Stepford Porsche 2/2
Part 2
Title: Stepford Porsche
Rating: M
Setting: G1
Pairings/Characters: Prowl/Jazz, Ratchet, Sideswipe, Smokescreen
Summary: Sometimes, in new environments, very old, complex relationships can come up with some very weird, very strange responses. Especially when one of the mechs involved in the relationship is Jazz.
Notes: Look, fanart! *hearts naggingfishwife*
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Neither Prowl nor Jazz moved for several minutes after Smokescreen left, simply staring at each other. A human might assume there was a staring contest going on. Another Cybertronian who didn't know them well might assume they were having a silent conversation via their comms. Their friends would know better, and would quickly vacate the surrounding ten-mile radius if they'd known what was happening. Because Prowl and Jazz were arguing over their bond, and not with words, but with feelings, and that was ten times worse than when they put the soundproofing to good use.
Jazz started it, with a complex mixture of betrayal, embarrassment and anger. Prowl replied with all of his frustration, longing, defensiveness about being right, and stubborn refusal to apologize. Jazz countered with his own frustration, loneliness, and a longing desire to share his recreational activities with his mate. Prowl couldn't stop the faint guilt in his reply, but reinforced his stubborn defensiveness, adding a slight accusation, reminding Jazz who started it. Jazz spat the accusal back, a touch of the initial embarrassment added as a reminder. Prowl let the cool feeling of his logic creep through as he shot back a calm comparison of their exchanges, silently pointing out that they were tossing the same arguments at each other. Jazz's reply wasn't apologetic, but it was faintly guilty, mostly appalled, and also accusatory - silently saying that just because he'd succumbed to drastic, inappropriate measures, didn't mean Prowl had had to.
Prowl actually snorted out loud, breaking the silence, and Jazz gave him a startled look, surprise and wary curiosity filtering over the bond. In response, Prowl blasted Jazz with every bit of frustration he'd experienced over the past week. First came the frustrated anger from every time Jazz refused to argue with him, over work or personal matters. Then came the more personal frustration, from every time Jazz smiled, every time he snuggled up against Prowl, or Prowl came out of recharge next to his mate, the one time Jazz had helped Prowl clean his doorwings in their private wash rack before disappearing, and the frequent massages of the joints. They'd piled up as Jazz had turned away or deftly diverted Prowl from interfacing, and Prowl had no problem hitting Jazz with the full force of that accumulation now. Jazz physically staggered backwards a step, taking a few moments to recover before beginning to laugh.
"You...you did all this just because you weren't getting any?!" Jazz asked between giggles. Prowl gave his mate an irritated look.
"That wasn't the only reason." he replied irritably, sending a ghost of that first angry frustration across the bond to remind his mate, but Jazz brushed it aside.
"But it is what made you involve Smokescreen." Jazz said with a snicker. "Primus, he would be traumatized for life if he knew that."
"As if he wasn't already." Prowl said, looking pointedly at the apron. "Can you please take that off? And destroy it?"
"I dunno, I've kinda come to like it." Jazz said with amusement, and Prowl glared at his mate, sending a feeling of pure loathing across the bond, accompanied by a slight submission - Jazz had won, he could take it off now. "No, seriously, I thought Smokey was going to crash when he saw me wearing it. It was entertaining." Jazz insisted.
"I'd rather not have to deal with the repercussions of that, thank you." Prowl said with a shudder, already visualizing the uncomfortable conversation with Prime. Any conversation where Prime had to ask Prowl to rein in, or even explain, Jazz's more...interesting behaviour was always uncomfortable. And worse, if Jazz started wearing Cybertronian-sized human clothing around the Ark and getting entertaining reactions for it, Sideswipe might start getting ideas.
"Well, if you want it off and destroyed, you're going to have to come take it off." Jazz said smugly, his stance suddenly saucy, and Prowl arched an optic ridge at his mate. He sent a questioning buzz along the bond - they always ended up speaking more through their bond after getting over an argument - and the reply was pure lust, accompanied by a heated glance. Prowl had been right - he wasn't the only one feeling the lack of 'physical interaction' in their relationship. Prowl smirked, then in one smooth motion, pushed himself up from his chair and launched himself at Jazz. The saboteur ducked out of the way, but Prowl was already anticipating that, rolling as he landed and coming up on his feet. His hand shot out, and he brushed plastic, but couldn't get a grip before Jazz was dancing out of the way, on the other side of the couch before Prowl could grab him.
Prowl turned back to find his mate grinning widely, almost hopping from foot to foot as he silently taunted Prowl to come get him, pointedly playing with the pink apron. Prowl considered his next movie carefully, then dove again - this time for the lights. Jazz realized this too late, lurching forward only to twist away and head for the bedroom - where the lights were still on - as he saw Prowl was going to get to the light switch before him. Prowl didn't mind - it would take Jazz five seconds to disable the light switch in the bedroom, and he could get there in plenty of time. Using the furniture and the corners of the walls in almost sling-shot manoeuvres to give himself more speed, Prowl was through the door to the bedroom in three seconds, and had knocked Jazz's legs out from under him the next second. The wiring of the light switch was hang out of the wall, but Prowl had watched Jazz do this before - it had originally been for a mission - and he knew exactly where the saboteur was. It took him less time to fix and switch off the lights than it had taken Jazz to try and break it, and then the bedroom was plunged into darkness.
Prowl stilled immediately, switching to his sensors. They weren't medical, and weren't as far-ranging as Hound's, but they were precisely calibrated, and could pick up almost anything. They were the reason why Prowl actually had the advantage on Jazz in the dark - Jazz's visor may have allowed him to see in the dark, but unless there was some modicum of light, he was limited to black-and-white or infrared, both of which had their drawbacks, such as lack of depth perception and identification of living Cybertronian versus advanced Cybertronian technology. Prowl sensors, on the other hand, could provide him with everything but a visual, and in such a familiar location, he could provide the visual himself, matching sensor readings to his mental map of the room.
Jazz, of course, knew this, and the first motion Prowl caught was something going flying, followed by a soft whooshing sound, almost like water, and several heavy thuds. He turned his sensors in that direction, and it took him only a moment to realize what Jazz had knocked over - his Zen rock garden, previously sitting up on a small table. The sand and the rocks were scattered across the floor of their bedroom, making the room just that much more different than Prowl remembered it. It was supposed to throw Prowl off, but all it did was let the tactician know that he was still between Jazz and the door, and he smiled to himself before focusing his scans on the far side of the room.
