The Military Lord and the Hero's Creation

The Military Lord and the Hero's Creation 06: Hunting

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Jazz sighed, looking out across the main courtyard of the compound. Since their fight and making up, Jazz had devoted a lot of time and effort to learning of Prowl's duties and responsibilities, and as much time as possible to getting to know Prowl personally. While he had plenty to distract himself with, the small mech had been accustomed to roaming as he pleased, and being confined to the House compound, as large as it was, was starting to wear on him after two full metacycles.

The light touch of the only mecha here that could walk up on him without being noticed didn't startle him, but drew him to lean back against his intended's chest.

"You are unhappy," Prowl murmured, drawing Jazz even closer.

"Not unhappy." Jazz was quick to reassure him, leaning into Prowl and the familiar comfort. "Just..." He let his field spread out, brushing against Prowl's.

Restless. Bored with being trapped inside. A little homesick for parts of his old life.

"We can visit the city, or go hunting," Prowl offered.

There was a surge of hopeful excitement through the touching fields as Jazz titled his helm to look up at his intended, visor bright. "Anything to get out would be nice."

"Our House owns an estate of wild lands," Prowl smiled gently. "While we would be required to have guards for the drive there, once on the hunting grounds we can be by ourselves."

"I don't kill for sport." Jazz informed him quietly. "The monks frowned on that."

"We can use stun bolts," Prowl suggested.

Jazz shifted in his arms, field picking back up again. "That could be fun." He agreed, the prospect looking better the longer he thought about it.

While he really did want to see more of the province's capitol before he was bonded and confined to the compound for several vorns, the possibility of being out in the wildlands again was tempting.

"I will make the arrangements, then," Prowl leaned in for a chaste kiss. "It will be a few orns before we leave. I may have a great deal of freedom, but my duties can not be ignored."

"Of course not." Jazz agreed, lips meeting Prowl's again in another kiss, content with the promise of being able to get out and the ease of which it had been offered. After two metacycles he knew, intimately, how to read Prowl's willingness. With this, his intended was quite willing, both to the trip and the no-kill concession.

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The drive had been quiet, Prowl's natural inclination towards not talking unless he had something relevant to say leaving Jazz to take in the surroundings they traveled through and the manners of their escorts. At least to Jazz, it seemed that while they were alert and took their duties seriously, they did not regard Prowl as someone who particularly needed protection.

He was also grateful for the fact that while they were clearly protecting him, they were not crowding and smothering him like he was a helpless sparkling either.

He had plenty of time to observe on the trip, feeling the life of the city give way to the life of the countryside, a difference that relaxed Jazz and excited him at the same time. This was something he was familiar with, an environment that he could handle and where he was in his element.

It felt so good.

Prowl's field reached out to caress his, affection and pleasure mingled in it. He had spent enough time out here when he was younger to feel at home in the wildlands as well, though he'd had few opportunities since his first campaign and proving he was worthy of bearing the title of Lord of the Shining Sun.

The local land was proving to be somewhat different than where he had grown up, Jazz noted as they traveled, his field still lightly joined with Prowl to share affection and pleasure they were both feeling at being out and about and moving. Simfur was a landscape broken by mountains, ridges, and canyons with crysto-metallic foliage that reflected the environment. The towering foliage and open expanses of wildlands surrounding Praxus and its outlying territory was new enough to be fascinating.

But the closer Jazz looked the more confident he grew that he would be able to handle this without any problems, and maybe in impress his intended a little in the process. That would feel very good, to be able to do something valuable to Prowl that was outside the reason he had been betrothed to Prowl. At least he hoped Prowl would find it valuable. It was difficult to tell, even after studying the Praxian intensely for two metacycles.

They cruised around a bend and the carefully guarded wildlands and the view opened to a wonderfully wild crystal garden with carefully maintained paths surrounding a delightfully small lodge the House of the Shinning Sun maintained for their hunting trips.

Jazz transformed as soon as they stopped, interest captured by the garden that was sculpted and maintained to look like it belonged here. To someone who knew as much as he did there was no way something like it would exist untended, but whoever had created it had put a great deal effort into making it a part of its surroundings and not an invader.

He was impressed, and nodded in appreciation as he turned his attention back to his intended and their escort.

Prowl smiled and offered his arm. "We maintain only a very small staff here. It is likely to be much more like the conditions you grew up with than what you have become accustomed to."

Jazz smiled a little. In truth, he still wasn't used to the way things were in the House of Shining Sun. His creator's House had always been busy, and for the most part if there wasn't someone available to do it for you when you wanted it done, you learned to do it yourself. He was still adjusting to Bronze Evening, and he still hadn't quite come to terms with the idea that if he wanted to he could probably spend entire orns not lifting a finger for himself. He'd gotten the distinct impression that his intended approved of his independence and ability to take care of himself without complaint.

"I think I'll manage," Jazz smiled as they walked and he took in the garden from the inside, their guards and Prowl's two slaves following quietly.

"I am sure you will," Prowl actually purred slightly, the flash of approval strong in his field. "I have cleared a full six orns for our stay, including at least three orns in the field."

The mech on his arm twitched in surprise, visor flashing as he looked over at Prowl.

At most Jazz had been hoping that Prowl would be able to get away for a couple of orns. That his intended had arranged to be away for so long almost had him worried that there was something wrong.

"We can return earlier if you wish," Prowl offered uneasily. "You seemed so eager to be away from the compound."

"No." Jazz's field brushed against his, rich with how excited and pleased Jazz was. "I didn't think you would be able to get away so long, with your duties."

