over in the mirrors of the final room.

Jazz had to laugh as he nodded. "All this fuss over energon and a movie in your quarters." He commented, light tone taking any sting out of the words or phrasing. It was just something that he never thought he would care about, and extreme from the way he had grown up.

"Sometimes making a fuss over nothing important is rejuvenating," Wing grinned at him with complete understanding. "There's no shame in wanting to look good for a mecha you're hoping to spend the night with, even if you're already lovers."

"Going to try and convince Thorn he wants to stay for the night, or do you have your optics set on someone else?" Jazz asked as they walked to the common room, field light and full of life even after the long orn.

"Thorn," Wing snickered as they walked towards the primary common room. "Someone else is for the nights you're at his place. One of us has to be aware enough to listen for you, and it's not me after a good 'face."

"I've been good." Jazz pointed out quietly, field dimming just a little. Though part of the reason for that had been Prowl. It was odd, the different edge to the pleasure they were sharing each orn now that it was something that they wanted, and not a cover-up or something that Prowl had to have to keep him sane that nanoklik.

"Yes, as has Prowl," Wing sighed. "Thorn and I trust you, because we understand what caused the deviation. Redline trusts you because he trusts his own skill. But no one else does yet, and we are checked on. Or rather, Thorn and I are checked on. If one of us doesn't respond fast enough, we'll face another penance, even if both of you are exactly where you should be. So at least one of us in the quarters has to be reactive enough to respond. We really don't want to lose the few privileges we've been granted, to you or us."

"And poor Thorn is stuck with being the responsible party." Jazz said, sure that the other Knight didn't mind. The Knights knew themselves and each and other well enough to keep relationships on all levels running smoothly.

"He'll get a good 'face out of it," Wing grinned at him, his optics glittering. "But you know I'm almost in stasis after a good overload. If we fool around, it has to be him."

"True enough. Get your energon?" Jazz offered as they entered the main common room, spotting the out of they way place that Thorn and Prowl had settled in, their usual. Thorn had already spotted them and waved them over. Prowl's greeting was typically subdued, but Jazz saw the welcome in it when he looked up.

"Thank you," Wing's field brushed against Jazz's in a silent reiteration of his trust before he walked to the table, leaving Jazz to get the energon for them. Though it could be seen as Jazz being submissive, all four involved knew it was an act of trust with deep resonance for Jazz. Unsupervised, he could do so many things, but his keeper trusted him not to.

It was the work of a few klik to gather two cubes of energon, one of the higher energy grade that suited Wing's systems and a cube of the milder variety that powered Jazz's just fine. After a moment of hesitation Jazz selected a small cube of moderate high grade with several additives and subspaced it for later.

"Good orn?" He asked, addressing Thorn and Prowl both as he took a seat and passed Wing his energon.

"Well enough. I've caught up some in my studies during the time that I've had to accompany Prowl to his office when he has to go in." Thorn said, field stretching out in welcome to brush against Jazz's.

"It will be good when Thorn no longer has penalty duties," Prowl added. "Those and my duties make for a long orn for him, and a dull one for me. Though the company is an improvement over the office."

"At last there are some good points." Jazz said, field full of sympathy for them both. "Going to celebrate when it is over?"

"Definitely," Thorn lifted his cube to take a sip. "It'll be a good night for us all. It's been ages since I pulled penalty shifts for any length of time."

"Sounds like big plans." Jazz teased.

"He has dragged me into it," Prowl said with quiet mirth before sipping his energon. "I have rarely done small, as you know."

"Oh?" Jazz's visor lit up. "Do tell."

Prowl grace him with a small smile that was only ever for Jazz. "You know you have to earn that," he teased, though his tone was almost perfectly flat. The performance earned a snicker from Wing and a low chuckle from Thorn.

"Oh, a challenge." Jazz purred, visor flaring in return. "I think I can manage something that will make you spill."

"You are always welcome to try," Prowl's droll tone belied the glitter of his optics.

"I don't think anyone's watching the vid tonight," Wing snickered.

"Wing and I thought that a vid might be more fun that the three us sitting around while Prowl flattens us in a game without even straining himself." Jazz explained to Thorn, even though his gaze never wavered from where it met Prowl's.

"It will make a nice change of pace," Prowl consented with only a faint hint of how much he enjoyed trouncing them all without really trying.

"Okay, so what kind of porn do we want on for background encouragement?" Wing asked cheerily.

