All or Nothing

by Gatekat

G1 AU. Jazz/Prowl. Lord Prowl is a young royal of Praxus. He has no idea the visit of his creator's favorite musician will change everything in his life. Lord Jazz of Protihex is even more clueless.

5. Testing Limits

Fandom: Transformers G1
Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Jazz(Sirenis)/Prowl
Rating: NC-17 mech/mech
Codes: Slash, Sticky
Summary:
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
Notes: klik = 1 minute; breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycles
~text~ bond/hardline talk
::text:: comm chatter

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All or Nothing 5: Testing Limits

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Sideswipe looked around the library of his creator's suite, taking in the serious expressions of those gathered at his request. His youngest brother and Prowl were occupied with each other in Jazz's suite and likely would be until someone commed Prowl that it was time to go home.

"Thank you for coming," he began, bowing politely to Prowl's creators, inclining his head to one of his older sisters, the medical-trained Impact, then his creators and the family physician for each ruling clade. "Everyone knows the basics? Something about Jazz is really setting Prowl off and we all want them both to be happy. That means working out what gives."

"Prowl happy." Impact murmured, sounding hopeful for a moment, then sighing as she slumped in her seat. "They should know that Prowl's obsession...may not last."

"Let's get everything on the floor," Sideswipe encouraged her. "Jazz is pretty freaked out by what's going on."

Impact considered, weaving back and forth before looking at her creators for permission, who nodded.

"Unless he told you in confidence," Lord Crystal added.

Impact laughed softly, looking around. "This is Prowl we are talking about. He is..." She met Sideswipes optics. "different. Until the reception tonight he had spent the last several decaorns discovering everything he could about a musician from your city, Sirenis."

"I know, and I know why," the red mech vented. "They have very similar voices. From what Prowl told Jazz, the voice is the draw. It creates a physical reaction. A rather intense one."

"Well, that certainly explains why Whisper had to drag him off to a side room so he could get himself under control." She frowned. "His voice?" That was a new one.

"As far as they've worked out," Sideswipe nodded. "But all we're really sure of is that as intense it is for Prowl, Jazz doesn't experience any kind of pull. I was wondering if he's been tested for Seeker resonance code."

"Yes," Lord Crystal said evenly. "It has not been active for generations, and it was not active in Prowl five orns ago." He glanced at First Aid for confirmation.

"Correct, my Lord," the red-visored slender mech inclined his helm. "Whatever he is experiencing has not left a physical or code trace."

"He was able to control himself last time." Impact pointed out, more to herself than to anyone else in the room, deeply concerned for her brother. Whisper was not one to panic, but not even she had been able to make sense of their brother's actions. "Is there something else it could be? Something else that your brother is doing?"

"It's not intentional, if he is. Jazz isn't the type to play with mechs. He may be social, but he's not a player. 'Facing has never been on his agenda," Sideswipe said firmly. "Prowl did control himself this time, until Jazz agreed to interface." His focus shifted to those with medical training. "What would happen if a mech encountered sound that resonated perfectly with their spark or chamber?"

"It's never been documented, that I know of," Impact glanced at the other two.

"Not that I have heard of." First Aid agreed, thoughtful. "It is entirely possible that it would cause a reaction, and that Lord Prowl's reaction manifests itself in the form of arousal."

"Agreed, I have not encountered it, but the theory is sound," Callback, the physician for the Protihexian royal house, said. "If the spark chamber vibrates, it stimulates the spark, which would increase the energy in all systems. The reaction would likely depend on the nature of the mech experiencing it as well as the extent of the harmonic."

"How would we find out?" Sideswipe asked, his focus sharp on the two physicians.

All concerned optics turned on the physicians.

"Well, observation is always helpful in such matters," Callback suggested.

"Yes. If they are agreeable, a few simple, controlled experiments could tell us a great deal," First Aid added, then glanced between the two sets of creators. "Is the goal to block this effect?"

"Perhaps, given the circumstances, they should have some say in the matter." Lady Cloud suggested quietly. She had no wish to see her youngest creation suffer for any reason.

"Of course, my Lady," First Aid said quickly. "It merely affects the focus of the tests. Blocking is much simpler than controlling, but not as pleasant if one wishes to enjoy the effects from time to time."

"What are the options and the risks? And are there any risks to Jazz?" Lady Rilla demanded.

