A/N: This one shot was written for the following prompt I received on tumblr...
anonymous prompted: Alternate meeting AU… Blaine drives a totally non-creepy ice cream truck around the neighborhood and Kurt has a kid (or niece/nephew or he babysits w/e)
It was just a summer job, and he was lucky enough to have gotten it if he was being completely honest. Sure, he was now known as "Mister Softee" to the children in the neighborhood, and he had to drive around a tank of a refrigerated truck that was probably manufactured in the 1950s while that monotonous tune tinkled from the speaker on top of the vehicle, but it was a job. And a job meant money, and money meant that he could afford that new camera that he had his eye on.
Blaine was due for an update on his equipment, and he'd like to at least obtain the new Canon model before the new semester of the photography program he was enrolled in at the university began.
Blaine had to keep reminding himself that as humiliating as it was, it wasn't so bad. The job did have its perks, like seeing the smiles on kids' faces when he handed them their cherry or chocolate dipped soft serve in a cone or their ice cream pop that vaguely resembled their favorite cartoon character - if Picasso had digitally painted them and printed them out of a 3D printer. The Spongebob one gave him nightmares sometimes with its iris-less black gumball eyeballs and warped, hellish fangs for teeth. He could only imagine what the dye in the candy and ice cream did to the mouths of the children, all imaginings equally as frightening.
The best perk of his job by far walked up to his truck one particularly hot Saturday afternoon, and Blaine's nightmares were now a thing of the past, replaced by someone he could only have dreamt up during the most tranquil of slumbers after a night in with GQ and a steaming cup of salted caramel hot chocolate. This handsome stranger made Blaine feel all warm from his head to his toes, in spite of the below-forty internal temperature of the truck. He was all long limbs and pale, freckled skin that practically glowed in the sun, and his outfit and hair, which were almost too stylish and particularly done, made the man seem so strangely out of place in this small Ohio town.
He went into customer service robot mode in attempt to maintain his composure in front of the gorgeous stranger, lest he make a fool of himself as he was wont to do. "What can I get you today?" Blaine said, offering one of his biggest grins usually reserved for the children with especially crabby-looking parents. But the man standing before him holding on to the tiny hand of a little boy no older than five was instantly smiling back and didn't seem to need his fabricated friendliness.
Blaine relaxed a little, now wearing a more genuine, softer smile for the man gazing up at him. He leaned forward, hanging slightly out of the window, and pointed to the menu of frozen desserts displayed beneath him on the side of the truck. "If chocolate is what you crave, we have this, this, and this. Or, if you're looking for something fruity, we have all of these." He waved his hand like Vanna White in front of the pictures of the items and then looked back up at the man.
"I'll take a small vanilla and chocolate twist soft serve in a cone for this little guy here -"
"My name is Jacob, what's your name?" the little guy piped up.
Blaine chuckled as the man rolled his eyes in response to the interruption, which Blaine couldn't help but notice were an icy blue hue.
"My name's Blaine. It's great to meet you, Jacob," he said, waving overenthusiastically.
The man looked at him apologetically. "Well, since we're doing introductions…hello, Blaine, my name is Kurt, and this is the -" he lifted his free hand up by his mouth to speak behind it, " - pain in the ass I have the privilege of babysitting this summer."
Blaine laughed. "I'm sure it's not so bad."
"Well, if I could finish ordering so that he has something to occupy his hands and mouth, then that might make this job more bearable. He might look like an angel, but that's because I promised him ice cream. As soon as it's devoured, I'm sure he'll go right back to his wily, playdough-flinging ways."
"What will it be then? What is Kurt craving today for a much-needed indulgence and reward for staying strong in the face of rainbow-colored non-toxic projectiles?" He really liked the sound of the man's name as it rolled off his tongue, and the melodious laugh that sounded in response to his lame joke sent a pleasant shiver through his body.
"Kurt would love a small cup of vanilla soft serve and a warm soft pretzel - but only if you have peanut butter sauce to drizzle over the ice cream - not on the pretzel. Please tell me you have it in that truck of yours, because you'll be my hero if you do."
Blaine's stomach swooped, and he quickly made to search the interior for anything peanut butter, wanting nothing more than to please Kurt, but then he remembered that it wasn't allowed for allergy reasons.
