reuben mcilroy. @reubcn - Tumblr Blog

most attractive people in mb?

"but i'm right here, sweetheart."

#answered.#also bc he doesnt like answering stuff like this in fear of singling ppl out or making ppl feel bad

melonball:

RIVER.

location: the beach status: open // @moorbrookestarters date: 4th july

day drinking had to be one of their favourite things in the whole world. it was summer, the sun was high and their favourite teacup was filled to the brim with whiskey. no one knew how old this whiskey was, when this cup has last been washed or why river found so much comfort in it. it was summer, it was his favourite time of the year and it was july 4th! that was a day long party where everyone let loose and it was socially acceptable for once. moorbrooke always had some sort of cheesy event happening, which they’d likely be joining eventually but right now… they stood in front of the ocean and sipped old whiskey from their teacup. just as river took a deep breath of relaxation, a wave crashed towards him and left him soaked with water and whisky, ‘ah, fuck! fuckkkk! fuck. fuck you too, ocean! what the fuck? what have i done to piss of mother earth today?’ he yelled to the water as if expecting a response and completely unaware of the people around him.

•

reuben was in need of an escape. he’s been rushed off his feet for most of the day; his legs are aching and he’s really quite impressed as to how many things can break on a single day. but hey, that’s what he was employed for to be the maintenance guy and make sure things were ticking along nicely. he’s glad to have a moment to breathe and chooses the beach to have a sit down. there’s people around him but for the most part things are quiet until--

“bloody hell,” the scot turns to the loud exclamation from beside him, seeing someone sat a little closer to the waves. too close by the sounds of it. “oh my christ.” he’s unable to stop himself from erupting into laughter, moreso from the reaction alone than the incident in question. “you alright over there?” he calls out, slowly hauling himself up onto his feet. “y’need a towel?”

#river.

candydripping:

Matty always felt guilty about the fact that he had to call up Reuben so often to come and fix something in the bookshop. Frankly, the building was pretty old, so it was probably a miracle that it even looked as good as it did. He looked embarrassed – the way he pretty much always did whenever he had to deal with social interaction – before pointing towards a corner of the room where the shelves had collapsed in on themselves. “Sorry, they broke again. I know it would probably be easier to buy new ones but I’m not sure if we have the budget for that.” He cringed for a moment, holding his arm with his hand. “Sure, of course, I’ll get you a coffee.” He looked flustered, hating how his cheeks were always red. “It’s okay, I don’t want to be an inconvenience. I could do it myself if you’re busy, I was just worried I would do it wrong.”

•

“hey, i’m only teasing you,” reuben says with a small smile, “and i really don’t mind the visits; i like comin’ over to see you.” which he wholeheartedly means. “and i definitely don’t recommend you actually tryin’ it yourself because the last i need is for you to get crushed by a bookshelf and then i’d feel guilty for at least a week.” the scot teases, giving matty a playful little wink. “how’s business been, anyway?” he asks as he gets to work in carefully removing all the items from the shelf to make sure nothing was to be damaged. “i know i say this every time i’m here but i really do wish i could read good. i feel like it must be... a nice escape, i suppose.”

#matty.

hank-bramson:

Lifting his head, the lightbulb going off that the problem could be an animal is obvious on Hank’s face. Something far more likely than the ghost he was thinking off. A conclusion he’d blame on the mass amounts of fiction he consumed. “Do you often have to deal with wild animals in your work?”

With a roll of his eyes, Hank let out a sigh. The comment about him looking like a librarian was older than him actually being one and, of course, he could have made the effort to not look like one but he liked how he dressed. It was one of the few things Hank liked about himself these days. Though he was pleasantly surprised that this wasn’t based off of his dress but rather how he came across. It had Hank holding himself a little taller. “The fact that you think I know words might be the highest compliment in all that,” he said with an awkward laugh. So often Hank got stuck and stumbled over his own thoughts. Stammering and desperately trying to get back to something that made sense. Hearing that either hadn’t happened or didn’t impact things was a further compliment. Hank wasn’t sure what to do with all these compliments but for right now, he was basking in it all.

