The wrench slipped from Dex’s grease-streaked fingers, clattering against the concrete floor. He swore under his breath, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. His knuckles were raw from yesterday’s engine swap. Across the garage bay, Liam laughed — a low, rumbling sound Dex felt deep in his chest.
"Still fighting that transmission, old man?" Liam called out without looking up. He was bent over a Mustang’s open hood, the muscles in his shoulders shifting beneath his stained coveralls. The fluorescent lights caught the blond stubble on his jaw. Dex swallowed hard, focusing on the spilled coolant pooling near his boot.
Dex crouched to retrieve the wrench. Oil soaked through the knees of his worn work pants. He could smell burnt rubber and stale coffee — the shop’s usual perfume. When he straightened up, Liam was tossing him a clean rag. Their fingers brushed for half a second. Dex’s pulse kicked like a misfiring engine.
Liam ambled over, wiping his hands on a towel tucked into his belt. "Customer’s picking that heap up in an hour," he said, nodding at Dex’s half-disassembled truck. His voice was casual, but Dex noticed how his gaze lingered on Dex’s forearms. Dex flexed instinctively, heat crawling up his neck. He muttered something about needing gasket sealant. The silence stretched, thick as spilled motor oil.
Outside, rain started drumming on the tin roof. Dex fumbled with a socket set, dropping a 10mm into the shadow beneath the lift. Liam sighed, already kneeling to fish it out. Water dripped from his hair onto the cement. Dex stared at the damp fabric clinging to Liam’s back. The air compressor hissed in the corner. Neither moved for ten whole seconds.
Liam handed over the socket, knuckles brushing Dex’s palm. "You’re jumpy today," he murmured. Dex caught the faint scent of diesel and spearmint gum beneath the garage smells. His throat tightened. Liam’s eyes — gray as storm clouds — flicked down to Dex’s grease-smudged lips, then away. A phone rang in the office, shrill and abrupt.
The shop door banged open. Freezing wind whipped through the bay. Mrs. Henderson stood there clutching her Pomeranian, shouting about brake noises. Liam stepped forward, blocking the draft. Dex watched rain glisten on Liam’s stubbled jawline as he explained pad wear in slow, patient tones. The moment stretched. Dex imagined pressing Liam against the tool cart, tasting rain on his skin. His wrench clattered again.
Alone near the parts washer, Dex scrubbed grime off valve covers. Behind him came the sharp tang of fresh-cut metal. Liam was grinding something, sparks cascading around his worn steel-toe boots. Dex’s reflection warped in the murky solvent. He imagined Liam’s hands gripping his hips, leaving oil prints on his shirt. The buffer screamed to life. Dex jumped.
Mrs. Henderson’s Pomeranian yapped rhythmically from the office. Liam’s deep chuckle mingled with her shrill complaints. Dex latched onto a seized bolt with his breaker bar, tendons straining. Each grunt blended with the rain's hiss on asphalt outside. When silence fell, he glanced over. Liam leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Rainwater darkened his collar. Their eyes met. Lex dropped the bar. It cracked concrete by his boot.
"Distracted?" Liam prowled closer, wiping grease streaks down his thighs. The scent of his spearmint gum cut through solvent fumes. Dex’s pulse hammered against his ribs. He gestured vaguely at the scattered sockets, jaw tight. Liam picked one up. Dex’s palm tingled where their fingers grazed. "Third time this morning," Liam murmured. He didn't step back. Dex counted the droplets on Liam’s eyelashes.
Outside, wind howled around the dented dumpsters. Liam’s knuckle brushed Dex’s wrist as he handed him the socket. Dex froze. Static crackled between them. The heater kicked on, rattling ductwork overhead. Liam’s gaze dropped to Dex’s grease-blackened lips. His own parted slightly. Dex swallowed copper — biting his tongue earlier? He could feel Liam’s body heat through the humid shop air. Shadows played over the corded muscle of Liam’s throat.
Dex snatched the socket. "Is the customer waiting?" His voice rasped. Liam’s boot nudged Dex’s oil-stained toe. A hesitant smile curved Liam’s mouth. Dex’s wrench slipped again, clanging against the lift post. Neither laughed this time. Liam shifted his weight. The fluorescent light buzzed louder. Dex watched a drop of sweat trail down Liam’s temple into his stubble. His fist tightened around cold steel. Tin roof thunder swallowed Liam’s next words. Dex leaned in half an inch. Closer.
Rain lashed the office windowpane. Mrs. Henderson’s Pomeranian yipped relentlessly. Liam’s shoulder brushed Dex’s as he turned toward the noise. Dex caught the scent of spearmint, diesel, and rain-soaked cotton. Liam’s damp sleeve pressed against his. Dex’s breath caught. Liam stilled. Outside, wind screamed against dumpsters. Dex felt the tremor in Liam’s arm — or was it his own? Rainwater traced the tendon in Liam’s neck. Dex’s knuckle, raw and split, grazed Liam’s wrist as he pulled back.
Mrs. Henderson yelled over the storm. Liam’s eyes snapped toward the office. They didn’t move. Dex stared at the grease smeared across Liam’s throat. Trapped air hissed inside Dex’s chest. Liam’s jaw clenched — so close Dex saw gold stubble catch the light. Liam inhaled, sharp. Dex tracked the flex of his Adam’s apple. Silence hung thick as oil sludge. Only Mrs. Henderson’s muffled complaints echoed: "... rattles like marbles!" Liam’s boot scraped concrete. Dex’s pulse hammered in his ears. He smelled rain on Liam’s collar, sweat-salt beneath the diesel. Liam shifted, his hipbone bumping Dex’s thigh.
