Work Text:
(Y/N)’s POV
❤️
💙
Life with the Autobots had taught me many important lessons.
For example, never leave food unattended near Hound. Never ask Crosshairs a question unless you were fully prepared to receive a sarcastic answer. Never challenge Bumblebee to anything without first determining whether or not he had been secretly practicing for the last six months.
And most importantly...Never assume a quiet day would stay quiet.
I had been cleaning out one of the storage sheds near the base when disaster happened.
Or perhaps "disaster" was a strong word. Maybe "poor decision" was more accurate. Either way, it started with a basketball.
I was halfway through sorting a pile of random junk when I noticed something orange wedged behind an old toolbox. Curious, I bent down and pulled it free.
"A basketball?" I muttered.
Honestly, I wasn't even surprised anymore. Cade somehow collected bizarre amounts of random stuff. There was a decent chance he didn't even remember owning it.
Without really thinking about it, I bounced the ball against the ground.
Thump.
The familiar sound immediately brought back memories of school gym classes, summer afternoons, and desperately trying not to get hit in the face during dodgeball.
I smiled and bounced it again.
Thump.
Then again.
Thump.
Unfortunately, that was when Bumblebee appeared.
Well.
More accurately, Bumblebee materialized out of nowhere like a giant yellow cryptid who had heard an interesting noise.
I nearly dropped the ball.
"Oh my gosh, Bee!"
Bumblebee tilted his head.
I bounced the ball again.
His optics followed it.
The ball went up.
His head went up.
The ball went down.
His head went down.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Bumblebee."
He continued watching the ball.
I bounced it one more time.
His optics tracked it with suspicious intensity.
"...Are you staring at my basketball?"
A radio clip immediately played.
"What is…that?"
I laughed.
Before I could answer, heavy footsteps sounded behind us. Hound emerged from the garage carrying enough weapons to invade a small country.
"What're you two doin'?"
I held up the basketball. "Found this."
Hound stared at it. Then at me. Then at it again.
"Why?"
"What do you mean, why?"
"Why are you carrying around an orange sphere?"
"It's a basketball."
That apparently explained absolutely nothing. Hound frowned.
"A what?"
By now, more Autobots were arriving. Drift emerged from the garage. Crosshairs followed. Even Optimus stepped closer, curious about the growing crowd gathering around me.
I suddenly felt like I was about to give a presentation. A presentation I had not prepared for.
I held up the ball. "It's used for a sport."
Crosshairs folded his arms.
"You throw a ball around for entertainment?"
"Basically."
Silence.
Several Autobots exchanged looks. Then finally, Crosshairs spoke.
"Your species is weird."
"You're an alien robot."
"That's unrelated."
"How is that unrelated?"
"It just is."
I opened my mouth to argue. Then realized there was absolutely no point. Meanwhile Bumblebee still hadn't stopped staring at the basketball.
Actually, now that I looked closer, all of them seemed interested.
Even Optimus!
That should have been my warning. It should have told me to put the basketball back where I'd found it and quietly walk away.
Instead, I smiled.
"You know what?"
I bounced the ball once more. The Autobots watched it fall. Watched it rise. Watched it fall again.
A very bad idea began forming in my head. But a very funny idea.
"Would any of you like to learn how to play?"
The reaction was immediate.
And judging by the competitive glint that suddenly appeared in Crosshairs' optics, I was about to make a terrible mistake.
The second the words left my mouth, I knew I had made a mistake.
Not a normal mistake. Not an "oops, I forgot my phone" mistake.
This was the kind of mistake that future historians would point to as the exact moment everything went wrong. Because the instant I offered to teach them basketball, every Autobot in the vicinity suddenly became interested.
Very interested. A little too interested.
Crosshairs straightened immediately.
"So there's competition involved?"
That should have been my first warning.
"It's a sport," I said cautiously.
His optics narrowed.
"Meaning there are winners."
"...Yes."
"And losers."
"...Also yes."
A grin appeared on his face.
"Oh, I'm in."
"Of course you are."
Hound stepped forward next, folding his arms.
"How much destruction is involved?"
I blinked.
"Uummm…Hopefully none."
The look of disappointment on his face was immediate.
"Well that's no fun."
