Okay, so...yeah. XD This is basically total crack. I normally don't write things like this, especially involving robots and humans, but hey, first time for everything!

Title: Interfacing
Fandom: Transformers movie
Rating: R for adult scenes
Characters: Sam, Mikaela and Bumblebee
Pairings: Sam/Bumblebee, implied Sam/Mikaela and Mikaela/Bumblebee
Summary: Sam is shocked to learn that Mikaela has had an intimate encounter with his robotic car, and confronts Bumblebee about it.

The best thing about Mikaela, Sam thought sometimes—aside from a body that was hotter than most supermodels’—was that she actually understood the utter bizarreness that had become his life ever since he first realized that his car could walk and talk.

“So then he starts asking me about kinks and fetishes and all these other terms he’s learned from the internet, and I sort of just checked out.” Mikaela made a murmured noise of sympathy and stroked his arm. They were lying on a picnic blanket on the summit of a hill overlooking the lights of the suburbs, near a little-used nature trail that was growing over with dry California brush. The sun was rapidly setting, the stars appearing one by one in a darkening violet sky and the air slowly cooling from scorchingly hot to pleasantly warm. “I think I made some excuse about Mojo needing to get to the vet and booked.”

It was a place Sam often came with Mikaela and Bumblebee alike, but the thought of talking with his robot-disguised-as-car at the moment was painfully embarrassing. “Sometimes I really wish I could just cut out his wi-fi, or whatever it is they use.”

“He’d learn about it some other way,” Mikaela pointed out, snuggling close to his chest. “They’re pretty curious about human culture and biology, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed. Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed.”

“So you talked about sex with your giant robot. Just think, there are millions of kids all over America who would love to talk about sex with their own giant robots.”

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better. They’re welcome to the job, really. Or better yet, you can give him the birds and the bees.”

“Sounds entertaining. Did you show him your stash?”

Sam sat up quickly. “How do you know about my stash?”

Mikaela rolled over on her back, looking smug. “I didn’t till now.”

He felt the beginnings of a blush coming on and hoped the darkening sky would hide it. “Oh. Right. Well—it’s just—you know—my dad got them for me—it’s a guy thing—”

“And I wouldn’t understand because I’m a girl,” Mikaela finished, rolling her eyes. “Please. You should see my stash.”

Now his curiosity was piqued. “You have a stash?”

“Seriously, you really don’t see the humor in this whole situation? You’re not exactly a stranger to sex, so why the embarrassment?”

Sam sank back down onto his back, blushing more furiously than ever. “It’s just…he wanted to know about how we do it. How I do it.”

“Hmm.” Mikaela turned toward him and propped herself up on an elbow, chin in her hand, gazing down at him speculatively. “Maybe he wants to have sex with you.”

Once again Sam bolted upright.

“What?”

“Maybe he wants to have sex with you.”

“I heard you!”

“And?”

“It—that—that’s ridiculous!”

“Why?” Mikaela asked reasonably. “He likes you a whole lot.”

Okay. Here was another conversation he’d never expected to have—and, he was beginning to think, a side of Mikaela he hadn’t encountered before.

“He doesn’t want to—I mean, that’s not even possible!”

“They’re sentient. They have feelings. They must have something that resembles sex.”

“With other robots.” Sam pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming that he was sitting on a hill talking about robot sex with his girlfriend.

“Maybe it’s not sex like we think of it. Not quite as—you know—penetrative.”

“Are you the internet axe murderer? I’m pretty sure I’ve encountered weirdoes like you online who actually think about this stuff.”

“I’m trying to help you figure out what Bee wants,” Mikaela scolded.

“He doesn’t want that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s absurd. Laughable. Ludicrous, even.”

“Not that ludicrous,” Mikaela said.

Something in her voice made Sam stare at her suspiciously. In the fading light he could see the faintest hint of a blush on her tanned cheeks, and his stomach abruptly dropped.

“Oh. My. God.”

“What?”

“Oh my God!”

“What?”

“You’ve done it! Oh my God!”

