Title: Academic Interruptions
Life had, thus far, been disappointingly normal for Sam Witwicky. Not that he was expecting to maybe save the world or anything before he'd even graduated high school, but he had been hoping for something along the lines of a girlfriend, perhaps a rousingly short career as the most popular guy in school. But despite what all the teen movies had led him to believe, he hadn't gotten his montage of bouncy music or even his slow clap yet. So far, he was occasionally acknowledged, mostly forgotten, guy who sat in the middle row in the middle of the room, with marks that were just enough below the level of alternating the grading curve that he didn't get his ass kicked on too regular a basis.
Or at least, that had been the status quo as of last Friday.
On this Monday morning, as he sat slumped over his bowl of Cap'n Crunch, Sam was sleepily pondering just what might happen today. Somehow, over the course of the weekend, he had turned from an undersexed nobody to the boytoy of one hot blond guy who couldn't talk.
So the hell what if it wasn't a girlfriend? He'd wanted his life to be more interesting; who was he to complain about the way his wishes were granted when they came in that packaging.
"Sam, straight home after school today," his mom said as she came into the kitchen, patting his head in that absent, parental way that made him mumble a useless protest. There was the one problem with his wish granting-
"Bee can come over if you want, but if you don't finish cleaning the garage—"
"I know, mom," Sam groaned.
"If he does come over, let me know if he wants to stay for dinner. I'm making lasagna—"
"—so we'll have plenty—"
"Mom, I don't even know if he…"
"But I'd like to know if we'll need more garlic bread because I'll have to go to the store-"
"He might not even…"
"—And I'm sure your father would like to meet him," his mom added, bustling around, putting the cereal back in the cupboard before Sam could protest that he wasn't done with it. At the point she mentioned his dad, Sam promptly gave up, quickly rinsing his bowl in the sink and making for the door before she could start with wedding plans or something. Not that it was legal in the state but Sam was sure if he showed the slightest bit of interest in shopping for engagement rings, his mom would be at the Capitol building with signs and petitions in hand.
Their discussion yesterday had not gone quite as expected.
Well, it had been less discussion and more like Sam standing there while his mom lectured him about open-mindedness…like he was the one who needed a scolding. He was the one who'd been caught making out with his…er…boyfriend? Stalker? Sam wasn't really clear on the titles just yet. Definitely a guy, though, and his mom thought he needed a speech on prejudices?
When she'd shifted to the subject of safe sex, Sam had, for the first time in his life, pleaded chores and made a break for it. Mowing the yard and raking grass had never before been such a relief. He'd managed to avoid both his parents for the rest of the day, flopping into bed after showering away a day of actual hard labor. Sam was kinda hoping his mom didn't catch on to that little ploy. If she knew that the mere mention of sex from her would be worth a day's worth of chores, he'd be on his hands and knees until he went to college.
Oh, god, not like that.
Firmly, Sam pushed all dirty thoughts out of his head and headed out to his car…where memories of the day before obligingly rolled back into his brain. With the door open, the garage was well-lit with morning sunlight, making his efforts from earlier in the week gorgeously visible. The car, which he'd hoped would be the source of his new, awesome life, was suddenly the epicenter of his newfound, completely unexpected sex life.
Sam reached out and laid a hand on the hood, stroking over the spot where he'd been leaning when Bee had first kissed him. Where they'd sprawled out for their first round of happy, dirty sex. The metal was cool, glossy against his tracing fingertips, the yellow seemed more brilliant than the morning sunshine. Hours of work polishing had been worth more than he'd expected.
"You are definitely something special," Sam murmured, resting his palm on the smooth hood. The chirp of his cell phone startled him and Sam pulled it out of his backpack, flipping it open curiously.
The text message icon was flashing cheerily with a message from…Bmbbee.
Bmbbee? Bombbee? What kind of name was that, anyway? Swedish?
There was only one sentence. Catch a ride?
For just a second, his brain, once normal and undersexed, now perverted and still wanting sex, took an entirely different meaning from that. A meaning that involved hot, slippery flesh and nakedness, maybe even on a bed for a change. Although on the hood again would be a great second option…
Oh, wait. Probably a ride to school. Forcibly, Sam wrangled his hormones down to acceptable public levels.
Sure, he texted back.
