Dirt and Blushes.
Summary: When Sam gets soaked and muddy, his wash at the Autobot Base is quite different from what he was expecting.
Rating: M for safety.
Continuity: Movieverse.
Disclaimer: Transformers and all associated canon characters belong to Dreamworks/Paramount and Hasbro, not me.
Dirt and Blushes.
A/N: This story contains slash. If you don't like it, don't read it. Requestfic for MoniHoag.
Sam and Mikaela were a few metres from the Autobot base, just walking and talking to each other about the stuff they couldn't talk about with anyone else. Well, technically they could talk to someone else, but if found out they faced a stiff jail sentence, in the interests of National Security, so they just talked to each other in general.
Sam and Mikaela had gone though a lot of trauma and stress in the weeks following Mission City, and in fact their relationship had come to an end a couple of weeks afterwards, when after a long talk and an agreement not to let things get nasty, Sam had admitted to wanting a relationship with Bumblebee that went beyond the boundaries of just guardian and ward. He had expected disgust, maybe even accusations of perversion, but then Mikaela had shocked him by informing him that she and a mech she knew were feeling the same, and that now her working relationship with Ratchet could now venture far beyond the platonic.
Once they had agreed to be just friends, they found they got on far better than as partners. They were in the middle of discussing the disturbing news that more Decepticon landings had been detected when a roar of engines announced they were no longer alone.
"Hey, baby, I hear you're free again now," Trent said as he leaned out of the window of his flashy SUV. He slid a muscular arm out of the window nonchalantly as he smiled insincerely at Mikaela, and then twisted his head slightly to direct a sneer at Sam before looking back at Mikaela. "Want a lift? Hop in the back." He spat in Sam's direction. "Loser-boy's not invited."
Mikaela turned towards Trent with a look on her face not dissimilar to Trent's, but more disdainful.
"Forget it, Trent, it's over between us. Sam and I may not be together any more but I have - someone else - in mind, and it's not you."
"Anyone I know? I know a lot about some people in school, and some out. Who is it? Peter? Peter's a liar, he'll promise you anything if he thinks he'll get something he wants by lying."
"No, it's not Peter, it's nobody you know," she said, taking Sam by the arm. "Come on, Sam, we should get back."
"At least give me his name, Mikaela, I know a lot of people, I may know something you need to know about him," Trent said.
"Yeah, well Ratch isn't one of them," said Mikaela.
"Ratch?" echoed Trent. "Yeah, I know Ratch, he, um-"
"You don't know him, I should know," Mikaela said sharply, cutting Trent off as he pulled Sam behind her, pointedly walking away. "Goodbye, Trent."
Trent didn't say anything, but Mikaela's cool rebuke had bruised his ego. As he watched Mikaela walk away he revved his engine and jerked up a gear. It was wet, it had recently rained, and he saw that Mikaela was about to walk past a large, muddy puddle, Grinning, he aimed for it, determined to teach that stuck-up little tease a lesson. After all, SUV's were designed for dirty, tough and wet terrain.
Sam, glancing back over his shoulder, saw him coming, He grabbed Mikaela and twisted, interposing himself between her and the wave of water Trent's vehicle wheels threw up.
Mikaela didn't get away with it entirely, some of the wet hit her legs and one arm and she flinched back, hearing Trent's sarcastic laughter as he angled off towards the main road. As she turned towards Sam, she saw that she had not got so wet as he had, for Sam's body had shielded her own. Sam's clothes and skin were dripping with dirty, gritty water.
"Oh, Sam," she said, trying to keep from laughing, for although the sight of Sam made her want to giggle, she was aware that it was his actions that had stopped it being her, not him, in that predicament, and to laugh would seem ungrateful. "Ignore him," she advised. "Let's get you in to get washed and dry, Ratchet'll have washing facilities."
"Y-yeah," he said, shivering, absolutely soaked, as he moved feeling dirt and grit against his skin in a dozen sensitive places it had no business being in. He glared after the disappearing vehicle angrily as they headed for the main gate. "Well, I hope I've not seen the last of that vehicle, I plan to introduce its fuel tank to a handful of grit and half a pound of sugar!"
Mikaela and Sam headed back to the base, Sam's soggy sneakers announcing their approach with a series of squelching sounds. As it was more winter than fall now, Sam was shivering by the time Ironhide verified their identity and opened the gates for them.
"What's happened to yeh, Sam?" he asked.
"Some underevolved gorilla decided to play with mud," Mikaela said. "Sam got the worst of it. Come on, Sam, maybe we can coax Ratchet to let you use the alt-wash showers for once, you're certainly wearing enough mud for a small car."
"Minus the spinning brushes, I hope!" Sam said.
"Why not with them?" Ironhide asked curiously. "They certainly give yeh a good cleanin' an' the last ones are nice an' soft to the touch."
"Maybe that's the case for you, but some of them could make sushi of my skin." Sam replied. "I assume you're called "Ironhide" because the name's somewhat descriptive?"
"Well, yeah, but the others use the brushes too, and they're not as tough-armoured as I. Bumblebee and Optimus use it, yeh know."
"The day I have quarter-inch metal skin is the day I'll ask for the brushes, okay?" Sam asked, seeing himself becoming the butt of Autobot jokes for days to come. "While my skin is thin, fragile human skin, I'll skip them, thanks
Mikaela laughed. "The shower and brushes can be turned on and off independently of each other, so don't worry, we won't wash you exactly the same as a car."
