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Jazz tilted his helm as he watched Prowl investigate the habsuite. Chief Scattershield had decided that the best way to keep Prowl contained and the rest of the Enforcers out of harms’ way was to have him and Jazz pretty much locked up. Not that Jazz minded much. The Chief had actually taken his opinion into consideration when deciding what to do, which surprised Jazz. Also, Prowl wasn’t even getting on his nerves.
On the contrary, Prowl was doing everything he could to make sure he was comfortable. Already he’d piled the blankets from the berth Jazz, and thus Prowl too, hadn’t chosen and wrapped them around the lying down Polyhexian. When the Praxian had wandered off to explore the new surroundings after finishing making him comfortable, he’d sat up cross-legged and rearranged the blankets around him so he could sit.
“Prowl?” he called out, wondering where around the corner the Praxian had wandered.
The feral Enforcer turned and stalked over to him, ice twinkling in his gaze.
Admittedly, he wished Prowl could converse with him. It was a little boring without conversation, but he did have the other Enforcers on his comm now that he could chat to, at least the ones that were fully awake. The medic that was currently awake, a big femme named Sparkwing, wasn’t able to reset the timer that would force Prowl’s systems into a hard reboot now instead of after the winter. She said she knew how to do it in theory but that they would have to wait for the natural hard reboot the winter Enforcers set for their systems. She didn’t want to risk doing some damage to Prowl by accident and that she hadn’t been certified before winter because nobody had anticipated a problem like this occurring. It was definitely an oversight that wouldn’t be made next winter.
And how could they when Jazz himself hadn’t known an acid storm would strike down his ship? The Praxians had ended up sending another mech out there to take Prowl’s place since Prowl definitely wouldn’t be going back out to patrol his territory again for the winter.
“Well, hey, there.” Jazz lifted his arms as Prowl crawled onto the berth and snuggled right against his chest. Prowl’s arms snaked underneath his and tugged him close, digits prodding at his back where it had collided with the ground after he’d slipped on a clear patch of hoarfrost earlier.
“Yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmured, rubbing Prowl’s back in circles after he’d wrapped his arms back around Prowl. Cuddly sneaker.
Prowl purred against him, and Jazz’s visor dimmed at the comforting sound until—
“Ow! Th’ frag was tha’?”
He arched into Prowl’s chest in an attempt to get away from a pokey digit that had prodded at something that hurt, fraggitall! That purring cut off, the Praxian completely stilling over him.
Prowl’s electromagnetic field washed over him, alive in concern, and as intimate as it felt, Jazz ignored it as he reached a hand behind his back to prod at the sore spot. He winced as he tried to expand his armor, fluff it out, something, but a rattling echoed back to him. He turned his gaze up to Prowl and bit his lip nervously. Dim optics stared back, sensory panels miserably drooping low, and Jazz was washed in sadness from the other. What?
“Ya think ya hurt me,” he realized. Aww. Well, he had said ow and yelped. Carefully, he folded his own EM field out and tried to project his forgiveness and need-help with it. He pulled away from Prowl’s unresisting arms, though his optics seemed a smidge brighter, and turned so his back faced the mech. Something clunk-clunked in his back, and Jazz would’ve sworn something was broke in there if he hadn’t felt pieces of something slide further towards his protoform. Also, the pain wasn’t worsening.
“There’s somethin’ in there, yeah? Help me out here; it’s okay.” He prodded at his back again, quietly ushering Prowl to get his hands back to him.
Foreign claws traced over the dented armor paneling, Jazz forcing himself not to flinch under the touch as it set off pain sensors. So much for the pain not worsening. Something must have showed, though, because Prowl leaned forward and nuzzled his neck, gently kissing up his cheek to nuzzle the corner of his visor as he purred softly once more.
Jazz engaged the release panel for that armor segment, which gave a mechanical hiss as the pressure released. Prowl growled at the sound but stopped when he realized what made the noise. Carefully, his claws grabbed the edge of the armor piece and lifted it from Jazz’s chassis to place somewhere out of Jazz’s line of sight. There was no clatter though, so he assumed Prowl had set it on the berth or perhaps gently on the floor.
