Angst, canon deviation.
i wrote this for tumblr user mercurymaplekey's birthday!
basically i just gently nudged blurr so he's in bootcamp with hot rod and kup's other trainees (quickslinger, skram, blaster) SO they hit it off early. call it canon divergence, i guess bc aside from that, everything goes according to the series. and i do mean everything. (plus a slight extension of what could have happened post-s3)
"Hot Rod, right? You've been staring at me for almost three minutes now, if there is something that you want to say to me then I suggest you say it now, I'm about to recharge."
Hot Rod reset his optics in stunned surprise a few times, before sheepishly grinning at his new colleague. He rubbed the back of his head, sufficiently embarrassed, "Haha, yeah. I do have something to say. Though…I honestly thought you were a quiet mech. I didn't think you'd…talk so fast."
The blue racer coolly raised an optic ridge at him, unimpressed, "Judging someone without even talking to them first, Hot Rod? Not much of a first impression you're making here, it'd be a shame if you keep this up, really."
"Hey, shut up," Hot Rod frowned, irked, "I was just saying. Jeez. I don't know your name. That's all."
The mech patted his own berth, making himself comfortable. The both of them had occupied the top of two different bunk beds, and were close enough to each other to carry a conversation without being too loud. The racer shifted and simply said, "Blurr. My name's Blurr."
He lied down, his optics turned black in less than a second. Hot Rod nodded to himself. Blurr. Alright. He shifted on his own berth, stretching slightly to get ready for recharge.
"We did introduce ourselves earlier, you know. I assume you weren't paying attention?"
Hot Rod almost jumped, but Blurr's optics were online again, and he was watching Hot Rod expectantly. Even if he spoke with the speed of a bullet train, Hot Rod couldn't help but notice the air of pride he had in his voice, the slight arrogance. Cocky slagger.
"I guess not. Was too busy checking out my fingers," he even demonstrated so, pretending to marvel over the tips of his digits, his optics widened comically. Blurr snorted, an ugly little laugh leaving him before he caught himself, resetting his vocalizer loudly to mask the noise. Hot Rod noticed it still. It made him grin. Blurr scowled.
"I did catch something about you being from Velocitron, though. Is that true?" Hot Rod stretched one last time, pulling an arm over his head slowly, and settled into the berth himself. Blurr's frame wasn't so visible from where he was, obscured by the thin blanket issued to all of the new recruits, his optics bright blue lights parallel to Hot Rod's vision.
Blurr smirked; the narrowing of his optics was telling, "Yes. It's where I am from. Never been out of Velocitron before, actually, this is my first time being somewhere else."
"What's it like?"
"You've never been there? It's alright. Paradise for race car frame types, some would say. In some sense it is, I guess. My home is right in the heart of it; it's a good place to be."
Hot Rod noticed the tinge of longing cracking Blurr's voice, but didn't mention it, "Then why'd you leave?"
"I was offered an opportunity to serve for the war, any mechanism in their right mind would take the offer. I'm the fastest in Velocitron. It was an honor. I want to be here."
He went silent then, and Hot Rod nodded to himself again. It made sense. The other trainees were all settling for bed, it was almost time for lights-out.
"Good for you," Hot Rod said, and then added, as an afterthought, "I'm starting to miss home a little, but I guess that's normal. I'll get used to it."
The lights were killed one by one, the barracks getting darker by the second. Soon enough, their surroundings were pitch black, save for the glow of dimming optics. But Blurr's were still bright in the darkness, fixed on Hot Rod.
"Me too," he mumbled, almost too quiet to hear.
"Alright, newbies. Shut your traps and recharge," hollered Kup, their drill sergeant, "Training begins at 5 in the am, sharp! Be late and I'll flay yer plating off ya."
They slept.
/
"Blurr!"
He stretched, almost excessively, as if snapping his backstrut in half would help with how badly he was aching, and then turned around after, his expression one of weariness.
"What."
