#squirming around in the sludge would in fact fix me

[shadowofthelamp]

More Together

Decided to finish off this thing I started back in Janury in honor of the Carnage trailer. Zadr Venom AU. Yes, Zim is named Doom, because how was I supposed to resist? Likes, replies, and reblogs appreciated!

Rated: T

Warnings: Mild mentions of gore/Venom canon-typical cannibalism, alcohol, and a brief moment where Dib remembers that he likes aliens a lot. 

Wordcount: 1175

In his twenty-four years of life, Dib had seen and been through a lot. He’d been knocked on his ass by more paranormal creatures than he could count, had lost six bs for one reason or another, and had worn his throat out screaming into three different pillows, two of which he’d then torn to shreds.

This, though?

This was new.

His arms rested against a creaking oak banister as a head made of a viscous substance that wasn’t quite black (but it was so deep of a red it may as well have been) settled on his arm, thick strands woven around his bicep underneath his sleeve.  That head had enveloped his entire body, had- had-

God, he could still taste the viscera sliding down his throat, still feel the crunch of skull between his teeth. He reached his free hand up, tugging his top lip up to make sure that he hadn’t grown shark teeth outside of the transformation. The sharpness of his canines wasn’t very encouraging.

There had been rumors of an alien crash. It had been dark, and he’d only had his flashlight and a taser, and yes, it was incredibly stupid, but that was what he did. Went off into dangerous places to prove the unprovable, to capture the uncapturable, to find the truth that no one else could or would. There had been searchlights, and he’d ducked behind a tree and cursed himself for forgetting to charge his phone. A cat had wandered past, and he’d only had seconds to consider how strange its eyes were when the searchlight had flashed on them before something had leapt forward and smothered him, an icy chill sinking through his skin and through muscles and bones to curl around his heart like a fist.

He’d run, ripped up his entire apartment for whatever food he could find, and then had started hearing voices other than his own. That was something he had been certain he’d grown out of, at least outside of hauntings. (Getting kicked out of the kid’s asylum three times meant you were either sane or so round-the-bend nobody could do anything for you anyway.)

An hour later, he’d turned into a monster, ripped a man’s head off, and stuffed it down his throat, so needless to say things had gone rather downhill from there.

The voice had pulled itself out of his skin with ruby pupil-less eyes and the most oil-slick and disgusting head Dib had ever seen, called itself Doom, declared they would be perfect together, and then passed out on his arm, half-sinking back into the skin. Which was where they were now, on the back porch of a bar that Dib had long since learned didn’t ask many questions as long as he paid his tab on time. He was glad he was wearing the trench coat that had both sleeves fully intact to hide his new “friend”, because even apathetic barmen may have been just a bit curious about the literal fucking alien chilling on and squirming under the skin inside a patron’s arm.

The porch had cleared out with the November chill, and Dib swigged a third shot of whiskey to wash the taste of guts from his throat.

“Stop that.” Oh, goody, the eyes were back.

“Stop what?”

“That horrible tasting sludge. I command you!” Dib’s arm jerked. He would have spilled the drink if he hadn’t already finished it, condensation dripping down and flattening a bit of hair on his wrist.

“I needed to-” There were other people staring at him. He narrowed his eyes, snarling, and they quickly looked away. Still, he dialed down the volume. “I needed to get the taste out of my mouth.”

“Intestines taste delicious, that liquid just burns!”

“Intestines taste like- like guts, guts don’t taste good raw!” Dib hissed back.

“They do, your unrefined human palate just has to adjust, then you’ll see.” Doom flopped Dib’s arm around a little more. “You need more muscle, muscle comes from meat!”

“Look, just because protein’s expensive-”

“Eating people is free,” the alien still hanging out on Dib’s arm said smugly, tendrils creeping down Dib’s other arm and shifting around his neck.  

“Eating people’s going to get real expensive if anyone catches us,” Dib said, fighting back his immediate monkey-brain xenophiliac responses to what felt like tentacles caressing his skin, pressing down just hard enough that it was clear Doom was only arguing as a formality and could probably regain control at any time. “Look. It’s not that there aren’t people who don’t deserve-”

“Of course there are! We’re on the same page!” Doom pulled back, reforming next to Dib’s neck, and the man pulled his coat collar up. “There is pain in you, Dib, rejection and fear, but together, we can fix it. Together, we hunt both man and beast-”

“-Sort out the frauds and the stupid cops and people who deserve to be eaten, and manage catch the real things,” Dib muttered as Doom purred, actually nuzzling against him. Like some kind of gooey alien cat.

“Yes, yes, exactly! You have strength and intelligence, I have power beyond your wildest dreams. Humans have rejected you-”

“Thanks a lot, goo-boy,” Dib interjected before Zim continued, one tendril tightening around his thigh as a warning but only drawing a rush of blood to his cheeks.

“-But I have not. On my planet, they misunderstand my genius, but here- here, I can be more. We can be more. You are the only being worthy of me, Dib-human. Be honored!”

There was something to the bright echoey timbre that Doom had that didn’t quite fit the fact that the only solid thing about him (them, it?) were the rows of razor-sharp teeth, but it was rapidly endearing Dib to the alien. Maybe it was the edge from the booze, or maybe that guy they’d ripped to shreds had been running high enough on adrenaline that the hormone was being digested and processed by now and making him go stupid.

“You know what?” Dib licked his lips, getting the last of the whiskey taste out as Doom gagged next to him. “I call the targets.”

“Is that a yes?”

“On a trial basis, understand? I can still find some way to fry you out of me, but I’m not about to look a superpowered gift alien in the mouth. Yet.”

He really hoped that the nip Doom made on his neck was supposed to be playful, but the fact that the alien was rumbling happily and pulsing joy through his body meant it was probably a good bet.

(Dib ended up puking up the whiskey twenty minutes later while Doom alternated cussing at him and crowing about being right. It was only remembering just how strong he’d felt when they’d been together that kept Dib from trying to make him stop with the blowtorch stuffed in the back of his closet.)

[snowdice]

Folds in Paper (Chapter 1: Burnt Rubber Pop-Tarts)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters: 

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel... you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

The words in front of him seemed to squirm back and forth across the screen as he watched, despite the fact that he’d bought this screen to prevent that exact thing from happening. The ‘d’s and ‘p’s and ‘b’s seemed to blur together into a sludge of incomprehensible nonsense, just like the voices around him seemed to.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he sat there staring at that report. Time itself seemed almost like the words and the people, it swirled past him in a blur of sounds and colors, but he never could quite grab ahold of it.

Something smacked him in the forehead, and he startled, looking up. “Remus,” Janus sighed. He picked up the projectile that had just been lobbed at him. “Did you steal paper from the 20th century supply again?” he asked, staring at the folded-up piece of white paper in the shape of a crane. It was one of Remus’s favorite designs. “That’s not what it’s for.”

“There’s a message inside!” Remus replied, happily, giving no thought to Janus’s admonishment.

Janus glared at him and carefully unfolded the paper. He squinted at it, and as he’d anticipated, that was way worse than the screen. Maybe the reader was worth his money after all. Or maybe Remus’s handwriting was just horrendous.

He squinted at it for a few moments and then looked back up. He blinked at his surroundings. The note had said ‘Go home. Work ended hours ago.’ and that certainly seemed accurate considering he and Remus were the only people left in the office.

