(no subject)
30 Caresses - Prowl/Jazz
Title:
Author/Artist: cubicality
Pairing: Prowl/Jazz
Fandom: Transformers '07
Theme(s): 12. moonlit sky, 13. rescue you, rescue me, 14. scarlet; colour
Disclaimer:Transformers © Hasbro/Dreamworks.
Summmary:
Warnings: PG-13-ish.
12. moonlit sky
Some nights, Jazz knew, Prowl would leave the base and vanish to some unknown place. It didn't take him long to realize there was a pattern to these intermittent disappearances; they either took place on moonless nights, or full moon nights.
He was curious, of course, as to what Prowl was up to. But the Nissan remained as tight-lipped as always, and would either gently steer him away from the topic, switch tactics all at once, or distract him throughly. Not that Jazz minded overmuch, but it piqued his curiousity, and to be honest... a curious Jazz could sometimes be a bad thing.
So the next time Prowl snuck out of the base, he found himself nose to nose with a silver saboteur, who grinned and waved, hanging upside down.
"You could've just asked," muttered the Nissan, settling into the cool grass, optics turned to the night sky.
"You kept derailin' me, you evil, evil mech," Jazz responded, curling more comfortably into Prowl. The Nissan's fingers trailed lightly over abdominal plating, then came to rest at a hip.
"We're too far to see Cybertron, though now's a good time to study Earth constellations."
"S'that what you were doin' all those nights?"
"Most of them."
"Dude, you coulda jus' told me, what the frag."
"Making mountains out of molehills," Prowl laughed.
13. rescue you, rescue me
He'd come in like a flash of light, moving with fast easy grace, cutting through - but Jazz knew he was angry, as angry as the downed saboteur had ever seen the other mech. It showed, in the forceful jerk that made him wince, as some hapless drone's helm clattered to the ground, struts and cabling torn, broken; it showed, in the blaze of blue that seemed to loom up out of the darkness. It showed in the flare of elegant black-and-white doorwings, flung wide and vibrating imperceptibly.
Most of all, Prowl's anger sang to him in a wordless, infrasonic keen, so deep, so low that it made Jazz's intakes hitch for air. He couldn't understand it, wasn't sure of the depth of emotion from the usually stoic mech - what had happened? Was this even Prowl he was seeing, and not a ghost out of his imagination?
Jazz waved, weakly, cooling fans rattling too hard, too painfully for him to even think about forming words. As the other mech moved to his side, he saw some deep swift eddy of pure emotion race across Prowl's face, and wondered at it.
"Don't move," Prowl murmured, reaching out to cup a fin, stroke lightly over the side of his face. Jazz knew he was tracing the hairline cracks that warped some of the components, even though he couldn't feel it. "Don't move. Ratchet will be here."
"Prowl," he whispered, letting his gaze unfocus. "Prowl."
"I'm here."
14. scarlet; colour
"'kay, first of all, I want ya to do me a favour - switch the gender of yer 'form, Prowl," grinned the Solstice, hands on hips, swaying lightly to some faint thread of music.
Prowl arched an optic ridge. "Switch the gender? What for?"
"Jus' do it," Jazz encouraged, doing a little shuffle of a dance step. "Humour me?"
"I will, once you tell me what it's all about."
The Solstice grinned wide, let himself collapse into his alt form. Prowl peered down bemusedly, watching as Jazz's 'form blinked on - black-haired and with skin the colour of coffee-and-cream, a little curvier than what the current trends seemed to dictate.
"Y'can't bellydance that well as a man, Prowler," he explained. "Or at least, the guy's parts aren't as seductive as the ladies' ones. C'mon, humour me, man."
Carefully replacing the datapad in his hands, Prowl stepped over to where Jazz waited, hips shimmying as he - she, really - hummed. Diaphanous strips of material stretched from armlets to bracelets, and the siren-red top was beaded and fringed with gold. A long, flowing skirt completed the outfit.
"No shoes?"
"Nah, prolly better without them."
Prowl nodded, then folded down into his own alt. He took a moment to re-code the programming for his 'form, before debugging, and finally letting it flicker to life. "Good enough?" he asked, hands on hips.
"Nice eyeful," Jazz leered, taking in the sleekly styled black hair. "Kinda hangs on you, though. You're too scrawny," she chortled, stepping up to the other 'woman'. "Need a lil more T&A, lil more meat on ya ribs - there, much better."
"I personally think you are one big pervert in disguise."
"Sourpuss." Jazz snorted, slid her hands over Prowl's waist, then leant in to give her a quick peck in the cheek. "Shall we dance?"