Dex snatched a rag. Oil soaked through the threadbare cloth onto his palm. Liam’s pinky brushed Dex’s wrist. Dex froze, the rag forgotten. Liam’s gaze dropped — slow — to Dex’s mouth. The compressor kicked on with a shuddering gasp. Dex’s thumbprint stained Liam’s forearm — dark oil stark against sun-freckled skin. Liam exhaled — a tremor Dex felt against his own ribs. Dex’s tongue caught on copper. Bitten earlier. Liam leaned forward. Inches vanished. Dex smelled spearmint breath. Rain drummed panic-beats overhead. Tin roof groaned. Liam’s lashes lowered, wet-spiked. Dex’s grease-blackened knuckles curled toward Liam’s hip.
The office door slammed. The Pomeranian's claws skittered across concrete. Liam jerked back. Cold air rushed between them. Dex’s wrench clattered — a third drop. Mrs. Henderson waved pink brake pads. "This junk?" Dex stared at Liam’s retreating shoulders, taut beneath soaked denim, as Liam walked toward her. He swallowed nothing.
Rainwater dripped from Dex’s brow. He tasted salt. The compressor labored. Dex gripped the wrench until his knuckles whitened. Liam laughed for Mrs. Henderson — his deep rumble vibrating Dex’s spine. Dex watched Liam’s throat move. He imagined licking there. Oil pooled beneath his boot. Silence stretched. The pom barked. Liam glanced back — his eyes like loaded gunmetal. Dex didn’t breathe.
The moment stretched thin — snapped. Dex turned. He grabbed the valve cover and scrubbed harder. The rag tore. Metal screeched behind him. Grinder sparks flew. Dex’s skin prickled. Liam’s heat still lingered — a ghost-grip on his wrist. Outside, sirens wailed down wet asphalt.
Dex spat solvent. The rag shredded in his fist, the silence louder now. Liam’s boot heel scraped somewhere near the Mustang. Dex didn’t look. He couldn’t. The tin roof roared. Silence stretched — aching — between wrench-clatter and compressor-hiss. Dex flexed his aching fingers, imagining Liam’s calluses catching on his palm.
The silence held. Rain slowed to drizzle. Dex counted Liam’s footsteps fading toward parts storage. Alone. Air tasted stale — solvent and regret. Dex lifted the heavy bar. The bolt seized. Tendons strained. Silence crackled.
The door creaked. Dex froze. Liam’s shadow fell across him again. Closer.
"Forgot the torque specs." Liam’s voice was low and rough. He dropped the manual onto Dex’s tool cart. The pages fanned open — diagrams Dex couldn’t focus on. Rainwater soaked through the paper edges. Liam didn’t leave. Dex felt eyes on the back of his neck. He twisted the breaker bar. Metal groaned. Silence hammered louder than the rain. Dex smelled the wet denim clinging to Liam’s thighs. Closer.
Liam shifted. His boot nudged Dex’s. "Hand me that 14mm?" Dex passed the socket without turning. Fingers tangled. Warm. Rough knuckles pressed Dex’s palm — deliberate, lingering. Dex’s heart slammed sideways. Air hissed between his teeth. He finally looked up. Liam’s gaze pinned him — smoky grey, intense. Sweat glistened on Liam’s throat. Dex tracked a drop sliding into his collar. He imagined tasting salt and oil. The compressor shuddered. Silence screamed.
Outside, a truck engine roared to life — Mrs. Henderson leaving. The Pomeranian’s yaps faded. Rain softened. Stillness engulfed the bay. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Liam’s thumb brushed Dex’s wrist, a slow scrape of calloused skin. Dex shuddered. He dropped the breaker bar. It thudded against rubber matting. Liam’s eyes never wavered.
Dex smelled spearmint, sharp and sweet. Closer. Inches evaporated. Dex’s boot scraped forward, cement dust under the toe. Liam’s breath hitched — a jagged sound Dex felt deep in his gut. Static crackled the humid air. Dex’s gaze fell to Liam’s lips — chapped, parted. He leaned in. Halfway. Hesitation bled out. Oil-stained knuckles hovered near Liam’s hipbone.
Metal screamed. The grinder roared to life behind them, a rogue spark showering the floor near Dex’s ankle. Both men flinched backwards. Dex stumbled against the lift post. Liam caught his elbow, his fingers digging in hard. Heat seared through thin cotton. Dex stared at Liam’s grip. White-knuckled. Possessive. Sparks died. The grinder whined to silence.
Liam didn’t let go. Rain dripped from the gutter outside. Dex breathed diesel deep into his lungs. Liam’s thumb moved in a slow circle on Dex’s pulse point. Dex swallowed, unable to speak. Only the tin roof sighed.
The office phone shrilled. Jarring. Relentless. Liam’s hand fell away. Cold rushed into the space between them. Dex watched Liam’s jaw tighten. Gold stubble catching the light. He spun toward the sound without a word. Dex grabbed the rag again — torn threads biting his palm. Oil. Salt. Copper blood. He pressed the cloth hard against his split knuckle. Pain sharpened the air.
