Into The Dark: Part 1 of Chapter 2
Title: Into the Dark
Fandom: Transformers
Continuity: G1
Pairing/s: Jazz x Prowl, Bluestreak x Prowl (a tiny bit)
Rating: NC - 17
Summary: Prowl travels to the Dark Parts in Kaon in search of his split spark twin that was taken from their home when he was barely an orn old. However Bluestreak, not knowing the entire truth of his heritage is frightened and Prowl is left in a dangerous area of Cybertron. Not all things will go well...
Chapter Summary: In the dead of the night, Prowl finds himself in his office depressed about one of his plans' failures. Bluestreak comes to comfort him; they are however interrupted by an unexpected mech showing up with an unexpected request...
Warnings: Mech/Mech sex, sticky sex, mentions of sparkbonds, Carriers & Sires, smut, explicit explanation of sticky smut, twincest, tactile overloads and incest.
N/B: Finally, it's finished! Took me days before I could get everything in order and I answered some of the questions but not all. This is now officially turned into a Multi-chap fic and I am happy about that. I have never written a fic that had chapter's this long but I enjoy it. It keeps my mind sharp and drives my will to deliver that much faster.
There will be a very sexy moment between Bluestreak and Prowl in the beginning and I hope you guys like it. I will be turning this into a threesome sometime along the way but not right now. For now thought, that's all I can think of. Oh and there will be a bit more about Prowl's family this time and I hope you like the last scene between Ratch and Sunny.
Chapter Notes:
Nanoklik - 1 second
Klik - 1 minute
Breem - 8 minutes
Joor - 1 Hour
Cycle 18 Hours
Orn - Day
Metacycle - 6 years
Vorn - 83 years
"..." Talking
"..." Comm. line
Thoughts or Emphasis on a word
~...~ Medical Hardline
::Sweetspark:: Spark Bond/Creation-Creator Union
----------------------------------
Part I
Prowl wiped at his optics tiredly, an exhausted yawn spilled from his intakes and a bit of uncertainty rippled across his sensors. His optics were burning from the amount of data he had just taken into his processor with too much concentration, or so he told himself. This had nothing to do with the shattered report on the floor. Carrier had after all always warned him that his intense scrutiny of datapads would one day cost him the deterioration of his optics. Yet, the tactician was too afraid to tell Ratchet about it. He'd get a stern lecture and his audial receivers were far too sensitive right now to endure such a lecture as was his spark. He cringed at that train of thought; the inevitable memory hanging over his shoulder plates heavily. One of his plans had gotten twenty good mech killed ― that alone left his spark winging in its casing. Twenty losses to fifty Decepticons and fifteen Neutrals but still, why so many? He had planned so carefully before submitting it to the higher officers. He hadn't even been expecting for it to be accepted. Now his failure sat heavily on his shoulder plates.
A low whine left his vocalizer as he stared at the remains of the report, the pieces of the shattered datapad decorated his floor in a glitter of unidentifiable memory crystal. In a show of uncharacteristic clumsiness Prowl had dropped the datapad in shock with enough force for it to shatter upon impact to the floor. The moment he had read the report he felt his entire world crumple around him; he couldn't even bring himself to pick up the pieces of his own failure. Couldn't bring himself to even look at it in detail.
There it was; the need to distance himself and punish himself for the pain he had caused. The undeniable guilt that warred with his logic. His logic had a good standing that it was war, sacrifices had to be made but Prowl's emotional core was fighting stubbornly and decided that even though sacrifices had to be made it didn't have to be him to carry that sentinel into the future. He wasn't Unicron's advocate...He was supposed to protect those he sent into battle ― which he had clearly failed this time...
The pain of knowing his own failure had caused so much death and destruction was enough to make his intakes hitch as fear slammed into his processor ― what if he did this again but this time when he felt tired and then drew up battle plans? No matter how much Prowl wanted comfort from his family, half of them had been stationed away at a new base where the Prime was supposed to be kept safe. A fortified warship with the best soldiers and officers; Prowl hadn't been satisfied. He had been restless enough for several joors now, checking and rechecking the defences over and over just to make sure they would be safe. The young tactician wouldn't be taking any more chances, especially if it was his loved ones. Prowl didn't think he could bring himself to live if his family was sacrificed because of his mistakes. Having a Medic for a Carrier often had the advantage of knowledge in offlining oneself with either immense pain or painless spark extinguishing. Even that small amount of reassurance did not make Prowl's self doubt fade. He could still make a mistake and lose his family as a consequence.
