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If anyone had told Sam just two years ago that he would be friends with a group of giant robots from outer space after saving his planet, he would have laughed and directed them to Miles, because god only knew how much Miles needed someone else to bounce his crazy ideas off of.

 

If someone had told him what happened next, then he may have run screaming in the opposite direction.

 

'No,' Sam thought. 'Wouldn't have run. That's like enticing a wild animal to chase.' He was trembling so badly he was surprised, in a detached way, that he hadn't vibrated straight off the edge of the table Ratchet had him placed on. Bee nudged him with one finger gently, and Sam smiled waveringly up at his guardian.

 

"I-I'm f-f-fine Bee," he tried to reassure him. "Just... umm, n-nervous."

 

"I don't see why," Ratchet commented from the table just next to Sam's, arranging the necessary... tools. Sam purposely did not look in that direction. "It's a complicated procedure certainly, and unprecedented... but we wouldn't be going through with it if there was risk to you, Sam."

 

"I know that," Sam managed, trying to not think selfishly. "It's just... really, really freaky."

 

"You'll be safe," Bumblebee assured him. Sam swallowed and tried to focus on making his hands stop shaking.

 

"This is just... just..."

 

"Didn't we already go over this with you?" Ratchet said, sounding on the verge of exasperation.

 

They had. Sam had been there when they had told him that with the Allspark gone, there was no way to create the sparks, the source of life, for their species anymore. The ones remaining would live far beyond the entire human race still, but Sam could feel the sadness emanating from the Autobots when they explained it to him.

 

Fortunately and unfortunately, things hadn't stayed that way.

 

Sam had no choice but to submit to thorough scans from Ratchet when he made the mistake of telling Bee he felt "off" one day. Next thing Sam knew he was being sniffed and prodded and laser-scanned at by the Autobots' medic, who then summoned Optimus, and then the two of them talked while Ratchet continued to violate Sam's sense of personal space. Well, he assumed they talked, because they certainly acted like they were talking. For all Sam knew they text messaged each other as communication.

 

'That day didn't end well,' Sam mused, going over events in his head while Bee was stroking his back comfortingly with one large finger. It helped, surprisingly.

 

While Sam had been trying unsuccessfully to swat Ratchet's hands away from him, having had quite enough of this treatment, Optimus addressed him quietly.

 

"Sam..."

 

Something in the tone made Sam freeze, and get an anxious squirmy feeling in his gut.

 

He had known that exposure to the Allspark as it was destroyed might have affected his body somehow- it was one of the main reasons Bee had rushed him to Ratchet and not the hospital- but what Optimus had tried to explain to him that day took a few days to sink in. When it did sink in he had a nervous breakdown, his second since Mission City, and Bumblebee had been frantic with worry over his condition.

 

Sam had snapped and accused them of only worrying about him for their own interests, though he knew otherwise. He knew Bumblebee and the others worried about him because they genuinely cared for his wellbeing. But it probably added an extra element to their feelings, what with the knowledge that the only hope of adding to their race lay with one of their tiny human friends.

 

Sam was dubious about whether he still qualified as human or not, despite the numerous reassurances from both Autobots and Mikaela. Miles thought it was just about the coolest thing he had ever heard. Fat lot of help he was.

 

"Sam, if you do not calm your heart rate I will sedate you for this," Ratchet warned, looking up from the tools.

 

"Aww, be easy on him!" Wheeljack admonished, looking up from his own contribution to the work they were about to undertake. "Not every day this kind of thing happens, right?" Ratchet glared.

 

"That thing better not explode, is all I have to say to you."

 

Sam made an involuntary squeaking sound of distress.

 

"Would you two knock it off?" Bumblebee snapped, cupping hands around Sam as if to shield him. "He's nervous enough!"

 

"Hence the sedative," Ratchet replied. Wheeljack looked questioningly at the three of them.

 

"Maybe that wouldn't be a bad idea..." he mused.