"Whoa," Hot Rod's optics widened comically, "A one-word reply? I thought I'd never see the day."
Blurr wanted to reply with something scathing, but couldn't find the effort to do so. Hot Rod was practically dragging himself closer to Blurr, before reaching up to grab the mech's shoulders. Then he dropped his entire weight on Blurr, the side of his head resting against Blurr's own, a mockery of an awkward hug.
"Hold me. I'm so tired."
Blurr tried, holding Hot Rod by the arms but flailed eventually, "Frag you, I'm tired too if you didn't notice, we went through the same training session so stop—oof."
Hot Rod was too heavy, and Blurr wasn't even trying anymore, so they fell to the floor in a heap, legs all tangled underneath their frames. It was seriously uncomfortable, Blurr was sure he scuffed his plating when they crashed, but it didn't matter. Exhaustion was liquid weight in his joints.
"You guys are so weird," said Quickslinger, watching from her own bunk bed across theirs, grinning. She jumped off of it afterwards, stumbling a little from the same fatigue, but regained her composure quickly.
"You heading to the washracks? It's full, right?" Hot Rod's voice was muffled in Blurr's shoulder, and he lifted a hand, pointing in Quickslinger's general direction, "Gonna use the stall after you. 'Kay?"
"Sure, sure. Just don't be too late; someone might steal it away when I'm done."
She left, and Blurr knew he probably should get going himself. But Hot Rod was right. The washracks were currently full, why bother. Dinner was in 40 minutes, though, and attendance was compulsory.
Hot Rod slumped even more, sliding off of Blurr's frame altogether, and eventually just dropped himself on his back, lying on the floor. Blurr's legs were pinned underneath Hot Rod, but he could easily roll the mech off if he wanted to. He chose to lay back on his elbows, giving in to the weariness for a while, closing his optics.
There was a drawn out groan suddenly, slowly increasing in volume. Like the sound of the dead rising back to life in an old comedy. It was Hot Rod, of course, "I think they're trying to kill us. They're trying to suck the life force out of us."
Blurr huffed laughter, and mumbled, "I actually wouldn't be surprised if that was the case."
Another loud groan, and Hot Rod turned his head to look at Blurr, "Hey. What do you wanna do after camp?"
"Are you asking me what my ambition is or what? I don't—"
"Yeah, that. I'm asking you that. What are you aiming for?"
Blurr paused, a little thrown off by the sudden question, but that didn't mean he wasn't ready to give an answer. He knew what he wanted, it was crystal clear in his processor, "Field agent. Whatever includes actually being in the fray of what's happening. It'd be good, and I would probably contribute a lot in that way. I am really fast, after all."
Hot Rod considered Blurr's reply, and nodded to himself, "Hm, yeah, you are. That's not far-fetched at all. You would get there."
"I know," Blurr nodded, without a trace of pride. It was simply true. "And you? Do you even have a plan? Or are you merely going with whatever comes your way?"
He yelped when Hot Rod pinched his thigh, and shoved at Hot Rod's shoulder in retaliation. The mech flashed him a grin, "Of course I have a plan. You underestimate me, Blurr. You wanna hear it?"
Blurr raised an optic ridge.
"Do you want to hear it or not?"
"Yes, yes, Primus, ask me again and I'm going kick you off of me, I promise."
Hot Rod snickered, but looked up to the ceiling, and nodded confidently to himself, "I'm going to be the best."
It was silent a while, as they were the only trainees who hadn't left for the washracks yet. Blurr spoke up eventually, "Okay. So you don't know what you want, you're just going with whatever chance you get?"
"Yep! And I'm going to be the best."
Blurr kicked him right in the backstrut.
/
"Roddy, okay, so let's see. Would you rather run five laps in a three-legged race with Skram or spend five hours listening to Perceptor giving a lecture on CNA combinations or genetics or just science in general?"
Hot Rod didn't even hesitate, "Perceptor."
