LtSprinkles requested Prowls mating protocols, and it reminded me that I had this on my phone…
I started writing it when 'Get Lucky' by Daft Punk came out (It was entirely coincidence I swear) if this gives any indication as to how long this has been brewing…
090909
He didn't normally see him like this.
Usually when Jazz had dragged him to a party in the rec room, he would just sit in the corner and try his hardest to spot where Jazz had disappeared to in the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor in front of the DJ while he nursed a single cube of high grade which he rarely finished before he scampered back to his quarters.
But today, he could see Jazz clearly. There were the same number of mechs dancing, the lights were dim, the music was loud and he'd been drinking and yet Jazz still stuck out like a sore thumb.
His optics focused solely on Jazz, no matter how hard he tried to tear them away, and his engine started purring when the other mechs dancing took a more proactive swing. Control of his body was quickly slipping out of his grasp.
He didn't like it.
He gingerly got to his feet and quickly left the rec room, making a mental note to apologise to Jazz later, rushing to his quarters and locking the door.
Prowl felt too hot and his head was swimming. Thinking about the other black and white made it even worse.
He direly hoped that he wasn't entering what he thought he was.
When he was about two vorns into his adult frame, he had gone into his first mating cycle. His Sire had explained it to him and Prowl was incredibly thankful that he wasn't close with anyone, as if he was he'd be relentlessly chasing them in the hopes of sparking them. So, he spent the entirety of it trying to resist humping the closest pillow. However, now was incredibly different.
He was close to someone.
Prowl most definitely did not want to target them. At all. It would be humiliating to say the least, especially if he was rejected.
Well, he'd need to inform Prime - he wouldn't be getting any work done. Encountering his suspected target had a low probability so he wasn't worried about that at all.
Optimus didn't attend parties in the rec room very often, usually spending his free time in his quarters catching up on lost sleep - human authorities were the worst at keeping him in meetings - so Prowl knew he was likely in his office working to compensate for his downtime.
::Prime, are you free?::
::What do you need?::
::I need to talk to you about something::
::The door's open::
Prowl quickly scampered over and opened the door, stepping in the moment he could. The Prime raised an eyebrow at that but didn't comment on it.
"What was it you wanted to talk about?"
"I suspect that I am due to fall under the influence of a mating cycle very shortly."
Optimus blinked at him. "I'm sorry?"
"A Praxian mating cycle." Prowl repeated.
"What is that?" Optimus asked, looking slightly bewildered. It clicked with Prowl - Optimus would have never encountered one before. They usually stopped during wartime, and Optimus would have never met a mech going through one in Iacon.
"It's where a Praxian Sire will attempt to spark a Carrier - the frame doesn't matter - and they will relentlessly chase the mech or femme of their choosing until the cycle ends or sparking occurs."
"And you suspect you are about to go through one?"
"It has already started."
"What can I expect?"
"Me to be violent towards anyone I see as a threat and constantly hunting down the mech of my choosing."
The Prime nodded, a deep rumbling coming from his throat. "Do you have any ideas as to who it is you'll be chasing?"
Prowl hesitated. It felt as though vocalising it would make it very real. But the Prime was waiting, he had to deliver. "I have reason to believe that it will be Jazz."
The Prime nodded and was about to reply when the door shwooshed open and none other than the Arks resident saboteur casually sauntered in. He grinned at the Prime and gave him a cheeky wave.
Speak of the devil.
"Hey Prime, Ah've been wonderin' where Prowler is. Red directed meh here, have ya seen 'im?"
The Prime stayed silent, his optics glued onto Prowl. When Jazz came in, his optics gained a glassy far away look and he was standing there just staring at him with his jaw hanging slack. It was a slightly unnerving sight, the usually reserved tactician showing very openly what he was feeling. When the Prime didn't reply, he followed his optics and turned around to face the datsun and he paused.
He laughed uneasily. "Prowler? Ya feelin' alrigh'?"
"Just fine." He replied, seemingly in a daze. Jazz quickly glanced back at the Prime before he spoke again. "Ah'm takin' ya ta see Ratch'." Before anyone could protest, much less formulate an answer, he had grabbed onto Prowls hand and he was pulling him out of the room. Prowl followed like a loyal dog and didn't protest, just watching Jazz with a faraway look and now the slightest bit of dribble.
