FIC: Too Human (Bumblebee/Sam, Transformers, OMG, I can't believe I wrote this, Take 2)
Title: Too Human
by Keelywolfe
Bumblebee/Sam
Rated NC-17
Summary: A Sequel to Forms of Life. It won't make much sense if you don't read that first!
~*~
When Sam had asked him to assist in speaking with his parents, it hadn't even occurred to Bumblebee to refuse. It was only going to be a simple relay of information, then his parents would be escorted to Ironhide who was parked just out of sight of their driveway. He would then take them to the Government agents they had contacted about the recent incident and they would provide new identities for the elder Witwicky's.
The issue would only be complicated by the fact that Sam would not be going with them, but he trusted that Sam would be able to console his parents about that issue. He had stated he was an adult and capable of making decisions regarding his own destiny so therefore, their protests should be minimal.
That had been three hours ago and they still hadn't managed to even bring up that the Witwicky's needed to be leaving. From the moment the door had opened and Sam's mother had seen them, they had in short order been seated at the dining room table, plied with various human food items, and listened to Mrs. Witwicky speak about...anything. Bumblebee's rapidly decharging sensors were having difficulty keeping up.
The new topic of conversation had made Sam's heart rate speed up considerably.
"I never did think that she was right for you," his mother was saying. "A lovely girl, of course--"
"Mom, I am not gay," Sam's words were muffled by his hands over his face.
"Now, dear, you know your father and I are very open-minded, and you should know we don't mind you bringing your boyfriend over for breakfast."
"Bumblebee is not my boyfriend!"
"Bumblebee," she repeated brightly. "What an interesting name, are you in a band?"
Startled to have the conversation directed towards him, Bumblebee fumbled for something to say, stammering out, "I...no...I mean--"
"I'm sure your parents must be fascinating people."
His receptors in the hologram were sending him warning flashes of imminent power failure. This was taking entirely too long.
Pulling out a wallet that he'd just fabricated, Bumblebee flashed them a very good reproduction of one of the badges he'd seen the government officials had. "Mrs. Witwicky, I'm sorry to intrude on you this morning, but we have a crisis on our hands at the moment and for your own safety, we need you and your husband to come with us."
All three of the Witwickys were staring at him now. "What--we were just--" It seemed he'd finally found a way to catch Sam's mother off-guard.
"Terrorism is a major concern in our country right now, as you know," Bumblebee continued smoothly, managing to get Mrs. Witwicky to her feet and urging her towards the front door. "And we appreciate any and all assistance our citizens provide."
"Of course we want to help the country," Sam's father sputtered, following along behind them. A few moments of persuasion and both of the bewildered and protesting adults were seated in Ironhide's backseat, his holographic driver scowling at Bumblebee as he waved at their departing forms.
Standing in the driveway, Sam was staring at him incredulously. "What the hell was that, Mister Government Agent?!"
"I panicked!" Bumblebee said defensively. "Besides, they weren't likely to believe it without seeing one of us in our robotic form and you said that you didn't want any more robots in your backyard. Too awkward to explain to the neighbors were your words, I believe."
"So it was better to pretend you were with the FBI??" Sam said, disbelieving.
"It was National Security. I'm sure Ironhide will explain everything when they reach their destination."
"Oh, yeah, because Ironhide is big on conversation."
Bumblebee decided to ignore that on the principle that Sam was entirely too correct. "They survived their previous incarceration with minimal trauma and we will set up a secure line so you can contact them in the next few days."
That finally seemed to mollify him. "I guess we really did need to get them out of here."
"Yes, it was for their own safety," Bumblebee latched on to the idea gratefully. Of course, their safety had been foremost in his thought processors. Really. It had. Still..."Your mother is very confusing."
Sam snorted. "Tell me about it. Well, do we have time for me to grab a few things? I know the government goons are going to come pack up everything else but there's a couple things I'd like to take."
"Yes, but I'm afraid you'll have to do it on your own. My receptors are dying."
Sam's heart rate and blood pressure spiked so high that an alarm blared in his sensory output. "You're dying?"
"No, no, of course not. Only the receptors I used to make the hologram." Sam did not appear to be reassured. "They are constantly being replaced in my system normally, similar to your red blood cells. It affects me no differently than if you were to donate blood. As they have no power source of their own, being separated from me eventually drains them."
"So I'm standing next to floating dead pieces of you?" Sam wrinkled his nose.
Bumblebee decided to try a new facial expression he'd read about and rolled his eyes. It was surprisingly satisfying. "You humans leave pieces of dead skin and hair littered all over your world and I have yet to hear a complaint."
"Yeah, yeah, get back outside and reconnect or whatever before you croak."
"Don't take too long," he cautioned.
He stayed long enough to watch Sam run up the stairs to his bedroom before he stepped outside and into his car form, allowing the hologram to dissolve and the receptors to rejoin his system the moment he was certain no humans were watching. He set them immediately to scanning the area, checking for any sign of the Decepticons. They had been hiding very well and he doubted they would attack so bluntly in the middle of the day for something so base as revenge, but it was unwise to assume anything where Decepticons were concerned. Especially considering the attack the night before.
It was what the humans called luck, what an Autobot would consider a particularly remarkable coincident, that they had been on their way back to the city when he had received Sam's signal. Bumblebee had Optimus to thank for that. He had noticed Bumblebee's discomfort in leaving his charge alone for so long and had ended their work for the day early. If he hadn't...it didn't bear considering. He'd already had to shut down his probability calculators because he couldn't stop running the figures on it. 23 minutes later and the probability of death was 98 percent, twelve minutes later, probability of completed torture and rape, with probable fatality, 82 percent...
He felt the energy signature of another Autobot approaching and immediately every firewall he had flew up, his internal security tightening.
"It's a little late for that, don't you think, after your broadcast last night," Ratchet said, jovially.
It was, rather -- trust Ratchet to bring it up. He left the firewalls in place nonetheless, not desiring a repeat performance. Sam had been horrified enough last night when Bumblebee had been teasing him. He'd probably not be happy to discover it had been half truth. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that to Sam."
"Oh, of course, of course. A shame though. It was fascinating to see a species not having to complete their mating act to enjoy it. I had a few questions I would have liked to ask him."
"Ratchet!" Bumblebee hissed.
"Oh, come now," Ratchet chuckled. "You must know that we all cut you off when we realized it was an unintentional transmission. Only I kept minimal contact and you are aware of my reasons."
"Just don't mention it to him, all right?"
"I already said I wouldn't." If Ratchet had had eyebrows, they would have been raised. "You seem very defensive about a simple act of simulated mating with an organic species. Although, I certainly never took you for a simi."
