Transformers Prime: Convergence is a plot and character-development driven roleplay forum based upon canon material of TFP and RiD, but incorporates characters, elements, and plotlines from various other continuities to craft a unique story. Our community is welcoming, laid back, and dedicated to making each roleplay experience a good one.
Transformers Prime: Convergence is in no way affiliated with Hasbro, and copyrights and trademarks (including names, images, etc.) are held by their respective owners. All original content remains the property of individual writers and artists. Main header banner, board graphics, and theme by Counterklock.
Prowl grumbled at the other mech, not entirely uncommon since he had been known to let off a sound if ill content when someone aggravated him enough. Though usually he just stewed in it after that point. An irritated tactician tended to make the object of his irritation pay for the slight. And called it 'training' or 'punishment' depending on the offense.
This however, was an entirely different thing. The mild complaining of his spark told him it was well past time for him to have been in recharge, as he was truly exhausted through and through and his systems needed to reboot. Recharge would take care of that, and in the meantime he was safe. Jazz was here. His partner would never allow anything to disturb or harm him. He knew this, as the reverse was true for him.
The affection he wasn't coherent enough to process, so he let it slide. He had so much that needed to be done, but so little energy or drive to make himself get up and do it. Perhaps that was for the best at the moment. Recharge was the only thing he was doing for the rest of the day, and he'd removed himself from the duty list until he could get to Ratchet and have a check-over. All for the best, he didn't want to hurt someone.
The larger mech vented softly at the order from his smaller companion. "If you insist." He told him before catching the other around the middle and flipping him so that his back was to his chassis and rolling towards the couch. This put his back and thus doorwings to the room, and Jazz's frame pinned between his body and the couch. That done Prowl's frame relaxed finally and he dropped off into a light recharge.
Jazz figured that his partner would just recharge like this and had made himself comfortable. He'd stay quite and still, something that was unusual for him, if just to allow Prowl the rest that he needed. Thought it seemed that the tactician had a different plan for this recharge session. In an instant the world around him was moving. He was suddenly staring at the back of the couch with Prowl behind him which left him as the monkey in the middle.
"Uh... Prowl?"
Well. This was a little awkward. Not only was Jazz not used to being kept around instead of shooed away, but he wasn't so used to being pinned in place where he didn't have the freedom to move or leave. Was this Prowl's way of keeping him near? To ensure he wouldn't leave while he was resting? He was about to make mention of this until he felt Prowl's frame go lax against his own. At that point he knew that the tactician was out and didn't dare want to do anything to disturb the peace he was finally in.
While this wasn't the ideal spot for him to be in, sandwiched between so tightly in this space, he didn't feel it bothering him too much. This was Prowl. He wasn't purposely confining or restraining him so the thoughts of it were a lot easier to ignore. So Jazz would just deal with his own discomfort, pushing it aside. He did have to move just a bit back so that the vents on his side weren't blocked so he didn't overheat but not enough that it would disturb his partner's peaceful state. With a smile he reached down and rested his servo over top of Prowl's own as it laid across his midsection then vented softly as he drifted off into a light recharge of his own. His visor was offline but his other sensors were on heightened sensitivity, listening for any sorts of sounds or feeling of movement which would then wake him up.
His recharge was uninterrupted for twelve straight hours. Even the alarm he'd set didn't rouse him, though his systems would log it to show him when he did come back around. His systems slowly started pulling him out of his recharge cycle, processing at a sluggish rate due to the previous crash he'd suffered. But they were coming back online without errors, which meant the long recharge had done him well.
The first thing he notices, once he was awake enough to do so, was that he'd moved in his recharge somehow and now had his back against the armrest of the couch and Jazz pressed to his chassis. Front forward other than back against his chassis. He didn't think anything of the other mech still being with him, since he'd made the conscious decision to snag the other and keep him there.
The second thing was the flashing warning of low fuel reserves that had him removing himself carefully from his partner and going over to his small personal stash of energon to snag one and down it to make the warnings stop. Which only switched them from terminal low energy to mild. "That's odd." He muttered, absently getting another cube out for himself and a second one to take to Jazz.
