keelywolfe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
keelywolfe) wrote2010-07-25 07:16 pm
keelywolfe) wrote2010-07-25 07:16 pm
Entry tags:
FIC: Arrested Developments of the Heart (Human Series)
FIC: Arrested Developments of the Heart
By Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Bumblebee/Sam, Others
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
Half to Rise, Half to Fall
Moments of Forgiveness
Topics of Conversation
Lies of Omission
The Theory of Existence
Beyond My Brave Facade
Parental Interaction In The Third Degree
Field Trips Into the Hypothetical
Also the AU Attention Getting Device
Notes: Yeesh, I've written stories that are shorter than this chapter. Heh, sorry about the sappy title, I couldn't help myself. ;)
Please enjoy!
~~*~~
In his one other experience in actually being arrested, Sam hadn't actually seen a jail cell. After the handcuffs had come off and he'd called his parents all he'd gotten out of the rest of the experience was a cup of truly awful coffee and chat with the Martin Riggs of his local police force.
Thus far, he couldn't say that Paxton City had much more to recommend to prospective detainees. Neither of them had ended up in handcuffs, this was true, but sitting in the only cell in the basement of the world's tiniest Sheriff's department wasn't much of an improvement.
"Aren't they supposed to read us our rights or something?" Sam asked, not moving from his sprawl on the thin mattress of his cot. He had an arm flung over his eyes, blocking the harsh glow of the fluorescents streaming down on them from wire caged fixtures. The cell was stifling hot even though the sun had gone hours ago and Sam's shirt was clinging damply to him.
"I'm not completely familiar with criminal law in your country, but I think he only has to do that if he officially arrests us. Right now, we are only being detained." Sideswipe was sitting on his own bunk stiffly and Sam wondered what anyone else would think of his odd posture, unmoving except for his lips as he spoke; conserving energy by using the barest necessity of power. He'd even stopped blinking and it was weird to realize just how much effort must go into making their Holos seem real. Breathing, talking, blinking, body temperature, so many tiny little details. Bee really was brilliant at this, he realized, and Sideswipe obviously wasn't bad himself if the difference was so obvious.
"Detained. That's great," Sam snorted. They had taken their names, ranks, and serial numbers…well, in Sam's case his name and driver's license number, before locking them up in here. On the plus side, the deputy wasn't being a total dick.
He'd passed them off to another Deputy, the Ann from the radio turned out to be a young brunette and she had been all business. Names and I.D. number, then blow into the breathalyzer and Sam wished he could say it was the first time he'd done that. Back in his hometown all the police had needed to do was spot Bumblebee and Sam would know he was in for another impromptu fifteen minute test of his sobriety. Sideswipe had barely spoken, murmuring the name Stephen Collins, whoever the hell that was. Sam hoped that there was a fake I.D. attached to it from somewhere.
"You know, even if they give us one phone call, I don't have anyone I can call," Sam said. Might as well revel in the misery of the situation. "They'll probably end up fingerprinting us and then arrest us for real."
"That would be inconvenient since I don't even have fingerprints," Sideswipe said ruefully. His fingers twitched just a little, as though he was considering what to do about it. Aside from simply existing, Sam hoped like hell that whoever Stephen Collins was, he didn't have a record.
Sam rolled over to lie on his side, watching Sideswipe in his creepy, no-moving mode. "And what about Mikaela? We left her all alone at that bar. She's probably freaking out by now."
"We've been gone approximately three hours, so I'm certain they've noticed you missing and are in search of us. Even so, she probably contacted Prowl for a ride."
"Contacted Prowl?" Sam frowned, leaning up on one elbow, "How? Did she get in on the wrist communicators or something?"
Sideswipe face moved the tinest bit, eyebrows drawing down faintly in visible confusion. "I believe you refer to the technology as cell phones," he said dryly.
"Oh." Sam flopped back on the bed. When they got back, if Ratchet and Bumblebee ever forgave him, he was definitely getting a new cell phone. And programming the numbers to every damned Autobot into it. Come to think of it, he had a non-living, non-breathing one sitting here with him right now. "Hey, if you guys have built in cell phones, can’t you contact them? Get them to post bail or whatever it is you do with detained people?"
"I'm afraid to take my focus out of this form," Sideswipe said and his voice did sound odd. Rougher, maybe. "If I do, I might not be able to maintain it and if that happens, I guarantee I won't be able to reform it. My knowledge about your police customs is solely based on the TV shows Cops and In the Heat of the Night, but even so, I can guess they wouldn't be happy to come back and find me gone."
"Sucks," Sam murmured, closing his eyes. It was so hot but he dimly realized that he was shivering a little despite it, a familiar ache rising slowly in him. Sweat was beading on his upper lip and he licked it again, tasted salt and faint moisture that only made thirst tighten in his throat. Oh, bad, bad timing, that greedy aching that heralded the depletion of power in his receptors was just beginning, an odd, rising soreness that he knew from past experience would just get worse. Why the hell was it taking them so long to figure out how to draw energy from him? Ratchet and Bumblebee had both taken a stab at explaining it to him, but a single receptor had to be at least as bright as the latest version of the Ipod. He was starting to think they just liked the sex they got out of the deal and wouldn't it just make sense that in a collection of alien robot perverts, he ended up with his own micro set.
"Are you all right?" Sideswipe asked abruptly. It sounded distant but Sideswipe wasn't that far away, only a couple of feet and Sam's eyes felt too heavy to open enough to look at him, that achy, itchy sensation lingering just under his skin was collecting low in his belly, rising heat and he knew exactly what happened after this. After this, Bumblebee came to him and usually managed some truly inspiring variation of sex. The very best that the porn industry had nothing on an alien with instant access to Google.
"Sam?" Sharper this time, demanding an answer and with a tremendous effort Sam managed to open his eyes. Some life had leaked back into Sideswipe's still form, concern visible on his face.
"Yeah," Sam replied, dimly surprised at the thickness in his own voice, the heavy sound of growing need, "I just haven't seen Bee since this morning."
Sideswipe gaped openly at him, "Are you crazy? Did either of you put any thought at all into this idiotic plan…no, don't even answer. It's obvious you didn't."
The world seemed scalding and wavery, the shimmer of the desert without the glow of the sun and through it, Sam watched Sideswipe carefully stand, shifting in slow, faltering steps to sit down on the edge of the bunk. He raised a hand and hesitated there before uncertainly setting it on Sam's chest, just over his heart. The feel of it made Sam want to squirm, arch up and beg but all he could manage was a feeble moan.
It wasn't much but that light contact must have offered him something because Sam's vision cleared a little and he managed to raise his own hand, settle it over Sideswipe's.
"My power cells aren't doing that great either," Sideswipe said grimly. "We need to get out of here before they come back to find one unconscious prisoner and one vanished."
"Yeah," Sam agreed, barely hearing him. All he wanted was that touch, for Sideswipe to touch him more and then he'd feel better, he knew he would. Helplessly, he tried to push Sideswipe's hand lower, just a little, down to where he was so, so hot, knew that cool fingers would feel so good against him. But Sideswipe was as unmovable as a brick wall. His touch on Sam's chest was firm, gave him the tiniest sense of contact/electric blue/contact, but it refused Sam's attempts to move it someplace better.
Above him he heard a sharp word in Cybertronian, one that didn't need translation as Sideswipe added a short, "Fucking hell!" under his breath.
He stood, let Sam keep clinging to his hand when he immediately started to protest, allowing him to twine their fingers together. "Officer," Sideswipe called, then a little louder, "Officer, please, my friend isn't well—"
Like that was going to work, Sam couldn't say. That was like, a classic ploy in the villain handbook. Play sick and get them close enough to take them out. Even Paxton City cops had to know better than that. Only to his dim surprise, an officer did come down only it wasn't Ann or Deputy Harper, this guy was in a State Trooper uniform, not a Sheriff and there was something odd about him, something that made uneasiness slither up Sam's spine.
He had one frozen moment to see Sideswipe's expression change, to watch him move in a blur of motion to pull Sam off the bed and onto the floor, covering him with his own body.
"DOWN!"
Later, Sam couldn't even remember if it had been a verbal shout or just a burst of sound thrust directly into his head but in the end, it didn't matter. He didn't even have a chance to respond to it, only buried his face against Sideswipe's chest, fingers clutching at the front of his shirt as Sideswipe wrapped both of his arms around Sam's head. He could feel the abrupt surge of energy around him and knew without asking that Sideswipe had put up some sort of shield around them, all in a matter of an instant but still barely in time as a rain of blasts fell over them along with a shower of sparks from impact on the concrete floor around them.
It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, Sam could feel the heat of those blasts even through the shield and Sideswipe himself, hot enough to make him flinch and instinctively cringe harder into the floor. There was a low sound against his ear, sharp and pained, and Sam abruptly opened his eyes. Autobots felt pain even in their Holo forms, certainly Bumblebee had, and maybe Sideswipe wouldn't die but he could certainly hurt and from the rising sound against Sam's ear, he could hurt a lot.
He was weakening, shaking over Sam as blistering shots of plasma rained down on them and it felt utterly natural to reach out and push, shoring up the faltering shields around them. How he did it he couldn't have said; it was as easy as breathing, reaching out and pushing his own energy into it until the low keening in his ear faded and Sideswipe relaxed a fraction against him. No connection, not with this one, but he was close, so close, and Sam…Sam didn't love him, didn't, but he felt something. Something.
It ended as abruptly as it began, the ringing in Sam's ears slowly fading as Sideswipe lifted his head. The concrete around them was pitted and crumbling, the outline of their bodies the only clear spot left in the entire cell but the state cop, who sure as fuck wasn't, was gone, not so much as a dusting of dead receptors still hanging in the air.