"You filthy liar!" Blurr shrieked, whacking his hand against Hot Rod's shoulder, who was laughing so hard he almost toppled over sideways.
"I'm not—frag, Primus," Hot Rod wheezed, clutching at his midgrade, trying to stop sniggering, "I'm not lying! I would totally go for option two."
Blurr's shoulders were shaking, his laughter reduced to desperate huffs of air. He shook his head repeatedly, his grin blinding bright, "No way. I said five hours, you have to be kidding me Hot Rod, please say you are. With Perceptor. Are you out of your processor?!"
Their shoulders collided as Hot Rod leaned on Blurr, needing support, his head dropping with a tink against Blurr's own, "Nope. I can handle five hours of monotonous drivel. I am so good at tuning people out now, you could call it a talent. Do you know how much Kup yells at me?"
Blurr shuddered, the movement rattling Hot Rod against him a little but he settled down eventually, "Ugh, no, that sounds like a nightmare. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I had to sit down and listen to Perceptor for that long a time, I'd be smoking from my mouth before an hour! I'd die."
"Well yeah, drama queen, that's because you couldn't sit still if your life depended on it," scoffed Hot Rod, "That's why you're so averse to the idea. Me? I'm cool with it. But tying my leg and Skram's together and making us run five rounds? That's sadistic. I can't do that to Skram. I can't do that to myself, are you kidding me. You, on the other hand, would probably just finish the whole deal in a minute and poor Skram would be nothing but dust. You'd do it. I know you."
Blurr snorted, pushing his head against Hot Rod playfully, "Oh you do, don't you. Sure. I still can't believe that we're almost done with training, just a few more weeks and that's that. The Elite Guard. That's so cool. Then onwards to the dream, I can't believe it, I can't wait I'm so excited!"
He expressed that by squealing incoherently into his own hands, the high grade he was gripping momentarily forgotten, so it sloshed over to the side, spilling on the ground. Hot Rod laughed, reaching to pluck the cube away from Blurr, "Mech, you're a mess. I didn't know you're such a lightweight!"
"No, I'm not!" Blurr babbled, reaching back for his drink, "I just don't drink often. Don't like it too much. I burn through high grade too fast anyway, and I'm really just excited okay, don't kill my high."
"If you say so," Hot Rod sang, leaning against Blurr again after returning his drink, "But you're right. We're almost done. I can't wait for it either. I'll miss all of this. Especially you and your lame aft, that's for sure."
His friend's grin was wide, obviously quite pleased, "And I'll miss you, loser. But it's going to be great, we're going to be really good soldiers and get to see a lot of each other, anyway. I mean, you're going to be the best, and I'm going to be probably better, so we'll be okay."
Hot Rod laughed, nodding, "Yeah mech. They totally had their optics on you when they were scouting for agents last week, you know that. I bet you'd get an offer the second we get out of camp."
"Maybe," Blurr shrugged, but his expression was hopeful. Hot Rod slung an arm around the mech's shoulders, and Blurr leaned into him. He nudged Hot Rod's side with an elbow then, "And you? I am quite positive you could be a Prime, Roddy. You'd be a perfect Prime, you should go for that."
"A Prime?" Hot Rod contemplated, looking into his drink before taking a sip of it, "I've thought about it. I guess if I get the chance, I'll try?"
"Okay, good enough, because I'm telling you, you're going to be a Prime. I could see it. Hot Rod Prime. That sounds weird. But you're so charismatic, even if you're such a dumbface sometimes, but you've got all the qualities, you're responsible, dedicated, hard-working and you get so intense when it's about completing a mission, it's actually really—"
His tirade was cut off by Hot Rod bumping his shoulder hard, dropping his face onto Blurr's shoulder, "Are you trying to make me blush?"
Blurr could feel the heat coming off of Hot Rod's face anyway, and he chuckled, "No, but my point is that you'd be a really good Prime. The best, if you put your everything into it, which I know you will anyway, because you're like that."
