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albionscastle · 2 years

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In The Workshop

I ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING!!!! FOUR YEARS AFTER A BRAIN INJURY AND I GOT TO WRITE SOMETHING. I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD FIND INSPIRATION HERE, BUT I’M GOING TO RUN WITH IT. TBH THIS MAN AND HIS TWO IDIOTS HAVE KEPT ME SANE, MADE ME LAUGH FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A LONG TIME AND WELL....JUST LOOK AT HIM. AS ALWAYS ANY RPF I WRITE IS SET IN AN AU WHERE THEY HAVE NEVER MET THEIR REAL LIFE SIGNIFICANT OTHER.

You were grateful that you had brought your headphones, you thought as Elvis crooned in your ears. Looking across the giant garage you could see the three biggest idiots in the world gathered around an old Jag, it’s hood up while they clearly argued. Business as usual then, you shrugged, before getting back to your paperwork. This was supposed to be a work weekend, but as expected you were the only one getting anything achieved. The chance of them doing anything productive had gone out the window the moment Hammond’s new acquisition had been revealed. The tools had come out, followed by the beer and after about five minutes they had all forgotten you were even in the workshop with them.

Watching them in action when there were no cameras around was incredibly fun, even if you didn’t have sound. Clarkson was clearly trying to take the upper hand as he spun on a stool, motioning to May and Hammond who were actually doing the work. No doubt he was extolling the virtues of Alfa Romeos over Jags while May, who had ruined his shirt with engine oil was telling him off, complete with peeved-off look and sweeping hand gestures. Sneaking another glance over, you saw Hammond ignoring them and looking at the engine with an expression that could only have been called love. Your stomach twitched a bit as you watched him slide his hands over the body of the car in a way that could only be described as pornographic, at least to you.

Turning back to your work again you sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to put the image of those hands sliding over your skin out of your mind.

“He’s your boss, he employs you.” you muttered over and over under your breath.

Catching feelings for one of the men that paid your wages was about the stupidest thing you could ever do and you were determined to nip it in the bud before you made a total ass of yourself. The fact that you had been telling yourself for a year, didn’t escape you. The mistake had been meeting Hammond in the first place, one solid handshake and a smile and you had been reduced to jelly inside and out. You had never believed in love at first sight but damnit if lust at first sight hadn’t up and slammed you in the gut and taken up residence.

So far you thought you had done an excellent job of hiding it, actually loving your job and desperately wanting to keep it had helped with that. Being so busy and happy in your work meant that those pesky feelings rarely made themselves noticeable and you were able to function like a normal human being. Except on days like today. This was the first time you had been to Hammond’s ‘castle’, usually refusing to be the only female during a boy’s weekend. This time, however, you had been given no choice in the matter. James himself had shown up at your flat after work on Friday and told you to pack your bag. Every excuse had been ignored and the overbearing bastard had even threatened to haul you out to the car if you didn’t come willingly.

Seeing Hammond in his home environment was somehow much worse than seeing him in the office. Here the atmosphere was more relaxed, no-one had to watch what they said and did and you were seeing more of the real person behind the persona he presented for television. It was killing you. It was impossible to be unaffected when he proudly showed you around his space, almost shyly seeking your opinion of a room or an interesting piece of art. You had to literally swallow your heart back into your chest when you watched him playing exuberantly with his dogs. You had never seen him so happy and relaxed. Last night you had laid awake groaning into your pillow as you wondered when attraction had turned into something more, something deeper that you would never be able to speak out loud. Now, with this new knowledge tightening around your heart, you couldn’t seem to keep yourself together as much as you would have liked and you kept sneaking looks over to where they were working, letting your eyes settle on him when you were sure that no-one was watching. He was so short compared to the other two that it was hard to remember he still had a good five inches on you, not that you noticed. What you saw was a messy lock of brown hair falling over his forehead as he leaned over the engine, his face furrowed in concentration. You followed the smooth skin of his arms, muscles taut as he fiddled, the black t-shirt pulled tight across his chest. A hitch in your breath as he leaned over further, the shirt pulling up and revealing just enough of his stomach to be a tease, and those jeans should have been illegal, you thought as they stretched tight across his thighs and other places that you couldn’t even think about.

