Rattrap sighed as he waited for the built in microwave to finish it's work. The rodent had sympathy for Cheetor and the nightmares he had about his mothering unit, but slag was he getting tired of this tiresome routine!
"What are you doing up so late vermin?" Rattrap turned his head to see Dinobot scowling at him from the door way. The copper spy scoffed and looked at the microwave again.
"Spots had a nightmare, so ah'm makin' him some warm milk..." He replied in a dismissive tone. Dinobot snorted.
"What petty, childish nightmares could fur ball have conjured up this time?" He growled, trekking into the kitchen abruptly.
"I dunno, something about how his momma went offline." Rattrap grunted in a sarcastically casual way. Had the raptor's brain not been fossilised, the rodent thought, he might have grasped that fact.
"Hmph, brat." He muttered, leaning against the same surface as the rat. They stood there in silence for about half a minute before Rattrap got bored.
"Aren't you supposed to be writing poetry or somethin'?"
"Aren't you supposed to perverting over despicable pornography?"
"Touché." Dinobot growled in disgust at the playful tone that flooded the vermin's voice. "Hey, don't go growling at me! You brought it up, Choppaface!"
"Correct, rodent; I did." And with that, they went silent again. DING. Microwave went off. Rattrap moved towards it, retrieved the hot mug of warm milk and placed it on the surface they were leaning on. He then swung open a cupboard and cursed Rhinox under his breath for putting the honey on such a high shelf. Rattrap stretched up on tiptoes to reach the plastic bottle of golden goo, but to no avail. He groaned and strained to grab it, failing miserably.
Without a sound, a long, brown leathery arm reached up and retrieved the bottle, then handed it to Rattrap.
"'Tanks..."
"You are welcome." There was another silence as Rattrap began squeezing the honey into the warm milk, stirring it with a teaspoon. Dinobot suddenly heard a humorous sound and a string of curse words from the rodent as the stiff bottle chose that moment to let the cap spring of and splatter honey all down Rattrap's front.
"Ah, slag!" Rattrap spat in irritation. He began licking some honey off of his fingers while stirring the milk with his free hand, when he noticed, in the corner of his optic, Dinobot staring at him. A smirk flickered on Rattrap's face. "'Ey Choppaface?"
"Hmnn?"
"Like honey?"