Ratchet, even though he was a big partygoer and rarely missed one, was holed up in his medbay. Too many times had a mech said 'hey, hold my high-grade!' And done something incredibly stupid. He was fed up of leaving early to deal with them.
He was not expecting Jazz to walk in, and even less Prowl. He thought that they'd be sensible and not do anything potentially endangering. He was about to demand what they'd done before he noticed how weirdly Prowl was acting.
"What did you do to him?" Ratchet growled, quickly rounding on Jazz. He was NOT in the mood to be dealing with a crashed Prowl - his battle computer was the worst to stop over heating.
"Ah didn' do anythin'! Ah found 'im like this."
"Get him on a berth."
Jazz awkwardly manoeuvred Prowl onto a berth, Prowl seemed more interested in snatching sneaky feels of Jazz than sitting down, and waited for Ratchet to return with some equipment. He ran a quick scan on Prowl and swore.
"Wha'?!" Jazz exclaimed, immediately jumping to attention. Ratchet pressed hiss lips together in a thin line before allowing himself a grin. It wasn't a nice, friendly grin made of sunshine and rainbows. No. It was the kind of grin that made your skin crawl and filled you with a feeling of dread.
"It appears that he's entering his mating cycle."
"His what?!"
"Praxian mating cycle. He's a Sire, so he's going to be going gaga over the Carrier of his choice."
"Who is it?"
Ratchet laughed. "It's probably you!"
Jazz froze. What. "Ah thought mating cycles stopped during times of war." He had to be kidding.
"So did I. It may be his battle computer screwing with his protocols."
The purring of Prowls systems became that much louder and he was suddenly overcome with the insane desire to run. "Don't run, he'll chase you. I'll sedate him to give you a head start, but from then onwards you're on your own. He will be violent." Ratchet was most certainly not planning on having his aft handed to him by an angry Praxian. Sedating him would make him even worse!
Jazz nervously nodded and watched as Ratchet persuaded Prowl to stick his arm out and expose the energon line in his elbow. Prowl was acting weirdly.
Oh Primus there was going to be a betting pool on this. He could almost taste it.
He immediately decided that everyone who participated was going into the brig.
He snapped back to the present when he heard Prowl slump back onto the berth, optics offline. Ratchet nodded at Jazz whom didn't need telling twice. He immediately turned and sprinted out of the medbay as fast as his legs could take him, ignoring the calls of his name and the questions thrown at him. He had no idea where he should go to hide from Prowl.
He briefly considered just letting Prowl have his way, but quickly crushed that thought. Prowl would be overrun with guilt, and he didn't think that he'd be able to handle Prowl losing interest the moment it was over, or how their carefully built friendship would be irreparably damaged after. He wasn't going to deny that he had been pinning after the mech for vorns - excluding the four million years spent in stasis - but he just knew that Prowl would never return the feelings. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth and an ache in his chest.
While he was lost in his thoughts, he had started to slow down. Clearly, he had underestimated the mating cycles ability to process sleeping drafts as he was snapped back to the present by Prowl calling his name.
But it wasn't like he usually called his name, that well-known indifferent tone completely absent. Instead it was replaced with a tone Jazz might call him with when teasing him.
Jazz knew he was screwed before his tires even hit the ground as he transformed, shooting out of the entrance to the base. Prowls sirens kicked in behind him and Jazz felt a thrill of fear shoot through him.
Primus help him!
090909
He didn't know how he did it, but Jazz had lost Prowl. He briefly considered pretending to be a car and being sold, however he didn't think Optimus would approve of the idea once this was all over.
How long did these things last anyway?
Only one way to find out.
Jazz snuck back into the Ark and into the first air vent he found. Being Special Ops, he had perfected getting around the base via air vent. He even knew where they ended and which ones to change to in order to get into different parts of the base, like a giant train network.
Off to the medbay he went. Surely Ratchet would know?