Behind him, Liam answered the phone. His low rumble vibrated in Dex’s spine. Dex stared at the grease smeared across the concrete where Liam’s boot had nudged his. Footstep ghosts. He didn’t lift his head. Didn’t breathe. The silence stretched — thin, taut, aching — filled only by Liam’s voice and the hammering inside Dex’s ribs.
Cement dust marked Liam’s path as he returned. Dex kept his eyes fixed on his bleeding knuckle. Oil and copper, sharp. Liam’s boots stopped inches away. Dex felt the heat radiating from him, smelled rain-damp denim and spearmint swallowed by diesel fumes. The air thickened. Dex lifted his gaze slowly. Liam stood there, hands clenched at his sides. The fluorescent light haloed rain-damp strands of ash-blond hair sticking to his temples. Silence screamed louder than the phone call.
Dex saw the tremor in Liam’s jaw, the raw want in those storm-cloud eyes. Liam stepped forward suddenly, crowding Dex against the cold steel of the lift post. Calloused hands, rough and grease-streaked, cupped Dex's jaw. Dex gasped, sharp. Liam’s thumb brushed Dex’s split knuckle gently. Then Liam kissed him.
It started soft – hesitant pressure, warm lips chapped by wind. Dex froze for a heartbeat. Then he surged forward, growling low into Liam’s mouth. His hands tangled in the damp fabric of Liam’s coveralls, hauling him closer. Liam’s tongue traced Dex’s lower lip, tentative, tasting oil and salt. Dex opened for him eagerly.
The kiss deepened instantly, turning urgent. Liam’s tongue slid hot and demanding against Dex’s. Dex sank into the kiss, chasing the taste of spearmint buried deep. Tongues tangled, rough and slick. Dex gripped Liam’s hips, fingers digging into solid muscle beneath the denim. He pulled Liam flush against him. Heat bloomed where their bodies pressed tight. Liam groaned — a deep, shuddering sound Dex felt vibrate through his own chest — as Dex pushed his tongue deeper, claiming Liam’s mouth hungrily.
Breath ragged, they pulled apart slightly, vapor mingling in the humid air between flushed faces. Lips wet, swollen. Dex traced Liam’s rain-slick throat with his thumb, smelling salt-sweat and diesel on his skin.
Liam’s eyes were dark now, pupils blown wide. His fingers tightened in Dex’s hair, pulling his head back. Dex arched against him. Liam kissed him again, harder, deeper, tongue plunging past yielding lips without hesitation. Dex melted into it, letting Liam explore his mouth deeply, thoroughly, drowning in the sharp mint and heated friction. He arched his neck as Liam’s lips moved hot and wet along his jawline, tongue tracing the frantic pulse point fluttering beneath Dex’s skin. Dex gasped Liam’s name, rough and needful, clinging to broad shoulders as sparks danced behind his closed eyelids – real sparks, from the forgotten grinder lying dormant nearby.
Dex’s hand slid desperately beneath Liam’s grease-stained shirt, feeling corded muscle and the hot dampness of skin against his palm.
Liam growled, low and fierce, against Dex’s ear, the vibration traveling straight down Dex’s spine. "Damn, Dex," Liam breathed, voice scraped raw. Rain hammered harder overhead, a frantic heartbeat against the tin roof.
Dex shuddered, pressing his aching cock against Liam’s thigh. The world shrank to the cramped space between tool carts, smelling sharply of sweat and solvent and desperate hunger.
They broke apart suddenly, harsh breaths mingling in the humid air. Dex leaned his forehead against Liam’s shoulder, trembling. Liam’s hand rested heavily on the small of Dex’s back, possessive and grounding. For a long moment, they simply stood there, the silence charged with the echo of frantic kisses and the drumming downpour outside.
Then, as if a switch flipped, Dex reached for a discarded torque wrench lying on the hydraulic lift. His fingers brushed Liam’s hipbone as he secured the bolt Liam hadn’t touched. Liam watched him for a beat, eyes tracking Dex’s movements with newfound intensity, before turning wordlessly to calibrate the spark plug gap gauge.
The rest of the afternoon unfolded beneath the buzzing fluorescents. Dex flushed crimson every time he caught Liam watching him tighten a lug nut or wipe grease from his forearm. He’d find Liam smiling faintly, a softness around his storm-grey eyes that Dex had never seen before.
Dex would grin back, quick flashes of teeth against oil-smudged skin, before ducking his head. Simple tasks – handing over a filter wrench, wiping spilled coolant – became laden with lingering touches and stolen glances. The shop felt unnaturally quiet, save for the familiar sounds of tools and the fading storm outside. Each stolen look felt like static sparks igniting Dex’s skin.
As the last rays of weak, grayish light filtered through the grimy office window, Dex slammed the hood of the repaired Mustang shut with finality. He turned, wiping his hands on a rag. Liam leaned against the tool chest near the bay door, legs stretched out, exuding a weary confidence. Raindrops glittered in his stubble. He met Dex’s gaze and held it.
A slow, genuine smile spread across Liam’s face, warmer than a summer engine block. "Hey," Liam called out, his deep voice cutting through the settling garage silence. "It's closing time. Feel like grabbing a beer? Maybe ... some food?" He didn’t look away, the invitation hanging heavy in the oil-scented air.
Dex felt his own grin spread wide, genuine and unguarded. "Yeah," he answered, tossing the rag aside, his pulse kicking pleasantly. "Yeah, Liam. Sounds perfect."
