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To be perfectly honest, Sam wasn't sure what he was watching other than that he was pretty sure it was a bit dodgy. The quiet was what really threw him because all three autobots had just sat there talking to each other in their own language as they adjusted the cables connecting them to each other - or, rather, connecting Ironhide and Ratchet to Bee - except for one moment when Ratchet cuffed Ironhide around the back of the head and announced "pervert". Even so, despite the quiet, it didn't feel like they were being secretive, more... oh, hell if he knew. Intimate? He only started to get an inkling as to what exactly might be going on when a sort of agreeable silence came over all three, Ratchet's optics switching off as the medic sidled closer to Bee and put one arm around the smaller bot's shoulder.
Ironhide was the one who removed most lingering doubts a few minutes later by letting out a few definitely pleased, almost human noises before making a final sound like a truck with crap suspension driving off a cliff and crashing, lying down shortly after and rumbling quietly to himself for a bit before announcing, "Ratchet's the pervert."
Bumblebee's head had dipped for a moment then as if nodding and it wasn't long before he'd made a bizarre metallic noise of his own, Ratchet following soon after and the two of them resting against each other for a bit, the rest of the world seeming forgotten.
Somewhere in between processing that the low murmurings in their own language Ratchet was now sharing with Bee were probably the Cybertronian equivalent of sweet nothings or pillow talk, Sam's brain broke and decided to loop the last conclusion it had come to; my car just had a robotic threesome.
Bumblebee was separating the cables, Ratchet still mumbling away while occasionally looking Bee over with what seemed deeper than a surface scan, and somewhere in between wondering whether Bee's surface would have warmed up, Sam's brain appended his previous thought:
My car just had a robotic threesome and I'm jealous.
In between the various porn magazines his uncle also tended to pass on various "how to" books he'd finished with, but Sam was pretty sure none of those had a section on "what to do when your dream car/best friend is a robot hussy".
He wasn't really sure what he muttered to himself other than that anger had been expressed in there somewhere; apparently the autobots had better hearing than he'd thought, post-coital Ironhide getting to his feet looking decidedly pissed and every other thought thereafter was swiftly blocked out by oh shit run.
.
Shit oh shit oh shit what was I thinking? Sam pondered as he clung to a tree and wished he lived somewhere with a proper dense forest because eaten by bears sounded like a better fate than facing angry Ironhide. On the other hand though, Ironhide was at least quick with the guns and it wasn't much fun to be bricking it every time something drove past and oh, god, he was too young to die, what had he been thinking?
Hearing a vehicle try to clear its throat was very odd and an effective reminder he needed to work on those stealth skills. "Get down from there Sam Witwicky. I want a word with you." Ratchet; that was good, sort of, reduced the likelihood of immediate death a bit.
Already feeling a little ashamed of himself Sam dropped down out of the tree and climbed into Ratchet's front seat, ducking down so passing cars wouldn't wonder why he was talking to what ought to be an inanimate object. "Uhm. Hey."
"Bee is busy persuading Ironhide not to kill you but before I assist him I think you deserve a little lesson on Cybertronian culture."
Sam wasn't really sure if he wanted to find out what was sexy about cable connections because he liked being able to set up his computer without worrying about how exactly he was turning it on, but not being killed was a higher priority. "Sure, not dead is good."
"I thought as much. Fact one; Cybertronians don't reproduce like humans do and have longer life spans, so monogamy isn't a concept we're familiar with. Fact two; given your jealousy you've probably noticed Bumblebee is one of the most generous, loyal, good-natured bots you could hope to meet. We noticed it several centuries before you. Fact three; losing his vocal processors wounded Bumblebee's confidence. Given he got that confidence back in your presence before the processors were fixed, you clearly have more influence over him than someone your age should. So a word of advice - think before speaking in future."
Okay, guilt, acknowledgement he'd been a great big asshole for yelling at Bee over something normal to his planet, and also, ow, because he'd pretty much thought Bee's general quietness was normal. "Sorry."
"I'm not interested in your apologies but feel free to extend them to Bumblebee when he gets here." An awkward silence for a moment then but before Sam could break it, Ratchet beat him to it with, "If ever there was a right to feel jealousy it should be ours as you have been getting the greater part of Bumblebee's attention despite the fact the two of you can't establish a connection."
.
As if on cue to rescue him from further robotic sex ed lessons, Bumblebee's familiar rumble came along the road followed by a louder, still very pissed-off sounding growl, and Sam clung to Ratchet's seat for dear life just in case the weapons expert still had any ideas.
"Get out of there!"
"I really, really don't want to," Sam replied to Ironhide's half-roar, digging his fingertips into Ratchet's upholstery a little firmer until the medic let out a sound that didn't seem unhappy. "I thought you guys had to, you know, connect?"
"The best comparison would be massage being different from sex," Ratchet explained as Sam clambered out as fast as possible, coming face to face with Ironhide despite Bumblebee's attempts to block the weapon expert's path. Probably had the same thought that Ironhide might realise running Sam over was faster than getting out the guns and wouldn't leave any humans wondering how Sam had met with a cannon blast.
"I don't know why these two are willing to stand up for you just because we weren't meant to hear what you said, but you're lucky they're soft on humans." Still giving the distinct impression of disapproval despite lacking any facial features in truck form, Ironhide started conversing animatedly with the other two in their own language, leaving Sam clueless as to what avenues that argument might be taking until Bumblebee piped up in English,
"It isn't all about interfacing, there are alternatives." In between feeling inadequate Sam had started to notice that, compared with Ratchet and Ironhide, Bee really didn't have much to say and he found himself wishing he could hug his car without looking even weirder than he probably did already to passers by, if only to let him know that he actually really was sorry.
