pairings: waterboy x gender neutral reader, waterboy's grandmother and reader (technically waterboy doesn't Physically show up in the fic but he's talked about / talks to reader in the end)
summary: in which your work in assisting an elderly woman lets you learn a great deal of information about her grandson.
(read part 2)
content / warnings: lighthearted, reader works in assistive care / as a home health aide and doesn't have superpowers, spoilers for waterboy's name, i've named his grandmother gladys for the purposes of this fic (i think it's a nice name ^w^)
word count: 1.2 k
a/n: well, who could have guessed that i would end up liking yet another slightly pathetic and easily flustered man
i have not currently finished the game (and i did not choose waterboy in chapter 4 i know i know okay i'm so sorry waterboy i just didn't want phenomaman to be depressed…) — i’m up to chapter 5, so please don’t spoil anything for me relating to the story of chapters 6-8 right now!
the specific hc that he plays/played volleyball comes from the fic A Day At The Beach! by Imextremelytired on AO3!
It’s not very easy living in Los Angeles, especially when those with superpowers run around every day causing havoc. Certainly, it makes it kind of tough on those who can’t take as much care of themselves. Going grocery shopping can be difficult when cars have been crumpled like cans outside of one’s driveway for the third time this month.
Thankfully, that’s what community programs are for. And you’re thankful you can contribute in your own way, assisting older residents of the city in their daily activities — housekeeping, medication reminders, and whatever else they might need — for a few years now. It’s not flying, but it’s helping those in need, which is heroic in its own way, isn’t it?
Gladys is one such client of yours, and one of your favorites — there’s just something about the diminutive, white-haired woman that makes you smile whenever she opens the door. Though she doesn’t have any powers to speak of, the only thing that’s hindered her in life seems to be her age: she may need the stair-lift to get up and down the floors of the house, but she’s got a sharper wit than most other people you’ve met and an uncanny sense of intuition, though it’s mostly reserved for solving disputes among the many cats in the home.
That’s not to say no one with powers lives in the house; Gladys’s grandson lives here, too. Though you’ve never actually seen him, his influence is clear from the towels and tarps laid out everywhere, and the air carries a constant, distinct hint of moisture (which is also why dehumidifiers are present in every room). A good portion of your time spent at their residence is devoted simply to laundry and cleaning.
You can’t find it in yourself to be mad at him, though, not with the way Gladys speaks about him. Herman — "Herm", as she lovingly christens him — is, in her words, ‘the sweetest, kindest boy you’ll ever meet in your life, though he’s also the most anxious boy you’ll ever meet.’
Anxious or not, he takes good care of her in between your visits. A person’s living space can tell a lot about them, and the house is well kept, meals are always prepared for Gladys to eat, and everything is as dry as it can be considering how his powers are water-based. The house is full of greenery, too — potted plants are scattered everywhere, and it lends a pop of color that’s very welcoming. There seem to be new ones every time you visit.
Herman’s never around when you are, though you learn it’s because of his job working at SDN as a hero — ‘he was so happy when he got the promotion, bless him —‘ that keeps him busy. Though this means you've never met him, you’ve osmosed many a fact about him that you can piece together; he’s a fan of black metal music, he enjoys melon, he used to play a little competitive volleyball.
That last fact is accompanied by a picture Gladys pulls up on her phone of his team winning a first place trophy, Herman hoisted on another player’s shoulders; his face stares out anxiously at the camera, eyes wide, and his uniform is soaked through (the player underneath him is grimacing slightly), but he seems sweet.
And he’s kind of cute, honestly.
What can you say. You have friends, but not that many friends, and there aren’t that many new people you talk to besides your elderly clients. And Gladys is so eager to chat with you as you work that you find yourself hanging on to each little tidbit you can get from her, especially when the conversation turns to her grandson. You’re not hoping it goes anywhere, or anything, especially not when you're never able to see him. It’s just wanting to know more about someone. That’s a perfectly normal thing to do. You’ve Googled it.
But one day, you decide to put on a bit of TV for you both to watch while you sit on the couch, Gladys knitting a sweater for Herman to wear over his suit in the winter and the house’s various cats curled at your feet. You flick through an old soap opera, a home renovation show, and then the local news reporting a pileup of cars on the highway —
‘Oh, look!’ Gladys exclaims suddenly, pointing at the screen. ‘There’s Herm!’
And, indeed, you spot Herman front and center on the screen. He’s taller than you’d thought. Taller than the reporter, at least, who seems to have to crane her neck up to him to speak to him properly. Gangly limbs that seem to be moving in ways he doesn’t intend them to go. Chestnut colored hair is sticking to his face and goggles cover his eyes, fogged over lightly with condensation.
He’s got a few scratches on him, but other than that, he looks uninjured. The scrolling text identifies his hero name as, aptly, Waterboy, and when the reporter asks what the best course of action would be for drivers looking to cross, he stammers out, ‘S-stay — keep off of the highway! Don’t — drive. I mean, drive other — somewhere else. For now.’
Another hero with pink and blue hair shines out light from her form as she passes behind him, lighting a little rainbow over his head. Behind his goggles, his eyes shine briefly, and he smiles awkwardly, before promptly ballooning his cheeks and spitting out a stream of water like a fountain at the camera.
The thought of him being cute, which you had sworn to yourself you'd filed away in your mind, suddenly turns into the far more pressing realization that he’s actually quite attractive.
Oh, no.
It’s too quiet in the room. You’ve been staring, you realize — leaned much closer to the television than is healthy for your eyes. Gladys is looking at you, her knitting needles having stopped their clicking in favor of pointing in your direction, the way that she always does when she knows something.
You clear your throat, probably too loudly (why's your throat suddenly so dry when this entire house is damp?) and lean back against the couch, as casually as you can make it. ‘Uh. Sounds like they’re going to be busy clearing up the highway all afternoon.’
There’s a few more seconds of silence before — thankfully — her knitting resumes, but you know Gladys by now: her tone is just a little too slow to be nonchalant. ‘It certainly sounds like it, dear.’
The fresh, thick towels under you, mercifully, absorb the sweat that’s started to break out on your body. One of the cats begins to meow insistently for food.
———
(Incoming Call: Unknown Number)
‘Hello?’
‘Uh — he — hello?’
‘Hello, who is this?’
‘I’m Herm — Herman! I’m — grandson to, uh, Gladys’s grandson? Grandson to Gladys, who’s my… grandma. She gave me your number, she wants to have — invite you — to come over for food. Dinner. Next week?’
‘Oh. Uh —'
‘And if you’re not into — interested, that’s fine — totally fine! Just, uh, wanted to — wanted to say. Offer. She said it would be bet — better if I asked you.’
‘No, I’d — I’d love to come to dinner, Herman! Your grandma’s told me a lot about you, and it would be great to meet you. If it wouldn’t be a bother, obviously.’
‘Great! Great, I… we’ll see you then! No trouble at all, I usually c-cook lots — a lot anyway. Looking forwards to — meeting you, she really likes you and I’m sure I’ll… like you, too…?
…
Well, um. See you. Next week.’
‘See you next week, Herman.’
‘You t — bye.’
(End Call)
a/n: i guess this means i'm not just a date everything blog anymore? although there's no way that whatever i write will overtake the date everything ones lol. at least not considering the current ratio of 71-1
i hope you enjoyed this!! 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
please unfollow me if you get mad at actors for not stagedooring. Disrespectfully, fuck you. They just performed for three hours and are probably exhausted, they don’t owe you shit.
