Using Bumblebee II

(AN: Oh the pervy worm GabrielC came up with is too good to waste! And my guys haven't finished their revenge for the Worm on the Nemesis yet. This chapter's just wrong-style fun. Next chapter (gulp!!) is straight out threesome raunch. I need to build my courage to post it!)

*****
Bumblebee discovered he enjoyed the feeling of Mikaela squirming on the seat. Now, the shrieking and pounding on his windows he could do without. Why hadn’t he ever noticed this before? He accelerated, feeling her pushed back into the seat. Feeling more of her. He could feel the exact line where her low-rise jeans exposed a crescent of warm skin on her back. He could feel her hands clutching at his interior.

“What’s gotten into you, Bee?” she said, hotly. “And what the hell were you doing to Sam?”

“Interface,” he bleeped.

“Interface?! Bee, you can’t do that with Sam! He’s a boy!”

Bumblebee said nothing, letting the weight of the situation hit her. He felt…evil. It felt good.

“Oh no, Bee. Not me!” The Camaro roared down the highway, Mikaela pounding at the window, trying to attract the notice of other drivers. California drivers—good luck with that!

“Okay, Bee, it’s fine. Just let me out.” She struggled to sound calm.

He buzzed, driving until he came across an abandoned-looking garage. He blurted at it in Cybertronian until it rattled its way open. He rolled in and barked the door closed behind him. Only after it had shut off all the daylight behind them did he pop the door locks. Mikaela scrambled out. He shifted to his robot mode, leaning over her.

“Bee,” she said, warningly. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but no.” She thought back to Sam, his pants ripped off, looking panicked. Had Bumblebee tried to kill him like Frenzy had? No, it didn’t look like that. Frenzy hadn’t ripped off his underpants, at least. What did Bee want from her—oh no.

His face loomed over hers, normally so friendly, so curious. He still looked curious. Not so friendly, though. “Hi,” he blurted in his strange mechanistic pseudo-voice. He hung there, his face in the air just in front of her.

“Hi,” she said, stepping back until her spine hit the wall. “Bee, you’re maybe sick? Do you want to see Ratchet?”

“Want…you.” He leaned in closer. Mikaela’s head bumped against the wall behind her. She could smell the slightly warm gasoline smell from him. Barricade hadn’t smelled like that. Optimus…smelled like diesel. Why hadn’t she ever noticed this before? He bumped his face clumsily against her mouth, bruising her lips. Was he trying to kiss her? He pulled back. His eyes glittered silvery blue for an instant.

//lips warm and soft and yielding against hard metal plating. Mouth, warmer, wet, inviting//

He leaned in again, more focused. He pressed against her mouth, probing between her lips with his sensitive glossa. She resisted, pushing away at his face with her hands. She pushed one foot against his hip. She turned her face away to break the kiss. “No!” she said. “Stop it!”

“Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” his gears whined.

“Bee, it’s me. You know, Sam and me? We’re together?”

He shook his head. “Myyyyyyyyyy.”

“No. Not yours.”

Bee sat back for a moment, his throat clicking. Mikaela thought for a minute. Was she really Sam’s? Is that what she was trying to say? No…. Sam was all right, way better than Trent. But he wasn’t perfect. What did she really want? Really? Oh, that answer was easy. Prime. What man could ever hope to be as perfect as Optimus? So brave. Noble. And…she knew Optimus wanted her. And thanks to Barricade, that filthy monster, she knew what to do once she got him. But, maybe, maybe she needed some practice. Her first real kiss with a boy hadn’t been prize-winning. And she’d probably only have one shot to get Prime. She sucked in a breath, released it. “Okay.”

Bee tilted his head at her. The silver glitter flowed over his eyes again. He leaned in. This time, Mikaela opened her mouth under his. It…it wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t Optimus. She tried to remember what that had been like, but all she could remember was her fear and horror at being held captive by those filthy Decepticons.