A change of artist on your playlist brought you crashing back to reality, with a clashing of drums and guitar making you jump, and you realized you had been staring, your pen between your teeth, completely oblivious to everything around you. Your cheeks flushed hot and red as you tried to gather your senses, unaware that you had in fact been caught. Shaking your head to try and clear your thoughts you didn’t notice the huddle around the car, or the pats on shoulders as Clarkson and May excused themselves with knowing smiles.

May stopped by the table where you sat and got your attention by tugging out your headphones.

“We’re going into town for supplies, can you make sure the Hamster doesn’t kill himself before we get back?”

Still flustered, you nodded your head in response, noticing a weird twinkle in his eye. You narrowed yours questioningly.

“I’m just saying, if he looks like he’s getting into trouble, find a way to distract him.”

He winked with a giggle before beating a hasty retreat, leaving you alone with the oblivious object of your increasingly inappropriate thoughts.

“Y/N? You wouldn’t mind bringing me a beer would you? Those two idiots just nicked off and left me empty.”

“Oh, allow me to remedy this travesty immediately sir. Should I have them arrested for cruelty to hamsters?” you joked as you usually did, walking over to his well-stocked fridge and grabbing two bottles.

“Oh ha ha ha, you’re so funny.” he groused with a grin.

“No, what I am is a fully capable human being with two legs who is able to get to the fridge. What happened to you? You lose your legs in battle?”

You were overcompensating with humor, you knew it but you were rattled today and not feeling sure of yourself. Resorting to humor was your go to defense, which worked well with these three as you were more than a match for their ribbing.

“I did break my leg, remember, smart arse.”

That was two years ago, how long are you going to milk it?” you laughed, handing him his beer, then perching on the stool Clarkson had vacated to take a long swig of your own.

“Well that depends, if you’re willing to massage it I can draw it out for quite some time.”

“I’m not that kind of assistant you retorted, attempting to disguise the fact that you had almost spat out your beer at his comment.

He always had been a flirt.

“Pity.” he shrugged, stretching his leg out as if it was actually hurting him and drawing your eye to the far too good fit of his jeans.

“Does it really still bother you that much?” you asked. You hated to think of him in pain and you knew the injury had been a bad one.

“Sometimes.” he took a swig of his beer before setting it on the engine block. “Sometimes I just use it as an excuse to have a pretty woman bring me a beer.”

“Shall I go find you one then?” you joked, cheeks turning pink.

He didn’t answer, just looked at you in the way he sometimes did, like you were a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

“So anyway, what’s so special about this wreck?” you waved your arm at the car to change the awkward banter.

“Wreck?! Did you just call her a wreck?” Hammond put his hand on either side of the bonnet as if it had ears, looking at you in indignant horror. “It’s ok baby, she didn’t mean it, Don’t listen to the mean lady.”

He glared at you.

“Say sorry.”

You hopped off the stool, throwing your arms up in surrender as you approached the car. Squatting down, you pretended it was talking to you, while Hammond scowled down at you.

“Sorry, pretty car.” You ran your hand along the fender, secretly enjoying the lines of the vehicle. “She says the tiny, shouty man needs to be nicer to his assistant or she’ll cut off his beer supply.”

“She did not.” he laughed.

“I assure you she did.” you sniffed with all the fake dignity you could muster, unable to keep the grin off your face. “Seriously though, I know shit about cars, but she’s a beauty. I always liked the older ones.”

“Really? Why’s that?” He was watching you over the neck of his bottle as you ran your fingers over the car.

“Yeah, they just seem to have more character than modern cars. Newer cars are all just space-age shows with no personality, but something like this…” you trailed off, realizing you were babbling and probably making no sense at all. “Sorry.”

You took another long drink from your beer while looking everywhere but at him.

“Don’t be sorry, I feel the same way. Though I don’t hate a nice new supercar, I prefer a classic.”

“Cause you can’t crash one of these at 150 mph?” you snarked, then immediately realized how inappropriate it was to joke about it.

Hammond just chuckled, putting his beer down again.

“Just for that I’m going to make you pay. Come over here.” he growled, pointing at the spot right in front of him.

