Mission - Rescue
Nov. 13th, 2008 12:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: Mission - Rescue
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Mission'verse.
Rating: M
Warnings: Slash. Canon and characterisation butchering.
Jazz hummed softly to the music he had playing (since his roommate was out, he’d taken the opportunity to turn up the volume a little) as he checked his messages, alighting on the most recent. It looked innocent enough, a subject header that read like one of the many ‘Hey take a look at this’ time wasters that made their way between friends, acquaintances and sometimes even complete strangers. He had time; Ops training was over for the cycle, and he had nothing pressing to take care of.
When the image loaded, his air intakes stalled and he sputtered like a fool for a good breem before dread kicked in and he bolted for the door, sending a frantic comm. to a mech he hoped would help. A puzzled agreement reached him and he briefly indulged in a moment of relief as he ran through the Academy, avoiding oncoming bots with the grace that characterised him, ducking into the lesser populated passages to take a shortcut.
There. Oh Primus, it was worse than the picture had been. His roommate was practically covered in energon, and the stuff was dripping in all sorts of processor overheating ways down the mech’s frame. The splashes on the door panels flaring out behind the mech drew his attention, and he couldn’t help but stare before coming to his senses, reaching out of the little side corridor he was in, grabbing hold of Prowl and yanking the other black and white into the relative safety of the maintenance passages.
“Frag. What happened?”
“A collision between a mech carrying too much energon and another in a hurry. I happened to be in the flight path of the cubes, and got covered in it.” The irritated tone made Jazz pause in his hurry to get his friend out of the public eye.
“You have no idea what you look like right now, do you.”
“You mean, like a mess? I assure you I know exactly how unkempt I must appear. Worse luck, I know someone took image captures.”
“For the love of- Prowl. I’m gonna skip all the teasing I’d normally do and say it straight, ‘cos we need to hurry. You look hot. ‘I wanna ‘face you against the nearest wall in public right now’ type of hot. Edible. And if you don’t get cleaned up soon, those bots on our tail are gonna try!” The rapacious looks on the faceplates of the crowd following Prowl had sent Jazz’s spark into panicky flutters. And his roomie was fragging oblivious to it all.
“What?” Really, really fragging oblivious. Jazz was going to tear out a circuit in frustration one fine orn.
“Trust me.”
“Very well. I was going to the wash racks anyway.”
“I got a buddy of mine from my intake batch ‘fore I got transferred up to meet us there. Hologram specialist. Name’s Hound. He’ll help hide you.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“Say I’m paranoid if it helps, but yeah I think so!”
The tactician trainee’s reply was lost as he got shoved into a stall in the public wash racks and a dark green mech moved between the pair of black and whites and the entrance. A glimmer of light danced in front of the green mech, indicating that a hologram was in place, and Hound turned back to look at his friend and the mech his friend had been beside himself about.
The sight made him stall. The energon covered mech with doorwings was pressed against the tiled wall by another black and white mech, transferring some of that pink fluid to the other mech’s frame. Jazz did not seem to notice their suggestive position, and was staring past Hound and through the hologram as the sound of bots hurrying into the washracks, searching for a target he knew to be Prowl came to his audios. Said target was also staring past the hologram, surprised realisation on his faceplates.
Only when the bots left, sounding disappointed, did Jazz relax from his tense posture, sighing and dropping his head onto the front of Prowl’s chassis.
“That was close.”
Hound couldn’t stop the revving of his engine if he tried. At his friend’s curious, then slowly growing devious look, he started backing away.
“Ah… Seems like you two are gonna be alright now, so I’ll just be going-”
Jazz purred, leaning his head forward to lap at the energon splattering Prowl’s frame. Frag, the pair were together. Hound cursed his traitorous engine for revving once more. He should have realised. But… but Jazz had… with… Primus his processors couldn’t cope with this.
“Don’t, I haven’t thanked you for your help yet.”
“There’s no need! Really! Happy to help!”
“Please. I want to tender my appreciation for your aid as well. In fact I insist.” And now Jazz’s friend was getting in on the act. The mech’s voice was very persuasive, and against his mental protests, the green mech found himself stopping in his tracks. At Jazz’s beckoning gesture he found himself drawing closer.