"Oh, jeez, I'm so sorry. I can get you the ice cream, but unfortunately all things peanut are forbidden. Can't risk being the cause of some deadly allergic reaction in some unsuspecting child. I'm sure the company's insurance isn't that great," Blaine jested. The look of disappointment on Kurt's face killed him, and he really wished there was something he could do, but, alas, he had no magic wand that he could wave to summon delicious creamy toppings.
"It's alright, I understand. I didn't even think about that, but that's no fault of your own." Kurt sighed. "I'll still take the ice cream, but do you at least have fudge topping…?"
Kurt scrunched his nose up and narrowed his eyes in the most adorable way that made Blaine even more delighted to be able to say: "Yes! Fudge I have! Give me a moment to whip it up for you," he said, adding a wink for effect.
Kurt giggled again, and Blaine smiled to himself as he moved around the truck to fill the order. He felt Kurt's eyes on him the entire time and suddenly became nervous, nearly dropping the cone for Jacob's ice cream. He promptly handed it to the little boy who snatched it from him a little too eagerly, and then Blaine swiftly threw together Kurt's mock fudge sundae.
Just before he handed it to him, he pulled it back and placed a cherry on top, then held it out to Kurt who was looking curiously at him. "For your troubles," Blaine said. "And because you deserve something special - you do like cherries…?" Blaine added quickly, realizing his mistake.
"I love cherries," Kurt said, taking the cup and the soft pretzel. He balanced them strategically in his hand and on his wrist while he fumbled for his wallet. Once out of his pocket, he managed to fish out a ten and hand it to Blaine. "Thank you," Kurt said.
If Kurt hadn't gone for his wallet, Blaine would have forgotten to charge him. "It'll be $5.62, and it's no problem at all," Blaine said, taking the bill. He entered it into the register and returned Kurt's change to him.
Blaine watched as Kurt slid all but a single dollar bill back into his pocket, but he didn't turn to leave. Instead, Kurt and the little boy stepped to the side to make room for the two little girls who had been waiting behind them. Blaine was too busy helping the girls to notice what Kurt was doing, but as soon as they took off with their Powerpuff Girls ice cream pops, Kurt stepped back up to the window.
"Did I forget something?" Blaine asked, growing worried. "Please tell me I didn't screw up your order, because I will never forgive myself."
"You did nothing of the sort. In fact, everything was perfect, and that's why I have something for you." Kurt reached up and dropped the folded up dollar into the tip jar.
"Oh! Thank you so much," Blaine said, noticing how it uncharacteristically dropped to the bottom of the plastic container with a soft thud.
"It's no problem at all," Kurt echoed back his own words to him from their earlier transaction. And then he winked. Blaine's stomach swooped again as if he was rolling over a steep hill, and he swallowed thickly.
"Enjoy the rest of your day, Kurt," Blaine said, beaming. "I hope it's relatively painless and playdough free!"
"I will now," he said, and then he took the boy's sticky hand again and turned to walk away from the idling vehicle.
Blaine stared stupidly at the man's backside for a few moments, watching the way his hips swayed hypnotically, unsure of what exactly just took place. He shook himself from his daze and decided he'd investigate the mysteriously heavy dollar tip that took way too long for Kurt to give.
Blaine reached into the jar and pulled out the dollar, feeling something stiff folded up inside of it. He quirked an eyebrow as he unfolded it to reveal what appeared to be a blank business card with something neatly scrawled across it.
There was a phone number, and written beneath it was a short message:
For your troubles and the delicious free cherry. ;)
I am in your debt, so make sure you let me know how I can repay you.
- Kurt Hummel
Blaine held the card in his hands like it was made of thin glass and might shatter to pieces if he wasn't careful. He read the name and number over and over again, a silly grin plastered on his face the entire time, and then he slid the window closed and got back behind the wheel.
Screaming, sticky-fingered, toothless hellspawn, cranky, pushy, overheated parents, and the Plutonian cartoon-impersonating ice cream creations that lurked at the bottom of his cooler were not enough to ruin his mood as he finished his shift. Throughout the remaining few hours, Blaine would absentmindedly touch the breast pocket of his shirt which now housed the card with the number right over his heart, and, when he did, the memory of Kurt's face would surface in his mind and wash all the unpleasant thoughts away.
It was just a summer job, but Blaine now knew that he was the luckiest man in the world to have secured it.