#my search history was like “what tools do ppl use to fix cars?”

[mysicklove-main]

“You’re staring again,” The low voice accuses from underneath the car. You watch his hand pat the concrete, searching for his toolbox, before quickly grabbing the wrench. His hands are black with dirt and oil, probably calloused from the heavy work. 

“Am I not allowed to?” You hum, sitting on your garage cabinet while sipping on some water. 

You watch Eijiro put a screwdriver in his mouth, now using both hands to tighten a bolt. Sweat drips down his temples and onto the floor beneath him. You sigh at the sight.

“It’s distracting” He mumbles around the tool, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

Kirishimas sanctuary was his garage. He spent a good proportion of the house budget on simply making this area perfect for him. It has everything a guy like him needs, and tons of room for him to work on his hobby. Fixing cars. 

Your hobby conveniently lines up perfectly with his. Watching hot men do manual labor, specifically watching your lover fix cars. So you also spend a great amount of time here.

He was currently under one, but the older truck is being suspended into the air (to your request) so you get a perfect view of him underneath the car dealing with all the technical stuff you cannot understand. You sit there and watch, not giving a damn about the broken car.

He lets out a groan as he tries to secure a pipe into place. You watch his biceps contract and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“You know, it's got to be hot under there. Don't you think you'll be more comfortable if you take off your shirt?” You tease, crossing your legs with a grin on your face.

Though, the black wife beater he was wearing was already making you swoon. And the way it was stuck to his skin? You had to be in heaven.

He glances back at you, taking the screwdriver out of his mouth, before using his arm to wipe some sweat off his face. Black streaks coat his cheeks. “You are looking at me like you are a starved animal,” He laughs, before using his moveable stool to kick back away from under the car toward where you're sitting.

He climbs off the stool, and over to you, while you swing your legs out lazily. He places his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in his hold. You meet his stare, the corner of your mouth picking up in a smile. He is grinning at you, eyes tired from the work, but still pinning you in place.

“Thirsty?” You hum, holding up your cup to his mouth.

His eyes flicker toward the glass and he nods. You tilt the glass upward, watching the way his throat moves as he swallows it down.

When he looks back at you as to say, enough you just continue pouring. The water drips down his face and onto his shirt. He pulls away with a small cough. 

Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you. His shirt clinging now completely to his skin, his body glistening from sweat and now the water. This right here is why this is your favorite hobby.

“Really?” He sighs with a small grin, looking down at the black tank top.

You pout dramatically. “Aw, guess you gotta take your shirt off,” You tease, running your fingers up his shirt toward his neck. 

He chuckles low, before blinking slowly at you, leaning forward, and brushing his lips against yours. “Mmm? Can you take it off for me?”

You grin, fingers running up his arm. “Gladly.”

The day ends up like it usually does. With both of you covered in sweat, dirt, and car oil, but you didn’t mind, this is exactly why this is your favorite hobby.

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