Of Bindings - A Ceremony and a Celebration
Title: Of Bindings - A Ceremony and a Celebration
'Verse: 2007 Transformers
Characters: Jazz. Prowl. Epps. Sideswipe. Ensemble.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
Jazz luxuriated in the kiss, smiling at the way Prowl breathed his name when they finally broke apart, the warmth of the tactician pressed against him working wonders at driving away the icy chill that had permeated his spark recently. He kissed Prowl on the cheek, then on the neck and on the shoulder before the doorwinged mech tugged him upwards so that the next one landed on his lips instead. They kissed some more, and somewhere along the line, they ended up flat on the berth, Jazz serving as Prowl’s pillow.
“I missed you.” The visored mech barely managed to catch the tactician’s barely audible statement as it was made into his plating. Jazz cycled air slowly, a hand petting the chevroned helm resting on his chest.
“So did I. Was planning on surprising you with an early return, but then I realised I couldn’t hold out for even one more second.”
Prowl clicked in amusement, followed by a gentle puff of laughter that brushed lightly against the silver mech’s plating, then curled closer, one arm coming to wrap around the saboteur’s middle before repeating his words, tone hushed.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Jazz’s reply was just as quiet, responding to every silent nuance of the tactician’s whisper, speaking of a separation by vast stretches of deep space for hundreds of vorns, one made worse by the uncertainty of battle and not being able to express that pain openly, needing to keep their connection hidden from everyone else. He sighed, reaching out to interlace his fingers with the doorwinged mech’s.
“I’m sorry for being stupid about the bond. About us. I know you. I shouldn’t have had any doubts.”
“You are an Ops mech. I would be more concerned if you had leapt into something like this so recklessly.”
“There is such a thing as over thinking things though. I nearly lost you because of that. You were so badly hurt, and we had no bond to pull you back any more.”
“You would have found a way.” The arm about him tightened gently, and the Solstice chuckled.
“… Yeah. I would have. And… you’d have fought your way back from the Matrix too. Stubborn mech. Primus wouldn’t have known what hit him… Prowl?”
“Yes Jazz?”
“M’glad you don’t give up. On anything… And especially not on me.”
“I am a tactician. We know how to bide our time, especially when it comes to obtaining a desired outcome.”
Jazz didn’t answer; having fallen offline at last, lulled there both by his own exhaustion, emotional and physical, and the comforting presence of his beloved. Prowl smirked fondly at him before joining the saboteur in recharge.
= = =
Planning a bonding ceremony was surprisingly straightforward. Or, it would have been if they’d still been on Cybertron. Bonding, whether sparks were involved or not, was at its core an acknowledgement that two bots wanted to be with each other forever. Prowl and Jazz could have just gone to their Prime, have him nod in approval and bless them in Primus’s name, wishing them well in their new life together and be done with it. Either Optimus or Prowl would then make the notation in the data records to reflect the bonded status of both tactician and Ops mech, and that was all that was needed.
But being on Earth, things understandably got a little more complicated.
Firstly, as predicted, the Autobots and their human friends wanted to celebrate the occasion. It was understandable; after the long war the Cybertronians had fought their bonding was more than just a simple joining, it was also a tribute to life and happiness. And so a party was quickly being thrown together with the kind of cooperation and efficiency that Prowl wished could be replicated for more serious events.
Secondly, there were humans involved now, and with a million cultures and their assorted customs to choose from, lively arguments raged across the base as to how the ceremony itself should be conducted, with Optimus as the obvious choice of officiating bot dragged into the centre of it all to play referee. Not that he was much help, given the simplicity of Cybertronian bondings. Jazz just shook his head and hustled Prowl far, far away from the discussions before the tactician fried a logic circuit.
Thirdly, someone had let slip about the practice of throwing a bachelor party (Ratchet was planning on hunting down whoever’d done so, clearly they were malfunctioning and in need of repairs or medical treatment). After more discussion as to which mech should be the one to have one, the problem was solved by Mikeala pointing out that technically, both Prowl and Jazz had already been bonded once before and so they didn’t count as bachelors (the fact that she glared down anyone who dared protest didn’t mean a thing, really).
