FIC: Nervous System Hypothesis (Bumblebee/Sam, Transformers, Human Series)
I hope no one holds it against me that I haven't had a chance to reply to comments on the previous chapter yet. I thought you'd like this section more. :)
Title: Nervous System Hypothesis
by Keelywolfe
Bumblebee/Sam
Rated NC-17
Summary: A continuation of the ‘human’ series, which are in order:
Forms of Life
Too Human
Experiments in Human Nature
Public Education
Knee-Jerk Reaction
~~*~~
When he woke, for a moment he didn’t know where he was. The room was dark and too-quiet, and the warm contours beneath his head weren’t at all pillow-shaped. Fingers were sifting gently through his hair and it made Sam want to sigh, to close his eyes and let those gentle touches conspire with the quiet and darkness to soothe him back to sleep. Little flickers of memory were filtering back in though, Autobot City, showers…his parents, god-
"Shhh, Sam, I’m right here." Bumblebee’s voice was soft above him.
Sam shuddered a little, turning into the warm lap that his head was resting in. He remembered everything now, his small moment of sleep amnesia chased away. Bumblebee’s gentle touch slipped down the back of his head to his back, rubbing gently. It was difficult to pull away from, more so because Bumblebee seemed reluctant to let him go. Much as he would have loved to curl into Bumblebee’s arms for about the rest of the year, his watch was telling him in pointed glowing numbers that it was one in the afternoon. Pure darkness in the early afternoon was one perk of living in a windowless room. That and, you know, little Decepticons couldn’t creep in at night and do their killing thing.
Sam sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes, blinking harder when the lights came up on dim. Bumblebee was sitting with his back against the headboard, his hands in his lap and he watched Sam with obvious concern. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, it’s cool," Sam said, subdued. "My dad, he just-they’re right to be upset, you know. I should have told them."
"I’m to blame for that," Bumblebee said instantly. "I was the one who misled them before you could tell them the truth."
It almost made Sam smile. Just like Bumblebee, to try to take the hurt away in any way he could. "You’re not. You’re not," he repeated insistently when Bumblebee looked rebellious. "It’s not like you had a lot of choice. I’m pretty sure if your power had run out and you’d dissolved at the kitchen table it would have been worse." He did smile a little then. "Robots are one thing, I’m not sure I could have explained to my mom about my melting boyfriend."
He wasn’t entirely sure why Bumblebee’s entire face lit up or why he suddenly leaned forward to give Sam a warm kiss, but Sam could go with that. Curled his tongue around the warm pressure of Bee’s and for the first time he noticed that little electric tingle he’d gotten with their first few kisses was gone. He didn’t miss it one damned bit, cupping Bee’s face in his hands and deepening the kiss, their breath coming fast between them.
This time it was Bumblebee who pulled back from Sam’s clinging hands. "I’m sorry, I can’t."
It made him remember that Bumblebee had actually only shown up because somehow he’d noticed Sam was upset. "Oh, man, you had work you were supposed to be doing."
"It's all right." He kept his arms around Sam, stroking his back like he was a particularly large housecat.
Sam wasn’t about to be soothed as easy as that, tempting as it was. "Ratchet was already in your face about things," he said, troubled.
"I'll worry about Ratchet." There was a certain grimness to his tone that made Sam bite his lip, but he didn’t ask. "However, I did want to tell you that Optimus sent me a message a short time ago. The human soldiers are working on their portion of the city and Optimus thought perhaps you'd like to assist them. It would give you an opportunity to get to know the other humans who are stationed here. "
"I guess so." Seemed like saving the world didn't get you out of chores forever.
Bumblebee pointedly ignored his lack of enthusiasm. "I think it would be good for you to spend some time with the humans. Much as I enjoy your company, I’m not allowed to remain in it one hundred percent of the time."
"I’d settle for ninety."
"If you decide to go, they’ll be working in Sector C. It’s close to the canteen; you should be able to find it without much difficulty. "
Sam wasn’t as convinced. "All right, I’ll think about it."
"I need to go." Another soft kiss said that need and want were definitely two different things.
"Yeah," Sam breathed, licking at the soft lushness of Bee’s mouth, teeth catching gently on his lower lip, a soft bite that would barely sting a human.
"I need-" Bumblebee crawled over him, pressing him down on the bed, his mouth moving over Sam’s fiercely even as he pushed one leg between Sam’s, his knee pressing unerringly against Sam’s hardening cock. Oh, this was a bad, bad idea, Bee’s tongue stroking his in tender little touches.
"You need to go," Sam managed to pull away a little and he so didn’t mean to tilt his head in such a way that Bee could suck on his neck. Seriously. He didn’t.
"Mmmhhhmmm," mumbled against his neck, the sharp edge of teeth making Sam gasp and squirm, arching up into the sweet pressure of Bumblebee’s knee rocking against him.
"Optimus is going to get mad at you," Sam gasped out.
"Nnnnnn," Bee’s murmured a negative.
"Ratchet is going to-"
Sam didn’t get to finish, his own protest half-voice as Bumblebee pulled abruptly away, scrambling back until he hit the headboard. The way he looked, they might as well have just gone for it. His hair was a sweaty mess, tangled wildly around his head, his lips reddened and parted as harsh breaths tore from his chest. Bee closed his eyes and pushed one hand through his tousled hair.
He took a deep breath, another. "I am sorry, Sam, I didn’t mean to tease."
Sam grinned, shifting up carefully to sit and ignoring the sharp indigo protest in his balls. "Baby, you can tease me like that any time."
He’d meant it as a tease of his own but the way Bee’s eyes suddenly darkened and flicked down to his lips made him inch backwards until he almost fell off the bed.
"Sam-" Low and husky.
"Go, go!" Sam laughed, shooing him away. Duty before wild teenage humping.
Bee pressed his first two fingers to his own lips, kissing them lightly before pressing them to Sam’s. Only after Sam kissed them did he hop off the bed and out the door, leaving Sam to flop back on it. Jesus, please us.
Even if he’d wanted to jerk off, which, okay, he totally did, he wasn’t going to. Some things were worth waiting for, he decided. A glance at his watch told him time had crept by and it was now a quarter past one. Working with the soldiers, Bee had said. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to make himself useful.
~~*~~
Bumblebee was right about one thing; Sector C was pretty easy to find. At least thirty men were working there, carting boxes off of trucks, searching through them, setting up equipment. Sam hung back a bit and watched them, not wanting to get in anyone’s way. It was like a sea of khaki and crew cuts.
A loud shout from his left startled him and he jerked around. "Hey, look who dragged himself out of the bot side!"
A tall black man jogged out from the crowd and over to Sam. "Sir!" He saluted crisply and didn't even wait for Sam to return it. "Hey, man, good to see you!"
"Sergeant Epps," Sam exclaimed, recognizing him. He grinned and shook the offered hand firmly. "I didn't know you were here."
"Yeah, yeah, I asked for this duty, man," Epps grinned proudly. "It’s Master Sergeant now. Fighting off enemy robots is damned good for a promotion. Drop any of those boxes and it’s a size twelve up your ass," he shouted, a chorus of ‘Yes, sir!’s rose from the crowd. "We’re working on getting our new technical center set up today. These guys, man, they have some stuff that would make Steve Jobs piss himself."
"Yeah, I bet." To his surprise, a few of the guys unloading the trucks were wearing t-shirts and jeans. "You guys have civilians working here?"
"Naw, man, some of ‘bots are helping out today. We don't usually ask, but they offered and hey, they can pick up some fucking heavy stuff," Epps said cheerfully, "You can usually tell the 'bots from the men even if they try to go for uniforms, the cheating bastards." It was said with obvious affection.
Sam realized Epps was right. The holograms were stiffer...blank, somehow. None of them moved with Bumblebee's easy grace, though some were obviously better than others.
"Don't know all of them by name," Epps said readily. "But they don't mind. Switch bodies on us like changing clothes, anyway. Some of 'em try on two or three a day. Trying to find a comfortable fit, Ironhide told me."
"Ironhide is here?"
"Over there," He pointed at a tall, burly man who was somewhat reminiscent of Rambo. Yeah, that would be Ironhide. He was gesturing fiercely at the Autobot contingent, probably shouting at them with as much enthusiasm as Epps.
"Hey, I gotta get back to it before they blow something up," Epps was saying.
"Yeah, Optimus said I should come help out."
"Oh, we can put you to work," Epps grinned, slapping him hard enough on the back that Sam lurched forward a step. "Come on, kid, let’s get to it."
