Snapshots Drabbles
Title: Snapshots Drabbles
Series: Snapshots
Rating: R
Summary:A few drabbles from the Snapshots 'Verse
Pairings: ProwlxJazz
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, Red Alert, Smokescreen, Ratchet, Smokey (OC Sparkling)
Universe:The one I wished I lived in XD
It was a pleasing sensation to wake to, the gentle swish of fingers gliding across sensitised metal. Minuscule sensors tracking every movement, as shudders danced through his body.
His systems slowly on-lined, taking the time to boot up, wallowing in the sensations trickling over one doorwing.
He didn’t move as his optics brightened gradually, allowing his beloved to enjoy himself. After all, it wasn’t often that they could leisurely sleep in, waking each other in a loving way with no younglings crowding the berth or crying for attention.
::This is nice:: he whispered through the bond, sending a jolt of love to his bond-mate.
::What is?::
Prowl laughed at the innocent question.
::What you’re doing is nice:: Prowl sent more encouragement through the bond, hoping to prod his beloved into lavishing some attention on the other, lonely, doorwing.
::I’m glad you think so, but trust me trying to keep these two younglings in the washracks long enough...::
::Washracks?:: Prowl interjected, feeling along the bond, and clearly able to determine that his bond-mate was not in the room, or berth with him.
He didn’t move, his sensors picking up the slight pressure on the edge of the doorwing resting on the berth. The sweeping sensations came again, and Prowl called to Jazz through the bond. ::Jazz, who have you got?::
::I got Blue and Red. I put Smokey in the berth::
::Jazz, did you...give Smokey anything to play with?:: Prowl shuttered his optics as he half expected the reply.
::Just his crayons and colouring book. Why?::
Prowl sighed, head banging against the berth. He decided to let Smokey finish his masterpiece then Jazz could scrub off the crayon marks, he was sure now covered one of his doorwings.
~-~
Prowl stopped in his tracks as he walked through the door, frowning at the sight of Bluestreak standing with, apparently, his face against the wall. As far as he was aware, the youngling hadn’t been exiled to the corner anytime recently...
“Gah, whatcha stop for?” a puzzled voice asked as something walked into his wing. Prowl half turned, careful not to flick Jazz in the face, having forgotten in his surprise that his beloved had been following him. Red Alert, happily secured in his daddy’s arms, clicked a few times and made to reach for the wings that were suddenly a lot closer to his grasp than they normally were.
“What’s he doing?” the tactician questioned, prompting Jazz to peer around him and give a soft exasperated laugh as he shook his head.
“Measurin himself, again. Thinks he’s grown since yesterday. Again,” Jazz pointed out the bit of charcoal Prowl had missed, that Bluestreak was trying to line up with the tip of his chevron. Unfortunately for the youngling, he had to keep looking up to achieve his goal, which meant it all kept moving.
Prowl merely shook his head and moved over to where Bluestreak was failing to properly indicate his height, leaning on the wall beside the youngling, who looked back at him hopefully, Jazz following with a Red Alert who was fussing over the loss of his playthings.
“I believe,” Prowl amended, peering at the wall, “That you’re three different heights today.”
“No!” came the unhappy insistence. “I’m up to here now!” Prowl had to hide a laugh as Bluestreak very seriously pointed at the top of his chevron. The black and white sank to kneel beside his creation, holding out his hand for the charcoal, offering to do it for him. Bluestreak complied with a happy twitch of his wings, spinning around when Prowl instructed him to do so.
But, upon seeing his father raise the charcoal above his brother’s head, Red Alert started wriggling, making grabbing motions at the drawing implement and squealing.
“Think Red wants to do it,” Jazz grumbled, trying to pull him back into his grasp. Bluestreak frowned as he watched Prowl hand up the charcoal, but stayed obediently still as Jazz knelt down, allowing Red Alert to take the charcoal.
