Choice Partners
Jazz leaned against the balcony ledge, looking out over Autobot City and its surrounding landscape; framed by the setting sun and its hues of red, orange, pink and peach; and shrouded by a thin, misty drizzle of rain. It seemed to him that the elements could somehow feel his pain and were sharing in his sorrow, for the trickles of water that ran down his face mingled with the liquid tears that spilled from under his visor. Tears that he shed for good friends lost, and a love forever gone. He missed them dearly, and mourned them greatly – especially Prowl, his beloved bondmate.
The sinking sun cast a final blood-red hue over his black and white form, and the rain continued to fall….
In that misty glow, Blaster – as he stood unseen in the shadows by the door – couldn't help but notice how beautiful Jazz still looked. Sorrowfully beautiful, as if grief had somehow enhanced the saboteur's physical qualities. He knew he should go and try to comfort his friend, but he couldn't. Not when he wished that he and Jazz could be something more than friends, something he had been wishing for ever since they had first met many millions of years ago.
Back then the feelings had been new to him, and in his uncertainty he had never told Jazz how he felt. He wished now that he had, instead of being such a coward about it. At least then he wouldn't have had to stand here and watch Jazz go through all this grief, for not even he could deny that Prowl and Jazz had shared a deep bond between them. He wondered now if even death could break it, and as he did, a new thought occurred to him: with Prowl gone, would Jazz soon follow? Blaster shook his head.
"I wont lose him again," he said softly to himself.
Blaster looked up in time to see Jazz step back inside, rainwater dripping almost rhythmically from his black and white frame, and splashing down on the floor. He raised his hand and was about to call out a greeting, but the saboteur just walked right past him, unseeing. The red mech sighed, then started after the black and white.
"Evenin' Jazz," he called, trying to keep his tone and voice as light as he could.
The saboteur stopped mid-stride and looked back, a forced smile crossing his face. "Oh, hey there Blaster. Sorry man, I didn't see ya there."
Blaster forced a smile of his own. "Don't worry about it man, its cool," he lied.
It wasn't cool at all. He wanted Jazz to see him, to always see him, the way he used to see Prowl – as someone he could love and count on forever. He wanted to be the first person Jazz saw when he awoke each day, and the last one he saw before shutting down. He wanted Jazz to see him by his side no matter what befell.
"Blaster? You okay?"
Jazz's voice flowed into his audios, temporarily halting his thoughts, and he realized he had been staring at the other mech.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine, but what about you man? Are you alright? You ain't been yerself lately."
"I know. I'm tryin', but it just feels like somethin's missin', know what I'm sayin'?"
Blaster nodded. "Ya miss Prowl."
"Every second."
"I'm sorry."
Jazz shook his head. "Nah, don't be. And don't worry about me either, I'll be fine." He turned as if to go. "Y'take care o' yerself man." He started to walk away.
"Jazz," Blaster began.
The saboteur halted and looked back once again. "Yeah man?"
A flood of words filled Blaster's mouth, threatening to spill over and reveal Blaster's deepest and innermost feelings for him, longing to burst free and tell Jazz how much he loved him. He dammed them in. This wasn't the right time for it, but then he wondered when the right time would be. Possibly never if he refused to work up the courage to say what he wanted to say.
"I…" he sighed. "I just want you to know that…". He had to tell him at some point. "That… I… will always be here for you if you need someone to talk to." Courage had deserted him once more.
A faint glow shone from under Jazz's visor, one that Blaster hadnt seen in a long time. Not since Prowl had died.
"Thanks man, I appreciate it."
Blaster stepped closer to him and placed his hand on Jazz's shoulder strut, keeping the touch as gentle as possible, hoping to convey his feelings through an action rather than through words. "I'm always here for you."
Jazz reached up and placed his hand over Blaster's.
XXXXX
Blaster gripped Jazz's arm as the black and white trailed a hand down his chestplate, gently caressing the buttons and switches. His other arm snaked around the Porsche's waist, drawing him closer. They were somewhere, where exactly, Blaster didn't care. He had Jazz and that was all that mattered. Black and white, and red and silver blending together.
