Exhausted flower of d00m is exhausted.
Title: The Color of Touch - Green Silk (Part 6 out of 6)
Rating: R
Warnings: Overloadin' bots (no plug n play nor spark seckz as per the rules) A little bit of handcuffs and silk?
Pairings: Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Ratchet and Optimus Prime.
Prompt: For the May Challenge of the ProwlxJazz community. "Six very sexy fabrics - Silk."
Notes: Finally the smut and this turned longer than I anticipated. I apologize beforehand if this ends up looking somewhat similar to purajo's 'Still Hanging', the plot just insisted to go this way and I couldn't fight it back. This piece is G1.
Since it's still May 31 where I live, I think I've managed to complete the challenge (And if not, then frag it, I tried. xD)
Not Beta'ed so feel free to correct me.
Prowl rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly and checked his internal chronometer. 52 Earth hours had gone by since he began to work in the latest assignment given to him by Optimus Prime. Jazz going to be beyond pissed, he was sure.
Of course Jazz was aware of his duties as second in command and the importance of his work for the Autobot cause. That wasn't what was surely going to make Jazz want to kick his aft to Cybertron and back. Oh, no. Jazz could deal just fine knowing there would be days Prowl wouldn't even reach their berth because of his work, he knew that and embraced it and accepted it along with almost everything else that came with their relationship.
What Jazz did not embrace was Prowl's habit of quite literally working himself to near stasis lock for lack of refueling.
It wasn't Prowl's intention to do that, it really wasn't. But once his processors were fixed in a particularly difficult task all his power was focused into that task, time slipped by him without much notice, and until his systems began to flash warnings of dangerously low energon levels, Prowl didn't bother to refuel himself.
In the past the only wrath his carelessness could bring him was a monumental lecture from Ratchet who had the habit of admonishing him and talk him down like a sparkling, but Prowl could deal with that. However, once Jazz was added to the equation things turned a little rockier for the tactician.
He couldn't really blame either of them. He knew his habit was self destructive in the long run and he needed to maintain himself in a top condition not just for his own sake, but for the benefit of the Autobots he served with. It was just one of those things he had been doing for so long, that it was hard to break the habit.
With a heavy sigh the Datsun saved his progress and turned his terminal off, he had made a great progress with his work after all, he could work out what was left after refueling himself and getting some recharge. He just hoped Jazz would be in recharge by the time he reached their quarters.
Luck, however, wasn't on his side that day. He slipped as quietly as he could into the dark room, but the glow of a blue visor at the far end where his and Jazz's recharge berth was located informed him his mate was wide awake. He was, in Sideswipe's illustrious words 'slagged to the pit and back'.
"Jazz," He began as he crossed the distance towards his mate, he could feel the tension in the room, and he could almost see anger emanating from the Porsche's form. 'Slagged' was going to be an understatement when Jazz got through with him.
"Handcuffs." Jazz ordered in a perfectly serious tone, holding his hand out for the aforementioned item. Voice low and firm, there was no trace of the usual cheerfulness that tinted his mate's voice when he spoke.
"What?"
"Give me the handcuffs."
If he had any doubt Jazz was beyond pissed, the request was sure to vanquish it. Not in the mood to antagonize Jazz and certainly not looking forward to start an argument with him, the police cruiser opened a holster carefully hid in one of the panels flanking his hips and extracted the restrains, offering them to the angry Porsche.
Jazz took the offered cuffs and nodded his head to the berth. Prowl resisted the urge to vent a heavy sigh and did what Jazz expected him to do. He sit down on the berth and raised both arms for Jazz to handcuff him.
On cue, the saboteur clicked the handcuffs into place, activating the energon band that ensured the captive wouldn't attempt to break the restrains. "Lay down."
The Datsun did as he was told and lay back on the berth, keeping his bound hands on his lap, and watched Jazz stand up and head out of the room. Being handcuffed and ordered to lay down was usually Jazz's way to reprimand him and let him know just how upset he was at him. Submitting to the restriction and obeying his order was a way to accept his wrongs and apologize to Jazz. Not even Ratchet would get away with doing something like this without Prowl's protests. But then again, Ratchet didn't need to do something like this, one word from the medic was all that was needed to have the Datsun under medical leave with Prime's support. This was a more personal way to deal with his bad habits.
Prowl waited several minutes, he knew Jazz was deliberately delaying his return to punctuate his anger, though the saboteur never took more than fifteen minutes to return with a couple of rations of energon to resupply him.
A couple more minutes later Jazz returned with a couple of energon cubes for Prowl and set them in a small table next to their berth. "Drink that and get some recharge."