Work detail consisted mainly of carrying heavy boxes from the back of a truck and taking them into a building without dropping them, knocking into anyone else, or enduring any threats from anyone large and menacing. It was working out pretty well, if somewhat sweatily, and it hadn’t taken the other soldiers long to get past their wariness of him. After a few awkward salutes and loud encouragement from Epps that they better damn well respect the kid who’d saved all their asses, they’d accepted him cautiously. It was pretty cool, Sam decided, hefting another box into the tech lab. It was heavier than he’d expected and his arms were hot and aching by the time he’d gotten through the door.
"Here, let me help." An unfamiliar hologram plucked the box easily from him, setting it in a stack with others that matched it.
"Thanks," Sam panted, looking up at his helper. He was dressed much like the others, some of whom had waved in greeting to him earlier. Long dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck and dark eyes. He smiled, proving that this particular holo was better done than a few of the others he’d seen.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Samuel Witwicky," he said, his unfamiliar voice smooth and cool.
"Just Sam’s fine." He shook the offered hand, repressing a wince at the inhuman chill. Nothing at all like the warmth that Bumblebee radiated.
"Sam, then. It’s a pleasure to finally meet our savior." He held on to Sam’s hand lightly and seemed not to notice Sam’s slight attempt to pull away. "Yes, our savior," he repeated softly.
"I don’t know about all that," Sam laughed uneasily. "I don’t think I caught your name?"
"Ah, yes, you haven’t seen me in this form, have you," he smiled, eyes gleaming. "You can call me Sideswipe."
"Oh, yeah," Sam brightened, happy to hear a familiar name. "Bumblebee’s talked about you."
"Has he? I’m a little surprised that he would, to you." Something in his tone made Sam want to step back, some bewildering discomfort. A flutter of panic woke in his stomach and he finally twisted his hand away, stepping backwards. He suddenly realized they were the only ones in this part of the building and why that made him uncomfortable, he couldn’t say but he sure as hell wasn’t hanging around it figure it out.
"We better get back to work," Sam said, slowly, taking another careful step back.
"Oh, yes, of course. But first, could you take this box of supplies over to the infirmary? I believe it accidentally got mixed in with the technical equipment."
"Yeah, sure," Sam took it, a little relieved that it was surprisingly light.
Sideswipe brushed past him and Sam shivered again at the chill. "Second building on the left," he called back, rejoining the other workers.
"No problem," Sam muttered, walking outside. That was the guy Bumblebee wanted him to meet? Man, they had some seriously different taste in friends. The infirmary was easy enough to find, the telltale red cross on the door leading the way. It was dark inside, sunlight creeping in from between the slats of the shades. Not open for business yet, he guessed.
There were a couple boxes off to one side and Sam decided that would be a perfect spot for his. He stacked it on top, dusting off his hands and stretching. At least he wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.
A sound startled him, coming from further into the building. He could see another door across the room, light seeping in from underneath. Another sound, someone’s voice, he thought, and okay, this might not be a great idea but maybe they needed whatever was in the box. He might as well let whoever was here know he’d brought it. He’d just turned the knob and opened the door a bare crack when a voice startled him.
"This isn’t working!"
Bumblebee? He almost said it aloud, stifling it at the last moment. What the hell was he doing in the infirmary, had he been hurt? It would be just like him to get injured and not tell Sam about it.
"Bumblebee, you must relax."
That exasperated voice was familiar too, Ratchet. Okay, Bumblebee had totally gotten himself hurt. Sam slipped silently into the room, which was filled with racks of medical supplies and boxes. Pretty weird place to be treating an injury and way too small for even Bumblebee in his robot form but what the hell else could they be doing in here?
"Just relax; I'm not going to hurt you." Soothing, or apparently as soothing as Ratchet could get. For a medical officer, Sam had noticed that his bedside manner could be a little lacking. When he’d repaired Bumblebee’s legs some months ago, he’d been just as likely to smack Bee on the back of the head for his impatience as he had been to offer a pain blocker.
"I'm not worried about you hurting me," Gritted out and it certainly sounded like Ratchet was hurting him. Sam stepped cautiously closer, trying to get to a place where he could see and-
Oh, god.
It was like a flash bulb in his head, a hot snap so sharp that for a moment, Sam forgot how to breathe. Couldn’t even comprehend what he was seeing, much less understand it. Bumblebee and Ratchet, both in their holo forms but Bumblebee was naked, Ratchet behind him, jerking him off with one rough hand. Every detail seemed magnified in Sam’s eyes, the tightness around Bumblebee’s mouth, the little grunts he made, familiar and wrong, wrong, Ratchet still fully clothed, his eyes dispassionate and his grip around Bee’s cock firm and rhythmic. He wasn’t even aware of stepping backwards, two three steps until he collided with the shelves, a rain of small cartons falling on top of him.
Bee’s eyes flew open and met his unerringly, sharp green on brown and his mouth opened, words escaping that Sam couldn’t fathom.
Another flash, harsh as a slap, and this one told him to leave. He took another stumbling step backwards, shaking his head at the hand that Bee reached out to him and finally he turned and ran, staggering out the door and slamming it behind him.
"Sam, stop!"
Ratchet’s voice, his brain told him dimly. He ignored it, racing to the outside door and he had to get out, out, out, what the hell was he doing here anyway, some fucking hero, he’d just been born on the wrong branch of the wrong family tree and--
A large hand appeared in front of him and Sam skidded to a stop a fraction of a second too late, colliding with hard metal that instantly curled around him.
"I said, stop," Ratchet said calmly, lifting him up to eye level.
"Put me down!" Sam struggling for about ten seconds before it occurred to him that he was a good twenty feet away from the ground and two broken legs.
"Sam, you are under a misconception and I believe it would be better that I explain it than Bumblebee. He's very distraught at the moment."
"I don’t care, put me down!" It was close to a scream, uncaring that about two dozen solders were just around the corner.
"Sam, listen to me," Ratchet said sharply. "He can't continue to power down every time you have intercourse, he's going to hurt himself."
The blush that had already started heating his cheeks at the word intercourse went as cold as the pit of his stomach. "Wha--hurt himself?"
"I see he hasn't told you anything," Ratchet said dryly. He settled down to sit on the ground, groaning a little as stiff gears shifted. "Autobots were not made to be sent consistently into involuntary stasis. It could cause permanent sensor damage, memory loss, corruption of data."
Memory loss. "But--he didn't tell me!"
"Bumblebee has always been very stubborn, although your reaction gives me some insight into his reluctance. Humans are so possessive," he said it with a touch of exasperation. "Nonetheless, if he wishes to remain in a 'relationship' with you," Sam could almost hear the air quotes. "Then he needs to be properly trained and I'm afraid that isn't something that you can assist him with."
"Why not?" Sam challenged, more than a little belligerent. Bumblebee was keeping things from him, Ratchet was acting like they were kids playing dress up and he was twenty feet from the ground and not much further from a huge fucking audience. Add in that his parents probably hated him, and as days went, this pretty much blew.
"Stubborn." Ratchet sighed. "Sam, no matter how realistic his simulation is, Bumblebee is not human and you cannot expect him to learn from one. Can't humans be injured during their sexual relations if they aren't careful?"
"I guess so," Sam mumbled, not exactly pleased to be discussing any kind of relations with Ratchet.
He nodded. "Just so, and you wouldn't go to a..." His optics flickered, indicating that he was searching for a proper comparison. "You wouldn't go to a dolphin to teach you how humans have sex, would you? And certainly not a virgin dolphin."
Okay, the image of virgin dolphins having sex with humans....ugh, he'd need mental steel wool to scrub that out of his brain.
"Look, much as I'd like to keep talking about dolphins having sex, could you put me down now?"
"Of course." Ratchet started lowering him and then frowned, raising him back up. "Why were you in the infirmary to begin with? It isn't being used yet, we haven't even finished stocking it."
"Someone asked me to bring in a box of supplies that got mixed in with the other stuff," Sam said, tiredly. God, he just wanted to go bury his head in his pillow for about a thousand years. "Sideswipe asked me."
"Sideswipe?" His frown deepened. "Sideswipe wasn't scheduled to assist-"
The sound of screeching metal made them both jerk, Ratchet's hand tightening almost uncomfortably. Shouts rose in the air from around the other side of the building, human and something else entirely.
"I just had to be a medic," Ratchet grumbled, his long strides carrying them quickly. "I could have been a weapon specialist, but no…."
They just turned the corner when a blur of yellow and black crashed past them.
Bumblebee and Sunstreaker, Sam realized, watching as Bumblebee drove his fist into Sunstreaker's midsection, sending him stumbling backwards.
