A/N: HELLO ALL! This is another request fic, but I am really liking it. After all, we always see those stories where PROWL is the one in heat. Well…what about if it's JAZZ? This story isn't going to go on for more than about 10 chapters, maybe less. It's a sticky fic, so you are warned. I got my inspiration for some of this stuff from various 'heat' stories, so if it seems like I'm copying, I'm sorry, and I'll try to fix it. You all know that I don't own Transformers. Ok, here we go!
"Heat? What do you mean I'm in heat?"
Ratchet tiredly answered the door that interconnected his quarters to the medbay, wondering who on Earth would be disturbing him at this time at night. If it was a medical emergency, then granted, but if not, who would dare and incur the medic's wrath?
What he didn't expect was Jazz, his TIC, trembling from helm to pedes with his interface panel open and lubricant trickling down his white thighs.
"R-ratch…Ah've been feelin' hot all day…n…n-now it's getting' real bad," Jazz said, his voice uncharacteristically wobbly as it took all his strength not to throw himself onto the ground and beg for a spike, a toy, fingers, anything that would get rid of this…it had started this morning, with a hot ache in his hips and groin, and was now throughout his whole body, particularly his interface systems and his spark.
Ratchet only had one word.
"Ratch…it's bad…r-right?" asked Jazz, nervously clutching his own upper arms while pressing his legs closer together to alleviate some of the ache throbbing in his valve.
With a low, growling sigh, Ratchet replied, "Jazz…you're in heat."
The saboteur tilted his helm to the side and asked incredulously, "Heat? Whaddaya mean Ah'm in Heat?"
"You are going to be interface crazy until you produce a sparkling or until the heat cycle wears out. You will most likely hop from berth to berth to satisfy your needs, eventually settling on the one who can settle your needs the most. Your Spark Energy Modulator (SEM) is off, so when you do find the mech you want to kindle with, if theirs if off too, then you will create a sparkling. Remember, you are in heat, so you can spark just by transfluid, but by the mechs having their SEM's on this cannot happen…so what I'm going to do is…mmmppff!" the medic was interrupted in his rant by a pair of desparate lips covering his and beginning to kiss the life out of him. He caught the smell of something erotic and sweet, and he immediately shut off his olfactory sensors. It wouldn't do to be enraptured by the heady smell of the lubricant. He was going to grant Jazz relief, nothing more.
Didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it.
Sweeping Jazz into his arms, but keeping their mouths connected, Ratchet walked them over to a medical berth. Placing the squirming, heated martini racer on the berth, he quickly got the restraining straps and secured Jazz's arms and legs to the berth. He looked up into Jazz's face at the sound of a long whine, and smirked.
Jazz's visor, which was usually a bright, cheerful azure colour, was now darkened to a seductive sapphire. His mouhplates were open as he panted, chassis heaving up and down while the dim lights of the medbay reflected off his shiny black and white plating. The lust from the heat had now completely taken over the sociable mech, and he whined again, bucking his hips up and down on the berth, his fluids staining the sheets beneath his gorgeous black aft.
Ratchet chuckled at the sight and whispered huskily, "Jazz, Jazz, only you could give me a processor ache and make me smile at the same time."
Jazz panted loudly, his only thought was on his valve. Empty, it was so empty!
He opened his mouth and babbled, not realising what he was saying, only that he was begging and pleading, his cooling fans working hard to cool him unsuccessfully. "Ratchet, Ratchet, please, Ah need ya in meh, need ya fillin' me fulla transfluid, Ah need ya spike, ya hand, ya glossa, something! C'mon mech, Ah need it, Ah'm empty, Ah need ta be full…oooohhhh, please! Call everyone, Ah need their fluid all over meh…uuhhhnnn…please!"
Ratchet's optics opened at the delirious, dirty talk from the pouty lipplates of the saboteur, and it was turning him on something fierce. The mech on the bed was not the Jazz they knew, it was a lust filled animal.
Realising that Jazz needed to be sated, he leant over the berth and plunged his glossa into the slicked up channel, trying to lick up as much of the warm, sweet lubricant as he could, listening to Jazz's keens as he was finally touched the way he wanted to be touched. The medic moaned into Jazz's valve as it clenched, slippery, around his glossa. He had never felt his glossa been so squeezed by a valve before and he sucked and nibbled at as many pleasure points as he could. Jazz needed release, and he needed it now.
Jazz keened louder still as Ratchet slipped two fingers into his valve, starting a fast pace that made him cry out. He felt so good, the friction in his valve appeasing the heat within as nodes were vigorously stroked and lapped against, sending pleasure shooting through his body in hot waves.
Ratchet kept going, stretching that pretty valve, adding another finger to hear Jazz's lust filled cries of ecstasy.
Jazz couldn't help it. He had been feeling too aroused all day and overloaded in bliss, his throbbing valve tightening against the digits and the glossa within him, releasing even more lubricants out of his valve with his climax. Ratchet lapped up as much as he could, revelling in having brought the first mech to be in heat for over 10 million years to his first overload (in heat).
Jazz began to purr, content for now, smiling down at the medic – who had his juices spread over his lips – before dropping off into recharge.
Thinking quickly, Ratchet injected a sedative into an energon line, hopefully giving Ratchet enough time to knock Jazz out so he could let Prime and Prowl know later that morning. It would not do for Jazz to go around the Ark, horny and obsessed, without someone knowing about it. That, and also to put out a notice to make sure every mech on the ARK had their SEM's on and up to date.
"What do you mean Jazz is in heat?" blurted Optimus Prime, plopping into his massive desk chair in surprise, staring at his CMO as if he had just grown and extra head.
"I mean, Prime, that his heat systems have somehow been activated, and he won't rest until he either sparks up or until his cycle winds down," said Ratchet.
"Yeah Prime. Jazz is going to be a horny little petro rabbit for a while, prepared to get any facing he can," replied the medic with a sly smirk at his leader's gobsmacked faceplates.
Prowl was looking like someone had smacked him in the face. He tried to regain his sense and sound professional and asked, "Do we know who his preferred…ah…mating buddies are?"
"Jazz hasn't been with anyone in a while, and that I know because of his medical check-ups, but in his state of arousal – which comes with being in heat – he will either go to the mechs who are his friends and confidants, or those that, if he sparks, will give the best attributes to his sparkling. I have a few general ideas, and I hope they are smart enough on how to deal with a mech in heat. Prowl, can you send around the message of the SEM's?" asked Ratchet, explaining all he knew. Optimus still looked shocked.
The Praxian mech nodded. But Ratchet saw a glint in the tacticians optics, one he wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Uhh…Hey Ratchet?" asked Wheeljack over the general comm. "You know how you asked me to check up on Jazz? Yeah…well…the thing is…he's gone from the medbay."
The three mechs looked at each other at the same time and cried out, "SLAG!"
A/N: Mwuhuhhahaha! That's right, horny Jazz is on the prowl…(lol!). I got a rough list of characters who Jazz is going to be fragged by, before he finally ends up with a certain favourite character of mine ^^ but if someone has a suggestion, I'll see if I can work it in. AND PLEASE REVIEW! I AM A GLUTTON FOR REVIEWS!