Kurt whips around to catch sight of the approaching giant, but he feels like he's turning in slow motion. Each earth-shaking footstep taking place in the hall behind him seems to double in bass tone and echo in a dozen layered vibrations that reverberate through the shrunken student's body.
Kurt looks up, having th arch his neck all the way back. And there he is. Top-heavy with mountain ranges of muscles, Mr Martinez stands in tight black pants and a tissue-thin shirt that seems to outline every last freckle on his never-ending chest. Pecs like blimps and shoulders like great piled-up barrels. The substitute Spanish teacher gazes down with deep, caring brown eyes and scratches his scruffy jaw before finally breaking the silence.
"Are you lost, little one?" His voice is husky, and when he bends down to wrap his outstretched palm around the frightened shrinkee, he smells of aftershave. "You shouldn't be walking around out here. You could be flattened. Like a bug." His smouldering eyes regard Kurt intensely, and all the mouse-size student can do is squeak in reply. He's never been so overwhelmed by the sight of another man in his life. Good thing Mr Martinez is happy to do all the talking.
"You're coming home with me. Making sure you don't fall into the wrong hands is more important than subbing for some bored Spanish class anyway." Without giving Kurt a chance to weigh in, the Spanish hunk slides the little man deep into his back pocket and heads out to his car. Glutes flexing with every step.
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