 

"No way I'm letting... this, happen while I'm asleep!" Sam protested from inside the small fortress of Bee's hands. Bad enough he had agreed to this, suggested it even, but no way in hell he was going to just wake up afterwards with no clear idea of what they had done to him. Bee was stroking his back again with a thumb.

 

"Then make it just a mild sedative," Wheeljack suggested. "Just enough to help calm down."

 

The thought was tempting. But Sam shook his head, then realized they couldn't see him and spoke up.

 

"No. I'm... okay. I'll be fine."

 

"You're sure?" Ratchet questioned suspiciously. "This will be much easier if you're relaxed."

 

"I know, I know!" Sam answered. "But I'm allowed to be a little freaked out, okay?"

 

"I still don't see why. The internet says this is not such a foreign concept to humans. At least we aren't abducting you from your planet and-"

 

"The internet says a lot of things!" Sam yelped, half-angry. His voice cracked a little with how tight his throat was with emotion, and Bee brought his hands in closer around him, practically forming a cocoon around him. Sam shivered a little, but felt marginally better. There was something to be said about how safe being surrounded on all sides by someone who wanted to protect you felt. The bantering had switched over to a silent communications channel perhaps, or else they were done talking, and the only other sounds were muted.

 

Soon enough Sam felt much calmer, though his heart still raced in his chest. Bee had once again started to rub his back, and Sam leant backwards gratefully, exhaling heavily.

 

"Sam?" Bee questioned gently. Sam glanced up, and Bee's hands unfolded from around him enough for Bee to peer down at him.

 

"Hmm?"

 

"Ready?"

 

His heart thumped loudly a few times.

 

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

 

"... do you have a preference?"

 

Sam blinked. "Wa... what?"

 

"A preference," Bee repeated. "Ratchet and Wheeljack need to be here for their parts, but since this is a... ah, personal matter, do you have any preference for who does the more physical aspects?" It took Sam a moment to understand.

 

"You mean... who actually does the... touching?" He tried to keep his voice steady, even, strong, but it trailed at the end. Bee nodded.

 

"I could get Optimus if you like, or-"

 

"No!" Sam cried out. He trusted Optimus deeply, that was true, but for something like this... it was embarrassing, humiliating even, and he didn't want Optimus to see it. "No," he repeated, softer. "Are... are you going to stay Bee?"

 

"If you want me to."

 

Sam nodded. If anyone had to participate in this, he wanted it to be Bee. Better his best friend than anyone else.

 

Ratchet and Wheeljack both nodded their approval to themselves. Bumblebee had more experience with humans, this one in particular, and he would know better how keep him calm throughout this.

 

"Alright now," Ratchet interrupted. "Sam, we need you to take off your clothing." Sam winced, but started pulling off his shirt obediently. As he was taking off his shoes and pants, he tried in vain to ignore the electrical hum that was building as Wheeljack started up his device. The trembling started again when he reached for the hem of his boxers, but he steeled himself and took them off, standing rather awkwardly there in absolutely nothing and feeling completely exposed and vulnerable. It wasn't pleasant.

 

But hey, anything to help out, right?

 

Bee offered his hand and Sam climbed onto it gratefully. Bee cupped his other hand over him, like a human would carry a tiny bird, and brought him over to Ratchet, who silently directed him to put Sam on a human-sized platform set up on the second table and constructed specifically for this.

 

Sam slid out of Bee's hand even when he wanted to do anything but, and let Bee arrange him face-down in what felt like a table molded for his body, covered with some kind of soft cushioning. 'Fleece?' he wondered absurdly. He buried his face in it, whatever it was. The molded form of the table forced his legs to lay apart from each other, and the shaking started anew. He jumped when he felt a large hand settle over his body, tensing even as he told himself to relax so it wouldn't hurt as much. But it didn't come.

 

"Sam," Bee's voice started, and Sam chanced a glance to the side, seeing Bumblebee there. "Do you trust me?"

 

"Of course I trust you," Sam muttered into the fabric. "I'm here, aren't I? I picked you. I trust you."