The Datsun nodded and thanked Jazz, not bothering to remove his own restrains just yet. Prowl watched Jazz head for the desk where his personal terminal was, picking a data pad probably containing some kind of recreative material and sat down to read, ignoring his mate. Prowl held one of the cubes with both hands, sipping carefully the warm energon, pondering just how he was going to make up to Jazz.
Once he had consumed both cubes the tactician removed his bonds and lay back on the berth, watching his mate for a while.
"Recharge, Prowl," Jazz didn't bother to look back at his lover. Prowl nodded and powered down his optics to initiate his recharge sequence.
-------------
The next morning Prowl onlined with a familiar body pressed gently against his own, an arm draped loosely over his middle. The Datsun powered up his optics and looked down to his shoulder where Jazz's head was pillowed, and reached gently to stroke the side of his mate's black helm softly, not wishing to disturb his rest.
Jazz mumbled something and pressed closer to his lover, apparently still deeply in recharge.
"I'm sorry," Prowl whispered softly, unsure wether Jazz could hear him or not, but needing to apologize for upsetting the Porsche.
"Ya gotta stop doin' that t'yourself, Prowl," Jazz murmured softly, still cuddled against the tactician's frame. Prowl vented a heavy sigh but nodded.
"I know, Jazz."
The Porsche nuzzled his mate's shoulder, reluctant to send him back to his work but he knew he had to. "Left ya a couple o' energon cans at the desk." the saboteur pointed lazily towards the desk where the cans of energon were, and pushed himself away from Prowl, his shift wouldn't begin for another hour or so and he intended to get as much recharge as he could before he left.
"Thank you," Prowl murmured back and placed a quick peck to his mate's lips, he stood up and headed for their private wash rack for a quick wash and some waxing before going back to his office to resume his work. On his way out he caught a glimpse of Jazz's recharging form, and his determination to make up to the saboteur renewed. Grabbing the cans left for him, Prowl made his way out of their quarters silently, with a plan already taking form in his processors.
---------
Prowl double checked the patrol schedule for that day, having finished what was left of his assignment and turning it to Optimus Prime, the tactician decided to turn his attention to his plan to compensate Jazz for putting up with his negative habit.
With four hours left for Jazz's patrol shift to end, the strategist headed for the storage area in search for a couple of things. Shuffling through the contents in one of the containers, Prowl quirked an optic ridge when a couple of rolls of green fabric, each one about as tall as his hand appeared at the bottom of the container. Upon closer inspection he identified the material as silk.
He tried to remember anything regarding a roll of green silk and how it could have ended in the storage section. Finding nothing about the fabric the Datsun was about to set it back in the container when an idea crossed his processors and a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
He set the material aside for the moment and continued his sear for the other items he required as he altered his plans to include the fabric.
Once he had everything he needed, Prowl made his way to his and Jazz's quarters and began to sort through the items, taking the time to check his internal chronometer to see how much time he had left, Prowl set himself to work.
-----------------
Jazz didn't notice it at first when he stepped into his and Prowl's quarters, but as he made his way further into the room, the saboteur stepped cold on his tracks at the sight of his mate laying down in the berth with his arms behind his head, an unusual position for him, as it could put quite the strain on his door wings.
Jazz stepped closer to his mate to find him deeply in recharge, probably still recovering from those two days of no recharge and no refueling. Jazz smiled fondly and let his fingertips brush along the tactician's cheek.
What caught his attention next was a string of green material dappled loosely like a scarf around his mate's neck. Unable to hold back his curiosity, Jazz brushed a black fingertip along the green fabric marveling at the texture and how it felt dappled over the curves and dips of his mate's neck wiring.
The twitch of a door wing alerted the saboteur his mate was onlining and Jazz moved a way a little but his finger kept tracing one of Prowl's thickest cables through the silk. "Hi there," Jazz whispered softly, bearing a little smile for his Datsun.
"Hi," Prowl murmured and smiled back for his Porsche, though he shuddered a little when Jazz's finger stroked along one of the sensitive spots on his neck.
"Nice accessory," Jazz chuckled softly and stopped his assault on Prowl's neck, moving aside a little to let the other sit up.
"Eh? Oh, that." Prowl sat up and reached to remove the piece of fabric off his neck. Jazz chuckled softly and brushed a finger again against the soft fabric.
"How did you get that 'round your neck?" he couldn't help but ask.
"I was using this to make something for you." Prowl reached for something in the small table close to the berth and handed the green object to his mate.
Jazz took the offered object and arched an optic ridge behind his visor, running his black fingers over what looked like the cover of a human style, Cybertronian sized book. The covers were lined with strings of green silk like the one that had been hanging loosely from Prowl's neck. The way the fabric was interlaced gave additional texture to the cover, and Jazz couldn't hold back the urge to run his fingertips along the whole cover, enjoying the texture.