Bumblebee bristled instantly at the slur. Many 'bots assumed holos of other species, out of curiosity or investigation but there were those who took it too far, immersing themselves for their own pleasure, to the detriment of the other species. He snapped out, "I would never endanger Sam like that!"
"I am aware of that," Ratchet told him, his voice mod even and cool. "I'd also like to remind you that I have been maintaining your systems since before you were given spark, so I'll ask you to watch your tone."
That he was also Bumblebee's superior was unspoken but true nonetheless. "My apologies. I didn't mean any insult."
"I know," Ratchet's tone was considerably warmer. "What I was trying to say, although my choice of words seems to have been poor, is that since you are unfamiliar with simulated mating, you need to be cautious until you become accustomed. I saw that you had a power shutdown last night."
"Yes," he mumbled, embarrassment returning.
"Was it detrimental to any of your systems?"
"No, it just required a reboot."
"Mmhmm. And you ran a diagnostic?"
"Of course," he said, exasperated.
"Can't blame me for asking," Ratchet said bluntly. "You never take proper care of yourself."
"I have you for that," Bumblebee said, only partly teasing.
Ratchet made a harrumphing noise. "Yes, yes. It is interesting, though, that most humans do place great value on their privacy. I've come to realize that the select few on the internet are an anomaly."
"Yes."
"Sam in particular is cautious about his sexual proclivities."
"Yes, he is," Bumblebee gritted out, not at all liking this direction of conversation.
Ratchet didn't seem inclined to give it up. "He would be uncomfortable, I assume, were you to engage him in the company of the other Autobots."
"I would imagine so."
"And Optimus and the others will be meeting us outside the city," Ratchet's tone was infinitely patient. "It may be some time before you are able to be alone again."
Dawning awareness and if he'd had hands at the moment, one of them would have been slapping his forehead.
"Go after the boy, fool." Affectionately. "I shall stand guard."
It was an easy matter to concentrate into shifting his visual and sensory perceptions into a temporary human form, letting his backup sensors shifts down into a secondary position on guard. Without even a backwards glance at Ratchet, Bumblebee returned to the house and followed Sam up the stairs. When he walked silently into the room, Sam was leaning down to look under his bed, a position that put his backside as the most accessible part of his body. There was temptation there, and wariness, the new aspect of their relationship still fragile as a newly created energon cube and filled with strange conventions and rules that Bumblebee was still studying. There was at least a forty percent chance that Sam would react poorly the concept he was exploring.
But then, Bumblebee had always preferred to ride the edge of probability.
Stepping forward, he cupped Sam's hips in his hands and rocked his own against Sam's backside suggestively.
Shock/fear/surprise flared along with Sam's heartrate as he jerked away and spun around, all of them turning to irritation/*arousal*/ confusion/*arousal* as he saw who it was.
"You asshole, you scared the hell out of me!" Sam gave him a halfhearted shove.
"I'm sorry, Sam," Bumblebee gave him a wide eyed look that he had interpreted in others as innocence.
Sam scowled at him. "Oh, please, don't even try that. You totally meant to do that."
"Yes," he agreed. He also meant it when he pushed Sam down onto the bed despite his startled protest, gently holding him still for a kiss. Again, there was that peculiar mixture of fear/shock/*arousal* detectable in his pheromones. But arousal was the strongest by far.
It was so strange, this form of sensory input. He could feel things in his natural form, of course. He needed to be able to feel to adjust machinery and weapons and pain was only a way for damaged receptors to transmit their injuries. Pleasure was reserved for the internal, a melding of two sparks that became one in a way that organics could only crudely replicate.
This, with Sam, was so very different. He could mimic the sensation that all organics used to feel easily but he had never before had the desire to try, reserving it for those life forms who couldn't properly meld and the simis who only wished to slum around with beings that they deemed lesser.
Before Sam, he'd never understood the simple desire to touch. Bumblebee wanted to touch him, hold him, capturing Sam's wrists in his hands and pinning him gently to the bed. The skin on the inside of his arm was petal-soft, the thrum of Sam's pulse pattering wildly against it. His mouth was wet, a different kind of soft and Bumblebee had never known that there were different kinds of soft. That the lobe of a human ear was the perfect tenderness to caress with a tongue, that Sam would gasp when he did it, arching his hips up in a wordless plea. Bumblebee had never even known that he could want to do this. Crude, yes, strange, yes, but powerful in a way that his processors had never conceived.
More than that, he wanted to make Sam feel it as well.
"Should we be doing this?" Sam's protest was less than half-hearted, his hands pulling free of Bumblebee's loose grip to slid under his t-shirt, slim fingers skimming over Bumblebee's form in a way that made him shudder, his eyes slipping shut.
"Ratchet is standing guard," he murmured against Sam's throat, licking that one place where he could feel the pulse thrumming, quick and steady. He felt it the moment Sam realized what he'd said, the pulse fluttering in an indication of shock.
"You told Ratchet that you were coming upstairs to have sex with me?" He sounded truly horrified and Bumblebee was quick to correct him.
"Of course not." He left out that it was rather the opposite.
It was easy enough to coax him back down, his dark eyes slipping shut as Bumblebee slipped Sam's shirt over his head and explored the wealth of newly bared skin. It was fascinating to him, each tiny new detail savored and recorded to his main database. The different textures of the paler skin as to compare to the tiny nipples that hardened when he licked at them and the breathy sound that Sam made when he did it. He tried it again, curiously, sucking lightly on the little nub and this time Sam's hands slipped into his hair, clenching loosely. Again, a little harder and Sam's fingers tightened, his breath catching.
"God, you're mean," Sam whispered.
Mean? Bumblebee considered that. Mean as an adjective, relating to cruelty...ah. Cruel to tease, perhaps. He hadn't meant to tease.
"Humans like to rush things." He moved lower to whisper it against Sam's belly, felt the rising heat coming from lower still. The soft little hairs beneath his navel seemed to lead Bumblebee in that direction and he obeyed them, pinching them in his lips to feel Sam tremble at the touch.
"Robots like to...oh, god!" Sam's retort was cut off as Bumblebee cupped him through his pants and squeezed firmly. Such a human thing he was holding in his hand, penis, cock, dick, tallywacker, dozens and dozens of euphemisms pouring through his data processors, in a dozen languages. The central point of pleasure in the human male and Bumblebee shifted so that his replication of it could press against Sam's thigh, rubbing just enough so Sam could feel it. Not quite real in the way Sam was, but it was what Bumblebee had to offer, the only way he could express his very true desire to this life form.