"Come on," Sideswipe said sharply, and Sam barely took his hand before Sideswipe pushed him against the bars, covering him with his own body again.
"What—" Sam started only to be cut off by an explosion of concrete, clouds of dust rising until he was coughing and spitting, squinting through the debris in the direction of what used to be a barred window.
"Sideswipe!" Loudly, from outside, and Sam was already following it, crawling over chunks of concrete and the twisted remains of the camp beds.
"Go, go, go!" Sideswipe shoved him hard, his voice already dissolving into static as he faded and was finally gone, the last of his auxiliary receptors used up. Breaking out of jail would have seemed like overkill just five minutes ago but now with one half of the cell crumbling in on itself and what was almost certainly Decepticons trying to murder him, it was definitely the best option on the table. Still coughing, Sam went in the direction that Sideswipe pushed him, crawling haphazardly up the remains of the outer wall. It was slow going, chunks of wall falling away sending him sliding down as often as they provided handholds to get him up and it seemed to take forever to get close to ground level. A hand reached down to him and Sam took it unthinkingly, barely noticing its inhuman chill until he was face to face with its owner on the sidewalk outside.
He blinked a little at his rescuer, felt the irritating cling of dust in his lashes and caked on his face before he said without considering, "What the hell are you doing here?"
It was fascinating how much Sunstreaker looked like Sideswipe and yet not at all. Aside from their coloring, the lines of their face were a perfect mirror match, nothing that human twins could ever hope to achieve. It was the unmistakable coldness in his eyes that would always give him away, the icy humor was never an expression Sideswipe had worn.
"Humans really have no idea how to express gratitude, do they?" Sunstreaker observed blandly. He was still holding Sam's hand, one thumb stroking lightly over the knuckles. Sam yanked it free and Sunstreaker released him immediately, that single touch still crackling in his eyes.
"Thanks," Sam snapped out. He knew entirely too much about Sunstreaker's idea of expressing gratitude as it was. "And you didn't answer my question."
"I don't need to be a communications officer to know when he's in trouble," Sunstreaker said coolly. His gaze flicked behind Sam, observing his brother as his alternate form drove up beside them. "I came as soon as I felt your agitation."
"And never have I been more grateful," Sideswipe said wearily.
"Oh, but I have your gratitude? Well, this is a day for miracles, isn't it," Sunstreaker watched his twin dispassionately. "You're almost out of power and he's not much better. Let's get out of here, shall we?"
He turned away without waiting to see if they followed , his car form turning into the parking lot and driving up to them. Sunstreaker braked silently right in front of Sam and opened his passenger side door invitingly. Ignoring that entirely, Sam walked around him to his brother, opening the passenger side himself. He'd walk back to base with a dozen Decepticons shooting at him at once before he'd ride with Sunstreaker.
"Wait," Sam hesitated, one hand still on the door handle as he turned to look at the Sheriff's office. Deputy Harper's car was still parked out front and no one else had come in yet to check out the smoking remains of the former jail cell. "That Deputy, Ann, we can't just leave them, what if they're hurt--"
"Decepticons either ignore humans or kill them. Either way, there's nothing you could do about it," Sunstreaker said bluntly. Sideswipe said something too quick and sharp for Sam to translate but his twin's sullen expression didn't make it hard to grasp.
"I can detect two heartbeats inside," Sideswipe said after a moment, "They are not in distress so I would say he knocked them unconscious before coming after us."
"Who came after us?" Sam demanded, although he had his suspicions.
Suspicions that were confirmed with one word. "Barricade," Sunstreaker said shortly. "I saw him when I arrived. Took out his holographic relay before he noticed me. I trust that was helpful?"
"Yeah, it was," Sam said honestly. Damn it, he probably owed Sunstreaker his life. Sideswipe probably hadn't dared to focus on his mech half for fear of losing control over his holoform and leaving Sam defenseless. They had literally been caught in a deadly catch-22 until Sunstreaker had arrived.
"He took off into the city. Alone," Sunstreaker added, his holo leaning against his own driver's side door, arms crossed over his chest as he raised an eyebrow at his twin.
"We are not to engage at this time, Sunstreaker," Sideswipe said sharply. "Too many humans, including this one."
"I don't need you to tell me that a bear shits in the woods," Sunstreaker said but his eyes were gleaming with an unholy light that made Sam think of glee. Sick bastard probably loved arguing with his brother, with anyone, and he'd probably delight in tearing down this city just to get one Decepticon.
Issues, hell, Sunstreaker was an entire catalogue of malfunctions as far as Sam was concerned.
He startled a little as Sideswipe's door shifted against him, encouragingly, "Get in. We need to leave, now."
They did. Already he could hear sirens coming up the street, other officers coming to find out what the hell had happened and lingering around the remains of a jail cell seemed like the very epitome of bad idea.
"He could ride with me, if you're too tired for passengers," Sunstreaker said, his voice mod entirely too wintry to manage anything like coy.
"Fuck you," Sam said tiredly, slouching into the passenger seat.
"You already attempted that," Sunstreaker reminded him. His holo vanished as he pulled out, not bothering with a facsimile of a driver as he turned onto the main street and sped away, Sideswipe close behind him.
It wasn't worth telling him to shut up, all the worse because he was right. All the bitching in the world that it hadn't really been his fault didn't make it any less true.
"Bumblebee would kill you if you tried it again," Sam muttered. He looked out the side window at the blur of houses, watched as they made their way swiftly to the city limits.
"I'm not afraid of your little tin protector," Sunstreaker sneered, his voice thin and staticy through Sideswipe's speakers. Sam wondered why Sideswipe was even letting him hear his brother, then wondered if maybe he couldn't stop him. No other Autobot aside from Ratchet could easily break through another's firewalls, Sam knew, but they shared a spark. It was possible they couldn't keep each other out and Sam shivered a little thinking about it, about Sideswipe having to endure this constant presence.
"If you hate him so much, why did you bother saving him?" Sam snapped out, finally. "You almost killed yourself doing it, for what? So you can hold it over his head for a thousand years?"
Silent and Sam thought Sunstreaker was too pissed to answer. The radio cracked faintly as Sunstreaker said slowly, "He's an Autobot."
"So what?"
"I do not play with emotions or pretend to care when I don't," Sunstreaker always sounded cold, wintry words and touch, but now his voice mod was pure black ice, arctic depths. "But don't you ever believe I would sacrifice one of my own to the Decepticons."
"I never believed that," Sideswipe disagreed softly, aloud, letting Sam hear him when he certainly didn't have to.
"Of course you do, brother," Sunstreaker said scathingly. "You believe I am capable of anything."
"In most cases, you are."
His laughter at least was honest, bitter humor. "I'm sure it would be safer for everyone concerned if you never forget that."
"I—" Sam started, words he bit off abruptly, barely managing to gasp out a cry as every muscle in his body abruptly clenched into pain. Enormous, eye wateringly sharp, and Sam convulsed helplessly, felt a distant secondary hurt as he bit his lip, the warm rush of blood flowing down his chin. He jerked painfully against the seatbelt, tasting the hot iron tang of his own blood and God, hurt, it hurt—
"Hurts!" he moaned, shrill and panicked, "God…hurts…make it stop! Make it stop, it hurts…!" His voice rose into a wordless scream as he struggled against the seatbelt and the confines of the car around him, his hands scrabbling helplessly against the door and the middle console.
"Sam!" Hands against him, yes, the seatbelt snaking away and Sam tried to lunge into those arms, yes, touch, that would help, the arcing pain through him like being electrocuted and it wouldn't stop, barely faded as he managed to force one of those hands beneath his shirt to press against bare skin.
"Yes," Sam breathed, "Yes, more, yes, touch me…more, more." He was begging shamelessly, clutching those hands against his bare skin and his panic rose as they refused to move. "More!" he nearly screamed it. "I need it, I need it, more."
Babbling out words, a rush of desperate nonsense.
"Sam…" Sideswipe's voice was as weak as his touch, his hands limp under Sam's, moving only when Sam forced them. "Sam, I can't do this, I can't—"
"You'd rather he go into a coma?" Sunstreaker, Sam realized dimly, and he couldn't care about his cool amusement, only wanted touch, touch would make the pain stop, he knew that, he knew. "We couldn't get back to base in time for the little insect to help him if we had transwarp engines."
None of it really registered to Sam. His attention was all on those hands, cool but not unnaturally so, warming against his skin as he tried to force them lower, lower, down to where he was so painfully hard, all the agony in his body focusing there with diamond-sharp precision. And still there was resistance, Sideswipe refusing to obey and only lingering beneath his shirt. One of his fingers brushed against Sam's nipple and he gave a choke cry, arching up in a near convulsion.
"Sideswipe, give the boy what he needs or I will," Sunstreaker, gleefully taunting. "I think he'd be very receptive."
"Bastard," Sideswipe hissed, his fingertips digging lightly into Sam's chest.
"Better than a coward."
Silence, nothing but Sam's whimpers and panicked gasps for breath as he writhed between the seat and Sideswipe's reluctant hands. The pain was growing again, washing over him in rising waves, and Sam let out a near sob, tasted another surge of blood as his teeth caught against his already wounded lip.
"Sam," Sideswipe whispered urgently against his ear. "I want you to listen to me, can you do that?"
"Yes," Sam whimpered. Lust was overshadowed by pain, pain, please just make it stop.
"I want you to touch yourself, can you do that?"
