Work Text:
“C’mon, Prowler, please? It’ll be a good time, and a new experience for ya! Maybe ya might even find a new way to relax,” Jazz pleaded.
Prowl didn’t look up from his work, the only sign that he’d even been listening to Jazz was the frown marring his face. “You know I don’t like parties, Jazz. They are hard on my processor.”
“I know but,” Jazz searched for something to say to convince Prowl. “Please Prowl? I really want ya there this time. It would mean a lot to me.”
Prowl sighed, finally looking up at Jazz. “Emotional blackmail? You’re resorting to that?”
Jazz smiled winningly. “Nothin’ else has worked. Gotta try everything, ya know?”
Prowl’s mouth twitched slightly upwards. Jazz took that as a good sign. He leaned forward, quirking an eyebrow ridge. “Well?”
“If it means that much to you, then I will come,” Prowl said, his smile still lingering. Jazz whooped, and Prowl’s smile widened.
“I’ll see ya tomorrow night, then!” Jazz exclaimed cheerfully, leaving Prowl’s office.
“Yes,” Prowl agreed, “I will see you tomorrow night.”
The loud music grew louder as Prowl slowly approached the location of the party, as given to him by Jazz. Prowl couldn’t help the excitement that gripped his spark. Jazz had been so eager to have him at the party, Jazz wanted to spend time with him doing something he loved.
Prowl knew it was unlikely that his feelings would be reciprocated, but this gave him hope.
He entered the mess hall, prepared for the overwhelming noise and strobing lights. The mechs who liked to party really were dedicated to the decorations, Prowl would give them that. Normally, this much input would throw his processor into a spiral, but Prowl had dialed down the sensitivities in his doorwings, which prevented anything more than a helmache from occurring.
He spent a few moments simply observing the party itself. While Prowl himself couldn’t see the appeal, he understood how the mechs around him would enjoy it. It was a good way to let go and just have fun.
Prowl’s observation of the room at large ended, and he began looking around for mechs he was friends with. He kept an optic out for Jazz in particular, but he knew his friend was popular and likely would be right in the middle of things.
He wandered around for a while, watching mechs he knew and worked with lose their regular inhibitions. Occasionally he would run into someone he was friends with, like Ratchet or Sideswipe, but they never stayed in one place for long, and Prowl was only really searching for Jazz. After three joors without finding him and socializing with all the mechs he would want to, Prowl decided to give up. The helmache he’d had since entering the room had been getting worse and he now just wanted to go lie down on his berth. He’d had a decent enough time. Nothing he’d feared had come to pass. Maybe next time Jazz asked, Prowl would say yes right away.
He began working his way through the crowd towards the exit when the music stopped. Prowl heard loud groans all around him. He assumed that it was a simple malfunction with the speakers, until a beam of light shone directly on him.
“Oh hey Prowl,” someone said. “Shocking to see you here. I thought you were welded to your office desk!”
Prowl spun towards the elevated stage where the DJ had been playing music from all night. Instead of the DJ, there stood his tormentors, the reason he avoided all social events.
“Now why would a drone like you bother to show up here? I mean, mechs only come to parties to enjoy themselves. But you don’t feel anything. Are you maybe trying to study us normal mechs to better emulate us?” another one of them continued, smirking into the microphone he held.
The entire mess hall was silent as they continued their verbal assault.
“Trying to find some mechs getting into trouble? We know you love ruining fun.”
Prowl studied the mechs standing on the stage. This was a step too far. He wouldn’t stand for this. As he passed his optics over the mechs, he memorized who was up there. It wasn’t until he reached the last face that he reacted.
Jazz stood on the stage with them, staring at Prowl. That was the worst part. Prowl had thought that Jazz had wanted to share his joy with Prowl that night, but it turned out that Jazz had only invited him here to insult him.
He did the only thing he could think of in the moment and ran. No mech tried to stop him.
As soon as the music stopped Jazz knew something was wrong. It had only been natural for him to make his way over to the DJ stand to see what was happening. It was better than standing around talking to mechs he didn’t really care about, hoping that Prowl would eventually show up.
The moment he got onto the stand, he ran into Rubble and a few more of his friends standing around the sound system snickering.
“Oh hey Jazz,” Cascade said. “Here to find out what’s going on with the sound?”
“Yeah, mind tellin’ me what you’re all up ta?” Jazz asked, slightly suspicious but willing to go along with what they were doing if it was harmless.
“Just pullin’ a prank on this mech that’s been an aft to us is all. We’ll only be a few kliks,” Beacon replied.
Jazz considered for a moment. A harmless prank wouldn’t be too bad, and it would be a good story to tell Prowl tomorrow.
“A’ight, but keep it quick,” Jazz said.
Jazz got a thumbs up from Rubble, who then hit a switch. A light shone down into the grumbling crowd. Jazz turned to see who was the aft who’d be on the receiving end of this prank.
Prowl. So he had come.
And he was the victim of the prank Jazz had just agreed to let slide. Frag.
Once Rubble and the rest started talking, Jazz realized that this was no silly prank. He didn’t know how to react. He knew he should shut the sound systems off, but he was frozen. It seemed like many of the mechs in the crowd faced the same problem.
Jazz watched helplessly as Prowl was insulted and demeaned. His entire being screamed for him to do something, but all he could manage was to stare at Prowl. Prowl, who was suddenly staring back at him.
