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you bring him an ice-cold beer to reward him for all the hard work he’s doing. he slides out from under the car and stands up, and you can see his damp curls sticking to his forehead, his face and chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. he wipes his hands on a dirty rag and looks at you with an appreciative, beaming grin. he’d really like to reach out and kiss you, but he doesn’t wanna get you or the cute 'lil sundress you’re wearing all dirty.

"bless you, baby. you’re a lifesaver."

he stretches out a hand and takes the beer with a grateful nod. he takes a long swig, the condensation from the bottle dripping onto his chest as he leans back against the car for support. his throat bobs in his thick, muscled neck as he swallows. the multitude of tattoos on his skin glistens in the beaming sun.

you ask him how it’s going—what the problem seems to be with the car.

“ah, it’s the carburetor, sweet girl. just needs a little adjustment—this old thing’s been givin’ me trouble for a while now. acts up when it gets too hot, y’know? could’ve been worse, though. could’ve been the transmission. now that would’ve been a nightmare.”

his gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than usual once he’s done rambling, his smirk softening ever so slightly. he tosses the stained rag onto the hood of the vehicle, wiping his hands on his jeans before crossing his arms loosely over his chest, the beefy muscles underneath his skin shifting with the movement.

“you’re lookin’ real pretty, by the way,” he tilts his head slightly, his eyes catching yours for a beat before he glances away again, like he’s suddenly almost too shy to hold the gaze.

“that dress suits you.”

you feel your heart jump in your chest, smiling and thanking him appreciatively. when you ask if there’s anything you can do to help him and make his job a little easier, he chuckles softly and shakes his head.

"sweet of you to offer, baby, but I think we’re good. you’d probably just get grease all over that pretty dress of yours, and I’d hate to ruin it.” he pauses, glancing at you again, his expression softening.

“you’re a doll for askin’, though. always lookin’ out for me, huh?” his voice has a little teasing cadence to it, but there’s a genuine fondness in his tone. he reaches for the beer again, taking a smaller sip this time before setting it back down.

“honestly, sweetheart, you’re doin’ more than enough just hangin’ out here with me. keeps me company, y’know? makes the job a little less boring.” he winks.

“why don’t you grab yourself somethin’ to drink too? no sense in you sittin’ here in this heat without somethin’ cold. you’re lookin’ a little hot already.” his eyes dart to your face for a second, his smirk returning before he turns back to the car, reaching for a wrench.

later, once he’s finally done for the day and makes his way back inside the house, he runs a hand through his messy curls and lets out a deep, exhausted breath. he leans against the kitchen counter, his chest still glistening with sweat.

“god, that’s better,” he murmurs, voice tinged with relief as the coolness from the AC starts to seep into his skin. he stretches slightly, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he rolls his shoulders, clearly working out the lingering tension and stiffness from being hunched under the car for so long.

“you know, I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for a shower,” he laughs softly, his eyes meeting yours again. there’s a warmth in his gaze, something tender and simultaneously tantalizing.

his gaze drifts over you for a moment, and he notices the way you shift uncomfortably in your sundress, the faint sheen of sweat on your own skin catching the light. his lips quirk into a smirk, a teasing glint in his eyes as he tilts his head slightly.

"looks like this heat’s not doing either of us any favors, huh?" his voice is low and laced with amusement.

"you know," he says, voice dropping an octave as he gets closer, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead, "there’s plenty of room in the shower if you’re feeling adventurous, sweetheart. whaddya say? two birds, one stone?"

© linkykirby. All content is original and written by me. Please don’t repost, copy, or redistribute my work without explicit consent.

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