After playing a little with the cover, the Porsche decided to open the apparent book at last and gasped in surprise when the cover revealed the book was composed of several pads bound together with specialized clasps. Jazz pressed the small key at the bottom of the first pad and the translucent display glowed to life, a music video appeared in the screen filling the room with the faint sound of the music playing. All the while the lyrics of the song began to appear, matching up the pace they were being interpreted in the video.
The first song, which Jazz allowed to run to its very end, was nothing if not an apology. Once the video was over, the display turned off again. Jazz cast a glance to his lover, smiling a little and shaking his head before he turned his attention back to the collection of pads. He flipped the first pad to access the next one, once again, Jazz pressed the key to activate the display and the video contained.
This time the video was just wilderness imagery while music played along with it. Instead of lyrics, the musical notes -Earth musical notes, appeared, matching the music just like the lyrics did with the previous song. This spoke volumes of just how much work Prowl had to put into the gift, because Jazz was certain Prowl had very little knowledge about the codification for musical notes in this planet.
The saboteur turned off the pad and set the collection carefully down in the table, moving closer to the Datsun to wrap his arms around his neck and pull him close for a kiss. "This is because of last night, ain't it?"
"Yes," Prowl nodded and sneaked a quick peck to his mate's lips. "I felt I owed you more than just an apology."
"No need for apologies, Prowler," Jazz grinned and seated himself more comfortably on the Datsun's lap. "I jus' want ya to stop doin' this t'yourself. Is it too much to set that internal chronometer of yours to remind you to refuel like a normal mech?"
Prowl quirked an optic ridge, not sure if he should be disturbed or upset because such simple solution never crossed his processors. He shook his head and couldn't help but laugh softly, "Yes, I suppose I should be doing that, shouldn't I?"
"Ya suppose?!" Jazz knocked playfully on Prowl's helm but smiled and leaned better against the tactician, just content to be in his arms. "Thank you for the gift, by the way."
Prowl nodded and stroked the side of Jazz's helm, smiling when the Porsche voiced his appreciation with a soft purr from his engine. The sound brought to his mind a little reminder of how little attention he had given to Jazz in the past few weeks, both because the past few weeks had been quite hectic and because of his two days in a row spent in his office working.
The police cruiser's optics caught a glimpse of the length of fabric that previously had been hanging from his neck, and a rather predatory smile crept to his lip components. Prowl pulled Jazz's face closer for a sound kiss while his hand reached for the piece of fabric and carefully nibbled on his mate's lower lip, "I love you, Jazz," He whispered huskily against Jazz's lips prompting a shuddering moan from the saboteur.
Then he struck as quick as lightning, and before Jazz could even begin to process what was going on, the Porsche found his arms pulled behind his back, held in place by a strong, yet gentle white hand while another wrapped something around his wrists.
"P-Prowl?" Jazz looked over his shoulder to see his lover had just tied his hands together with the length of green silk. Was Prowl going to get him back for handcuffing him last night?
"Relax, Jazz," Prowl purred softly against the saboteur's cheek. "I believe I haven't attended to you properly these past few days. And I intend to correct that."
"But do ya have t'bind me like this?" Jazz shuddered involuntarily, Prowl's voice had such effect on him whenever he talked to him... like that.
"It is necessary, beloved," Prowl confirmed and pulled Jazz to sit better on his lap, keeping a hold of the Porsche's bound wrists with one hand while the other began to run a finger along his arm. "This is for you, Jazz."
Prowl ran his lip components along the saboteur's cheek, brushing with the softest of touches along the planes of his mate's face. His free hand was now tracing that single finger down along his side stopping at his hips where Jazz's speaker panels brushed against his waist. The trailing finger brushed along the line where the waist and panel joined, adding a just a little more pressure as he did.
Jazz moaned softly and arched his back, trying to press closer to his mate as he lifted his hips a little, trying to coerce his mate to touch him more.
"Like that?" Prowl murmured so softly against the side of the saboteur's helm by his audio.
Jazz moaned and nodded lightly tilting his head to try to kiss Prowl, releasing a little groan when the tactician pulled back, denying him the caress.
"Did you say something?" Prowl asked, voice carefully modulated as his teasing touch drifted closer to the joint of the hip and the speaker panel.
Jazz found himself struggling to find his voice long enough to reply, "Yes."
"Yes?" Prowl's finger pressed more firmly along the seam of the armor plates, "Yes what, Jazz?"
Jazz groaned, quite unsure of just how Prowl could get him this worked up so quickly, not like he was going to complain about it, of course.
"Well?" Prowl pressed, trailing that finger down to the joint between Jazz's hip and leg.
"Yes, I like... it." The saboteur struggled to string the sentence together, bumping his hips against that trailing finger that did nothing but touch. A soft caress that did nothing more than ignite the sensors under the plating but hardly quenched the need for more than just a passing touch.
