39. Mac
THIRTY-NINE
MAC
Another day, another nature documentary about mating habits. Aken and Henry continue their weird-as-hell dance around one another. But something has shifted this last week. With Aken living with Henry, their relationship has evolved.
Henry is currently teaching Aken how to do an oil change. Both of them are in the grease pit under a Subaru one of Luna’s friends dropped off. I can only see the back of their heads and hands from here. But I don’t remember oil changes requiring so much whispering.
I mean, when Henry taught me, it was a lot louder. More screaming in my face that I have to make sure I don’t double up O-rings when installing a new filter.
So, I forgot to check one time and a customer ended up leaking oil until their engine seized. Once. But even now, he feels the need to hold that over my head. Making sure I don’t forget again.
But it’s all soft voices and endless patience when it comes to Aken, it seems. If I had known Henry was into guys, I would have flirted with him way more.
Not because I was attracted, but apparently some batted eyelashes completely change his grumpy demeanor.
Since Aken moved into his guest room, he’s been… pleasant.
Not short fused or short tempered. He doesn’t even bitch at me for leaving shit around the garage. Hasn’t complained about my music choices. Or hovered over my shoulder while I do basic maintenance.
Technically, we’ve been closed for an hour. I could just head up to the apartment and leave the two of them alone. But I’m bored, and Sage is late, so I decided to just get a head start on tomorrow. Paperwork is the worst.
I type away on the tablet. Finishing filling out all the work I’ve done…this week.
“Like that?” Aken asks quietly from the grease pit. Like that? I repeat in an obnoxious rendition of his voice, with a very mature, very manly eye roll.
“Exactly. You’re a natural,” Henry praises.
I turn and gawk at the back of their heads.
I never got praised. I got “good enough,” and “how hard is it?” I tune them out, or attempt to.
I refuse to get jealous of Henry and his new little friend.
My actual daddy issues are enough, thank you very much.
Instead, I return to focusing on making sure I got the math right on how much is owed for the work I did on the Element.
“Alright, that’s it. You’ve now done your first oil change,” Henry says, an edge of pride in his words. I continue to ignore them. However, I do hear them both move around, tools clanking and the mechanical gears of the lift working as the Subaru lowers back onto its wheels.
“Thanks, Henry,” Aken says demurely, coming into view. His tan cheeks blush red like they usually are around Henry. But he’s not as nervous as he once was. Doesn’t fidget or shift around anymore. The time with Henry does wonders for his self-esteem. Which, of course, earns the duo another eye roll.
“Go on and get cleaned up, and we can head out,” Henry says, and…
is he smiling? He’s fucking smiling, a weird, shy smile that makes no sense on his face.
This whole thing is starting to make me itchy.
Like I’m seeing something I shouldn’t. I should just leave them to it and go back upstairs.
Maybe get naked and wait impatiently for Sage to come fuck my brains out.
Jesus, I’m excited. All thoughts of Henry and Aken vanish, anticipation taking its place.
I haven’t been fucked properly, well, ever, if I’m honest. After another horrible attempt last year, I decided to solely top.
Apparently, I have trust issues. And apparently those trust issues often get in the way of me fully enjoying being under someone else.
My blood sings when I hear the sound of Sage’s Mustang.
But wait…it sounds off. After Henry fixed it up, it sounded beautiful.
Now it’s back to a death rattle. Black smoke puffs out the back tail pipe as he comes to a stop.
I wave him forward through the open bay doors, and the Mustang fights its way inside.
What the hell did he do to it? I press my hand to the hood, and it’s steaming hot.
I jerk my hand back. Sage cuts the engine and climbs out, slamming the door shut with far too much force.
His face is a mask of rage I’ve seen too many times before.
He’s about to lose his shit, and the Mustang was his last damn straw.
“I fucking quit. I quit. I’m done. Fuck all of this shit!” His voice rings out through the now empty garage. Henry and Aken disappeared somewhere into the back, probably behind Henry’s closed office door. It’s just me and Sage’s anger now.
He paces back and forth in front of the Mustang. Kicking at the bumper a few times as he passes.
“Bad day?” I inquire, setting down the tablet when his wrath changes directions and pins me in a glare.
He storms up to me. He looks disturbed, psychotic.
Eyes wild and blond hair a mess on his head.
Covered in dirt and grime from his day working.
But I am so into it. I’m so turned on by him, it’s not even funny.
Fantasies of him taking his anger out on my body make the whole garage rise a few degrees.
After we closed, I took off my shirt to try and cool off.
The fans did nothing to combat the heatwave.
But now, I’m burning up again. Being pinned under his gaze, everything heats up.
I don’t even get annoyed by the smell of cigarette smoke that he’s carrying around. For once, it only adds to the appeal.
A bad boy straight out of porn. Unclear if he will fight me or fuck me, but I’m ready to roll those dice. See where we end up. Fighting and fucking is an option we have yet to try.
I don’t back down when he’s right in front of me, seething harsh breaths out of his flaring nostrils. I don’t think he knows how this will go, either. His fists clench at his sides, but his eyes rake over me like a caress. A glorious mind fuck.
My confusion gets blown away in an instant. Lost in the air circling the garage when his mouth is crashing into mine. His teeth clank against mine, my air stolen. His tongue fucks into my mouth, his hands grabbing onto me so hard it would hurt if I wasn’t already lost.
“I need you,” he pants against my mouth. His hands work around my body to my pants, unbuttoning my jeans swiftly and yanking them down past my knees. He walks me back towards the Mustang, an awkward shuffle with my feet trapped in my pants. But I follow.
“Bend over the hood.” God, he is so hot when he is dominating me to do what I want.
When he takes control and commands me, I lose myself even more.
I do as he asks. Hands pressed flat against the hot hood, ass up in the air.
