Chapter Text
It was going to work this time, Waxwell just knew it.
He had snuck into Dyle’s office when he was sleeping one night, and changed the timing of one of the trains on the schedule. He wasn't sure how the system worked, but he was sure there would be some kind of crash, or they would miss a vital shipment, or something equally as catastrophic! Waxwell stayed up all night to see the effects of his dastardly deed, nearly dozing off once or twice as he sat in the lobby. Eventually, morning came around, and the hour was near. Dyle had woken up, and was shuffling about his office, talking to himself.
“Ah, yes, the first train of the day…” That was the one he altered. Now, it was time to see exactly what kind of horrible event would unfold. “Right, that was rescheduled. Glad I remembered to fix it.” Huh? To Waxwell’s left, a train screeched to a halt, right at the time he had written down. Not long after, Dyle exited the office to make his way to check on the train. “Ah, hello, Waxwell. Wasn't expecting to see you up here this early.” Dyle paused, as if realizing something. “Were you the one who changed the time on the schedule?” Waxwell just grumbled in response. “Thank you, I must've forgotten to do it myself. How did you know what time it was coming?”
“I didn't! I don't know how this happened again!” Waxwell’s flame lit up in anger. Dyle appeared sympathetic. Waxwell didn't want sympathy, he wanted results! This was probably the 20th time that had happened to him since he got there, and he was starting to lose hope that his evil plans would ever work. Maybe if he just tried one more time… He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Waxwell, don’t you think it’s about time you gave up the ‘bad guy’ act?” What was this clock saying? “The show isn't running anymore, you don't have to do anything evil. I heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with Goob, maybe he can be a good influence on you?” Waxwell didn’t need good influences in his life, he needed bad ones!
“You don’t know what I need, I know what I need, and it’s not that! It’s to succeed!” He jumped up, a newfound conviction to do better, or worse. Waxwell wasn’t sure how to word that. Dyle watched on as Waxwell left to go scheme up some more plots. When he got to his room, Waxwell was surprised to see Goob, standing outside his door, sliding a piece of paper into the room. He had started doing that since Waxwell started distancing himself, and even though they were closer now, he would still do it from time to time. Maybe he just thought it was fun? “Goob?” The craft whipped his head around to look at Waxwell.
“Oh! Waxwell! I thought you were in there!” He gestured towards the door. “Um, I left you a note, but I guess I can ask you now. Teagan’s having another tea party in a couple days, and they wanted both of us to come!” Goob smiled, head bouncing back and forth. “It would mean a lot to her if you showed up.”
Waxwell thought for a moment. He had gone to one of Teagan’s parties before, and it was fine. He made his tea too strong and could barely drink it last time, but he learned his lesson. Although, if Goob were there, and someone asked him if he had a crush on anyone again…
“...Fine. I’ll go.” It would be fine, he figured. He doubted that would happen again anyway. What were the odds? Goob just clapped his hands together, excited.
“Yay! I’ll let her know we’ll both be there!” This was fine, he would just stay mostly silent, like he had the last time, and he wouldn’t have to divulge any personal information. It would be okay. “Can I give you a hug?” Head tilt. Waxwell wondered if Goob was catching on to the fact that he couldn’t resist the head tilt.
“Ugh, fine, but just a little bit.” The craft pulled him in, lifting him off the ground slightly. “H-Hey!” Waxwell’s flame lit, half in annoyance, half in embarrassment. Goob set him back down and took a step back.
“Sorry, I just got excited!” That Toon was stronger than he looked. “The tea party’s gonna be so fun! We can try each other’s tea!”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” That sounded horrible, but Waxwell just wanted him to leave him alone at that point, so he would’ve agreed to nearly anything. Even trying tea that Goob had already taken a sip of. He had to force himself to not think about the implications, lest his flame burn brighter. Goob said goodbye, and walked off. Waxwell opened his door, finding a sheet of paper face down on the ground. He picked it up.
“Tea party in two days? Yes or No, circle one! Hugs, Goob.” Well, Waxwell had already given his answer, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to just keep the page.
-----
The air conditioning in his room malfunctioned again the next day, causing the temperature to plunge. He wrote in his journal, complaining about it, blanket wrapped around him again. He lit his fire in an attempt to warm the space, but it did next to nothing. Whatever, he’d just wait for it to fix itself again. He wrote more, about the upcoming tea party, how he was nervous about sharing tea with Goob, how he was worried that would count as his first kiss, how he didn’t want to reveal his crush on him just yet. As he was finishing up his last sentence, the air conditioning fixed itself. Thank evilness. He tossed his blanket back on his bed and his flame extinguished itself as the room warmed up again.
He flopped down on his bed, exhausted. It had been a long day of scheming and talking with Goob during meals, he was certifiably beat. He grabbed the Goob plush off his nightstand, holding it in his arms. He pressed his lips against the top of its head, not quite kissing, just resting them against it. Waxwell grabbed one of the hands, running his hand over the claws. Oh, how he wanted to hold the real Goob’s hand again, for an extended period of time. Maybe while they were walking down the hall, or standing in the elevator, or maybe even during a meal.
There were so many things he wanted to do with Goob. He wanted to hold hands, obviously, but he also wanted to kiss him, and hold him, and fall asleep cuddling him, maybe every night even, and spend time with him, and do sappy romantic things with him that the old Waxwell would never have even considered. His heart ached as he thought about being with Goob romantically, longing for his embrace for the first time ever. It was ridiculous, he thought, wanting to be with Goob, but it was what his heart longed for. After his realization, all he wanted to do was kiss Goob’s goofy smile, and scheme, of course. Mostly straying away from plans that involved Goob and Scraps as victims. He figured he was just going soft, but if there was anyone to go soft for, it was Goob.
Waxwell held the plush to his chest, rolled over on his side, and fell asleep.