Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Prowl/Jazz
Rating: NC-17 mech/mech, mech/femme
Codes: Crossover, Slash, Het, Sticky, Orgy
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 28: Smokescreen Again
Prowl paused at the sound of Jazz's voice coming from inside a sparring room. He was on his way to meet Ironhide for evaluation, but what was Jazz doing down here?
Curious, he turned aside. The door was open, practically an invitation around here, and he had the time to spare. Making it a point to be early everywhere you went gave a mech the luxury of being distracted on occasion.
The sight that met his optics was enough to stop him in his tracks and make his engine rev hard, and after a moment he settled in to observe what Jazz did for a living.
The orgy - and that was the only thing to call it - had Jazz at the center of all five Bladewarriors. He was tackling three of them - two in his valve and one in his mouth - while the other two, the twins, touched and kissed each other while they watched and waited their turn.
Jazz certainly didn't seem upset by the arrangement, and Prowl actually contemplated prodding him for details later. He had known the silver mech had attracted a lot of attention by accepting Black Echo's contract, but he hadn't seen him in action until today.
Prowl had to admit it was something to see, and hear. The warriors pounded into him, moaning their pleasure shamelessly as expected. But to watch Jazz ... Prowl had no doubt the mech was in bliss. He knew him too well. This was Jazz's element and he relished showing off his skills.
A shiver at the sound of Jazz in pleasure, and a brief struggle before Prowl had himself under control again. He had spoken truth when he told Jazz that did not hold what he was against him, and seeing this just confirmed that his own words. That Jazz was enjoying himself pleased Prowl, and the small slivers of doubt troubling Prowl as he watched were his own.
The black Bladebrother roared as he overloaded into Jazz's valve, followed shortly by his red brother and Jazz's sharp keens as he joined them, the sound muted by the spike still in his mouth.
Prowl checked the time again, and after a moment's debate decided he still had some time to spare. Though after watching this he hoped he would be in decent condition to meet with Ironhide, and not running so hot that it showed.
::Join?:: Jazz commed him as the blue Bladebrother overloaded into his mouth. ::Let me have that spike and cool you a bit.::
::You tempt me, but I am not sure I would be welcome. They don't seem interested in sharing.:: Prowl purred softly, touched by the fact that Jazz had even noticed him amid all of that.
::These three are done,:: Jazz commented as he was let down, only to be pounced on by the silver and gold brothers. A deep moan echoed over the comm as Jazz found Sunstreaker in his valve and Sideswipe thrusting into his mouth, both bucking hard. ::I'll always have time for you.::
::If you still feel up to it when they are done, if there is time.:: Prowl answered, smothering a moan of his as he agreed to give in to temptation.
::Always, for you,:: Jazz's voice was rich with desire that had nothing to do with the pleasure coursing through his systems. ::You feel so good in a completely different way,:: Jazz moaned in anticipation, drawing moans of pleasure from the two mechs taking him.
Prowl stopped trying to hide his desire or his growing charge, optics locked on the minibot as he waited, admiring every inch of his lovers frame in action.
:: You make me so hot, Prowl,:: Jazz moaned over the private comm even as his body worked the twins into a frenzy of pleasure. ::You're like no one I've been with. Not the biggest or most skilled, but my valve aches for your spike.::
::I think that adds up to a compliment.:: Prowl teased back, entire frame beginning to quiver with anticipation at the idea that soon Jazz would be riding him like that, for everyone to see.
::It is,:: Jazz moaned. ::So very much a complement. I want you so bad. I fantasize about you sometimes at work.::
Prowl whimpered softly, not sure what he had done to wanted that badly but not about to protest the fact either.
::Touch yourself?:: Jazz whimpered, his body taunt between the twins as they neared overload. ::Stroke your wings. I love your wings.::
::For you.:: Prowl agreed, sensor wings flaring wide in a motion meant to attract attention before settling into position where he could reach some of the most sensitive plating.
