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Bumblebee was not having a good time.
One minute Bumblebee was taking cover behind a rock formation, firing at the mercenaries while he tried to formulate a plan, the next he was staring at the bots—plus one human—that he once considered family but now were the reason he had to go see Rung.
Bumblebee stared at his old team with wide optics. They mirrored Bumblebee’s stunned expression, if a bit more disoriented, which Bumblebee could relate to. Being yanked into a different universe royally sucked. The falling out of the portal in a pile probably didn’t help either.
Bumblebee wasn’t sure how to react.
“What the frag.”
Yeah, that felt appropriate.
Bumblebee’s exclamation brought the bots out of their shocked stupor, and they immediately started to untangle themselves.
Optimus was the first to his pedes. Bumblebee watched warily as the blue and red mech extended his servo
“Bumblebee?” Optimus asked tentatively. He had a hopeful look on his face, but he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if it was really Bumblebee. Which, y’know, is fair. Bumblebee looked way different than he used to with his new upgrades; thicker armor, sleeker and sharper kibble—an aftereffect of his new faster alt mode—pistols magnetize to his hips, and more powerful stingers that Brainstorm made for him.
For a moment, Bumblebee wanted to take Optimus’ servo and tell him and the rest of his old friends about his adventures and catch up.
But then the memories of their last encounter pushed themselves to the forefront of his processor, the swirl of anger, hurt, and betrayal resurfacing. Every one of their reactions to his and Blitzwing’s relationship devastated him.
Bumblebee still thinks about that on rechargeless nights, when there was nothing but that awful moment replaying in this processor over and over again—how Optimus hesitated when Bumblebee asked him to trust him (“You trust me, right, bossbot?...Optimus?”); Ratchet’s insults that gouged Bumblebee’s spark and his scorn that he gave to the couple; Prowl’s unwillingness to just put down his weapons and listen to me, dammit; the way that Bulkhead didn’t support him like Bumblebee thought he would. That probably stung the most.
Sari, at the very least, had just been confused about the whole ordeal. She was the only one Bumblebee could think about without feeling any negative emotion. Him and Swerve had gotten really close, but Bumblebee missed his best friend.
But they broke his trust and expected him to abandon Blitzwing for them? Like they didn’t betray him when he came to them, sharing the thing he held most dearly to his spark, expecting understanding and acceptance, only for them to turn on him when Bumblebee swore to Blitzwing that they would be safe with his team. After all that, they expected him to welcome them back with open arms like nothing happened?
Bumblebee hardened his expression.
Frag no.
“Who else would it be? I’m the only yellow minibot Autobot that has an “insane and sparkless Decepticon that would sooner eat me than date me” as a courtmate, right?” Bumblebee shot Ratchet an ugly look, repeating the words the medic had described Blitzwing.
Optimus winced. “Bumblebee, we’re—”
“Save it,” Bumblebee cut him off with a snap. “I don’t want to hear whatever lame, half-afted apology you’re gonna give me.”
Bumblebee turned away and sent Brainstorm a call request. Bumblebee would bet 50 shanix that the teal jet had something to do with this.
Brainstorm picked up. ::Ships genius at your service::
Someone cleared their vocalizer in the background on Brainstorm’s end.
::Shush, Percy. Anyway! Bumblebee, what’s cracking bacon?::
“Hey, Brainstorm.” Bumblebee ignored Brainstorm’s less-than-stellar attempt at human lingo. “Can you tell me why my former team appeared after I used your instant rejuvenating solvent grenade?”
Bumblebee felt a dark sense of satisfaction at the wounded look some of said team had at the word former.
::It wasn’t my fault this time!:: Brainstorm said immediately.
::Brainstorm:: Perceptor said pointedly, joining the call. Bumblebee smothered a snicker at the look he knew the microscope was giving his conjunx, some of the tension leaving his frame.
::...maybe a tiny bit my fault:: Brainstorm admitted. ::But you should be blaming the solvent, not me::
“You mean the same solvent that brought me and Blitzy here?” Bumblebee deadpanned.
::Not this time. I fixed the recipe so this wouldn’t happen again::
::Did you check the labels on the chemical bottles?:: Preceptor asked.
A resounding boom not far from Bumblebee drowned out what Brainstorm was going to say next. Bumblebee was unfazed (living on a ship where something exploded every other day had that effect), but Team Prime was startled into battle stances.
