After Hours Service

Dean was fuming as he climbed into the cab of the tow truck. He had just finished paying nearly a grand to some blood sucker mechanic outfit to fix his car, and here he was, about to spend over a hundred more bucks to tow his car back to the asswipe. Man would that guy get a piece of his mind, if he was there.

Hell he didn't care who was there, they'd catch it for sure as the truck began its trip back to the garage with his car tagging along behind like some wounded beast. He hated cars and when he had called the garage to tell them he was on his way back, he had some moron telling him that all the mechanics had already left for the day.

Dean didn't care, and told the punk who had taken his call that he better have someone there when he got there, or he'd be seeing a lawyer. In all fairness, it wasn't his fault, but damn it, almost a thousand bucks to get some thingamajig fixed and here he was, broken down not more than a few hours later.

It took over an hour to get to the garage, and Dean was still in a foul mood. This whole car crap was putting a real dent into his plans. He had wanted to go cruising later, but hard to do without a working car, and even if it was, he wasn't sure it would stay that way. No way did he want to have a break down in some of those cruising spots.

As the driver manoeuvred the truck, Dean could see some fair haired kid directing the driver. They were angling it so the car would go right into the open bay door, and as he looked around, he didn't see anyone else at the garage. It made him angrier as he waited till the truck stopped, his car in the service bay.

Watching the tow truck leave he turned his attention to the young kid that had greeted him. His anger had cooled a little, and looking at the kid in his coveralls, it softened a little. Even in those baggy clothes, there was something appealing to the dirty faced young man.

Didn't take him long to find out that the kid's name was not Joe as the name tag indicated. He was Dillon, the son of the owner and while not a licensed mechanic, he claimed to have a good knowledge of cars. Dillon pointed out his own vehicle outside, that he had resurrected from the scrap yard which did impress Dean.

Bottom line was that he'd take a look to see what had went wrong, as his father was out enjoying some anniversary, and the other mechanics were either not home, or had their phones off. Perfect he had thought as he followed Dillon down into the grease pit, so they could examine his car from underneath. All the bays with lifts were filled with cars. Just one more annoyance as he trudged behind the kid, noticing the way his body swayed a little, sort of a swagger, more than anything.

Dillon wasn't one of the quiet types either. He talked non stop as he peered into every nook and cranny under the motor. He reached up and touched various greasy things, that made Dean step back a little. Like just what he needed was to get coated in that slimy shit, but then as he watched Dillon, he kind of thought about how it would be to get covered by the grease that coated the young man.

In the course of the endless chatter, Dean learned that Dillon had been working on cars with his father since he was a pimply faced 11 year old. It came out that he was now 23, and that next year he would begin his actual apprenticeship. Still he felt a bit more confident about the young man, as he listened to him talk about the various cars he had rebuilt, including the latest. No doubt the kid knew some things, but would he know enough to fix whatever was wrong with his?

A peal of joy made Dean snap his head around to stare at Dillon and take a step or two closer. Talking fast and with obvious excitement, Dillon began to explain to Dean what had gone wrong, pointing here and there with emphasis. Stepping closer, Dean couldn't help but notice the aroma of sweat and grease. In some odd way, that along with the young man's obvious excitement, made him look a bit closer at the man.

He couldn't help but notice how handsome his face was, how his nose jutted down and made him look rather boyish. The lips were bit pale, and thin. The eyes were a sort of green color and under his beanie cap, there was a mop of light colored hair. Not blonde really, but not dark like a brunette either. He could see there was some streaks though of highlight and the eyebrows were bit thin, which gave him a rather intelligent look.

Dillon quickly explained how the mechanic had goofed, and left some things loose when they should be tight and a whole bunch of other lingo that Dean didn't understand. Bottom line for him was that it would take Dillon about an hour to fix, and he'd be on his way.

That was at least good news, but he was still out over $145 for the tow. Dillon was silenced by that, as he commented that all they had in the till was $35 given it was night. He genuinely seemed concerned, judging by the expression that was on his face. He looked down at his feet, and glanced up at Dean from beneath his cap, as if trying to judge something, without being noticed. His voice was rather hesitant as he tried to reassure Dean that his father would make it alright, but that wouldn't be tonight.