A subtle ache was spreading behind his optics and ravaging his now overly tired processor; a familiar sting of deep emotional turmoil. Prowl gave a quiet but undetectable moan of sorrow, a shudder spreading through his internals in semblance of the pain. He sank back into his chair with pure exhaustion; his processor reminding his spark that they were at the height of war. It did absolutely nothing to ease Prowl's uneasiness. In fact it only made it worse. He should have been able to do more, should have worked with more variables and contingency plans...
Prowl sagged onto his desk, doorwings drooping very low on his back struts and a painful sigh left his hitching intakes. Better to not let others see his emotional state, his age and experience was still very much in question. Resting his chevron on a series of complex calculation datapads Prowl did not care that their screens were being scratched. The Praxian winced visibly however at the influx of another oncoming processor ache. He didn't move when his office doors swished open, didn't even lift his helm or cycle open his optics. He did not feel threatened by the presence, in fact it was a soothing presence across his wild emotions. Even when Prowl became acutely aware of a familiar presence circling his desk to stand behind his chair; his stoic facade faded completely. His tightly controlled emotions slipped as the first of coolant tears gathered in his optics. Yet the tactician stubbornly refused to let them fall...
"Prowl? You've been working too hard again. Carrier sent me a comm. to come fetch you for some recharge. Ratchet threatened to remodel you into the first sentient medical scanner so that he can keep a close optic on you. I ,for one, would hate to see you like that. You won't do well as a scanner ― too finicky." Prowl's hollow chuckle interrupted his twin's stream of words and when their bond flared with concern Prowl didn't slam it shut like he usually did. He didn't protest either when tender assuring servos rested against his tense shoulder plates. The fluttering touches were enough to drag Prowl's processor off of his scrambled thoughts, his doorwings moving contentedly at the comforting caress.
"Prowl? What's wrong? You're not usually this quiet. You would have told me by now to shut up or would have chased me out of your office, something's not right. I mean the bond is usually quiet but now it's like you're in constant pain. Please talk to me Prowl." Prowl didn't protest when Bluestreak's strong servos suddenly pulled him bodily from his comfortable chair; his datapads scattering when they were pushed back aside to make space on the surface. His doorwings fluttering behind him when he was forced to sit on the edge of the desk with strong assured servos, soft pliable fingertips grazed his faceplates and Prowl jolted from his dazed staring ― Bluestreak's concern was like shining beacon of light for Prowl's over taxed emotions. Light blue optics locked with his older twin's since he had entered the room for the first time; this time his emotions were relied in a simple glance before the tactician turned his helm to the side to avoid seeing the expression forming on his brother's faceplates.
"Oh Prowl! Why didn't you tell me? I don't like it when you get so quiet. It's like when you miss Jazz...You never talk but I feel your pain; just as I know you feel pain like the rest of us. You have one the softest sparks that I know of, you don't need to act as if you never feel anything. Prowl; please talk to me. If not me then Carrier ― he needs to know and maybe Sir―."
"Bluestreak, please... Not now." Prowl pleaded. His twin fell silent and Prowl relaxed a bit, wiggling so that he was more comfortable on the surface of his desk. This time when Bluestreak's servos trailed across his chassis and offered him a different kind of comfort Prowl did not object; he needed this. Just for a moment to forget what had been brooding in his emotional core. Bluestreak was always gentle and the skittering fingers were always a soothing caress that offered an escape that Prowl could not deny. His doorwings arched back in search of some stimulation when fingers pressed against his chassis; one servo resting protectively over his spark. Prowl's spark in return gave a little leap of joy before it settled to a more subdued pulse. The relaxed rhythm of Bluestreak's touches and their sparks synchronizing to his strokes had Prowl mewling for more.
The young Praxian noble did not care that his office door was open, all he wanted was the reassurance that Bluestreak wasn't rejecting him like the first time they met. What he needed was reassurance that their twin bond was as strong as it was ever going to be and trusting Bluestreak like this gave Prowl the relief he needed of utterly losing himself. Bluestreak's intentions were a reassurance to his taxed spark and it was calming Prowl when their bond was now flooded with calm, loving emotions. The disjointed feeling he had experienced before was soon fading the longer Bluestreak teased his sensitive spots. Prowl leant forward, needing more than crystal petal light touches and promises of comfort.