Prowl picked up the anomaly almost immediately, though it was off due to the apron, and he quickly set his sensors to track it as he stalked forward, wary of the sand and rocks on the floor. It wouldn't do to slip or knock one of the rocks - noise was Jazz's specialty, after all. Fortunately, Prowl was close to the recharge berth, and had no problems using it as an alternative to the floor, prowling along it smoothly as Jazz warily, carefully, edged towards the door. The saboteur's head kept turning from side to side, obviously trying to catch sight of Prowl, or hear him, but Prowl could tell when Jazz's visor was pointed in his direction - it was so wonderfully different from the rest of Jazz's body, after all - and froze when his mate was looking his way. He could be almost invisible that way, especially next to the recharge berth, which had more than the usual amount of wiring running through it.
Finally, Jazz had reached the door, and with one last, swift look around, he darted through - and for a split second, his back was to Prowl. It was all the tactician needed, darting forward and latching onto the ends of the bow keeping the apron tied on. A sharp tug, and the bow was undone. The only thing keeping the apron on now was the neck strap, and that would be easy to deal with.
Jazz had, of course, felt the tug, and the loosening of the apron, and cursed, wrenching away, but Prowl, following the tug of the apron that he still hadn't let go of, followed easily. Jazz's own momentum as he tried to get away worked against him, and Prowl managed to spin him around and crowd him into a corner. Jazz's own body restrained one of his arms, and Prowl held down the other, so the saboteur was helpless to stop Prowl as he removed the apron. Prowl spent a split second deciding what to do with the offending garment, and in the end, slipped it into his subspace. Bondmates could access each other's subspace, so it wasn't exactly safe there, but it was out of immediate reach, and pretty soon, if Prowl had his way, Jazz wouldn't be able to put up the extra effort to get the apron out of Prowl's subspace.
"Much better." Prowl murmured in the darkness, and he felt Jazz strain against him. They were pretty evenly matched for strength, so Prowl knew he couldn't hold Jazz for long. He also knew that he probably shouldn't hold onto Jazz for long - the saboteur had been playing submissive long enough. So when he felt his hold breaking, Prowl willingly let go, jumping backwards and darting for the bedroom. His sensors didn't pick up Jazz following, but he knew his mate was. He still didn't stop until he reached the recharge berth, however, jumping up on it and turning, crouching as he began scanning for his mate. His scans were stopped short, however, when the lights suddenly turned on, and Prowl was momentarily disoriented as he tried to deal with all the new sensory data.
Jazz, of course, took immediate advantage of Prowl's weakness, and by the time Prowl had recovered enough to actually do something, he was pressed down on the berth, held down by the weight of Jazz's body. This wouldn't have been a bad thing if his systems weren't screaming at him that his subspace was open, and he tried to throw Jazz off, knowing what the saboteur was after. Evidently his subspace wasn't a safe enough place.
Jazz was persistent, however, and Prowl couldn't shake him. A flash of pink alerted him when it was too late, and he immediately went limp, scowling up at Jazz. The saboteur grinned down at him, raising one hand holding the apron, and that slight shift in Jazz's weight was all Prowl needed to toss the saboteur off. Jazz yelped, but rolled to his feet easily, bouncing up and making a dive for the recharge berth even as Prowl rolled out of the way, pushing himself off the berth. He paused, however, as he felt something catch on his hand - it wasn't very strong, he could probably snap it without much trouble, but as he hesitated, Jazz grabbed his other hand, and pulled it back with the other.
Amused, Prowl glanced under his doorwing, unsurprised to find the pink apron currently tying his wrists behind his back. He tugged experimentally at it, and was suddenly pulled backwards. His legs bumped into the edge of the berth and he fell onto it, but he was caught a moment before his potentially jarring landing, instead being gently lowered. Prowl had a brief flash of a wolfish grin on Jazz's faceplate before his mate's lips closed on his own, rough and aggressive, and full of the passion and lust Prowl had been desperately missing for the past week. The tactician replied with equal passion, and growled in annoyance when Jazz drew away.
"Y'know, I think it looks better on you, anyways, Prowl." Jazz murmured, grinning mischievously as his hands wandering over Prowl's chassis, fondling the tactician's headlights and sensitive seams in his armour.
"Less effective this way, though." Prowl replied as he squirmed under Jazz's attention.
"I wouldn't say that." Jazz said with a grin. "I mean, all I have to do is tell you that you won't be getting any if you break it, and - hm, I think you'd have more luck getting out of high-security energon binders now, wouldn't you?" his mate's grin was positively wicked, and Prowl glared at him, knowing Jazz was right. He also knew, at this point, that the same would have been true of Jazz if their positions were reversed, and that mollified him more than anything else...well, except for the fact that Jazz's hands were still wandering across his chassis and Primus was it hard to concentrate on anything when he was doing that.
Jazz, naturally, knew that, and took full advantage of it, cheerfully continuing talking. Prowl didn't hear half of what his mate said, but he thought he heard something about concerts and parties and owing something to Jazz. He didn't have the focus anymore to catch anything other than that, especially when Jazz started flicking his glossa along those same sensitive spots, one of his mate's hands drifting down to Prowl's legs and pelvis. Prowl's circuits were singing with the sensations Jazz was causing, warnings flashing in his system, and he was vaguely aware that he should be embarrassed by how easily and quickly he was getting worked up. Then, Jazz's mouth was on his again, and any thoughts were gone as he strained his neck cables to try and deepen the kiss, which Jazz was keeping maddeningly light, continually pulling back as Prowl tried to deepen it. Prowl growled in frustration, and Jazz chuckled against his lips. Jazz's glossa flicked out in a quick swipe at Prowl's lips, and then he drew away, moving so that he was straddling Prowl's thighs. The saboteur just sat there, his hands lightly resting on Prowl's waist, looking amused as he watched Prowl's systems slowly cool down.
"Wow, you are deprived." Jazz said when Prowl's glare assured him that his mate was capable of coherent thought again. "You haven't been this easily worked up since we woke up here on Earth."
"You're hardly unaffected yourself." Prowl pointed out, aware now of the heat Jazz was putting off, and of how the saboteur's visor was glowing much brighter.
