Sweet Guy
By Missy Title: Sweet Guy
Author: Missy
Fandom: Laverne and Shirley
Pairing/characters: Lenny Kosnowski; Laverne DeFazio
Rating: PG
Prompt: Unrequited Love/Pining
Word Count: 500
Spoiler: General show spoilers.
Warnings: (if any or choose not to warn) : adult content
Summary: Lenny pines after Laverne, all the while knowing she'll never be his.




Every day, and every night, he finds himself hovering outside of her window, crawling on his knees, peeking through the tiny window leading into her living room. Just to make sure the pinkish white light pouring in off the lamps emanated from her place, not a fire or some unknown disaster.

And there she was, as always, sitting in her robe, doing her nails, having fun. Sometimes he'd be unlucky enough to witness her with one of her boyfriends and have to stammer and back away, pretending he hadn't accidentally witnessed a kiss that lasted too long, a hand straying southward toward something he'd never have the grace to feel her caress upon.

She turned him away as she would a three-year-old, and he left with whatever he'd excused himself to retrieve - a mallet or a knife, of a box of Rice Krispies. She'd hand them over, chuck him under the chin and send him back out into the cold with a little smile.

And then he'd stand in the hall and wonder what he was gonna do with this lard, this tablecloth, when he had no plans for the night, no dreams of what to do with himself.

It was an unspoken fact that he wasn't invited inside.

***

Sometimes she lets them both in - sometimes she let him in all by himself - and then they'd sit together on the couch and he'd lean in close enough to smell her shampoo and her exotic, sandalwood-redolent cologne. They'd share a bucket of popcorn and a midnight creature feature movie, and her little fingers would curl around his upper arm and squeeze down hard whenever something scary happened. His skin would twitch involuntarily underneath her soft hand, then relax, melt like someone had set him next to a warm stove.

The monsters are more romantic than he is, but at least Lenny knows how to try. Laverne's more interested in the plot, anyway, and she'd rather worry about what that jerk Ted (or Bob or whatever the hell his name actually is) thinks about her. The night seems to take forever to finally come to a close, but when it does she just hugs him with greasy, popcorn-stained hands. Then she kisses his forehead and sends him away.

"You're a real sweet guy, y'know."

He knows. And knows he has to be one around her, even if his feelings aren't always sweet.

***

Sometimes, they go bowling together, and they're on the same team, and he watches her bow and swoop with the motion of the ball. He's memorized the way her shoulders tense and the smooth, even stroke of her muscles, the play of her behind. Walking, swimming, dancing - he's memorized her body lines like the back of his own hand.

But she's never noticed his body. Not once.

***

"You're a really great guy, Len," she says, bundling him up in his jacket. "And someday you're gonna make a girl really happy."

But not her. He's always known that.