The dim glow of the underground chamber bathed the stone walls in muted light. Megatronus sat half-armored, plating loosened at the shoulders as he tightened and realigned a section of his chest armor with methodical precision. The air carried the faint metallic tang of fresh-forged steel.

Across the room, Orion Pax sat hunched over a datapad, optics narrowed in focus. His stylus moved quickly, recording data with the diligence only an archivist could maintain. The silence between them was comfortable, punctuated only by the low clink of tools and the occasional tap of Orion’s stylus.

Yet when Orion rose, datapad hugged to his chassis, Megatronus tilted his helm and reached out with one massive servo—almost absentmindedly brushing the edge of Orion’s arm before the archivist slipped quickly out of reach.

Megatronus watched with a mixture of amusement and... yes, a hint of disappointment, as the archivist slipped away from his grasp. He'd clearly flustered the small mech, pushing him out of his comfort zone.

“Leaving already?” he called after Orion. His gaze swept over the archivist's retreating form, and he couldn't help but add, "And not a single goodnight kiss?"