So delicate. He measured it against his palm through the rapidly heating denim. Humans were all so delicate, bones and blood and messy organics. Only a few months ago in human time he would have been a little disgusted to even consider doing anything like this. And here he was, pressing a warm, all-too-sweet little human down so that he could rip open the fly of his pants and truly touch, pressing his nose against the soft nest of hair and process all the scents involved. Pheromones and sweat, salt-warm and all distinctive to this one human, who was gasping now, gulping in air and his hands were clenched in Bumblebee's hair in a way that would have hurt him if he had been human. As it was, he relished the tiny pain that his sensors expressed to him in the way a human would feel it. He wanted to feel all of this like Sam would; that, at least, they could share.
There were approximately 260 million webpages on the internet with erotic content on the World Wide Web and Bumblebee had accessed all of them with a sense of distant curiosity and disdain. He had never imagined putting that information to good use.
The head of Sam's cock was in near perfect proportion with the average size of the rest of it. Bumblebee processed that fact distantly, most of his senses caught up in trying to suck it properly, pressing his tongue into the little slit at the tip. The lovely little sounds Sam was making, strangled and base, indicated that he was doing it properly. Gentle suction combined with pressure and tongue motion. He didn't envy the humans who attempted this.
It was over far too quickly but not unexpectedly. Bumblebee was aware that Sam and Mikaela had never attempted this and teenage human males were not noted for their longevity. The hot spurt of semen over his tongue was gratifying on its own, his receptors analyzing it immediately and storing all the information about it, from temperature to a chemical profile. After all, he couldn't mimic something without knowing what made it up.
Sam was trembling, sweat-slick and fragile in more ways than only physical, Bumblebee sensed. He crawled up the bed to crouch over him, kissing the sweaty mass of his hair, his eyes, his lips. Felt the hesitant flinch away from Bumblebee's probing tongue before he accepted it, surely tasting himself on Bumblebee's mouth. It's all right, Bee wanted to tell him. It's all right, it's you, and every piece of you is precious to me.
He was rushing this. Bumblebee knew it with grim certainty. Ratchet might make jokes about simulated matings but it was no such thing to the young, so young, human in his arms. They hadn't even known each other long at all, not as humans reckon things and certainly not as Autobots did. But it felt like an age.
Sam's interest had been unmistakable. Inexperienced as Bumblebee was in the ways of organics, he was certainly aware enough to notice the signs of attraction in another. Humans and Autobots were not so different in that. The voice, the expressions, the gestures that came with it were terribly similar and he had known from the beginning, even if Sam had not.
And that had kept him from encouraging it. Bumblebee had even tried to better Sam's relationship with Mikaela, would have done nearly anything by then to help him gain happiness. Bumblebee would have been content to take his own satisfaction in that. Not dictated by physical urges as humans were, friendship was a perfectly acceptable alternative.
Then Sam had asked on his own, had taken the steps that Bumblebee hadn't dared to contemplate even in the deepest portion of his processors. And all because of Barricade. It was a peculiar irony; he had never thought he'd owe a debt to a Decepticon for anything but certainly not for their penchant for cruelty.
But it was still desperately new. Sam hadn't even consciously considered doing this until last night. Not even sixteen hours ago he had been kissing his girlfriend goodnight.
So caught up in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice at first that Sam was kissing his way lower, obviously intent on reciprocation. Bumblebee caught his chin lightly and stopped him, licking softly at his mouth.
"You don't have to do that." If he was horrified by the idea of standing next to dead receptors, Bumblebee didn't envision he'd appreciate ingesting them.
"I do." Stubborn, yes, that was another trait that Sam shared with many Autobots, including the one he was in bed with. "Unless--" Sam faltered a moment before his expression firmed. "Unless you'd rather fuck me?"
The last time Bumblebee had been rendered so speechless was when his vocal processors had been torn from his throat.
"Do you want to?" And Bumblebee wasn't sure where Sam had learned that coy little head tilt but he suddenly had to urge to kill anyone else who might have possibly seen it.
"Yes," he finally managed. Oh, yes. When an Autobot interfaced with another of their kind, it began with a connection. Humans were so very different; much of their mating came before and Bumblebee had struggled with it. His sensors cried for that connection and the sense of completion that came with it. Without it, he felt like a program was endlessly looping even as he basked in the anticipation.
It made it too easy to roll Sam over onto his belly, to finish pulling off his pants and leave him with nothing but warm, bare skin that was waiting for him. His database helpfully provided all the reasons this was a bad idea. Sam had just lost the equivalent of his entire life, he had been physically assaulted not twenty-four hours before, he was young, so terribly young.
Bumblebee cut it off ruthlessly. Perhaps he wasn't so different from the simi-lovers as he'd thought. But Sam had already given up so much because of them, unwillingly or not. He'd given up nearly any attempt of a normal human life simply by having a page on Ebay. I'll make it worth it, Sam, he promised in silence, etching it deeply into his data backup. I'll make it worth everything.
His receptors could provide him with a small amount his own lubricant, wonderfully slippery, and it was strange to feel it from this side rather than internally, rubbing his fingers together. Ever so lightly, he touched the small of Sam's back, rubbing in an approximation of a soothing manner. The muscles beneath his hands relaxed, tension that Sam was probably unaware of easing away, only to return slightly as Bumblebee's fingers dipped lower, into the very top of the cleft of his backside.
Virgin. That was the human word for it in Sam's portion of his world, and how strange that all humans spoke different languages. Virgin was a word that Bumblebee would hardly equate to himself in Autobot terms but as far as human matings went, he and Sam were on a level playing field. Except for the fact that Bee had terabytes of information available to him concerning this very act and all of it told him to be gentle, to be slow, pressing only one finger inside at a time and, oh...again, it was nothing like he might have expected. Hot, tight flesh clenching around his single finger and Sam made a little sound that might have been interpreted as discomfort but according to his pheromones was something else entirely.
Fear.
Bumblebee slipped down to lie next to him, wrapping his free arm awkwardly around Sam's neck from the front so he could pull him closer, whispering against the sensitive skin of his ear. "I would never hurt you, Sam."
The pressure around his finger relaxed minutely, the slickness easing his passage and he pressed deeper, feeling for the place that hundreds of text files spoke of. Knew he found it when the sound of Sam's gasps changed and the cant of his hips moved towards his touch. Bee pressed it again, then again, eager to hear those soft little sounds. Just this much he could have, just this much of a connection to ease that growing restlessness, endlessly searching for a connection that wasn't quite within his reach.
