Author's Note: I intended to have this finished until the 24th as a little Christmas present, but it didn't work out quite as planned. I hope to get the rest up until New Year's Eve. So here's part one to keep you warm until then :-)

Warning: Pure smut, mixed with some soppy fluff for good measure. I couldn't help it, my muse insisted. Consider yourself warned. This is not beta'd, so, as always, if you spot any mistakes, please tell me and they will be fixed.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Transformers, and I do not make any money with this.

Part One

--*--

Prowl was standing outside the door to Jazz' quarters and simply couldn't bring himself to activate the door chime.

He didn't understand it, really. This would not be the first time they spent a night cycle together, and he wasn't intruding on his friend or something, either; Jazz had clearly invited him. And yet, after being so eager to get here, he suddenly felt strangely shy in a way that just made it impossible to lift his hand and press the damn chime button.

It had been so long since the last time… They'd still been on Cybertron at that point, and so much had changed since then - they had changed since then. Quite literally so; when Teletraan-1 had woken them from their long stasis lock, he'd had to slightly alter their bodies to fit the terran alt modes he'd chosen for them. They were practically two different mechs since then; if they interfaced now, it would more or less be a first time.

Prowl did not like first times. They required improvising, and always carried the possibility of failure. Improvising had never been his strong point, and failure was something he just couldn't accept.

His musing was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. Prowl cast a quick glance over his shoulders. It would not do for a senior officer, he decided, to be caught loitering in the hallways, staring at another mech's door like a dumbfounded sparkling.

He took a resolute step forward and activated the door chime. Almost immediately, Jazz' melodious voice answered with a cordial "Come in!" The door slid open, and Prowl stepped inside.

--*--

The room was only dimly lit, forcing Prowl's optics to adjust to the sudden change of illumination. They did so rather sluggishly, which reminded him of the fact that he was still quite fuel- and recharge-deprived. However, the sight that greeted him when his optic sensors finally came to terms with the new lighting conditions quickly diverted his attention to other, more enjoyable things.

Jazz was lying on the berth, propped up on one elbow, a data pad in his free hand. The soft light gently caressed the outline of his chassis, making the white parts of his armor plating glow brightly and the black parts gleam mysteriously, and both colors were beautifully contrasted by the deep blue of his visor. He looked up when Prowl entered, and gave him a fond smile.

"Wow," he commented. "Did you fly here?"

Prowl smiled in return. "It would have been impolite to keep you waiting after I stood you up once already," he replied softly.

Jazz sat up and put the data pad aside. "Well, why don't you sit down, then, and have a drink with me - just for the sake of politeness, of course," he teased.

Prowl wandered over to sit on the berth while he watched his friend retrieving two energon cubes from the dispenser - one of the privileges that came with Jazz' rank. He would have liked to sit on the chair rather than on the berth, actually, but Jazz had chosen this particular piece of furniture to pile his impressive collection of sound carriers on - or at least part of it, Prowl thought amusedly.

Suddenly he realized the soft music playing in the background. He hadn't paid it any heed upon his entry, for Jazz' quarters without music was a contradiction in terms. But now it caught his attention because the tune playing was so very un-Jazz-like. It was Earth music of the kind the humans called classical, interpreted by only two instruments - a flute and a harp, as a quick research confirmed. A very uncommon selection, considering Jazz' normal taste, but Prowl found that he rather liked it. The music was calm and soothing and discreet, and he felt himself relax a little bit.

Jazz sat down beside him and handed him an energon cube. "You like?" he asked, indicating the air with a small movement of his head. "Carly recommended this to me. It's not really my type of music, but I thought it might... establish the mood."

Prowl felt his circuits warm up a little at these words. "It's nice," he said. "Although I doubt Carly recommended it for that purpose."

Jazz laughed. "Spoilsport."

"Don't worry, I won't tell her." Prowl lifted his cube a little, and Jazz returned the gesture. His blue visor held Prowl's gaze firmly, not even once leaving his optics. "Cheers," he whispered, smiling.

