Challenge Day 26 (Sorry, work's been eating me alive XP)
Title: It's More than a Feeling - Always (26/30)
Day: Sept 26
Prompt: "Regrets"
Verse: G1
Rating: PG-13
Words: 924
Other Characters: Mention of Rodimus Prime and Optimus Prime.
Warnings: Might need tissues.
Summary: It had been 5 years and he kept coming back to fulfill his penance.
Notes: For the Sexy September challenge @ prowlxjazz. Happy Anniversary to all in the pxj community, here's to many more to come. This piece is not beta read so feel free to correct me. Inspired by purajo.
The streets were littered with the steam of a hot night just caressed by a gentle, cooling rain. People moved around, minding no one but themselves, immersed in their own lives and problems. No one paid any mind to the out of place racing Porsche that drove slowly through the streets. The sounds of life going on in this young planet managed to give a sense of calm to the force driving the vehicle, the spark that had grown lonely over the years.
Old tunes from the eighties flowed through high quality alien speakers from an mp3 player installed in the otherwise old model. By now Jazz’s model could be considered a classic if it wasn’t because he was modeled after a racing circuit car. He never saw need or reason to want to update to the newest models he could take after, rather enjoying the nostalgic feel of being an ‘outdated model’, at least in the outside.
It was August 8th and Jazz was alone I the streets, driving off to a site he rather wished he would never see again, but that he forced himself to every year for the past five years. It was an anniversary of sorts though far from a happy one especially for Jazz. Five years ago the mech he was certain was the love of his life was taken away from him along with so many of his friends. A couple managed the feat of coming back from the depths of the Matrix, others were not so lucky and now even their bodies were no more.
Jazz deeply regretted never telling the mech he felt so strongly for of his feelings and regretted even more that said mech died without having an inkling of an idea that Jazz loved him. That hurt more than it had any right to but Jazz accepted it as his own penance, to think of the ‘what ifs’ and wonder what could have happened if only he had dared to tell this mech how much he meant to him. Jazz was a friendly mech, easy going and with plenty of friends, his own attractiveness and charming personality made him someone that drew people’s attention to himself and he admittedly enjoyed that. What he didn’t much enjoy was the reputation that earned him, as many mechs believed someone like him was probably well versed in the matters of the spark and matters of the berth.
Said reputation seemed to make him more approachable for some mechs and less so for others. Prowl was one of the few that, at least at first, seemed to keep a distance from him, even though Jazz wished it had been Prowl who approached him rather than those that did. Jazz himself wasn’t sure why he never told Prowl of his feelings for him, a part of him thought it inappropriate, another screamed they could wait until the war was over, and a third just told him to be thankful Prowl became his friend and not tempt his luck any further. Now Jazz wished he had never listened to any of those reasons, but it was too late.
He drove past the outskirts of the city, to the place where a shuttle had crashed five years ago with all its occupants already offline. Their mausoleum no longer existed, but the humans made a small monument there to commemorate the Autobots that lost their lives fighting off the Decepticons. Up until then they had not suffered losses amongst the Ark crew, but in that event they lost the majority of the team that had become so familiar with the humans of the planet.
Jazz was one of the few that survived that onslaught although he had also been in close quarters with the unmaker, very close quarters at that. He fought to stay alive, determined that when he returned to Earth, he would tell Prowl what he felt, only to find out he had outlived him.
Jazz pulled to a stop by the monument and stood up, watching the mechs that had been his friends immortalized in bronze for the generations to come. Jazz sat and watched the monument for a while, still playing those old eighties tunes, an old song in particular began to play and Jazz felt his spark ache even more, because it spoke of everything he’d wanted and craved with Prowl, and that he could no longer have.
Jazz admitted to himself that he felt lonely, even with all the survivors of the Ark’s crew, and even Optimus’ return, he still felt alone. He couldn’t feel enough of a connection with the younger mechs that had come to be part of the chain of command under Rodimus, and although he liked them all and respected and supported Hot Rod during his tenure as Prime, for the first time he felt the generational gap since he began serving under him.
More than ever, Jazz felt alone and like he didn’t quite fit. He missed Prowl and mourned his waste of a chance he was sure would never repeat itself, even if Jazz wished so badly he could turn back time or another miracle could grant Prowl back to him.
Jazz curled against the monument, listening to that song that at one time made him sing with joy but that now stabbed his spark with the loss of what would never be. But oh how he wished, how he wished him and Prowl could have forever. How he wished for his own miracle, his own happy ending.