While Prowl had had a full and restful recharge, Jazz, on the other hand, had not. He was up every hour, sometimes twice in the same one. There were things that were bothering him that he couldn't put his digit on and it was enough to have cut out any chance he had of being fully charged. His hypersensitive sensors didn't help either, since each time Prowl moved or seemed to intake oddly Jazz was awake and checking on him. He didn't mind it though since he had worked with much less than what he did manage to have.
Even though he could have gotten up at any point and stayed awake, he continued to try and rest for the sake of being as close to Prowl as he was. It was comforting to be like this and only wished it would have gone on for longer. Twelve hours didn't seem like enough and when Prowl got up and left him on the couch alone, the saboteur groaned in displeasure.
"Hn... what do I have to do ta convince ya to lemme have five more minutes?" Jazz's visor came online as Prowl approached and he rolled on his back to stretch his arms over his helm, then sat up with another grumble, this one in protest, and swung his legs over the side of the couch so he could reach out to take the cube he assumed was for him. "Guess this means we're up now?"
The way that Jazz's shoulders slumped showed his exhaustion. He didn't know why he was so tired, considering that one or two hours alone should have been enough for him. But right now? There were lots of bits that were stiff and none too pleased to be forced to move.
"Did'cha sleep well? Ya moved around a lot while ya were in recharge."
Something was off with Jazz this...He checked his internal clock....afternoon. Had he really recharged that long? In any case, he was getting side tracked. Jazz didn't seem to have recharged very well, which in a way he couldn't blame him for. He'd been pinned against the couch, which was hardly comfortable to begin with. "In my defense, I was returning to the couch." He offered at the others complaint about getting up. "I needed to refuel." As if that answered everything. Still, he handed off the second cube and sat himself down, stretching his doorwings all the way up then all the way down several times. He wasn't doing it for any particular reason, other than as a stretch.
"You may go back to recharging if you want." Prowl sipped at his cube at that, watching the other intently. Jazz was moving stiffly, which was to be expected. He contemplated rather or not it was bad enough for him to try and talk Jazz into letting him have a look at the wires, then decided he'd wait and see. He knew how to deal with kinked and knotted wires, he got those all the time in his neck and back strut from long hours spent behind a desk, so it came in handy.
"I slept fine, thank you." Doorwings were still fanning up and down in a slow, repetitive stretch, so at least they couldn't give away his embarrassment over how much he moved when he was recharging. "Restless energy left over from before, most likely."
"Mhm. Ya got restless energy often, Prowler? Is that why ya don't like berth buddies?" Jazz smirked some at that then leaned back so he could slump in his spot on the couch. It actually felt easier on his back to do this so he figured he'd stay that way until Prowl fussed at him or tried to leave or something of that sort. "I'm up now... 'least m'systems say so. I can't sleep if you're up and movin'round anyway nor would I get anymore rest if I were by m'self. Call it 'sensitivities of the saboteur'. Habits makes it that I gotta keep at least one optic open." There was no blaming of Prowl for his lack of rest needed. It wasn't like the tactician could have known he could be stirred so easily since they had never actually shared sleeping space before.
Jazz had light recharges as long as he could remember. When he was first sparked it was because working in the Undergrid you had to be alert enough to hear the sounds of trouble from the area around you. Into his adulthood it was for more... personal reasons, mainly the situation he had found himself in after leaving the slums. After that? He was just so used to it that to go into a deep recharge was virtually impossible. Of course it meant that he woke up at every noise or sensation that would jerk his systems and force him to come entirely awake. So each time Prowl had moved or made a sound? Jazz had been up and checking on him.
He noticed that he hadn't touched the energon that Prowl had brought him. While one servo raised it so he could drink, the other had his index digit up under his visor, rubbing at the space there much as a human would rub at their eyes to get the gunk out. Whether or not Jazz actually had optics under there was always a mystery. Could he see even? That wasn't something that could be answered even by Jazz since he'd never had the visor removed to check.
After finishing his cube he sat up straight and the sound of several pieces of metal shifting were heard, little pops as the panels shifted and expanded. Though it was the curious creak in his knee that had him flinching and rubbing at it once he set the cube down. "Ow... dang. Jeez, if I had known this was the cost of gettin' old then I woulda asked to be put outta my misery when I was young!" He chuckled some as he tapped his knee then looked at Prowl as he continued with the flying doorwings routine.
