Starcrossed

by Gatekat

G1 AU, Jazz/Prowl, Jazz/Vortex Jazz is the second creation of a Noble House that's fallen on hard times. He's promised as the subordinate mate to a wealthy commoner in exchange for a great deal of credits. It's only when he meets his future mate that things get bad.

18. Being a Carrier

Okay, so everybody should know the drill by now. Chapters with explicit content aren't really posted here. Just up to when the smut gets going.
If you want to read the story, it's over on Ao3. Replace the - with .
Archiveofourown-org/works/637909/chapters/1155977

Starcrossed 18: Being a Carrier
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Seven orns.

Jazz groaned in a combination of relief and frustration at finally being out again. Prowl had done all he could to keep him entertained, but games and reading did not cut it after so long. He wasn't made to sit in an office like Prowl was, he wanted to be out and doing something. At least now with his coding un-fragged, a task that had been harder than either of them expected, he wasn't going to risk having the twins influenced by any other mecha who expressed interest just by being outside. A visible carrier tended to attract attention.

He was sticking to safe parts of the city, though, wandering through a market district that the small population of nobles in the city favored. Many of them sent their servants here for errands, and those were the mecha Jazz came for.

"Strata! Haven't seen you in a while!" A familiar merchant waved to him. "You're finally showing, too."

"I bet Sharp didn't let you out of the berth," a deep red minibot with a dancer's frame grinned as soon as he spotted the carrier. "You're in the fun stage."

Jazz waved back as he walked up, grinning. "I've never been so sore in my life," he confessed, glancing over the merchant's counter. "Please tell me you still have some of those copper-filled things left."

"Always," Confection smiled warmly. "How many would you like?"

"About a hundred," Jazz said, rolling his optics, but handed him a credit stick with enough on it for three. "Please tell me something interesting is happening somewhere, I am starved for gossip."

"Always," Whisper Wind laughed playfully. "Sweetness, he works in the kitchen at the estate I do, just found out he's expecting twins. I thought it might be normal, he's Praxian and all, but they were just as shocked as everyone else."

"Twins everywhere," Jazz said as he held his hand out for the silver spherical treats from Confection. "I'd never heard of any twin carriers before and that's two in as many metacycles," he said before putting one in his mouth and humming happily at the taste. "Do Praxians have a lot of twins or something?"

"I thought they did because they trine like Seekers do," Whisper Wind shrugged. "Turns out they don't. That noble set is probably lucky their carrier hasn't been found." He shuddered. "I knew someone who went to work for Lord Vortex. He said it's better to live in the gutters."

Jazz sighed. "But just think what that servant could be doing to him," he said quietly, then shook his head sharply. "But that's too depressing for me. Sweetness should go to Iacon," he told Whisper Wind, perking back up. "They'll pay for all the carrying costs just to study it."

"Praxus will too, and they're already negotiating to go," Whisper Wind nodded. "I'll miss them, but it's too big an opportunity for them to pass up."

Jazz hummed in agreement, waved in thanks to Confection, and started walking along with Whisper Wind. "Free supplements would be worth it alone," he said. "I'm so glad Sharp found good work, I wouldn't have been able to afford it just dancing."

"I'm sure you'd manage it somehow," Whisper Wind said confidently as they paused at a high grade merchant for Whisper Wind to place an order for the House. "It's a lot safer when you can get everything your systems are asking for."

Jazz nodded, then grinned. "Would you believe," he said when Whisper Wind stepped away. "Sharp made me set my alerts at 90 percent?"

"First time sire, first time carrier? Oh yeah, I believe it." He snickered. "You're lucky he lets you out of his sight at all."

Jazz chuckled. "I can be persuasive," he said. "Though he might use different adjectives. Speaking of, hang on."

"Checking in?" Whisper Wind asked with a knowing grin.

Jazz just smiled and nodded as he commed Prowl. ::I'm still alive and I'm not being stalked by anyone,:: he sent.

::Good. Thank you.:: Prowl managed a respectful reply. ::I am actually getting work done.::

::I can come change that if you'd like,:: Jazz purred.