"Never said I wasn't." Jazz replied with a grin, fingers beginning to play along Prowl's sides, re-igniting the over-sensitive circuits. Prowl groaned, unconsciously squirming into the touches, wanting them to be heavier, more intense. Jazz chuckled again, but this time it was lower, more sensuous, and Prowl made a happy noise as his mate leaned down, kissing him passionately. Jazz's hands were gone, supporting him so he didn't put his full weight down on Prowl and possibly hurt the other mech's doorwings or shoulders, but that was fine, because this was so much better. Even when he wasn't so keyed up, Jazz's kisses could nearly send Prowl into overload, and his mate seemed to be trying harder than usual this time. Prowl's systems were flashing warnings at him within moments, and when Jazz unexpectedly pressed himself down against Prowl, letting his own heated chassis press against Prowl's, the tactician went over the edge.
The world faded away, leaving only Prowl and a vague impression of Jazz above him. Pleasure roiled through Prowl's circuits as his processor tried to shunt the excess energy around to help disperse it, burning through circuits Jazz hadn't even gone near. Prowl's hands twitched, wanting to grab onto his mate, to bring him the same pleasure, but even in the midst of overload, Jazz's comment stayed with Prowl, and he didn't snap the plastic. Instead Prowl arched up against Jazz as his systems admitted defeat and threw open all the circuits, flooding everything and sending so much sensory data to Prowl's processor that it shut down.
When his processor rebooted, and Prowl's optics focused, the first thing he became aware of was the relaxed smile on his face. Second after that was Jazz still above him, pressed close and radiating heat, looking hungrily at his mate and wickedly close to his own overload. Prowl didn't hesitate this time, knowing Jazz's threat was useless now, and flexed his arms, snapping the plastic holding his wrists behind his back. Jazz didn't say a word as Prowl's hands reached up and roughly pulled him down, one hand cupping the back of the saboteur's neck, fingers caressing the sensitive seam between helm and neck cables while he kissed his mate fiercely. The other hand played along the top edge of Jazz's pelvis, a particularly sensitive spot for the saboteur, before reaching up to tease along the underside of Jazz's bumper.
Jazz moaned against Prowl's lips, and the saboteur's arms abruptly collapsed, landing his entire weight on Prowl - who really didn't mind - as his systems burned through their own overload. Prowl pulled away slightly, watching his mate's face with fascination, as he usually did while Jazz overloaded. It was a sight he'd never get tired of, didn't think it was possible to get tired of. It was so incredibly beautiful, and it was always the same and always just slightly different. And then, there was his favourite part, when the overload was over and Jazz was still recovering, and the saboteur had the most peaceful smile on his face, and murmured 'love ya, Prowl'. Prowl smiled as he heard it for the first time in over an earth week, and knew in his spark that he'd never let an argument between them go on this long again. He was all for the daily arguments to help keep him on his toes, but he was not going to let one get in the way of him seeing Jazz like this for so long again.
"Tha's a really sappy grin, I hope y'know." Jazz murmured as he slowly came back to himself, and Prowl chuckled.
"I love you, Jazz." he said, lifting his head to give his mate a peck on the lips.
"Love you too, Prowl." Jazz said, looking amused, then rolled off Prowl, tugging his mate around and up so they were properly on the berth - neither had particularly cared, but they were still laying crosswise on the berth, with Prowl's legs hanging off the side. Prowl readily followed, shifting to his side to take the pressure off his doorwings, and cuddled up against his mate. There was a pause before Jazz spoke again. "Never again." he declared, and Prowl didn't need to ask what Jazz meant.
"My thoughts exactly." Prowl replied, nuzzling Jazz's neck. "I'm sorry I forgot about your concert, at any rate."
"Eh, don't worry about it. It's just a concert. Would just rather you didn't tire yourself out so much so that when you come home and I'm going out, you can come with me without making me feel all guilty for keepin' ya up when y'should be in recharge." Jazz murmured.
"I have a job to do." Prowl pointed out.
"Yeah, and you do it along with half of everyone else's. Let the rest of the Bots carry their own weight around here. I called dibs on your spare time first." Jazz replied with a grin, and Prowl chuckled.
"Fine, I'll try and ease up on the work load." he said.
"Good. Because you owe me six concerts, five trips to the city, and two parties." Jazz said smugly. Prowl looked up at his mate, startled.
"What?"
"One for one, everything you made me miss this last week." Jazz replied easily.
"I made you miss?" Prowl said incredulously. "You had an equal part in it!"
"You're the one who said no, though." Jazz replied primly.
"You're the one who asked! You can't tell me you didn't know what my answer was going to be, considering the circumstances that were a direct result of you deciding you wanted 'revenge'!" Prowl said. "Besides, I only said no half the time because you were already dead on your feet. I was trying to keep you from exhausting yourself!" Jazz gave him a slightly startled look.
"Seriously?" he asked, and Prowl gave him mate an annoyed look. "Well that's a reversal. But you're still the one who dragged it out."
"I was ready to apologize the night you sprung this all on me. Excuse me if I got a little offended that you had to go and make such a big deal out of it." Prowl growled.
"Anyone ever tell you that you're sexy when you're angry?" Jazz suddenly asked, grinning widely and leaning in to give Prowl a brief, heated kiss. The tactician didn't respond, and started back impassively as Jazz drew away again, still grinning.
"You're incorrigible." he said after a long moment.
"And y'love me for it." Jazz said, cuddling closer to Prowl. Prowl made a wordless noise of agreement as he ducked his head for another kiss, letting his fingers begin wandering again. The initial need was gone, but he had an entire week to make up for. Unexpectedly however, Prowl's hand was pushed away, and Jazz drew back. Prowl gave his mate a surprised look, but Jazz just grinned. "Y'know, I haven't forgotten that you accused me of not paying enough attention to you." Prowl grimaced faintly.
"Jazz -" he started to apologize, but was cut off with a kiss.
"Quiet. Let me pay attention to you." Jazz murmured as he pulled away, and Prowl wanted to object that Jazz just had, but Jazz's fingers were on the joints for his doorwings, fondling the cables in there, and really, Prowl decided, what could it hurt to have more attention? Jazz leaned in to kiss Prowl again, his hand briefly leaving Prowl's doorwing joints to tug on his arm, and the intent was clear. Prowl rolled so he was on top of his mate, straddling Jazz's hips. For humans, this might have put Jazz in a submissive role, but with Prowl's doorwings, it was just more convenient. Prowl was perfectly content to follow Jazz's lead for now, only letting his hands wander slightly, enough to start working Jazz's systems up.
