#transformers punch

There was a knock on the door.

Jazz ran towards it.

Perhaps Punch had changed his mind after all!

"I apologise for the intrusion, but could I bother you for a cube?"

Without a visor, Jazz could barely see his own servos, but he recognised the warm tones of Alpha Trion's wise voice.

The archivist claimed he'd gotten lost on his way home from the library, that he only needed some energon then he'd be on his way.

Punch would be pissed if he found out, which he would since the old mech always did (the mech was still ranting about Jazz giving his step-siblings' left over scraps to the glitch mice).

But Jazz didn't care. Alpha Trion needed help. And Carrier had always said that if you can help, then there is no reason why you shouldn't.

Wiping the coolant from his optics, Jazz guided Alpha Trion to the kitchen, settling him down at the broken side table before finding the mech a cube.

It didn't matter that Jazz was half blind, he'd know his way around the kitchen with his optics closed.

Careful not to spill any, Jazz handed the old mech a cube.

"Thank you." Alpha Trion sighed after taking a long sip. "What can I do to show my thanks?"

"Don't worry about it!" Jazz shrugged, "It's just a cube."

"It's an act of kindness. One you acted open even out of fear of punishment."

Jazz stumbled back.

Alpha Trion was a mech known for his oddities, Jazz had heard Punch complain many a time that the old archivist was a kook. But there was no way that Alpha Trion's words were just a quirk of character. Somehow the other mech knew.

"Primus is right when he says that kindness is its own reward." Alpha Trion continued as though Jazz wasn't having a processor crash in front of him. "But when I can, I like to give out some physical rewards too."

Maybe the old mech was a kook after all as he wasn't making any sense. But before Jazz could ask what the mech was rambling about, he caught the blurred movement of Alpha Trion's staff as it was pointed towards his head.

Jazz ducked, but instead of a blunt blow, his whole frame tingled, like it had when he was a sparkling after his Carrier had given him an oil bath.

Jazz looked down but to him, his armour still looked like a grey blob.

"Here, this should help." Jazz could hear the smile in Alpha Trion's voice as the mech placed something smooth and cool into his servo.

Feeling the familiar curve of a visor, Jazz lifted the gift up to his optics. Unlike the ones Punch bought up, this one didn't scrape against his skin, instead it slotted easily into place, as though it had been designed only for him.

Jazz couldn't hold back as gasp as he caught his now clear reflection on the kitchen pans.

For once, his black and white finish was clean of dirt, the chipped corners of paint whole again with an optic catching set of blue and red racing stripes added to the curve of his chassis.

A new coat of paint couldn't hide all the scrapes and scars but for the first time in a long time, Jazz felt beautiful. That he was a being capable of beauty. And thanks to his shiny new visor, he had the power to see that for himself.

And even though he couldn't see it, inside Jazz could feel his t-cog unlock, along side the feeling he freedom he hadn't realised had also been locked away.

Alpha Trion warned him that it would only last until midnight. But Jazz didn't care. Midnight would give him more than enough for him to sing at least one song.

And Jazz had gotten his wish, his spark soaring as he saw how the crowd brightened because of song, their smiles reflected the light of his spark that he finally had the chance to share.

However, he hadn't expected for one mech to see more of that light than others, bright blue optics meeting Jazz's own even under the visor, as though the mech could see straight through to Jazz's spark.

And with his new found sight, Jazz could see the light emanated from this mech too. He saw that light throughout at night, in the care pouring out his optics as Jazz caught the sparkling, the spark of interest as he optics traced the art etched into the outside columns and how they burned with promise when he said he would make sure the artists were properly compensated.

Jazz found he actually believed those words.

Making him realise that he'd never really believed Punch's.

Of course the mech wasn't too bad on the optics either, the classic elegance of that black and white finish highlighting the contrast of that slim waist and large bumper.

Jazz couldn't believe that a mech as beautiful as the one stood before him would even look his way, let alone stand by his side with waiting arms.

It was too good to be true. Like a dream.

Jazz would've thought it would have been too, if not for what happened the next morning.

Jazz had to fight from reaching up to cover his audial horns as he opened the door to his step-siblings berthroom to the sounds of their screeches. Over their cries, he could just about make out the announcement over the radio that Prince Prowl had apparently met the mech of his dreams at the ball, intending on searching all of Praxus to find them.

Jazz didn't pay much attention to the announcement at first, trying to balance his step-family's breakfast as they flailed in excitement around him. That was until his audials tuned into the information that this mystery mech had lost a silver-blue glass visor.

The tray in Jazz's servos smashed to the floor.

He had lost a silver-blue visor, the glass that had fitted perfectly just moments earlier, slipping out of his helmet as he had ran down the palace step. He hadn't the chance to catch it, the need to return to Stanix before his t-cog locked up greater. He made it to the town square before it locked again, and his finish faded away.

Jazz presumed the visor had similarly dissipated. Evidently it had not.

Jazz's spark was in a spin. The mech he had spent the night with had been the Prince!? Jazz had known the mech must've come from wealth but he never would've guessed a Prince would want to spend his precious time talking to a commoner? Let alone want to conjunx one?!

Until that moment, Jazz hadn't given much thought to Praxus' Prince. Punch wasn't a fan of him, often ranting about how the new laws the Prince enforced would require him to actually pay his taxes instead of hiding it in offshore accounts. Jazz could appreciate that the Prince was actually trying to do his job by helping the people of Praxus. Plus anyone who could piss Punch off was alright n Jazz's book. But Jazz hadn't given it any deeper thought. Too preoccupied with his own problems to think about a Prince.

But now he knew the passion of Prowl's spark as the mech promised to right the wrongs of the past, not just out of duty, but out of love for his people. Love that he wanted to share with Jazz.

After Jazz finished cleaning up the shattered remains of his step-siblings breakfast, he raced through the rest of his chores, running up the steps to his attic room as soon as he was done.

Jazz wouldn't shine with whatever magic Alpha Trion had bestowed upon him, but if the Prince was on his way to Stanix, Jazz could at least make himself presentable.

But just as Jazz started to scrub the stains from his chassis, he heard the unfortunately familiar storm of steps stomping up his stairs.