Author's Note: XD I'm alive! hehehe... I just wanted to put something up tonight! And I remembered someone requested that I write up the little interaction between Prowl, Jazz and Optimus's Desk. ENJOY! XD

I'm not dead... not dead... *dies*

Disclaimer: Own nothing *grins* but the desk!

"This is extremely..."

"Risqué?" Jazz smirked, lips twitching upwards at the corners as he lightly trailed one hand slowly over the curve of one doorwing, loving the way the limb twitched and fluttered slightly under his touch. "That's the whole point, Prowler." Tugging the warm metal out and down, he slipped in close, his body sliding teasingly between the sensitive doorwings, practically rubbing himself against Prowl's back.

"Questionable." Beautiful optics flickered slightly, fingers curling into fists as everything inside of him shuddered with the first jolts of desire. How was it that this mech could so easily draw him into a world of fantasies with just a few touches? Every inch of his frame throbbed, reminding him that Jazz was pressed against his back, purring like a kitten and wearing a grin that would put Sunstreaker to shame. "It is not logical to conduct ourselves in such a manner in..." Another hiss of pleasure was torn from him when fingers slipped under white and black armour, knowing exactly the right spots to coax a few more heated jolts of pleasure up into his systems. "... In Prime's office. I will not act in such a manner."

"So? He won't know..."

"You are impossible." Carefully setting down the completed datapads on the edge of the Prime's wide desk, his entire body jolted hard as Jazz suddenly threw his weight against Prowl's back, half slamming the mech against the edge of it. The impact knocked the wind out of him and his entire body went sprawling forwards across the desk, his doorwings flaring out in a moment of panic as he was face down against the hard surface.

A mouth feathered across the sensitive spot just between the trembling doorwings, a glossa flickering over the sensitive metal struts, taking his time as he just watched the slender body arch off the desk at the contact. "Yah leave meh no choice."

Prowl's hands scrapped against the metal, his entire frame shuddered abruptly, fingers scraping and attempting to find some kind of purchase on the surface as his optics flared wide when that mouth slowly trailed down over sensitive spinal plating. Two hands caught his doorwings, cupping where they met his body and applied a rather sensual pressure to them, thumbs stroking back and forth at the connection between doorwing and body.

Jazz was almost rough, physically forcing Prowl into submission across the desk, but it was a rather large turn on for the black and white mech who groaned and hissed out a few words that made Jazz's grin even wider. Prowl couldn't find any kind of traction on the surface, his pedes sliding against the flooring, his hips riding the edge of the desk. The warm thighs of his lover brushed against the back of his own as hips met aft, grinding forwards, rocking and forcing the Tactician's down, increasing the friction against heated plating.

"Please..." Almost whimpering, his optics flared wide, entire frame shuddering with the burning heat that coiled its way from overheating sensors to his spark, sending it into a mad pulse that almost drove him completely wild. "Stop..." It was his only protest, the other words dying on his lips, when Jazz's hands slipped downwards, shaping the curve of his back and aft, pinning his hips down.

A shriek of surprise escaped Prowl, blue optics flaring wide, barely able to contain the wild sounds that slipped out between suddenly dry lips. His fingers dug into the metal, trying to do something... anything to steady himself against the sensual assault as his rather intimate armour clattered to the floor and a mouth connected with the bundles of sensitive components, closing around them and biting down.

"Imagine if someone heard yah, Prowler." Jazz couldn't help himself, his entire body burned with desire, every part of him coiled tight with the satisfaction of bringing Prowl so much pleasure so quickly. "Heard yah screamin' like that," Licking his lips, droplets of lubricant clung to them, a few trailing down over his jaw, before he was lowering his head again, tasting the sweet addictive fluids. His palms rubbed against the back of Prowl's thighs, moving in slow circles that had those hips rocking backwards in response.

"Jazz." Prowl hissed in warning. Though anything else he had been about to say was drowned out by another scream of startled pleasure. His spark sputtered in his casing, responding quickly to the stimulation, arching and rocking backwards.

"Yah're addictive." Applying more pressure to a few sweet spots, Prowl was continuing to make half choked little whimpers, erotic pleas for Jazz to stop filling the air. However, both of them knew, Prowl didn't want Jazz to stop, that the black and white Tactician was physically able to push Jazz back, to restore some sense of dignity, but nothing was working. The Tactician couldn't convince himself to pull away from the contact, to stop the erotic encounter right there on Prime's desk.

