A/N: I'm not sure I like this one.. :/ I love the concept, but as usual I don't think I did it justice. Translations are at the bottom.
:)
-MEOW-
Blaine Anderson skidded into the Hummel & Sons Body Shop parking lot in his brand-new white, '58 Chevrolet Impala. He checked his hair in the rear-view mirror, pulling a thin-toothed comb from his back jean pocket. He quickly fixed the gelled-back black curls so that just one slick curl fell on his forehead.
He threw open the Driver's side door and stepped out, throwing the door closed again with a simple jut of his hip.
He walked under the open garage door and into a cement floored room, with three cars being worked on, each hoisted onto blocks with a man underneath. Blaine stepped up to a black frog-eye with a pair of big, dark brown boots sticking out from underneath it, and nudged them with his foot. The man, who had been working diligently and hadn't heard Blaine come in, startled, and two rough-looking hands reached out from underneath the ugly-looking car and pulled him out into Blaine's view. The man stood up and grabbed a dirty cloth from the floor wiping his greasy hands on it. "What can I do for you?" The man asked, smiling. Blaine pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself and looked over the man in front of him. He had a long, dark blue jumpsuit on, with the name "Burt Hummel" embroidered in red thread on the right half of his chest,. He had a green cap on, covering his hair or lack thereof and he had an open, kind face.
"Blaine Anderson," Blaine reached out for the man's hand. The man promptly shook it. "Burt Hummel." He said, smiling. Blaine pointed to the parking lot, "My car." Blaine sighed, slightly annoyed. "It's brand new, but it keeps making this annoying noise and it just won't go away!"
Burt smiled sympathetically, "Well, all my boys are busy right now, but Kurt should be done soon and I'll have him take a look at it. Fair?"
Blaine nodded, "Fair."
Just then a boy cam out from around a corner holding a dirty cloth identical to the one Burt had used to clean his hands. The boy wore the same Blue jumper only it had been tied around his waist instead of zipped all the way up. A white, greased-stained tank top was tucked into it, revealing the boy's sleek, thin, delicate frame. His chestnut hair stuck up, but flipped down in the front, giving his face more of a heart shape, matching the shape of his pink lips. He stared down at his hands as he approached intensely trying to get the grease from between his fingers. "Dad," The beautiful boy's voice chimed in a delicate, feminine way. "The Dilerusso's Bug is running, they can come-" The instant the boy looked up, he stopped cold, staring at Blaine with his cloth frozen mid-swipe. Blaine cocked an eyebrow at the look the other boy was giving him. Burt cleared his throat inconspicuously and the boy shook his head, glancing repeatedly between the two men standing in front of him. "So..." he began awkwardly, "Who's your friend?" Burt chuckled knowingly, and Blaine stepped forward and offered a hand to Kurt who took it. "Blaine Anderson," Blaine smirked, holding his hand still. "Kurt Hummel." Blaine didn't drop Kurt's hand, but instead turned his own so that they were holding hands. "Here, I'll show you my car. Burt said you were the one to talk to." Blaine raised an eyebrow cockily at Kurt.
Kurt pulled his hand back and rolled his eyes. "What's the problem?"
"Isn't it your job to figure that out?" Kurt sighed, and lifted the hood. As Kurt leaned in, Blaine slyly walked directly behind him, giving him a perfect view of Kurt's ass.
After twenty minutes of grumbling, mumbling, and a little humming, Blaine decided to check on the situation. He stepped up right behind Kurt and leaned over so that his groin rubbed up against Kurt's ass. He whispered in his ear, "Find anything?" Kurt startled, throwing his entire body backward and his head into the propped up hood. He stumbled around a little and held his head. He glared at Blaine and pulled his hands from his hairline and Blaine watched as a little trickle of blood worked down Kurt's face. "Fuck." Kurt groaned as he held the greasy cloth to his new wound.
Blaine bit his lip, "You okay, Hummel?"
"I'll be fine," Kurt sighed, shaking his head slightly. He pulled the cloth from his face and dabbed at the tiny cut to make sure the bleeding had stopped. "There," He said, "Good as new."
When the cloth was fully away from Kurt's face, Blaine had to laugh. The boy was now covered in a mixture of blood and grease, making him look somewhat like a three-year-old in need of a bath. "What's so funny?" Kurt's lips were pursed and his hands were on his hips, which were cocked to the right as he tapped his left boot-clad foot on the floor. Blaine doubled over in laughter at the stubborn look, which made Kurt resemble a toddler even more.
Kurt rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fine, don't tell me. Anyway, it's lunch time. You hungry?" Blaine stood up straight and looked at his car worriedly. "It'll still be here after we eat. C'mon." Blaine nodded and walked into the Auto Body shop once more, this time with Kurt leading the way.
-MEOW-
They had burgers (some boy named Finn had brought them from Mindy's Diner, across the street) and they'd all sat on the dirty, greasy floor, hungrily slurping from their soda bottles and chomping on their fries. They sat in a loose circle, Blaine closer to Kurt than Burt, who sat on his other side, Finn in between Kurt and Burt, his eyes darting between Kurt and Blaine with an odd, protective look.
Burt gathered all of the wrappers and bottles and headed to the back of the garage as Kurt lead Blaine back out to his car. Blaine trailed behind and admired the view of Kurt's swinging hips. Kurt realized he was falling behind and stopped to let him catch up, but instead of walking beside him, Blaine pressed his body close up to Kurt's, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and breathing in the sharp, bitter aroma of motor oil. He pressed his nose into Kurt's neck, making him shudder slightly. "Thanks for lunch, Tutz," Blaine breathed, lips touching Kurt as they moved. "It was boss." He smirks into Kurt's neck, hands pulling at his tanktop.
Kurt grabs his hands, pulling him off in one quick motion. "Who do you think you are?" He snarls at Blaine. "I am not going to let some bindie nosebleed call me 'Tutz' and touch me! I'm not your Sophie! So take your little idea and ice it!"
He stormed out of the garage door and directly under the car.
-MEOW-
Blaine kicked at the boots sticking out from under the car. "Look, Kurt, I'm sorry." He scratched the back of his neck and scuffed his feet on the ground. Two delicate, greasy hands appeared, grabbing the bottom of the driver-side door. Kurt pulled himself out from underneath the car, sitting up and glaring at Blaine.
"I'm not any good at this shit, Kurt. Apple butter isn't my thing, and.." He stopped and squatted, looking directly into Kurt's eyes, less than a foot away from his face. "It's not that I think you're my Sophie, and I shouldn't have touched you like that, but I really like you." Blaine bobbed his head and smiled, eyes hopeful.
Kurt rolled his eyes, but smiled. He leaned in really close, lips open ever-so-slightly, head tilting gently, eyes drooping to Blaine's lips. They were only millimeters apart. Blaine's breathing quickened, his heart thumping. Kurt grabbed the wrench on the table behind Blaine and slid back under the car, knocking Blaine on his butt. Blaine scoffed in surprise, but stood and rubbed his butt.
"You're forgiven. This time." Kurt chuckled from under the car.
Blaine laughed. "Okay, Tutz. Whatever you say."
-MEOW-
Hope you liked it! Please review! Let me know if I did something you liked or something you hated, and let me know if there's anything I can do for you! :)
Translations:
Boss = Cool
Bindie = a boy in need of a haircut
Nosebleed = stupid/ a loser
Sophie = One's girlfriend
Ice it! = Forget it!
Apple Butter = Smooth talk