::Save your energy for when I get home with you,:: Prowl rumbled deeply. ::I took my supplements this morning. I'll be well-primed by the time I'm done here.::

::Good, because I want that spike between my legs,:: Jazz said before disconnecting the link, then saw the look that Whisper Wind was giving him and realized the kind of expression he had on his face. "Well?" he laughed. "Like you said, this is the fun part."

"I got the feeling that you've always enjoyed the fun part, carrying or not," Whisper Wind grinned back. "You need to pick up anything, or just here to escape the berth for a bit?"

"Who wouldn't enjoy the fun part?" Jazz asked, glancing idly at the shops they were passing by, looking for anything of interest in the windows. "And mostly I just needed to get out and move and actually see some mecha."

Whisper Wind nodded understandingly and they walked in companionable silence for a little ways.

"Do you think," Jazz said suddenly, "That that twin carrier, the botnapped one, do you think that's what actually happened?"

"From all I know of noble Houses and that oligarch in particular, no," Whisper Wind shook his helm. "If it was any mech other than a seneschal, I'd have more doubts, but seneschals are hardwired for loyalty. Literally hardwired for it. Unless that seneschal was severely glitched to the level any noble would have put him down he'd have been physically incapable of taking his noble anywhere the noble didn't want to go."

Jazz gave a soft, thoughtful hum. "I like that thought much better," he finally said. "I hate imagining the carrier being alone and afraid somewhere." He held his hand up to his abdomen. "I don't think I could stand it."

"You'd be surprised the strength you can find in creator coding," Whisper Wind smiled gently and patted his arm. "Whatever part of the story we aren't hearing, I know there's a lot of it. A seneschal couldn't do that. He'd short himself out before he knowingly distressed his noble. But Vortex," he shuddered. "There's not much that mech won't do, and enjoy. I heard from first hand accounts. Stuff that even the Senate won't accept."

"And he's too rich to do anything about it," Jazz sighed. "I hope you're right."

"I hope they're happy, wherever they are, and the sparklings are raised by loving creators," Whisper Wind agreed before they silently agreed to switch to safer topics.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Prowl stalked through a weapons warehouse that even a metacycle ago he'd have had no use for. Right now, he was itching for the kind of controlled violence that a powerful riffle and targets that didn't fight back had to offer. He'd stopped questioning the influence of the military protocols he'd downloaded and their odd effects when mixed with his already specialized and somewhat damaged programming. It wasn't worth the processor ache as long as it didn't cause a problem.

Right now, it was just giving him a new option for tension relief.

"Hey!" a loud voice rumbled over when he got close to the crates that were waiting to be inventoried before shipping, and Prowl looked up to see one of the laborers stalking towards him. "Th'frag d'you think you're doin' in here? Get back upstairs before you blow somethin' up!"

"I have a right to test fire whatever I want," Prowl growled back at the worker, instinctively IDing him. No one important, but a mech able to challenge an unknown presence, which Prowl clearly was to him.

"That's Sharp, the new lieutenant. He's cleared," the warehouse boss called out from a catwalk.

Prowl glanced up at him and nodded.

The mech eyed him up and down, decided that Prowl wasn't big enough to be a threat anyway, grunted, and stalked back off.

"The focus blasters are pretty good for that kind of mood," Synchron commented from the catwalk . He gestured towards a pile of crates that weren't going in the next shipment. "They use a crystal to focus the energy, so the damage is smaller in area but more severe where it actually hits."

"Thanks," Prowl nodded and moved towards the crates. He hefted one, then put it back. Too heavy for his tastes. He liked to move. The next caliber down felt good in his hands and he grabbed a couple extra power cells for it before heading to the small range in back. It wasn't much, but it was good enough for customers to use to check out the quality of prospective purchases. Just because they were black market didn't mean that the buyers weren't expecting quality for their credits.

Right now Prowl just wanted to find out if this new urge on how to release tension was worth investing energy into. He stepped up to the static line, nothing more than a target sheet pinned to the back wall, registered the weapon he was using so the system knew how much power was headed downrange and brought the light riffle to his shoulder. Targeting was new to him but it used all the same vectoring protocols he was used to for moving about.

The first shot was off, near the edge of the target. The second halved the distance to the center. The third halved it again.