The sparkling chirruped happily as he did as he’d seen his father do, and moved the charcoal towards his brother’s head...
And promptly drew a big black line on Bluestreak’s helm.
“RED!” Bluestreak danced back into Prowl, as Red Alert giggled, leaving their creators to try and once again suppress any laughter at Blue’s expense.
“It’ll come off, Blue,” Prowl told him, dusting a bit of it off already, while Jazz scolded the sparkling and earned himself a black mark on his face. After some convincing that Red Alert wouldn’t draw on him again, Bluestreak was convinced to take his place by the wall again, and Jazz guided the little hand -over- the grey helm and to the wall.
He grinned as Prowl reached over, silently pointing to slightly above Bluestreak’s true height - that is, slightly above where he had been measured a week ago - raising the charcoal to the new position.
Bluestreak was, of course, delighted to discover that he had been right about having grown some more, and skipped away without any more cares in the world.
“Keep this up,” Jazz told Prowl, as he extracted the coal from Red’s hands before he could make more mess, “And he’ll be your height by the end of the year.”
~-~
Prowl couldn’t help wincing at the booming voice of a slightly inebriated ambassador from Kaon. The mech was holding yet another goblet of vintage high-grade, slurping it whilst trying to continue a conversation.
Prowl seemed to be nodding in all the right places until the ambassador paused, tilting his head. Prowl looked blankly at the mech, not actually knowing how to reply as a simple yes, no, nod or shake of the head didn’t seem to suffice. He was stuck and if he chose the wrong words he could very well undo all of the Prime’s meticulous negotiations.
“Er...” he stumbled, his intelligent processor drawing a complete blank.
“What he means, ambassador, is tha’ he couldn’t agree more.” Prowl turned to the mech who had waltzed up beside him, slotting a hand through Prowl’s arm, leaning against him in a sultry manner.
The ambassador laughed loudly, slapping a hand on Prowl’s unoccupied shoulder.
“Ya’ll have to excuse him, he’s a shy mech.” Prowl would have frowned at that comment from his companion, but he was geared towards keeping a neutral expression in this job.
“And I take it that you are not?” The ambassador proclaimed clearly, and Prowl’s expression became even more neutral as he watched the red optics run over the mech beside him with ‘far’ too much interest.
“Ya righ’ there, and now, if ya don’ mind this ‘un-shy’ mech is gonna steal this shy, handsome mech away from ya.”
The ambassador laughed and toasted the couple as Prowl was dragged away, though he didn’t put up much resistance. As they both stepped onto the dance floor, arms curling about each other as they began swaying to the harmonious ballad being played.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Prowl whispered against one sculptured cheek.
“I know,” was whispered against Prowl’s neck.
“I didn’t have a clue what he was asking, good job that you did.”
Jazz snickered into Prowl’s chest, prompting his bondmate to look down at him. “Lover,” Jazz smiled seductively, “I didn’ have a fraggin’ clue wha’ he was sayin’,” adding with a shrug, “I jus’ guessed.”
Prowl’s frown was so intense his chevron almost became part of his nose, while Jazz smiled up at him adoringly. “Jazz,” he reprimanded, his voice taking the militaristic tone he used with the soldiers. “That could have been the wrong choice; you could have caused an international incident.”
“Lover, he won’ remember anythin’ come mornin’, so I doubt it would have been tha’ bad.”
“Jazz, you did not know that.”
Jazz looked patiently at him, that small half-moon smile gracing his lips.
Prowl shuttered his optics, picking back up the pace of the melody, and sighed out, “I’m being an aft aren’t I.”
Jazz laughed, resting his helm once again in its favourite spot against Prowl’s shoulder. “Mmmm,” he purred, “I love ya, Prowl.”
Prowl smiled a rather soppy smile, even though he knew Jazz couldn’t see it, he knew his beloved could feel it through their bond as Jazz’s hands tightened imperceptibly around his neck. He tightened his own hold, resting his chin on Jazz’s head. He couldn’t wait for this function to be over.