"Let's."
Title:
Author/Artist: cubicality
Pairing: Prowl/Jazz
Fandom: Transformers '07
Theme(s): 12. moonlit sky, 13. rescue you, rescue me, 14. scarlet; colour
Disclaimer:Transformers © Hasbro/Dreamworks.
Summmary:
Warnings: PG-13-ish.
12. moonlit sky
Some nights, Jazz knew, Prowl would leave the base and vanish to some unknown place. It didn't take him long to realize there was a pattern to these intermittent disappearances; they either took place on moonless nights, or full moon nights.
He was curious, of course, as to what Prowl was up to. But the Nissan remained as tight-lipped as always, and would either gently steer him away from the topic, switch tactics all at once, or distract him throughly. Not that Jazz minded overmuch, but it piqued his curiousity, and to be honest... a curious Jazz could sometimes be a bad thing.
So the next time Prowl snuck out of the base, he found himself nose to nose with a silver saboteur, who grinned and waved, hanging upside down.
"You could've just asked," muttered the Nissan, settling into the cool grass, optics turned to the night sky.
"You kept derailin' me, you evil, evil mech," Jazz responded, curling more comfortably into Prowl. The Nissan's fingers trailed lightly over abdominal plating, then came to rest at a hip.
"We're too far to see Cybertron, though now's a good time to study Earth constellations."
"S'that what you were doin' all those nights?"
"Most of them."
"Dude, you coulda jus' told me, what the frag."
"Making mountains out of molehills," Prowl laughed.
13. rescue you, rescue me
He'd come in like a flash of light, moving with fast easy grace, cutting through - but Jazz knew he was angry, as angry as the downed saboteur had ever seen the other mech. It showed, in the forceful jerk that made him wince, as some hapless drone's helm clattered to the ground, struts and cabling torn, broken; it showed, in the blaze of blue that seemed to loom up out of the darkness. It showed in the flare of elegant black-and-white doorwings, flung wide and vibrating imperceptibly.
Most of all, Prowl's anger sang to him in a wordless, infrasonic keen, so deep, so low that it made Jazz's intakes hitch for air. He couldn't understand it, wasn't sure of the depth of emotion from the usually stoic mech - what had happened? Was this even Prowl he was seeing, and not a ghost out of his imagination?
Jazz waved, weakly, cooling fans rattling too hard, too painfully for him to even think about forming words. As the other mech moved to his side, he saw some deep swift eddy of pure emotion race across Prowl's face, and wondered at it.
"Don't move," Prowl murmured, reaching out to cup a fin, stroke lightly over the side of his face. Jazz knew he was tracing the hairline cracks that warped some of the components, even though he couldn't feel it. "Don't move. Ratchet will be here."
"Prowl," he whispered, letting his gaze unfocus. "Prowl."
"I'm here."
14. scarlet; colour
"'kay, first of all, I want ya to do me a favour - switch the gender of yer 'form, Prowl," grinned the Solstice, hands on hips, swaying lightly to some faint thread of music.
Prowl arched an optic ridge. "Switch the gender? What for?"
"Jus' do it," Jazz encouraged, doing a little shuffle of a dance step. "Humour me?"
"I will, once you tell me what it's all about."
The Solstice grinned wide, let himself collapse into his alt form. Prowl peered down bemusedly, watching as Jazz's 'form blinked on - black-haired and with skin the colour of coffee-and-cream, a little curvier than what the current trends seemed to dictate.
"Y'can't bellydance that well as a man, Prowler," he explained. "Or at least, the guy's parts aren't as seductive as the ladies' ones. C'mon, humour me, man."
Carefully replacing the datapad in his hands, Prowl stepped over to where Jazz waited, hips shimmying as he - she, really - hummed. Diaphanous strips of material stretched from armlets to bracelets, and the siren-red top was beaded and fringed with gold. A long, flowing skirt completed the outfit.
"No shoes?"
"Nah, prolly better without them."
Prowl nodded, then folded down into his own alt. He took a moment to re-code the programming for his 'form, before debugging, and finally letting it flicker to life. "Good enough?" he asked, hands on hips.
"Nice eyeful," Jazz leered, taking in the sleekly styled black hair. "Kinda hangs on you, though. You're too scrawny," she chortled, stepping up to the other 'woman'. "Need a lil more T&A, lil more meat on ya ribs - there, much better."
"I personally think you are one big pervert in disguise."
"Sourpuss." Jazz snorted, slid her hands over Prowl's waist, then leant in to give her a quick peck in the cheek. "Shall we dance?"
"Let's."