Title: Keep Your Optics Open
Verse: Animated
Who: Jazz / Rodimus Prime
Rating: T
Warnings: None
For the tf_rare_pairing prompt: Rodimus Prime/Jazz - "Keep both optics open."
This would be my first fill, I'm terribly sorry if I got this post format wrong, please correct me if so? Hope these tags are okay.
Jazz was ready to drop the bow and give up. Slag, he hated ranged weapons. Jazz enjoyed nothing more than getting up close and personal when he had to take somebot down in a fight, focusing on the opponent and giving them a chance to surrender before he was left with no choice but to offline them.
A bowshot seemed so much more final to him, like it was removing the chance to redeem those he faced.
Of course, it might also have had something to do with the fact that he couldn't shoot the Allspark forsaken thing.
He set the energy bow down before him, leaning forwards and venting heavily. Through the visor he glared at the targets. He did just fine with his hand to hand combat, Sentinel was a glitchhead for sending him down here to-
“You look like you could use a servo.”
Jazz fought not to jump, but he did tense noticeably. Not many mechs could sneak up on him, fewer still lived to tell the tale. He turned to face the mech in question, a little surprised to see Rodimus there. Of course, who else would be offering to help him with a bow? Rodimus was never without his.
“...Yeah, sure mech. Don't see how I can get any worse.” It couldn't hurt to try, surely? And anything that got the Prime to smile like that was bound to be a good thing.
“Pick up the bow, turn around.”
It was so very easy to follow that order, Rodimus' voice soothing to his audials as he took it up and turned back to face the targets.
“Draw it back.”
He pulled back on the bow, freezing in place when he heard the Prime tut softly and move closer. Jazz's ventilations froze along with his chassis when Rodimus' servos began to correct his stance, guiding him to stand a little straighter, turning him a little to one side, lifting his arms just so.
Rodimus' servos moved again, making Jazz twitch when they moved over his own.
“Draw the bolt back until it could graze your cheek.” he heard murmured in his audial. Suppressing a shiver Jazz adjusted his draw, the servo around the metal of the bow shifting with silent guidance from the Prime. The Prime shifted again, servos sliding down Jazz's arms to position the Cyberninja's chassis once again.
Jazz was finding it hard to keep his internal fans on the lowest settings when those servos kept touching him, soft and light. It was hard to focus on the bow and bolt when he could focus on those hands instead, on the Prime's warm chassis just pressing against his back, of the warm vents of the other against his side.
“You have optics under that visor?” Rodimus was murmuring again, keeping his voice soft. Jazz barely had it in him to nod. “Disable the visor for this. Until you get the hang of it, it'll be easier with optics.”
A soft click later, Jazz's optics were bared to the empty range, the same soft blue as every other pair of Autobot optics in existence.
“Aim.”
Jazz offlined one of the optics to take aim at the target. He was stopped by a gentle pressure on his hip; Rodimus' servo.
“Keep both optics open.”
A tingle ran over Jazz's plating and he onlined the optic, retaking that aim.
“Vent in.”
He drew in air through his vents, picking up the scent of the Prime; the wax he'd used on his plating, the fresh smell of cleanser from the wash racks and something unique to Rodimus, something sweet and spicy all at once.
“Release.”
Upon the whispered command, Rodimus squeezed his hip again and Jazz released the bolt, sending it hurtling into the centre of the target.
“Good job.”
The praise sent tingles down his spinal strut and he couldn't help but press back against the Prime, lowering the bow. “Thanks...”
“You should come by more often, Jazz. I think you have a real talent for this.”
Jazz turned a little to face Rodimus, the Prime's servos still on his hips. “...Same time tomorrow?” he asked, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.
Rodimus just smiled, sending a databurst Jazz's way. “I have a better idea. Give me a few breems, meet me at that bar. We'll set up a schedule.”
Jazz had never been happier to set a schedule in his life cycle.