“Have you refuelled yet Hound?” Vocaliser unable to make a sound, he shook his head, and Jazz smiled, reaching for his hand and pulling him forward the final few steps.
“Neither have I, but I’ve got an energon goodie right here I’m willing to share.” The Spec Ops trainee demonstrated his point by trailing Hound’s fingertips through the pink fluid coating the nearest doorwing and bringing those digits to his mouth, slowly licking them off, and Hound couldn’t stifle his sudden intake of air.
“Funny, tastes better this way.” A white hand skimmed across a glowing patch on Jazz’s frame, picking up some of the energon that had previously relocated over, and as Prowl cleaned off his fingers, repeating the visored mech’s gesture, Hound could hear Jazz’s intakes making a desperate attempt to cool his systems as well.
“I should beg to differ, Jazz.”
“Oh, I’ll make you beg alright.” And the tactician trainee was suddenly assaulted by his friend, as denta nibbled on neck cables and energon splatters were slowly removed with a glossa. The black and white’s frame was trembling a little now, little hitches occurring each time he drew air into his intakes, as if he couldn’t do so fast enough to keep his systems from overheating.
“Hound, help me get Prowler cleaned up, will you?” How the mech could say something so innocent while behaving in a manner that was anything but sent his CPU into a foggy daze, one that was probably responsible as to why he did as asked by Jazz. The Spec Ops trainee had moved on to a doorwing, drawing a soft gasp from Prowl, and a little chuckle from Hound.
“Hush. My holograms don’t hide noise, and we wouldn’t want to bring your… admirers back here to investigate now, would we.” The sight of the tactician trainee biting a lip to muffle his response to their attention set his engine to revving even harder, and suddenly he found himself with the urge to test the mech’s restraint.
Glancing over at Jazz, he found the same desire reflected back at him, and with a matching grin, Hound dropped to his knees in front of Prowl to follow the trail of energon that traced enticing patterns along pale grey thighs. Jazz redoubled his efforts on the mech’s chestplates, and between them Prowl was soon shaking with pent up need and pleasure, optics shuttered and head pressed back against the wall.
A shaky hand groped along the wall, and finding what it sought, grasped and twisted the knob that sent a spray of cool water down on the three, clearing the haze that occupied Prowl’s CPU. Their overheated frames caused the liquid to hiss and steam slightly, as the energon was washed away (not that there was much left).
Now slightly more able to think clearly, the tactician trainee began his plan of retaliation, flaring his energy fields in slow, teasing bursts over the other two. Twin intakes of air answered him and he found himself trapped between the mechs, Jazz at his back and Hound before him. That was fine; he still needed to show his gratitude for Hound’s help anyway.
White hands reached for the green frame, and he demonstrated just how thankful he was as Hound quivered and choked with the effort of keeping his vocaliser muted. Somewhere along the line, Jazz had slipped behind Hound and now the hologram specialist was the one being sandwiched.
Who overloaded first, no one could tell, but as the three stood under the shower, letting it help bring their frames back to normal temperature, Hound spoke, CPU finally clear and guilt starting to eat at him.
“You didn’t have to, really. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Hound.”
“But… I shouldn’t have infringed on your relationship like that.”
“Hound, first, we kinda didn’t give you much of a choice. Second, we’re not in one.” Jazz’s reply stalled him again, and at Prowl’s commiserating look he got the feeling that the Spec Ops mech delighted in causing such events.
“You’re not?” Confusion clear on his faceplates, he twisted ‘round to look at the visored mech.
“We’re not. Friends, yes. Occasional berthmates, yes. But we both think we’re too young for a serious, my one and only type of thing. So relax, you didn’t do anything to frag up our non-existent relationship.”
The green mech shuttered optics briefly as the Ops trainee’s words sank in.
“Oh.”
The pair of black and whites had to muffle snickers in his chassis as a slow grin peeked its way across Hound’s faceplates, and the green mech drawled out his next query.
“So, does that mean we can do this again sometime?”
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Mission'verse.
Rating: M
Warnings: Slash. Canon and characterisation butchering.
Jazz hummed softly to the music he had playing (since his roommate was out, he’d taken the opportunity to turn up the volume a little) as he checked his messages, alighting on the most recent. It looked innocent enough, a subject header that read like one of the many ‘Hey take a look at this’ time wasters that made their way between friends, acquaintances and sometimes even complete strangers. He had time; Ops training was over for the cycle, and he had nothing pressing to take care of.