Gulping and feeling guilty you did as he ordered, looking properly contrite.

“Jeeze, that face, I’m just going to have you help me with the engine, not spank you, unless…..”

You really hoped he didn’t notice the shiver that went down your spine at his words.

“Come on, I just need you to lean in there and hold this still for me.”

He pointed at an area way down inside the engine so you bent over the side of the car, reaching in and grabbing the first thing you felt.

“This?” you questioned over your shoulder.

“Let me check.” he chuckled from behind you.

All the breath left in your body left in a woosh as he leaned over you to reach into the engine, half his body flush with yours and pressing you into the hard metal of the fender. His fingers skimmed gently down your arm to your hand, feeling the part you had a hold of.

“Not quite. Here.” his breath was hot in your ear as he guided your fingers into the correct position. “Now hold.”

He pushed away from you to grab a tool from the table, making a loud clatter.

“This isn’t very comfortable, you know.” you managed, cheeks red at the thought of how you must look.

“Mmmmhmmm.” he murmured, walking back to you with what looked like a wrench. “I’m going to adjust you a sec, ok?”

His hands were on your hips before you could even reply, gently moving your lower body, brushing against the bare skin where your t-shirt had ridden up. This time there was no hiding the shiver, or the goosebumps that broke out on your skin.

“Sorry love, but otherwise I’d literally have to lay on top of you to get to the part and we don’t want that do we?”

“Speak for yourself.” you muttered under your breath as he stretched out beside you, hands running down your arms again.

“What was that?” he was fiddling with the part you were holding in place, so close his cheek kept brushing against yours.

To quote Jane Austen, you were half agony half hope.

“Nothing.” was all you could manage for fear of your thoughts making their way to your tongue, which was so close that you could have licked the smooth skin of his neck.

Ok mostly agony, because though your thoughts were running wild, they were just that. Hammond was completely oblivious and would probably run for the hills if he knew what you were thinking.

“You ok?”

Sure, I’m just imagining this exact scenario except instead of you fucking about with a car part, you’re nailing me into the side of the car.

“I’m good, my arms are a little sore.” you managed instead.

“Almost there darlin, just a minute more.” he grunted, fingers brushing yours as he fiddled with the part. “Just about got it. That’s it! Come on now baby.” He was giving you ample inspiration for the fantasy you would undoubtedly have about him when you hit your pillow tonight.

Miserable bastard.

“Ok that should do it, can you just hold it for a second longer for me?”

You nodded and in response he slid back, leaning over your back again to take a look down into the engine. You felt his crotch dig into your hip as he rested his weight on you and you could have sworn… No, you told yourself as he pulled away to stand up, it was his belt or something.

“Right love, let’s get you up then.” he was chuckling as you pulled your almost numb arms from where they had been stretched and tried, unsuccessfully, to push yourself up with muscles that had turned to jelly. “Here, I’ve got you.”

His hands came under your arms as he pulled your body into an upright position, a fine idea except that your knees had also turned to jelly and you collapsed back against him as he pulled you up. His arm was now wrapped around your waist as he helped you stay upright and you could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath, the taut muscle of his stomach against your back the…

Wait, what the hell? You went shock still, your breath hitching as his arm tightened around your waist. Hi hot breath was on your neck and you could have sworn he was panting, just as you were. Your hands came to rest on his forearm, to hold him there, his skin just as soft and smooth as you had imagined. Without warning you felt a sharp nip of teeth on your earlobe, enough to make you gasp, before the flat of this tongue reached out to slide over the same spot.

“Christ Jesus!” you hissed.

“Not quite, dear.” he murmured against your neck. “But I appreciate the compliment.”

“What’s happening?” you managed to whisper, fingers gripping his arm tightly as his teeth scraped against your skin.

He sighed suddenly, leaning back and moving his hands to your hips to slowly spin you around to face him.

“Look at me.” he ordered gently, using a finger to tilt your face up to his. When you were finally brave enough to meet his eyes he smiled softly. “I’m going to kiss you, but if you don’t want me to, say the word now and I’ll back off.”

