Diametrically Opposed
Title: Diametrically Opposed
Author: AotA
Rating: T
Warnings: angst
Characters: Jazz, Prowl
Setting: tf-bayverse
Summary: After the war, they had planned on finally fulfilling their bond that the outset of the war had prevented. Only then do they find out that it is not to be.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.
Notes:
Jazz keened in despair as he crushed the data pad in his claws, twisting to curl up into his less expressive alt form. Why did this have to happen? They had known each other for vorns. They had worked, lived, and loved, together, for vorns.
They had put off bonding for vorns when the war had intruded, opting to put off their personal happiness so that they would not be vulnerable or specifically targeted to be taken out. So it was that countless vorns later, they learned of this… this travesty that made a mockery of everything that they were to each other.
After a failed bonding attempt, they consulted with a medic in an attempt to find out why it had gone so frighteningly, hideously wrong.
Jazz lay paralyzed on the berth, unable to so much as twitch. The only thing he could do was stare straight ahead at his mate who was shaking uncontrollably, elegantly shaped fingers shielding his spark where it was exposed by his gaping chest plates.
The other hand reached toward him, trembling. He saw this mate’s lips forming words but they didn’t register. His vision wavered as he was shaken, but he didn’t feel tactile feedback of any sort. Fear showed on his mate’s face and Jazz thought he might understand why when he saw copious amounts of energon clinging to his mate’s hand when it withdrew.
Jazz sublimated his grief into silent rage. He quickly restrained all outer signs of his inner turmoil save for the involuntary furious vibrations of his frame. His mate’s hand came down to rest lightly across his side and skated lightly over armored paneling in a caress.
Jazz could feel the grief that echoed his own in that touch. He leaned into that touch, knowing now that he would never know his mate like others could so easily. The ability-the right-to sparkbond with his beloved was forever denied them. Jazz didn’t notice when his mate silently dismissed the medic and only came back when his mate called his name, speaking for the first time since the pronouncement.
“Jazz,” he said, lowly, an audible shake in his voice, “Love.” On the third word his voice broke with static, “Please.”
The blatant vulnerability, so uncharacteristic of his mate had him twisting out of alt mode and wrapping himself as best as he was able around the larger mech. Jazz pressed their foreheads together, loving and fierce in the same moment. “Ah love you,” he whispered harshly, raw, “Ah don’t need a bond to know that. Ya don’t need a bond to know that. We don’t.”
“And I love you,” was the quiet, wounded response, “How can I not?” If their kind had the ability to cry, Jazz knew that he would be shedding tears of pain, of grief, and of shattered dreams. After a moment, his mate gave a mirthless smile, “But where would we be if our love came easy?”
Where indeed? How could they have ever anticipated that this would happen?
“We’ll have ta do like we always do,” Jazz spoke softly.
“Take each orn as it comes, one orn at a time?”
“One orn at a time,” Jazz answered, head resting on his mate’s shoulder, “Just like always, Prowl.”
“Just like always,” Prowl whispered, “I love you.”
Author: AotA
Rating: T
Warnings: angst
Characters: Jazz, Prowl
Setting: tf-bayverse
Summary: After the war, they had planned on finally fulfilling their bond that the outset of the war had prevented. Only then do they find out that it is not to be.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.
Notes:
Jazz keened in despair as he crushed the data pad in his claws, twisting to curl up into his less expressive alt form. Why did this have to happen? They had known each other for vorns. They had worked, lived, and loved, together, for vorns.
They had put off bonding for vorns when the war had intruded, opting to put off their personal happiness so that they would not be vulnerable or specifically targeted to be taken out. So it was that countless vorns later, they learned of this… this travesty that made a mockery of everything that they were to each other.
After a failed bonding attempt, they consulted with a medic in an attempt to find out why it had gone so frighteningly, hideously wrong.
Jazz lay paralyzed on the berth, unable to so much as twitch. The only thing he could do was stare straight ahead at his mate who was shaking uncontrollably, elegantly shaped fingers shielding his spark where it was exposed by his gaping chest plates.
The other hand reached toward him, trembling. He saw this mate’s lips forming words but they didn’t register. His vision wavered as he was shaken, but he didn’t feel tactile feedback of any sort. Fear showed on his mate’s face and Jazz thought he might understand why when he saw copious amounts of energon clinging to his mate’s hand when it withdrew.
Jazz sublimated his grief into silent rage. He quickly restrained all outer signs of his inner turmoil save for the involuntary furious vibrations of his frame. His mate’s hand came down to rest lightly across his side and skated lightly over armored paneling in a caress.
Jazz could feel the grief that echoed his own in that touch. He leaned into that touch, knowing now that he would never know his mate like others could so easily. The ability-the right-to sparkbond with his beloved was forever denied them. Jazz didn’t notice when his mate silently dismissed the medic and only came back when his mate called his name, speaking for the first time since the pronouncement.
“Jazz,” he said, lowly, an audible shake in his voice, “Love.” On the third word his voice broke with static, “Please.”
The blatant vulnerability, so uncharacteristic of his mate had him twisting out of alt mode and wrapping himself as best as he was able around the larger mech. Jazz pressed their foreheads together, loving and fierce in the same moment. “Ah love you,” he whispered harshly, raw, “Ah don’t need a bond to know that. Ya don’t need a bond to know that. We don’t.”
“And I love you,” was the quiet, wounded response, “How can I not?” If their kind had the ability to cry, Jazz knew that he would be shedding tears of pain, of grief, and of shattered dreams. After a moment, his mate gave a mirthless smile, “But where would we be if our love came easy?”
Where indeed? How could they have ever anticipated that this would happen?
“We’ll have ta do like we always do,” Jazz spoke softly.
“Take each orn as it comes, one orn at a time?”
“One orn at a time,” Jazz answered, head resting on his mate’s shoulder, “Just like always, Prowl.”
“Just like always,” Prowl whispered, “I love you.”