Dean wasn't happy about it, and grew a little hot. Still, it wasn't the kid's fault that his father wasn't answering his phone, or had left him with any added cash either. Dillon seemed distraught over it as well but Dean couldn't help but stare at him. There was something rather exciting about the kid, and about being under the car in a pit that reeked of gasoline, and grease.

He wasn't happy but he let Dillon start work on fixing his car. Dean moved back a little, to watch. There was something about him that made him not want to leave, and Dillon, true to form, seemed unwilling to stop talking. He kept apologizing but that didn't change the feeling that he was out the tow fee. It would put a crimp in his plans to hit the bar later, as his credit card was now pretty well maxed out.

Dean sort of let that out and all it got him, was a bit of silence from Dillon. After a few more minutes of silence, he watched as Dillon suddenly cursed, then wiped his forehead with his forearm. He then stepped back and undid the top of his coveralls, and wiggles his arms out of the sleeves.

He wore a t-shirt that was stained by the grease but it was a tight fitting shirt. It showed his build off a damn site better than the baggy coveralls, that Dillon now tied up around his waist. He had a rather slender waist, but his stomach was as flat as a washboard. His pecs showed through the light t-shirt as he moved back under the car, to reach up to do something.

There was no way to not notice how his arms seemed to bulge a little from the muscles and tenseness. He saw the face uplifted, the chin jutting up that actually gave him a bit of an erection. Dean lowered his eyes, taking in the upper torso and how well proportioned it was. Without even thinking, he found himself fantasizing about Dillon, wondering if the rest of him was as well laid out?

Dean hadn't notice that the sounds of work and the grunts and groans had stopped. He was lost in thinking about what it would be like to see Dillon stripped naked, and him doing the stripping. He looked up to see Dillon staring at him, a sort of strange look on his face.

He didn't know what to make of it, as Dillon told him it was all done, but he made no effort to climb out of the pit. Instead he kept staring, almost as if he recognized him from somewhere. In the back of his own mind, he had felt that way about Dillon as well, but only now, did it seem to be real. He coughed a bit as Dillon said he'd try to get his father again, to see what could be done about the tow fees.

Dean merely nodded as Dillon pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and Dean ignored it. His eyes were instead concentrating more on the build of Dillon's lower frame, than he was in watching him make the call. Somehow he knew that Dillon was aware of his gaze, but he didn't care.

Once more Dillon failed to connect and he seemed to be thinking as he stared back at Dean. Then out of the blue, his face seemed to light up a little and the eyes narrowed a bit, as if they knew him. He felt a little uncomfortable as Dillon suddenly leaned back, totally relaxed.

'You go to Duke's on Elm' he seemed to shout and it took Dean by surprise. Duke's was the local gay bar. Panic gripped him as he stared open mouthed at Dillon, then it all came to him. He had seen him before, once or twice at the bar. He looked different then, but it was the same kid and he just smiled, relaxing a little as he nodded.

'Thought so, wasn't sure, but now I remember you, you sit in the back, across from the door'

'When I go there, yeah'

“Uh huh, you tried picking me up last time I was there, I remember it now'

'Oh? I guess it wasn't my lucky night then, I'd remember that'

'I was with friends, so, but…'

'But? But what?'

Dillon stared at Dean. The eyes were searching his and Dean felt a bit uncomfortable. In all honesty, he didn't remember hitting on the guy. He recalled going there, seeing Dillon now that it was mentioned, but that was it. He did remember that he was pretty wasted, which is why it took him so long to finally click on knowing him. He shuffled his feet, staring up at Dillon now from under his own eyes, wondering where this would lead to?

'Guess maybe I figured out how to make things right, unless…'

As he said it, Dean noticed how he was undoing the tied up coverall arms, from around his waist. He didn't know what to say, as he continued to stare. Dillon it seemed wasn't the bashful type either, as he was pushing the coveralls down, to reveal a pair of very faded jeans.

He kept his eyes averted from Dean's face as he stepped out, and then stood up to look at Dean. His eyes said it all as Dean realized that it didn't matter if he went to the bar or not, least not if what he was reading in Dillon's face was correct. Hell, he'd have spent at least that much and without half as much enjoyment as he might experience in letting Dillon make it right.

'And uh, just what have you thought of, that would uh, make things right?'

