[That's what he wanted to hear. No more words. Nothing so structured as that. Just Ratchet enjoying himself. Him unhinged. Something better for the poor guy. Of course, it's feeling pretty damn good himself, panting low and drawing out the sounds of Ratchet's name when he buries himself one last time, everything tightening and holding him there.]
[His own system overload hits a moment after Ratchet's, making him go rigid against and in him, hands all but digging into the wall behind him. It feels like a static explosion through every system and his knees want to buckle. But he holds on, holds Ratchet up, until it passes. His head bowed, pressing his forehead to the medic's chest.]
... you're. Real good at that.
[And making no move to pull away or out of him yet.]
no subject
[His own system overload hits a moment after Ratchet's, making him go rigid against and in him, hands all but digging into the wall behind him. It feels like a static explosion through every system and his knees want to buckle. But he holds on, holds Ratchet up, until it passes. His head bowed, pressing his forehead to the medic's chest.]
... you're. Real good at that.
[And making no move to pull away or out of him yet.]