He didn't try to muffle the sounds of pleasure dragging his fingers over his own plating brought him, pleasure only intensified by the fact that he was doing it for Jazz and no one else.
::Prowl!:: Jazz keened sharply over the comm even as his muffled voice cried out Sunstreaker's designation as the golden warrior overloaded, quickly followed by his twin.
If a riled up and needy Praxian had been Jazz's goal he certainly accomplished it, with Prowl unable to take his optics off Jazz as a small keen of his own escaped him. He continued to stare, fixated, as Sunstreaker pulled out, followed by a gush of transfluid from Jazz's well-used valve. The Sideswipe withdrew, leaving Jazz panting on the floor.
Under the hungry gaze of all six mechs, Jazz rolled to his back, spread his legs and looked directly at Prowl. "Come take your share, lover."
"My share?" Prowl repeated as he approached, playful as he deliberately ignored the time constraints tugging at his processor. ::What if I think it's time for you to do a little work? You were the one who was teasing me.::
Still, he reached down and lifted the smaller from the floor, drawing him into a passionate and needy kiss that was returned in full. Jazz's hands reached for plating, one stroking Prowl's throat, the other going for a sensor wing.
::Whatever you desire, lover,:: Jazz moaned, absolutely willing and eager.
::What kind of a show shall we give them, keeping in mind that I have a evaluation in the very near future?:: Prowl asked, breaking off to tease at Jazz's helm instead, a slight revenge for what Jazz's words had been doing to him the entire time he had been watching.
Jazz gasped and shuddered, his processor going so many places before settling on something he knew would get to the cadre watching them. ::Take my valve, my spark, against the wall. Show them you're strong.::
Prowl moaned, doubting that Jazz would have suggested it if he wasn't sure but still wanting to check as he moved to pin the smaller mech to the wall. ::Spark in front of an audience?::
::You don't have to,:: Jazz hurriedly offered to retract the idea. ::I do regularly.::
Prowl freed his aching spike, pausing to meet Jazz gaze and make sure he had the minibot's attention. ::For you, anytime. Anywhere.::
With that he leaned in, catching Jazz's lips in a possessive kiss as his spike slid smoothly into the waiting valve. They both moaned into the kiss as Prowl took the last steps to pin Jazz against the wall. With only a few thrusts they were both all but oblivious to their audience as they sank fully into the pleasure.
"Yesss!" Jazz hissed, throwing his helm back in bliss, his body arched and valve rippling around the wave of pleasure that was Prowl's spike.
Prowl moaned, larger frame pinning Jazz effectively against the wall as he proceeded to take advantage of everything he knew drove Jazz wild.
"Yours." He managed again, chest plates loosening just enough to make the offer clear. Jazz's chest plates slid open quickly, the brilliant blue spark dancing with silver and purple lighting reached out as soon as its chamber began to spiral open.
Spark met spark eagerly as Prowl answered, touching and flaring as the physical took second place the pleasure shared between sparks, Prowl's only ever for two mechs, one absent and one in his arms right now.
It was Jazz's designation he keened as he pressed against the smaller mech, deepening the merge and sharing with his lover how much it meant to have Jazz. In return Jazz cried out Prowl's designation, something he did for most of his clients. Yet between them, where their sparks swirled and shared energy, the honesty of that cry came through clearly.
~Love you. Want you. Thank you. Adore you. My Prowl. My lover.~ Jazz's spark sang to him, reveling in the sensations that terrified Jazz's processor at times. Jazz was bound to Prowl and he knew it. Tied more firmly than any law or contract could manage. As frightening as it was to the mech who'd come on line effectively a slave, it was also relished as proof that Jazz had completely broken the pleasurebot coding that prevented him from living existence to it's fullest.
Joy and a peaceful contentment amid the storm of pleasure and emotion was Prowl's answer, a sure sense without words that Prowl loved him, wanted to please him, valued him, and shared in Jazz's happiness.