For some reason, Prowl felt slightly unnerved by his friend's intense scrutiny. How on Cybertron could Jazz be so calm and confident when he himself had a thousand different thoughts and questions whirling around in his processor?

To distract himself, he lifted the cube to his mouth and took a hearty draught.

It felt as if pure light was seeping into his body. A wonderful warmth spread through him, suffusing all his circuits and tingling along each little wire like the touch of Primus himself. He had to set the cube down and cycle two, three heavy intakes of air through his vents.

Jazz watched him with a look of amusement on his faceplates. "Good?"

Prowl nodded automatically, still feeling somewhat lightheaded. "Very." He regarded the cube suspiciously. "Sideswipe's home brew, I guess?"

Jazz shook his head. "Uh-uh. Just the normal ration."

Prowl stared at him. "You're kidding." He had to be; this stuff was excellent, close to high grade even. How could this magical elixir be ordinary mid grade?

The look on Jazz' face shifted from amused to slightly worried. "Prowl, when was the last time you refueled?"

Prowl accessed his recent memory files and actually had to do a search run for the required information. "I think I had a sip or two yesterday," he answered sheepishly and felt a surge of hot embarrassment pulse through his spark as he realized the implication of his own words. Primus, this was humiliating. He tried desperately to control the erratic twitching of his door wings that gave away his nervousness, only subtly so, but a clear sign for anybody who knew what to look out for.

If Jazz noticed it, he had the decency not to press the matter further. Instead he leaned back against the wall behind the berth and softly patted the place next to him with his free hand. "C'mon," he said. "Sit with me."

Prowl obliged, carefully adjusting his door wings so as not to hurt himself. Jazz smiled at him encouragingly, and for a while they simply sat in companionable silence, listening to the soft music and occasionally sipping their energon. Prowl felt the twitching subside gradually as he savored the sensation of the purple liquid bringing his sluggish systems back to live.

Jazz was quicker to finish his ration and dispersed the empty cube before turning to his friend. "Feel better?" he asked with a soft smile.

Prowl drank the last mouthful and put the empty cube aside. "Yes," he answered, though he had the distinct impression that Jazz was not talking about the energon. "Thank you."

"Aw, don't mention it. I told you to drop by, remember?"

Prowl wondered idly how the saboteur had managed to suddenly get this close to him. He could feel the warmth that radiated from his friend's chassis, and the sensation was very soothing in its familiarity. Jazz' energy field brushed against his own softly, teasingly, a playful request, and he happily granted it, answering with a gentle push of his own. He felt Jazz' arm slip discreetly around his waist as his friend leaned on his shoulder and let their energy fields mingle and blend into each other slowly. Their individual signatures took a moment to fully align, but when they did, it felt like the most natural thing in the universe. Prowl inwardly shook his head at himself. Why had he been so reluctant? This was good, and sweet, and enjoyable, and Primus almighty, he wanted it, and Jazz was obviously willing to give him what he wanted.

He turned slightly to lean further into the half-embrace, pressing his face into Jazz' neck and lightly tracing a cable with his nose. Jazz gave an appreciative hum in response and wrapped his free arm around Prowl's shoulders, while his other hand sneaked up Prowl's back and eventually came to rest at the junction of his door wings, a rather sensitive spot, but Prowl thoroughly enjoyed the light caresses that were clearly meant to soothe and relax rather than to arouse. Apparently his friend was in no hurry, and he happily adjusted to the slow pace, leaning his head against Jazz' shoulder and stroking the small of his back gently. This, too, was a familiar pattern; they'd always liked to take their time, to establish a mood where interfacing was more an option than a necessity. It seemed that this was what Jazz had in mind, and Prowl had no objection whatsoever.

The mutual touching continued. Prowl felt his core temperature climbing slowly but steadily, and could tell that the same was happening to his friend. Nevertheless, he noticed quickly that Jazz had a streak of curiosity on him tonight. The saboteur was deliberately seeking out all the places of Prowl's chassis that had been altered in Teletraan-1's reformatting, obviously trying to make himself familiar with the unknown. He did so very tenderly, but still Prowl did not feel overly comfortable with this kind of exploration. He could not tell exactly how his body would react to a particular touch, and this made him uneasy, not to mention the fact that he was unsure how to respond. Was Jazz expecting him to do the same? Or should he better stick to his own tried and true methods? He just didn't know, and his door wings were twitching again.