"It would depend on the actual cause and effects, Lady Rilla," First Aid said smoothly. "If it is entirely on Prowl's side, then there would be no risks to Jazz. The worst he would experience is the embarrassment of interfacing in front of Physician Callback and myself if Prowl is pushed too far in the testing phase."

"There is no point in discussing options until we know more, and we will not know more until the tests are run." Impact stated, not at all pleased with idea of her brother being subjected to the tests but at a loss for a better idea. At least they were planning to ask the pair to agree. But ... they were so sweet together, with Prowl lounging against Jazz, so relaxed. Lightly tangled together, their nearly reversed color schemes had looked good together too.

"No, I suppose there is not," First Aid consented. "Who will alert them and tell them we would like to see them?"

"I will," Sideswipe said firmly, literally daring anyone to counter him. He opened his comm and pinged Jazz with the message and to get back to him when they were fit for company and not a moment sooner. Jazz wasn't the interface junkie Sideswipe and his twin were, but there was no way he'd interrupt a good 'facing just to see the doc.

Jazz moaned and thrust his hips up into the delightful sensation of Prowl's hand wrapped around both their spikes, flexible metal sliding against metal, all of it rich in sensors. Even though Prowl had him talk as much as he could, the mech also had a real thing for kissing, which Jazz also has no objection too. Still, he broke the kiss and tilted his head, whispering softly. Even the smallest of voiced sounds from him got a response from Prowl, and Jazz was starting to enjoy finding just what worked.

Even those whispers were enough to arch Prowl's helm back with a trembling moan of pure ecstasy, far more intense than the quickly building charge from their spikes. For a mech who Jazz knew hadn't had many lovers, or any for long, Prowl knew how to pleasure a frame with hands and mouth.

Taking advantage of the exposed neck Jazz nibbled and kissed, grinding a little harder against Prowl and wondering what it would be like to take the mech, to use his hands and his voice and his spike to drive Prowl over the edge. It was an enticing, erotic mental image, only encouraged by how wantonly tactile the mech above him.

With a shuddering moan Prowl's fingers tightened around their spikes and he thrust forward a lit harder a couple times. His helm was thrown back with a choked cry of ecstasy as he overloaded, spilling his transfluid over Jazz's abdominal plates and his own hand.

Jazz smirked a little as Prowl overloaded, waiting until the mech was coming down from the high before giving into the mental image tormenting him.

"Good? Here's an idea for ya." He purred, rubbing his whole frame against Prowl's. "You on my berth. My voice. My hands on your wings. My spike in your valve until nothin' else matters but what we're doin'."

With every word Prowl's engine revved hard, all the way to the end ... right up until his processor caught up with the meaning of the exquisitely pleasurable vibrations that caressed his spark as much as his audios.

Then the Praxian froze, his optics brightening with stress as he stared down.

Even though his chassis was perfectly still, his features flickered between fear and confusion. His EM field rippled, licking at Jazz's with remembered pain.

Pressed up against like he was there was no way Jazz could miss the change- the fear and the confusion and pain. It was the last that started him, made him step back mentally, hands still as he frowned.

::Easy. Easy.:: He murmured over a comm, searching for what had brought about this sudden change in a mech that had been so willing just moments before.

The comm was enough to snap Prowl back to reality and the Praxian looked down. "Important to you?" he asked unsteadily.

::Important to me that it feels good to ya.:: Jazz answered, still as he continued to study Prowl, watching as he calmed quickly and relaxed against the mech under him. ::Only that.::

"I don't enjoy valve play," Prowl said softly. "The rest sounds very good."

::Whatever feels good to ya.:: Fingers moved to run lightly down an arm, meant to be soothing instead of arousing at the moment. Prowl's reaction was troubling. Sure, everyone had preferences, most of those created or reinforced by experience, but to feel pain just at the thought of such a common act? Something very bad had happened to the mech in his arms.

"Your voice, your hands, your chassis," Prowl squeezed lightly around Jazz's spike, encouraging it to full arousal once more. "Your field when you're running hot," he added with a line of licking kisses to Jazz's throat.

Jazz groaned. "Like all of that, huh?"

"Yes," Prowl's voice vibrated against Jazz's plating as the EM field entwined with Jazz's flared hot and hard at the sounds flowing through him like a living thing. "Love your voice, what it does to me when we're in private," the Praxian admitted with a throaty groan as he slid down Jazz's chassis, trailing a line of fiery touches in his wake.