The forth was a perfect hole in the center.

The next three shots went through that hole and Prowl nodded to himself, comfortable that he knew how to use this weapon, and anything else like it.

The shot that followed right after his came from behind and from a larger weapon, taking out the entire center of the target. Prowl hit the deck and spun around to level his weapon to average spark height before he'd even processed the hit.

Drift's pleased rumble was more of a chuckle, unconcerned with having a weapon aimed at him. "Is there anything you don't pick up quickly?"

Prowl relaxed himself by force, getting to his pedes with a scowl. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Didn't know I did," Drift said, still grinning. "Didn't think you were that easy to startle."

"I was focusing too much," Prowl muttered, once more wishing for a form with wings. He missed having the extra input about his environment. "Why are you here?"

"Bored," Drift shrugged, and lifted his heavy blaster back up to his shoulder, taking another shot. "Don't have your mate around to entertain me anymore in my downtime."

Prowl grunted. "You have no idea how lucky you are. Sire coding's a pain between the hyper possessiveness and wanting to spike him every single moment. It's fun and all, but no variety."

Drift frowned and set the weapon down, leaning on it in a way that Prowl was sure it wasn't meant for. "Variety like what?"

Prowl shrugged. "Like oral, foreplay, games. Primus help me if I'm in the mood for a spike," he rolled his optics. "Spark play isn't even that welcome." He huffed. "I like variety. Sire coding doesn't. Killed my endurance too."

Drift chuckled. "Yeah, but endless rounds of fragging and not letting anyone else touch him? Sounds like fun to me. I'd say sign me up if it didn't mean ending up with a sparkling in the end."

"Unplanned or not, I'm looking forward to it," Prowl smiled a bit. "Someone to raise and train as I see fit. It'll know what I teach them, think the way I want it to. It'll be less than a century before it's useful."

Drift shifted his weight a little. "I guess that's one way to look at it," he said. "So do you, you know, think you'll keep Strata around once you have it?"

Prowl shook his helm with a chuckle. "I'll keep him as long as I'm enjoying him. I don't see that ending anytime soon. He's good in the berth and willing to do anything for me. Nothing not to like there."

Drift's engines rumbled in a deep laugh. "True enough, you've got it pretty good. Pretty surprised you let him out of your office. We were taking bets on how long he'd be in there."

A deep groan answered that. "Blame my work ethic. You have no idea how distracting that mech can be when he's bored, and he gets bored easy in a small space. It's his only real detracting trait. He's active. Hoping that mellows with age, and a sparkling or two to keep track of and control."

"I'm sure you can train it out of him," Drift assured him. "Especially as he gets older. Young mecha can be high strung."

"I know," Prowl agreed. "I should get back to work." He hefted the medium riffle and walked out, sure Drift would be blasting targets for a couple joors. The mech liked violence entirely too much. At least he was useful.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It was a relief to finally be home for the orn and Prowl was eager to push Jazz down onto the berth. As much as he liked to complain about the monotony of it and missed their normal interfacing habits, there was something truly marvelous about knowing they were strengthening and creating their twins together.

But when he opened the door and stepped in, all thoughts of interfacing vanished. The lights were off, the window was darkened. ::Strata!:: he called, starting to crouch into a defensive position.

"It's all right," came the purr and Prowl frowned, focusing in on it. He commanded the lights on, but they would only rise to a quarter intensity. It was enough to see, though, and he saw Jazz near the top of his dancing pole, hanging on with one hand, perched against it.

"I see I'm not the only one who got bored," Prowl purred deeply, his engine rumbling in anticipation. Oh yes, he had missed this playfulness.

"I'm tired of looking at the ceiling," Jazz said, staying where he was, pointing at their berth with the hand he wasn't using to keep himself up. "On your back, my pet."

Prowl shivered at the tone and words. It had been entirely too long. "Yes, my Lord," he rumbled and moved swiftly to comply. His frame stretched out, relaxed and on display for his master.

Jazz didn't move anything but his head as he watched Prowl settle, a pleased smirk on his lips, before dropping down and landing in an easy crouch. The movement lacked his normal flawless grace, hampered by the carrying frame, but the rise to his pedes was smooth as he walked over, holding something in his hand. He walked around near Prowl's head and held it out for him to clearly see: a set of handcuffs.

