Chapter Text
Tap. Tap.
Prowl didn’t bother onlining his optics.
“Jazz. Go home.”
A muffled “come on!” came from outside his window.
Prowl rolled over and buried his helm under a pillow.
“Prooowwwl,” the other sparkling wailed. “Let me in!”
“No.”
“But it’s cold!”
“Go home and bother Ricochet.”
“PROOOWWWWLLL –“
He wasn’t going to stop. Prowl shoved himself up and crawled to the bottom of his berth were it butted up under the window.
Outside, hovering, faceplates pressed against the glass, was an accident prone energon-seeker with less common sense than a glitch mouse.
Prowl knelt up and unlatched the window. Jazz tumbled onto his berth, bouncing slightly before unrolling like a carpet and flopping down, helm resting against Prowl’s thigh.
“Hi!” he said, smiling up at Prowl. “Thanks for letting me in!” He snuggled against his leg.
Prowl gave him a shove and crawled back to the helm of the berth.
“You know I have school tomorrow, right?”
He got back under the covers and pushed his pillow into the right shape before laying his helm down.
“Yeah sure!” Jazz rolled over and hopped on his knees up to sit next to Prowl. He looked from the covers to Prowl and back again, making a mournful noise.
“Fine.” Prowl wiggled and lifted the blankets for Jazz. He immediately scooted inside and plastered himself against Prowl.
The routine was very familiar by now.
They laid there in silence. Prowl tried to fall back asleep.
“Don’t you have something to do?” Prowl asked finally. “Like – I don’t know – energon-seeking?”
“Carrier says ‘m a ‘hindrance’ –“ he carefully sounded out the word, “and that Ah need ta learn how ta be charming ‘stead of just cute.” Jazz shrugged. “Ah thought Ah was doing okay. The femme sold us the spare energon.”
“And that’s good enough for energon-seekers?” Prowl asked. Jazz, unsurprisingly, was incredibly chatty and would never be trusted with any secrets.
“For a while.” He shrugged. “It’s better than just straight energon outta the ground. Won’t replace the real deal.”
The real deal. Energon taken out of a living bot.
He didn’t know a lot about the reality of energon-seekers. Nothing much beyond what the movies and the books said – and he knew those were probably wrong. He could have asked – Uncle Magnus or Jazz’s Carrier would have been happy to tell him. Scrap, he could have even asked Jazz. But he hadn’t.
Prowl hadn’t asked – not out of politeness because Jazz wouldn’t notice manners if they smacked him in the face – because it still frightened him a little. The idea of someone draining away his life’s energon, even if it was just a small amount.
When he was sitting up at night, picking away at his pile of homework or cleaning, he couldn’t quite shake the image of the monsters from the movies. Sometime they gaunt, dark-opticked energon-seeker from the movie would merge with Jazz in his processor and –
It faded whenever Jazz found his way back into Prowl’s room – and into his lap – but it always made Prowl feel slightly ashamed. He knew Jazz wasn’t like that. He liked Jazz’s Carrier and they weren’t like that either.
All of the mixed up feelings – shame, embarrassment, and that edge of fear had kept him from actually asking how energon-seekers and energon worked.
Well, he hadn’t ended up in Emergency Services four times because he was a coward! Prowl vented slowly and turned towards Jazz, who was now nibbling on his blanket because Jazz was a turbopuppy that couldn’t be left alone.
“Stop that! You’ll put a hole in it!”
“Mmon’t!” Jazz mumbled as Prowl tugged it out of his mouth. “Hey!”
“Do you have to bite everything?” Prowl asked, exasperated. “Am I going to find you nibbling my digits in the middle of the night?”
“No!” He sounded indignant. “Ah told you! Carrier says ya gotta ask first! An’ ya said no.”
Prowl blinked.
“What – you mean that first night we met?”
Jazz nodded. “No means no. It means no wheedlin’, no threatenin’, and no forgettin’ when ya want ta. Ya gotta respect the rights of other sentient being.”
“So you’ll never ask me again?” It should have been reassuring, but for some reason it…wasn’t.
“Not if ya don’t want me ta.” Jazz was smiling proudly.
Jazz was…cute. Prowl would be lying if he said otherwise. He was smaller and younger and he did silly things that should have made Prowl mad, but instead just made him laugh.
It would be stupid to be scared of Jazz.
“What if I did want you to?”
Jazz tilted his helm. “To do what?”
“If I wanted to…” Prowl tried to explain with gestures, but Jazz just stared at his servos.
That wasn’t working. He tried again.
“What if I wanted you to ask again and if I said yes. About you biting me,” he clarified. Wow, not something he’d ever expect to say.
Jazz sat up and Prowl followed.
“Would you?” There was a seriousness his Jazz’s optics that Prowl didn’t remember ever seeing before. Even when he’d been lost and alone.
“I…might. What would that mean?”
“Well,” Jazz said slowly, digging his claws into the blanket scrunched down around his hips. “If ya say yes ta one, it can just be the one time. Some bots that don’t mind it, they get paid and set up a schedule. Some just do it the once.” He shrugged. “It’s whatever you want it ta mean. Ya say yes and Ah bite ya or ya say no and Ah don’t.”