Jazz was more than happy with this arrangement, his hands finding the sensitive spots along Prowl's back that he hadn't been able to reach before, and then he broke the kiss and reached up to mouth at Prowl's chevron. The tactician shivered at the sensation - his chevron wasn't overly sensitive, but it was so thin that it always cold, and Jazz's mouth was very warm. Prowl's hands gripped tightly onto Jazz's bumper as his mate brought his glossa into play, running along the edges of the chevron before planting a kissing in the middle of it and pulling Prowl in for another kiss, one hand resting on the back of Prowl's neck and playing with the seam there, much as Prowl had been doing earlier to Jazz. Prowl moaned into his mate's mouth, his own hands now caressing Jazz's abdomen and looking for sensitive seams.
Jazz, though, apparently still had plans, and gently pushed Prowl upwards. The tactician moaned a protest to that plan, but Jazz followed him as he moved back, licking, nibbling, and kissing along Prowl's jaw and neck, and so Prowl gave up his complaints. Sitting now, Jazz's face was about level with Prowl's Autobot symbol, and that wasn't good for kisses, but that wasn't what Jazz had in mind. Glossa tracing the outline of Prowl's Autobot symbol, Jazz's hands were running over every inch of Prowl, dipping into wheel wells and fondling headlights. It was maddening, and sending Prowl spiralling higher and closer to overload again. Jazz himself wasn't unaffected - Prowl knew from previous experience that Jazz found the sight of him this close to overload intensely erotic.
As caught up in the sensations as he was, Prowl noticed quickly when Jazz's hands stopped their wandering and came to rest on his hips, and they he slowly became aware of the fact that Jazz's kisses on his chassis had moved from his Autobot symbol to the seam where his chest opened. His intakes hitched, and it seemed almost involuntary when the compartment snapped open, baring his spark to his mate. Jazz drew back with a smile, simply looking at Prowl's spark for a moment before looking up at his mate. Love was clear in his expression, and he pulled Prowl down for a kiss before gently rolling and lowering them, so that Prowl was once again on his back, Jazz hovering over him.
"You are absolutely beautiful, love, an' you should throw me in the brig for not spending every moment of my time paying attention to you." Jazz murmured.
"If I did, I'd have to put myself in the brig, or you wouldn't be able to pay attention to me." Prowl countered, and Jazz smiled, leaning down to kiss Prowl again. It was a kiss full of emotion, of love and desire, of apologies and acceptance, and Prowl didn't even notice when Jazz's own chest compartment opened, baring his spark to Prowl's. He felt a brief touch at first, Jazz's spark tentatively brushing against his own, then the two seemed to recognize their mates, and all but slammed together, bringing Jazz and Prowl's minds with them.
As close as he was, it was unsurprising that Prowl felt his overload hitting as soon as he felt Jazz's own arousal, but he hung onto his coherency as long as he could. Jazz was doing the same, and together they swirled through the past week, sharing their emotions, their thoughts. Each hurt was soothed away, each disappointment apologized and made up for, each longing acknowledged. It was a true sharing, of their sparks and of their thoughts, erasing the pain of their argument and reaffirming their love for each other. Then they both lost their grip on coherency and succumbed to their overloads, and they were so unlike the needy, passionate overloads before. They were so much better, a taste of true ecstasy.
Prowl knew he'd lost consciousness from the intensity, and when his optics finally came back into focus, he found Jazz slumped on top of him, clearly offline. Smiling, Prowl gently manoeuvred his mate until they were laying side by side, keeping careful watch on Jazz's face for the moment he knew was coming. He couldn't help it, he wanted to see it again - and he wasn't disappointed. Jazz's visor slowly lit up, and he looked up at Prowl with that wonderfully peaceful smile, free of all the cares and worries of the war and his harsh life.
"Love ya, Prowl." Jazz murmured, and Prowl smiled back.
"I love you too, Jazz." Prowl replied, pulling Jazz closer, and his mate snuggled into the embrace. Prowl felt recharge looming, and knew he should probably go turn off the lights, but he couldn't be bothered. One thing did bring itself to his attention, however, and he debated over it for awhile before deciding that they might as well settle everything from the argument tonight. "One concert." Prowl murmured.
"Three concerts, two trips to the city, and a party," was Jazz's sleepy reply.
"Two concerts. One trip. No parties."
"Three concerts and one trip."
"...deal."
- Epilogue: The Chair -
The Ark seemed almost ecstatic when Prowl showed up late for his shift the next morning, and it wasn't long before mechs stopped putting off their visits to either officer. Mechs came and went from Prowl and Jazz's offices in a steady stream, none of them staying long, despite the two being back to normal. They were too worried about being called on their avoidance, Prowl suspected, and shared his amusement with Jazz over their bond. Finally, around lunchtime, Ratchet showed up. The medic didn't have any reports or briefings in hand, coming to stand in front of Prowl's desk with his arms crossed as he scrutinized the second-in-command.
"Was there something I could help you with, Ratchet?" Prowl asked with amusement.
"I figured I'd come see what all the fuss was about." Ratchet replied. "And personally express my desire that you two never, ever do that again. I have had nothing but a steady stream of mechs coming int- ack!" Ratchet's complaint was cut short as he flopped down into the visitor's chair across from Prowl's desk and was promptly dumped onto the floor. Prowl, startled, stood and peered over his desk at the medic, who was glaring at the offending chair, only to move his glare to Prowl. Prowl opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, unable to think of a single thing to say for once. Ratchet hmphed and stood, brushing himself off.
"Well, you're certainly back to normal." the medic grumbled, then stalked out of Prowl's office. In the wake of the medic's departure, Prowl finally recovered his ability to speak, and opened a comm line to Jazz.
"What's up, Prowl?" was Jazz's cheerful reply.
"How long has the chair been in my office, Jazz?" Prowl asked without preamble. No need to explain what chair he was talking about.
"Almost the entire week." Jazz replied, voice smug. "You didn't think I'd actually fix it or throw it out, did you?"
"...I suppose not. Though, I was rather looking forward to breaking another one." Prowl mused.
"We could still do that. Get a matching one for my office." Jazz's leer was clear in his voice, and was accompanied by lust over their bond. Prowl glanced at the datapads on his desk, piled higher now than they'd been in years, and considered. Then, without a backwards glance, he strode out of his office, heading straight for Jazz's.
