Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Prowl/Soundwave
Rating: NC-17 mech/mech
Codes: Crossover, Slash, Sticky
Summary: Jazz's next appointment ends up being during Prowl's overtime.
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
Notes: klik = 1 minute; breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 6.3 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycles
~text~ bond/hardline talk
::text:: comm chatter
At All Costs 12: Life's Interferences
It was the most complicated assignment to have crossed Prowl's desk to date, and despite the twinges it was causing in his core programming to feel this way, Prowl was annoyed. Any other time and something this complex to work on would have pleased him, especially with the emphasis that they were expecting good work from him. Except that they were expecting quality work within a deadline that was keeping Prowl in his office.
In his office and away from his appointment with Jazz. A twinge in his spark at missing his time with the small silver mech that so captivated him, causing feelings and desires that no one else did and Prowl still did no know how to classify. Except that he wanted to feel them again.
With a growl Prowl grabbed another datapad, setting it so that he could see it in conjunction with what he was seeing on his terminal and collating it all in his processor so his tactical and battle computers could process the data.
The buzz at his office door requesting entry came as something of a surprise. His subordinates knew it was a bad orn to bother him and his superiors didn't bother with a buzzer.
Then his processor caught up with the ID attached to the request and nearly froze.
Jazz.
Jazz was on the other side of the door and asking in.
Prowl couldn't help but wonder what the mech was doing at his office even as transmitted the code that opened the door. He didn't want to protest, but as the silver mech entered and the door closed he frowned.
"I am sorry. But this-." He waved lifted his hand, drawing attention to the work laid out before him. "They won't wait."
"I know," Jazz smiled and sauntered over, draping himself on the far side of the desk with a supple grace no mech should possess. "That doesn't mean we can't spend the time together."
"True." Admiring optics traveled over that beautiful frame, Prowl having to forcefully turn his attention back to Jazz's face. As difficult as the mech's presence was going to make his work, there was no way he was going to send him away. And from another perspective it was incentive to get his work done.
He held out a hand, inviting Jazz over with the intent of indulging himself for a moment in hopes that he could then turn his attention mostly back to where it needed to be.
A heady rev of Jazz's engine answered even as the lithe mech slid over the desk to claim Prowl's mouth while he climbed into the mech's lap.
Prowl purred as their chassis molded together, glossa seeking to make clear just how much he wanted the mech in his arms, ignoring for the moment the nagging of his programming that there was work to be done, work far more vital than his own pleasure.
"Mmm, how about I suck you off while you work?" Jazz suggested with a rumble of desire.
"As tempting as that offer is, I do not think I would be able to work." Prowl sighed, truly regretful. Jazz was too beautiful, too... Prowl couldn't put into words entirely what the silver mech did to him.
A quick kiss was claimed before Jazz hummed again. "What may I do for you then?"
"Sit with me. Talk." Prowl nuzzled Jazz's helm affectionately. "I can divert enough processing power to enjoy a conversation as I work on this."
"Works for me," he purred and nuzzled Prowl's chest in return. "How has your decaorn gone?"
Prowl reached around, arms encircling Jazz as he spoke and continued to work. "Well. Interesting and educational, if nothing else. I have had much to do."
::I am very sure my office is monitored, so if we wish to speak of other things a comm line, or a hardline if you prefer, would be advisable.:: Prowl commented quietly with the comm request, all meant merely as a suggestion.
"Glad to hear it," Jazz purred, more than willing to relax on Prowl lap and chat about the inconsequential out loud and the important things in the relative private of an encrypted comm. ::I have no doubt they are. Your quarters certainly are as well. About the only places not under surveillance are Megatron's and Soundwave's quarters, Megatron's office and Soundwave's workshop.::
"Mine was profitable. A Towers mech went slumming, had me all polished up and went to one of their parties," Jazz continued, entirely too familiar with duel conversations. "I got most of a metacycle's worth of energon in my subspace out of that, plus his credits. He's a good client, if unreliable."
::I am not privy to the security measures of the base. My rank is not near high enough to warrant such information. But I would believe you to be right.::
Prowl concentrated on his work for a moment, focusing intently before relaxing again. "It sounds as though your time away from here was most profitable indeed. These parties are entertaining?"