The comment about looking good in shorts can’t even properly fluster Hank. His mind is already racing and taking in the other information. The confirmation of things he’d thought he’d picked up, common ground he thought they shared. The same leg and everything. Hank stands there in silence, mouth open slightly as he thinks over what to say. “Yeah it gets hot.” he finally says, still miles away and lost in his own head. There’s too much to say and, for a chance, the words don’t all come out at once. Instead Hank is left saying little.

•

“you would be surprised how often i come across them,” reuben admits with a chuckle, “anything creepy crawly, i absolutely hate them and rats as well. but every now and then i’ll be trying to fix something in a cupboard, or it’ll be a fixture in an attic that needs looking at and something scuttles across.” his body visibly shudders at the very thought. he’s really not looking forward to this next job now and he’s going to try and stick around hank’s place for as long as he can.

“your whole like, thing,” reuben means demeanor, but he’s unable to think of the word on the spot, “you just come across as someone who’s very intelligent. i like that, because it’s not in the uptight way either. or how people can seem up themselves. you’re not like that, very down to earth.” he explains as he starts to unscrew the previous shower fixture.

reuben was unaware that as he mentioned his prosthethis that hank really did understand what he was saying. sure, he’d had his suspicions that something was up simply from the walk -- as much as reuben likes to believe he himself walks fine, he knows there’s still the smallest of limps and especially when he’s having a day where phantom pain strikes or the lining starts to rub or grows tight due to altering weather conditions. it’s something he’s noticed in the other, a slight stiffness, but it could be due to anything and reuben’s not once ever thought it could be because they’ve shared a similar experience.

he simply nods at the other’s response, wondering if it’s because he was uncomfortable that reuben had mentioned his leg. it’s not uncommon, one thing he’s learnt over the years of having his disability was that some people didn’t know how to respond. at first it would bother him but he knows it’s nothing personal, at least he hopes so, and so he quickly shifts conversation to something else. “so, are you going to be helping out at the 4th of july event going on?” he asks as he places the old parts onto the floor and starts to unpackage the new shower head. “naturally, i’ll be the maintenance guy running around and making sure everything’s running smoothly.”

#hank.

e-hampton:

Ah, Thursday. Elliott’s favorite day of the week. On Thursday, even if it was pouring rain, the sun shined brighter. On Thursday, nothing could bring Elliott down. It was all because of the friendly encounter he had with a stranger a year ago, possibly to the date, and the rest was history. As he stepped into the cafe, Here Comes The Sun by The Beatles began playing in his head for some reason. He looked over to their table; they had their own table by this point; walking over to it, the guy took these seconds to admire his friend. He always loved it when Reuben had his coffee preordered and ready. Most of all, he loved that the other knew his coffee order. “Hey, gorgeous!” Elliott happily greets in return, his arms instantly wrapping around the other male in a tight, protective hug. “I’ve been alright,” he replies as he takes his seat, “I got stood up by a date the other day. Don’t worry, though; it turned out to be an adventure regardless of that. Although, I’m not too sure what I did to be stood up. I guess some people just really don’t like theatre,” he chuckled, shrugging a bit, reaching for the offered coffee mug. His drink was the same as Reuben’s, which is probably why it was so easy for the two to remember each other’s order. Every so often, though, Elliott got a simple black coffee…but those were on tough days. “I did meet a lovely guy named Owen. Super amazing, let me tell you. I hope I didn’t scare him off, though, as I legit started to serenade him with a RENT song,” he laughs, giving his friend a guilty but happy smile. “Tell me all about you, though! What’s new? How are you? I feel like it’s been ages since our last meet-up. Nevermind it was just last week; still, let me dramatic.”

