Seeing And Believing 1/?
Yes, I know I should be working on the next chapter of Lifeline, however this bunny decided to wake up and claw it's way out of the grave and back into my brain. I started writing this back in 2008. Then it stalled for over a year and sat rotting in my hard-drive until I finally picked it back up last month. Since then, I've made considerable progress, and it actually looks like being finished some time this month. So in the meantime, have the first chapter...
Verse: G1
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, bit of Optimus
Pairings: Prowl/Jazz
Rating: R for non-explicit smuts
Warnings: gropings and touches in a closet?
Summary: When you're as different as Prowl and Jazz are, working together becomes an interesting prospect
Notes: This was written at a time when just about everyone was debating the matter of Jazz's optics/visor. The theories were everything from them being green/gold/magenta/neon orange, to being Decepticon-red, to him being blind, to the visor being his visual center. I never bought into any of those. So this was written partly to counter all those theories.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.
But enough of my rambling
Seeing and Believing
Chapter 1
Alarms mostly served to prove to Prowl just how different he and Jazz were. He was prone to habitually waking up a good ten minutes before their chime went off, whereas Jazz constantly woke up a good ten minutes after it had sounded. It wasn’t that Jazz was lazy - not most of the time anyway - it was more that he was quite the deep sleeper.
Once he fell into a deep sleep, nothing short of the volcano erupting would be able to wake him, and woe to the mech that ever did rouse him prematurely. Jazz had the uncanny tendency to lash out most uncharacteristically - with a limb if need be, if the other was in striking range - when woken from a deep recharge.
Jolted up by the klaxons made him particularly vicious in battle, and many a Decepticon squadron leader had been forced into re-thinking his strategy of attacking at some Primus-forsaken hour. The saboteur blamed these particular traits on his function as a Special Operations agent.
Prowl on the other hand, was a notoriously light sleeper, being easily roused in a much better temper than his black-and-white counterpart. It was probably due to the fact that he spent most of his time confined to the Ark and had the option of taking a short, quick nap if time allowed - something that his more sociable partner didn’t like doing, preferring to spend his waking hours being active.
It was no wonder, then, that he slept to deeply when the time came for him to recharge.
Prowl gazed fondly at the sleeping mech beside him, listening to the gentle hum of internal systems as, one by one, they started to power up again. Prowl let the process take its time, knowing his lover would wake up on his own in good time, though he couldn’t resist leaning closer and inhaling the faint lemony scent that still clung to the other mech.
Jazz shifted slightly then and Prowl kept still, looking on in amusement as he wriggled and fidgeted in an attempt to get comfortable again. Being fairly used to his partner’s quirks by now, Prowl was not surprised when Jazz draped an arm over his waist and nestled his head under his chin.
The tactician mentally rolled his optics and lightly rubbed the arm around his waist, looking down at the other and watching the currently-dark visor for any sign of light. Sometimes it fascinated him to see his partner wake up. It would start with a flicker of light under the visor and progress to a soft blue glow before brightening to its usual pale blue shine.
The visor was an object of mystery to Prowl. For all the time Prowl had been together with him, and the even longer time Prowl had known him, he had never once seen Jazz remove it. During one of their more intimate moments together he had tried to remove it, only to find his hand firmly clasped within Jazz’s and gently guided away.
“I’m sorry, Prowl,” he’d said then. “But I need to keep at least one thing to myself.”
Prowl had never pushed the matter after that, though he had certainly been curious. He’d pondered for days after that about why Jazz wore it, until one day the saboteur just told him.
He was not blind, nor was he going blind; he was not created without optics; his optics would not fire laser beams if he took off the visor. All those were just rumors and gossip. No, his optics were functioning perfectly. The visor was just there to protect them from his own light attack. Couldn’t use light to blind your opponent and have it affect you as well, after all. Besides, it looked cool and logically, it all made sense.
It was then that Prowl realized that Jazz was very much awake, and was looking at him quizzically. Prowl offered him an easy smile and gently stroked his head.
Engine purring, Jazz asked, “What brings this on?”