The moment their eyes caught, Prowl turned around and ran off through the crowd. The mechs he was on stage with, the mechs he had called friends, were laughing at what they had done. They thought this was funny. Jazz would show them funny. But later, now he had to go after Prowl.
Jazz glared at them as Prowl ran away. “I’ll deal with ya later,” he said menacingly, then hopped off the stage to follow Prowl.
Prowl sat defeatedly in his berth, trying and failing to read through reports. He knew no one would be able to look him in the optics for a while, but that was fine. He would just spend more time in his office. The only mech who ever actively sought him out was Jazz, who had shown a few breems ago what he really thought of Prowl. He let the datapad he held drop from his fingers and leaned back against the wall. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to get over Jazz? Even after what had happened, Prowl’s feelings for Jazz had not gone away. They were causing him a great amount of pain.
This would be a good time to actually be a sparkless drone.
He let himself fall into a stupor, thinking about how badly he’d been hurt by the mech he loved. He’d always known that his feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated, who would want to be with the cold-sparked Prowl? Nonetheless, he’d thought Jazz was at least a very good friend.
The mech had never been cruel to him, even when they had first met and Prowl was still nothing but an abrasive aft to him. Jazz had always supported and helped Prowl. What had changed? Had Prowl done something to Jazz? He couldn’t think of anything, but he wasn’t the best at social cues. Perhaps he’d unintentionally been extremely rude to Jazz. Even so, Prowl wished his friend had just talked to him instead of helping his tormentors.
A ping came from his door, bringing him back to awareness. Someone had realized where he was ‘hiding’. He sighed, not entirely feeling up to speaking to any of his friends. He ignored the pings, assuming the person at the door would decide he wasn’t there.
“Prowl! Please, let me in,” Jazz called through the door. Prowl tensed. What did Jazz want to say to him? Was he upset that he hadn’t had the chance to be cruel to him earlier?
Prowl clenched his fists, but decided to let Jazz in. He wanted to know why his closest friend would do this to him. He let the door open.
The moment the door opened, Jazz rushed into the room, desperate to make sure Prowl was okay. The mech in question was sitting in his berth, looking a mix of miserable, confused and determined.
Jazz immediately went to kneel at the side of Prowl’s berth. “Prowler,” he said breathlessly, “Are ya alright?”
Prowl’s expression changed to one of anger. “What do you think, Jazz? Did you think the little ‘joke’ you and your friends pulled on me would have no effect?”
Jazz reared back. “Woah, wait a klik. I didn’t have anything to do with that. I went up there to see what was happening with the music. They told me they were just gonna play a prank on some aft. If I’d known what they were gonna do, I woulda kicked them outta the party immediately,” Jazz hurried to explain, hoping his best friend would believe him.
Prowl was silent for a while, looking contemplative. Finally, he nodded. “I believe you,” he said.
Jazz vented in relief, glad he could still call Prowl a friend. Then he frowned.
“Hey, have they done slag like this before?” he asked. The expression on Prowl’s face answered Jazz’s question. “Frag. I shouldn’t have made ya come. Ya probably knew they would do something like this.”
Prowl nodded. “Yes. They have… threatened me before. They said they would humiliate me if I ever showed up at one of the parties. I did not bother to report it because I never went to parties anyway, so it seemed unimportant,” Prowl told Jazz.
Jazz cursed again. “I’m sorry I put so much pressure on ya to come. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Jazz said, feeling like complete scum. He’d put his friend in a horrible position.
“It’s not your fault,” Prowl told him. “I should’ve explained why I don’t spend any time amongst the troops. You didn’t know.”
Jazz squeezed Prowl’s hand, not daring to look the other mech in the eye. “I was friends with some of those mechs. I blew ya off a few times to hang out with them. I convinced you to come to the party tonight. Prowl, I am so sorry.”
Prowl squeezed Jazz’s hand back. “I already said you couldn’t have known. I don’t blame you Jazz, I blame them.”
“But I made you come to the party. Ya knew they would be there, ya told me ya didn’t want to come. You’ve always told me that ya don’t want to come. I should have left it,” Jazz exclaimed, dropping Prowl’s hand to cradle his head in his hands.
“I came because I enjoy spending time with you, and I know that the parties you throw are important to you. Besides, I didn’t think they would go this far,” Prowl replied gently.
Jazz let himself slump forward onto Prowl’s stomach. For a few seconds there was no movement from above him, then Jazz felt a touch on his helm. Prowl gently rubbed Jazz’s neck cables and Jazz finally relaxed properly.
“You’re the one who was hurt tonight, yet you’re comfortin’ me,” Jazz
“I do not mind. It clearly is affecting you more. I was mostly upset because I thought you were involved. When I saw you standing up there, I thought that you had invited me to the party only to humiliate me. I couldn’t stand it,” Prowl confessed.
“I would never, Prowl. I’m so sorry I made ya feel that way,” Jazz said, sitting up to face Prowl properly.
“I know that now. I was not thinking logically. I always knew you would never do something like that. But in the moment, I could not help but think it,” Prowl explained, almost embarrassed at the thoughts he’d lept to.
“I don’t blame ya for thinkin’ that. I woulda thought it as well. I’m so glad you let me in here, let me explain,” Jazz
Prowl hesitated for a moment, looking to the side. “I would always let you in Jazz. Always,” he said, still looking away.
“And I’ll always come knocking when you need me, Prowler,” Jazz replied, a wide smile now on his face.
Prowl smiled. Maybe his feelings were reciprocated after all.