His hand left Jazz's arm and traveled up to a fold between his neck and shoulder, where his fingers slipped in and began to stimulate the sensitive circuitry that lay hidden beneath the armor. Jazz shuddered at the resulting energy surge and moaned softly into Blaster's neck. His own hands stroked Blaster's chest and the Communications Officer was extremely grateful that his cassettes could live independantly from him, because Jazz was good.
Blaster let out a gasp as Jazz first nuzzled, then kissed his neck, and his optics flared for a moment at the resulting surge. Every servo and circuit within him tingled, just longing to be touched and soothed, and Jazz knew it. The saboteur's expert hands gently massaged, caressed and stimulated every possible spot on his upper body, including some that Blaster didn't even know could be aroused.
Yes, Jazz was slagging good.
Unable to support the sensations coursing through his body, Blaster's legs gave way and the two of them tumbled to the floor – Blaster landing over Jazz. Optics met visor and for a moment both mechs simply looked at each other before Blaster realized he had Jazz pinned beneath him – perfect.
Stradling Jazz, Blaster began running his hands along the other mech's chest and mid-section, paying special attention to more sensitive areas like his grille, headlights, and the bold '4' emblazoned on his hood, eliciting moans of pleasure from the black and white as he squirmed beneath him. Blaster bent and kissed his hood, directly on the '4', and Jazz gasped.
"Too much for ya?" he asked.
"Not enough," Jazz whispered back as he wrapped his arms around Blaster's waist.
The red and silver mech bent lower and trailed kisses along his chest to his neck and shoulder, before turning his head and gently nibbling the side of Jazz's neck. The saboteur moaned again, louder this time and drew a leg up, rubbing his thigh against Blaster's before curling it around the Communication Officer's leg. Blaster shuddered at the touch and looked up again. Again optics met visor and Jazz ran a thumb across Blaster's cheek. The red and silver mech tried, and failed, to repress another shudder of delight. He stared down at the black and white who lay beneath him. Jazz caressed his cheek again.
"I think we should- mmf!"
Before Jazz could finish, Blaster leaned down and captured his mouth in a fierce kiss. Light glowed from beneath his visor as the saboteur returned the kiss with equal ferocity. Blaster thought his spark would explode.
"I love you so much," he whispered against Jazz's mouth in the brief pause that followed. "I always have."
"Blaster," Jazz began
"Sshhh," Blaster silenced him and kissed him hungrily again.
Then Jazz did the unexpected. He pushed him off with an exclaimed, "Blaster!"
XXXXX
Blaster sat up with a start, optics flaring brightly as he looked around. He was sitting on a recharge berth in a darkened room. A check with his chronometer told him it was just after sunrise on another Earth morning. An arm snaked around his waist.
"Blaster?"
The voice reminded him that he was not alone in the room. Someone else shared his recharge berth, and when he looked down, the other mech lying there was not black and white, but blue – a rich, cobalt blue.
"Blaster, are you alright?" the optics looked right at him.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine Tracks. Just a dream," he replied.
"Well then, lay back down, we've still got a few hours left before we go on duty."
Blaster obliged, lying down to face Tracks and wrapping an arm around the blue mech's shoulders before leaning into the kiss the shapely Corvette placed on his mouth. He returned it, but part of him couldn't help but wish that it was Jazz in his berth instead. The dream lingered too clearly on his mind.
A pang of guilt pricked at his spark. Blaster had hurt a lot of mechs in his lifetime, but he feared now that he was hurting Tracks the most. He knew that the blue Corvette genuinely loved him yet he wondered if the only reason he stayed with Tracks was to numb the pain of not having Jazz. Primus help him, he was trying. He was trying very hard to see Tracks as Tracks and not as some mere substitute for the one mech he couldn't have, and these days he felt that he really DID love Tracks.
Then he'd see Jazz… Jazz alone…
He broke off the kiss…. Tracks' optics glowed at him again.
