:: Wind never blows in the heart
|Pairing : Bumblebee x F! Reader (human) ||Rating : N/A |||Going on a road trip with your favourite alien car turns out to be a small romantic moment.
|Warnings : N/A ||Sinop. ::
Let’s go out and play before the rain starts. Who’s last to the hill is made out of pudding!
It was a warm, sunny midday of July. The air in the city was thick with heat and a pungent smell of rain that didn’t yet come. Actually, you did not remember the last time it rained in the city. The heatwave was too great for anyone to stand it and even clouds got scarcer and scarcer; rain was a far off dream, not even mentioning a summer storm till maybe next decade. It was ridiculous really. Summers hadn’t used to be this hot when you were younger.
The one that felt the sun’s unforgiving rays more than anyone was your car – or what your parents thought was a car that they bought and gave you for your graduation. You were happy, even if it was a little beat down. You repaired it and just as you were about to do an oil change... let’s say you got the scare of your life thinking a robot was going to maim you for touching his windshield wrong. But Bumblebee – as you learned his name later – loved humans. He was just in deep stasis and got a bit freaked out that there was a human under his altform when he was dreaming of kicking Megatron’s butt, whomever that was.
He was no ordinary car or robot that was for sure. He told you.... played the radio in him with different snippets of movies, songs, even memes to tell you his story. And what a story it was!
Now, that same alien postbellum transformer was melting in the summer heat, buzzing about how his paintjob will melt off. And he loves those chique black stripes, damn it!. He returned to his classic job after you tried to prank him and had him have a reverse color job when he was in stasis one night. He laughed it off for a week or two, but he loved his usual look more. “I’m melting... I’m melting...!” His radiators were working overtime, and even his cassettes were going to unroll. And he has the Smiths on there! “Are you sure you can’t turn down the heat a little bit, toots?” You shook your head and went inside to take some ice packs for him.
Your friendship with Bumblebee was something out of those stupid budget comedy movies that somehow get a sequel or two because people liked it so much, regardless of how bad or corny the situations and jokes were. You eventually found some frozen peas sacks that you swore you had in your cooler for at least 5 years when your mother bulk bought them because ‘they were a great deal’. They were not, because you got sick of eating peas with chicken legs half through the first month. At least they now served a better purpose of cooling off your friend. “Any more whining and I’d think one of your breaking shifs was broken or something.”
“Awe, toots! You’re hurting my feelings over here!” The radio cooed with some jazz music in the background of the character talking. He let out a slight whirl of joy when he felt the cool, icy packs hit his mainframe.
“Feeling better, Bee?” He nodded and buzzed about something-something too hot outside; something-something he missed frozen energon treats. Energon... You remembered what it was.
Since the was against the Quintessons was won and people slowly started to accept Autobots back, some went back in the military life, some were now trying to unite humans and Cybertronians into one – come on, Optimus... quit it – and some where domestic, like Bumblebee. Energon became a bit more accessible for people in case they had domestic type transformers, but most used it to tune their cars – idiots. Absolute idiots. But you couldn’t blame them in a way. Energon was addicting in that way.
It’s been a few good weeks since you promised him some fresh energon and not just flimsy motor oil... you always felt guilty when you’d run past a gas station and not remember bringing him a cube or two. Even if he was tempted when you were riding in him to just swerve to the closest energon source and urge you to get some, he never did so. Bumblebee was considered a childish idiot by his former peers, but you? You saw someone that respected boundries and had many years of experience in war, not some childish scout. Maybe that’s why you two get along so well.
“How about a road trip, Bee? I know a nice and cool place near some meadows. But-” They are a bit far, you wanted to say, yet the yellow aliens jumpy persona, loudly playing music and sing along “I’m so excited-!” interrupted you. It seemed even if needing to drive for an hour or two for some cool air was, Bee was all in with your plan.
And so it was set, the two of you would go and have a road trip to some nice cool place for a day. A change in scenery wasn’t bad from time to time, and you much needed some time off from the hustle and bustle of the city. You went inside quickly to grab only a couple things for the hours or so you’d spend on the road: just some water, your chargers and of course, for your precious yellow boy, a fresh can of Energon you picked up on your way home one night from a corner store without telling him. __________________
The road was bumpy, the gravel was much more tougher than you remembered. At least, Bumblebee didn’t mind a bit of tire roughening, like Mirage – a friend of his – always did. The radio turned on and shifter through the channels in a very familiar way “Wanna make a pit stop toots” You agreed and he suddenly turned the wheel right. Until now, you were very much in control of driving, but you often had to remind yoruself he could easily “snatch the wheele” from you and drive you into a tree if he wanted to. Of course he didn’t want to drive you into a tree, that would be a bit ridiculous, counterproductive, and he’d get himself hurt for nothing – but you get the idea.
He drove out the main road into a small clearing surounded by scarce trees and many short bushes. You tried to unclasp your seatbelt, but couldn’t; was he propose fully trying to keep you in place... “Not so fast, toots. We have business to talk-” And then it cut to a soft romantic song. Bumblebee was always the cupidon of his old team – he often recalled – and now he was trying to slip into his old habits for some unknown reason. We have business to talk, from an action movie, sounding so intimidating was funny in this circumstance, but at least you knew to pay close attention to what he wanted to say-
He suddenly turned the volume on even louder “CUZ YOU’RE AMAZING, JUST THE WAY YOU ARE-!” You laughed and lightly slapped the leather on the wheel a couple of times trying to make him tune it down a couple notches. As much as you appreciated it, you loved your ears very much still and didn’t want to go deaf at the silly confession. “Bee, wait it! I get it-” You snorted and tried to open the windows. Thankfully he stopped, dimming the music and trying to talk again “Well, this went better than expected”
He gently released the seat belt and let you go giving you that one signal to get out before you end up blocked in his chest like Gregory did in Freddie. Once out, the clean and warm air hit you like a pillow propelled at your face during a pijama party in middle school. You smiled to yourself, listening to both the wind whirling and the mechanical sounds behind you. Then a big servo pressed to your back so softly, afraid it might break you.
“You really had to blast Bruno Mars into me until I’d say it back, no?” “You still didn’t say it, toots.”
And he was right. You were still keeping this handsome gentlebot waiting for your response; but between us, Bumblebee would wait a peta-cycle and more for you. He would wait for you even if the universe would already be dying. You sighed and patted one of his digits “Bad timing to tell you I brought a can of Energon with us?” He still didn’t moved and waited. This was unexpected, as the yellow Autobot often dropped everything for a full can and concentrate only on it for an hour or two. But now... now he was all optics and neurochips on you. Only on you. You mattered now, nothing else. “Yes, Bee- I thought it was obvious when I would literally-”
Nope. Not a chance finishing that sentence because you were scooped up in the air and brought closer to his faceplate. A small kissy sound from the radio played as he pressed the covering of his intake to the top of your head. It was sweet, so sweet that he was trying to show his affection regardless of how small you were compared to him... and a human at that. No one would even dare to look at his little lady, or else-!
.
.
.
“Bee, quit it-!”
That night, when you were sleeping you made the mistake of leaving your courtains open and he kept looking at you, his optics casting a bright blue light in your room, over you, in your fucking sleep.
“Can’t help it, toots. I love ya!”
