Reposting of Endless Waltz for easy findings 07

Nov 20, 2007 03:36

Title: An Endless Waltz
Chapter: 07
Pairings: Eventual ProwlxJazz
Rating: R to NC-17
Summary: Before the war broke out in Cybertron, life wasn't much different to what it's like on earth. And growing up in Cybertron's golden age has it's ups and downs.

Thanks to okami_myrrhibis and nkfloofiepoof for their beta reading and advice.



Chapter 07

Ironhide worked diligently cleaning his guns carefully, side glancing every now and then to what the rest of the Autobots did. He had grown aware of a tension between Prowl and Jazz. Prowl avoiding Jazz as much as he could, and Jazz had been skipping meetings.

Few had noticed the fake happiness in Jazz's smile, or Prowl's even deeper reclusion, but only he had connected the dots. Ironhide knew them better than the two were comfortable admitting, having trained both during their Academy days and even further when both joined the Autobots. Something was going on between those two and he was determined to give them a push in the proper direction.

"Hey, Jazz." Ironhide greeted while he kept cleaning his gun.

"'Sup 'Hide?" the Porsche waved to the red van, smiling as he hummed to a tune he had just heard in his player.

"Not much. Was wondering if anyone else noticed Prowl's gone even more reclusive than a spider." Ironhide faked a glance to inspect the shine of his gun.

Jazz stiffened. "Dunno. I didn't really catch on it, 'Hide."

"You kids complicate your lives too much." The van chuckled softly, walking to Jazz and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Lovers' quarrel?" he asked above a whisper.

"W-What?"

Ironhide wished they had a camera on board. Jazz's expression was priceless. "Come on, I've been in this universe longer than you, kid. I saw plenty of you two back in Cybertron and the War Academy. I've been wondering how long was going to take you to make the move."

Jazz sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping a bit. "I did. And I just fraggin' screwed it, 'Hide. Prowl wants nothin' ta do with me."

"That's not like you, Jazz." Ironhide nodded, patting the younger mech's shoulder comfortingly, "Prowl's got a tough shell. If you crack it, he'll freak out of course. If it has to do with emotion, he scares easily. "

"I didn't mean ta scare him." The third in command sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck.

"He's not scared of you, kiddo. That much I can tell you." Ironhide patted Jazz's back once more, giving him a gentle push. "Don't let things stay the way they are now, or you're going to wither yourself, and you're gonna take him down with you."

Jazz watched Ironhide return to his gun cleaning, wondering if the older mech had been spying on them or if he was just that good at reading them. The Porsche decided he didn't want to find out and headed for Prowl's quarters, determined to follow the red van's advice.

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"Prowl?" Jazz peeked his head into Prowl's quarters, looking around for the Police Cruiser.

"Did you need anything?" the Datsun looked up from his book, motioning for Jazz to come inside.

"Yeah. Ya an' I need ta talk." the visored Autobot put his hands to his hips, looking more genuinely energized than he had in days.

"If this is about what happened the other day, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to react the way I did." Prowl apologized, closing his book and setting it aside. "I'm just not comfortable about intimacy. Blame Rumble for that."

Jazz allowed himself to chuckle softly. "Rumble can do that to ya." He shook his head lightly before he looked back to the slightly taller mech. "Ya're not really afraid of intimacy, are ya? You're afraid of what ya can give away through it." Prowl's silence was all the answer he needed. "Look, I'm sorry 'bout what I did. I hadn't planned things ta go like that. Didn't want ta try ta intrude in your mind like that. It just happened."

Both knew interfacing wasn't just an act of pleasure. It was a process of giving and receiving, even if in little amounts, information from each party. Soundwave had called them the 'three levels' of interfacing. The 'basic level' could be likened to what humans would call 'sex for pleasure'. Even this act left windows open for each party to feel and read each other, even if in small amounts. Jazz knew if he pushed, Prowl's inner turmoil would let something, anything, leak through his self imposed barriers during the act. Even more when Jazz had been seeking it.

Prowl nodded, moving up towards Jazz. "I know."