Spark deep love expressed outwardly in the way Prowl held him close, driving into him in a desire to bring them both the conclusion they sought. With both their bodies and sparks driving to release, it came fast and hard. Prowl's wings flared fully, separating into three long segments crackling with energy as they keened and stiffened.
He retained just enough thought to brace himself, to keep them both from crashing to the floor in the post overload bliss as he leaned in to kiss Jazz gently, field filled with love and adoration and praise as it washed over Jazz. Their chest plates closed automatically as they settled, systems content to be held close to the other.
"Impressive overload," a deep, rumbling voice rolled over them. "Now if you'll put your spike away, you better hope you have enough energy to fight."
Prowl nuzzled gently at Jazz as he pulled out and put himself back together. He set the minibot down and turned to face Ironhide, unfazed.
"I am ready when you are."
Ironhide huffed, glared at him, then turned to leave, expecting the Praxian to follow.
"Can I watch?" Jazz purred, looking at Prowl.
"If you want. I certainly don't mind." Prowl answered as he took his cue from the larger mech and followed Ironhides lead. In fact, Prowl welcomed the familiar company in a place where he still was not sure he was welcome so much as tolerated.
Jazz grinned and trotted to keep up with the larger mechs. Though he closed his interface panels, the scrapes of half a dozen colors and thick smears of lubricant and transfluid made him look very well used and in desperate need of a long stint in the washrack and detailing. Issues his lover might very well be willing to help him address after his appointment.
They only headed three rooms away, and the door closed behind Jazz as they took in the open training room.
"Start with the basics," Ironhide rumbled as he settled into a defensive stance. "Come at me."
With a shrug Prowl fell into a stance that for him was comfortable and familiar, taking the luxury of a moment to evaluate his competition, and struck.
The larger mech blocked him with a heavy downward blow that rattled his arm, a move that on the battlefield would have opened Prowl to a body slam that would have hurt. Instead Ironhide backed off again, clearly inviting another attempt.
Prowl stepped back as well, looking for another angle of attack after the obvious failure of his first strike. Initial analysis was informing him that he stood little chance against his much larger opponent without some sort of advantage, but Ironhide had not instructed him to stop either.
He moved again, though not in a way that left him open to the same counter. This time Ironhide let him strike, a test of the warrior's armor and Prowl's strength, before grabbing a sensor wing and squeezing hard enough to make a normal Praxian drop to his knees screaming.
All it him earned him with Prowl was another strike, this time a precision one to his wrist actuators to force Ironhide's hand open to free his wing.
The big mech grunted in surprise and began to circle his opponent. "Not many know that trick. Ratchet'll reformat you if you use it too much."
"I shall keep that in mind." Prowl promised. All of his encounters with the medic had only served to reinforce that Prowl did not want to be on his bad side for the simple reason that Ratchet was perfectly capable of making a mech's life miserable with ever laying a finger on his target.
He took advantage of the moment to test the wing that Ironhide had grabbed before drawing them tighter and therefore making them a less accessible target. His current environment did not call for him to employ the sensory data they offered, and extended they only offered his opponent a means of injury.
Suddenly things became much more serious as Ironhide powered up his cannons.
Prowl back up a pace, giving himself more room to maneuver as he evaluated the sudden change. There was no panic, but an immediate wariness concerning the large mech intentions.
"Let's see how well you dodge," Ironhide rumbled and fired.
Despite Prowl's dive to the side, his sensor wings soon informed him that the blast, while it would scorch, was at a low enough setting it wouldn't do much actual damage.
Relieved, Prowl still played by the rules, avoiding anything aimed at him with much better results than his attempts to attack the other mech. After six blasts, Ironhide grunted and lunged for the smaller, much lighter mech, taking it back to hand to hand but putting the Praxian on the defensive.
Prowl responded more often than not by simply not being there to be hit, sliding out of the way and one time even landing a sharp blow on Ironhide as he went by.
Ironhide began to growl, his strikes becoming more forceful, more frustrated, and much, much faster.