“Done what?”

“My car!”

Mikaela’s blush deepened. “He calls it interfacing.”

“Oh my God!”

“It’s not that big a deal, Sam.”

Sam flopped back down on the blanket with a groan of utter misery. “Not that big a deal?! You—you cheated on me! With my car!”

“It wasn’t like that,” Mikaela said earnestly. “It was an accident. I’ve been trying to tell you—”

“How could it possibly have been an accident?”

“Well, because—and I know this sounds stupid, but it’s true—it just sort of happened before I realized what was going on.”

He glared up at her. “What sort of happened, exactly?”

“You want to know?”

“Yes. And then I’ll decide if it was an ‘accident.’”

Mikaela pushed her hair out of her face. “How much detail are we talking here?”

“Just tell me!”

“All right, all right. It was last week when you went golfing with your dad—”

“Last week? It’s been a whole week and you haven’t told me?”

She frowned at him. “Are you going to interrupt me every third sentence? Cause I’m not going to say anything if you are.”

Sam sighed. “No. Go on.”

“So Bee was bored, I guess, and he came over to my place—and we came up here, actually—and he had changed to robot and I was sitting on his shoulder and we were talking about nothing, and he started…sort of…humming.”

“Humming?”

“Yeah. Like this really low, deep hum, like a cat’s purr but much stronger. Sort of pulsing and…really, really deep. It—” Mikaela paused as though searching for the right words, licking her lips. “I don’t know how to describe it exactly, but it was like I could feel it in my bones and—God, Sam, it made my toes curl.”

“It did?” Sam asked, fascinated in spite of himself.

“Mmm. I didn’t even notice it at first and by the time I did I was already sort of—you know, sweaty and shaky, and I got a little freaked out and I would have left, but Bee stopped me. He asked me not to go and he said—he said he could feel what I was feeling and he knew I felt really good and he wanted to see how good he could make me feel.” She giggled and then clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself. “Sorry. That’s totally inappropriate. But your robot’s kind of awesome, Sam.”

Part of him didn’t want to ask, and the rest of him was screaming to know. “Did you…”

“Mmm. He was really good.”

“Mikaela!”

“Not better than you!”

“That’s not what I—I mean, that is what I—you shouldn’t have done that!”

“I know,” she said contritely. “You’re right. It was sort of an in-the-moment kind of thing. I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam felt slightly mollified. Freak-outs aside, he was surprisingly calm about the entire situation. For some reason the thought of Mikaela and Bumblebee together didn’t piss him off as much as it probably should have, possibly because Bee was his best friend and not some moronic jock, and—as Bumblebee himself had told him on several occasions—would rather die than hurt intentionally hurt him.

But it was still bizarre.

“I just...I can't believe it."

“I can’t either,” she said wryly. “But maybe you should talk to him, you know?”

“I guess so.”

She propped herself up on her elbow again to look down at him. “Mad at me?”

He made a face at her. “A little.”

She stroked his arm. “I could make it up to you, if you want.”

There was enough suggestion in her voice to make him quirk an eyebrow. “Like…how?”

She grinned and leaned down to show him.

* * *

Sam’s parents were out of town for the weekend, which was normally an excuse for one of two things—a lot of sex with Mikaela in his bedroom, or an Autobot convention on his front lawn (or, on one painfully memorable occasion, both). But Mikaela was getting up early to help her dad in the shop the next morning, so she dropped him off without coming in. To his considerable relief, he found that there were no giant machines stomping around on his front lawn and trampling his mother’s flowerbeds, just Bee sitting innocently in the driveway, by all appearances a normal if ridiculously stylish car. Sam hesitantly ran his fingers over the hood of the car in greeting and felt a pleased rumble of the engine, but that was all the response he received.

Maybe he wasn’t in a talky mood—which, Sam decided, was just fine with him. He went into the house and made himself a turkey sandwich and ate it, then took a shower to get all the dirt off from rolling around with Mikaela. It was late by the time he fell into bed with the AC cranked high, but sleep didn’t seem to be coming. He lay on his back and tried not to think about his girlfriend ‘interfacing’ with his car.

