"Ya know, Clank," Ratchet spoke, voice quiet from exhaustion, "I think I hate our friends."

The small robot was kneeling on the table on the opposite side of the apartment, green eyes dimmed slightly, "You do not," He responded with almost no energy as he grasped another paper plate and dropped it, rather unceremoniously, into a waste collection unit sitting on the chair next to him.

He received a tired glare in response, before Ratchet sighed, dumping the debris he'd been cradling into a second waste bin, "Maybe, but no more parties- geez, what time is it anyways?"

"It is precisely 3:29:40, standard planetary time," Clank blinked as the time changed, then decided against repeating the constantly shifting numbers, "But I agree. It is a good thing we canceled all plans for tomo-" He stopped, thought for a millisecond, then corrected his statement, "-today, otherwise we would simply be sleeping through everything," He followed up the statement with a typical Clank chuckle.

Ratchet snorted in agreement, dropping the last armful of garbage into the bin, then pulled out the bag and tied the open end into as tight a knot as he could get it, accounting for his exhaustion. Across the room, Clank repeated his actions, though his bag was slightly smaller. The two then proceeded to drag their respective rubbish bags to the chute that lead to the dumpster outside.

"Anything else?" A yawn followed the statement as Ratchet stretched, trying not to look as tired as he felt and failing miserably. Then again, acting was never the Lombax's strong point.

Clank knew this as well, which is why he cut himself off before he could announce the list of chores that still needed to be done, "...there is nothing remaining that needs to be done immediately," He smiled, taking his roommate's hand and leading him towards the bedroom on the opposite side of the apartment. He paused only when they were in front of the door, "I assume you can escort yourself to bed from here?"

"Heh, don't you worry, pal," Even tired, Ratchet's smile was warm; fond. Clank nodded, already climbing onto the couch. With one last glance at his friend as Ratchet half-way closed the door behind him, Clank snuggled into the cushions and allowed himself to drift into hibernation mode.

4:36

Ratchet watched the numbers, wishing the subtle glow would lull him to sleep. He didn't know why he wasn't asleep; it certainly wasn't from lack of fatigue. Nope, he had plenty of that. But whenever he closed his eyes, his mind refused to rest, and eventually he'd just stopped trying, instead alternating between staring at the shadows of moonlight dancing across the ceiling and watching the bright red numbers on the clock parallel to the bed slowly change.

Groaning, Ratchet switched his view from the clock to the ceiling, watching the shadows made by the moonlight filtering through the window pass over the smooth white metal. It was soothing, certainly... but still no sleep. Almost absently, Ratchet turned again to look back at the clock.

4:37

"Screw this," The Lombax muttered, pushing the covers back and hopping out of bed.

Almost immediately, Ratchet gasped, stumbling a bit as exhaustion clouding his vision. Even so, he moved forward, nearly tripping multiple times in his quest before reaching the door. He gently pried the doorway open, eyes scanning over the central hub of the apartment until they rested upon the form of his best friend, metal appendages and head tucked into his body.

A smile adorned the Lombax's face as he stood there, watching his friend's peaceful, soundless slumber. Cautiously, he maneuvered between the couch and the coffee table, settling himself on the cushion next to Clank and turned silently until he was lying on stomach, facing Clank. Giving his friend one last fond look, he closed his eyes, snuggling into the cushion below him...

"Ratchet?"

Tiredly, he looked up, locking eyes with Clank. A soft smile formed as he took his friend in, "Hey, pal. Did I wake you?"

"Not really," Clank replied, looking puzzled, "Why are you still awake?"

"Dunno," Ratchet answered truthfully, rubbing at his eyes, "I thought moving out here might help me fall asleep."

Clank nodded, breaking his stare at Ratchet as he faced forward, tucking himself back into his body. Next to him, Ratchet buried his face into the cushion below him and closed his eyes. They remained in this position for some time before Clank broke the silence.

"Are you still awake, Ratchet?"

