Not Entitled

“Think you can do that?”

“Do what?”

Rodimus cocked an optic ridge at the other mech. Really. They were going to have this discussion again. This was the third time he had repeated himself in the past joor.

“Were you even paying attention, Prowl?”

“If you are talking about the many things you think I need to do to Jazz, than no, I was not,” Prowl replied as he flicked his doorwings slightly and scribbled something on the datapad. Who was Rodimus kidding; Prowl didn’t scribble. “Please do not speak to me again about such things. They are hardly relevant to my station.”

Rolling his optics in annoyance, Rodimus stood up and walked out of Prowl’s office. How could Jazz stand the mech? There were wet blankets all through the Autobot army, but there were wet blankets and then there was Prowl. The mech just sucked all the fun out of the atmosphere! Everything was so boring and organized and strict and UGH! How could Jazz, fun-loving, joking, dirty-mouthed Jazz, stand to be in the mech’s presence?

“You look like you just finished talking to Prowl,” Jazz’s voice chuckled from one of the doorways that Rodimus had just walked past.

Bouncing backwards, Rodimus nodded to the black and white saboteur. “I did. Is it that obvious?”

“I’ve never seen you look more miserable than when you’re done talking to Prowler,” Jazz smirked. “What you try to bend his audio with this time?”

“I was trying to tell him about this nice little shop that opened up downtown,” Rodimus nodded. “Teaches mechs about their pleasure systems and how to not only keep themselves revved but their partner too.”

Jazz’s face actually fell and he shook his head. “Roddy, mech, don’t do that to him,” he sighed.

“Don’t do what?” Rodimus asked in confusion.

“Don’t tell him that he should be revved,” Jazz replied with a surprisingly angry frown. “Primus’ golden helmet, mech, that’s one sure-fire way to ruin his orn!”

“What?” Rodimus asked innocently. “I thought you would appreciate it.”

“Frag, I would love to go to something like that and just play around,” Jazz laughed bitterly. “But Prowl ain’t like that. Frag, I’m probably going to have to do damage control thanks to that stunt.”

“Damage control?” Rodimus echoed before Jazz started walking towards Prowl’s office. “Hey, hey! Wait up.”

“Uh uh, you stay right there,” Jazz ordered with a shockingly stern voice. “There ain’t no way in the Pits of Unicron that you are going into Prowl’s office until I’m certain that you didn’t just make him a very pissy mech.”

Rodimus blinked in surprise as Jazz walked down the hallway and vanished into Prowl’s office. What was that all about?
________________________________________

Jazz sighed as he approached Prowl’s desk. Sitting on the edge, he smiled at his pretty little Praxian. “Hey, Prowler,” he cooed.

“Jazz, as happy as I am to see you,” Prowl flashed him a brief smile and a look that would have melted the coldest mech’s spark into a puddle of adoration and devotion, “I am working and I need to get this finished for Optimus.”

“I just wanted to make sure that you were alright,” Jazz replied with a soft sigh. “Ran into Rodimus and he told me that he came in here to talk to you about….” He made a small, rather helpless motion of his hands.

Prowl’s doorwings flared up behind his head. Jazz smirked in spite of the open display of hostility. Prowl wasn’t angry at him; he was exaggerating his emotion so that Jazz, for all his lack of doorwings, could understand how very irritated he was.

“Yes, I am starting to grow annoyed with how many mechs seem to think that I need to be taught how my systems work,” Prowl growled angrily. “It is bad enough when they bother me with such trivialities when I am off work, but for them to start pestering me while I am working is unacceptable.” He rubbed his olfactory sensor furiously, exaggerating his emotions even more so that Jazz could understand. “Why do they think that I need such…assistance?”

“Because you’re dating the biggest fragger to ever grace the Autobot Academy halls,” Jazz laughed. At Prowl’s confused optics, Jazz smiled. “I have a huge sex-drive, remember?”

“And the implication is that I have to satisfy you?” he asked.

“Well, that’s what everyone assumes,” Jazz smirked. “And since you are clearly still as tight-afted about everything, they assume that we aren’t doing anything.”

“Which we are not,” Prowl frowned. “How does changing my personality tie into interfacing?”

“Oh, just the assumption that interfacing loosens up the uptight mechs,” Jazz smiled.

“The minds of mechs is astounding; perhaps they should try applying real logic to a situation rather than the fantasy of the datapads you enjoy,” Prowl flicked his doorwings in amusement.