"You need to stop them!" Sam shouted to Ratchet over the din of colliding metal.
"Why, so I can repair my own injuries along with theirs? No, thank you."
Sam struggled a little in Ratchet's grip, yelping as it tightened. "And what would you do, give them a time out?" Ratchet said, exasperated. "If I let them step on you, I'll have to answer to far too many people. Besides, I hate paperwork."
The crowd wasn't going to be any help either, Sam realized with a sinking heart. Both human and Autobot soldiers were shouting encouragement and Sam would swear he saw money changing hands.
The two Autobots had separated, Sunstreaker favoring one leg a fraction while they circled each other slowly, each looking for an opening. He said something in that staticky language he'd used before when he'd insulted Sam, his hands raised placating.
"Sunstreaker is claiming innocence in any mishap," Ratchet translated helpfully. Bumblebee responded in kind, one hand cutting sharply through the air. "Bumblebee is saying that Sunstreaker knows exactly what he did and he is going to shove his…oh, I don’t think there is a human equivalent for that word. If it were possible with Sunstreaker’s head still attached, I’m sure it would be painful."
He didn't have a chance to translate whatever Bumblebee said next because Sunstreaker lunged at him suddenly, catching Bumblebee by one arm and jerking him off his feet. The momentum sent them both crashing to the ground, twisting as each tried to gain the upper hand and slamming into one of the satellite towers.
"I just calibrated that arm," Ratchet complained. "And if they don’t kill each other, Ironhide may do it for them. He’s been working on that shield array all week."
A cheer rose from the crowd as they came to a rest with Bumblebee on top, an inarticulate howl of rage coming from him as he raised one fist. And froze when Sunstreaker's laser canon appeared inches from his face, a hush falling over everyone.
"Enough!"
"And just when it was getting interesting," Ratchet murmured.
Optimus strode into the group, the crowd parting like water before the quake of his steps. Bee and Sunstreaker rose slowly to their feet, their optics downcast as Optimus glared at them both. "Fighting amongst yourselves in front of our allies. Unacceptable." He thundered, pacing in front of them. "You’re both on report."
"I didn’t…" Sunstreaker protested. He fell silent immediately under Prime’s stern expression. Bumblebee flinched when it swung over to him, blue optics judging him harshly.
"I expected better from you, Bumblebee."
It was so unfair Sam would have protested if Ratchet hadn’t shifted his grip warningly.
Still glaring at Bumblebee, Optimus demanded, "You began this. You will explain yourself and you will do it, now."
Bumblebee opened his mouth but the only sound he made was rough and pained. He touched his throat and winced.
"Ah, he tore those blasted cables loose again," Ratchet sighed.
Optimus nodded, "A fitting punishment, then. You can get repairs done tomorrow. For now, the two of you will recalibrate this shield array or you won't need me to offer further reprimand."
A low growl from Ironhide confirmed that and when Optimus's gaze turned to the rest of the bystanders, each of them suddenly remembered that they had other things that urgently needed their attention. Sam bit his lip and watched as Bumblebee and Sunstreaker began to silently reposition the satellite dish.
"I liked you better like this, anyway," Sunstreaker said, his voice pitched low enough that Optimus couldn't hear. His fucking familiar voice, son of a bitch. "It's about the only thing that ever made you shut up."
Bumblebee didn't react, his eyes on his work and Sam began to struggle again in Ratchet's grip, protesting loudly when the medic refused to let him go.
"Dammit, Ratchet, would you just put me down!"
Bumblebee heard him, turning his way and their eyes met briefly before Ratchet turned away, striding off and carrying Sam along for the ride.
"You should have let me say something," Sam shouted, slamming a fist down on Ratchet much larger one. "It wasn’t all Bee’s fault!"
"Prime puts a great deal of trust in Bumblebee," Ratchet told him calmly. He stopped in front of the infirmary again, lowering Sam to the ground but not letting go just yet. "Especially for one as young as he is. He needs to live up to that standard."
"So that makes it okay for Sunstreaker to provoke him?"
"It means that Bumblebee should not rise to the provocation." Ratchet finally let go, shifting into his car form before his hologram abruptly formed in front of Sam. "Since my scheduled activity for the day seems to have been postponed, I thought it would be an opportune moment for us to talk. Come on."
He walked into the infirmary and Sam stood stubbornly still, sullenly glaring at his back. A nudge at his back made him jump, Ratchet's bumper pushing him forward warningly.
"Fine, fine," Sam muttered, trudging after him. Ratchet was looking in the box Sam had brought, studying a package of bandages.
"It's commendable that you should wish to defend Bumblebee, though I would think that you would be more upset with Sunstreaker on your own behalf," Ratchet said musingly, neatly stacking bandages and small bottles on the counter.
"Why?"
Ratchet paused and glanced back at Sam, obviously considering his words. Sam smiled thinly and shook his head. His face felt too tight, like if he moved too much it would shatter and leave him with no expression at all. "Because he was the one who sent me over here? I'm plenty pissed about that, actually," Sam frowned, considering what he might do about that and shook it away for the moment. "But he wouldn't have been able to do it if Bee had just told me the truth."
"I believe he was trying to protect you." Ratchet said it gently, a touch of admonishment in his voice.
"From what?" Anger was like a low flame in the back of his mind. Everything he'd given up to come here, his parents, Mikaela, his life, and Bumblebee didn't even trust him enough to tell him that their having sex was killing him? "From life? You guys can protect me from Decepticons, okay, but there it ends. All right?"
"Fine," Ratchet said mildly. "You may recall that I encouraged Bumblebee to speak to you from the first."
"So tell me what's going on, then."
"To be honest, I'm not quite familiar with the problem that Bumblebee is having. I thought perhaps training would help him. He chose to have me do it. He was concerned with discretion and he trusted me with his privacy." Ratchet frowned. "Something I failed him with, I'm afraid."
"You think?" Sam rolled his eyes.
Ratchet either didn't hear him or ignored him. "I believe I was a poor choice, anyway. Bumblebee couldn't relax with me and it was hindering our efforts. He may be more comfortable with one of his contemporaries. My first preference was Sunstreaker since I am aware of his history, but that seems to be out of the question."
"Man, your grasp of reality is just fantastic, Mr. Obvious McDuh." Sam muttered. A little louder, he added, "Sunstreaker has a history?"
"Sunstreaker is what would be known in vulgar terms as a 'simi' or one who has a preference for simulated mating. Some Autobots do. It's considered something of a minor perversion but it is generally acceptable amongst Autobots. I believe Decepticons found it to be punishable by death, or our ranks might have been fewer."
The Autobots were all a bunch of robotic perverts? Sam had to stifle a hysterical giggle. "Then why does he seem to hate me?"
"I couldn't begin to conjecture. His reasons for disliking Bumblebee are not mine to explain. However, with Sunstreaker being an unacceptable option, I believe that Sideswipe would be an appropriate second choice. He has been in one simi relationship that I know of without difficulty. I will discuss the matter with him." Ratchet glanced at him, considering. "Unless you believe the problem is with his technique. Have you noticed anything strange about it?"
"Er…no," Sam stammered, feeling his cheeks warm. "Nothing but the whole going unconscious thing."
"Very strange," Ratchet mused. "I'll speak with Sideswipe today. This issue does need resolved sooner rather than later. Since he'll be staying in Autobot City from now on, Prime is eager for him to resume his regular duties. "
"Duties?"
"He wasn't created for the sole purpose of guarding you, Sam," Ratchet said, amused. "Bumblebee is an expert in espionage and recon. "
"He's a spy?"
"I suppose that would be an appropriate term in the human vernacular. It was why he was the first sent to earth to begin with. He's capable of blending into almost any environment. Where the rest of us can process perhaps a dozen different sensor arrays, Bumblebee is capable of hundreds, perhaps thousands."
"A spy," Sam whispered, numbly. Was there anything Bumblebee had told him?
"Yes, but his duties won't require him to leave Autobot City. He accomplished them well enough when he was staying at your home and it will be much easier for him here with a better power supply."
Sam barely heard him. "Ratchet, I think I'm going to go lay down for a while. I'm getting a headache." It wasn't a lie, harsh pressure was throbbing at his temples.
"Would you like an analgesic? A painkiller," he translated. "I've been training to become proficient in human medicine as well. It's why they stationed me here, closer to the humans."
"No, I just want a nap." In a dark, dark room, with no windows. His room.
"Of course." He watched Sam slip out of the infirmary with a frown before accessing his wifi. There was someone he would do well to contact.