- THE END -
Title: Stepford Porsche
Rating: M
Setting: G1
Pairings/Characters: Prowl/Jazz, Ratchet, Sideswipe, Smokescreen
Summary: Sometimes, in new environments, very old, complex relationships can come up with some very weird, very strange responses. Especially when one of the mechs involved in the relationship is Jazz.
Notes: Look, fanart! *hearts naggingfishwife*
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Neither Prowl nor Jazz moved for several minutes after Smokescreen left, simply staring at each other. A human might assume there was a staring contest going on. Another Cybertronian who didn't know them well might assume they were having a silent conversation via their comms. Their friends would know better, and would quickly vacate the surrounding ten-mile radius if they'd known what was happening. Because Prowl and Jazz were arguing over their bond, and not with words, but with feelings, and that was ten times worse than when they put the soundproofing to good use.
Jazz started it, with a complex mixture of betrayal, embarrassment and anger. Prowl replied with all of his frustration, longing, defensiveness about being right, and stubborn refusal to apologize. Jazz countered with his own frustration, loneliness, and a longing desire to share his recreational activities with his mate. Prowl couldn't stop the faint guilt in his reply, but reinforced his stubborn defensiveness, adding a slight accusation, reminding Jazz who started it. Jazz spat the accusal back, a touch of the initial embarrassment added as a reminder. Prowl let the cool feeling of his logic creep through as he shot back a calm comparison of their exchanges, silently pointing out that they were tossing the same arguments at each other. Jazz's reply wasn't apologetic, but it was faintly guilty, mostly appalled, and also accusatory - silently saying that just because he'd succumbed to drastic, inappropriate measures, didn't mean Prowl had had to.
Prowl actually snorted out loud, breaking the silence, and Jazz gave him a startled look, surprise and wary curiosity filtering over the bond. In response, Prowl blasted Jazz with every bit of frustration he'd experienced over the past week. First came the frustrated anger from every time Jazz refused to argue with him, over work or personal matters. Then came the more personal frustration, from every time Jazz smiled, every time he snuggled up against Prowl, or Prowl came out of recharge next to his mate, the one time Jazz had helped Prowl clean his doorwings in their private wash rack before disappearing, and the frequent massages of the joints. They'd piled up as Jazz had turned away or deftly diverted Prowl from interfacing, and Prowl had no problem hitting Jazz with the full force of that accumulation now. Jazz physically staggered backwards a step, taking a few moments to recover before beginning to laugh.
"You...you did all this just because you weren't getting any?!" Jazz asked between giggles. Prowl gave his mate an irritated look.
"That wasn't the only reason." he replied irritably, sending a ghost of that first angry frustration across the bond to remind his mate, but Jazz brushed it aside.
"But it is what made you involve Smokescreen." Jazz said with a snicker. "Primus, he would be traumatized for life if he knew that."
"As if he wasn't already." Prowl said, looking pointedly at the apron. "Can you please take that off? And destroy it?"
"I dunno, I've kinda come to like it." Jazz said with amusement, and Prowl glared at his mate, sending a feeling of pure loathing across the bond, accompanied by a slight submission - Jazz had won, he could take it off now. "No, seriously, I thought Smokey was going to crash when he saw me wearing it. It was entertaining." Jazz insisted.
"I'd rather not have to deal with the repercussions of that, thank you." Prowl said with a shudder, already visualizing the uncomfortable conversation with Prime. Any conversation where Prime had to ask Prowl to rein in, or even explain, Jazz's more...interesting behaviour was always uncomfortable. And worse, if Jazz started wearing Cybertronian-sized human clothing around the Ark and getting entertaining reactions for it, Sideswipe might start getting ideas.
"Well, if you want it off and destroyed, you're going to have to come take it off." Jazz said smugly, his stance suddenly saucy, and Prowl arched an optic ridge at his mate. He sent a questioning buzz along the bond - they always ended up speaking more through their bond after getting over an argument - and the reply was pure lust, accompanied by a heated glance. Prowl had been right - he wasn't the only one feeling the lack of 'physical interaction' in their relationship. Prowl smirked, then in one smooth motion, pushed himself up from his chair and launched himself at Jazz. The saboteur ducked out of the way, but Prowl was already anticipating that, rolling as he landed and coming up on his feet. His hand shot out, and he brushed plastic, but couldn't get a grip before Jazz was dancing out of the way, on the other side of the couch before Prowl could grab him.
Prowl turned back to find his mate grinning widely, almost hopping from foot to foot as he silently taunted Prowl to come get him, pointedly playing with the pink apron. Prowl considered his next movie carefully, then dove again - this time for the lights. Jazz realized this too late, lurching forward only to twist away and head for the bedroom - where the lights were still on - as he saw Prowl was going to get to the light switch before him. Prowl didn't mind - it would take Jazz five seconds to disable the light switch in the bedroom, and he could get there in plenty of time. Using the furniture and the corners of the walls in almost sling-shot manoeuvres to give himself more speed, Prowl was through the door to the bedroom in three seconds, and had knocked Jazz's legs out from under him the next second. The wiring of the light switch was hang out of the wall, but Prowl had watched Jazz do this before - it had originally been for a mission - and he knew exactly where the saboteur was. It took him less time to fix and switch off the lights than it had taken Jazz to try and break it, and then the bedroom was plunged into darkness.
Prowl stilled immediately, switching to his sensors. They weren't medical, and weren't as far-ranging as Hound's, but they were precisely calibrated, and could pick up almost anything. They were the reason why Prowl actually had the advantage on Jazz in the dark - Jazz's visor may have allowed him to see in the dark, but unless there was some modicum of light, he was limited to black-and-white or infrared, both of which had their drawbacks, such as lack of depth perception and identification of living Cybertronian versus advanced Cybertronian technology. Prowl sensors, on the other hand, could provide him with everything but a visual, and in such a familiar location, he could provide the visual himself, matching sensor readings to his mental map of the room.
Jazz, of course, knew this, and the first motion Prowl caught was something going flying, followed by a soft whooshing sound, almost like water, and several heavy thuds. He turned his sensors in that direction, and it took him only a moment to realize what Jazz had knocked over - his Zen rock garden, previously sitting up on a small table. The sand and the rocks were scattered across the floor of their bedroom, making the room just that much more different than Prowl remembered it. It was supposed to throw Prowl off, but all it did was let the tactician know that he was still between Jazz and the door, and he smiled to himself before focusing his scans on the far side of the room.