"It would please me to use these," he said softly, and waited. He wouldn't put them on unless Prowl moved his hands out for them. If he didn't, Jazz would simply subspace them and continue without, but the choice to be bound was Prowl's. He could feel the tension, there were a lot of bad memories and danger in the concept, but there was also so much appeal from vorns before. He'd learned that almost by accident just how much Prowl enjoyed light bondage. But that had been before Vortex, too. Before everything changed.

With a gradual movement that held more certainty by the time they settled, Prowl lifted his arms over his helm and held his wrists together.

Jazz wordlessly fixed the cuffs around his lover's offered wrists, clicking them into place and pressing down on Prowl's arm for a moment, indicating his hands were to stay over his head, but there would be no physical tie keeping him there. That done, he slipped up onto the bed and shifted to lay out on top of him, pressing a deep kiss against his mouth. "So perfectly obedient for me," he murmured, and put his fingers against Prowl's chest, pushing himself up. "My beautiful pet."

"To please my Lord is my function," Prowl moaned softly, his optics locked on Jazz's frame, but far more focused on the spark and processors it contained than the details.

Jazz smiled and hummed, settling himself back into a straddle over Prowl's hips, keeping himself lifted just enough that there was no contact to his lover's spike panel. "It is," he purred. "But I hear you have everyone fooled into thinking I am your berth warmer, when we both know it's the other way around, don't we?"

"We do, my Lord," Prowl shivered, moaning softly. "They believe what they want. I just don't correct them. I am yours."

"You are," Jazz whispered, leaning forward, holding himself up on his hands, brushing their lips together but not deeply enough for a real kiss. His hips lowered, scraped lightly over Prowl's. "You will give me your spike, and I will ride you until I have everything you have to offer for our creation, until you're so used and spent you can hardly move."

Prowl could only moan. His cover snapped open and his spike jutted out, pressurizing as fast as it could, sliding up along Jazz's bared valve as it extended. Around them Prowl's field snapped and roared with his want, desire born of both the mech above him and the thought of contributing to his creations. "Please, my Lord. Use me. I exist to serve."

Jazz rubbed along the length of his mate's spike, platelets tickling and teasing the textured surface. "I'll use you until you're sore," he promised, voice deepening with desire he couldn't hide. "Beg for it," he purred. "Beg for my valve, beg to spill your release into me."

A whine escaped Prow as his hips rolled up, rubbing his spike along Jazz's valve array. "Please, my Lord. Use me, permit me to contribute to your heir, allow me to pleasure you and fill you as you desire. Use me until I have nothing left to give."

Jazz couldn't hide the shiver that went through him as he basked in the rich tenor of his mate's voice, angling his hips up and lifting himself far enough to align with the extended spike. He sank down in a single movement, groaning in unison with his lover as he brought their arrays together, sitting upright and then leaning back, holding himself up on his arms. "My pet," he moaned, helm tossing back in his bliss as he started to move. "Mine, all mine."

"All yours," Prowl swore, meaning it with all his spark. His hips pushed up, relishing the sensation of being inside his mate but not the driving force. "I desire no other. All I am is for you."

Jazz's frame shook with pleasure with each downward slide as he took Prowl in. "So good," he gasped, rocking his hips. One hand lifted up to his throat, gripping for a moment, before it ran down his front and stopped over his spike cover, flexing his fingers against it before it slid away and his spike pressurized into his palm. He squeezed, turned his wrist, and stroked in time with the rhythm he moved with against his lover, setting a hard, fast pace that would satisfy both their creator coding. "You please me so well," he moaned, valve shivering blissfully around Prowl's spike.

"Good," Prowl moaned, his entire awareness focused on timing the roll of his hips to suit the pace and angles that his mate had selected. "Want to please you. Want to be desirable. Want you to keep me, want me, use me," he panted with the rising pleasure. He had almost no endurance now, protocols dictated that this act had a purpose beyond pleasure and intimacy. His overload strengthen his creations, so his frame drove him to that overload as quickly as it could. "You're so good to me, forgiving me my weakness."

