"You smell like coffee."
Blues cocked his head to the side. Rock filled the space immediately, head pressed into the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply. It would've been nice if Blues' skin was perfectly smooth—like in the romance novels or in the movies, but his skin was cracked and worn.
"You always say that."
"Maybe you just always smell like coffee."
Rock stretched out his legs. His tippy-toes pressed against the mattress and he pushed himself up higher, arms winding themselves around Blues' shoulders. He let out a pleased sigh.
"Huh. Don't you have somewhere to be today?"
Blues always sounded formal—even when he had Rock pulled flush against him and his nose buried in thick black hair.
"It's a Sunday," Rock murmured. "I want to go back to bed."
"You can't make a habit of being lazy."
"Just this once."
The smaller bot mimicked the way Blues tilted his head, using his tippy-toes to lift him up further still until he could press his lips against the other's in a kiss that tasted vaguely of tea with too much milk and sugar.
"Fine. Just this once."