•

“someone stood you up?!” immediately reuben’s brows furrow into a frown; he hates this new world of dating and ghosting, doesn’t understand why people can’t just be honest about their feelings. not that he was the perfect example of how to date right considering he avoided it at all costs, but he liked to think if he was to put himself out there that he’d be gentler. “you wouldn’t have done anythin’, babe. that’s on them bein’ a bastard, not you. it’s their loss at the end of it.” ever since they met, reuben’s always thought of elliott so highly. and there was no denying that he was a beautiful man; perhaps if reuben was a few years younger. “i think that name rings a bell,” he says, “i’m sure i’ve seen him around. he’s cute if it’s the one i’m thinking of.” reuben playfully wiggles his brows as he lifts his coffee mug to his lips. “i’m sure you didn’t, what isn’t to love about that? well, if you like the theatre anyway.” it was the biggest difference between the two of them as reuben had never been a theatre nerd, as much as he appreciated the work that went into it, he stuck to his sad boy songs. it didn’t mean he didn’t love hearing about it from elliott though, reuben always adored hearing about the passions of those close to him.

“i’m not doing too bad,” he says, though it wasn’t exactly the truth. he’d been throwing himself into his work as a form of distraction. “i’m so busy! i feel like i’ve barely had a moment to just relax, so this is much needed.” reuben gestures between the pair of them. “i’m excited for the 4th july stuff going on. are you doing anything in it?”

#elliott.

bex--fowler:

Bex had had a long morning at the coffee shop so when she got home and went to her bathroom for her afternoon shower to relax, she was very unhappy to see that her shower wasn’t working. So, naturally, she texted Reuben and hoped he’d know just what to do. When he finally got there, she looked less than presentable with flour in her hair and coffee stains on her jeans. Even with an apron on, it could still seep through and get to her clothes. She looked frazzled and just wanted to get clean again.

“I know, I know… it would probably be useful. Then I wouldn’t have to see that ugly mug of yours,” she smirked, winking at him to show she was joking and then leaned against the bathroom door frame. “Is it bad? I honestly have no idea what could be wrong, it worked fine last night,” she sighed, crossing her arms.

•

“did you have a fight with the flour this morning?” reuben asks in a teasing tone, giving bex a playful wink. “hey! seeing my ugly mug is definitely one of your favourite things, don’t pretend,” he then chuckles, “starting to think you’re purposely breaking things just for the excuse to see me.” reuben wiggles his brows at here, a large smirk upon his lips.

as he inspects the shower, he cocks his head a little. as suspected, no water was coming out at all as he fiddles with the different taps to try and get a response. “think it could be the solenoid valve,” he explains, “so basically, there’s a coil inside this valve and lifts a plunger which is what lets the water run through. if the coil breaks, then no water can come through. i’m gonna have to take this off the wall first and then do some testing, then maybe do a replacement. but, i might be here for a little while.” reuben then says as he starts to unscrew the fixture from the wall. “it should only be a couple hours though, then you can get that flour off your face, you mess.” he teases with a grin.

#bex.

baileyxsamuels:

“I’m sure it’s something very stupid like that and I’m not very good with that type of stuff anyways.” Bailey laughed at himself some more as he rubbed the back of his neck slowly and then put his hand back down at his side. “Sure, I can do that for you.” Bailey nodded towards Reuben as he walked over to the Keurig to make him a cup of coffee. “I’ve been good, and yourself? I am settling in well right now, just trying to make more friends here because sometimes i suck at socializing unless it comes to my job.” And that was true, Bailey was great when it came to socializing with patients but in the real world, he could definitely use some work.

•

“you’re an angel,” reuben says, placing a hand upon his heart. “aye, not too bad,” he then says as he heads over to the pipe in question to start working as bailey makes a start on the coffee. it was always a quick way to reuben’s heart, a way to keep him happy as he worked. “i’ve been quite busy over the past few weeks so that’s good, i’m still trying to figure out my brand though, you know? i can’t just be known as reuben the repairman. quite borin’, ain’t it? glad to hear you’re settling in though, it gets easier,” he knows from experience. three years back and he was the new face in town, it was daunting at first but slowly he made the circle he had now. “honestly, i’d suggest just goin’ to bars, talking to people at the cafés and things. that’s what worked for me. and you can always come with me to hang out somewhere, meet some of the people i know.”