The change prompted Prowl to begin looking for a way to end what was supposed to have been merely an evaluation of his hand to hand combat readiness when one strike came far to close for comfort. It only grazed a sensor wing, but the force behind it was a very strong indicator of just how determined to land a hit Ironhide was.
Prowl knew he had no chance of physically subduing the much larger mech, and the time to attempt to talk his way out of it was gone. He was only distantly aware of another strong presence stalking into the room and pausing, watching the sparing match.
"Hide!" a femme's voice roared. "Stand down, Pit have you!"
Prowl backed away, assuming a neutral posture as soon as it was evident that Ironhide was going to obey, the Praxians' attention instantly divided between the fuming bodyguard and the new arrival.
Unfamiliar or not, her influence over Ironhide was much appreciated, and Prowl intended to tell her so as soon as Ironhide appeared to be under control again.
"I'm doing an assessment here, femme!" Ironhide snapped at her, though he was looking at Prowl.
"No, you're fuming, which means he's a lot better than you want to admit," she smirked. "You need to let Sideswipe give him a try. Praxians are all speed and you know it."
Sensor panels twitched as Prowl's processor helpfully provided him with a replay of the last time he had encountered the silver twin. More than one mech had paid dearly that orn, some of which was still owed.
From another angle though, Prowl had certainly not intended to rile Ironhide up this much, and dealing with Sideswipe and the occasional lecture from Ratchet might prove more beneficial to Prowl's health in the long run.
"Fine, but not Sideswipe. Let's see what another Praxian does," Ironhide's grin was dangerous. "That new one knows how to fight."
Chromia rolled her optics and sat on a bench to watch. "He's on his way. Come here," her attention turned to Jazz, giving him just enough warning before he was scooped up and plopped on her lap.
More curious than alarmed, especially since there seemed to be a voice of reason and influence in the room now, Prowl settled for dividing his attention between the rooms three occupants as he waited for his new sparring partner to arrive.
Ironhide seemed to have fallen out of whatever fit of rage he had been in, and the newcomer femme with his lover was an interesting individual. Her ID ping came back as Chromia. His database supplied that she was a high-ranking warrior in her own right; the bodyguard to the Prime's bonded, Elita One.
Prowl was finally relaxed from his round with Ironhide when the door slid open and an entirely too familiar frame walked in.
"Well, well, I never expected to see you again," Smokescreen grinned at him.
"Smokescreen." Prowl greeted him, neutral. Even though he had named him as a potential conversion he had not expected the other Praxian to actually make the switch.
The bright blue and red Praxian chuckled. "You'd be amazed at what Black Echo can do once a mech's broken." He glanced at Jazz, who looked away. "You might be amazed at how good that little silver demon of yours is at breaking a mech."
Sensor panels flicked, dismissive. Smokescreen had not just hinted at anything that Prowl was unaware of, though he might see if his lover wanted to talk tonight. And since Prowl was rather familiar with some of Black Echo's methods of operation- "It is good to see you functioning, if nothing else." Prowl allowed politely.
"So, if what scuttlebutt says is true, let's find out how long it takes you to trounce me," Smokescreen said cheerfully as he stepped into the sparing grid.
Rumors already? Dismissing that for later as well Prowl mirrored the Praxian, falling into the processor state from which he reacted best and began circling with Smokescreen, each mech taking in the other's measure. Reflexive social protocols Prowl never thought about kicked in and flared Prowl's three-panel sensor wings, making a show of his greater apparent status to intimidate the two-panel mech across from him.
Smokescreen flared his wings in turn, separating each into the three long fingers to make them appear larger and more impressive.
"You still think Praxians don't have some Seeker in them?" Chromia chuckled as she leaned against Ironhide, enjoying the way he rubbed her side even as she enjoyed the slide of her spike into Jazz's slick valve and the way the minibot moaned and rocked against her,
"Maybe," Ironhide grumbled as he watched the pair spar. Feints and testing strikes this early on. "I didn't know they knew each other."