Clawed digits returned to the injured area. Jazz set his hands in his lap and waited for Prowl to find whatever was rattling in there.
The Praxian made a… noise. He honestly couldn’t tell if it was a growl because he was hurt or a happy noise because he was letting Prowl take care of his mate. A white hand reached over his shoulder, all clenched up like he was holding something, and Jazz held up his hand open, palm up. Claws opened and some rocks fell onto his palm.
“Ew.” Disgust flickered into his open field as he peered at what had snuck underneath his plating.
Prowl snorted, amusement coloring his field as he went back to digging. Or would he consider it grooming? At any rate, Jazz helpfully unlatched another panel for him. Another couple rocks were given to him. How had one little slip gotten so much under his armor? Jazz didn’t feel anything else in between his armor, but when he tried to turn back around to retrieve his armor, Prowl nipped his shoulder.
“Oy, what was tha’ for?” he mumbled as he glanced back but otherwise didn’t move.
Prowl licked the bitten area, something like approval-pleasure thrumming through his field, before he went back to rummaging around Jazz’s back. Jazz admitted to himself that it felt nice, almost like a massage. At least until Prowl pinched at another armor piece.
“‘Ey, wha’ do ya want?” Jazz glanced over his shoulder, visor bright in curiosity, and Prowl palmed the bare area then tried to tug away what he apparently deemed the next armor piece to go.
“Okay, so ya wanna make sure you got it all. C’n do tha’, I suppose.” Jazz exvented. After he unlocked the next piece, it didn’t take him long to realize that Prowl was going in a circular pattern across his back. As circular as armor on a back was.
Prowl had started at his right shoulder and had gone down almost to his aft before changing direction and removing panels up the left side of his back.
“Y’er a determined bugger, ain’t ya?” Jazz grumbled. He sighed and pushed the rocks and pebbles away. He crossed his arms and rested his chin on them, letting the feral Enforcer do what he pleased. He knew Prowl wasn’t going to hurt him. Well. Not more than that nip, he hoped.
Prowl huffed and tugged at Jazz’s shoulder armor.
“’Ey, what’chu think ye’r doin’?” Jazz asked, tilting his head. “I’m not hurt right there. Feelin’ fine.”
Prowl looked at him and glared, wings fanning out. Jazz held his gaze, glaring back. Prowl tugged harder and started poking the armor segment, clearly looking for the manual lock release.
“Fine!” Jazz pouted and let the piece release. Prowl purred, pressing more affection into his field. He leaned down and nuzzled one of Jazz’s horns, and Jazz shivered. His horns were very sensitive, and he was even more receptive with Prowl since he found him attractive.
Prowl pulled back and rubbed the newly exposed cables and strut. Jazz relaxed under the touch, visor dimming.
So Prowl continued. He tugged off Jazz’s armor from both arms and then straddled his waist backwards, facing Jazz’s legs. Jazz tried to sit up, but Prowl growled as he moved under the feral Enforcer.
“C’mon,” Jazz whined, “don’ ya think ya’ve stripped me enough?”
Clearly not, because Prowl proceeded to remove his hip and aft and thigh armor.
“Gettin’ a lil cold ‘ere, Prowler,” Jazz said, frowning as he glanced back at the Praxian. His heating systems turned on, pumping more heat to his frame. Prowl chuffed and merely grabbed his pede. Jazz yelped as his lower leg was lifted, bending at the knee. He kept letting Prowl remove his armor.
If the other Praxians, the awake ones, could see him now, they would probably be disturbed he was letting a feral Enforcer do this to him. He trusted Prowl, though, even as he kept getting chillier. Prowl pressed down to his frame and rumbled his engine, redirecting his vents to blow warm air onto Jazz.
Jazz crossed his arms under his chin again and smiled. Prowl really did care about him, didn’t he? He chuckled softly and shook his head.
Prowl set his legs down gently and then crawled off of Jazz. He pressed a hand against the side of Jazz’s chest, and Jazz glanced back at him.
“Wha’? Wha’s up?” he asked. Prowl pressed more insistently, used both hands, and Jazz realized what he wanted.
“Oh.” Jazz sighed and turned onto his back, staring up at the Praxian. Prowl rumbled, pleased, and Jazz shivered. That deep engine the Enforcer had was so attractive.