090909
He nearly gave First Aid a spark attack when he dropped from the vent right behind him. Jazz quickly apologised and asked where Ratchet was, shifting around uneasily and glancing from side to side every so often. First Aid pointed him towards his office, ignoring his uneasiness as Ratchet had already clued him in, and assured Jazz what he would be on the lookout for Prowl. Jazz quickly thanked him and walked into Ratchets office.
Only to find Prowl staring back at him.
He screamed like a little girl and leapt back up into the air vents, quickly scrambling away.
This was starting to feel a little bit like a horror movie. He dearly hoped that he would be the character that saw it through to the end. He felt his body freeze when he heard Prowl climb up into the vents too.
How did he even fit with his doorwings?!
Yelping, he crawled as fast as he could away, dropping through the first vent he could and just racing away, not caring that he'd just landed on someones card game and ruined it. The mechs involved shot some insults his way before they grumbled and started to clear the table to start again.
The rec room, the room he had landed in, was almost full of mechs. Obviously a shift had just ended. Plenty of people to separate him and Prowl! Jazz made his way through the crowd and stopped by the door, intending to run out of it the moment Prowl followed him out of the vent.
Only he never did.
Well, he had a chance to refuel now.
Sensing that it may be a long while until he could refuel again, Jazz took multiple cubes and stored them in his subspace, sipping on another. He got a few weird looks and he assumed it was because it wasn't base wide knowledge that Prowl was going through his mating cycle yet.
Yet.
He sighed as he finished his cube, droppping it into the recycle bin when it was finished. He didn't even know how long it lasted for yet. Instead of risking seeing Ratchet again, he left the rec room and clambered into the first vent he found, making his way towards an abandoned part of the Ark.
An idea hit him, and he resisted the urge to smack himself in the face. It was so simple, so obvious! He could have just sent a comm to Ratchet!
When he was certain that he was alone, he made the comm call.
::Can Ah ask somethin'?::
::Fire away::
::How long do these usually last?::
::Aahh... Around two decacycles? It varies on the mech::
::Great, thanks Ratch'::
Jazz cut the comm before he could lecture him over the bastardisation of his name. Two decacycles. That wasn't so hard, was it?
090909
He wasn't even two cycles in when he learned that yes, it was hard. Jazz couldn't stay in the same place for too long as Prowl would pick up that he was hiding out there and would hold a stakeout until he returned, not expecting company. Being stuck in an enclosed space with a, for lack of better term, horny Praxian wasn't the best way to pass time. Jazz usually scampered away again with more dents and scrapes than he entered with and an uncomfortable heat building up inside.
But fraggit, Prowl really knew how to start a charge building in him.
On the third cycle, Prowl finally managed to corner him in his quarters.
Jazz had decided to go and pick up some EMP grenades from his quarters in order to stall Prowl long enough for him to get a good distance away, however he wasn't anticipating Prowl to literally pop out of a vent and pin him to the floor.
The undignified squeak he gave just proved that point.
Social pleasantries were launched out of the window as Prowl crushed their lips together, quickly placing his hands on all of Jazz he could get to, drawing all manner of sounds out of him.
Jazz broke the kiss, panting heavily, and weakly attempted to push him away.
"Prowler no, yah not thinkin' properly!"
"I am thinking perfectly, Jazz." Prowl purred, emphasising the other mech's name. Jazz shuddered and looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with him. He doubted that he would soon after this, memories too fresh to be pushed aside and forgotten.
This was not going the way he wanted it to. With every passing click he was getting closer to just letting the mech viciously frag him into the floor - he wanted Prowl badly and although the circumstances weren't ideal, he could at least say he had him, just for a little while. Even if he was under the influence of a mating cycle.
Jazz: only desirable when you're looking for someone to frag!
He fought back the sting of coolant in his optics as Prowl pushed their lips together again, pulling him closer. This hurt.
Usually Prowl wouldn't give him the time of the day, so absorbed in his reports and continuously cancelling their plans to see each other that he had almost forgotten what Jazz's laugh sounded like. Suddenly, now that he had a burning desire to procreate, Jazz was the centre of his universe and he was relentlessly hunting him down.
It hurt.
