Work Text:
The mechanic's garage is quiet as Fadel walks in, the smell of oil and grease heavy in the air. He spots a man working under the hood of a car.
"Excuse me," Fadel calls out to get the other man's attention.
The older man, Jay, looks up, wiping his hands on a rag before shoving it into the pockets of his oil-stained overalls. He walks over, a friendly smile on his face. "Good morning. How can I help you?"
"Good morning," Fadel replies, returning the smile. "My car is overheating."
"Let's take a look," Jay says. "Lucky for you, it's a slow day." He leads Fadel to his jeep, popping the hood with a practiced hand. After a quick inspection, he straightens up. "You've got a coolant leak," he explains. "But don't worry, it's a quick fix. We can have it sorted out in no time."
Fadel looks as relieved as he feels about the news. "Thank you."
Jay turns towards Fadel and asks, "Are you new in town? Sorry to pry, but it's a small place, and we all know each other here."
"Yeah, I just moved here," Fadel admits, not particularly bothered by the inquiry. "I own the new burger place that opened up- Heart Burger."
Jay gives the younger man a once-over, taking in his neat appearance; good looks, smartly dressed even in casual clothes, polished black boots, and a generally respectable aura. Compared to kids these days, like his own son with their wild fashion choices, this guy is a breath of fresh air. Not to mention, he owns an eatery, which is impressive.
He seems perfect for my son, Jay is thinking.
"You moved here alone or with family?" Jay asks, hoping to gauge if the guy is married or has kids.
"It's just myself and my brother," Fadel relays.
Jay's smile broadens, feeling a glimmer of hope.
This young man might be single.
To be honest, he seems way more decent than the people his son usually dates.
"Welcome to our town then. Call me Khun Jay."
"Thanks, Khun Jay. I'm Fadel."
Jay nods his head slowly, planning his next move. When an idea clicks in his head, he squares his shoulders and speaks, "You know what, I have something else to take care of. I'll go get my son, Tie to help you with your car." With that, he heads off to find his son, thoughts swirling about the potential match he could be making.
*****
Jay stands in the doorway of his son’s bedroom, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. His son is lying sprawled out on his stomach, the duvet a tangled mess around him, with only his head peeking out.
"Tie," Jay calls out, hands on his waist.
No response. He tries again, louder this time, "Tie!"
Still nothing.
With a sigh, Jay walks over to the bed and gives his son a firm smack on the bum. Style groans but doesn't budge.
Jay chuckles softly and smacks him a few more times, gentler now. Style groans in protest, finally flipping over onto his back, blinking tired eyes at his dad. "What's the drama for so early in the morning?" he mumbles.
Jay just smiles, "Get up. The day won't wait for you. How can you still be asleep at 10am?"
Style rubs the sleep out of his eyes, trying to think then he frowns when he recalls the conversation he had with his dad the night before, "You told me you’d handle things at the garage today so that I could sleep in and rest today.” He reminds the older man
Jay suddenly screeches to a mental halt, eyes widening as the realization hits him- he has just contradicted himself. He blinks a few times and ultimately decides to just go with it. "I've changed my mind. There is somewhere I have to be, so get up and attend to the client waiting in the garage."
"Dad-"
"Now, Tie." With that, the man walks out of the bedroom, leaving his son so confused.
Style sits up in bed and ruffles his hair with a grumpy grouch on his face. He can't even get some peace on his supposed day off.
*****
Moments later, Style steps out of his bedroom, heading towards the garage. He finds his dad in the living room.
Jay looks up, his eyes widening as he takes in Style's appearance. "Wait! Where are you going looking like that?" he exclaims in horror. He gestures at Style's sea green cotton pajama pants, white tank top, flip flops, and the mess of hair pointing in all directions.
Style stares, appalled and puzzled at his dad. “I’m going to work.”
“Not dressed like that. It’s like you just got out of bed and stepped out to work.”
“So what? I brushed my teeth.”
“Well done, now go and fix the rest of yourself up.”
“Dad-”
“You’ll thank me later. Go.” Jay shoos his son away. "And hurry up. Don't keep my future son-in-law waiting." Jay would be damned if Style was going to ruin this for him- no, for them both.
"Huh?" Style calls out from down the corridor, stunned.
"Hurry up!" his dad repeats urgently.
Style purses his lips indignantly and drags his feet toward the bathroom.
"And don't drag your feet, dammit. It's not attractive," his dad yells after him. Style wonders what the hell is wrong with the man today.