 

"Then relax," he instructed. "This will be uncomfortable, but we're going to make sure it doesn't hurt." Sam didn't know why he even had to take it this way anyway. Couldn't they just inject something in through his skin or something? But, Bee's reassurance did help... a little. He nodded, and closed his eyes and hid his face against the platform again.

 

"Here we go," Ratchet murmured, handing over something to Bumblebee, who took it carefully and followed the silent directions from Ratchet.

 

Sam jumped again when he felt something (he didn't dare look) press against his opening.

 

'It's okay, it's fine, I'm doing this for a good reason, it's just like going to the doctor, you're going to be fine Sam,' he babbled internally. Whatever it was, and Sam tried to not think about that, it was warm at least.

 

'Nothing worse than being violated by cold... whatever, rather than warm, I suppose.'

 

"I need you to relax Sam." Bee instructed.

 

"Trying," was the terse response. "Kinda hard."

 

Bee's free hand was suddenly over him, pressing lightly against his back. It was warm (it couldn't have been that warm before, Sam was sure) and... did he feel a little bit of vibration?

 

"You've been doing really well," Bee's voice told him. "So well. You have no idea how much it means to us... to me, that you're willing to even try."

 

The encouraging words combined with the soothing warm humming feeling made his muscles relax gradually. This wasn't so bad... and he was doing good, Bee said so... he felt an illogical surge of affection towards his guardian. He was sure if it was anyone else doing this it'd be over with already, but it'd be much less pleasant. He was grateful that Bee was going slow and knew how to keep him from panicking.

 

He tensed marginally as the... whatever-it-was, pushed forward again, and dear god it had to be lubricated or something because as uncomfortable as it was, it was sliding in far too easily. Sam gripped the soft material underneath him with both hands, a grunt and whimper escaping his throat. Bee's hand became fractionally warmer and vibrated just a bit more, and Sam swallowed back anything else, just waiting and riding this out. Bee continued talking and Sam wondered distantly if they were aiming for his intestines with how much it felt like was being pushed into him. He groaned.

 

"Good, very good," Bee continued praising, hoping to distract Sam with words while he glanced at Ratchet for confirmation. Ratchet checked the readouts and nodded, motioning to Wheeljack before turning back to Bee and relaying a message over their private communications channel.

 

He doesn't seem to be enjoying it much.

 

Bee had to agree. While the internet was full of examples of humans very much enjoying having objects crammed in various orifices of their bodies, Sam was not. A quick cross-reference with the wi-fi connection set up surrounding the base gave him a few tips, and he wasted no time in trying them out.

 

Sam made an irritated, weary, groaning sound as he felt movement from whatever was crammed up in him. God, did they not have it in place? What were they aiming for, anyway? He grunted again as it shifted inside him- and it turned into a gasp halfway.

 

"O-oh," he said shakily. Bee clicked curiously.

 

"Better?"

 

"Umm... yes. I think. Maybe." That was a new feeling. Not unpleasant. He wasn't completely naive about the whole anal thing, so... had that been his prostate, then?

 

He figured it had to have been when it pressed against that spot again and he felt his penis twitch in response. He re-clenched his hands in the soft material around him, gripping it. Bee did it again and he couldn't stop a low moan from escaping his mouth, though he was trying his hardest to not squirm.

 

"B-beee," he managed, lifting his head slightly. "You don't have to-"

 

"Hush." Another brush against that spot and a surge of warmth had Sam slump back down and moan. "You may as well enjoy it."

 

Sam could only make an unintelligible "mmmm" sound in response. Ratchet had to pin Wheeljack with a glare to keep the curious scientist focused on his work and not peering over at them for the sake of scientific curiosity. Wheeljack's panels flashed at Ratchet in an irritated sequence, but the scientist stayed put and flicked a few of the switches.

 

Sam made a low, keening sound in his throat and ground his hips against the table, gasping.

 

"Th-that's..." he breathed.

 

"Yes?" Bee asked. Sam moaned into the table. "Ah," Bee continued. "It's good then? Your pheromone levels are rising, it must be. I'm glad, you deserve to enjoy this." He kept talking Sam through it while following what few instructions he was receiving from Ratchet.

