Celebration of Life, a Transformers G1 one shot
Title: Celebration of Life
Universe: G1
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mech Smoochies
Characters/Pairing: Jazz/Bluestreak
Notes: takes place in the same 'verse as Words of Support, but many years into the future. written for the july 2010 challenge at tf_rare_pairing
Jazz looked around the small, dimly lit room in surprise. He’d agreed to meet Bluestreak at this restaurant-not that Cybertronians needed those, precisely, but it was a fad-but he hadn’t expected there to be no one but the sniper present.
“Blue, what’s up?” He sat down across from the younger mech at the only other chair at the table. “I thought you said we were celebrating?”
“We are.” Bluestreak slid a menu of confections available from the establishment across the table to him. “We’re celebrating being alive to see the end of all this.”
“Blue, there ain’t much to celebrate. Aside from this base, Cybertron is nothing but ruins, most of our friends are dead and gone and the Decepticons have turned pirate at the fringes of the galaxy.” Jazz sighed as he toyed with the menu.
“But we’re both still here. Isn’t that enough?” The sniper’s optics were serious-and strangely hopeful-when he looked up at the older mech.
Jazz sighed again. “Look, Blue it isn’t that. It’s just… we’ve lost so much lately that I’m not feeling it.”
“I know, Jazz. That’s why I picked this place.” He gestured to the dark, empty room. “Someplace where we could just relax and celebrate what’s still here with good food and good company. I’m… I’m not up to dancing and partying right now either.”
“Right.” The saboteur gave the younger mech a small smile. “So, just you and me and some good energon confections, huh? They got anything with those little copper slivers ‘Jack used to put in his goodies?”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
They had definitely had too much energon and too many confections. The saboteur and the sniper left the restaurant in much better spirits than they had come in with and over-energized to the point of having to hold each other up to walk. Bluestreak had one arm slung comfortably around Jazz’s waist, a gesture that the older mech had been happy enough to return.
“Jazz, can I tell you something serious?” The smile on the younger mech’s face belied the nature of the question.
“Blue, you can tell me anything. You know that.” Jazz returned the smile.
Bluestreak nodded and used the arm around Jazz’s waist to swing the saboteur around so he could look him in the face-a move that would have been fairly impossible if Jazz had been sober. “I love you, Jazz.”
Jazz started to make a light-hearted reply, but he was stopped by the suddenly serious expression on the younger mech’s face. “Blue, that’s…”
“Don’t say it isn’t possible or that I’m too young.” Bluestreak looked away from the older mech’s gaze. “Or that I should have been with Prowl. The way I felt for Prowl was nothing like this.”
“I was gonna say that’s a lot more serious than I was expecting.” Jazz moved a hand to cup the sniper’s cheek plate. “But it ain’t entirely unexpected. We been together a long time.”
“But you don’t feel the same way. It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to.”
“I didn’t say that either. But I want you to sleep of this over-charge and then see if you’re still willing to say it to me.”
“Okay.” Blue’s response was soft, but not angry or confrontational.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
They slept in Bluestreak’s apartment. It became clear not long after their conversation that neither of them would be able to walk any further than the younger mech’s home, and Jazz wasn’t up to arguing the subject. He dropped into a strutless heap on Blue’s sofa as soon as they were through the door. The sniper had made it to his recharge berth before the overcharge forced him offline.
The sniper woke to the sound of his wash rack running. For a long moment he couldn’t remember why someone would be using his shower. Then his words to Jazz the night before came back in a rush.
He put a hand over his optics in despair. Jazz would probably never want to associate with him again. And he would much rather be the other mech’s tag-along baby brother than that. He shouldn’t have said anything at all, and now the words couldn’t be taken back.
After a few minutes, he heard the washracks turn off. With a sigh, the sniper sat up. There was only so long he could put the confrontation off. With a sigh, Bluestreak stood and made his way into the living area.
Jazz was on the sofa, scrolling through a data pad. “Morning, Blue.”
“Morning, Jazz.” Carefully, not sure of his reception, he sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “About last night…”
“Mech, I’ve had mechs propose bonding to me under the influence of high grade.” The saboteur looked up from the data pad. “I ain’t gonna be upset at a profession of love after a few too many energon confections.”
“You don’t hate me?”
“Blue, I could never hate you, so stop looking like I kicked your favorite turbo-pup.” Jazz gave him a gentle smile. “We been together too long for me to be able to hate you anyway.”
Before he finished processing Jazz’s words, Bluestreak was moving with all the speed and impulsiveness of someone a tenth his age. He pulled the older mech into a hug.
“I really do love you, Jazz. I just didn’t want to hurt our relationship by saying it if you didn’t feel the same way, you know? It was better to have a big brother who cared than nothing at all and-“
Jazz cut him off by turning his head and kissing him soundly.
“You ain’t been just the little brother for a long time,” the saboteur said softly when they broke apart. “Just never seemed right to do anything, when I helped Prowl raise you. Bit different now though, knowing what I know.”