For a moment, Sam didn't understand him, couldn't, only felt his fingertips graze lower, to the fly of his pants and he lurched towards the touch, couldn't even feel humiliation as Sideswipe pulled away and grabbed his hands, forcing his fingers to wrap around the heavy heat of his own erection, gripping his cock firmly.
He shook his head before he could even form words, felt the trickles of sweat sliding down his temples even with the cold air blasting from the vents. "No!" Sam wailed, "No, I need you, please, I need you!"
But Sideswipe was touching him nowhere but the back of his hand, his grip unrelenting as he forced Sam to move, one hard stroke, another, and there was some pleasure, too much of a relief to actually feel good, but he hesitantly did it again, obeying Sideswipe's unspoken command.
"I need more…touch me," Sam pleaded, indescribably wounded at the distance between them.
"I am," Sideswipe soothed him, "I'm all around you, you can draw from me, Sam. I'm touching you. Beneath you, against you, I'm here, Sam, I'm here." A comforting drone of words as he stroked himself but…no, not enough touch.
Sam shook his head wildly, licking his lips to taste his own sweat and blood, "I can't, please…"
"Yes, you can," Sideswipe squeezed his hand, firmly, "You can, I'm here, reach for me."
He was trying, Sam couldn't say, he needed it so much. The pain was lessening, easing into desire and he arched hesitantly into his own hand, the familiarity of his own grip as he tightened it.
"Yes, Sam, that's…stop that!" So sharply that Sam did, eyes flaring open in startlement. He caught a glimpse of Sideswipe's face close to his own, eyes shut tight.
"Not you, Sam," Sideswipe immediately reassured him, the lightest pressure of his fingertips against Sam's wrist. "Touch yourself, make yourself feel good."
He did, hardly able to stop himself again but Sam hadn't imagine Sideswipe's soft moan. Managed to open his eyes the barest slit and saw Sunstreaker was curled around Sideswipe, the both of them sprawled into what little cramped space that the driver's seat had to offer. There was nothing particularly sexual in the embrace, his arms curled tight around Sideswipe's chest, eyes glittering fiercely. Sam had always equated Sunstreaker with cold, no part of him living up to his name. Until now and here there was his inner heat, burning as hot as a blue flame, and Sam couldn't look away from it, felt the stirring of a sending and he caught it automatically, as sharply as if Sunstreaker had screamed it into his head.
Mine.
Yours, Sam agreed dimly, even as he felt the sweet, hot rush of connection, even as he came into his own hand, felt the hot spurts of his own orgasm against his palm and the surge of energy, his receptors greedily drinking it in from anyone who was offering, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Sam had no damned idea except he could suddenly relax, pain easing.
The sound of sirens was the first thing that registered to him, distant yet, but visible, and Sam looked through the back windows a little wildly, wondering if maybe Deputy Harper had taken the time to run Sideswipe's plates. Only the flashing lights were coming from in front of them, approaching rapidly.
"Is that Prowl?" Sam asked, uncertainly, and he was abruptly aware of how he looked. Stained pants and shirt, he felt and surely looked well-used, and Autobots who could sense arousal pheromones were hardly going to miss the smell of come all around them.
The sudden burst of Cybertronian through Sideswipe's speakers was loud enough to make Sam wince and he repeated it as his receptors helpfully translated the string of foul swearing into something he could almost comprehend, all of it directed towards Sunstreaker.
"I told you we'd never make it to the base and I meant it," Sunstreaker said and for once there was nothing like gloating in his voice mod, only calmness. "I had no idea they were going to meet us halfway. I've been cut off from communications since I left."
They, Sam saw with growing horror, were the main contingency of Autobots on the planet, all heading towards them with the same speed and urgency that they had when they'd been on their way to Mission City. Conspicuous in his absence was Bumblebee, no sign of the yellow Camaro in the procession drawing rapidly towards them.
"Completely cut off?" Sideswipe snapped out, clearly not believing him.
"You don't really think they let me out for a midnight drive, do you?" Sunstreaker said waspishly. "I had to sneak out! I'll be lucky to survive Ironhide's wrath when he sees what I did to his sensor array."
"Afraid of Ironhide?" Sam asked bitingly, unable to help himself.
"Hardly, you witless little ape," Sunstreaker hissed out with a burst of static, "But neither am I a fool."
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both slowed as the others came closer, Optimus in the lead, and when they finally met, both Vipers pulled off onto the shoulder, giving Optimus wide berth as he came to a stop.
This was all his fault. No matter what ideas Mikaela had come up with or how fucking annoying Sunstreaker was, this was all his fault and the realization that he had nearly died more than once tonight was sinking in hard. Sam took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out to face Optimus as he transformed beside them, heedless of any other humans on the remote stretch of highway.
Before he could speak, Optimus beat him to it, saying only, "Sam. Go with Ratchet."
"Wait," Sam started, this was his fault and the twins were going to suffer for it. The others were in a near semi-circle around Optimus, all of them facing the twins and this sure as hell didn't seem like they were just in disgrace with their superiors like Sideswipe had mentioned earlier. This looked more like a firing squad and how the others could look so cold and disapproving while still in their car forms was something Sam didn't have time to speculate about.
"No, this is my fault, it's not them—" Sam tried and Optimus cut him off sharply.
"Go with Ratchet. Now," he ordered and his voice reverberated like thunder.
"Go, Sam," Sideswipe said, so softly. He didn't transform and neither did Sunstreaker, who was noticeably silent next to him.
They weren't going to listen to him, Sam realized with growing dread. This was all his fault and they weren't going to listen. With sudden, impotent fury Sam slammed the door shut as hard as he could, nearly running over to where Ratchet was waiting, his engine idling. He'd barely climbed in when Ratchet took off in a bleat of sirens, speeding down the highway as Sam hastily buckled his seatbelt. He turned back enough to look behind them, watched as Sideswipe finally transformed and then they were too far away for him to see anything else, only a blur of lights that rapidly faded as they drove into the blackness of the highway.
~~*~~
The drive had seemed much shorter on the way to the city, Sam decided tiredly. Exhaustion was gnawing at him like an ache, the clock in the silent radio declaring that it was well past one am.
Ratchet hadn't said a word to him and the silence was worse than his exhaustion. This whole thing was his fault and right now he almost wanted the lecture, if only to get it over with.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Sam asked finally, barely more than a whisper.
"Perhaps in a moment," Ratchet said curtly. His headlights flared into brights for a moment before flicking back to normal. "Currently, I am going through various algorithms in an attempt to calm myself before speaking. I calculate the odds of me saying something at this moment that you would consider unforgivable or emotionally damaging is too high to risk."
Sam swallowed hard. "Oh."
Somehow he didn't think the word 'lecture' was going to cover it when Ratchet finally did decide he was calm enough to talk. He didn't have to wait long.
"Perhaps you misunderstood me when I told you that if you had any questions, I would be happy to address them with you," Ratchet said scathingly.
"No," Sam murmured. "I just—"
"That must be the case because it's the only reason I can conceive of that you would sneak off base in order to test a crackpot theory that I could have easily told you was incorrect. I spoke with Mikaela when Prowl returned with her," Ratchet said. He sounded disgusted and Sam cringed against his seatbelt. "Your receptors didn't activate until Bumblebee was attacked by the virus. Until then, they were lying dormant within you."
"Oh," Sam said weakly.
"Oh," Ratchet mimicked grimly. "And instead of simply asking, you stupidly left a military establishment in secret, cause a great deal of upset amongst all of the soldiers, human and Autobot alike when we discovered you were missing, were nearly killed by the Decepticons and may I remind you they are the reason you were with us to begin with, for your protection, not to mention that neither you nor either of your comrades in arms told us where you were, Sideswipe shut off his tracking devices which is a fairly high offense—"
"What's going to happen to him? Sam interrupted. His guilt had doubled, quadrupled, thick enough that his chest hurt with it, God, he was so stupid.
"Be more concerned with what is going to happen to you!" Ratchet nearly roared. "He and Sunstreaker will get their much-earned punishments on their own!"
"It was my fault and they shouldn't be getting into trouble for it!" Sam shouted back, his voice cracking.
"Yes, I'm quite certain that you hijacked Sideswipe at gunpoint," Ratchet said dryly but his voice mod was calmer. "Sunstreaker, on the other hand…" a simulated sigh came through Ratchet's speaker. "They are Optimus's concern, not yours."
"Not if they are in trouble because of me," Sam insisted stubbornly.
There was a long silence, nothing but the drone of Ratchet's tires on the road. The soft chuckle startled him, Sam warily looking at the speakers for lack of a face to glare at with Ratchet in this form.
"I believe we'd be better served to discuss this tomorrow," Ratchet said finally, "When you've had a chance to settle yourself."
"I'd rather get it over with now." Sam slouched back in the seat, glaring with some distaste down at his ruined clothes. Now that he wasn't crying in agony for power, the memory made him cringe. Shit, he'd been begging for Sideswipe to…to do things with him. To him. Tomorrow Ratchet might want to yell at him but Sam would be more than happy to yell back that it was time for them to figure out how to fix this.
"Except your wishes are not paramount at the moment," Ratchet said curtly, all traces of humor vanished.
Sam didn't bother to answer, just watched as Autobot city loomed closer, the lights as brilliant as freaking Vegas in the middle of the desert. It looked spectacular, really, and he wondered what it looked like from a distance, wondered if other humans who weren't in the know looked at it and whispered about Area 51 and never knew just how right they really were.
