Chapter Text
“Who did Optimus say we’re going with again?” Chromedome asks Hardhead as they trot along towards the Cybertron Command Center.
“Hot Rod,” says Hardhead, “and Blurr.”
“The speedy guy?” Chromedome says. “I’ve never actually met him.”
“Me neither.” Hardhead knows who Blurr is, he’s definitely heard of him. If Blurr’s going on this mission, some speed must be needed. Which is fine as long as the speed isn’t expected from Hardhead. He’s always been the slow and steady type.
“I’ve heard,” Chromedome continues, “that he can be very annoying.”
Hardhead shrugs. Not much really annoys him. He’s pretty good at rolling with the punches, whatever they may be. He doubts this Blurr guy is as annoying as some people say (he, too, had been warned in the past. He’s prone to ignoring warnings).
Chromedome, who knows Hardhead’s disposition quite well, waves dismissively. “Yeah, whatever.”
They reach the Cybertron Command Center and go in, heading for the elevator.
“Highbrow wanted to know if we wanna go to the karaoke bar later,” Chromedome says as they ride up.
“Better not,” Hardhead says. “Mission’s pretty early.”
“I already told him no,” Chromedome replies. “Look at me being all responsible.”
“Aren’t we always?” Hardhead says, knowing full well that’s not true. The elevator dings open on the second floor and they head for the meeting room. There are voices drifting out of the room and down the hall, and as they get closer, Hardhead can pick out one in particular talking a mile a second. That must be the infamous Blurr. Hardhead can’t make out a word of it.
They turn the corner and enter the room. Everyone else is already there. Arcee, tapping her fingers on the table. Jazz, already taking notes. Hot Rod, who appears to be taking notes but is probably just doodling. Optimus Prime, standing at the head of the conference table.
And talking to Optimus in rapid-fire run-on sentences (as far as Hardhead can tell they are run-on, as there are no discernable pauses), his hands gesturing wildly and practically blurs themselves, is the most beautiful bot Hardhead has ever seen in his entire life.
He has a gorgeous aerodynamic frame, all sleek slopes and angles. His paint job is striking, a flawless combination of the most lovely blues. And now that Hardhead can hear it clearly, his voice sounds like a delicate symphony of music (albeit a very, very fast symphony). He’s stunning. Dazzling. An angel among mechs.
“Ah, Chromedome, Hardhead,” Optimus says, cutting Blurr off (and alas, the symphony is lost). “Please have a seat.”
Blurr spins around to see who they are and Hardhead practically melts under his gaze. Internally, anyway. His feelings don’t show strongly on his face, in general. A lot of people assume he’s simply indifferent to everything. But he has plenty of feelings. He just expresses them very faintly. Chromedome tells him he has Resting Bland Face, although Chromedome has been his friend long enough to expertly read his expressions.
Chromedome gives Hardhead a little nudge and they both sit down. Hardhead tries very hard not to stare at Blurr. He can introduce himself and talk to Blurr after the meeting. Yeah. No, wait. He can’t understand him. Fuck!
Okay, okay. Maybe he just needs to focus. So Hardhead spends the entire meeting waiting for Blurr to speak and listens very intently whenever he does. Well. He can make out a few words. But not much. How is he going to talk to this beautiful bot if he can only understand every twentieth word?
Hardhead considers it. If he listens to Blurr a lot, he ought to get accustomed to his speech. After all, everyone else at the meeting (save Chromedome) seems to understand him just fine. But that might take awhile, and what kind of impression would it make? He wants to understand Blurr before talking to him.
Hardhead ponders it some more and finally it comes to him. Mission debriefings! Surely Blurr’s done plenty of those. He can just listen to every single one on repeat until he’s got Blurr’s speech patterns down. I’m a genius, Hardhead thinks, right before realizing that the meeting is over and he has no idea what it was about.
Then they’re all getting up and there’s a flash of blue and suddenly Blurr is standing in front of him talking excitedly. He really is fast. His optics are mesmerizing, a sparkling azure, but Hardhead really tries to focus on what Blurr is saying. He hears his own name a couple of times, along with Blurr’s, and thinks maybe Blurr is introducing himself.
“H-hi,” Hardhead says awkwardly and Blurr rattles off several even faster sentences (this is when he’s thankful for his Resting Bland Face. Nobody can tell when he’s an awkward mess). He has no idea what Blurr is saying now, he’s going much too fast. He just stands there and admires Blurr’s pretty face. But. As much as Hardhead would like to stand here continuing to bask in Blurr’s excited glow, he spots Jazz heading for the exit. “I—sorry, um, excuse me, talk to you later?” he says regretfully. Blurr’s face drops just the tiniest bit, but he nods and he’s still talking. Hardhead is torn. Clearly being cut off upsets Blurr somewhat, but in order to prevent that, he needs to catch Jazz. So Hardhead nods back to Blurr and hurries out of the room.