*****
After a while, Style steps out wearing a pair of jeans, a crop top, and with his hair neatly combed. Jay isn't very impressed with the crop top selection. Fadel doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would appreciate such an outfit, but what can Jay do? It’s his son's choice of fashion, after all.
"So? What do you think?" Style asks his dad sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. "Do I look decent enough to walk to the garage where I'll just slip into a work suit anyway?" He rolls his eyes, walking away before his dad can respond.
"And try not to talk his ear off, for heaven's sake," his dad calls out after him.
Jay sighs in defeat. To be honest, his son has a few idiosyncrasies that could use some work, but he has to trust in his son on this one- to steal their new customer’s heart.
*****
“Good morning, Krub.” Someone says, the good morning being in English
Fadel turns around, and his gaze falls upon probably the best-looking guy he has ever seen. He gives the newcomer a quick once-over, taking in his appearance as the guy saunters slowly towards him.
There is something about the way he moves, effortlessly confident, that catches Fadel's attention. His sharp features, combined with an easygoing aura, makes it difficult for Fadel to look away.
Fadel has always prided himself on his stoic demeanor, a fortress of control and indifference built over years of hardship. He’s a fucking hitman.
But one look at this guy shatters that facade in an instant. Said guy is a vision of easy allure, his slender waist accentuated by the casual crop top and jeans he is wearing.
Fadel’s heart skips a beat, a sensation so foreign it almost feels like a betrayal of his own nature. He tries to maintain his usual cool, collected self, but his eyes betray him, subtly tracing the lines of the other guy’s figure.
“Hi.” Fadel replies.
The moment the customer speaks, his voice a rasping murmur, it’s like a jolt of electricity shoots through Style. Standing before him is a man who exudes raw, rugged charm. His tan skin glows under the harsh lights of the garage, adding a sort of earthy warmth to his imposing presence.
The man’s big, mildly hostile eyes seem to pierce through any facade, carrying a depth that hints at untold stories. The slight scowl etched on his face only adds to the allure, giving him a mysterious, almost dangerous aura. Everything about him screams roguish and tough, yet undeniably captivating.
Style if captivated for sure. He lives for danger and excitement.
As Style takes in the sight of this enigmatic figure, a thought flickers in his mind; he wants to spend time alone with this man, unraveling the mysteries behind this rugged exterior. The allure is instant and irresistible.
“I was told there is a customer waiting out here. Is that you?” Style asks the stranger
Fadel nods his head, momentarily unable to employ his mouth to speak.
For the first time in years, Fadel feels a crack in his armor. The discomfort of losing control is profound, a knot of unease in his chest.
Yet, there is something irresistibly magnetic about the other man, something that stirs a warmth Fadel has long buried. He finds himself wanting to know more about this intriguing young man, to understand the spark that has ignited within him.
And at this point, Fadel finally gets a grip and finds his voice, “Then you must be the other gentleman’s son, Tie?”
“Ti-” Style clamps his mouth shut, so embarrassed he could die. “Style. My name is Style. My dad calls me…Tie.” His voice fades at the end there, his cringing both visible and audible.
Fadel’s lips twitch in amusement, “Okay, Style.” He ensures to pronounce it perfectly like he owes it to the poor guy to appease him by correctly saying his name. It’s worth it too to see Style actually smile.
Fadel thinks Style’s smile has a naughty glint, a touch of flirtation that hints at mischief. It’s the kind of smile that suggests he is always up to something, and you can't help but be intrigued by the playful charm it gives.
“So far we both know my name but only one of us knows yours. We should square things, right?” Style says to his customer.
Fadel considers this for a moment, “Fadel.” He says
Style smiles, "What’s your car trouble, Fadel?"
They walk side by side towards where Fadel is parked.
When they get there, Style, a seasoned car enthusiast, pauses to admire the black Jeep wrangler before him. His hands gently trace the contours of the vehicle’s hood, feeling the smooth, cool metal beneath his fingertips. He takes a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship, his eyes reflecting a deep, almost reverent admiration.
Fadel stands nearby, his usual stoic expression softened by the scene unfolding before him. He watches as Style’s hands move with a delicate precision, almost as if he is caressing a cherished lover. Style’s eyes light up, a spark of passion igniting in them.
The sight is mesmerizing but also a bit creepy and uncomfortable to witness because Fadel can’t help likening it to an intimate moment. Style might as well be having sex with the car.
Then again that could just be a Fadel problem since he’s kind of had sex on the brain since he laid his eyes on Style. Style has serious sex appeal. And Fadel can’t resist glancing every now and again at Style’s ass and his naked midriff.
