TRANSFORMERS: "CAN'T SAY NO"
Disclaimer: The characters belong to their respective owners; no money gained, only fun.
Prowl sharply let the air out of his vents with frustration. ⌠I don▓t. Need. Your. Help, lieutenant. Do I have to get this down in hand-writing for you to understand that I would like to stay alone and finish working with this data on my own, in peaceful solitude and blessed silence?■
He glared at the mech that stood motionlessly in the doorway of his office and watched the tactician with mild shock and some undecipherable emotion on his face.
The silence was deafening.
⌠I jus▓ asked if ya needed a hand Prowl, that▓s it,■ Jazz finally said in a quiet voice, and Prowl▓s spark contracted at the hurt he heard in that tone. ⌠See ya later, man.■ That said, Jazz slowly turned around and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Prowl put his elbows on the desk and cradled his face in his palms, his optics offlined, a low groan of anger and helplessness on his lips.
He was an epitome of a jerk. Everyone on the Ark considered him a prude, an uptight dork disinterested in anything that wasn▓t tactics and strategy, with no friends and real purpose in life. And what was even worse, he was behaving like that deliberately; because he was also an epitome of dysfunctional.
He cursed his own stupidity and stubbornness that had led him to hold back the information on his health status from medics when Optimus had started preparing a team of Autobots for the Earth mission. He▓d foolishly assumed that such a glitch in his system like lack of energy control wouldn▓t get in the way of his duty. How wrong had he been┘ From then on it only progressed. While at the beginning he was having mild troubles with keeping his spark reactions to other mech▓s affections in check, now he just needed the slightest of nudges to turn into a sex psycho, no matter the time, or place, or even person┘
He▓d successfully kept all of that a secret, until Bumblebee made a half-joking move towards him, and in the matter of minutes it had resulted in the madness of frantic grabbing that had frightened them both. Prowl had to come clean then, and made the scout promise he wouldn▓t tell anyone of their little encounter.
So, as of now, only Bumblebee knew how much of a glitch he was. The young ▒bot was keeping his promise, and the other Autobots were blissfully unaware. And that was fine with Prowl. They▓d be disgusted if they knew, without doubt, and he didn▓t need that.
But that wasn▓t helping the fact that, thanks to the same glitch, Jazz▓s attention was sending Prowl▓s processor into a confused state. The saboteur was clearly trying to spend more time with him, was starting friendly conversations with him, and had even offered to have energon together a couple of times┘
Prowl growled again. All of that was making him weak, a slave of an invisible enemy that was himself.
So he▓d chosen to be a rude jerk. The best way to make the others keep their distance he could think of.
With a cube of energon in his hand, Jazz sat down at one of the tables in the Ark▓s mess hall. Usually at this time of day this place could be considered one of the most popular spots on the entire base. Strangely, there was no one around. Maybe it was good, because the saboteur could just relax, ⌠in peaceful solitude and blessed silence,■ as Prowl had put it only several breems ago.
Jazz smiled to his thoughts.
He had always been known as a very patient mech. In fact, he was an epitome of patience. Because if you are a special ops officer, you got to be ready to wait however long it takes, to do your job. That included collecting information, planning, and sometimes such fragged duty as lying in ambush for days in absolute radio silence. He▓d had vorns to exercise patience.
That and he had short memory when it came to offences. He just couldn▓t stay really mad really long. Well, life has way more interesting things than hate. Besides, hate does more damage to the hater than to the one it▓s directed at. So, despite having been so rudely shoved out of Prowl▓s office, by the time Jazz reached the mess hall he was back into his cheerful self, his processor lazily going through the details of his last mission.
He was almost done with his energon cube when Prowl showed up. Jazz▓s gaze was instantly glued to the tactician, who made his way to the energon container and got himself a helping, and then glanced around the room briefly.
One would think that, considering the lack of any other mechs around, it would be natural for him to join the only other occupant of the room √ Jazz. But Prowl resolutely headed to the opposite corner of the room, and sat there, not even acknowledging the lieutenant▓s presence.
O-kay┘
The rigidness in Prowl▓s pose was obvious to Jazz. Someone might have thought it to be the tactician▓s usual state, but he couldn▓t fool the saboteur who▓d had a special eye for this particular mech for some time now┘
Jazz▓s visor covered optics secretly watched as Prowl tilted his head back to swallow the energon, exposing his throat in the process and thus making the saboteur forget about his own lunch completely. How Jazz wished he could nip at that throat and feel Prowl▓s moans vibrate through every cable he could reach with his lips┘┘
Jazz chuckled mentally. Prowl may be a pain in the aft, but Jazz himself was stubborn enough to match him, and then some.
He could wait. However long it took.