When the image loaded, his air intakes stalled and he sputtered like a fool for a good breem before dread kicked in and he bolted for the door, sending a frantic comm. to a mech he hoped would help. A puzzled agreement reached him and he briefly indulged in a moment of relief as he ran through the Academy, avoiding oncoming bots with the grace that characterised him, ducking into the lesser populated passages to take a shortcut.
There. Oh Primus, it was worse than the picture had been. His roommate was practically covered in energon, and the stuff was dripping in all sorts of processor overheating ways down the mech’s frame. The splashes on the door panels flaring out behind the mech drew his attention, and he couldn’t help but stare before coming to his senses, reaching out of the little side corridor he was in, grabbing hold of Prowl and yanking the other black and white into the relative safety of the maintenance passages.
“Frag. What happened?”
“A collision between a mech carrying too much energon and another in a hurry. I happened to be in the flight path of the cubes, and got covered in it.” The irritated tone made Jazz pause in his hurry to get his friend out of the public eye.
“You have no idea what you look like right now, do you.”
“You mean, like a mess? I assure you I know exactly how unkempt I must appear. Worse luck, I know someone took image captures.”
“For the love of- Prowl. I’m gonna skip all the teasing I’d normally do and say it straight, ‘cos we need to hurry. You look hot. ‘I wanna ‘face you against the nearest wall in public right now’ type of hot. Edible. And if you don’t get cleaned up soon, those bots on our tail are gonna try!” The rapacious looks on the faceplates of the crowd following Prowl had sent Jazz’s spark into panicky flutters. And his roomie was fragging oblivious to it all.
“What?” Really, really fragging oblivious. Jazz was going to tear out a circuit in frustration one fine orn.
“Trust me.”
“Very well. I was going to the wash racks anyway.”
“I got a buddy of mine from my intake batch ‘fore I got transferred up to meet us there. Hologram specialist. Name’s Hound. He’ll help hide you.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“Say I’m paranoid if it helps, but yeah I think so!”
The tactician trainee’s reply was lost as he got shoved into a stall in the public wash racks and a dark green mech moved between the pair of black and whites and the entrance. A glimmer of light danced in front of the green mech, indicating that a hologram was in place, and Hound turned back to look at his friend and the mech his friend had been beside himself about.
The sight made him stall. The energon covered mech with doorwings was pressed against the tiled wall by another black and white mech, transferring some of that pink fluid to the other mech’s frame. Jazz did not seem to notice their suggestive position, and was staring past Hound and through the hologram as the sound of bots hurrying into the washracks, searching for a target he knew to be Prowl came to his audios. Said target was also staring past the hologram, surprised realisation on his faceplates.
Only when the bots left, sounding disappointed, did Jazz relax from his tense posture, sighing and dropping his head onto the front of Prowl’s chassis.
“That was close.”
Hound couldn’t stop the revving of his engine if he tried. At his friend’s curious, then slowly growing devious look, he started backing away.
“Ah… Seems like you two are gonna be alright now, so I’ll just be going-”
Jazz purred, leaning his head forward to lap at the energon splattering Prowl’s frame. Frag, the pair were together. Hound cursed his traitorous engine for revving once more. He should have realised. But… but Jazz had… with… Primus his processors couldn’t cope with this.
“Don’t, I haven’t thanked you for your help yet.”
“There’s no need! Really! Happy to help!”
“Please. I want to tender my appreciation for your aid as well. In fact I insist.” And now Jazz’s friend was getting in on the act. The mech’s voice was very persuasive, and against his mental protests, the green mech found himself stopping in his tracks. At Jazz’s beckoning gesture he found himself drawing closer.
“Have you refuelled yet Hound?” Vocaliser unable to make a sound, he shook his head, and Jazz smiled, reaching for his hand and pulling him forward the final few steps.
“Neither have I, but I’ve got an energon goodie right here I’m willing to share.” The Spec Ops trainee demonstrated his point by trailing Hound’s fingertips through the pink fluid coating the nearest doorwing and bringing those digits to his mouth, slowly licking them off, and Hound couldn’t stifle his sudden intake of air.