Eventually, the two mechs waded into the fray, working together as they’d done countless times before, picking out significant details from human bondings to embellish their own traditions, coming up with something that honoured their new home while still paying homage to their old one. This was not to say that some individuals didn’t keep trying to convince them to add a few more… ‘details’.
“Sideswipe, tie those cans onto my person and I promise you that you will end up having to fish them out of your exhausts.”
A whirlwind of preparations and planning later, the day of their bonding finally arrived, all bright sunlight and cool breezes as they stood before the Prime, surrounded by friends and comrades, both human and Autobot. The large mech beamed at them, joy suffusing every word of his speech as he welcomed the crowd and blessed the union of his SIC and his Head of Ops, declaring them bonded with a broad smile.
They were kissing before Optimus could tell them to do so, heedless to the catcalls and laughter about them. Then, still holding hands, the pair were escorted by a veritable motorcade to the party awaiting their arrival to start.
= = =
The festivities had been going on for a while before a certain Technical Sergeant sidled up to a certain frontliner with a smile that intrigued Sideswipe with the sheer amount of mischief that it promised.
“You know, it’s a human custom to tease the newlyweds on the first night.”
“Tease… how?” The mech looked nonchalant, but let his interest show in his tone. Epps crossed his arms, leaning back as casual as if he was discussing the weather.
“Oh… harmless stuff like booby trapping the door to their room, leaving a surprise or two on their bed, that kind of thing. When Will tied the knot, we stole the brand new Mrs Lennox and made him track her down using only little notes we left for him. When I got hitched, he repaid the favour by doing everything in his power to keep me and my wife from making it to our hotel room.”
Sideswipe smirked. “Stealing Prowl or Jazz is gonna be difficult, and I couldn’t hack their door if I dared. But that last one could work. Lemme go recruit a few ‘helpers’, be right back.”
The mech left, and Bumblebee wandered by a moment later with Sam and Mikaela, both young people laughing as the Camaro played a familiar sound clip. Epps raised an eyebrow at them and Sam shrugged.
“Optimus refused to use it, no matter how we tried to convince him that it was an authentic blessing. So we figured we’d play it for them during the party. Have you seen Jazz or Prowl?”
The older man shook his head, then scanned the crowd.
“There, by Optimus. Hey, do me a favour and stall them if they try to leave, ‘kay?”
They blinked at him, then Bumblebee played a Pink Panther snippet and they snickered conspiratorially before crossing the room to where their targets were located. Epps watched as they caught Jazz and Prowl’s attention, drawing a laugh from the silver mech as a sound clip from the scout proclaimed the wonders of ‘mawage’. Suddenly, Sideswipe reappeared with a smug grin. He grinned back, and watched as their plan was set into motion.
= = =
The plan was working. Prowl had been separated from Jazz and was embroiled in a discussion with Captain Lennox that he couldn’t seem to excuse himself from. Jazz was stuck with Blaster, who was deep into a rant about a particular singer whose music he absolutely loathed. They got free of their companions, only to find another waiting to monopolise them almost instantaneously.
And as the day grew later and the sun began setting, the two mechs started glancing at each other more and more often, finally outmanoeuvring their ‘chaperones’ to stand together once more. Epps patted Sideswipe on the leg when the mech grumbled at the first part of their plot being countered. Time for Phase Two.
They made their way over to Prowl and Jazz, hunting the pair around the room as they circulated, accepting congratulations and well wishes as they were offered. Human and frontliner just gotten close enough to call out to the two mechs when the music that had been playing in the background suddenly rose to top volume, blaring out from the speakers and startling everyone. A puzzled Blaster was by the sound equipment’s side in a flash, and as suddenly as it had happened, the volume died, going back to its previous level.
Before he even turned back, Epps knew what he would find. Sighing, he did so, noting the distinct lack of one Prowl and one Jazz before he grinned ruefully at Sideswipe, who was plucking a sticky note off his plating.
“What’s it say?”