There was a pause, "...yeah."

Both friends broke the pretense of sleeping, moving to look at each other comfortably. Even with Clank's face still, Ratchet could tell he was silently scanning the Lombax's face, taking note of the scars under his fur and the bags under his eyes. Finally, he gave Ratchet a soft smile, moving his hand to lie upon the Lombax's.

"If you cannot sleep," He spoke quietly, squeezing Ratchet's hand, "then I will stay awake with you."

And so he did. The two simply lied there, Clank's hand never moving from Ratchet's, and talked like they couldn't in front of their friends. Every joke, no matter how silly, received a silent chuckle from both parties. Every comment was mundane, avoiding topics neither felt comfortable with. Ratchet's naturally loud voice was lowered from exhaustion, and Clank kept his own tone low to match his friend's.

"If you wish," Clank's voice resonated softly after a while, "We could watch a movie. That may help relax you enough to sleep."

Arms crossed under his chin, Ratchet tilted his head to give Clank a dubious look, "Great idea," he mumbled sarcastically, "What do you wanna watch? Secret Agent Clank, perhaps?"

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of the Precursor Trilogy," Clank's grin turned smug, in a subtle movement, "Your favorite movies, correct?"

A sincere laugh escaped the Lombax, "You know me too well, tin can," A pause, "I didn't think you liked those movies, though."

"I have grown a certain..." Clank stopped for a moment, struggling to find the right word, "...fondness," he eventually settled, "for them. The main character reminds me quite a bit of you."

He received an amused snort in response, "Yeah, 'cept I'm not nearly that angsty."

"No, you are not," Clank agreed, almost unconsciously, as cold metal fingers stroked gently over Ratchet's ungloved, furry ones. Ratchet blinked, suddenly aware of how close his friend was: sitting almost directly in front of him, head tilted to watch his hand caress Ratchet's own. Something creeped into his chest; it was awkward, but almost comfortable, and it compelled Ratchet to carefully inch a little closer to Clank, until Clank looked up to see Ratchet's eyes hovering in front of his own. The two simply stared at each other for a few moments, until Ratchet broke down and brushed his lips against Clank's.

Ironically enough, it could very well have been Ratchet's insomnia that kept him from panicking at that moment. He was simply too exhausted for the shock to reach his brain, but apparently not exhausted enough to ignore the peculiar coldness of Clank's face, or the way Clank stopped petting his hand, instead moving to carefully entwine their fingers. They stayed like this for a few moments, neither daring to move back or act further.

Eventually, Ratchet carefully broke the contact, inching backwards so he could take in Clank's face. His own expression probably mirrored Clank's at that moment; confused, wide-eyed, with no emotion other than that. A peculiar silence buzzed in his ears as neither spoke, their previously insurmountable amounts of courage failing them.

A yawn formed in the back of Ratchet's throat, but no matter how hard he tried to hold it back, it managed to escape, breaking the tense silence. Clank's expression morphed into a fond one as he detangled his fingers from Ratchet's and instead grasped his hand gently.

"Sleep, Ratchet," The robot commanded firmly. For a moment, Ratchet only stared at Clank, before the overwhelming exhaustion forced him to give in, once again resting his head on the soft cushion of the couch and squirming slightly to make himself comfortable. This time, sleep had no trouble claiming the young Lombax, hand still stuck in the grip of one smiling robot.

"Ratchet... Ratchet..."

"Hmm?" The Lombax cast a glance upward at his companion. It didn't matter that it was far past four o'clock in the afternoon, or that he'd slept until past noon, he was still as tired as he had been the previous night. Clank's expression was exasperated, and perhaps a touch disapproving, but it was beyond Ratchet's capabilities at the moment to care.

"I said," Clank sounded only mildly irked, "that you need to decide upon your order now, before our waiter gets back."

Right. Who's idea had it been to go out for dinner? Ratchet couldn't remember, but he decided to blame Clank. The little robot enjoyed going out far more than Ratchet did, even if he couldn't eat.