The routine of shutting down the shop took on an electric tension. Dex methodically coiled power cords, the rubber heavy and warm in his hands. He glanced over as Liam slid socket wrenches into their foam-lined drawers with deliberate slowness. Each metallic clink echoed in the sudden hush.
Liam’s gaze met his across the workbench, lingering, a silent promise Dex felt deep in his stomach. Dexter wiped down the grinder, meticulously buffing sparks off its casing, acutely aware of Liam bending to latch the cabinet doors beside him, the damp denim stretching taut over powerful thighs. Rain still tapped softly overhead, but the garage air felt thick, saturated with something new — something charged and hopeful.
They pulled on heavy jackets against the lingering damp, shoulders brushing as they moved toward the bay door. Dex hit the switch, the motor groaning as the rolling door rattled upwards. Cool, rain-washed air surged in, sharp and clean after the shop's oil-heavy musk. Outside, neon signs from the auto parts store across the street smeared watery reflections on the wet blacktop. The streetlights buzzed, haloes forming in the mist. Dex dug his hands deep into his pockets, knuckles throbbing faintly, while Liam secured the padlock behind them. The clack sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet street.
The walk was short, just three blocks down Rainier Avenue. Their boots splashed through shallow puddles reflecting the fractured city glow. Neither spoke much. The comfortable silence of years spent working elbow-to-elbow now held a new undercurrent. Dex stole glances at Liam's profile illuminated by passing headlights — the strong jawline softened slightly, the damp ash-blond hair sticking to his temples. Liam’s shoulder nudged his companionably, deliberately, sending warmth radiating through Dex despite the chill.
They crossed under the dripping awning of 'The Rusty Bolt', the familiar dive bar tucked between a laundromat and a vacant lot. The muffled thump of a jukebox leaked out onto the wet sidewalk. Liam pulled the heavy, scarred wooden door open, hinges groaning. Warm yellow light and the rich scent of frying onions and stale beer spilled out into the night.
Inside, the air was thick and warm, buzzing with low conversations and bluesy guitar riffs. They slid into their usual scarred booth near the back, vinyl seats cracked but welcomingly soft. The bartender, Sal, a burly man with faded tattoos snaking up his forearms, nodded recognition as he slid two dripping pints of amber ale onto the worn Formica table without being asked. "Rough day, boys?" he rumbled, wiping his hands on a towel.
"Yeah, Sal," Dex grinned, wrapping his chilled fingers around the cold glass. "You could say that." He caught Liam watching him, a slow smile playing at the corners of Liam’s mouth. Dex took a long pull of the beer, the hops bitter and refreshing on his tongue. Across the dimly lit table, Liam mirrored him, his storm-grey eyes never leaving Dex’s face. The unspoken hung between them, heavy and sweet as the scent of burgers on the grill.
Dex leaned back, the tension of the day dissolving into a warm anticipation. He traced a bead of condensation down his glass, finally meeting Liam’s gaze fully. "So," Dex began, his voice rough but calm. "You hungry?" Liam’s answering smile was slow, deliberate, lighting up the shadowy corner of the booth.
"Starved," Liam admitted, stretching his arms above his head. The motion pulled his worn blue shirt tight across his broad shoulders. Dex’s gaze followed the shifting muscles beneath the fabric, lingering on the faint grease stain still smudged near the collar.
Before Dex could speak, Liam leaned forward, elbows propped on the sticky tabletop. "Get the usual?" he murmured. Dex nodded, swallowing against the dry scratchiness in his throat. Liam lifted a hand to signal Sal – a simple gesture Dex had seen a thousand times, now weighted with significance. The knuckles were bruised like Dex’s own.
The clatter of plates broke the charged quiet. Sal slid two steaming cheeseburgers toward them, thick patties oozing melted cheddar onto toasted buns, alongside towering piles of golden onion rings that glistened under the dim bar lights. The scent of charred beef and fryer grease momentarily overwhelmed the stale beer smell. Dex inhaled deeply, his stomach growling. He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been. He reached for an onion ring, the crisp batter crackling under his fingers. Liam watched him take the bite, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
"So," Liam started, deliberately picking up his own burger. A slice of cheese clung to the wax paper liner. "That distributor cap on Henderson’s Ford." His voice was casual, but the intensity in his eyes wasn’t. He took a messy bite, juice dripping onto his chin. Dex watched, mesmerized, as Liam casually wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"Stupid rotor alignment," Dex grumbled around a mouthful of hot beef and sharp pickle. He gestured vaguely with his onion ring. "Shoulda been ten minutes." Liam nodded, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. They fell into the familiar rhythm of dissecting the day’s jobs – Mrs. Henderson’s persistent brake squeal morphed into old man Peterson’s carburetor woes. Yet beneath the technical talk flowed a current Dex could physically feel, like low-voltage humming through damp copper wires.
Halfway through his burger, Dex nudged Liam’s boot under the table. Liam paused mid-sentence, fork hovering over a forgotten onion ring. His gaze snapped up, smoky grey eyes locking onto Dex’s. Dex didn’t look away. He leaned forward slightly.
"Liam," Dex murmured, the word barely audible above the jukebox’s mournful guitar solo. Silence stretched, thick and sweet as the melted cheese pooling on Dex’s plate. A wet ring of condensation from Liam’s untouched beer slowly widened on the Formica between them, like a halo around the unspoken tension.
