[Fic] G1: Types of Love: Love of the Spark
Title: Types of Love: Love of a Fool[4/4]
Author: BitterEloquence
Summary: There are many types of love, some fulfilling, some bittersweet but all are essential in this crazy thing we call living. Because without love, what would be the point?
Rating: PG-13 (For Violence)
Pairings: ProwlxJazz, one-sided BluestreakxProwl
Word Count: 1,145
Warnings: Enough fluff to make your dentist run in terror.
Notes: Thanks to my tireless beta stormsailor for taking time out of her busy schedule to beta this monster. Everyone send her some love because without her, this fic would suck.
Additional Notes: This was written for the April challenge on prowlxjazz
Disclaimer: Not mine, nor am I making any money off of it. The only thing I own are the twisted ideas floating around in my head.
Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.
-- Lao Tzu
Cycles later, long after a much-relieved Bluestreak had left Prowl's quarters, Jazz slunk in, staring at his lover frowning at the datapad he was reading over. "Shut the door behind you," Prowl murmured without looking up.
Jazz smirked as he shut and locked the door. "So, did things go well between you an' Bluestreak? Did ya break his poor little spark?" The saboteur was only half joking and he settled himself down on Prowl's desk next to the tactician. Despite his teasing words, there was a note of protectiveness in Jazz's voice. It was hard not to feel protective of Bluestreak. The timid gunner seemed to evoke those kinds of instincts in everyone. Even the Twins had been known to gruffly look out after his aft on more than one occasion.
"I tried not to. But I lack your grace with words, I'm afraid." Prowl set the datapad aside and swiveled in his chair slightly to face Jazz. There was a somber expression in his optics that made Jazz's spark ache just a bit.
Fighting to find a way to erase the shadows from Prowl's optics, Jazz smiled impishly. "That's okay. Though I can't believe you told him I was the jealous type."
There was a stunned silence before Prowl's optics narrowed dangerously. "You really did bug my office, didn't you!?" Jazz almost got a hit in the head with an errant chevron as Prowl jerked up abruptly. "Did you?"
Jazz laughed and smirked at the annoyed looking tactician. "No, but the look on your face was priceless." The sabotuer's grin was infectious. "That, and I know you and how your twisted little mind works."
"Hrmph." But some of the self-recrimination had left Prowl's optics and he cycled air raggedly through his vents. "Thanks," he finally admitted with a weak smile. "I needed that, I swear I feel all wrung out emotionally. See, this is why emotional protocols are a liability in a military tactician." Prowl tried to make it a joke but the self-deprecating humor fell flat.
"Aw, Prowler." Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl's shoulders and pulled him forward until the tactician laid his head atop his thigh. The saboteur had enough experience reading Prowl's body language to know when something was genuinely upsetting his lover. And right now, Prowl's door-wings all but shivered with repressed emotion so Jazz gently soothed the metal plate protecting the joints.
Like a wire uncoiling, the tension slowly began to drain from Prowl and he wrapped his arms around Jazz's waist as he lay there with his cheek pressed against the cool metal of his lover's thigh. "I tried not to hurt him but I still did."
"You had ta s'pect a certain amount o' pain, Prowl. It's never easy when ya get tol' ya can't have something ya want. But considerin' I saw Bluestreak down in the lounge talking to the Twins I'm assumin' ya managed ta let 'im down gently enough?"
Prowl just grimaced and tightened his hold on Jazz's waist. The visored mech ended up half-bent over Prowl as he cradled the tactician in his arms. It was a surprisingly vulnerable position and Jazz treasured the realization that this was a side of Prowl only he was allowed to see. "Ya amaze me, Prowler. And jus' when I think you can't surprise me more, ya turn around and do somethin' that just makes me love you even more."
With those tenderly whispered words, the last vestiges of tension bled out of Prowl. "Do you mind if I just lay here for a while?" he asked in a pitiful tone of voice.
"Naw, take as much time as ya need, Prowler. I ain't goin' anywhere." He stroked a gentle hand across the top of Prowl's helm and smiled softly. "You jus' rest, I'll be here when you online." To reinforce his suggestion, Jazz continued to alternate between caressing the smooth line of Prowl's helm and the sensitive metal between his doorwings. Slowly, Prowl's air circulation evened out and his optics dimmed before finally going offline. Once Jazz was certain his lover was in recharge, he looked around and calculated how long it would take him to remove all the spy cameras he'd set up in Prowl's office. The tactician could be as paranoid and thorough as Red Alert when he chose to be.