"Ah," Prowl relaxed visibly as the main door opened for them onto a grand entry way by Jazz's standards, though he could see how modest and rustic it was by Shining Sun standards. "I am stubborn and I bore easily. I did not wish to interrupt by duties any more than needed for our courting. It has been selfish of me not to adjust my schedule more to accommodate your arrival. I did not wish you to become accustomed to having my full attentions when I would not be able to maintain it long past our bonding period. However, it is not uncommon for me to be away for a decaorn or more on business with the Prime, to other cities or to hunt."

Neither of the traits Prowl used to describe himself surprised Jazz. They were things he had seen in his intended for himself. And in all honesty, the changes that Prowl had made to accommodate him had been far more than he had expected when he had learned that he was to be the first bonded of a House Heir.

"I am glad you did not." He admitted. "Perhaps in the future I will be able to accompany you when you travel." If he could prove his presence a benefit.

"I have little doubt you will," Prowl said smoothly as he guided Jazz up the central staircase to the living quarters on the second floor. The largest of the nine suites, the central one, was what Prowl claimed for them. "After our first is old enough I am sure you will travel with me more often than not."

It was something of a relief to Prowl that Jazz no longer flinched in frame or field when there was mention of the creation that was soon expected of them. While the younger was still not excited by the prospect, he at least no longer seemed to dread the idea.

Jazz looked around the suite, noting how it fit in the with the rest of the decor, reflecting the House and not really any one personal taste, since the lodge was shared among the family. "I look forward to it."

"Would you care to rest before we refuel?" Prowl offered.

"If you wish to." Jazz responded easily, more than happy to spend time with Prowl. The trip hadn't really taken that much out of him, and his natural curiosity had him wanting to explore the rest of the lodge and possibly the surrounding gardens.

"I do, though you are welcome to explore the formal grounds as you please," Prowl leaned over to kiss him lightly. "They are considered as safe as the compound in Praxus."

Jazz leaned into the kiss, purring softly. "Than we can rest, and you can show them to me later."

Prowl hummed softly with contentment and drew Jazz to the large, soft berth. Despite the affection in Prowl's field, there was no missing that he truly wished to recharge. There was a tired edge to the Praxian that was rare, even when he was ready to collapse.

Jazz waited as Prowl settled before snuggling against the larger frame in a pattern that was warm and familiar to them both after more than a metacycle of sharing a berth. His hands roved lightly over his intended's frame, touches that were soothing and relaxing and a little concerned.

"There is nothing to be concerned about," Prowl stroked Jazz's back absently. "I am merely accustomed to recharging a great deal while on vacation."

Jazz hummed in understanding, changing the pressure of his strokes to the intensity that seemed to relax his intended the most. If Prowl wished to recharge Jazz was certainly willing to help him reach that state.

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It felt good.

Amazing. Fantastic. Jazz hadn't felt like since he had arrived in Praxus. And he reveled in it as he followed his intended through the wilderness, slipping along silently behind the Praxian frame as they set out for their first day of hunting.

Already Jazz could feel himself sinking into the familiar state of being aware of everything that was around without consciously thinking about it. It also gave him a greater appreciation for his intended's designation.

Prowl.

The mech was called that for good reason. He was utterly silent. His systems. His pedefalls. The way he held himself so no armor rubbed.

What he wasn't, was in love with the wildlands. He moved smoothly enough, but he was tense too.

Jazz slipped closer, field brushing against Prowl's, offering how wonderful this felt to Jazz and wondering a little at his intended's state of tension.

Reassurance slid back before an ultra-short ran comm opened. ::Hunting is not a safe activity. Neither are wildlands.::

Jazz had to think about that, slightly baffled. He understood what Prowl was saying- his teachers had instilled in him a great respect for the wildlands and the creatures that roamed them. They had taught him understand them, to survive, and to love them.

::Has something happened before?::

::There is only a 16.1839% probability that a noble will not be extinguished while hunting in any given vorn.::

The smaller mech wasn't sure how to respond to that, and tilted his helm to focus on his intended for a few strides, working through this side of Prowl. ::So why do you do it?::

Sensor wings flared silently but to their full span and extension as Prowl froze, his full focus on whatever he had sensed. Abruptly he relaxed into his prior state of awareness. ::It is an effective way to keep my senses and skill sharp when we are not on campaign. Praxus does not produce enough criminals sentenced to a long deactivation to hunt them often enough.::

Jazz had to concede that point. He had done some homework on the province of his new House, and Praxus was very stable and safe compared to others. ::But you don't enjoy being out here.:: He finally concluded.

::I have never had a reason to enjoy it,:: Prowl shrugged a wing. ::Most of the time I'm in wildlands I'm on campaign. The rest is hunting. Neither are what I consider relaxing.::

::You've never gone out in them just to look around? To walk?:: Jazz was having a hard time comprehending that.

Prowl spared him an unreadable glance. ::I do not have that kind of free time. Everything must serve a function.::

Jazz heaved an internal sigh and let the subject drop in favor of something more concrete. ::So what are we hunting?::

::Razor boar,:: Prowl supplied. ::Though there are many other options if you prefer.::

Jazz's field flickered. He had hunted boar before, when there had been some doing damage to structures in some of the smaller settlements and threatening the inhabitants. It was one of the few times that Jazz had hunted to deactivate without any reservations. He could still clearly the torn and battered frames of the mecha who had been attacked, one barely more than a youngling that had only survived because he had managed to make it up a sturdy tree. His brother had not been so lucky.

It also explained why Prowl had said they would want to carry real weapons as backup this orn.

::Are you having problems with one?::

::Not that I'm aware of,:: Prowl answered. ::I believed you would enjoy the challenge.::

Jazz's field flickered with agreement and a touch of pride, his systems settling and his focus sharpening now that he knew what they were looking for. Senses starting looking for signs of their quarry as he fell into stride.