::Looks like Blitzwing and Whirl are having fun with their new toys I made for them:: Brainstorm noted, delighted.
“Don’t I know it. Blitzy won’t stop raving about how awesome it is to me over comms,” Bumblebee complained, though there was no real bite to it—just fondness for his conjunx.
Ratchet rolled his optics at the nickname. Bumblebee ignored him.
Didn’t take long for him to start acting like an aft again, he thought sourly.
::Of course he does:: Brainstorm said smugly. ::That’s a mech who has taste::
::Brainstorm, the labels?:: Preceptor reminded.
A huff. ::No, I didn’t check the labels. I don’t need to, not with my organizing system::
::I wasn’t aware that lab accident waiting to happen you call your station was organized:: Preceptor said flatly.
::Of course you weren’t. It takes a true genius to understand the system::
::There is no system, Brainstorm. You’re simply just messy::
Bumblebee bit his servo to keep from laughing out loud as Brainstorm launched into a tirade. The two scientists were always amusing to listen to when they bickered.
“Can we figure this out after we deal with these mercenaries?” Bumblebee asked, interrupting the scientists before they could go completely off topic. “We can dump the newcomers on Megatron, and they can be his problem while you guys can sort this out.”
Bumblebee would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the look of shock and alarm on the other bots’ faces at the mention of the former warlord. Bumblebee made a note to show it to Blitzwing the next time they hardlined—he’ll get a kick out of it.
“I’m sorry, Megatron?” Ratchet demanded.
Bumblebee rolled his optics. He knew the crocky bot was old, but he didn’t think his audials were already failing. “Yes, Ratchet. Megatron. I’d leave you with Brainstorm and Perceptor, but you’d probably get vaporized or get turned into a cyberhound on accident or something.” Bumblebee remembered the last time he went into their lab. He shuddered. Never again.
“...what?” Bulkhead said faintly.
Bumblebee shook his helm. “Don’t ask.”
Sari ran closer to Bumblebee, desperation highlighting her movements, and wow, she got big. Like, really big. Sari looked like a teenager, which was weird because she was about to turn nine when Bumblebee last saw her. Did humans age faster than he thought they did?
Bumblebee filled that away for later.
“Wait, you’re just going to leave us again?!” Sari cried, her eyes huge and watery and didn’t that make something inside Bumblebee shrivel up and die.
“I didn’t leave!” Bumblebee protested. Well, kind of. Did it really count as leaving if you and your conjunx were kidnapped by some really weird solvent?
“Yes you did!”
“Not on purpose!”
“Regardless if it was intentional or not,” Prowl said. “You did leave and didn’t make an attempt to contact us.”
“I couldn’t! My comms can’t exactly reach you from this universe,” Bumblebee threw his servos in the air. “Besides, I didn’t feel like talking to you after how me and Blitzy were treated.”
“Blitzy?” Ratchet scoffed. “You still believe the lies that Con is feeding you?”
Bumblebee’s engine snarled. “He’s not lying!” Bumblebee said, giving Ratchet a nasty look.
Ratchet gave him one right back. “Of course he is! He’s a Decepticon. Deceiving bots is in their nature. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’s still lying to you.”
“Guys…” Optimus tried to get his and Ratchet’s attention to try and stop the fight that was brewing, but there was no stopping this. Bumblebee simply ignored him, and Ratchet did the same.
“He’s not lying!” Bumblebee repeated, louder this time. “I’d know if he was.”
Ratchet snorted, clearly not believing the yellow minibot. “How, exactly?” He demanded, like he knew Bumblebee wouldn’t have an answer for him.
And that enraged Bumblebee like nothing else. He saw red and snapped. “Because it’s kind of hard to lie in a sparkmerge!” Bumblebee shouted.
Ratchet reeled. Whatever he thought Bumblebee was going to say, that was not it. “You did what?”
“We sparkmerged,” Bumblebee said firmly. “Because despite what you think, I’m not a sparkling. I’m a consenting adult who can take care of myself and I can sparkmerge with whoever I want, and I choose to do that with the mech I love.” Bumblebee was trembling with rage at this point, his em field lashing out, and his servos were balled into fists because how dare he. No one insults him or Blitzwing. No one. “So whatever problems you have with that—because I know you have problems with it—you can shove them up your exhaust pipe because I don’t want to hear it.” He finished with a snap that held too many emotions that Bumblebee didn’t want to unpack.
Save for a few explosions and guns firing in the distance, it was silent. Bumblebee glared at Ratchet and the others, daring them to say anything.
