Shop Class
Author: emocezi
Title: Shop Class
Wordcount: 620
Rating: pg
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: Got inspiration from THIS picture. So here's some fic. :D
Puck snickered at the name on the sign up sheet for the newest addition to the school year. Kurt Hummel was written near the bottom. Oh man, he had to see this, the kid was such a fairy. He'd probably taken shop as a chance to get out of gym.
Puck kept snickering as he jotted down his name, he couldn't wait to see Kurt whining about getting oil on his clothes.
XxX XxX
“Who can tell me the problem with the car?” The new shop teacher, Mr. Weidman asked. Everyone was wearing blue coveralls, clean and bright and obviously new. Puck had done a double take when he had seen Kurt, whose coveralls were faded and stained around the cuffs, as if he'd been mucking about in cars for years.
Everyone had taken a look at the engine before hand, and Puck had stared down at the engine as if it was an alien. He knew next to nothing about cars, not that it mattered, that's what mechanics were for.
“It's the manifold.” That unmistakable feminine voice spoke up from the back of the class, startling everyone, including the teacher. “It's cracked.” A quiet snicker ran through the class.
“Very good, Mr. Hummel.” The teacher's voice was a little skeptical, and Puck snorted a little when Kurt unearthed a nail file from somewhere on his person and starting inspecting his fingers, shaping and smoothing as he ignored everyone. “The manifold is cracked. How would you fix it?” Everyone shifted, turning to look at Kurt who kept filing his nails.
“That would depend on the condition of the manifold. But, for a small crack, a nickel based welding rod.”
“Why nickel based?” Puck asked, and Kurt heaved a put upon sigh.
“Because any other metal would deteriorate the already horrible condition of the cheap cast iron they use to make manifolds out of.” Kurt's voice was gentle and condescending in the way adults talk to very young children. Puck's hands clenched into fists at the tone, still a little in shock that Hummel knew his way around cars.
“Very good, Mr. Hummel. You're father taught you well.” Mr. Weidman nodded in Kurt's direction, writing down something on his clipboard. It seemed to take everyone a few moments to realize that Kurt's father was indeed a mechanic. Though from the expressions, it had blown several minds to think about Kurt actually working on cars.
“Can I be excused to work on my project?” Kurt asked, sliding the nail file back into his pockets. The teacher nodded and Kurt hopped down off the table he had been sitting on, bending down to grab a large red tool box. It was dull, scratched and dented, and looked like it weighed almost as much as Kurt.
Several jocks shifted in a way that spoke of wanting to offer their assistance in carrying the tool chest. Puck crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to even look helpful. Kurt ignored everyone, sliding a neon blue creeper out from under the table and lifting the toolbox onto it with a rattling clank. It was a little shocking to see him display any actual strength, no whining about broken nails, no expressions of 'omg-I'm-lifting-something-heavy'. Kurt shoved the creeper with his foot, nudging it between football players towards the opposite room that held another garage.
“You have three weeks to complete your assignment, Mr. Hummel.” Mr. Weidman spoke up from where he was gesturing his other students to crowd around the car.
“What's he working on?” Jacob, one of jocks asked. Kurt's voice echoed back through the door, as smug as anyone had ever heard it.
“1967 Mustang, my baby.”
Title: Shop Class
Wordcount: 620
Rating: pg
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: Got inspiration from THIS picture. So here's some fic. :D
Puck snickered at the name on the sign up sheet for the newest addition to the school year. Kurt Hummel was written near the bottom. Oh man, he had to see this, the kid was such a fairy. He'd probably taken shop as a chance to get out of gym.
Puck kept snickering as he jotted down his name, he couldn't wait to see Kurt whining about getting oil on his clothes.
XxX XxX
“Who can tell me the problem with the car?” The new shop teacher, Mr. Weidman asked. Everyone was wearing blue coveralls, clean and bright and obviously new. Puck had done a double take when he had seen Kurt, whose coveralls were faded and stained around the cuffs, as if he'd been mucking about in cars for years.
Everyone had taken a look at the engine before hand, and Puck had stared down at the engine as if it was an alien. He knew next to nothing about cars, not that it mattered, that's what mechanics were for.
“It's the manifold.” That unmistakable feminine voice spoke up from the back of the class, startling everyone, including the teacher. “It's cracked.” A quiet snicker ran through the class.
“Very good, Mr. Hummel.” The teacher's voice was a little skeptical, and Puck snorted a little when Kurt unearthed a nail file from somewhere on his person and starting inspecting his fingers, shaping and smoothing as he ignored everyone. “The manifold is cracked. How would you fix it?” Everyone shifted, turning to look at Kurt who kept filing his nails.
“That would depend on the condition of the manifold. But, for a small crack, a nickel based welding rod.”
“Why nickel based?” Puck asked, and Kurt heaved a put upon sigh.
“Because any other metal would deteriorate the already horrible condition of the cheap cast iron they use to make manifolds out of.” Kurt's voice was gentle and condescending in the way adults talk to very young children. Puck's hands clenched into fists at the tone, still a little in shock that Hummel knew his way around cars.
“Very good, Mr. Hummel. You're father taught you well.” Mr. Weidman nodded in Kurt's direction, writing down something on his clipboard. It seemed to take everyone a few moments to realize that Kurt's father was indeed a mechanic. Though from the expressions, it had blown several minds to think about Kurt actually working on cars.
“Can I be excused to work on my project?” Kurt asked, sliding the nail file back into his pockets. The teacher nodded and Kurt hopped down off the table he had been sitting on, bending down to grab a large red tool box. It was dull, scratched and dented, and looked like it weighed almost as much as Kurt.
Several jocks shifted in a way that spoke of wanting to offer their assistance in carrying the tool chest. Puck crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to even look helpful. Kurt ignored everyone, sliding a neon blue creeper out from under the table and lifting the toolbox onto it with a rattling clank. It was a little shocking to see him display any actual strength, no whining about broken nails, no expressions of 'omg-I'm-lifting-something-heavy'. Kurt shoved the creeper with his foot, nudging it between football players towards the opposite room that held another garage.
“You have three weeks to complete your assignment, Mr. Hummel.” Mr. Weidman spoke up from where he was gesturing his other students to crowd around the car.
“What's he working on?” Jacob, one of jocks asked. Kurt's voice echoed back through the door, as smug as anyone had ever heard it.
“1967 Mustang, my baby.”