"What's wrong Blaster?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically tender. He reached up to gently run his fingers along Blaster's face.
"Nothin' Tracks, I'm fine."
As if to prove it, and also to prevent the blue mech from asking anymore questions, Blaster slipped his fingers into a fold of Tracks' armor and began to caress the sensitive circuitry. Whatever Tracks was going to say was lost in the deep moan he let out. He leaned against Blaster, his arm tightening around the red mech's waist, as his fingers charged up sensitive spots along his back. Blaster groaned and pulled Tracks in for a hungry kiss that the Corvette readily submitted himself to.
As the kiss intensified, Blaster began to gently stroke Tracks' wings, causing the blue warrior to moan lustily into his mouth as a shiver ran up his back. He flipped Blaster onto his back and leaned over, still kissing him as his hands began to tease the metal plating just below his chest, beneath which his spark lay.
"Tracks!" Blaster gasped as a strong surge rushed through him, his mouth brushing against the blue meach's.
"Shut up Blaster" Tracks growled, kissing him hard.
Blaster's fingers unconsciously moved to the area where Tracks' own spark lay, could feel the heat it generated – the same heat Blaster's own spark was giving off under Tracks' ministrations. His mind whirled. A bond now could complicate everything. He loved Tracks, yes, but he couldn't deny his feelings for Jazz, yet in his dream, Jazz had pushed him away.
Tracks began to initiate a link-up. Blaster, still trying to sort out his feelings, had no choice but to let him. Tracks saw him. If he and Jazz ever got together, would Jazz see him? Or would he simply be a substitute for Prowl? If that was the case then there was no reason for him not to bond with Tracks, but he had to be certain. He had to be sure that there was no future for himself and Jazz, because as long as Jazz was in the picture, there would be no way Blaster could ever give himself wholly to someone else.
Thankfully for Blaster, before any sort of link could be made, an alarm in the room went off, indicating that both of them were scheduled for duty soon. With a bit of reluctance, Tracks pushed himself off Blaster and sat up.
XXXXX
Jazz walked along the hallways of Autobot City feeling more than a little out of sorts in its surroundings. Gone were the jaunty spring in his step and the cheerful, charming smile he always used to wear. Now his feet all but dragged as if he had to will them to move, and the smile he wore now was but a ghost of its former self, and even those he saved only for when he saw a friend. Those were few and far between.
The remaining Ark-bots who could still fight were either out on patrol duty most of the time, or had been shipped off to Cybertron; so Jazz rarely ever got to see them. Perhaps if they HAD been around, the loss would have been easier for him to bear, but instead, he was surrounded by newer, younger Autobots he barely knew.
As a result, he began to retreat deeper and deeper into himself to escape the pain and the lonliness. He'd never expected to lose Prowl, and the hurt that came with it had just about numbed every emotion and feeling he had because no matter where he looked, there was always something to remind him of Prowl. In a way, Prowl was everywhere. In a way, Prowl was nowhere.
So Jazz continued his lonely walk – head bowed, visor dull, feet near-dragging – with no particular destination in mind. Then a hand clamped his arm and he stopped, looking up into Tracks' face. The ghost of his smile appeared once more.
"Hey Tracks, what's up?" he asked with all the cheer he could muster, which was pathetically little.
"Can the act Jazz," Tracks replied. "You know you're not fooling either of us."
"S'pose not. What can I do for ya?"
Tracks looked him up and down, noting the dullness of the black and white's paint, and the dirt smudges streaking his armor.
"When was the last time you saw a wash-rack?" he asked.
Jazz only shrugged. "Doesn't matter."
"Jazz, you're a senior Autobot…"
"Was. Was a senior Autobot, not anymore. Things have changed Tracks, no one's what they once were."
"That's no excuse for you to keep neglecting yourself."
"Like I said man, it don't matter."
"Maybe not to you, but it does matter to the ones who love you. If you werent so blinded by self-pity you'd notice that."
Jazz shook his head. "I cant." He turned to go.