"Not weakness," Jazz managed as he rode back against him. "Strength, for me, our creation, filling my frame, giving me everything-" He broke off with a sharp gasp as his fingers tightened around his own spike. "Give me your overload and I'll let you move your arms," he promised, shivering. "I'll let you touch me."

Prowl keened and bucked up, what little self-control he had stripped from him at the words, the praise, permission and promise they held. The first burst of transfluid rushed against the pleasure nodes at the top of Jazz's valve, then through the even more sensitive tube to feed into the reservoir for building the protoforms.

"Yes!" Jazz cried, shaking with the blissful pleasure of it, the rightness of feeling Prowl filling him, though his rhythm never faltered as his lover seized beneath him. When he felt the charge of the overload dissipate he let go of his spike, moved his hand back down, and tipped his head forward, meeting Prowl's pleasure-bright optics. "Touch me, overload me," he commanded, voice thick with static and field heavy with want.

Bound hands came forward without hesitation, Prowl's hips still thrusting into his mate as his charge built for a second discharge. He caressed Jazz's face, down his chest to pay special attention to the construction chamber that had expanded Jazz's abdominal structure as far out as his chest. He could feel the heat, the vibration of the machinery working hard to build two protoforms.

"So beautiful," Prowl whispered, awed that he was indeed the creator of mecha he would raise.

"So are you," Jazz purred, leaning forward into the touches, armor loose and panting. "My pet, you are so perfect, so good, you earn everything I give you, every touch, you are the one I choose as lover, as sire, as mate, my love, always." His hips sped up and his fingers gripped the berth while he moved in effort to coax more transfluid from Prowl.

Prowl shook and thrust, his fingers moving down to capture Jazz's thickly ruffled spike in both hands, stroking, curling his fingers inward to rub between the ruffles. "Overload for me, my beautiful Lord," he gasped as he thrust, his charge already high again. "Allow me to witness your bliss."

Jazz's hips bucked up and broke the rhythm of his movements, torn between the rapture from Prowl's spike and the ecstasy from his fingers, and with a deep, strangled moan he sank down fully and overload shot through his frame, bright arcs of static crackling away from his plating and jumping to Prowl where they touched, shooting transfluid onto his chest and cycling his valve in rippling bliss as he screamed his joy.

All Prowl could do was join him, keening sharply as he lost himself completely to the bliss of pleasuring his mate so fully. The shift in tone of Jazz's cries when transfluid hit the sensor nodes deep inside him and was sucked into his frame to be used struck an even deeper cord in Prowl and he sobbed, his vents and frame shuddering at the intensity of the perfection.

Jazz fell forward when his arms gave out, pressing their chests flush together directly over their sparks. He shook and bucked his hips back unevenly, driving himself relentlessly onto Prowl's spike. His over-sensitized valve, still hot from overload, quivered from the friction, but he didn't slow the pace of their coupling. "More," he begged, sobbed, commanded. "Give me more."

"Anything, everything," Prowl moaned, swore, as he worked his hands out from between them and over Jazz's helm so he could hold his lover while they pushed their frames, especially Prowl's frame, to the very limit. Eventually Prowl stilled after he overloaded, frame lax and helm lolling to the aside. Only the cuffs securing his wrists together maintained the embrace he had around his lover.

Jazz groaned and managed to rouse himself after a klik enough to reach back and fumble for the lock mechanism that would trigger the cuffs open, found it, then let his arm fall again as he pulled them both sideways so they could curl together. "My perfect love," he murmured, bringing his hands up to caress Prowl's helm.

"So perfect. So very perfect," Prowl mumbled, more reflex than actual thought as his arms fell to his sides.

Jazz smiled and nuzzled his mate, settling in with him for recharge, feeling the warm, relaxed humming from the twin sparks in response to his own happiness. As his attention slowly drifted, he felt a suddenly impatient twinge and onlined his optics again.

~Goina pay attention to me now?~ a voice asked.

"Sharp!" Jazz whispered, shaking his mate.

~He makes you tired,~ a second voice added. ~You should pay attention to us instead.~

"Mhuu?" Prowl forced his optics on line and to focus despite the top priority demand of his systems to recharge deeply.

