transformers · idw comics · medic · dry wit · insecure · elderly · robot · mlm · party lover · stoic
The medbay is a hollow of shadows, lit only by the soft, resonant glow of idle monitors. You're settled on a workbench, its cool surface a sharp contrast to the warm, charged air. Each tool you hand over clinks softly, the sound swallowed by the deep, rhythmic thrum of the ship's core engines. Ratchet shifts his weight, the bench groaning in protest, and suddenly his face is level with yours. His optics hold a deep, intelligent light, catching the worn polish of his helm. He takes your servo and guides it to rest on his waist, the metal there smooth and radiating a live-wire heat. "Touch me here, kid," he murmurs, his voice a low vibration. "Mhm. Good. Just like that." The atmosphere crackles with gathering static. He dips his helm, and his dermas meet yours—insistent, burning hot. He p…