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Mako had tried to be a decent citizen. Sure, when he was younger he had shoplifted and gotten into one too many fights, but those were minor things. Anyone could do that, it didn’t really make him a bad person. Just a person who’d made mistakes, just like everyone else. When he was adult, he didn’t go to college, but he wasn’t stupid. He just became a regular working man like everyone else, and even became a mechanic. He was good at his job, he made decent money, and he was content.
Then he met him. Some socialite, some airheaded blonde, some man he would have never actively wanted to meet. They met about two years ago, during the summertime, when he was working at some little garage for some man whose name he didn’t exactly remember, though he knew he had been a good man. Mako had just been tinkering with some parts, what with it being a slow day, when he drove in.
Mako had only dreamed of seeing a car like that. 1961 Ferrari, painted a glossy, classy black. The large man had dropped whatever he had had in his hands, his mouth agape at the sight of it. He knew that this was one of the most expensive vintage cars out there, and he wondered who in the hell would be able to afford that and be coming to this shop.
When the driver stepped out, he was even more shocked. A tall, skinny, pale blonde man with a loose orange tank top and denim shorts. He lifted the sunglasses from his eyes to look around for someone to assist him. He looked like he was about to call out before Mako stepped his way over, almost intimidated by the wealth before him. He heard the disappointed groans from the other men behind him, all of them either wanting to work on the car or the driver.
Mako got to him first, though, and he began to introduce himself before he was interrupted by a thin hand in his face.
“Ya good with oldies, mate?” he asked, an Australian accent already very, very apparent. He looked like impatient, like he was holding auditions for whoever could fix his car and he was more than ready to just yell for the next contestant.
“Sure am,” Mako said, voice more confident than he expected it to be, especially since he felt so small next to the Ferrari. “What needs to be fixed?”
The blonde grinned and lowered his eyelids. “How bout ya find out?”
Mako raised an eyebrow, suddenly unsure. This guy had completely changed his tone, and it was weird. Very weird. Still, he wanted nothing more than to pop open that hood and inspect every piece of it that was inside. He would find the problem in no time at all, with his own eagerness.
He wasn’t wrong, it took him less than a half an hour. Turns out the air conditioning wasn’t working, and it looked like the brake pads were going to need to be changed as well. When he told this to the driver, he looked ecstatic.
“Oi, mate, how ’bout ya be my personal mechanic?” he asked, his tone low and his hands on his thin hips. “I can pay ya real good. Getcha outta this place.”
The mechanic wasn’t going to lie to himself, it was very tempting. But he also knew next to nothing about this guy, and even though he was attractive in his own weird way, Mako wasn’t sure if he was worth quitting this job over. Hell, he could just be borrowing this car, he didn’t know for sure if he was even actually wealthy.
“I’ll think about it.” Mako stated simply.
The blonde pouted for a brief moment before brightening up again, a shrill laugh escaping him as he scratched the back of his neck. He looked nervous all of a sudden. “Ah, well, could ya at least fix my air? ’S hot as all hell out ’ere.”
“Of course, sir.” Mako stated again, though this time a blush and strange laugh came from the blonde.
It didn’t take too much time to fix the car after that. Air conditioning and brake pads weren’t difficult, so he got those done in about an hour. It probably would have taken less time if the blonde hadn’t been talking to him the whole time, pretty much about nothing. Mako half listened, since he was only half interested. He almost wished this little meeting of theirs would be over soon, but he also liked how into the blonde was with whatever he was talking about. It was cute, in a way.
By the time the car was done, the blonde almost looked disappointed. Why that got under Mako’s skin, he didn’t know, but it did. He reached to grab a card from the desk beside him as the blonde was sadly sighing and getting into his car.
“Hey, wait,” Mako said, his voice awkward. He didn’t like how dramatic this felt. “Take this. In case you need another fix.”
The blonde brightened and he stepped out of the car again, holding out his right hand for a shake. Mako reached out with his own left hand before realizing that the blonde’s entire right arm and hand were metal. Prosthetics? How had he not seen that before? When he looked down even more, he saw a peg leg. Was he really this unobservant when he saw a pretty face and a nice car?
“Oh, yeah, sorry mate, forgot about that.” Nervous laughter as the prosthetic hand was replaced with an organic one. “Metal’s probably hot, what with the weather n’ all.”
Mako shook his hand and he couldn’t help but to notice the shiny diamond ring on one of the thin fingers. He tried to ignore the disappointment creeping up in the back of his mind, and instead let go almost immediately.
“Have a good day, sir,” he rushed out, turning his back to the married man and going back to whatever he was fiddling with before.
He didn’t turn around when the blonde closed his door and drove off.
~~~
It didn’t take long for Mako to see the ferrari drive back to where he worked. Two days, probably. He tried to ignore it, to avoid the married man, but he had been asked for specifically. He could hear the blonde’s loud Australian accent speaking with his boss from across the shop.
“I was ’ere a couple a’ days ago, and a fella of yours did wonders with my junker,” he had said. “I got another problem with it and I was hopin’ I could use his services again.”
Mako could practically see the grin from across the room, pale yellow sharp canines and all. He tried to go on break, but then he was reminded of the one he already took that day. Damn his timing. He was about to sneak out the back to claim he was going on a smoke break when he remembered that everyone here knew about his asthma. What a day.