Liam’s throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze flickering briefly to Dex’s lips before returning, steady and questioning. Dex leaned in another fraction of an inch, the bar’s low light catching the faint sheen of grease still smeared near Liam’s eyebrow. The bassline from the jukebox seemed to sync with Dex’s heartbeat. Liam mirrored the movement, closing the gap above the greasy remnants of their meal. The scent of fried onions faded beneath the sharper notes of beer and Liam’s rain-dampened jacket leather.
Dex’s pulse hammered against his ribs. Liam’s fingers brushed the tabletop near Dex’s forgotten napkin. Inches dissolved. Dex’s breath hitched, caught on the simple, terrifying precipice of speaking the unsaid thing crackling between them like ozone after summer rain. Liam’s lips parted slightly, ready to breathe the next word into the charged air.
"Wanna come back to my place?" Liam asked. It wasn’t loud. Just gravel and smoke layered over the hopefulness Dex hadn’t dared imagine. Dex didn’t hesitate. Couldn’t.
The single syllable was rough, scraped clean of breath: "Yes." It landed like a dropped wrench on the linoleum floor between them – definite, startling, final. Liam’s eyes widened fractionally, then softened into something molten Dex felt deep in his core.
Sal ambled over, rag slung over his shoulder. "Dessert?" Dex shook his head, already pushing his plate aside. Liam tossed crumpled bills onto the table, far more than needed, ignoring Sal’s raised eyebrow.
"Keep it," Liam muttered, already standing, the vinyl seat groaning its release. Dex followed, his jacket suddenly too tight across his shoulders. The bar door groaned shut behind them, muffling the jukebox instantly.
The rain-slick pavement glistened under the flickering neon of 'Discount Tires' across the street. The warm ambiance of the bar vanished, replaced by the sharp bite of wet asphalt and exhaust fumes lingering from rush hour.
Liam’s walk was purposeful, his strides long and steady. Dex matched him, his boots splashing through shallow puddles reflecting fractured city lights. They turned right onto Cedar Street, quieter, darker. Rows of small, single-story houses sat tucked behind chain-link fences and overgrown junipers dripping rainwater onto cracked sidewalks. The closeness wasn’t physical yet – shoulders didn’t touch – but it hung thick in the humid air between them, an invisible tether shortening with every step, pulling Dex forward into an uncharted garage bay.
Liam stopped abruptly in front of a small blue craftsman bungalow, paint peeling near the gutter. A single porch light cast a yellow puddle on the damp brick steps. "Here," Liam mumbled, fumbling keys from his jacket pocket. The scrape of metal in the lock sounded unnaturally loud. Dex stood close behind, smelling rain on Liam’s collar and the faint, clinging scent onions from the bar beneath the diesel and leather.
The door swung inward onto deeper darkness. Liam stepped through, holding the door open. Dex hesitated for only a heartbeat, the damp street at his back forgotten. He crossed the threshold. The door shut with a soft thud. Silence swallowed them whole, deeper and more profound than the garage’s familiar rhythms, thick with the scent of old wood and anticipation and Liam standing impossibly close in the confined space of the dim entryway. Dex could hear his own heart pounding. Liam shifted beside him, his breathing shallow, uneven.
The fluorescent glow of the porch light bled weakly around the edge of the drawn blind, illuminating dust motes dancing in the sudden stillness. Dex felt Liam's knuckle graze the back of his hand in the dark, a deliberate, seeking touch. He turned his palm up. Liam's fingers slid against Dex’s, calloused pads catching on grease-stained skin, locking tight. A shuddering breath escaped Dex. Liam pulled him deeper into the shadowed silence.
"The grime's got us good," Liam murmured, his voice rough-silk against Dex’s ear. His free hand gestured vaguely toward the hallway. The scent of old wood and faint mildew mixed with the sharper tang of sweat and oil clinging to their clothes. "And the shower's big enough for two."
Liam led him down a narrow corridor, past framed photos Dex couldn’t see in the gloom. He pushed open the final door. Flicking the switch flooded a surprisingly spacious bathroom with harsh, revealing light. Gleaming white subway tiles climbed the walls to meet a high ceiling. Steam bloomed almost instantly as Liam twisted the knobs on a large, glass-walled shower stall tucked into the corner. The drumming splash echoed sharply off the tiles.
Facing each other, hesitant but certain, they peeled away layers stiff with grease and sweat. Denim pooled heavily on the cool tile floor, followed by damp cotton shirts. Dex’s knuckles throbbed, the split skin stark against his oil-stained hands. Liam’s torso was a landscape of hard-earned muscle beneath faded tan lines and scattered freckles, marked by the day’s grime. They stood naked, the humid air thick with anticipation and the clean scent of rising steam, the harsh light softening the harsh angles, revealing vulnerability neither had shown before. Water hissed louder, fogging the glass.
Steam billowed thickly as they stepped into the warm cascade together. Liam reached past Dex, snagging a bar of simple white soap. The scent of oatmeal and honey bloomed instantly, warm and grounding against the sterile tile smells. Water plastered Liam’s ash-blond hair to his forehead as he gently took Dex’s bruised right hand. His thumb traced the angry split knuckle, avoiding pressure, his touch impossibly tender against the raw skin. He worked the soap into a slow lather over Dex’s fingers, over calluses ingrained with grease, rinsing away the copper stain and grime with patient streams of warm water. Dex shuddered, leaning his forehead against Liam’s slick shoulder, breathing in honey and steam and skin.