~~*~~
It was hours later when the door to Sam's room opened up quietly, Bumblebee stepping hesitantly inside. Sam was still on his bed, his eyes on the ceiling as they had been since he got back here. Long moments passed before he looked at Bumblebee and saw the silent misery in his eyes.
"So, all this time studying humans and it never occurred to you that I might want to know about you having to have sex with Ratchet," Sam asked conversationally.
Bee held up his hands helplessly and Sam remembered that Optimus had told him to get his voice fixed tomorrow. Just wonderful.
"Okay, fine, you didn't want to mention that. Or anything about how you might be killing yourself having sex with me, no, you have to protect me from that," Sam's voice was rising, the taste of anger sharp in the back of his throat. "Never mind that it could be damaging your memory and that I'd have to live with the fact that I was the one who did it."
"And then I get to hear from Ratchet, remember him, he was the one jerking you off this afternoon. I get to hear from him that you're a spy, one of the best that the Autobots have! You can pretend to be anything, he told me. And I hear none of this from you when you could talk! Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
He hated the plaintive whine in his voice, hated the helpless way Bee held up his hands, the pathetic look in his eyes. Lurching to his feet, Sam stalked over to his desk, tearing through the drawers until he found a pen and pad of paper. He tossed them at Bumblebee's feet, glaring at the floor while Bee picked them up and wrote quickly. Uncertainly, he handed the pad back to Sam, neat, tiny lettering at the top.
Because that is all subterfuge. It's lies. Sam kept his eyes on the paper, not looking at Bumblebee. I wanted this to be real. But lovemaking was not included in my original programming. I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong.
"But you didn't tell me any of this!" Sam shouted, his voice cracking. "You didn't think I'd want to know?"
Bee took the paper back and wrote one sentence, holding it out for Sam to see.
I didn't want you to think this was a game to me.
Sam crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor. "What makes you think it isn't a game to me?" he asked harshly. Did Bumblebee really think silence wasn’t just a different form of lying? Either way, it kept the truth from him. Bumblebee would have just let him go on his merry way and he still wouldn't know anything if it weren't for Sunstreaker. It was galling to think that Sam owed that asshole anything.
Bumblebee was staring at him, his puzzled expression shifting to dawning awareness. His lips parted in silent protest, his eyes widening and filling with dismay.
Sam tore a hand through his hair, shaken, "Look, I just--"
A sound interrupted him but it came from outside, the same low moan that he’d heard when they were in Sector 7.
Too late, he stuttered out, "Wait-"
The hologram faded, glittering dust shadowing the floor.
He heard the screech tires, the harsh roar of an engine and Sam ran to the door, his hands felt too clumsy and wrong and he yanked it open. "Wait!"
Bumblebee was already a streak of yellow, his tires screaming as he sped out of sight.
"Dammit!" Sam flung himself down on the step, burying his face in his hands.
"Sam? Is something wrong?" Sam blinked up, startled to recognize Sideswipe in his robotic form, gazing down at him with concern and thank you, God, for his voice being completely different than his brother's. "Ratchet asked me to come speak with you and Bumblebee."
"Can you talk to Bumblebee through your wifi?" Sam asked urgently.
"Of course," Sideswipe didn’t even question him.
"Tell him I didn’t mean it. Tell him I’m sorry, I was just upset," Sam was beyond any embarrassment even though he could hear the thickness in his own voice. "Tell him it’s not a game. It’s real. I swear, it’s real. Just…tell him."
Sideswipe’s expression betrayed no emotion, only silence as he accessed his wireless connection. Long moments went by before he looked back at Sam and said apologetically, "I’m sorry, he won’t acknowledge me."
Sam sank back down, pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. "Shit," he said, wearily.
"Did you want to talk about it?" Sideswipe settled down next to him in a flurry of shifting gears and hydraulics.
"No." Not one damned bit. Talking was what caused the problem to begin with.
"If you’d like, I can keep my sensors attuned to Bumblebee so I can tell if he is returning?" Sideswipe offered. "There are few Autobots who can keep themselves from being detected as well as Bumblebee, but then, there are few who are as able to detect him as I am."
"Yeah, that’d be great." Dully. "Why are you so talented?"
"Bumblebee and I are of a similar design." Sideswipe stretched his legs out in front of him. "My brother and I were given spark only a short time before Bumblebee was."
"So you’re about the same age."
"Yes."
"And you do the spy stuff, too?" It was easier to talk about something else, Sam decided. Anything but that devastated look in Bumblebee's eyes before he'd faded away.
"Spy…you mean surveillance? No, no," Sideswipe chuckled. "I’m a straight up soldier. Bumblebee is the expert when it comes to sniffing out Decepticons."
"He’s good, huh?" Not quite reluctantly. He wanted to hear more about Bumblebee and Sideswipe seemed eager enough to speak of it.
"He’s brilliant. But that was what he was made for. It’s why his design specs call for him to be so much smaller than most Autobots. Even so, his capacity for holo-construction is unmatched as far as I am aware." Sideswiped cocked his head to the side. "I suspect that’s one of the reasons my brother dislikes him so much."
It piqued Sam’s interest despite himself. "Yeah?"
"Yes. Sunstreaker asked Bumblebee once to help him perfect his holographic sensor arrays and Bumblebee refused. Told him he wasn’t about to assist him in manipulating any sentient organics." He looked pained. "I’m afraid my brother has misled many organics like yourself into thinking he is one of them."
"Why would he do that?" Aside from an overwhelming urge to be an asshole but somehow it seemed wrong to say that in front of his brother.
"He enjoys the mating," Sideswipe said bluntly. "And I admit, I have done so myself before which is why Ratchet asked me to assist Bumblebee. To be honest, I never expected him to involve himself with an organic species. He always seemed to find the idea distasteful."
"All that blood and guts, eh?" Said guts were currently twisting.
"Perhaps," Sideswipe agreed. "But I believe it was also difficult for him to accept that he would have to be intimate with someone in such a misleading fashion. He has thousands of saved simulated organics and I believe he could easily create any he wanted. But then where is his individuality?"
"I don't know."
Sideswipe studied him, one large finger lightly touching his back and Sam jerked away instantly, not even able to regret it when Sideswipe flinched. "Sam, I understand this must be difficult and strange for you, but I assure you that Bumblebee feels the same. Although I doubt Ratchet helped," he added darkly. "Ratchet is a being of extreme logic and all he saw was a problem to be solved. He didn’t comprehend the emotions surrounding it. I doubt he could. Having never experienced it, he can’t understand the great pleasure that can come with it. Or the great pain."
"Yeah," Sam said, his voice low.
"You are both very young and your relationship is very new. There are always problems to be worked through and I believe you can do it."
"I didn’t mean to hurt him." His voice sounded too young and childish. Christ, he could be so stupid sometimes. So damned selfish and stupid.
"Ah, well," There was gentle humor to the words. "The young are prone to that as well. Ah," he looked up, his eyes flickering as he read something behind them that Sam would never be able to see. "Bumblebee is approximately twenty miles west of here. Shall we?" He shifted into his car form and Sam was opening the door before he'd even finished.
"Yeah, let's go."
~~*~~
Never had twenty miles seemed so far away. Sam strained his eyes for any sign of him, squinting against the dimming light as the sun crept downward.
There, a flash of yellow and shining metal. The seatbelt tightened around him warningly, keeping him still until Sideswipe came to a complete stop. The door swung open on its own, Sam flying from the seat and then he couldn't move. Part of him was afraid that Bumblebee would see him and run away again but then, he had to know they were there. He was in his robot form, leaning against a large stone formation and gazing out into the flat desert in the direction of the sunset.
Hesitantly, Sam took a step forward, another, and he had no idea what the hell to say. Blue optics flashed towards him and met his eyes steadily and words came to him unbidden.
"I'm sorry," Sam said, simply. "I was upset. I didn't mean it."
Bumblebee didn't make a sound, just watched him. But he didn't flinch away when Sam stepped closer, laying uncertain hands on him. Carefully, he climbed up Bee's leg to settle on the sun-warmed metal of his knee, pulling his own knees up so he could wrap his arms around them. They stared at each other in silence, Sam's breath hitching just a little as he tried to come up with something better, anything to make Bee understand.
"This is real, I swear," Sam said. He heard the thickness in his voice and tried to swallow it away. Couldn't. "I'm so sorry, I just-"
Warm hands slipped around him from behind, one of them raising a single finger to his lips. Sam fell silent, closing his eyes and leaning back into the heat of Bumblebee's arms. Bee pressed his face into Sam's neck and inhaled deeply, his breath stuttering slightly as Sam slipped his hands over Bee's and clasped his wrists, holding on to him. The last wash of sunlight crept down them, soft as a lover's touch and they held each other as it faded away.
