FIC: Half to Rise, Half to Fall (Human Series)
Half to Rise, Half to Fall
By Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
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
Nervous System Hypothesis
Different Applications of Moral Support
This Body Electric
The Unconscious Mind
Subliminal Messages
Greeks Bearing Gifts
In a Dark Ruby Stain
Interruptions in the Key of C
Also the AU Attention Getting Device
~~*~~
The first thing Sam became aware of as he slowly woke was that he was warm. It was a drowsy sort of wakening, that syrup-heavy sleepiness hadn't quite vanished the first time he'd awoken and he surfaced only just enough to feel the skin-warmed metal beneath his cheek. Absently, Sam stroked the hard edge just next to his head, rubbing his thumb across the smoothness. A faint humming moan came from beneath him, vibrating through him, louder when he increased the pressure.
"Sam..." He felt it as much as heard it, Bumblebee's voice a low pulse through him and he hummed a soft reply, sighing at the feel of one large fingertip lightly trailing down his back.
It took a moment for the soft creaking sound to register, longer for it to filter through his brain that the quiet shuffling sound was footsteps but the screech, well, that he heard a lot more than he'd ever wanted.
"Samuel James Witwicky, you get down from there this instant!"
"Mom?" Sam scrambled to sit up, years of childhood training him that use of the full name meant trouble. The sound of two humans shrieking in the near vicinity was enough to startle even a twenty-foot robot and Bumblebee jolted beneath him, automatically reaching up to catch the human perched so precariously on his chest. In his surprise, he grabbed at Sam a little too hard and slapped him back down on his chest, knocked the wind out of him.
"Bumblebee, you should know better!" His mom scolded loudly, hands on her hips as she shouted up at them.
"Mom, I--" Sam wheezed, still trying to suck air back into his poor lungs, staring down at his mother through watering eyes. It almost seemed strange that she looked exactly as he remembered and Sam had to remind himself that it had only been a few weeks since he'd seen her. It didn't seem quite possible that so short a time had passed, only a few weeks but a lifetime ago.
"He's only just starting to recover," she continued, her voice echoing up at them. "He doesn't need you encouraging him so...no, don't you pick him up, Ratchet said that you aren't supposed to be exerting yourself, either. Sam, you sit right there until Ratchet comes in here. Ratchet, get in here this instant!"
The door was already opening as she shouted, Ratchet timing his entrance with the perfection of one who knows better than to come when the shouting first began.
"Is there a problem?" Ratchet asked, politely, from the door.
"Yes, there is, do you see where Sam is?"
"I do."
"I would have thought you'd be keeping a better eye on your patients! I know you aren't all that familiar with humans yet but you should realize that kinky sex..." she gestured impatiently. "...things should be avoided right after a person has nearly died."
"Of course, you're right." Contritely and Sam stared, because this was going from sitcom right into sci-fi. Maybe Ratchet had gotten infected with some of that virus after all.
"We weren't--" Sam started protesting, broke off because what the hell was he supposed to say.
"You weren't yet, but you were probably both thinking about it. You both need time to recover so get down here right now! There will be no robotic sex..." she flapped a hand at them. "...sex things while you're both still recovering! I know that Ratchet already spoke to you, Bumblebee; you should be ashamed of encouraging him. No, don't climb down yourself, you haven't eaten a bite of real food in a week, you're going to break your neck."
"Allow me," Ratchet reached out, held his hand in a cup that Sam reluctantly crawled into, if only to make his mother stop saying the word sex.
"Are you feeling all right?" Sam whispered.
"Your mother is quite a formidable human," Ratchet murmured. That wasn't a point Sam could argue. Gently, Ratchet settled him back into his own hospital bed, his mother rushing over to them and tucking the blankets around him in suffocating proportions.
"You couldn't tell me that my mom is here?" Sam hissed, glaring at Ratchet and then adding Bumblebee into it because he'd so obviously known. Ratchet gave him a very human-like shrug.
"I had assumed you would realize," Ratchet said. "You nearly died; should I have sent them a sympathy card afterward to inform them of your untimely demise? Or would you have preferred a singing telegram?"
"You said my immune system took care of the virus!"
"Not instantaneously," Ratchet said irritably. "It took nearly twenty-four hours for you to stabilize. In that time, we contacted your parents and had them brought to Autobot city. I'm grateful that we did, your mother has been of great assistance to me. It's not like I have any experience in bedpans and sponge baths."
If he could have physically crawled through the floor, Sam would have started digging a hole right about then.