Driving to school with Bee was both better and worse than Sam had expected. The blond boy had met him at the 7-11 on the corner, greeting him with that sweet, brilliant smile and the hot cup of double-sweet coffee with french vanilla creamer, Sam's favorite. Equal parts awesome and disturbing, since the coffee reminded Sam that Bee was still firmly in the category of creepy stalker and the smile reminded him of all those things that mouth could do. A curl of heat rose up from the region of Sam's crotch and he squirmed a little, uncomfortably, sipping at the coffee too quickly and burning his tongue.
The ride itself had been sadly uneventful. On one hand, Bee had been a little better behaved than Sam had anticipated. Stayed on his own side, didn't do more than sprawl in his seat and stare at Sam with a worshipful gaze. In other words, perfectly normal. On the other hand, that meant that he didn't spend the ride to school fending off groping hands and kisses. That was probably for the best as far as his reputation went; Sam was fairly sure he didn't want to come out to both his mom and his school this week.
His dick, however, seemed to think this was the worst idea ever. Sam wasn't sure he could even drive properly if he had to spread his legs further. Dull heat was throbbing between his legs and Bee was smirking at him, like he knew.
Of course he knew. He was the stalker in this scenario.
Only, he didn't seem to be living up to the stalker creed because when they pulled into the school parking lot, Bee barely waited until the car stopped before he hopped out. Gave Sam a wink and a salute and then he was gone, disappearing into the crush of other kids dragging their asses into the school before first bell.
Sam just sat there until his dick reluctantly acknowledged that nothing good was heading its way and subsided a little. Enough for him to walk, anyway, and Sam got out, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. On his way from the parking lot, he saw Miles and gave a little wave. Miles jogged up to him, eyes narrowed with thoughtfulness that would probably shock the rest of the school. Grades aside, Miles was a hell of a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for.
"Who's your new friend?" Miles asked, curiously.
"I wish I knew," Sam muttered, trudging into the door and heading towards his locker. Trust Miles to ask the question Sam had been wondering about for three days.
After a completely mind-blowing weekend, perhaps it was fate that his life return to its previous state of brain-numbingly normal. He'd had his moment of awesome and now it was back to being another faceless, middling student amongst hundreds of others just like him. Or so Sam was coming to believe, plodding his way to his next class in the clouded fog of dullness that enveloped them all.
And what had he expected, anyway, Sam thought glumly. That his new status as Sex God to the Blond would be somehow visible, sparkling off of him like a glittery symbol of pure awesome?
Even the one guy who was in the know didn't seem much impressed. Not that Sam knew his schedule…or, well, anything about Bee other than he was A. New, B. Did Not Talk and C. Gay and/or Bisexual.
As far as information went, the puzzle Sam was putting together so far had two edges and a piece of a cloud. Not much to go on.
He wasn't even entirely sure what grade Bee was in. It waspossible he wasn't a senior; he wasn't in any of Sam's classes and there were junior exchange students…come to think of it, an age wouldn't be a bad tidbit of information to have. Just because Bee was the stalker in their relationship didn't mean Sam had to be completely in the dark.
Sam plodded along the hallway, lost in his thoughts. His next class was independent study, not exactly the greatest class to have after lunch since so far this semester Sam had an A-average in studying the insides of his eyelids. Close as he was to working out a unified nap theory, Sam suspected one of these days he might actually have to write something and he rather hoped his bullshit meter was at full-charge when it happened.
Already half-asleep, Sam didn't have time for more than a startled yelp when a hand grabbed his arm and he was yanked from a well-lit hallway into a room of much dark and loudness.
"Wha—" the hell, his mind finished for him because his mouth was suddenly busy, another mouth covering it, wet and clever. Sam opened to it helplessly, knowing without seeing who it was. What did he need to see for, who else would be feeling him up in the middle of a school day, pressing hot kisses into his mouth and then down his throat, teeth grazing sensitive flesh hard enough to bruise and Sam didn't care.
Sam was entirely too busy going from sleepy to horny in less time than it would have taken his car to hit 60 mph.
Strong hands suddenly slid down his thighs, catching him under the knees and lifting him. Sam had enough sense left to be shocked; Bee was shorter than he was and he was still carrying Sam easily, walking through the dark room like he had night vision until Sam felt a wall behind him, Bee still holding him up as he pressed up against him.
Wherever they were was steamy-warm, boiler room, maybe, and Sam did not care because Bee's hands were strong on the backs of his thighs, one hand sliding down to Sam's knee as he ground against him, oh, fuck hard, and it felt so good.