You could only gape at him. No way were you going to say a single word in case he didn’t go through with it. His smile changed as he stepped forward to close the gap between you, his hands moving to either side of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. Wolfish now, you could see his teeth behind his lips and you swallowed hard, unable to look away from his mouth, wondering when someone was going to pinch you awake from this dream.

“Ok then.” was all he said before he pounced.

Your fingers bunched at the waistband of his jeans was the only thing holding you up as his lips brushed feather light across yours, once, then harder, his mouth soft and warm and the prickly hair of his goatee scratching your face gently. His hands slid down your neck and shoulders, palms running down your back until his arms were around your waist, pulling your body hard against his, your mouth opening to his tongue as he groaned into you. You moved your fingers to tangle in his hair, gripping and pulling as you slid your tongue against his, a thrill shooting down your spin into a warm twisting pulse between your thighs. You felt your knees give out as the tip of his tongue scraped along the roof of your mouth, the moan that escaped you primal and wild. Hammond’s hands slid down in response, gripping and lifting until you were up in his arms with your legs wrapped around his waist. He walked you the three steps to the car, setting you down on the fender without breaking contact with your lips for even a moment. In all your life you had never been kissed like this, and you never wanted him to stop.

He hissed into your mouth when you dragged your nails down his neck, down his chest and stomach until you could grip his hips, pulling him as close as you could get him, the feel of his hard length between your legs almost more than you could handle. A smile against your mouth as he began to grind against you. You just needed him, wanted him so much you were willing to let him have you right there, right now. Arching your back you silently encouraged him to put his hands on you, sighing happily as his lips and tongue blazed a path down your neck, one hand cupping your breast through your shirt, scraping his thumbnail back and forth across the nipple, making you squirm. You bit his neck softly, feeling him shiver under your fingers that had found their way under his shirt to stroke his back.

“Oh god Richard.” you sighed, resting your forehead on his shoulder, completely overwhelmed.

“You’ve never called me that before,” he whispered, tugging your earlobe with his teeth. “I like it.”

The sound of a car on the gravel drive was like a bucket of icy water being poured over the two of you and you sprang apart like two teenagers caught necking in the park.

“Fuck, they’re back. Perfect bloody timing as usual.” he growled, helping you down from the car and over to the stool where you quickly grabbed your now warm beer to make it look like you had been there all along. Richard stood beside you a moment, gazing at you before he leaned over to kiss you sweetly.

“Just so you know, I’m absolutely mad about you, have been for ages.” he whispered before jumping away to assume a position leaning into the car engine, trying to hide the obvious bulge in the front of his jeans. He looked over his shoulder at you, winking as the door to the workshop was flung open and the two idiots walked in with shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Right, we’re back, you’ve had more than enough time to take care of this Hammond, and your shops are boring.” Clarkson sauntered over and looked you up and down as you sipped your beer and you tried not to blush under the scrutiny.

“Hammond you idiot, did you ask her out or did you spend the whole time stuck in that bloody engine?” May pounded your back as you spat out your beer, coughing and spluttering.

You noticed Hammond’s cheeky smile and raised eyebrow before he stood up and valiantly tried to stand up to the two bigger men.

“Well thanks you giant cocks, you’ve just managed to make this an uncomfortable situation.” he scolded, pushing them aside and gently brushing his lips across your forehead. “Forgive them, they don’t have a brain cell to even share.”

You blushed, standing when he took your hand and laced his fingers through yours.

“Christ Hammond, I told you to stop mooning about like a lovesick calf and ask for a date, not maul her in the garage.” Clarkson boomed, slapping May in the chest and pointing at you. May immediately started snickering.

“I’d say you took care of business right enough, Hamster.”

Richard’s eyes suddenly went wide and he started backing out of the garage, “I’m going to go and get dinner started, you should come with me Y/N.”

With that he made a run for the door and you noticed the black marks on the back of his jeans that looked suspiciously like handprints.

“Fuck.” you muttered, looking down at yourself and noting the engine oil stains on your white shirt, including the glaring Hammond sized handprint right there on your chest.

You stormed to the door, flinging it open as you realized there were probably handprints all over your ass as well if the laughter from the other two was anything to go by.

“HAMMOND!” you screamed into the dusk while Clarkson and May fell to the floor in gulping laughter.

He was going to pay for that.

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