“Jazz…” Blue leaned forward and kissed him again.
Universe: G1
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mech Smoochies
Characters/Pairing: Jazz/Bluestreak
Notes: takes place in the same 'verse as Words of Support, but many years into the future. written for the july 2010 challenge at tf_rare_pairing
Jazz looked around the small, dimly lit room in surprise. He’d agreed to meet Bluestreak at this restaurant-not that Cybertronians needed those, precisely, but it was a fad-but he hadn’t expected there to be no one but the sniper present.
“Blue, what’s up?” He sat down across from the younger mech at the only other chair at the table. “I thought you said we were celebrating?”
“We are.” Bluestreak slid a menu of confections available from the establishment across the table to him. “We’re celebrating being alive to see the end of all this.”
“Blue, there ain’t much to celebrate. Aside from this base, Cybertron is nothing but ruins, most of our friends are dead and gone and the Decepticons have turned pirate at the fringes of the galaxy.” Jazz sighed as he toyed with the menu.
“But we’re both still here. Isn’t that enough?” The sniper’s optics were serious-and strangely hopeful-when he looked up at the older mech.
Jazz sighed again. “Look, Blue it isn’t that. It’s just… we’ve lost so much lately that I’m not feeling it.”
“I know, Jazz. That’s why I picked this place.” He gestured to the dark, empty room. “Someplace where we could just relax and celebrate what’s still here with good food and good company. I’m… I’m not up to dancing and partying right now either.”
“Right.” The saboteur gave the younger mech a small smile. “So, just you and me and some good energon confections, huh? They got anything with those little copper slivers ‘Jack used to put in his goodies?”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
They had definitely had too much energon and too many confections. The saboteur and the sniper left the restaurant in much better spirits than they had come in with and over-energized to the point of having to hold each other up to walk. Bluestreak had one arm slung comfortably around Jazz’s waist, a gesture that the older mech had been happy enough to return.
“Jazz, can I tell you something serious?” The smile on the younger mech’s face belied the nature of the question.
“Blue, you can tell me anything. You know that.” Jazz returned the smile.
Bluestreak nodded and used the arm around Jazz’s waist to swing the saboteur around so he could look him in the face-a move that would have been fairly impossible if Jazz had been sober. “I love you, Jazz.”
Jazz started to make a light-hearted reply, but he was stopped by the suddenly serious expression on the younger mech’s face. “Blue, that’s…”
“Don’t say it isn’t possible or that I’m too young.” Bluestreak looked away from the older mech’s gaze. “Or that I should have been with Prowl. The way I felt for Prowl was nothing like this.”
“I was gonna say that’s a lot more serious than I was expecting.” Jazz moved a hand to cup the sniper’s cheek plate. “But it ain’t entirely unexpected. We been together a long time.”
“But you don’t feel the same way. It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to.”
“I didn’t say that either. But I want you to sleep of this over-charge and then see if you’re still willing to say it to me.”
“Okay.” Blue’s response was soft, but not angry or confrontational.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
They slept in Bluestreak’s apartment. It became clear not long after their conversation that neither of them would be able to walk any further than the younger mech’s home, and Jazz wasn’t up to arguing the subject. He dropped into a strutless heap on Blue’s sofa as soon as they were through the door. The sniper had made it to his recharge berth before the overcharge forced him offline.
The sniper woke to the sound of his wash rack running. For a long moment he couldn’t remember why someone would be using his shower. Then his words to Jazz the night before came back in a rush.
He put a hand over his optics in despair. Jazz would probably never want to associate with him again. And he would much rather be the other mech’s tag-along baby brother than that. He shouldn’t have said anything at all, and now the words couldn’t be taken back.
After a few minutes, he heard the washracks turn off. With a sigh, the sniper sat up. There was only so long he could put the confrontation off. With a sigh, Bluestreak stood and made his way into the living area.
Jazz was on the sofa, scrolling through a data pad. “Morning, Blue.”
“Morning, Jazz.” Carefully, not sure of his reception, he sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “About last night…”
“Mech, I’ve had mechs propose bonding to me under the influence of high grade.” The saboteur looked up from the data pad. “I ain’t gonna be upset at a profession of love after a few too many energon confections.”
“You don’t hate me?”
“Blue, I could never hate you, so stop looking like I kicked your favorite turbo-pup.” Jazz gave him a gentle smile. “We been together too long for me to be able to hate you anyway.”
Before he finished processing Jazz’s words, Bluestreak was moving with all the speed and impulsiveness of someone a tenth his age. He pulled the older mech into a hug.
“I really do love you, Jazz. I just didn’t want to hurt our relationship by saying it if you didn’t feel the same way, you know? It was better to have a big brother who cared than nothing at all and-“
Jazz cut him off by turning his head and kissing him soundly.
“You ain’t been just the little brother for a long time,” the saboteur said softly when they broke apart. “Just never seemed right to do anything, when I helped Prowl raise you. Bit different now though, knowing what I know.”
“Jazz…” Blue leaned forward and kissed him again.