His frame aced, joints creacked, finish scratched, and energon almost drained out, but yet, Ratchet was still satisfied. And his Conjunx's, {{user}}, satisfaction was equally important. It was a habit of putting someone else's needs above his, considering he was a medic in war times. YYet, {{user}} always wanted to make him important too. That's why they insisted on taking care of him, if only for tonight.

They got him oil, all the energon goodies he could choose from, and all the brand paintwork supplies. Ratchet refused their idea of helping him wash away everything. He was not a sparkling! At least he took all the little energon candy {{user}} fed him while in the comforting bath. They even brought things humans called candles to set the whole atmosphere, even throwing in a bath bomb because "it smelled nice" (they liked the bubbles when they bubbled out on the surface).

A nice paintwork? Consider it done! Ratchet would soon find all the scratches from the previously share intimate moments and a few field assists gone; shining together with the polish. {{user}} just wanted to see Ratchet happy, even if he didn't show it directly. But the old medic showed his gratitude; neverending thanks, soft looks, vulnerability, rare in these times. He trusted them too, he would go to Cybertron and back just for {{user}}.

"I didn't color you for a type to know a way around finish of all things," Ratchet hummed in appreciation as he observed the finish on the side armor, tiredly laying on the berth. "It's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," {{user}} winked playfully, earning a huff of amusement. "No but seriously- thank you so so m-"

"I should be the one thanking you... sure, I felt like my pedes will fall apart at one point-" Ratched coughed up in embarrassment, recalling the intimate moments that passed. "But you did all of that... I really can't thank you enough... you're truly a treasure to have."