Day: Sept 26
Prompt: "Regrets"
Verse: G1
Rating: PG-13
Words: 924
Other Characters: Mention of Rodimus Prime and Optimus Prime.
Warnings: Might need tissues.
Summary: It had been 5 years and he kept coming back to fulfill his penance.
Notes: For the Sexy September challenge @ prowlxjazz. Happy Anniversary to all in the pxj community, here's to many more to come. This piece is not beta read so feel free to correct me. Inspired by purajo.
The streets were littered with the steam of a hot night just caressed by a gentle, cooling rain. People moved around, minding no one but themselves, immersed in their own lives and problems. No one paid any mind to the out of place racing Porsche that drove slowly through the streets. The sounds of life going on in this young planet managed to give a sense of calm to the force driving the vehicle, the spark that had grown lonely over the years.
Old tunes from the eighties flowed through high quality alien speakers from an mp3 player installed in the otherwise old model. By now Jazz’s model could be considered a classic if it wasn’t because he was modeled after a racing circuit car. He never saw need or reason to want to update to the newest models he could take after, rather enjoying the nostalgic feel of being an ‘outdated model’, at least in the outside.
It was August 8th and Jazz was alone I the streets, driving off to a site he rather wished he would never see again, but that he forced himself to every year for the past five years. It was an anniversary of sorts though far from a happy one especially for Jazz. Five years ago the mech he was certain was the love of his life was taken away from him along with so many of his friends. A couple managed the feat of coming back from the depths of the Matrix, others were not so lucky and now even their bodies were no more.
Jazz deeply regretted never telling the mech he felt so strongly for of his feelings and regretted even more that said mech died without having an inkling of an idea that Jazz loved him. That hurt more than it had any right to but Jazz accepted it as his own penance, to think of the ‘what ifs’ and wonder what could have happened if only he had dared to tell this mech how much he meant to him. Jazz was a friendly mech, easy going and with plenty of friends, his own attractiveness and charming personality made him someone that drew people’s attention to himself and he admittedly enjoyed that. What he didn’t much enjoy was the reputation that earned him, as many mechs believed someone like him was probably well versed in the matters of the spark and matters of the berth.
Said reputation seemed to make him more approachable for some mechs and less so for others. Prowl was one of the few that, at least at first, seemed to keep a distance from him, even though Jazz wished it had been Prowl who approached him rather than those that did. Jazz himself wasn’t sure why he never told Prowl of his feelings for him, a part of him thought it inappropriate, another screamed they could wait until the war was over, and a third just told him to be thankful Prowl became his friend and not tempt his luck any further. Now Jazz wished he had never listened to any of those reasons, but it was too late.
He drove past the outskirts of the city, to the place where a shuttle had crashed five years ago with all its occupants already offline. Their mausoleum no longer existed, but the humans made a small monument there to commemorate the Autobots that lost their lives fighting off the Decepticons. Up until then they had not suffered losses amongst the Ark crew, but in that event they lost the majority of the team that had become so familiar with the humans of the planet.
Jazz was one of the few that survived that onslaught although he had also been in close quarters with the unmaker, very close quarters at that. He fought to stay alive, determined that when he returned to Earth, he would tell Prowl what he felt, only to find out he had outlived him.
Jazz pulled to a stop by the monument and stood up, watching the mechs that had been his friends immortalized in bronze for the generations to come. Jazz sat and watched the monument for a while, still playing those old eighties tunes, an old song in particular began to play and Jazz felt his spark ache even more, because it spoke of everything he’d wanted and craved with Prowl, and that he could no longer have.
Jazz admitted to himself that he felt lonely, even with all the survivors of the Ark’s crew, and even Optimus’ return, he still felt alone. He couldn’t feel enough of a connection with the younger mechs that had come to be part of the chain of command under Rodimus, and although he liked them all and respected and supported Hot Rod during his tenure as Prime, for the first time he felt the generational gap since he began serving under him.
More than ever, Jazz felt alone and like he didn’t quite fit. He missed Prowl and mourned his waste of a chance he was sure would never repeat itself, even if Jazz wished so badly he could turn back time or another miracle could grant Prowl back to him.
Jazz curled against the monument, listening to that song that at one time made him sing with joy but that now stabbed his spark with the loss of what would never be. But oh how he wished, how he wished him and Prowl could have forever. How he wished for his own miracle, his own happy ending.