"Hound, It's basketball, not warfare."
"Sounds like a missed opportunity."
Nearby, Drift gently rested a hand on the hilt of one of his swords.
"The game appears simple," he said thoughtfully. "A battle of skill. Discipline. Precision. Focus."
I just stared at him and sighed.
"It involves throwing a ball through a hoop."
"A true test of character."
"...Sure."
Across from me, Bumblebee had somehow acquired the basketball while nobody was paying attention. He was now turning it over in his hands, examining it like it contained ancient Cybertronian secrets.
Honestly, I wouldn't have been surprised if he somehow mastered the entire sport before I finished explaining the rules.
Then there was Optimus.
Unlike everyone else, he wasn't loudly proclaiming his desire to win. He was simply observing the conversation with quiet amusement, which somehow made him even more dangerous.
Because if Optimus did decide to participate, nobody was stopping him.
The man was thirty feet tall. Basketball hoops were going to look like decorative suggestions.
I glanced up at him.
"You are not seriously considering this, are you?"
Optimus looked down at me.
"If it is an activity enjoyed by my family, I see no reason not to participate."
And there it was. The word again.
Family.
The stupid little flutter in my chest appeared immediately. Traitorous chest. I quickly ignored it.
"Well, Fearless," I said with a grin, crossing my arms, "just remember that playing and winning are two very different things."
The second the nickname left my mouth, I noticed something strange.
Optimus froze.
His optics flickered toward me for a moment before he cleared his throat.
"I...appreciate your confidence."
That was an oddly awkward response.
Before I could think about it any further, Bumblebee suddenly played a loud whistle sound through his radio.
Crosshairs immediately pointed between me and Optimus.
"Nope."
"What?" I asked.
"Nope."
"What does that mean?"
"It means nope."
"That is not an answer Cross!"
Hound was already laughing and Drift looked suspiciously amused.
Meanwhile, Optimus had become deeply interested in inspecting the side of the storage shed.
I narrowed my eyes. That was strange…Very strange.
But before I could investigate further, Bumblebee bounced the basketball against the ground. The ball struck the pavement. Then launched directly into Crosshairs' chest.
The game hadn't even started yet. And somehow chaos had already begun.
~
Looking back on it later, I would like it officially noted that I tried to explain the rules.
I really did.
Nobody could accuse me of not making an effort.
The problem was that I was attempting to teach basketball to a group of giant alien robots, most of whom were centuries older than human civilization and had spent the majority of their lives fighting intergalactic wars.
Needless to say, they approached sports a little differently than most people.
"Okay," I began, standing in front of my audience like a very underqualified gym teacher. "Basketball is actually pretty simple."
Across from me, Crosshairs folded his arms.
"I doubt that."
"It's literally just avoiding opponents and throwing a ball through a hoop."
"And yet you're giving us a presentation."
I chose to ignore him.
Nearby, Bumblebee was spinning the basketball on one finger. I had absolutely no idea where he'd learned to do that, and honestly I was starting to become concerned.
"Each team tries to score points by getting the ball through the hoop," I explained. "The team with the most points wins."
Hound raised his hand and I immediately regretted acknowledging him.
"Question."
"Yes?"
"Can I tackle people?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because that's not basketball."
Hound looked genuinely disappointed. "That seems like a huge design flaw."
From beside him, Drift nodded thoughtfully.
"I must agree. A warrior should be permitted to challenge his opponent directly."
"This is a sport, not a duel."
Drift appeared unconvinced.
Meanwhile, Crosshairs had taken possession of the basketball and was idly tossing it between his hands.
"So the goal is to throw this thing through the hoop?"
"Yes."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"...Humans are easy to entertain."
I pointed at him.
"Give me the ball."
"No."
"Crosshairs."
"It belongs to me now."
I turned to Optimus.
"Fearless, can you help me out here?"
The response was immediate. Both Crosshairs and Hound smirked. And Drift suddenly became very interested in the conversation.
And Optimus–
Optimus froze…Again.
His optics flickered toward me before he awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Crosshairs," he said, sounding slightly more formal than usual, "return the ball."
Crosshairs' smirk somehow grew wider.
"Oh, now that's interesting."
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"It is clearly something."