Bee grunted, pushing against her, his glossa probing more aggressively into her mouth. This wasn’t gross at all, even with Bee. It reminded her of her very first kiss, with one of the neighborhood boys. Friendly, safe. Not sexy at all, though. Still, this was practice. Right? It wasn’t gross. Why had she thought it was gross when Optimus had kissed her before? Oh, right—those filty Decepticons. And that horrible slutty woman.

She turned her attention to the Autobot. He seemed to be enjoying it. He was making a noise almost like a purr, pulsing entire body. Tentatively, she stroked her hands along the sides of his head, trying to note when he seemed to respond. He seemed to like having his audio pickups stroked, she noticed. She broke the kiss, pulling him in closer and rubbing her cheek against one of the pickups. He made a weird grating sound, and shoved her harder against the wall, his hands moving to explore her shoulders, arms, upper body. The sound became like a growl. He tore at her shirt, ripping the collar wide over one shoulder.

Oh, he liked that. She’d have to remember that. But still…this had to stop. She squirmed. “Bee!” She wanted to figure out how to seduce Optimus. She didn’t want to go all the way. Not with Bee. Optimus—he should be her first. Like an entirely new virginity. He licked at her throat. “No! Bee!” He tore off the rest of her shirt. Suddenly she felt a new awareness of how big he was, and how dangerous along with the sudden rush of air on her bare skin. She’d always treated him as something like an overgrown puppy. But he had ripped off her shirt without even trying. He prodded at her ribcage under her bra. Paused. Prodded again. He looked confused.

Bee scooped her off the ground, lifting her up so he could examine her side more closely. She clutched her bra to her—one strap had been ripped by the Autobot. He was…looking for something. His other hand drifted to the same spot on himself. Why did that remind her of something? Where had she seen that before?

Oh. Barricade. That’s where he said they had their…modules and stuff. And he was looking for that spot on her. He wanted to…all the way? And he thought she was a bot? He knew better. He’d seen Sam making out with her often enough to know that. What had gotten into him?

She twisted herself out of his grasp and ran to the door, her hands slapping at the wall where she hoped to find the door opener. Bee lunged after her, his hands catching her jeans. With a shriek of fabric, he tore them off her as easily as he’d torn her shirt. His hands were strangely hot against her backside. He bent over and licked at her back, pinning her to the ground, tearing the jeans the rest of the way off her legs. He lifted his weight off her for a moment, holding her with one hand, his other hand reaching for his module. Mikaela felt one of his fingers probe between her legs.

//heat and wetness and oh such an exquisite feeling. Red hair thrown back against a silver-taloned hand. Throbbing ecstasy.//

He jerked at her panties, roughly, growling with desire. He leaned forward, hauling Mikaela’s hips up with one hand, readying his module. It almost burned him. He didn’t think it was supposed to hurt. The memories told him it didn’t hurt. But he wanted.

“No!” Mikaela screamed, with real fear. She kicked him in the face. “Stop! Please. I’ll do anything. Tell me what you want!”

“I am getting what I want.” Not his voice. But a voice from his processor. Cold, dispassionate. And he looked down at Mikaela and saw another form entirely—black and silver and white. Barricade? The name floated up to his processor. He shook his head, as if trying to shake loose from a memory. His hand tightened around Mikaela’s hip.

//Barricade writhing in pain..the hot hard throb of a datastream//

“No!” she shrieked. “Bee! No! Stop!!” He heard a grating noise over the sound of her voice. Another not-his memory? Light cut across his optical feeds, and the next thing he knew, his optics flared red-pink and then….black.

*****

“Slag,” Barricade said. “Stopped him just before it got interesting.”

“THAT is interesting?” Blackout looked vaguely nauseous. “All that pinky colored stuff—so…squishy.”

“Hey, don’t knock it til you’ve tried it,” Barricade retorted.

“It is not all uniformly squishy,” Starscream corrected. “Some of it has a lower viscosity than the rest.”

Barricade snickered. “You are a closet romantic, aren’t you?”

“I am merely trying to educate Blackout.”

“Oh, if he wants an education in this, I think he knows who to come to,” Barricade said, smugly.

