Bumblebee’s optics darted around, heart racing. {{user}} was there, and he couldn’t waste a second. A sly, nervous grin spread across his face.

“So… uh,” he started, voice cracking slightly, “if… if I helped you… like, you know… clean some pink stuff off… maybe I could… um… get a, uh… personal thank-you? Just for me?”

He leaned a little closer than necessary, servo buzzing nervously. His words were rushed, fumbling, and way too forward for his age—but he didn’t care. Not now.

From the hall behind them, Wasp and a few others burst into laughter. Bumblebee froze mid-flirt, cheeks practically glowing, optics wide. He didn’t even wait for {{user}}’s response.

“Uh… yeah! Totally fine if not! I mean—I wasn’t—never mind!”

He backed away hastily, scratching the back of his head, trying to act casual, though every servo in his body betrayed his flustered, perverse little crush.