The smile that crossed Dillon's face was amazing. He could feel his own body suddenly reacting in a way that normally only happened at the bar, or in the park. He was definitely interested in Dillon, and judging by that wicked smile on his face, so too was Dillon.

'Oh, maybe seeing if what you proposed at the bar, would be uh, sufficient.'

'And that was?'

'Don't you remember?'

'Not exactly, I was a bit, uh, shall we say, loaded?'

'Haha, that's for sure, well you said you'd love to see just how tight my butt was, after you uh, drilled it. Remember now?'

Dean stared at Dillon, noticing how his hands rested on his hips, near the button of his pants. His eyes darted back and forth from his crotch, to Dean's face. There was certainly no mistaking his intention, and Dean felt himself sweating a little, as his own eyes darted from Dillon's face, to his crotch. It was an inviting package, as he licked his lips, wondering if he should or not.

Dillon seemed to sense his hesitancy, as his hands suddenly undid the top button of the jeans. He continued to just look at Dean as he pushed them down, to reveal a pair of dark boxer shorts.

Dean's eyes lit up as he noticed the hard lump that seemed to tent the front of the boxers. He couldn't believe how long it looked either as his own body reacted. There was no mistaking his own arousal as he let his eyes slowly move upwards, to see Dillon's smiling face. It was all he needed as he found his own hands were already responding, but unbuttoning his pants. He couldn't help but notice Dillon staring now at his crotch, and the look just made him feel all that more aroused.

It was bizarre, to be in a grease pit, his car looming overhead, and undressing. The place stank, but he didn't care as he dropped his own pants, noticing how much erect Dillon's cock seemed under the tented boxer shorts. His eyes couldn't help but stare as Dillon bent down, and pulled something out of his jeans, and then with a wicked little grin, tossed it over towards Dean.

'Just in case you aren't prepared' was all he said as Dean caught the condom package. He just smiled as he pushed his own shorts down, his hesitancy long gone. The desire for Dillon was all that mattered now.

Dillon's eyes widened as he stared at Dean's fully erect cock. It wasn't exactly huge, but was a bit more than average, but judging by Dillon's look, it was bigger than what he was used to. Dean heard him swallow and he laughed a little at the look that crossed Dillon's face. He stared at Dillon then pointed, wanting to see just what that long tent pole looked like out from hiding.

With a smile, Dillon turned around to face Dean fully. He put his hands on the boxers, giggled a little like a school kid, and pushed the shorts down. Dean whistled as the hard jutting pole was freed and stared at his own naked body. He felt himself tighten his body, every muscle suddenly awakened by the view of the throbbing cock jutting out.

Stepping out from his shorts, Dillon moved over towards Dean. He stared closely at Dean, his eyes showing his desire. The naked body was amazing, and it made Dean shake a little, as he held tightly to the condom package.

His eyes did all the talking as he came within an inch or two of Dean's face. He stared deeply and then ran his hand along the front of Dean's body. His hand moved quickly down to the exposed groin, as he slowly lowered himself to his knees. A slight grimace crossed his face, as he knelt on the cold concrete floor of the pit, and then with his eyes still locked onto Dean's face, his hand took hold of Dean's cock.

The shot of electricity that pulsed into his body from that touch, made him shake. He stepped back a little, as he stared down into Dillon's face. He saw him slowly grip the whole shaft, at the root, then his face turned down from Dean's, to look right at the hard pole in his hand. With a last glance upwards, he then moved his head forward, and in a second Dean felt his whole body convulse in a spasm of pure pleasure.

Dillon sucked his cock hard, and even twisted it once or twice in his mouth as he took the whole trembling cock deep into his mouth. Dean felt the head of his cock reach down into Dillon's throat as he moaned his pleasure out. His hands reached down to rest on Dillon's shoulders as he sucked on the pole. In and out his mouth went and he trembled from the sensations that run up and down his body. His legs were tightening when suddenly Dillon pulled back.

The condom package was ripped open by Dillon's teeth. In a second it was unfurled down his throbbing pole and he stared down at the working motion of the young man. He smiled at how quickly he was suited up when he felt the hard slap of Dillon's hand over his cock. He felt a strange sensation as he stared down to see that the boy had also slathered a ton of fresh grease along his aching cock.

