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Rated: E · Fiction · Other · #1899913
I keep wishing you'll come home. Please, I need you here with me.
Today will be different. I know it. I’m warm in bed with you, the sheets kicked to the bottom of our berth, I know you don’t like them. My plating scrapes against yours lightly as I shift to get closer, close enough to hear your spark whirl inside your chassis.



You stir, single optic flicking on in our dark room. I freeze, the sound of my spark and the gentle hum of the ship are the only things registered by my audio receptors.



“Kicker…”



The nickname makes my processor swim, your voice low and sleepy, losing its formal tone. It feels like vorns before I bring myself to answer.



“‘m sorry if I.. woke you…”



You wrap your good arm around me, servo gently brushing the base of my wings. They flutter and press down at your simple touch.



“I don’t mind.” I can hear the smile in your voice, even if you don’t have a proper mouth. “I like mornings with you.”



“I’m so glad.. I lov—”



A loud bang. Followed by a shout.



“Metalkicker!! I said UP!!”



I wake up with a jolt, hitting the floor hard on my poor wings.



He looks down at me, golden face, and two optics.



“We have work to do.”



Every morning: “Today will be different.” and maybe you’ll come home to me.

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