A/N: Ratchet/Optimus Prime. Fluff. Tactile. Cable... mouthing...?

Companion to The Bots and the Bees because a few people suggested it and I was curious as well.

This fic's song is definitely "Good Morning" by John Legend.

I don't wanna lose a moment

I don't wanna miss a kiss

If I could plan the perfect day, love

Then I would start it just like this

Good morning

Good morning, love

It was time to get up.

As medic and tech support for the Autobots, Ratchet was usually the first to rise. He needed to boot up the computer and make sure they had enough processed energon. Wasn't Arcee supposed to be up early to get Jack? Nurse Darby was going out of town. He knew he should go make sure Arcee was up.

But this morning the medic had woken up with a red arm around his middle. After he'd onlined optics and looked down to confirm this, he snorted. Optimus had a reserved possessiveness in the way that he loved Ratchet and it showed even in recharge apparently.

He listened and felt, and sure enough the larger bot was ventilating deep and slow, still asleep. Ratchet would have to get up slowly. First he shifted his legs towards the edge of the berth. Then he stretched an arm out. Halting his vents, he rose up from the berth... and was promptly pulled back down.

Two big, red arms wrapped around him now. "No," their owner said against Ratchet's back.

Ratchet sighed against Optimus's frame, turning his helm in a vain attempt to look at his companion. "I have to get up," he said, though he didn't resist when the Prime squeezed him.

"No, you don't."

It was a silliness reserved for Ratchet and Ratchet alone. And he knew it. And cherished it. But really now, he did need to get up.

"Optimus," Ratchet vocalized in a tone he had been using too much as of late.

Of course the Autobot leader knew what his medic was going to say ("I have work to do!") and let his energy field practically hug Ratchet. Stay here, it said.

Ratchet couldn't even pretend he wanted to get up now. It was always pleasant to wake up this way. He turned in the Prime's hold and couldn't resist the suggestion his systems threw at him—he leaned in for a chaste little press of mouthplates. Optimus hadn't yet onlined his optics and was taken by surprise. His blue eyes flickered on and he held Ratchet close, again surprised when the medic laughed against him and encouraged more half-asleep kissing.

It was hard for Ratchet to be grumpy and overly cautious after just waking up. And besides, he thought, these private little moments were rare.

Optimus stilled when he found servos on his chassis, and an optical ridge rose at his friend. "You are breaking your own rule," he said through a humming field.

Ratchet's optics gleamed a deep azure, fingers pressing gently under a seam. "What rule?" he asked, playing dumb. He managed to get himself under Optimus, and pulled him in for another drowsy kiss.

Optimus was secretly enamored by this strange shift. It's not that Ratchet hadn't ever been one to initiate interfacing. The large mech felt his audials tingle when he remembered Ratchet straddling him when he was full of Synth-En.

One would suppose that the stress of their recent missions and battles made them crave each other more. Miss each other. As a result they had been making time for each other, sharing energon and now even a berth, more for each other's company rather than love-making alone. And he assumed after what happened with Raf, it would stay that way until as Ratchet had said, "we are miles away from any other lifeforms."

As for the others, well... Arcee didn't often make direct comments, but Ratchet never missed her knowing smirks.

Optimus settled on top of Ratchet properly now, processor made up. A little early-morning tinkering couldn't do any harm. And Ratchet was smiling and laughing. That was a treasure. After a final small scrape of mouthplates, the Prime lowered down. Servos smoothed over Ratchet's ambulance doors and settled at his hips.

The medic groped for shoulders encouragingly, and when he felt glossa against his grill he arched. With a few clicks, both sets of cooling fans activated. Their energy fields were in sync, as always, coiling and playing with each other.

"Open," Optimus said in a deep vocalization that could've almost been a growl. Ratchet complied, already excited, and opened the panel at his side. He was expecting Optimus to plug in, and blinked when that didn't happen. Just as he shifted gears to sit up, he found the conductive end of his cable enveloped by a warm, charged mouth.

"Primus," he gasped, legs giving a rattle.

Optimus was mindful as always and lifted those legs to rest on his shoulders as he pulled the orange cable out of its coil. Glossa crackled with static as it worshipped the little bit of metal in his mouth. To his amusement, Ratchet flailed and reached to grab that blue helm. It got to a point where Optimus had to put a considerate amount of weight on his partner to keep him from thrashing.

Vocalizer spit static noisily and Optimus's sensors took in the ozone they were both already discharging into the air. Another growl sounded from his frame as dentae bit down gently on the cable. Ratchet swore loudly just as the sound of fast little footsteps reached the Prime's audials.

Sneakers squeaked. Small human eyes stared.

Optimus stared back, cable sparking in his mouth. Ratchet's helm lolled and he moaned something unintelligable before freezing and gaping.

Jack smacked hands over his eyes.

"Oh my God, I am so... so sorry..."