Prowl's field caressed his in pleasure at calculating his intended's desires correctly. Then he too focused on the hunt.

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Jazz stopped when Prowl did, scanning the area around them carefully. Darkness was falling, and under the cover of the tall, study, old-growth dark crystal trees it was growing dim quickly, signaling the end of the orn and their hunting time.

They had found signs of their quarry, but the freshest of them had been an orn old. Still, it meant that there were some in the area, and the next sunrise might bring them better luck.

Without a sound Prowl settled with his back against one of the huge crystal trunks and pulled out two cubes, offering one to Jazz.

The smaller mech took it with a nod of thanks, settling down to consume the energon that he actually needed this time. He had almost forgotten how much more fuel being on the move with heightened senses all orn like this consumed.

It had been a very different orn. He had spent every bit of it with Prowl, working, and not a sound passed between them. Even their comms had been largely silent.

He'd learned two important things about Prowl. First, his intended was intense when he was on a mission, and second, while Prowl knew what he was doing, tracking was something Jazz was actually better at. It was a small source of comfort and pride to have found something that he was better at than his intended. It had been ever better because as soon as Prowl had realized that Jazz was better he started trusting and relying on the smaller mech.

Jazz finished his energon and settled into an easy but alert crouch, waiting for Prowl to finish his as well.

"We should be able to find it tomorrow," Prowl said quietly, finishing his cube and dispersing it in a smooth motion. "I brought a hammock for us both."

"Hammock?" Jazz repeated softly. "That will be something new."

Prowl cocked his helm slightly. "What did you typically recharge on?"

"A tree." Jazz explained with a small shrug. "Find one that has a nice place to brace yourself and recharge. Got caught having to spend the night on the ground a couple of times, and that is a entirely different game."

Prowl nodded, the cant of his wings relaxing slightly. "I've had my fill of recharging without wing support on campaign. I don't believe in bringing the luxuries of home out here, but a hammock is light, quick and makes it much more pleasant for my frametype."

There was a great deal of logic behind that, especially since Jazz was intimately aware of his just how sensitive a Praxian's sensor wings were. The smaller mech glanced up, taking in the tree that Prowl was leaning against. "Using that one?"

"It is a good choice," Prowl inclined his helm slightly. "It is well suited to support both of us in the hammock ... and several branches are wide enough for other activities," he purred softly.

There was an answering caress from Jazz's field, warm and playful, before he was up the tree to have a better look. Prowl was up in an agile set of leaps, following a slightly different path before coming to a stop on a ledge and sliding his hands along Jazz's sides with a kiss to the back of his neck.

The small mech quivered at the touch and moaned, arching to press his frame into Prowl's hands. "Should we get your hammock set up first?"

"Mmm, there is no need," Prowl rumbled, revving his powerful engine to vibrate their frames. "I can set it up in my recharge if need be."

The vibrations had his intended melting back against him, willing for whatever Prowl was proposing as he turned his head for a kiss that was willingly granted. Strong white hands continued to stroke and excite circuitry along Jazz's sides before moving in to tease his abdominals.

"Perhaps you are ready to spike me from behind?" Prowl purred deeply.

Jazz's engine rumbled softly in agreement, his spike cover sliding away. It wasn't his favorite activity, but he'd do it any time just for the access it gave him to those lovely sensor wings and the pleasure that it brought his intended. It wasn't as if it was bad, there were just other paths to overload that he liked so much better ... though with two seals still intact, he was always willing to admit that his opinion could change.

Strong white fingers teased Jazz's spike housing, ghosting around the rim to set off the sensors there and causing the smaller mech to moan and shudder as his spike pressurized into the touch.

"You are beautiful in pleasure," Prowl whispered against an audial horn before taking it into his mouth to lavish it with attention while his fingers stroked the pressurizing spike slowly, drawing out the foreplay until Jazz was in that unique state of melted against him and all but vibrating with need.

"Thought you wanted me to do something..." Jazz groaned softly, the level of pleasure in his field suggesting that if Prowl continued in his attentions much longer his lover was going to overload without him.

"I do," he purred, relinquishing his hold on both sensor horn and spike, only to kiss Jazz's neck and slide his hands up Jazz's sides before stepping back and settling on his hands and knees, his sensor wings spread and angled backwards and slick valve bared.

It took his lover a moment to focus enough to regain control of his frame before rising and settling behind the Praxian, taking in the handsome frame. With a purr that vibrated through his entire frame he slid up against the larger mech, hands running slowly over the wings angled for his attention, teasing pleasure from them first and reveling in the deep, core-deep vibrations he garnered.

"Please," Prowl moaned, his frame trembling and pressing into the contact even as he desperately wanted more.

As much as he loved to draw the pleasure out, teasing his lover until the other mech was right on the edge, Prowl had been one step ahead of him tonight, pushing Jazz first so the smaller mech would be too wound up to hold out for long.

With a moan of agreement one of Jazz's hands abandoned the wing it was teasing to slide over the rim of the valve, feeling the wetness and heat from it as his fingers slipped inside. The ready response he received was all he needed to reach down and slowly guide his spike into the wonderfully welcoming valve with a moan that Prowl echoed.

"Yes," Prowl nearly hissed in the glorious sensation of being filled. Sensor nodes deep inside him lit up, sending jolts of tingling pleasure into him as they were pressed and rubbed against.