#bailey.

babyfcknreed:

“I don’t pay the bills around here, so,” Baby just shrugged her shoulders, fingers tapping away on the keyboard of the store’s computer, “Keep your tools to yourself, and just make sure that stupid shelf isn’t going to come down again.” Maybe she should make some semblance of an effort to be friendly - her boss would have at least liked her to be friendly with the repairman, at least - but with an entire pile of broken inventory on her hands, it was safe to say her stress levels were reaching heights she didn’t quite know what to do with. Not responsibly, at least. “Please.” It was tacked on a moment too late, but she figured it was better late than never. “And get your own coffee, Mcilroy, you literally have to know where the break room is by now. You’re here often enough.”

•

“it might still come down,” he says, “i might purposely leave a screw out just to fuck with you.” reuben teases, giving baby a playful little wink. he finds her cold exterior to be rather endearing, finding it to be a little game to see if he can drag a smile out of her if he can, even if it’s very small then it would still be a win in his book. “aye, course i know where it is,” reuben says with a shrug, “but the coffee you make is just so good. pretty please?” he bats his eyelashes at her, hoping the puppy dog eyes might just work this time around. “you know, i think sometimes you’re the one who breaks things just so you have an excuse to see my handsome face again.” reuben jokes.

#baby.

status: closed | @e-hampton location: delia’s cafe

ever since he first found this spot three years ago, reuben makes a habit to visit at least three times a week and always on a thursday. it’s because of an unspoken agreement, a chance encounter with elliott on one day that soon became a weekly habit since last year when they first met. honestly, it was one of the highlights of his week and as he sits at their table with both their drinks, a grin spreads across his features as he spots the other walking in. “hey, handsome!” he greets, getting up from his chair to embrace the other in a hug. reuben squeezes him tightly, before sitting back down. suddenly it’s like he forgets about the anxieties he’d been facing the past few days, instead all he cares for is asking how his friend has been. “what’s been goin’ on?” the scot asks, pushing his coffee mug across the table to him. “tell me everything.”

#elliott.

hank-bramson:

“Are you sure that’s in your job description?” Hank says with a chuckle. Thinking only of the paranormal as he talks about the strange noise in someone’s basement. Inherently, basements are eerie, Hank was glad he didn’t have to deal with that here. The rest was a bit of a mixed message. Reuben was sounding like he wanted to run out the door. If he’d made another comment about needing this to be quick, guilt would have been crippling enough that Hank would admit he could do this himself. He’d still maybe pester a friend to come over, just in case it went wrong but now Reuben was talking about how he was happy to help. Hank gave a confused look to the room.

His eyes going wide for a flash at the talk of working up a sweat. The mixed signals continue and Hank reassures himself that this one is his own doing. Perhaps he needed to get out more. “I work in a library so I can’t really relate to that,” he says too easily and knowing that is among the worst answer he could possibly give. Though he’d never been terribly good at chess. or flirting Following Reuben to the bathroom, Hank stays in the doorway to give space and allow him the space to cringe over his spotless bathroom. With little more than necessary in the room it was very Hank but he was suddenly picking apart everything in it.

“The heat here is no joke,” Hank says quickly. It’s easily the most relaxed sentence he’s said to date. Something that lasts for seconds before his eyes drop to the floor and moves a step back. Not because he’s thinking about Reuben taking a cold shower but because of the thoughts that Reuben might be thinking about him taking a shower. A thought that’s mortifying on too many levels. “I was here last summer and it was, um, well, it was surprisingly. I almost broke down and bought shorts. They don’t, I mean, I’m too English for it and it’s just, um, wow, yaknow? Wow?”