Jazz laughed and shifted closer to share a gentle kiss with Prowl. “Mmm, I’ll leave you alone,” he smirked. “Meet you in your quarters later?”

“There will be some high-grade for you,” Prowl promised with a kind smile before he returned to his datapad.

Jazz watched his love in adoration for a moment before he quietly slipped out of the room. He barely got two steps before Rodimus, and surprisingly Drift, flanked him and started demanding information about what happened. He did his best to not to roll his optics in annoyance. The two of them were sweet, but really, Prowl was not the kind of mech to have dirty gossip about.

“I just checked to see if he was alright,” Jazz stated calmly. “Nothing else. Really, it was what, two minutes? What do you think happened?”

“You could have sucked him off,” Rodimus smirked. “You know, made him nice and….”

“Rodimus, stop that,” Jazz sighed in annoyance. “Prowl does not like that.”

“But you do,” Drift pointed out with a polite smile.

“What’s your point?” Jazz asked.

“He really should consider your feelings,” Rodimus nodded. “You need your needs met and since you two are dating….”

“Rodimus, Drift, let me make this as clear as I can,” Jazz stated as he turned around to address both of them. They might have been taller than him, but it was amazing how tiny they seemed when he was in full “lecture” mode. “Prowl is asexual. My needs can be met by others, but it would be selfish of me to force him to satisfy me when no one mech ever could. He is alright with that. We are both happy.”

“But you two are dating!” Rodimus whined. “He should be the one making you happy. Why can’t he just….”

“Rodimus, if you have a processor in that cranium of yours, you will not finish that sentence,” Jazz growled as he bristled. “Prowl is not my bitch; he will never be my bitch. He is completely in control of his chassis and if he does not want to interface with me because he has no desire to, fraggit, I will not force him.” Leaning back and snorting loudly, he glared at the two cringing mechs behind his visor. “Now never bother him again or I will come after you and you will be hanging from the ceiling for several joors before anyone finds you.”

After getting two very dejected “yes sir” from the two mechs, Jazz turned and walked off. He hated having to do this; he didn’t like reprimanding mechs, but he would not stand for anyone to slander Prowler like they were. It was not right and he would not stand for it.
________________________________________

Walking into Prowl’s quarters, Jazz smirked. If only the other mechs could see what he could. The mood-lights were wonderful and the soft music was beautiful. Closing the door behind him, he strolled over to where Prowl was sitting patiently on the couch. He had a datapad in his hand, but Jazz knew that it was not work related.

“Heya, hot-stuff,” he purred as he crawled onto Prowl’s lap and kissed his neck.

“Hello, Jazz,” Prowl smiled as he trailed his hand down his back. “Your orn was eventful?”

“Told Roddy and Drift off for thinking that you were my personal frag-doll,” Jazz replied.

“That would explain why Drift was more than willing to run errands for me today,” Prowl chuckled. “They truly believe that I am indentured to you for simply dating you?”

“Yup,” Jazz snorted. “Really, it’s annoying. I mean, come on, how can anyone expect one mech to satisfy my needs?”

“You are hornier than most cybercats in heat,” Prowl agreed as he snapped his fingers for one of his serving drones to bring the high-grade over. “Thank you for standing up for me, Jazz.”

“What are mech-friends for?” Jazz smiled adoringly up at Prowl as he accepted the cube of refined high-grade energon. “Besides, I had to scare them off before they thought that they could frag you and show you how much fun you were missing out on.”

“I do not see how rape would be considered ‘missed fun’,” Prowl commented dryly. “Besides, I doubt that anyone’s taste or self-esteem would be so low as to accept the unsolicited advances of two mechs who clearly don’t know what the slag they are dealing with.”

“That wasn’t what I meant, but Primus is that a disgusting thought,” Jazz growled around his energon. “If they ever touch you….”

“You will have to get in line behind Optimus, Bluestreak, Smokescreen, Chromedome, and Ultra Magnus,” Prowl smirked. “I have a surprisingly far-reaching influence on the mechs around me.”

Jazz smiled up at Prowl. “I love you,” he cooed happily.

“I love you too, Jazz,” Prowl smiled in return, his blue optics twinkling beautifully in the dim lighting.

His hand trailed down Jazz’s back and Jazz let out a long moan of delight as Prowl’s talented fingers set to working his sensory net over. Prowl might not have liked interfacing, but Primus did the mech know how to make him a wet pile of happy Jazz. Between the energon, the soft music, and the mood lighting that made Prowl’s dark optics glow, it was set to be a very wonderful and relaxing evening.