Once he was fully seated Jazz stopped for a moment, finding the balance and traction he needed in the unfamiliar environment and taking a moment to lavish attention on the sensor wings spread temptingly before him. Prowl moaned, trembling and pressing his wings into the attendant hands with an abandon that was as clear as his field just how little work Jazz had left to push him over the edge.

Satisfied, and already venting hard from the feel of the valve rippling around his spike Jazz drew back and thrust in, forcing himself to find some control as he found an angle and a rhythm that made Prowl keen in bliss and lash out through his field with all the pleasure charging his systems, sharing the glory of being filled with a mech that had not yet experienced it.

The rush of pleasure shattered what slivers of control Jazz had left, the smaller mech grabbing Prowl's hips and managing a few final thrusts before overloading forcefully in the Praxian's valve. That pounding stream of hot, charge-heavy transfluid was all it took to cause Prowl to bellow, rattling the crystals all around and startling wildlife into the air or bolting for cover. His valve contracted tightly, milking Jazz for all he was worth and flooding as much pleasure into their fields as his lover.

Jazz collapsed onto his lover, spent and sated and so terribly pleased with what he was getting from Prowl. With a smile he indulged in one of his personal pleasures, nuzzling and stroking at the beautiful sensor wings still in his reach. They quivered and drew a deep, resonant moan from Prowl that was full of pleasure and desire.

"Feel good?" Jazz teased softly, focusing his attention on all of the little things he knew drove Prowl wild- the concentrated sensor bundles at the base of the wings, the even pressure of his palms along the flat expanses, his slender fingers slipping into the fine joints.

"Yessss," Prowl hissed, his frame shivering with a building charge. So close on the heels of his last one it would take half a breem ... if he kept himself from working the spike still inside him.

"So much fun..." Jazz purred, teasing the edges of the wings now. As good as his own pleasure felt, the way Prowl allowed him to give, to focus completely on his intended, was at least as good. He knew, after two metacycles of careful observation that for Prowl to allow this was not just an act of trust in Jazz, but a gift to him as well. They had that desire to give pleasure in common.

Jazz purred softly, nuzzling and stroking the wings, pleased with how they twitched and moved under his hands. "Love it when you let go." He murmured. A rush of affection poured from Prowl's field to mix with the pleasure there.

"Such a quick study," Prowl moaned, his processors already half scrambled between the first overload and the building pleasure from his wings.

"Thank you." Jazz purred, hands gliding along the wings stimulate more sensor nodes as he shifted his attention to licking and mouthing the housing and cables, wanting to feel his intended loose control from the pleasure. Of all he'd been shown, this, the pleasure from touch, was the most intimate. It required knowing your lover to do it well.

Prowl gave no doubts as to whether or not what Jazz did was working.

And oh, but stroking those wings always worked.

Prowl's valve began to ripple and squeeze as the charge built in his frame. A shiver ran through Jazz's frame as his spike was stimulated once more, and a small moan escaped him before he focused his attention once more, determined to bring the mech under him to overload again, sensing the slowly building charge and fanning the flame with each touch and stroke.

White fingers clawed into the crystal they were kneeling on as Prowl gave in and allowed his frame to do as it pleased. He rocked back, rubbing their interface arrays together, squeezed and rippled his valve around the spike inside him and gave his wings full range to press and silently guide the touch that was blanking his processors to everything but the intense sensations Jazz was creating in him.

Pleasure that was returned to him as Jazz savored every sensation that Prowl shared with him, fingers and glossa seeking to find that final tipping point that would push Prowl over the edge. His lover was close, so very deliciously close.

With almost no warning Prowl keened sharply as every cable in his frame tightened. Electricity crackled across his frame, between his wings, and into Jazz. The surge was enough to send Jazz into a milder overload of his own, though the small shivers of pleasure running through his frame were almost as much from bringing his lover pleasure as from what was originating in him.

He rode out his lover's overload, sharing it with Prowl until he could feel the Praxian starting to relax. Only then did he pull back, spike slipping free as he gave his intended a little room to crumple forward. Prowl's armor pinging as it cooled, the gaps and vents pumping out thick steaming and trying to suck in cool evening air.

Jazz settled near him, still gently stroking whichever part of his intended was in reach, happy to just be touching the other mech as his own systems settled and cooled.

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It had been a long orn, the creature they were after proving elusive even to Jazz's tracking skills and Prowl's power of predicting, until they had finally cornered it late in the evening. It had been a close thing, cornering the enraged razor boar that late in the orn, but as he looked at the impressive creature, stunned into oblivion, Jazz couldn't help but feel a surge of pride.

He and Prowl had taken it down. Together. Working as a team, and an effective one.

"Are you injured?" Prowl's first words spoke of his priorities.

"No." Jazz replied, giving himself a quick check to make sure. Dirty, scuffed, and dented, but he had walked away from training sessions with Master Ziariace worse off than he was now. "You?"

He turned to study his intended, sharp gaze sweeping over the others frame for any sign of injury. Dirty, scuffed, dented ... and with a long but shallow gash down his left leg. It has already stopped bleeding, but there was no doubt that some of the liquid splattered around them was Prowl's energon.

"Nothing serious," Prowl canted his wings in reassurance having noted where Jazz was looking. "I have taken far worse damage in training. We fight well together."

Jazz hummed softly in agreement, of the personal opinion that they worked rather well together. He glanced at the boar, trying to pinpoint the time in the hunt where it might have gotten close enough to manage to strike Prowl. While he couldn't pick out the moment, going back he realized it was before they finally cornered it ... in the first confrontation more than three joors earlier.

"You are thinking too hard," Prowl murmured, brushing a gentle hand over a sensor horn. "It was a good hunt, we worked well together and we did not have to kill it."