•

“aye, i don’t think it is but i’m silly enough to agree to investigate,” he chuckles, “i’m hoping it’ll be a burst pipe that’s causing a racket as opposed to something scuttering around down there.” reuben shudders at the very thought. “i might hang around here a little longer, maybe whatever it is will disappear by the time i arrive later on.”

reuben gives a small shrug at hank’s words, “i don’t know why but i’m not surprised you work in a library,” he comments, hoping that didn’t come across as rude, “you seem like the intelligent type, i mean. like, you completed school and you know big words and all their meanings.” reuben was lucky enough to remember how to spell his own name. he’d never been very good at school, coming out with just two gcses that were in PE and woodwork, neither higher than a C. books just weren’t for him, he found them difficult to follow, his brain never allowing him to pay attention long enough and the words always seemed to melt together on the page.

reuben starts to unscrew the original shower head as hank speaks, giving a few nods here and there to show he’s listening. “bloody boilin’, right?” he agrees, “i’m used to snowy mountains til at least april time, so this was a big change for me. i definitely prefer the cold. when it gets too hot it makes it uncomfortable for me to work with this thing on,” he taps against his prosthetic leg, “lost count how many times it’s slipped off because i’ve sweat too much.” reuben laughs loudly, he really hasn’t any shame. “shorts would look good on you though,” he then points out, glancing over to hank to give a playful wink.

#hank.

dylancrane:

“jeez, you’ve got a short temper,” she pauses on the melodramatics watching the increasingly agitated handyman that was now in her home. he’d only been there for about twenty seconds by her count and he was already sick of her. it made her miss grayson… she was the inescapable force, he was her immovable object. it wasn’t as fun with someone she\d built less report with, he barely understood her tone or quirks. she crosses her arms, “chill, i’ll just push it down and yell so nobody gets hit on the way to the bottom, i picked it up from the refurb place anyway,” she examines him intently, “don’t worry, i’ll pay your hourly rate for your 2 minutes of trouble… do you have any other handy skills?”

•

this wasn’t reuben losing his temper. sure, he was agitated, but he was far from getting pushed over the edge to be angry or to yell. if anything, he just wanted to walk away from the situation because he had no time for it. he didn’t like to be messed about, especially not when it was supposed to be money in his pocket for a job and he couldn’t afford to miss his rent again. “i don’t mean to be short with you, ma’am,” reuben finally says, though he feels its a justified reaction, sighing deeply through his nostrils, “but i’m here to do a job and i still don’t quite know what it is that you want from me. i’m not the smartest guy in the world, so i can’t exactly read between the lines and whilst i’m guessin’ you’re just tryin’ t’ be funny with me, it is quite frustrating.” he frowns at her next comment, “that’s a little condescendin’, ain’t it?” he then says, for he hopes it would be obvious that he is trained and skilled in all aspects of repairwork considering his status as a professional. “undermining my work and what i do. i don’t exactly enjoy being disrespected so i think i should be on my way. enough of my time has been wasted.” reuben knows he could have handled this better but he started the day already agitated. to be questioned, reminded that anybody could do what he does, well, that only makes him feel more like a failure.

#dylan.

baileyxsamuels:

Bailey was the worst when it came to maintaining his apartment. He was very smart when it came to some things, but this kind of stuff was not his strong suit. He was glad that Reuben was able to come over once again. He had only been here for two months and yet again, he was already calling him over to help him out with a problem. “Alright, well there is a leak under the sink in the bathroom this time. I can definitely make you a coffee.” He replied as he smiled softly and then he walked himself over to his keurig. Want anything in it? And I have plain, hazlenut, or vanilla.” He mentioned to him.

•

reuben doesn’t mind the call outs, it was what paid his bills after all and he genuinely loves what he does. he’d never been the smartest kid in school but he’d always been good with his hands, so this really was well suited for him. “might just be a dodgy pipe,” reuben muses as the other points out the prolem, nothing he’s never seen before and no doubt a nice quick fix. “oo, you know what, a little vanilla syrup w’a wee touch of sugar would be gorgeous.” he says. “how’ve you been, anyway? you settling in all ok now?” he remembers how it was when he first moved here a few years back, it was funny how quickly it became home.