Prowl picked up the anomaly almost immediately, though it was off due to the apron, and he quickly set his sensors to track it as he stalked forward, wary of the sand and rocks on the floor. It wouldn't do to slip or knock one of the rocks - noise was Jazz's specialty, after all. Fortunately, Prowl was close to the recharge berth, and had no problems using it as an alternative to the floor, prowling along it smoothly as Jazz warily, carefully, edged towards the door. The saboteur's head kept turning from side to side, obviously trying to catch sight of Prowl, or hear him, but Prowl could tell when Jazz's visor was pointed in his direction - it was so wonderfully different from the rest of Jazz's body, after all - and froze when his mate was looking his way. He could be almost invisible that way, especially next to the recharge berth, which had more than the usual amount of wiring running through it.
Finally, Jazz had reached the door, and with one last, swift look around, he darted through - and for a split second, his back was to Prowl. It was all the tactician needed, darting forward and latching onto the ends of the bow keeping the apron tied on. A sharp tug, and the bow was undone. The only thing keeping the apron on now was the neck strap, and that would be easy to deal with.
Jazz had, of course, felt the tug, and the loosening of the apron, and cursed, wrenching away, but Prowl, following the tug of the apron that he still hadn't let go of, followed easily. Jazz's own momentum as he tried to get away worked against him, and Prowl managed to spin him around and crowd him into a corner. Jazz's own body restrained one of his arms, and Prowl held down the other, so the saboteur was helpless to stop Prowl as he removed the apron. Prowl spent a split second deciding what to do with the offending garment, and in the end, slipped it into his subspace. Bondmates could access each other's subspace, so it wasn't exactly safe there, but it was out of immediate reach, and pretty soon, if Prowl had his way, Jazz wouldn't be able to put up the extra effort to get the apron out of Prowl's subspace.
"Much better." Prowl murmured in the darkness, and he felt Jazz strain against him. They were pretty evenly matched for strength, so Prowl knew he couldn't hold Jazz for long. He also knew that he probably shouldn't hold onto Jazz for long - the saboteur had been playing submissive long enough. So when he felt his hold breaking, Prowl willingly let go, jumping backwards and darting for the bedroom. His sensors didn't pick up Jazz following, but he knew his mate was. He still didn't stop until he reached the recharge berth, however, jumping up on it and turning, crouching as he began scanning for his mate. His scans were stopped short, however, when the lights suddenly turned on, and Prowl was momentarily disoriented as he tried to deal with all the new sensory data.
Jazz, of course, took immediate advantage of Prowl's weakness, and by the time Prowl had recovered enough to actually do something, he was pressed down on the berth, held down by the weight of Jazz's body. This wouldn't have been a bad thing if his systems weren't screaming at him that his subspace was open, and he tried to throw Jazz off, knowing what the saboteur was after. Evidently his subspace wasn't a safe enough place.
Jazz was persistent, however, and Prowl couldn't shake him. A flash of pink alerted him when it was too late, and he immediately went limp, scowling up at Jazz. The saboteur grinned down at him, raising one hand holding the apron, and that slight shift in Jazz's weight was all Prowl needed to toss the saboteur off. Jazz yelped, but rolled to his feet easily, bouncing up and making a dive for the recharge berth even as Prowl rolled out of the way, pushing himself off the berth. He paused, however, as he felt something catch on his hand - it wasn't very strong, he could probably snap it without much trouble, but as he hesitated, Jazz grabbed his other hand, and pulled it back with the other.
Amused, Prowl glanced under his doorwing, unsurprised to find the pink apron currently tying his wrists behind his back. He tugged experimentally at it, and was suddenly pulled backwards. His legs bumped into the edge of the berth and he fell onto it, but he was caught a moment before his potentially jarring landing, instead being gently lowered. Prowl had a brief flash of a wolfish grin on Jazz's faceplate before his mate's lips closed on his own, rough and aggressive, and full of the passion and lust Prowl had been desperately missing for the past week. The tactician replied with equal passion, and growled in annoyance when Jazz drew away.
"Y'know, I think it looks better on you, anyways, Prowl." Jazz murmured, grinning mischievously as his hands wandering over Prowl's chassis, fondling the tactician's headlights and sensitive seams in his armour.
"Less effective this way, though." Prowl replied as he squirmed under Jazz's attention.
"I wouldn't say that." Jazz said with a grin. "I mean, all I have to do is tell you that you won't be getting any if you break it, and - hm, I think you'd have more luck getting out of high-security energon binders now, wouldn't you?" his mate's grin was positively wicked, and Prowl glared at him, knowing Jazz was right. He also knew, at this point, that the same would have been true of Jazz if their positions were reversed, and that mollified him more than anything else...well, except for the fact that Jazz's hands were still wandering across his chassis and Primus was it hard to concentrate on anything when he was doing that.
Jazz, naturally, knew that, and took full advantage of it, cheerfully continuing talking. Prowl didn't hear half of what his mate said, but he thought he heard something about concerts and parties and owing something to Jazz. He didn't have the focus anymore to catch anything other than that, especially when Jazz started flicking his glossa along those same sensitive spots, one of his mate's hands drifting down to Prowl's legs and pelvis. Prowl's circuits were singing with the sensations Jazz was causing, warnings flashing in his system, and he was vaguely aware that he should be embarrassed by how easily and quickly he was getting worked up. Then, Jazz's mouth was on his again, and any thoughts were gone as he strained his neck cables to try and deepen the kiss, which Jazz was keeping maddeningly light, continually pulling back as Prowl tried to deepen it. Prowl growled in frustration, and Jazz chuckled against his lips. Jazz's glossa flicked out in a quick swipe at Prowl's lips, and then he drew away, moving so that he was straddling Prowl's thighs. The saboteur just sat there, his hands lightly resting on Prowl's waist, looking amused as he watched Prowl's systems slowly cool down.
"Wow, you are deprived." Jazz said when Prowl's glare assured him that his mate was capable of coherent thought again. "You haven't been this easily worked up since we woke up here on Earth."
"You're hardly unaffected yourself." Prowl pointed out, aware now of the heat Jazz was putting off, and of how the saboteur's visor was glowing much brighter.