Jazz didn't feel particularly guilty for lying to his lover. He knew that Prowl would understand that were certain aspects of Jazz's job that went even above his head. Just as Jazz understood that his lover did not fully share everything with him. And Prowl did not need to know that between Jazz and Red Alert, they had 99% of the base wired and monitored, including the crew quarters. Of course, the neurotic security chief knew better then to watch the footage that took place in either Jazz's or Prowl's quarters unless the saboteur brought something to his attention.
In return, Jazz didn't go snooping in either Red Alert or Inferno's quarters. Or the storage closet on sub-level 3. All in all, it was an equitable trade.
He'd seen the confrontation that took place between Prowl and Bluestreak, had even seen his lover pull the younger mech in for a hasty kiss. Jazz had thought he would have felt jealous or even outraged, but as he reviewed the footage, the saboteur had been surprised to realize it hadn't bothered him.
That had bothered him for a moment. But then he'd stopped and thought about it. Even if they didn’t have the extra insight a bond would bring, Jazz still knew Prowl and how Prowl’s processors worked. The tactician had no doubt decided a swift object lesson was less painful then a long, drawn-out explanation. And from the looks of things, it had worked too.
“Jealous type, huh?” Jazz muttered with fond affection. He stroked dark fingers down Prowl’s helmet one last time. “I’ll have to get you for that one later, Prowler.”
The tactician was deep in recharge and didn’t even stir. Jazz knew how tired his lover had been lately. Even after recovering from his injuries, the second in command hadn’t been able to properly recharge. His guilt and uncertainty in dealing with Bluestreak had weighed heavily on his processors.
Jazz just shook his head and smiled softly as Prowl’s door-wings twitched reflexively even when he was in recharge. For half an astro-click, Jazz was tempted to play with those graceful appendages but he resisted the urge and settled for wrapping his arms more securely around Prowl.
The low, steady purr of his lover’s engine was enough to lull Jazz into his own light recharge and the saboteur’s optic visor slowly dimmed as he too followed Prowl into a resting state.
Author: BitterEloquence
Summary: There are many types of love, some fulfilling, some bittersweet but all are essential in this crazy thing we call living. Because without love, what would be the point?
Rating: PG-13 (For Violence)
Pairings: ProwlxJazz, one-sided BluestreakxProwl
Word Count: 1,145
Warnings: Enough fluff to make your dentist run in terror.
Notes: Thanks to my tireless beta stormsailor for taking time out of her busy schedule to beta this monster. Everyone send her some love because without her, this fic would suck.
Additional Notes: This was written for the April challenge on prowlxjazz
Disclaimer: Not mine, nor am I making any money off of it. The only thing I own are the twisted ideas floating around in my head.
Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.
-- Lao Tzu
Cycles later, long after a much-relieved Bluestreak had left Prowl's quarters, Jazz slunk in, staring at his lover frowning at the datapad he was reading over. "Shut the door behind you," Prowl murmured without looking up.
Jazz smirked as he shut and locked the door. "So, did things go well between you an' Bluestreak? Did ya break his poor little spark?" The saboteur was only half joking and he settled himself down on Prowl's desk next to the tactician. Despite his teasing words, there was a note of protectiveness in Jazz's voice. It was hard not to feel protective of Bluestreak. The timid gunner seemed to evoke those kinds of instincts in everyone. Even the Twins had been known to gruffly look out after his aft on more than one occasion.
"I tried not to. But I lack your grace with words, I'm afraid." Prowl set the datapad aside and swiveled in his chair slightly to face Jazz. There was a somber expression in his optics that made Jazz's spark ache just a bit.
Fighting to find a way to erase the shadows from Prowl's optics, Jazz smiled impishly. "That's okay. Though I can't believe you told him I was the jealous type."
There was a stunned silence before Prowl's optics narrowed dangerously. "You really did bug my office, didn't you!?" Jazz almost got a hit in the head with an errant chevron as Prowl jerked up abruptly. "Did you?"
Jazz laughed and smirked at the annoyed looking tactician. "No, but the look on your face was priceless." The sabotuer's grin was infectious. "That, and I know you and how your twisted little mind works."