Dex took the soap next, his movements deliberate. He traced the broad planes of Liam’s back, feeling every ridge of muscle beneath soap-slick skin, his thumbs pressing gentle circles into the tension knotted along Liam’s spine. Water sluiced down Liam’s chest as Dex turned him slowly, washing away streaks of grease from his throat, his collarbones, the dust clinging to golden stubble peppering Liam’s jaw. Dex’s gaze followed his own hands, reverent, tracing the faint scar crossing Liam’s ribs. Liam’s eyes remained closed, head tipped back into the spray, his breathing deep and steady. Only the soft sigh escaping his lips acknowledged Dex’s touch. Silence wrapped them tighter than the steam, filled only by the drumming water and the profound tenderness of cleansing away the long, charged day.
The heat began to wane, the water softening from searing warmth to lukewarm comfort before fading into a cool whisper against their skin. Liam pressed a lingering kiss to Dex’s temple before reaching past him to twist the chrome faucet handle. The sudden quiet roared. Liam slid the glass door open, steam billowing out into the cooler air of the bathroom. He stepped onto the mat, water dripping from his body, and grabbed two thick, oatmeal-colored bath towels from the heated rack. He turned, extending one toward Dex, the soft terry cloth brushing Dex’s wet forearm. "Here," Liam murmured, his voice husky with fatigue and something deeper.
Liam didn't wait. As Dex stepped out, shivering slightly in the cooler air, Liam unfolded his towel and began drying him with practiced efficiency softened by newfound intimacy. He swept the towel down Dex’s arms, rough fabric catching gently on Dex’s bruised knuckles before enveloping his hands. He rubbed briskly across Dex’s broad chest, his touch lingering over Dex’s heart, feeling its steady thrum beneath his palm. The towel skimmed Dex’s stomach, his hips, down the strong lines of his legs, soaking up rivulets tracing his thighs. Dex stood still, breath held, submitting to the intimate ritual, the scrape of the towel strangely grounding. When Liam crouched to dry Dex’s feet, his thumb pressed briefly into the arch, sending a jolt of warmth up Dex’s leg. Finished, Liam stood, his storm-grey eyes meeting Dex’s, a silent question hanging in the steamy air.
Dex took his own towel, unfolding it slowly, the fabric warm from Liam’s grip. He mirrored Liam’s actions, stepping close. He dried Liam’s shoulders first, the powerful muscles shifting beneath his touch, then moved down his strong arms, the damp ash-blond hair on his forearms darkening the terry cloth. He worked the towel across Liam’s chest, feeling the solid beat of Liam’s heart against his knuckles, then down the taut lines of his stomach. Dex knelt, drying Liam’s legs with the same thorough care Liam had shown him, the rough texture dragging softly over coarse hair and corded muscle. He lifted each foot, towel absorbing the moisture clinging between Liam’s toes. Rising, Dex met Liam’s gaze, seeing his own desire reflected back – raw and unguarded. The towels, now damp and heavy, were tossed unceremoniously into a woven laundry basket near the door.
A silent understanding passed between them. Liam’s hand, warm and dry now, found Dex’s. His fingers interlaced with Dex’s, calloused skin catching against Dex’s rougher knuckles. Without a word, Liam led him through the steam-hazed doorway, past dark, indistinct shapes in the hallway, toward a deeper shadow at the end. He pushed open a heavy wooden door. The bedroom beyond was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp, casting soft light on rumpled navy sheets. The bed itself dominated the space – a sturdy king-sized platform, solid oak frame, its expanse vast and inviting. Plenty of room. Liam guided Dex toward it, their clasped hands the only anchor in the quiet, charged space. Dex’s pulse hammered against Liam’s palm as they stood beside the deep mattress, the scent of clean cotton and Liam’s lingering soap filling the air. Liam turned, his free hand lifting to cradle Dex’s jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of Dex’s mouth. "This okay?" Liam whispered, the words warm against Dex’s skin. Dex’s answer was a wordless nod, pressing his lips fiercely against Liam’s waiting mouth.
The kiss ignited instantly, a deep, hungry joining that sent Dex stumbling backward onto the yielding mattress, pulling Liam down on top of him. Sheets rustled softly beneath them. Hands roamed urgently – Dex gripping Liam’s shoulders, fingers digging into dense muscle, while Liam’s palms slid feverishly down Dex’s flanks, tracing the ridges of his ribs, dipping low over his hipbones. Tongues tangled, hot and slick, tasting shared breath, spearmint toothpaste, and aching need.
Dex groaned into Liam’s mouth, arching his back, pressing the hard ridge of his arousal against Liam’s thigh. Liam rocked against him in response, grinding their cocks together through the friction of skin on skin, a delicious, aching pressure that drew a ragged gasp from Dex. He broke the kiss, panting, tilting his head back to expose his throat.
Liam obliged immediately, lips trailing down the straining tendon, teeth grazing lightly but never biting, before licking a hot, wet stripe back up to claim Dex’s mouth again. Their kisses deepened, slower this time, deeper explorations, tongues mapping hidden contours with deliberate, drugging slowness. Dex surrendered to the sensation, letting Liam taste him, his own hands sliding lower to cup Liam’s ass, kneading the firm muscle beneath his palms, pulling him impossibly closer.