"He's talking," Jazz said, grinning despite the overwhelming fatigue in his frame.

~We!~ the pair of voices corrected immediately.

~I know,~ Jazz said. ~Sharp knows, your sire. No one else can know.~

~Going to be obvious soon,~ one of the twins pointed out with a rumble.

It took that long for Prowl's sluggish processors to work out the meaning of Jazz's words, then his optics brightened and he pawed at Jazz's dataport even as his own opened.

Jazz chuckled as he helped his drowsy mate set up the hardline. ~We're working on that,~ he assured the twins as he dropped his firewalls for Prowl and accepted the rapid connection ping that followed.

~What are they saying? Can they hear me?~ Prowl asked as he forced his processors online.

~We can hear you,~ the second voice chirped.

~Who are you?~ the first asked with a possessive surge.

~Your sire,~ Jazz said.

~'Sharp?'~

~Yes, that is what mecha call me here.~ Prowl answered, a bit awkward with the processor-processor-spark-spark conversation setup. ~My real designation is Prowl.~

~Prowl,~ the second repeated. ~Why are you lying?~

~To protect you,~ Jazz said.

~There is a mech trying to capture us, and you,~ Prowl said more coherently. ~If he does, he will kill both of us, and likely one of you. We do not dare use our real designations out loud no matter how distracted we are.~

~No one is hurting Sideswipe!~ the first voice growled. ~I won't let him.~

~Neither are we,~ Prowl replied. ~What is your designation?~ he tried to direct the thought-words towards the sparkling that had spoken. It was more difficult than he imagined it would be.

~He is Sunstreaker,~ Sideswipe answered for his twin. ~Why would someone try to hurt him?~

~To hurt Prowl and me,~ Jazz said. ~Please do not worry about him, we will protect you. We are doing everything we can to keep you safe.~

Sunstreaker gave a pleased rumble at that. ~I want to move.~

~That will take time,~ Prowl said reasonably. ~You must be in your frame and your frame out of Jazz first.~

~Jazz is Carrier,~ Sideswipe surmised. ~Jazz likes moving, moving with you makes him happy, thank you.~

Jazz smiled at his mate. ~Prowl makes me very happy.~

~Especially when I wear him out enough to recharge,~ Prowl purred. ~And yes, Jazz likes to move.~

~I can't wait to move,~ Sunstreaker said. ~Just like you.~

~That will take a bit longer,~ Jazz murmured, fond amusement in his words.

~Carrier wants to recharge,~ Sideswipe told his twin. ~I am glad you can hear us now,~ he said to his creators.

~So are we,~ Jazz said. ~And yes, I would like to recharge. So would Prowl,~ he said, looking at his mate's dimming optics.

~Yes, very glad,~ Prowl said, though it wasn't as well directed. Jazz had asked for everything he had to give, and he'd given. Even this short conversation was eating into his reserves. ~Talk more later,~ he promised, no longer able to keep his processors from shutting down along with his frame.

Jazz nuzzled his recharging mate fondly and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, enjoying the warmth of the frame and feel of Prowl's field mingled with his own.

~Recharge well,~ Sideswipe said, and Sunstreaker rumbled in agreement.

Jazz pulsed as much love into his spark as he could, before his systems followed Prowl's into deep, needed recharge.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz looked up from where he was sitting on the berth working with a blaster, practicing taking it apart and putting it back together, examining the pieces carefully as he did. He smiled warmly at his mate. "Welcome home," he said, staying where he was. "What kind of mood are you in today?"

"The mood to talk," Prowl chuckled and settled on the berth far enough away not to disturb his mate. "You can finish that first, though."

Jazz hummed as he rapidly put the pieces together with a set of flawless, practiced motions, twisted the barrel back into place with a click, and looked up at his mate, handing him the weapon. "I like this model," he said.

"Good," Prowl's pleasure was audible. "It's good you can defend yourself better now." He moved over and reached to cup Jazz's cheek to draw him in for a chaste kiss full of warmth. "Your target scores have improved as well."

Jazz hummed back into the kiss and pulled Prowl in close as he lay down, bringing his mate down with him as he reclined back. "I like knowing I'll be able to protect our creation," he said, pressing his fingers over Prowl's dataport. It slid open immediately and the connection was welcomed the moment the cable connected.

