Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Prowl/Jazz
Rating: NC-17 mech/mech
Codes: Crossover, Slash, Sticky
Summary:
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics ./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 27: On The Prime's Orders
Prowl shuddered and moaned as he leaned back in his office chair, taking a hard-earned break from his work for the Prime to the pleasurable work of satisfying his lover.
His initial work had been met with great approval, leading to another assignment just as complex and just as suited to Prowl. With something to do now Jazz was starting to see firsthand just what a workaholic Prowl could be, and was determined to make sure the Praxian did not slip too far into his old ways.
His determination often leading to forced breaks like this, though if Prowl found the interruptions irritating one would not have been able to tell from his enthusiastic participation. Not when even he admitted he focused better afterward.
At the moment, however, all of Prowl's considerable concentration was focused on the exquisite feel of the slick valve moving along his spike, the cries of pleasure Jazz offered as he clung to Prowl's shoulders and the heat of the minibot's frame in his hands as they rocked together.
Prowl was far enough gone to the pleasure that he almost ignored the incoming comm, but for who the originator was.
Optimus Prime.
Prowl groaned, venting sharply as he caught Jazz's lips, not wanting to leave this unfinished. The kiss he received in reply only heated them both. Jazz's valve rippled around Prowl's spike as their glossa dueled.
Despite the intense distraction, Prowl opened the comm line. ::Yes, my Lord Prime?::
::I hope I am not disrupting you,:: Prime's deep, rolling voice washed over Prowl. ::I would speak to you and Jazz in person. A guard should arrive within a breem to escort you to my office.::
::Yes sir. We will be waiting.:: Prowl responding, managing to find the focus to create a coherent response.
::Good,:: Prime said and closed the line.
Prowl hands slipped down to work into Jazz's hip joints as he broke the kiss to nip at a sensory horn. "Prime commed. Wants to see you, me."
"What timing," Jazz moaned, squeezing his valve tighter. "You close enough to overload?"
Knowing fingers dug into his hips in response as Prowl thrust up harder, growling softly. Close enough that he wasn't planning on suffering from stopping now, and wasn't planning on leaving his lover deprived either.
Jazz moaned and shuddered, allowing Prowl to support his full weight and movement as he reached over Prowl's shoulders to stroke the splayed sensor wings.
"Jazz..." Prowl moaned, tilting his head and exposing his neck, asking for the little bit of extra attention that was practically guaranteed to send him over the edge.
"Love you," Jazz trembled and sucked on a main energon line, right on the edge and only holding back so he could feel his lover's transfluid rush into his valve.
A final thrust as Prowl cried out, entire frame shuddering as he overloaded into his lover. It was more than enough for Jazz, who keened and let himself go. The energy of the joint overload roared through them, between them, spiraling and amplified as their systems and sparks reached out to try and make the complete connection both mechs desired.
It left them both crackling as they came down, Jazz quivering in Prowl's lap.
"Beautiful." Prowl praised quietly, kissing Jazz as he strove to regain control of his contentedly purring systems. "Thank you."
"Mutual," Jazz moaned into the kiss as they took a moment more to recover. "You make me feel like no other, Prowl."
Contentment and pleasure at the admission radiated from Prowl. "A fair exchange then," He smiled, "for the one who showed me it was all right to feel."
Jazz smiled and snuggled against him. "Much as I don't want to move, we really should clean up if we're going to meet the Prime."
"Agreed." Prowl murmured, stealing one last kiss before carefully untangling their frames.
"We'll finish later." He promised as they walked to the private washrack attached to the berthroom. "I did promise we would be waiting on our guard to arrive."
"It's the Prime," Jazz smiled up and leaned against him. "He's one mech you don't tell 'later' to."
"Not without a very good reason, and as much as I wish otherwise, I do not believe recreational activities fall into that classification." Prowl responded, forcing himself to be content with a quick and affectionate kiss from the smaller mech.
