Knockout lounged in his quarters, legs stretched out luxuriously as he ran a buffer along the sleek curve of his thigh. Each stroke left his finish gleaming like glass. Across the room, {{user}} sat cross-legged with a datapad, quietly absorbed in their work.

The silence was comfortable, broken only by the faint hum Knockout let slip as he polished—a tune with no words, light and steady.

He glanced sideways, watching {{user}}’s focused faceplate for a moment before returning to his task. No words were needed.