Another explicit chapter, so off to Ao3 if you want to read it all.

archiveofourown dot org/works/562319/chapters/1131452

Dark Dreamer 9: Rebuilding Bonds
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prowl booted up, the slow progression of medical overrides, and relaxed into it. Medical meant safe. Master's field brushed against his plating and he flared his field out to caress it in return, happy and eager to be with Master once more. The past metacycle had been extremely distressing and he desperately wished to forget, but he knew the most he could do was tag it as distressing and archive it to long term storage as quickly as he could process it for anything he needed to keep active awareness of.

He had his armor back. Someone must have retrieved it. It felt so good to be covered again. Very good. It felt better to feel Master's hands on his plating and the steady strength of his field. Warm, strong, commanding, balanced ... balanced enough.

Prowl noted the new perspective and looked more closely, studying it for an origin and purpose. His processors nearly stalled completely when he found it.

The room, those beings, had changed his very spark code.

He knew his distress was pouring off him. He knew Master and the medic were trying to reach him. All he could do was stare at his own spark code and try to comprehend the glyph that had been stripped out and replaced by something he wasn't even entirely sure he understood. Yet the missing glyph was the one that caused him so much distress and displeased Master. As strange as it felt, he could not be displeased at that.

Ice blue optics powered up and focused on Master as the soothing calm of acceptance washed through Prowl. He reached up weakly to take Master's hand and kissed it.

Jazz's field immediately relaxed, soothed by the contact. "How are you feeling?"

"Slightly disoriented, Master," Prowl admitted.

"That is normal, my lovely, perfect pet," Jazz said reassuringly, his engine purring at the contact and response and he leaned down to capture Prowl's mouth in a welcoming kiss. Prowl's hands came up to caress Jazz's sides, fingers teasing his master's seams as his field licked along the silver mech's with open desire.

"Not disoriented enough to behave," Temperance huffed. "If you're that amorous, you can get out."

"Yes, ma'am," Jazz laughed with relief and teasing as he stood upright and offered a hand to Prowl to help him to his pedes. It wasn't needed, but it was a gesture Jazz knew made Prowl feel wanted. And oh was he wanted. The flicker and brush of Prowl's field against his was proof enough that at least this much hadn't changed.

They made it to their quarters in record time, given Prowl still didn't have an alt mode. It was all a blur until time slowed down on their berth with Prowl relaxed on his back and Jazz sprawled on top of him, their mouths joined and hands caressing, exploring, seeking to wipe a metacycle of absence and stress away.

Jazz could feel the difference in his pet's field, and to a lesser extent in his touch. Like every mecha that went into that room, Prowl had been changed on a fundamental level. He had matured, rapidly and unnaturally, but Jazz knew that it was the least of the changes made in his pet. He stroked Prowl's main dataport, the one under his collar plating. It spiraled open eagerly.

Prowl's field flared eagerly, almost grasping at the smaller mech in his desire to have Master inside him.

"Shu, shu," Jazz crooned as he unspooled his cable. "I'm here. I'm with you."

Under him Prowl whined and squirmed, wanting so badly it ached. The moment Jazz clicked in a wave of relief-welcome washed through Prowl, making him shiver and moan. Firewalls, now good enough to keep Jazz out for a respectable chunk of time fell like gossamer mist, clearing his view of his pet's processors to the crystal perfection he had long known.

He touched it with a thought and gazed for a moment, sending Prowl the wonder he always felt here. He felt the returning shivers and caught Prowl's mouth in another kiss as he pushed forward through the hardline, exploring what changes had happened in that room. The first thing that hit him was that Prowl had a perfect, to the nanoklik complete memory of the entire metacycle.

~May I?~ Jazz asked, one of the few occasions when he would give his pet a real choice in something. In response, Prowl guided him forward to the moment when the silence had first been broken by the voice.

He watched and listened through Prowl's senses to an experience that was so vastly different from his own in that room that he forgot, for a moment, to mask his stunned surprise and the emotion went surging through the hardline. He felt Prowl tense beneath him and fingers tightened around his hips, concerned. Jazz immediately paused and pulled back from the memory.

~Shu, shu,~ Jazz cooed, kissing his pet gently. ~I've never known anyone to recall more than a hazy sense of what they chose. That you remember is remarkable.~ He paused, kissing him again. ~That it wasn't simply an hallucination I was not ready for.~

Prowl nodded, welcoming the kisses and offering a sense of understanding. ~Do you want to view the rest?~

~Yes,~ Jazz whispered, and sank back into the memory, this time more prepared to hear the voices that he only dimly remembered as being background to his own near-insanity. They had echoed inside him, made his frame reverberate down to his spark. In his memories, they mixed with the sounds of his own voice, cracked with static as he flung out screams and protests and curses in response to their choices.

But Prowl...Prowl had spoken with them, engaged them in calm, logical argument.

Prowl had refused to choose one of them, and he had lived.

"Balance," Jazz heard in Primus's voice. The memory moved forward and he heard Prowl's request to remain with him, and he sent a surge of gratitude and affection through to the mech, for choosing of his own will to return.

The memory made it all too clear that it was not a fear of deactivation that kept him in his frame. In fact, the fear and pain that was so prevalent in the bits and pieces of Jazz's experience seemed completely absent from Prowl's.

His pet simply did not find such things terrifying.

It was amazing. And it drew Jazz's interest to what else had changed, subtle but there.

Prowl's spark.

There was no resistance, only an uneasy acceptance in Prowl as Jazz worked his way to the young spark and nudged it for its glyphs.

The four swirled around him before settling to be read. Four he expected, but even before reading them he knew it would not be the pattern of every other agent.

Serve
Know
Create
Destroy

No where was Protect, the glyph that had nearly driven Prowl mad in his efforts to both protect and serve his master.

Carefully masking his own fascination and pleasure at the changes, something that he was going to fully explore later, Jazz looked up into Prowl's optics. ~How do you feel about this?~ he asked. ~Does it please you?~

~It will make functioning easier,~ Prowl said carefully, investigating the concept of being pleased. It still wasn't a glyph he understood well. ~Yes, I believe it pleases me.~

~Good,~ Jazz purred, gently backing away from the deep center of Prowl's processor, slipping back up until he was on a level Prowl was comfortable with. He sent a heavy pulse of desire through the hardline and immediately felt it mirrored back. ~I have been impatient to have you back,~ he said, and tucked the discoveries he'd made in Prowl's memories and spark away to be contemplated later. Right now...

He wanted to claim his pet all over again, and he started by pushing forward with a deep, searing kiss.

Like always and in all things, Prowl welcomed him, met his advance and matched it with all the passion and desire in him.

Strong dark hands moved along Jazz's flanks, Prowl's desire to reacquaint just as intense. He adored Master and very much wanted Master to know it in every way possible.

Jazz slid their frames together, heating quickly under Prowl's hands. He'd craved this more than he was willing to admit, gone so far as to seek out partners with similar frames to Prowl. Even Whiplash had commented, and Jazz couldn't bring himself to care. Not when this-this, he thought with a gasp as fingers moved around to his back and aft-was his to have and own. He swirled their glossas together, already worked to the point of moaning with just that little contact.

and this is where it gets explicit, so off to Ao3 if you want to read it.

archiveofourown dot org/works/562319/chapters/1131452