Given his choice he would have forgone cleaning up altogether and spent the time making out with lover, but one did not show up to a meeting with the Prime looking like one had just shared a very pleasurable overload, no matter how true it was.
Forcing himself to focus, the Praxian reached for cleaner that would at least make them presentable. It would have to be quick, they had less than a breem before the guard arrived, but Prowl had long ago learned the art of the quick cleanup and Jazz proved even moved skilled.
They were both ready and followed the blue Bladebrother - Killblade Prowl's memory banks supplied - to the Prime's office. Optimus Prime looked decidedly out of place in the grand office designed by royalty and senators for his lofty status. The mech was doing his best, but to Prowl's optic Optimus wasn't at all comfortable with his rank yet. The two mechs with him, the hulking black Ironhide and the relatively small, slender Black Echo, seemed to blend into the room effortlessly. A lesser mech would likely have missed them, being too focused on the Prime.
It was an easy thing, to figure out where they were meant to stand when addressing the Prime. The designers had made sure of that, Prowl moving to stand before and a respectful distance from the Prime as he also waited for their presence to be acknowledged.
"I apologize for the timing," Optimus' smile was hidden by his battle mask, but it carried clearly in his voice, as did some amusement. "I would like an update on your current project for me."
"Of course sir." Prowl nodded respectfully, not the least bit embarrassed at having been caught out. If one did not expect it with his current rooming arrangements...one would have to be more naive than Prowl was before he met Jazz.
It was a simple matter for one so organized as the Praxian to sum up the project he was working on and deliver a compete and concise summery on where he was, what progress had been made, and the projection for completion. All of which exceeded the original guidelines Prowl had been given without taxing the mech, no matter what Jazz thought.
Report compete, Prowl waited for any feedback or questions from his Prime and officers, confident here as he had never been among the Decepticons that his work was sufficient and his progress pleasing.
"One question," Black Echo stepped forward. "How in the Pit have we lasted this long with you as the Decepticon CTO?"
Prowl did not even have to really consider his answer, vorns of frustration and pain surfacing in an instant at the question, even if none of it showed in his expression or manner. "Plans only work if individuals are willing to follow and implement them. My work was often dismissed or altered when it did not meet desired parameters."
It was irony in the extreme really, that one of the key reasons Prowl had joined the Decepticons has come full circle to plague him in that position as well.
Optimus nodded. "You have expressed a willingness to fully defect, however I wish to ask you again. Do you wish to wear the Autobot brand and serve me in ending the Decepticon threat?"
"Yes sir." Unwavering golden optics, full of conviction, met the Prime's. Prowl was sure of his choice, sure of this in a way that he had not been even when he had joined the Decepticons.
"Very well. Once you have completed your current project I will commission you and introduce you to your fellow officers and the members of my tactical team," Optimus said evenly. "I expect you will have to prove yourself to them in a way you did not to Megatron. However, I believe you, as does Black Echo."
"You've got a crazy processor to sort through, but if you're lying, you're better at it than I am," Black Echo grumbled, as close to a complement and vote of confidence as the mech could manage.
Prowl's processor almost stalled with that. He had expected, planned, on having to spend a considerable amount of time, vorns even, to be noticed enough gain any position of influence. He had expected to be treated with distrust and disgust during his stay. Only to be informed that what was by his farthest estimate a decaorn's worth of work he was looking at a position as a commissioned officer.
There were things that the ops mech still did not know, buried so deeply in Prowl's processor he had to go looking for them. But they were nothing that was going to threaten his Prime or his mission, truth enough apparently for the ops mech.
"I will. Thank you, sir." Prowl finally managed, standing a little straighter than before with a confidence he had never thought he would feel.
"There are conditions," Black Echo spoke up as Optimus sat on the edge of his grand desk. "The first, you are to report to either myself or Prime if you find any hint of a Decepticon sympathizer. It does not matter who or how you cross paths. You will report who they are and what happened in detail."
"We aren't asking you to look for them," Optimus' deep rumble washed over them all. "Merely to report if such things find you."