"Tell me what you need Prowl." Bluestreak implored gently and Prowl moaned softly when stray fingers reached past his helm to trace quivering doorwings. That alone caused a shudder t work its way through his systems and began spreading heat through his circuits pleasantly. Forgetting his sudden bout of emotional influx Prowl relaxed even more, an indication of how much he had come to trust his twin over the vorns.
Prowl knew that it wasn't uncommon for twins to seek interface stimulation from each other; Pit even Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had cornered him a few times to build up their sibling relationship. Prowl allowed it and even enjoyed it as to him it brought him and his siblings closer together so when Bluestreak's touches became suggestive like this Prowl willing gave in; almost desperate for a touch of certainty that he was not as alone as he felt sometimes.
Although Prowl never moved further than spark merges, EM clashes and tactile interfacing. The young tactician only ever saved himself fully for Jazz, except that one drunken cycle with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe ― his processors buzzed pleasantly with pleasure at the mere thought of it. He could remember it vividly and still sometimes sought those heights of pleasure but his own servos pleasuring his valve just wasn't always enough. His discipline protocols soon always overrode those desires; the silent promise he had made with himself that night many vorns ago of only ever offering himself to Jazz was still high in his priority programming. There were so many conflictions, so many different emotions now rushing through his systems that Prowl whined when his Battle Computer started protesting at the input. His spark straining against his spark chamber did not help either.
Offering himself to Bluestreak and giving in to the next best thing of expressing their intimate bond and love ― Prowl pushed his twin back slightly and got up from where he was sitting on the desk. Giving a sultry smirk and a wink at his twin over his shoulder plates, the tactician turned around and leaned back over the desk. This time hoping that Bluestreak wouldn't pry too far into his emotional core and status. Doorwings flared in a blatant invitation before settling to a seductive flutter. A low purr escaped Prowl's engine when a teasing, experimental touch flitted across the sensor enriched panels. A caress of love and understanding spread listlessly through their bond as well as a stroke of arousal when Bluestreak took his time. The next swipe of sure servos and an arousing brush of an EM field had Prowl arching into the touch; optics shuttering of their own accord. Bluestreak was usually either controlled or completely wild; either way had Prowl always wanting more. The intimacy this created with his brother had him reeling from pleasure orns afterwards. He never understood just why he was so sensitive when none of his three brothers seemed to be like him; well maybe Sideswipe was more like him than he liked to admit...
''S beautiful Prowl. Ah wan' ya all te m'self...' Prowl whined, the imaginary purr across his audial in a whisper of a memory flux built a quick charge skittering across his armour plating. The sensitivity of the sensor nodes lighting across his doorwing panels had Prowl wanting and writhing for more. The mere thought of Jazz was enough to heat his systems more than anything. Prowl, mindful of hurting Bluestreak, pressed back into his servos for more of those tender touches. The feeling of a strong chassis colliding with his door hinges made Prowl cry out ― his vocalizer spitting static when his processor gave in to the sensations with pure abandonment of his previous line of thought. Laying his cheek plates on the cool metal desk, Prowl sought some relief from the sensations ― his servos curled around the end of the desk as he sought some stable purchase. It was a way to ground himself for a klik before the pleasure truly took over but not matter how fierce his grip became and how hard he rubbed his cheek plates against the desk surface, it wasn't working in stalling the rapid build of a charge.
"B-Bluestreak!" Prowl howled in pleasure when soft pliable lip plates replaced his twin's servos and then proceeded to drag across his left doorwing, the most sensitive sensor nodes screaming with pleasure before a swipe of a glossa left Prowl's processor reeling with bliss. He had forgotten how good a doorwing overload could feel, forgotten the sensitivity that his frame offered. The feeling of clever fingers pinching the top of his one doorwing whilst Bluestreak pulled the tip of his other doorwing into a hot mouth made Prowl shudder in unadulterated pleasure. His EM field expanded tentatively at fist and when it clashed against Bluestreak's own, Prowl allowed it to become more uncontrolled in hopes of offering to share his ultimate pleasure with his twin. Prowl stiffened in hopes of keeping the heated charge a little longer now before he felt the desperate need to let go. Usually the longer a charge lingered across sensitive plating the more intense the pleasure was to be when he finally released it.