"Never said I wasn't." Jazz replied with a grin, fingers beginning to play along Prowl's sides, re-igniting the over-sensitive circuits. Prowl groaned, unconsciously squirming into the touches, wanting them to be heavier, more intense. Jazz chuckled again, but this time it was lower, more sensuous, and Prowl made a happy noise as his mate leaned down, kissing him passionately. Jazz's hands were gone, supporting him so he didn't put his full weight down on Prowl and possibly hurt the other mech's doorwings or shoulders, but that was fine, because this was so much better. Even when he wasn't so keyed up, Jazz's kisses could nearly send Prowl into overload, and his mate seemed to be trying harder than usual this time. Prowl's systems were flashing warnings at him within moments, and when Jazz unexpectedly pressed himself down against Prowl, letting his own heated chassis press against Prowl's, the tactician went over the edge.
The world faded away, leaving only Prowl and a vague impression of Jazz above him. Pleasure roiled through Prowl's circuits as his processor tried to shunt the excess energy around to help disperse it, burning through circuits Jazz hadn't even gone near. Prowl's hands twitched, wanting to grab onto his mate, to bring him the same pleasure, but even in the midst of overload, Jazz's comment stayed with Prowl, and he didn't snap the plastic. Instead Prowl arched up against Jazz as his systems admitted defeat and threw open all the circuits, flooding everything and sending so much sensory data to Prowl's processor that it shut down.
When his processor rebooted, and Prowl's optics focused, the first thing he became aware of was the relaxed smile on his face. Second after that was Jazz still above him, pressed close and radiating heat, looking hungrily at his mate and wickedly close to his own overload. Prowl didn't hesitate this time, knowing Jazz's threat was useless now, and flexed his arms, snapping the plastic holding his wrists behind his back. Jazz didn't say a word as Prowl's hands reached up and roughly pulled him down, one hand cupping the back of the saboteur's neck, fingers caressing the sensitive seam between helm and neck cables while he kissed his mate fiercely. The other hand played along the top edge of Jazz's pelvis, a particularly sensitive spot for the saboteur, before reaching up to tease along the underside of Jazz's bumper.
Jazz moaned against Prowl's lips, and the saboteur's arms abruptly collapsed, landing his entire weight on Prowl - who really didn't mind - as his systems burned through their own overload. Prowl pulled away slightly, watching his mate's face with fascination, as he usually did while Jazz overloaded. It was a sight he'd never get tired of, didn't think it was possible to get tired of. It was so incredibly beautiful, and it was always the same and always just slightly different. And then, there was his favourite part, when the overload was over and Jazz was still recovering, and the saboteur had the most peaceful smile on his face, and murmured 'love ya, Prowl'. Prowl smiled as he heard it for the first time in over an earth week, and knew in his spark that he'd never let an argument between them go on this long again. He was all for the daily arguments to help keep him on his toes, but he was not going to let one get in the way of him seeing Jazz like this for so long again.
"Tha's a really sappy grin, I hope y'know." Jazz murmured as he slowly came back to himself, and Prowl chuckled.
"I love you, Jazz." he said, lifting his head to give his mate a peck on the lips.
"Love you too, Prowl." Jazz said, looking amused, then rolled off Prowl, tugging his mate around and up so they were properly on the berth - neither had particularly cared, but they were still laying crosswise on the berth, with Prowl's legs hanging off the side. Prowl readily followed, shifting to his side to take the pressure off his doorwings, and cuddled up against his mate. There was a pause before Jazz spoke again. "Never again." he declared, and Prowl didn't need to ask what Jazz meant.
"My thoughts exactly." Prowl replied, nuzzling Jazz's neck. "I'm sorry I forgot about your concert, at any rate."
"Eh, don't worry about it. It's just a concert. Would just rather you didn't tire yourself out so much so that when you come home and I'm going out, you can come with me without making me feel all guilty for keepin' ya up when y'should be in recharge." Jazz murmured.
"I have a job to do." Prowl pointed out.
"Yeah, and you do it along with half of everyone else's. Let the rest of the Bots carry their own weight around here. I called dibs on your spare time first." Jazz replied with a grin, and Prowl chuckled.
"Fine, I'll try and ease up on the work load." he said.
"Good. Because you owe me six concerts, five trips to the city, and two parties." Jazz said smugly. Prowl looked up at his mate, startled.
"What?"
"One for one, everything you made me miss this last week." Jazz replied easily.
"I made you miss?" Prowl said incredulously. "You had an equal part in it!"
"You're the one who said no, though." Jazz replied primly.
"You're the one who asked! You can't tell me you didn't know what my answer was going to be, considering the circumstances that were a direct result of you deciding you wanted 'revenge'!" Prowl said. "Besides, I only said no half the time because you were already dead on your feet. I was trying to keep you from exhausting yourself!" Jazz gave him a slightly startled look.
"Seriously?" he asked, and Prowl gave him mate an annoyed look. "Well that's a reversal. But you're still the one who dragged it out."
"I was ready to apologize the night you sprung this all on me. Excuse me if I got a little offended that you had to go and make such a big deal out of it." Prowl growled.
"Anyone ever tell you that you're sexy when you're angry?" Jazz suddenly asked, grinning widely and leaning in to give Prowl a brief, heated kiss. The tactician didn't respond, and started back impassively as Jazz drew away again, still grinning.
"You're incorrigible." he said after a long moment.
"And y'love me for it." Jazz said, cuddling closer to Prowl. Prowl made a wordless noise of agreement as he ducked his head for another kiss, letting his fingers begin wandering again. The initial need was gone, but he had an entire week to make up for. Unexpectedly however, Prowl's hand was pushed away, and Jazz drew back. Prowl gave his mate a surprised look, but Jazz just grinned. "Y'know, I haven't forgotten that you accused me of not paying enough attention to you." Prowl grimaced faintly.
"Jazz -" he started to apologize, but was cut off with a kiss.
"Quiet. Let me pay attention to you." Jazz murmured as he pulled away, and Prowl wanted to object that Jazz just had, but Jazz's fingers were on the joints for his doorwings, fondling the cables in there, and really, Prowl decided, what could it hurt to have more attention? Jazz leaned in to kiss Prowl again, his hand briefly leaving Prowl's doorwing joints to tug on his arm, and the intent was clear. Prowl rolled so he was on top of his mate, straddling Jazz's hips. For humans, this might have put Jazz in a submissive role, but with Prowl's doorwings, it was just more convenient. Prowl was perfectly content to follow Jazz's lead for now, only letting his hands wander slightly, enough to start working Jazz's systems up.