"Bee," Sam groaned, pushing back on his fingers and Bumblebee interpreted that as a plea for more, adding another finger. The stretch was a little harder, the pressure more difficult to circumnavigate but Sam didn't flinch away, arching into it even though it was surely uncomfortable. Pleasure mixed with pain, a concept that Bumblebee had never had the opportunity to explore and didn't care to now. All his senses where swamped with Sam, the scent of him, chemical analysis so distant he was hardly aware of it. The physical sight of him, flushed and sweating, the redness of his lips, parted with his harsh breathing and humans were far from Bumblebee's concept of beauty and yet Sam was. Oh, he was.
"Enough, Bumblebee," Sam panted out, whimpering as Bee pushed his fingers in again just to feel that sweet stretch easing.
"It's too soon," Bee frowned. The data was very specific and this was too fast, far too--
"Oh, God!"
Too soon, they were rushing this, rushing--
"Ah, that's so good..."
Sam was afraid, he could detect the sharper chemical scent of fear mixed with arousal pheromones--
"Please!"
Bee closed his eyes to cut off the visual. "Yes, Sam."
It was easier to simply make his clothes disappear, less strain on his power cells to keep maintaining them. He stroked a slick hand over his own penis, hissed at the feeling of it. His receptors were giving him an approximation of human sensation and if Sam felt only half as good as this...it was easier than he thought to sprawl between Sam's legs, positioning himself and the skin beneath his was so hot and soft. He pressed a kiss between Sam's shoulder blades and then pressed against that one place where humans could allow a connection.
Tight, so tight, and Bumblebee pressed a little harder, not daring to force his way inside. "Sam, you must relax or this will be...uncomfortable." He didn't say hurt, couldn't, no matter how true it might be. He would make it not be true.
Sam was shaking beneath him, his hands clenched tightly in the bedsheets but he nodded a little, and the impossible tightness eased a little, just enough for Bee to press barely inside.
"Ohh!" Bumblebee had no idea which one of them moaned, only knew that he couldn't hold back from the connection anymore, pushing deeply inside that hot, slick tightness and no, he had more control than this, no, he couldn't hurt him. Sam was writhing beneath him, crying out, couldn't hurt him. Except Sam was pushing back against him, demanding wordlessly and Bumblebee was finding that he was helpless against giving Sam everything he wanted. Especially this.
Pulling back a little, Bumblebee grasped Sam's hips and guided him to his knees. Easier this way, yes, but if he'd known how much deeper he could get, that perfect tightness swallowing him up, yes, yes.
"Yes," Bee moaned aloud. Needing Sam to know he was enjoying this as much, that the connection was complete, all his senses clamoring with joy and demanding more, more. A deep thrust and Sam made a sound that was close to a yowl, one of his hands flailing beneath him so he could stroke himself and Bumblebee quickly batted that hand away, wanting to feel this himself. All of it, the hot clasp of Sam around him, the hot, damp skin of his cock in the palm of his hand as he stroked him roughly in the way Sam was begging him for. It was so better, so much better than anything he could have considered.
Red warnings clamored in his vision and he backed off his receptors, desperately trying not to overload them again. Not now, not now, not this time, almost too much, riding the edge of excess and he was lost in his own pleasure, barely feeling the rush of Sam's orgasm in slick, messy heat in his hand. It was there, it was coming and...there.
Connection.
By the time his sensors powered back up, Sam had managed to get out from under him and was watching him with a bemused expression. "Are you going to do that every time we have sex? Because if you are, I am so on top next time."
"I hadn't planned on doing it at all," Bumblebee admitted awkwardly, well aware that Ratchet would know exactly what had happened. There was a conversation to look forward to.
Sam looked entirely too pleased with himself. Bumblebee supposed he had a right, if he considered a power overload to be the equivalent of a human passing out. Perhaps it was. "Did I hurt you?" Bee asked suddenly, abruptly aware that this was not something Sam had done before, even with another human. Virgin, virgin, no longer.
"If you did, you can do it again sometime," Sam yawned. "That was intense."
"Yes," Bee murmured, watching him. He was not normally loquacious and somehow this had robbed him of any words he might have said. Several thousand possibilities were turning around thoughtfully in his processors but none seemed to be just right. If Sam were an Autobot, words would have been unnecessary. He would have known everything that couldn't be expressed in so poor a fashion, he would have known...and Bumblebee wouldn't have just received a signal for imminent power failure.
"Sam...I can't...stay...power..." His voice receptors dissolved into static, and his vision was dimming. If he'd had the power supply left, he would have cursed with frustration. This was not what was supposed to happen in a post-coital situation with a human.
"It's okay, go, go." Sam stretched luxuriously and Bumblebee snatched the video of it as quickly as he could and sent it to his main data processors. Not wanting Sam to simply see the holographic projection vanish into a sparkling dust of dead receptors, Bumblebee could only kiss him quickly and dash out of the room, dissolving it behind a plant near the stairwell where Sam would be unlikely to see it. His own permanent sensors surged back online and he was abruptly back in himself, his car form scanning instantly for any signs of danger. Ratchet was still parked next to him and Bumblebee stifled a groan.
"We should depart soon. Is he coming?" Ratchet said, no indication that he'd been scanning them.
"Yes," Bumblebee said hesitantly. "Ratchet--"
"Not now, we need to get going," Ratchet said bluntly. "We will be discussing this later."
"Yes, sir."
A loud sigh. "Never take care of yourself," Ratchet said with some wry amusement and it made Bee relax, just a little. His sensors indicated the Sam was coming out of the house and he did, a backpack slung over his shoulder and walking markedly slowly. Bumblebee started scanning him immediately, terrified he’d done him some injury. He startled when the diagnostic program shut down on its own.
--He’s fine-Ratchet sent to him over the wifi. Of course, Ratchet was the only Autobot who had access to the other’s system files. -Now conserve what is left of your energy, we have some traveling to do.-
-I was only...- Defensive, Ratchet called him that before, but he couldn’t seem to help it when it concerned Sam.
--I know you were ‘only’-Amused, --But the boy is fine, despite your enthusiasm. Let him be.-
--You..!-
--I-- Ratchet sent deliberately, --Have nothing wrong with my hearing sensors. And you were both very loud.--
"We ready to get out of here?" Sam said brightly. His nervous glance at Ratchet was not unnoticed but he said nothing, only climbing into the seat when Bumblebee opened the door. His glance at his home was not unnoticed either.
"I'm sorry, Sam," Bumblebee began. He knew what it was like to have to abandon one's home.
"It's all right. Besides, we've got places to be, right?" Strong, yes. So strong and emotion that Bumblebee was loath to identify rose in him. He set it aside in a little-used processing unit for the moment, concentrating on the now instead.
"Yes, we do." Ratchet pulled out in front him them, leaving Bumblebee and Sam to follow as they headed out to meet the other Autobots. And anything else that they might encounter.