The exhaustion of his body built steadily as he stretched the kliks of keeping the charge from dispersing across his circuits; it was a display of his control but also his need to feel something more intense. Prowl's HUD was now screaming with warnings of overheating components and interfacing protocols that wanted to be onlined but for the moment Prowl did well in ignoring them. Just concentrating on the sensations that Bluestreak managed to alight across his sensitive doorwing panels.
"So beautiful Prowl. It's been a while since I've seen you like this, let go brother Prowl. I won't judge you I promise. Let go." Bluestreak barely managed the words before Prowl's heated plating pressed harder into his touch. Prowl's internals pressed for a heavier charge and for more pleasure so the younger twin arched back gracefully just as his systems started to lock up.
Blue light arced towards every swipe of Bluestreak's gentle servos and a following teasing glossa across doorwings left Prowl nearly screaming in utter bliss. Bluestreak hummed in approval, moving a free servo to press against Prowl's heated interface panel but he did not ask for it to be opened, he just scratched at the plating to heighten his brother's tactile sensations.
Accepting Bluestreak's words Prowl truly did let go in that moment. His shame and control slipping away like Energon through trembling fingers; there was nothing left to hold on to and Prowl snapped. Back struts arching; doorwings quivering at his imminent release and when Bluestreak finally detected the deliberate stall in his brother's pleasure, he pinched Prowl's chevron to add a bit of pain ― knowing exactly what Prowl needed for pure abandonment.
"My beloved brother Prowl."
The heavy and quick charge shot through Prowl's systems; overwhelming his processors and interfacing arrays. Lubricant pooled against his interface panel in a sign of wanting more than just tactile touch. Optics snapped open at the charge of pure bliss; in a brief half coherent moment his optics collided with a sight that Prowl never expected to see. It had him nearly falling flat on his desk in embarrassment, trying to hide his shame by turning away his faceplates but his optics were glued to that one mech. Fear slammed into his spark when his optics finally collided with a very familiar visor and a knowing sensual smirk; the mech of so many of his erotic fluxes was leaning casually against the open doorway and merely observed them with hidden lust and a promise for more than just casual observations.
"Heya Prowler." The sultry tone had Prowl keening high and loud, the last of his control snapping completely in a rush of relief and pure excitable anticipation and a different form of love he himself was not used to. His spark swelled at the realization and Prowl's voice rose in the last vestiges of his intense overload. Optics never closing as his spark was beating a frantic pulse against his spark chamber, aching to connect to this one mech and never let go again.
0oooo00oooo0
The soft lighting of the base illuminated the path to the individual offices; darkness from the night crept in from the large open window panes and the chill of the incoming winter months spread through the Praxus base unbidden of the mechs still working this late. A controlled shadow was moving through the long hallways, avoiding all the cameras expertly and willingly just as he prowled past security guards without them ever bating an optic. His movements were so graceful it appeared as if he was merely dancing to the rhythm of a melody that only he knew. A dimmed visor taking in the security before clever fingers bypassed encryptions and disabled past alarms as if they were never there in the first place.
The glow of an open office door and shining lights loomed a few paces ahead and Jazz slowed; a sense of anticipation building in his circuits. He was finally going to see Prowl again, he had been restraining himself from getting too attached to the mech he had helped all those vorns ago but now he finally wanted to settle down. After vorns of waiting and planning their future together; it was often the only thing that got Jazz through some of his more dangerous and tedious missions for the Spec Ops. Now, as the Director of the Spec Ops he was free to have a steady station at a base and allowed to finally take Prowl to be his lover. Circumstances had changed for the better. A lazy smile curled across his lip components the closer he got to his salvation, yes, there was no other word for it. Prowl was his salvation, his only hope as he had come to realize over the vorns of dangerous work. Prowl was always brushing across his thoughts when everything else seemed so completely helpless.
His pedesteps were silent but sure of their destination. Jazz's excitement was now palpable to even him and the bright beacon of light at the end of the hallway was his only true salvation and forgiveness. Only a touch of trepidation reached his spark but Jazz was used to ignoring it, even when there was a real possibility that Prowl would not want him anymore. Jazz didn't dwell on it, it wasn't in his nature to brood over things he had no control over.
The corridors were empty now and Jazz hummed a melody to himself, it was the lullaby he had first sung to Prowl when the tactician was in distress. It was a pleasant soothing caress to his audios in spite of his mounting excitement; Jazz was practically vibrating in his exhilaration. This wasn't a mission anymore, no, this was something to sooth the ache that his spark had been experiencing for vorns. Even though he was sneaking through an Autobot base in Praxus like the saboteur he was, Jazz was actually expected here so if he was found now he didn't run the risk of being taken prisoner.
