terrormoo fic .
no warnings .
1348 words .
a/n- based off that one text post
He could hear his roommate clunking around downstairs. Their walls were thin and if he could hear Tyler opening cupboards and making a mess, Tyler could sure as hell hear him.
But the fucker wasn’t even answering him.
With a big sigh, he let his head fall back. “Grill me a cheese!” he shouted, hearing the water run through the plumbing as it did when the kitchen tap was on. “I know you’re in the kitchen! Grill me a damn cheese!”
He’d first called out to his roommate twenty minutes ago. The front door had opened and closed and the heavy thump of bags being dropped to the floor in the main room notified the Irishman of his roommate’s return. Brian had realised that he must have been making something up with how long the guy was spending pottering around in the kitchen so he’d pulled off his headphones and called out to him, yelling: “Yo! Make me a grilled cheese!”
Since then, he’d shouted several times to his roommate, demanding a grilled cheese and getting more and more frustrated at the lack of response. Tyler, the dickhead he was, was probably laughing to himself at the cost of Brian’s suffering. He resorted quickly to digging his phone out from beneath the mess of papers on his desk and flicking open Tyler’s contact. Three calls left unanswered; he resorted to sending a number of angry texts to the man downstairs, grumbling as he continued to be ignored.
With a loud groan of frustration, he smacked the device down. “Tyler, for fuck’s sake, grill me. A fuckin’. Cheese!” He heard nothing downstairs. It was silent. Yet he didn’t get the chance to think about why as his phone buzzed angrily on the table.
Tyler’s messages shot through with a realistic level of aggression, shouting capital words of: “I WAS IN A MEETING DICKHEAD” and “GRILL YOUR OWN DAMN CHEESE”.
Brian stared at his phone. The blood drained from his face as realisation washed over him. Tyler wasn’t supposed to be home until five that afternoon. This meant that the person banging around in his kitchen wasn’t Tyler.
As fear pooled in his chest, he shook his mouse against the desk to wake up his computer. An image of mountains opened up on the screen with the time and day. His heart dropped.
It was Thursday; the day that the plumber was due to come in and fix their sink tap.
He dropped his phone in horror.
He’d been yelling at the damn plumber, for thirty minutes, demanding for him to make him lunch.
“Oh my fuckin’ God,” he muttered, but a soft knock on his bedroom door drew his attention. “Oh fuck.”
But before he could throw himself into his closet and hide in his humiliation, the door was easing open and a man Brian didn’t know was looking inside.
Brian couldn’t help but stare, cheeks pale in his embarrassment. “Oh my god,” he said again. “Are you-” He didn’t even know what to say as the stranger stepped inside. He was a little shorter than Brian and his soft cheeks were pink in embarrassment. But his rich brown eyes drew the Irishman in, because; of course, the man he’d just humiliated himself in front of had to be extremely attractive.
It wasn’t until those brown eyes looked down to the plate the plumber was holding that Brian noticed it too. A little white plate holding a grilled cheese sandwich.
The smell of melted cheese reached Brian and his mouth watered in hunger. He swallowed the urge back and covered his face with his hands. “I t’ought my roommate was home,” he blurted out, shaking his head in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I haven’t slept since- and I-”
“It’s okay!” the man gushed, shaking his head. “I had a feeling you weren’t aware that I was a stranger.” A small smile twisted at his lips as he lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Sounded like you really wanted this though so I thought I’d make you one while I finished up.”
“Ye did not have to do that,” Brian muttered, cheeks flushing pink as he motioned the guy into his room. He leaned across his desk and flicked on the light, revealing his messy room. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, feeling even more flustered at the state that his room was in. “Did ye make one for yourself?”
The plumber shook his head, crossing the room carefully as to not step on anything, and handed Brian the plate. “I’m about to head out and get lunch with my sister anyway.” He ducked his head and blushed, shuffling back as Brian set the plate down on his desk. He scratched at the back of his neck.
Brian couldn’t pull his eyes away and words built up beneath his tongue. The urge to do something to really apologise to the man, but also the will to see him again. He would kick himself if he chickened out with this cute guy in his bedroom, looking terribly awkward. Who would know how to handle this situation? “God, okay, this is… this is weird but can I take you out for coffee later? To- to apologise for shoutin’ at ye the whole time you were here.” The words flowed out like water and he felt his cheeks darken from pink to red. He watched as the man’s eyes widened in surprise and felt panic lift in his lungs. “Ye don’t have to,” Brian rushed, “if ye don’t want to, or- or if you’re unavailable which is… likely- Fuck, I’m sorry.” He clamped his mouth shut in his shame.
“I’m… not unavailable,” he mumbled and the admission had pink flushing his neck. He opened his mouth again but decidedly pursed his lips again.
Brian felt like a teenager, blushing and stuttering. “Well- Well, are ye free tomorrow?”
A slow nod. “Before noon, yes.”
“Okay,” Brian said, spinning on his chair and tearing off a pit of paper. He scribbled down his number before turning and holding it out to the other. “Text me your address an’ I’ll come pick ye up tomorrow at ten.”
The man took the slip of paper, looking numb as he blinked back up at Brian. “I don’t even know your name,” he said and Brian ducked his head in embarrassment.
“It’s Brian,” he said, carding his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
A smile broke out on the man’s lips and he took a timid step forward. Brian watched as he stuck his hand out, a small laugh slipping from his mouth. “I’m Brock, it’s nice to meet you, Brian.” The Irishman took Brock’s hand and shook it firmly, that contagious smile crawling onto his own lips. “I’ll text you this afternoon.”
“Okay,” Brian laughed, feeling breathless at the ridiculousness of this whole situation. “Thank you,” he said, before adding: “For t’e plumbing, and t’e sandwich.”
Brock laughed, skin creasing either side of his eyes. Brian felt his heart swell at the picture, wanting to hear that laugh more and more. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from trying to get Brock to laugh over coffee and the reality of spending part of his morning with the plumber started to sink in.
“You’re very welcome,” Brock said, stepping back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” Brian said and watched helplessly as Brock turned and slipped out of the room. His bedroom door clicked shut and he listened as the plumber returned to the kitchen. A few minutes later, the front door was clicking shut and Brian was flopping onto his desk. “Idiot,” he muttered to himself, sitting up and rubbing his face.
When he looked down at his desk, he found the sandwich, cut perfectly into two rectangles and dripping with melted cheese. One bite in; he couldn’t stop his groan.
He knew that if he could swindle Brock into making more of these sandwiches for him, there was no way he was letting that plumber get away.