::They wanna see us sometime, so ya know. Sides said-:: Jazz broke off when Prowl reached his spike. "Primus, Prowl, ah-."

::I overloaded. You did not,:: Prowl said smoothly as he took the spike all the way down in a single motion, closing his intake tightly against the tip and humming. ::You feel so good when you're running this hot, nearly at a loss for words.::

"Thought ya, liked it when-," Jazz struggled for words. "when I talked. Wings?" He managed to offer, raising one hand.

::That feels good to me,:: Prowl actually chuckled as he flared his doorwings out, then up and into the waiting hands. ::You feel good on the edge, hot, bright, alive.::

Even in his heavily distracted state, Jazz couldn't miss the glyph-variants. The denotation that 'hot' and 'alive' were unique to the recipient, something the speaker did not experience. It was something else to add to the list of things that troubled him when it came to Prowl. A list of things he was growing more determined to solve the longer he was in the mech's presence.

He caught the doorwings, teasing and stroking them in all the right places to excite the Praxian, to bring him to overload again when Jazz came, to-

-to try and give back some of the feeling he was being given.

Electricity crackled over both their frames, through their entwined fields, ricocheting back and forth, amplifying with each pass until both mechs were trembling, right on the edge of an intense overload.

"Want. Want-." Jazz reached, stretching for the place on Prowl's wings he knew would finish pushing him over the edge. "Want you to feel."

With a cry around Jazz's spike and fingers tightening around black hips, Prowl surrendered to the intense rush of energy through his systems. Jazz let go a moment later, the concerns and worries momentarily burn away under the rush of energy and release flooding him.

Sideswipe slipped into his youngest brother's quarters three full joors after the meeting he'd connived had dispersed, determined to distract the new lovers before they got going again. He didn't even try to suppress the grin as he took in the sight of his black and white sibling entangled with the youngest Praxian royal on Jazz's berth. It was adorable. It's was fairly hot to look at, and very hot to think how they got so disheveled.

It explained plenty about why his comm hadn't been returned yet. Their armor was still pinging as it finished cooling. It was good that Jazz finally had a lover who could distract him so well.

Still, it would be good to get the conversation out of the way so they could get back to 'facing each other senseless. Maybe if he was quiet, they wouldn't ask him to leave.

Sideswipe snickered to himself before focusing on Jazz. "Hay, bro."

Jazz was denial. Someone was calling him, demanding his attention, however gently. But he didn't want to answer. He was warm, and comfortable, and tired.

But that good kind of tired, the kind where you were content with being that way.

"Jazz," that sing-song voice rich with humor that was the bane of his existence called out again.

"Go 'way. Not time yet." Jazz grumbled, still mostly out, just like a youngling.

Sideswipe laughed brightly and deeply, only quieting when doorwings snapped up and icy blue optics focused on him with a growl that was decidedly un-noble-like.

The growl brought Jazz most of the rest of the way around, looking from Prowl to Sideswipe. Without really thinking about it he wrapped an arm around Prowl's waist. "Sides? What are you doin'?"

"Came to get an answer about that comm I sent you over three joors ago," the red mech chuckled, watching as Prowl settled down without the least apparent concern for his state, that he was in another's berth or that mech's older brother was standing over them. "Figured I'd catch you before you distracted each other again."

Jazz, as soon as his processor finally caught up with his surroundings, cringed. The reaction was not from what he done, or the fact that he was still rather intimately tangled with Prowl.

No. It was the fact that it was Sideswipe who was standing over them, and Sideswipe who was never going to let him live this down. "We got 'em. Just..."

"Got distracted," the grin above the black and whites broadened. "I'm just here to make sure I get an answer before you are again."

"Yes," Prowl said simply.

Jazz looked at him. ::Did I miss a question somewhere?::

::The comm. He asked if we were willing to have tests run to see if my ... condition ... can be understood, or at least controlled.:: Prowl responded.

Jazz vented softly. ::And I'm supposin' since you're here they're wantin' us now?::

He listened for his brother to answer, but his gaze was locked on Prowl, studying the mech. What Prowl felt about what was happening was a question Jazz wanted answered. One he was belatedly realizing should have possibly been answered before they had let it go this far.

"Well, the sooner you two talk to the docs, the sooner you can be undisturbed until Prowl goes home," Sideswipe pointed out reasonably. "You really do make an adorable couple."

