Ain't Misbehavin'

-/"They say the spring means just one thing to little love birds. We're not above birds; let's misbehave! It's getting late and while I wait, my poor heart aches on. Why keep the brakes on? Let's misbehave! I feel quite sure "un peu d'amour" would be attractive. While we're still active, let's misbehave! You know my heart is true, and you say you for me care. Somebody's sure to tell, but what the hell do we care!" --Elvis Costello, Let's Misbehave/-

--Ain't Misbehavin'--

Sighing quietly, Prowl rubbed his optics. It was one of those days. He just knew it. Today, he had been on a fifteen hour shift, and even for a Transformer, that was quite a pull.

He sighed and leaned back, only to find a pair of hands lightly massaging the joints of his doorwings. Involuntarily, he shuddered and moaned, dropping his head back to match the gaze of Jazz. The grinning black and white couldn't have possibly smiled wider. "Hey there, sexy. You look tired."

"Jazz, we are in the command center," Prowl purred. "Someone could see us."

The Porsche just chuckled, leaning down to nuzzle Prowl's cheek. "And I care why...?"

Prowl couldn't help but give a roll of his optics, hands reaching up to rub Jazz's arms. "Because..."

"Because you're worried about what they'll think? Come on, Prowl, stop bein' so tight." Once again, Jazz smiled, guiding Prowl up from the chair just to pull his back up to his chestplate, planting a kiss to the back of his helm. "Everybody knows Red and Inferno are sharin' space, and the twins have been stickin' pretty close to Blue... it's not like them knowin' I love you is gonna change anything."

Sighing quietly, Prowl rolled his head back, remaining quiet for a moment. Jazz took advantage of the moment in an instant, twisting his body so that he could plant a firm, insistant kiss on his mate's lips, fingers sliding along Prowl's sensitive wings, causing the Datsun to swoon against him. No more had he done this, however, than the door slid open to reveal Sideswipe, stopped mid-stride with a bewildered look on his young face.

For a moment, the three stood in silence. Jazz remained grinning, Prowl had taken to looking decidedly mortified, and Sideswipe was just looking back and forth.

Slowly, a grin formed on the red twin's face, and he chuckled. "Hey, if you two need some alone-time, I can go... I mean, hey. None'a my business, right?"

Jazz just shook his head, stealing another kiss from his bondmate before he released the poor dazed tactician and swept for the door. "Actually, I just came in to distract him so he'd actually leave this room. I'm covering monitor duty for Tracks for a couple of hours until he gets back from Portland. Prowl..." His visor dimmed and the rest of the message came over Prowl's internal comm. //I'll catch y'later, sexy.//

For poor geared up Prowl, later couldn't quite come soon enough.

*****

Of course, at the Ark, promises sometimes got broken in light of circumstances beyond their control. It was just such an occurance that found Prowl laying frustrated in the medbay as Ratchet patched his wounded arm, grousing about how if he had one hour to show the Decepticons exactly what they were doing with his bare hands, he would make certain they would never send another mech wounded into his medbay.

Prowl, however, was not listening to the rant. His mind was on his encounter with Jazz from earlier... and how geared up he still was. He partially suspected that Jazz's hands moving so expertly on his wings, coupled with the press of his lips, had clouded his thought... but in the end, he brushed it off to simple exhaustion.

At last, the medic finally finished his work, and after giving Prowl strict instructions to lay still and rest for a while, moved on to the unconscious "yellow devil" on the table behind him.

Prowl's mind went into overdrive immediately, optics shut off, and he would have slipped fully into recharge had a hand not suddenly trailed over his thigh and hip joint. Jumping awake with a sudden gasp, his gaze shot to the figure next to him. Lo and behold, there sat Jazz, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Prowl's optics narrowed. "You're going to cause Ratchet to rain down all sorts of unholy wrath upon the both of us."

"Well, I can't help it if you're just that irresistable" the saboteur cooed, his tone particularly quiet. "Besides, Ratchet's busy with Sunstreaker. With the big guy out like a light, he'll be working for hours to get him back online." His hand trailed over Prowl's hip and stomach plates, causing the tactician to bite his lip to hold back a lusty moan. "All right?"