“Jazz!” he calls. “Jazz, wait!”
Jazz stops, looking surprised, and waits while Hardhead jogs to catch up. “What’s up, Hardhead? You’re usually not in such a hurry.”
“I know,” Hardhead says. “Can I have all the recordings you have of Blurr’s mission debriefings, please?”
Jazz’s visor blinks a couple of times. “Sure, if you want. But why?”
“Because,” Hardhead says with determination, “he’s beautiful and I have to talk to him but I can’t understand him. So I’m going to listen to the recordings until I can.”
Jazz’s brow goes very high. He stares at Hardhead for a few beats, then grins. “You got it. I’ll send you everything I got as soon as I get back to my office.” Before leaving, Jazz gives him a wink and two finger guns. “Good luck.”
Hardhead hurries to the elevator and back to his residence as fast as he possibly can, which admittedly is not very fast. Chromedome calls him asking what’s the matter? And Hardhead replies back that he’s got some stuff he really has to do tonight sorry, see you tomorrow. Chromedome accepts this answer without question, but Hardhead knows he’ll get interrogated in the morning. No matter.
When he gets home, he immediately goes to his console and finds the message from Jazz. There are a lot of files. A lot. Hardhead gets himself some energon, settles in, and starts listening.
The next morning Chromedome comes knocking on his door quite early; probably at the time they’re supposed to leave on their mission that Hardhead knows nothing about. He hasn’t gotten enough recharge, but it will have to do.
“Time to go, amigo!” Chromedome says cheerfully when Hardhead answers.
“I thought so,” Hardhead says.
“Yeah, right,” Chromedome says, ushering him out the door. “I don’t think you heard any of that meeting except for whatever Blurr said.”
“I didn’t,” Hardhead agrees.
“I knew it. You think he’s cute, don’t you?”
“He’s gorgeous,” Hardhead sighs, and pauses. “I don’t know if he’s into big bulky tanks. But I can’t not try.”
“That’s the spirit!” Chromedome claps him on the shoulder. “So do you have a plan of action?”
“Umm,” says Hardhead. “First, impress him. Second, ask him out.”
“Third, kiss him!” Chromedome says, wiggling his brows suggestively.
“That’s good too,” Hardhead can’t help but agree.
“Well, how are you going to impress him?”
“I got Jazz to send me all the files of Blurr’s mission briefings. And I listened to them all. So I think I’ll be able to understand him now.”
“Wow,” says Chromedome. “I’m impressed.” He gives Hardhead a high five. “It’s a good thing you did that,” he adds, “because I sure can’t understand him. Imagine going on a mission with a guy neither of us could understand.”
“Huh.” Hardhead nods. “It is a good thing I did. What’s the mission?”
Chromedome fills him in as they make their way to the shuttle hangars. It’s a simple reconnaissance mission to a planet called Nebulos. There’s word that Decepticons have been working with some of the aliens on the planet and they’re just meant to confirm whether or not it’s true. They don’t even have to go down to the planet, just scan for Decepticon presence. Hardhead wonders why Blurr’s on the mission if there’s no actual need for speed. Well. He might know that if he had paid attention at the meeting.
When they reach the correct shuttle hangar, Blurr is already there. When he spots them he zips over in the blink of an optic and immediately starts talking.
“Hi hi hi good morning I think it’s good morning for a mission are you guys all set? We can leave right away if you’re all ready already if you’re ready to go to set out Hot Rod’s already in the shuttle he’s been ready to go so should we get a move on??”
Hardhead is practically floating on air. He understood every word, even the repetitive and unnecessary ones. Success! He can now talk to Blurr.
“I’m ready,” Hardhead says, offering Blurr a shy smile (which on him might not be detectable. But he hopes it is). “I do think it’s a very good morning.”
Blurr beams and Hardhead’s spark can barely take it. “Oh you understand me!! I’m really glad I guess maybe I was babbling too much yesterday because I don’t think you understood me at all at the meeting even though I was trying to slow down a little I really was because I’ve never talked to you guys before and usually when people meet me they can’t understand me but you can! I’m really really glad I was afraid we might have some trouble carrying out the mission if that was the case if neither of you could tell what I’m saying well I think Chromedome still can’t but I’m so happy you can!” Blurr bounces up and down on his heels.
“I’m happy too,” Hardhead says, still smiling. “I listened to recordings of your mission debriefings all night. So I could understand you.”
Blurr does a double take, his beautiful optics widening. “Really? You really did that oh my goodness that’s amazing!! No one has ever done something like that before usually it takes a while before people can understand every word because I know I say a lot of words at once a ton like a whole lot but wow that’s incredible and you can understand every word?” Blurr looks downright elated and Hardhead is super proud of himself.