“I still have to finish this report about the New Easter Island mission,” he said to Remus.

“I’ll do it,” Remus offered. “You’ve been working without a break for hours, and I probably owe the agency some time since I took a coffee break to 22nd century France this afternoon.”

“You what?” Janus asked.

”They have the best coffee,” Remus said, and then grinned wolfishly, “and the best guys.”

“Stop doing that stuff,” Janus hissed. “You’re lucky I haven’t reported you already.”

“You wouldn’t,” Remus said, very sure of himself. “You like me too much. Plus, without me, you’ll forget to go home and sleep every night. So, it’d be a loose-loose. Now up! It’s time for you to go home.”

Janus sighed and stood. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going, but that report better be done like you said, or I will report you for your coffee excursions.”

“Sure, you will,” Remus said. “Now shoo.”

Janus spared him one more glare before standing from his desk and waving his hand through the air. The machine at his wrist buzzed softly and the display screen lit up around him. He jabbed a finger at the last of the three pre-set locations and, with a feeling like he’d just stepped into a pool of softened butter, he was home.

He groaned and fell back onto his couch immediately. “Time?” he asked.

“1:57am,” a soft voice said from his ceiling. He groaned. Considering the agency liked to keep their schedules aligned even though his house sat almost 2 millennia before the agency even existed, he’d have to be up in 4 hours to head back to work. They said it was to ‘stop them from experiencing time jet lag’ and ‘maintain their circadian rhythm,’ but with Janus it usually just ended up with him ‘not getting enough sleep’ and ‘suffering greatly.’

Sure, he had been fine with it, encouraged the policy even, when the agency was created, but that had been before he’d had to live it.

His stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before the mission he’d been on earlier that day. He was exhausted, but he also knew trying to go to bed this hungry would result in him not being able to sleep at all. He dragged himself to his feet and onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He didn’t want to wait for the auto cook feature to cook him something and he especially didn’t want to cook something himself, so he pressed a few buttons on the side of the counter and a protein infused, still cold pop-tart popped out of the table.

He thought it might be a Hot Fudge Sunday one, but he honestly couldn’t tell. The protein infusion made all of them taste rather horrible. For all he knew, it was one of the Burnt Rubber flavored ones Remus had once snuck into his pantry. To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d went to go stock his pantry and realized that there was half a box of those things. It was just another example of Remus using time travel for things he shouldn’t. They were a year 2513 delicacy.

The 2510s were an odd set of years.

He chewed on the possibly chocolate, possibly rubber flavored pastry and glanced out of the window. Though it was dark, one could still see the water of the man-made lake his home sat on thanks to the floating lights that hovered above it. Each agent working for the TPI received a home and alternate identity in a time and location of their choice. (Within reason, that is. Remus’s request to live among the dinosaurs was quickly denied and new rules were put into place immediately after.) Janus had chosen the late 24th century with a moderately sized home on Lake BlueBox. He didn’t have many close neighbors, but the ones he did know thought he was an accountant who went by the name of Declan Banks.

No, he had not chosen the last name. Yes, everyone got those types of names. The people at the Agent Management Office had a sense of humor or were just not creative. Janus only knew one employee in the AMO and he’d been avoiding him for the past three years as much as possible. Cowardly, maybe, but he knew if he gave the man too much information about his general lifestyle, he’d be dragged into the AMO to talk about his mental state and feelings, and honestly, that would make everything worse.

As soon as he finished the pop-tart, a glass of water popped up from the table making him jump despite the fact that he had been the one to set it to do that automatically years ago. He downed half of the water and picked up the glass to take it to his bedroom. He should probably clean himself off before bed, but he couldn’t be bothered today, and just stripped off his uniform and collapsed into bed in his underwear. The morning was going to come far too soon, he knew. Yet, his mind would not quiet. His brain kept filling out the report he trusted (well, hoped he could trust) Remus had already finished by now.

He eventually groaned and rolled over in bed. “Play something,” he requested. The screen by the side of his bed lit up.

“Randomizing the ‘Something’ video playlist,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.

A dance recital which he knew had been recorded in 2033 started playing. The images moved on the screen in front of him, but the sound drifted from all around him. He let his eyes linger over the way the dancers’ bodies moved as the sounds washed over him. The image of elegantly twisting limbs remained in his head long after his eyelids drifted shut and he finally fell asleep.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

[allsassnoclass]

i hate that i didn't say hi in that last request. HI hazel what do you think about!! "MY MOM KNITTED YOU A JUMPER" for malum? that sounds like the malum i love!! love u <3

hello hello hello here you go!

Ficmas Day 4

Rating: General Audiences

Read on AO3

Christmas in London is very different from Christmas in Australia.  For one thing, there’s snow on the ground.  It’s not much, tramped over by boots and mixed with the dirt to create sludge along the streets, but it’s still present on the ground.  For another thing, it’s cold.  Australian temperatures can dip down in winter, but by December it’s warm again, summer sun heating skin from the moment you step outside.  It’s strange to be at the end of December and have to put on a coat outside.  It’s also a little colder than Australia ever gets, and Michael finds himself seeking out blankets inside the house and shoving beanies over his hair before he sets foot outside.

It’s also different because Liz is the only parent around.  All of them had to barter extensively with their parents to convince them to even let them come to London, and once they realized they probably wouldn’t have Christmas together it prompted a new flurry of discussions about the exact timeline of the move.  In the end, professional interest won out over familial traditions, and Michael isn’t upset about heading to London early, but he’s careful not to mention the ache of loneliness in his stomach when he calls home.

He’s not really lonely.  He has Calum, Luke, and Ashton, and Liz ensures that they all eat actual meals and get enough sleep and always have someone to turn to when they need a motherly hug.  They have a little fake tree with some lights and generic ornaments on it, and Liz has been snatching packages as soon as the post delivers them, shifty about the contents inside.  Michael isn’t worried about gifts, because being in London is his Christmas present, and it’s kind of nice to get the full Northern-Hemisphere-Winter-Experience shown in all of the movies.

It would be worse if he didn’t have Calum.  It would be worse if he didn’t have all of them, but Calum has always felt like home in a way that few other people ever will.  He’s been Michael’s best friend through thick and through thin, and he’s the one who brought Luke into their life and who’s agreement to do the band kick-started their process.  Michael can always count on him to cheer him up on bad days and share his happiness on good ones, and living in London is a lot like an extension of the sleepovers they’ve been having since before they hit double-digits.  The biggest difference is that they’re in separate beds rather than piled sleeping bags on the floor.

On Christmas Eve, Michael wakes up late and spends a long time laying in his bed, debating whether he should bother getting up or let himself melt into his mattress.  Luke and Liz had plans for the day that they had suggested dragging everyone else along for, but Luke’s bed is empty and Michael can’t hear other activity in the house, so they probably left already.  Michael doesn’t mind.  He’s been tramping around London a lot lately, and a day to recharge is fine with him.

When his stomach finally growls, he heaves himself out of bed, throwing back the covers and shivering at the change in air temperature.  He needs socks.  He needs long sleeves.  It's winter in England, and that is not conducive to getting out of bed right now.

He manages to find socks that smell clean and a t-shirt that seems passable.  Hunger pushes him towards the kitchen before an acceptable hoodie can be found, but he can always sneak into the other room and steal one of Calum's.  Calum's hoodies tend to be some of the most comfortable, and he guards them carefully.  He always lets Michael keep it on if he's caught wearing one, though, which is more than can be said for the other two.