And that in itself was an impressive feat, given the nature of their quarry. It was not often that a full razor boar could be taken down successfully with stun guns. Most of the time when the creatures were hunted it was with high powered short range rifles, and certainly not by a single pair of mecha.

Still, Jazz wasn't going to argue with his intended as he relaxed into the touch on his sensor horn, guaranteed to calm him every time.

With a soft smile Prowl used his free arm to draw Jazz closer and study their prize. "What do you wish to do with it, now that we have it still functional?"

Jazz leaned into his intended, studying the large boar. "We always let everything go at the end of the day, the few times that I hunted for sport. When we were hunting to kill it was often displayed wherever it had been causing trouble."

"What do you wish to do with it?" Jazz asked softly, nuzzling at Prowl.

"There is a collection in Praxus, open to the public, where all sorts of mecha-animals are kept alive, safe and well-fed," Prowl began, keeping a careful watch on Jazz's reaction. "It would assist your reputation to donate the boar to the collection."

The mech against his side remained at ease. "As long as it is well contained as well I have no objections, if they don't already have one."

Prowl hummed and pinged the curator's comm. After a short exchange he closed the line and chuckled. "They'd be delighted to have it, and it will be well-contained. We haven't had a large mecha-animal escape yet."

"Are they going to transport it, or do we have to figure out a way to get it to them?" Jazz asked, trying to estimate how long the creature might be unresponsive.

"We will to the lodge, where they will pick it up," Prowl nuzzled him before letting go and opening a small panel on the boar's throat, right where it met the lower jaw. "Their mecha-animal medic told me how to put it into medical stasis. It should remain safe to handle until it reaches the zoo."

"Should get moving then." Jazz commented absently, checking the time and their remaining light. The chase today had led them even farther from the lodge, and the terrain they had covered had been difficult to traverse in some spots. "I would assume there is a more direct route back to the lodge than the path we followed this orn?"

Even as he said it Jazz knew it would be nearly impossible for just the two of them to move such a large mecha-animal such a distance.

"There is, though it will be far simpler to call one of the fliers in from Praxus to move it," Prowl stood and pulled Jazz close for a kiss, running his hands down Jazz's sides. "Let's get it close to one of these crystals and settle for the night. It can be picked up in the morning."

Jazz purred, returning the kiss before pulling back. "If you want help moving that you might want to stop."

The brush of his field against Prowl's, as playful as the smile on his face, suggested that he had no objection to Prowl starting up again once they were settled.

A deep rumble promised that starting up again was the least that was going to happen as Prowl set his larger frame to work helping move the large beast, a mass greater than both of theirs combined, to a relatively safe place for the night. As soon as it was settled Jazz found himself pressed up against the trunk with Prowl's mouth against his and the Praxian's field almost scalding hot.

When the kiss finally broke the Jazz's entire frame was shaking from the intensity, his cooling system already trying to keep up with the heat flaring between them. With a growl of desire Prowl kissed, nipped and licked his way along Jazz's jaw, down his throat and along the seam of his chest.

Jazz was keening softly, shivering at each touch. "Prowl..." he gasped as his intended worked lower until the Praxian was kneeling in front of him, lips and glossa creeping along the joint of one leg.

Jazz moaned, visor flickering until he focused enough to reach out and stroke along the wings that were now in his reach, touch light and teasing through the haze of pleasure. His hands froze as a powerful jolt of pleasure crashed through his systems when Prowl's lips and glossa found his valve cover, kissing and lapping at the sensitive surface. There was only a moment of hesitation as Jazz navigated the pleasure before the cover slid away, baring the sensitive components still protected by their seal.

Between his spread legs Prowl trembled, breathing in the unique and too-temporary scent of a heated valve seal with lubricant building up behind it. With a gentle kiss, Prowl slipped his glossa out to caress the membrane, then out around the rim where the sensor-heavy platelets were still covered by the flexible seal.

Jazz moaned and keened as untouched sensors fired for the first time, squirming at the pressure starting to build in his lower frame.

"Don't fight it," Prowl hummed against the membrane, his strong hands supporting Jazz's lower frame at the hips.

"Don't fight-." The rest of Jazz's words were lost in a surprised keen of bliss.

Prowl smiled and hummed again. He couldn't prevent his spike from sliding free and pressurizing, but he could keep himself from sinking into his mate for the moment. The mech in his hold was squirming and keening softly, his field alive with the pleasure coursing through his frame, all from what Prowl was doing.

It was all Prowl hoped it to be and more. Jazz was so responsive, it would be good, and easy, to teach him to enjoy being penetrated greatly.

Hands descended on the Praxian's sensor wings again as Jazz started to tease and stroke the edges. Prowl hummed deeply in pleasure, his glossa working the rim and sealed-in platelets relentlessly. The charge was building in the mech under his touch, burning hotter through every point of connection and flaring in meshed fields until Jazz's frame stiffened in his hands and the smaller mech howled in overload.

With the speed of significant practice Prowl stood, driving his spike fully into his intended just as Jazz's charge reached its peak. The seal tore and shredded at his assault, giving Prowl that nanoklik of pressure against his spike tip that was like nothing else in his experience. He pinned Jazz to the crystalline trunk with his frame, holding still with his hands supporting Jazz's hips and his spike twitching and pulsing with the intense pleasure of being surrounded by an overloading valve.

Surprise flickered in Jazz's field as the pleasure began to ebb, twinges of pain from the broken seal and the discomfort as his valve was stretched and filled for the first time, muted by aftershocks from his overload still rippling through his frame. Hungry lips closed on his as Prowl's hips began to move in a slow, controlled glide, drawing his spike across previously untouched nodes along Jazz's entire valve and out between the soft platelets that were just as sensor rich.

