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Jazz liked Earth.
It was full of life and beauty like no planet he ever experienced. Just driving around the city he could hear the din of traffic and the sounds of so much music. Human music was… fun, funky. Full of energy. Humans used it to express their emotions, or to highlight their personality. Some humans dressed themselves in shirts or jackets, or decorated vests with patches, wore colorful headgear for playing music, or kept their musical devices on their arms or in their pockets everywhere they went.
They had groovy taste in art, in vehicles, in music.
Even their holidays were colorful and vibrant, full of songs and jokes and decorations. There was music for everything. It floated, it was free, it was alive.
These fragile organic creatures that had such short lives, lived for their moment in bursts of color and sound, determined to fill their flickering lives with wonder.
They all had their own beats, their own songs.
He asked Sari about it once, and she delightfully showed him around downtown. In the summer, he escorted her to a music festival, much to the chagrin of both Optimus and Professor Sumdac.
It was fine, of course. There was no better bodyguard in the galaxy than your personal ninja-bot.
But, for all of his love of Earth, sometimes…
Jazz got homesick.
He lingered around the base, went for long drives, tried to meditate, but nothing shook the loneliness, the distance from Cybertron. Sentinel… said something about it (but Jazz never listened to his commentary anyway).
Even as the restlessness settled in, Jazz didn’t want to ask to return to Cybertron. He wanted to tag along with the bots here until it was safe, and he liked spending time with Prowl.
Prowl loved Earth as well, and Jazz loved Prowl. He could sense that Prowl loved him as well, though the two never spoke of it. Instead, they took a quiet solitude in shared company, spending time together for mundane activities including recharge, meditation, and teaching Sari how to suplex giant foes.
It was during one of their meditation sessions that Prowl finally spoke up, detecting the disharmony in Jazz’s field as he longed for home.
They went for a drive, but even the bustling energy of the city wasn’t enough to ease Jazz’s mind. They detoured away from downtown and down an exit ramp, following smaller and smaller roads, until they reached a rocky outcrop on the edge of the lake outside of the city, far enough from the general populace that it was safe to transform and go for a walk.
The edge of the lake here was crowded with rocks and boulders, rounded by the onslaught of water over years upon years. Younger, craggy outcroppings jutted out over the lake. Two ninja-bots easily made short work of the rough terrain, and settled down into a meditative pose as they faced the water.
The wind rippled the surface of the lake as lazy clouds rolled across the sky.
Prowl was watching them, but Jazz found himself watching Prowl. He knew Prowl was fond of this planet, and that its shifting, organic nature brought him peace. There was a secret beauty to this place that Prowl had deciphered and kept close to his spark, a connection to it that Jazz admired.
“It is unlike you to be so troubled,” Prowl commented unbidden, his gaze still on the water ahead of them.
“A bot’s just got a lot on his mind sometimes. This planet, it’s your zen. Don’t get me wrong, its citizens are groovy. Learnin’ their culture, listenin’ to everything they have, it’s fun. I’d gladly take up post here for however long I was ordered,” Jazz answered, visor dimming as he followed Prowl’s gaze.
His fellow autobot was watching the way the water level rose and sank as every ripple from the wind brushed across the rocks, leaving ghostly wet outlines when the water stilled.
“Sometimes… I wonder what our impact upon this world is. Even when we maintain our vehicle disguises, I can’t help but notice that, like the water still leaves lines upon this rock and shapes it over time, so do we upon this planet,” Prowl replied, his voice contemplative.
Jazz let his vents cycle a full time.
He’d thought of that too, but Prowl articulated it in such a way that it sounded… tragic.
“I suppose you’re right, mech. But this planet’s civilization. It’s so young. They’re bright an’ vibrant, and in a way, even though they look nothin’ like us, they’re a lot like us.”
Prowl paused, then finally turned his gaze back to Jazz. “Explain?”
“Hm, it’s simple, really. They got short lives, so they pack them full of everythin’ they can, right? But just like us, they fight with passion and rage, and seek meaning. They might not have sparks, but they sing an’ party, cry, an’ love, just like we do. I wanna protect them, they shouldn’t hafta worry about our wars…”
Silence reigned between them for a moment, and in it, their unspoken lament.
Regret that such a beautiful planet had come into the crossfire of their war.
“You’re… homesick,” Prowl observed after a long moment.
“It’s that obvious?”
“Well, if the humans remind you of our fellow Cybertronians, I presume your disquiet is from the reminders of home.”
Jazz chuckled, tilting his helm back to look at the sky.
The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon, lining the edges of the clouds with yellow, setting the edge of the horizon ablaze with orange. “Disquiet, huh? Sorry my field’s outta whack then if my vibes are that off. Ya know I’m not a fan of quiet, either.”
