A collection of oneshots from G1, Prime, Bayverse, and Animated. 112: Gestalt, IDW, Optimus Prime and Optimus Maximus and Megatron. 113: Band of Brothers, G1, Starscream and the Dinobots. 114: Bun in the Oven, G1, Megatron and an Ensemble.
Description: Lots of love to go around and only one Jazz.
Prowl is contemplating recharge over a cube of spiced energon when someone pings his door. It's a bit late for casual visitors.
Curious, Prowl opens his door, orbital ridges lifting in surprise. "Jazz," he greets as the TiC lounges indolently in his doorway. "What a pleasant surprise."
"C'mon, Prowler. It's Tuesday," Jazz murmurs, tilting his helm just so, visor glinting at Prowl in the lowlight of the hall.
Prowl pauses. "I... don't follow your logic." There's nothing special about Tuesday as far as he's aware.
Jazz's lipplates curl in a slow smile. "Tuesdays are for the quiet ones," he purrs and presses forward, Prowl backing into his quarters without truly understanding why he's doing so.
"I..." Prowl trails off as the circuits finally connect. "You have a schedule?"
Jazz's hand reaches out, fingers splaying over Prowl's chestplate. "Sorta." He laughs as he caresses a headlight. "Lots of love to go around and only one Jazz. If ya know what I mean."
"You... I can't..." Prowl splutters, unable to form a coherent statement. A schedule? Is Jazz serious or is this just another case of his questionable sense of humor?
Jazz's energy field flares outward in a tingling invitation. "You don't want to?"
Any attempt at clinging to composure eradicates itself at the noise of Prowl's cooling fans kicking on with a roar. "I said nothing of the sort," Prowl replies smoothly as his aft collides with his berth.
Jazz smirks. "You haven't said much at all, Prowler," he teases, crowding Prowl against the berth, glossa sliding teasingly over his lipplates. "Don't let me break your processor. Ratchet'll have my tailpipe and ream me a new exhaust."
"For you that's hardly a punishment," Prowl says wryly, placing his hands on Jazz's hips and tugging the saboteur closer. He doesn't know a single mech who could turn away an eager Jazz. Not even himself. "Hedonist that you are."
"Guilty as charged." Jazz's knee rises up, stroking an electrifying path across the insides of Prowl's leg. "What do ya say, Prowler? Wanna share a berth tonight? I got magna cuffs in my subspace."
Heat flares through Prowl's frame. "Only if I can use them on you." It would do the feisty saboteur some good, Prowl thinks.
Jazz laughs. "I'd be offended if you didn't."
Ever so diligent, Prowl prudently sends a message to Prime that he'll be late for his shift tomorrow. Best to be prepared.
a/n: Jazz has lots and lots of love to give. He even has a schedule. lol. I might write a follow up to this, detailing his schedule. *grins*
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