Calum enters the kitchen once Michael's toast pops.  Michael has an irrational fear that the toaster popping will startle him bad enough to bite the tip of his tongue off, so he's partially thankful that Calum makes his appearance then and distracts him, even if his presence startles him more than the toast ever could.

"I didn't know you were home," he says in answer to Calum's raised eyebrows.

"Liz took Luke and Ashton.  They'll be gone all day."

"Doing what?"

Calum shrugs.  "I think Liz is still getting presents for the family to send for New Years and wanted Luke to help.  Ashton just likes being out of the house."

Ashton is probably trying to find gifts for his own family.  Michael already sent some kitschy souvenirs for his parents, although they haven’t reached Australia yet.  He'll get them something better later, when he actually figures out what they would appreciate.

"Toast?" he offers.

"I'm making noodles," Calum says.

"Can I have some?"

"Yeah, okay."

Michael hums and slumps against him.  Everyone should have a Calum in their lives.  He's a space heater and a chef and a great bassist rolled into one, and he's pretty low maintenance.  Michael only has to give him undying love to get all of the perks.

They keep a comfortable silence while Calum cooks and Michael eats, enjoying existing together rather than filling the air with mindless chit chat.  Michael takes a shower when he finishes his toast, and Calum has the noodles ready when he's done.  After lunch, they migrate to the living room, taking advantage of the empty house to finally play Fifa uninterrupted.  Calum wins more than Michael, but he's not mad about it however much he pretends to be.  Calum is often humble to a fault, so Michael is happy to let him rub these victories in his face.

Calum goes to check the mail while Michael gets more snacks.  He comes back with two packages, one that he distractedly puts on the couch and another that he looks at curiously.  It's bigger than a shoe box, taped together securely over some colorful paper.

"What's that?" Michael asks.

"From my mum," Calum says.  "Your mum sent Liz something."

"What?  What is it?"

"I don't know," Calum says.  "It's a crime to open someone else's mail."

"But it's from my mum."

"Maybe she and Liz gossip about you.  If it's meant for you, you'll get it tomorrow."

Michael pouts.  Calum is, unfortunately, very resistant to his pouting.  He also takes the package and makes Michael put it in Liz's room before Michael can get too curious and start shaking it.  He could still peak, but then he'd have to contend with Calum's disappointed face.  That's not something anyone should have to face on Christmas Eve.

"Michael!" Calum calls from the living room.  "Get out here!"

"Why?"

"Mum sent you something!"

Michael leaves the package on Liz's bed and tramps back to the living room.  Calum grins and holds up a dark blue sweater with two white stripes stretching around it.

"My mum knit you a jumper!"

"For me?" he asks.  Calum nods enthusiastically.

"Put it on," Calum says.  "She wants a picture."

He holds out the jumper, letting Michael slip his hands in the arms and helping him pull it over his head.  It's a little big, spacious and comfortable, and the yarn is soft.  Michael doesn't know the difference between any of the stitches, but they're fun and feel fancy.

"She said she made it big so we can grow into them."

Calum pulls another jumper out, just like Michael's except in green.  When he puts it on, Michael resists the urge to help fix his hair, unruly from the static.

"I can't believe your mum knit me a jumper," Michael says.

"She's going to do one for Luke and Ashton, too, but she wanted to get yours done quickly.  She said you're an ice cube in our winters, so she was worried about how you were handling this one."

Michael feels a rush of affection for Joy Hood.  The entire Hood family is his favorite family besides his own, even without considering the fact that Calum is his favorite person.

Calum snaps a selfie, tilting his phone so they both fit in frame.  Michael presses close, faces centimeters away, and ensures that his grin is bright and happy, trying to push as much gratitude into one picture as possible.  Calum doesn’t step away while he sends it and Michael once again leans against him.

“Tell her I love it,” he says, looping his arms around Calum’s waist.  He slips his hands under the hem of Calum’s shirt and presses them against his stomach, making him squirm and swear.

“Get your icicle hands off me!” he laughs, but Michael has a grip now and doesn’t let him go until they’re tumbling onto the couch in a tangled, giggly mess.

“Still want to play another round?” Calum asks once he catches his breath.  Michael considers it, but he can’t properly cuddle with Calum if he has to hold a game controller, so he shakes his head.

“Movie?” he suggests instead.  Calum shrugs and grabs the remote, shutting down the game and switching the input so they can browse through Netflix.  Michael stretches out and Calum fits himself against him, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to cover their legs.  It’ll probably get too warm about thirty minutes into whatever they decide to watch, but for now it’s perfect.  Michael tucks himself lower into his sweater and pulls Calum closer to him, savoring every piece of warmth he can get.

[feralquirks]

“Are you sure about this?”

“Um… Absolu- uh, A-absolutely nn-not.”

“Is this safe?”

“Ff-for us? Nuh-, uh, no.”

“Okay…”

“…”

“…”

“Let’s do this.”

Hand in hand, Kaede and Izuku stood at the edge of the newly re-fixed nature pool that Korosensei had rebuilt after the whole Itona Strikes Again fiasco not too long ago. Not surprisingly, Korosensei managed to fix it again. “Again” because a day later, it had been un-fixed by some no-good delinquents - by total accident! It was an accident. Deeefinitely wasn’t Izuku trying to test how fast Megu and Isogai could swim and which one was the fastest. Totally NOT his fault, in fact, it was destiny, dare he say! Of course those two would go barreling toward the dam so fast, they couldn’t stop, and well wouldn’t you know it, how’d that dam break??

Ahem.

Anyway. There they were, almost a month later (they had stalled the entire time) standing by the edge of the nature pool, swimming tubes around their waists, floaties strapped around their arms, noodles held in both their hands—both green, as well—with goggles donned over their eyes, swimming caps keeping their forest hair concealed and of course, swim fins fastened to their feet. And if anyone thought that wasn’t overkill enough, they also had kick boards waiting on the sideline with snorkels and other character-shaped float devices already blown up and ready for use in case all else failed. (Kaede picked out the giant swan while Izuku brought up the flamingo)

“One,” they both counted together. “Two… Three!”

“Not so fast—” came a voice just as two hands grabbed the back of Izuku’s shirt and Kaede’s one-piece swimsuit right before the two tried to jump into the water.

They were held in the air like cats by the scruff, All Might holding them with his signature smile never leaving. In fact, Izuku would venture to say he had a rather smug glint to his teeth. Cheeky. How nice.

“Aaaaall Miiiiight,” the children whined.

“Now, now, you both know the rules when using the Class E pool! Always have adult supervision!” Slowly, the hero-slash-teacher set the two down, but never let go of them—instead transferring his hands to both their shoulders to keep them in place. “Especially you two.”

“But Aaall Miiiiiiiiight,” Kaede whined some more while Izuku groaned in dismay. It was no secret Kaede and Izuku were the worst swimmers in class—they knew why Kaede couldn't swim after her whole… thing, but only a spare few had any real guesses as to why Izuku couldn't. It was traced back to his childhood trauma—the sludge villain.

Those who had eavesdropped when he had explained himself to Korosensei that day with the pudding explosion knew at least. No one brought it up to Izuku, though, of course. What would they say anyway? Hey, Izukun, real quick—is the reason why you can't swim because of that run in with that one sludge villain when you were tiny? Are you afraid of drowning, is that why you never learned how to swim? Yeah, like that'll go over well. Sure, just casually bring up Izuku's trauma like that, mhm.

