Love is Black and White
My BelovedProwl curled more tightly around Jazz as he booted up. Every morning, he wondered if the previous decacycle was a dream. Why would the most liked of the Autobots want to spend their off shift time with the most rule-abiding mech of the army? Why would the friendliest mech want to become friends with him? More importantly, why would the friendly saboteur want to formally court him for a bond?
Prowl was smitten with the rookie saboteur when they first met; the shiny silver of the mech's paintjob easily catching his attention. He was wary to vocalize anything because of the way the rest of the army commented about how he was emotionless, Sparkless, and just a strategist drone. No one at any of the bases he was ever transferred to ever seemed to be able to read his doorwings.
He was raised with the belief that body language says more than words. His Praxian frame was one of a few that truly expressed more emotion in body language than any other; his doorwings constantly shifting with each emotion and change of thought. He knew each angle of his wings had a different meaning, each type of flap and flutter meant different things.
The first time Prowl and Jazz had to discuss one of Jazz's espionage missions, he knew the silver mech was out of his reach. He contented himself to a friendship and never voiced his growing affections for the beautiful mech. As the vorns passed and they grew closer, Prowl failed to see his best friend trying to start courting him. It was a megacycle later, after a vicious battle, that Prowl realized that his best friend was trying to court him.
It happened while Jazz was recovering in the medbay after Ratchet repaired the silver Polyhexian; Prowl was scared that his best friend and long time crush was going to deactivate and he looked at all the memories he had his him. Looking back, Prowl almost hit himself when he realized what Jazz had been doing without him noticing. By the time Jazz was cleared from the medbay and able to do light shiftwork, Prowl had built the courage to confront him.
A few orns after Jazz was released from the medbay, Prowl asked the lithe mech to join him in his room for their evening energon. As soon as they finished their energon, Prowl slowly reached his hand out to touch Jazz's cheekplate, cautious that Jazz might pull away. When Jazz chirred and leaned into his touch, he slowly leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to his crush's. He was about to pull away when he felt Jazz tense. Before he could move, Jazz leaned into him and moaned, trying to deepen the chaste kiss.
For breems, the pair was inseparable. They would be found in Prowl's office doing reports when they were both on shift and Prowl was seen more often in the rec room when it was time to refuel. Jazz was frequently found curled up in Prowl's lap when he was able to drag the SIC to the rec room.
Even though Jazz was highly liked among the army, no one could figure out why Jazz stayed with Prowl longer than any of his other flings. When one of the soldiers made a rude comment about Prowl around Jazz, the 'Bot was hauled away to the brig for insubordination. Prowl was surprised to find a report on the incident written and submitted by Jazz himself.
For orns, Jazz curled up with the tactician in the Praxian's berthroom before the fell into recharge. Prowl purred as he rested his helm on Jazz's chestplates as the silver saboteur sang to him. Always singing different love songs from different cities from across Cybertron, even surprising Prowl with a not so well-known Praxian courting lullaby.
Every night, Jazz curled into his lover and contently, easily fell into recharge. He had never felt more safe with anybot else, not even when he was a youngling with his creators. Prowl was able to sooth his Spark like no other, he calmed him and gave him something to look forward to each night. Happy in each other's arms every night, they fell into recharge, both purring in happiness.
"Good night, my beloved," neither were able to remember who started the nightly saying, but both were content to whisper it to each other every night. It never mattered who said it first, as long as they were together every night.