“Every word,” he confirms and Blurr laughs delightedly. It sounds like a chorus of angels singing. Like the Primes themselves have risen and blessed Hardhead’s audials. He decides he’s going to listen to Blurr the entire trip.
Blurr zips up into the shuttle and Hardhead follows, grinning over his shoulder at Chromedome. Chromedome could obviously tell it went well, because he gives Hardhead two thumbs up.
Listening to Blurr for the entire trip turns out to be the easiest thing ever. He rambles on and on about the planet they’re going to (which is very helpful since Hardhead didn’t pay attention at the meeting), and whenever he pauses, Hardhead asks a question and Blurr launches into another non-stop barrage of words, after which Hardhead asks another question or makes a comment, and so on and so forth all the way to the planet. By the time they get there Hardhead knows every single detail that the Autobots have collected about Nebulos. Which isn’t a whole lot, but Blurr sure knows how to say everything in a roundabout way. That doesn’t bother Hardhead at all.
When they reach Nebulos, Hot Rod guides the ship into orbit while the rest of the team monitor the scanners for Decepticon activity. Which there is. Unmistakable Decepticon energy signatures are emanating from underneath the planet’s crust, which is pretty on-brand for Decepticons.
“Well, that’s it, folks,” Hot Rod says. “Back we go.”
“That’s all?” Hardhead says. “The whole mission?”
“Well not anymore no,” Blurr says. “It would be the only mission if we didn’t find any Decepticons but we did so the next step Optimus said is send another mission to make contact with the native aliens to talk to them and figure out the Decepticon situation and then it really depends on what happens then but after that we might go back and have to fight and help the aliens and kick the Decepticons off the whole planet.”
“I see,” says Hardhead. But because he wants to know more about Blurr himself, he asks, “So what kind of things do you like?”
Blurr perks up and says “I love racing do you like racing? It’s the best thing ever I’m super good at going really really fast but you probably knew that already most everybody knows that I like to go fast everywhere all the time all over the place I basically practice racing nonstop and when the war is over I’m going to race for real like in a professional race like the kinds you can watch on old holo-vids have you ever watched those?”
“I haven’t,” admits Hardhead. “I’d like to watch you race. But I’m not very fast myself.”
“Oh I didn’t think that you participated in races since you’re a tank and I’ve never seen a tank compete in a race I mean it could happen it’s not one hundred percent unlikely but I think it’s very very likely that a tank couldn’t win—” Blurr stops himself and waves his hands around. “I’m not saying that as a bad thing I’m sure being a tank is nice you seem very solid and you have a nice frame probably the best I’ve seen for sure I bet other tanks couldn’t hold an electric candle to you not at all nope not in the least that’s my opinion anyway but um yeah yeah yeah I race a lot!”
“Who do you race with?” Hardhead asks, trying to figure out if Blurr was complimenting him or not. Unfortunately he can’t ask Chromedome because Chromedome has no idea what Blurr is saying. And he’s definitely not going to ask Hot Rod.
“I’ll race with anybody who’s fast!” Blurr says, “I pretty much race one on one or sometimes just by myself but honestly that’s not as exciting in fact I just raced Hot Rod the day before yesterday but he won! I have to be honest I think he cheated a little because he only beat me because I totally lost control on one of the turns just one turn only one and Hot Rod said it was because I was going too fast but there’s no such thing as too fast for me I can take sharp turns and hairpin turns and spins and loops and still go just as fast because going fast is what I’m really really good at so I just don’t think it’s possible that I was going too fast what do you think?”
“I think Hot Rod probably cheated,” Hardhead says, making sure it’s loud enough for Hot Rod to hear. “Because you only lost control on that one turn. Hot Rod probably put oil on it or something.” Apparently Hot Rod doesn’t want to get into it, because he throws them a skeptical glance but doesn’t say anything.
“See that’s what I thought I don’t think it’s very sportsmanlike and I could maybe possibly be wrong but I really don’t think I am and um say,” Blurr pauses for just a second, “did you okay I know you said you can understand every word I say but it seems like you’re also listening to each and every single word is that right is that correct are you listening to every single thing I say?”
“Of course,” says Hardhead, mildly confused. He went to all that trouble to be able to understand Blurr. He’s not going to waste that by not listening properly.
“Wow I wow that’s,” Blurr says, and he’s staring at Hardhead in wonder. “Every word really? I mean I thought so but I mean well I know that some people kind of tune out half of what I say they don’t actually listen to every word and I do understand that because I know I repeat things and reiterate things and go over things more than once so I don’t really expect people to completely listen to me but you do wow thank you.”
Hardhead feels defensive on Blurr’s behalf. “Who wouldn’t listen to every word?”
Blurr says the shortest thing he’s said since Hardhead met him: “Everybody.”