Prowl shifted his gaze to Jazz. "You have a private wash rack large enough?"

::Should work. Or I'll wait 'till you're done.:: Jazz answered reasonably.

"Why don't you clean up, Prowl. I'll keep Jazz entertained until you're done," Sideswipe waved towards the washroom door. "Want a servant to help?"

"Thank you, but I'll comm my own," Prowl told the red mech as he almost reluctantly extracted himself from Jazz's berth. He'd forgotten how nice it was to recharge with another. "Cleaning a Praxian frame is a specialized skill."

Jazz watched him go, glancing at his door with a brief flicker of annoyance. ::I guess one of us will 'ave to let his servant in.::

"Don't worry, I will. You can cover up," Sideswipe winked at him as they both watched Prowl walk to the door and disappear when the door closed behind him. "He is a looker, and you two do look good together."

For a moment Jazz just glared. Then the glare died down into confusion and worry as he collapsed on the berth. ::I don't like strangers in my room.:: It was childish, a cover for the swirling emotions pulling at him.

A gentle touch on his shoulder let Jazz know his brother knew exactly what was really going on.

"I know, but you can't blame him for being cautious who he lets near those wings. He's just trying to not get hurt. Now, was he as good as it looks?" Sideswipe purred. "And you can drop the comm. You know he can't hear."

Jazz leaned into the touch, asking for the comfort if his brother was willing to share.

"Yes. No. It's wrong." His voice was still soft, a whisper, though it gained strength at the end.

"Wrong?" Sideswipe cocked his head and sat on the edge of the berth, exactly how he did when he was a young mech and Jazz only a youngling struggling to make sense of the world and his place in it.

Jazz leaned against the red mech, taking a minute to focus. "To get your pit spawned curiosity satisfied and outta the way, the mech is good. Good with his hands. Good with his mouth."

"Which means there's a story in what you aren't saying he's good at," Sideswipe said almost gently, stroking Jazz's sensory horns gently, a touch meant to sooth rather than arouse. "Probably an unpleasant one involving a former lover."

"Be the best guess. Someone hurt him. Hurt, bad." Jazz shivered and leaned closer. "And now I'm a new mess in his life."

"Maybe, but you care about him," Sideswipe smiled, only to sigh and go silent when a servant pinged for admittance. "Be right back, little bro," he promised as he stood, careful not to jostle Jazz too much and went to the door. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Jazz was covered as much as he wanted to, then opened the door to a prim looking Praxian femme of sky blue, soft cream and silver with a striking white chevron. "In the washroom," he motioned towards the interior door, belatedly noting that she had a small duffle of supplies, most likely special ones from home.

She nodded and all but glided across the room, inclining her helm to Jazz before the washroom door opened to admit her, then closed again.

"So, it's a mess," Sideswipe began at he sat down on the berth again. "Could be worse. It's not like you're bonded or sparked, right?"

"Shouldn't be." Jazz answered, leaning into him immediately. "Sometimes I listen when ya talk. No sparks since the first time. And I..."

At the moment he wasn't sure how to put into words his feelings for Prowl. About Prowl. On one level knew the mech intimately. On another level, he knew nothing.

"You're starting to feel protective of him, starting to see him as a person," Sideswipe said with a soft smile. "That's not a bad thing, you know. It's a good start to falling in love."

"Only if it's returned." Jazz whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.

"Ah, little bro," Sideswipe rubbed his sensor horns. "Remember, love has to be made and the place to start is caring. So you care about him. Just give him a reason to care about you by being yourself. If you both want it, you've got a good chance. I've looked into him and he's not a bad match for you if you two decide to go for it. If not, you'll have really good 'facing while it lasts."

"Maybe." Jazz agreed, allowing the word to be a universal answer.

Sideswipe chuckled and rubbed his helm affectionately. "You'll see, little bro. I'm not wrong about these things."

Jazz just grunted and they both fell into a semi-relaxed sort of silence until the door to the washroom opened and Prowl stepped out. His plating now gleamed as flawlessly as it did when he'd been introduced to the family. His servant hadn't just cleaned him, but done a very respectable job of detailing him given the lack of proper facilities for it.

"Thank you for the use of you washroom," Prowl said formally, his servant the Praxian-proper arm and a quarter behind his doorwing's back edge.

Jazz nodded, studying Prowl for a minutes as he ignored the strange servant still present in his room. Sideswipe was right. Prowl certainly did clean up well, much better than Jazz did when he was simply Jazz. Just another reason for later...