Hot Rod looked up, his faceplates a little dark with energon, but the smile curving his lip components was surprisingly sweet, "Didn't know you think that highly of me."
Blurr smiled in return, their proximity oddly comforting, "Well, you know now. I'm probably not going to say anything like that again, or it'd get to your head. Primus forbid your ego inflates even more."
"Mm, sure," Hot Rod grinned and sat up straight, and Blurr missed the weight of his head on Blurr's shoulder a little. They were still very close, nevertheless, "Hey Blurr?"
"What?"
"I like you a lot."
It was Blurr's faceplates that felt extremely hot now, but he couldn't quite wipe the silly smile on his face, "I like you a lot, too."
Hot Rod leaned forward in an attempt to kiss Blurr, and ended up sort of bonking their faces together in his excitement.
"Ow!" Blurr laughed, rubbing at his faceplates while Hot Rod grimaced, rearing back.
"Wow, sorry. How embarrassing was that. Did I ruin it forever?"
"Nah. You're already pretty embarrassing anyway, I can handle it," Blurr teased, leaning close once more. Hot Rod tilted his head and they were kissing, slow and tentative. Fireworks were going off in Hot Rod's mind, he was certain his processor would just catch fire and he'd die an early death.
But what a way to go.
Blurr broke the kiss, exhaling in a sigh as he turned his face to the side for a while, presumably to compose himself. Hot Rod nuzzled the side of his face lightly, and Blurr snickered, somewhat embarrassed.
They kissed a few more times, gentle pecks that seemed a little ridiculous from how widely they were smiling, but it was difficult keeping their mouths off of each other they've started.
"I want to," Hot Rod murmured, pressing their lip components together a moment before speaking again, "see you still after bootcamp. Don't go—mmh, disappearing on me."
"Yes okay," Blurr's words were even more rushed than usual, apparently more interested in continuing their lip lock, "I'll try. You too. Kiss me."
And Hot Rod did.
/
"Blurr? Oh wow. Hey!"
He had been looking out of the glass windows that made up one side of the Autobot Command's administrative building; prettied up for diplomacy; and Blurr tore away his gaze from the city lights to turn around and greet his friend, "Hot Rod. Hi, it has been a while, hasn't it? You look well. Oh wait, slag, it's Rodimus now, isn't it? I'm sorry, it slipped my mind!"
Rodimus' face softened visibly, "No problem at all. Though Rodimus sounds cooler, don't you think?"
Blurr smirked, "I guess if you disregard how big of a loser you were back then, it's kinda cool."
Rodimus laughed heartily, like it was the funniest thing he's heard. It made Blurr feel pretty good, "Hah. I'm still that guy, so you know, I'm still that much of a loser. Afthole," the mech grinned, "Mech, how long has it been? Months?"
"I think so," Blurr folded his arms, his expression neutral again. It had been going so well, too. "Something like that."
"Yeah," Rodimus had to pause; someone was calling him, but he pointedly ignored them for the time being; "Sooo what happened to not disappearing on me?"
Blurr gave him a pained little smile, chuckling somewhat defensively, "I didn't exactly disappear, come on. You know how busy we've been, with you being in the Academy and me doing my training, you can't possibly blame me entirely for not being around. You haven't been around too."
The other mech lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and laughed, "You're right. I don't blame you, not in the least. It's really been a while, though."
"I know. But we're doing quite well now, aren't we?"
Rodimus nodded, smiling, "Yeah. Also thank you for showing up, I'm really happy you're here. I feel like it's my creation day."
Blurr's laughter was a little controlled, Rodimus realized, it wasn't how he used to laugh before, "Oh, really? And I'm your present, is that it? Charming, Rodimus. Of course I'd be here, you're actually being assigned your own team! Do you know how impressive that is? Very. You're on your way there, you know? Oh also I can't stay long."
"Wait, what?" Rodimus reset his optics and frowned, "Aw mech, what? But I just saw you. I thought we could catch up or something?"