Ratchet didn't talk to him again as they went through the clearance checkpoint and Sideswipe had certainly been right, it was a lot longer this time as they ran full scanning sweeps over them, checking for concealed Decepticons. They never would have been able to make it back in here without being caught but if he'd been a little more careful, they wouldn't have had to break out of a damned jail cell and nearly get killed. Stupid, stupid…
To his surprise, Sam realized that Ratchet wasn't taking him back to his own quarters, heading towards the infirmary instead. Were they going to keep him there overnight, Sam wondered, a little panicky. Maybe they were going to lock him up as a punishment, not that he didn't deserve it, but nervous fear was starting to churn nauseously in his gut.
"What—" Sam started, trailed away as they turned the last corner and he saw Bumblebee, both as a robot and a holo, sitting outside the infirmary.
"Optimus forced him to stay here, as he was in no state to be on the roads," Ratchet informed him tartly, as he slowed to a stop. "I had to threaten to power him down before he finally agreed. I suggest you take this opportunity to talk to him, for once. At the very least you should trust him, don't you think?"
The door swung open without another word and Sam climbed out slowly, fully aware of how he looked. Stained and ragged, exhausted and very much like he'd been…well, like he'd been fucking around, wasn't that the truth of it? He'd screwed this up in every way possible and the only excuse he had was that he'd been scared. It seemed far too feeble a way to explain and Sam barely registered it as Ratchet drove away and left the two of them alone.
Bumblebee's holo form was sitting on the ground, leaning against the side of the building with his knees drawn up, his clasped hands dangling between his spread legs. He was curled into himself, shoulders hunched as if to make himself smaller but this was Bumblebee who'd been his best friend before he'd been anything else and maybe Sam had screwed this up beyond all repair but this was Bee and he deserved better.
He didn't look up as Sam walked up to him, his gaze focused on his hands. Silently, Sam sat down next to him, mimicking his posture. For a long moment, they only sat, listening to the distant sounds of Autobot city which never really fell silent, full of beings that didn't need much in the way of nighttime rest.
"Hey," Sam said, softly, finally breaking the silence.
"Hey," Bee said, his eyes still on his hands.
Again, silence. "Can...can I ask you something?"
"Anything." There was a deeper wealth of emotion to that single word that had Sam closing his eyes, taking a long, slow breath before he tugged up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing the dark lines of Cybertronian embedded in his skin.
He ran the tip of his finger over his tattoo, the feel of it indistinguishable from the rest of his skin. "What does this mean?" Sam asked, quietly.
A faint smile touched Bee's mouth but he didn't look up. "It's my name."
Sam frowned. "I've tried to read it before. It doesn't say Bumblebee."
"No," Bee agreed. He rubbed his fingers together lightly, absently. "It's my real name."
"Oh," Sam said, a little raggedly. Of course his real name wasn't Bumblebee, Sam had known that for a long time. "How--how do you say it?"
Cybertronian always sounded faintly like static to him but this sounded more sibilant, a word to be rolled off the tongue and savored. Sam attempted to repeat it with little success. The Human larynx just wasn't made for those particular sounds, not like a voice capacitor was.
"I think I better stick with Bumblebee," Sam said with a sad little laugh.
"It's customary for Autobots in a committed relationship to exchange names," Bee said, a little haltingly. "I should have asked your permission before I did so but at the time," he trailed off, shrugging a little. "It's not a true tattoo. I can remove it if you wish."
"No!" Sam burst out. "No, I want it."
"All right," Bee said, still so soft.
Guilt, thick and heavy in his throat and for one, desperate moment, Sam wished Bumblebee would shout at him, lecture him, anything instead of this calm sadness. Like it was already over and nothing Sam said would make a difference, any more than it had when he tried to talk to Optimus.
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, because maybe it was too late but he couldn't not apologize, had to at least try.
"Stop," Bee said, holding up a hand and Sam did, eyes stinging. With slow deliberation, Bumblebee reached over and very lightly trailed his fingertips over the back of Sam's hand before gently grasping it and tugging. "Come here?"
Pulled Sam up until he was straddling Bee's lap, Bumblebee's legs against his back, supporting him and when Bee wrapped his arms around Sam, he gave up, gave in, and just buried himself into the comforting embrace, uncaring of who might see them. After tonight, he'd be happy to kiss Bumblebee in the middle of the mess hall so long as he didn't leave and damn, but Sam wouldn't blame him if he did. Ratchet was right, he was so stupid, he'd risked everything and for what? Because he was afraid?
Bumblebee was holding him almost too tight but Sam didn't care, breathing shallowly as Bee clung to him, making shuddery little sounds that were nothing like human.
"You could have been killed," Bee whispered fiercely.
"I'm sorry--" he began, bit his tongue when Bumblebee shook him roughly, fingers digging hard into Sam's upper arms.
"You could have been killed! Or worse, if they hadn't wanted you dead, if they'd captured you instead." Again, he made that shuddery sound, inhuman but not wrong, Bumblebee wasn't human, and Sam didn't care one damned bit.
Sam abruptly realized Bee wasn't shaking, he was wavering, briefly less than substantial but before Sam sank more than a couple inches he snapped back into being, firm and solid.
"I'm so sorry," Sam whispered again, clinging hard, burying his face into Bumblebee's neck.
"You don't need to apologize to me, Sam. Just promise me you'll never do anything so foolish again. Please," he begged, unashamed.
"I promise," Sam said, raggedly, "But I do need to apologize, I fucked up so much."
"No," Bee shook his head. "Not this. Not me."
"You don't understand."
"Then make me understand. Tell me."
Tell him. Talk to him like Ratchet had said. Bumblebee had told him he hadn't screwed them up but he didn't know everything and Sam owed him the truth, owed him the chance to know exactly what he was forgiving. "I thought...I thought the receptors were making me feel things aside from horny," Sam started, slowly.
"You were afraid," Bee said, lightly stroking Sam's back. His touch with soothing in more than one way and Sam sighed appreciatively, tension that he hadn't even been aware of ebbing. "And that was not an irrational assumption to make. One that Ratchet could have alleviated if he'd told you before that your receptors were inactive when we began our relationship. Or that you could have if you'd only asked," he added, infinitely more gentle.
"I know, I should have asked. I'm so sorry--"
Bee shushed him. "I told you, no apologies."
"When I broke my arm a few days ago, I didn't fall," Sam swallowed hard. This was harder and he'd promised Sideswipe, but it was Bumblebee's choice, too. "I went-- it's hard to explain but I went to see Sideswipe and I accidentally met Sunstreaker instead. He...he didn't mean to, I just--the receptors made me want him and he--"
"He took advantage of the situation as he frequently does," Bee said tersely. His hands still briefly, tightening into fists but they relaxed as Sam's heart stuttered in his chest, resumed their gentle petting.
"It wasn't his fault," Sam admitted, softly. "I was all over him."
"You are a very young human male who is dealing with unprecedented issues in regards to control. He is a slagging piece of tin who is several thousand of your years old and has been tricking organics into sexual relationships for almost as long."
Okay, yes, but Sam still wasn't convinced. "He's not all right in the head."
"He is very close to being not all right in his body as well."
Well, this was going just dandy. He'd already gotten Sideswipe into a shitload of trouble and now he was about to get his brother/lover killed. The memory of Sunstreaker clutching Sideswipe against him was still clear in his mind and maybe their relationship was seriously screwed up, but hell, who was Sam to talk? "He saved your life," Sam pointed out.
"Yours as well. And that is precisely what is saving his."
"You're a lot calmer about this than I expected," Sam said, suspiciously. He pulled back and Bee met his eyes calmly. "You knew," Sam breathed. "You knew and you didn't say anything?"
"I didn't know. But my probability calculations indicted that this was a possible scenario," Bumblebee admitted quietly. "I was waiting for you to tell me. Had I considered you might nearly be killed in trying to avoid that, I would have brought it up myself."
"You knew," Sam repeated, struggling a little and Bee let him go immediately. Only, once he was free Sam wasn't sure he really wanted to move and instead he sat there, his hands limp between them. "You knew about that and then, tonight--"
"Sideswipe already sent me the details about that," Bumblebee said quietly. "Sam, I am hardly going to be upset with either of you for engaging in something that saved your life. Until your receptors accept that there are other ways for them to repower, your choices are somewhat limited in that regard."
"So you're just fine that I've been fooling around with the twins behind your back?" Sam said, and there was no hiding the faint bitterness in his voice because he sure as fuck wasn't all right with it, so he couldn't begin to understand how Bee was.
"Just fine with it?" Bee repeated, eyes suddenly blazing with an inhuman light. "Just fine with it…come on." He was on his feet in an instant, startling Sam as he easily lifted him, carrying him as his other half transformed, doors flying open just in time for Bee to set Sam firmly into the passenger seat. His holo didn't bother to follow, vanishing as soon as the door was shut and they sped away in a squeal of tires. They were going to the outskirts of the city, Sam realized, quickly hitting a speed that no sane human would attempt on this kind of road. Or lack thereof as they hit the hard packed dirt that surrounded the city.
Only Bumblebee wasn't human and Sam wasn't entirely sure he wanted to classify himself as sane tonight. Tomorrow there were bound to be lectures and punishments, and he'd be wallowing in guilt over the twins, and Mikaela who'd at least made it back all right. Tomorrow he could deal with the regrets.
Tonight, Sam whooped with laughter, the radio suddenly blaring to life with loud music as Bumblebee went even faster, taking Sam who the hell knew where and Sam didn't care a damned bit where they went, so long as he was with Bumblebee. Tomorrow they would deal with everything but for tonight he was here.
I love you so much, Sam thought, helplessly, and he knew he didn't imagine the faint flicker of response, as sweet and gentle as the softest kiss.
