also I must mention how much I love that Robbie owns a friggin bulldozer and that he thinks its hilarious to drive it menacingly behind Stingy
though it opens up a lot of questions about the infrastructure of Lazytown’s world; does Robbie have to pay insurance on his bulldozer? Does he have to renew his tabs? Where does he park it when he’s not using it?
And also… When are he and Trixie going to participate in the Mayhemtown Demo Derby using it?
Can you do Yullen +30? I can just see Allen awkwardly telling Kanda his feelings this way ☺️
Late, but this was so nice to do!! Thanks for the request hun ♥
Too quick, mumbled into his scarf
Allen breathed what little warm air was left in him out, exhaling hot on his red tinged fingertips. He drew his knees up to his chest, feet flat on the car seat, and felt Kanda’s side-eyed glare.
It was too cold, Allen thought defiantly. Kanda’s heater had broken and it was chilled enough the windows were iced over. Let him say something.
But Kanda didn’t, merely decelerating as they approached a red light. The car idled, and Allen wondered why, when his car stalled at four in the morning it had been this grumpy asshole Allen had thought of and not, say, friendly cheery Lavi, or understanding Lenalee?
Well. He knew. Knew it as sure as he did the bill the wrecker was going to be sending him as they towed his car away.
“Rotten luck,” Allen grumbled, and Kanda scoffed.
“No, not rotten luck,” he corrected sharply, driving forward as the light cast green rays on falling snow flakes. “I told you to get your engine checked.”
“Just because the light is on doesn’t mean you have to,” Allen said, the proud owner of a dime a dozen used cars that always proclaimed to have something wrong with them. “It was just bad timing!”
There was another humph and they fell silent. Allen wound his scarf tighter and drew his knees closer, wrapping his arms around them. He hadn’t been prepared to sit in an ice box for forty five minutes and he was paying for it with violent shaking.
“Oh Jesus, just, here-” still driving, Kanda reached back with one arm and hauled something huge, cloth, and bulky from his backseat. Allen squawked indignantly as it landed on him in heaps, hastily rearranging it so he could breath.
“What is this?” Allen asked, finally peering over the edge and bringing it to just under his chin. It smelled like crisp winter chill, Kanda’s cologne a few days old, and the comfort of Kanda’s home. Warm. He huddled under it, tucking himself in every where he could. Without thinking he ducked his nose back under and closed his eyes, inhaling.
“The blanket Lena made me bring,” Kanda said waspishly, and Allen laughed lightly. This was from the unseasonably warm weather they’d had a few weeks ago - nice enough to picnic in, even. It had smelled nice then, too, lulling Allen into a light nap under the bright sun.
He settled and looked back through the windshield. It wasn’t snowing hard enough to warrant the wipers, but occasionally Kanda flicked them on to brush away what snow clung over intervals of time. The road still stretched long and dark, empty, and Allen hunched over.
He’d been the first person Allen had thought of, and despite the hour, the distance, the cold, his own broken car, Kanda had come.
He laughed at his own stupid tears that sprung up, because he wasn’t used to mattering enough to warrant such kindness.
“Are you crying?” Kanda demanded in disbelief. Well. As much kindness as Kanda could give.
Spades more than Allen deserved, really. “It’s just,” he sniffed, rubbed his nose, “I don’t know. It’s late and it’s cold and your car and it was so sudden but here you are and I didn’t expect you to or anyone really but here I’m sitting and you gave me your blanket and it smells like you and it’s warm, and-”
His breath hitched on a hiccup and he pulled the blanket high enough to cover his eyes. “And I just kind of realized I love you.”
He was a bit disappointed the car didn’t swerve a single iota. It remained horribly still, and Allen wondered if he’d been obvious and Kanda had already known, or if Kanda simply had nerves of steel.
He was so lost in his own self-doubt he didn’t notice the car pulling to the side and stopping until Kanda was harshly yanking the blanket down, forcing Allen to meet his eyes. They were an alarming blue, vivid against his chill-nipped cheeks and nose, against all the gray of the winter storm outside.
“What did you say?” Kanda felt impossibly close, sounded horribly loud. Allen shied away, not ashamed, no, but suddenly terrified of Kanda’s possible response.
“Nothing!” Allen said hurriedly, glancing out the passenger window, darting to all the spaces between the clinging snowflakes. “It’s cold! Don’t stop,” he added, feebly.
“No,” Kanda said, turning fully in his seat. “What did you say?”
Curling in, Allen laced his fingers beneath the blanket, chapped skin pulling at his knuckles. He’d just sighed when Kanda grasped his chin and forcibly turned him. He wondered if Kanda could feel the heat of his blush.
“I love you!” Allen snapped, almost irritably. “God, I do, even though you’re an asshole, and you curse a lot, and you’re impatient, but you’re here for me of all people and I. I’m.”
Don’t cry, he thought to himself fiercely. Don’t you dare cry!
But Kanda didn’t reject him, or shove him away, or even speak crass words.
He leaned in and covered Allen’s trembling mouth with his own, the first spot of warmth Allen had felt in ages.
Relief pooled from him and his entire countenance relaxed, and despite the cold snap Kanda’s lips were impossibly soft. Allen returned the kiss as if afraid, but the fear followed his tension and vanished into the winter air, replaced by warmth, relief, love.
When Kanda finally pulled away Allen couldn’t help smiling at the blush rising in his cheeks, too.
Everyone expects for Scarecrow to do something especially horrible on Halloween, but what if one year instead of creating toxin-induced mayhem he instead chose to spend the night running around committing annoying-but-harmless acts like toilet-papering yards and egging houses? Batman would be patrolling Gotham trying to figure out Crane’s master plan, and in the meantime he’s just playing ding-dong-ditch with the neighborhood kids and pelting GCPD cars with rotten eggs.