Carlos noticed that Hancock was getting anxious, but for once he didn’t feel bad about it. That was because there was nothing for Hancock to worry about at all.
“I wanna kiss you,” Carlos blurted out. “Hard. But… my hands and face are dirty. And I don’t wanna stain your coat.” A he started to flush in his face, but he kept his eyes on Hancock.
The longer it took Carlos to say it back, the more his anxiety grew. He tried to push it down, to ignore it and pretend like everything was alright, but the tightness in his chest wouldn’t go away and he was having a hard time even just speaking as it dragged on.
“I uh–– do you…. wanna go clean up?” He asked hesitantly, not particularly fond of the idea of letting Carlos go right now, afraid he might just run.
Carlos finally looked away to glance around. He spotted a clean(ish) cloth on his workbench and nodded to it. “Hand that over here so I can at least wipe off.”
Carlos’ heart was pounding. He wanted to grab Hancock and kiss the life out of him, but he didn’t want to ruin this moment by smearing grease and oil everywhere.
The Perfect Scientist 