Title: "Audacity Wins"

Author: Kyra Neko-Rei

Rating: T

Pairings/Characters: Prowl/Jazz; Megatron, Starscream, Motormaster and assorted 'Cons.

Summary: Sometimes an overload is more important than finding a safe space to have it in.

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"Frag, frag, frag," Jazz swore, running hand in hand with Prowl down a Decepticon corridor, dodging laser fire and feeling oversensitized circuitry flare and ache inside him with every movement, every jar of pedes against the ground.

"Yes. Frag," Prowl agreed, and Jazz turned to grin at his bondmate slightly. Prowl swearing was always a treat, and after twelve hours of Prowl being imprisoned in the Decepticons' brig, Prowl doing anything was doubly wonderful. The only problem was that the Decepticon guards had interrupted their impromptu interface right after Jazz had gotten Prowl out of the cell, and both of them were charged to the point where not being pressed against each other was agonizing torment.

They lost their pursuers by sheer speed, rounding two corners before the Decepticons rounded the first one, and after a couple more twists and turns were all set to duck into an empty room and finish things when the alarm klaxons sounded, and Brawl's voice came over the standard all-access comm frequency, announcing the designation and probable general location of Prowl and Jazz.

"Frag slag shit fuck hell," said Prowl, and Jazz giggled, delighted to hear human profanity from the tactician's vocalizer. Then Megatron's voice responded, ordering all Decepticons to search for the intruders, and Prowl scoffed. "Intruders, my aft, they invited me." Jazz grinned. His bondmate could snark beautifully when he put his processor to it. Still, they were being hunted through the Decepticon base, vastly outnumbered, and Jazz ached for attention and release so badly it was all he could do not to whine out loud.

They collided with Motormaster midway through the next corridor, as the Stunticon commander stepped out into the hall, and it would have gone badly for them except that force increases exponentially with velocity, and the semi-truck had not been expecting them. Jazz leaped, careened off the opposite wall, rolled himself into a ball, and caught the big Decepticon in the midsection, knocking him hard into the side of the door and continuing on his way with little decreased forward momentum. They were around the next corner before Motormaster's howled suggestion reached them---and it shouldn't be arousing to hear oneself paired somewhat kinkily with a human bridge pier, but they were already aroused, and Jazz could not suppress a delighted shiver at the words.

Previous experimentation had made it quite clear that neither of them could overload from their own engine vibrations, and if that had not been the case, they would have done so by the time they found themselves nearing the Decepticon command center, having switched into alt-mode once they gained this level. The vibrations were driving Jazz crazy, and he doubted Prowl was any better off. They regained their biped forms with a moan from the tactician as plating shifted, and it was all Jazz could do not to jump him then and there.

No Cons were in sight, so Jazz moved stealthily forward, Prowl following. To their vast surprise, the command center was completely unoccupied, all mechs having left to search for the pair of them, and Jazz was about to push Prowl down behind a computer console when he saw Prowl looking off to one side with that lovely expression of devious delight that so few ever saw on him.

Jazz followed his gaze and quickly mirrored it---Prowl was looking at the door to Megatron's office.

This is too perfect.

Prowl attacked the door controls and they were in, Jazz jumping up onto the desk and pushing its assorted contents out of the way; datapads crashed to the floor, their screens shattering like bombs, and Prowl settled down astride Jazz's hips, doorwings flaring beautifully to frame his torso, and Jazz's hands reached up as though drawn to them by magnets, stroking, entranced as he ever was, even as Prowl descended to kiss him senseless.

Moaning at the touches, Prowl sent his fingertips skittering across Jazz's plating, making the saboteur's intakes stutter. Lost in their passion, they barely noticed the other sounds, Decepticons shouting in the command center, Megatron giving orders to various subordinates, and the phrase "I'll be in my office."

Jazz broke the kiss and said, "Shit."

The door opened.

Prowl said, "Frag."

Megatron stopped midstep, right in front of the doorway. "What the FRAG?!!" Behind him, Starscream looked over and let out a piercing shriek of laughter. And just like that they had an audience of every Decepticon in the room, as various exclamations of astonishment and laughter were uttered behind the top two in command. Megatron turned to glare at his soldiers, and both Autobots would later realize that that would have been a wonderful time to try and get out, but now was now, and if there was anything that mattered to either one more than their impending mutual overload, neither of them were in any position to think of it. Prowl attacked Jazz's neck cables with lips and denta, and Jazz threw back his head and moaned passionately, fingers tightening on Prowl's doorwing hinges and drawing an impassioned cry from the tactician.

Somebody catcalled; Megatron growled, a fierce sound resonating through air and floor and everything else, taking another threatening step forward. "Get off my desk."

Right now, however, Jazz had no patience for anything involving the Decepticon leader. "Go away! We're busy!" he snapped at them, denta clicking together in a threatening gesture he hadn't used since he was a sparkling.

Megatron actually stepped backwards, jaw dropping and optics flaring as he comprehended that he was being ordered out of his own office by an Autobot a third his size who was splayed out mid-interface on his desk. In that moment, with the Decepticons paralyzed by shock at Jazz's pure audacity, Prowl, ever the quick thinker, fumbled for the door controls mounted on the side of Megatron's desk, and the door slammed shut in the Decepticon leader's face.

"Now, Jazz!" Prowl's voice was frantic, ragged; his optics blazing and face set with lust so pure and hot that Jazz couldn't have hoped to disobey. His hands latched onto doorwing hinges and pulled the tactician down onto him as both their spark chambers flew open.

Overload came upon them like the wrath of Primus, and both of them screamed their pleasure to the heavens, writhing against each other and not noticing as the remaining contents of Megatron's desk were sent flying off the edges.

No time to revel in the feelings of release, blissful as they were after such extended torment; Prowl pushed off Jazz and leapt to his feet on the desk, pulling the saboteur up with him, and both moved to pull weapons out of subspace, Jazz looking around for another way out.

The hum of a charging fusion cannon could be heard on the other side of the door, and Prowl pushed at Jazz, wanting them to be out of the line of fire when Megatron blew the door open. Jazz shook his head, holding up two grenades.

Prowl tensed, waiting for them to move. The sound abruptly changed character, firing, and Jazz threw the grenades, one at the door and one at the nearest side wall.

The door blew up in Megatron's face.

Prowl and Jazz were into the other room like a flash, over to the door, and out into the main command center just as the last of the Decepticons charged into Megatron's office.

There was a great deal of yelling involved as the Decepticons followed the hole in the wall into Starscream's office and the door back into the command center, but by that time Prowl and Jazz were out of range, racing down the halls in their alt-forms, heading for the exit.

Megatron slammed a hand down on a computer terminal in anger; it shattered, the noised drowned out by his frustrated bellow. "AAAAARRRGH!" Starscream outdid him in pitch if not decibel level, shrieking his own outrage as he examined the hole in his office wall. "I'M GONNA KILL THE FRAGGERS!!!"

"STARSCREAM!" Now that was familiar; less so, the response was not a sneeringly sarcastic "Yes, oh mighty leader?" but a furious, snarled-out "WHAT?!"

"They interfaced on my desk, you screeching imbecile! Whatever the slag makes you think YOU have dibs on them?!"

"So what, they didn't break it! This may have escaped your notice, Megatron, but they blew a hole in the wall of min---" he paused midword, realizing the patently obvious. "Never mind."

Megatron gave up and laughed. At least something was going his way.