MoonWallker kinda-sorta-maybe requested more of this, so, because renegadewriter8 has me hooked on submissive Prowl...

I really need a Youtube playlist for writing sex... Any ideas? Shit, now I want to go listen to the Skyrim rap just for the hell of it. I blame my brother for buying the damn game.

Umm... yeah. So, sticky interfacing, spark-sex, multiple overloads, Dom!Jazz, Sub!Prowl, slash and yaoi, two alien robots having sex, both getting fucking zapped, PWP,me being an obsessive fangirl. And, that just about covers the warnings!

Fucking mouse is a being a bitch again...

I'm tired. It's past 2 AM, but I don't like sleep, so I don't care. Don't expect this to be grammatically correct. That is way too much to ask right now, with as exhausted as I am.

…line-break…

Two frames, both black and white, pressed against each other. One shoved the second onto their berth, allowing himself to be pulled down as well.

Black hands reached for sensory panels, white ones ravishing well-traversed hot-spots. Cerulean optics met an azure visor, and Prowl's codpiece popped open, revealing a stiff spike and a lubricated valve.

"Jazz," he moaned.

The saboteur slipped two fingers into Prowl's valve, scissoring gently and reducing the mech beneath him to mewls and whimpers, the tactician writhing and arching into the meager contact. Jazz swiftly moved his other servo up to caress now-neglected doorwings, turning on his electromagnets.

A high-pitched keen tore itself from Prowl's vocalizer as he overloaded, the dual sensations being to much for his already overtaxed systems. A rush of wetness coated Jazz's hand as Jazz felt the overload echoed in both Prowl's EM field and through their spark-bond.

Prowl regained awareness while Jazz trembled, the Protihexian gazing over the precipice of sweet, sweet release...

...And Prowl's mouth covered the other mech's spike. Jazz cried out hoarsely, hips bucking up -when did he end up on his back?- into that glorious heat while the Praxian mech's glossa curled around the length, denta scraping across the ridged metal. A gentle suck later and Jazz was falling into ecstasy.

Prowl continued his worship of Jazz's spike as the saboteur came down from his temporary high. As soon as his lover was coherent, Prowl flipped so he was in Jazz's current position: on his back, interface array bared, and completely vulnerable.

Jazz was aroused immensely by the display.

"Prowler," he murmured, smirking, "Ah gotta pay ya back."

"You do realize that was me paying you back, don't you?" Prowl purred in response.

"Maybe Ah like havin' ya in mah debt." the words were growled strait into Prowl's audio, which sent heat and passion shooting down his spinal column.

"Primus."

Jazz chuckled, then moved down, mouth devouring his mate's chassis, suckling on armour and circuits alike. As soon as his destination was within reach of his glossa, Jazz let his metallic tongue sweep over Prowl's valve, savouring the pleasured scream that followed.

Prowl writhed in delight, screaming again when Jazz's glossa actually slid into his valve, the tip flicking against hyperactive sensors in the lining.

"Jazz! Ple- EASE!"

Deciding not to torment his bonded any longer, the saboteur allowed their arrays to aline, and thrust in.

They groaned in tandem, Jazz at the tightness and Prowl at the sensation of being filled. Jazz shifted, testing the waters, and Prowl threw his helm back and moaned wantonly. Every feeling, from lust to love, was exquisite, and it felt as though nothing could ruin that moment, as though it could only get better.

Jazz rolled his hips forward, drawing a soft, choked cry, and rewarded Prowl for the arousing sound with another thrust. Their breath intermingled, making love as efficiently as their frames. The pace was slow, gentle, loving as well as lustful.

Prowl allowed his chest-plates to part, revealing an intricate crystal spark casing and a pale blue spark. The casing split and slid away.

Jazz paused in his thrusting long enough to follow suit, exposing his own spark. He then let his chassis scrape softly against Prowl's, and his spark merged with the one belonging to the mech beneath him, and they were lost on the oceans of each other.

They were vaguely aware of their frames, but all their attention was focused on becoming one, on becoming Jazz-and-Prowl.

The merge completed, and overload slipped across the two bots' sensors like a dear friend. They separated, in both body and soul, and slipped into recharge, knowing the other would be there in the morning, and found peace in that.

…line-break…

Well, that's the worst ending I've ever written.