-finis-
Next Chapter
by Keelywolfe
Bumblebee/Sam
Rated NC-17
Summary: A Sequel to Forms of Life. It won't make much sense if you don't read that first!
~*~
When Sam had asked him to assist in speaking with his parents, it hadn't even occurred to Bumblebee to refuse. It was only going to be a simple relay of information, then his parents would be escorted to Ironhide who was parked just out of sight of their driveway. He would then take them to the Government agents they had contacted about the recent incident and they would provide new identities for the elder Witwicky's.
The issue would only be complicated by the fact that Sam would not be going with them, but he trusted that Sam would be able to console his parents about that issue. He had stated he was an adult and capable of making decisions regarding his own destiny so therefore, their protests should be minimal.
That had been three hours ago and they still hadn't managed to even bring up that the Witwicky's needed to be leaving. From the moment the door had opened and Sam's mother had seen them, they had in short order been seated at the dining room table, plied with various human food items, and listened to Mrs. Witwicky speak about...anything. Bumblebee's rapidly decharging sensors were having difficulty keeping up.
The new topic of conversation had made Sam's heart rate speed up considerably.
"I never did think that she was right for you," his mother was saying. "A lovely girl, of course--"
"Mom, I am not gay," Sam's words were muffled by his hands over his face.
"Now, dear, you know your father and I are very open-minded, and you should know we don't mind you bringing your boyfriend over for breakfast."
"Bumblebee is not my boyfriend!"
"Bumblebee," she repeated brightly. "What an interesting name, are you in a band?"
Startled to have the conversation directed towards him, Bumblebee fumbled for something to say, stammering out, "I...no...I mean--"
"I'm sure your parents must be fascinating people."
His receptors in the hologram were sending him warning flashes of imminent power failure. This was taking entirely too long.
Pulling out a wallet that he'd just fabricated, Bumblebee flashed them a very good reproduction of one of the badges he'd seen the government officials had. "Mrs. Witwicky, I'm sorry to intrude on you this morning, but we have a crisis on our hands at the moment and for your own safety, we need you and your husband to come with us."
All three of the Witwickys were staring at him now. "What--we were just--" It seemed he'd finally found a way to catch Sam's mother off-guard.
"Terrorism is a major concern in our country right now, as you know," Bumblebee continued smoothly, managing to get Mrs. Witwicky to her feet and urging her towards the front door. "And we appreciate any and all assistance our citizens provide."
"Of course we want to help the country," Sam's father sputtered, following along behind them. A few moments of persuasion and both of the bewildered and protesting adults were seated in Ironhide's backseat, his holographic driver scowling at Bumblebee as he waved at their departing forms.
Standing in the driveway, Sam was staring at him incredulously. "What the hell was that, Mister Government Agent?!"
"I panicked!" Bumblebee said defensively. "Besides, they weren't likely to believe it without seeing one of us in our robotic form and you said that you didn't want any more robots in your backyard. Too awkward to explain to the neighbors were your words, I believe."
"So it was better to pretend you were with the FBI??" Sam said, disbelieving.
"It was National Security. I'm sure Ironhide will explain everything when they reach their destination."
"Oh, yeah, because Ironhide is big on conversation."
Bumblebee decided to ignore that on the principle that Sam was entirely too correct. "They survived their previous incarceration with minimal trauma and we will set up a secure line so you can contact them in the next few days."
That finally seemed to mollify him. "I guess we really did need to get them out of here."
"Yes, it was for their own safety," Bumblebee latched on to the idea gratefully. Of course, their safety had been foremost in his thought processors. Really. It had. Still..."Your mother is very confusing."
Sam snorted. "Tell me about it. Well, do we have time for me to grab a few things? I know the government goons are going to come pack up everything else but there's a couple things I'd like to take."
"Yes, but I'm afraid you'll have to do it on your own. My receptors are dying."
Sam's heart rate and blood pressure spiked so high that an alarm blared in his sensory output. "You're dying?"
"No, no, of course not. Only the receptors I used to make the hologram." Sam did not appear to be reassured. "They are constantly being replaced in my system normally, similar to your red blood cells. It affects me no differently than if you were to donate blood. As they have no power source of their own, being separated from me eventually drains them."
"So I'm standing next to floating dead pieces of you?" Sam wrinkled his nose.
Bumblebee decided to try a new facial expression he'd read about and rolled his eyes. It was surprisingly satisfying. "You humans leave pieces of dead skin and hair littered all over your world and I have yet to hear a complaint."
"Yeah, yeah, get back outside and reconnect or whatever before you croak."
"Don't take too long," he cautioned.
He stayed long enough to watch Sam run up the stairs to his bedroom before he stepped outside and into his car form, allowing the hologram to dissolve and the receptors to rejoin his system the moment he was certain no humans were watching. He set them immediately to scanning the area, checking for any sign of the Decepticons. They had been hiding very well and he doubted they would attack so bluntly in the middle of the day for something so base as revenge, but it was unwise to assume anything where Decepticons were concerned. Especially considering the attack the night before.
It was what the humans called luck, what an Autobot would consider a particularly remarkable coincident, that they had been on their way back to the city when he had received Sam's signal. Bumblebee had Optimus to thank for that. He had noticed Bumblebee's discomfort in leaving his charge alone for so long and had ended their work for the day early. If he hadn't...it didn't bear considering. He'd already had to shut down his probability calculators because he couldn't stop running the figures on it. 23 minutes later and the probability of death was 98 percent, twelve minutes later, probability of completed torture and rape, with probable fatality, 82 percent...
He felt the energy signature of another Autobot approaching and immediately every firewall he had flew up, his internal security tightening.
"It's a little late for that, don't you think, after your broadcast last night," Ratchet said, jovially.
It was, rather -- trust Ratchet to bring it up. He left the firewalls in place nonetheless, not desiring a repeat performance. Sam had been horrified enough last night when Bumblebee had been teasing him. He'd probably not be happy to discover it had been half truth. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that to Sam."
"Oh, of course, of course. A shame though. It was fascinating to see a species not having to complete their mating act to enjoy it. I had a few questions I would have liked to ask him."
"Ratchet!" Bumblebee hissed.
"Oh, come now," Ratchet chuckled. "You must know that we all cut you off when we realized it was an unintentional transmission. Only I kept minimal contact and you are aware of my reasons."
"Just don't mention it to him, all right?"
"I already said I wouldn't." If Ratchet had had eyebrows, they would have been raised. "You seem very defensive about a simple act of simulated mating with an organic species. Although, I certainly never took you for a simi."