The frontliner cycled air in resignation. “ 'Three things you forgot. One, I’m an Ops mech. Two, Prowl’s a tactician. Three, we know where you sleep. Enjoy the evening. Jazz.' ”
'Verse: 2007 Transformers
Characters: Jazz. Prowl. Epps. Sideswipe. Ensemble.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
Jazz luxuriated in the kiss, smiling at the way Prowl breathed his name when they finally broke apart, the warmth of the tactician pressed against him working wonders at driving away the icy chill that had permeated his spark recently. He kissed Prowl on the cheek, then on the neck and on the shoulder before the doorwinged mech tugged him upwards so that the next one landed on his lips instead. They kissed some more, and somewhere along the line, they ended up flat on the berth, Jazz serving as Prowl’s pillow.
“I missed you.” The visored mech barely managed to catch the tactician’s barely audible statement as it was made into his plating. Jazz cycled air slowly, a hand petting the chevroned helm resting on his chest.
“So did I. Was planning on surprising you with an early return, but then I realised I couldn’t hold out for even one more second.”
Prowl clicked in amusement, followed by a gentle puff of laughter that brushed lightly against the silver mech’s plating, then curled closer, one arm coming to wrap around the saboteur’s middle before repeating his words, tone hushed.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Jazz’s reply was just as quiet, responding to every silent nuance of the tactician’s whisper, speaking of a separation by vast stretches of deep space for hundreds of vorns, one made worse by the uncertainty of battle and not being able to express that pain openly, needing to keep their connection hidden from everyone else. He sighed, reaching out to interlace his fingers with the doorwinged mech’s.
“I’m sorry for being stupid about the bond. About us. I know you. I shouldn’t have had any doubts.”
“You are an Ops mech. I would be more concerned if you had leapt into something like this so recklessly.”
“There is such a thing as over thinking things though. I nearly lost you because of that. You were so badly hurt, and we had no bond to pull you back any more.”
“You would have found a way.” The arm about him tightened gently, and the Solstice chuckled.
“… Yeah. I would have. And… you’d have fought your way back from the Matrix too. Stubborn mech. Primus wouldn’t have known what hit him… Prowl?”
“Yes Jazz?”
“M’glad you don’t give up. On anything… And especially not on me.”
“I am a tactician. We know how to bide our time, especially when it comes to obtaining a desired outcome.”
Jazz didn’t answer; having fallen offline at last, lulled there both by his own exhaustion, emotional and physical, and the comforting presence of his beloved. Prowl smirked fondly at him before joining the saboteur in recharge.
= = =
Planning a bonding ceremony was surprisingly straightforward. Or, it would have been if they’d still been on Cybertron. Bonding, whether sparks were involved or not, was at its core an acknowledgement that two bots wanted to be with each other forever. Prowl and Jazz could have just gone to their Prime, have him nod in approval and bless them in Primus’s name, wishing them well in their new life together and be done with it. Either Optimus or Prowl would then make the notation in the data records to reflect the bonded status of both tactician and Ops mech, and that was all that was needed.
But being on Earth, things understandably got a little more complicated.
Firstly, as predicted, the Autobots and their human friends wanted to celebrate the occasion. It was understandable; after the long war the Cybertronians had fought their bonding was more than just a simple joining, it was also a tribute to life and happiness. And so a party was quickly being thrown together with the kind of cooperation and efficiency that Prowl wished could be replicated for more serious events.
Secondly, there were humans involved now, and with a million cultures and their assorted customs to choose from, lively arguments raged across the base as to how the ceremony itself should be conducted, with Optimus as the obvious choice of officiating bot dragged into the centre of it all to play referee. Not that he was much help, given the simplicity of Cybertronian bondings. Jazz just shook his head and hustled Prowl far, far away from the discussions before the tactician fried a logic circuit.
Thirdly, someone had let slip about the practice of throwing a bachelor party (Ratchet was planning on hunting down whoever’d done so, clearly they were malfunctioning and in need of repairs or medical treatment). After more discussion as to which mech should be the one to have one, the problem was solved by Mikeala pointing out that technically, both Prowl and Jazz had already been bonded once before and so they didn’t count as bachelors (the fact that she glared down anyone who dared protest didn’t mean a thing, really).
