Transformers (movieverse), Sam/Mikaela/Bumblebee, guardians
Bumblebee sat outside of Diego Garcia's small, efficient hospital, and if he had a stomach, he would have been sick to it. Sam and Mikaela were inside somewhere, recovering from harsh burns and internal injuries they'd received in a recent battle; harsh burns and internal injuries they'd received when they'd thrown themselves over his ripped-open chest to protect his exposed spark from a Decepticon's blast.
The fact that he wasn't dead was due solely to them. The fact that they weren't dead was a miracle.
They came out after many days of recovery, with too many scars, and Sam was limping, and Mikaela's hand hung at an unnatural angle, and their relieved laughs when they saw him were the most beautiful things Bumblebee had ever heard. They ran over to him, verifying with their hands what their eyes told them, and he scooped them up and held them close. "Never again," he whispered. "Never yourselves for me, never."
Mikaela reached under his chest armor and tweaked a wire. "How are you supposed to be our guardian, if you're dead?" She asked, pretending to not notice how his hands shook. "If you're our guardian, we can be yours."
So brave, his humans. So brave, despite their frailty, their lack of armor, the fact that they couldn't be reforged or rebuilt good as new. So fearless in how they touched him, uncaring of how other judgmental humans and disapproving Autobots saw their relationship. And beautiful, so beautiful.
He moved away from the hospital and it's heavy traffic, cupping his precious companions against his chest, attempting to return the pleasure he was given. His hands weren't designed for such delicate work, and he was still so clumsy at this, though he knew their bodies so well. They cared not, earning their pleasure from what they gave him as much as from what he returned.
He found space and some privacy between two buildings, crouching against cinder block to curve over them in a protective embrace of metal. They plunged both arms into his torso, re-memorizing what they knew and learning what had been rebuilt, and Bumblebee moaned brokenly. Sam looked up at him with a sweet, fierce smile. "If we're yours, you're ours," the human stated, Mikaela nodding beside him. "Even if we're not covered in metal armor."