"You cant? Or you don't want to? How much longer are you going to keep feeling sorry for yourself Jazz? Till you completely bury all your feeling and emotions? Till you become nothing more than an andriod?"
"You have no idea what its like to lose the one person ya truly care about."
Tracks stepped up behind him. "As a matter of fact I believe I do."
Jazz turned back to face him and Tracks felt a little uncomfortable at the lack of emotion on the black and white mech's face.
"You have no idea," Jazz murmured. "Because you havent lost him yet."
"It still does not give you the excuse to shut yourself away from everybody."
"And it don't give you the right ta judge someone based solely on what you think is wrong with 'em. You don't know how much it hurts. If shuttin'myself away is the only way to make it stop hurtin', so be it."
Once more he turned to go.
Suddenly Tracks, acting on pure instinct, grabbed Jazz by the shoulders, pulled him closer and kissed him; and Jazz, caught completely off-guard, didn't put up any resistance. Tracks deepened his kiss, still Jazz offered no response and the blue mech finally broke off.
"What's it going to take Jazz?" he asked, not releasing his grip. "What will it take to make you love again? Do I have to throw you down and shag you senseless to get some emotion out of you? Because if that's what its going to take, I can do it."
"Just let me go," Jazz replied softly.
"I know you miss Prowl. I know you probably miss him the most out of all of us, but you have to move on. Prowl's gone. You have to get over it and get on with your life. Its what Prowl would have wanted." He released one shoulder, reached up and gently stroked his fingers across Jazz's cheek. "You have to try and love again."
He leaned in and kissed him lightly again, but this time Jazz pushed him off roughly, turned, and walked briskly away. Tracks watched him go and smiled grimly to himself – at least Jazz had reacted this time. There was hope yet. Now all he had to do was talk to Blaster. His smile faded. He loved Blaster, but he knew that his 'heart' – so to speak – lay with someone else; and it was time they sorted things out.
XXXXX
Blaster sat alone in one of the lounges in Autobot City, having just got off duty. A mug of energon sat on the table cradled in between his hands. He stared at the liquid, recollecting and pondering on what had happened between him and Tracks that morning, and trying not to feel bad about it. The door slid open and Blaster looked up to see Tracks enter. The blue mech crossed the lounge and came and sat beside him.
"Didn't know you fancied warm energon on a warm day," he said.
Blaster picked up the mug and drained half of it. He stopped, looked as if he wanted to say something, then thought the better of it and drank the rest of his energon. Tracks draped one arm around Blaster's shoulder and took his hand in the other. Blaster leaned against him and Tracks sighed.
"What?" Blaster asked.
"I… I cant do this anymore Blaster," Tracks replied.
The red mech angled his head and gently nuzzled Tracks' neck. "Cant do what?"
"This… Us."
"What do you mean?"
"We're going nowhere."
Blaster sat up straight and looked at him. "Why're you sayin' this man?"
"Because its true." Tracks sat up too and looked back at him. "Because you don't see me. You never have. You see Jazz, and I'm just here because you cant have him."
"Tracks, I…."
"Don't say you're sorry Blaster, because we both know you'd be lying. I thought that if you had someone else, you'd forget about him, but all along I've just been a substitute, and I cant do it anymore."
Blaster looked away. "I didn't mean to hurt you Tracks. I do love you."
"But a part of you loves Jazz also. You cant stay divided like this forever, its not fair to you, or us. You need to decide."
"I cant! I don't know what to do."
"I think you should go to Jazz."
"You do?"
"Clearly you've loved him long before we ever got together. You should at least tell him how you feel and see what he has to say. Either way, there will be a conclusion."
"But what about you?"
"If it works out between the two of you, I'll deal with it. If it doesn't, I'll still be here for you."
"Tracks…".
"Shh." Tracks silenced him with a finger to his mouth. "Go to Jazz… He needs you more than I do." He gave Blaster a light push.
Blaster stood, hesitated a moment, then turned and walked out of the lounge leaving Tracks sitting alone inside.