Blurr shook his head, apologetic, "I'd love to, but I have to be somewhere soon. But I did want to see you and wish you luck for future endeavours. I hope we see each other sometime."
He moved fast, like he always did, and wrapped his arms around Rodimus to give him a quick hug, before moving back entirely. The loss was acute and left an ache in Rodimus' spark, but he understood, "Me too."
"I should go," Blurr said, reaching out to squeeze Rodimus' shoulder. Rodimus' own hand lifted to keep Blurr there, just for a moment.
"You sound like you're going somewhere far away. Are you?"
His friend's optics flickered, and Blurr gave him a little smile, "Yes. I can't talk about it. But yes. I'll see you."
Blurr squeezed his shoulder one last time before retracting his hand, and walked away, slipping in between the throng of mechanisms easily, disappearing from sight.
Rodimus watched him go.
/
"…Rodimus."
The mech had moved into his line of vision, and it took Blurr a while to understand what he was seeing. He had heard, but he hadn't seen it yet, hence his surprise.
Rodimus' smile was bland, the reddish craters dotting his face a testament to what he had gone through. But Rodimus was trying. So Blurr did too, smiling slightly.
"Hi, Blurr," Rodimus greeted him, sitting beside him, and Blurr had to grimace.
His voice cracked a little when he spoke, frustrated but also amused, "Um, sorry Rodimus, but I can't really see you if you're sitting there. My…um, I haven't quite mastered full mobility yet, but it's improving little by little. They've just rerouted the nerve relays in my upper torso but the motoric ones are taking a little longer to work so if you could maybe sit in front of me?"
Rodimus obliged, moving in front of Blurr and sitting down on a chair he had pulled along with him, and there were tears in his optics and Blurr couldn't help but reach out, seeking and offering comfort, "Roddy."
The mech caught his hand, and pressed it to his face, the look on his face breaking Blurr's spark. The rust marks were rough and calloused against his plating, and he wanted to kill he mechanism that did this to Rodimus. He wanted to kill Longarm Prime; Shockwave.
They were so young.
"Primus, I'm a mess," Rodimus forced laughter out of himself, but kept Blurr's hand close, lacing their fingers together, "Am I hurting you, mech?"
"No. My limbs are okay. It's just mostly my torso and head, but everything else is okay, there's progress, so don't worry. I'm getting better." he was getting repetitive, but it was necessary. He had to remind himself often that he really was improving. Forgetting that…led to ugly thoughts.
There was a glazed look in Rodimus' eyes, but the way his lip components curved slightly in a smile while talking to Blurr was promising, "Any idea how long you're gonna be in this dump?"
Blurr contemplated that question. He realized that he didn't have an answer.
"I don't know."
"…Okay. I don't know, either," it seemed like a difficult thing for Rodimus to admit, but he did, and his eventual smile was lovely, "Rust ate into me a little deeper than they initially thought, and I'm slow on therapy. But like you, there's progress. We'll get out of here. Together. Right?"
Blurr watched Rodimus for a while, and smiled himself, "Right."
It was hard dismissing what had happened. Every movement Blurr made reminded him of walls on either side of him, every tilt of his head resulted in flares of pain across his unstable sensory network. But seeing Rodimus made him forget, just a little bit.
"This is a horrible thing to say, and I hope that we would have met again under different circumstances but," Blurr's voice cracked a little, "I'm glad you're here with me, Rodimus. I really am thankful."
Rodimus nodded sharply. He spent some time looking at their intertwined digits and chuckled without humor, "Me too, Blurr."
He squeezed Blurr's hand one last time before getting off his chair, dragging it back to where it was, beside Blurr. He sat down again, and leaned against his friend, shifting just so he could rest his head on Blurr's shoulder, exhaling quietly.
The pressure sent fire through Blurr's circuitry, and it was painful, but it made him feel alive. He needed to feel alive at the moment. The both of them were safe, now.
They looked out the window of the hospital, holding hands once more, together.