No one did.
::...I feel like we’re missing something important here:: Brainstorm said, shamelessly transfixed by the fighting that had unfolded.
::Brainstorm:: Perceptor hissed.
::What?! I’m not wrong::
::It’s rude to eavesdrop on others’ conversations::
::You were listening to:: Brainstorm pointed out.
::Because you didn’t end the call::
::Oh, that’s a load of—::
Bumblebee hung up, some of his rage morphing into embarrassment at the fact that the two scientists had heard everything. He hastily hung up with a promise to see them at the lab later to sort out their guests from the other universe.
The silence was palpable. No one knew what to say. Bumblebee, for once in his functioning, didn’t know what to say.
Thankfully, Bumblebee was spared from the awkwardness by a grenade going off a bit too close to him and the others. It showered them with dirt and debris.
Bumblebee cussed in a creative mix of Cybertronian, English, and German. The other bots looked scandalized by Bumblebee’s choice of words, but he could honestly care less, and he ignored them. Bumblebee hated grenades—they always left his sensory horns sore for cycles. Yay, splitting helmaches to look forward to.
Optimus and the others drew their weapons, forming a protective circle around Sari and adopted their battle stances, ready to leap into action.
Bumblebee wanted to laugh. After training with bots who have fought in a war for a very long time, Bumblebee could now see just how bad the way they fought—and how he used to—was.
It was painfully obvious that the instructors at the academy had no idea what they were teaching. Like they skimmed over the datapads that taught them how to fight and made up the rest as they went. Which, now that Bumblebee was thinking about it, sounded just about right. Honestly, Prowl's the only one who’s any decent, but even then…
…how in the pits did they not get obliterated back in Detroit?
Optimus was looking around, trying to spot the danger. “What was that?” he asked, alarmed. The Prime tightened his grip on his ax as another grenade went off, closer than the previous one.
Bumblebee growled, annoyance bleeding into his field. “Fragging mercenaries,” he grumbled. He pulled the pistols off his hips and checked how much ammo he had.
Normally, he would be using his stingers, but the upgrades Brainstorm had installed took up too much power, and Bumblebee just couldn’t keep up with the demand. So he had learned how to better use guns with various mech that were willing to teach him. He ended up getting attached to pistols, and now he can use them just as efficiently as his stingers.
Bumblebee huffed. He had just over half of his bullets left, but he was down to his last clips. Not terrible, but it looks like Bumblebee will have to prioritize close combat. Fragging great. It wasn’t like he was tiny and going up against bots almost triple his size, oh no.
“They lured us here and tried to ambush us,” he continued. “Not sure if they have a bounty on us or if Rodimus really pissed them off the last time we saw them, but regardless,” Bumblebee shoved the clip back into his pistol with a foreboding snap. “They’re going down.”
The group looked taken aback and startled at the viciousness in Bumblebee’s voice. Bumblebee ignored them. He’s been doing that a lot.
Bumblebee checked his pistols were in their proper working order one last time before he clambered up the mound of rocks until Bumblebee was sure he would have a good vantage point. Bumblebee peeked around the rocks and almost fell off the mound from how fast he reeled back to avoid the blaster fire from tearing a hole through his helm.
“Slagging glitchspawns of Unicron!” Bumblebee hollered. Those afts! They almost took his face off! “I’m gonna ram your pede so far up your exhaust pipe you’ll be able to taste it.”
“Bumblebee!” Optimus said, aghast.
(Ratchet, on the other servo, looked almost proud).
Bumblebee rolled his optics. Seriously? Was he still going to treat him like a newbuild? “Don’t look so surprised, Optimus,” Bumblebee said bitterly. “I’ve been living with mechs who don’t treat me like a sparkling, so better get used to me acting and talking like one.”
Optimus’ faceplate fell, hurt flashing in his optics.
“Bee…” Bulkhead moved to him, a servo outstretched.
Bumblebee quickly stepped back. “Not now, Bulkhead,” he said firmly. “I need to deal with these glitches.”
Bumblebee turned away before he could see the look on his old friend’s faceplate, his anger burning away the guilt that had begun to take root. He would not feel guilty. Not after everything.
Bumblebee picked up a rock, tossing it up and down thoughtfully. It was fairly round and roughly the size of a grenade. Maybe if he…
Bumblebee clawed back up to where he almost got his helm taken off, parts of a plan formulating.