Unable to control at least his movements, Prowl squirmed slightly under his mate's hand, optics glowing brightly for a moment before he shuttered them tightly. "Jazz..."

Unfortunately, the moment ended rather abruptly. From just behind them, looming like the angel of death Himself, stood the CMO, and he looked none too pleased with what he was witnessing. "WHAT THE FRAGGING SCRAP DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING IN MY MEDBAY?!"

Shocked into looking back, Prowl could only stare in humiliation at the threatening figure of Ratchet, as Jazz gave one of his most charming grins. "Hey, no worries, Ratchet. I was just comfortin' Prowl... he's sore."

"By groping him?" The medic huffed. "Get out of here until he's well enough to leave!"

Jazz gave a sweet smile. "Not like you haven't screwed around with 'Jack in here..."

"I SAID OUT!"

Bursting out in merry laughter, Jazz high-tailed it, leaving Prowl to sigh and return to his thoughts as Ratchet, growling, went back to work.

*****

Prowl was nearly beside himself when he hit the washrack later, scrubbing his hands wearily over his face. His circuits were practically on fire from the previous encounters, and thinking about it wasn't helping. Sighing, he stood in the pressurized cleansing spray, fully expecting an eventless scrubdown, until he felt a pair of hands pull him into a warm embrace, rocking him in time with a natural rhythm, the music that simply was Jazz.

"You're determined to drive me insane," he moaned, head tilting back as the saboteur lowered his head, softly kissing the open junction where Prowl's neck joint was just barely visible. "Aren't you?"

Jazz only replied with a quiet "mm," hands finding the opening where Prowl's chestplate met his stomach plating, slipping inside to gently tease the sensitive wiring within. Prowl's jaw dropped, cooling system struggling to keep up with the rapid increase of his internal temperature...

Until a voice from behind chimed out in a tone far too playful for the sullen mech it usually came from, "Not that I mind the show, you two, but some of us would like to get through the washrack sometime this vorn. Heavy repairs are murder on the wax job."

"Let them be, Sunstreaker," came the almost snooty drawl of a second voice. "If they want to have their way with one another in the washrack..."

Once again, Prowl was mortified, but he could feel Jazz laughing against his back. Groaning at his mate's lack of any sort of decency, the humiliated tactician risked a glance past Jazz's shoulder strut and wing. Behind them in the washrack stood Sunstreaker and Tracks, the prior wearing one of his most wolfish grins. The latter simply wore a light smirk, arms folded and weight resting entirely on one leg.

Prowl wished he could sink through the floor. From behind, Jazz gave him a light bump with his hips, causing him to stagger forward. He would have grumped a retort at his bondmate, but the saboteur was already calling back, "Sorry boys. We'll hurry it up. Just playin' around a little, is all."

In his defense, Prowl felt he must have broken the speed record for fastest run through the washrack ever before he finally took off for the lounge.

*****

It was panning out to be even more of one of those days than Prowl had thought. His circuitry was so sensitive that at this point, the slightest touch to his plating sent him into shivers. He'd found that out the hard way in the hall, when Perceptor had brushed past him in a hurry to get somewhere, sending the poor tactician into a fit of tremors that wracked his whole body. He'd spent a good few minutes leaning against the wall until the moment passed, with Perceptor staring at him in no small amount of alarm.

Oh, but that hadn't even been the worst of it. He'd nearly collapsed in the hall after that, and very nearly snapped Perceptor's head off when he'd moved to try to help him. He hadn't meant to, but as on edge as he was right then...

So for now, he sat in silence on the large couch in the main lounge, a cup of energon held in a shaking hand, trying unsuccessfully to soothe his frazzled nerves.

His systems had only barely begun to respond to his willing them to calm down when a hand appeared in front of his face, holding a cup. "You look like you could use a drink."