He walks around behind me, smacking my ass, the loud slap ringing out with my shocked cry.
“I fucking need you, Mac. I need to get lost inside you.” Goosebumps.
Sage doesn’t always say what he’s thinking.
But when he does, I’m a goner. And right now, his dirty talk is enough to bring me to the edge.
Pre-cum drips down onto the garage floor.
Whatever he needs, he can have. He can take it all if he needs to.
“You have me,” I tell him, and he rewards me with a swift spank to my ass.
“Lube?” he asks. Fuck. Fuck. My mind spirals, trying to come up with something, anything we can use down here—when salvation is presented to me like a gift.
“Coconut oil, over there.” I point towards the cabinets above a toolbox. Thank God to the hippie asshole who demanded we use all natural products when we primed his front bumper. Pretentious asshole just saved my ass. Literally.
“Don’t move.” He saunters over to where I directed him.
Opening the cabinet and reaching around, a few bottles and rags tumble out in his haste.
He finally finds it and returns. I watch him over my shoulder as he opens the tub and fingers out a hearty amount before setting it down next to my hand.
I stop it from sliding off the hood, then slam my hand back down when I feel his fingers over my hole.
He’s not slow, not gentle, just purposeful.
Working my hole open with rushed fingers.
It stings, but the burn is welcome. Only driving me further and further into the atmosphere. He works me up to three fingers, when I’ve had enough. I need more. I need fucking more.
“I’m ready. Fuck me!” I cry out, my voice pathetic and whiny as his finger brushes against my prostate. Fuckin’ hell. Sweet baby Jesus, I’m not gonna last long. He slowly withdraws his fingers. Leaning over me, his shirt tickles my bare back when he reaches for the coconut oil.
My head hangs forward, trying to catch my breath and prepare.
“Ready, baby?” he asks, but it’s not sweet, not kind. It’s cold and mocking. I hate it. All the feelings in me shift. This isn’t right. I don’t want this to be the first time I let another man fuck me. Not after so long.
Everything feels wrong now. Tainted. I’m no longer willing to give him anything. I stand to my full height. He has to step back so I don’t headbutt his face. I turn on him.
His eyes look black. From lust or anger, who can tell.
His brows dip together in confusion. I say nothing.
I pounce. I fucking maul his pants with heavy hands, forcing them open.
I drop to my knees to get off his boots.
Throwing them off to the side. Then I rise and yank down his pants, his boxers along for the ride.
A swift turn of events. I’m going to fuck him until he learns he can’t mock me. Until his anger vanishes in a cloud of euphoria. Cocky little bitch.
His shirt is next, until all his clothes are piled on the floor. I spin him, pushing his back down onto the hood of the Mustang. He gasps as the heat bites at his bare skin.
“The fuck!” He demands answers I’m not willing to give yet. He tries to sit up, tries to stand up, but I push him back with a hand against his chest. He tries again until I’m boxing him in against the hood. My body hovers over him, hands flat next to the side of his head.
“When you fuck me for the first time, it won’t be like this.
You need me? I’ll fuck the anger out of you.
Now shut up and lay the fuck down.” My voice is dark, gravelly, and growly.
He swallows a lump down his throat, looking up at me.
His confusion turns into something else.
Something just as dark. I reach over, taking a handful of melted coconut oil in my palm, quickly lubing up my cock with frantic movements.
Sage doesn’t try to stand again, just stares up at me in what can only be described as wonder. Or shock. Fuck if I know. His lips are parted, and his eyes are dilated. His cock hard as stone against his stomach. Laid out on his shitty car like a personal porno. Just for me.
“Scoot down. Ass hanging over the edge.” He complies.
I step between his spread thighs and line myself up.
Grabbing onto his legs, I press the swollen head of my dick against his hole.
I don’t work myself inside slowly. Don’t tease him like I usually do.
I slam forward in one swift thrust. It steals my breath.
His hole swallows me whole. He gasps and withers, moaning so loudly the garage sounds haunted.
“Fuck!” he screams. Loud and echoing off the walls. His head lands with a thunk against the metal when he throws it back. I just stare down at where we are joined. I stare at his body welcoming me in. I can’t look away. Transfixed, hypnotized with every inch, I pull out and slam back in.
Moans, grunts, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fill the garage. Overpowering the sound of the fans and the open garage doors. Maybe I have some sort of exhibition kink I’ve yet to explore. I keep finding myself in positions for others to catch me in the act.
Sage chants my name like I’m his god. Worshipping me as I take his body in punishing movements. I have to keep pulling him back to me when I thrust him higher onto the hood.
Sweat beads at my brow and lower back, heart striking against my chest to a chaotic rhythm. His hole clenches my cock so tight I have to fight to pull back out.
A gasp that doesn’t belong to Sage jerks my attention to the back of the garage. Two shadows lurk near the office, but Sage demands my attention again, the two voyeurs forgotten when he cries out.
I look back down in time to see his cock burst. Cum shoots out, up his abs, and onto his cheek. Untouched and unexpected. He grabs onto my hips, his blunt nails digging into my skin, leaving behind crescent moons I’ll cherish later. But right now, I’m narrowed in on the man beneath me.
I pump into him once, twice, three times, then I’m filling his hole with my release.
Slamming my pelvis flush against his ass.
“Fuckkk, Sage. Shit…shit…” I garble out more gibberish until my balls are drained and my body is spent.
I slump forward. Releasing his legs, they fall against the hood.
His body is limp and relaxed. I barely take notice of the anger that’s vanished from his face before I collapse on top of him.
His heart matches my own. His breath panting and gasping. He wraps his heavy arms around my back, holding me against him.
“Mac, Mac, Mac,” he chants my name some more. Murmurs from the shadows don’t even matter anymore. All that matters is him.