Small moans escaped Jazz as the discomfort faded away and his valve began to respond, rippling and tightening with limited coordination in response to the stimulation and the smaller mech grabbed on to Prowl frame.

"So tight," Prowl moaned, trembling as he slid back in. "Primus, you feel good."

There were no coherent words, only the flare of Jazz's field as his valve was stimulated once more and the added pleasure of Prowl's approval. Any ache or pain was lost to the swell of pleasure in Prowl's slow, purposeful slide and the intense pleasure he was giving his intended.

The smaller mech was soon lost in the sensations coursing through his frame, moaning and keening as he experienced this new kind of pleasure. Systems heated faster than they could cool, caressing Prowl as his lover's field warned the Praxian of how close his mate was to loosing control of his frame for the second time that night.

"Yessss," Prowl hissed before surrendering to the intense charge centered on his spike. With a roar his hips jerked upward, flooding the virgin valve with hot transfluid rich with the electrical charge of Prowl's overload.

Balanced as precariously on the edge as he was, the combined pleasure that struck him shoved Jazz the rest of the way. The high keen of pleasured bliss gave way to silences as the smaller mech's processor whited out from the intensity. Energy crackled over the bucking frame before releasing it to fall limp against Prowl.

"So perfect," Prowl murmured, supporting the limp form of his intended. Slowly, he withdrew his spike and eased to the ground to hold Jazz in his lap and close against his chassis. Jazz came around slowly, taking his time to feel everything as he snuggled against Prowl. His systems purred softly at the compliment, field revealing just how much it meant to him.

"Feel ready to move, or should I set up the hammock while you finish recovering?" Prowl asked softly, his field warm and protective around the other black and white.

Jazz grumbled softly, not wanting to move but understanding the need to be up where it was safe.

"Hammock." He said, forcing his frame to move and attempting to cover the lingering discomfort. "I'll be up in a klik."

Because once they got the hammock up and settled the close quarters would have him right back in his intended's arms and surrounded by that wonderful, warm field.

"The discomfort will pass soon," Prowl promised with a kiss as he helped Jazz move, then settle next to their prize. "You weren't damaged."

"I know. I was warned." Jazz assured him, stealing a quick kiss before Prowl moved away.

The medic who had performed the inspection so that the matchmaker could honestly present his profile listing him as untouched had been very blunt about what Jazz might expect when his seals were taken.

So far neither of the warnings had proven entirely true.

It spoke volumes for Prowl's skill and desires.

He watched as his intended gracefully and quickly scaled the large trunk to the first set of branches thick enough to easily support them and high enough to be safe in the odd chance something big came looking for a meal ... or their catch worked out of stasis. Despite the low energy level Prowl must have, he moved with quick efficiency to set of their simple camp.

Jazz allowed his systems to finished reorienting and rallying his strength, taking advantage of the time to admire his intended's skill and grace.

Prowl had most of the work done before Jazz began his ascent. He was finished and settled in the hammock, his arms open and golden optics watching Jazz by the time the younger mech joined him.

Jazz slipped into the hammock, quickly finding himself snug against Prowl's frame with a tired but sincere sigh of contentment as he nuzzled at Prowl. A gentle, chaste kiss and few strokes along their frames was all it took for the couple to settle in for recharge, content with the orn.

S S S S S S S S S===================S S S S S S S S S

Jazz settled quietly at the table, field brushing against Prowl's in greeting. The companionable silence continued as Jazz served himself breakfast from the selection laid out on the table. Then his attention settled on his intended, studying the other mech for a klik before asking, "Did you have plans for the orn?"

"Nothing specific," Prowl admitted with a small smile between sips of a high quality but simple mid-grade more suited to his orns on campaign than somewhere he could have anything he wished. "We have enough time for another hunt for easier game, or we can enjoy the relative quiet of the lodge."

Jazz toyed with an energon solid for a moment before answering. "I was wondering if you might to go for a walk. With me."

"Of course," Prowl's smile was honest, as was the brush of his field. "I would enjoy that."

The faint tension left Jazz as his request was met with agreement and approval. "After breakfast?"

An elegant nod was Prowl's answer. "Was there a place you wished to go?"

"Not particularly. Just off the lodge grounds." Jazz admitted.

"Easily done," Prowl agreed smoothly. "There are some lovely places to visit within a few joors easy walk."

Jazz hummed, field eager where it touched Prowl's as he finished off the rest of his morning meal. It went quickly, both of them looking forward to the walk. By the time they left the front door, Jazz was tucked against Prowl's side, a long sensor wing gliding lightly against his back.

It was an easy walk, neither in any real hurry as they passed through the tended gardens that surrounded the lodge, and the border area where wild and garden met and mixed, and finally into the wild shaped by the rhythm of life and the hand of no mech.

It was here that Jazz truly relaxed. He was still on alert, in tune with everything around him from the sounds of the wild to the shifting breeze to the field of the mech next to him. What was missing was the underlying tension that was almost a permanent part of the younger mech, the fear and resentment of being constantly judged and criticized melting away.

"Were you typically that stressed before you came to Praxus?" Prowl asked.

"What?" Jazz asked, attention focusing on his intended as he was distracted from his own thoughts.

"You are relaxed now on a level that not even a good overload brings you," Prowl explained. "I wondered what the cause is."

Jazz had to think about it for a long time before he settled on an answer. "This is...safe."

His optics scanned the surrounding wildland. "At home, the wildlands were one of the few places I could go and escape. In the House... my every move was known and reported. If I ventured to any of the local towns, she knew everything that I did and everyone I spoke too. And there was always something I did that I shouldn't have. Something for her to punish me for."

