Time

I'm actually not a huge fan of this piece and struggled to write it as the prompt I was given made it difficult to stretch into 1k words
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"And whats this do?" Drift questioned, holding up a small blade and grinning at the medibot.

"That's a scalpel, and I've already explained it to you." Ratchet gruffed, moving his way across the medbay.

"Explain it to me again."

"Drift!" Ratchet groaned. He needed to work. Routine stuff done annually. Collecting everyone's medical records and taking note of any patterns of illness across the ship, most common injury places, and gathering information needed for an interfacing lesson. Because it seemed half the ship never got one back in school. The medic had had to deal with too many… inappropriate injuries in the span of about 6 orbital cycles, and he really wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"Oh come on Ratchet, I'm curious about your line of work!" Drift mused, following his partner across the room, his hands behind his back.

"Drift, can you not go bother Rodimus? I should've been done with this 2 joors ago." Ratchet turned to face him, frowning.

"I can help you then! It can't be all that complicated. Besides, I like spending time with you." Drift mentioned, grabbing onto Ratchet's right servo.

Ratchet of course enjoyed spending time with Drift too, but not when he needed these reports in to Magnus, and was running incredibly close to his deadline. He chose to humor Drift, handing him a datapad.
"Alright then, go on. Help."

Drift looked at it, narrowing his optics.
"I thought it was a myth all medics wrote in unreadable scratch." He laughed nervously, setting it back down. All for having a proper reason to stick around.

"I'd be done a lot quicker if you stayed out of my way and stopped distracting me every 5 kliks." Ratchet pointed out, grabbing one of the bigger stacks of medical records. Tailgate. Who knew being stuck under ground unmoving for 6 million years would cause so many medical issues? Well, Ratchet sure did.

"Don't you like having company while you work? I know Rodimus does. Sometimes having a conversation can lead to a clearer mind and more proper focus."

"I don't, and Rodimus only like having you around because he can stare at your… Assets." Ratchet pointed out, glancing at Drift's legs.

"You think too little of him." Drift shook his helm, planting himself on one of the medical berths.

"I think I think about him a proper amount." Ratchet argued, scrolling through and making more of Tailgate's biggest problem areas. It would probably be best to get that piece replaced entirely, it kept freezing up… He couldn't even recall the last time that system was needed on a mech! Maybe it would be worth a full frame transplant for Tailgate.

"It just… it feels like we never hang out anymore." Drift sighed, dramatically throwing an arm over his optics.

"Doesn't distance make the heart grow fonder?"

"Not when we can be together all the time!" Drift argued, huffing and pouting at Ratchet.

"... Listen. Let me finish these reports, and I promise you, as soon as I am done, I will be with you as much as you want." Ratchet negotiated.

Drift's optics lit up and he sat up on the berth.
"Well, if you insist." He giggled, waving goodbye and heading out of the medbay.

Finally, Ratchet had some peace and quiet.

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Ratchet sighed. Those reports had taken him way longer than necessary, and by the time he finished Drift would've definitely been in recharge. Still, he'd made a promise and Drift was a sucker for those.

He made his way to Drift's habsuite, entering the code. The door slid open and there was Drift, curled up like some turbofox on his berth slap, his vents slow and quiet. Ratchet walked in, the door sliding shut behind him. He sat on the edge of the berth, glancing down at the mech.

Drift cracked an optic open, not as asleep as Ratchet had thought, and turned over on his back to face Ratchet.
"I thought that wasn't supposed to take you so long." He sighed, stretching himself out.

"... I overestimated my ability." Ratchet admitted.

Drift hummed, shutting his optics again and turning back over. Ratchet placed a servo on his side, looking down at the floor.

"So I guess I really wasn't that big of a distraction." Drift said smugly, grinning.

"You definitely set me back a joor or two." Ratchet corrected, trying to force a frown onto his faceplates.

"I had a reason." Drift sighed, his vents slowing down again. Ratchet took that as his sign to leave, however when he shifted, Drift lifted his helm again.

"Where do you think you're going?" Drift questioned. "I remember you promising to me that when you finished working, you'd spend time with me."

Ratchet sighed, and came back to the berth, sitting on the edge. Drift pulled him down by his arm.

"I'm not having you sneak off when I'm in recharge." He mumbled, cuddling up into Ratchet. "You're going to stay here and spend time with me, like you promised."

"... Of course, Drift." Ratchet nodded, and wrapped himself around his partner, shuttering his optics. He listened to Drift's invents and outvents, listening to the speed at which they slowed down and the volume lowered. Ratchet was unaware if his medic brain was causing him to fixate on this… Or if this is just a thing mechs did when they cared for each other romantically. He decided to go for the first one. He didn't want to admit he was getting soft, even when it was staring him right in the face.

Eventually, he recognized that Drift was in a deep recharge. He could take the opportunity to leave, sneak out and head to his own habsuite next to the medbay. But… Drift had a point. He did promise him they'd spend time together, and… This was a nice way of doing it, Ratchet acknowledged. So, he pressed a kiss to the back of Drift's helm, and allowed his systems to take over and send him into a recharge of his own.