"Smokey groped and kissed Prowl as a distraction during an early combat lesson," Jazz moaned, pressing back against Chromia's chassis. "Didn't go over well."
A small part of Prowl's processor followed the conversation off to the side, the part that was constantly aware of his environment. That session had been his first and his last with Smokescreen, the other Praxian possibly not realizing just how close he had come to serious injury that day, and not from Prowl.
Seeing an opening Prowl struck, the move intended to connect but not injure. He felt sensor wing under his fingers before reflex snapped the spread fingers apart and jerked the sensitive appendage back. If Prowl had been out to hurt him, that wing could have been gone, or worse.
It got the point across to Smokescreen very clearly, given the brightness of his now blue optics. It also made Smokescreen focus. His sensor wings folded back and tight against his chassis as he watched Prowl swing away.
With a single hard movement Smokescreen followed his retreating opponent only to find that Prowl was not where he had expected him to be, the mech already on the watch for a return strike and reacting to it before consciously processing what he was doing.
Prowl allowed Smokescreen's momentum to the set the mech up for another warning blow, this time to the massive number of critical lines in his neck. Though he didn't quite intend it, it did briefly drop Smokescreen to his knees.
"Definitely good enough to be on the front lines if needed," Chromia commented between low rumbles of pleasure and Jazz's moans.
"Not until I trust him," Ironhide growled. "He's good," he granted at his mate's glare. "He's also a defector who spent a lot of time close to Soundwave."
The mech under discussion backed away from his downed opponent, calmly waiting for Smokescreen to regain his feet and his equilibrium. For the briefest moment Prowl considered offering to end the match, then decided against it.
Just because he had no intention of hurting Smokescreen did not mean he had anything against shaking the other mech up a little, and if rumors were already spreading the suggestion that he could hold his own in a fight might prevent problems later on.
Or it might simply invite trouble, but on a personal level Prowl was enjoying having the upper hand for a moment. It happened rarely enough it he felt like relishing the moment.
"You've definitely gotten better," Smokescreen admitted as he bounced on his pedes a bit. "Anything you want to show off for him?"
"Not that he hasn't already seen." Prowl answered, optics still trained on Smokescreen and entire frame balanced to react at the first sign of need. "Sounds as though he is enjoying himself anyway."
"He always gets off on watching," Smokescreen shrugged as he circled around. "Did you really train with Korrës?"
"Yes." Prowl mirrored the move, observing and searching again. He answer was stated as simple fact and nothing more.
Smokescreen flicked his wings, impressed and willing to show it. He was setting himself up for an attack when a rather unique sound, a snarling keen of frustrated outrage, echoed through the room from Jazz.
"Black Echo summoned me," Jazz told Chromia, his voice low.
She nodded and shifted her attention from enjoying his valve to actually overloading.
Prowl spared the attention to actually look at his lover, leaving the rest of his sensors to keep a watch on Smokescreen. When Jazz used that tone it never boded well. The subject of his words sent a cold chill down his neural relays. Summoned by Black Echo. When would he see Jazz again? What shape would Jazz be in when he did, since Prowl refused to even contemplate the idea that silver mech would not come back.
"I guess that's enough you two," Ironhide rumbled to the Praxians, his hands knuckle-deep in Chromia's armor gaps as she revved up close to overload.
Smokescreen relaxed in obvious relief.
Prowl's tension only grew as he turned the rest of his attention from the other Praxian and waited for them to finish, wanting a moment with Jazz before he left. There was no arousal on his part this time, no pleasure as he watched Chromia overload.
As soon as she finished, before she'd even recovered, Jazz had lifted himself from her spike and hopped to the ground as he closed his panels. A desperate look, a pleading for understanding, was sent Prowl's way before Jazz walked towards the door.
"Jazz." Prowl called and waited just long enough to make sure he had the mechs attention before sending a quick comm. ::Just come back, love.::
Simple words that summed up all the mattered most to Prowl.
::As soon as I can,:: Jazz promised, a wealth of longing and dread in his voice. ::As soon as I possibly can.::