"Oh, don't look like that," his mother scolded, one cool hand pressing against Sam's forehead testingly. "I used to change your diapers, young man. He was such a clean boy," she said confidentially to Ratchet. "Potty trained so easily."
Ratchet nodded solemnly, the faintest smirk curling one side of his mouth. "I'm sure."
It was that moment in time when Sam began to truly wish he had died. Anything had to be better than this.
"Still a little warm," Mom murmured, tipping his chin up so she could push back one eyelid and peer inside. Dismally, Sam let her manhandle him.
"His temperature is 99.1 degrees in Fahrenheit," Ratchet confirmed. He raised one hand and a beam of red light swept over Sam briefly. "However, the virus count is extinguished. I'm assuming his immune system is simply overacting to the invasion and that is what is causing the fever. Nothing that a little more rest shouldn't cure."
"Do you hear that?" she said triumphantly. "The doctor says you need rest and you aren't likely to get much in here. Back to your own room until Ratchet says you're better."
"Ratchet was the one who brought me in here," Sam said irritably, something his mother clearly ignored as she gathered up his IV stand and started pushing him towards the door. He managed to give Bumblebee a plaintive look before he was pushed through the swinging doors and back down the hall into the human side of the infirmary. His mother pushed the bed into his room as expertly as a nurse, settling his IV stand and straightening all the tubing with gentle efficiency.
"Mom?" Sam started, cut off as his mother interrupted.
"Now, I want you to get some rest. I know you're probably sick of being in bed, but if you promise to get a little more sleep, I'll see if I can get you some books or maybe a television."
"Mom--"
"I'm sure those army boys would be happy to set something up," she continued, smoothing his blankets, tucking him in so firmly he was half convinced he'd wake up a butterfly. "You've had a lot of people stopping by to check on you, you know. Mikaela is going to be happy to hear you've finally woken up."
"Mom, please--"
For the first time, his mother went still, her hands resting lightly on his blanketed leg. "Please don't say anything. Let me go first." She sighed, looking down for a long moment before she lifted her head and clearly met his eyes.
"I know you feel awful about everything that's happened and I'm sure you still owe me and your father a few explanations but I shouldn't have let your father go on like he did last time." She made a face. "You know how he gets, all that defensive anger."
"I should have just told you," Sam managed, working the words past the thickness in his throat.
"Well, let's not worry about that right now," Mom said. She stroked his hair lightly, reminding Sam of other fevers, late nights of sickness and the gentle soothing touch of his mother's cool hands. "Your father is out running the roads with...is it Ironhide? I think he rather enjoys patrolling. When he gets back, if you're feeling better, maybe we'll talk a little more."
"I'm really sorry."
"I know. But you have no idea how proud I am of you, sweetie." She laughed softly and Sam managed to open his eyes enough to see her dearly loved face smiling at him. "I always knew you'd do great things, but I always thought it would be along the lines of being a doctor or a lawyer. I didn't expect you to save the world when you were still a teenager."
"Didn't really mean to," Sam murmured, sleepily. "I love you, mom."
"I love you, too, Sammie." With a last gentle pat, she stood, leaning down to brush a kiss across his forehead before she left, closing the door quietly behind her.
**
The light coming in between the shades was much dimmer when Sam startled awake again, half-sitting up in bed as he blinked sleepily, trying to get his bearings. Another shout like the one that had awoken him echoed down the hallway, as well as an answering shout, raised voices spitting angry Cybertronian words.
Ratchet's voice he recognized, even if he didn't understand the words, loud and annoyed. The other voice wasn't as clear to him but the anger in it he understood perfectly. He winced as that voice rose to sharp pitch, even as he strained harder to listen, trying to identify its owner. If he concentrated, just beneath it, he could almost hear a faint scratchy, staticy sound, like a doubled radio station on a bad tuner. Words came in to focus beneath the shouting, ones that he could actually understand.
"..if you can't remain calm, I'm going to power you down. You aren't going to undo all of my hard work with a tantrum."
"I want to speak with Optimus, now!"
"You'll be speaking with Primus if you don't stop it, now sit down and..."
Sudden warm weight behind him startled him out of his focus, the shouts fading down. Strong arms slipped around him, pulling him against a hard, decidedly naked body.
"Bumblebee?" Sam hissed, trying to wriggle around so he could look.
"Who else?" Soft, wet kisses pressed against the back of his neck made him shiver, squirming against the confines of Bumblebee's arms and the blankets.