“Ah, I was just thinking,” Prowl replied. “You know how I am.”
“Only too well,” he said. “What were you thinking of?”
“Why, you of course. Who else would I think of?”
“Oh, I dunno.” Jazz smirked. “I’ve heard rumors.”
“Perhaps you should not be gossiping in the lounge so much.”
“But I need my daily allowance of gossip.” He gave a seemingly nonchalant shrug. “You know how I am.”
It was Prowl’s turn to smirk. “Oh yes, every bit of you.”
Jazz grinned. “EVERY bit?”
“Of course.”
“Prove it.”
“Don’t dare me, lover.”
“I dare ya, babe”
Prowl sighed dramatically. “It won’t be my fault if you show up late for morning briefing.”
“That’s alright. I know you’ll cover for me.”
Primus, the mech could be insufferable sometimes, but Prowl knew he wouldn’t have wanted him any other way. He suspected Jazz knew as well, which was probably why he spent much of his time trying to get under Prowl’s armor - sometimes literally - but two could play at that game.
Like a cat moving in on its prey, Prowl pounced!
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Optimus Prime looked up as Prowl strolled into his office with a smug little smile on his face, looking for all intents and purposes like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, and conspicuous by his absence was the other half of the black-and-white pair.
“Where’s Jazz?” he asked.
Prowl gave an easy shrug. “Oh, he’ll be along soon. Just needs to sort himself out.”
Prime held up a hand. “I don’t want to know, but at least tell me he’ll be coherent enough to understand today’s briefing.”
“As long as it’s nothing too complex, he should be fine.”
The Autobot leader visibly cringed. “Now I really don’t want to know, but I will say that you, Prowl, are evil.”
Prowl merely smiled and eased himself into a chair while they waited for Jazz to arrive. Sure enough, a few moments later, a very disheveled saboteur made his appearance, ready with a string of excuses as to why he was late, which died in his vocalizer the minute he looked over Prime’s shoulder and saw Prowl smirking.
“Oh, you are so goin’ down, man.” Jazz advanced on him.
Prime placed a large hand on the smaller mech’s shoulder and used his considerable strength to hold him back.
“Let it go, Jazz,” he said.
“But y’don’t know what he did!”
“No, and I would rather not know.”
“I told you not to dare me,” Prowl said.
“You were gonna jump me anyway,” Jazz replied. “Y’know ya can't keep your hands off me for too long.”
Prowl raised an optic ridge. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I don’t. I have you to do it for me.”
“Like I did just now?’’
“If ya wanna call a sneak attack flattery, sure.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“I would’ve if my mouth hadn’t been occupied.”
Prime sat down at his desk with a groan. “If we could perhaps get down to business?”
He was slightly amused by their banter and would have let them go on if for nothing else than to see just how far they would take it, but there was work to be done, and he wouldn’t have called his two best officers in otherwise.
“Of course, Prime,” Prowl said, glad for the change of topic.
Jazz dropped into a chair with a look to Prowl that said they would definitely be settling this at some later point in time. Prowl matched the look with one of his own - the one that had “bring it” written all over it.
“Oh, I’ll bring it alright,” Jazz muttered.
“Right, so our scouts brought back a few reports,” Prime said out loud, trying to hold their attention. “And it appears that we may have a Decepticon problem-.”
“Man, when DON’T we have a ‘con problem?” Jazz asked.
“ -a Decepticon problem at a humans’ dig site,” Prime finished, with a look that dared Jazz to interrupt him again.
“An archeological dig? But why?” Prowl asked.
“Aw c’mon, do the math. What do ya find at one of those digs?” Jazz asked.
“Dinosaur fossils I believe. Not unlike the remains we found in this mountain.” Suddenly, Prowl’s expression shifted from analysis to solution. “Please don’t tell me - they’re trying to obtain fossil fuels?”
“Bingo!” Jazz grinned. “That took ya a while, man. Sure your li’l flattery session didn’t affect ya, too?”
Prowl was thankful that the Transformer version of a blush wasn’t as easily detected or noticed as the human one was. Prime simply shook his head at them.
