Work Text:
O’Chunks knocked on the door, slowly at first. “L, are yeh in there, friend?” he asked, hoping his co-worker would respond. No answer.
“L, I know yer’ in here, yeh ain’t come out in 2 days….please let meh in.” No answer.
O’Chunks persisted through the silence. “I made yeh some of yer fav’rite food, don’t make meh break down yer’ door..” No answer.
O’Chunks sighed, placing the plate of pasta to the side, “Alright then..” O’Chunks then spun and threw his burly arms towards the door, breaking it into several sharp shards. The shards scattered across the hall.Mr. L’s room was dark and filled with posters of robots. Brobot, along with all of L’s tools were on the farthest side of the room, except for one wrench on a nightstand by L’s bed. He had a bookshelf filled with Shakespeare plays and sonnets, as well as a collection of sci-fi novels. Mr. L was huddled up in the back corner of the room, shaking. O’Chunks quickly set the plate of fettuccine alfredo on the nightstand and rushed to L’s side.
“Jumpin’ giblets! Buddy, are yeh okay?? Yer’ trembling , speak to meh,” O’Chunks said, worriedly.
No answer.
“Please talk to meh, ye see… Ye got meh so worried when ye didn’t come out of here on Thursday, or even Friday fer movie night...I jus’ want to make sure yer okay, buddy.” O’Chunks sat down next to the man. No answer…
“I relly ain’t mad at you pal, I relly jus’ want to be with yeh and see yeh outside your room, happy..” O’Chunks looked away.
Then..
“...g...go away…”
O’Chunks frowned. At least L said something, but that was not what he wanted to hear. “Look, ye can’t make me go away. If ye ain’t gonna tell meh, let Ole’ Chunky stay at yer side and comfort ye.” He said. Mr.L was silent, and O’Chunks wrapped his arm around him. L tried to back away, but O’Chunks was too strong to let him isolate again. “Let me go, I don’t want you seeing me like this…” L choked. O’Chunks grip on L got stronger as he began to stroke the broken down mechanic’s brown tufts of hair. Mr. L continued to resist, but eventually ended up melting into O’Chunks’ arms and continued to sob.
About half an hour later of silence and cuddles, L had begun to calm down. The scottish man’s arms were warm yet scratchy and hairy at the same time, his muscles acting as cushions for Mr.L. He would occasionally whimper but O’Chunks would shush him and squeeze him tighter. Mr. L eventually ended up falling asleep in O’Chunks’ arms, and the pressure from having L in his arms made him fall asleep too. When L woke up in the morning, O’Chunks was still there, and so was the pasta. L smiled, and decided to melt back into Chunks’ arms until he woke up.