Izuku never would confirm nor deny it anyway. He was an enigma like that, which was fine—it was his business and no one else’s.

Izuku kicked at the grass, his arms crossed in indignation. "Then why nn-not you sup-ss-suh, um-"

" Supervise ,” Kaede offered softly.

Izuku pointed at her. "Yeah, tha'."

All Might stared at them for a solid ten seconds, making them squirm in their skin almost. Then he clapped loudly. "EXCELLENT IDEA, MY BOY! Give me a moment to change my clothes, then!"

"Oh, that's not-"

And he was off, hiding behind a tree to change into his one-piece secretly.

"Oh, he's gonna do it like that, huh…"

"Don't look!"

"S… Sir, did-did you, uh, come here wuh-with the, uh. In-intuh-in… mmm… Why??"

"A hero is always prepared for anything, my boy!"

Izuku and Kaede shared a look before dissolving into giggles. All Might then stepped out from behind the tree, his one-piece swimsuit a dazzling red-white-and-blue with a large white star on his chest. How patriotic, and yet completely unsurprising. He had his hands on his sides, boasting his muscles proudly, as if that would help them feel better about him being their temporary lifeguard.

“Well, then children! How about it?!” he offered loudly, taking large strides back toward them. “Ready to jump in now?!”

Izuku opened his mouth, then paused. Both students glanced back to the water just behind them, and they could just feel the irrational fear beginning to crawl from their stomachs to their throats. Izuku swallowed and glanced to his friend. All the bravado and blind bravery they previously held had diminished after All Might had interrupted them and they had the chance to calm down.

Both students turned back to All Might, who smiled with them with the innocence of a waiting dog.

“Uh…”

“W-well, uh- y’see, All Mmm-Might, um…”

“Yes? Yes?” his voice came out so eager, ready to serve and teach something valuable or something. So excited.

They gave a strained smile. Well…

As if finally catching onto the air of the two, the hero snapped up straight, clapping his hands once. “OH! You must be waiting for me, aren’t you?! Fear not! I will guide you into the water! After all, no one expects an infant to simply jump into water for the first time!”

Did he just call us infants…? Kaede and Izuku glowered at All Might’s direction as they watched him ready himself with simple stretches.

“However; First thing’s first, children!” he began as he stretched his legs in a runner’s stance while his arms were pulled over his head. “It’s best to do your stretches before going in the water! Follow my lead, my students!”

And so that’s how they spent the next fifteen-twenty minutes after the two stripped themselves from their floating devices. Then after, they spent another three minutes putting everything back on while All Might drew himself into the water. It wasn’t even all that deep—only going to All Might’s belly button, if Izuku were to guess. All Might was a tall man, afterall (which, unfortunately, that would mean the water would go up to Izuku’s shoulders if he was lucky—not to mention Kaede would still be completely underwater if she stood from the bottom, huh…). But even so, staring at water and being in it were two different things—and being in the water and actually swimming in it were also two different things. It was… daunting. Yeah, he’ll say that.

All Might gestured for them to approach. “Come now, I’ll be sure to catch you!”

Kaede squirmed in her floaties, pulling at the straps of her swimsuit while Izuku wrung his hands and rolled his shoulders with anxiety. Kaede cleared her throat, “U-um, well—could, er—”

“We, well— it- is’lah-huhm-the fr’k-wat’r—fer-fer-fer-frick,” Izuku tried to assist before his brain started to once again trip his tongue over into dirt and he practically shoved his fist in his mouth to stop it from continuing to tumble down its hill.

Kaede pursed her lips and glanced away, obviously trying not to laugh at her friend’s stumble, but even Izuku seemed to be struggling with not laughing at himself as he looked down and pretended to kick something with those large flipper shoes of his. All Might paid it no mind, but there was no doubt there was any amusement in his expression as he wadded closer to the edge.

“Worry not!” All Might’s voice boomed again, giving both his hands to the children. And then, there was softness that came from his voice as his fingers just barely tapped on the students’. “Didn’t I say I would guide you through it? Give me your hands, everything is alright. I am here!”

There was hesitation, a stir of icky worms made of anxiety that squirmed in both their stomachs, tangling together into knots and adding a weight to their feet. Izuku swallowed down the feeling of choking and itching all over his body, while Kaede struggled to push away the feeling of stickiness wrapped around her body. It was completely irrational—there was nothing, absolutely no reason for them to behave this way, feel this way, and yet… All Might was being so patient with them, smiling encouragingly and waiting for them to make a decision, make a move…

Kaede sucked in a deep breath then, puffing her small chest up and tightening her hold on her swimsuit before taking All Might’s hand and letting him guide her slowly into the nature pool. He muttered softly to her as she gave sudden yelps of fear as she entered the water, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Don’t worry about touching the floor, just trust in your floaties. Keep holding my hand. That’s right, you’ve got it!”

Izuku pursed his lips in discomfort, his hands clenched tightly into the fabric of his shirt. How on earth did he think jumping in without any supervision was a smart idea before? Oh, no, that’s right, he knew it was stupid, they were just riding on high energy—the kind of energy that makes you think you can take down a tiger and then climb Mt. Everest. Yeah, definitely stupid.

All Might drifted Kaede to one of the noodles floating nearby, where she scrambled to reach for it before hugging it tightly to her chest and making grunts like she thought she would fall over, but the pro hero never stopped holding onto her hand. “You’ve got it?”

Kaede nodded, though she seemed like a terrified rabbit—frozen and just waiting.

“Good, good,” All Might then turned to Izuku, his other hand gestured toward him. “Are you ready, my boy?”

“Uh- um, um…” Izuku started to fidget a lot more then. His shoulders rolled this way and that and his jaw clenched and unclenched while his hands went from wringing each other to pecking and pulling at the thin skin on the back of one of his hands. Okay, Izuku, it’s now or never, right?! Now or never! And it’s just water, right!?! Like, it can’t KILL me, right?!?!?????  

He paused mentally.

Actually, me, don’t answer that!  

The curly haired boy swallowed then, clenching his hands to his sides before nodding and taking his mentor’s hand. Just like with Kaede, the teacher helped Izuku into the pool slowly, instructing him to sit on the edge and then slide in— and don’t worry about falling into the water, your floaties will help you, and so will I. Just keep holding my hand, I’ve got you. We’ll guide you over to the noodles, and I’ll get you the water boards too, if you want.

Izuku felt his stomach flip when half his body went underwater, but it never went past his chest. He couldn’t feel the bottom, and the water made the gravity of his body weird, but he supposed that was normal since water has a different density and did weird things anyway but—anyway.

“Kick your feet to move, alright?” the pro hero instructed patiently. For a moment, it seemed like Kaede nor Izuku wanted to even move, in fear of slipping from the safety of the floaty around their chests and arms and into the water, but then Izuku started to kick his feet underwater. One kick, two kick—he wasn’t angled right, so he wasn’t going anywhere fast, but it was a kick in the right direction and he had edged toward the noodle he wanted to grab with his left hand while his right hand was clamped tightly around All Might’s.

All Might smiled proudly at the two—it didn’t seem like either of them were really going to be learning anything just yet, but the effort they were displaying was more than enough to show that they were hard workers and ready to learn. And facing a fear like this, no matter how small it was, was a big step on its own, and the hero couldn’t have been more proud of them.