Sam made some sound, some kind of garbled groan, his hands already tight in Bee's hair as he kissed him. This, this was what he'd been waiting for all day, some anxious little thread of anticipation winding through him, ratcheting higher and higher until it brought him here. Pinned against a wall and pushing his tongue against Bee's, almost clumsy in his eagerness because this he wanted. So much. Fuck normalcy, fuck stalking, to hell with everything else because all he wanted was for Bee to never stop.
Not that Bee was acting like stopping was an option. He never hesitated, his mouth on Sam's greedy and eager, catching his bottom lip and sucking until Sam shuddered, tongue curling against Bee's. One hand slid between them, fumbling, and Sam exhaled in relief as his pants loosened, Bee tugging them out of the way until his cock was bare in the smoggy, humid air around them. For one moment he felt naked, exposed, and then Bee was crowding into him again, the hot slide of his own cock against Sam's dragging another startled gasp free.
A firm hand was abruptly over his mouth, muffling any sound.
"Shhh," Damp against his ear, more breath than voice. Through the ticking and hissing from the pipes, Sam suddenly realized he could hear movement that wasn't theirs. Oh, fuck, the janitor. It should have paralyzed any lust in him, should have frozen his blood, Jesus, getting caught by his mom was one thing but…
Except Bee hadn't stopped. Kept his hand over Sam's mouth and he was moving, sliding their hips together, his other hand still firm on Sam's thigh, holding him up. Holding him still for Bee to ride against, pushing against him with a rhythmic roll of his hips and body. Helplessly, Sam clutched at his shoulders, hands scrambling at his back and he could feel warm strain of the muscles there, bunching as they tightened and released, Bee rocking them together.
The hand on his thigh tightened, tugging, and after a moment of bleary confusion Sam managed to lift his legs, wrapping them around Bee's waist and hooking his ankles together, and oh, fuck, that was perfect. Just enough much-needed leverage for him to arch into every slide of Bee's hips against his own, the perfect friction of his erection against Bee's. Their bellies were slickening with equal parts sweat and need, Bee dragging his tongue across Sam's ear, the edge of his teeth worrying the soft lobe just to the edge of pain. His gasp against Bee's palm seemed loud even in the noisy machinery surrounding them.
Somewhere in this dark room, the normal world was ticking on without them, people outside still walking through the hallways, moving through their routines as they waited for the bell that would set them free. It was fading into the background, Sam's breathing locomotive-fast against Bee's palm, and he opened his eyes as Bee pulled back, just a little, met avid green eyes with his own, their gazes locked as Bee watched him. Even as Sam had to close his eyes, biting his tongue to stifle a cry that even Bee's hand wouldn't have blocked. Even as he shook, his heartbeat thrumming hard in his ears, his hips slamming into Bee's as he tightened his legs and jerked Bee against him. Even as he came, the light behind his eyes going warm and golden and he choked off moans, felt the warm spurts between them, slick and hot.
Even then, he felt Bee watching him.
Sam sagged against the wall, panting as best he could through the hand over his mouth, hot breath, and then softest sound against his ear, barely louder than a moan, Bee trembling against him as Sam stroked the sweaty mass of his hair, his back, anything he could reach.
He let Bee slump against him until his legs began to tingle uncomfortably. With a wince, Sam dragged his legs down the back of Bee's thighs, slowly, searching for the ground with his toes. Bee's head snapped up, green eyes boring into his fiercely, his grip suddenly painfully tight. Sam swallowed, hard. Jesus, what was he getting into here?
Then Bee blinked a little, his face easing into that sweet smile and finally, he uncovered Sam's mouth, only to press their lips together again in a gentle kiss, his tongue cautious until Sam responded, sighing into the warm sweetness of it.
Really, it was just like Sam had always suspected; normalcy was way overrated.
The rest of the day passed in an unfamiliar fog, no longer the bored student and more like a…what? Bemused, love-struck idiot, probably. Sam wasn't sure what, if anything, anyone else noticed, and he was pretty sure he didn't care.
After Bee sneaked them both out of the boiler room without mishap, Sam had stumbled off to his next class, his head happily wrapped in clouds that no one else could see. The fog didn't lift until after last bell and Sam was wandering out to his car, his eyes scanning the parking lot for a growingly familiar blond head. He didn't have to look far; Bee was leaning against the hood of his car, one foot on the bumper as he sprawled back on it.
A little bemused, Sam decided Bee looked good on yellow.
