How long had they been on this planet now? How long since he and Optimus Prime had had time to even share a few cubes of energon and reminisce about Cybertron and old friends long since lost? He usually had plenty of work to do fixing everyone up after missions, and knew his ignored glances weren't to be taken personally. He knew the Prime was stressed. They all were.

Energy crackled between them and Ratchet felt a tire or two spin. Primus, those servos were strong.

Minutes earlier, Ratchet had powered down the bridge, and felt optics on him even before he turned around. Optimus was sporting various scratches and scuffs, as usual after a battle, but his right leg looked badly in need of some welding. Ratchet had shifted in the silence and motioned vaguely towards the medical berth. "Let me have a look."

Optimus' gaze had stayed steady and he remained still for only a moment longer before almost rushing at his medic. The Prime was silent and strong, and the definitely the type of mech with the decency to grab Ratchet and pin him to the console.

How long indeed. Neither hesitated to dig fingers into chassis, push along seams. Optimus' energy field was very capable, stronger than Ratchet remembered and the medic scrambled embarrassingly against his leader in an attempt to maintain standing in the rush. He almost couldn't return the energy, legs already shaking underneath him, clinging as Optimus gripped and grinded into him.

Ratchet knew this wouldn't last long even without actually using their interface cables. He could barely form words anymore and fraaaaag, that was his antenna, how had Prime reached back there so quickly? Ratchet's optics spun and closed, and he didn't even realize he was denting the other Autobot's armor. He could hear his HUD beeping within, warning of overheating.

It was no use now. "Opti—mus," Ratchet warned.

"I know." It was low, gravely, loaded with overcharge. Optimus flared his field hard against his medic, prodding his fingers into the space where legs met waist.

Ratchet's vents locked up as his overload hit him, helm tilting back and legs giving out. Optimus pushed twice more before he was dragged in, system redlining, vocalizer stuck in a grind of gears. He maintained hold on his physician, both bots ventilating loud and exhausted. Ratchet would've noticed the exceptional smile on his partner's mouthplate if he wasn't gaping in horror over Prime's shoulder.

"Are you guys okay?!"

Optimus pivoted his upper body quickly, optics wide and mouth going slack at the sight of Rafael, who was looking up at them, arms full of toy cars. Prime was still holding onto Ratchet, who looked like the spark extractor had just been used on him.

Close mouthplate, reboot vocalizer.

"Raf," Optimus said calmly, checking his medic to find frozen optics. The Prime had to hold in a ventilation at the sight and shook his helm briefly before guiding (more like dragging) Ratchet to sit him down at the medical berth. Even sitting, the orange and white Autobot remained stupefied and Optimus again held something back as he put a servo on shoulder in an attempt to reassure him.

"We are fine," he said to Raf, fans desperately trying to kick away the ozone. "It's nothing our medic cannot handle." He paused, and to be polite, knelt on one knee for the human. "Why are you here alone?"

Audials picked up the sound of Ratchet (hopefully) coming out of shock behind him, but he kept gentle optics on Rafael.

"Bumblebee picked me up really early so he could help me study," Raf explained, adjusting his glasses and trying to look around Prime's pede at Ratchet. "When you called everyone out for scouting, he said I could just keep working in his room." He suddenly looked very guilty, fearing he'd broken an Autobot rule.

Optimus blinked and stood up slowly. "That is alright, Rafael. If I had known you were here, I would have gladly let you study out here. Please never hesitate to ask for anything."

Raf brightened thankfully. "I'll get my things. They'll be back soon, right?" Optimus answered yes and watched the little human run back towards the main corridor. It took many fast little steps for him to be out of earshot, and the bot finally turned back to look at his medic.

"Ratchet," Optimus started, glossa twitching in his mouth. He wanted to say something to comfort his friend, to take the pale coloring from his plating off. But as he looked at him, face frozen like that, clearly shorted out by embarrassment...

Optimus couldn't keep it in anymore and let out a loud laugh. Ratchet kind of squawked, there wasn't a better way to describe it, and flailed his servos.

"Optimus! This is not funny!" he protested, vocals entering a hilariously distressed high pitch. Hearing his Prime laugh was like finding Iaconian high grade energon, something to be cherished, but frag it, no! A human had just seen them with their servos all over each other! Ratchet wanted to transform into a toaster and throw himself into a tub!

Optimus put a hand on his shoulder again. "There is no need for shame, old friend," he offered, though smiled openly at the glare he was getting. "Rest and refuel. My leg can wait."

Ratchet snorted and forced himself up off the berth, swatting Prime's hands away when he tried to keep him from wobbling. "You are not allowed to touch me until we are miles away from any other lifeforms," he informed seriously.

"Noted. I would enjoy interfacing with you in the arctic."

Ratchet squawked again and gave a dirty look when he was laughed at.