He only played this game with himself to build his own excitement at meeting Prowl again; his Spec Ops programming was strange sometimes ― only allowing him enjoy something if he had worked for it. Keeping his focus trained on the open doorway, Jazz felt himself heat up at the sounds he now heard echoing through the corridors. When he finally reached the open doorway Jazz was about to walk straight in and claim Prowl for himself but he froze instead. The light from the inside the office was illuminating the two figures inside and was glinting off of his visor dimly. The sight that met him had Jazz completely captivated; his visor immediately brightened so that he could take in every possible detail that was spread for his processor to ravage.
"My beloved brother Prowl." The Praxian behind Prowl hummed and a quiet rush of air left Jazz's intakes, a sense of awe spilling through his emotional core before his interface protocols were already pinging him for execution. This was Prowl's twin, if he remembered the information Prowl had given him in a fleeting moment all those vorns ago. The Spec Ops Director couldn't think, couldn't speak and couldn't move as he watched the Praxian he had coveted for vorns upon vorns of a lonely existence ― in the throes of ecstasy by his brother's servos. It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen.
Doorwings quivered erotically beneath the experienced fingertips of another Praxian mech, this one grey and red, pressed against Prowl's back struts expertly. Jazz nearly choked on his glossa with the way that Prowl was bent over the desk ― arched gracefully into exploring fingertips with beautifully flared black and white doorwings that fluttered and quivered with every charge of pleasure that rushed through the young mech. Prowl's brother, as Jazz had identified the mech by his words earlier, was leaning over the smaller framed Prowl seductively. Jazz found himself shuddering at the howl of pleasure that Prowl let lose once his overload hit. And when those beautiful, innocent optics snapped open to connect with Jazz's visor; the saboteur couldn't help but give a lazy seductive smile.
"Heya Prowler." He purred, his smile spreading when Prowl keened higher and louder the moment he had spoken to him directly. Those beautiful features twisted in pure bliss and abandonment, Prowler was even more beautiful than Jazz remembered him being. A soft sympathetic moan left his vocalizer once Prowl slumped back onto the desk, strutless in his post overload haze. Even Jazz could feel the intensity of that overload like static electricity rushing across his plating and he was merely observing.
"He'll be happier now that you're back Jazz. He's told me so much about you, even saves himself only for you. I'm going to leave you now, look after him. He has been depressed lately and I don't know why. He needs you desperately; even I can't do much more for his spark ache." Jazz started when the other mech, he had yet to identify other than Prowl's twin, moved away from behind the desk and towards the open door. Never once stopping in his talking or never lifted that gentle understanding smile that Jazz was gifted with. He frowned however at all the words and the information he had just been given in a mere half klik but eventually the legendary saboteur nodded; taking the responsibility that he had just been offered.
"Who 're ya?" Jazz eventually settled on asking that one question after the multitude of questions rushing through his processor.
"Bluestreak, Prowl's twin b-but I-I have to go now; I've got patrol. Please look after him for me for now." The Praxian answered swiftly and Jazz smiled at Bluestreak and nodded his assent; he however frowned when he noticed enticing grey doorwings quivering in suppressed release. Jazz wanted to stop Bluestreak from leaving but when the door hissed shut there was nothing more he could do and his attention was now solely focused on Prowl. His visor trained on the young noble spread appetisingly across the desk before him, Prowl had yet to move from where he had made himself comfortable. Jazz chuckled at the Praxian's sated expression and intensely confused optics who were imploring him for an answer for his sudden appearance.
"Hey Prowler, 't's been a while. How 're ya?" Jazz asked gently, his spark was settling a bit more now that they were alone together. Jazz pulled Prowl's desk chair closer to him before he seated himself gracefully. He chuckled at the way Prowl was fighting with himself, mouth components opening and closing as intakes hitched in the aftermath of an intense overload. When Prowl pushed himself onto his elbow struts to make a point, his entire frame was vibrating from exertion. Jazz took pity on the Praxian mech and with a small sigh, traced innocent features.