"Yo, Seeker-in-trainin'. What's on the agenda for today?"
"Your sarcasm is not appreciated Jazz." He wasn't angry with the other over it, just shaking his head at Jazz's antics. "My recharge is always fitful, yes. I've been told that my processors are overactive and keep me from going all the way into recharge unless I'm simply exhausted." Which had happened before, where he crashed out at work and recharged for two days straight. Of course, that was during the earliest days of the war when he had no way of knowing who was friend and who was foe as everyone started taking sides.
Sensitivities of a....well he supposed that could be a thing. However, "More like sensitivities of a Jazz." And yes, that was sarcasm.
He did feel bad for keeping Jazz up while he'd been resting, but it couldn't be helped for now. Now all he could do is make the other more comfortable as long as he was visiting with him. So he waited attentively, and once the other finished his cube snagged it and tossed it expertly into the waste bin that was against the far wall.
Head canting then his doorwings went still at the comment. Well then. He absently wedged a hand behind the smaller mech and applied pressure to the other's back over the spinal strut until it shifted under his touch and popped back into proper alignment.
"I am not attempting to fly. Its a stretch to keep my doorwings from getting stiff like your knee has."
"Don't make fun'a me. I can't help that I'm a light sleeper." Jazz wanted to protest further about being poked fun at or at least thrown something back at Prowl. Heck, he would have even reacted to having his knee commented on! None of that was to happen, as it was the sudden pressure behind him and the pop that had him reacting next instead.
The saboteur jerked some and his frame tensed suddenly, a clear sign that move had actually hurt. He wanted to leap up and away from him but there was a pressure like pins and needles in his hips that wouldn't allow him to stand on his pedes. So, he did the next best thing. As Jazz cried out a very loud 'Ow!', he flopped onto his front across Prowl's lap, his arms reaching out to grab for the armrest of the couch. "AH! Uncle! UNCLE! You win! I surrender!"
Maybe he was overreacting a little. The touch had actually hurt and there was no way he was going to be standing up for the moment until the sting in his hips stopped. So he would just lay there and let out an actual huff of frustration over all of this.
"I wouldn't mind bein' in your lap, but I'd prefer if it was cause I wanted to. Not cause ya temporarily may have paralyzed me. How could ya be so mean, Prowler? All I do is love ya and this is how ya treat me." There was a small whine heard then, muffled as he buried his face into the couch just at the side of Prowl's hip. Part of Jazz was playing and he hoped that Prowl would pick up on that and just... not try to move him for now. Cause really? There was a bit of throbbing still happening.
He hadn't meant to hurt the other, in fact his doorwings went high on his back to indicate he was feeling anxious over the matter. But, with Jazz splayed out across his lap he was in a perfect position for him to do what he was fairly certain would help. "Hush now." He ordered the other, tone low and apologetic. "Let me help you."
Both hands went to the others frame, starting at his hips, and dug the slight point of his fingers into the seams in Jazz's armor. He started methodically picking grime out of the joints and untangling knots that had formed in the neural lines that were close to the surface. Had his hands been blunt tipped this wouldn't have worked. As it was it was a tedious process, but one he set himself to with determination.
Once Jazz stopped being a drama bot and the room went quiet a soft music could be heard, barely audible. The tactician was aware that his spark made music, often he would compose complex scores to go along with whatever song was the loudest on a particular day, but it was always there, sort of like static or background noise. He paid it no mind while he worked, though it was slightly louder as he leaned over the saboteur's frame to remove the grime and knots that had accumulated from recharging on the couch.
"I am sorry Jazz. It wasn't my intention to cause you pain."
"Hn! Prowl..." Jazz flinched here and there when Prowl dug into the spaces between his armor. Some points did actually hurt- those more of where knots were since sensitive nodes not far from those places that the tactician was digging around in. "Prowl. Stop. Please, it's really, REALLY stingin'." He almost wanted to reach up and force him to stop since he was getting uncomfortable being like this. Prowl meant well but this was a time for the two of them to relax, not for him to play doctor.
That music, though...
"Hn... nevermind. Keep that up..."
