A/N: I had been planning on writing this as smut, but I never finished it. It might as well be posted.

xXx

Jazz was animatedly speaking to one of his Horde when the feeling of being stared at tingled its creepy way down his neck. Of course, he was stared at a lot, but this was the feeling of being stared at by someone who didn't often stare at him, if that made any sense. It was a focused sensation, centered at the base of his helm and the base of his tail. Hissing briefly, he looked around, annoyed only for the sensation to leave. It came back a few moments later, when he'd stopped his searching. He looked around again, only to see Prowl staring at him. At the unusual heat in the Praxian's gaze, Jazz's fuel pump stuttered, his tail flicking rapidly.

His Horde member saw the staring as well, and commented, only to trail off, "He's looking at you like you're..."

Jazz picked up where the other had left off, heat inflaming his cheeks, "...prey." With his instincts telling him to move away from the sire-type, Jazz fled the scene, knowing instinctively that Prowl would chase after him, even if he would stay at a distance.

He heard the Horde member announce gleefully, "The Queen is being Hunted once again!" A reasonably quiet cheer rose up from the gathered Horde members.

Back with Jazz, he was strolling through the cavern, his pace quick yet unhurried as he guided himself, and by extension, Prowl, to the place he desired to be taken. If Prowl could gain his favor in sexual pleasure, Jazz would submit fairly easily; if the Praxian could not… Well, more than one sire-type had been sent to the healers while trying to mate with their Queen. Jazz paused in a clearing-type area, audios attentive to every little movement and sound around him. A soft growl drew his attention behind him, where he saw Prowl emerge from the shadows.

The Queen crouched, ready for anything the potential King would do.

Prowl circled around the Queen, gazing attentively at the smaller Scorpid. He cautiously approached from behind, hissing softly into the other's audios. His servos skimmed along black hips, pulling away at the warning flare of upper body armor. A wet glossa licked across sharp shoulder armor, relaxing the black Scorpid somewhat. Jazz turned, backing away from the other's grasp, causing the sire-type to hiss at being denied. Strangely, Prowl didn't follow after the carrier, merely looked at him with contemplating optics.

Jazz knew it was strange. A Scorpid running on instincts should have been constantly pursuing their chosen. Instead, Prowl was thinking, or trying to think, about his next move.

The Queen's breath hitched when he caught sight of the other's swishing tail. A smirk soon decorated the Praxian's face, and Jazz knew he was in trouble. That swishing tail swayed seductively, flaring. Heat built between the Queen's legs.

Prowl approached him again, fully aware of his Queen's increased intakes. And yes, his Queen, Jazz would be his before the night was through.

A white servo stroked down black faceplates. While looking up into the red optics of the other, Jazz leaned into the touch. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but he stayed firmly put. Prowl was showing care for him, and was that not what Kings were supposed to do? Care for their Queens? Instincts calmed down to a mere grumble at the thought. Feeling Prowl's tail wrap around him, the Queen glanced over his shoulder at the white appendage. Thoroughly distracted, he didn't notice when Prowl slipped lower until a lick over his valve panel startled him into squeaking.

He tried to push the other away, but his servos were merely caught and trapped against his sides. He whimpered. Prowl growled softly against him and nipped the edge of his modesty panels.