They shifted, rolling gently until Dex straddled Liam’s powerful thighs. The new angle allowed Dex to lean down, capturing Liam’s mouth while his own hands drifted lower. Fingers traced the sensitive skin just below Liam’s navel, dipping into the coarse curls at the base of his erection. Liam hissed, hips lifting off the mattress, seeking friction. Dex smiled against his lips, wrapping his fingers slowly around Liam’s thick cock, his thumb brushing over the slick, swollen head.
Liam groaned, a deep, guttural sound vibrating against Dex’s chest. He mirrored the touch, his own large hand closing around Dex’s shaft below, their fingers overlapping, sliding together in a slick, twisting exploration. Stroking. Exploring every ridge, every pulse point. Their kisses grew fragmented, interspersed with sharp gasps and low moans trapped against each other’s skin.
Dex pulled back slightly, his gaze locked on Liam’s blown pupils, then trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down Liam’s chest, across his tight stomach, lower still. He tasted salt, soap, and pure Liam as he pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of Liam’s powerful thigh, his hand continuing its slow, maddening stroke. Liam whimpered, fingers tangling in Dex’s damp hair, urging him lower as Dex’s tongue traced a teasing path toward the very core of him, the air thick with promise and unsated hunger.
Dex took him deep then, swallowing Liam’s guttural cry. His mouth was hot, wet, relentless. He worked Liam with lips and tongue, savoring every shuddering tremor, every gasped syllable of his name torn from Liam’s throat. The taste — musky, sharp, uniquely Liam — flooded Dex’s senses. He hollowed his cheeks, pulling harder, fingers digging into Liam’s trembling hips as Liam arched wildly off the mattress, neck corded in ecstasy.
Liam’s ragged breaths became frantic pants. "Dex — god — wait —" He tried to tug Dex upward, hips bucking uncontrollably. Dex merely groaned around him, the vibration drawing another sharp cry. He didn’t relent, driving Liam higher until Liam’s thighs tensed like steel cables beneath Dex’s palms, his entire body coiled impossibly tight.
With a choked roar, Liam surged upward one final time, head slamming back against the pillow. Thick ropes of sperm pulsed hot onto Dex’s tongue, down his throat. Dex swallowed greedily, riding the waves of Liam’s release until Liam collapsed, trembling and spent, onto the sweat-damp sheets.
Dex finally lifted his head, breathing heavily. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and satisfied. Liam stared back, dazed and panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Before Dex could speak, Liam hauled him up roughly, sealing their mouths together in a fierce, desperate kiss tasting of salt and shared completion. Liam’s hands slid urgently down Dex’s flanks, fingers brushing the rigid length straining against Dex’s stomach. "My turn," Liam growled against his lips, voice wrecked and raw, already pushing Dex down onto his back. His calloused palm closed firmly around Dex’s aching cock.
Dex gasped, arching into the touch as Liam began to stroke him with rough, knowing pressure. Heat pooled instantly low in Dex’s belly. Liam’s gaze burned into him — stormy grey pupils blown wide — as his thumb swept over the slick head, smearing precum in deliberate circles. Dex’s knuckles whitened gripping the rumpled sheets. Liam’s other hand slid lower, fingers tracing Dex’s trembling thigh before pressing firmly inward, finding the sensitive skin behind his balls. Dex cried out sharply, his hips jerking off the mattress.
Liam lowered his head, his tongue following the path his fingers had mapped — a hot, wet trail from Dex’s straining shaft down his inner thigh, bypassing his throbbing cock entirely. Dex whimpered, frustration warring with anticipation. Liam’s breath ghosted over Dex’s balls before his mouth closed hotly around one, sucking gently. Dex’s head thrashed against the pillow. Liam’s hand continued its relentless rhythm on Dex’s shaft, twisting slightly on the upstroke, while his tongue traced lower, pressing insistently at Dex’s entrance. Dex froze, breath catching. Liam paused, pressing a soft kiss there before glancing up, a question blazing in his eyes. Dex nodded frantically, spreading his legs wider.
Liam’s spit-slicked finger breached him slowly, carefully, stretching the tight ring of muscle. Dex hissed, his knuckles aching where he gripped the sheets, but pushed down against the intrusion instinctively. The burn faded as Liam worked him open with patient circles, adding a second finger, curling deliberately.
Dex gasped as Liam’s fingertips brushed something deep inside that sent electric shocks up his spine. Liam watched Dex’s face intently, reading every flinch, every shudder, adjusting his rhythm. When Dex’s groan dissolved into a ragged moan, Liam withdrew his fingers. He gripped Dex’s hips, lifting him roughly onto his lap.
Dex straddled Liam’s thick thighs, their sweat-slick chests pressed together. Liam’s cock nudged urgently against Dex’s entrance. Dex sank down slowly, inch by agonizing inch, the stretch exquisite, filling him completely. Liam groaned into Dex’s shoulder as Dex began to move, rising and falling with desperate, grinding thrusts. Their hips snapped together, skin slapping wetly in the lamplit room. Dex threw his head back, lost in the deep, relentless friction. Liam gripped Dex’s ass, guiding him faster, harder, driving upward to meet every descent. Sweat dripped from Dex’s brow onto Liam’s heaving chest.