It hurt because it took Prowl losing his mind for them to share their first kiss together, for them to exchange caresses to the gently heating metal of the other. Jazz didn't want it to happen this way. It just didn't feel right - like it was cheating.
Jazz was surprised when Prowl suddenly pulled away, concerned expression on his face. "You're upset."
The fact Prowls optics were still a deep azure told Jazz that he was still under the influence of the mating cycle. The concern was not real.
Prowls hand abandoned the thigh it had rested on and reached up to cup Jazz's face, thumb wiping away the coolant that was trickling down his cheek. "Please don't cry. I hate it when you do." Jazz bit back a snarky comment on how often he had been the cause - what was the point? Mechs in mating cycles remembered what happened very, very rarely. So rarely it was unheard of. All they remembered was the chasing and the interfacing, enough to get an idea of what had happened. This? No. Wouldn't be remembered. There was no point in saying anything as it would be for naught.
Of course Jazz was going to be upset about this. This was only happening because something had gone wrong and was making Prowl think differently. It wasn't real and it never would be. Prowl would never see him as anything more than the TIC of the Autobot army and the mech who brought him energon when he forgot to go get it himself.
But Prowl surprised him. He immediately backed away from Jazz, removing all contact from him and stood up.
"I apologise. I will leave immediately, please forgive my behaviour." He said, bowing slightly with a tilt of his doorwings. As abruptly has he pulled away from Jazz, he turned on his heel and strode out of Jazz's quarters.
... What?
Jazz stayed where he was, waiting for Prowl to suddenly burst back in again, but he didn't. And the next cycle was Prowl free. And the next. And the next. And the next.
Jazz didn't see Prowl again for five cycles. That is, until a wrench connected with the back of his helm and he woke up in medbay.
Ratchet was leaning over him with a huge frown on his face, clearly displeased with something.
"The frag did you do to Prowl?!" He snarled, gesturing furiously to the currently offline form of the tactician laying out prone on a medical berth. Jazz looked slightly bewildered, unsure as to how he could have caused it. He hadn't even seen him for five cycles!
"Nothin'! Ah haven't seen him in five cycles - what could Ah have done?!"
"You fragger!" Ratchet shouted, giving him a good whack. "He's not chasing you anymore!"
"That's good, righ'?"
"NO!"
Jazz flinched at the shout, mentally preparing himself for what was to come next. "The extra energy courtesy of the mating cycle isn't getting used, so it's being released as heat. Wanna know what that's doing to him?" He didn't give Jazz a chance to respond before his expression changed to downright murderous and he growled. "It's melting him. He's currently stuffed like a teddy bear with cooling packs."
Jazz felt his tanks fall through his feet.
"...M..Melting him..?" Jazz uncertainly replied, focusing on Prowl. Now that he was getting a better look at him, he did look a lot bigger than usual. Ratchet nodded.
"Yes. Whatever you did, he's backed off like protocol demanded and now he's not doing what he's meant to and running around like a lunatic. He's working. It's really killing him this time, Jazz."
He felt guilty. Incredibly guilty. Prowl was in agony because he couldn't just push aside his pride.
"When's he gonna wake up?" He asked, wringing his hands.
"Whenever I let him." Ratchet replied, indicating the drip feed of sedative. "I suggest that you only want me to wake him up if you're willing. I'm not putting up with an awake, overheating Prowl." Ratchet sternly lectured, making it clear that he didn't want Prowl awake unless it was necessary. Jazz nodded.
"Wake 'im up."
Ratchet gave him a strange look. "Are you sure, Jazz?"
"Ah'm sure." He replied nervously, slipping off of the medical berth and moving to stand beside Prowl. He didn't want to hurt Prowl - no. That was the last thing he'd ever want to do. If him wanting to be selfish and not helping Prowl was hurting him, he'd stop. He'd do anything for him. Ratchet nodded.
"Very well. Stand back, I'll get the cooling packets out of him."
He watched nervously as Ratchet worked, spark beating erratically. Did he really want this? No. Not really. Handling Prowl when he was being stubborn was Jazz's forte. Vorns of experience, an expert among experts. Prowl feeling immeasurable guilt and avoiding others? Not so much. Didn't happen too often.