Bumblebee took a deep invent. Here goes nothing.
Praying that the times that he played Hand Grenade Tag with Huffer and Gears paid off, Bumblebee drew his arm back and hurled the rock into the air, scanning the sky intently for a vapor tail.
Crack!
Bumblebee grinned as the rock shattered into dust. Gotcha.
While the sniper was distracted, Bumblebee peeked around the rocks to track where the shot came from.
Surprisingly, the sniper wasn’t that far off. It wasn’t even a good vantage point. Lessons with Perceptor had him tutting at the mercenaries’ poor decision. The nest the mercenary had set up was only a few paces away with plenty of trees in the way—which meant good cover for Bumblebee.
Bumblebee turned his attention away from the sniper now that he knew where he was.
The other two mercenaries were inching closer to Bumblebee’s cover. Those he wouldn’t have a problem dealing with. Unless his old team didn’t mess up the whole plan.
Bumblebee looked at the bots, a stern look on his faceplate. “Stay here and don’t interfere,” he said firmly. “I don’t need you distracting me and messing up my plan.”
With that out of the way, Bumblebee turned around and lobbed the smoke bomb at the ground. It exploded with a loud bang and smoke flooded out, blanketing the mercenaries and the surrounding area.
Bumblebee turned on his thermal vision in his optics (thank you, Brainstorm) and leaped into the smoke.
Once upon a time, Bumblebee might’ve been hesitant to kill another being—whether it be mechanical or organic—but after his time on the Lost Light, he had fewer reservations about it. It also helped that these mercenaries were just sparkless drones piloted by the real mercenaries, who were a much smaller mechanical race of wannabe Cybertronians. It was unsettling but mostly insulting.
For the most part, the Lost Light was content with leaving them be—then the mercenaries started violently raiding neutral colonies for energon to power the Cybertronian copies. After that, the crew of the Lost Light started hunting down the mercenaries to destroy the drones and their means of making more.
Which led Bumblebee to right here—in a shootout at a mercenary outpost that Blaster had located. He came with Blitzwing, Whirl, Drift, Tailgate, and Cyclonus for what was supposed to be an easy dispatch of a few drones but ended up being a slag ton of them.
Fragging fabulous.
Bringing himself back to the present, Bumblebee focused on the two mercenaries flailing in confusion.
Bumblebee ran to the closest mercenary and dropped to his knees, the momentum sliding him between the mercenaries legs. He transformed his servos into his stingers and slashed at the exposed wires visible from between the plating as Bumblebee slid by.
Instead of reacting in pain like a normal bot, the drone merely stumbled, the cut wires unable to relay the commands to move the legs. It gave a few more unsuccessful attempts to move before it fell to the ground.
Bumblebee darted to the downed mech, slashing at every exposed energon wired in sight. The mercenary swatted at him, which Bumblebee easily dodged.
He backflipped off the mech, his plating shifting into his alt mode and speeding off, giving the other mercenary a wide berth. The drone whirled around, trying to pinpoint Bumblebee through all the smoke, but the yellow bot was too fast for him.
He was almost out of the smoke when Bumblebee turned around sharply. He revved his engine. Let’s do this.
He kicked his engine into high gear, shooting off like a yellow bullet toward the merc.
The mercenary spun around. It brought its gun up to fire at Bumblebee, but it was too late. Bumblebee transformed mid-air and tackled it, momentum turning him into a tiny cannon (Blitzwing loved to throw Bumblebee like an electric bowling ball when they fought together. He thought it was the funniest thing ever).
They crashed in a heap on top of the downed merc, Bumblebee doing his best to not get crushed between the two larger frames. Bumblebee grunted as he pulled himself from the pile, delivering kicks and punches as he did, getting energon smeared on him for his efforts.
Bumblebee bounced to his pedes and backed away from the mercs, a grin stretching across his derma. The two drones had decided to stop trying to untangle themselves and were now raising their guns to shoot him.
Only they were too late.
Bumblebee raised his pistols, aiming for the energon that was spilling from the first merc and pooling onto the ground beneath them. “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!” Bumblebee taunted.
He pulled the trigger.
Bumblebee yelped as the resounding explosion almost threw him back, but he dug his pedes into the ground and managed to stay upright.
Well, dumb and dumber are taken care of. Bumblebee turned to look at where the sniper was positioned. Time to take care of the last one.
Being a scout with such brightly colored armor was not what most bots called practical (shut up Ratchet). But, Bumblebee had spend enough time working around that it was no longer an issue.