Jazz shuddered lightly. "Anything but. The dancing is slow, the conversation all politics and veiled insults, the music really slow. They're just one huge meet and greet and insult without getting caught. It's all see and be seen. But it's hard to beat the pay, how lax they are with tracking the energon and Lord Mirage is fun in the berth once you get him away from his kin. If he didn't pay so fraggin well I wouldn't go, but a mech's godda do what he has to. I get enough from him to pay for my rent and energon for almost a full vorn, for an orn and a half's work."
Prowl took a moment to nuzzle at the smaller mech, surprised to find how jealous he was of this lord that Jazz was referring, even though he knew Jazz's function. "True once again."
He worked again, both because he really did have to get this assignment done and because he did not wish to have their time cut short if someone were to try and accuse him of slacking. ::Did you manage to get that mech patched up?::
::No need to be jealous, lover,:: Jazz murmured. ::Even if I do think it's sweet in a dangerous way. He's just a job. There haven't been but a handful of mechs in my lifetime that I'd be with without pay.::
::I-:: Prowl wasn't sure if he should apologize or not. It was not a feeling he was used to, and as he considered it more he wasn't even sure it was a right feeling. It was Jazz's life, his choices to make, and Prowl had no real hold over him. ::I'm sorry.::
::It's cool. Yes, he was willing to stay until one of the junior medics came,:: Jazz snuggled closer and nuzzled him. ::Thanks for letting me use your quarters like that. Fixit is the mech to comm if it comes up when I'm not around.::
::I shall keep that in mind. I trust he is discreet?:: The mech in question was not one that Prowl was familiar with, always having been seen to by Hook.
::Very discreet. I've been doing this since before you joined and he hasn't said anything he shouldn't yet,:: Jazz smiled and stole a quick kiss to Prowl's neck. "What are you working on?"
"Contingency plans, in case of specific kinds of attacks." Prowl replied, vague but detailed enough to be a real answer. The kiss to his neck sent a shiver through his frame, and he had to stop and refocus.
Something occurred to him as he focused. ::How long have you worked among ... us?::
::Before there was an 'us',:: Jazz said easily. ::Megatron knew and used me before any of my upgrades, back when I was still a class two and under contract.::
Surprise flickered through Prowl at the admission, though what triggered it he wasn't entirely sure. ::Is he what drew you here?::
::He was the one who convinced me to try and buy myself, gave me tips on how to save the money,:: Jazz said seriously, respect deep in his voice. ::He was almost ready to buy his own contract when all Pit broke loose and made it a moot point. He's the reason I have such a nice contract with the Decepticons. He's one of the few I only charged what he could afford after I could set my own rates. I'm not really a Con, though. I'm useless on the battlefield.::
Prowl finished off a datapad, saving the information before shutting it down and nudging it aside to wrap his arms around Jazz and hold the small mech close. He contemplated quietly for a bit, sensor panels flicking a little as memories of his own battlefield training surfaced briefly at the mention. ::That does seem to be an important factor here.::
"How long are you going to be on base this time?"
::It is,:: Jazz murmured. ::Soundwave understands the uses of those who don't fight well. Megatron, not so much anymore.:: He nuzzled and squirmed to press even closer into the embrace. "Three orns."
Shoving his work aside again Prowl kissed the top of Jazz's helm, reaching out to wrap the mech in his field as well, reinforcing the fact that Jazz was worth something to him as he wrestled with traitorous thoughts that were daring to rise again. ::The interfacing ... It has been going on since the beginning?::
::Yes,:: Jazz lifted his helm to kiss Prowl softly. ::It's what I do, what I could contribute, and once there were credits he paid me well. Some of the intel you work with is from me too, though I doubt Megatron remembers I was one of his first and best spies.::
::Megatron...:: Prowl hesitated, not quite finishing that thought himself. Megatron seemed to remember things when it was convenient for him to do so anymore, much of his attention focused on winning the rebellion that he had set into motion with less thought of why he had incited it in the first place. And selfishly Prowl wanted to point out that perhaps it was not a bad thing that the leader did not think of Jazz so often any more.
