Only for You
Title: Only For You
Author: Mirage Shinkiro
Rating: T
Warnings: very light mech/mech, a.k.a. intimacy between androgynous and nonsexually reproducing but male-“pronoun’d” ‘bots.
Disclaimer: Transformers is the property of Hasbro, and although I wish I could make money off the TF franchise so I could be independently wealthy, I am not. Alas, I remain poor and am just borrowing the lovely robots.
Summary: For Christmas, Prowl gives a gift to the one mech he’d like to be closer to.
A/N, explanation: For the Dec. challenge on PxJ. The prompt: Day 26, Gift Giving
Only For You
Standing outside Jazz’s quarters, Prowl frowned to himself and tried to generate the courage to buzz the door chime. Thanks to the box he held in his hands, he was losing more ground than he was gaining.
Prowl wasn’t sure what to make of the human holiday Christmas, and he was even less sure what to think of the practice of showering gifts on loved ones. What he did know, though, was that as popular and well-loved as Jazz was, he didn’t maintain deep, meaningful friendships. Acquaintances he had plenty of, and he made them easily. Mechs joked that given the chance, Jazz could befriend a Decepticon. But he never let anyone close, never got so attached that their deaths would crush his spark.
However, Prowl was his exact opposite: he made few friends, and the ones he made were lifelong. No matter how many mechs he lost, he couldn’t change this fundamental aspect of himself. And this time, the mech who had drawn his care was Jazz. Therefore, he’d embarked upon the journey of gift-finding, although he had no way to wrap it.
With a mental curse over his cowardice, Prowl finally jammed the buzzer with his finger.
“Come in,” drawled a tired voice, and the door slid open.
Prowl stepped inside, surprised as always at the chaotic organization of the quarters. Jazz knew where everything was, but no one else would have known where to begin looking. Perhaps that was the point. “I suppose the correct phrase for the day is ‘Merry Christmas.’”
Sprawled out on his berth, Jazz didn’t look at him right away. “That’s right! Spike was tellin’ me about it.” His smile was halfhearted.
Knowing Jazz had just returned from a long recon mission, Prowl felt guilty for bothering him. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to drop off your present.”
Finally, Jazz glanced at him, and seeing the box, he sat up. “Hey, no fair. I don’t have anythin’ for ya.”
“That’s unnecessary.” Prowl walked over to the berth and held out the box.
Jazz patted the space by him. “Here, sit a klik.”
Handing over the box first, Prowl did as asked. He noticed that Jazz’s smile was brighter, but he still wasn’t his usual, cheerful self. This was what had given Prowl the courage to attempt a gift: Jazz had stopped putting on his mask around him.
Jazz pried open the box and pulled out a round disc. “Looks like the inside of a speaker.” He sounded intrigued.
“It’s a subwolfer. Spike tells me that it enhances music, and he claims you’ll love it.” Prowl only had two modes of gift giving. He either gave someone a practical gift or something they would truly love.
“Awesome!” Finally, Jazz’s smile bloomed to its usual epic proportions. However, as soon as it had come, it vanished. “But now I feel really bad for not thinkin’ to get ya anythin’. I mean, we have been hangin’ out a lot lately, but I didn’t think-”
Prowl held up one hand for silence. “Nonsense. I did it because you’re my friend.” I hope. “I don’t expect or require anything in return, I promise.” He paused, unsure whether to speak aloud his thoughts or not. “If you give me anything, let it simply be more of your friendship.”
Jazz grew still for a moment, then reached up and cupped Prowl’s cheek in his hand. “I think I’d like that,” he said softly.
Shocked, Prowl couldn’t react at first. The way Jazz’s visor had dimmed in addition to the tone of his voice suggested feelings beyond friendship. Prowl hadn’t even considered that Jazz might feel that way about him, but he wasn’t adverse to the idea, either. He smiled. “Me, too.”
The honest smile returned to Jazz’s face, and Prowl resolved to keep it there as much as possible.
