Title: Road Trip

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Transformers and all related characters therein do not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Use of holoforms and holo-play.

"The earth does not need new continents. It needs new men." –Jules Verne, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

On their first road trip together, Sam discovered that Optimus liked audio books almost as much as Sam didn't like them. He had bought the first few as a gift, on a relatively rare excursion into town. Mikaela and Sarah had cajoled him in stopping by the bookstore with them, and, remembering that Optimus used to be some sort of librarian before he became Prime, Sam had bought him a few classics on tape and actually kind of forgot about them after that.

It wasn't until their ragtag group—or rather, Will, who was 'goddamn tired of all these godforsaken deserts'—decided that a vacation to Niagara Falls was in order, and Sam found out that Optimus had downloaded an unfathomable collection of books. He had everything, from children's books to literary classics to modern genre. He had even developed the habit of conversing in novel excerpts the way Bumblebee used the radio, but Sam strongly suspected that was borne more out of a desire to just irritate him, as he pretty much stopped it the moment Sam threatened him with no sex for a month, though Optimus had gotten in the last word with Herman Melville: "Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee!"

On one of their stops in Kansas, Sam had gone into a Barnes and Noble and, as revenge, bought the Twilight audio books and shoved them into Optimus's tape deck. Optimus had gotten him back by actually playing them.

It wasn't that Sam hated reading. He had a few books of his own, took the time to read them, and enjoyed them. But he had a hard enough time staying awake on road trips as it was, and listening to a smooth, low voice read The Iliad for hours on end? Sometimes a person just needs a little Beyonce to break up the monotony.

Somewhere in Kentucky, they made it into a game. Optimus would play a series of book excerpts and Sam had to guess the title. For every one he got wrong, or didn't know, Optimus would get to lean over in his holoform and steal a kiss. After one particular streak of bad luck, Sam, breathless and a little bruised, asked why Optimus chose that prize. Optimus only shrugged and justified it with Gone With the Wind: "You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how." Sam might have lost on purpose a few times after that, even without Optimus choosing the most obscure passages he could find, though he did relish the rare victory when he could blow up Optimus's stereo system with Bon Jovi and Vanilla Ice.

Shortly after crossing the New York state line, they stopped on the edge of a small, middle-of-nowhere town that Sam suspected didn't even have a name. But, it had a grocery store, and a gas station with pretty clean restrooms, and so that was good enough. There might have been a kitschy roadside hotel, but none of the humans on the trip bothered to look. Like Sam, the others felt weird about sleeping comfortably in a bed while the Autobots were forced to wait outside and, for the most part, everyone had gotten used to sleeping in back seats. "It makes for a real authentic college road trip," Will said. Epps punched him, loudly longing for a Hilton, but nevertheless calling dibs on Ratchet's spacious interior. Mikaela had Bumblebee, Will and Sarah with Ironhide, Maggie and Annabelle with Sideswipe, and Sam of course had the comparatively luxurious full sleeper cab with Optimus. "Perks of sleeping with the boss," Will teased. Sam punched him that time. Sarah told Will he deserved that one. And Optimus, instead of being offended, just made a funny sort of purring sound.

The Autobots didn't need the rest. In fact, they probably could have driven across country back and forth several times over before they needed to stop, but it was for the benefit of the humans, with lesser stamina and certainly much smaller bladders, and for the experience, where part of a road trip was absorbing all the new places around you.

So it was nearly six in the evening, on a gray and rainy day when they found a deserted park and settled in for the night. Everyone else went to find a diner, while Sam, who wasn't hungry, decided to stay behind and doze, listening to Optimus's latest selection.

"There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tower high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach…"

He must have fallen asleep, because he abruptly woke when the stereo cut out and the door to the cab opened. Optimus, in holoform, stepped up inside, carrying a brown paper bag.

"You brought me something to eat?" Sam asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"You're a wizard, Harry."

Sam gave the bunk a half-hearted smack as he sat up, Optimus settling, cross-legged, beside him on the berth.

"Harry Potter, and I told you I wasn't hungry."

"You have also told me that you always have room for pie," Optimus countered, reaching into the bag and pulling out a small box, inside that a plastic fork and perfect slice of blueberry pie.

"Best boyfriend ever," Sam praised as he dug into the dessert with relish and earning a chuckle from Optimus as he set the bag aside. There were bagels in there that would be good later for breakfast. Careful of crumbs, Sam leaned back against the left wall, his pillow propped up behind him. Optimus took Sam's feet into his lap and massaged the arches of them, sometimes digging in deep to earn a moan from Sam, who was enjoying the simultaneous pleasure of pampering and a delicious sugary pastry.

