How to Date an Ed
Kevin leans against the wall outside the door of his boyfriend's class, glowering at the floor. He can't get Nat's threatening sentence out of his head. How is he going to regret cock-blocking the self-proclaimed King of Butts? He's not sure, but he's got a bad feeling about it. The red-headed male chews on his thumbnail while he waits.
How is he going to solve that damn math equation? Even a slight mishap could cost him his whole semester. And like Hell he paid $1500 for a wasted semester. He had to sell his baby, his 1990 Harley, to get into this stupid school. No way in hell is that going to be tossed down the drain by some stupid math. The athlete sighs. He's got no choice. He has to ask Double Dork for help on his homework, Eddy or no.
He jerks back into the land of the living when the classroom door opens, signalling the end of the class. Finally. He waits impatiently, glancing around the nerds and geeks, trying to spot his sockheaded boyfriend. The larger male spots it, bouncing around the combed and gelled hair of the others surrounding it. Happily surprised blue eyes meet his and suddenly, all his paranoia and annoyance just melts away, leaving him slightly bemused. Does Double D have this effect on everybody?
"Salutations, Kevin! How was your math class?"
He gently smirks down at the younger male, arm wrapping itself around his boyfriend's waist.
"Eh, no big deal. C'mon, I'll take you home."
A gap-toothed smile is his reward. Warmth spreads through him at the sight of it. The Hell?
"Thank you, Kevin. I am ready to go whenever you are."
Tucking the nerd under his arm, the athlete makes his way to his car, surprised that his fake boyfriend fits so comfortably at his side. His previous thoughts return to him like a bolt of lightning. The tanner male guides the slimmer man to his Mustang, unlocks it, and opens the door for him, making eye contact with every person out in the parking lot. He mentally screams at them, "Mine!" as he shuts the car door and hurdles himself into the driving seat. The machine roars to life and the pair head back to their sleepy little neighborhood.
The silence in the car is comfortable, but as much as Kevin wishes he didn't have to break it, his curiosity is getting the better of him.
"So, how did you... you know... figure out you liked guys?"
Double D turns to him in surprise. Why would Kevin care? Or want to know? His lips part slightly in thought. A small voice in his head hopes that Kevin asking means that the jock might be feeling something towards him, but is immeadiately squished. The logical side of his brain tells him that the athlete is more than likely confused about his own sexuality, and is using him as a possible reference. Accepting that hypothesis as fact, the black-haired male lightly licks his lips before speaking.
"Actually, Kevin, I do believe it started back when you were blackmailing Eddy about his middle name."
The car swerves dangerously in between lanes. The redhead stares at him wide-eyed once they return to the correct lane- and after Double D stopped having a heart attack.
"Seriously, man? Back then? .....When Eddy kissed you?"
The young genius nods, then shakes his head.
"But not in the way that you think. Yes, Eddy kissed me, and yes, I freaked out. But it was more because of the germs and the fact that the person who kissed me was Eddy, not the fact that the person was male or female. I honestly hadn't thought about it until we hit middle school."
Kevin raises an eyebrow at him. The blue-eyed man resists the urge to roll said eyes.
"What happened in middle school?"
Double D blinks at him.
"Why, we were accepted. To a point. We weren't bullied as much, and we had friends that weren't just the Eds. And... Jimmy."
The athlete looks at him in confusion.
The brains of the Eds nods sagely.
"Precisely. Everyone assumed he was going to become either homosexual or metrosexual, myself included, I'm afraid. So, I had decided to dig up some research and graphs to help educate and prepare the poor fellow... it turned out that a drawing of two men kissing had gotten me... well... a little hot and bothered, to be brief."
A blush creeps up onto pale cheeks as the slimmer man turns to look out the window, to hide his embarrassment, even though his rambling could not be stopped.
"I've been denying it for years, thinking Eddy would leave me, or confusing poor Ed, and simply not believing it... as if I wasn't enough of an outcast, you know?"
Edd glances at the jock, seeing the stony expression. He turns away again, his thoughts becoming a bit too macabre for a Monday.
"No, of course you don't."