"What would you like me to do now, my dear Jazz?" Prowl asked seductively brushing his lip components teasingly against Jazz's, barely the ghost of a caress over those delicious lips. "Would you like me to kiss you?" he placed a tender kiss against his mate's chin pulling away before Jazz could even begin to consider to kiss him back. "Or perhaps you'd like me to play with your neck?" Prowl punctuated his offer with a soft nibble in one of the thick wires of the Porsche's neck.
Jazz arched into the touch, tilting his head to expose more of his neck for the tactician, eager for more attention but Prowl pulled away again. Jazz moaned in disappointed as his engine revved to accent his disappointment.
"Tell me, beloved," Prowl trailed his lips along Jazz's helm, the finger on the saboteur's hips was now tracing the outline of the blue panel. His other hand was now massaging the undersides of Jazz's wrists through the fabric down to his palms -Jazz's hands were very sensitive too.
"Tell me," Prowl asked again brushing his lips ever so lightly against the base of Jazz's right horn. "Tell me how I can please you, Jazz."
Jazz couldn't hold back an almost violent shudder and a soft whimper. This was torture and Prowl knew it. It wasn't often that Jazz found himself unable to form proper sentences, even during such pleasurable encounters, but being restricted as he was, all his senses were trained in the hands and lip components sending such delicious sensorial input to his CPU, it was overwhelming.
"M-My horns," Jazz managed to sputter through his static ridden vocalizer, "...Please!"
"As you wish." Prowl wasted no time to press his lip components firmly against the sensitive protrusions, placing soft kisses along its length, then nibbling softly along the edges.
Jazz let out a choked cry and shuddered again, arching to press against his mate as much as he could, losing himself to the pleasure the Datsun procured over his rapidly overheating frame.
"Headlights...!" Jazz breathed his request struggling to keep his arms immobile, not wishing to rip the fabric as he knew he would if he struggled too much. Of course it was difficult to stay still when his hands were mercilessly attacked by those deft white fingers that mapped out every millimeter of his palms.
Prowl was nothing if not quick to attend to his mate's request, and his free hand fondled and groped the Porsche's headlights dutifully.
The stimuli coming from three different parts of him being pleasured at the same time with soft and gentle affections was turning out to be too much of a good thing. Jazz's energy built up quickly, wrapping itself around Prowl as the saboteur climbed faster and faster towards his overload.
Prowl's engine was revving loudly at this point, drawing such pleasure from hearing and seeing Jazz reduced to a quivering mass of desire and need. The tactician stopped his torture over Jazz's horn and moved to nuzzle his face against the saboteur's neck wiring, nibbling here and there on random cables and wires.
"P-Prowl..." Jazz literally mewled his designation with such need and desperation, Prowl was certain the Porsche was standing at the edge of his overload.
"Yes, Jazz?" He asked softly, surprised he was able to maintain his voice firm and modulated.
It took him several attempts and a litany of incoherent vocalizations, but Jazz finally managed to voice his request, "Kiss me, please!"
"Your wish..." Prowl murmured as he trailed his lip components along Jazz's neck and up to his chin, and finally brushed against Jazz's, "...is my command, beloved." Prowl kissed Jazz with such passion that the affection alone was all the Porsche needed to reach his limit, crying out against his mate's lips as his energy flared wildly, reaching overload.
Prowl's passionate kiss never faltered, even as the saboteur's body tensed before going limp against his frame. Reluctantly, Prowl ended the kiss and allowed himself to shudder and moan softly, feeling the aftermath of Jazz's overload lingering in the air around them.
"Primus..." Jazz struggled to form coherent sentences, leaning tiredly against Prowl's frame.
"Enjoyed yourself?" Prowl asked softly as he undid the knot that kept the green silk wrapped around Jazz's wrists, helping the Porsche to move his arms back to a more comfortable position.
"Very much so," Jazz chuckled and brushed his lips tiredly along Prowl's chin. "But what 'bout ya? You haven't overloaded yet."
Prowl smiled and reached into his subspace for a cube of energon, helping Jazz to sip its contents. Once Jazz was over with the cube Prowl leaned back to rest on the berth with the Porsche's body resting half on top of his own. "This was for you. Besides, the night is still young."
Jazz grinned and cuddled closer to Prowl, trying to get comfortable as he felt the lul of recharge beginning to take over him. "Guess we can always see if I get t'return the favor."
"Perhaps," the police cruiser smiled a little and kissed the crest on top of Jazz's helm. "Recharge now."
Jazz nodded, halfway into recharge anyway. He had no idea admonishing Prowl for his careless behavior would bring this kind of reward, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about it. With a content smile, Jazz powered down his optics to rest, he was looking forward to onlining in a few hours, if Prowl's words were any indication of what would come.