Sam stopped in front of him, a little awkwardly. "Need a lift home?"
To his surprise, his phone chirped, and Sam fumbled for it with an apologetic smile. Only to have it fall away at the message.
No, I have a ride.
Sam blinked at the message, then at Bee, who was only smiling innocently at him. "How did you—" Sam blurted, only to be cut off by the loud beep of a horn.
For once, he wasn't the only one staring, a small crowd of students gawking curiously at the ambulance in their parking lot. The front door opened and a man in full paramedic gear hopping out, scowling as he strode right up to Sam and Bee. Dark hair and startlingly blue eyes in a craggy face that made Sam think a little of Harrison Ford.
"All right, I'm here," he said gruffly, "Now get in."
Adding in to the weirdness, Bee stomped up to the old guy, gesturing angrily. Whatever he was saying, the guy didn't seem impressed, only crossed his arms over his chest and glared right back.
"Because Optimus wouldn't let me scan a hearse, that's why!" the man snapped, blue eyes glaring into green.
Sam only stood, along with the most of the driving senior class of his school, staring at the surrealness of this one-sided conversion. He supposed he'd have to get used to it until he'd picked up a little more sign language, and that was something else his mom had had a few things to say about. At least on that subject she seemed to be right; Sam was burning with curiosity.
In the end, Bee seemed to give up, scrubbed both hands over his face and it was somehow charming to see him actually embarrassed for once. He made another sign, this one weak and visibly desperate.
"Oh, right," the man grunted. "You're Witwicky, eh?" He gave Sam a once-over that made him resist the urge to squirm. "Not bad, I guess. A little on the short side."
Um, what? Sam decided if Bee could glare at this guy, it was fair game. "If you'd rather he hang out with Sasquatch, send him out to the football field and he can take his pick. He'll have to learn how to communicate in grunts though; I don't think any of them can read."
For just a second, the scowl between them heated to volcanic proportions, then the man grinned suddenly. "He'll do. I'm Ratchet, by the way. Bee is staying with me for right now. Host parent, or whatever the hell you people call it."
"Ratchet?" Sam repeated blankly.
"Is that a problem?" Ratchet said politely, his expression stating clearly that there'd better not be.
"No, no, it's just…different."
"Oh, and Witwicky is just a bastion of normalcy," Ratchet rolled his eyes, then snapped his fingers at Bumblebee. "Get in, kid, we've got places to be."
Bee sighed, a gust of breath, and this time he went, hesitating in front of Sam. Like he knew kissing right now wasn't the greatest idea but the temptation was still there. Suddenly, Sam wanted that more than he'd thought possible and he was entirely too close to just tossing out a mental fuck it and seeing how Bee tasted when he was surrounded by gaping high schoolers.
"I'm supposed to invite you both to dinner," Sam blurted out desperately, going with the lesser of two stupids.
Bee gave him a bright smile but Ratchet's expression shifted to one of horror. "No, no, absolutely not, Bumblebee, I said I would put in an appearance, not—"
Ratchet trailed off as Bee turned a pleading look his way, "Bee, I—"
Sam just watched, bemused, as Ratchet blew out a sharp breath. Nice to know he wasn't the only sucker where Bee…Bumblebee?...was concerned.
"Fine," he grumbled. "I'll go make nice with the rabble. Now, if you please…?" He gestured exaggeratedly at the ambulance and Bee went, giving Sam a last sweet smile over his shoulder before he climbed in.
Standing on the sidewalk, Sam watched them go, only barely noticing the stares of his classmates. Then he exhaled, shakily. Normalcy was still overrated but now that the weird family was starting to join in…
His phone beeped again, another text message popping up, from Bmbbee. He'll make as nice as he ever does, I promise. See you tonight!
Bumblebee. Well, that did make more sense than Bombbee, anyway.
With a shake of his head, Sam climbed into the car and started it up, heading straight for home as per directed by his mother, since he now had to tell her they'd be needing more garlic bread.
Somehow, he didn't think dinner with his boyfriend/stalker, his host parent, and his parents was going to be any definition of the word normal. Freaky, maybe, awkward, certainly. Normal? Not a chance.
Maybe that only made how Sam was looking forward to it that much worse.
Whistling a little, Sam startled as the radio flipped on, Jason Mraz flaring out. With a mental shrug, Sam sang along, not quite speeding, as the singer crooned about his right to be loved.
Hey, it could happen.