~-~
Jazz and Prowl walked into their house.
They had not been living there long, and it had been an amazing moment when Prowl had informed Jazz that they were being offered a house.
True, it was on a purpose built military base, though there were facilities for families, such as an education centre and recreational facilities.
Overall it had proven to be a worthwhile move, and the extra space was wonderful, now Blue and Red each had a room, with a spare for when Smokey was old enough to have his own berth.
Prowl smiled at Smokescreen, who was sat on the couch and bundled by three little mechlets. Blue was snuggled under one arm, Red had his head resting in Smokescreen’s lap, and Smokey was cradled in the large mech’s other arm.
Blue and Smokescreen where both still wide-awake watching something on the vid-screen, whilst the other two were quietly recharging soft little hums resonating from their systems.
Jazz smiled warmly at them soothing a hand over Red’s little horns, before picking up Smokey and cradling him, an adoring look on his face.
“I’m jus’ gonna put this one down,” he walked away stopping when Smokescreen called out quietly, informing Jazz that the recharge berth was set up in the spare room as Smokescreen had intended getting all three younglings into recharge sooner, and keeping Smokey in the room Smokescreen was going to occupy for the night.
Jazz thought for a moment, he didn’t fancy taking apart the crib just to move it back to their room, and looking at his bonded, it was easy to see Prowl felt the same way.
“Ya mind if he sleeps in wit’ ya?”
Smokescreen shook his head, barely sparing a glance as he had already returned his attention to the vid-screen.
Once Smokey was settled Jazz came back and found that Prowl had already taken Red to his room. Once Prowl returned, slipping his hands into Jazz’s and placing a small peck on a cheek, Prowl whispered their goodnight’s to the two mechs.
Smokescreen had obviously not heard Prowl as he looked up as the two were walking away, “You’re off to recharge huh?”
Prowl turned slightly to acknowledge when a clear voice piped up.
“No, he’s going to frag daddy.”
Prowl actually stumbled against Jazz.
Jazz had frozen, hands gripping his bonded to keep him upright.
Smokescreen had a hand over his mouth, face crinkled as he tried to hold in the raging laugh that was aching to burst free.
Prowl righted himself, unable to do more than that as the words, spoken in that purely innocent and oblivious tone, ran through his processor on repeat.
A nudge at his spark, and he turned his inward attention, momentarily to Jazz.
::Jus’ calm down::
::Jazz...he said the...F word::
Jazz couldn’t hold back the snicker.
::Ya talkin’ in m’head lover, you’re allowed to say ‘the word’ in here, ya know::
:: Where the...:: Prowl cut his thought off from Jazz as the mech started to shake with suppressed laughter.
Turning completely, Prowl glared down at his eldest son. “Bluestreak,” he spoke calmly, despite the nudge from Jazz to not be too hard on the mechlet. “Where did you hear that word?”
Jazz snorted, he couldn’t help it and this set off a reaction in Smokescreen who now slumped sideways on the couch, his head buried in one corner, muffled laughter sounding from him.
Blue looked at everyone, not sure what he’d done and receiving cross-signals from his creators and his uncle.
Jazz sensed the confusion, as did Prowl and the tactician’s features smoothed over as he nudged his bonded.
::Jazz, your help is appreciated here::
Composing himself Jazz turned and schooled a placid look on his features, “Blue, where d’ya hear that, baby?”
Bluestreak knew his daddy wasn’t angry with him, and responded to the question, “Side’s said that’s what all grown-up bots do.”
“Really,” Jazz answered, barely containing his mirth, “Well, Blue, err...” Jazz faltered.
::Ya help is appreciated, lover:: he sent through the bond, watching Prowl’s lips twitch in sync with the doorwings.
“Bluestreak, what your parents are tryin’ to say,” Smokescreen had composed himself enough, sitting up once more beside Bluestreak, and wrapping an arm around him, “Is that, you shouldn’t use that word. It’s a bad word.”