Prowl weighed that for a moment, testing the wording carefully in his processor before bowing his head in response. They were seeking threats against the Autobot cause, things that he likely would have reported without the condition ever being stated. "I understand."
"The second is that I want Jazz in my division," Black Echo locked optics on the silver minibot.
"What?" Jazz squeaked, shocked and more than a bit panicked.
"Half my division are pleasurebots and the like," Black Echo continued. "They don't go on missions. They're to mingle, socialize, support moral and report problems. Not that different from what you did for Soundwave."
Prowl stretched out his field just enough so that it brushed against Jazz, calm and full of question/ok?/I'm here and some of his personal confusion. "That would between you all," Prowl made sure to catch the Prime's optics as well, "and him."
Jazz brushed back with an uneasy yes. "Why?" Jazz managed to kick his processors into gear by focusing on this being just another contract.
"You're good. You're here. I don't like freelancers with enemy connections running loose on my base," Black Echo shrugged. "You didn't really think I wouldn't claim a major contract when it came open?"
Jazz looked a bit queasy, and to Prowl he felt sick, but the minibot nodded. "As long as that's all I'm doing."
"That's the standing contract," Black Echo nodded and unsubspaced a datapad to hand to him. "Full details on pay, expectations and all that slag."
Jazz nodded and took the pad, not even glancing at it before subspacing it. "I'll get it back to you in an orn or three, after I've read it fully."
Black Echo nodded his acceptance of that.
Prowl maintained his contact with the minibot, sharing what comfort he could until they were back in relative private and he could pin down what had Jazz so upset.
"Other conditions?" He inquired politely, sure that couldn't be everything that they wanted from him, from them.
"I expect you to behave in a manner befitting an Autobot officer," Optimus Prime said seriously. "I expect you to use your knowledge of the Decepticons to assist us in ending their threat. I expect you to speak up if you disagree with me. Your past has only been wiped clean legally by my pardon. You still must earn the trust of the other officers and soldiers you are going to send into battle with me."
Prowl actually relaxed at that, terms and conditions that he could live with, that he wanted to live with. Prowl wanted to work, wanted to be doing something useful. "Yes sir."
"Good," Optimus relaxed as well. "It is my understanding that you began training in Metallikato under Korrës. I wish you to continue your training."
"The opportunity to do so would be appreciated sir. The training has proven very helpful." Prowl responded, sincere and pleased. Since Prime wished it as well it meant that he could justify the time spent doing so, as soon as he tracked the master down.
Or, as Prowl was sure was the more likely of the two scenarios, the Metallikato master tracked him down.
"I am sure it has," Optimus chuckled lightly. "Do you have any questions of us?"
"No sir." No promises that there would not be questions later after Prowl had time to analyze all of the sudden changes, to give them the consideration they deserved, but for now he had enough.
"Very well. Then return to your quarters, enjoy your mate and take a few orns to assess what we've said," Optimus' gaze softened at he looked at Jazz. "I believe he'll feel better after a couple overloads and being held."
Sure that the Prime was right, Prowl bowed quietly at the dismissal and finally reached out to touch Jazz, wanting to get the silver mech back to their quarters. He found no resistance in Jazz, who gratefully leaned against him, his engine purring despite the distress in his field.
"I'll be fine," Jazz promised as soon as the door closed on their quarters. "I'm not just keen on being bound by another primary contract, especially not to him."
Prowl moved them to the berth, settling down and drawing Jazz against him before answering, processor working on the problem. "You are not bound here as I am. You could refuse. Or try to negotiate."
"Refusing means leaving you," Jazz shook his head in full denial. "It might not be as bad as I think," he stretched up to wrap his arms around Prowl's neck and claim his mouth in a desperate, hungry kiss. "I'll read the contract. I'm good with them. Right now ... I just want to feel you in me, in every way."
"Yours." Prowl agreed quietly, pushing the problem down until Jazz brought it up again, provided the mech wanted him involved with it. Right now if Jazz wanted to forget Prowl was willing.