The next ten minutes seemed to take forever, but finally the genius couldn't take it anymore.
"...Kevin, may I ask you a personal question?"
A grunt of acknowledgement is all he recieves. He cringes, fear clenching into his spine; did he make the man mad? He hopes not, else wise this was going to be a very long two weeks. Pulling some determination he usually reserves for his best friend's ranting, he asks.
"Why are you here?"
"...Uh, 'cuz I want the Eagle."
Edd mentally slaps himself.
"Er, no, I mean... Frutare University. If memory serves correctly, you had recieved a full ride scholarship at... Notre Dame, I believe?"
And just like that, the depressing atmosphere transforms into a whirwind of tension.
"Oh. That. I did. Went there for a full semester. But, first game of the season, first play, and my offense collapses. I get sacked. Tackled by two big guys. One of them shatters my hip."
A small gasp escapes the genius. His hip was shattered? On his debut? That's a career-ender.
"Insurance got it replaced. But by the time I had gotten better and ready to go, the team had replaced me, the school allowed me to finish the semester. But if I wanted to stay, I had to pay my own way, or prove that I could still play."
Edd tilts his head slightly.
"So then, why didn't you prove to them that you were fully healed?"
Tan hands grip the steering wheel tightly. Ice blue eyes widen.
"You weren't fully healed. You still aren't. Correct?"
A quick jerk of the head is his answer. He gasps in horror.
"But Kevin! You- you- y-you suckerpunched Anders this morning! Like it was nothing! How are you still healing?"
Kevin looks at the spazzing dork sitting next to him. It was actually kind of cute, seeing the guy all flustered. The tension in the car dissipitates.
"Ah, well, didn't find out til too late, but the guy who attached my leg to the fake hip? Yeah, he didn't screw it in right. So if ya look closely when I walk, I got this limp."
The redhead bites back a snicker at the expression on the dork's face. He can't tell if it's mortification, or fury. Possibly a bit of both. But hell, it's hilariously adorable. He smirks.
"So, here I am, doing my backup plan."
Those big blues look at him curiously. How does a man his age look so... so... cute?!
"Your backup plan? May I ask what that pretails?"
He shrugs at the shorter male.
"Eh, sure, why not? I plan on being a mechanic. Anything with an engine, I want to be able to fix it. Mostly cars, though."
A small smile sits on the pale face of his companion, his expression quite... soft.
"Well, Kevin, I truly am sorry about your hip, but... I am proud that you are here."
He feels heat rush to his face again. Noone's ever been proud of him for losing his scholarship... Hell, HE ain't proud of it. But having the local genius be proud of him sparks something inside him. A small bit of kindredship? Maybe, he doesn't really want to delve into it right now, so he changes the subject.
"What about you? I thought you'd be a professor at an Ivy League college by now. What are ya doing at the local community?"
Those blue eyes widen even farther. How wide can they get, he wonders.
"...That is quite a long-and painful- story. Perhaps I could tell you tomorrow, since we are only minutes away from the cul-de-sac?"
Kevin thinks. Well, better now than never.
"...Only on some conditions. Alright, I'm knocking out my first rule of not being seen together at home. So- in exchange- tonight you come over and help me with my math. Tomorrow, I come over and I judge your cooking skills."
A thin black eyebrow is raised haughtily.
"Very well. Anything you are allergic to?"
The athlete shakes his head.
"Not that I'm aware of."
Kevin pulls into his boyfriend's driveway, watching the slighter male exit the car. He cocks his head to the side slightly. Is it just him, or does the dork have a great ass? He shakes his head to the side as he tells the dork to head over around six thirty. The sockhead agrees as he simply puts the automobile into reverse and- using his mad driving skills- backs the car into his own driveway across the street.
The athlete sprints inside, panic starting to rise in his gut. He just invited his fake boyfriend- technically boss- who has the worst case of OCD this side of the nut house, over to help him with his homework. He glances around his house, the place obviously being taken care of by two men. Dust was everywhere; used dishes climbed the sink and end tables; dirty clothes were littered artistically around the whole place. In his little meltdown, the young man can only think of one sentence to say.