-finis-
Next Chapter
Title: Nervous System Hypothesis
by Keelywolfe
Bumblebee/Sam
Rated NC-17
Summary: A continuation of the ‘human’ series, which are in order:
Forms of Life
Too Human
Experiments in Human Nature
Public Education
Knee-Jerk Reaction
~~*~~
When he woke, for a moment he didn’t know where he was. The room was dark and too-quiet, and the warm contours beneath his head weren’t at all pillow-shaped. Fingers were sifting gently through his hair and it made Sam want to sigh, to close his eyes and let those gentle touches conspire with the quiet and darkness to soothe him back to sleep. Little flickers of memory were filtering back in though, Autobot City, showers…his parents, god-
"Shhh, Sam, I’m right here." Bumblebee’s voice was soft above him.
Sam shuddered a little, turning into the warm lap that his head was resting in. He remembered everything now, his small moment of sleep amnesia chased away. Bumblebee’s gentle touch slipped down the back of his head to his back, rubbing gently. It was difficult to pull away from, more so because Bumblebee seemed reluctant to let him go. Much as he would have loved to curl into Bumblebee’s arms for about the rest of the year, his watch was telling him in pointed glowing numbers that it was one in the afternoon. Pure darkness in the early afternoon was one perk of living in a windowless room. That and, you know, little Decepticons couldn’t creep in at night and do their killing thing.
Sam sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes, blinking harder when the lights came up on dim. Bumblebee was sitting with his back against the headboard, his hands in his lap and he watched Sam with obvious concern. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, it’s cool," Sam said, subdued. "My dad, he just-they’re right to be upset, you know. I should have told them."
"I’m to blame for that," Bumblebee said instantly. "I was the one who misled them before you could tell them the truth."
It almost made Sam smile. Just like Bumblebee, to try to take the hurt away in any way he could. "You’re not. You’re not," he repeated insistently when Bumblebee looked rebellious. "It’s not like you had a lot of choice. I’m pretty sure if your power had run out and you’d dissolved at the kitchen table it would have been worse." He did smile a little then. "Robots are one thing, I’m not sure I could have explained to my mom about my melting boyfriend."
He wasn’t entirely sure why Bumblebee’s entire face lit up or why he suddenly leaned forward to give Sam a warm kiss, but Sam could go with that. Curled his tongue around the warm pressure of Bee’s and for the first time he noticed that little electric tingle he’d gotten with their first few kisses was gone. He didn’t miss it one damned bit, cupping Bee’s face in his hands and deepening the kiss, their breath coming fast between them.
This time it was Bumblebee who pulled back from Sam’s clinging hands. "I’m sorry, I can’t."
It made him remember that Bumblebee had actually only shown up because somehow he’d noticed Sam was upset. "Oh, man, you had work you were supposed to be doing."
"It's all right." He kept his arms around Sam, stroking his back like he was a particularly large housecat.
Sam wasn’t about to be soothed as easy as that, tempting as it was. "Ratchet was already in your face about things," he said, troubled.
"I'll worry about Ratchet." There was a certain grimness to his tone that made Sam bite his lip, but he didn’t ask. "However, I did want to tell you that Optimus sent me a message a short time ago. The human soldiers are working on their portion of the city and Optimus thought perhaps you'd like to assist them. It would give you an opportunity to get to know the other humans who are stationed here. "
"I guess so." Seemed like saving the world didn't get you out of chores forever.
Bumblebee pointedly ignored his lack of enthusiasm. "I think it would be good for you to spend some time with the humans. Much as I enjoy your company, I’m not allowed to remain in it one hundred percent of the time."
"I’d settle for ninety."
"If you decide to go, they’ll be working in Sector C. It’s close to the canteen; you should be able to find it without much difficulty. "
Sam wasn’t as convinced. "All right, I’ll think about it."
"I need to go." Another soft kiss said that need and want were definitely two different things.
"Yeah," Sam breathed, licking at the soft lushness of Bee’s mouth, teeth catching gently on his lower lip, a soft bite that would barely sting a human.
"I need-" Bumblebee crawled over him, pressing him down on the bed, his mouth moving over Sam’s fiercely even as he pushed one leg between Sam’s, his knee pressing unerringly against Sam’s hardening cock. Oh, this was a bad, bad idea, Bee’s tongue stroking his in tender little touches.
"You need to go," Sam managed to pull away a little and he so didn’t mean to tilt his head in such a way that Bee could suck on his neck. Seriously. He didn’t.
"Mmmhhhmmm," mumbled against his neck, the sharp edge of teeth making Sam gasp and squirm, arching up into the sweet pressure of Bumblebee’s knee rocking against him.
"Optimus is going to get mad at you," Sam gasped out.
"Nnnnnn," Bee’s murmured a negative.
"Ratchet is going to-"
Sam didn’t get to finish, his own protest half-voice as Bumblebee pulled abruptly away, scrambling back until he hit the headboard. The way he looked, they might as well have just gone for it. His hair was a sweaty mess, tangled wildly around his head, his lips reddened and parted as harsh breaths tore from his chest. Bee closed his eyes and pushed one hand through his tousled hair.
He took a deep breath, another. "I am sorry, Sam, I didn’t mean to tease."
Sam grinned, shifting up carefully to sit and ignoring the sharp indigo protest in his balls. "Baby, you can tease me like that any time."
He’d meant it as a tease of his own but the way Bee’s eyes suddenly darkened and flicked down to his lips made him inch backwards until he almost fell off the bed.
"Sam-" Low and husky.
"Go, go!" Sam laughed, shooing him away. Duty before wild teenage humping.
Bee pressed his first two fingers to his own lips, kissing them lightly before pressing them to Sam’s. Only after Sam kissed them did he hop off the bed and out the door, leaving Sam to flop back on it. Jesus, please us.
Even if he’d wanted to jerk off, which, okay, he totally did, he wasn’t going to. Some things were worth waiting for, he decided. A glance at his watch told him time had crept by and it was now a quarter past one. Working with the soldiers, Bee had said. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to make himself useful.
~~*~~
Bumblebee was right about one thing; Sector C was pretty easy to find. At least thirty men were working there, carting boxes off of trucks, searching through them, setting up equipment. Sam hung back a bit and watched them, not wanting to get in anyone’s way. It was like a sea of khaki and crew cuts.
A loud shout from his left startled him and he jerked around. "Hey, look who dragged himself out of the bot side!"
A tall black man jogged out from the crowd and over to Sam. "Sir!" He saluted crisply and didn't even wait for Sam to return it. "Hey, man, good to see you!"
"Sergeant Epps," Sam exclaimed, recognizing him. He grinned and shook the offered hand firmly. "I didn't know you were here."
"Yeah, yeah, I asked for this duty, man," Epps grinned proudly. "It’s Master Sergeant now. Fighting off enemy robots is damned good for a promotion. Drop any of those boxes and it’s a size twelve up your ass," he shouted, a chorus of ‘Yes, sir!’s rose from the crowd. "We’re working on getting our new technical center set up today. These guys, man, they have some stuff that would make Steve Jobs piss himself."
"Yeah, I bet." To his surprise, a few of the guys unloading the trucks were wearing t-shirts and jeans. "You guys have civilians working here?"
"Naw, man, some of ‘bots are helping out today. We don't usually ask, but they offered and hey, they can pick up some fucking heavy stuff," Epps said cheerfully, "You can usually tell the 'bots from the men even if they try to go for uniforms, the cheating bastards." It was said with obvious affection.
Sam realized Epps was right. The holograms were stiffer...blank, somehow. None of them moved with Bumblebee's easy grace, though some were obviously better than others.
"Don't know all of them by name," Epps said readily. "But they don't mind. Switch bodies on us like changing clothes, anyway. Some of 'em try on two or three a day. Trying to find a comfortable fit, Ironhide told me."
"Ironhide is here?"
"Over there," He pointed at a tall, burly man who was somewhat reminiscent of Rambo. Yeah, that would be Ironhide. He was gesturing fiercely at the Autobot contingent, probably shouting at them with as much enthusiasm as Epps.
"Hey, I gotta get back to it before they blow something up," Epps was saying.
"Yeah, Optimus said I should come help out."
"Oh, we can put you to work," Epps grinned, slapping him hard enough on the back that Sam lurched forward a step. "Come on, kid, let’s get to it."