Startled, Prowl jumped, sending energon splashing across his face, chestplate, and hands. He shuddered involuntarily at the sudden sensation, putting on his best glare as the hardly chagrined Jazz slipped over to sit down beside him. "Not funny."

"No?" The Porsche dared a smirk, shifting so that he could lean over to press his lips over Prowl's, taking on the task of 'cleaning him up', gently lapping up the energon in such a fashion that the black and white beneath him couldn't stifle the groan that followed. "I can't guarantee I can amuse ya... but I know I can at least make this fun."

Prowl bit his lip, squirming and shuddering as Jazz's lips continued over his neck and chestplate, gently lifting one white hand as he sat up, changing his focus to his mate's palm and fingers. "Jazz," the Datsun moaned, almost crumpling fully against the arm of the couch. "Don't... nngh... stop..."

Immediately, a grin spread across Jazz's face as he shifted his attention back to Prowl's chestplate and shoulder struts. "Don't stop, huh...?"

"You... know what I mean...!"

Jazz smirked and continued what he was doing, and Prowl was just about at his breaking point when he let his optics flicker to life... and looking to the side, he was in utter shock at what he saw.

There, standing in a small mixed group, stood no less than six minibots... a group consisting of Cliffjumper, Gears, Brawn, Powerglide, Beachcomber, and Warpath.

Very suddenly, Prowl wished he was somewhere else. Like Pluto, for instance.

"Ho-ly," Cliffjumper whistled after shutting his gaping mouth with an audible click. "Get a room, you guys. Geez."

Gears took a moment to recover from his initial shock before he, too, managed to remark, "Honestly. I sit on that couch!"

"Dang! WHAM!" That comment came from Warpath. "Talk about scorin'! BANG!"

Brawn's brow rose as he gazed at the tank mini. "Did you have to put it like that, Warpath...?!"

A shudder wracked through Beachcomber, who was rubbing the back of his head just slightly. "Talk about puttin' out some serious vibes..."

Prowl groaned and shrank down on the couch as Jazz smoothly got to his feet. "Guys, guys, leave Prowl be. He's had a hard day."

Grumbling, the tactician got to his feet, suddenly wishing he could borrow Mirage's ability for a day. "Jazz, please... we have a meeting with Prime. Let's go."

His fellow black and white grinned, casting a cheerful wave at the minis as he all but skipped after his mortified mate.

He didn't know about Prowl, but he was really enjoying this little game...

*****

Prowl, of course, was utterly mortified. Jazz had been unusually... well, frisky all day. At least in Prime's office, in the company of their commanding officer, he was safe from the Porsche's roaming hands.

As it was, the two of them now sat at the meeting room's table, Ironhide to Jazz's left, Prime sitting across from them. It was difficult to pay attention to what Prime was saying, unfortunately... something about heightened security measures putting too much strain on the soldiers usually on guard duty. His discomfort and lack of concentration were about to be worsened, as well, when he felt Jazz's hand slide over his leg beneath the table.

Instantly, Prowl tensed, fighting to restrain a shudder. He could just see that Jazz was fighting to keep from grinning, but across the table, Prime suddenly looked rather concerned. "Are you all right, Prowl?"

The tactician choked on his words for a moment before he breathed out a sigh, murmuring. "I'm fine, Prime. Please... continue."

Jazz smiled beside him, hand moving up to Prowl's hip joints, his movements so discrete that no one could have noticed them except for the target of his teasing. Prowl bit his lip, shifting in his seat, doorwings jerking back into an upraised, tight position. Prime's browridge rose. "You're sure you're all right?"

Though Prowl nodded, the commander still looked rather suspicious. He continued with his lecture as the tactician hissed as his mate over their internal frequency, //Jazz, that is NOT what I meant by "continue." Stop that before you embarass us both.//

//Who said I was embarassed?// Jazz's voice teased in reply. //It's all right, Prowl... just relax.//

Relax. Funny, Prowl just couldn't bring himself to do that. As Jazz's hand repeatedly teased and caressed along his hip joint and pelvic region, he was becoming more and more hard-pressed to keep from moaning outright. He stole a glance at Ironhide, who had one of his knowing smiles all but plastered on his face.