A puzzled look washed over Blue’s face and Jazz couldn’t stand it anymore, the laughter rang out as he nearly curled into himself, gasping.
“Bluestreak, please do not use that word again.” Prowl bit out, trying to sound all commanding, but his pinched expression gave away that the mech was fighting a raging battle against his own laughter.
Turning Prowl grabbed Jazz’s arm and spoke loudly, “We are going to ‘recharge’,” he enunciated the last word clearly to avoid ‘anymore’ confusion.
~-~
Jazz had yet to stop laughing as he lay on the berth, Prowl beside him smirking at his beloved. “I dunno which was funnier, ya face, Smokescreen’s or mine.”
Prowl released a small muffled laugh of his own as he pressed his lips against Jazz’s shoulder, “Blue’s face,” he spoke.
“I know,” Jazz giggled, “It was th’ look o’ innocence there.”
Prowl lost himself in his own laughter, Jazz rolling over and cuddling up against him.
“I can’t say that I’m happy with him knowing...that sort of...stuff.” Prowl shrugged the words out, Jazz smirking at the embarrassment colouring the bond.
“Well one of these days he’s gonna be knowin’ an’ doin’ ‘that’ sort o’ ‘stuff’.”
“No, he won’t.” Prowl replied. Turning his head to stare at Jazz, a serious expression crossing his face, “I have a very big gun, and I know how to use it.”
Jazz lost it; he curled himself up in a near ball of laughing metal with visions of Prowl threatening any suitors who came calling for Bluestreak, wielding a mighty cannon.
Finally his giggling subsided and he looked at his bond-mate, a smirk on his lips as he snuggled against Prowl. Meeting his lover’s gaze Jazz whispered huskily, “So...are you gonna frag daddy, then?”
Prowl let his own devilish smirk creep across his lips as he moved himself over Jazz. “Oh most certainly,” he murmured his tone dropping to a purr as he added, “Repeatedly.”
Series: Snapshots
Rating: R
Summary:A few drabbles from the Snapshots 'Verse
Pairings: ProwlxJazz
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, Red Alert, Smokescreen, Ratchet, Smokey (OC Sparkling)
Universe:The one I wished I lived in XD
It was a pleasing sensation to wake to, the gentle swish of fingers gliding across sensitised metal. Minuscule sensors tracking every movement, as shudders danced through his body.
His systems slowly on-lined, taking the time to boot up, wallowing in the sensations trickling over one doorwing.
He didn’t move as his optics brightened gradually, allowing his beloved to enjoy himself. After all, it wasn’t often that they could leisurely sleep in, waking each other in a loving way with no younglings crowding the berth or crying for attention.
::This is nice:: he whispered through the bond, sending a jolt of love to his bond-mate.
::What is?::
Prowl laughed at the innocent question.
::What you’re doing is nice:: Prowl sent more encouragement through the bond, hoping to prod his beloved into lavishing some attention on the other, lonely, doorwing.
::I’m glad you think so, but trust me trying to keep these two younglings in the washracks long enough...::
::Washracks?:: Prowl interjected, feeling along the bond, and clearly able to determine that his bond-mate was not in the room, or berth with him.
He didn’t move, his sensors picking up the slight pressure on the edge of the doorwing resting on the berth. The sweeping sensations came again, and Prowl called to Jazz through the bond. ::Jazz, who have you got?::
::I got Blue and Red. I put Smokey in the berth::
::Jazz, did you...give Smokey anything to play with?:: Prowl shuttered his optics as he half expected the reply.
::Just his crayons and colouring book. Why?::
Prowl sighed, head banging against the berth. He decided to let Smokey finish his masterpiece then Jazz could scrub off the crayon marks, he was sure now covered one of his doorwings.
~-~
Prowl stopped in his tracks as he walked through the door, frowning at the sight of Bluestreak standing with, apparently, his face against the wall. As far as he was aware, the youngling hadn’t been exiled to the corner anytime recently...
