Anniversary bingo challenge
Prompts: First Kiss Undercover
Summary: Prowl and Jazz have their first kiss in a rather unexpected way.
Note: all my fics are crossposted from my AO3.
Context: Prewar!Jazz used to be a little skeptical of factions. He met Prowl at Maccadam's, and they got on pretty well. Prowl managed to talk Jazz into helping the Autobots, so Jazz became an unofficial informat for them, feeding Prowl information he gleaned from Iacon's underbelly. They've had regular meetings at different bars/pubs since.
"Prowl, you suck."
"Shut up."
Prowl turned heads as they walked down the dank streets of Iacon's red-light district. As the only bot in the vicinity- well, apart from Jazz- who seemed to take pride in his appearance, his clean, eye-catching white and black paintjob along with his red chevron and Autobot insignias made him stick out like a sore thumb.
"Act normal."
"I'm trying. What are we doing here, anyway?"
"We're running out of new places to go to."
"Autobot HQ," Prowl muttered.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Jazz flashed his teeth at Prowl.
The sun had just gone down, and the city had yet to cool, resulting in slightly muggy weather. Pleasure bots lined the streets under flickering lights and neon signs, beckoning at potential customers. A bot was retching in the corner. Another stared at them as they passed. Jazz hacked loudly and spat on the street, and the mech directed his attention elsewhere. Prowl tried not to look aghast.
Jazz suddenly turned a corner and ducked into a doorway which had a spluttering sign reading 'The Hand and Crystals' dangling off the top of it.
The pub was bathed in dim light from the sparse, naked bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The furniture was mostly rusting over with the exception of the tabletops and stool-tops, which gleamed in the low light. A television in the corner broadcasted a gladiatorial match. The murmur of conversation that filled the low-ceilinged room would mask their conversation from any eavesdroppers.
Jazz sauntered up to the bar and grabbed two bottles of engex for them, then plopped down at a circular booth where he could survey the entire, surprisingly large space. Prowl slid onto the seat next to him.
Jazz took a swig from his bottle, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he set it down. He caught Prowl staring at him, bottle in hand, a slightly appalled look on his face.
"Is that what people do here?" Prowl hissed. Jazz just grinned.
"You might wanna reconsider your current career path." Jazz leaned back in his seat, taking another swig of his drink.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Covert operations clearly isn't your strong suit," he muttered as he took another swig, glaring at one of the patrons who was staring at them for a little too long. "Next time, you might wanna ditch your decals. But it's not like you're going to listen to me, so."
Prowl pursed his lips, a statement about the redundancy of doing so if Jazz would just agree to go to Autobot HQ on the tip of his tongue, but he refrained from saying anything, opting to take a sip from his bottle instead. He caught Jazz watching him.
Jazz tipped his head. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Do you like it?"
Prowl licked his lips, noting that the label on the bottle didn't match its contents.
"What is this?" He gave it a sniff.
"House brew," Jazz replied.
Prowl arched an optic ridge. "Legal?"
"Absolutely," Jazz smirked.
Prowl made a face. "I really should-"
"Don't you dare," Jazz pouted at Prowl. "Besides, it's good. Admit it."
Prowl rolled his optics and Jazz knew he had won.
Suddenly, the doors slammed open, and the two of them jumped. Rather anti-climatically, two genericons strode in, one catching his back kibble on the low doorway on the way in. They were armed, but they seemed to just want to look around and not aggravate any civilians.
"Slag- I told you to ditch your decals!"
Jazz turned to Prowl. "Kiss me."
Prowl stared at Jazz, bewildered.
"PDAs make bots real uncomfortable."
Prowl nodded at Jazz, but it was clear that he had no idea what Jazz was getting at, so Jazz grabbed his face and kissed him soundly.
Prowl's vents stuttered to a halt. Jazz was kissing him. His lips were soft. Oh Primus, Jazz was kissing him. Prowl felt himself melt a little bit.
Damn, Jazz was good. His movements were slow and careful. At the velvety slide of Jazz's lips over his, Prowl let his optics drift shut. Suddenly, Jazz ran his tongue along the closed seam of Prowl's mouth, and Prowl made a surprised noise and grabbed Jazz's waist. Jazz tongue was immediately delving into Prowl's mouth.