"It absolutely is."
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, but nobody elaborated.
Cowards.
By now, Bumblebee was practically vibrating with excitement. A burst of music played from his radio before he pointed enthusiastically toward the court area we'd improvised.
"Let's get it started!"
"Finally," Hound said. "I was beginning to think we'd be stuck in school forever."
"You've been listening for five minutes."
"It felt like years."
I groaned.
"Okay. Fine. New plan. Learning by doing."
The Autobots immediately brightened.
Apparently, that was exactly what they wanted to hear. As everyone started moving toward the makeshift court, I watched them go and felt a sudden wave of concern.
A very reasonable concern. One that probably should have occurred to me sooner. Because I was no longer teaching basketball to ordinary people. I was teaching basketball to Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Hound, Drift, and Crosshairs.
Somewhere in the distance, Cade was going to hear the inevitable explosion and wonder what had happened.
Now…Time to split them into teams.
In hindsight, dividing the Autobots into teams was the moment this stopped being a friendly learning experience and became a full-blown competitive disaster.
The problem wasn't that they were bad sports. The problem was that they were extremely good competitors.
I stood in the middle of our makeshift basketball court, holding the basketball under one arm while a group of giant alien robots stared at me with varying levels of anticipation.
"Okay," I announced. "We're splitting into teams."
Immediately, everyone started talking at once.
"I call Bumblebee," Hound said.
"No."
"I wasn't asking."
"Still no."
Crosshairs pointed at me.
"I don't trust her. She's clearly going to rig this."
I gasped dramatically trying to hold in my laugh.
"How dare you."
"You smiled when you said that."
"That doesn't prove anything."
"Yeah it does."
Nearby, Bumblebee's radio played a suspiciously triumphant sound effect. I narrowed my eyes.
"You don't get to pick teams either."
His shoulders slumped. The drama. The betrayal. The heartbreak. The freaking drama queen.
Honestly, you'd think I'd just informed him that Santa Clause wasn’t real. I’m leaving that conversation to Optimus…
Trying very hard not to laugh, I began assigning teams.
"Alright. Team one will be Optimus, Bumblebee, and me."
The second those words left my mouth, Crosshairs groaned.
"Oh great."
"What?"
"You gave yourself Prime."
"I didn't give myself Prime."
"You absolutely gave yourself Prime~”
I pointed accusingly at him.
"Excuse you! I'm not the one making this weird."
Hound raised an eyebrow.
"Pretty sure you're both making it weird."
Before I could ask what that was supposed to mean, Drift stepped forward.
"And who shall comprise the second team?"
I looked at the remaining Autobots.
"Hound, Crosshairs, and Drift."
For a moment, nobody said anything. Then Crosshairs looked at Hound. Hound looked at Crosshairs. Then both of them looked at Drift.
"This is either going to be amazing," Hound said.
"Or catastrophic," Crosshairs added.
Drift folded his arms.
"I see no reason it cannot be both."
That was somehow the most concerning thing he'd said all afternoon.
As everyone moved toward their respective sides of the court, I found myself standing beside Optimus. Even after all this time, it was still strange how easily his presence could calm me down. Maybe it was because he always seemed so steady. So certain.
Or maybe it was because he looked absolutely ridiculous holding a basketball. The image alone was worth a million dollars.
I glanced up at him and grinned. "Ready, Fearless?"
For the third time that afternoon, Optimus briefly hesitated. His optics flickered toward me before he cleared his throat.
"I believe so."
I blinked.
There it was again. That weird little reaction. The one that kept happening whenever I used that nickname.
Interesting.
Unfortunately, before I could investigate this mystery further, Bumblebee rolled up beside us and immediately played a loud love song through his speakers.
Dangit Bee!
The entire court froze.
I stared at Bumblebee. Bumblebee stared right back.
Crosshairs and Hound immediately doubled over laughing. Drift actually covered his face with one hand.
And Optimus–
Oh.
Oh that was priceless.
The mighty Optimus Prime, legendary leader of the Autobots, looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
"Bee," he said.
Just that.
One word.
Yet somehow it contained the exhausted energy of a father whose child had embarrassed him in public.
The song got louder.
"BUMBLEBEE."