"Does it really matter?" Thorn asked as he finished off his cube. "Like you said, no one is going to be paying attention anyway. Unless you have found something new."

"New as in new participants, though it's a basic hardline-penetrative combo with spark foreplay," Wing flicked his wings and worked on his cube. "You know my tastes."

Thorn and Jazz both chuckled at that, well aware of the white Knight's tastes, as Wing pointed out. "No worries then." Jazz said, finished his energon as well and settling back in his seat until the others were done. It wasn't a surprise that Wing and Prowl took longer. When Prowl wasn't in mission mode set on doing he actually liked to take his time with energon, something that surprised Jazz when he'd first noticed. Wing, well, the white jet liked to enjoy every moment possible.

It wasn't long though when they all had something to look forward to. As Prowl dispersed his empty cube they stood, and Jazz took note of how in synch they were. That Wing and Thorn could move as one wasn't a surprise given how long they'd been sparring together. Jazz knew they he'd timed himself to Prowl some time ago. The four of them, that was rather new.

It didn't go unnoticed in the room either. Normally so many optics on him when he wasn't trying to attract attention would have Jazz twitching, but this time it just made him smile and walk a little closer to Prowl, his field reaching out to twine with the other mechs', rich with affection. It lightened his spark at how easily Prowl's affection was returned this way. It wasn't physically demonstrative the way Jazz craved, but it was rich with the honesty that was very hard to fake.

Wing had been right. Loyalty, affection, desire; whatever they chose to call this thing between him and Prowl, it was real, it was solid and it would endure beyond the first offer Prowl received from another.

They remained quiet for the walk, Prowl only speaking after the door closed. "You're thoughtful."

Jazz's gaze swept the other mech up and down before he answered. "Thinking about you." He said, honest.

Prowl gave him another of those small smiles and leaned in to kiss him lightly. "Good things, from the teek of it."

"How strong and handsome you are." Jazz murmured, lips brushing Prowl's. "How good being with you feels. Hope that this good thing will last."

Each word said quietly, filled with honest fear and hope.

Strong, dark hands slid along his sleek frame as Prowl drew him close and into another kiss. "It will last," Prowl promised as only he could. Not a promise of emotion or intent, but one born of planning and a processor set capable of running a city.

It a way that was calming to Jazz, more sure than any other promise could be, and he pressed into the kiss as his field reached out to wrap around Prowl in a deep welcome full of desire that he felt returned in full measure.

When the kiss finally broke, Prowl was already backing them towards Jazz's room. "Forget the vid," he rumbled, hungry in a way he rarely was. Happy laughter followed them all the way to the room, Jazz smiling at the clear expression of their keepers' amusement and approval.

"No objections here. Wasn't really planning to watch it anyway." Jazz admitted, fingers brushing over Prowl's frame questioningly, traveling from dataport down chest seam to hips and interface covers.

"No one was," Prowl nuzzled him before kissing down Jazz's throat. His spike cover slid open, though the spike remained in place. "Perhaps something new?"

Jazz's entire frame quivered, field flaring with yes-please-want, though his voice remained surprisingly steady. "If it will please you too. Know that you've always seemed to prefer your valve." He'd never bothered to ask why, mostly content so long as Prowl was.

"Because it is far less work," Prowl actually chuckled and gave him a light kiss on the nose. "Most just wanted to get off, and it is so much easier for me to lay back and let them than to work at it." His voice dropped to a sultry purr. "You're worth the effort."

The tone of that voice had Jazz shivering again, valve cover sliding open without any more encouragement. "Please?" He asked quietly.

"Yes," Prowl kissed him hotly again and turned them around so Jazz would lay on the berth, guiding him down and settling above him. "I enjoy your pleasure."

The mech beneath him stretched out on the berth, legs spreading in invitation and frame angled to be attractive as the field already twined with his sang of trust and desire. "Just leave me enough energy to please you as well?" Jazz asked.

"I will," Prowl promised as he kissed his way down his lover's frame. Each motion was precise, calculated. It was like their first interface in many ways. Prowl knew technical details, but not how to translate that to passion, not even his definition of passion. It took him time and experience to grasp such variation.

Every motion and bit of attention was encouraged though, soft sounds greeting each touch and stronger flares of pleasure around hips and thighs spiking with each touch that did more for Jazz then merely feel good. It made him feel wanted, desired, worth more than what he could buy with his services.