“Gah, whatcha stop for?” a puzzled voice asked as something walked into his wing. Prowl half turned, careful not to flick Jazz in the face, having forgotten in his surprise that his beloved had been following him. Red Alert, happily secured in his daddy’s arms, clicked a few times and made to reach for the wings that were suddenly a lot closer to his grasp than they normally were.
“What’s he doing?” the tactician questioned, prompting Jazz to peer around him and give a soft exasperated laugh as he shook his head.
“Measurin himself, again. Thinks he’s grown since yesterday. Again,” Jazz pointed out the bit of charcoal Prowl had missed, that Bluestreak was trying to line up with the tip of his chevron. Unfortunately for the youngling, he had to keep looking up to achieve his goal, which meant it all kept moving.
Prowl merely shook his head and moved over to where Bluestreak was failing to properly indicate his height, leaning on the wall beside the youngling, who looked back at him hopefully, Jazz following with a Red Alert who was fussing over the loss of his playthings.
“I believe,” Prowl amended, peering at the wall, “That you’re three different heights today.”
“No!” came the unhappy insistence. “I’m up to here now!” Prowl had to hide a laugh as Bluestreak very seriously pointed at the top of his chevron. The black and white sank to kneel beside his creation, holding out his hand for the charcoal, offering to do it for him. Bluestreak complied with a happy twitch of his wings, spinning around when Prowl instructed him to do so.
But, upon seeing his father raise the charcoal above his brother’s head, Red Alert started wriggling, making grabbing motions at the drawing implement and squealing.
“Think Red wants to do it,” Jazz grumbled, trying to pull him back into his grasp. Bluestreak frowned as he watched Prowl hand up the charcoal, but stayed obediently still as Jazz knelt down, allowing Red Alert to take the charcoal.
The sparkling chirruped happily as he did as he’d seen his father do, and moved the charcoal towards his brother’s head...
And promptly drew a big black line on Bluestreak’s helm.
“RED!” Bluestreak danced back into Prowl, as Red Alert giggled, leaving their creators to try and once again suppress any laughter at Blue’s expense.
“It’ll come off, Blue,” Prowl told him, dusting a bit of it off already, while Jazz scolded the sparkling and earned himself a black mark on his face. After some convincing that Red Alert wouldn’t draw on him again, Bluestreak was convinced to take his place by the wall again, and Jazz guided the little hand -over- the grey helm and to the wall.
He grinned as Prowl reached over, silently pointing to slightly above Bluestreak’s true height - that is, slightly above where he had been measured a week ago - raising the charcoal to the new position.
Bluestreak was, of course, delighted to discover that he had been right about having grown some more, and skipped away without any more cares in the world.
“Keep this up,” Jazz told Prowl, as he extracted the coal from Red’s hands before he could make more mess, “And he’ll be your height by the end of the year.”
~-~
Prowl couldn’t help wincing at the booming voice of a slightly inebriated ambassador from Kaon. The mech was holding yet another goblet of vintage high-grade, slurping it whilst trying to continue a conversation.
Prowl seemed to be nodding in all the right places until the ambassador paused, tilting his head. Prowl looked blankly at the mech, not actually knowing how to reply as a simple yes, no, nod or shake of the head didn’t seem to suffice. He was stuck and if he chose the wrong words he could very well undo all of the Prime’s meticulous negotiations.
“Er...” he stumbled, his intelligent processor drawing a complete blank.
“What he means, ambassador, is tha’ he couldn’t agree more.” Prowl turned to the mech who had waltzed up beside him, slotting a hand through Prowl’s arm, leaning against him in a sultry manner.
The ambassador laughed loudly, slapping a hand on Prowl’s unoccupied shoulder.
“Ya’ll have to excuse him, he’s a shy mech.” Prowl would have frowned at that comment from his companion, but he was geared towards keeping a neutral expression in this job.