"Is everyone else still back at the restaurant?"

"Yes. When I left, Will and Epps had found the bar, and they were attempting to teach Bumblebee and Sideswipe how to play a game called beer pong."

"Oh, dear god. I just had sudden visions of apocalyptic disaster resulting from that."

"So maybe I die, and winter goes on. Maybe the hunger and the darkness and the fear never end."

"The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," Sam said.

Optimus hummed. "I believe it was Maggie who was winning." He paused. "We're all mad, here."

"That's an easy one. Alice in Wonderland. You know, sometimes I really wonder how you've managed to keep your sanity for so long with that group."

With a heavy, dramatic and long-suffering sigh, Optimus rolled his eyes. "What could you do with a man who looked you squarely in the eye and said he would rather die than be killed in combat?"

Sam froze, mouth still firmly locked around the fork, the blueberries dissolving on his tongue. Shit. He didn't know this one. What could you do with a man…What could you do…

Optimus, noticing the silence, lowered his gaze slowly until he met Sam's wide eyes, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a predatory smile. His touch on Sam's feet went from gentle caresses to a firm grip around his ankles.

"Uh," Sam said, taking a hard swallow of the bit of pie still in his mouth. "I don't know."

Ever gracious, Optimus accepted the acknowledgment of defeat and leaned up and forwards, crawling on hands and knees across the small space between them and catching Sam in a kiss that was deep and tasted of blueberries.

This kiss, though, lasted longer than the others in their game had, Optimus reaching up to cradle the back of Sam's neck and stroke along his cheekbone with his thumb. Optimus had gotten good at his holoform, Sam thought through the rapidly rising haze. He was warm, the artificial skin just roughened enough to suggest calluses—the touch of a man who spent time working with his hands. And when Optimus did pull back, it was only a couple of inches, and from this close, Sam was reminded of just how blue Optimus's eyes were—blue and a few shades near it on the edges—a color that Sam was willing to bet had yet to be matched anywhere else in the universe.

Sam gulped again, but this time for entirely different reasons. God, but was Optimus pretty. Not as square-jawed as Will but still undoubtedly masculine, dark hair going slightly gray at the temples and still covered in tiny little droplets of water from his walk in the rain outside—and Sam had never thought himself gay, but he didn't think anyone could blame him. Any man who would not go gay for Optimus Prime…already was.

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

And Sam was embarrassed to know this one, but know it he did, since his mother had made him watch the movie with her and used his shirt as a tissue. "That was Pride and Prejudice," Sam said into the breaths between them. "And you're horny."

Optimus didn't deny it. He kissed Sam again, this time grabbing at the waistband of Sam's jeans and pulling so that Sam ended up farther down, halfway on the bed and halfway in Optimus's lap. Optimus moved his hands away only long enough to adjust Sam's legs around his hips before he pressed back down, grinding the two of them together and moving to rest his weight on his elbows. His hands found their way up underneath Sam's shirt, anchoring themselves against his shoulder blades.

Sam gasped for air as Optimus licked at his lips once, twice, before beginning a suckling trail down the side of his neck. God bless but also a pox on everyone's houses for his young adult male hormones, quick enough to respond but also demanding that they skip the sauce, get to the noodles, and for the love of all that is good in this world, get this guy inside you now…

"Hey," Sam said, though it took several tries to finally get it out. "Hey, I thought if I guess right, we get to have music."

Optimus paused in a rather determined effort to get a hickey at the base of Sam's neck, giving Sam a considering look before returning to his work.

"As you wish," he said, and the radio kicked over to Enrique Iglesias.

"You know my motivation, given my reputation. Please excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but tonight I'm fucking you."

"That's not what I—" Sam began, but Optimus was already in motion, rolling Sam's shirt up over his head, jeans and underwear down past his feet, and casting all of them aside, all in the time it took Sam to add in the word "meant." Sam might have protested. Might have, but he would just have to be his own wholesome, 1950s chaperone later, because Optimus bent down and took Sam into his mouth.

Whatever words Sam had ended up little more than a garbled mess as he arched his hips up, unable to stop himself. Optimus, expecting the motion, rode with it, but he then grabbed Sam's hips and held them against the bed, keeping him still while his tongue, pretending to be human and probably better than any real human because of it, worked him to a full and aching hardness.

"She was perfectly dim and dazed, looking down in a sort of amazement at the rather tender nape of his neck, feeling his face pressing her thighs."