He shook off those thoughts for the moment. ::Welcome. Meanin' it's my turn, I'm guessin'.::

"Yes," Prowl inclined his head, torn between escaping while he could with some face and staying to face Jazz's older brother. Something he would have to do soon if he intended to keep Jazz for himself. Keeping Jazz meant courting Jazz and that meant winning over his family as much as the mech himself. They were both younger creations, outside the expected line of succession, but they were still both royals of powerful city-states.

In the few sparkbeats it took to choose and Jazz to disappear into the washroom, Sideswipe studied Prowl. The red mech hid his smile while the Praxian waved his servant to leave and faced him squarely.

"I intend to court Jazz when the doctors are done with us," Prowl said firmly.

"Good to know, seeing as he's my little brother I'd rather not have to hurt you for breaking his spark." Sideswipe answered. "Thinking like that though, a little quick for someone you've known less than an orn."

Just because he liked him and thought they would make a good match didn't mean he was going to go easy on him, at first. If Prowl could answer to his satisfaction though, the mech might find himself with a very valuable ally.

"You are well aware of the affect he has on me," Prowl answered, his voice as even and calm as the carriage of his doorwings. "That is reason enough to court him. I admit I have not had the time to learn how Protihex handles courting. However, in Praxus it was designed for those who were promised to each other to form a strong relationship before they bonded. The first stage is to learn all about the other."

"Good start, so long as the two of you can spend time together without you jumping him at every turn." Sideswipe had no reason to believe his creators would refuse the arrangement, so long as Jazz was willing to go along with it. The fact that Prowl seemed intent with going about this the right way would help matters on all sides.

"We have learned that as long as he uses a comm line I do not have the ... unusual response," Prowl said a bit stiffly. "While it is not optimal, it is functional until a better solution can be found. We can communicate as easily as any other couple, as long as we are careful."

Sideswipe nodded easily, the inconvenience annoying but completely functional. One more question before he either started helping the mech, or tossed him out of his brother's quarters on his head. "And if someone else comes up?"

Prowl paused, giving him a curious look. "A little more context, please. For Jazz or myself? A royal, noble or commoner? Are they interested in one of us or is one of us interested in them?"

"Someone else that can do the same thing that Jazz does to you." Sideswipe clarified. He knew Jazz and Sirenis were one and the same, but this was uncharted territory from what everyone was telling him. He also understood the in's and out's of a normal relationship very well, should either of them stumble across someone else who caught their optic.

"It would depend largely on Jazz," Prowl's doorwings trembled visibly, nearly vibrating as they hiked into a tight V of distress. "It is something I intend to discuss with him before I leave. At a minimum we will have to come to an understanding of just how little self-control I have against it. If someone else can, and they approach me, it is very unlikely I will refuse even if I should. I have hope that these test will improve my odds of doing the right thing."

Sideswipe nodded slowly, content with that answer. Rising, he stopped in front of Prowl, facing the mech. "Jazz won't ask you to do something you can't."

Doorwings relaxed, though not completely. "It can still hurt him, something I do not wish to do," Prowl said quietly, then squared himself to look Sideswipe in the optics. "As long as I treat him well, do I have your support to court your youngest brother?"

"My support," Sideswipe allowed a small smile. "And any help I can offer along the way." His smile widened when Prowl let out an audible vent of relief.

"Thank you."

Sighing softly, Jazz wrapped his arms around the Praxian, mindful of the doorwings and still shivering occasionally from the last bits of energy from that last overload. The tests had been stressful for everyone involved, but especially for Prowl. The mech had been so worked up Jazz had barely had time to get him somewhere private before dealing with the problem.

Slow fingers trailed down white arm plating as he thought. The medics' conclusions, what they had been discussing between themselves, was lost on Jazz. What was painfully fresh in his processor was how much he affected Prowl, and watching him undergo the tests.

A soft hum as Prowl's systems came back online and Jazz stilled. ::Better?::

"Yes, thank you," Prowl murmured, nuzzling him affectionately. "I'm glad we made it to your rooms."

::Me too.:: Jazz continued to stroke the smooth plating of the Praxians frame. ::That couldn' been comfortable. I'm sorry.::

"It is not your fault," Prowl reminded him. "These tests, as unpleasant as they are, will provide me a way to have a normal functioning." He reached up to lightly trace his fingers down Jazz's chest plates. "I have spoken to Sideswipe, but I would have your answer before I take it to our creators." He shifted up to look Jazz in the visor. "I would court you, to get to know you fully, if you permit."