"What are you doing??"
"I believe your mother said we shouldn't engage in any kinky robot sex. She said nothing about nice, clean human sex, did she?"
"Ratchet is going to kill us." Weakly, because dammit, Bumblebee's mouth was wet and clever against his ear, the sharp edge of teeth against the soft lobe almost enough to cause pain but not quite.
Soft laughter. "Ratchet is the one who turned my holographic projector back on."
One hand was creeping stealthily into his pajama bottoms and at the first soft touch of Bee's fingertips Sam gave up. Hey, if Ratchet had given them implied consent, he wasn't about to turn away any nice, clean sex. Tipped his head back just a little, Sam gasped as Bee quickly took the hint, mouthing his way down Sam's neck with slippery little licks.
"Let me--" Whispered hotly against his neck and Sam whimpered, lifting up enough for Bumblebee to tug his pajamas down. The hot, damp pressure of Bee's cock pressed firmly against the small of his back, edging lower as Bumblebee adjusted himself against him. Sam couldn't help but tense, just a little, as it nudged lightly into the cleft of his ass but it slipped lower still, sliding between Sam's legs as he obeyed the pressure of Bee's hand on his knee, pushing his legs together until he could hold the hot length between his legs.
"There!" Bumblebee exhaled sharply, "Oh, there...that's..."
"Oh, that feels--" Sam echoed weakly, biting his lip at the feel of Bumblebee's cock nudging lightly at his balls, gliding slickly between his legs in a mimic of sex. One of Bumblebee's arms was beneath his head like a makeshift pillow and Sam scrabbled to catch that hand in one of his, the other tight on Bumblebee's other forearm as he delicately wrapped his hand around Sam's aching erection, matching the hard strokes to his own thrusts. Sam forgot about the shouting, about his mom, about anything to do with Ratchet and lost himself in a little kinky human sexual interaction.
"Beautiful...boy...so good..." Bumblebee groaned, lapsing briefly into a language that Sam didn't understand but he could get the gist of it, positively pornographic words making up for Bee's lack of speech for so long.
It was over far too quick, Bumblebee pushing him easily to the edge and letting him tip over it, gasping at the sweetness of orgasm even as he dimly heard Bumblebee's soft curses, felt him shudder hotly, jerking in his own pleasure.
"I love you," so softly but Sam still heard it, still answered it, choking out his reply and slumping back into Bumblebee's comforting arms.
Bumblebee sighed contentedly, nuzzling Sam's ear, "There is something to be said for sex of the non-kinky variety."
"I think my mom would argue that any sex with you is probably a little kinky," Sam panted, closing his eyes and twining his fingers with Bumblebee's free hand. A thought started trickling into his head, post-coital contentment slowing it but it managed to twist its way through, banging into Sam's thought cortex hard enough that he sat up, almost quickly enough to fall out of the bed if Bumblebee hadn't had a firm grip on him.
"You did it!" Sam exclaimed. "We had sex and you didn't power down or anything!"
"I know," Bumblebee said, with a certain smugness. "When we linked during the virus attack, it helped me align my receptors with yours. With a better understanding of the human nervous system, I could correct for my previous errors."
"My receptors?" Sam frowned. "I thought they were all yours."
Bumblebee's eyes flicked away. "They are. It's rather complicated to explain and I believe you still need your rest."
Okay, that was avoidance of an epic proportion. But if anything were too funky, Ratchet would surely have already told him so Sam settled for a quick glare before he settled back down on the bed. And maybe he still wasn't quite well because it was all too easy to curl up in the warm blankets and Bumblebee's equally warm embrace and drift.
"What was with all the shouting earlier, anyway?" Sam asked sleepily, not bothering to open his eyes. "Ratchet seemed pretty pissed." And not at him, for once.
"How did you--" Bumblebee fell silent and his arms tightened around Sam, almost infinitesimally. "As far as I can gather, Sunstreaker is displeased with his confinement."
"I would have thought he'd be long since out of here."
"Unfortunately not. The damage he caused himself was extensive." Grudgingly, and Sam didn't have to guess that Bumblebee wasn't happy that Sunstreaker had probably saved his life.
"Have you talked to him at all?"
"No," Bee said, shortly. "And I am not about to right now. Go. To. Sleep."
"Bossy," Sam complained, but he barely made it out before a yawn. Snuggling in, he drifted back to sleep, briefly hoping that Bee kept better tabs on security this time. If his mom walked in on them again, they'd probably be making wishes for an Decepticon attack, non-kinky human sex or not.