He got the feeling he knew what was going on.

For a few minutes longer, Prowl mgh the more important part of the meeting, Jazz's fingers found a few more sensitive wires, and this time, he couldn't hold back the groan that rose in his throat.

Once again, Prime's attention was on him, and he just knew that if he was human, he would've been as red as the commander's armor. "Prowl, you don't look well. Are you sure...?"

"I'm not feeling well at the moment, Prime," the tactician finally breathed. "If you will permit me permission to take my leave? The meeting is nearly concluded anyway."

Prowl could almost see the frown behind the faceplate as the commander nodded, expression reading of concern. Standing unsteadily and shaking from top to toe, he gave a cordial nod and quickly stalked out of the room, leaving a grinning Jazz behind.

*****

The day could not possibly get any worse. It was that simple.

Or so he had thought.

Prowl leaned in relative silence against the door to his qarters, one hand covering his face. He had been groped and humiliated far too many times for his own good today, he could hardly stand straight, he was shaking all over, his doorwings were drawn back so tightly he feared they might lock that way... and now, he was so shaken in the head that he could not for the life of him recall the code to enter his own quarters.

He frowned slightly... he could feel Jazz approaching... and he tried to resist when his fellow black and white tilted his face up for a gentle kiss, but his resistance was long since shattered.

Jazz's lips moved expertly over his, caressing the more sensitive flexible hybrid metal there with careful and practiced movements. It was a good feeling, and despite how angry he had felt before, he just couldn't bring himself to be mad now.

He brought up his hands, rubbing weakly over Jazz's arms, as his mate toyed with his doorwings, pressing him hard back against the door, exherting all the force Prowl was used to him showing when he wanted this... and right now, he wanted it too. Well, more than wanted. He needed it.

The Datsun was very near his breaking point. He had forgotten how good Jazz was at this, capable of driving him wild with the simplest of touches. He moaned softly against the saboteur's audio, holding his bonded close for another deep kiss. This was what he had wanted. None of the teasing, just this. Jazz, all his, right now, slow and deep.

Unfortunately for Prowl, things just weren't going his way.

Just as Jazz moved to initiate the link-up, the door behind them slid open, and the pair of startled lovers tumbled backwards, landing on top of an equally startled third party. Jazz, far less bleary-minded than Prowl, lifted his head, and then about burst out laughing.

Red Alert, optics wide and jaw hanging slack, was laying at the bottom of the pile. He stared at Jazz, who just stared back for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Oh, man... sorry, Red! Wasn't even paying attention... one room over, man..." He snickered. "You okay?"

The poor red and white Lamborghini just stared for a moment longer, even after Jazz had picked himself up and pulled Prowl to his feet as well. After a few moments of working out what exactly had happened, he managed to sputter, "Must you two do that in the hall?!"

Prowl ducked his head, flustered and embarassed, as Jazz just gave a cool grin. "It's late... we didn't expect anyone to be out and about."

The security officer just huffed softly, shifting uneasily to his feet, before clearing his throat loudly. "Yes, well... I have to be on duty... Jazz, you should rest."

Jazz blinked... wait, why not...?

The startled Porsche turned to where Prowl had been standing. He only caught a flash of the Datsun's doorwings before the tactician slipped into the next room over, door sliding shut with a deliberately forceful clank behind him.

*****

It took Jazz several minutes to work through the extended code Prowl had set on the lock to their quarters... he only did that when he was particularly annoyed, and Jazz was worried he may have pressed a little too far.

The room was dark when he finally slipped in, the only light the glow of a large digital clock on the wall.

"Prowl?" he called softly, stepping deeper into the dark of the room. "You okay? I'm sorry about earlier, I just..."

His words were stopped dead as he was suddenly grabbed from behind, familiar white hands drifting down his chestplate and middle, back up to caress the joints of his doorwings and up to the sensitive little horns that crested his helm. Jazz's knees buckled as he groaned, all but falling back against the mech that had ambushed him.