A small smile played over Jazz's lips. "When it got to be too much, the wildlands were my retreat. Steelplate was the only one who could find me out there, and even if I got in trouble when I got home, it was peace for a little while."

"Perhaps you will come to accept that our quarters, after we bond, will be just as safe," Prowl suggested with a bit of hope.

"That would be...welcome." Jazz admitted, though he was unsure of the probability.

"What would help it happen?" Prowl solicited politely. He knew there were many factors he could not control, yet there were also many things he could.

"I don't know." Jazz shrugged. "I don't even know where we will be living in the compound after the ceremony."

"While my creator functions, we will live in my suite, the Heir's Chambers. Then we will move into the Lord's Chambers," he explained. "Both are in the main house in the center of the compound. I can show you around my suite when we return," he paused as he remembered that Jazz may not have a clue what the designations of the two suites meant in practical terms. "There is a large master berthroom, secondary berthrooms for additional mates or older creations, a rather lavish washrack, a nursery, an entry room, public entertainment room, a study and quarters for my personal servants. It is very well shielded from eavesdropping and prying optics."

It took Jazz several kliks to even try and envision having quarters that size, even if they were to be shared among several mecha. On the other hand, if they were as well guarded from uninvited nosey intruders as Prowl claimed, they might well prove to be a place where he could find some ease.

"I would like to see them, when you have the time." If Prowl felt safe in them...Jazz would hopefully learn to do the same.

"Of course," Prowl inclined his helm as his field brushed against Jazz's with affection and support. "They will be your quarters soon."

Jazz's field leaned into the contact, full of thanks and only a little hesitation at the upcoming bonding as he settled once more into the warmth of the walk and his intended.

Prowl reached out to entwine their fingers. "What about the future still unsettles you?"

"The unknown." Jazz admitted. The unknown and his own fear of failure, that he would not be what he needed to be. What Prowl needed him to be. "Failure."

"Any plan that includes success must also a possibility for failure," Prowl reflexively dropped into tactical mode. "The potential for failure or loss can not be permitted to rule decisions or it will paralyze you. Accepting its existence is the only way to succeed."

Jazz vented softly, slightly irritated with the reply but more amused. That was not exactly the answer he had been expecting, but he also was not surprised. "I know."

"I do not believe you know the odds, however," Prowl regarded him, a flicker of amusement in his field.

"I would guess that you do. So the real question would be are you planning to share them with me?" Jazz asked, half in jest but half serious as well.

"If you wish to know," Prowl teased back.

Jazz growled, reaching around to tweak the edge of one wing lightly, very much wishing to know the knowledge that Prowl was dangling in front of him. His intended chuckled and tugged his wing free.

"Very well. Based on your medical files and mine, the probability that we will not kindle within the first vorn are less than 3%. The probability that you will not complete your combat training before my next major campaign is less than 0.002%."

Jazz actually froze for a moment, startled. He knew that the odds had to have been good, for Prowl to have been teasing him like that, but those numbers were better than he could have ever imagined.

The sudden lack of motion made Prowl turn to look at him with a questioning flicker in his field.

"Honest?" Jazz whispered, still a bit shocked.

"Those are my best calculations based on all available data," Prowl inclined his helm. "I did make one assumption that you would be fully invested in the attempts to kindle," he admitted. "If you are not, the possibility of success drops to 15.331%. I have been trained in how to force an unwilling mate to give enough energy for me to carry, and how to force them to carry. However, such efforts are unlikely at best to succeed quickly."

The mere suggestion had Jazz shuddering, fingers tightening reflexively where they were still twined with Prowl's. He vented softly, knowing that even though the idea of a being a creator was not something he was overjoyed about, he would not do anything that would jeopardize Prowl's inheritance.

"You will not have to do that." He promised quietly.

"Good," Prowl murmured, drawing him close and resting his forehelm against Jazz's. His arms, wings and field wrapped around Jazz to comfort and reassure. "I never wish to use that knowledge. After I have the heir I require to inherit, you do not have to carry again. There are other options for the other creations I need and wish to have."

"We'll see." Jazz murmured, accepting the comfort and melting into it, not making a commitment either way just yet. Prowl was already giving so much that he didn't have to.

"Yes, we will," Prowl agreed, gently stroking Jazz's back. "The future holds many decisions that can wait."

That earned him a soft chuckled of amusement, Jazz nuzzling against him as the mood lifted once more, this time with a mischievous edge to it.

"And what are you thinking now?" Prowl raised an optic ridge at him.

"Show you something?" Jazz asked, visor flashing playfully.

"If you wish," Prowl was curious now, even as he tipped Jazz's chin up to kiss him soundly.

Jazz moaned softly into the kiss, not in any hurry to break the contact even if he did want see what his intended would make of what Jazz was going to show him. Strong white hands caressed his back and sides as arousal began to build in Prowl's field and heat his frame.

"Hmmm..." Jazz hummed as he pulled back from the kiss and slipped from the arms holding him, field rippling playfully against his intended. "I have a proposal for you- catch me and I am yours."

"You have less than a 0.0121% probability of escaping for more than a breem," Prowl retorted with, his face stern but his field playful and willing.

"So you think." Jazz replied with a smirk, darting in to kiss his intended lightly on the lips and brushing a hand over a sensor wing as he danced away. "Come get me then."

With that final challenge Jazz took two steps into the surrounding growth and disappeared from sight.

A low chuckle escaped Prowl as his systems revved sharply. With a deep intake of air and flare of his sensor wings to pick up even the most minute data he was off, leaping immediately onto the nearest crystal to give himself the high ground.