He stared at his coated cock, and at Dillon's smiling face. The boy remarked that he didn't want it to rip him apart as he stood up and turned around to show off his firm butt. He wiggled it a little, teasing him a bit as he leaned against the concrete wall. His hands were spread out as he spread his legs open wider, to show Dean the target.

He wanted to laugh as he took hold of his cock, feeling the slippery grease and he stepped closer to the young man. He saw the firm cheeks shaking a little, realizing that he wanted to loosen the boy up a bit first. He felt the heat of the young man's body as he stepped between the outspread legs. His hand moved away from his cock, and began to prod the cheeks, pushing them apart while Dillon stared at him over his shoulder. There was no mistaking that lustful look either as he suddenly put two of his fingers together, and without any warning, rammed them deep into the small pink hole.

He heard Dillon cry out but ignored it, as he dug his fingers in and twisted them around a little. He pushed in harder hearing Dillon grunt and groan. His forehead was dripping with sweat as he pulled his fingers out, slapping the firm cheeks hard in the process. The sound echoed in the garage, as he gripped his grease coated cock. He tightened his hold near the root as he pushed the cock up at the top of the spread apart cheeks.

He slid the cock hard near the top, and made it spread apart the cheeks, moving down towards the waiting pink hole. He could hear Dillon's heavy breathing as he waited for that moment when Dean would enter him. Dean felt his heart quickening its beat as he felt the slight pressure coming from Dillon's pink hole. He smiled to himself as he counted to three, then he shot his hips out, driving his cock beyond the trembling muscle of Dillon's hole.

The cry of sudden pain bounced around the garage, but before its echo had died, Dean was moving in and out of the very tight hole. His own breathing was now become shallow as he moved faster and faster with each breathe taken. His hand gripped the shaking hips of the young man, to hold him upright as he continued to drive his cock deep into the boys ass. He could hear him moaning, hear him pleading for him to go slower, but he ignored it. After all, he had asked to be drilled.

His hips moved fast, and every few thrusts he would stop with his inward push, and twist his hips around in a circular motion, twisting the long thick pole buried deep into the quivering body of the young man. Dean could feel the boy's legs tightening, the cheeks starting to pull inwards, desperately trying to hold his pounding pole inside.

He slapped the cheeks with one hand again, and felt the body lurch a little. The head of the young man was moving from side to side, then up and down as he took the pounding, moaning constantly. Dean felt his own body shaking as he drove his cock in harder each time. He could feel his balls slapping against the boy's flesh, the sound helping to drive him onwards.

The pain in his groin grew as his balls continued to throb. His eyes were misted by the river of sweat that was pouring down from his forehead. He felt the moment coming as he pounded the still tight fitting hole. It was making him crazy as he slapped and drove inwards harder and harder. His breathing was rapid and shallow and he felt the pain in his chest as he continued to drive his cock in and out. It was coming, the explosion and he felt himself growing feint, as he pulled his cock totally out from the shaking mounds of flesh.

Ripping the condom off his cock, he took hold of it and pulled on it just once, before his body released. All the day's tension and frustration suddenly seemed gone, as he felt his hips shoot outwards, his hand jamming into the shaking lower back of Dillon. His cock reared back and spewed its cream in a steady stream for nearly several seconds. Dean could hear the hot cream striking all along the arched back of the young man, hear it strike the flesh and sizzle actually, or so he thought, as he let out a loud cry of release.

His whole body jerked and shook as he shot load after load of his milk against Dillon's body. His cry continued to echo in the silent garage, mingled with the deep moan of satisfaction coming from Dillon. His hand gripped his cock, just under the head and he shook it, getting the very last drops out. He slapped the softening cock against Dillon's cheeks, and stepped back, feeling totally exhausted.

The loud sigh from in front made him smile as Dillon slowly straightened himself up. His body was still quivering as he turned around, to look directly at Dean. He stepped back, to lean against the concrete wall, as he wiped his mouth, with the back of his hand.

'Christ' was all Dillon could say as his young body continued to heave. Dean smiled as he stepped back, leaning on the other side of the grease pit, his eyes slowly losing its glazed look. His chest was heaving, just as Dillon's was and he just smiled, his eyes focused on the still stiff cock that pointed at him.