It was faint at first, louder when Prowl leaned in. Almost on cue Jazz's own spark started to play in tune with Prowl's, knowing right away that was where it was coming from. That seemed to still the saboteur instantly. His frame started to relax which allowed for some of the seams in his armor to come undone and separate some which gave Prowl more access to the bits below he was trying to get to.
"You're fine, Prowl. I'm just a little sore is all. See? I'm gettin' over it already. Just.. keep lettin' that beautiful spark of yours play its music. I love listenin' to it..."
Jazz probably could have fallen into recharge just because of the immediate calm that washed over him with something as simple as Prowl's gorgeous spark playing a song to his. Of course, the problem with being entirely relaxed and having one's armor spreading enough that delicate nodes were now exposed? It lead to a frame being a little more sensitive than usual to a touch. So when the tactician dug into a space on his lower back right where his hips connected to the back strut, Jazz jerked again. This time it wasn't out of pain but instead he arched his back and moaned from the overwhelming wave of pleasure that came from Prowl touching that sensitive spot. Embarrassed by the noise, Jazz covered his mouth with his servos and tilted his helm forward so that he was pretty much hiding his faceplate in Prowl's thigh.
"Ifnor thaf," Jazz muffed out from behind his clamped servos, his frame starting to tense up as he inwardly cursed himself for that.
Prowl grumbled. He didn't want to hurt Jazz, but removing the gunk and knots was going to cause some stabs of soreness. If left to fester it would get worse until Jazz would need to go to a medic. This wasn't him trying to be a medic, this was him attempting to do right by his long time friend and partner. To make Jazz feel a little better. A little pain and then far better things. He hoped so anyway.
As the smaller mech started to relax Prowl began focusing more on what he was doing, minding his touch and focusing on those areas that usually gathered the most grime and stress between washes. He paused a moment as Jazz commented on the music of his spark, optics dimming just slightly and doorwings angling downwards slowly as he also relaxed. "It...does that."
It did embarrass him that Jazz could hear the music that constantly played from his spark, more that the saboteur's own spark was playing a perfect harmony to it. And then...well the moment shattered at the loud moan and arch from the spy in his lap. Hands went into the air and doorwings went into alert position, having no clue what had just happened. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry." Now he felt bad, he hadn't meant to do harm, and there was a fine line to tread there.
Jazz knew the moment that the moan had happened that the moment had been ruined. A part of him had just prayed that he wouldn't hear it or just ignore it as just 'Jazz being Jazz'. Really, that had been a stupid unanswered prayer. He knew his partner didn't understand all the gestures he did and a noise like that was new to him- of COURSE he had expected the reaction he did. Honestly, he was pretty sure he would have been thrown right off the tactician's lap so it was a good thing he had only switched into alert mode. His spark was able to sense the change in feeling, from adorably embarrassed to stressed guilt and it let shuddered, calling out to Prowl's spark again in hopes to calm it down so it could sing with it again.
Jazz just vented out loud.
Once he pulled his servos from his mouth, Jazz stretched out again and grabbed for the armrest and pulled just enough to straighten his back. "No, Prowler. It's okay, really. It's... a sensitive spot, but not in the 'man that really hurts' kinda way. It... uh..." Should he even say it? Would it embarrass Prowl? He didn't want the moment between them to be ruined further so he just beat around the bush with the explanation. "It's a soft spot. Turns me into an obedient puppy puddle when ya touch it just right. It's not a bad thing, Prowl. I like it."
Then he folded his arms under his helm and laid there still, content on his position so he just wanted to remain as he was for as long as Prowl would allow. The gaps in his armor remained open to allow him to continue to pick around should he want to.
"It's a beautiful song." Jazz's visor dimmed some, not completely going out. He was just relaxing again. "Your spark. Mine really loves bein' able to sing with it. I can... almost kinda feel what you're feelin' in my spark. Is that weird?"
".....Oh...." Well at least it hadn't been pain. He'd have rather poked a sensitive spot than caused the other pain. Though really, sensitive how? He didn't get it, but he also wasn't going to ask Jazz to elaborate. He wasn't that curious, not yet at any rate. As soon as Jazz got comfortable again the tactician went back to removing the gunk from between the plating, just leaving the neural lines alone from that point on. Gunk would come out in a good wash, but this was more for his own enjoyment and need for cleanliness than anything else.