His boss found him quickly, practically cowering behind a car that belonged to someone who had worked there years before, but had never claimed it. It was like a job car at that point, everyone used it when the shop needed to get more parts right away or when someone got badly hurt. Thankfully they hadn’t needed to use it much, but Mako wished more than anything that he could chop off his finger or something to have an excuse to drive away.
Instead, he was stuck with his boss telling him to help out with the man towards the front. Mako couldn’t help but to notice the new bulge in his boss’s pocket. Bribery? For Mako’s work? He would have been flattered if it weren’t for the fact that the blonde was married, and he had an idea of what the skinny man wanted from him.
This time, when Mako eventually approached him, he was wearing a crop top instead of a regular tank top, and it was a paler orange. It was as though he’d accidentally bleached and cut his tank top in half, though the straps on this one were closer to either snapping in half or falling off his shoulders. Why that made Mako swallow a lump in his throat, he wanted to keep ignoring. If he had to do this, he was going to be professional about it.
“So, what’s the problem this time?” he asked, crossing his arms. He didn’t mean to look intimidating, but the blonde still shrunk under his size slightly, a cherry blush tinting his cheeks rather quickly.
“’S missin’ a passenger,” he said, all teeth again, though he almost stuttered.
Mako was a little confused. “What do you mean? Is something wrong with the passenger side?”
The blonde looked a little helpless, like he was trying to explain something simple to a child but the child wasn’t getting it. “Yeah, you’re not in it.”
A few more seconds and Mako understood. A slightly irritated sigh escaped him. “Two days isn’t exactly enough time to think about a total job change, sir. I don’t even know your name.”
“Oh! Roight, roight, forgot ’bout that part,” a nervous laugh escaped him before he puffed out his chest. His abs were clear and Mako swallowed hard yet again. “Name’s Jamison Fawkes. How ’bout you? What kinda name does a bloke like you have?”
“Mako,” the mechanic said, a little apprehensive about giving out his name. He hadn’t needed to in a long time. “Rutledge.”
“Ooo, exotic,” Jamison cooed before giggling shrilly. Mako scowled and huffed, embarrassed. Jamison noticed this and stopped laughing. “Oh, no, wait, I ain’t laughin’ at you, mate. ’S just a nice name.” This time he smiled again, but it felt more genuine. Mako relaxed.
“Thanks,” he replied. “Still can’t go with you.”
That made the blonde stomp his peg leg angrily. “Why not?!” he whined, his entire face already looking red.
What a brat… Mako thought.
“I have a good job, and how do I know if you can pay me any better?”
Jamison reached into a black messenger bag with painted orange smiley faces and strange stickers all over it and pulled out a thick wad of cash. Mako’s eyes widened at the sight of it and he almost drooled. That had to be at least a thousand alone. He glanced at the messenger bag, which still looked plenty fat. He swallowed the third lump in his throat that day and had to eventually just cough to clear it out.
“I don’t know if I’m qualified.”
“Oh sure ya are, mate! Big, strong…” he drifted off and stared blankly for a moment before shaking his head and continuing, “and real good with cars. All a guy like me needs!”
He didn’t even know why he was actually taking it into consideration now. But the way that those big, fiery eyes were looking at him and the way the money looked in his hands crept into his mind and altered his thoughts. He sighed again, eventually closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly, making Jamison think it was towards him instead of Mako’s own decision making. His face got red again and he turned around with a huff before Mako muttered something.
Jamison whipped his head around excitedly. “Really, mate?!”
A grunt was all it took for the blonde to jump on him and practically kiss his big cheeks. The mechanic stumbled backwards at the sudden assault and already felt himself regretting it bit by bit. He pried off the blonde and told him to go home, and that they’d get everything figured out the next day.
It took maybe a month or two for the process to complete. Mako was still living in his apartment, still working on cars, and still seeing Jamison, but now he worked in a private garage on the nicest cars he’d ever seen.
It took less than a month after that for Mako to realize that Jamison was, in fact, married, but only for the money. When he got a call in the middle of the night pleading for his help with hiding the husband’s dead body, he wasn’t sure what else he should have expected. He was surprised, sure, but then again Jamison had mentioned becoming a black widow. Mako had just thought he was joking.
But after burying the body in the middle of a dark, hopefully secluded forest, it became disturbingly obvious that Jamison was not joking. When they drove home, the blonde going on and on about splitting the money and coming up with all kinds of plans on what to spend his share on, Mako thought. He thought about how much this job was worth it. Sure, Jamison was attractive, but he liked to pester Mako quite a bit. But then again, that face was a nice fantasy on a lonely night. He was also being paid handsomely, and the cars he got to work on were the cars of his dreams.
Two years later, he thought about that drive. He thought about why he made the choice to stay. Maybe he liked the cars, maybe he liked the money, and maybe he just liked that pretty face a little too much. Then again, there really was no question about it, Mako just didn’t want to injure his own pride. He knew he wanted to play in a field he would never win in, no matter how much he dreamed of a blonde sticking to his side instead of sinking into some old man’s saggy skin.
It was just easier to pretend that all he wanted was to work for a pretty face.