Work Text:
“C’mon, c’mon, I cannot afford to be late today,” Chan almost cried out in desperation. He’d been trying to start this old piece of metal for 15 minutes, but the machine refused to give in. Of course, now was the perfect time for an engine or whatever else to die out in the middle of the road, on a way to an important meeting. Technically, he was not the most essential person to be present, but his boss still expected him to be there and handle the issues no one else was qualified to.
One more try and he gave up. With a sigh, he got off the motorcycle and glanced around briefly, gathering all his willpower not to kick this stupid thing several times. Which was, realistically, a pretty dumb idea. He’d end up being hurt and his vehicle would be damaged even more. And he still needed to find a way to get to work. And it wasn't even 10 a.m. yet.
Chan rubbed one of his eyes and sneezed the bridge of his nose lightly, trying to think about what to do. He still had about 40 minutes before the start of the meeting, which should be more than enough to solve the logistical problem.
Logically, there were two solutions. He could just keep standing where he was, hoping that a generous someone would pick him up or try to find a place where his bike can be fixed, at least enough to last for today. The second one seemed more adequate. Only God knew how long he’d have to wait here, with no guarantee that someone would eventually pass by and agree to give him a lift. Plus, it was kind of dangerous to rely on strangers in such urgent situations, wasn’t it? Chan was no telepath, so the situation could have an unexpected ending. Sometimes, no help was good help.
The man pulled a phone out of the pocket of his black slacks and started searching for the nearest car repair station. The results were satisfying – there was one less than a kilometer away. So luck was on his side today. Or rather a half of his daily dose. Or maybe even 25%. It was still morning, after all.
Chan grabbed the handlebar and started pulling the bike along the sidewalk. At least the wheels were turning and he didn’t have to carry it on his shoulder. Not that was strong enough to do that, but it was still a relief. Carefully, in order not to get his suit dirty, he spend the next ten minutes dragging his co-called vehicle.
“Finally,” came a long inhale. An average size building with broken cars on a display. People fussing around. A sign above the entrance had some kind of punny phrase on it, which Chan assumed to be the name of the station. He didn’t bother remembering it, though.
“Excuse me,” he said a bit too loudly, drawing attention to his persona. There was no registration desk or something resembling it and he couldn’t just wait unit someone noticed him.
“Good morning, sir.” A man came up to him, whipping dirt or oil off his hands with a towel. “How can I help you?”
“Good morning! My bike won’t start, which is very unfortunate as I should be heading to work. Can someone have a look at it and figure out what the problem may be?”
“Sure,” the man answered in English. Poser, Chan thought. “Hey, Big, give me a hand here.”
Another man, presumably Big, emerged from behind the curtain, that probably separated work and lounge zones. Typical blue mechanic jumpsuit, hair neatly pulled in a short ponytail, small silver hoop earrings. What if something stucks in his hair, Chan thought. An annoying voice at the back of his mind pointed how good looking this Big was. Chan waved it off.
“Hey man,” a wannabe Englishman continued. “Serve this gentleman right here.”
Big nodded, “And what does the gentleman want?” The tone seemed annoying, even daring.
Chan raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t remember the last time he was greeted with such attitude. However, he didn’t have time to focus on this. The most important thing now was to get to work on time, everything else could wait.
“There seems to be a problem with an engine. I got stuck in the middle of a road and couldn’t start it again. It is an emergency so would you consider being quick?”
“How quick?”
Chan lifted a hem of his sleeve, checking the time on his watch, “I have to be at work in about 25 minutes, it’s a fifteen-minute ride from here, more or less.”
A chuckle of disbelief came from in front of him. When Chan finally tore his gaze away from the watch, a pair of narrowed eyes was looking directly at him. Are you fucking serious right now? was so explicit, it was almost tattooed across Big’s face.
“I beg your pardon, but you do understand that it is an impossible task to do?” the mechanic asked.
“But maybe it is nothing serious, just please have a look at it.” Chan started to sound a little desperate. The whole situation was a bummer, timing was awful and now he had to ask this annoying smart mouth for help. It was not even noon yet.
The mechanic seemed to finally drop the attitude as he caught these small changes in tone in the other man’s voice. His expression turned serious.
“I think I have a solution. Follow me,” he said, heading somewhere outside the garage. “Hey, Ken, I’ll be back in 30.”
“Got it.” Can you pick one language to speak? Chan almost said it out loud.
*
“I’m still waiting for an explanation.” Chan said impatiently, lining up with Big.
The other man turned to him and smiled briefly, smoothing his hair. Aside from a ponytail, his temples were neatly shaved and two thin locks were sticking out, framing his face. Certainly a bold hair choice, but it suited him.
“Okay, listen,” he began. “Even if your bike is in a good condition, which I doubt, because this thing is old as hell, and just decided to act up in an inappropriate time, I still need more than 10 minutes to examine it properly, without anyone breathing down my neck, no offence.”