"Oh. I'll have..." Ratchet paused, trying to remember what foods came with which order number, "...a number twelve," Clank nodded, eyes not leaving Ratchet even as the Lombax once again rested his head upon the table. He was facing Clank, watching as the small robot once again traced his fingers carefully, and grinning softly, despite their location. Neither dared to break the peaceful silence.

Neither of them had to. A booming voice calling their names caused Clank to jump back, gripping the hand that had previously been on top of Ratchet's with the other, and Ratchet's head suddenly began pounding; a warm-up for the headache that was sure to come. In mere moments, a familiar, if not unwelcome, green mask joined them at their table, grinning largely.

"Hello, faithful sidekicks!" Qwark greeted, "I gotta say, that was some shindig last night!"

"So it was," Ratchet agreed flatly, not lifting his head, "And we wanna thank you and all our wonderful friends for staying after and helping us clean up. We definitely were not up in the unholy hours of the morning picking up all the trash you guys left behind."

Unable to keep silent, Clank added, "Not to mention the chores that still need to be done."

The reminder made Ratchet groan. Qwark, however, seemed not to pick up on the duo's pessimism and responded, in an all too positive tone, "I'll pass along the message, compadres!" Upon noticing the near full glass sitting next to Ratchet, Qwark stood up, "I'll be right back. Just gotta get something to wet the old whistle," He used both hands to gesture to his throat.

Ratchet sighed in relief, even though he knew Qwark's departure was a temporary reprieve. The hand that had once laid on his own failed to return, though, and Ratchet felt a touch of disappointment; yet another reason to hate Qwark. And then something brushed against his ear.

Instinct overtook the Lombax and he flinched away from the contact. Sitting next to him, Clank flinched back as well, startled by Ratchet's reaction. In an instant he was sitting straight again, stuttering nervously, "I- um- sorry, Ratchet," Clank eventually mumbled, not meeting the Lombax's eyes.

"It's cool, it's fine," The reassurance seemed not to get through to Clank, who wore an expression somewhere between embarrassed and depressed. Ratchet's heart swelled at the sight, and he added, "You can touch them, if you want," He tried to grin, but it came out lopsided, "They're just sensitive, is all."

Clank nodded, and soon the light pressure of the robot's metal hand was upon his ear again. This time, Ratchet managed not to pull away from his friend's cold fingers, even if he could not keep his ears from stiffening at the contact. But Clank was gentle, cautiously combing through the fur of the large appendages, and soon Ratchet's head returned to lying on the table, eyes closed as he let out affectionate purrs.

When Qwark returned, two sodas in hand, he paused at the sight that awaited him. Before either of the duo noticed him, Qwark announced his presence by blurting out, "Uh... what are you doing?"

Ratchet's eyes fluttered open, the Lombax himself too relaxed to move in surprise. Clank paused momentarily, then continued his movements as he told Qwark, "I am petting Ratchet," The blunt statement earned him an annoyed glance from Ratchet that, to the Lombax's credit, lasted a whole second.

Qwark blinked, "Oh! I... see," He set his drinks down, watching the two continue on for a moment, until he caught sight of Clank's other hand moving. The famed hero watched intently as it slipped quietly over the off-white surface and rested upon Ratchet's own hand, still lying where it had been before Qwark's invasion.

A light bulb went off in the green man's head. And, being Qwark, he simply HAD to comment, "Wow!" He grinned, "Way to go, Ratchet, old pal! Ya finally found a girl who'll stay around longer than two weeks!"

The petting halted as both Ratchet and Clank stared awkwardly at Qwark, heads comically tilted in the same direction, to the same degree. All Ratchet could think to respond with was: "Clank's not a girl."

"Oh," Qwark's grin faded for a moment as he stroked his jutting chin thoughtfully, "So that makes you the girl, then?" Not giving Ratchet a chance to respond, he continued, "Makes sense. You ARE the more emotional one, and you do have the tendancy to wear clothes that make you look," He paused for a brief moment, then made curving motions with his hands, "feminine."

