Challenge, Day 15
Name: eerian_sadow
Title: Alive
Universe: G1 AU
Rating: T
Warnings: implied past character death (not relevant to current fic), robot smoochies
Notes: this scene is set against the larger backdrop of a universe where "The Simulator" was created to give Cybertronians an escape from the toils of daily life under one of their organic slavers and has persisted into the modern age as a way to stave off boredom while recharging and defragmenting.
Jazz hadn't meant to spend a quarter of his recharge cycle with Prowl's little brother, but when Bluestreak had caught him alone in the cafe, there hadn't been a graceful way out--at least not until he convinced the younger mech to walk with him to the dance hall Prowl had asked him to come to. He truly liked the young mech so far, but he also knew that Prowl would be beside himself this late into the night, and he desperately hoped the black and white Praxian wouldn't be mad at him.
Bluestreak stopped in front of a building with an ornately carved archway and gave him a rueful smile. "Here we are. Sorry, I kept you. One of these days I'll manage to chatter at people less and let them get on with their nights."
"Nah, it was nice. You're good company, and I bet you're a great bot to have at a party." Jazz gave him a bright smile. "You go do something fun. Maybe make up a scandalous story to tell your other brothers about what Prowl and I are doing tonight."
"They'd never believe it." Some of the grey mech's earlier enthusiasm returned and he laughed. "Prowl wouldn't get involved in a scandal if it started in his berthroom."
The musician laughed. "Mech, if I'm not a scandal, what is?"
Bluestreak laughed with him. "You're right! Have a good night, Jazz. I'll keep the other two distracted."
"Night, Blue." Jazz watched the younger mech walk away for a few seconds before turning to the door and knocking as instructed.
Several moments later, the door swung open and a large, imposing mech stared down at him. "You Jazz?"
"That's me," the musician replied.
"Come on in. Prowl's waiting at the table in front of the stage." The bouncer took a step back and gestured the smaller mech inside.
"Thanks, mech." He stepped through the door and into the dimly-lit dance hall.
It was filled with other mechs and femmes, all simulations given what Bluestreak had told him about this being a private sim, dancing or sitting at tables and enjoying cubes of high grade. On the stage the bouncer had mentioned, a pair of tiny pink and teal femmes were crooning a love ballad. And in between the crowd and the stage, he could see Prowl's head turning left and right, clearly looking for him.
Jazz smiled and started weaving through the crowd. After that long conversation with Prowl's little brother, he didn't want to keep his favorite Praxian waiting any longer. The singers smiled as they spotted him moving toward the stage--Jazz felt a pang as he realized they were recordicon models, not too different from Blaster's twins--and Prowl turned to follow their gazes toward him.
"I was afraid you weren't coming," the Praxian confessed when Jazz pulled out a chair and sat down. "I know that a private sim was presumptuous of me."
"Nah, it wasn't that. I got waylaid by your little brother right after I got your note."
"Oh, Primus." Prowl looked stricken.
"Bluestreak, not either of the others." The musician grinned and signaled a passing waiter to bring him a drink. "He's a good kid. Chattery, but nice."
"He didn't give you too much trouble, did he?" The Praxian's expression shifted, from stricken to resigned.
"Not a bit. Says he'll run interference to keep Smokescreen and Silverstreak from bothering us tonight, even." Jazz reached out and laid a hand on top on one of Prowl's. "So we should just enjoy this nice little night you programmed up and forget about your brothers."
"Time is limited, after all," Prowl agreed. "What time do you have to be back online for work?"
"I don't want to think about work tonight." The singers shifted into a lively pop tune and Jazz felt himself sway involuntarily to the beat. "You programmed a dancing sim, so let's dance."
"All right." Prowl let the musician pull him to his feet as Jazz stood and stepped away from the table.
"More like this one, girls," the shorter mech instructed the singers as they moved into a clear space on the floor. The teal femme gave him a thumbs-up and Jazz spun his partner into a fast-paced dance without asking Prowl if he even knew the steps.
The Praxian found it exhilarating. His spark sang as he moved with the other mech, and his currently under-utilized tactical upgrades came online in an attempt to predict the musician's next move. It should have been frustrating, as the shorter mech was clearly improvising as they went but instead it was a pleasant challenge that he wanted more of. He felt more alive as he moved to the music with Jazz than he had in vorns.
He felt more alive with Jazz than he had in vorns.
They moved flawlessly from one song to the next, in a dance the felt endless until the last notes of the singers' final songs drifted away and the dance hall's lights came up. Prowl realized with a start that they were alone in the room except for the staff and the singers--they had danced through the entire night until morning, and the simulation had run its pre-programmed course.
"I gotta go, mech," Jazz said softly, clearly disappointed.
"Meet me back here tonight?" Prowl asked.
"Tonight, and tomorrow, and the night after," the sorter mech agreed. "I'll see you soon."
"Not soon enough." The praxian cycled his vents. Then, he bent down and pressed his lips against Jazz's, knowing he was being presumptuous again but unwilling to let the chance pass him by.
Jazz sighed softly and tilted his head, allowing Prowl to deepen the kiss for a moment before pulling away. "I really gotta go, love. I'll see you tonight."
The taller mech felt a pang of disappointment, though he had known the other mech had to leave him for the day. It was chased away a moment later by elation as he realized the endearment Jazz had directed toward him. "Tonight, love."