::Does more as he pleases now.:: Prowl finally concluded, stealing another kiss from Jazz before he reached for his work one more. "If you are staying so long maybe I can arrange to see you again before you leave, when work does not interfere."
"Mmm, I'm sure. I have some recharge and free time in there I wouldn't mind spending in your berth, as long as you're there too," Jazz x-vented and relaxed against Prowl's chest. "It's kinda nice to have an appointment that isn't all interfacing. Most Cons aren't much for conversation or anything but getting off. It's the one thing I miss about my old client list."
"I would certainly intend to be. Some of your old clients merely desired social contact?" Prowl asked, curious as he started to work on the next section of his assignment, realizing that somewhere along the way he had reached the half way mark.
While he was going to have to go back and thoroughly check all of his works twice since he was not devoting his entire processor to it, Prowl suddenly wondered if he could make a case that he worked faster with the small minibot in is lap.
The idea was immediately excused as highly improbably, but it was a tempting little thought that was going to nibble at his processor anyway.
"It's a bit part of the draw, what made upgrading to a class five worth all the credits and effort," Jazz nodded. "Lesser nobles, ranking military officers and even the occasional young Senator are the folks that hire a class five," he explained. "They want a good overload or six, but that is secondary. A class five gets paid so much because we're educated, keep up on current events, have quality construction and can hold our own in the VIP filled social events those folks go to. We're expected to look good on their arm, speak and conduct ourselves to make them look good and generally fit in with that group as a trophy lover."
Prowl turned his head just enough to land a kiss on a sensor horn. "You were certainly a prize for them then."
"Mm, thank you," Jazz purred and snuggled closer. "Does it bother you, my function?"
"Does it bother you that my function makes me stiff, formal, and devoid of all emotion or humor?" Prowl responded, his tone light as he considered the real answer to the question that Jazz had asked him.
Jazz snickered at the description. "That mech is annoying, but breaking his facade is great fun."
A small smile from Prowl. ::For you and few others.:: Then serious as he wrapped as he looked at the silver mech in his arms.:: It bothers me because I do not wish to share you. I was jealous earlier that the noble had his time with you and my work had trapped me in my office. But to ask you to be what you are not when I have no power or hold over you would mean nothing. It would also be against so much that I am working for, making me no better than those I turned against.::
::It would make you normal, a mech,:: Jazz countered gently. ::It's why pleasurebots are programmed with carefully muted and limited emotional protocols. To fall in love, to be with someone outside our caste when it's not business is to invite exactly what is happening,:: he murmured sadly. ::It never ends well for the pleasurebot.::
::And what is happening?:: Prowl asked, not missing the sadness and spark constricting at the thought that this might be coming to an end.
Jazz stretched up and claimed Prowl's mouth, indulging in the kiss fully even as he spoke over the comm. ::You're jealous that I interface with others. How long before that occasional displeasure turns to frustration, or hatred? Maybe you weren't raised to believe in exclusive, but what I do goes well beyond having a second lover or the occasional dalliance.::
Prowl couldn't help but moan into the kiss, though there was a bitter edge of pain to the sound as well. As much as he wanted to he could not deny the logic behind what Jazz was saying, his battle computer feeding him the numbers.
And while it informed him that there was a much higher chance he would kill for the mech than he would harm the mech in his arms, that chance that he could harm Jazz was enough to scare Prowl. His arms fell away, freeing Jazz.
::It's not just the interfacing.:: He admitted quietly. ::It's everything about you.::
::I'd give it all to you if I could,:: Jazz trembled with the admission, terror sending frozen coolant through his lines. ::I would,:: he whispered. ::I'd find a new function to please you, if I could.::
Prowl couldn't help himself as he pulled Jazz close again, his wings trembling in shared distress though his frame remained solid. His field spread out- longing, distress, desire, love, sorrow- Prowl stiffened at the range of his own emotions.
They interfered with his processor so that he could not find a way out of the mess they were in.
::Jazz...:: He kissed the mech, wishing he could just forget.
