Cybertron, Distant Past
"Do you ever wish you could fly, truly fly, more than those heel jets let you?" Starscream asked, laid out over top of the other, smaller mech, wings flared in sated pleasure.
Jazz looked up at him with clear optics, the visor off for once, because 'Scream didn't like it during 'facing. "Sometimes, I think of how it would feel," Jazz admitted. "Up, soaring, free, press of the atmosphere on my frame from different vectors than down here. Bet it sounds like the cleanest music I can imagine."
Starscream chuckled at him. "You and your music."
"You and flying," Jazz said, not wholly teasing. "Your flight makes you part of who you are; music makes me part of who I am."
"But you can imagine being part of what I am too?" Starscream pressed, as if looking for something from Jazz, something that transcended their classes.
Jazz smiled, lazy and slow, hands coming up to caress the jet's vent intakes. "'Screamer, I don't have to imagine it when you treat me the way you do. I fly every time you take me with you."
That answer, that sheer pleasure in the smaller mech's voice made something ease in Starscream, though the look of thoughtful craftiness in the amber optics of the tri-jet made Jazz wonder just what was in his lover's processors, until Starscream's fields rolled over him intently.
Prime and Prowl continued discussing the latest stratagem on just how they were going to tackle the fact that Megatron had brought Starscream into line so effectively. As much as every single Autobot, and quite a few Decepticons, joked about how ineffective Starscream was when he was plotting and being a general nuisance, he was scarily potent under Megatron's discipline. Granted, eventually it would chafe on the Seeker leader, but he was the Air Commander, and no one in the back-stabbing 'Con army had ever managed to take that from him in all the long vorns of war.
"What we need is someone who can process like a Seeker, get into their way of looking at the world, and show us a way to break their loyalty to Megatron in general," Prime said.
Jazz paid a little more attention because his leader, his friend, was sounding desperate, which was understandable, given how badly they'd been beaten away from that small town's power station. Both twins were still under Ratchet's care, having had to come to Prime's own rescue when two trines had targeted the Leader.
"I don't believe that's possible," Prowl said dismissively. "Their class is wired completely different than any of us, and Silverbolt's group is as much at a loss as we are."
Cybertron, Distant Past
Jazz sat out on the top deck of one of the Towers, one that he would never have come to in his work or his social life, but Starscream had had a meeting here, and told Jazz to come join him after. The energon had been good, and the music was a different style than Jazz normally listened to, but stirring. A few other Seekers had been there, and as usual, they looked at Starscream strangely for being obvious about a possessive streak toward a mere grounded mech.
Now, out here, he began to wonder if maybe they weren't as right as the ones of Jazz's own class, who called him crazy for being a Seeker's partner. He was watching as Starscream and another Seeker, one introduced as Rainwind, flew in tandem, executing some elaborate Seeker pattern meant to honor a fallen flier.
//Face it, Jazz, you two might mesh in the berth, and you both love fancy upgrades, but … where's the common ground?// he thought to himself.
::JAZZ!!!:: The demanding, shrill comm call cut across his melancholy, flavored so strongly by past grief, as well as the need Starscream expressed for Jazz's company.
::Still watching, 'Screamer,:: he sent with a wave of reassurance.
::FEEL!:: And with that as his sole warning to Jazz, Starscream pushed all the sensor data, all his impression, the sheer exhilaration of flight and what it was to him across the link they'd forged.
The grounded mech had to cling to the rail of the observation deck, gasping softly as all that primal sensation flooded him, speed and thrust and dizzyingly complex calculations to move just exactly how was needed. Under it all was a sense of longing and power mingled into the sheer freedom of motion that could never be met under gravity's full sway.
::Starscream...:: Jazz moaned, as the feelings ripped open every single ache Jazz had never known he had, from a need to express himself fully to the one that longed to be more than just a civil servant.
Then Starscream was in front of him, wings flaring with the exercise as Rainwind flew away, leaving the pair alone on the empty observation deck. Neither one knew who moved first, but after, when they were alone in Starscream's quarters, it hardly mattered.
Jazz made a noise in his vocalizer. "Problem is, Prowler, no one but one can," he said, pulled away from long distant memories. "Something about what Megs offers hits at everything they are, and we're clueless." With all Starscream offered, shared, gave to him then, Jazz had never been able to fall completely into the role of a Seeker, not in his spark where he could understand it.
Jazz would never understand, because he had always thought the freedom mattered more.
He never would have guessed it was the power, not until time proved that at the end of a set of null-rays one too many times.