Style senses Fadel’s gaze on him, and so maybe he puts on a bit of a show while admiring the car, bending over and stretching his arms a little more than necessary to accentuate his sweet waistline. He loves the idea that he can grab the attention of a man like Fadel.
Style knows nothing about this man but it’s plainly obvious that he’s wildly and refreshingly different from the silly, playful, and fluffy types Style usually dates. The contrast between him and Fadel is striking, evident even in their clothing choices, one in a vibrant pink crop top, and the other in a sleek all-black ensemble.
Fadel has a vibe of depth and complexity that intrigues Style, something that sets him apart in a way that feels both exciting and new.
Style is so relieved that he didn’t come out here straight from rolling out of bed. He recalls his dad forcing him to freshen up, and next thing he remembers is his dad saying, ‘You’ll thank me later.’ Suddenly everything snaps into place in Style’s head.
His dad wanted him to look his best to meet Fadel.
So typical of his dad to try and set him up with someone.
Well for once Style is impressed with his dad’s pick for him.
Fadel is fine, and Style could spend hours talking about his smile alone.
Fadel clears his throat, “Should I leave you two alone for a moment?” Despite his reserved nature, he feels a small smile tug at the corners of his lips as he teases Style like that.
Style glances up and meets Fadel’s eyes. There is a silent understanding between them, a shared appreciation for the marvel that is the Jeep. Fadel’s smile widens ever so slightly, a rare and genuine expression of his own growing admiration.
“I’m glad you understand.” Style says, straightening back up. “He’s a beauty.”
In fact, Style thinks that the only thing more gorgeous than this car is the man who owns it. Given a chance to pick, Style would genuinely have quite the dilemma.
He suddenly has this idea to take a ride in this sweet car or to ride the man who owns it.
“Apparently the coolant is leaking.”
Style stands akimbo and announces, "I'll go get changed and take a look."
Boy does Fadel regret saying goodbye to Style’s current outfit.
*****
When Style emerges a few minutes later in a work suit, he looks oddly just as hot, though in a different way. The muscles in his tank top and the work overalls tied around his waist give him a rugged, effortless charm that’s equally captivating.
“Will you be a while working on my car?” Fadel asks, glancing at his wristwatch. “I left my kitchen unattended. Maybe I’ll come back later for my car.”
“Your kitchen?” Style tilts his head, staring curiously at Fadel.
Before Fadel can answer, Style’s dad, Jay, appears seemingly out of nowhere, coming up beside Style. “Fadel owns the new burger joint in town,” Jay explains, a proud smile on his face.
Style looks at his dad, then slides his gaze back to Fadel, surprise flickering across his features.
Jay continues, “Have you been there, Tie?”
Style shakes his head, and his father adds, “You should go check it out. Aren’t you and your friends always looking for a new place to hang out?”
“Are we?” Style frowns, trying to decipher his dad’s sudden enthusiasm. Jay gives him a subtle signal to play along, and Style’s frown deepens. What is his dad up to? Jay winks at him before turning to Fadel. “Fadel, do you serve beer at your restaurant?”
Fadel nods, offering a small, polite smile.
Jay pats Style on the shoulder. “Hear that, Tie? It’s the perfect place for you to hang out. You should visit soon. Bring Kant. Fadel is new in town and probably has no friends. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
When his dad winks a second time, Style finally catches on. He smiles, turning his attention back to Fadel. “Burger joint, huh? I’ll definitely come by to have a taste. I love meat.” The way Style says that last bit leaves no doubt about the double meaning behind his words.
But the moment the words leave his mouth, Jay smacks him on the neck. Style yelps, looking wildly at his dad in shock.
“There was a mosquito on your neck,” Jay explains casually, arms crossed over his chest. He gives Style a look- the behave-yourself look. Style knows it well.
Fadel’s lips twitch, watching the exchange with keen interest. He’s never seen such a dynamic father-son duo before.
“Don’t you have that thing to handle, Dad?” Style asks through gritted teeth, rubbing the spot on his neck where he was smacked.
“What thing?”
“The thing you should be handling right about now. Elsewhere. Away from here.”
Fadel almost chuckles out loud at that.
Jay glances at Fadel, then back at his son, lips slightly parted as he considers protesting. Style’s flirting was in poor taste, and Jay is shocked Fadel is still standing here, looking… amused?
Before Jay can say more, Style insists, “Alright, alright,” Jay finally relents, walking away.