Prowl removed his thigh armor now, and Jazz bit his lip. Exactly how much armor was Prowl going to take off? Probably as much as he could get away with, Jazz told himself.
Prowl paused, however, and pulled a blanket up Jazz’s legs.
“Aw,” Jazz melted at the care.
Then Prowl focused his attention on Jazz’s abdomen. He stroked the thick little panels that hid Jazz’s interfacing equipment, his jacks and ports and plugs. Jazz squirmed, watching Prowl. Did Prowl really want to…? Jazz wondered what it would be like to interface with Prowl like this, higher functions shut down. What would it be like to feel the mind of a feral winter Enforcer against his?
Jazz shivered. Prowl looked up at him. There wasn’t any objection in his field. Prowl took it as permission to straddle the little Polyhexian’s hips. His posture was straight, and he looked down at Jazz with an intent gaze.
“Wha’chu want?” Jazz asked, voice soft.
Prowl whined softly and stroked his own abdomen. The panels there retracted. Jazz swallowed hard. So Prowl did want that. He couldn’t blame Prowl for it, especially considering what the other Praxians had said about Prowl’s mental state right now. Prowl considered him his mate. Of course, he would want interfacing. He seemed to be asking for it, however, instead of just demanding or forcing it.
Jazz wanted to give it to him. He shivered and reached down his frame, willingly pulling off the armor on his lower abdomen that covered his interfacing equipment. Unlike Prowl’s, it wasn’t built to be able to retract on its own. Then he offered the pieces to Prowl.
Prowl’s gaze brightened, and he looked down at Jazz’s stomach. His wings flared out, flicking and shivering. Jazz wished he was more familiar with the wing cant and emotions that Praxian wings expressed. Prowl was pleased, at least, especially when he dragged his gaze off of Jazz’s stomach and tenderly took the offered panels. He subspaced them. Jazz squirmed, anticipation coiling inside him. There would be no getting those back unless Prowl willingly returned them.
Jazz reached up, then, and stroked Prowl’s abdomen, dragging his digittips against Prowl’s exposed equipment. The Praxian shivered, head tilting back. Arousal fluttered through Prowl’s field, and he panted slightly, shifting into Jazz’s touch.
“Ya like this a lot,” Jazz murmured, staring at the soft pleasure showing on Prowl’s face. So lovely. Very, very lovely. He never thought he would think so, but he did. His fingers left Prowl’s abdomen, and he scooted up the berth a little. He sat up and reached out, sliding one hand behind Prowl’s neck. He wanted to kiss him. He pulled on Prowl’s neck, and Prowl cooperated though he seemed a little confused.
Jazz pressed his lips to Prowl’s, and the Enforcer’s field lit up with delight. He pressed against Jazz, wrapping an arm around his waist. Jazz moaned softly into the kiss as Prowl’s other hand stroked up and down his side. Their lips moved softly against each other, gentle for a while. Jazz slid his glossa out and against Prowl’s lower lip.
Prowl growled slightly and offlined his optics, parting his lips and sliding his glossa out too. He pressed his glossa into Jazz’s mouth, rumbling. Jazz moaned softly as he allowed the Praxian access. Prowl’s glossa stroked his, and it stroked his denta, the inside of his cheeks, the roof of his mouth. Such thorough exploration. Jazz shoved his glossa forward next, into Prowl’s mouth, and oh, it felt wonderful. It was a gentle kiss for all it was incredibly possessive, too.
He flinched when pain came across his glossa. Oh! How had he forgotten Prowl’s fangs? He’d seen them often enough.
Prowl tried to pull back, a concerned trill escaping him, but Jazz pulled harder on the back of his neck. Prowl relaxed again, and then he purred, pleased. Jazz rubbed his glossa against the underside of Prowl’s, far more cautious now. They shivered in unison. Prowl swallowed against Jazz’s glossa, the whole motion squeezing it. Lust filled the Enforcer’s field even more.
Did tasting his energon get Prowl off somehow? Jazz hummed and reluctantly broke the kiss, tilting his head back and loosening his grip on Prowl’s neck. Prowl pulled back, panting. They looked at the string of oral lubricant between them, slightly colored with energon. Jazz shivered, his abdomen clenching. The string broke.
