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Language:
English
Series:
Part 3 of Boys, Love and Equal Eternity
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Published:
2015-04-14
Words:
3,149
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1/1
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45
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Car, Spanners and Oil on his hands

Summary:

A short story where one desperately needs to see the other and has no better idea than have his car repaired over and over again.

Work Text:

"Oh. My. God." I groaned, hit the steering wheel with my palms and climbed out of the fuming car. I didn't forget to slam the driver door with a loud thud before readjusting my dark blue tuxedo and a thin black tie.

"Why now?!" I buried my face in my hands and sighed out loud. My fingers were trembling in frustration. I sighed again and fished my phone out of my dress pants pocket, then went straight to my contacts.

"Harold's car service station, Ashton Irwin on the phone, how can I help you?" happened to echo from the speaker when a random car repair service worker answered the calling in their office. I almost immediately refused to think to myself that the man who spoke had a soft honey-like voice with all the curlings in it and that the voice slightly warmed my frozen body up, made me kind of smiling to myself for the first time in that rushed, stressful day and for a particular moment I was strangely grateful my car broke down in the middle of an empty London outskirts road and decided to call this particular service, because if I hadn't I wouldn't really feel like everything good and everything sweet right then, just like I had.

"Hello?" the voice spoke up again and sort of brought me back to reality. I've been lost in thoughts and images, picturing that Ashton Irwin I've never heard of. He must've probably been a new worker since I used to bring my Maserati down for checks every three months. I've been overprotective about my metallic black beauty. I've had it only for two years now. It's been a huge step in my manhood. Getting this kind of a car. My father was a childhood friend with the owner, the old Harold, before we became rich. My dad's company grew big literally overnight. We've all been happy since then. Genuinely happy. It was five years ago. So now we're having taken care of our cars here instead of some expensive service. It has always been Harold's.

"I-uh-my car broke down. There's a fume and stuff. I'm on my way to London and I'm in a real hurry." I blurted out without thinking. There was a slight giggle on the other side of the line and it was one of the most wonderful sounds I've ever had the opportunity to hear.

"Okay... However, let's better start with some basic information. What is your name?" I could define a smile in his voice and I could also feel an unwelcomed heat rising up my cheeks. I was a 21 year old blushing man standing in the middle of an abandoned road with a broken Maserati and desperate look in his eyes. I was shameful.

"Uh, yeah. Luke Hemmings, that's my name. I usually bring my Maserati Ghibli down every once in a while." I stuttered and bubbled with surprising self confidence at the same time. After I said my name and the very label of my car, there was a sharp gasp and I imagined his lips parted and shocked and oh so pink and I didn't know why, but the air around me was kind of hotter now despite a cold breeze getting under my suit, ruffling my hair and it sent shivers down my spine and my arms, but there was no reason for my body to do, yet the fond voice I heard for the first time in my entire life but found so familiar and friendly and soft and silk and everything velvet. I felt my heart craving just to hear his laugh again so bad, maybe the giggle, too, and it surprised me to the point where I had to firm the grip on my phone and bit my lip to stop a deep sigh, which threatened to escape my throat and it made me blush again because it was only a voice, though I was already platonically in love, whereas he had no idea about my feelings at that moment and it made it, the thing we had, even more intimate.

Because he simply didn't know.

"Oh. Mr. Hemmings. Well, where are you? I'll send someone to pick your car up as soon as possible. Do you also need a lift? I can actually drive you home or something. I mean it wouldn't be a trouble... " he was rambling and talking and I never wanted him to stop, the image of his lips moving, sending goodnight words to me in the dark night before we both fall asleep crossed my mind and made me chuckle, because I didn't even know how he looked like, yet I could imagine his smell and it was some sort of crazy, wasn't it? It was the voice which made it slightly uncomfortable, but so pleasurable for me to talk to him on the phone. I was hopeless and helpless and maybe I was everything in between.

However, in spite of really wanting to see him I needed to be somewhere else and I had to call my dad, because that day was supposed to be my first work day in my father's company, so I couldn't really spend that particular Monday dreaming about a man I've never met and driving with him, chasing the poetic sunset if he wanted me to.

I was laughably desperate.

I apologized and told him where my car was and waited with a half smile on my lips and a sparkle in my eyes. I knew that wasn't the last time I've heard of Ashton Irwin.

***

It was Friday when I went to the service. The repairing was done and I was finally able to get my car back home. And Friday was also a day when I met Ashton Irwin personally for the first time in my not so long life.

The way he stood behind a counter, leaning against a massive ebony table, chin resting in his left palm while the other hand was messily scribblin some numbers and letters down and I wished he was drawing hearts because it would fit him so well. I didn't have to think about that twice.