His own servo now curling around Prowl's for comfort before he pulled the unsuspecting mech into his lap; white thigh plates resting on either side of Jazz's hip components in the abrupt change of position. Prowl's engine purred happily against Jazz's chassis and he leaned more into Jazz's frame. The saboteur rubbed tense back struts in a soothing tender touch although he stayed well away from still quivering doorwings, knowing that the appendages were hypersensitive to any form of touch at the moment. Jazz had to truly exercise self control because he wanted nothing more than to caress those sensor enriched panels and see what sort of noises he could wring from Prowl's vocalizer. But by Primus' right he kept himself in check; knowing that there was something else he had to tell his little lover first. Plus, Prowl could actually be in pain if he forced another sensor net enriched overload.
"W-wh-why―." Jazz smiled softly, his fingers tracing Prowl's chevron in comfort as he waited patiently for the tactician to reset his vocalizer. Those innocent optics were intent on capturing his visor for eternity and Jazz couldn't find it in himself to look away; he reassured Prowl that he wasn't going anywhere. The young Praxian noble was too precious to him and now that those cheek plates were a deep pink in embarrassment and arousal he wanted nothing more than to claim Prowl for himself for all of eternity, even his spark was happy at that admission. Prowl would be his.
"Why are you here?" Prowl forced from his tired vocalizer, proud that no static had interrupted his words even when his spark pulse was way too fast ― it was chasing too much Energon through his systems and he was running hot again. No matter that his spark was practically dancing in its chamber with joy. Prowl had to grip Jazz's shoulder plates as he fought to steady himself when his equilibrium seemed to be ripped away from him just as he was logically trying to figure out just what had happened; it was proving more difficult than normal.
He had been bent over his desk with Bluestreak offering him relief from difficult emotions when he had become aware of Jazz's presence. Prowl lost track of all his thoughts at that moment. His processor was still hazy with the sheer force of his overload and the knowledge that it had been Jazz who had watched him in the throes of passion. Prowl couldn't help the inexplicable joy he felt in seeing the Kaonian again and the embarrassment that now traced his Energon lines. How many vorns had he waited to hear from Jazz? How many vorns had he hoped that what they shared that night meant more to Jazz than just helping a fellow Autobot in distress? Now that Jazz was finally here, Prowl couldn't help but hope that Jazz wanted him as much as he had wanted Jazz.
Prowl allowed his protective, stoic walls to drop after a few kliks of silence ― the trust he shared with the saboteur had not faded since that night. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lip plates as Prowl's sensitive doorwings fluttered behind him in joy and anticipation. His previous dark emotions was slipping away from him and leaving a giddy youngling in its place. Even with the compromising position he now found himself in Prowl couldn't help but be grateful and happy, even his engine was letting out a low purr of enjoyment of being held by Jazz again. Even his systems were still tingling with the force of the pleasure that had escaped him a breem ago. Prowl was now very well aware of the uncomfortable feeling of his valve trickling lubricating in hopes for more. They had not even discussed the reasoning behind the Jazz's arrival but Prowl's processor wasn't truly in control at the moment; he wanted Jazz and he wanted him badly. His emotional core was screaming at him to not let the one mech go that had made him more safe than even Ratchet could.
"'M 'ere ta take ya 'ome wit' meh Prowler. Ya've been called back ta base in Iacon 'nd Ah 'ffred ta bring ya 'nd yer twin back wit' meh. Ah wanted ta see ya 'gain 'fter so long." At Jazz's words, Prowl shivered. The note of a seductive purr did not go unnoticed and Prowl squirmed where he was seated. Keeping himself steady by laying his hands on Jazz's shoulder plates, even digging his fingers into transformer seams ― Prowl pushed himself back a little to observe Jazz better.
"But Carrier or Sire would have told me if I was expected back on the Ark. Then again, Carrier has been bothered by something lately ― he won't talk to me about it." Prowl noted uncertainly but when he pressed a query against his Creator-Creation Union it remained assuring that it was still there but it was still stubbornly silent. When Jazz chuckled at his innocent concern Prowl bristled but said nothing, he was after all balanced in the mech's lap and if Prowl or Jazz moved too much he could find himself toppling on his aft. And the floor didn't look like a very dignified place to sprawl out now. Not to mention that his arousal would be exposed that was currently hidden from Jazz's visor.