Work detail consisted mainly of carrying heavy boxes from the back of a truck and taking them into a building without dropping them, knocking into anyone else, or enduring any threats from anyone large and menacing. It was working out pretty well, if somewhat sweatily, and it hadn’t taken the other soldiers long to get past their wariness of him. After a few awkward salutes and loud encouragement from Epps that they better damn well respect the kid who’d saved all their asses, they’d accepted him cautiously. It was pretty cool, Sam decided, hefting another box into the tech lab. It was heavier than he’d expected and his arms were hot and aching by the time he’d gotten through the door.
"Here, let me help." An unfamiliar hologram plucked the box easily from him, setting it in a stack with others that matched it.
"Thanks," Sam panted, looking up at his helper. He was dressed much like the others, some of whom had waved in greeting to him earlier. Long dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck and dark eyes. He smiled, proving that this particular holo was better done than a few of the others he’d seen.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Samuel Witwicky," he said, his unfamiliar voice smooth and cool.
"Just Sam’s fine." He shook the offered hand, repressing a wince at the inhuman chill. Nothing at all like the warmth that Bumblebee radiated.
"Sam, then. It’s a pleasure to finally meet our savior." He held on to Sam’s hand lightly and seemed not to notice Sam’s slight attempt to pull away. "Yes, our savior," he repeated softly.
"I don’t know about all that," Sam laughed uneasily. "I don’t think I caught your name?"
"Ah, yes, you haven’t seen me in this form, have you," he smiled, eyes gleaming. "You can call me Sideswipe."
"Oh, yeah," Sam brightened, happy to hear a familiar name. "Bumblebee’s talked about you."
"Has he? I’m a little surprised that he would, to you." Something in his tone made Sam want to step back, some bewildering discomfort. A flutter of panic woke in his stomach and he finally twisted his hand away, stepping backwards. He suddenly realized they were the only ones in this part of the building and why that made him uncomfortable, he couldn’t say but he sure as hell wasn’t hanging around it figure it out.
"We better get back to work," Sam said, slowly, taking another careful step back.
"Oh, yes, of course. But first, could you take this box of supplies over to the infirmary? I believe it accidentally got mixed in with the technical equipment."
"Yeah, sure," Sam took it, a little relieved that it was surprisingly light.
Sideswipe brushed past him and Sam shivered again at the chill. "Second building on the left," he called back, rejoining the other workers.
"No problem," Sam muttered, walking outside. That was the guy Bumblebee wanted him to meet? Man, they had some seriously different taste in friends. The infirmary was easy enough to find, the telltale red cross on the door leading the way. It was dark inside, sunlight creeping in from between the slats of the shades. Not open for business yet, he guessed.
There were a couple boxes off to one side and Sam decided that would be a perfect spot for his. He stacked it on top, dusting off his hands and stretching. At least he wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.
A sound startled him, coming from further into the building. He could see another door across the room, light seeping in from underneath. Another sound, someone’s voice, he thought, and okay, this might not be a great idea but maybe they needed whatever was in the box. He might as well let whoever was here know he’d brought it. He’d just turned the knob and opened the door a bare crack when a voice startled him.
"This isn’t working!"
Bumblebee? He almost said it aloud, stifling it at the last moment. What the hell was he doing in the infirmary, had he been hurt? It would be just like him to get injured and not tell Sam about it.
"Bumblebee, you must relax."
That exasperated voice was familiar too, Ratchet. Okay, Bumblebee had totally gotten himself hurt. Sam slipped silently into the room, which was filled with racks of medical supplies and boxes. Pretty weird place to be treating an injury and way too small for even Bumblebee in his robot form but what the hell else could they be doing in here?
"Just relax; I'm not going to hurt you." Soothing, or apparently as soothing as Ratchet could get. For a medical officer, Sam had noticed that his bedside manner could be a little lacking. When he’d repaired Bumblebee’s legs some months ago, he’d been just as likely to smack Bee on the back of the head for his impatience as he had been to offer a pain blocker.
"I'm not worried about you hurting me," Gritted out and it certainly sounded like Ratchet was hurting him. Sam stepped cautiously closer, trying to get to a place where he could see and-
Oh, god.
It was like a flash bulb in his head, a hot snap so sharp that for a moment, Sam forgot how to breathe. Couldn’t even comprehend what he was seeing, much less understand it. Bumblebee and Ratchet, both in their holo forms but Bumblebee was naked, Ratchet behind him, jerking him off with one rough hand. Every detail seemed magnified in Sam’s eyes, the tightness around Bumblebee’s mouth, the little grunts he made, familiar and wrong, wrong, Ratchet still fully clothed, his eyes dispassionate and his grip around Bee’s cock firm and rhythmic. He wasn’t even aware of stepping backwards, two three steps until he collided with the shelves, a rain of small cartons falling on top of him.
Bee’s eyes flew open and met his unerringly, sharp green on brown and his mouth opened, words escaping that Sam couldn’t fathom.
Another flash, harsh as a slap, and this one told him to leave. He took another stumbling step backwards, shaking his head at the hand that Bee reached out to him and finally he turned and ran, staggering out the door and slamming it behind him.
"Sam, stop!"
Ratchet’s voice, his brain told him dimly. He ignored it, racing to the outside door and he had to get out, out, out, what the hell was he doing here anyway, some fucking hero, he’d just been born on the wrong branch of the wrong family tree and--
A large hand appeared in front of him and Sam skidded to a stop a fraction of a second too late, colliding with hard metal that instantly curled around him.
"I said, stop," Ratchet said calmly, lifting him up to eye level.
"Put me down!" Sam struggling for about ten seconds before it occurred to him that he was a good twenty feet away from the ground and two broken legs.
"Sam, you are under a misconception and I believe it would be better that I explain it than Bumblebee. He's very distraught at the moment."
"I don’t care, put me down!" It was close to a scream, uncaring that about two dozen solders were just around the corner.
"Sam, listen to me," Ratchet said sharply. "He can't continue to power down every time you have intercourse, he's going to hurt himself."
The blush that had already started heating his cheeks at the word intercourse went as cold as the pit of his stomach. "Wha--hurt himself?"
"I see he hasn't told you anything," Ratchet said dryly. He settled down to sit on the ground, groaning a little as stiff gears shifted. "Autobots were not made to be sent consistently into involuntary stasis. It could cause permanent sensor damage, memory loss, corruption of data."
Memory loss. "But--he didn't tell me!"
"Bumblebee has always been very stubborn, although your reaction gives me some insight into his reluctance. Humans are so possessive," he said it with a touch of exasperation. "Nonetheless, if he wishes to remain in a 'relationship' with you," Sam could almost hear the air quotes. "Then he needs to be properly trained and I'm afraid that isn't something that you can assist him with."
"Why not?" Sam challenged, more than a little belligerent. Bumblebee was keeping things from him, Ratchet was acting like they were kids playing dress up and he was twenty feet from the ground and not much further from a huge fucking audience. Add in that his parents probably hated him, and as days went, this pretty much blew.
"Stubborn." Ratchet sighed. "Sam, no matter how realistic his simulation is, Bumblebee is not human and you cannot expect him to learn from one. Can't humans be injured during their sexual relations if they aren't careful?"
"I guess so," Sam mumbled, not exactly pleased to be discussing any kind of relations with Ratchet.
He nodded. "Just so, and you wouldn't go to a..." His optics flickered, indicating that he was searching for a proper comparison. "You wouldn't go to a dolphin to teach you how humans have sex, would you? And certainly not a virgin dolphin."
Okay, the image of virgin dolphins having sex with humans....ugh, he'd need mental steel wool to scrub that out of his brain.
"Look, much as I'd like to keep talking about dolphins having sex, could you put me down now?"
"Of course." Ratchet started lowering him and then frowned, raising him back up. "Why were you in the infirmary to begin with? It isn't being used yet, we haven't even finished stocking it."
"Someone asked me to bring in a box of supplies that got mixed in with the other stuff," Sam said, tiredly. God, he just wanted to go bury his head in his pillow for about a thousand years. "Sideswipe asked me."
"Sideswipe?" His frown deepened. "Sideswipe wasn't scheduled to assist-"
The sound of screeching metal made them both jerk, Ratchet's hand tightening almost uncomfortably. Shouts rose in the air from around the other side of the building, human and something else entirely.
"I just had to be a medic," Ratchet grumbled, his long strides carrying them quickly. "I could have been a weapon specialist, but no…."
They just turned the corner when a blur of yellow and black crashed past them.
Bumblebee and Sunstreaker, Sam realized, watching as Bumblebee drove his fist into Sunstreaker's midsection, sending him stumbling backwards.
"You need to stop them!" Sam shouted to Ratchet over the din of colliding metal.
"Why, so I can repair my own injuries along with theirs? No, thank you."