Rating: R
Warnings: Overloadin' bots (no plug n play nor spark seckz as per the rules) A little bit of handcuffs and silk?
Pairings: Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Ratchet and Optimus Prime.
Prompt: For the May Challenge of the ProwlxJazz community. "Six very sexy fabrics - Silk."
Notes: Finally the smut and this turned longer than I anticipated. I apologize beforehand if this ends up looking somewhat similar to purajo's 'Still Hanging', the plot just insisted to go this way and I couldn't fight it back. This piece is G1.
Since it's still May 31 where I live, I think I've managed to complete the challenge (And if not, then frag it, I tried. xD)
Not Beta'ed so feel free to correct me.
Prowl rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly and checked his internal chronometer. 52 Earth hours had gone by since he began to work in the latest assignment given to him by Optimus Prime. Jazz going to be beyond pissed, he was sure.
Of course Jazz was aware of his duties as second in command and the importance of his work for the Autobot cause. That wasn't what was surely going to make Jazz want to kick his aft to Cybertron and back. Oh, no. Jazz could deal just fine knowing there would be days Prowl wouldn't even reach their berth because of his work, he knew that and embraced it and accepted it along with almost everything else that came with their relationship.
What Jazz did not embrace was Prowl's habit of quite literally working himself to near stasis lock for lack of refueling.
It wasn't Prowl's intention to do that, it really wasn't. But once his processors were fixed in a particularly difficult task all his power was focused into that task, time slipped by him without much notice, and until his systems began to flash warnings of dangerously low energon levels, Prowl didn't bother to refuel himself.
In the past the only wrath his carelessness could bring him was a monumental lecture from Ratchet who had the habit of admonishing him and talk him down like a sparkling, but Prowl could deal with that. However, once Jazz was added to the equation things turned a little rockier for the tactician.
He couldn't really blame either of them. He knew his habit was self destructive in the long run and he needed to maintain himself in a top condition not just for his own sake, but for the benefit of the Autobots he served with. It was just one of those things he had been doing for so long, that it was hard to break the habit.
With a heavy sigh the Datsun saved his progress and turned his terminal off, he had made a great progress with his work after all, he could work out what was left after refueling himself and getting some recharge. He just hoped Jazz would be in recharge by the time he reached their quarters.
Luck, however, wasn't on his side that day. He slipped as quietly as he could into the dark room, but the glow of a blue visor at the far end where his and Jazz's recharge berth was located informed him his mate was wide awake. He was, in Sideswipe's illustrious words 'slagged to the pit and back'.
"Jazz," He began as he crossed the distance towards his mate, he could feel the tension in the room, and he could almost see anger emanating from the Porsche's form. 'Slagged' was going to be an understatement when Jazz got through with him.
"Handcuffs." Jazz ordered in a perfectly serious tone, holding his hand out for the aforementioned item. Voice low and firm, there was no trace of the usual cheerfulness that tinted his mate's voice when he spoke.
"What?"
"Give me the handcuffs."
If he had any doubt Jazz was beyond pissed, the request was sure to vanquish it. Not in the mood to antagonize Jazz and certainly not looking forward to start an argument with him, the police cruiser opened a holster carefully hid in one of the panels flanking his hips and extracted the restrains, offering them to the angry Porsche.
Jazz took the offered cuffs and nodded his head to the berth. Prowl resisted the urge to vent a heavy sigh and did what Jazz expected him to do. He sit down on the berth and raised both arms for Jazz to handcuff him.
On cue, the saboteur clicked the handcuffs into place, activating the energon band that ensured the captive wouldn't attempt to break the restrains. "Lay down."
The Datsun did as he was told and lay back on the berth, keeping his bound hands on his lap, and watched Jazz stand up and head out of the room. Being handcuffed and ordered to lay down was usually Jazz's way to reprimand him and let him know just how upset he was at him. Submitting to the restriction and obeying his order was a way to accept his wrongs and apologize to Jazz. Not even Ratchet would get away with doing something like this without Prowl's protests. But then again, Ratchet didn't need to do something like this, one word from the medic was all that was needed to have the Datsun under medical leave with Prime's support. This was a more personal way to deal with his bad habits.
Prowl waited several minutes, he knew Jazz was deliberately delaying his return to punctuate his anger, though the saboteur never took more than fifteen minutes to return with a couple of rations of energon to resupply him.
A couple more minutes later Jazz returned with a couple of energon cubes for Prowl and set them in a small table next to their berth. "Drink that and get some recharge."
The Datsun nodded and thanked Jazz, not bothering to remove his own restrains just yet. Prowl watched Jazz head for the desk where his personal terminal was, picking a data pad probably containing some kind of recreative material and sat down to read, ignoring his mate. Prowl held one of the cubes with both hands, sipping carefully the warm energon, pondering just how he was going to make up to Jazz.