And he would. Jazz knew it. There was nothing that could stop it.
Still, he'd take that over a dead Prowl any day.
When Ratchet had finished, he carefully removed the needle in his arm and put the medbay under lockdown before walking to his office. "Have fun, and try not to break anything."
Jazz felt his face plates heat up - he'd have hoped that Ratchet would let him go somewhere a little more private. Perhaps not.
Still, Prowl was starting to wake up and Jazz had no idea as to where he should even begin.
His hand twitched and his optics were beginning to online, so Jazz took his chance. Taking the moving hand in his own, he leaned down and captured Prowls lips with his own.
He missed Prowl's optics onlining to their usual icy blue.
He felt a hand push on his chest and he didn't realise that he was being pushed away until the pressure increased, Prowl coming out of his sleepy daze. Slightly shocked his visor brightened and he looked up to see the icy blues. His tank tightened.
"Jazz, I... I'm sorry I-"
Jazz knew when to take a hint. "Nah mech, s'fine. Ya feelin' dandy now?" He asked, taking a couple of steps back and removing himself from Prowls personal space. He was fine. Yup. Totally fine. Play it cool Jazz, play it cool. Just a friend helping a friend. Prowl hid his disappointment at Jazz leaping away.
"I feel incredibly wet." Prowl replied, shifting uncomfortably, the movement of his plating forcing water out so it trickled down the outside of his body. "Did I overheat badly enough for Ratchet to put in cooling packets?"
"Yup, ya looked so funny. Nice 'n' chubby."
Prowl glared at Jazz, huffing. He then shifted his gaze to look Jazz up and down before he spoke again. "Why was I overheating? The last thing I remember was the party in the rec room."
Hmm, he really didn't remember. Right. Quick, Jazz, think. Fabricate something. Prank gone wrong? Bad high-grade? Something!
"Well..."
Prowls doorwings shot up suddenly and his optics brightened. He was remembering. Seeing Prime, then how everything fizzled out and blurred when Jazz came in, the only clarity being Jazz himself. Then the chasing - oh primus had he really done that?! - and cornering him in random areas before Jazz's own quarters - frag he felt like an utter aft. He could feel his battle computer slowly onlining again - it always was the last one - and his tanks tightened considerably. He didn't want to suddenly jump Jazz again - being this close and waking up to him kissing him was an open invitation for him to become the target again - and Prowl didn't want to target him. He didn't want to target anyone! He needed Jazz to get the frag away from him.
"I don't want you near me." Prowl knew he could have worded that better and at least put in a shred of emotion so that his usual monotone wasn't quite so piercing, but alas it was not to be. Prowl was a mech with a shocking lack of tact and social elegance. It'd have to do. He looked up at Jazz just in time to see his expression change from an incredibly hurt one that was reflected in his field before he tugged it in so it was a paper-thin layer over his armour and schooled his expression to as neutral as he could get it.
Jazz didn't reply as he simply hopped up onto a berth, skillfully opened a vent and pulled himself inside, quickly crawling away.
Prowl had messed up and he knew it. Silent treatment from Jazz meant that he was very upset or angry with you which was something you never wanted to have. Despite appearances, Jazz was as terrifying as being on the business end of a fusion cannon. He wasn't someone you wanted to be in the bad books of.
He quickly pulled himself up into the vent with some difficulty - stupid doorwings, getting in the way - and quickly fumbled for what to do. His battle computer was still booting up, thank primus, and it looked like it was struggling to process some strands of protocol. Prowl quickly registered them as being the ones for the mating cycle and hoped that it realised now was really not the time. "Jazz, wait!"
He could still hear Jazz moving away, if not faster now, and he felt the most uncontrollable desire to curse. Loudly.
There was the distinct sound of metal grating on metal and someone sounding suspiciously like Prowl saying 'frag'. Jazz paused before crawling backwards to look down the vent. Prowl? Swearing? Did hell freeze over?
"Did ya just swear?" Jazz asked incredulously, unsure to if he heard correctly.
"Don't tell the twins."
Jazz started laughing, much to Prowls embarrassment, and his wings clanked against the venting as they tried to shoot up into their 'v-shape'.