Sam struggled a little in Ratchet's grip, yelping as it tightened. "And what would you do, give them a time out?" Ratchet said, exasperated. "If I let them step on you, I'll have to answer to far too many people. Besides, I hate paperwork."
The crowd wasn't going to be any help either, Sam realized with a sinking heart. Both human and Autobot soldiers were shouting encouragement and Sam would swear he saw money changing hands.
The two Autobots had separated, Sunstreaker favoring one leg a fraction while they circled each other slowly, each looking for an opening. He said something in that staticky language he'd used before when he'd insulted Sam, his hands raised placating.
"Sunstreaker is claiming innocence in any mishap," Ratchet translated helpfully. Bumblebee responded in kind, one hand cutting sharply through the air. "Bumblebee is saying that Sunstreaker knows exactly what he did and he is going to shove his…oh, I don’t think there is a human equivalent for that word. If it were possible with Sunstreaker’s head still attached, I’m sure it would be painful."
He didn't have a chance to translate whatever Bumblebee said next because Sunstreaker lunged at him suddenly, catching Bumblebee by one arm and jerking him off his feet. The momentum sent them both crashing to the ground, twisting as each tried to gain the upper hand and slamming into one of the satellite towers.
"I just calibrated that arm," Ratchet complained. "And if they don’t kill each other, Ironhide may do it for them. He’s been working on that shield array all week."
A cheer rose from the crowd as they came to a rest with Bumblebee on top, an inarticulate howl of rage coming from him as he raised one fist. And froze when Sunstreaker's laser canon appeared inches from his face, a hush falling over everyone.
"Enough!"
"And just when it was getting interesting," Ratchet murmured.
Optimus strode into the group, the crowd parting like water before the quake of his steps. Bee and Sunstreaker rose slowly to their feet, their optics downcast as Optimus glared at them both. "Fighting amongst yourselves in front of our allies. Unacceptable." He thundered, pacing in front of them. "You’re both on report."
"I didn’t…" Sunstreaker protested. He fell silent immediately under Prime’s stern expression. Bumblebee flinched when it swung over to him, blue optics judging him harshly.
"I expected better from you, Bumblebee."
It was so unfair Sam would have protested if Ratchet hadn’t shifted his grip warningly.
Still glaring at Bumblebee, Optimus demanded, "You began this. You will explain yourself and you will do it, now."
Bumblebee opened his mouth but the only sound he made was rough and pained. He touched his throat and winced.
"Ah, he tore those blasted cables loose again," Ratchet sighed.
Optimus nodded, "A fitting punishment, then. You can get repairs done tomorrow. For now, the two of you will recalibrate this shield array or you won't need me to offer further reprimand."
A low growl from Ironhide confirmed that and when Optimus's gaze turned to the rest of the bystanders, each of them suddenly remembered that they had other things that urgently needed their attention. Sam bit his lip and watched as Bumblebee and Sunstreaker began to silently reposition the satellite dish.
"I liked you better like this, anyway," Sunstreaker said, his voice pitched low enough that Optimus couldn't hear. His fucking familiar voice, son of a bitch. "It's about the only thing that ever made you shut up."
Bumblebee didn't react, his eyes on his work and Sam began to struggle again in Ratchet's grip, protesting loudly when the medic refused to let him go.
"Dammit, Ratchet, would you just put me down!"
Bumblebee heard him, turning his way and their eyes met briefly before Ratchet turned away, striding off and carrying Sam along for the ride.
"You should have let me say something," Sam shouted, slamming a fist down on Ratchet much larger one. "It wasn’t all Bee’s fault!"
"Prime puts a great deal of trust in Bumblebee," Ratchet told him calmly. He stopped in front of the infirmary again, lowering Sam to the ground but not letting go just yet. "Especially for one as young as he is. He needs to live up to that standard."
"So that makes it okay for Sunstreaker to provoke him?"
"It means that Bumblebee should not rise to the provocation." Ratchet finally let go, shifting into his car form before his hologram abruptly formed in front of Sam. "Since my scheduled activity for the day seems to have been postponed, I thought it would be an opportune moment for us to talk. Come on."
He walked into the infirmary and Sam stood stubbornly still, sullenly glaring at his back. A nudge at his back made him jump, Ratchet's bumper pushing him forward warningly.
"Fine, fine," Sam muttered, trudging after him. Ratchet was looking in the box Sam had brought, studying a package of bandages.
"It's commendable that you should wish to defend Bumblebee, though I would think that you would be more upset with Sunstreaker on your own behalf," Ratchet said musingly, neatly stacking bandages and small bottles on the counter.
"Why?"
Ratchet paused and glanced back at Sam, obviously considering his words. Sam smiled thinly and shook his head. His face felt too tight, like if he moved too much it would shatter and leave him with no expression at all. "Because he was the one who sent me over here? I'm plenty pissed about that, actually," Sam frowned, considering what he might do about that and shook it away for the moment. "But he wouldn't have been able to do it if Bee had just told me the truth."
"I believe he was trying to protect you." Ratchet said it gently, a touch of admonishment in his voice.
"From what?" Anger was like a low flame in the back of his mind. Everything he'd given up to come here, his parents, Mikaela, his life, and Bumblebee didn't even trust him enough to tell him that their having sex was killing him? "From life? You guys can protect me from Decepticons, okay, but there it ends. All right?"
"Fine," Ratchet said mildly. "You may recall that I encouraged Bumblebee to speak to you from the first."
"So tell me what's going on, then."
"To be honest, I'm not quite familiar with the problem that Bumblebee is having. I thought perhaps training would help him. He chose to have me do it. He was concerned with discretion and he trusted me with his privacy." Ratchet frowned. "Something I failed him with, I'm afraid."
"You think?" Sam rolled his eyes.
Ratchet either didn't hear him or ignored him. "I believe I was a poor choice, anyway. Bumblebee couldn't relax with me and it was hindering our efforts. He may be more comfortable with one of his contemporaries. My first preference was Sunstreaker since I am aware of his history, but that seems to be out of the question."
"Man, your grasp of reality is just fantastic, Mr. Obvious McDuh." Sam muttered. A little louder, he added, "Sunstreaker has a history?"
"Sunstreaker is what would be known in vulgar terms as a 'simi' or one who has a preference for simulated mating. Some Autobots do. It's considered something of a minor perversion but it is generally acceptable amongst Autobots. I believe Decepticons found it to be punishable by death, or our ranks might have been fewer."
The Autobots were all a bunch of robotic perverts? Sam had to stifle a hysterical giggle. "Then why does he seem to hate me?"
"I couldn't begin to conjecture. His reasons for disliking Bumblebee are not mine to explain. However, with Sunstreaker being an unacceptable option, I believe that Sideswipe would be an appropriate second choice. He has been in one simi relationship that I know of without difficulty. I will discuss the matter with him." Ratchet glanced at him, considering. "Unless you believe the problem is with his technique. Have you noticed anything strange about it?"
"Er…no," Sam stammered, feeling his cheeks warm. "Nothing but the whole going unconscious thing."
"Very strange," Ratchet mused. "I'll speak with Sideswipe today. This issue does need resolved sooner rather than later. Since he'll be staying in Autobot City from now on, Prime is eager for him to resume his regular duties. "
"Duties?"
"He wasn't created for the sole purpose of guarding you, Sam," Ratchet said, amused. "Bumblebee is an expert in espionage and recon. "
"He's a spy?"
"I suppose that would be an appropriate term in the human vernacular. It was why he was the first sent to earth to begin with. He's capable of blending into almost any environment. Where the rest of us can process perhaps a dozen different sensor arrays, Bumblebee is capable of hundreds, perhaps thousands."
"A spy," Sam whispered, numbly. Was there anything Bumblebee had told him?
"Yes, but his duties won't require him to leave Autobot City. He accomplished them well enough when he was staying at your home and it will be much easier for him here with a better power supply."
Sam barely heard him. "Ratchet, I think I'm going to go lay down for a while. I'm getting a headache." It wasn't a lie, harsh pressure was throbbing at his temples.
"Would you like an analgesic? A painkiller," he translated. "I've been training to become proficient in human medicine as well. It's why they stationed me here, closer to the humans."
"No, I just want a nap." In a dark, dark room, with no windows. His room.
"Of course." He watched Sam slip out of the infirmary with a frown before accessing his wifi. There was someone he would do well to contact.
~~*~~
It was hours later when the door to Sam's room opened up quietly, Bumblebee stepping hesitantly inside. Sam was still on his bed, his eyes on the ceiling as they had been since he got back here. Long moments passed before he looked at Bumblebee and saw the silent misery in his eyes.