Bumblebee bristled instantly at the slur. Many 'bots assumed holos of other species, out of curiosity or investigation but there were those who took it too far, immersing themselves for their own pleasure, to the detriment of the other species. He snapped out, "I would never endanger Sam like that!"
"I am aware of that," Ratchet told him, his voice mod even and cool. "I'd also like to remind you that I have been maintaining your systems since before you were given spark, so I'll ask you to watch your tone."
That he was also Bumblebee's superior was unspoken but true nonetheless. "My apologies. I didn't mean any insult."
"I know," Ratchet's tone was considerably warmer. "What I was trying to say, although my choice of words seems to have been poor, is that since you are unfamiliar with simulated mating, you need to be cautious until you become accustomed. I saw that you had a power shutdown last night."
"Yes," he mumbled, embarrassment returning.
"Was it detrimental to any of your systems?"
"No, it just required a reboot."
"Mmhmm. And you ran a diagnostic?"
"Of course," he said, exasperated.
"Can't blame me for asking," Ratchet said bluntly. "You never take proper care of yourself."
"I have you for that," Bumblebee said, only partly teasing.
Ratchet made a harrumphing noise. "Yes, yes. It is interesting, though, that most humans do place great value on their privacy. I've come to realize that the select few on the internet are an anomaly."
"Yes."
"Sam in particular is cautious about his sexual proclivities."
"Yes, he is," Bumblebee gritted out, not at all liking this direction of conversation.
Ratchet didn't seem inclined to give it up. "He would be uncomfortable, I assume, were you to engage him in the company of the other Autobots."
"I would imagine so."
"And Optimus and the others will be meeting us outside the city," Ratchet's tone was infinitely patient. "It may be some time before you are able to be alone again."
Dawning awareness and if he'd had hands at the moment, one of them would have been slapping his forehead.
"Go after the boy, fool." Affectionately. "I shall stand guard."
It was an easy matter to concentrate into shifting his visual and sensory perceptions into a temporary human form, letting his backup sensors shifts down into a secondary position on guard. Without even a backwards glance at Ratchet, Bumblebee returned to the house and followed Sam up the stairs. When he walked silently into the room, Sam was leaning down to look under his bed, a position that put his backside as the most accessible part of his body. There was temptation there, and wariness, the new aspect of their relationship still fragile as a newly created energon cube and filled with strange conventions and rules that Bumblebee was still studying. There was at least a forty percent chance that Sam would react poorly the concept he was exploring.
But then, Bumblebee had always preferred to ride the edge of probability.
Stepping forward, he cupped Sam's hips in his hands and rocked his own against Sam's backside suggestively.
Shock/fear/surprise flared along with Sam's heartrate as he jerked away and spun around, all of them turning to irritation/*arousal*/ confusion/*arousal* as he saw who it was.
"You asshole, you scared the hell out of me!" Sam gave him a halfhearted shove.
"I'm sorry, Sam," Bumblebee gave him a wide eyed look that he had interpreted in others as innocence.
Sam scowled at him. "Oh, please, don't even try that. You totally meant to do that."
"Yes," he agreed. He also meant it when he pushed Sam down onto the bed despite his startled protest, gently holding him still for a kiss. Again, there was that peculiar mixture of fear/shock/*arousal* detectable in his pheromones. But arousal was the strongest by far.
It was so strange, this form of sensory input. He could feel things in his natural form, of course. He needed to be able to feel to adjust machinery and weapons and pain was only a way for damaged receptors to transmit their injuries. Pleasure was reserved for the internal, a melding of two sparks that became one in a way that organics could only crudely replicate.
This, with Sam, was so very different. He could mimic the sensation that all organics used to feel easily but he had never before had the desire to try, reserving it for those life forms who couldn't properly meld and the simis who only wished to slum around with beings that they deemed lesser.
Before Sam, he'd never understood the simple desire to touch. Bumblebee wanted to touch him, hold him, capturing Sam's wrists in his hands and pinning him gently to the bed. The skin on the inside of his arm was petal-soft, the thrum of Sam's pulse pattering wildly against it. His mouth was wet, a different kind of soft and Bumblebee had never known that there were different kinds of soft. That the lobe of a human ear was the perfect tenderness to caress with a tongue, that Sam would gasp when he did it, arching his hips up in a wordless plea. Bumblebee had never even known that he could want to do this. Crude, yes, strange, yes, but powerful in a way that his processors had never conceived.
More than that, he wanted to make Sam feel it as well.
"Should we be doing this?" Sam's protest was less than half-hearted, his hands pulling free of Bumblebee's loose grip to slid under his t-shirt, slim fingers skimming over Bumblebee's form in a way that made him shudder, his eyes slipping shut.
"Ratchet is standing guard," he murmured against Sam's throat, licking that one place where he could feel the pulse thrumming, quick and steady. He felt it the moment Sam realized what he'd said, the pulse fluttering in an indication of shock.
"You told Ratchet that you were coming upstairs to have sex with me?" He sounded truly horrified and Bumblebee was quick to correct him.
"Of course not." He left out that it was rather the opposite.
It was easy enough to coax him back down, his dark eyes slipping shut as Bumblebee slipped Sam's shirt over his head and explored the wealth of newly bared skin. It was fascinating to him, each tiny new detail savored and recorded to his main database. The different textures of the paler skin as to compare to the tiny nipples that hardened when he licked at them and the breathy sound that Sam made when he did it. He tried it again, curiously, sucking lightly on the little nub and this time Sam's hands slipped into his hair, clenching loosely. Again, a little harder and Sam's fingers tightened, his breath catching.
"God, you're mean," Sam whispered.
Mean? Bumblebee considered that. Mean as an adjective, relating to cruelty...ah. Cruel to tease, perhaps. He hadn't meant to tease.
"Humans like to rush things." He moved lower to whisper it against Sam's belly, felt the rising heat coming from lower still. The soft little hairs beneath his navel seemed to lead Bumblebee in that direction and he obeyed them, pinching them in his lips to feel Sam tremble at the touch.
"Robots like to...oh, god!" Sam's retort was cut off as Bumblebee cupped him through his pants and squeezed firmly. Such a human thing he was holding in his hand, penis, cock, dick, tallywacker, dozens and dozens of euphemisms pouring through his data processors, in a dozen languages. The central point of pleasure in the human male and Bumblebee shifted so that his replication of it could press against Sam's thigh, rubbing just enough so Sam could feel it. Not quite real in the way Sam was, but it was what Bumblebee had to offer, the only way he could express his very true desire to this life form.