“And you biting me would be like…?” Prowl found himself morbidly curious what getting bitten by an energon-seeker was like. The movies had made it seem violent and terrifying. Also fatal. Which couldn’t be right.
“Don’t know!” Jazz said brightly. “Never been bitten! Except by Rico when he’s mad. It don’t hurt, Ah know that. I think ya supposed ta fuel more the day before or the day after, but Ah’m not sure. Otherwise…that’s it!” He smiled again.
Prowl vented and thought. It didn’t sound bad…and Jazz needed it to live…
“If you…if you want to ask again?” he said hesitantly.
“Ask again?”
“If you want to ask to bite me again one day…I’ll say yes.”
Jazz’s optics widened to the size of Prowl’s fists and his mouth dropped open.
“So if Ah ask ta bite ya, you’ll say yes?”
“Yes.”
His face broke into a smile, brighter than daylight.
“Ah can?! Okay!”
“Yes, maybe tomorrow we can talk about a time– “
At that point, Jazz lunged over him and bit his forearm. Hard.
“JAZZ!”
Prowl was rolling out of the berth before he even realized he was moving. He stared.
Jazz was hanging off his arm, floating mid-air, optics squinted shut, smiling broadly around Prowl’s wrist.
Prowl shook him. Jazz rumbled in contentment.
Well scrap.
“Jazz,” he said, “I didn’t mean right now.” Nothing.
Scrap. Scrap. Scrap.
Prowl brought the arm – and Jazz – closer to his optics and stared.
Each of Jazz’s four sharp teeth were embedded in his plating and, likely, in the energon tubing below. If he concentrated, Prowl could feel the smallest of power draws near each tooth as his frame tried to send more energon to the site of the leak to keep his plating from graying.
If he looked even closer – Strongarm had spent two days arguing with Uncle Magnus to get him the magnification mod – he could see energon moving through the hollow center of each fang. His energon.
It didn’t hurt – ached a bit and he was sure it was going to be sore and sensitive – but overall Prowl would rate getting bitten by an energon-seeker as one of the better experiences on his list.
“Jazz.”
“Mmmhmm,” Jazz mumbled, flexing his fangs so that they sunk just a little deeper.
“Jazz, when are you going to be done?” He wanted to get some recharge before tomorrow’s exam.
“Mmmmmm.”
Well that was no help. Prowl should have expected it.
“Okay, well, let’s get back in the berth.” Better to be comfortable, Kup always said, just as he commandeered the only stool in the room and parked himself down.
Between poking and nudging, Prowl got Jazz back on the berth and then under the covers.
“Shove over.” Jazz scooted back, dragging Prowl forwards by the arm and pulling the cover’s over his helm.
“Jaaaazzzz…” Prowl climbed back in and pushed on Jazz until he got him up against the wall on the very narrow berth. Jazz whined and Prowl tucked a pillow behind him.
Prowl arranged them so that Jazz was on his back, his helm resting on Prowl’s shoulder. Prowl’s trapped arm was wrapped up and around which Jazz apparently approved of, because he immediately tucked one servo up into Prowl’s elbow and snuggled in.
Good for him.
“If I do badly on my exam because I didn’t get any recharge, Jazz…” Prowl warned, settling in for a long night.
Then he promptly fell into recharge.
0-0-0
Jazz woke in the night. Where was he?
Oh, right, Prowl.
Prowl!
Prowl had let Jazz bite him! Now they were best friends!
Jazz chirped and rolled over so he could wrapped his arms around Prowl more easily. The other sparkling was out like a light, optics dark, venting coming slow and even.
Jazz loved Prowl.
Prowl was smart and brave and the best bot in the whole world. He’d found Jazz when Jazz was lost and then he’d found Jazz’s family – well, called his uncle and his uncle found them, but all the same – and then he’d kept letting Jazz in, even after they were both home and safe.
Even in their strange community, energon-seekers were seen as a bit odd, Jazz knew this. Other sparklings had told him so. Carrier had tried to explain it once, but after they’d started talking about a war that had happened 12 millennia ago that involved Unicron, Primus, and the planet splitting, Jazz had just sat there in confusion. What did that have to do with the other sparklings not wanting to be his friend?
Carrier hadn’t tried again.
Prowl wasn’t scared though. Prowl didn’t even really get mad at him! Not like everyone else did. Prowl just got huffy and grumpy, but he never really said no to Jazz. He just shoved and squished and got Jazz into a better position and went about his day.
He did say no about some things. Jazz was not allowed to asked about his creators, follow him to school, or pick Prowl up and fly him without asking first – and Prowl had to be awake to ask him, dream-speak didn’t count.
Prowl was the first bot ever that Jazz had done dream-speak with.
He hadn’t done it on purpose. Carrier had never bothered to teach him or Rico about it because no one used it anymore. You had to ask now because of – something something rights of all sentient beings – something something else citizenship. It meant that energon-seekers and bots didn’t used to see each other as the same and did bad things that Carrier wouldn’t talk about.
