A/N: This was written as a gift for a livejournal user on tf2007fun; hoppersnail left a comment in a post that I made and it spawned a plot bunny, and I said that if she would write the bunny, I would present to her a ficlet of her choice. She wanted a Ratchet/Twins piece, and this was the result. It's pretty much a PWP, set between Twinning the Hatchet and Cave Canem. O.O
Completely unbeta'd, so please feel free to point out any mistakes.
EDIT: Thanks to Kesera for pointing out mistakes! All fixed now! XD
ALSO: Gah, I can't believe I forgot this! Disclaimer: If you recognize it, then I don't own it. Heck, even if you don't recognize it, I probably don't own it. I'm just borrowing Transformers for a little while, and I promise to return them none the worse for wear. O.O;
"Psst! Ratchet!"
Ratchet looked up when he heard his name being hissed to see Sideswipe peeking around the corner and motioning to him frantically. He sighed.
"What do you want, Sideswipe?" he asked irritably, his attention returning to rebuilding Mirage's damaged cloaking device. The Ligier needed the part back before the start of his shift, and Ratchet really couldn't afford to let the red Lamborghini distract him.
No matter how much he was beginning to enjoy his new lover's 'distractions'.
"Someone's in a bad mood today," Sideswipe quipped, coming out into the open when he realized that Ratchet was alone in the medbay.
"I have a lot to get done," the medic said shortly.
"Where are your shadows?" the red twin asked curiously, peering around as though expecting someone to jump out at him.
Ratchet looked up at him blankly. "My what?"
Sideswipe arched an optic ridge at him. "First Aid and Swoop," he explained, grinning.
The medic snorted. "They're both on training missions with their brothers," he grumbled, obviously annoyed with that fact. He glanced up at the Lamborghini, whose grin had become suspiciously wide. "You never did say what you wanted," he reminded the other mech.
"Weeellllll…" Sideswipe drawled playfully, "I'm officially off-duty as of this moment, and I was feeling a little bored—"
"No," Ratchet interrupted calmly.
"No?" Sideswipe pouted. "But you don't even know what I'm going to say…"
The CMO 'hmphed' in irritation. "It doesn't matter. I haven't got the time right now, Sides," he said firmly.
"But I think you'll really like what I've got in mind," the Lamborghini purred, wrapping his arms around his white lover from behind and trailing a distracting black hand across the seal on the medic's windshield.
"Sideswipe!" Ratchet squeaked, feeling the other hand delve boldly into an armor seam. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Entertaining myself," Sideswipe replied in a low voice, just as he found and tweaked a particular wiring cluster—and the medic was unable to hold back a breathy moan.
"I really do need to finish this!" Ratchet protested weakly, leaning into the red mech's caresses.
Sideswipe chuckled softly in his audios. "And I would really like to finish you," he murmured, and the medic gasped when the red twin gave a light tug on the wiring harness in his hand for emphasis. "I don't think it'll take too long," he added smugly.
He trailed his fingers down the medic's arm and gripped one red hand in his own, beginning to gently stroke it. He and Sunstreaker had quickly discovered that Ratchet's hands, being the medic's most important tools, were highly sensitive, and they had learned to exploit that sensitivity shamelessly.
"Sideswipe, please!" the ambulance whimpered, feeling his legs threatening to give out on him and sagging against the red warrior. His cooling fans whirred to life, and the first warnings of overload began to flash in his visuals.
"Please, what, Ratch?" Sideswipe asked in a throaty voice, and then nipped at the cables in Ratchet's neck. The medic shrieked and arched against his lover as his systems hit critical status at that very moment, and the Lamborghini held him tightly so that he wouldn't fall when his legs refused to support him. Sideswipe very carefully eased himself down to sit on the floor with the sated medic in his arms and gently kissed the pale cheek.
"You're impossible," Ratchet mumbled finally, wearily raising his head from the red mech's shoulder to meet his gaze.
"Yeah, but you love me anyway," Sideswipe replied with a cheeky grin. Suddenly, the Lamborghini's gaze snapped to the door, startling Ratchet, but he relaxed almost immediately as his brother stepped into the medbay. Sunstreaker gleamed brightly beneath the artificial lights; he'd obviously just come from the washracks.
Sideswipe tenderly helped Ratchet to stand, since he was still a bit unsteady from the red twin's attentions. Sunstreaker walked up to them and, with an unreadable look on his face, produced a scrap of paper from subspace, handing it to the medic. Ratchet could not keep his optics from widening when he saw the sketch that filled the page—an image of himself cradled in Sideswipe's arms, curled up on the floor of the medbay. The yellow mech must have come in just as Sideswipe sat down with him—Sunstreaker had captured perfectly the emotions of the scene, and for a moment Ratchet could only look at the picture in awe.
He looked back up at the volatile warrior. "Thank you," he said softly, reaching up to touch the yellow chestplate, just above Sunstreaker's spark. The yellow twin nodded and, though his expression did not change, something about him made Ratchet think that he was pleased that the medic liked the gift.
Sideswipe leaned over and kissed Ratchet tenderly. "We should probably let you get back to work," he murmured regretfully as he pulled away. "See you when you get back?"
"Yeah," Ratchet replied softly, subspacing the drawing reverently.
When Mirage finally came in to have his cloaking device reinstalled, the medic was still smiling.