“It’s either that or they may be attempting to build a dinosaur-robot army of their own. The skeleton they found was almost complete,” he said. “Thankfully, the humans managed to escape with minimal injuries.”
“But why not just go to a museum and scan one of those remains instead?” Jazz asked. “Why go through all the trouble transporting a dig site?”
“Too obvious,” Prowl replied. “There was always the off-chance that we’d be alerted and arrive there to stop them before they were able to scan anything. Dig sites are usually in remote locations and land access isn't always available. It would take the humans a while to contact us - as it did - and would be rather hard for us to reach them in turn.
Jazz rubbed his chin with a finger. “Or maybe the local museum don’t have the kind of dinosaur skeleton they want.”
Prowl looked at him, then regarded Prime. “Do we know what species the fossil belonged to?”
Prime picked up a datapad and scanned through it for a moment. “The scientists were unearthing what they believed to be a raptor skeleton before the Decepticons attacked. They were planning on taking it back to their laboratory for an official identification.”
“Raptors, eh?” Jazz rubbed his chin.
“You know of them?” Prowl asked.
“Only what Hound told me about them when he was on his dinosaur kick, back when we were building the Dinobots,” he replied.
“And what did he tell you?” asked Prime.
“They’re pack hunters, usually go round in twos or threes to hunt their prey, and they’ve got these claws they use t’slash open other dinosaurs’ thick hides.”
“And just imagine what a robotic version of that creature could do with those claws,” Prowl said. “Or a pack of them.”
“Well that explains the theft.” Prime sighed. “An army of robotic raptors is not something I look forward to.”
“So what do ya want us t’do?” Jazz asked.
“Any ideas, Prowl?” Prime asked.
“Well the most obvious course of action would be to get those fossils back and destroy whatever blueprints they may have right now,” the tactician said. “Storming the Nemesis would be futile, but perhaps there are other ways to get on board.” He looked at Jazz.
Jazz’s face was the picture of innocence. “They’re gonna need materials to start building their little raptor army. Metals and the like. I’ll send the guys out to do some recon around the local manufacturing plants. Can't let ‘em just go round stealing from humans.”
Prime let out a small chuckle. “I am very glad I have you two on my side, I hope you know.”
“Oh, we would make rather bad Decepticons,” Prowl said dryly. “They’re too illogical.”
“Yeah, and we’re far too angelic to even attempt anything evil,” Jazz added. “Now, here’s what we’ll do.”
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“You are quite ingenious,” Prowl murmured, as he carefully backed up in the dark.
“Why thanks, Prowl,” Jazz replied. “Though I’ll admit it’s not one of my more creative ideas.”
“There are risks, yes, but if done carefully I believe we can succeed.”
“Well of course we can succeed. Just have to make sure no one catches us.”
A moment of silence passed during which Prowl stopped moving and felt Jazz press up closer to him. Dark was an understatement. The only light they had was the faint glow of their optics; and it did unnerve Prowl a little in that the risk of getting caught was actually quite high.
“And what do you plan on doing if we do get caught before we accomplish our goal?”
“I’ll worry about that when it happens. Relax Prowl.”
The tactician took a breath - unnecessary really, considering he didn’t really need to breathe - and tried to calm himself, even as Jazz placed an assuring hand on his forearm. Perhaps Jazz was right. He needed to be calm and rational and trust his partner.
“I still think-.”
“Primus! Am I gonna have t’kiss ya to get ya to relax?!” Jazz cut him off.
Another moment passed, then,
“Jazz, I was referring to the mission.”
The saboteur shifted. “Oh.”
“What did you think I was talking about? The storage closet we’re currently in?”
“Heh, well can ya blame me?” Even in the dark Prowl could picture the flustered look on Jazz’s face as he tried to come up with a dignified excuse. “I was tryin’ t’focus on gettin’ ya comfy.”
“I did suggest we do this in our quarters.”
“Yeah, but this is a lot more excitin’. Never know who might walk in.” Jazz recovered and trailed a hand up the back of Prowl’s thigh.