"I guess I just got carried away. Ya already saw it, so there's no point for me ta lie 'bout it. I'm attracted ta ya." The Porsche rubbed his cheek lightly.

"You made that point pretty clear." Prowl chuckled softly, remembering the way Jazz had him pinned to that chair. "Jazz, it's not that I don't share the sentiment. But I'm afraid of what you can find in me and afraid of what you would think of it. You're right, Jazz. I'm as broken as everyone else in this ship. I have secrets that are hard for me to share with anyone."

"Why are ya afraid? Ya're not a monster or 'nything like that. I betcha I've done worse things in my time than you could." The saboteur gave a sheepish smile to the slightly taller mech, "I don't wanna push ya to talk to me 'bout it if ya're not ready but... Ya know I'm here if ya ever wanna share it."

Jazz couldn't help himself. Again, he reached to stroke Prowl's cheek gently, trying to keep his touch as non-invasive as he could. Neither spoke for what felt like hours.

"Have you taken the life of someone dear with your own hands, Jazz?" Prowl asked softly, his optics dimmed, feeling a strange comfort in Jazz's touch.

"No. I haven't." The Porsche felt a pang of anxiety grow inside of him about Prowl's words. "Is that what ya're so 'fraid ta share?"

The tactician nodded. "You know my parents were among the very first casualties when the War started. But you never knew how it happened."

"Wanna tell me 'bout it?" the slightly shorter mech asked softly, his gentle fingers continued to stroke and caress the tactician's cheek, feeling the plating of his cheeks grow warmer.

"My father had been designated to some patrolling around the outskirts of Iacon. It was pretty routine for him but that day things went horribly wrong." The Datsun offlined his optics, enjoying the caress.

"A group of Decepticons were starting a fight over some debt with a small gang operating in Iacon. He tried to arrest them but was heavily outnumbered. The Decepticons beat him up, and ripped his spark out of its chamber. They blew it up into nothingness." Jazz frowned lightly and moved closer to the tactician, wrapping his arm around his waist in a comforting manner.

"When my mother heard the news she lost all reason and the Decepticons gladly took her in while in that state of insanity." Prowl let out a heavy sigh, braving himself to go through his tale. "One day I was called to aid on the arrest of a massive Decepticon that was causing serious damage in the city..."

"You mean..." Jazz trailed. Prowl nodded slowly.

"She had disposed of many officers already. It was her or the civilians she was endangering." The second in command onlined his optics, he didn't know when they had begun to leak fluid. "I killed my own mother, Jazz."

The Porsche said nothing for a while, brushing away the leaked fluid from Prowl's face. He couldn't begin to imagine the guilt that had been plaguing his friend for millennia. Jazz was certain he wouldn't have been able to do it, if he had been in his situation.

"I'm sorry." Jazz whispered softly, cupping Prowl's face in his hands, gently pulling it down towards his own. The Datsun made no attempt to resist and wrapped his arms around Jazz's form as they kissed.

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Jazz didn't remember in what moment the gentle kiss grew to something more passionate and intense. Jazz had never gone past the manipulation of energy fields and tactile stimulation for interfacing. Good old styled 'basic level', just pleasure with a bit of insight about the other party's mind added there to spice the mix. No compromises and no promises beyond a possible 'let's do it again' the next morning.

But once he found himself in the floor of Prowl's quarters, pinned under his weight, the saboteur had raised the bar, and willingly opened the compartment of his spark for Prowl. Offering his mind and soul for the one he had loved since he was capable to understand the nature of the feeling. Offering his own secrets, his own feelings, fears and desires. Soundwave had called it the 'intermediate level', an act of trust and genuine affection. Of love.

Prowl had reciprocated the gesture, tearing down all his barriers and masks. Allowed Jazz to witness the fateful events that replayed day after day in his mind. To feel his anguish, guilt and pain. His fear for rejection, were his secret discovered. The fear of losing all those he cared for. To be truly alone.

Jazz could barely remember the moment when their sparks had returned to each other. After the powerful experience of wandering into each other's mind and very essence, they fell into recharge mode, tangled in each other.

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prowlxjazz, jazz, endless waltz, ironhide, prowl, fan fiction

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