I stayed at the door and stared and I knew it was him even though he didn't necessarily have to be, because I've never seen him, but I knew. I knew. He was Ashton Irwin.

And I was watching him from the distance a little bit longer, smiling happily, when thinking about how his golden locks were perfectly falling into his eyes and I wondered how they looked in the morning sun and in the moonlight at night and if he had the stars in his eyes and what colour they actually were, I admired his cheeks and the slight pink blush, I looked at his lips and felt my knees getting weaker, because I've never seen something as beautiful as him and he was like an angel, but he had those arm muscles and I wondered whether he was working out or if he was a natural god and he wore a black ripped T-shirt and that was the very first time I felt embarrassed wearing a blue shirt and camel dress pants. I didn't fit in.

He looked up.

My world stopped spinning.

I stopped breathing.

It was only a milisecond.

But it felt like years.

"Mr. Hemmings?" he asked and the voice was getting into my brain again. It was the same perfection. I was melting just like the previous time. Everything was wonderful.

"Y-yes. That would be me." I tried to smile and wave but it came out more as a cramp so I gave up and only stepped closer just to look into his eyes and get lost and lost and I fell into a river of strangeness and let the shining water play with my helpless body because I would voluntarily drown in his beautiful something green and somehow hazel eyes. I've never seen something as dreamy as how his irises were. So warm. Almost hot. But I was freezing cold. Maybe it was the blueness of my eyes.

We were so differently same.

"It's an actual pleasure to meet you. I'm Ashton Irwin. You car is waiting in the back garage. However, I need you to sign some papers and pay for the repair first. Wait a minute, please." he was professional but still so warmly welcoming. He was loveable. I thought I was falling.

***

"Oh, Mr. Hemmings? It hasn't even been two weeks since your last visit. Is something wrong with your car again?" he asked and I felt my heart rising, blood happily fizzing in my veins and I couldn't help but smiled so wide that my face was almost hurting, but I didn't really care, because I got to see him again. I couldn't wait much longer. I was going insane. He was the perfect imperfection everyone was desperately looking for, trying and failing, and I found him, but he hasn't found me yet. Although, it was completely fine, it was too early.

"Uhm, yeah. I think there's something wrong with brakes or something. It just doesn't... Feel right, I guess," I scratched the back of my neck in the most awkward way anyone was capable of and he smiled in some sort of knowing look, kind of weirdly but still sweetly and I suddenly, precipitously realized he had dimples. Dimples. I saw myself kneeling down on one knee, but my facade stayed motionless and his eyes shined bright when taking my car keys and promising to meet me when it's finished. He said he'd check it himself, air was abruptly hotter around me, and I nodded while smiling, smiling, smiling and that was the time I knew I fell.

It was three days later when I was making my way back to the service, dressed casually, it was the first time in moths I've worn black jeans and a plain T-shirt. As I was opening the glass door I heard him talking to some other worker and even though I knew it was literally immoral, I listened to their conversation.

"I'm telling you she's fine, but not that hot. She doesn't even have a waist line. She's like a square!" Ashton said gesticulating wildly when holding a magazine in his right hand.

"Your opinion is highly irrelevant. You're the gayest gay I've ever met." the other one chuckled when stealing the piece of paper from Ashton's hand and Ashton just smiled. My mind was going crazy. He actually was gay. I kind of had a chance. I didn't think, not even once, about what would happen if he was straight. I was openly homosexual and it flew across every newspaper in the city approximately two years ago when I came out with my now ex-boyfriend.

So he knew. And I knew he was gay, too. It was perfect.

I coughed a bit to bring attention to me and they both turned and stared and the other man's grin grew bigger which confused me a lot and Ashton blushed deep red and I was overwhelmed by the shade of his cheeks, he was literally adorable.

"Mr. Hemmings? Y-yeah I'll bring the papers in a minute. But there was nothing wrong with your car, though. However, I changed the brakes and added some oil to your engine and cleaned the pistons and yeah... I'll get the papers," he was stuttering and blushing, I only watched his lips moving, so lustful and kissable, irresistible.

Of course I knew there was nothing wrong with those brakes. I needed to see him so I came up with that harmless lie. My plan worked out. He bent over his chair to search through the shelves and I had almost direct sight of his bottom, my eyes grew wide and almost felt like choking, because those tight jeans... He made me feel butterflies deep down in my stomach, I felt the pleasurable weight on my chest and there was nothing but him at the moment, yet it was completely fine because he was the only thing I wanted to see when I wake up or fall asleep next to. I was becoming crazy. I met him three times. I was already so over the moon for him.