The excerpt cut through the fog and rushing pleasure like a bolt—an odd bit of clarity in a whirling storm. Sam could only gape.

"Lady Chatterley's Lover," Optimus explained, licking a drop of Sam's pre-come from the corner of his mouth. "D.H. Lawrence. I get another kiss."

He dipped down again, and offered a hard suck on the head even as one hand wormed its way between Sam's legs. One finger, and then another, beautifully slick with that wonderful alien magic that let Optimus make his own lube, pushed inside, stretching him open. Optimus groaned around him, and Sam copied him, all at once too tense and limbs so loose as to be falling to pieces.

"Optimus," Sam breathed. "Optimus!" Repeating his name until speech was beyond him, and he bit down on a wordless cry as he stiffened and spilled himself down Optimus's throat. Optimus let him, and nuzzled him through the after-tremors, all gentle touches while Sam's muscles twitched and jumped like that of a horse's after a race.

Optimus slowly made his way back up Sam's body, pausing here and there to place a kiss against sweaty skin before ending with a nip at Sam's earlobe.

"That impossible predator, Eros the Limb-Loosener, bitter-sweetly and afresh, savages my flesh."

Sam sighed.

"From Sappho's poetry," Optimus said, low and rough into Sam's ear. "On your stomach."

Sam moaned, willing but not feeling strong enough to move on his own. Optimus helped him, though, followed by a subtle, full-body shake that dissolved the holoform of the clothes he was wearing. Optimus settled across his back, considerate enough to rest some of his weight on his elbows but letting Sam take the rest. Sam welcomed it, enjoying the press of body and bed together, Optimus on both sides of him, though Sam didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive Optimus for taking a holoform that was nearly twice as broad as Sam himself. He felt the inadequate one in this relationship as it was, but Optimus seemed to enjoy his larger size, taking Sam in his arms and enveloping him completely.

Optimus stayed there a moment, rocking against Sam's back before Sam spread his legs, tilting his hips up as best he could. "Optimus," he said again, and Optimus reached down, took himself in hand, and guided himself in with one confident, single thrust until he was fully seated.

"If I were King, Love, ah if I were King…you should have the sun and moon to wear…"

Sam found his grip in the blankets, tangling them between his fingers, and pushed back against Optimus, not needing, not wanting him to wait—and Optimus snapped forward with a growl, latching his teeth into the tendons of Sam's shoulders. He varied his rhythm, short thrusts followed by one long one, then a slight changing of the angle before starting it all over again. Sam just tried to hold on, his resurrected desire peaking and plateauing as he thrust against the mattress, matching Optimus's pace. And through it all, Optimus talking to him, switching between the literary greats of Earth and a mumbled string of Cybertronian, rendered a nonsensical and guttural language by the limitations of his holoform's vocal cords.

"Oh then! The fiery touch of his fingers determines me, and my fears melting away before the growing intolerable heat, my thighs disclose of themselves and yield all liberty to his hand…the avenue lay too fair, too open to be missed; he is now upon me."

The moment Optimus found Sam's prostate, Sam cried and arched underneath him, and Optimus held him tight in place as control melted into a quick and frenzied rush, Sam tipping into orgasm as Optimus did with a deep and lasting shudder that trembled through the both of them like a looping current.

"I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine."

Optimus pulled himself free, both collapsing to the bed as he did so, one panting for air because of the need for it, the other for its expression of a satisfied desire. Sam, missing him already, rolled over against Optimus's chest and tucked himself into the arms and blanket that wrapped around him.

"That last one," Sam said, once speech came back to him. "From the Song of Songs."

"Yes," Optimus replied, and, obligingly, the radio turned to a classical station, volume low enough to be layered underneath the rain against the rooftop. Sam absently traced the tattoo of the Autobot symbol on Optimus's chest. Curious, he asked,

"Do you have any Cybertronian novels saved with you?"

There was a moment's silence, and then there wasn't, though whatever Sam had been expecting, it wasn't the screeching sound more reminiscent of an ancient dial-up modem than classical literature. He jumped, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Optimus shut it off after a moment, with a low rumble of a laugh.

"It's actually a beautifully written story," Optimus said. "It also has pirates in it. You'd like it."

"Yeah, well," Sam said, still a little shaken. "Get it translated into plain English and then you can read it to me."

Optimus laughed and pulled Sam in a little tighter to him. "Deal," he said, and switched back to Earth's writings, this time reaching for Anna Sewell's Black Beauty:

"My work is easy and pleasant, and I feel my strength and spirits all coming back again…My troubles are all over, and I am at home."