Benvi Takes It From Peter Hooke

Benvi leaned against the garage doorframe, watching Peter Hooke. Peter was focused, his hands deftly working under the hood of Benvi’s aging sedan. The white mechanic’s jumpsuit was smudged with grease, sleeves rolled up to reveal Peter’s forearms, corded with muscle as he tightened a bolt. There was a quiet confidence in the way Peter worked, a competence that Benvi found unexpectedly distracting.

Peter glanced up, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist. “Almost done,” Peter said, his voice a low rumble. Benvi’s mouth went a little dry. He was supposed to be the one offering Peter a beer in thanks, but all he could think about was the way Peter’s hands, now slick with oil, would feel on his skin instead of the engine. The simple kindness from Peter Hooke was turning into something far more complicated, and Benvi was completely captivated by Peter.