“Funny, tastes better this way.” A white hand skimmed across a glowing patch on Jazz’s frame, picking up some of the energon that had previously relocated over, and as Prowl cleaned off his fingers, repeating the visored mech’s gesture, Hound could hear Jazz’s intakes making a desperate attempt to cool his systems as well.
“I should beg to differ, Jazz.”
“Oh, I’ll make you beg alright.” And the tactician trainee was suddenly assaulted by his friend, as denta nibbled on neck cables and energon splatters were slowly removed with a glossa. The black and white’s frame was trembling a little now, little hitches occurring each time he drew air into his intakes, as if he couldn’t do so fast enough to keep his systems from overheating.
“Hound, help me get Prowler cleaned up, will you?” How the mech could say something so innocent while behaving in a manner that was anything but sent his CPU into a foggy daze, one that was probably responsible as to why he did as asked by Jazz. The Spec Ops trainee had moved on to a doorwing, drawing a soft gasp from Prowl, and a little chuckle from Hound.
“Hush. My holograms don’t hide noise, and we wouldn’t want to bring your… admirers back here to investigate now, would we.” The sight of the tactician trainee biting a lip to muffle his response to their attention set his engine to revving even harder, and suddenly he found himself with the urge to test the mech’s restraint.
Glancing over at Jazz, he found the same desire reflected back at him, and with a matching grin, Hound dropped to his knees in front of Prowl to follow the trail of energon that traced enticing patterns along pale grey thighs. Jazz redoubled his efforts on the mech’s chestplates, and between them Prowl was soon shaking with pent up need and pleasure, optics shuttered and head pressed back against the wall.
A shaky hand groped along the wall, and finding what it sought, grasped and twisted the knob that sent a spray of cool water down on the three, clearing the haze that occupied Prowl’s CPU. Their overheated frames caused the liquid to hiss and steam slightly, as the energon was washed away (not that there was much left).
Now slightly more able to think clearly, the tactician trainee began his plan of retaliation, flaring his energy fields in slow, teasing bursts over the other two. Twin intakes of air answered him and he found himself trapped between the mechs, Jazz at his back and Hound before him. That was fine; he still needed to show his gratitude for Hound’s help anyway.
White hands reached for the green frame, and he demonstrated just how thankful he was as Hound quivered and choked with the effort of keeping his vocaliser muted. Somewhere along the line, Jazz had slipped behind Hound and now the hologram specialist was the one being sandwiched.
Who overloaded first, no one could tell, but as the three stood under the shower, letting it help bring their frames back to normal temperature, Hound spoke, CPU finally clear and guilt starting to eat at him.
“You didn’t have to, really. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Hound.”
“But… I shouldn’t have infringed on your relationship like that.”
“Hound, first, we kinda didn’t give you much of a choice. Second, we’re not in one.” Jazz’s reply stalled him again, and at Prowl’s commiserating look he got the feeling that the Spec Ops mech delighted in causing such events.
“You’re not?” Confusion clear on his faceplates, he twisted ‘round to look at the visored mech.
“We’re not. Friends, yes. Occasional berthmates, yes. But we both think we’re too young for a serious, my one and only type of thing. So relax, you didn’t do anything to frag up our non-existent relationship.”
The green mech shuttered optics briefly as the Ops trainee’s words sank in.
“Oh.”
The pair of black and whites had to muffle snickers in his chassis as a slow grin peeked its way across Hound’s faceplates, and the green mech drawled out his next query.
“So, does that mean we can do this again sometime?”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-12 03:02 pm (UTC)Hmm, I do so wonder what Mirage would have to say about this...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-12 07:58 pm (UTC)In this bit, 'Raj hasn't met them yet, so I wouldn't know ^^;; I should put up a timeline of sorts for this, but the bunny is being non-linear again.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-12 03:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-12 07:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-12 05:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-12 07:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-12 07:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-12 07:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-13 10:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-13 08:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-15 04:49 am (UTC)Love the interaction at the end - Hound's parting comments was TDF.
You really rock at this. Clueless!Prowl=teh smexy.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-15 06:57 am (UTC)Wow
Date: 2008-11-18 09:10 pm (UTC)Re: Wow
Date: 2008-11-18 09:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-02 10:11 am (UTC)Prowl covered in energon, yum! And Hound! Yay!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-04 03:42 pm (UTC)