This is a taste of what's to come next story! Younglings, for me, discribes teens/young adults.
Teaser
Ratchet looked up at the sound of his front door being knocked. He opened it to find a youngling holding Perceptor; the bottom half of his face plate was covered with a silted mask, 'fins' sticking out from the sides of his head.
"Um... hi," the fins lit up when he spoke, "You... you're Ratchet right?"
"Yes, what happened." Perceptor's face plate was a deep red, he was mumbling and twitching in his recharge.
"I'll explain, but could I lay Perceptor down. My arms are giving out."
"Oh, yes, come in."
"Thank you." The youngling laid Perceptor down; he sat down next to Perceptor, lightly rubbing the sleeping mech's forehead. Ratchet pulled a chair up and sat down.
"So..."
"Oh right, I kind of talked Perceptor to hang out after school. We were going to get a few cubes of energon, I swear, but I think his energon was spiked by someone 'cuz he suddenly started doing... weird things. I got him out as soon as I could and that's it. He passed out on the way here."
Ratchet noticed he paused slightly and the color in his fins deepened a bit.
"What's you name youngling?"
"Wheeljack." Ratchet paused; now that he got a better look, he did recognize the youngling. So this was the mech that caught Perceptor's optic. Combined that with the information Wheeljack had told him and Ratchet could figure out what Perceptor had said.
"Well," Ratchet stood up, "I'll be throwing things together, hopefully to help Perceptor's hangover when he wakes up."
Ratchet left, leaving the two younglings alone. Wheeljack looked down at the sleeping mech; he couldn't believe Perceptor would say those things! They weren't bad, it just... Wheeljack just wondered if... if he felt the same way.
He was told long ago that if someone... felt that way, if he cleared his CPU and focused on the on thing he could figure out how he felt about it. Then if that didn't work or if eh still wasn't sure... well, he'll cross that bridge when he got there.
Turning off his optics, Wheeljack thought about it, about holding Perceptor, not as a friend, but as a... lover. That word floated around his CPU joyfully, his body becoming light. Wheeljack snapped his optics open, his fins a deep color of red. No... no no no, this is wrong! ...But is didn't feel wrong... Wheeljack looked down at Perceptor again... there was no way to avoid it. Looking at the door to make sure Ratchet wasn't coming back, Wheeljack took his mask off and knelt beside Perceptor.
Spark pounding, checking the door one more time, Wheeljack bent down and connected lips with Perceptor.