Hardhead blinks his visor at Blurr, then decides on the correct answer: “Losers.”
Blurr’s face tinges the faintest shade of pink. “Well what do—what do you like, Hardhead?”
“Me?” Hardhead thinks for a moment. “I like going on missions. Not always official ones. And I like… hmm, trying out new situations.” That’s a diplomatic way of saying he (and Chromedome) kinda get into trouble often.
“That sounds fun!” Blurr says. “Like going on missions like the one we just did is not so interesting but I do like going to new places I haven’t been to before like planets and colonies and exploring and finding new things I’m very good at exploring I can do it really fast the problem is that sometimes I get lost although it doesn’t take me much time to get un-lost because I’m so fast so most of the time people don’t realize I got lost in the first place which is good because I guess that’s a little embarrassing but I’m getting better at mapping as I go!”
“What kind of planets have you explored?” Hardhead asks, and Blurr happily goes off on a whole new tangent.
As on the way there, Blurr talks most of the way back, with Hardhead interjecting minimally but encouragingly. As soon as they land and disembark, however, Blurr starts hopping up and down on his heels again. “Well Hardhead I think we had a pretty good mission thanks for talking with me but I really really really gotta run we were sitting still for quite a while but I’ll talk to you later okay?” Blurr bounces faster, looking hopeful.
“Sure. Later,” Hardhead says, and Blurr grins before disappearing in a flash of blue. He zig-zags back and forth around the shuttle hangar before hurtling out the door.
“Is he going to do more work,” says Chromedome, “Or is he just going running?”
“I think he’s just going running,” Hardhead says.
“He is,” Hot Rod confirms. “That’s kinda his thing. Congrats, by the way. I think you set a new record. I’ve never heard Blurr talk so much in a single period of time.”
Hardhead turns to Hot Rod. “What do you mean?”
“Well I mean,” says Hot Rod, “that he does tend to ramble on, but most of the time people don’t let him go on and on and on and dominate the entire conversation.”
“Oh,” says Hardhead. “It’s all the same to me. I don’t talk a ton anyway.”
“Damn,” Hot Rod says. “You should ask him out. You’re a perfect match.” He walks off, laughing.
Normally, Hardhead wouldn’t trust Hot Rod on that. But this time he really hopes he’s right.
“See, I wouldn’t usually trust Hot Rod about that,” Chromedome says, “but in this case I gotta agree.”
And that’s why Chromedome is his best friend. Hardhead nods. “Good. Do you think I impressed Blurr?”
“Definitely,” is the reply. “From what I could understand. I can understand a little more now, since you did keep him talking so much. Now ask him out.”
Hardhead shuffles his feet. “How do you think I should?”
Chromedome shrugs. “I dunno, how do you usually?”
“Uh,” says Hardhead. “I don’t usually. I actually haven’t… ever.”
“Seriously?”
“Well,” says Hardhead. “There is a war on.”
“There’s never not been a war on,” says Chromedome. He is technically right, since he and Hardhead are war forges. They’ve never known a peaceful Cybertron. “It’s easy,” Chromedome continues, “You like someone, you ask if they want to go out with you.”
Hardhead makes a face. “It can’t be that easy.”
Chromedome thinks for a minute. “Okay, practice on me. Ask me out.”
Hardhead stares at him for a beat, then thinks, alright why not. “You wanna go out with me Chromedome?”
“Sure!” Chromedome says with exaggerated enthusiasm. “See, it’s simple! Feel better now?”
Hardhead squares his shoulders. He can do this. “Yeah. I do. I will.”
But he doesn’t. Blurr calls him later, explaining that he got Hardhead’s comm frequency from Jazz, and that he’s been running all over the city and then delivering some messages and packages and the like for a few different bots because he’s really good at that too since he’s probably the fastest bot on Cybertron so if Hardhead ever needs a courier Blurr would be more than happy to help and what’s Hardhead been up to?
Hardhead tells him, that he was cleaning his turret and guns, and he doesn’t think Blurr will find that very interesting. But (somehow unsurprisingly) it makes Blurr launch into a story about cleaning his own blaster and accidentally zapping Grimlock. He talks and talks and talks until it’s a bit late and he says he hopes Hardhead has a very good night and gets plenty of recharge because he was looking a little tired today and that’s not a criticism Hardhead still looked good but Blurr hopes he has a good rest and they’ll talk tomorrow! And they end the call. And Hardhead didn’t ask him out.
Hardhead doesn’t slip into recharge right away. He lays there, staring at the ceiling, and thinking, what’s the big deal? Well. Rejection, of course. He can tell that Blurr likes talking to him, but that doesn’t mean he wants to date him. Fuck, he’s so beautiful though. Hardhead repeats aloud, “I can’t not try.” A little encouraged, he offlines his visor and drifts into recharge.