So delicate. He measured it against his palm through the rapidly heating denim. Humans were all so delicate, bones and blood and messy organics. Only a few months ago in human time he would have been a little disgusted to even consider doing anything like this. And here he was, pressing a warm, all-too-sweet little human down so that he could rip open the fly of his pants and truly touch, pressing his nose against the soft nest of hair and process all the scents involved. Pheromones and sweat, salt-warm and all distinctive to this one human, who was gasping now, gulping in air and his hands were clenched in Bumblebee's hair in a way that would have hurt him if he had been human. As it was, he relished the tiny pain that his sensors expressed to him in the way a human would feel it. He wanted to feel all of this like Sam would; that, at least, they could share.
There were approximately 260 million webpages on the internet with erotic content on the World Wide Web and Bumblebee had accessed all of them with a sense of distant curiosity and disdain. He had never imagined putting that information to good use.
The head of Sam's cock was in near perfect proportion with the average size of the rest of it. Bumblebee processed that fact distantly, most of his senses caught up in trying to suck it properly, pressing his tongue into the little slit at the tip. The lovely little sounds Sam was making, strangled and base, indicated that he was doing it properly. Gentle suction combined with pressure and tongue motion. He didn't envy the humans who attempted this.
It was over far too quickly but not unexpectedly. Bumblebee was aware that Sam and Mikaela had never attempted this and teenage human males were not noted for their longevity. The hot spurt of semen over his tongue was gratifying on its own, his receptors analyzing it immediately and storing all the information about it, from temperature to a chemical profile. After all, he couldn't mimic something without knowing what made it up.
Sam was trembling, sweat-slick and fragile in more ways than only physical, Bumblebee sensed. He crawled up the bed to crouch over him, kissing the sweaty mass of his hair, his eyes, his lips. Felt the hesitant flinch away from Bumblebee's probing tongue before he accepted it, surely tasting himself on Bumblebee's mouth. It's all right, Bee wanted to tell him. It's all right, it's you, and every piece of you is precious to me.
He was rushing this. Bumblebee knew it with grim certainty. Ratchet might make jokes about simulated matings but it was no such thing to the young, so young, human in his arms. They hadn't even known each other long at all, not as humans reckon things and certainly not as Autobots did. But it felt like an age.
Sam's interest had been unmistakable. Inexperienced as Bumblebee was in the ways of organics, he was certainly aware enough to notice the signs of attraction in another. Humans and Autobots were not so different in that. The voice, the expressions, the gestures that came with it were terribly similar and he had known from the beginning, even if Sam had not.
And that had kept him from encouraging it. Bumblebee had even tried to better Sam's relationship with Mikaela, would have done nearly anything by then to help him gain happiness. Bumblebee would have been content to take his own satisfaction in that. Not dictated by physical urges as humans were, friendship was a perfectly acceptable alternative.
Then Sam had asked on his own, had taken the steps that Bumblebee hadn't dared to contemplate even in the deepest portion of his processors. And all because of Barricade. It was a peculiar irony; he had never thought he'd owe a debt to a Decepticon for anything but certainly not for their penchant for cruelty.
But it was still desperately new. Sam hadn't even consciously considered doing this until last night. Not even sixteen hours ago he had been kissing his girlfriend goodnight.
So caught up in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice at first that Sam was kissing his way lower, obviously intent on reciprocation. Bumblebee caught his chin lightly and stopped him, licking softly at his mouth.
"You don't have to do that." If he was horrified by the idea of standing next to dead receptors, Bumblebee didn't envision he'd appreciate ingesting them.
"I do." Stubborn, yes, that was another trait that Sam shared with many Autobots, including the one he was in bed with. "Unless--" Sam faltered a moment before his expression firmed. "Unless you'd rather fuck me?"
The last time Bumblebee had been rendered so speechless was when his vocal processors had been torn from his throat.
"Do you want to?" And Bumblebee wasn't sure where Sam had learned that coy little head tilt but he suddenly had to urge to kill anyone else who might have possibly seen it.
"Yes," he finally managed. Oh, yes. When an Autobot interfaced with another of their kind, it began with a connection. Humans were so very different; much of their mating came before and Bumblebee had struggled with it. His sensors cried for that connection and the sense of completion that came with it. Without it, he felt like a program was endlessly looping even as he basked in the anticipation.
It made it too easy to roll Sam over onto his belly, to finish pulling off his pants and leave him with nothing but warm, bare skin that was waiting for him. His database helpfully provided all the reasons this was a bad idea. Sam had just lost the equivalent of his entire life, he had been physically assaulted not twenty-four hours before, he was young, so terribly young.
Bumblebee cut it off ruthlessly. Perhaps he wasn't so different from the simi-lovers as he'd thought. But Sam had already given up so much because of them, unwillingly or not. He'd given up nearly any attempt of a normal human life simply by having a page on Ebay. I'll make it worth it, Sam, he promised in silence, etching it deeply into his data backup. I'll make it worth everything.
His receptors could provide him with a small amount his own lubricant, wonderfully slippery, and it was strange to feel it from this side rather than internally, rubbing his fingers together. Ever so lightly, he touched the small of Sam's back, rubbing in an approximation of a soothing manner. The muscles beneath his hands relaxed, tension that Sam was probably unaware of easing away, only to return slightly as Bumblebee's fingers dipped lower, into the very top of the cleft of his backside.
Virgin. That was the human word for it in Sam's portion of his world, and how strange that all humans spoke different languages. Virgin was a word that Bumblebee would hardly equate to himself in Autobot terms but as far as human matings went, he and Sam were on a level playing field. Except for the fact that Bee had terabytes of information available to him concerning this very act and all of it told him to be gentle, to be slow, pressing only one finger inside at a time and, oh...again, it was nothing like he might have expected. Hot, tight flesh clenching around his single finger and Sam made a little sound that might have been interpreted as discomfort but according to his pheromones was something else entirely.
Fear.
Bumblebee slipped down to lie next to him, wrapping his free arm awkwardly around Sam's neck from the front so he could pull him closer, whispering against the sensitive skin of his ear. "I would never hurt you, Sam."
The pressure around his finger relaxed minutely, the slickness easing his passage and he pressed deeper, feeling for the place that hundreds of text files spoke of. Knew he found it when the sound of Sam's gasps changed and the cant of his hips moved towards his touch. Bee pressed it again, then again, eager to hear those soft little sounds. Just this much he could have, just this much of a connection to ease that growing restlessness, endlessly searching for a connection that wasn't quite within his reach.