Prowl was dangerously close to overload, his entire body straining with the burning tingles that arched upwards along limbs and made doorwings stand up almost vertical from the mech's back, flapping helplessly, the tips bouncing and trembling with the glorious fire that burned in his veins.

"Come for me."

And Prowl did as he was commanded, entire body seizing, hips arching backwards as he came so hard, his vision blurred, darkness invading his senses as he screamed his lover's name, barely able to keep himself together in the face of such raw pleasure.

The blackness swirled as he slowly became aware again, his body trembling with the raw feelings of his release. His senses were filled with the scent of his beloved Jazz, his bare aft pressed against a large chair, a weight settled across his lap and against his chassis. Lips parted as he groaned again, a mouth found his, a glossa sliding in and invading his own, sharing the taste of himself, erotic and strangely kinky given the situation.

"Now that was an overload..." Jazz crooned softly, nuzzling the curve of Prowl's throat, lapping over the warm metal, before lifting his head, green optics glittering with amusement at Prowl. "Yah so beautiful when yah get all worked up like that." Chasses rubbed together, metal against metal, a sensual mesh of bodies. "I want my overload too."

A shaky hand lifted, lightly touching the silvery helm, trailing his fingertips down across the warm surface, barely able to keep himself together instead of melting into the chair in the aftermath of... he didn't even want to find a name for what Jazz had just down to him. But the other mech was rubbing casings with him, their bodies coiled close and hot, both barely able to contain their mutual desire for the other.

"Submit." Jazz nipped at Prowl's audio, one hand pressing up between those doorwings, seeking out that one spot he knew that would guarantee and instant and overwhelming response from Prowl's systems. "Submit to me."

Chassis heaving, desperate to pull in cool air, the tactician couldn't resist, his body's last defence giving way and their sparks instantly tangled, a violent rush of heat and pleasure, scorching both from the inside out with the force of their emotions. It was sometimes like this, a rush of everything slamming through them, knocking down resistance and any other protests.

"I..." A hoarse sound was all Prowl could manage.

"Yah mine." Jazz practically snarled, their frames locked together with him straddling Prowl's lap as they sat in Prime's rather large chair beside the rather messed up desk.

Fingers flexed and pressed in hard, driving right for those spots and immediately a powerful surge of ecstasy exploded behind Prowl's optics, blinding him with the flash that took him down as the pleasure was shared this time, bouncing between them and growing with intensity. Their interfacing was almost painful, bodies scrapping hard, Jazz's weight attempting to keep Prowl's arching body down, hips grinding together in a sensual dance. Each spasm was accompanied by a husky croak that could have been a scream, Jazz pressing harder, driving them up and over into the well of bliss that streamed between their sparks.

Fire roared, rushed and swept up and over both of them, tearing them down and building them up again, only to claw at them, sparks mingled and surged, pulsing and throbbing as they clashed and raged within their locked casings. The empty office filled with the cries of a rather ardent pair of lovers until both crashed hard and heavy the force of their joining far too much for either of them to manage.

Prowl was the first to stir, his entire frame feeling as if someone had filled him with lead, his face buried against Jazz's throat, his overheated systems protesting any movement. Every component ached in a rather delicious fashion, his arm ever so slowly curved around Jazz's back, pulling his lover in closer and feeling the mech stir in response to the contact.

"What... was that?" Prowl shuddered slightly, attempting to work out just what had hit him.

"Hormones." Jazz quipped, purring happily against Prowl's helm, licking at an antenna lightly.

"We do not have hormones."

"Yah sure?"

"Right now... all I'm sure about is I can't walk."

"All Ah'm sure 'bout is yah bare aft is on Prime's chair and well... yah leakin' like..."

Prowl's blue optics narrowed slightly as he inhaled Jazz's scent again, attempting to calm his still pounding spark and throbbing systems. The aftershocks of his violent overload still playing through him. "Who do you think is cleaning it up?"

"Not me." Green optics sparkled. "Ah'm not the one... who's so wet..."

"Do not start." Prowl's head dropped back against the chair, letting out a groan as Jazz shifted in his lap. "I do not wish to think about this... especially not when Optimus is due back within minutes."

"Ah wonder what he would think of findin' us in his favourite chair?"

"JAZZ!"

"Love yah too, Prowler."

LOL bad little plot bunnies!