This elicited a small laugh from Prowl. It was a rare, small sound that Jazz treasured. His favorite sound Prowl made.
Well, aside from all the sounds he made when their glossa entwined. Prowl was always humble, whether by discipline or if he genuinely lacked self-esteem, and though humility was a virtue, Jazz also wanted him to be the happiest, most loved mech in the universe. Prowl could see the value in everything, and find life and beauty anywhere.
Jazz wished Prowl could see that beauty in himself.
If only Prowl could see himself how he appeared through Jazz’s optics. Sitting here now, feeling the gentle stirring of the wind and the sounds of the water around them. The waning sunlight in the onset of dusk outlined the black and gold lines of his frame, illuminating it in a gentle gold shine.
If he listened closely enough, isolating and blocking out all other sounds, he could hear the gentle sounds of their engines. In this peace, Jazz could watch the colors of the sky slowly shift and change, as yellow upon the clouds turned to orange, then pink, brushed with streaks of light as they floated on the same breeze they were feeling now.
“Hm… Come with me. There’s something I’d like you to listen to,” Prowl finally said, standing abruptly.
Jazz followed, curious.
They walked in relative silence for some time. The stones shifted beneath their pedes due to their size and weight, despite the light nature of their steps. Jazz paused when the crunching sounds of each step were interrupted by a klink.
It was a discarded glass bottle. Jazz picked it up, turning it over in his hand. It clinked between his digits when he picked it up, dumping out the rainwater and mud that gathered in it since someone left it here. The label was rubbed away, leaving the translucent green glass bare, with only vague lines of glue. It was an item he saw as beautiful, but some human had carelessly tossed it here after emptying it of its contents. He frowned, tucking it in his subspace.
Prowl led Jazz to where the treeline met the water, and the roots of a large elm splayed out through the solid dirt where it had soaked and fallen away into the water’s edge, revealing a twisted network of roots not completely unlike a more curved version of data networks Jazz had seen.
Its branches stuck out over the water, and leaves torn from their branches by the wind floated down, gathering in the water below.
Beyond it were more trees, but the brush here was not so thick that they had to resort to jumping along branches to navigate the scenery.
There was no path to follow, but Prowl was nimble and careful not to disturb too much of the greenery as he jumped over bushes and navigated the undergrowth. They were not far from the water when Prowl stopped, settling onto a low branch of a hulking tulip tree. He crouched there for a few nanokliks, before unfurling his legs, letting one pede hang, while keeping the other up, knee bent to his chest.
Jazz tested the strength of the branch with his servo before jumping up, landing effortlessly beside the other ninja-bot. The leaves of this tree were larger than those of others in the area, and he turned one over between two digits for a moment.
The forest floor spread out before them until its abrupt end where it met the water. The breeze here rustled branches and in turn, leaves echoed its sound. There was the distant hum of insects, buzzing through the heat of the day and winding down slowly as dusk crept in.
Squirrels were chattering away in a nearby tree, and somewhere further into the wood, a woodpecker was knocking.
It was a distant rhythm, overlaid with the melody of twilight birdsong.
A song of nature.
And as they sat there on the branch of the massive tree, not speaking, but silently taking in the scene, the song began to change. As the sun dipped lower and the yellow and orange of the horizon faded to blues and reds, the song became something different.
Crickets chimed in as the buzzing of bees and beetles began to fade. The birdsong quieted and became sparse, until it fell silent, replaced with the occasional, echoing call of an owl. Frogs began their own distant warbling chorus as the stars became clear against the backdrop of the night sky.
After a time, Jazz let his hand rest over Prowl’s, slowly intertwining some of their digits.
“Leave it to you to find the freshest beats in town,” Jazz whispered, his voice low and soft, not wanting to disturb the song around them.
“Hm, I am not sure they could be the freshest. They are not new. Younger than us, yes, but the most ancient song this planet has to offer.”
Jazz tilted his helm back, visor dimming as he peered up through the canopy. It gave him pause; watching the stars above, and how the moonlight cast gentle rays that created blurry shadows between the leaves.
Cybertron felt so far away.
He couldn’t even see their sun from here, and he cycled a long vent.
“It’s not gonna make me stop missin’ Cybertron, but…”
He let their digits interlace fully, squeezing Prowl’s hand gently.
“But…?” Prowl continued, visor dimming for a brief moment.
“But… I think I like bein’ stationed here. Maybe enough that I wouldn’t mind callin’ this place home.”
Prowl leaned against him, and Jazz watched the way the light slid across his armor in perfect elegance. He shifted his weight to let Prowl lean his helm on his shoulder, only after Jazz planted a chaste kiss atop it.
“You know, I don’t think I would mind that either.”