Yeah, he was here tonight and tomorrow could damn well take care of itself.
-finis-
Read Next Chapter
By Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Bumblebee/Sam, Others
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
Half to Rise, Half to Fall
Moments of Forgiveness
Topics of Conversation
Lies of Omission
The Theory of Existence
Beyond My Brave Facade
Parental Interaction In The Third Degree
Field Trips Into the Hypothetical
Also the AU Attention Getting Device
Notes: Yeesh, I've written stories that are shorter than this chapter. Heh, sorry about the sappy title, I couldn't help myself. ;)
Please enjoy!
~~*~~
In his one other experience in actually being arrested, Sam hadn't actually seen a jail cell. After the handcuffs had come off and he'd called his parents all he'd gotten out of the rest of the experience was a cup of truly awful coffee and chat with the Martin Riggs of his local police force.
Thus far, he couldn't say that Paxton City had much more to recommend to prospective detainees. Neither of them had ended up in handcuffs, this was true, but sitting in the only cell in the basement of the world's tiniest Sheriff's department wasn't much of an improvement.
"Aren't they supposed to read us our rights or something?" Sam asked, not moving from his sprawl on the thin mattress of his cot. He had an arm flung over his eyes, blocking the harsh glow of the fluorescents streaming down on them from wire caged fixtures. The cell was stifling hot even though the sun had gone hours ago and Sam's shirt was clinging damply to him.
"I'm not completely familiar with criminal law in your country, but I think he only has to do that if he officially arrests us. Right now, we are only being detained." Sideswipe was sitting on his own bunk stiffly and Sam wondered what anyone else would think of his odd posture, unmoving except for his lips as he spoke; conserving energy by using the barest necessity of power. He'd even stopped blinking and it was weird to realize just how much effort must go into making their Holos seem real. Breathing, talking, blinking, body temperature, so many tiny little details. Bee really was brilliant at this, he realized, and Sideswipe obviously wasn't bad himself if the difference was so obvious.
"Detained. That's great," Sam snorted. They had taken their names, ranks, and serial numbers…well, in Sam's case his name and driver's license number, before locking them up in here. On the plus side, the deputy wasn't being a total dick.
He'd passed them off to another Deputy, the Ann from the radio turned out to be a young brunette and she had been all business. Names and I.D. number, then blow into the breathalyzer and Sam wished he could say it was the first time he'd done that. Back in his hometown all the police had needed to do was spot Bumblebee and Sam would know he was in for another impromptu fifteen minute test of his sobriety. Sideswipe had barely spoken, murmuring the name Stephen Collins, whoever the hell that was. Sam hoped that there was a fake I.D. attached to it from somewhere.
"You know, even if they give us one phone call, I don't have anyone I can call," Sam said. Might as well revel in the misery of the situation. "They'll probably end up fingerprinting us and then arrest us for real."
"That would be inconvenient since I don't even have fingerprints," Sideswipe said ruefully. His fingers twitched just a little, as though he was considering what to do about it. Aside from simply existing, Sam hoped like hell that whoever Stephen Collins was, he didn't have a record.
Sam rolled over to lie on his side, watching Sideswipe in his creepy, no-moving mode. "And what about Mikaela? We left her all alone at that bar. She's probably freaking out by now."
"We've been gone approximately three hours, so I'm certain they've noticed you missing and are in search of us. Even so, she probably contacted Prowl for a ride."
"Contacted Prowl?" Sam frowned, leaning up on one elbow, "How? Did she get in on the wrist communicators or something?"
Sideswipe face moved the tinest bit, eyebrows drawing down faintly in visible confusion. "I believe you refer to the technology as cell phones," he said dryly.
"Oh." Sam flopped back on the bed. When they got back, if Ratchet and Bumblebee ever forgave him, he was definitely getting a new cell phone. And programming the numbers to every damned Autobot into it. Come to think of it, he had a non-living, non-breathing one sitting here with him right now. "Hey, if you guys have built in cell phones, can’t you contact them? Get them to post bail or whatever it is you do with detained people?"
"I'm afraid to take my focus out of this form," Sideswipe said and his voice did sound odd. Rougher, maybe. "If I do, I might not be able to maintain it and if that happens, I guarantee I won't be able to reform it. My knowledge about your police customs is solely based on the TV shows Cops and In the Heat of the Night, but even so, I can guess they wouldn't be happy to come back and find me gone."
"Sucks," Sam murmured, closing his eyes. It was so hot but he dimly realized that he was shivering a little despite it, a familiar ache rising slowly in him. Sweat was beading on his upper lip and he licked it again, tasted salt and faint moisture that only made thirst tighten in his throat. Oh, bad, bad timing, that greedy aching that heralded the depletion of power in his receptors was just beginning, an odd, rising soreness that he knew from past experience would just get worse. Why the hell was it taking them so long to figure out how to draw energy from him? Ratchet and Bumblebee had both taken a stab at explaining it to him, but a single receptor had to be at least as bright as the latest version of the Ipod. He was starting to think they just liked the sex they got out of the deal and wouldn't it just make sense that in a collection of alien robot perverts, he ended up with his own micro set.
"Are you all right?" Sideswipe asked abruptly. It sounded distant but Sideswipe wasn't that far away, only a couple of feet and Sam's eyes felt too heavy to open enough to look at him, that achy, itchy sensation lingering just under his skin was collecting low in his belly, rising heat and he knew exactly what happened after this. After this, Bumblebee came to him and usually managed some truly inspiring variation of sex. The very best that the porn industry had nothing on an alien with instant access to Google.
"Sam?" Sharper this time, demanding an answer and with a tremendous effort Sam managed to open his eyes. Some life had leaked back into Sideswipe's still form, concern visible on his face.
"Yeah," Sam replied, dimly surprised at the thickness in his own voice, the heavy sound of growing need, "I just haven't seen Bee since this morning."
Sideswipe gaped openly at him, "Are you crazy? Did either of you put any thought at all into this idiotic plan…no, don't even answer. It's obvious you didn't."
The world seemed scalding and wavery, the shimmer of the desert without the glow of the sun and through it, Sam watched Sideswipe carefully stand, shifting in slow, faltering steps to sit down on the edge of the bunk. He raised a hand and hesitated there before uncertainly setting it on Sam's chest, just over his heart. The feel of it made Sam want to squirm, arch up and beg but all he could manage was a feeble moan.
It wasn't much but that light contact must have offered him something because Sam's vision cleared a little and he managed to raise his own hand, settle it over Sideswipe's.
"My power cells aren't doing that great either," Sideswipe said grimly. "We need to get out of here before they come back to find one unconscious prisoner and one vanished."
"Yeah," Sam agreed, barely hearing him. All he wanted was that touch, for Sideswipe to touch him more and then he'd feel better, he knew he would. Helplessly, he tried to push Sideswipe's hand lower, just a little, down to where he was so, so hot, knew that cool fingers would feel so good against him. But Sideswipe was as unmovable as a brick wall. His touch on Sam's chest was firm, gave him the tiniest sense of contact/electric blue/contact, but it refused Sam's attempts to move it someplace better.
Above him he heard a sharp word in Cybertronian, one that didn't need translation as Sideswipe added a short, "Fucking hell!" under his breath.
He stood, let Sam keep clinging to his hand when he immediately started to protest, allowing him to twine their fingers together. "Officer," Sideswipe called, then a little louder, "Officer, please, my friend isn't well—"
Like that was going to work, Sam couldn't say. That was like, a classic ploy in the villain handbook. Play sick and get them close enough to take them out. Even Paxton City cops had to know better than that. Only to his dim surprise, an officer did come down only it wasn't Ann or Deputy Harper, this guy was in a State Trooper uniform, not a Sheriff and there was something odd about him, something that made uneasiness slither up Sam's spine.
He had one frozen moment to see Sideswipe's expression change, to watch him move in a blur of motion to pull Sam off the bed and onto the floor, covering him with his own body.
"DOWN!"
Later, Sam couldn't even remember if it had been a verbal shout or just a burst of sound thrust directly into his head but in the end, it didn't matter. He didn't even have a chance to respond to it, only buried his face against Sideswipe's chest, fingers clutching at the front of his shirt as Sideswipe wrapped both of his arms around Sam's head. He could feel the abrupt surge of energy around him and knew without asking that Sideswipe had put up some sort of shield around them, all in a matter of an instant but still barely in time as a rain of blasts fell over them along with a shower of sparks from impact on the concrete floor around them.
It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, Sam could feel the heat of those blasts even through the shield and Sideswipe himself, hot enough to make him flinch and instinctively cringe harder into the floor. There was a low sound against his ear, sharp and pained, and Sam abruptly opened his eyes. Autobots felt pain even in their Holo forms, certainly Bumblebee had, and maybe Sideswipe wouldn't die but he could certainly hurt and from the rising sound against Sam's ear, he could hurt a lot.
He was weakening, shaking over Sam as blistering shots of plasma rained down on them and it felt utterly natural to reach out and push, shoring up the faltering shields around them. How he did it he couldn't have said; it was as easy as breathing, reaching out and pushing his own energy into it until the low keening in his ear faded and Sideswipe relaxed a fraction against him. No connection, not with this one, but he was close, so close, and Sam…Sam didn't love him, didn't, but he felt something. Something.
It ended as abruptly as it began, the ringing in Sam's ears slowly fading as Sideswipe lifted his head. The concrete around them was pitted and crumbling, the outline of their bodies the only clear spot left in the entire cell but the state cop, who sure as fuck wasn't, was gone, not so much as a dusting of dead receptors still hanging in the air.
