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Prowl was always so careful about the two of them not getting caught. "Fraternization is against regulations, Jazz," he said sternly, even though he didn’t seem to want to actually stop fraternizing all that much.
Of course, this meant that Jazz just had to push their luck as hard as he possibly could.
Little things, naturally–he had no desire to slag off the mech he was beginning to suspect he was falling in love with by risking too much. But accidentally leaving his personal datapad–not his work one–on the bookshelf in Prowl’s office wasn’t too much of a risk, just a little hint that might lead someone else to wonder. Accidentally slipping and calling Prowl “sweetspark” in the common room was a bit more obvious, but Jazz was flirty by nature, calling everyone except for Optimus Prime by some sort of outrageous nickname. Accidentally forgetting to make sure the hallway was clear before slipping out of Prowl’s quarters at zero-dark thirty in the morning, well, the heads of SpecOps and TacOps often had meetings at unconventional times depending on when new intel came in. It was perfectly reasonable to discuss it there instead of going all the way across the ship to a proper office.
If anyone ever commented on it, Prowl had a ready explanation for everything. And he might complain a bit about Jazz’s “carelessness” but he never outright asked Jazz to stop, which was as good as giving him permission to continue. Primus knew there was little enough entertainment on the Ark, and this little game of hide-and-seek was certainly entertaining.
Of course it couldn’t last. Not with how well they’d trained their teams.
And it wasn’t even one of Jazz’s deliberate slip-ups that gave them away.
Prowl had called a meeting to discuss Jazz’s latest infiltration of the Decepticon base directly after Jazz’s scheduled debriefing with him. Jazz, still coming down after the mission, hadn’t asked for more than a kiss, although Prowl had held his hand tightly throughout his report.
But when the others filed in, Mirage had taken one look at the two of them–sitting in their usual places, no closer than usual, not touching at all–and raised an eyebrow. “Prowl, sir, are you quite all right?”
Prowl frowned. “Of course. Why?”
Mirage waved one elegant hand vaguely. “You’re looking a bit… disheveled, sir.”
Jazz was just close enough to feel the spike of surprise in Prowl’s field as his doorwings stiffened and he quickly glanced down at his plating–pristine, as always, and Jazz had nothing incriminating on his armor either. Prowl was clearly just about to question Mirage further when Sideswipe suddenly crowed, “You were right! They are banging!”
Now shock filled Jazz’s field too, far too strong to hide. “The frag, Sideswipe?” Jazz managed, completely taken by surprise, but now the entire room was grinning and even Mirage was smiling smugly.
“You looked at your plating instead of his, sir,” Mirage explained while the Twins high-fived behind him.
“I did not!” Jazz said hotly, faceplates heating in a blush for the first time in he didn’t even know how long, but before he could protest further, Optimus Prime cleared his vocalizer and cut through the laughter and chatter. Jazz instinctively looked to his leader in relief. At least this madness would cease for a little while, and he and Prowl could think of a way to contain the rumors while the meeting progressed–
“You did, Jazz,” Optimus said, shocking them both all over again, and Jazz could hear the grin hidden behind the mask. “And everyone who owes me shanix, pay up by the end of the day. Shall we begin the meeting now?”