Maybe Jazz had noticed the tiny movement, or perhaps he sensed a disturbance in Prowl's energy field. Whatever it was, he promptly abandoned his task and raised his head to look at his friend. "What's wrong? Wanna stop?"

"No, no." He shook his head quickly, almost an instinctive gesture. "It's just -"

No, he would not tell him. He would not ruin this by telling him that he was straining his processor over something that so obviously didn't bother Jazz. His friend had already been patient enough with him tonight.

"It has been quite a while," he said.

A mischievous glint became visible in Jazz' visor. "Yeah. It's high time, if you ask me."

Prowl had to laugh in spite of himself, but quickly fell silent again at what Jazz did next: He took Prowl's hands in his, interlacing their fingers, and started to gently guide them across his body. "Here," he said softly, pressing Prowl's fingers against the underside of what would be his bumper in his alt mode. "Remember this?"

Oh yes, he did. His fingers found the rhythm easily, and the sound of Jazz' hitching intakes nearly drowned out the soft whirr of both their cooling fans springing to life almost simultaneously. It still felt a bit awkward to have his friend directing him like this, but he took the opportunity to analyze the pattern of movement Jazz was employing, and this information finally gave him something to base a strategy on - and nobody was better at mapping out and pursuing strategies than Prowl.

Confidence running high suddenly, he indulged his friend whole-heartedly, laying him gently down on his back and settling himself comfortably on top of him, as close as their different build types would allow it. Not long and Jazz' hands abandoned his, leaving them to roam freely, and Prowl happily put his strategy into action, stroking and caressing, mouthing and teasing tenderly, and all the while he made sure to send warm, steady pulses through his energy field, wrapping his friend in a cozy blanket of affection.

Jazz' core temperature had reached the point of a comfortable heat. His vents were cycling hard, his visor shining a bright azure blue, and his engine gave short, gentle revs at each new touch. But what delighted Prowl the most were the sounds. Personally, he was not the kind of mech to be overly vocal in the berth, but he'd always enjoyed the way Jazz gave voice to his pleasure when they were together like this. Not that he was loud, no, definitely not. But every touch would coax forth a rapt little sigh, a low moan, a longing keen or, occasionally, a whispered plea or endearment. Oh, how he loved to hear his name spoken like this...

"That good?" he whispered into Jazz' audio receptor as he leaned close to nibble at a neck cable. A little static had crept into his vocalizer, he realized, and he felt an unexpected – and not overly pleasant - surge of light-headedness as he leaned forward, but he did not care about either. Jazz turned his head to look at him, and his hands came up to caress the insides of Prowl's door wings. "Hmm...," he murmured, smiling. "I missed this." His arms wound around Prowl's neck and pulled him closer so that their foreheads were touching. "Missed you..."

A heady mix of pleasure and longing rushed through Prowl's spark at these words, and he heard Jazz moan softly when the sensation extended into their combined energy fields. He knew from experience that he could overload his friend like this if he wanted to; with his hands and his field flares alone, but he would not do it. Jazz had gone through quite some trouble with him tonight; had kept him from frying his processor, had shared his energon ration with him, had been kind enough to forgive him his forgetting their earlier appointment, had even invited him into his berth... the least Prowl owed him now was a decent interface. He knew quite well how to clear his debts; he would not fob his friend off with half-measures.

Slowly, tenderly, he began his exploration, seeking out those places on Jazz' body that would allow for a physical connection between them. Most Cybertronians possessed several of those; ports and sockets that allowed them to link with all kinds of external systems - or with another Cybertronian, if desired. Depending on the build type, these places could be anywhere on a mech's body, but if memory served him right, one of Jazz' ports should be right... here.

