"You're in my berth again."

Sideswipe sighed, curling into a tighter ball over his brother's berth as he heard the almost inaudible hiss of hydraulics that signaled his twin's frame climbing besides his own. It was faint, though, the golden mech's systems so finely tuned that it always ensured the most flawless performance. Just like Sunstreaker always claimed to be; Perfect. The crimson mech felt something warm pressing up against his back, and he shifted over the berth, snuggling closer to his brother's form.

"You know I don't use my berth anymore…"

"You should."

"I like your berth better. Smells like you."

He felt Sunstreaker snort behind him, and heard his voice reply almost moodily. "Smells like clean. If you waxed and took half the care I did, then your berth would smell just like mine. All my waxes are in my storage closet still." It was Sunstreaker's own way to say that Sideswipe was allowed to use his waxes. Granted, he was probably the only mech who would ever be granted a permission to use them.

"No, it doesn't smell like your waxes. It smells like you." There was a slight hint of nostalgia in the red prankster's voice, one that was met with a sigh by the golden twin. A strong arm draped over Sideswipe's waist, Sunstreaker's hand shifting to rest over the cherry chest-plates. "So what if it does? You don't need that when you can feel me here."

"I still like it. I like the way your berth smells." Sideswipe replied stubbornly, although he sighed when he felt his spark pulses relax, basking in the feeling of his pulses finally synching with those of his other half.

"Sides, I—"

"Don't." Sideswipe cut him off, his hand shifting to rest over his brother's arm around his waist. "Don't say anything. Just recharge with me." He could feel just how exhausted his brother was, and it was making his own spark feel drained, worn out.

"I don't wanna recharge." Sunstreaker grumbled, although his tone clearly betrayed the fact that he was pouting. Sideswipe couldn't help but smile softly, ex-vents releasing in a long, shaky vent.

"I know you're tired. M'tired too, Sunny."

"You'll recharge with me?" Sunstreaker's voice sounded almost… soft, when he said those words.

Sideswipe didn't reply right away and instead shuffled to press closer to his brother. "It hurts…" He said after a moment, his hand sliding from Sunstreaker's arm to twine his fingers with those that were resting over his cherry chest-plates.

"I know. Hurts too." Came the rueful reply. Sideswipe couldn't help but muse how strange it was to hear his brother speaking like that. Sunny never felt remorse over anything. "You'll recharge with me?" Sideswipe heard his brother ask again, and he nodded, lips curling upwards into a tiny smile.

"I'll be right with you when you wake up."

"…..I'm sorry, Sideswipe."

"Don't be. I want this just as much as you do."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Sunny."

-xxxxxxxxx-xxxxxxxxx-xxxxxxxxx-

Ratchet's spark sunk in its chamber when, the following morning, he made his way towards Sideswipe's quarters to see how the crimson mech had been holding on. He hadn't said a word to anyone, out of respect for the twins, but he'd known from the moment Sunstreaker's spark had faded, that Sideswipe's own was bound to follow.

That knowledge didn't make the sight of Sideswipe's lifeless form curled up over Sunstreaker's berth any less painful. One thought did give him comfort, though, and enough strength to sigh and wipe the single coolant tear that was running down his cheek.

They were together. That was the way it was supposed to be.

Because even at the very end, where one twin went, the other would always follow.