“Weird idea: maybe Blackout wants to retain his purity?” The copter shook his head. Perverts. Seriously. He was surrounded by perverts.

“Then why you here watching with us?” Barricade countered.

“Uhhhh, moral support?”

*****

Ratchet knelt over the smaller bot, his face concerned. “Bumblebee,” he said, prying open one of the smaller bot’s optics. “You said he was acting funny?”

“No,” Mikaela retorted, “he abducts me and tries to screw me every day. Nothing out of the ordinary here.” She huddled in the wreck of her shirt.

Ratchet sighed. “I was actually asking for more detail as what you mean by ‘funny’.”

“Oh.”

Bumblebee stirred.

“Bumblebee,” Ratchet said, soothingly. “I’m just going to check you out, all right?” He held up a scanner. Bee knocked it out of his hand, roughly. It skittered across the floor and under a set of go-jacks in the corner. The smaller bot pushed himself to his feet, eyes on Ratchet’s. Somehow he managed to look menacing. “Bee….” Ratchet said, warningly. He raised his EMP stunner. “You know I’ll use this.” Bee kept advancing. Mikaela pushed herself further into the shadows.

Bee grabbed Ratchet by an arm fairing, pulling him close so that he could grab the back of the other bot’s helm with his other hand. He pulled the larger bot down into a kiss. Ratchet tried to yell, but his mouth was covered by Bumblebee’s.

//Blackout’s mouth hard against his…getting slammed hard to the floor…long sweep of rotors under his fingers///Megatron’s glossa twining in his///

Bee shook his head, startled. What the…? These were not pleasant memories like the others. Ratchet took the opportunity to hit him with his stunner. Bee twitched. The silver glaze swept over as his eyes flickered under the pulse. He snatched the stunner from Ratchet’s hand, crushing it.

//feel of another datastream struggling to come into synchrony//

Not his. Not his memory. But he wanted that. He reached for Ratchet’s hatch. Ratchet kicked him away with a ferocity he rarely showed, sending the smaller bot crashing through the wood and glass garage door and into the street.

Bee shook himself getting up. Didn’t like playing rough. Not supposed to hurt. There…down the street. Hiding from him. He’d be more fun to play with…..

Ratchet called Optimus. “Optimus, big problem. Bee’s gone crazy. He’s gone after Mikaela and Sam—“

“Mikaela?” Prime cut him off. “Is Mikaela okay?”

Ratchet’s brows knitted. Not the time for this. “She’s pretty okay,” he said, neutrally. “But if we don’t get Bee under control….”

“Right. We’re on our way.” Optimus cut the line.

*****

Barricade fell over onto the sand, laughing.

“You,” Starscream observed, “are going to regret getting sand in your servos.”

“Probably, but it’s much funnier to watch than it was to live through.”

“It was not fun for me to live through, either, Barricade.”

“Huh. You got laid, at least.”

“Did I? I do not remember.”

“Ouch, Starscream,” Blackout said. “That really fraggin’ hurts. Thought I’d at least be memorable. You know, what with the saving your crankcase and all.”

Barricade snickered. “Spoken like the mech who brought new meaning to ‘taking one for the team’.”

Blackout felt his cheekplates burn. Worse when Starscream burst out giggling.

A moment later, the jet sobered up. “I am sorry, Barricade. Blackout. I—“

“No biggie,” Barricade said. “Kinda relieved you don’t have the hots for me, if you don’t mind.”

Blackout shrugged. “You’d do the same for me. I hope.”

“Did it hurt you?” Starscream looked concerned, all humor gone from his voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Blackout felt self conscious—the other bots were staring at him. “Least I’m not a wuss like Ratchet,” he said, trying to deflect attention.

“Oh my…,” Starscream said, turning back to the projection. “That poor vehicle…..”

*****
Ratched damped his audio so he could hear himself think over the woman shrieking. “My car!” He could still hear every word she said, just not quite as processor-splittingly. “My car! What is he doing to my car?”

That last was a very good question. One that Ratchet really didn’t want to have to formulate an answer to. Prime was on his way, right? Let Optimus do it.

