Work Text:
Robby loves Duke’s garage. He loves coming in at night after his shift when Duke is technically closed, Robby on the concrete floor and Duke standing or sitting beside him. Duke will get down there with him when necessary, but he likes to tell Robby to use his fresh joints. Robby thinks they have different definitions of fresh.
Usually, it’s just the two of them and metal and grease. Robby does what Duke says, moves aside when he can’t. He doesn’t have to think about anything but the bike and catching the occasional peek under Duke’s tank top when he stretches.
The thing is, when Robby went to see the grizzled old mechanic recommended to him after asking around, he really hadn’t expected him to be hot. That was probably on him. One look at Duke pulling his hair up before taking a look at the engine had Robby weak. Robby had been 18 years old when he had seen Sam Elliot in Road House. There’s not much he can do about his psychosexual development.
Ever since, he’s been easy for curly gray hair and a beard, but that was mostly between him and a few very specific New Orleans bathrooms. Those had gone with the storm, anyway.
Even after realizing that he was somehow still susceptible to the same charms he was as an intern, Robby figured it was irrelevant. That had lasted until he had tripped over a toolbox when Duke changed his dirty shirt at the end of the day, distracted by scars and tattoos and the muscled back of a man who refused to slow down, seventy-some-odd trips around the sun be damned. There are places one expects a shirtless man to be. Robby’s place of work is one of them. Duke’s isn’t. The smirk on Duke’s face almost had Robby falling to his knees right there. So Duke knew.
Still, Robby figured Duke was probably straight. Until the flirting started. Leaning in too close here. Lowering his voice too much there. His hand at the small of Robby’s back.
Robby had made a move, once. He had turned around when he felt Duke at his back, putting them chest to chest, and brought his hand to Duke’s hip. Duke had let him, but he stopped Robby short of a kiss with a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t think so, Mike,” Duke said, as gentle as Robby had ever heard him.
Robby groaned. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because I learned how to kill a man before you were born,” Duke said with a shrug.
Robby felt his cock twitch in his cargo pants at that. He’d told himself he’d come back to why later. He hasn’t.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m too young for you?” Robby asked, incredulous.
Duke dipped his thumb into the hollow of Robby’s throat. His touch felt feather-light and incredibly heavy at the same time. “I’m old enough to know when it’s not the right time for something. I’m not saying never, but let’s put a pin in it, kid. Gotta keep you coming back somehow, huh?”
There was finality in Duke’s voice, so Robby decided to take what he could get.
That had been three months ago.
Duke’s voice has been hoarse for the past few weeks, but it’s especially noticeable in Robby’s ear as Duke looks over the small repairs he trusts Robby to make. He’s standing so close that all Robby can smell is tobacco and motor oil.
It worries Robby. Among other reactions.
“You’ve got to quit fucking smoking, man,” Robby says.
Duke laughs, low and raspy in Robby’s ear. His necklace swings forward and brushes between Robby’s shoulder blades. “‘Fucking smoking.’ No can do, kid. I’ve been smoking longer than I’ve been fucking, and I’ve been fucking for five years longer than you’ve been alive. Can’t give up something that feels good after having it for so long. Especially when I’ve put in the time to get accomplished at it.”
Robby’s hand tightens around the wrench he’s holding. Duke looks down to check Robby’s work; a lock of gray hair fallen out of his ponytail brushes against Robby’s cheek.
“You’re a great lay, so you won’t quit smoking?” Robby asks, keeping his voice as even as possible. The information gives him a little thrill, but he’s not sure he follows the connection.
This time, Duke’s laugh falls across Robby’s earlobe. “I’ve worked myself up to two packs a day, so I won’t quit smoking. That took years of concerted effort.”
Robby sets the wrench down. He knows he’ll never hear the end of it if he drops it. He tilts his head back to look up at Duke while he wipes his hands with a rag. “So you being a great lay is relevant how?”
Duke smirks. “Because it makes you blush so pretty. Besides, did I really need to tell you, or did you already know?”
Heat burns on Robby’s neck and cheeks. He didn’t know, but he had been pretty sure. “Can we get back to the bike?”
Duke’s hand is huge and heavy and hot where he squeezes Robby’s shoulder. “If you think you can focus, sure.”
Robby doesn’t mind when Duke touches him. Likes it. Craves it, even. Duke is like Jack in that way. Their touch is good, grounding, never startling. Focus, Robby thinks. Not likely, but neither is Duke letting Robby suck his cock in the middle of the garage, so. He’ll take what he can get. It’s becoming a refrain.
“I’ll do my best.” Robby picks up the wrench again.
“Good boy,” Duke says.
The wrench almost clatters to the ground, but Duke’s hand shoots out to catch it, like he was anticipating the need. He laughs, low and dark. “Careful with an old man’s tool, son.”
The gentle admonishment sends heat down Robby’s spine and blood racing to his cock. He almost says yes, sir before he can stop himself.
Duke presses the wrench back into his hand. Their fingers touch far longer than necessary, Robby looking down at Duke’s scarred thumb against his.
“Try again,” Duke says. He nudges Robby’s thigh with the toe of his boot. “See if you can keep the garage standing while I go for a smoke.”
Robby rolls his eyes. “I am fifty-five years old and the chief of emergency medicine at a tier one trauma center.”
He’s pretty sure he can handle not destroying a garage, if he says so himself.
Duke laughs and squeezes the back of Robby’s neck. “And I got that scar you were staring at before you learned how to read. Behave for me while Daddy runs an errand.”
That hits Robby low in his gut, cock chubbing up faster than he thought possible anymore. He stays down on his knees working while Duke walks outside, partly to hide his bulge and partly because Duke told him to. He takes a few deep breaths and gets back to work, determined to get it right this time.