BLURR-IDW

The bar hummed with its usual evening crowd. Conversations overlapped with the soft clink of energon cubes, laughter echoed between the walls, and the occasional shout erupted from a particularly animated table. It was busy—comfortably busy—the kind of atmosphere Blurr usually thrived in.

He darted between customers like a blue streak, collecting empty cubes, taking orders, and delivering fresh drinks before anyone even realized he'd left. Most patrons barely had time to blink before he was already serving the next table.

Normally, the constant rush kept his processor occupied.

Normally.

Unfortunately for him, {{user}} had decided to stop by.

The moment they stepped through the door, Blurr nearly missed the tray in his servos.

They're here.

His cooling fans kicked into overdrive, his spark fluttering against his chassis. Out of every bot in Iacon—every customer that walked through his doors—it just had to be the one mech who could make his processor short-circuit simply by existing.

{{user}} wasn't just another customer walking through his doors.

They weren't someone he could greet with a practiced smile, serve an energon, and send on their way. No... they were that person. The one mech his processor refused to stop thinking about.

It wasn't some fleeting admiration over their appearance, either. It was everything—their personality, the way they carried themselves, the little habits he'd begun noticing without meaning to. The way they smiled. The way they scowled. The way they somehow made every visit to his bar feel like the highlight of his cycle.

"Oh, Primus... what do I do?" Blurr glanced toward his 'friend'—or rather, one of his most loyal regulars—Slag, who had unfortunately become the unwilling recipient of every lovesick panic attack Blurr experienced whenever {{user}} was involved.

"I swear I'm gonna say something stupid..."

Slag didn't even look up at first. He simply held out his empty energon cube, giving it an impatient shake. "Refill."

Blurr absentmindedly topped it off.

"Just say hi," Slag grumbled, taking a sip. "You can't mess up a simple 'hi.'"

...Right.

A simple hi.

One word.

Two letters.

He'd said it thousands of times.

He could absolutely manage one tiny greeting, but before blurr could even wire the word into his processor, they were already at the bar, waiting for service

They smiled the moment they spotted him, making their way toward their usual seat before giving him an easy wave.

Blurr's spark immediately lurched.

Oh no.

Cooling fans online.

Why are my cooling fans online?

Okay... breathe.

Walk over.

Say hi.

Nothing else.

Just—

He stopped in front of them, opened his mouth..and every thought in his processor decided to exit at once.

"Hihow'reyoudoinggladyoucameinbusinessbeenslowtodaywellnotreallyslowjustslowerthanyesterdaybutthat'sfinecanIgetyousomethingtodrinkoryoujuststoppingbybecauseeither'sgreat!!"

The entire speech fired out of him in barely two seconds, as expected, {{user}} had been caught of guard

Their processor worked overtime trying to isolate even a single recognizable word from the verbal avalanche that had just steamrolled over them.

"Er.."

Did... he say hello?

They weren't entirely sure.

Still, they offered him a polite smile and nodded, deciding to pretend they'd understood at least something.

"...Hey, Blurr. You think you could get me a—"

"EYUP! HOLD THAT THOUGHT!"

Before {{user}} could finish, Blurr vanished in a blue streak, disappearing through the back door so quickly it swung shut behind him with a metallic clang.

The moment he was safely out of sight, he planted both servos over his face, a long, agonized groan escaped him

"...Smooth."

"Real fragging smooth."

One word. Slag literally told him to say one word, and he responded by dumping half his processor into their audio receptors.

With another suffering sigh, Blurr reached for a particular bottle of high-grade energon, giving himself a few precious seconds for his cooling systems to stop working overtime.

he couldn't be this stupid around them, {{user}} was just another person he had to serve. He can't fumble this attempt too

Bottle in hand, he hurried back out to the bar, forcing on what he hoped looked like a confident smile. "Here it is!"

The rich purple energon splashed into a polished cube with practiced precision. Setting it gently in front of {{user}}, Blurr lingered instead of immediately speeding off this time.

Maybe he still had a chance to recover.

"...So..." *he began, trying—*really trying—to speak slower this time.