Frag. He wanted Prowl. He arched below him, and Prowl pulled back further. He stroked Jazz’s abdomen, claws dragging over the cabling and ports. There was a thrill of danger, of how easily Prowl could hurt him with those sharp claws, his fangs, the sharp chevron too.
Prowl leaned up and nibbled over Jazz’s horns, dermal plating brushing softly along. Jazz was sure it was scraping off tiny curls of paint.
“C’mon.” Jazz moaned again and squirmed. He reached down and grabbed one of his jacks, pulling it up and twisting it around his fingers. Small sparks fizzled off them. Prowl’s gaze locked onto the motion, and his engine rumbled deeply, incredible possessiveness in his field.
Jazz offered his cable to Prowl, acceptance and permission in his field. Delight filled Prowl, wings fluttering. Prowl grabbed the cable and gently rolled it between his digits. Jazz shuddered. Thankfully, Prowl decided not to tease Jazz so much, and he carefully plugged Jazz’s jack into his port. He took one of his own cables, thicker than Jazz’s, and plugged into the Polyhexian.
Handshake protocols were exchanged, ensuring they were both safe.
Prowl dropped his firewalls, and Jazz startled. Usually, they weren’t so exposed, especially with the first interface. Jazz flushed and lowered his own firewalls. The feel of Prowl’s processor was so, so very expansive. He could lose himself in it, easily.
This was like… like nothing he’d ever felt. The lack of significant higher thinking didn’t at all diminish how much predatory intelligence came across.
He was reluctant to fully commit, unsure of the feral nature presented to him. He trusted Prowl, though. Prowl sent a small data packet, more sensation than electricity or pleasure, and Jazz relaxed as he processed the contentment and feeling inside it.
He sent a small packet to Prowl, and Prowl’s engine kicked up as he processed the feeling of Jazz laying on his back. He sent desire to Jazz, but it was a particular desire he felt. Jazz hummed softly and nodded.
Prowl wanted more connection, so he would give it to him. Prowl’s cables moved on their own. Surprise flickered from Jazz as he saw that. So, Prowl had muscle fibers around the cables, and the software to control it. Fascinating. Jazz had been wanting to get that for a while now.
Jazz moaned as Prowl’s pins tickled his ports, and he pushed a data packet of impatience down the line. He only got amusement back, and a slight chuckle sound from Prowl.
Slowly, one by one, Prowl plugged them into Jazz. By the end of it, Jazz almost felt like his processor was being shoved open by the increased bandwidth. He shivered and started manually plugging the rest of his into Prowl. Ooh, this was perfect. So very, very perfect. It felt like they were made for each other, with how they had the same number of equipment.
Prowl agreed, Jazz needed to be able to move his jacks by themselves.
Jazz chuffed and smirked up at the Enforcer. Reading his thoughts, was he? Oh well. They were completely exposed to each other, willingly. It was fine.
Jazz pressed into Prowl’s processor, tasting how it worked. There was possessiveness, adoration, and determination to take care of Jazz there. Lovely.
Once all of Prowl’s ports were filled, too, the burden on Jazz’s processor eased as the load dispersed. Prowl sent another pulse of data, and Jazz felt it was from his wings, how he processed Jazz below him.
Jazz moaned at the sensation, and distantly he wondered if it was possible for him to get a wing upgrade. He would love to share the sensation with Prowl, who picked up on the idea and rumbled, arousal heating his frame further.
They passed electricity between them, and datapackets that got larger and larger as they went. Jazz tugged Prowl down, wanting him to lay on top of him, and he shivered when Prowl cooperated.
“Yes, yes,” he gasped out. He shuddered and pulsed back how it felt, how the sensation made his processor fuzzy. He knew Prowl would protect him.
Prowl nuzzled Jazz’s horns and licked them, and Jazz shivered, visor brightening. It was becoming difficult to tell who was who. Prowl’s fangs scraping Jazz’s horns were both of them. Jazz felt his own sides under his touch, and Prowl felt his own legs tangled up with each other. Jazz’s visor offlined, heightening the sensations everywhere. Their network, their private network, felt so good. He rocked against Prowl, and Prowl growled his engine, pressing down on him harder.