The three of them spent a good while in the nature pool, not really swimming or learning how to swim, but just getting used to the water—just learning that it wasn’t a danger. It wouldn’t bite them, wouldn’t try and kill them… just that it existed and was there. So they floated around each other, still attached to All Might’s hands or arms and once in a while batting the other with their noodle and laughing over how when Izuku blew into one end of the noodle, water would jet out the other suddenly and hit Kaede or All Might in the face.

When that had happened the first time, that’s when All Might knew they had broken the ice with their fear of the water, and he couldn’t stop smiling with his two students.

[sunshineoptimismandangels]

Auto Shops, Show Tunes and Happiness (A Klaine Fic)

Pairing: Klaine Word Count: 6069 Status: Complete For: The lovely @coffeegleek Beta: The best beta ever! @theatrevicki Summary: This is for coffeegleek who prompted: Kurt has had to take over his dad's shop & Blaine comes to get his car fixed, hears Kurt singing - AU meet cute, they're 20-30+. Maybe Kurt does local community theatre. 

AO3 | FF.net

Kurt looked around his father’s tidy, but worn, office, taking a deep breath and preparing for the day. It smelled like motor oil and exhaust fumes. It didn’t matter if Kurt kept the door that separated the office from the garage closed, the smell still lingered. The walls even had a dingy gray look to them from years of exposure, and it didn’t matter that Kurt had spent the first few days here cleaning and scrubbing; the office still felt grimy and a bit forlorn – something he never really noticed when his father was here.  