::I'm sorry,:: Jazz shivered and pressed into the kiss and the contact. His field reached out, tangled with Prowl's and sought to calm the larger mech. ::I shouldn't have said it,:: he stroked his glossa along Prowl's lip plates, begging for entrance, for forgiveness. His hands reached out to stroke the beautifully elegant sensor wings in an effort to arouse and distract. ::I'm sorry.::
The distraction was wanted, accepted, Prowl's lips parting in welcome. ::Don't be.:: He would rather have the truth any day than find the lie later, would rather face the pain head on then suffer an energon blade to the back.
Both mechs focused on the physical, their mouths and hands expressing the mutual, desperate need to not think. It wasn't long before Jazz's mouth found Prowl's neck and his hands rubbed against Prowl's new interface panel.
Prowl had no desire to protest, not caring where he was or who might be watching. He tilted his head, giving Jazz complete access to his neck as his panels slid away to whatever the mech wanted to do there. He moaned as skilled fingers encouraged his spike to extend and pressurize, stroking it to full hardness.
"Take me, please," Jazz moaned against Prowl's throat. "Make me yours."
Prowl growled at the request, lifting Jazz as he stood to lay the smaller mech over his desk, capturing Jazz's lips with his own, glossa invading to lay claim to his lover. Prowl's hand traveled down the silver mechs frame, searching for Jazz's valve to see if it mirrored the state of need that he was getting off the mech. Between spread silver legs it was open, slick and twitching against the fingertip that circled, then pressed inside.
"Yes!" Jazz keened, thrusting his hips into the touch with abandon.
Prowl shuddered, loving the wild abandon of the small mech, as he thrust his fingers in, searching for that spot that would make Jazz scream before he gave in and gave them both what they wanted. Groups of sensor nodes pressed against his fingers as Jazz's valve clenched tightly around them, rubbed against them as the sleek silver minibot rolled his hips and spread his legs wider, silently begging for more.
With a twisting of Prowl's fingers, pressing a little deeper and Jazz's entire chassis crackled with excess energy as he writhed shamelessly, inviting Prowl to enjoy the spectacle and his incoherent cries of pleasure.
It was a struggle to hold himself together, dragging his fingers over the sensors as he withdrew his fingers and leaned over the smaller mech, shivering from the transfer of energy he lined his spike up with that valve, tip just touching. "You want me?"
"Yes," Jazz keened as he wrapped his legs around Prowl's hips. "Please. Prowl!" He begged shamelessly, knowing full well that anyone in the corridor would hear him pleading with the tactician. "Want you more than anything," he moaned, much more quietly and painfully aware of how true it was. It wasn't the platitudes of his profession; he was speaking his spark.
It was too much for Prowl and he slid slowly in, hands bracing on the desk as he kissed Jazz again, EM field flaring into the other mech with matching want and desire. Jazz replied in kind, his field and frame wrapping around Prowl with desperate abandon to the desires of their frames.
Prowl began a tortuously slow slide in an out of Jazz's valve, every motion zapping a charge from one to the other. Neither were entirely aware of when or how Jazz's wrists got under Prowl's hands, but the effect the moment the larger mech's weight came down on them, pinning Jazz down in a very solid way, was electric.
That was the touch that made Jazz scream.
Prowl froze at the sound, trembling. "Jazz?"
"Primus, don't stop!" Jazz begged, his voice thick with static as he rocked his hips in an effort to get Prowl to continue. Jazz's field latched onto Prowl's aggressively, the raw intensity of the arousal conveyed the only way the minibot knew how.
This was his ultimate kink; pinned and taken hard.
Prowl cried out himself, pulling out and thrusting in harder than before, driven by the desire pulling at him but still not entirely confident, deep refusal to hurt the mech beneath him ingrained at a spark deep level. He could feel that what he was doing was more than enough for Jazz, both in the reactions of the lithe frame under his and in the intensely of the field meshed with his own.
It was incredible, the sensation of setting off such a deeply felt kink in his lover. The overload that hit Jazz was hot, fast and blindingly hard even across the field in Prowl's systems. It hit hard enough that Prowl overloaded as well, managing several hard thrusts before his frame stiffened, Jazz's name ripped from in a static laced cry of bliss.