"Oh, please. Meh? Never. Lips are sealed, Prowl." Jazz paused as he quickly looked Prowl up and down. "Wha' happened ta not wantin' ta be near meh?" He asked, no small amount of hurt evident in his voice. Prowl winced.
"I admit I could have worded that much better."
"Figures."
"Do you think we could continue this conversation elsewhere?"
"Ah'm comfy where Ah am."
Prowl ex-vented hard. "I am truly sorry if I offended you, Jazz. It was not my intention to do so."
"Ah'm not seein' how that couldn't be offensive."
"I don't want to target you." He replied a little hurriedly, feeling his battle computer starting to come fully online and coherent thought disappear. Frag he was going back under again.
"Ya sayin' Ah'm not a good candidate? That Ah-"
"Jazz!" Prowl said forcefully, cutting Jazz off and making his jaw snap back up. He very rarely used this tone with him. "I do not want to target you as you are my closest friend and I have no intentions of ruining that! You are the perfect candidate for me, however whether or not my feelings are reciprocated I do not know- Primus Jazz, I don't want to lose you!"
Jazz was at a loss of what to say. He was torn between hoping that Prowl was implying he'd like to be more than just friends, and, denying himself anything he wanted. Yes, he'd gladly admit that he was smitten with the mech but given his line of work the next minute may well be his very last and he couldn't allow himself any pleasures or indulgences. The saboteur didn't miss the downcast look that washed across the tacticians face when Jazz remained frozen, staring at him dumbfoundedly.
"Just forget I said that." Prowl muttered, dropping back down into the medbay.
Jazz was quick to snap out of it and scramble after him, almost falling through the opening head first.
"Ya won't, Ah promise." Jazz quickly spluttered, unsure as to why he suddenly found himself short of breath, and held out his little finger. Prowl allowed himself a small smile as he returned the gesture, the two digits curling around each other.
"So you won't run anymore?"
"No. No, Ah won't."
"My battle computer is still processing the protocol, there's a 50-50 chance that it will reactivate."
"Well, we'd better sit tight then hadn't we?"
090909
Prowl couldn't focus on his datapad.
At the suspicious lack of noise, Ratchet had poked his head in to see the pair having a game of rock paper scissors, a game they'd learned from their human friends, and immediately took pity upon them. They were given a datapad each with a story written by a human on.
Not long after Ratchet had left, Prowl had started to notice the sound of Jazz's intakes, the way his chest gently rose and fell with each one, the way he leant against Prowls side and left it feeling warm-
No! No, he mustn't think like this! He couldn't give into it again, he didn't want to hurt Jazz!
It was when he had the overwhelming desire to run a hand down Jazz's thigh that Prowl knew it was too late to turn back now, and he'd just have to hope that he could restrain himself.
"Jazz, I'm sorry-"
Jazz looked up in surprise at his strangled voice before he coyly smiled. "Ya're under again, ain't ya?"
"It appears to be the case."
"We've got plenty'a time, Prowler."
"Then you must forgive me for drawing it out for as long as possible, Jazz."
Jazz giggled, gently dropping his datapad onto the table. It wasn't as if he was paying any attention to it anyway.
090909
A few hours after he had last checked up on the pair, Ratchet poked his head into the room again.
They were both tangled together on the single berth, fast asleep. Prowls doorwings twitched every so often, and he was holding Jazz very close to him like a child would a toy.
Ratchet had almost believed that the protocol didn't activate again until he noticed the telling stains on their thighs, and he simply sighed, hoping that the Special Operations coding Jazz held stopped him from sparking.
A quick once over from the door – like pit was he going in there, Prowl would tear him to pieces – he saw that there weren't any telling injuries that were so common during the mating cycles, and quietly closed the door before activating the lock.
He turned around to look at the rest of the medical bay outside of the private room.
Full of mechs Prowl had smacked into the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the energon dispensers… there wasn't anything that was safe. Ratchet had found more than one datapad embedded in the wall next to his latest victim more times than he'd care to count.
Safe to say nobody would be bothering Prowl any time soon.
Primus help whoever disturbed that room.
090909
I started writing this last year….
Christ….
~Llama