Chapter Text
Jazz’s engine gave a low purr as he climbed up onto the berth, crawling over the larger frame of his lover. His mouth twitched up into a grin at the soft rev Prowl’s engine gave, the tactician’s optics darkening.
“Tell me wha’ ya want, Prowler.” He slipped slim digits into armour seams, gently caressing along cables and gears, drawing another soft, steady rumble from Prowl.
“Anything you are willing to give.” Was the hummed reply as Prowl reached up when Jazz was close enough, pressing his servos to each side of Jazz’s faceplate to gently bring him closer; pulling him into a slow, passionate kiss.
Melting into the kiss, Jazz kept his servos busy wandering over Prowl’s enticing frame, dipping into gaps, tracing along near invisible seams along his armour. He deliberately kept his digits clear of his lover’s interface panel.
Prowl’s vents huffing out a gust of warm air as they parted, his fans kicking on at the continual teasing. Moving to gnaw gently upon the cables of Jazz’s neck - the slighter mech tilting his helm up to allow him better access - he ghosted his own servos over and down the blue and white frame.
Jazz let a low, pleasured sigh of air out through his intake at the soothing contact, heat coiling through his frame, feeling lubricant already beginning to bead through his valve. Lust slowly driving him mad - Prowl’s talented digits only increasing the heat - he finally pressed his palm flat to the SIC’s panel, drawing a soft hum from Prowl and a cant of his hips. “Open fer me lover...”
The panel slid out of the way with a small click, no more encouragement needed. Immediately, inquisitive digits sought out the flexing valve, tracing the rim and drawing out another gasp.
With a small hint of reluctance, Jazz slipped out of Prowl’s grasp and slowly traveled his way down his frame, capturing and holding the almost navy blue optics, his own still hidden behind his visor. He dropped his gaze upon reaching his partner’s interface array, flicking his glossa along his bottom lip. Leaning forward, he pressed his glossa flat over the space between valve and spike housings, slowly licking up.
Prowl was unable to stop the shudder from vibrating down his frame, optics flickering offline momentarily from the onslaught of pleasure. “Jazz.” He gasped, digits digging into the padding of their berth.
Jazz gave a low hum in response, having licked right up and over the spike housing, watching the tip quivering slightly within it’s confines. With another firm lick, it slipped out, biolights along the impressive length casting a gentle glow across Jazz’s faceplates in the dull lighting of the berthroom.
Giving the proudly erect spike a hungry look, Jazz wasting no time in wrapping his mouth around him, slowly sinking down, swallowing and overriding his gag reflex.
Prowl released a deep moan of Jazz’s name, head lolling to the side as his back arched slightly off the berth. He absently reached down to cup the back of Jazz’s helm, thumb stroking along a sensory horn, drawing a hum form his mate - which only served to heighten Prowl’s pleasure as the vibrations traveled down his spike.
Jazz watched Prowl’s faceplates intently, his own arousal flaring. He loved being able to reduce Prowl, the ever stoic, ‘emotionless’, second in command, to a writhing puddle beneath his servos. Nobody had the slightest idea of what they were missing out on. And Jazz would gladly keep it that way.