Bumblebee moved quickly through the smoke, taking cover behind various rocks and debris until he was right behind the merc, it being none the wiser.
Bumblebee smirked. “End of the line, merc. Time for you to go to the scraphe—”
The merc whirled around and fired at him, cutting off Bumblebee's his totally awesome one-liner.
Bumblebee yelped and rolled to the side, the bullet whizzing by Bumblebee’s helm as it just barely missed.
Maybe the one liner wasn’t the best idea.
Bumblebee lunged at the sniper. He ducked under the rifle as it fired off another round and wrenched it out of the mercs grasp. He flung the offending item away and slashed the drone, hacking away at its armor with his stingers until its delicate circuitry was exposed and energon coated his arms.
The drone slumped to the ground, too badly broken to do anything except started at Bumblebee with blank, emotionless optics as Bumblebee stood over it.
Bumblebee grinned. “Surprise,” he said before stabbing his stingers into the exposed wires.
The merc could do nothing but spasm under the relentless attack of electricity Bumblebee sent coursing through it. It didn’t take long for smoke to start rising and for the frame starting to combust. It was only then did Bumblebee stop the flow of electricity.
Bumblebee yanked his stingers out, panting heavily. He squinted at the merc, trying to figure out if it was offline or just faking. Bumblebee had given it enough electricity to power a small ship, but you never know what upgrades these guys get.
Bumblebee was pretty sure it was deactivated, but he kicked the frame a couple times to make sure.
It didn’t so much as twitch. Yup, it was deactivated.
Optimus and the others came out from behind the rocks, optics wide at the scene in front of them.
“Bumblebee,” Optimus said faintly, faceplate slack in disbelief as he stared at the yellow minibot standing over the deactivated frame of the mercenary, drenched in energon. “What did you do?”
Bumblebee tensed, his plating pressed flat against his frame, protecting him from the blue and red mechs’ judgment. What was he supposed to do now?
Bumblebee opened his intake to explain himself (why? He didn’t do anything wrong) when he was cut off by a mech singing.
“Hummel~! Where are youuuuuuu~?”
Some of the tension melted from Bumblebee’s frame, his plating smoothing over a fraction. The familiar voice of his conjunx never failed to soothe him. It was clear that Random was at the forefront, considering Icy and Hothead don’t sing.
“Huuuuuuummel~! You can’t hide forever. Oh! Are we playing hide and seek?! I love this game!” Blitzwing said gleefully. “You got a biiiiig head start, but I’ll find you, my little honey bee. Ready or not, here I come!”
Bumblebee laughed. Blitzwing’s antics never failed to cheer him up.
His laugh alerted Blitzwing of his location, and in no time, the heavy thuds of Blitzwing’s pedesteps started rapidly heading towards him.
Bumblebee smiled when Blitzwing came into view, his wings waving giddily, still running high after a good fight.
Impossibly, Blitzwing’s already wide smile widened even further as he made a beeline for the minibot.
His frame buzzing with delight, Bumblebee chambered up a random boulder until he and Blitzwing were optic to optic (don’t get him wrong, Bumblebee loved the way his conjunx towered over him, but sometimes it was so inconvenient). He grabbed Blitzwing’s faceplate and dragged him down to a very passionate and eager kiss.
Blitzwing froze, taken aback by the sudden and random—hehe, get it?—action. It didn’t last long before Blitzwing was reciprocating enthusiastically. Bumblebeee smiled against his conjunx’s derma, being careful of Random’s sharp derma.
When Bumblebee deepened the kiss, someone’s engine stalled, and someone else said “ew”. Bumblebee had every mind to ignore them and keep kissing Blitzwing, but his conjunx didn’t share the same sentiment. He drew away, ignoring Bumblebee’s whines of protest, and turned his optics to the spector. His optics widened when he saw who it was.
Whirr.
“What are you puny Autobots doing here!?” Hothead roared, marching toward them aggressively, violence gleaming in his visor as his cannons activated.
Team Prime tensed, falling into defensive stances.
“Woah, woah, woah, woah!” Bumblebee scrambled in front of Blitzwing, holding up his servos to try and stop the giant mech. “They’re not here on purpose! They got brought here by accident. Brainstorm's fault.” Bumblebee added lamely.
Blitzwing growled, but he backed down. “I don’t like it.” He glowered at the bots, who blanched, unsettled.