Title: Alive
Universe: G1 AU
Rating: T
Warnings: implied past character death (not relevant to current fic), robot smoochies
Notes: this scene is set against the larger backdrop of a universe where "The Simulator" was created to give Cybertronians an escape from the toils of daily life under one of their organic slavers and has persisted into the modern age as a way to stave off boredom while recharging and defragmenting.
Jazz hadn't meant to spend a quarter of his recharge cycle with Prowl's little brother, but when Bluestreak had caught him alone in the cafe, there hadn't been a graceful way out--at least not until he convinced the younger mech to walk with him to the dance hall Prowl had asked him to come to. He truly liked the young mech so far, but he also knew that Prowl would be beside himself this late into the night, and he desperately hoped the black and white Praxian wouldn't be mad at him.
Bluestreak stopped in front of a building with an ornately carved archway and gave him a rueful smile. "Here we are. Sorry, I kept you. One of these days I'll manage to chatter at people less and let them get on with their nights."
"Nah, it was nice. You're good company, and I bet you're a great bot to have at a party." Jazz gave him a bright smile. "You go do something fun. Maybe make up a scandalous story to tell your other brothers about what Prowl and I are doing tonight."
"They'd never believe it." Some of the grey mech's earlier enthusiasm returned and he laughed. "Prowl wouldn't get involved in a scandal if it started in his berthroom."
The musician laughed. "Mech, if I'm not a scandal, what is?"
Bluestreak laughed with him. "You're right! Have a good night, Jazz. I'll keep the other two distracted."
"Night, Blue." Jazz watched the younger mech walk away for a few seconds before turning to the door and knocking as instructed.
Several moments later, the door swung open and a large, imposing mech stared down at him. "You Jazz?"
"That's me," the musician replied.
"Come on in. Prowl's waiting at the table in front of the stage." The bouncer took a step back and gestured the smaller mech inside.
"Thanks, mech." He stepped through the door and into the dimly-lit dance hall.
It was filled with other mechs and femmes, all simulations given what Bluestreak had told him about this being a private sim, dancing or sitting at tables and enjoying cubes of high grade. On the stage the bouncer had mentioned, a pair of tiny pink and teal femmes were crooning a love ballad. And in between the crowd and the stage, he could see Prowl's head turning left and right, clearly looking for him.
Jazz smiled and started weaving through the crowd. After that long conversation with Prowl's little brother, he didn't want to keep his favorite Praxian waiting any longer. The singers smiled as they spotted him moving toward the stage--Jazz felt a pang as he realized they were recordicon models, not too different from Blaster's twins--and Prowl turned to follow their gazes toward him.
"I was afraid you weren't coming," the Praxian confessed when Jazz pulled out a chair and sat down. "I know that a private sim was presumptuous of me."
"Nah, it wasn't that. I got waylaid by your little brother right after I got your note."
"Oh, Primus." Prowl looked stricken.
"Bluestreak, not either of the others." The musician grinned and signaled a passing waiter to bring him a drink. "He's a good kid. Chattery, but nice."
"He didn't give you too much trouble, did he?" The Praxian's expression shifted, from stricken to resigned.
"Not a bit. Says he'll run interference to keep Smokescreen and Silverstreak from bothering us tonight, even." Jazz reached out and laid a hand on top on one of Prowl's. "So we should just enjoy this nice little night you programmed up and forget about your brothers."
"Time is limited, after all," Prowl agreed. "What time do you have to be back online for work?"
"I don't want to think about work tonight." The singers shifted into a lively pop tune and Jazz felt himself sway involuntarily to the beat. "You programmed a dancing sim, so let's dance."
"All right." Prowl let the musician pull him to his feet as Jazz stood and stepped away from the table.
"More like this one, girls," the shorter mech instructed the singers as they moved into a clear space on the floor. The teal femme gave him a thumbs-up and Jazz spun his partner into a fast-paced dance without asking Prowl if he even knew the steps.
The Praxian found it exhilarating. His spark sang as he moved with the other mech, and his currently under-utilized tactical upgrades came online in an attempt to predict the musician's next move. It should have been frustrating, as the shorter mech was clearly improvising as they went but instead it was a pleasant challenge that he wanted more of. He felt more alive as he moved to the music with Jazz than he had in vorns.
He felt more alive with Jazz than he had in vorns.
They moved flawlessly from one song to the next, in a dance the felt endless until the last notes of the singers' final songs drifted away and the dance hall's lights came up. Prowl realized with a start that they were alone in the room except for the staff and the singers--they had danced through the entire night until morning, and the simulation had run its pre-programmed course.
"I gotta go, mech," Jazz said softly, clearly disappointed.
"Meet me back here tonight?" Prowl asked.
"Tonight, and tomorrow, and the night after," the sorter mech agreed. "I'll see you soon."
"Not soon enough." The praxian cycled his vents. Then, he bent down and pressed his lips against Jazz's, knowing he was being presumptuous again but unwilling to let the chance pass him by.
Jazz sighed softly and tilted his head, allowing Prowl to deepen the kiss for a moment before pulling away. "I really gotta go, love. I'll see you tonight."
The taller mech felt a pang of disappointment, though he had known the other mech had to leave him for the day. It was chased away a moment later by elation as he realized the endearment Jazz had directed toward him. "Tonight, love."