“And I take it that you are not?” The ambassador proclaimed clearly, and Prowl’s expression became even more neutral as he watched the red optics run over the mech beside him with ‘far’ too much interest.
“Ya righ’ there, and now, if ya don’ mind this ‘un-shy’ mech is gonna steal this shy, handsome mech away from ya.”
The ambassador laughed and toasted the couple as Prowl was dragged away, though he didn’t put up much resistance. As they both stepped onto the dance floor, arms curling about each other as they began swaying to the harmonious ballad being played.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Prowl whispered against one sculptured cheek.
“I know,” was whispered against Prowl’s neck.
“I didn’t have a clue what he was asking, good job that you did.”
Jazz snickered into Prowl’s chest, prompting his bondmate to look down at him. “Lover,” Jazz smiled seductively, “I didn’ have a fraggin’ clue wha’ he was sayin’,” adding with a shrug, “I jus’ guessed.”
Prowl’s frown was so intense his chevron almost became part of his nose, while Jazz smiled up at him adoringly. “Jazz,” he reprimanded, his voice taking the militaristic tone he used with the soldiers. “That could have been the wrong choice; you could have caused an international incident.”
“Lover, he won’ remember anythin’ come mornin’, so I doubt it would have been tha’ bad.”
“Jazz, you did not know that.”
Jazz looked patiently at him, that small half-moon smile gracing his lips.
Prowl shuttered his optics, picking back up the pace of the melody, and sighed out, “I’m being an aft aren’t I.”
Jazz laughed, resting his helm once again in its favourite spot against Prowl’s shoulder. “Mmmm,” he purred, “I love ya, Prowl.”
Prowl smiled a rather soppy smile, even though he knew Jazz couldn’t see it, he knew his beloved could feel it through their bond as Jazz’s hands tightened imperceptibly around his neck. He tightened his own hold, resting his chin on Jazz’s head. He couldn’t wait for this function to be over.
~-~
Jazz and Prowl walked into their house.
They had not been living there long, and it had been an amazing moment when Prowl had informed Jazz that they were being offered a house.
True, it was on a purpose built military base, though there were facilities for families, such as an education centre and recreational facilities.
Overall it had proven to be a worthwhile move, and the extra space was wonderful, now Blue and Red each had a room, with a spare for when Smokey was old enough to have his own berth.
Prowl smiled at Smokescreen, who was sat on the couch and bundled by three little mechlets. Blue was snuggled under one arm, Red had his head resting in Smokescreen’s lap, and Smokey was cradled in the large mech’s other arm.
Blue and Smokescreen where both still wide-awake watching something on the vid-screen, whilst the other two were quietly recharging soft little hums resonating from their systems.
Jazz smiled warmly at them soothing a hand over Red’s little horns, before picking up Smokey and cradling him, an adoring look on his face.
“I’m jus’ gonna put this one down,” he walked away stopping when Smokescreen called out quietly, informing Jazz that the recharge berth was set up in the spare room as Smokescreen had intended getting all three younglings into recharge sooner, and keeping Smokey in the room Smokescreen was going to occupy for the night.
Jazz thought for a moment, he didn’t fancy taking apart the crib just to move it back to their room, and looking at his bonded, it was easy to see Prowl felt the same way.
“Ya mind if he sleeps in wit’ ya?”
Smokescreen shook his head, barely sparing a glance as he had already returned his attention to the vid-screen.
Once Smokey was settled Jazz came back and found that Prowl had already taken Red to his room. Once Prowl returned, slipping his hands into Jazz’s and placing a small peck on a cheek, Prowl whispered their goodnight’s to the two mechs.
Smokescreen had obviously not heard Prowl as he looked up as the two were walking away, “You’re off to recharge huh?”
Prowl turned slightly to acknowledge when a clear voice piped up.
“No, he’s going to frag daddy.”