Jazz froze, visor dim as he considered his answer. His fingers resumed motion long before he answered. ::I'd like that, long as it is somethin' you want.::

"I do," Prowl said firmly, leaning in to kiss Jazz in relief. "Tell me a little about yourself? What you want in a bonded?"

Jazz shook his head, resisting the urge to laugh. A bonded? That had been low on his list of things to consider lately. He really had no idea, except...::Someone I can trust. Someone that'll stand beside me. Someone who loves my family.:: There was a slight bitterness there on that last part. ::Thank ya again, for the other night.::

"Mmm, someone who shares interests?" Prowl suggested. "Who you enjoy spending time with?"

::That makes any relationship better. Thinkin' it be important in a bondmate.:: Jazz glanced around his room, his hobby and the key to his other life, his music, clearly evident. ::If I remember right it was my hobby that started this mess.::

"Mmm, yes, though we would have crossed paths eventually," Prowl pointed out, then hesitated. "Exclusive?"

Jazz was pretty sure he knew what Prowl was asking, but to be sure. ::Exclusive?::

"Do you want your mate exclusive, do you expect yourself to be?" Prowl spelled it out.

::I, if I finda mate, I will be. For them...:: Jazz twitched, thinking of his recent conversations with Sideswipe. ::If ya love someone, ya love them for who they are, right?::

"Yes," Prowl said without hesitation, shifting to look Jazz in the optics again. "What you want and what you accept are not always the same. You want your mate to be exclusive, even if you accept that I may not be able to fulfill that desire."

Jazz nodded. He would not ask of someone more than they could give, even if it was a standard he held himself to.

Prowl shuttered his optics and lowered his helm to touch Jazz's. "There is one other whose voice affects me." He somehow kept his voice steady despite what memories of that night still did to him. "A commoner, a signer that goes by Sirenis."

Jazz went momentarily stiff, then forced himself to relax. ::And ya plan on seein' him again?::

"I arranged a meeting before I came here," Prowl sighed and settled against Jazz's side without looking at him. "The first time we met he refused me thanks to a chit from my carrier. I intended to pursue him, but now ... since you prefer I not have a plaything I will try and recruit him for these tests. The more data the scientists have the more likely they can find a solution so I am no longer a slave to it."

::A plaything?:: Jazz repeated, distressed for reasons that Prowl could not understand. But he wanted an explanation. After seeing what Prowl went through he could understand why Prowl would be driven to pursue his other identity, but if that was how the mech viewed those of lower social standing than himself...

"That's what Springer calls them," Prowl murmured. "A commoner you only want for your berth. Before you, there wouldn't be much fuss if I ended up liking him and wanting more. Now, everything's changed."

::Changed for the better?:: Jazz asked, wondering how Prowl was going to respond when he found out the truth. While Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were renown for their habits, Sideswipe had made it quite clear that they were always considerate of their berthmates.

Prowl was still for a moment, then flicked a doorwing. "Just changed. I only found out this affect existed a few decaorns ago. Now there are two, which means it's not a singular quirk and likely exists in others. It's no longer just one mech who sets off protocols I wasn't sure were even active anymore."

::What protocols?:: Jazz asked, covering up his discomfort at his continuing deception.

"Interfacing, physical desire," he answered quietly. "It's been a while."

Tilting his head to catch Prowls optics, Jazz reached up to trace Prowl face. ::What happened?::

"It's never been strong, not even when first installed," Prowl flicked his doorwing. "The lovers I've had haven't given me much reason to try and change it."

::Then ya ain't have very good lovers.:: Jazz commented, shifting to kiss Prowl gently.