"Hrmph." But some of the self-recrimination had left Prowl's optics and he cycled air raggedly through his vents. "Thanks," he finally admitted with a weak smile. "I needed that, I swear I feel all wrung out emotionally. See, this is why emotional protocols are a liability in a military tactician." Prowl tried to make it a joke but the self-deprecating humor fell flat.
"Aw, Prowler." Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl's shoulders and pulled him forward until the tactician laid his head atop his thigh. The saboteur had enough experience reading Prowl's body language to know when something was genuinely upsetting his lover. And right now, Prowl's door-wings all but shivered with repressed emotion so Jazz gently soothed the metal plate protecting the joints.
Like a wire uncoiling, the tension slowly began to drain from Prowl and he wrapped his arms around Jazz's waist as he lay there with his cheek pressed against the cool metal of his lover's thigh. "I tried not to hurt him but I still did."
"You had ta s'pect a certain amount o' pain, Prowl. It's never easy when ya get tol' ya can't have something ya want. But considerin' I saw Bluestreak down in the lounge talking to the Twins I'm assumin' ya managed ta let 'im down gently enough?"
Prowl just grimaced and tightened his hold on Jazz's waist. The visored mech ended up half-bent over Prowl as he cradled the tactician in his arms. It was a surprisingly vulnerable position and Jazz treasured the realization that this was a side of Prowl only he was allowed to see. "Ya amaze me, Prowler. And jus' when I think you can't surprise me more, ya turn around and do somethin' that just makes me love you even more."
With those tenderly whispered words, the last vestiges of tension bled out of Prowl. "Do you mind if I just lay here for a while?" he asked in a pitiful tone of voice.
"Naw, take as much time as ya need, Prowler. I ain't goin' anywhere." He stroked a gentle hand across the top of Prowl's helm and smiled softly. "You jus' rest, I'll be here when you online." To reinforce his suggestion, Jazz continued to alternate between caressing the smooth line of Prowl's helm and the sensitive metal between his doorwings. Slowly, Prowl's air circulation evened out and his optics dimmed before finally going offline. Once Jazz was certain his lover was in recharge, he looked around and calculated how long it would take him to remove all the spy cameras he'd set up in Prowl's office. The tactician could be as paranoid and thorough as Red Alert when he chose to be.
Jazz didn't feel particularly guilty for lying to his lover. He knew that Prowl would understand that were certain aspects of Jazz's job that went even above his head. Just as Jazz understood that his lover did not fully share everything with him. And Prowl did not need to know that between Jazz and Red Alert, they had 99% of the base wired and monitored, including the crew quarters. Of course, the neurotic security chief knew better then to watch the footage that took place in either Jazz's or Prowl's quarters unless the saboteur brought something to his attention.
In return, Jazz didn't go snooping in either Red Alert or Inferno's quarters. Or the storage closet on sub-level 3. All in all, it was an equitable trade.
He'd seen the confrontation that took place between Prowl and Bluestreak, had even seen his lover pull the younger mech in for a hasty kiss. Jazz had thought he would have felt jealous or even outraged, but as he reviewed the footage, the saboteur had been surprised to realize it hadn't bothered him.
That had bothered him for a moment. But then he'd stopped and thought about it. Even if they didn’t have the extra insight a bond would bring, Jazz still knew Prowl and how Prowl’s processors worked. The tactician had no doubt decided a swift object lesson was less painful then a long, drawn-out explanation. And from the looks of things, it had worked too.
“Jealous type, huh?” Jazz muttered with fond affection. He stroked dark fingers down Prowl’s helmet one last time. “I’ll have to get you for that one later, Prowler.”
The tactician was deep in recharge and didn’t even stir. Jazz knew how tired his lover had been lately. Even after recovering from his injuries, the second in command hadn’t been able to properly recharge. His guilt and uncertainty in dealing with Bluestreak had weighed heavily on his processors.
Jazz just shook his head and smiled softly as Prowl’s door-wings twitched reflexively even when he was in recharge. For half an astro-click, Jazz was tempted to play with those graceful appendages but he resisted the urge and settled for wrapping his arms more securely around Prowl.
The low, steady purr of his lover’s engine was enough to lull Jazz into his own light recharge and the saboteur’s optic visor slowly dimmed as he too followed Prowl into a resting state.