Plus he got to keep a spy still, not an easy task. Nor one very many could claim.
His doorwings slowly eased back into a neutral position and he hummed noncommittally at Jazz while he worked his way over his partner's frame in search of gunk. "The song changes periodically. If I sit and listen, its always the same base sound, but the layers surrounding it are different. Depending on my mood and state of being." He strummed his digits against the other's frame, keeping time with the song coming out of his spark. "I am so used to the sound I discount it most fo the time." His head canted.
"I didn't know your spark could sing, Jazz. As for the singing together...compatible sparks do that. Or so I have read. Its...such a rare phenomenon that..I can't really be sure how accurate the information is. And it is very hard to come by." The next comment caused the tactician to stop picking at the gunk to lean sideways a little so he could look Jazz in the optic.
Jazz hated sitting still. His processor more or less didn't allow it, always keeping him going either by way of physical means or mental ones. He stayed away from any situation that would require him to sit still for longer than a minute or two since he would start to get bored and super anxious. Funny bit to all of this that was happening? With him laying across Prowl like this? The saboteur was particularly inclined to stay far away from Prowl most of the time since being in private with him was usually reserved to protocol meetings.
And those? They meant hours upon hours of going over ever fine detail of... just everything. So playing off whatever means he could to dip out and avoid being trapped in them? He took it.
Though here he was, his nerves tamed as Prowl traced around his frame to get him nice and clean. The washracks would have to come next once the tactician was done with his own exploration, but for the time being he would just let him work his magic.
Perhaps it was the stimulation to his processor that was keeping him still. It wasn't just silence between them. Prowl was explaining what he knew- and speculated- about the capability of sparks. The more he spoke about it, the rarity that he described it as, the more curious Jazz became about it. Everything he pointed out indicated that their sparks were the perfect match, a pair without having known their level of balance was even possible, let alone the fact that it was probably the most unlikely two to be a matching pair. Though a part of Jazz was a little upset over it all. While his spark sang happily with Prowl's own and danced around in the chamber in anticipation, he knew that it was just something he couldn't give it. That fact alone passed a bit of sadness through his spark and though the song was upbeat and beautiful, there was a very small note of sorrow that could be heard from time to time. The bond that his spark longed for, to finally be able to pulse as one entity with the spark it sang with? It just didn't seem to be in the cards.
Jazz's visor flashed as he noticed that Prowl was right in front of his faceplate. He had been so carried away by his thoughts that he didn't notice that the tactician had been leaning over and now was staring at him after asking his question. It took him a moment to register it and when he did he nodded slightly and dimmed his visor some again.
"Yeah... been able to for a while. 'Thought it was just cause I worked with ya for so long that I could just read ya but..." Jazz paused and smiled some. "... I feel it in my spark. Especially when we're this close. It was kinda weird to me at first. Now? It's comfortin'. How else ya think I know you're in distress when you're halfway 'cross the base? Or that you're mad cause I've managed to avoid ya for your protocol meetin'." He chuckled then vented softly again. "I wonder if that's what it feels like when you're a bonded pair, or if changes."
"Or how I can always track you down, even when you are hiding from me?" He had wondered on that particular phenomenon for years, and not to have it linked to their compatibility on a spark deep level answered so many questions. He was done cleaning the others frame, and now just wanted to content himself with listening to the sound that was the combined music between his spark and Jazz's.
He could also sense Jazz's sadness, with their sparks this close it was hard to ignore. It made him feel bad, because his entire issue with this situation was the war and the likelihood that one or both of them wouldn't survive the entirety of the war itself. Prowl didn't want to put Jazz through that level of pain, and didn't think he'd tolerate it of himself. In fact, if Jazz died he was going after him into the well of Allsparks. At which point he'd tell the other off as eloquently as possible for leaving him behind to deal with the Autobots various antics by himself.
That wasn't something he was telling Jazz, though perhaps he should.
"Do you want to sit up?"
@jazz
Shoutbox
Please respect the space and don't hesitate to ask questions!
altria : please dont be dead?
Jun 14, 2023 22:40:34 GMT
Partia: Is this still alive?
Dec 17, 2022 6:02:02 GMT
Partia: Is this still alive?
Dec 17, 2022 6:01:34 GMT
Check here for the latest