“I know. I don’t either,” Bumblebee soothed. “But we just need to take them back to the ship, and they can be Megatron’s problem then.”
Whirr.
“Very well,” Icy hummed. He leaned down, scanning Bumblebee with critical optics, his monocle zooming in and out. He didn’t like what he saw since a frown appeared. “Where are you damaged, hummel?”
“What?” Bumblebee looked down at himself. Why did Blitzwing think he was dam— ohhhhhh. Bumblebee had the mercenary’s energon splattered across his plating as well as soot from the explosion.
“Oh, this? Nah. This isn’t mine. The mercenaries don’t know how to die cleanly,” Bumblebee joked. “Besides, I’m way too good for them to land a hit on me.” He grinned widely.
Cerulean dermas twitched. “You are still very dirty.”
“So are you!”
“I'm not the one covered helm to pede in energon, love.”
“You have the same amount of energon on you! It just looks like less because you’re so freakishly big,” Bumblebee scowled and poked his conjunx. It was true—Blitzwing had a fair amount of energon on his servos, chestplate, and faceplate.
Blue gave way to black and Blitzwing giggled. “Is my itty bitty bee getting feisty? I know to cheer you up!”
Blitzwing plucked Bumblebee off the ground and twirled, swinging the yellow minibot this way and that.
“Blitzwing! Put me down!” Bumblebee tried to be mad but he was laughing. Bumblebee hated being picked up but it wasn’t so bad when Blitzwing did it. He made him feel safe and loved, not mocked at and useless.
Blitzwing swung him around a few more times but didn’t put him down. His grin was as big as ever.
“Oh look!” Blitzwing held Bumblebee out, staring at the energon that had smeared on his arms and chestplate. “We match! Now we both have to go to the washracks!”
“No, you have to go to the washracks.” Bumblebee corrected and rolled his optics. “I have to go explain to Megatron and Rodimus the whole situation.”
Random switched to Icy with a familiar whirr. “Minimus won’t be pleased about your current state.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m not showering with you. Not after what happened last time.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“You got into a fight with Whirl that broke most of the waskracks, dumbaft.”
“He started it.”
Bumblebee jabbed a digit at Blitzwing. “Don’t you even right now. I had to get lectured by Minimus with you idiots. Soaked, might I add.”
“You were told you did not have to be there. Several times.” Blitzwing reminded flatly.
Bumblebee threw his servos in the air. “I had to! I had to make sure you behaved and didn’t land in even worse trouble.”
“How noble.” Blitzwing said dryly.
“I’m not showering with you. Even if it’s just us.” Bumblebee repeated firmly.
Blitzwing hummed, and the corner of his derma twitched, the closest Icy got to a smile. “But I thought you enjoyed it when we showered together,” he purred, chilly vents ghosting over Bumblebee’s audials. “Was I mistaken?”
Bumblebee’s engine revved. Loudly.
“If you two are quite done,” Ratchet said loudly, effectively ruining the moment.
Bumblebee shot the old bot a nasty look. Rude and totally uncalled for!
He opened his intake to go off on Ratchet, but Blitzwing rubbed his sensory horns gently, and Bumblebee’s processor kinda went blank.
Bumblebee distantly noticed that Blitzwing set him down, his servo never stopping his wonderful ministrations. “We should return to the Lost Light,” he said, ignoring the looks he was getting from the bots. Blitzwing twisted his digits just so and—
Oh yes just like that, Bumblebee thought blissfully and melted into the touch, his engine purring loudly.
Optimus cleared his intake. “The Lost Light?” He reminded, looking vaguely uncomfortable at the display that was happening, not that Bumblebee cared. Optimus could’ve vaporized on the spot, and Bumblebee’s only concern still would’ve been making sure Blitzwing kept rubbing him like that.
Blitzwing narrowed his optic at the mech. “Of course.” He pulled his servo away, and Bumblebee whined.
“Later, hummel,” Blitzwing promised.
Bumblebee huffed and glowered at Optimus for making his conjunx stop.
The mech shuffled awkwardly and had the good sense to be embarrassed, but didn’t apologize.
“Fine,” Bumblebee growled and grabbed Blitzwing’s servo. “Let’s get this over with.”
Bumblebee marched back to the Lost Light, Blitzwing’s servo in his. He was already thinking about the nightmare of trying to explain this clusterfrag to the co-captains and how they were going to figure this out.
Bumblebee groaned. He was not looking forward to that conversation.