It occurred to him that it was kind of strange—well, of course it was strange that Bumblebee would do that with any human, but especially that he would do it with Mikaela and not with Sam. Not that Sam would have done it, if given the chance. They were close, he and Bumblebee, but not close like that.

Though it was strange, sometimes, to have had a friend for only six months or so—someone who wasn’t even from Earth, for that matter—and to feel like they knew you better than anyone else, even your girlfriend, even your parents—to have that kind of instant connection that went far beyond anything he’d ever had with kids at school, a friendship that didn’t rely on going to classes and catching up in front of lockers, that was his no matter what he did and always would be and made him so happy he didn’t understand how he could not have known what he was missing all his life. It was different from what he felt for Mikaela but it was just as deep—maybe deeper. But Bumblebee and Mikaela…

Well, he thought wryly, maybe Bee realized that she might be a lot more liberated than he, Sam, was. He was beginning to suspect the same thing, especially considering that Mikaela had all but given him open permission to cheat on her with his car.

He needed to work out this whole situation somehow. Mikaela was right about one thing—he and Bumblebee had to talk.

He got out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and the same dusty pair of jeans he’d been wearing earlier, and went downstairs barefoot and out to the yard. Bee was motionless on the driveway and didn’t stir as Sam approached and put his hands on the hood. But when he told him, “We need to talk,” Bee came to life, buzzing and clacking and releasing and interlocking various mechanical parts until it was the robot and not the car that sat in the driveway, looking down at him.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he said. “I was dreaming and I didn’t want to leave it.”

Sam nearly asked what about—he hadn’t known that Autobots dreamed at all, since they didn’t seem to sleep—but said instead, “I need to ask you what you did with Mikaela.”

“Did? When?”

“Last week. When I went golfing with my dad. Look, she told me about it.”

Bumblebee seemed confused. “We went to the hill where we all go together. I was lonely without you.”

Sam refused to acknowledge the pleasure that admission gave him. “You slept with her.”

“Slept with her? No, I couldn’t have. We don’t sleep.”

“That’s not what I—Mikaela said you…‘interfaced.’” Not for the first time, Sam wished he didn’t blush so easily. “Had sex.”

“Oh,” Bee said simply, and then: “Yes.”

Sam had the abrupt and very frustrating feeling that he’d lost an argument they hadn’t even had.

“But that was my girlfriend, Bee,” he said, trying to recall what was upsetting him, and make his friend see it too.

Bumblebee nodded. “Yes. She loves you. She told me the best thing that ever happened to you was getting me for a car.” He looked very pleased about that. “And she’s happy that I make you happy.”

“But—why? Why with her?”

“It feels good. Interfacing. You and Mikaela have, haven’t you?”

He rubbed his head, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Yes, but…we’re both human. Having sex is—it’s a biological function. Reproduction, you know?”

“Of course.”

“And you can’t reproduce with humans.”

“But Sam,” Bumblebee said very gently, with the air of a first grade teacher explaining something to a confused six year old, “interfacing isn’t reproductive.”

Sam had the feeling that they weren’t arguing anymore, if they ever had been.

“What’s it for, then?”

“Feeling good,” Bee said simply.

“And that’s—that’s what you did with Mikaela? Made her feel good?”

Bumblebee nodded, looking pleased. “She felt very good. I could tell.”

“How?”

“By the electric pulses that run through human nervous systems. There’s something I can do…” Bumblebee hesitated and brushed the tips of two fingers briefly across Sam’s chest. “When I let them, the pulses jump into me, and I feel what you feel.”

“And…and that’s interfacing?”

“With a human. It’s different with my own kind.”

“I guess you get around a lot,” Sam said, and almost laughed.

Bumblebee looked at him soberly. “It was my first try, with Mikaela. I wanted to interface with you, but I didn’t know if you would like it. I thought if Mikaela tried it and thought it was okay, maybe you would too.”