"Fine. Don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you though," Ironhide warned, only going to leave when Ratchet bumped lightly into his side, Sam and Bee left alone at last.
.
"So. Hey," Sam began, scratching the back of his neck and trying not to pay too much attention to his conscience yelling hi asshole, having fun? "Um... I'm really sorry?" Bee popped the driver's door open to let Sam climb in, starting up shortly after and heading off away from the main road. It didn't really feel like an awkward silence, but still, he didn't feel happy about the quiet. "I didn't really mean it, my mouth just got ahead of me."
"I forget you don't think like us," Bee said over the radio, pulling up at the roadside to let Sam out and taking a few steps into one of the thicker clusters of trees before transforming. It wasn't that much cover, but given the dark it was as effective as it needed to be.
"I'd like to if it stopped me being an asshole," Sam grumbled, waiting for Bee to sit down so he could clamber up onto his leg and talk face to face. "I'm just not used to this, you know?"
"Talking to an alien life form from a wholly different culture?" Bee replied, sounding a little less down and a little more amused which was a step in the right direction at least.
"Yeah. It's just, you talk like us, so it's - I forget that you think different too." Edging closer so he could rest his head against Bee's waist, even if it wasn't exactly that comfortable, Sam added, "And I kind of get the 'free love' thing a bit more 'cause of Ratchet, but why two of them at once?"
"I'm the only autobot with multiple two-way connectors," Bee replied, shrugging as if that was the most obvious thing ever. Trying to picture a human equivalent just made Sam's brain hurt, and he wasn't entirely sure if that was in a good, bad, or that's it, I'm going to start saying 'bananas' repeatedly because you've gone insane sort of way.
"Wait, so - so you're - so the other bots couldn't have threesomes without you?"
"They'd have to take turns with each other," Bumblebee replied, before nudging Sam's shoulder with one oversized finger. "What made you so curious? Other than seeing us."
Sam blinked slowly in thought, partly because too much of his brain had become preoccupied with that fact about robotic threesomes and partly because other than seeing them, he couldn't really think of anything. Had he wondered about that side of Cybertronian life beforehand? Despite the fact all of them were sort-of-male robots, no questions had really sprung to mind before. "I don't know, just... just... I suppose the cabling and everything makes sense, but I don't know." He scratched the back of his head again, wondered whether any part of that sentence had come out coherent. "There was this one episode of Star Trek, but Data just did it like a normal guy, so I guess - it's really, really weird talking about this, can we change the subject?"
Bumblebee made a noise way too much like a sigh before settling himself more comfortably against the tree he'd opted to sit by, left his finger resting on Sam's shoulder. It probably ought to feel odd, being just the one finger and pretty heavy at that, but there was definitely something weirdly nice about it. "Did Ratchet tell you that it isn't the same as sex?"
"Not really," Sam replied, looking fixedly at his hands and twiddling his thumbs so he could try and ignore the rising discomfort of being in this conversation, although at least it wasn't mortifyingly embarrassing like when his mum had decided to twitter on about masturbation that once with the worst timing ever.
"Oh." Bumblebee sounded a bit frustrated, resting another finger on Sam's other shoulder and sighing. "Have you ever used a peer to peer network?"
"Yes. Officially no, if anyone else asks."
"It's a bit like that, but pleasurable."
Sam blinked a few times, that distinct feeling of brain hurt returning. "It's like searching for and sharing files?"
"Substitute memories and feelings for files, and yes."
The brain hurt had gone and slow, slow processing of that idea gave rise to ah, so it's like telepathy with erotic perks and bonus pillow talk, followed by that's really, weirdly hot. "Ironhide hates me, huh?"
Bumblebee shook his head, tightening his grip on Sam's shoulders a little and rubbing them as best as he could, which was pretty good all things considered. "He's protective. Besides, him and Ratchet were already frustrated that Optimus couldn't come."
Sam couldn't help snickering at the accidental entendre, but bit his lip the second Bumblebee squeezed his shoulder a little bit harder than was comfortable. "Sorry for being a dick."
"You're forgiven," Bee replied, before cocking his head to one side. "Ten twenty. We should probably get back home soon."
"Mmm."
"That would require you getting off my leg," Bumblebee reminded, although he did seem reluctant.
"Mmm." It was a reluctance Sam returned, too comfortable now, Bumblebee's metal surfaces warmed just right by his own body heat. That and he didn't want to leave Bumblebee alone in the back yard while he slept, even though it was a choice between that or getting grounded and yet another lecture on what good, generous parents he had and how could he break the simple house rules like that and blah blah blah... "I don't want to move."
"I know Ratchet mentioned that we can feel," Bumblebee reminded, "And you're on my thigh."
"Yeah, but A - he's Ratchet, not you, and it'd be weird doing it to him. B - at least I know what I'm touching here." Bee made a sound all too similar to a splutter and Sam fought to keep his face straight as he turned to hook one arm around as much of Bee's waist as he could reach. "I'm not really used to being jealous, I don't get that much attention anyway. It's just, you know, I like the idea of having an alien robot sort-of-boyfriend. And it's kind of weird seeing him have sex with other people."
"Interfacing, not sex. More importantly, sort-of-boyfriend?"
Sam grinned. "Well, I was thinking about when I used to make out with Mikaela on top of you, and it'd be really, really weird if you weren't my sort-of-boyfriend and I was doing that."
Bumblebee swept Sam off his leg with an insistent but gentle hand, dropping down into car form and opening the driver's side door. "You should shorten that to 'boyfriend'. It would make life easier."
"Thought I should get your permission first," Sam replied, wiping Bee's seat with the sleeve of his jacket and earning a pleased noise before he climbed in. "Oh, and Bee?"
"Yes?"
"Enlighten me about those alternatives sometime."
.
The End