It wasn't long before Prowl's hands slid between Jazz's legs to caress the inside of his hip joints and the lower array, his thumbs sliding along the outer edge of the ring of platelets surrounding his valve.

A soft gasp and a rise of Jazz's hips met the touch, slick lubricant already shimmering on the platelets and transferring to Prowl's thumbs. "Please." Jazz asked again, wanting this so badly, from the first time they had interfaced because they had wanted to and not because they needed to.

"Never beg, not of me," Prowl trilled. "I won't leave you needing," he promised as he shifted up Jazz's frame and kissed him soundly. With one knee braced against the soft flier-grade berth Prowl pressed the tip of his spike against the platelets, then deeper, gradually spreading Jazz's valve open.

"Prowl." Jazz moaned, valve rippling and squeezing around the invading spike, waves of welcome and pleasure caressing Prowl through joined fields. Pleasure, the desire to give, flared back. It was such a different kind of pleasure than what Jazz was feeling, but after more than two vorns in the mech's berth, he understood it fully. This was passion and deep affection to Prowl, the desire to give without receiving in return. The willingness to make an effort that took more energy than it returned. It was as high on the list of sacrifices Prowl could make without having to seriously struggle against his coding as anything they'd encountered.

Jazz could top, could lead and dominate. Especially when it seemed to please Prowl so, willing to do anything for the other mech. But underneath, in the part of him long buried from outside optics, Jazz craved the gentle attention of another's care. Of attention offered because the other wanted to give, and only wished the pleasure of the one receiving in return.

What Prowl was giving now, so willing, went straight to Jazz's spark.

The Praxian paused when he felt himself seated fully inside his lover and relaxed, nuzzling Jazz's neck before his hips drew back, slowly and measured, learning as he moved.

"Yes." Jazz moaned again, encouraging as his valve squeezed down, protesting the loss of sensation from being stretched and filled. There were other mecha that could have done this for him, who likely would have been more than willing to spike him. But none of them were Prowl, and it was only to Prowl that Jazz had trusted with this.

"So tight," Prowl gasped as he pressed in again, genuinely surprised by the sensation.

"New." Jazz whispered, gazing up at Prowl. "You're the first." He said, shivering with each sensor node that was set off in the valve lining, squeezing down around that Prowl's spike and thankful for the some of the extravagant detail that seemed so common to him in the city.

"Why? You like to touch so much," Prowl moaned softly as he set the rhythm intended to bring Jazz to overload slowly.

"Wanted you." Jazz said, reaching up and tracing Prowl's helm before catching the other mech in a gentle kiss. Maybe it seemed silly. It was certainly not logical. But it was the truth, and there was something deeper here for Jazz than mere pleasure or companionship. "Trust you."

Prowl's field flared bright and hot in a conflagration of surprise, humble honor and joy. He kissed Jazz again and focused on getting the roll and thrust of his hips just right to bring the most pleasure to the mech under him. The attention left the mech beneath him shuddering and keening. Each motion of Prowl's hips striking multiple nodes in succession. The perfect amount of pressure against the cluster of nodes at the top of his valve, almost pain but not quite. Things that it would have taken most lovers multiple encounters to discover, analyze and implement were already being tweaked to perfection.

"Prowl." He moaned again. "So good, so good." Hands dropped to the berth, digging into the thick padding to ground his frame as his hips rolled up into each motion.

"Good," Prowl's voice hummed and vibrated against jazz's throat. "Want it to be good. Want you to want me."

"Always want you." Jazz whispered, not sure why or why he was so sure of this fact, but his field rang with his conviction as his valve clamped down around Prowl's spike and he howled in overload, letting go with complete trust as he did with no one else.

Prowl continued to thrust, the max charge his frame permitted allowing him to remain completely focused even in the face of the energy leaping to him from Jazz. It felt good, he was coming to enjoy pleasuring Jazz more than made sense. All that was shoved back as he focused on continuing to rock his hips to draw out Jazz's overload and let him down gently, slowly, the pleasure continuing to crackle for more than a full klik.

Under him Jazz's frame slowly relaxed, vents spilling hot air over Prowl and the berth as they worked to cool the heated frame. Jazz's visor flickered as it came back online slowly, processor following as it tried to work through the most intense valve overload he had ever experienced. "Wow." he finally managed, one hand reaching up to shakily draw Prowl down into a kiss. "Do that again some time?"

"Just ask," Prowl promised into the kiss. "Anytime you want."