Limbs trembling, it was all he could do to not completely fall on the off-line mech underneath him. Prowl smiled, leaving a gentle kiss on silver mech's helm as he pulled himself together, savoring the small waves of energy still flowing through him.
A moment's concentration and Prowl found the coordination to pull out and gather Jazz into his arms, falling back in his chair with the small mech against his chest, content and exhausted. The room was thick with ozone, the scent of valve lubricant and transfluid. It was a moment where Prowl was grateful his subordinates were largely afraid of him ... or at the very least only interacted with him when required.
He was still drawing deep draughts of air into his systems and pushing it out fast in an effort to cool down when Jazz began to cycle up.
Prowl shifted the mech against him, freeing an arm to stroke Jazz's back as his lover came back to the present. "So beautiful." He murmured, nuzzling at Jazz.
"Amazing," Jazz managed to get out though the static as he very willingly rested in Prowl's embrace. "You're amazing, Prowl."
Prowl shook his head, the same arguments rising that always did when Jazz complimented him so. Instead he continued to run a hand over Jazz's back, palm flat alternating with fingers lightly tracing seams in the armor.
Utter contentment with the here and now spread through his field and into the mech in his arms. Peacefully, blissfully content with Jazz against him. The brush of his lips over a sensor horn. "Nothing so amazing as you."
Jazz hummed happily and willingly settled in for a quiet work time.
Prowl was half way into the next datapad when the door slid open for Ravage.
The Praxian's head snapped up, prepared to share his irritation at being interrupted without a warning until he realized who had come. Instead he saved his work quickly and actually smiled a little at the sight of the symbiot, relaxing back with Jazz on his lap.
"Ravage. What can I do for you?"
"Laserbeak's reported that Black Echo is looking for Jazz," she said evenly, her annoyance clear.
Jazz went instantly tense at the Autobot TIC's designation, displeasure and dread radiating from him before he locked it down.
Prowl wrapped an arm around Jazz, holding the smaller mech close to his chassis. ::Jazz?::
::He's as violent as they get when he goes looking for me,:: he explained even as he reluctantly disentangled himself from his lover. ::Means something went bad.::
Prowl let him go, clearly just as reluctant as he stood, claiming a kiss from the smaller mech before stepping back. ::Be careful. Come back. Please.::
::Don't worry,:: Jazz smiled at him. ::He chooses me because I survive. Their CMO Ratchet is better than Hook too, but don't tell the mech that,:: his tone turned teasing before looking at Ravage. "Usual spot?"
"Yes," the feline nodded, watching Jazz walk out and waiting for the door to close. "He told you why he still takes Autobot clients?" she focused on Prowl.
Prowl nodded. "Information."
She nodded and relaxed a bit. "He's a very good social spy for us. He's saved me from some very dangerous missions. He can walk into a lot of bases and just get the layout."
Prowl settled back in his chair, picking up the datapad that he had been working on before Ravage's arrival. "So that is where most of those layouts come from. I did wonder how we managed to get them in such detail."
"Yes, that's Jazz's work," she nodded. "Don't worry. No matter how rough that Autobot is, Ratchet fixes Jazz up as good as new."
"Fixes him good as new'." Prowl repeated softly. "So they allow that too..."
She cocked her head, then nodded. "Yes, they allow consensual violence. What they don't allow is taking an unwilling mech."
"Consensual?" Prowl started again, then stopped and vented in defeat. "Are you needed elsewhere?"
"Jazz may not enjoy the damage, but he agrees to it fully informed," she told him. "Needed, no. I can stay for a few joor if you'd like the company," she offered, uncertain.
"The company would be very much appreciated, if you are willing to stay." Prowl held out a hand, seeking comfort.
"Always," she rumbled and walked over to lean against his leg and press into the offered touch. "Want to talk, or just have company?"
"Company, I think. So that I can finish this. And then maybe some downtime." Prowl answered, running a hand along her back before returning to work, determined to distract himself from what his lover was facing.