Once he had consumed both cubes the tactician removed his bonds and lay back on the berth, watching his mate for a while.
"Recharge, Prowl," Jazz didn't bother to look back at his lover. Prowl nodded and powered down his optics to initiate his recharge sequence.
-------------
The next morning Prowl onlined with a familiar body pressed gently against his own, an arm draped loosely over his middle. The Datsun powered up his optics and looked down to his shoulder where Jazz's head was pillowed, and reached gently to stroke the side of his mate's black helm softly, not wishing to disturb his rest.
Jazz mumbled something and pressed closer to his lover, apparently still deeply in recharge.
"I'm sorry," Prowl whispered softly, unsure wether Jazz could hear him or not, but needing to apologize for upsetting the Porsche.
"Ya gotta stop doin' that t'yourself, Prowl," Jazz murmured softly, still cuddled against the tactician's frame. Prowl vented a heavy sigh but nodded.
"I know, Jazz."
The Porsche nuzzled his mate's shoulder, reluctant to send him back to his work but he knew he had to. "Left ya a couple o' energon cans at the desk." the saboteur pointed lazily towards the desk where the cans of energon were, and pushed himself away from Prowl, his shift wouldn't begin for another hour or so and he intended to get as much recharge as he could before he left.
"Thank you," Prowl murmured back and placed a quick peck to his mate's lips, he stood up and headed for their private wash rack for a quick wash and some waxing before going back to his office to resume his work. On his way out he caught a glimpse of Jazz's recharging form, and his determination to make up to the saboteur renewed. Grabbing the cans left for him, Prowl made his way out of their quarters silently, with a plan already taking form in his processors.
---------
Prowl double checked the patrol schedule for that day, having finished what was left of his assignment and turning it to Optimus Prime, the tactician decided to turn his attention to his plan to compensate Jazz for putting up with his negative habit.
With four hours left for Jazz's patrol shift to end, the strategist headed for the storage area in search for a couple of things. Shuffling through the contents in one of the containers, Prowl quirked an optic ridge when a couple of rolls of green fabric, each one about as tall as his hand appeared at the bottom of the container. Upon closer inspection he identified the material as silk.
He tried to remember anything regarding a roll of green silk and how it could have ended in the storage section. Finding nothing about the fabric the Datsun was about to set it back in the container when an idea crossed his processors and a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
He set the material aside for the moment and continued his sear for the other items he required as he altered his plans to include the fabric.
Once he had everything he needed, Prowl made his way to his and Jazz's quarters and began to sort through the items, taking the time to check his internal chronometer to see how much time he had left, Prowl set himself to work.
-----------------
Jazz didn't notice it at first when he stepped into his and Prowl's quarters, but as he made his way further into the room, the saboteur stepped cold on his tracks at the sight of his mate laying down in the berth with his arms behind his head, an unusual position for him, as it could put quite the strain on his door wings.
Jazz stepped closer to his mate to find him deeply in recharge, probably still recovering from those two days of no recharge and no refueling. Jazz smiled fondly and let his fingertips brush along the tactician's cheek.
What caught his attention next was a string of green material dappled loosely like a scarf around his mate's neck. Unable to hold back his curiosity, Jazz brushed a black fingertip along the green fabric marveling at the texture and how it felt dappled over the curves and dips of his mate's neck wiring.
The twitch of a door wing alerted the saboteur his mate was onlining and Jazz moved a way a little but his finger kept tracing one of Prowl's thickest cables through the silk. "Hi there," Jazz whispered softly, bearing a little smile for his Datsun.
"Hi," Prowl murmured and smiled back for his Porsche, though he shuddered a little when Jazz's finger stroked along one of the sensitive spots on his neck.
"Nice accessory," Jazz chuckled softly and stopped his assault on Prowl's neck, moving aside a little to let the other sit up.
"Eh? Oh, that." Prowl sat up and reached to remove the piece of fabric off his neck. Jazz chuckled softly and brushed a finger again against the soft fabric.
"How did you get that 'round your neck?" he couldn't help but ask.
"I was using this to make something for you." Prowl reached for something in the small table close to the berth and handed the green object to his mate.
Jazz took the offered object and arched an optic ridge behind his visor, running his black fingers over what looked like the cover of a human style, Cybertronian sized book. The covers were lined with strings of green silk like the one that had been hanging loosely from Prowl's neck. The way the fabric was interlaced gave additional texture to the cover, and Jazz couldn't hold back the urge to run his fingertips along the whole cover, enjoying the texture.
