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Beauty Within	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 4014 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
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What Can’t be Changed

Slowly, Bumblebee reactivated each of his systems. Testing them and bringing them back online. But he had a second set of systems to reboot, so his reactivation slowed to a crawl as he automatically proceeded with the same processes twice over for each system.

“Bout time you woke back up Cutie!” CoLene’s familiar voice exclaimed. The light blue femme patted his back gently as she knelt beside him.

Activating his optics, he looked up into the bright optics of the blue femme. She stood up over him, offering her hand. A smile spread from audio-to-audio on her beautiful face as Bee grabbed her hand and pulled himself to his feet.

“So how’d it go back at the con ship?” he asked. He’d been worried about the three dancers, for even though they were used to bonding with the Decepticons as ‘clients’ – doing it as decoys was a whole different ballgame.

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him like a sister would. “Now, don’t fret about us youngster. We dancers know how to handle cons. Don’t we girls?”

The other two ‘decoys’ snickered. B’dek whispered something to RiTank concerning certain male’s lack of stamina. This caused Droct and Bee to both blush a little bit. It was hard to get used to the prostitutes’ callousness concerning bonding, no matter how long a mech hung around them.

“By the way, they told us that you’re a bot. And, um, we kind’ve borrowed something of LongHaul’s.” B’dec grinned at him as she lifted the gun she was holding. Her mischievous optics told him that she’d more than merely ‘borrowed’ the gun.

Bumblebee’s mouth fell open in shock, but before he could say anything, he was roughly slapped on the back. Turning his head, he found himself looking into the pink dancer’s optics. She was holding another gun, a slag-eating smile on her face. “Yep, mech didn’t have anything to pay us with, so we took what we decided our services were worth,” she snickered, a devious smile on her face. “I know a little about weapons, but you Autobots know a lot more. So you gonna teach us?” She used her most seductive tone on that last part.

Completely stunned at the ingenuity and bravery of the dancers, all Bumblebee could do was nod. This caused all the dancers to whoop in glee. For this would definitely be something fun to learn!

Bumblebee looked over at Droct, hopeful that his bond mate would glance his way. But the mech was busy talking quietly about something with Z’ren. His shoulders drooping, Bumblebee turned his attention back to Cliffjumper. He could feel the mech starting the full reactivation sequence through their integration. A hand touched his shoulder, causing him to look up into T’ran’s optics.

“Don’t allow him to move Bee. He may panic, and if any of these cables gets yanked, it will cause massive physical trauma to his processors.” The serious look in her optics reminded Bee of how he had panicked on several occasions.

Sinking his spark back through their integration, Bumblebee flowed into Cliffjumper’s processors. One by one, he shut off the motor systems and put a lock code on them. Coming back into himself, he looked down at his friend’s brightening optics. Relief flooded through him as he saw Cliffjumper begin to scan the room, and then settled his optics onto Bumblebee.

Leaning over the Autobot, he gently rubbed the side of his helm which had the feeding tube duct taped to it. “Hey Cliff, been a long time,” Bee said gently. He let his spark match his smile, since he knew Cliffjumper could feel him pulsating within him.

Because of the tube down his throat, Cliffjumper couldn’t activate his voice synthesizer. He stared up at the yellow mech, thinking that he must be off lined or something. For how else could he be seeing and hearing a mech that had been deactivated for cycles? But the discomfort of his unprotected circuitry against the hard stone that he lay upon, made him realize that he couldn’t be off lined. But then why couldn’t he move? Why in the slogger’s name did he have a damned tube down his throat?!

Deciding that he must, in fact, still be functioning. Cliffjumper scanned around him. He was in some underground facility, and it was beyond primitive. There wasn’t even any lighting, so he had to see everything in the infrared spectrum. There were six femmes standing around him, one of them was holding a monitor that felt like it was connected directly to his meta. He shuddered at the thought. For a mech’s meta was their life! Did this mean he’d almost been off lined? Had the freagin’ Decepticreeps almost killed him with the gangbang?

His spark wavered when that fleeting thought went through his meta. The fiery sparks invading one after the other.. Tearing his very spark apart piece by piece.. Taking what little remained of his dignity.. Those howls of laughter as they had finally made him scream, made him beg for them to stop.. They’d won, they’d finally broke him..
The shame washed through him as he realized he’d given the cons what they wanted.

If his motor systems hadn’t been deactivated and locked, he would’ve panicked as he fell into his memories. For he felt hands over his naked circuitry. Many hands! He rolled his head side to side in black terror. But then a blue spark washed over him, caressing him, holding him, protecting his shattered spark from any intruders. Coming back into reality, he looked up into his old friend’s optics, saw the understanding within them. He knew then that it was Bumblebee that was bonded tightly with him. Yes; Sweet, gentle Bumblebee; who’d rather hang out at the base than fight; but who’d never leave his buddy’s side in a fight.

“Shhhh, Cliffjumper, these are my friends. We’re just putting you back together,” the yellow mech said gently. “You’re safe now. The Decepticons can’t find us here.”

The red mech stared up at his friend. He had so many questions that he wanted to ask. But he couldn’t until they took this freagin’ tube out of his throat. And just why in Vector Sigma couldn’t he move!?!

“I turned off your motor processors, Cliff. We can’t chance you moving, since there are direct connections to both of your processors right now,” Bee explained. He seemed to know what was going through Cliffjumper’s meta.

