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Red Alert didn't know how good of a kisser Bumblebee actually was.
He's currently straddling Red Alert's lap, his hands on Red's face. Cradling him. The nicest touch he’s felt in years. Bee's head is tilted so that his lips can capture Red's perfectly.
It's mostly quiet, with some random movie playing in the background. Red pays no mind to it. He's not even sure how they got to this point, and he doesn't care.
All he cares about is this moment.
They part for only a brief moment to catch their breaths before going back again. Red's hands are on Bee's hips, squeezing them.
Maybe it's the high grade they drank earlier. Maybe that's what's gotten to them to this point.
Bumblebee’s tongue briefly dips into Red's mouth. He makes a small noise, and returns the gesture, going slowly. He breaths out before trying to-
Something blows up on the TV.
Heat rushes over Red Alert. He's panting and his legs feel like jelly. Adrenaline is coursing through him.
Suddenly, he feels the ground crumbling beneath him. He falls and everything is dark before he's faced with Jetfire's head. It's been blown off of his body, leaving a puddle of energon.
His body is aching. Screaming in pain, but he has to keep moving. He examines everyone he finds, hoping to find a survivor.
The bombs have all gone off, but if his audials weren't ringing, the flames themselves would've been deafening.
Everyone is gone.
Suddenly, the flames are distant. A faint glow in the sky. He's helping Chromia walk. She's barely alive. Energon is dripping from them. Feels like gushing. It feels like every emotion that Red Alert kept deep down for years is coming back up, threatening to spill out like puke.
Chromia's dying. He can feel her fading away. He's yelling something to her. He can't remember what he said. She's fading, Red Alert feels like he's fading away, people are yelling at him, going at his side, asking, questioning, telling him to wake up-
Something heavy is on Red Alert.
An unfamiliar field is on him. A feeling of whatever love he has left.
It takes a bit for Red Alert to get back to the present. He and Bee have stopped kissing, and Bee is trying to help, enveloping him in a field of warmth. Not the warmth from the explosion. But the warmth of someone who finally cares about him outside of being a medic.
He wraps his arms around Bee and nuzzles their helms together.
“You good?” Bee quietly asks.
“Mm. I'll live.” He's not really good right now. The lights have been dimmed down and the TV has been turned off.
“What…do you want to do now?”
His systems are still shaky. He’s tired and wants to forget about all this. “You got a cigarette?”
“Didn't Ratchet tell you to stop smoking or you'll die?’
“Not his exact words.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“Who's the one with a medical degree around here?”
“And who has the cigarettes?”
Red Alert smiles. “Well played.” He lays back against the couch. “Kind of…just want to sleep now.”
Bumblebee leans against Red. “That sounds better.”