-finis-
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By Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
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
Nervous System Hypothesis
Different Applications of Moral Support
This Body Electric
The Unconscious Mind
Subliminal Messages
Greeks Bearing Gifts
In a Dark Ruby Stain
Interruptions in the Key of C
Also the AU Attention Getting Device
~~*~~
The first thing Sam became aware of as he slowly woke was that he was warm. It was a drowsy sort of wakening, that syrup-heavy sleepiness hadn't quite vanished the first time he'd awoken and he surfaced only just enough to feel the skin-warmed metal beneath his cheek. Absently, Sam stroked the hard edge just next to his head, rubbing his thumb across the smoothness. A faint humming moan came from beneath him, vibrating through him, louder when he increased the pressure.
"Sam..." He felt it as much as heard it, Bumblebee's voice a low pulse through him and he hummed a soft reply, sighing at the feel of one large fingertip lightly trailing down his back.
It took a moment for the soft creaking sound to register, longer for it to filter through his brain that the quiet shuffling sound was footsteps but the screech, well, that he heard a lot more than he'd ever wanted.
"Samuel James Witwicky, you get down from there this instant!"
"Mom?" Sam scrambled to sit up, years of childhood training him that use of the full name meant trouble. The sound of two humans shrieking in the near vicinity was enough to startle even a twenty-foot robot and Bumblebee jolted beneath him, automatically reaching up to catch the human perched so precariously on his chest. In his surprise, he grabbed at Sam a little too hard and slapped him back down on his chest, knocked the wind out of him.
"Bumblebee, you should know better!" His mom scolded loudly, hands on her hips as she shouted up at them.
"Mom, I--" Sam wheezed, still trying to suck air back into his poor lungs, staring down at his mother through watering eyes. It almost seemed strange that she looked exactly as he remembered and Sam had to remind himself that it had only been a few weeks since he'd seen her. It didn't seem quite possible that so short a time had passed, only a few weeks but a lifetime ago.
"He's only just starting to recover," she continued, her voice echoing up at them. "He doesn't need you encouraging him so...no, don't you pick him up, Ratchet said that you aren't supposed to be exerting yourself, either. Sam, you sit right there until Ratchet comes in here. Ratchet, get in here this instant!"
The door was already opening as she shouted, Ratchet timing his entrance with the perfection of one who knows better than to come when the shouting first began.
"Is there a problem?" Ratchet asked, politely, from the door.
"Yes, there is, do you see where Sam is?"
"I do."
"I would have thought you'd be keeping a better eye on your patients! I know you aren't all that familiar with humans yet but you should realize that kinky sex..." she gestured impatiently. "...things should be avoided right after a person has nearly died."
"Of course, you're right." Contritely and Sam stared, because this was going from sitcom right into sci-fi. Maybe Ratchet had gotten infected with some of that virus after all.
"We weren't--" Sam started protesting, broke off because what the hell was he supposed to say.
"You weren't yet, but you were probably both thinking about it. You both need time to recover so get down here right now! There will be no robotic sex..." she flapped a hand at them. "...sex things while you're both still recovering! I know that Ratchet already spoke to you, Bumblebee; you should be ashamed of encouraging him. No, don't climb down yourself, you haven't eaten a bite of real food in a week, you're going to break your neck."
"Allow me," Ratchet reached out, held his hand in a cup that Sam reluctantly crawled into, if only to make his mother stop saying the word sex.
"Are you feeling all right?" Sam whispered.
"Your mother is quite a formidable human," Ratchet murmured. That wasn't a point Sam could argue. Gently, Ratchet settled him back into his own hospital bed, his mother rushing over to them and tucking the blankets around him in suffocating proportions.
"You couldn't tell me that my mom is here?" Sam hissed, glaring at Ratchet and then adding Bumblebee into it because he'd so obviously known. Ratchet gave him a very human-like shrug.
"I had assumed you would realize," Ratchet said. "You nearly died; should I have sent them a sympathy card afterward to inform them of your untimely demise? Or would you have preferred a singing telegram?"
"You said my immune system took care of the virus!"
"Not instantaneously," Ratchet said irritably. "It took nearly twenty-four hours for you to stabilize. In that time, we contacted your parents and had them brought to Autobot city. I'm grateful that we did, your mother has been of great assistance to me. It's not like I have any experience in bedpans and sponge baths."
If he could have physically crawled through the floor, Sam would have started digging a hole right about then.
