Chapter Text
Nice- It was a very nice place, perfectly situated between the husks of two large buildings.
Tap- Prowl tapped the crystal with one gentle digit, smiling at the soft chime it made.
Roses- Humans had roses, Praxians had crystals.
Gagged- Prowl shot up from his berth, vents heaving, the feeling of being gagged still tingling across his derma plating.
Noisy- Few mecha in New Praxus were as noisy as Jazz.
Cat- Prowl was still the only mecha on Cybertron who could sense Jazz when the ex-saboteur was feeling particularly cat-like.
Blunder- Such a blunder could cost a mech a fortune; luckily Prowl caught it in time to heal the crystal and present it to the Prime on the anniversary of the wars-end.
Cough- Prowl’s cool gold optics slid over white and black plating as Jazz’s vents gave another cough.
Tender- Gentle digits drifted tenderly over the deep blue stripe on Jazz’s hood, staying for a moment over the spark plating before moving on as his vents shuddered with another cough.
Kickass- Few mecha, former Enforcers and comrades alike, ever described Prowl in such human terms as ‘kickass’.
Serious- He bent over his workstation, digits steady as he carved a tiny incision into the blue crystal in his servos, faceplates settled into a pensive frown.
Neglect- He was passed the days of neglecting himself for the cause; now his plating gleaned in the sunlight, his optics were bright and healthy, his wings were moving freely, and his tanks were full.
Sway(ing)- Swaying was a natural state of being for Jazz, Prowl decided, watching the other mech absentmindedly dance to festival music.
Comedian- There was no getting around it; while no comedian, Prowl’s dry humor left the residents of New Praxus in stitches on the floor.
Shadow Boxing- He stayed hidden, content for the moment to watch the other train, shadow boxing in the decaying theater.
Incredible- Crystals were hard to grow into incredible works of art.
Mundane- Life was mundane now; sipping ener-tea in the morning, carving crystal in the noon, and reading thrilling adventure stories in the evening.
Guide- Gently, he guided the helm-strong Polyhexian through the more delicate workings of crystal carving.
Submerge- Sighing, Prowl twitched his panels in relish as he submerged in the warm oil.
Sidekick- The human’s had such strange terms for friends; especially when using them to describe his rocky relationship with Jazz.
Hip- Jazz studio was raucous, bright, and lively; just the sort of ‘hip’ place he had always imagined.
Collared- Prowl sensed a rather brief flare of satisfaction as he collared the speedster, his old Enforcer programing humming contentedly in the back of his meta.
Wallet- For the first time in his new functioning; Prowl had to dig around in his proverbial ‘wallet’, his subspace suspiciously bare of all credits.
Roll- For once, he just rolled with it, Jazz’s colorful insights and opinions being true.
Hands- Death would no longer come from these ‘hands’, he vowed, clenching his servos around the tiny growth of new crystal.
Jacket- The new position of Cybertron around it’s young star helped control the acid rain but every once in a while, Prowl wished he had brought his protective ‘jacket’ with him.
Global warfare- Strategy games aside, Prowl frowned at the display for a new M.M.O in the local shop, Global Warfare.
Crazy- He must have been crazy, to give up everything in Metroplex and settle in this barren strip of nothing just outside the ruins of Praxus.
Indulgent- The party was not the loud, extravagant affairs of the ARK and for that Prowl was glad of it as he sent an indulgent smile in Jazz’s direction.
Party- He had a far different party in mind for Jazz when he came over the next day.
Cry- Crying was a weakness one could not have in war and he was glad he could now cry with joy over the wonderful news that Bluestreak was bonding.
Pound of Flesh- Money was not the reason he did this; though he could have demanded his pound of flesh from the new government at any time.
Punch- Old habits died hard, he mused, dodging the punch Jazz aimed his way.
Absorb- He stilled in the doorway, door wings flared up to absorb the sweet vibrations of the crystal harp Jazz strummed absently.
Stiff- Jazz went stiff as a board as Prowl lightly brushed up against him, trailing an hidden servo over warm plating.
Contract- It was all written in their contract, a simple business transaction, and Prowl turned his battle computer over to how long it could take for him to break it and move their relationship in a more personal direction.
Stumbling- It was often that Jazz stumbled but when he did, many began to notice that Prowl was often nearby and would catch him with a teasing word or two.
Encounter- Their first encounter had not gone well; they had been hostile and stiff.
Temple- It was the first permanent building that had gone up in New Praxus; not just a Temple to Primus, but a temple to all that needed peace.
Patio- After reinforcing the building and beginning his garden, Prowl focused on a covered patio so he could work surrounded by beauty.
Candlelight- Months after their first disastrous meeting, Prowl invited Jazz over for a platonic dinner, even if he placed tinted crystal around for ‘candlelight.’
Stripes- Jazz was all stripes; crimson red and deep blue that twisted over stripes of black and white, light and dark chasing each other over elegant form.
Foul- Immediately, Prowl knew Jazz had messed up the ratio of energon to minerals…he could smell the foul stench even across the city.
Hurdle- The last hurdle had been crossed when Jazz tentatively accepted Prowl’s chaste kiss to his servo.
Chances- Few mecha received a second chance in their lives, so it was with great pleasure and no small amount of fear that Prowl dove into this second chance to win Jazz’s trust with a gusto he rarely displayed.
Forgetten- “Ain’t ya forgetten’ somethin’, Prowl?” Prowl turned with a raised brow plate and crossed to Jazz’s side. “Never” He whispered with a gentle kiss to the sensor horn.
Unforgivable- Somethings were unforgivable and Prowl was never going to forget that, especially when it came to Starscream.
Sinking- It was a frightening feeling, that sinking sensation Prowl got whenever Jazz glanced with a flare of bright blue and smiled at him.
Deal- It all started with that deal; lesson in crystal carving for a space in Jazz’s studio and Prowl would never regret it.
Friendship- Once the initial dislike had been overcome, their friendship settled enough that Prowl invited Jazz into his work shop.