XXXXX
Jazz sat on his recharge berth in his quarters, staring at a picture in his hands. It was a photograph of himself, Prowl, Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Goofy taken at Disneyland a year before they'd all been shipped off to the Moonbases by Optimus Prime. Jazz remembered having to beg, plead, cajole and eventually getting Ratchet to threaten Prowl into driving down to California with him.
Then it had taken more pleading by Jazz to get him to agree to having their picture taken with the three Disney icons, who Prowl saw as nothing more than humans dressed in incredibly uncomfortable costumes. But eventually he agreed and had even smiled for the camera.
Primus, Jazz missed that smile.
He reached under his visor and dabbed at his optics as they started to sting. He missed more than Prowl's smile. He missed the mech himself. Yet Tracks had said he needed to move on, that there was someone else out there he could try and love again. He looked at the picture once more. Prowl smiled back at him – a beautiful, happy smile that bore no trace of the deadly calm, serious expression that the Autobot Second-in-Command usually wore.
Again Jazz blinked back tears, again the black and white tactician smiled back at him. Prowl was happy. Jazz's head snapped up. The thought had entered completely unbidden into his mind and refused to leave; and the longer it remained, the more Jazz came to realize that it was true. Prowl's spark was with Primus now, he WAS happy. That was a heck of a lot more than he could say for himself, and he knew it wasn't what Prowl would have wanted of him.
Tracks was right – he had to try and love again, and he knew there was one mech out there who needed to be loved more than anyone else. Before this hed been blind, so busy wallowing in his own self-pity that he had barely noticed it. But it was clear now. He was needed, he would love again, because he wasn't the only one who was hurting as a result of Prowl's death.
He stood up, about to head out into the hall when the door chime sounded. The door slid open and Blaster stood there. He looked around, then locked optics with Jazz.
"Heya Blaster, what can I do for ya?" Jazz asked.
Blaster stepped inside and let the door close behind him. "I need ta talk to ya."
"Well I'm standin' right here, so no time like the present."
The red mech hesitated a moment and Jazz sat back down to let him take his time. After a suitable number of minutes had passed, Jazz stirred.
"Y'know talkin' means sayin' actual words to a mech," he said at last.
"This ain't easy ta say, man," Blaster replied.
"The easiest way is ta just say it."
"I love you, Jazz."
A moment of silence passed, during which Jazz's visor flared, then dimmed."
"Blaster man, I don't know what ta say."
"Don't say anythin' alright, just hear me out." He stepped closer to the black and white. "I've loved you ever since I first met you, I've just been too afraid to tell you – until now. I know this ain't the best time, but it was now or never." He stopped, taking a moment to cool his vocalizer before continuing. "I know ya miss Prowl, and I ain't tryin' ta replace him 'cause I know I never will, and I don't wanna be a replacement. I wanna be yours, for always."
Jazz sighed. "'For always' is a long time, and its wrong ta make promises fer the future when we ain't got no idea if that future'll ever come."
"For now then."
The black and white shook his head. "You're one of my best friends Blaster. Lovers may come and go, but ta lose your friendship to somethin' that may not even last – I cant handle losin' two of the people I love." He walked over and hugged Blaster close. "I'm sorry." Then he pulled back and saw his crest-fallen look. He touched the red mech's cheek. "Smile fer me. I've had too many tears these past few weeks."
"Isnt there any way?"
"We ain't right fer each other B, at least not in that way. Besides, I think Tracks needs ya more than I do, and I'll be slagged if I'm gonna rob him of the one mech he truly loves and cares about."
Blaster backed up a step. "Are you sure?"
"Sure as I'll ever be. Go on man, go to Tracks. He's waitin' for ya."
Blaster backed towards the door, took one last look at Jazz, then turned and walked out. Jazz waited till the door closed and then sighed again.
"Sorry Blaster," he whispered to himself. "I cant love ya like that, not when there's someone else who needs this love."
With that, Jazz headed out of his room and walked down the hallway to Bluestreak's quarters.