"Oh, don't look like that," his mother scolded, one cool hand pressing against Sam's forehead testingly. "I used to change your diapers, young man. He was such a clean boy," she said confidentially to Ratchet. "Potty trained so easily."
Ratchet nodded solemnly, the faintest smirk curling one side of his mouth. "I'm sure."
It was that moment in time when Sam began to truly wish he had died. Anything had to be better than this.
"Still a little warm," Mom murmured, tipping his chin up so she could push back one eyelid and peer inside. Dismally, Sam let her manhandle him.
"His temperature is 99.1 degrees in Fahrenheit," Ratchet confirmed. He raised one hand and a beam of red light swept over Sam briefly. "However, the virus count is extinguished. I'm assuming his immune system is simply overacting to the invasion and that is what is causing the fever. Nothing that a little more rest shouldn't cure."
"Do you hear that?" she said triumphantly. "The doctor says you need rest and you aren't likely to get much in here. Back to your own room until Ratchet says you're better."
"Ratchet was the one who brought me in here," Sam said irritably, something his mother clearly ignored as she gathered up his IV stand and started pushing him towards the door. He managed to give Bumblebee a plaintive look before he was pushed through the swinging doors and back down the hall into the human side of the infirmary. His mother pushed the bed into his room as expertly as a nurse, settling his IV stand and straightening all the tubing with gentle efficiency.
"Mom?" Sam started, cut off as his mother interrupted.
"Now, I want you to get some rest. I know you're probably sick of being in bed, but if you promise to get a little more sleep, I'll see if I can get you some books or maybe a television."
"Mom--"
"I'm sure those army boys would be happy to set something up," she continued, smoothing his blankets, tucking him in so firmly he was half convinced he'd wake up a butterfly. "You've had a lot of people stopping by to check on you, you know. Mikaela is going to be happy to hear you've finally woken up."
"Mom, please--"
For the first time, his mother went still, her hands resting lightly on his blanketed leg. "Please don't say anything. Let me go first." She sighed, looking down for a long moment before she lifted her head and clearly met his eyes.
"I know you feel awful about everything that's happened and I'm sure you still owe me and your father a few explanations but I shouldn't have let your father go on like he did last time." She made a face. "You know how he gets, all that defensive anger."
"I should have just told you," Sam managed, working the words past the thickness in his throat.
"Well, let's not worry about that right now," Mom said. She stroked his hair lightly, reminding Sam of other fevers, late nights of sickness and the gentle soothing touch of his mother's cool hands. "Your father is out running the roads with...is it Ironhide? I think he rather enjoys patrolling. When he gets back, if you're feeling better, maybe we'll talk a little more."
"I'm really sorry."
"I know. But you have no idea how proud I am of you, sweetie." She laughed softly and Sam managed to open his eyes enough to see her dearly loved face smiling at him. "I always knew you'd do great things, but I always thought it would be along the lines of being a doctor or a lawyer. I didn't expect you to save the world when you were still a teenager."
"Didn't really mean to," Sam murmured, sleepily. "I love you, mom."
"I love you, too, Sammie." With a last gentle pat, she stood, leaning down to brush a kiss across his forehead before she left, closing the door quietly behind her.
**
The light coming in between the shades was much dimmer when Sam startled awake again, half-sitting up in bed as he blinked sleepily, trying to get his bearings. Another shout like the one that had awoken him echoed down the hallway, as well as an answering shout, raised voices spitting angry Cybertronian words.
Ratchet's voice he recognized, even if he didn't understand the words, loud and annoyed. The other voice wasn't as clear to him but the anger in it he understood perfectly. He winced as that voice rose to sharp pitch, even as he strained harder to listen, trying to identify its owner. If he concentrated, just beneath it, he could almost hear a faint scratchy, staticy sound, like a doubled radio station on a bad tuner. Words came in to focus beneath the shouting, ones that he could actually understand.
"..if you can't remain calm, I'm going to power you down. You aren't going to undo all of my hard work with a tantrum."
"I want to speak with Optimus, now!"
"You'll be speaking with Primus if you don't stop it, now sit down and..."
Sudden warm weight behind him startled him out of his focus, the shouts fading down. Strong arms slipped around him, pulling him against a hard, decidedly naked body.
"Bumblebee?" Sam hissed, trying to wriggle around so he could look.
"Who else?" Soft, wet kisses pressed against the back of his neck made him shiver, squirming against the confines of Bumblebee's arms and the blankets.
"What are you doing??"