Prowl leaned forward, pressing his lips tightly over Jazz's before he pulled back, voice lowered as he murmured, "Consider this payback, Jazz. It's my turn." He pulled on Jazz until the Porsche was facing him, backing him up until he tumbled backwards onto the recharge berth, doors flung out to the sides to avoid crushing them in the fall. Kneeling over his prone mate, straddled over his legs, he narrowed his optics. "We are going to finish this... right now... my way."

Jazz didn't even have time to retort as Prowl captured his lips again, pulling his arms up over his head to pin them there with one hand. Somewhere in the back of his hazy mind, the saboteur noted that his mate had gotten very good at this... he definitely was a fast learner.

His fellow black and white wasted no time in getting straight to the point, lips moving over the more sensitive spots on Jazz's chestplate, neck, shoulder joints, and wings. Jazz wiggled beneath him, trying to get free enough to return the favor, but Prowl would have none of it, grip tightening to keep his bonded's arms firmly above his head.

At last he had to let go, focusing his attention on Jazz's midsection, and a particularly sensitive spot that he had found totally by accident one night. Immediately, as soon as his fingers brushed those few delicate wires just tucked away beneath Jazz's hip plate, the Porsche gasped and tensed, back arching as he gripped Prowl's shoulder struts tightly, breathing his companion's name in a choked whisper.

Growling softly, Jazz employed full use of his strength, flipping so that he was now kneeling over Prowl, watching the startled expression on his face as he cast down a wolfish grin. Their systems were in overdrive, intakes rushing to get air through their systems quick and cool enough, and every touch was like hot needles now... but it all felt so good... Prowl almost wished it would never stop.

Jazz was certainly showing his dominance now, leaning down to capture Prowl in a fierce kiss, fumbling hands searching for the port he knew was there, just beneath the hood on Prowl's chestplate. Locating the wire he wanted, he rubbed his fingers over it repeatedly until Prowl all but whimpered, one leg hooked over Jazz's. His logic computer had shut down. Now, they were both running on pure instinct, and every moment was one wasted.

Prowl made the next move, trembling hands searching until he found a similar port on Jazz's chest, but he didn't make a show of teasing him with it. He was too frazzled, too ready. He wanted Jazz now, and by Primus, he was going to have him.

As soon as the connection was made, a jolt like electric fire rushed through both of their systems, causing Jazz to collapse on top of Prowl almost in a heap, pressing his lips anywhere he could reach, as a humming noise began to rise from their bodies. Prowl made a sound like a soft whine, one hand gripping one of Jazz's wings as the other tightly held to the back of his neck. The soft humming noise rose in the air and Jazz groaned, barely audible over Prowl's heavy murmur of his name, mixed in jumbled syllables with some random oath to Primus.

The humming rose to a steady drone, and when it finally broke off with a sharp snap, their voices rose together in a wordless cry, clinging to one another tightly as they both faded into recharge.

*****

When Prowl finally returned to full awareness, Jazz was already awake, his hand drifting gently over his mate's cheek. "Feeling better?"

"After everything you put me through? Hardly. Why did you do that?"

The Porsche smild sheepishly, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Prowl's nose. "Because I wanted you to do what you did. You'd been so closed lately... so cold." He rested his forehead against the tactician's. "I wanted to feel you again."

Prowl stared for a moment at Jazz before he nodded slowly, gently kissing the saboteur. "...I truly am sorry, Jazz... I guess I didn't... I..."

"You were busy, Prowl," Jazz interrupted with a soft smile. "Don't worry about it. You couldn't help it, so don't worry about it."

Though not entirely convinced, Prowl nodded, resting his head against Jazz's chestplate, listening to the quiet thrumming of his fuel-pump just inside. "......but did you really have to misbehave so much...?"

Jazz's optics grew wide behind his visor, his grin only widening. "Misbehave?" He chuckled. "Nah... I wasn't misbehaving... I was just showing you how much I love you."

--End--