Oh...
Prowl felt like he was being consumed. Without breaking the kiss, Jazz clambered up onto Prowl's lap, and Prowl couldn't help but make a small noise at the back of his throat as his head was tipped back. Jazz slid his hands down Prowl's doorwings, letting them come to a strategic rest over his law enforcement officer decals- not that Prowl noticed. His sensory net zinged, and he enthusiastically kissed Jazz back. Jazz weight, the feel of his thighs around his waist, Jazz's hands on his doorwings, Jazz's tongue skilfully teasing his- Prowl felt light headed. Maybe it was because he had forgotten to keep his vents going.
The sound of slow footsteps approached as the cons sauntered over. They walked past Prowl and Jazz to go deeper into the bar, averting their gaze as soon as they noiced the pair enthusiastically making out in the corner. As soon as they were out of sight, Jazz leapt off Prowl's lap.
"Let's go." He took Prowl's hand in his and practically dragged Prowl up and out of the booth. Prowl stumbled behind him, disoriented from being yanked out of bliss so abruptly. His processor scrambled to get him to move. Right foot, left foot, right foot- ow doorwing-
As soon as they made it out the door, Jazz transformed and Prowl hastily followed suit. With a screech of tyres, Jazz shot off, and Prowl gunned his engine, fishtailed a bit while he struggled to gain purchase on the filthy ground, then hurried after Jazz.
As they neared the fringes of downtown Iacon, Jazz slowed and transformed, doing a little spin as he stood up. Prowl transformed as well, and stood where he was for a bit. He touched his lower lip, still feeling dazed. He suddenly noticed that Jazz walking a few paces ahead, and jogged up to keep up with him.
"Jazz!"
"Mmhm?"
"You're really good at-" Prowl stopped mid-sentence as Jazz came to an abrupt halt. Jazz looked at Prowl.
"Good at?"
"Acting," Prowl blurted out.
Jazz gave him an odd look.
"I wasn't acting," he said, then he turned around and continued walking. Prowl stared after him for a couple of beats, mouth agape, then ran after him.
Points if you know where I got the inspiration for this fic from. Actually, no- points deducted if you don't.
Summary: Prowl and Jazz have their first kiss in a rather unexpected way.
Note: all my fics are crossposted from my AO3.
Context: Prewar!Jazz used to be a little skeptical of factions. He met Prowl at Maccadam's, and they got on pretty well. Prowl managed to talk Jazz into helping the Autobots, so Jazz became an unofficial informat for them, feeding Prowl information he gleaned from Iacon's underbelly. They've had regular meetings at different bars/pubs since.
"Prowl, you suck."
"Shut up."
Prowl turned heads as they walked down the dank streets of Iacon's red-light district. As the only bot in the vicinity- well, apart from Jazz- who seemed to take pride in his appearance, his clean, eye-catching white and black paintjob along with his red chevron and Autobot insignias made him stick out like a sore thumb.
"Act normal."
"I'm trying. What are we doing here, anyway?"
"We're running out of new places to go to."
"Autobot HQ," Prowl muttered.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Jazz flashed his teeth at Prowl.
The sun had just gone down, and the city had yet to cool, resulting in slightly muggy weather. Pleasure bots lined the streets under flickering lights and neon signs, beckoning at potential customers. A bot was retching in the corner. Another stared at them as they passed. Jazz hacked loudly and spat on the street, and the mech directed his attention elsewhere. Prowl tried not to look aghast.
Jazz suddenly turned a corner and ducked into a doorway which had a spluttering sign reading 'The Hand and Crystals' dangling off the top of it.
The pub was bathed in dim light from the sparse, naked bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The furniture was mostly rusting over with the exception of the tabletops and stool-tops, which gleamed in the low light. A television in the corner broadcasted a gladiatorial match. The murmur of conversation that filled the low-ceilinged room would mask their conversation from any eavesdroppers.
Jazz sauntered up to the bar and grabbed two bottles of engex for them, then plopped down at a circular booth where he could survey the entire, surprisingly large space. Prowl slid onto the seat next to him.
Jazz took a swig from his bottle, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he set it down. He caught Prowl staring at him, bottle in hand, a slightly appalled look on his face.
