Work Text:
“Blitz coming! Ryan floating it to the corner of the end zone! It’s caught for the touchdown!!!!”
“Yaaassssss!” you heard your man’s booming voice coming from the living room, cheering for the touchdown of his team out of the blue. You shook your head laughing at his enthusiastic reaction. Although you were not much of a sports fan, you always found Sy’s passion for football amusing. Watching football was his way to slip into a less responsible mode, screaming and shouting with boyish fervor like never before. The image of your man, settled on the couch laidback, in his tight white tee, blue jeans and his feet perched on the coffee table, watching his match on TV and drinking beer came to your mind. It took so little to have him happy and relaxed. You smiled as you went on with the washing up.
Standing barefoot in front of the sink, you were doing the dishes, humming a little tune, being thrilled that you had Lucas back home, relishing in the domestic bliss. Having your home full of him, again. You had been halfway through with your task, thinking of how you were going to cuddle with him on the couch when you felt water down your toes.
“What the…?” you mumbled and took a look down the floor. You found yourself standing in a small pool of soaped water coming from the cabinet that was growing bigger very fast. You crouched down opening it and witnessed the pipe attached to the kitchen sink leaking- that wasn’t the right word- more like pouring water inside the cabinet and on everything you had stored in it.
“Fuck!” you yelled and darted to cut off the water running from the tap. Before you knew, Sy had run to your aid.
“What is it, bug?” he asked worriedly.
“Stand back! It’s a mess in here!” you turned to him raising your hand to a halt gesture, looking down the floor. He followed your eyes and saw the water coming from the cabinet pooling around your feet more and more as the pipe was still leaking until the sink was drained.
“Don’t move! You might slip an’ hurt yourself,” he warned you while opening the drawer and pulling some dishcloths out of it to soak up the water around your feet. He laid one on a clean spot on the floor, then came to you lifting you from your waist and letting you step on the towel to dry your feet. You giggled at the feeling of being lifted in the air like you weighed nothing and clung to his strong biceps.
“There! All safe!” He gave you a soft smile and you felt like swooning by his protective nature. He then kneeled to clean the floor and examine the damage done. After having cleaned up, he inspected the pipes and located where the problem was.
“Hmm, it seems like the pipe’s got quite a big crack under the nut that keeps it in place,” he gave you his diagnosis of the situation in his slow and irresistible Southern drawl.
“What are we gonna do? Everything is closed until Monday,” you protested thinking of how you were going to cook and do the dishes through the weekend.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’m gonna fix it. It’s nothing,” he reassured you, kissing your forehead as he walked past to get his tool case with his confident gait. You watched him as he got out of the room and then returned your eyes to the sink, scrunching up your face at the prospect of having to clean up the mess under the sink. Everything that had been stored in the cabinet looked like it was dumped in the water. You started getting things out, putting what could be cleaned up in the sink and what was ruined in the bin. You had most of it emptied when he came back carrying his heavy tool case leaving it on the floor watching the view of your ass in your leggings perked up from inside the cabinet, trying to clean out the dirty water.
“Ain’t that a sight?” he chuckled, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his head tilted on the side. You turned your head peering at him from under the sink trying to understand what he was talking about. You giggled at his comment, shaking your ass in a teasing way while you backed out of the cabinet.
“You like?”
“Mmm, lookin’ pretty as a peach!”
“Now, get down to work, mister,” you ordered him jestingly, sitting on your knees next to the cabinet. He grinned biting his lower lip.
“Yes, ma’am!”
Your eyes followed his large frame, kneeling next to you and trying to squeeze himself into the tight space, a little grunt escaping from the back of his throat with the effort.
“How can I help?” He took a moment to think about it, scratching his beard.
“Open the tool case and give me the channellock,” he asked like he was saying it to someone who had the tiniest clue of what he was talking about. You opened the case as you were told and stood there staring at the impressive collection of tools he had gathered gradually over time.
“The what?”
“The channellock,” he repeated. “A sort of pliers.”
“You’ve got like five in here, which one?” you asked, having no idea that each one had a different name.
“The big blue one, sweet pea,” he explained to you patiently, like he was talking to a really dumb person. You could hear the smile in his voice, giving away how much he was enjoying this.
“How am I supposed to know what it’s called?” you said annoyed handing him the tool.
“Now, you know,” he winked at you with a shit-eating grin, as he took the pliers from your hand.
“Smartass!” you retorted giving him a playful slap on his strong thick thigh.
“Hey! Watch it out there!” he chuckled and you laughed at his warning.
“Or else?”
“You’re gonna get it if you keep this up,” he gave you a naughty look.
“Oooh, now I’m scared!” you teased.
“Just wait till I’m done,” he said as he reached up to work on the pipe. The way he stretched made his t-shirt rise so that the V-shape of his pelvis was just slightly visible, giving you a view of his happy trail. Your eyes traveled from his waist to his muscular packed chest just looking amazing under the tight shirt, to his strong biceps flexing working on the pipes, to his face frowning and tensing trying to do precision work. You had to admit that it was even better than looking at him fully shirtless. Not sure if it was his warning or the amazing scenery in front of you but you found yourself drooling over him.
“Shit!” His voice broke you out of your dirty thoughts.
“What is it?”
“Get me a bowl and a rag, babe.” You stood up quickly and brought him what he asked for. Passing him the bowl and the towels, you noticed that his tee got wet from the water left in the pipe. He wiped his face with the clean towel and went on to empty the pipe and dry it out. Watching him wet and sweaty, working in a tight place had your sex drive going nuts.
“Getting all wet and sticky down there, ain’t you honey?” you said taunting him, your voice sweet and flirtatious. He paused and gave you a surprised glare.
“Getting cheeky on me?” he growled, leaving behind what he was doing, bringing his hands on the rim of the cabinet and pulling himself out in one swift move. You started giggling and backing down on him as he crawled towards you like a wild animal, giving you an irresistible sultry look.
“Luc! The sink! You didn’t fix it!”
“Fuck the sink!” he said in a husky, menacing voice as he came closer to you. “I’m gonna fix you first.”
“You can fix anything, can’t you?” you said in a teasing tone when you felt your back hit on the kitchen island. He had you right where he wanted, trapped and nowhere to go. He pulled you by your ankles to lay flat on the floor and caged you with his huge body, grabbing your wrists and bringing them over your head.
“Not on the floor, babe! It’s hard!” you squealed.
“The floor’s not the only thing that’s hard, bug.”