Chapter Text
Prowl had to admit, at this point, that Jazz, while incredibly skilled and generally handsome, was also, possibly, a huge dork. He'd come to this conclusion after having been forced into close working proximity and realizing, that when he wasn't flirting up a storm, Jazz liked nothing more than discussing his work. In great detail. It was endearing. Much more so than all the flirting, tempting as that was.
Prowl had been sent to Iacon on loan to assist with an investigation around the theft of some valuable museum artifacts. He hadn't expected to run into the cultural investigator while he was there, as their jobs were relatively unrelated. Except that when he entered the debriefing about the case, there the mech was. It turned out he knew a lot about the artifacts, and a lot about the people that might want to steal them, and how they might be sold in the black market.
An indispensable resource and constant distraction. Given this opportunity to get to know more about Jazz, Prowl found he really did like what he saw. The mech was outrageous, flouting the caste system at every opportunity. He was genuinely friendly and interested in people and culture. He was clever enough to manipulate mechs of superior station with them being none the wiser. He loved music to the core of his spark.
If he didn't want to be caught, he wouldn't be.
Which is why it was eminently frustrating to Prowl, who could now fully admit he wanted Jazz, that Jazz seemed to have entirely quit flirting with Prowl!
It was maddening.
Prowl was running out of things to try. Any time he tried to bring it up and talk with Jazz, it back fired.
With every ounce of charm Prowl wasn't sure he possessed, he had tried to ask about hooking up as smoothly as possible, but Jazz had shied away and run with a poorly disguised lie. Thinking maybe for all the flirting the mech preferred a deeper emotional connection first, he'd invited Jazz on a date. Prowl thought that had worked when Jazz' visor had lit. But his spark promptly sank when the excited mech promptly turned to the rest of the room and said Prowl had invited them all out for a coworker dinner.
Initially, Prowl had wanted someone to just put him out of his misery.
Then one evening he'd been on a vid comm with his brother Smokescreen, pouting and yet unwilling to say why, when a solution was presented. His brother was very good at getting under a mech's plating, and so eventually, Prowl had caved and started 'sharing the deets', ugh. Having someone to discuss these things with was…a kind of relief though. Bluestreak was very supportive, and an excellent friend, but sometimes he was so earnest about emotion-y things that Prowl ended up too embarrassed to keep talking about whatever it was.
But the point.
The point was that, as Smokescreen had said, Jazz may be very sexy, but he clearly thought the same about Prowl. As demonstrated by, in Smokescreens words, what a 'clutzy, awkward little nerd' Jazz acted like when he wanted to impress Prowl, based on Prowl's stories. Prowl denied this vehemently, but Smokescreen would not be deterred, he told Prowl to really think about it, objectively.
And. Well. When he put it like that.
Prowl had found success the last time he attempted a very blatant performance.
Maybe he could try again, but this time, Jazz wouldn't be allowed to run away.
◈❖◈
Prowl had just dropped his stylus…again, and Jazz, as a result, walked straight into the door frame on his way into the office. Because they way Prowl had bent at the waist, aft perked up, door wings wide and relaxed, even doing a cute little bounce, that had to be on purpose. It had to be. Right?!!
No way he was imagining the coy glance thrown his way after either! Mercy! Jazz just wanted to hand Prowl this new tip from one of his sources and go home to relax and maybe release some charge in the privacy of his own home…
This was happening so often lately, Jazz was starting to wonder if he was going crazy. Sure, that night at the club had been…sinful. To be real. But that was a club! Even mechs like Prowl could loosen up and dance at a club! And! Jazz asking Blaster to pass on his comm after the show and Prowl messaging him didn't mean anything!
Not for lack of trying, Jazz did his best to flirt up a storm! But Prowl never seemed to run far with it, always gracefully changing the subject. And Jazz was even more fond of Prowl now than before, so he really didn't want to ruin anything while Prowl had to be here for work by pushing.
So backing off and talking about other things it was. It helped that Jazz genuinely cared about his job, and Prowl was an attentive listener. It was easier to tone down the flirting then. But then the invitations started, and Jazz must have just been misunderstanding, so he deflected!
But now Prowl just kept…
Dropping things.
Tripping on air into Jazz' arms.
Leaning over from behind to point at something on a datapad, one hand dangerously low on Jazz' back.
Lingering touches on his hands, sides, neck.
No no no. Prowl couldn't do this too him!
Jazz had never had this happen before! He was sure he could hear Blaster laughing at him but it was becoming a real problem! Jazz would walk into a room, see Prowl, and immediately develop a low level charge. Then Prowl would bend over like he was asking for something, and the low grade charge would surge up so fast it was embarrassing.
Running out of options, Jazz had started keeping extra coolant and cold compresses in his desk. There was also a small package of solvent wipes in his subspace, but that was just for the really bad days when Prowl dropped something under a desk and had to spend a breem on his knees, aft waving in the air and wings twitching while he pressed his bumper into the floor trying to retrieve his lost item.
It was torture.
His maudlin thoughts were derailed when Prowl's concerned face hovered into view. That collision must have given him a pretty good knock to the helm, because Jazz realized he was still crumpled on the ground. Looking up at this gorgeous, impossible mech, Jazz felt his resolve crumple. He was already running warm, and if Prowl did even one more slightly sexy thing. Jazz would do. Something.
"Are you okay, Jazz?" asked Prowl, leaning down closer to inspect Jazz' helm for damage. Even going so far as to take his face in hand and turn it gently this way and that, inspecting the scuffed faceplating.
That was it. Tolerance reached.
Surging up, Jazz flipped their positions, revelling in the little yelp Prowl let out at the sudden change in position. He pinned both of Prowl's hands over his helm for good measure. Wide blue optics blinked up at Jazz from an an adorably shocked face. The sound of fans spinning up filled the quiet space.
For a moment Jazz was sure they were his fans,but the sudden flush spreading over Prowl's cheeks said otherwise. Oh. Ooooh. Oh.
It had definitely been on purpose.
"Prowl."
"Jazz."
"Prowl, it's not very nice to get people charged up when they can't do anything about it you know?"
"Jazz, it's not very nice to spend an extended period of time flirting with a mech only to stop cold when they're the one on your city for once."
"Touche."
"Are you going to keep running?"
Jazz flexed his grip on Prowl's hands. He felt Prowl shudder underneath him.
"Hmm, well I do really like the view from up here."
"Yes or no Jazz." Prowl said sternly.
Jazz hummed and pretended to think about it. Just to enjoy the look on Prowl's face a little longer, but apparently he wasn't the only one tired of waiting.
Their faces were still very close together, and there was no time and nowhere to run when Prowl quickly leaned up and connected their lips in a kiss that didn't even pretend at innocence. By the time the both came up for air, static was running over both their plating, and the internal temperatures had spiked.
Optics locked, and intakes panting, Prowl asked again, "Well, Jazz? Are you still going to run?"
Nah, Jazz was done running.
"Yeah, think the mech I like finally got it through my think helm he likes me back."
Prowl smirked.
"Good, now, I think you should make all this trouble up to him."