I was trying so hard not to laugh that it physically hurt. Meanwhile, Crosshairs was pointing between us like he'd discovered evidence of an international conspiracy.
"Called it."
"You called nothing."
"I absolutely called something."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
“Can we just get back to the–“
Before the argument could continue, Optimus gently bounced the ball against the ground.
The game was about to begin.
And when it did, it lasted approximately seven seconds before everything fell apart.
Now, in my defense, I had expected a certain amount of chaos. I was attempting to teach basketball to a group of giant alien robots with the collective impulse control of caffeinated squirrels. There had never been a universe where this ended normally.
What I had not expected was for things to go wrong quite so quickly.
"Alright," I announced, trying to sound like an actual referee and not someone who had completely lost control of the situation. "First rule: no tackling, no weapons, no transforming, and no trying to destroy the hoop."
Across the court, Hound raised a hand.
"What if the hoop attacks first?"
"Hound, The hoop is not going to attack first."
"That's exactly what an attacking hoop would want us to think."
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"This is going to be a long day."
Optimus bounced the ball once again before passing it to Bumblebee.
The second Bumblebee got possession of the ball, he took off.
And I mean took off.
The yellow Autobot darted across the court so fast that everyone froze in surprise.
"Holy–“
Before I could finish the sentence, Bumblebee dribbled between Hound's legs, spun around Drift, bounced off a nearby wall, and shot the ball directly into the hoop.
The ball swished perfectly through the net.
What. The. Hell.
"...Bee?" I asked.
Bumblebee innocently tilted his head.
"Since when can you do that?"
His radio immediately played a clip: "I've been practicing."
The court exploded.
"YOU'VE BEEN PRACTICING?!" I shouted.
For years, apparently. The realization hit all of us at once.
While we'd been saving the world and fighting Decepticons, Bumblebee had somehow found the time to become a basketball prodigy. I mean, he did get here before anyone else.
Crosshairs pointed accusingly.
"The tiny yellow bug has been hustling us."
Hound looked offended.
"You knew how to play this whole time?!"
Bee responded by casually spinning the basketball on one finger.
This show-off.
Absolute menace.
"I trusted you," Crosshairs said dramatically.
Bee's radio played laughter. Meanwhile, Drift seemed to have entered an entirely different state of mind.
"The strategic movements are fascinating," he mused. "Observe the fluidity. The grace. The careful balance between offense and defense."
Crosshairs stared at him.
"We are thirty seconds into the game."
"And already the lessons are clear."
"There are no lessons."
"There are many lessons."
As they continued arguing, I noticed Hound slowly creeping toward Bumblebee. Very slowly. Suspiciously slowly.
The moment Bee looked away, Hound lunged.
I immediately blew my whistle.
"FOUL!"
Hound froze.
"What?"
"You can't tackle people!"
"I wasn't tackling him."
"You literally dove at him!"
"I was being defensive."
"That is not defense!"
"It's aggressive defense."
Across the court, Optimus actually laughed.
Not the slight amusement he'd shown earlier.
An actual laugh.
The sound caught my attention instantly.
I glanced up and found him watching the chaos unfold with an expression I rarely got to see – completely relaxed and genuinely entertained. He isn’t known as the most violent Optimus Prime for no reason after all.
For a brief moment, our eyes met.
I grinned.
"Having fun, Fearless?"
Optimus nearly dropped the basketball.
“…Yes. Though I believe we should continue the game."
The suspiciously formal response only made Crosshairs grin wider.
"Sure, Prime."
I buried my face in my hands. The game wasn't even ten minutes old. Nobody was keeping score.
~
At some point during the chaos, I realized that Bumblebee wasn't actually the biggest problem on the court.
This was surprising.
Considering Bumblebee had secretly transformed himself into the Michael Jordan of Cybertron, I had honestly assumed he would remain Public Enemy Number One for the rest of the afternoon.
I was wrong.
The real problem was Optimus Prime.
Or more specifically...
The fact that Optimus Prime was approximately thirty feet tall.
"Fearless, pass!"
Optimus immediately tossed me the ball. I caught it, dribbled twice, dodged around Crosshairs, and then attempted what would have been a very respectable shot.
