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Ratchet: A Short Story

Decent Essays
"Then I will give you one. Anything for you, my love," Optimus whispers to Ratchet with a soft, gentle smile, leaning into the other's touch, nuzzling against his hand. "You're so beautiful," he breathes as he removes an arm from behind his beloved bonded, bringing a servo up to the side of his helm, a thumb brushing over that lovely blue color on his faceplating. Optimus tilted his helm to the side, his optics shuttering as his lip plates met with Ratchet's again. It wasn't a lustful, fevered open mouth kiss, but instead a simple passionate one, his lip plates pressed firmly against his conjunx's, wrapping against them. Once he heard the retracting of breastplating, he withdrew himself from Ratchet's lips, hoisting himself up with his arms
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