Devilish • Jazz x Prowl

Eye Candy

Dark spots swam before Prowl's optics. He had no control of himself as he was jostled around, his head lolling off to the side. The stench of e-cigs and alcohol caused the throb in his head to worsen. He grimaced, squeezing his optics shut before forcing them back open in an attempt to clear his vision.

Fuck... they drugged me again.

Somewhere to his right, he could hear voices, but they were too faded to make out. He heard music, the constant pounding rhythm sending vibrations through his chest.

Where the hell am I...?

Suddenly there were hands on his shoulders, forcing him to his pedes. Another hand grabbed his arm and yanked him hard so that he staggered forward. He nearly fell several times, but two supports on either side kept him upright as he walked.

The music got louder, the forceful bass seeming to rattle his very spark chamber with each note. Various colors melted together before his optics, creating a sort of kaleidoscope effect with the dark spots already swimming in his vision.

He had to be in some sort of club, but not knowing what kind concerned him. Jazz liked to hang around and party. That didn't mean he went to those clubs, right?

Primus, he hoped not. That would be bad news for him.

Prowl's vision seemed to be improving, albeit slowly, while his headache only worsened. It felt like waking up in the early morning hours after getting blackout drunk the night before with a massive, throbbing headache that only spending time curled up in the dark could relieve.

A pair of hands steered him in another direction. Now that his vision wasn't so blurry, he could make out booths and tables with bots sitting and playing cards. There was gambling, drug dealing, and just about everything else illegal.

Which explained why those he walked past gave him dirty looks. He was a cop in a fucking casino... club.. thing.

Eventually he was stopped and pushed into a booth, where he quickly grabbed the edge of the table and attempted to collect himself. Someone scooted up beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Prowler! Glad you could make it!" Jazz's painfully unique voice cut through the noise. He turned Prowl by the shoulder and raised a brow. "Hell, you're even prettier when you're high, hah!"

Prowl grimaced at the sudden ringing in his audio receptors and dialed down their sensitivity, hoping that would help ease the stress on his processor.

Ugh...

"Actually, I'm not sure if I like him this quiet. Here, gimme that—"

Prowl felt a pinch in his arm. Almost instantly, the fog in his mind lifted and his vision cleared completely. He blinked a few times, still reeling from the drug's effects.

"Ah, there he is. I bet ya feel a lot better now, huh?"

"Aside from the throbbing headache... yes." Prowl grumbled.

Jazz laughed. "Sorry! Jus' a side effect."

Under the somewhat dim casino lighting, Jazz's visor cast a soft glow across the rest of his frame—including that signature smirk that Prowl had come to hate. Whenever a colored beam of light illuminated the room, somehow perfectly highlighting the curve of Jazz's frame, Prowl found himself entranced for moment or two before he quickly snapped out of it.

Must also be an effect of the drug.

"What are we doing here, Jazz?" Prowl asked, now scowling.

"What's it look like? Havin' fun, obviously." Jazz replied with a grin. "I wanted to show ya off a bit before I meet with someone to do business. Everyone wants to know how I managed to get a cop from Iacon wrapped around my finger~"