"I believe your mother said we shouldn't engage in any kinky robot sex. She said nothing about nice, clean human sex, did she?"
"Ratchet is going to kill us." Weakly, because dammit, Bumblebee's mouth was wet and clever against his ear, the sharp edge of teeth against the soft lobe almost enough to cause pain but not quite.
Soft laughter. "Ratchet is the one who turned my holographic projector back on."
One hand was creeping stealthily into his pajama bottoms and at the first soft touch of Bee's fingertips Sam gave up. Hey, if Ratchet had given them implied consent, he wasn't about to turn away any nice, clean sex. Tipped his head back just a little, Sam gasped as Bee quickly took the hint, mouthing his way down Sam's neck with slippery little licks.
"Let me--" Whispered hotly against his neck and Sam whimpered, lifting up enough for Bumblebee to tug his pajamas down. The hot, damp pressure of Bee's cock pressed firmly against the small of his back, edging lower as Bumblebee adjusted himself against him. Sam couldn't help but tense, just a little, as it nudged lightly into the cleft of his ass but it slipped lower still, sliding between Sam's legs as he obeyed the pressure of Bee's hand on his knee, pushing his legs together until he could hold the hot length between his legs.
"There!" Bumblebee exhaled sharply, "Oh, there...that's..."
"Oh, that feels--" Sam echoed weakly, biting his lip at the feel of Bumblebee's cock nudging lightly at his balls, gliding slickly between his legs in a mimic of sex. One of Bumblebee's arms was beneath his head like a makeshift pillow and Sam scrabbled to catch that hand in one of his, the other tight on Bumblebee's other forearm as he delicately wrapped his hand around Sam's aching erection, matching the hard strokes to his own thrusts. Sam forgot about the shouting, about his mom, about anything to do with Ratchet and lost himself in a little kinky human sexual interaction.
"Beautiful...boy...so good..." Bumblebee groaned, lapsing briefly into a language that Sam didn't understand but he could get the gist of it, positively pornographic words making up for Bee's lack of speech for so long.
It was over far too quick, Bumblebee pushing him easily to the edge and letting him tip over it, gasping at the sweetness of orgasm even as he dimly heard Bumblebee's soft curses, felt him shudder hotly, jerking in his own pleasure.
"I love you," so softly but Sam still heard it, still answered it, choking out his reply and slumping back into Bumblebee's comforting arms.
Bumblebee sighed contentedly, nuzzling Sam's ear, "There is something to be said for sex of the non-kinky variety."
"I think my mom would argue that any sex with you is probably a little kinky," Sam panted, closing his eyes and twining his fingers with Bumblebee's free hand. A thought started trickling into his head, post-coital contentment slowing it but it managed to twist its way through, banging into Sam's thought cortex hard enough that he sat up, almost quickly enough to fall out of the bed if Bumblebee hadn't had a firm grip on him.
"You did it!" Sam exclaimed. "We had sex and you didn't power down or anything!"
"I know," Bumblebee said, with a certain smugness. "When we linked during the virus attack, it helped me align my receptors with yours. With a better understanding of the human nervous system, I could correct for my previous errors."
"My receptors?" Sam frowned. "I thought they were all yours."
Bumblebee's eyes flicked away. "They are. It's rather complicated to explain and I believe you still need your rest."
Okay, that was avoidance of an epic proportion. But if anything were too funky, Ratchet would surely have already told him so Sam settled for a quick glare before he settled back down on the bed. And maybe he still wasn't quite well because it was all too easy to curl up in the warm blankets and Bumblebee's equally warm embrace and drift.
"What was with all the shouting earlier, anyway?" Sam asked sleepily, not bothering to open his eyes. "Ratchet seemed pretty pissed." And not at him, for once.
"How did you--" Bumblebee fell silent and his arms tightened around Sam, almost infinitesimally. "As far as I can gather, Sunstreaker is displeased with his confinement."
"I would have thought he'd be long since out of here."
"Unfortunately not. The damage he caused himself was extensive." Grudgingly, and Sam didn't have to guess that Bumblebee wasn't happy that Sunstreaker had probably saved his life.
"Have you talked to him at all?"
"No," Bee said, shortly. "And I am not about to right now. Go. To. Sleep."
"Bossy," Sam complained, but he barely made it out before a yawn. Snuggling in, he drifted back to sleep, briefly hoping that Bee kept better tabs on security this time. If his mom walked in on them again, they'd probably be making wishes for an Decepticon attack, non-kinky human sex or not.
-finis-
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