Author: Mirage Shinkiro
Rating: T
Warnings: very light mech/mech, a.k.a. intimacy between androgynous and nonsexually reproducing but male-“pronoun’d” ‘bots.
Disclaimer: Transformers is the property of Hasbro, and although I wish I could make money off the TF franchise so I could be independently wealthy, I am not. Alas, I remain poor and am just borrowing the lovely robots.
Summary: For Christmas, Prowl gives a gift to the one mech he’d like to be closer to.
A/N, explanation: For the Dec. challenge on PxJ. The prompt: Day 26, Gift Giving
Only For You
Standing outside Jazz’s quarters, Prowl frowned to himself and tried to generate the courage to buzz the door chime. Thanks to the box he held in his hands, he was losing more ground than he was gaining.
Prowl wasn’t sure what to make of the human holiday Christmas, and he was even less sure what to think of the practice of showering gifts on loved ones. What he did know, though, was that as popular and well-loved as Jazz was, he didn’t maintain deep, meaningful friendships. Acquaintances he had plenty of, and he made them easily. Mechs joked that given the chance, Jazz could befriend a Decepticon. But he never let anyone close, never got so attached that their deaths would crush his spark.
However, Prowl was his exact opposite: he made few friends, and the ones he made were lifelong. No matter how many mechs he lost, he couldn’t change this fundamental aspect of himself. And this time, the mech who had drawn his care was Jazz. Therefore, he’d embarked upon the journey of gift-finding, although he had no way to wrap it.
With a mental curse over his cowardice, Prowl finally jammed the buzzer with his finger.
“Come in,” drawled a tired voice, and the door slid open.
Prowl stepped inside, surprised as always at the chaotic organization of the quarters. Jazz knew where everything was, but no one else would have known where to begin looking. Perhaps that was the point. “I suppose the correct phrase for the day is ‘Merry Christmas.’”
Sprawled out on his berth, Jazz didn’t look at him right away. “That’s right! Spike was tellin’ me about it.” His smile was halfhearted.
Knowing Jazz had just returned from a long recon mission, Prowl felt guilty for bothering him. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to drop off your present.”
Finally, Jazz glanced at him, and seeing the box, he sat up. “Hey, no fair. I don’t have anythin’ for ya.”
“That’s unnecessary.” Prowl walked over to the berth and held out the box.
Jazz patted the space by him. “Here, sit a klik.”
Handing over the box first, Prowl did as asked. He noticed that Jazz’s smile was brighter, but he still wasn’t his usual, cheerful self. This was what had given Prowl the courage to attempt a gift: Jazz had stopped putting on his mask around him.
Jazz pried open the box and pulled out a round disc. “Looks like the inside of a speaker.” He sounded intrigued.
“It’s a subwolfer. Spike tells me that it enhances music, and he claims you’ll love it.” Prowl only had two modes of gift giving. He either gave someone a practical gift or something they would truly love.
“Awesome!” Finally, Jazz’s smile bloomed to its usual epic proportions. However, as soon as it had come, it vanished. “But now I feel really bad for not thinkin’ to get ya anythin’. I mean, we have been hangin’ out a lot lately, but I didn’t think-”
Prowl held up one hand for silence. “Nonsense. I did it because you’re my friend.” I hope. “I don’t expect or require anything in return, I promise.” He paused, unsure whether to speak aloud his thoughts or not. “If you give me anything, let it simply be more of your friendship.”
Jazz grew still for a moment, then reached up and cupped Prowl’s cheek in his hand. “I think I’d like that,” he said softly.
Shocked, Prowl couldn’t react at first. The way Jazz’s visor had dimmed in addition to the tone of his voice suggested feelings beyond friendship. Prowl hadn’t even considered that Jazz might feel that way about him, but he wasn’t adverse to the idea, either. He smiled. “Me, too.”
The honest smile returned to Jazz’s face, and Prowl resolved to keep it there as much as possible.