#bailey.

dylancrane:

boy, oh boy. “the audacity,” she crunches on another of her crisps from the bag making no effort to move, a scathing glare from sparkling green eyes. “i was going to offer you a crisp but with this attitude you’re not getting anything,” she slides her legs off, boots meeting with the ground as she marches over to the dishwasher placing her crisps on the counter and wiping crumbs over her denim shorts in an ever so lady-like manner.

how dare he ask her questions about her plans… didn’t he know she was always right. “firstly, is it wrong to want to save time by not having to be here to wash these dishes? look at this place,” she gestures to washing strewn over chairs and a tilted painting on the wall, “i live in a state of crisis, it’s not my fault i was born this way,” she pats the dishwasher, a dramatic glance as she wraps her arms around it, “we’re like romeo and juliet, meant to be apart.”

•

brows knit to a frown, reuben isn’t quite sure what’s going on and whether or not maybe this was some sort of prank. “look, i got called to say i was needed for a job, so i’m here and just tryin’ to work out if you do require my services or not. maybe i have the wrong place.” he’s getting increasingly frustrated because he feels he can’t win. he just wants to do his job, get paid and then move onto the next customer but this was becoming difficult. “aye, you can do whatever you want with a dishwasher, i canny care less,” he then says, “so if you’re meant t’be apart then you want me to chuck it, or what?” reuben then mutters beneath his breath, “though, i didn’t think it said disposal man on my business card.”

#dylan.

hank-bramson:

Hank nods, his hands clasped together now that he has nothing to hold. It will be easy and he knows that. “I’ll put the kettle on then.” It’s almost like he’s trying to flirt with the line but Hank just knows the power that statement holds for himself. A good cuppa. He knows exactly what to do and doesn’t offer up any of the fancy flavored teas or blends he bought off pure pretentiousness. This is a good old taste of home situation.

Slowly working his way into the kitchen, Hank knows his apartment is small enough for them to keep talking. If he can hear the neighbors, he can hear Reuben. “Yeah not sure, I mean, obviously you have other things to do. I know that. Of course you do. We all do, right? And you’re working,” Hank pauses and takes a breath. “I hope it’s not too much trouble for you and you’re able to do it quickly.”

If Hank were braver, quicker, or more clever, he’d have said something about coming back to find out how it is or test it out. The comment opened so many doors but all Hank did was flush a little and agree. “I’ve always wonder about those ones,” Hank mimed, with both hands, various showerheads. Trying to communicate a point he didn’t have words for.

•

“perfect,” reuben’s grateful, usually whenever he’s offered a tea he makes the mistake of accepting it, only to received some of that iced nonsense instead. no, he lovesthe regular black tea, hot, and of course he’s a sucker for a scottish blend but any british teabag will do.

“i’ve a few jobs on later, one is that there’s an apparent strange noise coming from someone’s basement and i must admit, i’m not exactly excited about going to that one.” it wasn’t that reuben believed in the paranormal, more that he believed in rats and spiders and he definitely was not a fan of either. “not too much trouble at all though,” reuben then assures with a warm smile, “you know i’m always happy to help you. i like comin’ over and seein’ how you’ve been.”

he takes several of the screwdrivers he needs to tuck them into his belt for easy access, along with other tools that may be useful. for the most part it seemed the box came with everything you need and he can’t help to wonder if maybe hank could have done this himself. reuben keeps quiet, but he can’t help the little cheeky grin tugging at his lips, the thought that maybe hank just wanted to see him. “they’re really soothing, especially if you’ve been workin’ up a sweat all day, they really cool you down,” reuben explains, heading into the bathroom but still being able to hold conversation through the walls. “now the weather is getting warmer, those cold showers are exactly what you need.”