Jazz wailed, overload rushing through him. Electricity snapped across his lines, and it shot into Prowl’s frame. The Praxian locked up, groaning as Jazz’s overload triggered his. It made energy flood his frame, releasing into his cords. The feedback loop continued to grow and twist and repeat.
It ended by knocking both of them offline.
When they woke, it was shortly after that, and both of their frames were still pinging from their metal cooling down. They were still connected, and Jazz’s thoughts were fuzzy, unable yet to separate his own consciousness from Prowl’s.
He had to take care of his little mate, precious helpless wonderful mate, make sure he was okay. He was fine, he promised, really. He was just exhausted. He was happy, though. So very happy and content. It radiated through him and across their connection and then swelled, becoming the only emotions they felt.
They hummed softly, content to luxuriate in the feelings.
Once coherent thought returned to him, and their processors untangled from each other, Jazz reflected on how they had the rest of the winter for this, barring recharge and refueling.
Oh. Oh, that was a nice thought.
Prowl’s attention perked up, and he agreed.
Jazz was going to need some of his wires and chips replaced by the end of the winter if every interface felt like that one. Scrap, he hoped Prowl wasn’t angry with him when he woke up out of Long Patrol mode.
Jazz couldn’t find Prowl. That was unusual but not unwarranted considering the situation, he supposed. The mech had just booted out of basic programming a couple days ago. He would admit to being a bit hurt when the mech had sputtered an apology and promptly fled the habsuite they’d spent most of the winter in. At least he had all of his armor and wouldn’t have to answer the door wrapped in a blanket! He’d been able to coax Prowl into returning it not two weeks ago.
He spent the day trying to find his rescuer, asking Smokescreen, Duster, and Chief Scattershield, and the others. No luck, especially with Prowl’s comm shut off.
Then he went back to his habsuite, despondent. Helm low, he shut the door behind him.
An engine rumble made him jolt and squeak as he whipped around.
There Prowl was, wings low, a concerned expression on his face.
“Prowl!” He fumbled, not sure what to do or say. The Praxian had spent the whole day hiding from everybody only to now show up in the habsuite he’d been sharing with Jazz. Why?
“Jazz,” Prowl said, wings twitching back and forth. He looked awkward.
“Ya scared me, runnin’ off like tha’!”
“My apologies. That was not my intention. I merely…” Prowl looked him up and down, icy gaze focused before he looked away again. His EMF was held close to his chassis, unreadable. “I am sorry.”
“Ya shouldn’ be apologizin’. I should.” Jazz sighed and shook his head, going over to the berth and sitting down.
“What? Why?” Prowl’s helm jerked up, and he stared at Jazz. “I pressured you—”
“Ya didn’!” Jazz denied, frowning at the Praxian. “Ya were so polite. I don’ think ya would’ve forced me. I should’a protested more, redirected ya, cuz I was th’ one runnin’ on all cylinders. I took advantage, an’ I’m sorry.” He held a hand over his spark.
Prowl was quiet for a little bit, long enough for Jazz to grow uncomfortable with the silence. He lowered his hand to his lap and fidgeted with the edge of his poleyn.
“You are so kind and gracious,” the Enforcer finally murmured, features relaxing and doorwings perking. He motioned to the berth. “May I sit with you?”
“Of course!” Jazz smiled, relief flashing through his spark. He scooted to the side and patted the berth.
“Thank you.” Prowl sat and held his hands folded in his lap then said quietly, “I do not feel taken advantage of.”
“Ya don’t?” Jazz had to make sure.
“No.”
“Thank Primus. I’ve been worryin’ about tha’ off an’ on for th’whole winter!” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.
Prowl couldn’t stop himself from lifting a hand to touch Jazz’s cheek. The Polyhexian froze and smiled up at Prowl, helm ducking a little.
“You have nothing to fear. We have quite a time ahead of us, hm?”
“We sure do,” Jazz agreed, scooting over to lean against Prowl.
He should probably tell the other Enforcers he’d found and made up with Prowl.
Later. He would do that later.