"Come on," Sideswipe said sharply, and Sam barely took his hand before Sideswipe pushed him against the bars, covering him with his own body again.
"What—" Sam started only to be cut off by an explosion of concrete, clouds of dust rising until he was coughing and spitting, squinting through the debris in the direction of what used to be a barred window.
"Sideswipe!" Loudly, from outside, and Sam was already following it, crawling over chunks of concrete and the twisted remains of the camp beds.
"Go, go, go!" Sideswipe shoved him hard, his voice already dissolving into static as he faded and was finally gone, the last of his auxiliary receptors used up. Breaking out of jail would have seemed like overkill just five minutes ago but now with one half of the cell crumbling in on itself and what was almost certainly Decepticons trying to murder him, it was definitely the best option on the table. Still coughing, Sam went in the direction that Sideswipe pushed him, crawling haphazardly up the remains of the outer wall. It was slow going, chunks of wall falling away sending him sliding down as often as they provided handholds to get him up and it seemed to take forever to get close to ground level. A hand reached down to him and Sam took it unthinkingly, barely noticing its inhuman chill until he was face to face with its owner on the sidewalk outside.
He blinked a little at his rescuer, felt the irritating cling of dust in his lashes and caked on his face before he said without considering, "What the hell are you doing here?"
It was fascinating how much Sunstreaker looked like Sideswipe and yet not at all. Aside from their coloring, the lines of their face were a perfect mirror match, nothing that human twins could ever hope to achieve. It was the unmistakable coldness in his eyes that would always give him away, the icy humor was never an expression Sideswipe had worn.
"Humans really have no idea how to express gratitude, do they?" Sunstreaker observed blandly. He was still holding Sam's hand, one thumb stroking lightly over the knuckles. Sam yanked it free and Sunstreaker released him immediately, that single touch still crackling in his eyes.
"Thanks," Sam snapped out. He knew entirely too much about Sunstreaker's idea of expressing gratitude as it was. "And you didn't answer my question."
"I don't need to be a communications officer to know when he's in trouble," Sunstreaker said coolly. His gaze flicked behind Sam, observing his brother as his alternate form drove up beside them. "I came as soon as I felt your agitation."
"And never have I been more grateful," Sideswipe said wearily.
"Oh, but I have your gratitude? Well, this is a day for miracles, isn't it," Sunstreaker watched his twin dispassionately. "You're almost out of power and he's not much better. Let's get out of here, shall we?"
He turned away without waiting to see if they followed , his car form turning into the parking lot and driving up to them. Sunstreaker braked silently right in front of Sam and opened his passenger side door invitingly. Ignoring that entirely, Sam walked around him to his brother, opening the passenger side himself. He'd walk back to base with a dozen Decepticons shooting at him at once before he'd ride with Sunstreaker.
"Wait," Sam hesitated, one hand still on the door handle as he turned to look at the Sheriff's office. Deputy Harper's car was still parked out front and no one else had come in yet to check out the smoking remains of the former jail cell. "That Deputy, Ann, we can't just leave them, what if they're hurt--"
"Decepticons either ignore humans or kill them. Either way, there's nothing you could do about it," Sunstreaker said bluntly. Sideswipe said something too quick and sharp for Sam to translate but his twin's sullen expression didn't make it hard to grasp.
"I can detect two heartbeats inside," Sideswipe said after a moment, "They are not in distress so I would say he knocked them unconscious before coming after us."
"Who came after us?" Sam demanded, although he had his suspicions.
Suspicions that were confirmed with one word. "Barricade," Sunstreaker said shortly. "I saw him when I arrived. Took out his holographic relay before he noticed me. I trust that was helpful?"
"Yeah, it was," Sam said honestly. Damn it, he probably owed Sunstreaker his life. Sideswipe probably hadn't dared to focus on his mech half for fear of losing control over his holoform and leaving Sam defenseless. They had literally been caught in a deadly catch-22 until Sunstreaker had arrived.
"He took off into the city. Alone," Sunstreaker added, his holo leaning against his own driver's side door, arms crossed over his chest as he raised an eyebrow at his twin.
"We are not to engage at this time, Sunstreaker," Sideswipe said sharply. "Too many humans, including this one."
"I don't need you to tell me that a bear shits in the woods," Sunstreaker said but his eyes were gleaming with an unholy light that made Sam think of glee. Sick bastard probably loved arguing with his brother, with anyone, and he'd probably delight in tearing down this city just to get one Decepticon.
Issues, hell, Sunstreaker was an entire catalogue of malfunctions as far as Sam was concerned.
He startled a little as Sideswipe's door shifted against him, encouragingly, "Get in. We need to leave, now."
They did. Already he could hear sirens coming up the street, other officers coming to find out what the hell had happened and lingering around the remains of a jail cell seemed like the very epitome of bad idea.
"He could ride with me, if you're too tired for passengers," Sunstreaker said, his voice mod entirely too wintry to manage anything like coy.
"Fuck you," Sam said tiredly, slouching into the passenger seat.
"You already attempted that," Sunstreaker reminded him. His holo vanished as he pulled out, not bothering with a facsimile of a driver as he turned onto the main street and sped away, Sideswipe close behind him.
It wasn't worth telling him to shut up, all the worse because he was right. All the bitching in the world that it hadn't really been his fault didn't make it any less true.
"Bumblebee would kill you if you tried it again," Sam muttered. He looked out the side window at the blur of houses, watched as they made their way swiftly to the city limits.
"I'm not afraid of your little tin protector," Sunstreaker sneered, his voice thin and staticy through Sideswipe's speakers. Sam wondered why Sideswipe was even letting him hear his brother, then wondered if maybe he couldn't stop him. No other Autobot aside from Ratchet could easily break through another's firewalls, Sam knew, but they shared a spark. It was possible they couldn't keep each other out and Sam shivered a little thinking about it, about Sideswipe having to endure this constant presence.
"If you hate him so much, why did you bother saving him?" Sam snapped out, finally. "You almost killed yourself doing it, for what? So you can hold it over his head for a thousand years?"
Silent and Sam thought Sunstreaker was too pissed to answer. The radio cracked faintly as Sunstreaker said slowly, "He's an Autobot."
"So what?"
"I do not play with emotions or pretend to care when I don't," Sunstreaker always sounded cold, wintry words and touch, but now his voice mod was pure black ice, arctic depths. "But don't you ever believe I would sacrifice one of my own to the Decepticons."
"I never believed that," Sideswipe disagreed softly, aloud, letting Sam hear him when he certainly didn't have to.
"Of course you do, brother," Sunstreaker said scathingly. "You believe I am capable of anything."
"In most cases, you are."
His laughter at least was honest, bitter humor. "I'm sure it would be safer for everyone concerned if you never forget that."
"I—" Sam started, words he bit off abruptly, barely managing to gasp out a cry as every muscle in his body abruptly clenched into pain. Enormous, eye wateringly sharp, and Sam convulsed helplessly, felt a distant secondary hurt as he bit his lip, the warm rush of blood flowing down his chin. He jerked painfully against the seatbelt, tasting the hot iron tang of his own blood and God, hurt, it hurt—
"Hurts!" he moaned, shrill and panicked, "God…hurts…make it stop! Make it stop, it hurts…!" His voice rose into a wordless scream as he struggled against the seatbelt and the confines of the car around him, his hands scrabbling helplessly against the door and the middle console.
"Sam!" Hands against him, yes, the seatbelt snaking away and Sam tried to lunge into those arms, yes, touch, that would help, the arcing pain through him like being electrocuted and it wouldn't stop, barely faded as he managed to force one of those hands beneath his shirt to press against bare skin.
"Yes," Sam breathed, "Yes, more, yes, touch me…more, more." He was begging shamelessly, clutching those hands against his bare skin and his panic rose as they refused to move. "More!" he nearly screamed it. "I need it, I need it, more."
Babbling out words, a rush of desperate nonsense.
"Sam…" Sideswipe's voice was as weak as his touch, his hands limp under Sam's, moving only when Sam forced them. "Sam, I can't do this, I can't—"
"You'd rather he go into a coma?" Sunstreaker, Sam realized dimly, and he couldn't care about his cool amusement, only wanted touch, touch would make the pain stop, he knew that, he knew. "We couldn't get back to base in time for the little insect to help him if we had transwarp engines."
None of it really registered to Sam. His attention was all on those hands, cool but not unnaturally so, warming against his skin as he tried to force them lower, lower, down to where he was so painfully hard, all the agony in his body focusing there with diamond-sharp precision. And still there was resistance, Sideswipe refusing to obey and only lingering beneath his shirt. One of his fingers brushed against Sam's nipple and he gave a choke cry, arching up in a near convulsion.
"Sideswipe, give the boy what he needs or I will," Sunstreaker, gleefully taunting. "I think he'd be very receptive."
"Bastard," Sideswipe hissed, his fingertips digging lightly into Sam's chest.
"Better than a coward."
Silence, nothing but Sam's whimpers and panicked gasps for breath as he writhed between the seat and Sideswipe's reluctant hands. The pain was growing again, washing over him in rising waves, and Sam let out a near sob, tasted another surge of blood as his teeth caught against his already wounded lip.
"Sam," Sideswipe whispered urgently against his ear. "I want you to listen to me, can you do that?"
"Yes," Sam whimpered. Lust was overshadowed by pain, pain, please just make it stop.
"I want you to touch yourself, can you do that?"
For a moment, Sam didn't understand him, couldn't, only felt his fingertips graze lower, to the fly of his pants and he lurched towards the touch, couldn't even feel humiliation as Sideswipe pulled away and grabbed his hands, forcing his fingers to wrap around the heavy heat of his own erection, gripping his cock firmly.
