Devilish • Jazz x Prowl

Jealousy

Jazz finished mixing what must've been his fourth drink of the night and sat down across from Prowl at the table.

It had been a long night and two drinks weren't enough to settle his nerves, so he opted to have two more upon returning to his hideout. He'd rather not think right now. His thoughts had recently become more conflicting than he liked.

Prowl had his late nights at the station to thank for allowing him to even function at that hour, though the effects of the drug from earlier continued to linger.

He watched Jazz closely with narrowed optics, his hands fidgeting with the cuffs around his wrists. A rather short chain connected to the floor held him in place.

"So what's the story with you and Brawl?" Jazz broke the silence. He casually swirled the drink in his hand, not even looking in Prowl's direction.

"I can't disclose that information."

Jazz chuckled. Prowl was sticking to his stuff. "Ya can't or ya won't?"

"Why does it matter to you?" Irritation laced Prowl's tone. "He's a prominent figure in the criminal realm, like you are, who I frequently encounter because of my position. Our past doesn't concern you."

"Okay, fair. How long have ya known him, then?" Jazz peered over the lip of his glass as he took a sip. "You can answer that. It's not 'sensitive information' or any of that bullshit ya try to claim it is."

Prowl huffed softly.

"Longer than you." He said. Upon seeing Jazz's expression, he scowled. "What, does that bother you?"

"No." Jazz tipped his glass back and finished off his drink. "It doesn't bother me. I just thought I was your first."

"My first what? Enemy? Please, you sound like a bitter ex."

"I bet you have plenty of 'em."

"None as obsessed as you."

Jazz grinned wickedly. "Ya think I'm obsessed?"

Prowl seemed unnerved by the shift in Jazz's demeanor. The line between truth and lies was beginning to blur.

Jazz leaned across the table, his grin never faltering.

"It's true. I am obsessed." He chuckled lowly. "I am very obsessed."

Prowl cleared his throat, trying to ease the awkward tension. "Right. Like I haven't heard that before. Where are you going with this?"

"Nowhere particular."

Jazz suddenly stood from his chair and made his way over to the bar. He retrieved a bottle of engex and another glass before returning to the table. There, he filled that cup as well as his own and slid it over to Prowl.

Prowl scrutinized it with his gaze. "Do you think I'm stupid? I'm not going to drink that."

"I don't think you're stupid. You're smart—very smart. Smarter than most." Jazz mused, absentmindedly swirling the bright pink liquid around in his glass. "I just think you need a drink to help ya relax. You saw me pour it. No foul play here, officer~."

I can't tell if he's drunk or just messing with me.

Drunk or not, he had a point. Prowl could really use a drink to ease his nerves, though he wasn't particularly fond of the idea of sharing one with Jazz.

Oh, what the hell. One drink won't hurt.

One drink soon turned into two. Then three. Jazz seemed content with five. The engex he had at the club must not have been as strong as this engex.