“Will you—” His throat felt dry and he had to swallow before he could speak, and he couldn’t believe what he was about to say but he said it anyway. “Will you show me what you did with her?”

Without a word, Bumblebee offered a hand for Sam to step into, which he did. The Autobot placed him so that he was sitting more or less in Bee’s lap, leaning back against his torso, with both of Bee’s hands closed gently around him, pinning his arms to his sides. A little nervous, not knowing what exactly he was getting himself into, Sam said nothing and waited for it to happen.

He didn’t even notice when the humming started or when its intensity began to increase, or what it was doing to his body—he sat back against the metal of Bee’s torso and shivered slightly at its coldness through the fabric of his t-shirt and waited for something to happen, and then suddenly it was happening, all at once—he could feel Bumblebee humming from some deep core and it was all through his body and he couldn’t move a muscle, and it was not bone-deep, it was like being boneless. His arms and legs had turned to water and he could feel the peculiar pulse of the vibration thrumming in the pit of his belly, spreading lassitude to every limb, so that if he had been standing he would have helplessly collapsed, and as it was only Bee’s hands around him kept him from sliding right out of his lap and to the ground.

“Bee—” he gasped out, a little afraid at feeling so completely out of control of his own body. Nothing Mikaela had told him had prepared him for this.

“It’s okay, Sam,” Bee said reassuringly, and then the hum changed—it was too deep to hear in the air, but it went through him like a wave, sparking fire along every nerve. He shuddered and groaned and felt the front of his jeans become excruciatingly tight with the kind of erection he hadn’t had since he was a horny thirteen year old, the kind that would have sent him bolting into the bathroom for relief if he had been alone in his house, but he couldn’t have touched it now even if he’d wanted to—his hands were splayed limply at his sides, his body was not moving, and the reverberations running from his belly to the very tips of his fingers and toes and back again made the ache in his groin grow and grow until it was nearly unbearable, and he was powerless to do anything about it.

The vibration went in waves up and down and out and in, like a current of electricity, only instead of pain there was agonizing pleasure. His throat worked but no sound came out—if he could have spoken he might have begged for an end to the torment, or maybe for more…

Then it all seemed to reach a peak—one lip-biting, toe-curling, back-arching peak where the vibration resonated through him as though he were a bell, and simply obliterated all thought and reason. His body jumped as though touched to a live wire and the whole world turned white in one breathless moment that seemed to last an eternity, like his first time with Mikaela—like his first time ever.

And then it was over and he was limp and gasping in Bumblebee’s lap, the front of his jeans a sticky mess, and he could feel shudders running through the Autobot beneath him, as though aftershocks of Bee’s own pleasure.

“Oh my God,” was the first thing Sam said when he found his voice again, and the second thing he said was, “Oh my God.”

Bumblebee’s fingers squeezed him gently. “Are you all right?” he demanded, so anxiously that Sam hastened to reassure him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, buddy, of course I’m fine…I’m…wow.” He started to laugh and felt Bumblebee relax in response. “That was…Jesus.”

“It was Jesus? What does that mean?”

“No, no.” Sam laughed breathlessly, and then tried to stop and compose himself. “I mean, it was amazing.”

“Oh. Yes, it was.”

“And…you could feel what I…?”

“Yes,” Bumblebee said, sounding pleased.

Sam ran shaky hands through his hair and then climbed slowly down from Bee’s lap, testing the way his somewhat watery legs supported his own weight. “Wow. No wonder Mikaela went with it.”

“She was happy. Are you happy?”

Sam supposed that he was. One small part of him objected that it was kind of strange to be happy about having sex with his robotic car—or as close as that was to sex, anyway, and how close Sam wasn’t sure, and maybe further experimentation would be required before he was—but the rest of him was too happy to care.

“I need to change my pants,” he said, and made a face. “And—um—Bee?”

“Yes, Sam?”

“If you ever, uh, interface with Mikaela again, um, can I be involved?”

“Is that what humans call a threesome?” Bee asked him curiously.

Sam couldn’t help laughing again. “Yeah, I guess it is.”