He shook his head before he could even form words, felt the trickles of sweat sliding down his temples even with the cold air blasting from the vents. "No!" Sam wailed, "No, I need you, please, I need you!"
But Sideswipe was touching him nowhere but the back of his hand, his grip unrelenting as he forced Sam to move, one hard stroke, another, and there was some pleasure, too much of a relief to actually feel good, but he hesitantly did it again, obeying Sideswipe's unspoken command.
"I need more…touch me," Sam pleaded, indescribably wounded at the distance between them.
"I am," Sideswipe soothed him, "I'm all around you, you can draw from me, Sam. I'm touching you. Beneath you, against you, I'm here, Sam, I'm here." A comforting drone of words as he stroked himself but…no, not enough touch.
Sam shook his head wildly, licking his lips to taste his own sweat and blood, "I can't, please…"
"Yes, you can," Sideswipe squeezed his hand, firmly, "You can, I'm here, reach for me."
He was trying, Sam couldn't say, he needed it so much. The pain was lessening, easing into desire and he arched hesitantly into his own hand, the familiarity of his own grip as he tightened it.
"Yes, Sam, that's…stop that!" So sharply that Sam did, eyes flaring open in startlement. He caught a glimpse of Sideswipe's face close to his own, eyes shut tight.
"Not you, Sam," Sideswipe immediately reassured him, the lightest pressure of his fingertips against Sam's wrist. "Touch yourself, make yourself feel good."
He did, hardly able to stop himself again but Sam hadn't imagine Sideswipe's soft moan. Managed to open his eyes the barest slit and saw Sunstreaker was curled around Sideswipe, the both of them sprawled into what little cramped space that the driver's seat had to offer. There was nothing particularly sexual in the embrace, his arms curled tight around Sideswipe's chest, eyes glittering fiercely. Sam had always equated Sunstreaker with cold, no part of him living up to his name. Until now and here there was his inner heat, burning as hot as a blue flame, and Sam couldn't look away from it, felt the stirring of a sending and he caught it automatically, as sharply as if Sunstreaker had screamed it into his head.
Mine.
Yours, Sam agreed dimly, even as he felt the sweet, hot rush of connection, even as he came into his own hand, felt the hot spurts of his own orgasm against his palm and the surge of energy, his receptors greedily drinking it in from anyone who was offering, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Sam had no damned idea except he could suddenly relax, pain easing.
The sound of sirens was the first thing that registered to him, distant yet, but visible, and Sam looked through the back windows a little wildly, wondering if maybe Deputy Harper had taken the time to run Sideswipe's plates. Only the flashing lights were coming from in front of them, approaching rapidly.
"Is that Prowl?" Sam asked, uncertainly, and he was abruptly aware of how he looked. Stained pants and shirt, he felt and surely looked well-used, and Autobots who could sense arousal pheromones were hardly going to miss the smell of come all around them.
The sudden burst of Cybertronian through Sideswipe's speakers was loud enough to make Sam wince and he repeated it as his receptors helpfully translated the string of foul swearing into something he could almost comprehend, all of it directed towards Sunstreaker.
"I told you we'd never make it to the base and I meant it," Sunstreaker said and for once there was nothing like gloating in his voice mod, only calmness. "I had no idea they were going to meet us halfway. I've been cut off from communications since I left."
They, Sam saw with growing horror, were the main contingency of Autobots on the planet, all heading towards them with the same speed and urgency that they had when they'd been on their way to Mission City. Conspicuous in his absence was Bumblebee, no sign of the yellow Camaro in the procession drawing rapidly towards them.
"Completely cut off?" Sideswipe snapped out, clearly not believing him.
"You don't really think they let me out for a midnight drive, do you?" Sunstreaker said waspishly. "I had to sneak out! I'll be lucky to survive Ironhide's wrath when he sees what I did to his sensor array."
"Afraid of Ironhide?" Sam asked bitingly, unable to help himself.
"Hardly, you witless little ape," Sunstreaker hissed out with a burst of static, "But neither am I a fool."
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both slowed as the others came closer, Optimus in the lead, and when they finally met, both Vipers pulled off onto the shoulder, giving Optimus wide berth as he came to a stop.
This was all his fault. No matter what ideas Mikaela had come up with or how fucking annoying Sunstreaker was, this was all his fault and the realization that he had nearly died more than once tonight was sinking in hard. Sam took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out to face Optimus as he transformed beside them, heedless of any other humans on the remote stretch of highway.
Before he could speak, Optimus beat him to it, saying only, "Sam. Go with Ratchet."
"Wait," Sam started, this was his fault and the twins were going to suffer for it. The others were in a near semi-circle around Optimus, all of them facing the twins and this sure as hell didn't seem like they were just in disgrace with their superiors like Sideswipe had mentioned earlier. This looked more like a firing squad and how the others could look so cold and disapproving while still in their car forms was something Sam didn't have time to speculate about.
"No, this is my fault, it's not them—" Sam tried and Optimus cut him off sharply.
"Go with Ratchet. Now," he ordered and his voice reverberated like thunder.
"Go, Sam," Sideswipe said, so softly. He didn't transform and neither did Sunstreaker, who was noticeably silent next to him.
They weren't going to listen to him, Sam realized with growing dread. This was all his fault and they weren't going to listen. With sudden, impotent fury Sam slammed the door shut as hard as he could, nearly running over to where Ratchet was waiting, his engine idling. He'd barely climbed in when Ratchet took off in a bleat of sirens, speeding down the highway as Sam hastily buckled his seatbelt. He turned back enough to look behind them, watched as Sideswipe finally transformed and then they were too far away for him to see anything else, only a blur of lights that rapidly faded as they drove into the blackness of the highway.
~~*~~
The drive had seemed much shorter on the way to the city, Sam decided tiredly. Exhaustion was gnawing at him like an ache, the clock in the silent radio declaring that it was well past one am.
Ratchet hadn't said a word to him and the silence was worse than his exhaustion. This whole thing was his fault and right now he almost wanted the lecture, if only to get it over with.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Sam asked finally, barely more than a whisper.
"Perhaps in a moment," Ratchet said curtly. His headlights flared into brights for a moment before flicking back to normal. "Currently, I am going through various algorithms in an attempt to calm myself before speaking. I calculate the odds of me saying something at this moment that you would consider unforgivable or emotionally damaging is too high to risk."
Sam swallowed hard. "Oh."
Somehow he didn't think the word 'lecture' was going to cover it when Ratchet finally did decide he was calm enough to talk. He didn't have to wait long.
"Perhaps you misunderstood me when I told you that if you had any questions, I would be happy to address them with you," Ratchet said scathingly.
"No," Sam murmured. "I just—"
"That must be the case because it's the only reason I can conceive of that you would sneak off base in order to test a crackpot theory that I could have easily told you was incorrect. I spoke with Mikaela when Prowl returned with her," Ratchet said. He sounded disgusted and Sam cringed against his seatbelt. "Your receptors didn't activate until Bumblebee was attacked by the virus. Until then, they were lying dormant within you."
"Oh," Sam said weakly.
"Oh," Ratchet mimicked grimly. "And instead of simply asking, you stupidly left a military establishment in secret, cause a great deal of upset amongst all of the soldiers, human and Autobot alike when we discovered you were missing, were nearly killed by the Decepticons and may I remind you they are the reason you were with us to begin with, for your protection, not to mention that neither you nor either of your comrades in arms told us where you were, Sideswipe shut off his tracking devices which is a fairly high offense—"
"What's going to happen to him? Sam interrupted. His guilt had doubled, quadrupled, thick enough that his chest hurt with it, God, he was so stupid.
"Be more concerned with what is going to happen to you!" Ratchet nearly roared. "He and Sunstreaker will get their much-earned punishments on their own!"
"It was my fault and they shouldn't be getting into trouble for it!" Sam shouted back, his voice cracking.
"Yes, I'm quite certain that you hijacked Sideswipe at gunpoint," Ratchet said dryly but his voice mod was calmer. "Sunstreaker, on the other hand…" a simulated sigh came through Ratchet's speaker. "They are Optimus's concern, not yours."
"Not if they are in trouble because of me," Sam insisted stubbornly.
There was a long silence, nothing but the drone of Ratchet's tires on the road. The soft chuckle startled him, Sam warily looking at the speakers for lack of a face to glare at with Ratchet in this form.
"I believe we'd be better served to discuss this tomorrow," Ratchet said finally, "When you've had a chance to settle yourself."
"I'd rather get it over with now." Sam slouched back in the seat, glaring with some distaste down at his ruined clothes. Now that he wasn't crying in agony for power, the memory made him cringe. Shit, he'd been begging for Sideswipe to…to do things with him. To him. Tomorrow Ratchet might want to yell at him but Sam would be more than happy to yell back that it was time for them to figure out how to fix this.
"Except your wishes are not paramount at the moment," Ratchet said curtly, all traces of humor vanished.
Sam didn't bother to answer, just watched as Autobot city loomed closer, the lights as brilliant as freaking Vegas in the middle of the desert. It looked spectacular, really, and he wondered what it looked like from a distance, wondered if other humans who weren't in the know looked at it and whispered about Area 51 and never knew just how right they really were.
