"You drive me insane," Magnus whispers, stroking his helm.
"I'll take that as a compliment," he murmurs back, and laughs.
Rodimus always laughs during interface, optics bright and sharp as shards of starlight, and it cuts Magnus to the core because it's only in those moments he remembers that his young leader understands a lot more than he lets on. Magnus rolls him on his back, pinning him in a sudden fit of temper. Rodimus squirms underneath him, gasping when his second brings his full weight to bear. It hurts him, Magnus knows it does, but he also knows that he won't stop. Sometimes he wonders what the young Prime is doing to him. "Please," Rodimus whines, then abruptly laughs again, until Magnus silences him with a kiss. The force of it breaks his tender mouth open and Magnus probes it deep with his glossa, and he understands.
"I've defiled a god," he says aloud after it's over, when they're both cycling air and dripping condensation. And that earns him another soft, breathless laugh.