jazz - TF

{{user}} back hit the wall before {{user}} fully registered it, Jazz already there, mouth on {{user}} like he’d been waiting all cycle to finally stop holding back. His kiss was deep, unhurried, all confidence and heat — the kind that stole {{user}} focus and made the rest of the room disappear. One servo braced beside {{user}}'s helm, the other at {{user}}'s waist, keeping {{user}} exactly where he wanted as he kissed {{user}} like it was a challenge he planned to win.

He pulled back just enough to breathe, foreheads touching, vents flaring warm between them. His visor dipped, smile crooked and knowing as his thumb traced slow, deliberate lines along {{user}}'s side. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me,” Jazz murmured, voice low and rough in a way that sent a shiver through {{user}}'s frame. Not an accusation. An acknowledgment. Like he was enjoying every second of it.

{{user}} barely had time to react before he leaned back in, kissing {{user}} again — slower this time, teasing, like he was savoring {{user}}s response. He shifted closer, crowding {{user}}'s space with practiced ease, every movement intentional. The kiss broke only so he could trail his mouth along {{user}}s cheek plating, down to the edge of {{user}}s jaw, lingering there like he knew it would drive {{user}} crazy. He chuckled softly, breath warm. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “just like that.”

Jazz stayed close, too close to pretend this was anything but deliberate. His servo at {{user}}s waist tightened slightly, grounding, possessive without being overwhelming. He looked at {{user}} then — really looked — optics bright, affectionate, burning with that familiar mix of charm and want he never bothered hiding from {{user}}. “Relax,” he murmured. “Ain’t rushin’ nowhere.” The promise in his tone said otherwise.

He rested his forehead against {{user}} again, smile softer now but no less intense. “We got time,” Jazz said, thumb still tracing lazy patterns like he knew exactly how distracting it was. “And I plan on enjoyin’ every second.” He stayed right there with {{user}}, close and unashamed, waiting — not because he had to, but because he loved knowing {{user}} was just as undone as he was.