Ratchet didn't talk to him again as they went through the clearance checkpoint and Sideswipe had certainly been right, it was a lot longer this time as they ran full scanning sweeps over them, checking for concealed Decepticons. They never would have been able to make it back in here without being caught but if he'd been a little more careful, they wouldn't have had to break out of a damned jail cell and nearly get killed. Stupid, stupid…
To his surprise, Sam realized that Ratchet wasn't taking him back to his own quarters, heading towards the infirmary instead. Were they going to keep him there overnight, Sam wondered, a little panicky. Maybe they were going to lock him up as a punishment, not that he didn't deserve it, but nervous fear was starting to churn nauseously in his gut.
"What—" Sam started, trailed away as they turned the last corner and he saw Bumblebee, both as a robot and a holo, sitting outside the infirmary.
"Optimus forced him to stay here, as he was in no state to be on the roads," Ratchet informed him tartly, as he slowed to a stop. "I had to threaten to power him down before he finally agreed. I suggest you take this opportunity to talk to him, for once. At the very least you should trust him, don't you think?"
The door swung open without another word and Sam climbed out slowly, fully aware of how he looked. Stained and ragged, exhausted and very much like he'd been…well, like he'd been fucking around, wasn't that the truth of it? He'd screwed this up in every way possible and the only excuse he had was that he'd been scared. It seemed far too feeble a way to explain and Sam barely registered it as Ratchet drove away and left the two of them alone.
Bumblebee's holo form was sitting on the ground, leaning against the side of the building with his knees drawn up, his clasped hands dangling between his spread legs. He was curled into himself, shoulders hunched as if to make himself smaller but this was Bumblebee who'd been his best friend before he'd been anything else and maybe Sam had screwed this up beyond all repair but this was Bee and he deserved better.
He didn't look up as Sam walked up to him, his gaze focused on his hands. Silently, Sam sat down next to him, mimicking his posture. For a long moment, they only sat, listening to the distant sounds of Autobot city which never really fell silent, full of beings that didn't need much in the way of nighttime rest.
"Hey," Sam said, softly, finally breaking the silence.
"Hey," Bee said, his eyes still on his hands.
Again, silence. "Can...can I ask you something?"
"Anything." There was a deeper wealth of emotion to that single word that had Sam closing his eyes, taking a long, slow breath before he tugged up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing the dark lines of Cybertronian embedded in his skin.
He ran the tip of his finger over his tattoo, the feel of it indistinguishable from the rest of his skin. "What does this mean?" Sam asked, quietly.
A faint smile touched Bee's mouth but he didn't look up. "It's my name."
Sam frowned. "I've tried to read it before. It doesn't say Bumblebee."
"No," Bee agreed. He rubbed his fingers together lightly, absently. "It's my real name."
"Oh," Sam said, a little raggedly. Of course his real name wasn't Bumblebee, Sam had known that for a long time. "How--how do you say it?"
Cybertronian always sounded faintly like static to him but this sounded more sibilant, a word to be rolled off the tongue and savored. Sam attempted to repeat it with little success. The Human larynx just wasn't made for those particular sounds, not like a voice capacitor was.
"I think I better stick with Bumblebee," Sam said with a sad little laugh.
"It's customary for Autobots in a committed relationship to exchange names," Bee said, a little haltingly. "I should have asked your permission before I did so but at the time," he trailed off, shrugging a little. "It's not a true tattoo. I can remove it if you wish."
"No!" Sam burst out. "No, I want it."
"All right," Bee said, still so soft.
Guilt, thick and heavy in his throat and for one, desperate moment, Sam wished Bumblebee would shout at him, lecture him, anything instead of this calm sadness. Like it was already over and nothing Sam said would make a difference, any more than it had when he tried to talk to Optimus.
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, because maybe it was too late but he couldn't not apologize, had to at least try.
"Stop," Bee said, holding up a hand and Sam did, eyes stinging. With slow deliberation, Bumblebee reached over and very lightly trailed his fingertips over the back of Sam's hand before gently grasping it and tugging. "Come here?"
Pulled Sam up until he was straddling Bee's lap, Bumblebee's legs against his back, supporting him and when Bee wrapped his arms around Sam, he gave up, gave in, and just buried himself into the comforting embrace, uncaring of who might see them. After tonight, he'd be happy to kiss Bumblebee in the middle of the mess hall so long as he didn't leave and damn, but Sam wouldn't blame him if he did. Ratchet was right, he was so stupid, he'd risked everything and for what? Because he was afraid?
Bumblebee was holding him almost too tight but Sam didn't care, breathing shallowly as Bee clung to him, making shuddery little sounds that were nothing like human.
"You could have been killed," Bee whispered fiercely.
"I'm sorry--" he began, bit his tongue when Bumblebee shook him roughly, fingers digging hard into Sam's upper arms.
"You could have been killed! Or worse, if they hadn't wanted you dead, if they'd captured you instead." Again, he made that shuddery sound, inhuman but not wrong, Bumblebee wasn't human, and Sam didn't care one damned bit.
Sam abruptly realized Bee wasn't shaking, he was wavering, briefly less than substantial but before Sam sank more than a couple inches he snapped back into being, firm and solid.
"I'm so sorry," Sam whispered again, clinging hard, burying his face into Bumblebee's neck.
"You don't need to apologize to me, Sam. Just promise me you'll never do anything so foolish again. Please," he begged, unashamed.
"I promise," Sam said, raggedly, "But I do need to apologize, I fucked up so much."
"No," Bee shook his head. "Not this. Not me."
"You don't understand."
"Then make me understand. Tell me."
Tell him. Talk to him like Ratchet had said. Bumblebee had told him he hadn't screwed them up but he didn't know everything and Sam owed him the truth, owed him the chance to know exactly what he was forgiving. "I thought...I thought the receptors were making me feel things aside from horny," Sam started, slowly.
"You were afraid," Bee said, lightly stroking Sam's back. His touch with soothing in more than one way and Sam sighed appreciatively, tension that he hadn't even been aware of ebbing. "And that was not an irrational assumption to make. One that Ratchet could have alleviated if he'd told you before that your receptors were inactive when we began our relationship. Or that you could have if you'd only asked," he added, infinitely more gentle.
"I know, I should have asked. I'm so sorry--"
Bee shushed him. "I told you, no apologies."
"When I broke my arm a few days ago, I didn't fall," Sam swallowed hard. This was harder and he'd promised Sideswipe, but it was Bumblebee's choice, too. "I went-- it's hard to explain but I went to see Sideswipe and I accidentally met Sunstreaker instead. He...he didn't mean to, I just--the receptors made me want him and he--"
"He took advantage of the situation as he frequently does," Bee said tersely. His hands still briefly, tightening into fists but they relaxed as Sam's heart stuttered in his chest, resumed their gentle petting.
"It wasn't his fault," Sam admitted, softly. "I was all over him."
"You are a very young human male who is dealing with unprecedented issues in regards to control. He is a slagging piece of tin who is several thousand of your years old and has been tricking organics into sexual relationships for almost as long."
Okay, yes, but Sam still wasn't convinced. "He's not all right in the head."
"He is very close to being not all right in his body as well."
Well, this was going just dandy. He'd already gotten Sideswipe into a shitload of trouble and now he was about to get his brother/lover killed. The memory of Sunstreaker clutching Sideswipe against him was still clear in his mind and maybe their relationship was seriously screwed up, but hell, who was Sam to talk? "He saved your life," Sam pointed out.
"Yours as well. And that is precisely what is saving his."
"You're a lot calmer about this than I expected," Sam said, suspiciously. He pulled back and Bee met his eyes calmly. "You knew," Sam breathed. "You knew and you didn't say anything?"
"I didn't know. But my probability calculations indicted that this was a possible scenario," Bumblebee admitted quietly. "I was waiting for you to tell me. Had I considered you might nearly be killed in trying to avoid that, I would have brought it up myself."
"You knew," Sam repeated, struggling a little and Bee let him go immediately. Only, once he was free Sam wasn't sure he really wanted to move and instead he sat there, his hands limp between them. "You knew about that and then, tonight--"
"Sideswipe already sent me the details about that," Bumblebee said quietly. "Sam, I am hardly going to be upset with either of you for engaging in something that saved your life. Until your receptors accept that there are other ways for them to repower, your choices are somewhat limited in that regard."
"So you're just fine that I've been fooling around with the twins behind your back?" Sam said, and there was no hiding the faint bitterness in his voice because he sure as fuck wasn't all right with it, so he couldn't begin to understand how Bee was.
"Just fine with it?" Bee repeated, eyes suddenly blazing with an inhuman light. "Just fine with it…come on." He was on his feet in an instant, startling Sam as he easily lifted him, carrying him as his other half transformed, doors flying open just in time for Bee to set Sam firmly into the passenger seat. His holo didn't bother to follow, vanishing as soon as the door was shut and they sped away in a squeal of tires. They were going to the outskirts of the city, Sam realized, quickly hitting a speed that no sane human would attempt on this kind of road. Or lack thereof as they hit the hard packed dirt that surrounded the city.
Only Bumblebee wasn't human and Sam wasn't entirely sure he wanted to classify himself as sane tonight. Tomorrow there were bound to be lectures and punishments, and he'd be wallowing in guilt over the twins, and Mikaela who'd at least made it back all right. Tomorrow he could deal with the regrets.
Tonight, Sam whooped with laughter, the radio suddenly blaring to life with loud music as Bumblebee went even faster, taking Sam who the hell knew where and Sam didn't care a damned bit where they went, so long as he was with Bumblebee. Tomorrow they would deal with everything but for tonight he was here.
I love you so much, Sam thought, helplessly, and he knew he didn't imagine the faint flicker of response, as sweet and gentle as the softest kiss.
Yeah, he was here tonight and tomorrow could damn well take care of itself.
-finis-
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