Dex’s climax built like a piston slamming home — inevitable, brutal. He came with Liam’s name ripped from his throat, hot stripes of sperm painting Liam’s stomach. Liam followed instantly, shuddering, burying himself deep as his release pulsed inside Dex. Dex collapsed forward onto Liam’s chest, trembling violently. Liam wrapped powerful arms around him, holding him impossibly close.
Their harsh breaths filled the silence, mingling with the drumming rain against the bedroom window. Dex traced the fading scar on Liam’s ribs with a trembling finger, feeling the frantic tattoo of Liam’s heart beneath his palm. Liam pressed a kiss into Dex’s sweat-damp hair. Neither spoke. The humid air smelled of sex, honeyed soap, and something perilously close to tenderness.
Then, Liam shifted beneath Dex’s weight. His hand slid down Dex’s spine, fingertips pressing possessively into the curve of Dex’s lower back. “Dex,” Liam murmured, his voice a low rasp Dex felt in his bones. “Look at me.” Dex lifted his head, meeting Liam’s storm-darkened gaze. A slow, deliberate smile touched Liam’s lips. “Wanna feel you again.” His hand slid lower, cupping Dex’s ass firmly. “Right here.” His calloused fingers brushed the sticky cleft still slick with his release. Dex shuddered. Liam’s grip tightened. “Turn,” he urged roughly. “Come on. Let me taste you.”
A shock of heat flooded Dex’s belly. He hesitated only a heartbeat before pushing himself up onto trembling arms. Liam guided him, palms rough on Dex’s hips, shifting him higher, positioning Dex kneeling above him, facing his feet. Dex braced his hands on the oak headboard, knuckles white. Liam’s breath ghosted hot against his inner thigh.
Then, the wet, unmistakable press of Liam’s tongue against Dex’s hole – intimate, probing. Dex groaned, dropping his head forward as Liam laved deeply, tongue pushing insistently inside, seeking the lingering traces of his own load. Liam sucked, hard, pulling the essence from Dex’s body. The sensation was filthy, electric – a claiming that vibrated through Dex’s entire frame.
Dex felt Liam swallow convulsively beneath him. A moment later, strong hands gripped his hips, pulling him down and back. Dex landed hard on Liam’s chest. Liam surged upward, capturing Dex’s mouth fiercely. His kiss was demanding, wet, tasting of soap, musk, and the sharp tang of salt. Dex opened for him instinctively.
Liam’s tongue plunged deep, pushing something thick and slick into Dex’s mouth – himself, reclaimed. Dex gasped, the taste flooding him – intimate, startlingly potent. He pulled Liam closer, their tongues tangling wildly, trading the essence back and forth in a slick dance. It was primal, desperate communion – a dizzying exchange of heat and salt and possession.
Dex felt Liam shudder beneath him, swallowing thickly. Dex followed suit, gulping down the final, shared proof of their joining, the taste lingering bittersweet on his tongue as Liam kissed him softly, breathlessly, sealing the covenant forged in sweat and silence.
Their foreheads rested together, damp curls mingling. Liam’s thumb traced the curve of Dex’s cheekbone, catching a stray bead of sweat. The drumming rain outside seemed softer now, a distant rhythm.
"Dex," Liam whispered, the word barely audible, yet it echoed like thunder in the quiet room. His storm-grey eyes held Dex’s gaze, stripped bare. "Been thinking ... forever, almost." He swallowed, his throat working. "Since you first walked into that grimy shop bay, scowling at a busted alternator. I knew it then." His voice grew stronger, roughened with emotion. "I loved you since. Just ... I couldn't say it." He traced Dex’s jawline, his touch impossibly tender. "I was scared shitless, Dex. Scared of wrecking everything."
Dex’s breath hitched. He pressed his palm flat against Liam’s pounding heart. "Me too," he rasped, the admission rough, ripped from somewhere deep. "Years, Liam. Watching you ... wanting." He shook his head slightly, a ghost of a laugh escaping. "Didn't know how to start. Felt like an idiot." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Liam’s sweat-salted lips. "Thank you," he breathed against them, the gratitude fierce and quiet. "For ... breaking the damn bolt loose."
Liam’s arms tightened around him, crushing Dex against his solid warmth. "Stay," Liam murmured, the word thick with sleep and something infinitely deeper. "Tonight. Stay right here." It wasn't a question, but a plea wrapped in certainty. His fingers tangled gently in Dex’s damp hair.
"Yeah," Dex whispered, the single syllable heavy with profound relief. He shifted slightly, settling his head against Liam’s shoulder, his face buried in the warm crook of Liam’s neck. Liam pulled the tangled sheets up over them both, cocooning them against the lingering chill. One strong arm draped possessively across Dex’s waist, anchoring him.
Dex listened to Liam’s heartbeat slowing beneath his ear, a steady, grounding rhythm replacing the frantic pounding of passion. Liam’s breathing deepened, evening out into a slow, peaceful cadence. Dex sighed, the last tension of the long, charged day dissolving into pure contentment. He inhaled the scent of Liam’s skin — salt, musk, and the faint, clean ghost of soap — a scent he knew he’d crave forever. His eyelids grew impossibly heavy.
The rain outside became a gentle lullaby, washing away the grease and grit of the shop, leaving only the warmth of tangled limbs and shared breaths. Dex surrendered, drifting slowly towards sleep wrapped in Liam’s embrace, the unspoken promise of tomorrow held securely between them.
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