"Is that what people do here?" Prowl hissed. Jazz just grinned.
"You might wanna reconsider your current career path." Jazz leaned back in his seat, taking another swig of his drink.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Covert operations clearly isn't your strong suit," he muttered as he took another swig, glaring at one of the patrons who was staring at them for a little too long. "Next time, you might wanna ditch your decals. But it's not like you're going to listen to me, so."
Prowl pursed his lips, a statement about the redundancy of doing so if Jazz would just agree to go to Autobot HQ on the tip of his tongue, but he refrained from saying anything, opting to take a sip from his bottle instead. He caught Jazz watching him.
Jazz tipped his head. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Do you like it?"
Prowl licked his lips, noting that the label on the bottle didn't match its contents.
"What is this?" He gave it a sniff.
"House brew," Jazz replied.
Prowl arched an optic ridge. "Legal?"
"Absolutely," Jazz smirked.
Prowl made a face. "I really should-"
"Don't you dare," Jazz pouted at Prowl. "Besides, it's good. Admit it."
Prowl rolled his optics and Jazz knew he had won.
Suddenly, the doors slammed open, and the two of them jumped. Rather anti-climatically, two genericons strode in, one catching his back kibble on the low doorway on the way in. They were armed, but they seemed to just want to look around and not aggravate any civilians.
"Slag- I told you to ditch your decals!"
Jazz turned to Prowl. "Kiss me."
Prowl stared at Jazz, bewildered.
"PDAs make bots real uncomfortable."
Prowl nodded at Jazz, but it was clear that he had no idea what Jazz was getting at, so Jazz grabbed his face and kissed him soundly.
Prowl's vents stuttered to a halt. Jazz was kissing him. His lips were soft. Oh Primus, Jazz was kissing him. Prowl felt himself melt a little bit.
Damn, Jazz was good. His movements were slow and careful. At the velvety slide of Jazz's lips over his, Prowl let his optics drift shut. Suddenly, Jazz ran his tongue along the closed seam of Prowl's mouth, and Prowl made a surprised noise and grabbed Jazz's waist. Jazz tongue was immediately delving into Prowl's mouth.
Oh...
Prowl felt like he was being consumed. Without breaking the kiss, Jazz clambered up onto Prowl's lap, and Prowl couldn't help but make a small noise at the back of his throat as his head was tipped back. Jazz slid his hands down Prowl's doorwings, letting them come to a strategic rest over his law enforcement officer decals- not that Prowl noticed. His sensory net zinged, and he enthusiastically kissed Jazz back. Jazz weight, the feel of his thighs around his waist, Jazz's hands on his doorwings, Jazz's tongue skilfully teasing his- Prowl felt light headed. Maybe it was because he had forgotten to keep his vents going.
The sound of slow footsteps approached as the cons sauntered over. They walked past Prowl and Jazz to go deeper into the bar, averting their gaze as soon as they noiced the pair enthusiastically making out in the corner. As soon as they were out of sight, Jazz leapt off Prowl's lap.
"Let's go." He took Prowl's hand in his and practically dragged Prowl up and out of the booth. Prowl stumbled behind him, disoriented from being yanked out of bliss so abruptly. His processor scrambled to get him to move. Right foot, left foot, right foot- ow doorwing-
As soon as they made it out the door, Jazz transformed and Prowl hastily followed suit. With a screech of tyres, Jazz shot off, and Prowl gunned his engine, fishtailed a bit while he struggled to gain purchase on the filthy ground, then hurried after Jazz.
As they neared the fringes of downtown Iacon, Jazz slowed and transformed, doing a little spin as he stood up. Prowl transformed as well, and stood where he was for a bit. He touched his lower lip, still feeling dazed. He suddenly noticed that Jazz walking a few paces ahead, and jogged up to keep up with him.
"Jazz!"
"Mmhm?"
"You're really good at-" Prowl stopped mid-sentence as Jazz came to an abrupt halt. Jazz looked at Prowl.
"Good at?"
"Acting," Prowl blurted out.
Jazz gave him an odd look.
"I wasn't acting," he said, then he turned around and continued walking. Prowl stared after him for a couple of beats, mouth agape, then ran after him.
Points if you know where I got the inspiration for this fic from. Actually, no- points deducted if you don't.