The ball sailed through the air. Then a giant blue-and-red hand appeared. The ball was gone and I stopped running.
Everyone stopped running.
Optimus was holding the basketball.
Not because he had stolen it or because he had blocked it.
No.
He had simply reached up and plucked it out of the air like someone grabbing an apple from a tree.
"That's cheating."
Optimus looked genuinely confused.
"I did not cheat."
"Optimus, you are literally the size of a building."
"I fail to see how that is relevant."
Across the court, Hound pointed dramatically.
"See?! I've been saying that all day!"
"You've been saying a lot of things all day."
"And most of them were right."
"They absolutely were not."
Optimus bounced the ball once before calmly walking toward the hoop.
Not running. Not even trying.
Just walking.
"Fearless?" I asked suspiciously.
"Yes?"
"What are you doing?"
"I am scoring."
Then, without even jumping, he reached up and gently placed the basketball through the hoop.
The entire court erupted.
"NO!"
"That shouldn't count!"
"BOO!"
"THAT'S NOT BASKETBALL!"
Bumblebee's radio actually played a booing sound effect. Even Drift looked offended.
Optimus glanced around at the outrage. (A/N – poor Optimus!!😂)
"I successfully scored."
"You placed it in the basket!" I protested.
"The objective is for the ball to enter the hoop."
"Not like that!"
His optics narrowed slightly.
"Your rules are increasingly specific."
I threw my hands into the air.
"This is why giants shouldn't be allowed in sports!"
Crosshairs immediately pointed at Optimus.
"I vote we ban him."
"Seconded," Hound agreed.
Bumblebee's radio played a clip:
"Too over…powered."
"Guys, I am standing right here," Optimus informed us.
Nobody cared. But I wasn’t going to be mean and kick him out.
But unfortunately, kindness always has a consequence. A few minutes later, things somehow became worse. Because now Optimus had started actually trying.
Every pass was perfect. Every shot was accurate. Every rebound belonged to him. At one point he caught three missed shots before they even touched the ground.
I was beginning to suspect there wasn't a single athletic activity on Earth that the man couldn't master…even accidentally!
Meanwhile, Crosshairs was rapidly losing his mind.
"This isn't fair."
"It is fair."
"No, it isn't."
"Yes It is."
"You have Prime!"
I pointed at Bumblebee, who was currently dribbling circles around Hound.
"You have Bee!"
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because I don't like your argument."
Hound groaned.
"That's not how arguments work."
"Sure it is!”
As the arguing continued, I managed to steal the ball from Drift and sprint toward the hoop. For one glorious moment, nobody stopped me.
I was free.
I was unstoppable.
I was–
And then a large shadow suddenly appeared beside me.
I looked up.
Optimus was matching my pace effortlessly.
Of course he was.
I laughed despite myself.
"You know, Fearless, normal teammates don't guard their own team."
His faceplate shifted in what looked suspiciously like amusement.
"Then perhaps you should remain on my side of the court."
The comment caught me so off guard that I nearly fumbled the ball. For a second, I just stared up at him. The grin on my face slowly widened.
"Oh?"
Across the court, Bumblebee immediately played a romantic song through his radio.
In an instant, Optimus cleared his throat for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon and turned away.
Unfortunately for him, the slight blue glow of his optics somehow seemed brighter than usual.
And unfortunately for me...I thought it was kind of adorable.
That realization was significantly more alarming than any basketball game could ever be.
~
By the time the game finally came to an end, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the base in shades of gold and orange. After the basketball had been launched into a pond and the resulting argument had somehow lasted another fifteen minutes, everybody seemed to reach the same conclusion simultaneously.
We were done.
Not because someone had won, or because someone had lost.
Mostly because we were all tired. And because nobody had any idea what the score was anymore.
The court was littered with evidence of the disaster we'd created throughout the afternoon. Cade and Izabella had eventually shown up just in time to witness the worst of it, and after watching giant alien robots argue over basketball rules with all the seriousness of a United Nations meeting, they'd spent most of the evening laughing at us.
I sat on a large crate near the edge of the court and stretched my sore arms over my head. Every muscle in my body ached.
Which felt incredibly unfair. All the players had been giant alien robots, except for me. Why was I the exhausted one? Oh wait, that’s right: because every single player was an alien robot.