::Perhaps,:: he nearly moaned across the comm as desire flared up, an unfamiliar thing as he sought to deepen the kiss. ::Or just not the right one.::

It was Jazz who broke the kiss, nuzzling at Prowl as he considered the mech's reaction. ::Maybe you've found him.::

::I can hope so,:: Prowl remained on the comm line, his doorwings trembling as he pressed them up and forward, silently asking for attention. ::I would like that.::

Jazz considered for a moment before reaching out, fingers playing lightly over one wing for the moment. He tipped his helm to the side when Prowl shifted to kiss him there and purred softly, simply enjoying the contact for a moment. But if this was all he spent him time doing, not that he didn't enjoy it, he was never going to figure out the rest of Prowl. He abandoned the doorwing, wrapping an arm around Prowl's waist instead. ::When are you supposed to be meeting him?::

::In three orns,:: Prowl settled into the light contact easily, his fingers and lips brushing against Jazz's plating without demand. ::Assuming he accepts the invitation.::

::Will ya stay until then, or do ya need to get back?:: Jazz asked, some of the tension he hadn't realized he was holding onto draining away with the contact.

::I will stay,:: Prowl murmured as his fingers slid over Jazz's hood. ::I will return when things are settled with him. I have very few duties to tend to yet.::

::Good. What do ya do?::

::I specialize in the statistical side of city finance, military tactics, investigative and Intel,:: Prowl actually had a touch of excitement in his voice. ::If it has to do with percentages and ratio of success, I will have some hand in it eventually.::

::Hm. An intelligent mech.:: Jazz tone was light and teasing. While he understood the importance of such things, dealing with them on a personal level was something he was much happier leaving to mechs like Prowl, who it appeared enjoyed such challenges.

::And according to most, a very dull one,:: Prowl chuckled despite the hurt. ::What are you training to do?::

::Not dull.:: Jazz countered instantly, instinctively. Already he had observed too much of the mech to believe that. Then he offered a little half shrug with his answer. ::My creators pretty much let me do what I want, right now, so long as I'm not in trouble. They encourage my hobby.::

::Mmm, what do you do with music?::

::I write. I play a couple of instruments, not well. Sometimes I sing. My hobby.:: Jazz repeated.

::Would you sing for me, sometime?:: Prowl asked softly, more than half expecting to be denied.

Jazz considered, actually wanting to share something that was so dear to him, and nodded. ::Of course. After this is all sorted out, or when ya don't care if it is. Just ask.::

Prowl smiled and shifted to kiss him softly, drawing the chaste kiss out as one hand slid along Jazz's hip. ::Thank you. Have you had many lovers?::

::A few, though I believe that ya are the first that has not been thoroughly investigated and generally tested 'fore being allowed my way. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker can be ... protective.::

::Similarly, though I usually do my own investigation,:: Prowl smiled faintly. ::Impact is the most protective of my kin, but it's Springer you need to watch out for. Once he decides he doesn't like you, he tends to be very destructive in the frontal assault manner.::

::I'll make sure to watch my step.:: Jazz commented, wondering exactly what Prowl had looked into concerning his lovers, if his experiences had been so bad. ::Though I'm still more afraid of your sister.::

Prowl actually laughed at that, a sweet, easy sound. ::Smart. Springer you'll see coming. Impact will catch you when you least expect it.::

::Exactly. And while I don't have much practice with sisters I've dealt with my fair share of medics. Some things are universal.:: Jazz marveled at the sounds of that laugh, leaning into Prowl at the sound as he made a private vow to bring it out more often.

::Mmm, there are two kinds of medics. She's the scary kind. First Aid is the sweet kind. If I ever have a sparkling, I intend to go to him.::

::Ya think ya'll want sparklings?:: It was a casual question, mere curiosity.

::Eventually,:: Prowl hummed thoughtfully. ::It is not an ambition in my functioning, but I believe it would be nice when I am older, established and stable in a bond.::

Jazz nodded in agreement, stroking, thoughtful.

::Do you ever perform?:: Prowl asked innocently.

::For my family.:: Jazz answered truthfully. ::A little here 'n there for charity stuff where a royal appearance makes a difference.::

The Praxian hummed thoughtfully. ::Any other hobbies?::

::I dance a little, and look after Serenity. But mostly it's the music.::

A low, heavy rev of Prowl engine greeted the thought of Jazz dancing. ::What style do you enjoy?::

Jazz smiled, amused. ::Whatever I feel like at the time. I never dance in public- Sere dosen' count.::

::No, she wouldn't,:: he agreed, his fingers playing over Jazz's plating with a little more intent. ::I'm planning to become a detective when I finish my statistical training, until the city needs me.::

The mech shivered but focused on satisfying his curiosity instead. ::A noble ambition. Will ya stay in Praxus?::

::That has been the plan. Courting you changes several variables. I am no longer sure.::

::You'd come to Protihex?::

::I would consider it,:: Prowl responded with a gentle kiss. ::Though I will eventually have duties in Praxus to tend to that I can not abandon.::

::Then maybe it's a good thing I've got nothin' tying me here.:: His family was here, and Protihex was the only home he had ever known. The only one he had ever wanted. But there were no responsibilities waiting for him, not like Prowl's.

