A/N - I originally planned for this to be just a one-shot, but Shadow Diva asked for another bit. So here 'tis.
The door flew open with a loud crash as Bumblebee kicked it and stalked in. her entrance might have been impressive, had the door not rebounded off an ill-placed pile of magazines and hit her on the shin, so that she had to hobble-skip into the centre of the room with a pained expression on her face.
"Raven thinks I got a crush on you. But I don't."
Speedy, who had straightened his chair back to four legs when she burst in, now almost fell off it. "The hell?" he said, quite forgetting to yell at her for coming in unannounced. "How'd she get that idea?"
"Apparently, in her world hating someone's guts means you're secretly crushing on 'em." Bumblebee sniffed haughtily. "So I'm here to tell you that in my case, hating your guts don't mean I'm dreaming of hearts and candies. It just means I hate your guts."
He narrowed his eyemask at her. "And the reason you're telling me this is...?"
"So you don't get no ideas if it gets back to you through someone else. Oh, and you left these for the Magic Cleaning Fairy, only she's on strike." She threw a pair of muddy yellow boots onto the floor.
Speedy shrugged indifferently. "Okay. You done?"
"Sure." Bumblebee gritted her teeth. Once again, no apology for leaving his stuff outside her door. Had she not been so willing to leave his room, she might have challenged him on his lack of manners.
Speedy's room smelled mainly of haircare products and resin, the kind he used to keep his bow in working order, but it also smelled slightly of mouldy potato and elderly laundry, and the kind of person who threw all his socks at the wall and wore those that didn't stick. Anyone not familiar with his unique approach to hygiene would have found it difficult to reconcile the boy who made his uniform with a special pocket for a mirror and comb with the slob who lived in this dump.
Bumblebee wrinkled her nose, her wings aching to buzz and get some kind of air convection in here. It wasn't healthy to have things fermenting in the corner like that. And as for the range of old sandwiches, tacos and rotting aple cores on the windowsill … "You ever clean up in here, Bow-Boy?"
"Depends how you define 'clean'." He looked up from where his eyes had returned to his magazine. "You still here?"
She kicked a pile of clothes left mouldering by the foot of his bed. "This place is a health hazard," she pronounced.
"Oh, leave it out, Bee."
"There's things here that could eat us while we sleep, for all we know. You know how Cyborg's crew found that weird moth thingy in their place? And they're hella cleaner than your scrawny butt."
"Why Bee, I didn't know you'd examined my butt."
"Don't push it, chump. I ain't in the mood."
"Anyway," Speedy went on, "that larva wasn't just living there without them knowing. BB and Starfire kept it as a pet. And it all worked out in the end."
"Whatever," Bumblebee replied, annoyed at being contradicted. "Just clean this hole up, y'dig?"
"Did you drop out of a 70s porn flick, or what?"
The edges of her wings crackled with fury. "Clean. It. Up." Then she stalked out before she felt anymore like taking a bath in citric acid.
Speedy got up to close the door after she'd gone. "Bitch," he muttered. "Nice ass, but what a bitch." Then a thought struck him, and he gave a roguish smile. "Heh. Bumblebitch."