"Good," Sam said, walking into the foyer of the Base building. Once inside, he walked a few more steps before he stopped and sat down.
"Sam?" Mikaela stopped walking too, looking down at him in puzzlement and concern.
"I don't want everyone to hear me approaching due to the squelch-squelch-squelch of my sneakers," he said as he pulled the offending footwear, and then the socks too, wiggling his wet, dirty toes a couple of times before getting back to his feet and picking up the soggy items. Sam noticed he was still leaving muddy footprints behind him, but at that point, he didn't care much.
A few minutes later, they walked into the medbay.
"Hey, Ratchet, Sam got soaked and dirty. Is anyone using the alt-wash? It's pipes are less likely to get blocked than those rubbish human showers. Honestly, where did the military scavenge those? Noah's Ark?"
"The Ark?" Ratchet said, sticking his head around a nearby partition. "The washing facilities are quite adequate, and as far as I am aware, the Earth Military have not requisitioned any of them." He looked puzzled, and Mikaela realised that, as sometimes happened with the Autobots, Ratchet and her were probably talking about totally different things. "And who is Noah?" he asked a second later.
"Never mind, Ratchet, I'm not being serious about their origin, but those things are ooold!" she explained, deciding she'd better introduce Ratchet to human Bible stories, there were enough remarks based on them, from "old enough to have come off the Ark", through "feeding the Five Thousand", "Don't know him from Adam", and many more that might cause puzzlement later on.
"Well, to answer your question, Mikaela, the alt-wash is free, and we don't want the pipes blocked again, so that's okay. Hold on while I lower the water temperature, human skin's too sensitive to be washed at too high a heat." Ratchet made the adjustments, then pointed to a small cubicle.
"Change in there, just leave the clothes on the floor, they can be picked up a bit later. I've called Bumblebee, he'll be bringing some towels and washing implements suitable for a human." He looked at Mikaela. "Could you clear up the mud on the floor before someone slips in it, go and fetch fresh garments from Sam's room, and pick up a plastic laundry bag for his dirty stuff?"
"Certainly, sir!" she said cheerfully, throwing him a jaunty salute and a saucy wink before heading out to get the required items. Once sure that she was gone, Sam carefully peeled off his grotty things, piling them atop each other in a corner of the cubicle. He shivered. Although the med bay temperature was warmer than that outside, he still felt chilled by the muddy film that coated his skin.
Suddenly a hand gripped the top of the cubicle and then Bumblebee's face peered in through the top. Sam's hands moved to cover his private parts as he said "Hey! Don't do that Bee! I'm not decent!"
"Decent? I don't know what you mean, Sam," the scout said in confusion, and Sam realised that Bee was probably ignorant of the finer aspects of the human nudity taboo. "Come on, Sam, I have your items, I'll take you to have your wash." Before Sam could explain or object, Bumblebee had reached in and gently curled a hand around him, plucking him from the cubicle and holding him at chest level.
From that level, he had a grandstand view of the medbay and he flushed as he realised that both Ratchet and Optimus Prime - who appeared to be consulting Ratchet about an injury on his arm - were watching.
"Oh, god, Bee, no, I mean, everybody's looking at me," he said. "Look, Ratchet said you were bringing towels, gimmie a towel at least, come on, Bee!" Sam gabbled.
Bumblebee just looked even more puzzled.
"Sam, the towels are for when you've washed. Use them now and you'll get them filthy!" He strode across the medbay, having to sidestep briefly to avoid colliding with Ironhide who was just coming in.
"Hi again, Bee, I thought I'd better get that eye an' foot of mine sorted before Ratchet lectures me about it again." Then he spotted the wriggling Sam held in Bumblebee's hand.
"Hi there again Sam." He peered at Sam for a moment before saying "Hah, so ya are pretty much the same colour all over then, though ye can barely see it through that dirt. Enjoy yer wash." He peered again at him. "Hey, yer face is getting 'darker. Why's that?"
To Sam's horror he realised he was blushing, something that was only drawing more attention to him. He saw movement from out of the corner of his eye and when he turned to look he saw Optimus and Ratchet heading in their direction. He turned back to Ironhide.
"Ask Ratchet to look up blushing in humans?" He turned back to look at Bumblebee.
"Please can I go and have my wash? Like right now?"
"Okay," Bumblebee said, puzzled, but as asked he took Sam into the alt-wash, and put him down. On the floor of the wash were several sizes of sponges, shampoo and soap. Sam sighed and stooped to pick the stuff up. Finally he could get clean, and in privacy. "Wait there, Sam, I'll turn on the water and be right back," Bumblebee said.
"Back?" Sam squeaked. "What do you mean, back?"
"To help you wash," Bumblebee called back. The water started up, and began cleaning some of the dirt off his skin. Sam sighed slightly, and looked up through the rising steamy clouds to see Bumblebee peering in at him.
"You've helped wash me so many times, I thought it was time to, as you humans say, "repay the favour" and help wash you." He moved in, picking up a sponge, and then appeared to notice Sam' hesitation. He cocked his head inquisitively, and peered anxiously at Sam.
"That is alright, isn't it?"