"Here you go," he handed me the papers and I gave him cash and signed at the bottom of the list and when I was returning them our fingers brushed and I felt the overrated electricity going through my hands and arms and spine and it curled my toes, because his skin was so smooth despite his work and we both stopped for a second and looked into each other's eyes, it was the most cliche thing every girl dreamt of and he was the prince, or maybe a princess, but what I knew for sure was that he could have been the one.

I started to run around, completely in awe, my heart pounding hard in my rib cage, when I heard his voice calling my name again. I've never witnessed anything better than him calling me by my name.

"Mr. Hemmings. The car. Follow me, please." I thought to myself that I would follow him anywhere if he wanted me to.

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Anyway, could you, please, call me Luke? I'm not that older, if I actually am and being called Mr Hemmings makes me wanna puke to be honest," I laughed and he laughed, too and it was like an angel's symphony.

"Alright, Luke," I was melting like an ice cream on a scorching hot day, "I'm Ashton." it was all so perfect. I couldn't believe. It was like a dream.

"Here we are, here are your keys. Have a nice day, Luke," he said fondly when giving me the metal pieces and I sat to the car and smiled because I was slightly getting closer and closer.

***

"Good afternoon, Ashton," I simply greeted the sunshine in front of me and he looked up, confused, surprised but kind of happy at the same time. And it warmed my heart to the point it made my day ten times better.

"Luke? It's been like a week since you've been here. What's the matter now?" he said, but he wasn't annoyed. Not in any kind of way. He was curious and maybe also pleased as bit. I couldn't really define the look in his eyes since there was a storm and a hurricane and everything strong in them.

They were so calming.

"Well, some douchebag just ripped off one of my wipers. You can't even imagine how mad I was. He was probably jealous, but why did he need to be so rude and destroy my car?" I was talking faster than I wanted to and I said more than to anyone, but with him it was just right. Everything about him actually seemed right.

"I'm really sorry. Some people don't have limits. I understand. I can order it and the wiper could possibly arrive tomorrow. Would you want me to call you when it's here?" he smiled again, I've never seen anyone smiling so often.

"Yes, thank you, Ashton," and that was how I got his number. And even though I was too scared to text him, the idea was still giving me dizziness in my head and I was already so sure I would wait forever.

I didn't let go of my phone for the whole following day. In case he called. But he never did. And I was so afraid. I was disappointed. Sad. Hurt. And it was nonsense.

However, when it was about 10 pm, I got a text right when I was falling asleep.

I'm sorry, the wipers hasn't come yet. I hope they'll arrive tomorrow. I'll call you then, Ash

And suddenly everything was better and I fell asleep with the thought of a certain hazel eyed boy who happened to steal my heart in the very first moment I heard his voice.

The next day, it was Saturday, he really called and hearing his voice in the morning was a thing I wanted to experience every single day. I grabbed my phone and my wallet and got my black ripped skinny jeans on again and grabbed a blue jacket, too, because the breeze was somehow too cold for a spring day and I made my way to the service, as excited as a little child before Christmas. The thrill of seeing him again was slowly controlling my whole body and I was almost running by the time I got at the door.

"Hi," I said casually just like I wasn't high over heels for him.

"Hi Luke, your car is prepared. It will be 40 pounds," he smiled again, I still felt the same about him, and typed something into the computer.

"Yeah, here you go. Thank you for calling me."

"Anytime."

My heart stopped beating.

***

It was four hours later when I parked my Maserati in front of Harold's. I was so nervous. My hands were sweating and shaking but I couldn't give up. I climbed out of the car and brushed my pants, fixed my hair and wetted my lips before opening the door. I was met with the all too familiar smell of oils and metal. But he wasn't behind the counter. There was sitting the man from before. I afraidly stepped closer to him and when he looked up I was speechless. I swallowed and coughed and played with my fingers.

"Ashton's in the back. He's working on some car." he simply said and I only nodded because he knew and maybe Ashton knew, too and I was so scared and anxious and it just hurried me and pushed me to finally make it.

I saw him under a red Wolkswagen. He was shirtless. I've never seen anyone more beautiful. He was like an ancient Greek god. His torso was covered in black dirt, his hands were oily, but he was still so beautiful. And I was in love.

"Ashton?"

"Yea-oh, Luke?" he stood up and approached me, cleaning his hands to his trousers.

"Did you break your car again? Like four hours later since you've left from here?" he giggled and I bit the inside of my cheek, because his lips were just like the pinkest, fluffiest cushions and I felt the desire to kiss them so softly and hard at the same moment.

"Ehm, no. Not really. I just forgot something." I smiled at him shyly and he looked like a confused kitten.

"What is it?"

"I forgot to ask you what would you say to a dinner at six?" I looked down to my feet and a deep blush was making it's way to my face. I sucked on my lip ring and waited. Waited.

"And I thought you'd never ask..."

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