So, when he’d snuck into berth with Prowl and started talking to him – because he had a lot to say and it didn’t really matter if Prowl was awake or not to hear it – suddenly Prowl had started answering him! That had been cool!
Seeing Prowl’s dreams had been even cooler and also, at first, terrifying. It was like he was watching it inside his own helm – dreaming awake. He could feel Prowl’s mind – quicksilver and strong – shaping the inner reality. When he’d realized Jazz was there, he’d quickly shaped it around Jazz to pull him into the dream as well.
Prowl had tried to describe what it was like to see Jazz in his dream. He’d said it was like being asleep and awake at the same time.
Maybe…now that Prowl was okay with Jazz biting him, he’d be willing to try the dream-speaking again. He’d liked seeing inside Prowl’s processor. It had felt safe.
0-0-0
Ultra Magnus was an early riser. He liked the quiet of the morning before anyone else was awake. He liked drinking his energon slowly and reading or tidying up. He liked the unhurried pace of the weekends when he could drag his mornings out longer, letting Prowl sleep in.
This hadn’t translated very well to working his second job which took place late at night. It had been further complicated when his brother had dropped a very small, very frightened sparkling off one day before going off planet.
It later turned out to be the best day of Ultra Magnus’s life, but at the time he had been late for a meeting with the Underground Council to discuss ways of stopping development into their territory that didn’t involve murdering construction workers.
The sparkling didn’t know his name, where his creators were, or who Ultra Magnus was. It made for a difficult introduction, with the sparkling a second away from bawling, staring up – and up and up because Ultra Magnus wasn’t small, even compared to full grown bots – and shakily saying ‘hi.’
Brave even as a bitlet.
Ultra Magnus never learned what Prowl’s first name had been, as his brother hadn’t bothered registering the sparkling, even though it had been twenty six vorns and the bitlet was starting to toddle. He’d done it himself, naming the small, curious being ‘Prowl’ to match his habit of ‘adventuring’ when he was supposed to be napping.
That first day, though, before he’d had his name and before Ultra Magnus knew how something so small would change everything, he’d been late and tired and out of options. There was no one he could leave the sparkling with in the middle of the night – no one he trusted anyways – because most of them would also be at the meeting.
So, Prowl’s first diplomatic mission had been strapped in a sparkling sling against Ultra Magnus’s chestplates. He’d recharged through the entire meeting and charmed half the tunnelers so much that the meeting had ended early and in Ultra Mangus’s favor (and the favor of the oblivious construction workers).
After that, Ultra Magnus had taken a more distant role and allowed Strongarm to take the lead.
It had been a surprise to receive a call in the night from Prowl – brave, protective, clever bitlet – that he’d found a lost energon-seeker sparkling and needed help.
Ultra Magnus had been waiting for Prowl to call – he’d been eagerly looking forward to storming down to the school and pulling Prowl and damn the consequences. He’d spent one miserable afternoon wondering what code words Prowl would use if someone were to be listening in on their conversation and how he could send coded messages back.
It was only later that he’d learned the supposedly ‘public’ communication station was guarded and censored. In the end Prowl had been forced to break into the comm to call him.
Of course he hadn’t thought to do so until there was someone else in need.
Pulling up to that school had been just a bit cathartic. He hadn’t waited for the Dean to let him in – he’d transformed and pulled the decorative road fence out of the wall. Then, as the alarms went off around him, he’d made his way to the dilapidated chapel.
Seeing Prowl, sitting calmly in one of the pews, the much smaller sparkling curled tightly into his side, Prowl’s arm around him, had made his spark ache.
This was not his brother’s creation in any way. Prowl had none of his careless selfishness or his thin way of talking that made you feel like you were wasting his time. He was not thoughtless. He took care of things whether they were his toys or his friends and even when they weren’t his at all.
Prowl was Ultra Magnus’s creation from helm to pede.
Prowl was his greatest achievement.
This morning Prowl had an exam he’d been fretting over and Ultra Magnus wanted to make sure he started the day well.
He set out Prowl’s favorite brand of morning energon and knocked gently on his door.
“Prowl?” He opened the door.
It was expected these days to see Jazz snuggled in beside Prowl in his berth. He came begging to be let in 5 nights out of nine. His carrier has asked Ultra Magnus if it was becoming a problem. He assured them it wasn’t. Secretly he was just relieved to see Prowl with more friends his own age. He had a few as school, but none as close as Jazz was becoming.
So, seeing Jazz wasn’t surprising.
Seeing the row of tiny, healing, fang marks was slightly more unexpected.
Among adults it was a serious step of trust. A good way to get energon-seekers to trust you quickly was to offer. It was something a lot of bots were hesitant to do – too many scary movies or too much baggage around it.
Ultra Magnus wasn’t sure if it was Jazz’s innate – and dangerous – cuteness or Prowl’s insatiable curiosity that had led to this. Possibly both.
He closed the door. He would give them both a bit more recharge and set out a second place for breakfast.