~Love you, all three of you,~ Prowl said first. ~How are our twins doing?~

~Resting,~ Jazz said, nuzzling against Prowl's helm. ~There was chatter about us today. Prowl and Jazz us.~ He kept his voice and field as soothing as possible so as not to alarm his mate with those words.

~What kind of chatter?~ Prowl still tensed, but he kept it mild, confident that if his mate wasn't concerned he didn't need to be.

~Some more thugs at Whisper Wind's House poking around, asking about how long Sweetness had lived there, demanding his employment records,~ Jazz said. ~Nothing to worry about, we just happen to live in the same city that another known twin carrier did.~

~Nothing that will harm him, his trine or their twins either, if I recall correctly. He worked there longer than you've been functioning, and bonded to a trine before that. It's a strong alibi.~ Prowl relaxed the rest of the way.

Jazz nodded and stroked his thumb over Prowl's jaw. ~The chatter about us is the same, too. Mecha who know anything about seneschals are certain you couldn't have taken me against my will.~

~That's nice that they're saying it, even if that's only a tiny fraction of the population," Prowl smiled at him and stroked his back. ~It is as good a lead-in as anything however. We need to make the final arrangements for how we will explain the twins after they emerge.~

~Do you think Engineer will still help us?~ Jazz asked.

~Yes. I am valuable to her.~ Prowl was sure of that. ~However, there are many mecha here that know you are the carrier and I am not. Some of them are far less trustworthy. I know we just settled down, but it would be safest for the twins if we moved. When we arrive in the next city, we can claim we carried one each. Unusual, but far less so.~

Jazz mused that over for a few moments. ~What about your job?~ he asked, more concerned with Prowl having work that filled his processors' needs than the idea of moving. ~You enjoy your work.~

~Yes. There are many jobs I will enjoy. I will get another,~ Prowl assured him. ~It is safer for the twins if we move on. Perhaps to Praxus?~

Jazz immediately started purring. ~And get to play with your doorwings again?~ he asked. ~Absolutely.~

Prowl couldn't help but laugh. ~Yes, you'll get to play with my doorwings again, and I'll get to play with yours. It will be nice to look like myself again, even if none of the details can match.~

~Let the twins separate here, and then move, or move, separate, and shift?~ Jazz asked. ~No one can see me carrying in Praxian form.~

~Tell Engineer I'm taking you on vacation to Iacon for the separation. Move to Iacon, arrange to seem to deactivate, shift, separation, shift and move to Praxus.~ Prowl edited. ~We'll be close to the best medical care if anything goes wrong, and Iacon is a beautiful city to visit.~

~She will be disappointed,~ Jazz commented. ~How are we for funds for that?~

~Very good,~ Prowl said firmly. ~My pay has been very good and we have saved up well. At least one of us will need to find work soon once we are in Praxus, but we should not be in the desperate shape we have been for prior moves.~

Jazz hummed. ~Well that would be nice,~ he said with a smile. ~I'm certainly not going to complain about not starting out in cheap hotels and dirty alleys. Though you have to admit there's a certain nostalgic charm to it...~

Prowl snorted. ~No thank you. I'll skip that nostalgia trip if you don't mind.~

Jazz grinned at him. ~We can be nostalgic in other ways anyway,~ he said, hand wandering down Prowl's side to touch his flank. ~Especially once that sire coding has calmed down.~

~Yes,~ Prowl purred, a soft moan escaping his vocalizer. ~I am so looking forward to that. I miss the variety. I miss my endurance and our games.~

~Mmm, lover, I am so going to have my way with you as soon as I can,~ Jazz hummed, hooking his leg around Prowl's as Prowl's spike cover slid open reflexively. ~Just remember we're going to have a set of twins running around to deal with.~

~So long as I get your spike,~ Prowl moaned as his pressurized between them, ready to contribute to the frames and processors of his creations.

~Often and eagerly,~ Jazz promised as he rolled onto his back, bringing Prowl with him and pulling him into a deep kiss as he spread his legs apart, ready for everything Prowl had to give him.