Qwark would later comment that Ratchet pouring an almost entirely full glass of ice water down Qwark's shirt did not exactly help his point. Ratchet didn't particularly care.

"I think I hate our friends."

Clank pulled himself into the co-pilot's seat, only half paying attention as he responded, "Have we not already had this conversation?"

Their ship took off, and Ratchet checked each system individually as the ship continued to climb higher, "Well, yeah, but we were half-asleep. It doesn't count."

Exasperated, Clank shook his head, "You do not hate our friends. You are merely... annoyed with them," He frowned, "I certainly cannot blame you for that... but I am also certain that you do not hate them."

The gears clicked as Ratchet made a sudden turn, and Clank -more due to habit than anything- grasped the edge of the dashboard. Once the ship resumed it's normal balance, Ratchet turned his head to meet Clank's eyes, "Maybe not ALL of them. But I could certainly due with a little less Qwark in my life."

"As I have mentioned before," Ratchet was already rolling his eyes, "Qwark's past actions and public reputation as a hero allow for connections that are not readily available for you or I. Therefore, continued interaction will be beneficial in the long run."

"Better be," Ratchet grumbled, increasing the speed slightly as they turned onto a lesser used lane, "I am so blaming you if he screws us over. Again."

In return for his skepticism, Ratchet was treated to the sound of his best friend's voice as he went off on a tangent about how one must not judge others only by their past actions. Sure, the reason he was doing so was Qwark, of all things, but there was something soothing about the familiarity of his best friend's lecturing; his voice had the most intriguing way of changing tones, the ups and downs changing immediately with the appropriate word. He simply listened to the tone as he drove, only chiming in to keep the conversation going.

Home arrived far too soon. Clank's rant ended with a simple, "At any rate, I am certain Qwark will not betray our trust again, considering what he risked to earn it back."

"Humph, whatever," Ratchet hopped out, "All I'm saying is that if he tries anything -like, ever- I'm gonna beat him over the head with my wrench."

"If you say so, love."

Ratchet paused.

Slowly, he turned back to face Clank, not quite certain what to say, or even if he could speak. At least Clank wasn't looking at him right now; he was staring into nothing -though his gaze was directed at the ship- with his body completely frozen, clearly baffled at his own choice in words.

Love...

The word echoed in his head for a moment, the full meaning of it sinking in slowly. When it did, Ratchet went from not being able to speak to not being able to stop smiling. It must have looked goofy, but all that mattered was that one word, and how Clank's voice would sound pronouncing the word in his own intriguing manner of speech, with sudden shifts of tones as emotion demanded it.

Clank was still stuck in his bemused stupor, and only broke out of it when Ratchet's hand wrapped around his own.

"C'mon, pal," There was a softness to Ratchet's voice, a rarity that made Clank smile, "Those chores aren't gonna do themselves, and then we can watch a movie. Sound like a plan?"

"...I could not come up with a better one if I tried."

The next morning saw Ratchet awake at the crack of dawn, slightly disoriented. Where was he?

Oh. The couch. Now Ratchet was beginning to remember; he and Clank had finally gotten around to watching the Precursor Trilogy, and it was a... unique experience, different from the other times they watched it. Suddenly, the lore and characters interested Clank, and Ratchet enjoyed that he, for once, was the one answering all the questions. Clank had began petting him again at some point -that had been nice- and he'd fallen asleep to the ending credits of the third movie, lying on his side with Clank resting against his stomach.

And now... now Clank was on his side, held fast to Ratchet's chest by two strong Lombax arms. There was a comforting coolness where their bodies were in contact, sending soothing waves of numbness to every other limb in his body. His own quiet breathing was the only sound in the room.

But all the things come to an end, and soon enough Ratchet felt Clank shift in his arms, "Ratchet?"