“That’s what worries me.” Prowl tried to suppress a shiver at the touch even as his doors gave a twitch.
Jazz trailed his mouth along the tactician’s neck. “Will y’stop worryin’. No one uses this closet and it was a lot closer than our room; and this way we don’t need an excuse t’go back to it.”
Prowl moaned softly and cupped the back of Jazz’s neck with one hand, reaching for the saboteur’s side with the other, and dimming his optics a bit as Jazz touched him.
“Then I surmise no one knows where we are and we need to make this quick before anyone misses us,” he said as he felt Jazz’s thigh press between his legs.
“Somethin’ like that,” Jazz replied with a purr as Prowl lowered his head and gently sucked on one of his horns.
“Mmm… think you can do it in just a few minutes?” Prowl moved to the other horn
Jazz smirked. “Love, I can have ya beggin’ in no time.”
Prowl smiled as well, reaching around the mech with one hand and caressing his windshield. “Prove it.”
The saboteur shuddered again, moaning into Prowl’s neck. “Is that a dare?”
“Oh, indeed it is.” Prowl’s fingers found the dashboard.
Jazz looked at him with a grin that was positively feral, one hand reaching for and stroking his door-hinges as the gripped and raised his right thigh, pulling him even closer till their chest-bumpers scraped sensually against each other’s.
“Oh, yes… Jazz… what… ooh Primus…”
The rest of Prowl’s comment was muffled as Jazz’s mouth closed over his and they kissed heatedly, the saboteur’s finger running teasingly along a cable right in between Prowl’s doors. The tactician’s energy field spiked as sensory receptors tingled with every pleasurable touch, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. He in turn let his hands wander over Jazz’s body, molesting every sensitive area he knew of till the saboteur trembled.
“Ung… Prowl…” Jazz panted as he pressed his mouth against the other’s. “So good…” He spasmed a bit when Prowl stimulated a patch of circuits in his hip that was already sensitive from an earlier assault. “… s’close…”
“Mmm, I know,” Prowl purred, kissing Jazz softly. “I- oh sweet Primus do that again!”
Jazz chuckled. “What, this?” He fingered a small crevice on the small of Prowl’s back, causing the tactician to let out one of the most delicious sounds yet.
“Evil mechanoid, stop teasing!” Prowl growled at him, body quivering.
The saboteur cackled, angling his head to kiss the tactician deeper as he fingered the crevice a little harder. Prowl in turn rubbed the spot on Jazz’s hip almost roughly. Overload came more or less simultaneously for both mechs, bodies pressing against each other in the throes of passion and pleasure. They could only hope there was no one outside the closet that could hear the noise they were making.
Once they had both finally come down from their releases, Jazz peeled himself off Prowl and leaned back against the wall next to him, and for a while the only sounds were that of their cooling systems working furiously to reduce the built-up heat in their bodies.
“That was good,” Jazz said at last.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Prowl replied.
“I should lock you up in the dark more often.”
“You can try.” The tactician’s optics gleamed.
“That another challenge I smell?”
“No, that’s your coolant.”
Jazz stopped in mid-retort, mouth slightly open, giving Prowl the perfect opening to kiss him thoroughly and then move to the door. He listened carefully for any sounds from outside before opening it and stepping out into the hallway, leaving a stunned Jazz to follow him.
Jazz, as expected, followed the retreating Second, admiring the view Prowl’s back presented to him. So he nearly crashed into the other mech when Prowl stopped abruptly and turned to face him.
“You’re sure about this working?”
“Huh?” Jazz asked intelligently. “Um… yes?”
“Focus on the plan now, Jazz, not my aft. I would have thought you’d have had enough of that.”
“I’m focused! Relax alright, and trust me.”
“I just worry that something might go wrong.”
“Well stop your worryin’. It’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.” Prowl sighed and continued on, counting down silently to himself… three… two… one…
“An’ for the record, ain’t no such thing as too much Prowl-aft,” Jazz called after him.
Prowl smiled to himself. Sometimes he could be so predictable for someone so unpredictable.
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