Eventually, the two mechs waded into the fray, working together as they’d done countless times before, picking out significant details from human bondings to embellish their own traditions, coming up with something that honoured their new home while still paying homage to their old one. This was not to say that some individuals didn’t keep trying to convince them to add a few more… ‘details’.
“Sideswipe, tie those cans onto my person and I promise you that you will end up having to fish them out of your exhausts.”
A whirlwind of preparations and planning later, the day of their bonding finally arrived, all bright sunlight and cool breezes as they stood before the Prime, surrounded by friends and comrades, both human and Autobot. The large mech beamed at them, joy suffusing every word of his speech as he welcomed the crowd and blessed the union of his SIC and his Head of Ops, declaring them bonded with a broad smile.
They were kissing before Optimus could tell them to do so, heedless to the catcalls and laughter about them. Then, still holding hands, the pair were escorted by a veritable motorcade to the party awaiting their arrival to start.
= = =
The festivities had been going on for a while before a certain Technical Sergeant sidled up to a certain frontliner with a smile that intrigued Sideswipe with the sheer amount of mischief that it promised.
“You know, it’s a human custom to tease the newlyweds on the first night.”
“Tease… how?” The mech looked nonchalant, but let his interest show in his tone. Epps crossed his arms, leaning back as casual as if he was discussing the weather.
“Oh… harmless stuff like booby trapping the door to their room, leaving a surprise or two on their bed, that kind of thing. When Will tied the knot, we stole the brand new Mrs Lennox and made him track her down using only little notes we left for him. When I got hitched, he repaid the favour by doing everything in his power to keep me and my wife from making it to our hotel room.”
Sideswipe smirked. “Stealing Prowl or Jazz is gonna be difficult, and I couldn’t hack their door if I dared. But that last one could work. Lemme go recruit a few ‘helpers’, be right back.”
The mech left, and Bumblebee wandered by a moment later with Sam and Mikaela, both young people laughing as the Camaro played a familiar sound clip. Epps raised an eyebrow at them and Sam shrugged.
“Optimus refused to use it, no matter how we tried to convince him that it was an authentic blessing. So we figured we’d play it for them during the party. Have you seen Jazz or Prowl?”
The older man shook his head, then scanned the crowd.
“There, by Optimus. Hey, do me a favour and stall them if they try to leave, ‘kay?”
They blinked at him, then Bumblebee played a Pink Panther snippet and they snickered conspiratorially before crossing the room to where their targets were located. Epps watched as they caught Jazz and Prowl’s attention, drawing a laugh from the silver mech as a sound clip from the scout proclaimed the wonders of ‘mawage’. Suddenly, Sideswipe reappeared with a smug grin. He grinned back, and watched as their plan was set into motion.
= = =
The plan was working. Prowl had been separated from Jazz and was embroiled in a discussion with Captain Lennox that he couldn’t seem to excuse himself from. Jazz was stuck with Blaster, who was deep into a rant about a particular singer whose music he absolutely loathed. They got free of their companions, only to find another waiting to monopolise them almost instantaneously.
And as the day grew later and the sun began setting, the two mechs started glancing at each other more and more often, finally outmanoeuvring their ‘chaperones’ to stand together once more. Epps patted Sideswipe on the leg when the mech grumbled at the first part of their plot being countered. Time for Phase Two.
They made their way over to Prowl and Jazz, hunting the pair around the room as they circulated, accepting congratulations and well wishes as they were offered. Human and frontliner just gotten close enough to call out to the two mechs when the music that had been playing in the background suddenly rose to top volume, blaring out from the speakers and startling everyone. A puzzled Blaster was by the sound equipment’s side in a flash, and as suddenly as it had happened, the volume died, going back to its previous level.
Before he even turned back, Epps knew what he would find. Sighing, he did so, noting the distinct lack of one Prowl and one Jazz before he grinned ruefully at Sideswipe, who was plucking a sticky note off his plating.
“What’s it say?”
The frontliner cycled air in resignation. “ 'Three things you forgot. One, I’m an Ops mech. Two, Prowl’s a tactician. Three, we know where you sleep. Enjoy the evening. Jazz.' ”