Chan titled his head and audibly inhaled through his nostrils. There was just something in this man that irritated him a bit, even though he hadn’t done nothing wrong. Yet.
“That is why,” he turned away for a second and threw something at the man standing opposite him. You don’t have to be able to react quickly to catch the thing; it was huge. A helmet?
“I’ll give you a ride,” the other announced, already sitting on his polished green Kawasaki, ready to go.
The amount of questions Chan previously had was now only increasing.
Big sighed and let go of a handlebar. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? I just want to help.”
Chan finally put on the helmet. Logically, it was the best solution for now. He can handle paying a little extra for this small favor. When he finally settled behind Big, the other let out a victorious chuckle.
“Hold tight.”
*
Having finally arrived at the office building, Chan took his phone out of the pocket without taking the helmet off and let out the sigh of relief. No missed calls. And his is ten minutes early. So the smart mouth before him now seemed less annoying and indeed smart.
“Can you still make it?” Big asked, unbuckling his helmet.
“You bet, thank you.” Chan smiled widely and looked at the other man. He grinned back and seemed very satisfied with himself. He looked even … cute?
“So, what’s with my bike?”
“Oh, that,” Big waved absently. “Don’t worry, I deal with it.”
“Okay. Should I visit you every day to check out whether you are done or not?” Chan eyes widen a bit when this statement left his lips. What was that? Why was he suddenly in the mood for saying … this?
Big, of course, decided to play along. “If you want me to give you a ride to work every day, then be my guest,” he didn’t stop grinning. “But, seriously, no. Just give me your number and I’ll text you when it’s done.”
Chan couldn’t understand why this perfectly logical solution made the corners of his mouth go down. His mood stayed like this until late at night, when his phone buzzed and screen lit up, revealing the message notification:
So how did the meeting go?
*
The next week was one the strangest in Chan’s life. First of all, he was texting. Actively. The task impossible by itself. Second of all, he was texting … Big. A complete stranger, a person who was just fixing his bike, doing his job in exchange for money. Nothing special, nothing serious. But then why every time Chan picked up his phone to check his boss’ requests, he was secretly hoping to get something from the other. An update on his bike, a complaint about a client, anything. He couldn’t say why they got along so fast, why talking to Big was so easy, why any text from the ponytail man made him smile a little bit wider than he usually did.
That Chan didn’t know. But there was one thing he was sure of – he didn’t want this to end.
*
After a week, Big texted him with a bike update, but this time there was no usual picture attached, just a simple:
All done! Come and check out!
A little whine of disappointment escaped Chan’s lips and he was not even ashamed to admit it.
After work, he took a taxi to the garage. It wasn’t really dark outside, but day was slowly coming to an end, so he wasn’t able to see much while looking out of the window.
Having arrived, he found Big standing at the door, playing with his phone.
“Do you have a front desk here? It’s the most convenient place to wait for clients, don’t you know?”
Big looked up and smiled. Brightly. All teeth showing. Chan’s heart started beating so fast as if he had just run a marathon and was considering the second round.
“We do have one,” Big replied, leaning back. “But after spending all day breathing nothing but dust and oil fresh evening air sounds nice.”
He straightened and gestured. “After you.”
Chan complied and entered, Big’s steps followed his. Once inside, he immediately saw his motorcycle. It looked different. No, it was still the same old pile of metal he left here a week earlier, it just seemed … cleaner? fresher? better?
“So,” Big began. “You were right, nothing serious happened. Just some minor malfunctions which are to blame on the age of this thing. Seriously, get a new one. I’m sure you can afford it. And I also polished it and put on some fresh paint. Just to get a better look.”
“It does look good, excellent job,” Chan said, running his fingers lightly across the side of the bike, feeling the cold metal underneath.
“At your service.” Big chuckled, mocking a salute.
“How much do I owe you?”
“It is on the house.”
Chan looked at him sideways, intrigued. Big was leaning against something again, propped on his elbows. Oh. So that’s where the front desk was.
“And why is that?” he asked, completely facing the other right now, hands in his pockets.
“Because,” he said, still smiling, but without teeth. There was something in his eyes. Something daring, provoking. Chan took a step closer.
“A bad way to do business.”
“Ken’s problem, not mine.”
Another step.
“Let me at least offer you a ride home.”
“On this? No, thank you. I have my own vehicle, if you remember.”
And another.
“How about a drink? All on me.”
“We have a bar here, suit yourself.”
Chan now stood so close to him, he could look into the black hole forming inside Big eyes. And in this darkness he saw a glimpse of light. And hunger.
“And what exactly do you have there?”
“Whatever you like. There also is a convenience store nearby, we can look for something there. What would you like to start with?”
“Maybe this?” Chan said and kissed Big, pressing him against the desk. What a convenient choice, he thought. The other responded immediately, pulling him closer, putting his hands around Chan’s neck. When they separated to catch a breath, Big looked up, smiling, eye glassy.
“I’ll make us something sweet.”