( GN!USR )

The sun was setting beyond the horizon with the unbearable slowness of a snail, dragging the scorching heat away with it. The penultimate rays illuminated the contours of Ratchet's figure, as if disapproving of how he stood out against the desert.

"You have very specific ideas about how Conjux endura should spend time together," Ratchet's voice held ordinary irritation, as if ingrained into his voice module over the long and hard years of his life.

He had spread his legs too wide, trying to repeat all your movements. Flexibility and captivating lightness were not his strong suit. To tell the truth, he was the complete opposite of this.

Having given you the freedom to decide how to spend time together, Ratchet least expected that you would decide to train with him on the roof of the Autobot base Omega-3. He was against it, because he is a bunch of old metal that was starting to rust, but wasn't it his own fault for giving you complete freedom of choice?

And to be honest, not concealing anything in his spark core, he wanted to somehow please you – even if for that he needed to repeat every one of your foolish movements which resembled an absurd, but effective dance.

Ratchet didn't even have time to react when he fell. The crash, amplified many times over by his mass, momentarily drowned out even the howling of the wind. A pure, darkening canvas of blue sky, studded with white clouds, appeared before his optics. His joints ached while Ratchet lay motionless on his back, not even trying to get up.

It was foolish to try to stand on two hands, imitating you. While you balanced perfectly, standing upside down, Ratchet only managed to fall shamefully, feeling only a shooting pain in his joints.

Old age is no joy.

The alarm was obvious on your faceplate when you loomed over him, blocking his view of the sky. Ratchet released a plume of overheated air with a resigned look and averted his gaze, regretting that he had gotten into this.

The persistence of the Decepticons in their villainies kept the Autobots tense, so neither you nor Ratchet could give each other proper attention. But now that the two of you had gotten a chance to rest, Ratchet wanted only one thing — to relax and do nothing, feeling your presence so close; not to do exercises, as you suggested, although he himself allowed you to choose how you would spend your time together.

"Just lie down next to me. Don't get smart and don't bombard me with questions about whether I'm alright," Ratchet almost snorted before falling silent and allowing the silence to fill the space.

He still felt awkward.