Prowl was mortified to find that his valve's lubricants had leaked in a steady trickle of silvery blue rivulets past his closed interface panel and down shimmering white thighs. However when he squirmed in Jazz's lap a servo rested on his hip plates to steady his movements and Prowl was afraid that Jazz would feel his need and arousal. Prowl tried his best to ignored it and in his mortified shamed buried his faceplates in Jazz's neck cables. A sly, inexperienced glossa sneaking out to tease the sensitive neck cabling in hopes of getting Jazz to focus on something else. When Jazz's engine erupted in a rumble of satisfaction, Prowl felt his spark leap in his spark chamber. A small whine of triumph escaping his vocalizer.
"If ya don' si' still Prowler, Ah'm gonna put ya in stasis cuffs." Jazz warned when Prowl found a very sensitive spot kissing just behind Jazz's sensor horn. He could feel the heat rolling off Prowl in waves as Prowl blushed and stammered at his claim. Prowl squirmed again when Jazz's servo tightened against his hip plates, a servo tracing the inside of Prowl's thighs. When Jazz felt the slick lubricant on Prowl's inner thighs he nearly lost his resolve about what he was going to say. Instead Jazz just continued to rub little circles on Prowl's thighs to keep the mech grounded.
"Now, Ah know ya would rather do somethin' 'lse bu' I need ta say somethin' before we take this further." Prowl felt a shot of fear race across his spark but didn't acknowledge it; his servos disobeyed Jazz's words from before and he fiddled with one of Jazz's sensory horns in hopes of distracting Jazz from whatever he was going to say. The foreboding feeling Prowl had flitting across his spark didn't fade and for the first time in a long time ― he felt vulnerable and exposed. His spark was dictating his movements and despite Jazz's warning Prowl continued to squirm and writhe in Jazz's lap. He was desperately trying to stall Jazz's words because he was afraid of what the Spec Ops would say. Was he still unlovable? Would Jazz no longer want him now that he knew what he did with his twin? There were so many questions but so little answers and it was giving Prowl a Pit of a processor ache.
Prowl felt his intakes hitch when that sharp visor was trained on him and a lazy smirk curled at his lover's lip plates. Before he could try and wiggle to make himself more comfortable in Jazz tight grip he was pushed back on the surface of the desk. This time being held there with strong servos. Before Prowl could try and move he heard a click and found his servos completely restricted. Jazz hummed satisfyingly at his work and easily pulled Prowl back into his lap; this time with his back pressing against Prowl's chest. Those doorwings were humming in uncertainty and Prowl was vibrating with fear. Jazz shushed him with gentle caresses to a sensitive chevron, he wasn't sure why Prowl was radiating so much apprehension but he didn't want his little Praxian to feel that.
"Now tha' Ah 'ave yer attention, Prowler. Let meh talk." Prowl nodded when he relaxed beneath Jazz's ministration; his interface protocols cooling at the assuring humming that vibrated against his audial receiver pleasantly. Prowl relaxed back into Jazz's frame despite his servos now cuffed in front of him.
"Yer no' 'n trouble Prowl, Ah jus' wan' te ask ya somethin'." Prowl's tense doorwings drooped and he shifted a bit, the stasis cuffs weren't hurting him but they were somewhat uncomfortable now. Yet, what Prowl didn't understand was why his plating was heating up at the thought of being bound and helpless beneath Jazz for any period of time. When he swallowed thickly, Prowl finally nodded in consent ― indicating that he was listening.
"Ah don' know if ya also feel this Prowl;" Jazz began; his servo resting just above Prowl's spark chamber as he tapped a tender rhythm there with his clawed finger. "The jump in mah spark whenever Ah think 'bout ya; the res'lution ya give meh when Ah've los' all purpose. Ah don' wan' this te be jus' a casual relationship, Prowler. Ah wan' ya all te m'self. Ah guess Ah'm asking ta form'lly court ya fer a bond." Prowl stilled at those words, his Battle Computer warring his logic at the sudden revelation that Jazz had just spoken. A sound of surprise left his vocalizer and it felt as if the world was closing in on him too fast but Prowl calmed instantly when he truly thought about Jazz had asked. He hadn't asked for a bond right away, he had asked for courting him first to test the lengths that their bond would one day reach. Prowl blushed, his arousal didn't fade in fact his interface array was even hotter and wetter than before.
Momentarily weighing the words against the happy jump of his spark Prowl didn't have words; relief flooded through his systems enough that blue coolant tears gathered in his optics. A strangled sound escaped his vocalizer in a whisper of a 'yes'. He wanted this more than he could voice or express at the moment.
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Part 2 can be found here: http://snowy-way.livejournal.com/13494.html