Bee spraddled over a yellow VW Beetle, his hands pawing at it. He was rubbing his face along the windscreen, whining pitifully. As if he were asking it to do something. After a moment he pushed back, waiting for the car to do something. With a pssssssshhhhhh, it lost air from one front tire and sagged toward the ground. That was it. Bee looked crestfallen. Disappointed. Then angry. He kicked the car, sending its bumper flying into a nearby shop window. He stomped up the street, the very picture of a pouting adolescent. Until he saw….

The GMC. Black. Topkick. Ironhide….

Stumbling, he ran down the street towards it, bleating.

“Uh, Prime?” Ratchet hit his comm, “You didn’t send Ironhide, did you?” He cringed, waiting for the GMC to punch Bee in the face.

“He’s on his way, why?”

“Oh. Just struck me that might be a bad idea.” The GMC rocked under Bee’s weight. That wasn’t Ironhide. Bee fell to his knees, licking at the front grille, his hand stroking the quarter panels.

“Mommy!” a girl in the growing crowd shouted, “That robot is trying to kiss that car!”

“Is that a boy robot? Is that gay?” a little boy asked. His father covered his eyes with one hand and tore him away.

Ironhide swung around the corner in a squeal of tires to see Bumblebee settle down to suck at a headlamp. “What the---?!” Ironhide rose from his vehicle mode, furious. “Get the hell off me—that thing you think is me!” He swung at the yellow bot’s head. Bee’s shoulders hit the ground with enough force that he bounced. Bee rolled to his feet, arms out. “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” his vocalizer whined.

Ironhide dropped into a combat crouch. “Don’t want to hurt you, Bee. But I will.” He balled his hands into fists as the smaller bot staggered toward him. Bee paused, as if he was thinking it over. Ironhide saw his eyes flicker silvery and then the yellow bot launched himself at Ironhide, tackling him above the shoulders. The two slammed to the ground, Bee on top, straddling Ironhide’s waist. Ironhide shoved at Bee’s shoulder’s frantically. “Get off! Get off me!!”

He yelled as Bee snapped open his interface hatch and grabbed roughly at his module. “What? No! Bee! NO! Put. That. DOWN!!!”

//module cool and somehow comforting in his mouth. This he knew how to do//

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH!!” Ironhide’s scream choked off as the smaller bot pulled his module into his mouth.

“Daddy, is THAT gay?” The little boy had forced his way to the front of the crowd.

“These robots are disgusting!” a middle aged woman in a flowered hat said, huffily. “Indecent. Oughtn’t be allowed around decent folks.” A church group, whose choir practice had been interrupted by all the ruckus, nodded and ‘Amen’d.

“Help!” Ironhide gasped. “Please! Anyone!”

A flash of pinkwhite light as Ratchet hit Bee with his stunner. Ironhide shrieked as part of the pulse transferred to his module. The two bots blacked out.
*****
This time even Blackout was laughing. “Did you—did you see that stuffy old Ironhide!” he chortled.

“Huh,” Barricade said. “Didn’t know an EMP stunner could work like that.”

“I do not,” Starscream added, “desire to know how you plan to make use of this new information.”

Barricade shot him a coy look. “You sure about that?” He reached over and ran a hand down the Seeker’s thigh. Something liberating about the reputation of being the pervert.

Starscream recoiled. “I am certain of it. Please stop touching me.”

“Aww, come on. This isn’t turning you on, even a little bit?”

“It is…entertaining.” He lowered his elbow to block his interface hatch, but the copter was too fast.

“Lying to us, are you, Starscream?” Blackout held up the greenlit module. “You’re interested in something. Bee? Ironhide? Who is it?”

“You do owe us, you know,” Barricade said, evaluatively.

“I do not! It was the worm’s fault! I did not mean to—“ Barricade silenced him, forcing him into a kiss.

“Come on,” Barricade murmured, a moment later. “Say no, and we’ll stop. Right, Blackout?”

Blackout ran his thumbs down the jet’s module. “I don’t hear him saying no….”