After playing a little with the cover, the Porsche decided to open the apparent book at last and gasped in surprise when the cover revealed the book was composed of several pads bound together with specialized clasps. Jazz pressed the small key at the bottom of the first pad and the translucent display glowed to life, a music video appeared in the screen filling the room with the faint sound of the music playing. All the while the lyrics of the song began to appear, matching up the pace they were being interpreted in the video.
The first song, which Jazz allowed to run to its very end, was nothing if not an apology. Once the video was over, the display turned off again. Jazz cast a glance to his lover, smiling a little and shaking his head before he turned his attention back to the collection of pads. He flipped the first pad to access the next one, once again, Jazz pressed the key to activate the display and the video contained.
This time the video was just wilderness imagery while music played along with it. Instead of lyrics, the musical notes -Earth musical notes, appeared, matching the music just like the lyrics did with the previous song. This spoke volumes of just how much work Prowl had to put into the gift, because Jazz was certain Prowl had very little knowledge about the codification for musical notes in this planet.
The saboteur turned off the pad and set the collection carefully down in the table, moving closer to the Datsun to wrap his arms around his neck and pull him close for a kiss. "This is because of last night, ain't it?"
"Yes," Prowl nodded and sneaked a quick peck to his mate's lips. "I felt I owed you more than just an apology."
"No need for apologies, Prowler," Jazz grinned and seated himself more comfortably on the Datsun's lap. "I jus' want ya to stop doin' this t'yourself. Is it too much to set that internal chronometer of yours to remind you to refuel like a normal mech?"
Prowl quirked an optic ridge, not sure if he should be disturbed or upset because such simple solution never crossed his processors. He shook his head and couldn't help but laugh softly, "Yes, I suppose I should be doing that, shouldn't I?"
"Ya suppose?!" Jazz knocked playfully on Prowl's helm but smiled and leaned better against the tactician, just content to be in his arms. "Thank you for the gift, by the way."
Prowl nodded and stroked the side of Jazz's helm, smiling when the Porsche voiced his appreciation with a soft purr from his engine. The sound brought to his mind a little reminder of how little attention he had given to Jazz in the past few weeks, both because the past few weeks had been quite hectic and because of his two days in a row spent in his office working.
The police cruiser's optics caught a glimpse of the length of fabric that previously had been hanging from his neck, and a rather predatory smile crept to his lip components. Prowl pulled Jazz's face closer for a sound kiss while his hand reached for the piece of fabric and carefully nibbled on his mate's lower lip, "I love you, Jazz," He whispered huskily against Jazz's lips prompting a shuddering moan from the saboteur.
Then he struck as quick as lightning, and before Jazz could even begin to process what was going on, the Porsche found his arms pulled behind his back, held in place by a strong, yet gentle white hand while another wrapped something around his wrists.
"P-Prowl?" Jazz looked over his shoulder to see his lover had just tied his hands together with the length of green silk. Was Prowl going to get him back for handcuffing him last night?
"Relax, Jazz," Prowl purred softly against the saboteur's cheek. "I believe I haven't attended to you properly these past few days. And I intend to correct that."
"But do ya have t'bind me like this?" Jazz shuddered involuntarily, Prowl's voice had such effect on him whenever he talked to him... like that.
"It is necessary, beloved," Prowl confirmed and pulled Jazz to sit better on his lap, keeping a hold of the Porsche's bound wrists with one hand while the other began to run a finger along his arm. "This is for you, Jazz."
Prowl ran his lip components along the saboteur's cheek, brushing with the softest of touches along the planes of his mate's face. His free hand was now tracing that single finger down along his side stopping at his hips where Jazz's speaker panels brushed against his waist. The trailing finger brushed along the line where the waist and panel joined, adding a just a little more pressure as he did.
Jazz moaned softly and arched his back, trying to press closer to his mate as he lifted his hips a little, trying to coerce his mate to touch him more.
"Like that?" Prowl murmured so softly against the side of the saboteur's helm by his audio.
Jazz moaned and nodded lightly tilting his head to try to kiss Prowl, releasing a little groan when the tactician pulled back, denying him the caress.
"Did you say something?" Prowl asked, voice carefully modulated as his teasing touch drifted closer to the joint of the hip and the speaker panel.
Jazz found himself struggling to find his voice long enough to reply, "Yes."
"Yes?" Prowl's finger pressed more firmly along the seam of the armor plates, "Yes what, Jazz?"
Jazz groaned, quite unsure of just how Prowl could get him this worked up so quickly, not like he was going to complain about it, of course.
"Well?" Prowl pressed, trailing that finger down to the joint between Jazz's hip and leg.
"Yes, I like... it." The saboteur struggled to string the sentence together, bumping his hips against that trailing finger that did nothing but touch. A soft caress that did nothing more than ignite the sensors under the plating but hardly quenched the need for more than just a passing touch.