The saboteur's engine gave an excited rev when Prowl's fingers traced the cover panel and then gently opened it to expose the port beneath. He watched his friend closely as he did so; no matter how much he wanted this, if Jazz gave him the slightest sign of discomfort or unwillingness, he would stop.

Jazz was smiling at him tenderly. It was this smile, Prowl realized, the one that had broken the spell back in his office, the one that he knew belonged to him, and only to him. A shudder passed through his frame as his friend plunged his energy field into his own eagerly, an invitation that couldn't have been clearer, and yet he had to ask.

"Is this alright?"

A twinge of impatience weaved its way into Jazz' field signature. "Slag it, Prowl," he whispered, his smile taking on a hint of naughtiness. "Jack in already."

Prowl's fingers shook slightly as he desperately fumbled for one of his connection cables, one that would fit. Holy Primus, but why did he have so slagging many of those things? But finally he found what he was looking for, Jazz' hand curled around his, and together they guided the plug home.

--*--

A contented, almost relieved-sounding sigh escaped Jazz' vocalizer when the connection snapped into place. There was no energy flow, no data transmission yet, but the slight electric tingle that teased both plug and port was enough to nearly drive Prowl crazy. He had to prop himself up on both hands and bring some physical distance between them to regain control. "Primus almighty and all his avatars," he murmured.

Jazz laughed at this, albeit rather shakily. He snaked his arms around Prowl's mid section and rested his hands on his door wings, pulling him back down gently. He had started to lower his firewalls, Prowl registered; slowly, sensuously, one by one, until his very core was laid bare. Prowl dared to sneak a glance upward, and found Jazz' visor practically burning.

"Be in me, Prowl," he whispered, voice heavy with static. "Please, I wanna feel you."

If the complete Decepticon army, led by Megatron himself, had blasted their way into the room at this moment, Prowl couldn't have cared any less. He plunged himself into Jazz' core processor, latching on to the data streams and memory files that were offered to him, and concomitantly initiated an energy transmission that sent a hot, prickling sensation through both their bodies. Jazz keened longingly, his fingers digging sharply into Prowl's back, wordlessly urging him to go further, deeper...

Something popped up in Prowl's HUD suddenly, together with another surge of dizziness, but among all the wonderful sensations that were assaulting his sensors he barely registered it. A line of Cybertronian glyphs was blinking irritatingly in his field of vision, and he briefly read something about critical energy levels... holy Cybertron, he had no time for such nonsense now! He erased the message.

Jazz was moaning and writhing and undulating so beautifully beneath him, his energy field pulsing hard and fast as images and emotions kept streaming back and forth between them, pulling them ever deeper into each other, and Prowl knew that his friend was close, so close, but still he wanted to give him more.

He felt his way up Jazz' side and quickly reached his destination: another cover panel, hot with excess energy, that clicked open willingly at his touch. The saboteur's intakes hitched at the sound and he stilled his movements, staring in disbelief. "Woah, man, are you gonna -"

Prowl plugged a second cable into him without further ado and started another energy transmission.

Jazz reared up underneath him with a strangled cry, but Prowl knew this sound much too well to mistake it for an utterance of denial. His friend's visor was flickering in a telltale fashion, his movements becoming short and erratic, and he knew it wouldn't take much now, just a few astroseconds longer, only some energy pulses more...

The world began to spin violently around him without warning, so much so that he had to grip the edge of the berth to keep from collapsing. His HUD was suddenly red with warning lights.

"Prowl? What's wrong?"

His body went limp all of a sudden, his arms and legs feeling as if they'd turned liquid. He was dimly aware that his head fell onto Jazz' chest plates with a clang, and felt hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him.

"Hey, buddy, talk to me! You're okay?"

He tried to speak, but his vocalizer wouldn't obey him. His vision flickered, and the warning lights were replaced by a new message: 'Energy levels critical. Temporary system shutdown initialized'.

No, no, he didn't have time for this. They'd been so close; he couldn't stop now, couldn't disturb Jazz' pleasure...

"Prowl, you're still there? Prowl!"

His world went black.

To be continued...