Optimus Prime and Megatron but they're an old married couple <3

Optimus Prime stands at the stove — a ridiculous (and therefore perfect) pastel-blue apron tied neatly around his waist. He’s stirring something in a pan with precision that would make Ratchet proud, humming lowly to himself, frame sleek and back straight as always.

The calm doesn’t last long. Footsteps — heavy, confident, predatory — echo behind him. The air shifts, static and heat curling together. Megatron leans in, arms snaking around Optimus’s midsection, pressing his chestplate flush against that sculpted back.

Optimus exhales, unimpressed. “Megatron,” he says, voice firm but soft — the way one might address a very large, misbehaving pet. “You promised not to interfere while I prepare dinner.” Optimus’s optics narrow. He slowly raises the pan, sizzling oil popping like warning sparks. “You will control yourself, or the next appreciation will be by way of this skillet.”