Standing on the other side of the red mech’s head, T’ran looked down at her monitor. Tapping in a code, she frowned at the read out. “He’s still thirty percent fragged, you’ll need to stay integrated through one more defrag cycle. Think you can do it?” she asked Bee.

Both Bee and Cliffjumper turned their optics to her in perfect synch. The red mech’s optics had that same haunted look that Bee had had when they had first found him. T’ran found herself compelled to feel true pity for the red Autobot, for no mech deserved what he and Bee had gone through.

“Yes, I can stay linked for another day cycle,” Bee said softly. His optics noticed that T’ran was very close to system exhaustion. “I can monitor him, while you guys get some rest.”

T’ran smiled at him, “Thanks Bee, I’m pretty damned fragged.” Handing the monitor to him, she went and grabbed an energon cube from the stack on the far wall.

A few of the other femmes all agreed. But they patted Cliffjumper gently, wanting him to feel welcomed.

CoLene leaned over the half-naked mech and tapped him gently on his nose. “Now, you get your rest cutie. Cause you got a lot of femmes that want to talk with you.” She winked and smiled warmly at the mech. The gray central part of her helm set off the deep blue of her optics.

Looking into her beautiful face, Cliffjumper wondered just where in the hell Bumblebee of all mechs, had found all these gorgeous femmes. He couldn’t believe that he had six of them surrounding him. His engine increased it’s rpms a little, when he realized that he was lying here half-naked in front of these femmes. Not that he was shy or anything, but small mechs like him, generally didn’t attract the good looking femmes. But then, how in Primus’ name had Bumblebee done it?

“Let’s get this second monitor out of him before we go crash. I think the meta monitor will be enough, um, don’t you think T’ran?” Droct asked. He avoided looking directly at Bumblebee as he glanced questioningly at T’ran.

“True, Bumblebee can keep tabs on that one through his integration,” T’ran agreed. Nodding toward S’taq and Z’ren, she silently asked them to fold Cliffjumper in position for the removal of the monitor connection.

As the two gorgeous femmes grabbed his legs and bent them to his chest, Cliffjumper looked up at Bumblebee in total confusion. Then he felt hands probing into his aft. Looking down, his optics widened in terror as the most hideous mech he’d ever seen, was thrusting his hands into him. A blaze of fear rolled through him.. He was going to be raped again! The hands were deep within him, touching his very processor! His spark jumped in sheer terror, wanting to stop the hideous mech, deny that he was within him..

“Shhh Cliffjumper, he’s not hurting you. He’s just disconnecting the cable,” T’ran’s voice said. Cliffjumper felt her fingers rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

“He’s our main medic here, Cliff. He won’t hurt you,” Bumblebee added. He was glad that T’ran had told him to shut off Cliffjumper’s motor controls. She’d been very right with her prediction that the red mech might freak.

Hearing their words, Cliffjumper wasn’t exactly convinced. If this mech was a medic, then why in the heck did he look like a bunch of mismatched parts?!? He was hideous! And he had his hands….. Cliffjumper’s core filled with utter disgust. For he couldn’t believe that this ghastly wreck was accessing his most sensitive regions! Waves of revulsion washed through him.

“Here we go,” Droct finally unplugged the cable from the battle processor’s port. Slowly, he began to carefully pull his hands out from Cliffjumper’s abdomen. “Sorry it took so long,” he said to the red mech. Nodding to the femmes to put Cliffjumper’s legs back down, he patted the mech’s leg.

Coming up to Cliffjumper’s head, Droct forced him to face straight up. The red mech felt his core squirming with nausea as the ghastly mech probed deep inside his mouth with a finger. He tried to look at one of the femmes, pretend that it was one of them doing this. Not this hideous piece of slag.. Finally, the ugly ‘medic’ removed his finger and let him settle his head into a more natural position.

“I’ll give him a little more energon,” Droct said to the group. “You femmes go on and get some sleep; I’ll get some in a bit.” He walked over to the stack of cubes.

As the femmes filed out of the room, Droct glanced up at Bee. The yellow mech was gently petting the side of his friend’s helm, warm concern in his blue optics. That expression made Droct’s spark want to jump out of his chest, for that was the mech he’d fallen in love with. The one that’d do anything for a friend, take any chance. But, Bee was an Autobot. And even though Droct had told the dancers that he could forgive him for that – could he really? Could he ever – kiss – an Autobot?

His optics fell onto the half-naked Autobot lying on the stone slab table. The Autobot was just a naked mech like him under all that beautifully maintained armor – wasn’t he? Wasn’t Bee the same as well? They all felt the same pain, felt the same passion, felt the same love – didn’t they?

The dancers were right. Bee couldn’t change what he was, anymore than Droct could change what had happened those eons ago. They couldn’t change their pasts. The paths that their lives had taken prior to the convergence of the paths into this singular one… They were both products of their histories, tempered in both pain and war. But despite that, they had found each other. And Droct couldn’t change the fact that they had fallen in love with each other.

Behind his mask, Droct’s lower lip trembled. He knew Bee still wanted to be with him. That’s why he’d lied in the first place. But could he actually kiss Bee again? Kiss an Autobot? Fighting down his anxiety, Droct knew he’d have to find out. For both himself and Bee! And with the femmes having all left to find cubbies to curl up in, his chance was now.

He had to find out… find out if he could actually kiss an Autobot.

Picking up an energon cube, he slowly walked towards the two Autobots. His footsteps made the soft tap of metal hitting stone. With every step, he fought the nervous rising in his core….
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Beauty Within