#hank.

dylancrane:

doc clad feet atop the dryer, it spins and rumbles on the apartment floor but she’s busy stuffing another cheese straw between her lips. a crunch, a chew, little mind to the man standing in front of her. dylan was pretty handy herself but maybe at times the stubbornness that clouded her vision and made her head grow bigger with each day got the better of her. she gestures to the dishwasher beside it that’s migrated it’s way into the middle of the kitchen, “no space for it there, shame after i pushed it up six flights of stairs…”

•

he raises a brow at her, a little confused by the response, “so, the dishwasher is fucked and it needs gettin’ rid of or you want it fixed and to find a good spot for it?” he asks her, fingers scratching at his head lightly. “don’t think i’ve ever used a dishwasher in my life, you know. rather just do it by hand, i mean either way you have to soak the dishes before they go in, or rinse them when they come out, seems like the dishwasher is just an added step.”

#dylan.

thaeleaflynn:

“i tried,” she said, with a bashful shrug. “but! i appreciate you so much,” she added, offering him a warm smile. “i can’t help it! i have so much hair and it has to go somewhere!” she joked, laughing softly. she nodded at his request, blushing. “you know it’s the french press. makes all the difference!” she said, turning on her kettle of water. once it started whistling, she poured the boiling water into the french press to preheat it before making his coffee. after a few minutes, she brought him his coffee. “here you are!”

•

“i love that you do!” and he genuinely means that, not that it would have matteed if she didn’t because either way, reuben was more than happy to offer his assistance whenever it was needed. he laughs softly at her response, she definitely made a good point. “you’re right! though, you’ve also reminded me to get booked in with a barbers because my hair is getting out of control,” he chuckles, lightly threading his fingers through his hair to show how ‘long’ it had gotten. “i’ve been eyeing up one of those machines that do all the fancy frothy milk. it’s the epitome of laziness though, that’s the only reason why i want it so i can press a button that does it all for me.” reuben grins, before holding up a finger. “oh! save that boiling water, i’ll use the rest for the drain,” he says, before taking the mug in his hand and giving her a warm smile. “you’re the best,” he thanks, “it smells incredible. coffee is the quickest way to my heart, and biscuits.”

#thae.

hank-bramson:

Had Hank’s apartment had a few more problems since finding a local handyman? Maybe. Perhaps. He wasn’t going to say either way.

Was he also capable of repairing planes and therefore perfectly capable of installing a new, fancier showerhead? Well, yes. Though he did live alone and between his height, the slick surface of the shower/tub, and his leg this might have been the most justified reason since the first time. It wasn’t but….almost.

“This.” Was all Hank offered as he held the box up. A new showerhead that would filter the water better. He wasn’t the best at all this. A quiet man who was known to ramble and make a fool of himself, he found himself opting to say little when the handyman came round. Not that it stopped him from acting like an over eager puppy though. One who’s brain was busy trying not to short circuit. “I don’t have coffee,” Hank said in one word. Shutting his eyes tight for a half a second, he looked at Reuben. “Would you care for a cup of tea instead?”

•

reuben isn’t quite sure how many times exactly he’s been by hank’s apartment in recent months, but it isn’t anything he’s too upset by. he likes the other’s company, even if sometimes it appears he comes off as shy and shares minimal conversation. reuben doesn’t mind, he can talk for days and often will do just that -- he loves to ramble, sharing stories as he works.

he reaches to the box and gives a nod, “oh, perfect,” he says, “this’ll be easy enough to do. a quick fitting, i think.” he forgets sometimes that hank has tea, and hearing the man say the word has reuben placing a hand upon his heart, “oh, i would fuckin’ die for a good cuppa, hank,” the scotsman responds, “milk and two sugars, please.” it wasn’t exactly a standard builders tea, but then again, reuben wasn’t exactly a builder.

“i’m hopin’ this won’t take too long,” he reiterates as he starts unpacking the box, looking at what contents were inside and checking his screwdrivers all fit. “you’ll have to tell me how it is when you’ve used it,” reuben then says, “i’ve been looking at one of those heads where you turn it to create a mist-like shower.”

#hank.

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