Jazz was more than happy with this arrangement, his hands finding the sensitive spots along Prowl's back that he hadn't been able to reach before, and then he broke the kiss and reached up to mouth at Prowl's chevron. The tactician shivered at the sensation - his chevron wasn't overly sensitive, but it was so thin that it always cold, and Jazz's mouth was very warm. Prowl's hands gripped tightly onto Jazz's bumper as his mate brought his glossa into play, running along the edges of the chevron before planting a kissing in the middle of it and pulling Prowl in for another kiss, one hand resting on the back of Prowl's neck and playing with the seam there, much as Prowl had been doing earlier to Jazz. Prowl moaned into his mate's mouth, his own hands now caressing Jazz's abdomen and looking for sensitive seams.
Jazz, though, apparently still had plans, and gently pushed Prowl upwards. The tactician moaned a protest to that plan, but Jazz followed him as he moved back, licking, nibbling, and kissing along Prowl's jaw and neck, and so Prowl gave up his complaints. Sitting now, Jazz's face was about level with Prowl's Autobot symbol, and that wasn't good for kisses, but that wasn't what Jazz had in mind. Glossa tracing the outline of Prowl's Autobot symbol, Jazz's hands were running over every inch of Prowl, dipping into wheel wells and fondling headlights. It was maddening, and sending Prowl spiralling higher and closer to overload again. Jazz himself wasn't unaffected - Prowl knew from previous experience that Jazz found the sight of him this close to overload intensely erotic.
As caught up in the sensations as he was, Prowl noticed quickly when Jazz's hands stopped their wandering and came to rest on his hips, and they he slowly became aware of the fact that Jazz's kisses on his chassis had moved from his Autobot symbol to the seam where his chest opened. His intakes hitched, and it seemed almost involuntary when the compartment snapped open, baring his spark to his mate. Jazz drew back with a smile, simply looking at Prowl's spark for a moment before looking up at his mate. Love was clear in his expression, and he pulled Prowl down for a kiss before gently rolling and lowering them, so that Prowl was once again on his back, Jazz hovering over him.
"You are absolutely beautiful, love, an' you should throw me in the brig for not spending every moment of my time paying attention to you." Jazz murmured.
"If I did, I'd have to put myself in the brig, or you wouldn't be able to pay attention to me." Prowl countered, and Jazz smiled, leaning down to kiss Prowl again. It was a kiss full of emotion, of love and desire, of apologies and acceptance, and Prowl didn't even notice when Jazz's own chest compartment opened, baring his spark to Prowl's. He felt a brief touch at first, Jazz's spark tentatively brushing against his own, then the two seemed to recognize their mates, and all but slammed together, bringing Jazz and Prowl's minds with them.
As close as he was, it was unsurprising that Prowl felt his overload hitting as soon as he felt Jazz's own arousal, but he hung onto his coherency as long as he could. Jazz was doing the same, and together they swirled through the past week, sharing their emotions, their thoughts. Each hurt was soothed away, each disappointment apologized and made up for, each longing acknowledged. It was a true sharing, of their sparks and of their thoughts, erasing the pain of their argument and reaffirming their love for each other. Then they both lost their grip on coherency and succumbed to their overloads, and they were so unlike the needy, passionate overloads before. They were so much better, a taste of true ecstasy.
Prowl knew he'd lost consciousness from the intensity, and when his optics finally came back into focus, he found Jazz slumped on top of him, clearly offline. Smiling, Prowl gently manoeuvred his mate until they were laying side by side, keeping careful watch on Jazz's face for the moment he knew was coming. He couldn't help it, he wanted to see it again - and he wasn't disappointed. Jazz's visor slowly lit up, and he looked up at Prowl with that wonderfully peaceful smile, free of all the cares and worries of the war and his harsh life.
"Love ya, Prowl." Jazz murmured, and Prowl smiled back.
"I love you too, Jazz." Prowl replied, pulling Jazz closer, and his mate snuggled into the embrace. Prowl felt recharge looming, and knew he should probably go turn off the lights, but he couldn't be bothered. One thing did bring itself to his attention, however, and he debated over it for awhile before deciding that they might as well settle everything from the argument tonight. "One concert." Prowl murmured.
"Three concerts, two trips to the city, and a party," was Jazz's sleepy reply.
"Two concerts. One trip. No parties."
"Three concerts and one trip."
"...deal."
- Epilogue: The Chair -
The Ark seemed almost ecstatic when Prowl showed up late for his shift the next morning, and it wasn't long before mechs stopped putting off their visits to either officer. Mechs came and went from Prowl and Jazz's offices in a steady stream, none of them staying long, despite the two being back to normal. They were too worried about being called on their avoidance, Prowl suspected, and shared his amusement with Jazz over their bond. Finally, around lunchtime, Ratchet showed up. The medic didn't have any reports or briefings in hand, coming to stand in front of Prowl's desk with his arms crossed as he scrutinized the second-in-command.
"Was there something I could help you with, Ratchet?" Prowl asked with amusement.
"I figured I'd come see what all the fuss was about." Ratchet replied. "And personally express my desire that you two never, ever do that again. I have had nothing but a steady stream of mechs coming int- ack!" Ratchet's complaint was cut short as he flopped down into the visitor's chair across from Prowl's desk and was promptly dumped onto the floor. Prowl, startled, stood and peered over his desk at the medic, who was glaring at the offending chair, only to move his glare to Prowl. Prowl opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, unable to think of a single thing to say for once. Ratchet hmphed and stood, brushing himself off.
"Well, you're certainly back to normal." the medic grumbled, then stalked out of Prowl's office. In the wake of the medic's departure, Prowl finally recovered his ability to speak, and opened a comm line to Jazz.
"What's up, Prowl?" was Jazz's cheerful reply.
"How long has the chair been in my office, Jazz?" Prowl asked without preamble. No need to explain what chair he was talking about.
"Almost the entire week." Jazz replied, voice smug. "You didn't think I'd actually fix it or throw it out, did you?"
"...I suppose not. Though, I was rather looking forward to breaking another one." Prowl mused.
"We could still do that. Get a matching one for my office." Jazz's leer was clear in his voice, and was accompanied by lust over their bond. Prowl glanced at the datapads on his desk, piled higher now than they'd been in years, and considered. Then, without a backwards glance, he strode out of his office, heading straight for Jazz's.
- THE END -