Prowl actually stumbled against Jazz.
Jazz had frozen, hands gripping his bonded to keep him upright.
Smokescreen had a hand over his mouth, face crinkled as he tried to hold in the raging laugh that was aching to burst free.
Prowl righted himself, unable to do more than that as the words, spoken in that purely innocent and oblivious tone, ran through his processor on repeat.
A nudge at his spark, and he turned his inward attention, momentarily to Jazz.
::Jus’ calm down::
::Jazz...he said the...F word::
Jazz couldn’t hold back the snicker.
::Ya talkin’ in m’head lover, you’re allowed to say ‘the word’ in here, ya know::
:: Where the...:: Prowl cut his thought off from Jazz as the mech started to shake with suppressed laughter.
Turning completely, Prowl glared down at his eldest son. “Bluestreak,” he spoke calmly, despite the nudge from Jazz to not be too hard on the mechlet. “Where did you hear that word?”
Jazz snorted, he couldn’t help it and this set off a reaction in Smokescreen who now slumped sideways on the couch, his head buried in one corner, muffled laughter sounding from him.
Blue looked at everyone, not sure what he’d done and receiving cross-signals from his creators and his uncle.
Jazz sensed the confusion, as did Prowl and the tactician’s features smoothed over as he nudged his bonded.
::Jazz, your help is appreciated here::
Composing himself Jazz turned and schooled a placid look on his features, “Blue, where d’ya hear that, baby?”
Bluestreak knew his daddy wasn’t angry with him, and responded to the question, “Side’s said that’s what all grown-up bots do.”
“Really,” Jazz answered, barely containing his mirth, “Well, Blue, err...” Jazz faltered.
::Ya help is appreciated, lover:: he sent through the bond, watching Prowl’s lips twitch in sync with the doorwings.
“Bluestreak, what your parents are tryin’ to say,” Smokescreen had composed himself enough, sitting up once more beside Bluestreak, and wrapping an arm around him, “Is that, you shouldn’t use that word. It’s a bad word.”
A puzzled look washed over Blue’s face and Jazz couldn’t stand it anymore, the laughter rang out as he nearly curled into himself, gasping.
“Bluestreak, please do not use that word again.” Prowl bit out, trying to sound all commanding, but his pinched expression gave away that the mech was fighting a raging battle against his own laughter.
Turning Prowl grabbed Jazz’s arm and spoke loudly, “We are going to ‘recharge’,” he enunciated the last word clearly to avoid ‘anymore’ confusion.
~-~
Jazz had yet to stop laughing as he lay on the berth, Prowl beside him smirking at his beloved. “I dunno which was funnier, ya face, Smokescreen’s or mine.”
Prowl released a small muffled laugh of his own as he pressed his lips against Jazz’s shoulder, “Blue’s face,” he spoke.
“I know,” Jazz giggled, “It was th’ look o’ innocence there.”
Prowl lost himself in his own laughter, Jazz rolling over and cuddling up against him.
“I can’t say that I’m happy with him knowing...that sort of...stuff.” Prowl shrugged the words out, Jazz smirking at the embarrassment colouring the bond.
“Well one of these days he’s gonna be knowin’ an’ doin’ ‘that’ sort o’ ‘stuff’.”
“No, he won’t.” Prowl replied. Turning his head to stare at Jazz, a serious expression crossing his face, “I have a very big gun, and I know how to use it.”
Jazz lost it; he curled himself up in a near ball of laughing metal with visions of Prowl threatening any suitors who came calling for Bluestreak, wielding a mighty cannon.
Finally his giggling subsided and he looked at his bond-mate, a smirk on his lips as he snuggled against Prowl. Meeting his lover’s gaze Jazz whispered huskily, “So...are you gonna frag daddy, then?”
Prowl let his own devilish smirk creep across his lips as he moved himself over Jazz. “Oh most certainly,” he murmured his tone dropping to a purr as he added, “Repeatedly.”