Nearby, Hound was still trying to defend his actions.
"I maintain that tackling would've improved the game."
"It would've improved your game," Crosshairs corrected.
"Exactly."
"That's not helping your argument."
Drift sighed heavily from where he sat.
"The true victory was the knowledge we gained."
Crosshairs looked genuinely offended.
"We literally learned nothing."
"We learned many things."
"No."
"Yes."
"No!”
I smiled despite myself. For all their complaining, everybody looked happy. Relaxed. Comfortable.
The kind of comfortable that only happened after spending an entire day laughing with people you cared about.
For a moment, I found myself just looking around at all of them. At Bumblebee, who was somehow still celebrating despite the fact that nobody knew who had won. At Hound and Crosshairs continuing their eternal argument. At Drift attempting to inject wisdom into a conversation that absolutely did not deserve it.
And finally–
At Optimus.
He stood a short distance away from the others, holding the basketball in one hand while watching the group with quiet amusement. The setting sunlight reflected against his armor, and for a moment he looked oddly peaceful.
Not like a legendary leader, or the savior of worlds.
Just...Happy.
Before I could stop myself, I found myself smiling. And almost immediately, his optics shifted toward me.
Of course he noticed.
The man could detect emotional distress from three countries away. A smile wasn't exactly difficult.
After a moment, he started walking toward me.
I watched him approach, trying very hard not to think about how unfair it was that a giant alien robot could somehow make my heart beat a little faster simply by existing.
When he stopped beside me, he looked down at the basketball in his hand before offering it toward me.
I blinked.
"What?"
"You found it."
I laughed.
"Fearless, that's just a basketball."
"Nevertheless."
The corner of my mouth twitched. Only Optimus Prime could somehow turn returning a basketball into a meaningful gesture.
I reached out and accepted it. Our hands brushed briefly as I took the ball.
Just a tiny moment that barely meant anything. Yet for some reason, it made my stomach do a strange little flip. The feeling was so unexpected that I immediately looked away.
Nope. Ignoring that. Absolutely ignoring that.
"So," I said quickly, bouncing the ball once against the ground. "Any thoughts on your athletic career?"
Optimus actually chuckled.
A real one.
“Unfortunately, now. After all, I have been informed that I am unfairly overpowered."
"Yup! You literally just placed the ball in the hoop."
"But I scored."
"But you cheated."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did!”
For a moment, we both laughed. The conversation around us faded into the background. Not completely, but just enough that the moment felt strangely quiet compared to the chaos of the rest of the afternoon.
Then Optimus spoke again.
"You seemed happier today."
The comment caught me off guard.
I looked up and saw that his optics were fixed on me.
They were Gentle. Attentive...Waiting.
And just like that, all joking instincts vanished.
"Yeah," I admitted softly. "I was."
For a brief moment, neither of us said anything. The evening breeze drifted across the court as the others continued talking in the distance. And somehow, despite all the noise, the moment felt oddly private.
"I am glad."
The words were simple but something about the sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten.
I felt my face heat up as I swallowed. "Thanks, Fearless."
The nickname slipped out naturally.
And immediately I saw that same reaction I'd been noticing all afternoon. Something warm flickered behind his optics before he looked away for the briefest second.
And suddenly a realization occurred to me.
Not a complete realization.
Just enough to make my heart skip.
Oh.
He makes my heart skip.
Before I could think too hard about that, Bumblebee's radio suddenly blasted a loud romantic song from across the court.
The silence shattered instantly.
I groaned.
"Bee!"
The music got louder.
Crosshairs immediately started laughing.
Hound nearly fell over.
And for the first time all afternoon, I watched Optimus look genuinely flustered.
Not much, but enough to make me grin.
As the laughter spread across the court once again, I found myself holding the basketball a little tighter.
Maybe teaching the Autobots basketball had been a terrible idea. Maybe we'd accomplished absolutely nothing. Maybe the entire day had been a complete disaster.
But as Optimus fell into step beside me while everyone headed back toward the base, I couldn't help thinking it had been one of the best days I'd had in a long time.
And judging by the small glance he sent my way before looking forward again...
I had a feeling he thought so too.
❤️
💙