There was a flicker, a brush of his intended's field against his own, and then it was gone again. Teasing and leading him on.

Prowl grinned and gave himself over to the game. The thrill and arousal of the hunt or fight with none of the risk. His intended was very, very good. Sometimes there would be the sense of Jazz's field against his own, sometimes a deliberately left sign of his passing, but through it all Jazz managed to stay one step ahead of the Praxian, and even when Prowl knew he was close he still couldn't manage to catch sight of the elusive mech.

The difficulty only fueled Prowl's desires, his thrill and intent burned bright in his field whenever Jazz came close.

The game continued. Both mechs were quick studies, picking up little things about the other and using it to track or evade until Prowl picked up on a small pattern.

If Jazz followed true to form...

The Praxian circled, using a large crystal trunk as shielding, and finally caught a glimpse of the other mech. Jazz was almost in arms reach, still practically invisible as he waited, unmoving in the underbrush.

With his own systems in stealth mode Prowl carefully moved forward, his sensor wings tucked in tightly so they wouldn't catch in Jazz's peripheral vision.

One more step, carefully made, and he lunged forward to catch Jazz by the shoulders and pushed him flat to the ground, pinned by Prowl's greater mass.

There was a moment of reactive panic, Jazz struggling under the weight pinning him down, before it registered who was holding him down.

The struggles died away into good humor as Jazz conceded the victory with a laugh, turning his helm for a kiss and burying his own flicker of disappointment at having been caught.

"Now, to the victor goes the spoils," Prowl purred deeply, the thrum of his powerful engine rolling through them both and his field giving no doubt what he meant. His grip shifted, granting Jazz more freedom of movement without surrendering control or dominance. "Mine," he growled with a heated kiss, his spike already sliding out and pressurizing.

"Yours." Jazz agreed, valve bared and ready, knowing what was coming and wanting it, desire and surrender thick in his field as his hands reached up tease along Prowl's sides. The reaction was enough to make Prowl shiver with another spike of arousal, the kind reserved for a truly eager lover.

He kissed Jazz again and rubbed his spike along the layers of platelets around Jazz's valve, sending the first jolts of pleasure into the smaller mech.

Jazz whimpered softly at the contact, nuzzling Prowl for another kiss as his knees drew up and his hips shifted, seeking more. It was granted without hesitation. Prowl shifted his hips and lined his spike up without any need of a guiding hand and slowly rolled his hips forward. The motion drew a long moan from Jazz, his entire frame quivering slightly at the sensations of being stretched and filled, each sensor node coming online and sending a jolt of pleasure through his systems. There was nothing but pleasure in this, in the stretch and sensation of being filled.

Prowl's mouth found Jazz's and devoured him as their interface arrays came flush and Prowl ground them lightly together.

Skillful hands traveled from Prowl's side to his hips as Jazz gave to the invading glossa, field flaring to caress with his lover and entwine fully with Prowl's. With that connection fully in place Jazz moaned at the exquisite pleasure flowing from Prowl, all at being inside him. The back of his processor wondered that his intended had waited so long for this. It felt amazing.

Prowl grunted softly as he drew back and drove forward, seating himself fully once more to press against the thick cluster of sensors at the top of Jazz's valve, drawing a muffled keen from the smaller mech. The tight valve rippled around Prowl's spike, squeezing and caressing with the waves of pleasure washing through Jazz. Every time the Praxian took him like this it only seemed to be better than the last.

Without withdrawing, Prowl rolled his hips to rub his spike against every surface of Jazz's valve, moaning at the charge that crackled between them in the highly conductive lubricant.

A quick search and Jazz had his lover's wings in his hands, blindly teasing at them. Soft sounds of bliss spilled from the smaller mech as Prowl drove into him again and again, each stroke and roll of hips driving their charge higher.

"You feel so good," Prowl whispered against Jazz's audio, a sub-harmonic in his voice telling of just how hard he was holding back to draw out their pleasure, knowing that Jazz got off so much harder after a slow buildup.

"You're so good." His intended whispered in return, layered meaning in breathy tone and field. So good at this. So good to Jazz.

It wasn't long before Prowl's helm dropped to rest against Jazz's shoulder, every intake a ragged pant. His locked arms the only thing holding him up as he thrust his hips against his mate's in a steady, driving rhythm.

The flash of his intended's chevron caught Jazz's attention through the haze of pleasure and he turned his helm to drag his glossa along the edge as his fingers found their way into the base of the Praxian's wing joints. He was close, so very close, but he wanted to feel the rush of transfluid in his has valve, wanted a glimpse of his mate's expression in overload, before he lost himself like he always did when Prowl took him like this.

A low whine turned into a keen, only to explode into a roar as Prowl stiffened, driving his hips forward to grind blindly against Jazz's. Each thrusting roll of those hips heralded a rush of hot, charged transfluid splashing against the top sensors nodes in Jazz's valve as well as those lining the tube in Prowl's spike.

"Yes!" Jazz's cry joined his mate's at the surge that slammed through his entire frame, valve clamping down on the spike, pleasure echoing and spiraling to blinding heights through their joined fields and frames. Reflexes drove their frames on past the point where either could think until the pinnacle was a blinding white they both fell from in a glorious dance where only that exquisite moment mattered.

Slowly, reluctantly, Prowl regained his senses. Still buried fully in his mate's valve he felt the last twinges of Jazz's overload dissipating and managed to move his helm enough to kiss the lax lips.

A soft, incoherent moan was his first response, then a lazy brush of Jazz's field pushing against his own, full of affection and thanks. Prowl replied with a smile, weak nuzzle and brush of his own field full of affection and approval.