 

Sam only kept making small noises of pleasure and started to sweat. Oh god, what were they doing to him? No, nevermind that, he didn't want to know what they were doing. Whatever the hell it was, it felt good, and Sam was pretty sure it shouldn't. As hard as he tried to stay unaffected, everything seemed to be endeavored toward the opposite- the soft material underneath him was comfortable against his bare skin, Bee's hand pressing against him was like an all-over heated massage that had him feeling good enough just on its own, and then the whatever-it-was currently inside of him started vibrating faintly. It was hopeless to try and not feel good.

 

"Hnnnnn..." he grunted, squirming against the table. "Bee..."

 

"Stop moving!" Ratchet snapped, and Sam yelped a little.

 

"S-sorry," he managed shakily.

 

"No, no, it's okay," Bee said, glaring at Ratchet. "You're doing great. Just relax and don't move, okay?" Sam made an affirmative noise, though his hips continued to move faintly, seemingly against his will.

 

"Bee?" Sam asked waveringly.

 

"What is it?"

 

"How... hah, hnnn... h-how much longer?"

 

Rather than take the cues Ratchet was giving him, Bee leaned down closer to Sam.

 

"Don't worry about that," he said quietly. "Just relax and enjoy this. Can you do that for me Sam?"

 

"Y-yeah..." Sam whimpered, gripping the table again. Damn it, why was listening to Bee's voice during this so nice? He was already hard enough that staying still was nearly impossible, especially when rubbing up against the soft material on the table was just oh-so-tempting.

 

The humming sound in the room increased suddenly and Sam cried out. Bee pinned him easily with his hand when Sam's body bucked in ecstasy.

 

"Oh god!" It was like something was pulling inside him, the kind of feeling like static electricity building, and hell if it didn't make him go crazy. He screamed, writhing underneath Bee's hand as much as he was able, hard length rubbing up against the table and oh that felt so so so good, please don't stop, that feels good, don't... stop...

 

"Shhh," Bee's voice broke through the buzzing, ringing in his ears. "I have no intention to stop just yet."

 

With a gasping spasm it was over, a sudden surge of something he felt that wasn't like any orgasm he'd ever had, and he came with a few twitches, entire body going limp in a few moments that seemed to last much longer than that. He shook afterwards, gulping in air. He thought Bee's hand might have stopped vibrating, but gotten warmer.

 

There was some clicking, buzzing, and sounds he associated with their language, but it was hard to focus with the ringing in his ears and the sound of his own heart thumping. Bee's hand was removed for a moment and he shivered at the loss of warmth, but he didn't have the energy to even open his eyes. A nap never sounded so good. Maybe that was why this table thing felt so comfortable... if only they would stop talking for awhile...

 

That obviously wasn't going to happen, as the clicking and beeping and myriad of other noises increased momentarily, and he groaned as the device was pulled from him. Well, at least it was over, he guessed...

 

Someone's hand was gently picking him up off the table and he blearily opened his eyes to see it was Bumblebee again.

 

"Mm," he grunted in greeting.

 

"Sam..." Bee responded, voice quiet. There was a scuffle from the other two mechs in the room as Ratchet was about to start detaching his tools from Wheeljack's device and Wheeljack was trying to stop him, but Sam didn't really see any of that. Bee had him cupped in his hands like before, and Sam curled up with a wince, any amount of shame or reservations about still being completely naked and now filthy with sweat and seed having been drowned in a sated contentment. He felt the air movement as Bee turned and started walking.

 

"Come on," Bee told him. "Let's get you cleaned up."

 

Sam yawned widely in response.

 

"Mmngh... did it work?"

 

Bumblebee didn't say anything for a moment, but Sam noticed the large fingers settling more closely around him and warming faintly again- as close to a hug as his guardian could manage.

 

"Thank you." Bumblebee managed.

 

Sam just sighed and fell asleep, curled up carefully.