[identity profile] kalaryx.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] kinkfest
Title: Dreaming Planet
Author/Artist: [livejournal.com profile] kinrazza
Rating: T
Warnings: Some mecha smut, small amount of plug n' play. Jazz's accent. (Sorry, I never know whether to include it or not. :/)
Word count: 1031
Summary: For prompt: Transformers (G1), Optimus Prime/Jazz: comfort sex - "Quit denying it - you need this."



Cybertronians do not dream.

To dream is to allow the processors to run in a state of disorder that has no space within the clean lines of Primus' creations. To dream is to allow oneself the illusion of something other. To dream is to step beyond the original parameters of one's basic programming and pretend to be something that one is not.

He has been dreaming for millennia, and sometimes he doubts himself.

It is raining on Earth, three hundred klicks north of the planet's equatorial line. Optimus Prime stands in the fall of water and watches his Autobots play. They've picked out parallels between the exercises of skill they were programmed with and the games the humans play in the pursuit of distraction. Native organism and colonist alike splash through mud and filthy water, shouting and laughing and honing skill sets they would never think to label as anything but playful. Nothing but friendly mechs playing together with their new human companions.

"They need it, Prime," his second lieutenant says and he wonders how long the saboteur has been stood there.

"I hope it lasts, Jazz," Optimus replies heavily. "I hope it lasts."

The saboteur eyes him sideways and doesn't reply, just tilts his head up to meet the rain and then shakes his head like a dog to clear the water from his visor. "Come inside," he says. "Ah wanna show ya something."

"What is it?" Prime says when they have reached the main hangar, but Jazz shakes his head again and forges ahead into the corridors of the Ark. "This way," he says, and Prime follows him.

When the doors to his quarters slide closed behind them, Optimus thinks he knows. They stand in the Prime's rooms because Jazz would never presume to take him back to his own, and this way Optimus can ask his subordinate to leave without falling foul of the restrictions of protocol. He notes that the saboteur still knows the code to his quarters even though Prime changed them after the last time Ravage got in, and he notes too how Jazz enters ahead of him, unlocking the door without even asking. It might be for security's sake, or it might be to prove a point, or perhaps it's just that they've known each other long enough to expect a certain level of skill to be taken for granted. He never can tell with Jazz.

The saboteur passes along the edges of the room, fingertips trailing over consoles and touchscreens until he turns with a half-smirk to face his Prime. Optimus watches him in silence and waits.

"Never much liked the rain," Jazz drawls and takes a step closer, then another. He's still shining wet with water, droplets hanging across the smooth blue of his visor and Optimus reaches up a hand, running the pad of his thumb across the surface to clear them away. Such an intimate gesture, but his second lieutenant allows it. Jazz steps in close then, into the range of his personal electrical fields and Optimus sighs, turns his head away and says, "Jazz…"

"Quit denying it - ya need this."

One of them needs it, but Optimus is too much of a Prime to point this out. He's glad anyway of the other's fingers on his chassis, trailing up his flanks and teasing beneath the grooves in his armour, and he lets his hands come to rest on the saboteur's back, drawing him in and against himself. Jazz hums something, some song he's picked up from the airwaves, except when Optimus concentrates on it he realises that he recognises it from back home.

Four steps to the recharge berth, a convenient place to bring them both level and Optimus lies back with Jazz straddling his thighs and lets the saboteur play. It's easy after that to let himself drift, to trace his fingertips up the sides of the smaller mech and across his shoulders. Easy too to rub the pad of his thumb in circles up the side of the saboteur's sensor horns and listen to him moan. He has a beautiful voice, Optimus thinks.

After that it's a simple thing to open his firewalls and let the saboteur in. Saboteur indeed, he thinks as Jazz slips between the layers of his defences and sets up feedback loops that make Optimus groan and lose his optical input for a moment. Keepin' ya on the straight an' narrow, Prime, he gets in return and both of them share the wash of humour that comes with it. Later, when Jazz is curled into his side, his back pressed against Optimus' flank, is when he thinks to wonder if that's all there is to it.

He comes out of a light recharge some time later to find Jazz sat up beside him, cleaning his visor with a polishing pad that he's pulled from subspace. Optimus watches the pale glow of the saboteur's optics in the darkness until Jazz glances sideways and away again. "Go back into recharge, Prime," he says softly, and the movement of his hands doesn't still. Optimus powers down his optics and closes down his systems one by one until he's fully offline.

In the darkness, Optimus Prime dreams. It's an unusual thing, a human thing, a processor glitch that has no place in the mind of a high-ranking Cybertronian. An indication of underlying system fragmentation some would say. Glitched, would be the more unkind conclusion.

In his dream, he hears the rain and feels it on his chassis, trickling down between the grooves in his plating until it's worked its way inside his energon lines and the cold of it wraps around his spark. He can hear Jazz humming that song beside him and it sounds like something he heard once, a long time ago. Heard it on the radio, Jazz says. They used to play it all the time back home, so I was real pleased to hear them playin' it here too.

That doesn't make sense, Optimus says and the saboteur shrugs. Straight an' narrow, he says in reply.

Optimus Prime dreams, and when he wakes again, it is to darkness and he is alone.

Date: 2008-06-03 01:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] raisedbymoogles.livejournal.com
*wibbles and cries* Jazz! Optimus! Flaaaiiiil!

Date: 2008-06-03 01:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dytabytes.livejournal.com
This is very pretty. I'm not a shipper of the pairing, but I like the way you've used dreams to open and close. It gives things a connected feel.

Date: 2008-06-03 01:25 am (UTC)
nkfloofiepoof: <lj site="livejournal.com" user="pureglasscup"> (squee!)
From: [personal profile] nkfloofiepoof
*mass of squee* Yeeee~ Thank you so much for writing this~ Jazz/Prime isn't a pairing that gets seen very often, and even less often written so well ♥

Date: 2008-06-03 02:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tainry.livejournal.com
Beautiful! <3 I can just see them, all bedewed...
And Prime dreaming...very nice. <333

Date: 2008-06-11 08:52 am (UTC)
ext_38613: If you want to cross a bridge, my sweet, you have to pay the toll. (Default)
From: [identity profile] childofatlantis.livejournal.com
Oh, gorgeous imagery and I love how you've used the dreams. And I have such a weakness for "it's just a casual thing...... or is it?" fic. :)

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