Title: Reasons Jazz Is A Lucky Mech, #248
Author: Moonbeam's Predilections
Fandom: Transformers G1
Genre: Humour, Romance, Borderline Crack and Getting Crackier!
Word Count: 1,024 words this part, 3,946 words total (so far)
Part 1: In which Jazz learns what the Decepticons are getting up to when they're not causing trouble.
Part 2: In which Jazz learns that Seekers ain't the only ones with quirky programming.
Part 3: In which the time has come.
Reasons Jazz Is A Lucky Mech, #248: Part 4/7
“Jazz, I need... we have to... please!” Prowl whined as he slipped his fingertips into the seams of his mate’s chestplates, brushing delicately across the sealed latches tucked within. His own chestplates were opening without hesitation, the time for teasing past as the need to mate drove him relentlessly on.
Jazz echoed his whine, his latches unclicking instinctively and peeling apart his chestplates to reveal his pulsing spark.
Prowl released an exultant cry, his electromagnetic field flaring out in welcome and want. Jazz responded immediately, his own field blaring brighter as their sparks began sending out tendrils of energy in reach of the other. When the connection was finally made, both shuddered at the fierce jolt that only fanned the flames of their passion. Consumed by the need for more, they reached out again and again, the contact between their sparks deepening and lasting longer with every pulse.
Then at last, fleeting connection was no longer enough for either of them and their sparks met and clung. In full accord, both pushed that smallest bit further – reached out with the very fibre of their being that infinitesimal distance that separated them from what they wanted, needed, desired most – and fell into their mate.
Twin shouts of joy reverberated off the room’s walls.
Merged in the most meaningful way possible for their kind, Prowl and Jazz were one. For possibly the only in his life, Jazz felt what it was like for a Vosian or Praxian to be gripped by heat, the terrible ached that consumed and overwhelmed in its desperate desire to reproduce. And Prowl felt what it was like for one affected by their mate’s heat, the processor-numbing sensation of being just that wanted, of being so desired that you could not help but desire back yourself.
But that was not all they felt. Beneath the immediate feelings of the heat, there were deeper emotions that both sought and found freely. Feelings of friendship, attraction, devotion, trust, and above all, a growing current of love. That profound impression was the final thread and as it spread throughout their combined essences, it pushed them over the edge.
Overload crashed over them. Torn apart by the potency of the backlash, their sparks slowly retreated back into their proper chambers. Lingering waves of energy soothed them during the process until all that was left was a languid pleasure and a clear sense of completion.
“Mmmm...” Jazz purred in his audials as Prowl recovered. “If I’d known ‘facing with you was that good, Prowler, I’d have had you in m’ berth two breems after I met you.”
Prowl chuckled, far too satisfied to bother trying to calculate the remote likelihood of that. “I don’t think it always feels quite like that, Jazz. The heat is a powerful force that no doubt enhances the experience greatly.”
“No doubt,” Jazz agreed automatically, not even paying attention as he was busy running his hands over and down Prowl’s gradually cooling armour. Prowl nuzzled the side of his face affectionately.
“So,” Jazz stole a kiss. “Is that it? One amazingly awesome – if I do say so m’self – overload and the heat’s over?” He could not entirely keep the disappointment he felt at the idea from permeating his voice.
In answer Prowl wriggled in his mate’s lap. “Does it feel like it’s over?” He grinned wickedly. “Oh no, Jazz, not yet. It’s been banked, yes, temporarily satisfied so that I’m feeling a little more myself, a little more in control, but it’s by no means over yet. The heat cycle is about breeding, remember, and it doesn’t end until someone gets sparked up.”
“Reeeeally?” Jazz grinned back. “Then we’ll get to do this again?”
The outrageously lecherous tone he used did not fully hide the seriousness of the question. His too-revealing optics pleaded for reassurance.
Prowl kissed him fiercely. “Often. In fact, I was hoping that perhaps our relationship would not end with the heat cycle. We’re going to have a sparkling together, after all, it only makes logical sense that we forge a more permanent...” he hesitated, suddenly overcome by nerves, “connection.”
But Jazz heard what he’d meant to say and smiled, pleased. “I’d like that,” he said simply.
Prowl’s electromagnetic field flared out to caress his mate in joy. He hugged Jazz shyly. “Thank you.”
Strong arms tightened possessively around him. Prowl pecked a light kiss onto his face and snuggled in. For a while, neither of them moved. They just revelled in the comfort of being with their mate.
And future bonded, if all went well.
“So what are we to do until then?” Jazz smirked, and winked at him lasciviously.
Prowl returned the smirk twice-over, but surprised Jazz by getting up off his lap. His voice was a tease when he spoke. “I believe the humans have a solution that will work for us.”
He made for the exit.
Jazz stood up in confusion. “Where ya goin’?”
Prowl tossed a mischievous smile over his shoulder at him. “To give you a head start. I’m a Praxian, Jazz, the closest thing to a Seeker a ground-based mech can get. A Praxian in the middle of my heat cycle, a time dedicated to seeking a mate – which I, alas, did not get to do as you were so conveniently close when the time came. At your own insistence too, I might add.”
Jazz began to laugh as he understood. “You want to chase me? Well right on, Prowler! That is a plan I can get behind. Sounds like fun!” He all but skipped to the door and slipped through ahead of his mate.
One hand lingered to trail delicately over Prowl’s doorwing to his chest, then tapped lightly right over his sparkchamber. Jazz leaned close to sub-vocalise into his audial.
“Tag, you’re it.”
And he bolted off running down the corridor, a squeal of glee drifting back from him as he disappeared around the corner.
Laughing gaily, the temporarily sated heat cycle making him playful, Prowl quickly counted to one hundred. Then he broke into a run of his own and gave chase, happily off to seek out his mate.
To be continued...in Part 5!
P.S. I opted not to raise the rating on account of this sparksex business being awfully damn tame in comparison to my usual porn. ;P