::There is no reason I am aware of preventing us from having a residence in both cities,:: Prowl pointed out. ::I would be needed in Praxus one decaorn out of three, but the majority of the work does not require my presence in the city.::

::That would work well.:: Jazz replied, snuggling closer to the Praxian as Prowl reached up to caress his small, square sensor horns, exploring them.

Jazz practically purred. ::That works well too, by the way.::

::Good to know,:: Prowl smiled and kissed his way down Jazz's jaw to his throat as he continued to fondle the stubby horns. ::Why don't you tell me something else you enjoy?::

::Those seams you found last time? The ones right here...:: Jazz's hand traced down his own side, emphasizing several areas, now thoroughly distracted from whatever line of questioning he had been planning to pursue next.

Prowl smiled against Jazz's throat and moved one hand to follow Jazz's fingers, pressing into the seams to tease wires.

::Touch. I like touch. You. You like-:: "Words." Jazz finished, feeling Prowl's systems heat fast and his field lash out with intense arousal. "Though you still have yet to tell me which kind best."

It took several sharp pants for Prowl to gather his wits enough to respond. "Don't know," he finally moaned, trembling against Jazz's chassis at the sudden assault to his spark.

"Well, guess I'll just have to find out then." Jazz murmured, reaching up to trace Prowl's face. "The soft kind, where I tell you how beautiful you are. How handsome you are, " his fingers moved over the brilliant chevron, "how much I just want to kiss you." As he pulled Prowl down, actions suiting words with tender kiss. Prowl's mouth opened willingly against his, moans spilling from his vocalizer as he struggled to remember to continue touching Jazz.

"Nice, but not it." Jazz smiled when the kiss broke. "Commanding? Pleading? Begging?" He leaned in close to Prowl's audio. "Dirty?"

A full-chassis shudder rubbed Prowl against him with a tiny whimper. The Praxian was all but past thinking, only able to respond on a visceral level as he sought physical pleasure to go with the charge building in him.

Jazz pushed at him. "Over. Facedown."

The throaty sound that escaped along with immediate obedience was all Jazz needed to know he was on the right track. He also saw some definite signs of either a very strong fantasy or conditioning from a former lover in the way Prowl raised his hands over his head and held them close together.

The action was enough to make him hesitate for a moment. Then he moved, straddling the prone form, his target now perfectly in reach as his hands settled on the doorwings spread before him. "You." He started softly, fingers sweeping in the lightest of touches. "At my mercy. Trapped, while I do exactly as I please."

Past any true ability to think, Prowl could only arch into the touch, into that voice. The sensor-rich doorwings fluttered and pushed, rubbing against Jazz's hands when they didn't move enough.

"Feeling my touch. Feeling my voice." His hands ran outward over the smooth wings again before tracing the edges firmly. "Wanting more."

"Always," Prowl whimpered, his chassis dancing with electricity. His hands clenched and released, trying to find some self-control from the weight on his back and the certainty of the voice there.

Jazz's hands swept back in, pressing into the joints where the wings joined Prowl's frame. "Taking it all, to return later. Every word, every touch, to give back." He leaned down, pressing his lips to the sensitive surface, fingers still working on the joints.

Prowl cried out, his systems burning hot as he trembled and arched, his chassis crackling, sending jolts of energy directly into Jazz's penetrative interface module to dance along the housed spike and between the nodes of his valve.

Jazz cried out in reply, almost overloading on the spot when systems denied for too were long suddenly stimulated so strongly. His fingers twitched as he pulled them from the joints, pressing against the wings that pressed back, twitching to stimulate themselves until Prowl screamed his overload, pouring energy into Jazz where they touched.

The rush was enough to cause Jazz to loose his own fight for control, frame locking as he overloaded. He caught himself as the energy died away, barely avoiding falling forward on to the lax, barely on-line form under him.

"Love your voice," Prowl murmured, his doorwings twitching lightly in pure pleasure.

::Love the way you respond to it.:: Jazz answered, falling back to the comm almost by default, moving off the mech carefully before burrowing in beside the Praxian.