"Morning, pal," Ratchet grinned lazily, yawning softly. Neither moved, too relaxed to break the peaceful moment. The two lost track of how long they'd spent there- Minutes? Hours?

"It is late," Clank exclaimed suddenly, pushing against the Lombax's arms in an attempt to escape. Ratchet frowned, pulling Clank back with a far tighter grip, "Ratchet," Clank sounded annoyed, but his expression was far too amused for Ratchet to buy that, "let me up."

There was another yawn, large and exaggerated, "Can't we just stay here? Like, forever?"

A chuckle, "I think not, Ratchet. Now please, release me. I have previously made engagements to attend today."

Ratchet made a sound of consideration, tightening the grip of one arm to make up for the other one moving to stroke his chin, "Well... alright," Before Clank could respond, he added, "But you have to do something for me first."

"Yes?"

"...Call me love again?"

The expression on Clank's face was stunned, and perhaps a touch sentimental, and Ratchet had to force himself not to tear his gaze away. Eventually Clank wormed a hand out of the grip he was stuck in, raising it to gently stroke Ratchet's cheek.

"Please," The tone was too steady, "release me, love."

For a moment, Ratchet hesitated. It would be all too easily to ignore the small robot and keep his hold strong. Clank wouldn't break free; wouldn't risk hurting him. Yet, even as this idea passed through his head, his arms were already loosening, allowing Clank to easily squirm out. The look on the robot's face never wavered, keeping his gaze steady with Ratchet's as he crawled forward, sitting in front of Ratchet's head and not moving off of the couch.

Gently, very gently, Ratchet's head was caught between two robot hands, forcing his gaze into Clank's. As if he could look anywhere else. The position was unfamiliar, but the past day had been as well. They stayed like this, despite an ache forming in Ratchet's neck and Clank's previous engagements. Had breathing always been this difficult?

"Love," Still, Clank's voice was too calm. It was irritating, almost, "May I kiss you?"

"Y-you don't have to ask."

Clank took the invitation hesitantly, bringing his face closer to Ratchet's, still keeping his companion's head trapped by cold hands. First, he pressed his forehead to Ratchet's, gently, then closed the gap between their mouths in a fluid motion. The cold sent an involuntary shiver through the organic. One gloved hand moved to caress the metal fingers keeping his face in place. His ears stretched to their full limits behind his head.

Odd, really, how this was nothing and everything like the first one.

This time, Clank parted first. His one hand moved to support himself as he shifted. The other hand -still with Ratchet's hand on top of it- did not move in the slightest. Their eyes remained locked for some time, attempting to decipher what the other could possibly be thinking in this moment. It was Clank, once again, who broke the contact to rest his forehead against Ratchet's, who instinctively closed his eyes in response.

"Perhaps," Clank didn't move in the slightest, even as he talked, "my previous engagements can wait for a while..." The smile on his face could be heard as he added, "...love."

Authoress' Notes: I do not own Ratchet and Clank

This fanfiction was inspired a great deal by Lily Allen's Who'd Have Known. Not the biggest Lily Allen fan, but her stuff's okay, if you're into that kind of music. Also, RatchetxClank pairing. It's not particularly popular, but to each their own, right? And I will post stories without RxC in them. As soon as I figure out what they are... Also, obvious Jak&Daxter ref is obvious.

What did I do good on?: The dialogue. Usually, its my weakest area, but in this fic I really only included dialogue that's either essential, sweet or funny and I think it works to my advantage.
What did I fail on?: The PoV. It kind of jumps from 3rd person Omniscent to 3rd person Limited Ratchet's POV. Not all that much about what Clank's thinking through all of this.

Random Question for the Reviewers: What do you think of pet names in a relationship? If they're simple but sweet, like Clank's use of 'love' in the story, I don't mind them, but they can be obnoxious if they're overused cutesy nicknames like 'honey pie' or 'sweetikins' or 'big daddy'.