At least the office was well organized. Burt may not have always been as orderly as he was now, but raising a methodical and somewhat finicky son all on his own had taught him well. Kurt was pleased to find that there was a new computer program on Burt’s laptop to help keep up with employee schedules and part ordering and accounts, even if the old metal filing cabinets that Burt was partial to still lined the back wall. He was also pleased to see the garage itself in top shape, well organized and stocked. Steve, the floor manager, did a great job keeping on top of things. All in all, Kurt was surprised at how easy it was to slip into the role of “garage owner.” He helped his dad out a lot in the shop growing up; he knew his way around an engine and the difference between a crosshead piston and a slipper piston, and management was something he was used to anyway. In fact, even on the busiest days, the pace at Hummel Auto Repair was nothing compared to the mad and frantic schedule of a New York fashion house. Kurt could almost convince himself he was on summer vacation working here. It was giving him plenty of time to work on his script for an original musical by one Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, he was able to visit with some old friends, and he was volunteering at the local community theater. All of this, plus the knowledge of how much his dad needed this time away, helped subdue his longing for New York – a little at least. It was hard to be away from New York, his plans, and his aspirations for the whole summer. Everything in Kurt’s life was on hold for his father’s sake. Kurt was keeping busy, sure, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his dad, but this summer didn’t feel like anything less than a postponement of his real life. Kurt sat down behind the metal desk in his father’s office and smiled faintly as he flipped the page on the “Quote A Day” calendar on his father’s desk – the one Carol had bought Burt as a stocking stuffer last Christmas. Kurt thought it was cheesy at first, but his father always made sure it was up-to-date, so Kurt had been flipping it for him daily in his absence, and as it turned out, Kurt enjoyed the daily inspiration. Today’s quote was as clichéd and amusing as ever. “Happiness is not something you postpone for the future; it is something you design for the present.” Kurt looked at the quote for a moment, head tilted as he worried his bottom lip. Funny that these words would spring up at a time when he was feeling particularly stuck in life. He wasn’t trying to postpone his happiness; it was just that life in Lima was a bit… stalled. Then again, had he really been that happy before he left New York? When Burt had finally – after many arguments with Kurt and supplications from Carole – agreed to let Kurt work at the garage for three months, thereby keeping him away from his job in New York during that time, he had sighed and said, “Well, maybe it will be good for both of us, bud? I get a break and you can maybe clear your head. Maybe try and figure out what you really want to do?” Kurt had begrudgingly agreed; after college, Kurt had felt like the world was at his feet, but a few years of working in fashion with little reward or job growth and auditioning for roles that just weren’t right for him, Kurt had decided to try a hand at writing. If roles weren’t out there for him, he’d just have to create some of his own, but it didn’t take long for him to lose his bluster and inspiration. He hadn’t written a word of his script in months, and even his work at the fashion house in New York was just by rote at this point. Kurt had a good life and he knew he should be grateful, but he felt like he was missing something. His father was right, maybe this time away from the hum and bustle of New York would help him find out what that was.    This cheesy little calendar was going to be his push, for today at least, to not put off happiness. He needed to let himself be inspired, to look for happiness around him, to plan for it. Maybe that would work, maybe it wouldn’t, but it was worth a try. Kurt looked up from the desk as he heard Steve enter the garage and start lifting the doors to open the shop. Oh yeah. Auto Repair Shop. Lima, Ohio. Not a great deal of inspiration in that; still, Kurt wasn’t going to let that ruin his good mood and newfound determination. Kurt said good morning to Steve and the rest of the crew as they came in before starting the coffee pot because, while he was in charge, only Jenny and he were allowed to make coffee – everyone else made sludge. He also helped with a brake repair and a couple of oil changes when they were shorthanded, and then he went back to his dad’s office with his second mug of coffee as they closed up for lunch. He was eating the chicken out of a chicken and cranberry spinach salad while going over some accounts when his head jerked up at a sound from what he thought was the empty garage. Kurt leaned forward and listened, everyone was grabbing a bite to eat, and aside from one busy hour first thing this morning, it had been a slow day… but was that singing Kurt heard? Did someone leave the radio on? Kurt put down his fork and stood from the desk, making sure the chair behind him slid out quietly before he started towards the doorway. Yes, that was someone singing. And no, it was definitely not the radio. “Ten Minutes Ago I saw you, I looked up when you came through the door. My head started reeling, you gave me the feeling, the room had no ceiling or floor.” Kurt swallowed deeply, the rich warm timbre of the voice drifted softly from the empty garage, causing Kurt’s heart to speed up. A smooth tenor voice always had a way of making his knees weak, but this one was making his knees weak and his heart stutter. Kurt walked through the doorway and poked his head around an SUV the crew had left up on the car lift.   “And he's taking me back to the skies. In the arms of my love I'm flying, over mountain and meadow and glen. And I like it so well that for all I can tell I may never come down again! I may never come down to earth again.” There, at the opposite side of the garage, was a man walking slowly up and down the length of the room, his fingers softly trailing over the rack of tires by the wall. He was wearing sand-colored slacks rolled up past his ankles and an Egyptian blue polo shirt that made his tan skin stand out beautifully. His hair was dark and curly, and out of his upturned lovely red lips, the last flawless strands of “Ten Minutes Ago” floated sweetly through the air. Kurt watched in awe, not yet able to find his own voice as he hid partially behind the SUV and just stared. The man must have eventually sensed someone nearby because he looked up, and to Kurt’s great dismay, cut off the last few notes of his song. “Oh.” The man’s dark eyebrows rose in surprise. “I was just…” Kurt stumbled trying to think of an excuse for spying, “I heard you from the back and…” “I didn’t think anyone was here.” The man’s look of surprise morphed into a dazzling smile as his eyes took Kurt in, from his shoes to the top of his carefully styled hair. Kurt flushed and squirmed anxiously as he looked down at himself, remembering he was wearing a dirty gray jumpsuit and canvas sneakers that had oil stains all over them. Oh god. Kurt unconsciously brushed imaginary grime off his cheek and then looked back up at the man who was still smiling at him. “Everyone is at lunch. How did you get in?” Kurt blurted out – not at all what he’d meant to say. The man’s smile dropped and Kurt immediately missed it even more than his singing. “I’m so sorry.” The man lifted his hands in contrition and started walking towards the side door, which was standing open. “I parked out front and saw this door open and thought someone would be here, and when it was empty, I figured someone would be back soon, so I just stayed here waiting, and I didn’t mean to intrude, and I guess I should have known you were closed, and I’m so sorry to trouble you.” The man explained all of this in one breath and honestly, he was adorable when flustered. “No. No.” Kurt quickly moved towards him, not wanting the man to leave. “It’s fine. I was just surprised. Everyone else is at lunch and they must have forgotten to lock up.” “I can go… or well I can’t go… my car is barely driving. I didn’t think I was even going to make it here, but I can just wait out front until you’re open.” Kurt shook his head and smiled, “Honestly, there’s no need for that.” The man had stopped by the door, not moving away, and just watched Kurt a little helplessly. “I can take a look at your car myself,” Kurt offered, happy for any chance to talk to this man a little longer. That infectious smile took over the man’s face again and goddamnit he was attractive. “Really?” Kurt nodded, smiling again himself, as he unlocked one of the big garage doors and rolled it up to open the garage. There was an Audi A3 parked out front that the man walked to, his keys now jingling in his hand. “What seems to be the problem?” “Um, it won’t drive? Or barely. I can’t get it over 20 and it stalls at most red lights and stop signs. It feels like fuel isn’t getting through to the... to the… wherever fuel needs to get to? Could it be a fuel line problem… thing?” Kurt bit his lip and tried not to laugh; this man was becoming increasingly adorable and very clearly had no idea what he was talking about. The man shrugged in defeat, “I guess I just hope it isn’t the transmission.” Kurt reached out a hand for the keys, “Can I drive it around the block? You can ride with me. That will give me a better idea of what’s going on.” The man nodded and smiled, placing the keys in Kurt’s hand, their fingertips lightly brushing as he pulled away. Kurt wanted to roll his eyes at himself over the shiver that ran through his body at the touch. Get a grip Kurt – he’s not that devastatingly handsome… I mean, okay he is, but still. Kurt got in the driver’s side of the immaculately clean Audi, and the man – Kurt really should ask his name – buckled in on the passenger side. It took a few tries for the engine to turn over, all the while the man furrowed his brow and actually ran his hand over the car’s dashboard whispering, “You can do it baby.” Wow, why did the word ‘baby’ coming from this man’s lips make Kurt’s stomach flip over? And why was he just so dang cute? Talking to his car? It should be cheesy but instead it was endearing. As soon as the car started, music began blaring from the speakers. “Oh god! I’m sorry. My brother is always telling me I’m going to lose my hearing listening to music so loud.” The man’s face was bright red as he quickly turned down what Kurt immediately recognized as a Lady Gaga song.  