"Bee," Sam groaned, pushing back on his fingers and Bumblebee interpreted that as a plea for more, adding another finger. The stretch was a little harder, the pressure more difficult to circumnavigate but Sam didn't flinch away, arching into it even though it was surely uncomfortable. Pleasure mixed with pain, a concept that Bumblebee had never had the opportunity to explore and didn't care to now. All his senses where swamped with Sam, the scent of him, chemical analysis so distant he was hardly aware of it. The physical sight of him, flushed and sweating, the redness of his lips, parted with his harsh breathing and humans were far from Bumblebee's concept of beauty and yet Sam was. Oh, he was.
"Enough, Bumblebee," Sam panted out, whimpering as Bee pushed his fingers in again just to feel that sweet stretch easing.
"It's too soon," Bee frowned. The data was very specific and this was too fast, far too--
"Oh, God!"
Too soon, they were rushing this, rushing--
"Ah, that's so good..."
Sam was afraid, he could detect the sharper chemical scent of fear mixed with arousal pheromones--
"Please!"
Bee closed his eyes to cut off the visual. "Yes, Sam."
It was easier to simply make his clothes disappear, less strain on his power cells to keep maintaining them. He stroked a slick hand over his own penis, hissed at the feeling of it. His receptors were giving him an approximation of human sensation and if Sam felt only half as good as this...it was easier than he thought to sprawl between Sam's legs, positioning himself and the skin beneath his was so hot and soft. He pressed a kiss between Sam's shoulder blades and then pressed against that one place where humans could allow a connection.
Tight, so tight, and Bumblebee pressed a little harder, not daring to force his way inside. "Sam, you must relax or this will be...uncomfortable." He didn't say hurt, couldn't, no matter how true it might be. He would make it not be true.
Sam was shaking beneath him, his hands clenched tightly in the bedsheets but he nodded a little, and the impossible tightness eased a little, just enough for Bee to press barely inside.
"Ohh!" Bumblebee had no idea which one of them moaned, only knew that he couldn't hold back from the connection anymore, pushing deeply inside that hot, slick tightness and no, he had more control than this, no, he couldn't hurt him. Sam was writhing beneath him, crying out, couldn't hurt him. Except Sam was pushing back against him, demanding wordlessly and Bumblebee was finding that he was helpless against giving Sam everything he wanted. Especially this.
Pulling back a little, Bumblebee grasped Sam's hips and guided him to his knees. Easier this way, yes, but if he'd known how much deeper he could get, that perfect tightness swallowing him up, yes, yes.
"Yes," Bee moaned aloud. Needing Sam to know he was enjoying this as much, that the connection was complete, all his senses clamoring with joy and demanding more, more. A deep thrust and Sam made a sound that was close to a yowl, one of his hands flailing beneath him so he could stroke himself and Bumblebee quickly batted that hand away, wanting to feel this himself. All of it, the hot clasp of Sam around him, the hot, damp skin of his cock in the palm of his hand as he stroked him roughly in the way Sam was begging him for. It was so better, so much better than anything he could have considered.
Red warnings clamored in his vision and he backed off his receptors, desperately trying not to overload them again. Not now, not now, not this time, almost too much, riding the edge of excess and he was lost in his own pleasure, barely feeling the rush of Sam's orgasm in slick, messy heat in his hand. It was there, it was coming and...there.
Connection.
By the time his sensors powered back up, Sam had managed to get out from under him and was watching him with a bemused expression. "Are you going to do that every time we have sex? Because if you are, I am so on top next time."
"I hadn't planned on doing it at all," Bumblebee admitted awkwardly, well aware that Ratchet would know exactly what had happened. There was a conversation to look forward to.
Sam looked entirely too pleased with himself. Bumblebee supposed he had a right, if he considered a power overload to be the equivalent of a human passing out. Perhaps it was. "Did I hurt you?" Bee asked suddenly, abruptly aware that this was not something Sam had done before, even with another human. Virgin, virgin, no longer.
"If you did, you can do it again sometime," Sam yawned. "That was intense."
"Yes," Bee murmured, watching him. He was not normally loquacious and somehow this had robbed him of any words he might have said. Several thousand possibilities were turning around thoughtfully in his processors but none seemed to be just right. If Sam were an Autobot, words would have been unnecessary. He would have known everything that couldn't be expressed in so poor a fashion, he would have known...and Bumblebee wouldn't have just received a signal for imminent power failure.
"Sam...I can't...stay...power..." His voice receptors dissolved into static, and his vision was dimming. If he'd had the power supply left, he would have cursed with frustration. This was not what was supposed to happen in a post-coital situation with a human.
"It's okay, go, go." Sam stretched luxuriously and Bumblebee snatched the video of it as quickly as he could and sent it to his main data processors. Not wanting Sam to simply see the holographic projection vanish into a sparkling dust of dead receptors, Bumblebee could only kiss him quickly and dash out of the room, dissolving it behind a plant near the stairwell where Sam would be unlikely to see it. His own permanent sensors surged back online and he was abruptly back in himself, his car form scanning instantly for any signs of danger. Ratchet was still parked next to him and Bumblebee stifled a groan.
"We should depart soon. Is he coming?" Ratchet said, no indication that he'd been scanning them.
"Yes," Bumblebee said hesitantly. "Ratchet--"
"Not now, we need to get going," Ratchet said bluntly. "We will be discussing this later."
"Yes, sir."
A loud sigh. "Never take care of yourself," Ratchet said with some wry amusement and it made Bee relax, just a little. His sensors indicated the Sam was coming out of the house and he did, a backpack slung over his shoulder and walking markedly slowly. Bumblebee started scanning him immediately, terrified he’d done him some injury. He startled when the diagnostic program shut down on its own.
--He’s fine-Ratchet sent to him over the wifi. Of course, Ratchet was the only Autobot who had access to the other’s system files. -Now conserve what is left of your energy, we have some traveling to do.-
-I was only...- Defensive, Ratchet called him that before, but he couldn’t seem to help it when it concerned Sam.
--I know you were ‘only’-Amused, --But the boy is fine, despite your enthusiasm. Let him be.-
--You..!-
--I-- Ratchet sent deliberately, --Have nothing wrong with my hearing sensors. And you were both very loud.--
"We ready to get out of here?" Sam said brightly. His nervous glance at Ratchet was not unnoticed but he said nothing, only climbing into the seat when Bumblebee opened the door. His glance at his home was not unnoticed either.
"I'm sorry, Sam," Bumblebee began. He knew what it was like to have to abandon one's home.
"It's all right. Besides, we've got places to be, right?" Strong, yes. So strong and emotion that Bumblebee was loath to identify rose in him. He set it aside in a little-used processing unit for the moment, concentrating on the now instead.
"Yes, we do." Ratchet pulled out in front him them, leaving Bumblebee and Sam to follow as they headed out to meet the other Autobots. And anything else that they might encounter.
-finis-
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