"So, all this time studying humans and it never occurred to you that I might want to know about you having to have sex with Ratchet," Sam asked conversationally.
Bee held up his hands helplessly and Sam remembered that Optimus had told him to get his voice fixed tomorrow. Just wonderful.
"Okay, fine, you didn't want to mention that. Or anything about how you might be killing yourself having sex with me, no, you have to protect me from that," Sam's voice was rising, the taste of anger sharp in the back of his throat. "Never mind that it could be damaging your memory and that I'd have to live with the fact that I was the one who did it."
"And then I get to hear from Ratchet, remember him, he was the one jerking you off this afternoon. I get to hear from him that you're a spy, one of the best that the Autobots have! You can pretend to be anything, he told me. And I hear none of this from you when you could talk! Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
He hated the plaintive whine in his voice, hated the helpless way Bee held up his hands, the pathetic look in his eyes. Lurching to his feet, Sam stalked over to his desk, tearing through the drawers until he found a pen and pad of paper. He tossed them at Bumblebee's feet, glaring at the floor while Bee picked them up and wrote quickly. Uncertainly, he handed the pad back to Sam, neat, tiny lettering at the top.
Because that is all subterfuge. It's lies. Sam kept his eyes on the paper, not looking at Bumblebee. I wanted this to be real. But lovemaking was not included in my original programming. I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong.
"But you didn't tell me any of this!" Sam shouted, his voice cracking. "You didn't think I'd want to know?"
Bee took the paper back and wrote one sentence, holding it out for Sam to see.
I didn't want you to think this was a game to me.
Sam crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor. "What makes you think it isn't a game to me?" he asked harshly. Did Bumblebee really think silence wasn’t just a different form of lying? Either way, it kept the truth from him. Bumblebee would have just let him go on his merry way and he still wouldn't know anything if it weren't for Sunstreaker. It was galling to think that Sam owed that asshole anything.
Bumblebee was staring at him, his puzzled expression shifting to dawning awareness. His lips parted in silent protest, his eyes widening and filling with dismay.
Sam tore a hand through his hair, shaken, "Look, I just--"
A sound interrupted him but it came from outside, the same low moan that he’d heard when they were in Sector 7.
Too late, he stuttered out, "Wait-"
The hologram faded, glittering dust shadowing the floor.
He heard the screech tires, the harsh roar of an engine and Sam ran to the door, his hands felt too clumsy and wrong and he yanked it open. "Wait!"
Bumblebee was already a streak of yellow, his tires screaming as he sped out of sight.
"Dammit!" Sam flung himself down on the step, burying his face in his hands.
"Sam? Is something wrong?" Sam blinked up, startled to recognize Sideswipe in his robotic form, gazing down at him with concern and thank you, God, for his voice being completely different than his brother's. "Ratchet asked me to come speak with you and Bumblebee."
"Can you talk to Bumblebee through your wifi?" Sam asked urgently.
"Of course," Sideswipe didn’t even question him.
"Tell him I didn’t mean it. Tell him I’m sorry, I was just upset," Sam was beyond any embarrassment even though he could hear the thickness in his own voice. "Tell him it’s not a game. It’s real. I swear, it’s real. Just…tell him."
Sideswipe’s expression betrayed no emotion, only silence as he accessed his wireless connection. Long moments went by before he looked back at Sam and said apologetically, "I’m sorry, he won’t acknowledge me."
Sam sank back down, pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. "Shit," he said, wearily.
"Did you want to talk about it?" Sideswipe settled down next to him in a flurry of shifting gears and hydraulics.
"No." Not one damned bit. Talking was what caused the problem to begin with.
"If you’d like, I can keep my sensors attuned to Bumblebee so I can tell if he is returning?" Sideswipe offered. "There are few Autobots who can keep themselves from being detected as well as Bumblebee, but then, there are few who are as able to detect him as I am."
"Yeah, that’d be great." Dully. "Why are you so talented?"
"Bumblebee and I are of a similar design." Sideswipe stretched his legs out in front of him. "My brother and I were given spark only a short time before Bumblebee was."
"So you’re about the same age."
"Yes."
"And you do the spy stuff, too?" It was easier to talk about something else, Sam decided. Anything but that devastated look in Bumblebee's eyes before he'd faded away.
"Spy…you mean surveillance? No, no," Sideswipe chuckled. "I’m a straight up soldier. Bumblebee is the expert when it comes to sniffing out Decepticons."
"He’s good, huh?" Not quite reluctantly. He wanted to hear more about Bumblebee and Sideswipe seemed eager enough to speak of it.
"He’s brilliant. But that was what he was made for. It’s why his design specs call for him to be so much smaller than most Autobots. Even so, his capacity for holo-construction is unmatched as far as I am aware." Sideswiped cocked his head to the side. "I suspect that’s one of the reasons my brother dislikes him so much."
It piqued Sam’s interest despite himself. "Yeah?"
"Yes. Sunstreaker asked Bumblebee once to help him perfect his holographic sensor arrays and Bumblebee refused. Told him he wasn’t about to assist him in manipulating any sentient organics." He looked pained. "I’m afraid my brother has misled many organics like yourself into thinking he is one of them."
"Why would he do that?" Aside from an overwhelming urge to be an asshole but somehow it seemed wrong to say that in front of his brother.
"He enjoys the mating," Sideswipe said bluntly. "And I admit, I have done so myself before which is why Ratchet asked me to assist Bumblebee. To be honest, I never expected him to involve himself with an organic species. He always seemed to find the idea distasteful."
"All that blood and guts, eh?" Said guts were currently twisting.
"Perhaps," Sideswipe agreed. "But I believe it was also difficult for him to accept that he would have to be intimate with someone in such a misleading fashion. He has thousands of saved simulated organics and I believe he could easily create any he wanted. But then where is his individuality?"
"I don't know."
Sideswipe studied him, one large finger lightly touching his back and Sam jerked away instantly, not even able to regret it when Sideswipe flinched. "Sam, I understand this must be difficult and strange for you, but I assure you that Bumblebee feels the same. Although I doubt Ratchet helped," he added darkly. "Ratchet is a being of extreme logic and all he saw was a problem to be solved. He didn’t comprehend the emotions surrounding it. I doubt he could. Having never experienced it, he can’t understand the great pleasure that can come with it. Or the great pain."
"Yeah," Sam said, his voice low.
"You are both very young and your relationship is very new. There are always problems to be worked through and I believe you can do it."
"I didn’t mean to hurt him." His voice sounded too young and childish. Christ, he could be so stupid sometimes. So damned selfish and stupid.
"Ah, well," There was gentle humor to the words. "The young are prone to that as well. Ah," he looked up, his eyes flickering as he read something behind them that Sam would never be able to see. "Bumblebee is approximately twenty miles west of here. Shall we?" He shifted into his car form and Sam was opening the door before he'd even finished.
"Yeah, let's go."
~~*~~
Never had twenty miles seemed so far away. Sam strained his eyes for any sign of him, squinting against the dimming light as the sun crept downward.
There, a flash of yellow and shining metal. The seatbelt tightened around him warningly, keeping him still until Sideswipe came to a complete stop. The door swung open on its own, Sam flying from the seat and then he couldn't move. Part of him was afraid that Bumblebee would see him and run away again but then, he had to know they were there. He was in his robot form, leaning against a large stone formation and gazing out into the flat desert in the direction of the sunset.
Hesitantly, Sam took a step forward, another, and he had no idea what the hell to say. Blue optics flashed towards him and met his eyes steadily and words came to him unbidden.
"I'm sorry," Sam said, simply. "I was upset. I didn't mean it."
Bumblebee didn't make a sound, just watched him. But he didn't flinch away when Sam stepped closer, laying uncertain hands on him. Carefully, he climbed up Bee's leg to settle on the sun-warmed metal of his knee, pulling his own knees up so he could wrap his arms around them. They stared at each other in silence, Sam's breath hitching just a little as he tried to come up with something better, anything to make Bee understand.
"This is real, I swear," Sam said. He heard the thickness in his voice and tried to swallow it away. Couldn't. "I'm so sorry, I just-"
Warm hands slipped around him from behind, one of them raising a single finger to his lips. Sam fell silent, closing his eyes and leaning back into the heat of Bumblebee's arms. Bee pressed his face into Sam's neck and inhaled deeply, his breath stuttering slightly as Sam slipped his hands over Bee's and clasped his wrists, holding on to him. The last wash of sunlight crept down them, soft as a lover's touch and they held each other as it faded away.
-finis-
Next Chapter