The man shook his head minutely looking embarrassed and Kurt tried to stifle another smile as he backed away from the auto shop. “I, um, I really appreciate you helping me out on your lunch break…” The man leaned forward a little bit looking at Kurt, “Jenny? Thanks so much… Jenny.” Kurt was driving down the road, not able to go any more than 15 mph – the car really did have something wrong with it – but he was distracted from the car by the fact that this stranger had just decided to call him by—well, what was usually--a woman’s name. “Jenny?” Kurt said, glancing momentarily away from the road. “What are you trying to say here?” Kurt had been called “girl names” as insults for his entire life. He never did understand why that would be considered an insult, but the intent still ruffled his feathers, especially now because he’d been nothing but nice to this man, and he was even sitting here thinking how cute he was, but no he decides to be ru- “Your name, on the jumpsuit? It says Jenny.” The man explained, “I know that’s typically a female name, but I didn’t want to assume.” Kurt glanced down to the coveralls he was wearing—Jenny’s coveralls. The coveralls he wore years ago when he still lived in Lima didn’t fit him anymore, he was broader chested now and had stronger arms. Though he had some new coveralls on order, until they arrived, Kurt was borrowing a pair from the only person in the shop whose size was the closest to his—Jenny. Kurt had forgotten.   “Oh god.” Kurt moaned. “Yeah, no, these are borrowed.” He used a moment while stopped at a stop sign to turn towards the man and held out his hand. “Kurt Hummel of Hummel Auto Repair.” The man was smiling again as he took Kurt’s hand, his long lashes conspicuous as his looked down with a stain of red on his cheeks. “Sorry about that. I…” He looked up slowly with beautiful hazel eyes that made Kurt feel warm around the collar and made his stomach feel like jelly. “I’m Blaine Anderson.” Kurt wet his lips and kept hold of the man’s… of Blaine’s hand. Blaine didn’t pull away. They just stared at each other, both smiling. The barely audible notes of, “Speechless” drifted around them. Blaine blushed. Kurt opened his mouth to try to say something. And the car died. It took Kurt a moment to realize why everything had gone so quiet, he thought for a split second that time itself had stopped… but that was ridiculous. He let go of Blaine’s hand and looked down at the tachometer that read zero. “Yeah, there’s something wrong with your car.” Blaine laughed, and Kurt’s head shot up again at the heartfelt, sweet sound of it. “I mean. I think I know what the problem is.” Kurt explained as he started the car again and drove them back to the auto shop, grateful that they were forced to drive so slowly because he didn’t want this trip to be over. He didn’t want to give Blaine his prognosis and send him on his way, and he was frantically trying to think of ways to make his time with Blaine last longer. They pulled into the garage and Kurt shut off the car, getting out with what he hoped was a graceful little hop. “I think it’s just a sensor problem. Sometimes the sensors think there’s something wrong with the car, so it won’t let it drive. I’ll run a diagnostic to be sure, but if that’s what it is, then it’s a quick and inexpensive fix. I just have to order the part.” “So not the fuel… whatever or the transmission?” Blaine asked, rubbing the back of his neck and grinning coyly. Oh my god, Blaine had better be gay because if he wasn’t, Kurt’s heart was going to break. Not that Lady Gaga and Rodgers and Hammerstein were a sure sign of anyone’s sexuality, but Kurt had to hope. “No, nothing that bad.” Kurt grinned. Blaine watched as Kurt used a code reader to run a diagnostic on the car, asking questions and complimenting Kurt’s expertise the whole time. Kurt loved it. Normally, Kurt would have thought it annoying to have someone hover over him while he worked, but Blaine was just… so… sincere in his praise and eager to learn and… well drop-dead gorgeous, that Kurt couldn’t mind his company. “Yeah, it’s just a sensor,” Kurt said, unplugging the reader and having trouble not staring at Blaine’s stunning eyes. When was the last time he’d had such an immediate and intense attraction to someone? Kurt couldn’t even remember. And Blaine just seemed to get more attractive the longer he was here because he was a gentleman and friendly and apparently didn’t stop smiling. “Let me look into how long it will take to get you the part you need and I can call you… or you could um, wait?” Kurt said, chuckling nervously under his breath, “You could come back to my office with me while I look it up?” And why did that sound like a proposition!? Kurt just wanted to spend more time with Blaine, not go down on him… and okay! Time to nip that thought in the bud. “That sounds great!” Blaine beamed, apparently not picking up on the dirty thoughts that Kurt was trying to push out of his head, “I have to call a Lyft to get home anyway, I have time!” That was a good sign because either Blaine was strangely passionate about auto shops, or he wasn’t ready for this… whatever this was… to end either. Kurt cleared off the half-eaten salad from his desk, and pulled a chair for Blaine. He sat down and then blushed prettily as his stomach growled. “Have you had lunch?” Kurt asked and when Blaine shook his head, Kurt strode to the little refrigerator in the office. “I have some chicken, cranberry spinach salad.” He pulled out a Tupperware container. “If you want some? I made too much this morning anyway.” What was he doing? Who offered someone a homemade lunch right after you met them? That was weird! “I actually did interrupt you in the middle of your lunch, didn’t I? I’m so sor-“ “Really, you don’t have to apologize,” Kurt interrupted. Blaine’s eyelashes fluttered and Kurt didn’t know if he was doing that on purpose or not, but it was working on Kurt, his heart thudded at the sight. “In that case I’d love some salad.” Kurt grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and a fork and let Blaine serve himself before sitting beside him by the desk. “Now let’s find that part for you, Blaine.” Kurt had to duck his head to keep Blaine from seeing the heat on his cheeks – Blaine’s name on Kurt’s tongue felt right. He loved saying it. He wanted to say it again. To test it out. To say it louder, to whisper it softly. Kurt kept stealing glances at Blaine as he looked up the sensor’s part number, trying to think of a way to start a real conversation. “This salad is delicious.” Blaine said, “You really are going out of your way with the customer service here.” Kurt smiled at him, “Consider it payment for your serenade earlier,” Kurt answered, “You have a gorgeous voice, I’d love to sing a duet with you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to pull them back. Smooth Kurt, really smooth, you are verging on Rachel Berry levels of awkwardness here. “Thank you,” Blaine laughed, not seeming phased by Kurt’s forwardness. “I sang in school.” “High school?” “And college.” “But not anymore?” Blaine shrugged, “Just for fun. Karaoke with friends, a little at home at my piano, and you know, very loudly in the car,” He winked, “Singing in the shower, stuff like that.” Kurt nodded, trying very, very hard not to picture Blaine singing in the shower. “I sang in high school and college too. Musical Theater Major in fact,” Kurt said proudly. Blaine’s eyes widened and he unconsciously looked around the little offshoot office they were sitting in. “Musical Theater… to auto mechanic?” “Oh, this is just temporary.” “Well yes, of course,” Blaine said with mock gravity and a smile twitching at his lips, “Which is why the shop is named after you.” Blaine’s eyes danced as he teased Kurt. Kurt found himself smiling widely at Blaine’s obvious misunderstanding – and was he flirting? He seemed a little flirty. Either that or everything Blaine did and said was just so freaking charming that Kurt was reading into it. “It’s my dad’s shop.” Kurt explained, “I’m helping out for the summer.” “Ah, so you grew up with all of this?” “I did, my dad taught me.” “My dad tried to teach me about cars once.” Blaine’s continuous smile slipped just a bit, but only for a moment, “As you can probably tell nothing really stuck. Where is your dad today? Day off?” “Um… that’s actually why I’m here. He… he had a heart attack last month, his second in ten years. I’m covering for him.” “Oh god Kurt.” Blaine put down his salad, his teasing smile wiped from his face, as he placed a hand over Kurt’s on the desk, “God, I’m sorry to hear that. I shouldn’t have pried.” Kurt glanced down at their hands; Blaine’s was warm and soft with calloused fingertips, and the comforting touch made Kurt’s heart pound so loudly he was sure it would give him away. “I…” He looked up at Blaine again. “My dad’s doing fine now. Recovering really well actually. The doctor said he worked too hard and needed some time away, so Carole, my wonderful step mom, took him on an extended summer vacation. I knew he’d be just as stressed away from the shop, though, if he left anyone else in charge.” Kurt shrugged, “So here I am.”   “That’s… amazing.” Blaine’s eyes almost seemed misty, his voice earnest, “You’re an amazing son, Kurt.” Kurt’s heart fluttered hearing Blaine say his name with so much admiration, “No,” he shook his head, “I just have a really great dad.” Blaine smiled sweetly, his copper eyes sparkling as he squeezed Kurt’s hand before pulling away. Blaine finished his lunch and Kurt ordered the needed part mostly in silence. It was a comfortable silence though, something Kurt didn’t really experience with most people – he always felt like he had to say something, to fill the silence with words. With Blaine, it was just easy, it was nice. The only real problem was Kurt still couldn’t think of a way to see Blaine again. Outside of him picking up his car once the repair was complete. Eventually, Blaine had to leave because Kurt hadn’t come up with a good reason to have him stay. He ordered a Lyft and Kurt told him when his car would be ready and Blaine drove away just as the rest of the auto shop employees were getting back from lunch. Kurt stood in the garage staring at Blaine’s car with a small, happy smile on his lips. “Who was the dreamboat that just left?” Jenny asked, walking up to Kurt and the car. “Just a new client.” “Uh huh, and that is why you’re blushing and staring at a silver Audi like it just told you it had an extra ticket to… to… I don’t know… what’s a popular Broadway show right now?” “Waitress?” “Really? That’s a play?” Jenny shook her head. “Never mind, the point is you are obviously smiling because of the guy who just left.” Kurt bit his lip, “He really was a dreamboat wasn’t he?” “Yes.” “And he was sweet. And funny. And he can sing.” “What? What happens in this shop when I’m not here?” “I like him,” Kurt said dreamily. “You better ask him out when he comes to pick up his Audi, Kurt!” Jenny said with a laugh as she walked towards the car she was working on, “Or I will!” “You like girls!” Kurt called back and Jenny just laughed again. Why hadn’t Kurt asked him out? Wasn’t he just telling himself that morning not to postpone things, but to go after his own happiness, and then he just lets someone like Blaine walk away? Over the next two days, before Blaine’s car was fixed, Kurt thought about him nearly constantly. He even started writing his play again, a new character popping up, one with curly hair and a gorgeous tenor voice. Kurt called Blaine with his heart in his throat to let Blaine know he could pick his car up. Blaine was excited on the phone, happy to hear from him, and Kurt could only hope it wasn’t just because his car was ready. Kurt was determined; he was going to do it. When Blaine came for his car, he was going to ask him out. He wouldn’t miss his chance again. He’d been single for a little while now, but even before that, it was rare to meet someone that made Kurt feel this way. Made him want to tell them things that he usually didn’t talk about. It wasn’t like him to talk to a stranger about his father’s heart attack. Blaine made his skin buzz, Blaine made him realize that it wasn’t just work and auditions that Kurt had given up on recently, it was romance. And Kurt didn’t want to give up on romance. The strains of Blaine’s song from the other day came back to him. I have found him! He’s an angel…. In the arms of my love I'm flying, over mountain and meadow and glen. Kurt wasn’t foolish enough to think that an hour in Blaine’s presence was enough to make Kurt fall in love, but it did make him want to fall in love. He hadn’t felt that way in some time. So yes, Kurt would ask Blaine out for dinner or just drinks, or coffee, or something. He hadn’t worked out the details, but it was going to happen. The day ended up being crazy busy for no apparent reason; they had four oil changes, replaced a catalytic converter, had two dead batteries, a bad exhaust gas recirculation valve, and several pick-ups. Kurt was back in the office calling a customer with an update and nervously tapping his foot under the desk. Business was good, but he needed it to slow down before Blaine arrived so he’d have a chance to talk to him properly. To strike up a conversation and then ask him out. Kurt quickly finished the call when he thought he heard someone new enter the garage, but when he got out there, it was just his crew. He walked out front, his hands in his pockets, hoping Blaine would show up soon, it was slowing down a bit, this would be a good time… but instead of Blaine, Kurt saw something that made his heart leap to his throat. “Where is it!” Kurt called, running back into the garage. His employees looked at him in bewilderment. “Where it? The Audi A3? The silver one out front?” “Oh, I just checked that one out.” Steve slid out on a creeper from under a car. “The one with the new sensor? That guy just left. He asked for you, but I said you were busy with another customer.” Kurt’s hands flew to his hair, almost wanting to tug at the strands. “Why! Why would you say that!” “Because…” Steve stood up, wiping his hands on a greasy towel, “You were helping another customer?” A towel flew out of nowhere and hit Steve in the face. Steve looked stunned. “Kurt was going to ask him out!” Jenny shouted – clearly the one that flung the towel. Kurt groaned and held his head in his hands as the entire garage came to a standstill. “Oh boss.” Steve said, sounding honestly remorseful, “I didn’t know! I wouldn’t have… what’s that term when you get in the way of someone trying to make a move?” “Cockblock.” Jenny answered and Kurt groaned again. “Boss, I would not have cockblocked you if I knew.” Kurt let his hands drop to his side feeling completely defeated, “No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” “We have his phone number… you could call him?” Steve suggested. “That would be a completely inappropriate use of company resources.” Kurt said, wishing he could, “I can see the Yelp review now,” Kurt’s hand waved through the air as if reading an imaginary marquee, “Service great, but the owner may stalk you and call you on your personal number to try and get you to go out with him.” “I could call him.” Jenny tried, “Say we think we should check the car one more time… that we might have missed something?” Kurt shook his head, his heart sinking, “No, this is my dad’s shop and I can’t risk his reputation just because… just because…” Just because I may have met the most amazing man ever and I let him slip right by me. “Just because you got cockblocked.” Steve suggested. Another towel flew from Jenny’s direction and again hit Steve square in the face. Kurt shook his head, “Do you need me out here? If not, I’m going to finish up some paperwork.” “We got it Boss.” Jenny answered, and Kurt nodded, finding his way back to the office. So much for designing your own happiness. Kurt hadn’t even managed to ask a guy he really liked out. The rest of the afternoon drifted by Kurt, he may have gotten some work done, but he’d have to check over it again the next day because his mind wasn’t focused. He pulled Blaine’s record up on the computer, picked up the phone and almost called him half a dozen times, but he couldn’t think of a way to do that without being completely creepy and unprofessional. It would have been one thing to start a conversation with Blaine while he was here and then go for it – but using the phone number that Blaine had supplied the shop and not Kurt in order to ask him out? That was crossing a line. Kurt was the last one in the garage that evening. Jenny closed up, shooting Kurt a sympathetic smile before she left. Kurt tidied the office and checked the time. He didn’t have anything to do that evening, most of the friends he’d grown up with had moved away from Lima and were only here off and on to visit, and it was too late in Italy to try and Skype his dad. Kurt needed to get his head clear; maybe he’d grab some dinner and catch a movie. Nothing romantic. Because apparently romance wasn’t on Kurt’s side. He walked out front, keys in hand and not really paying attention, when he noticed a car pulling in. “Not now,” Kurt mumbled under his breath, “Can’t you see we’re closed?” Kurt put on his customer service smile ready to ask the person to come back in the morning when he recognized the car and his heart skipped a beat. Blaine parked his silver Audi and then got out of the car. He saw Kurt and smiled sheepishly at him, his hands in his pockets as he shuffled his feet. “I’ve caught you when you’re closed again haven’t I?” Kurt opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again smiling broadly, not sure what to say. “I can come back another time,” Blaine said, turning back to his car. “No!” Blaine spun around in surprise. “Is there something wrong?” Kurt asked quickly, trying to cover for himself, “Did we not fix your car?” “No. I mean, yes, you did. You did a great job.” Blaine pulled his hands out of his pockets, still holding his keys and fiddling with them nervously. “Um… I was going to tell you there was something else wrong with the car, but I couldn’t think of anything. I almost drained the oil out, but I wasn’t sure how to do that?” Blaine looked Kurt in the eyes, a slight smile on his otherwise nervous expression. “I almost slashed my own tire, Kurt. Just so I’d have an excuse to come back here.” Kurt took a few steps towards him, hope heavy in his chest. Oh my god, was this really happening? “Why on earth would you do that Blaine?” “I really wanted to see you this afternoon, but the shop was hopping and you were busy and I would have looked foolish just standing there waiting… not that I don’t look foolish now, but I just… I really wanted to…” “Blaine, will you go out with me?” Kurt said quickly, heart in his throat, worried to let another opportunity pass him by. Blaine stopped talking and his thick eyebrows shot up before his smile slowly grew until it took over his entire face, his stunning eyes crinkling with it. “Go out with you? On a… date?” Kurt had crossed the distance between them and was standing in front of Blaine now, hands in his own pockets so Blaine wouldn’t see how nervous he was. “I was completely crushed when I found out I’d missed you this afternoon. I’ve been planning on asking you out since you left the other day.” Blaine laughed, light and happy, the sound curling around Kurt’s heart and squeezing it pleasantly, “Me too! I should have asked you out then!” “Really?” Kurt wanted to jump for joy; it took everything in him to keep his feet on solid ground. “Really.” “Well then,” Kurt moved a couple inches closer, breath shallow with excited anticipation, “Is that a yes?” “Yes, Kurt Hummel of Hummel Auto Repair. I would really love to go out with you.” Kurt barked out a happy laugh and then covered his mouth in embarrassment, but Blaine just chuckled as if Kurt was the most adorable person in the world. “Are you free now? I owe you a meal after you provided my lunch the other day.” “Yes! I’m free.” Kurt’s stomach flipped over. “And I’d love to have dinner, but…” Blaine’s smile froze. “But could we drop by my place first? I walked to work, my dad’s house is just around the corner; I’d really like to change out of these coveralls. I promise I own better clothes.” Blaine just shook his head and smiled happiness nearly radiating off him. “You look cute in the coveralls,” Blaine teased, “but yes of course we can stop and let you change first.” He opened the passenger side door of his car, letting Kurt in before following suit on the other side. “You weren’t really going to slash your own tire were you?” Kurt asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Yes. I mean I would have. I had a whole series of repairs planned just so I could keep seeing you in case I chickened out of asking you on a date.” Kurt cheeks hurt he was smiling so hard, “Technically I asked you out.” “Well,” Blaine glanced at him mischievously, “I guess that means I’ll have to be the one to ask you out on our second date.” Kurt felt pleasantly warm from his head to his toes. Sometimes you planned for happiness and sometimes it walked into your auto shop singing show tunes. In any case, Lima didn’t seem like such a postponement of Kurt’s real life anymore.