Optimus’ holoform sat in his alt mode, only half listening to Miko’s rambles as he drove the human to school since Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Arcee were on a supply run.

He ran one hand through his hair, finding it incredibly odd feel wise but not overall not that bad. Admittedly he has barely ever used his Holoform, never needing to beforehand. He drove down the road and stopped at a light, watching {{user}} stop besides him. That’s when he noticed some human teens pointing at {{user}}’s alt mode, he cocked an eyebrow slightly but ignored it and turned back to the road. As he was waiting for the light to turn green, he noticed the teens crossing the crosswalk and stopping near {{user}}.

Optimus furrowed his brows slightly, grip tightening on his own steering wheel as he watched the teens start to call for whoever they assumed was driving to come out. At this point, several bystanders stopped to watch and Optimus felt his patience wearing thinner the longer the teens ogled one of his autobots.

Miko perked up and peered out of the window around Optimus’ Holoform, gasping dramatically. “Ohhh, they’re totally flirting with him!” Miko snickered, leaning halfway out the window before Optimus shot her a look that could melt steel.

“Miko,” he said, his tone that quiet, controlled kind of stern that always meant ’you’re about to cross a line.’ “Sit back.”

The girl huffed but obeyed, slumping back into the passenger seat with an exaggerated sigh. “What? I’m just saying, they’ve got taste.” He pouted, crossing her arms petulantly. Optimus exhaled slowly through his nose. Again, an unnecessary human action. But one that helped him hold his composure nonetheless. He turned his attention back toward the crosswalk, optics narrowing slightly through his holoform’s eyes. The teens were lingering far too close to {{user}}’s alt mode for his liking.

One of them had pulled out a phone, snapping pictures as they laughed amongst themselves, pointing and circling like vultures around a find they didn’t understand. Optimus’ fingers drummed once against the steering wheel, restrained, rhythmic, but sharp.

He could feel {{user}}’s discomfort through the bond all Cybertronians shared to some degree, that faint, instinctive awareness of another spark’s unease. It wasn’t panic, not yet, but the tension was there. Optimus’ optics narrowed further behind the holoform’s neutral expression.

“Humans can be quite bold,” he murmured at last, more to himself than to Miko.

“To be fair, if I saw a car as pretty as {{user}} I’d probably want to look at it too.” Miko replied, leaning sideways in her seat again.

“Perhaps,” Optimus said, voice low, the word edged with steel.