"What would you like me to do now, my dear Jazz?" Prowl asked seductively brushing his lip components teasingly against Jazz's, barely the ghost of a caress over those delicious lips. "Would you like me to kiss you?" he placed a tender kiss against his mate's chin pulling away before Jazz could even begin to consider to kiss him back. "Or perhaps you'd like me to play with your neck?" Prowl punctuated his offer with a soft nibble in one of the thick wires of the Porsche's neck.
Jazz arched into the touch, tilting his head to expose more of his neck for the tactician, eager for more attention but Prowl pulled away again. Jazz moaned in disappointed as his engine revved to accent his disappointment.
"Tell me, beloved," Prowl trailed his lips along Jazz's helm, the finger on the saboteur's hips was now tracing the outline of the blue panel. His other hand was now massaging the undersides of Jazz's wrists through the fabric down to his palms -Jazz's hands were very sensitive too.
"Tell me," Prowl asked again brushing his lips ever so lightly against the base of Jazz's right horn. "Tell me how I can please you, Jazz."
Jazz couldn't hold back an almost violent shudder and a soft whimper. This was torture and Prowl knew it. It wasn't often that Jazz found himself unable to form proper sentences, even during such pleasurable encounters, but being restricted as he was, all his senses were trained in the hands and lip components sending such delicious sensorial input to his CPU, it was overwhelming.
"M-My horns," Jazz managed to sputter through his static ridden vocalizer, "...Please!"
"As you wish." Prowl wasted no time to press his lip components firmly against the sensitive protrusions, placing soft kisses along its length, then nibbling softly along the edges.
Jazz let out a choked cry and shuddered again, arching to press against his mate as much as he could, losing himself to the pleasure the Datsun procured over his rapidly overheating frame.
"Headlights...!" Jazz breathed his request struggling to keep his arms immobile, not wishing to rip the fabric as he knew he would if he struggled too much. Of course it was difficult to stay still when his hands were mercilessly attacked by those deft white fingers that mapped out every millimeter of his palms.
Prowl was nothing if not quick to attend to his mate's request, and his free hand fondled and groped the Porsche's headlights dutifully.
The stimuli coming from three different parts of him being pleasured at the same time with soft and gentle affections was turning out to be too much of a good thing. Jazz's energy built up quickly, wrapping itself around Prowl as the saboteur climbed faster and faster towards his overload.
Prowl's engine was revving loudly at this point, drawing such pleasure from hearing and seeing Jazz reduced to a quivering mass of desire and need. The tactician stopped his torture over Jazz's horn and moved to nuzzle his face against the saboteur's neck wiring, nibbling here and there on random cables and wires.
"P-Prowl..." Jazz literally mewled his designation with such need and desperation, Prowl was certain the Porsche was standing at the edge of his overload.
"Yes, Jazz?" He asked softly, surprised he was able to maintain his voice firm and modulated.
It took him several attempts and a litany of incoherent vocalizations, but Jazz finally managed to voice his request, "Kiss me, please!"
"Your wish..." Prowl murmured as he trailed his lip components along Jazz's neck and up to his chin, and finally brushed against Jazz's, "...is my command, beloved." Prowl kissed Jazz with such passion that the affection alone was all the Porsche needed to reach his limit, crying out against his mate's lips as his energy flared wildly, reaching overload.
Prowl's passionate kiss never faltered, even as the saboteur's body tensed before going limp against his frame. Reluctantly, Prowl ended the kiss and allowed himself to shudder and moan softly, feeling the aftermath of Jazz's overload lingering in the air around them.
"Primus..." Jazz struggled to form coherent sentences, leaning tiredly against Prowl's frame.
"Enjoyed yourself?" Prowl asked softly as he undid the knot that kept the green silk wrapped around Jazz's wrists, helping the Porsche to move his arms back to a more comfortable position.
"Very much so," Jazz chuckled and brushed his lips tiredly along Prowl's chin. "But what 'bout ya? You haven't overloaded yet."
Prowl smiled and reached into his subspace for a cube of energon, helping Jazz to sip its contents. Once Jazz was over with the cube Prowl leaned back to rest on the berth with the Porsche's body resting half on top of his own. "This was for you. Besides, the night is still young."
Jazz grinned and cuddled closer to Prowl, trying to get comfortable as he felt the lul of recharge beginning to take over him. "Guess we can always see if I get t'return the favor."
"Perhaps," the police cruiser smiled a little and kissed the crest on top of Jazz's helm. "Recharge now."
Jazz nodded, halfway into recharge anyway. He had no idea admonishing Prowl for his careless behavior would bring this kind of reward, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about it. With a content smile, Jazz powered down his optics to rest, he was looking forward to onlining in a few hours, if Prowl's words were any indication of what would come.