Style sighs, shaking his head as he watches his dad disappear. When he turns back to Fadel, the weight of everything that just happened hits him anew. His cheeks warm with embarrassment.
“Yeah… that was all weird, right? Sorry,” Style says, briefly glancing at the ground before putting his hands on his waist.
“No problem. I understand the vision,” Fadel replies, his tone light but knowing.
Style fumbles, the heat on his cheeks spreading to his neck. “That obvious?”
“Your dad is not subtle at all.”
Style sighs. “He really wants to marry me off soon, so he tries to set me up with every decent-looking guy he sees. Apparently, now is the best time for me to settle down and have children before I grow old. I’m only 26 though for goodness’ sake. Even 10 years from now, I’ll still be healthy enough to carry a child.”
Fadel’s thoughts stutter to a halt, caught off guard by Style’s remark. “You’re a man!” he says, though it comes out more like a statement than a question. Style nods, looking genuinely confused.
“So how would you carry a child if you’re a man?” Fadel asks, his curiosity piqued.
“I don’t understand the question,” Style replies, his confusion deepening.
Fadel shakes his head, deciding to let it go. “Forget it.”
“I promise my dad and I are normal people,” Style assures him.
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I do,” Style insists, taking a step closer. “I need you to understand that I’m asking you out on a date because I’m genuinely attracted to you, not because my dad is desperate to marry me off or because my biological clock is ticking.”
Fadel is surprised, and it shows on his face. Yes, the tension between them is palpable, but he didn’t expect Style to be so forward. Still, he can’t think of a reason not to explore this attraction. It’s not just about Style’s good looks; there’s something more there, something intriguing.
“Are you busy this evening?” Style asks, his voice soft but hopeful.
A slow smile spreads across Fadel’s face as his answer becomes clear.
*****
Evening rolls around, and Fadel picks Style up for their date. Style’s outfit immediately catches Fadel’s attention. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans paired with a white, cropped long-sleeved button-down shirt. The shirt is buttoned all the way to the throat, the sleeves secured at the wrists. It’s unconventional, but Fadel can’t deny how fantastic Style looks in it.
Style saunters over, a shy smile on his face. “Hi,” he mutters.
“You look nice,” Fadel says, catching a whiff of Style’s cologne. He smells good too.
“You too,” Style replies, giving Fadel a once-over. “So you slipped out of the all-black outfit from earlier into a navy blue and black one. I love your wardrobe color range,” Style drawls sarcastically.
Fadel raises an eyebrow. “Your waist is naked.”
“You already said you liked my outfit. No take-backs,” Style teases.
Fadel shakes his head, smiling. “Are you ready to go?”
Style nods and hands Fadel his car keys, explaining that everything is fixed. He even took it on a test drive to make sure it’s running smoothly.
“Okay, what method can I use to pay?” Fadel asks.
Before Style can answer, his dad calls out his name. Style turns to see Jay approaching. The older man stops a few meters away and beckons Style over.
Style walks to him, and Jay peeks at Fadel before whispering, “Try not to talk his ear off, and avoid telling him that story about your texting-and-driving accident. People frown upon things like that. Don’t do anything reckless that would make me worry. Make sure you offer to pay for something on the date. Being cheap is not attractive.” Finally, Jay pulls out a roll of condoms and stuffs it into Style’s shirt pocket.
“Dad!” Style whines, turning around in alarm to see if Fadel is watching.
Fadel suddenly tears his gaze away, absently scratching the nape of his neck, making it obvious he’s been watching the entire exchange.
Style wants to disappear. He turns back to his dad, grumbling in hushed tones, “It’s the first date, Dad. Seriously.”
“I know how you kids are these days. Better safe than sorry,” Jay replies, unbothered.
“This is so embarrassing. I swear you’re the reason I’m single,” Style mutters.
Jay smiles, pats his son on the arm, and wishes him a good evening before walking away.
Style stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath to gather his courage. He shakes it off, reaches into his pocket, and transfers the condoms to his jeans pocket. When he finally goes back to Fadel, his face is a mix of mortification and amusement.
“Did you see the…” Style starts, but he can’t finish the sentence.
“The condoms? Yeah,” Fadel says, his voice calm but teasing.
Style groans, covering his face with his hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Fadel chuckles softly. “A whole roll of condoms? I’d be embarrassed too.”
They look at each other, and after a moment, both laugh. The tension eases, and Style feels a little lighter.
“Your dad cares about you,” Fadel says, his voice kind. “That’s a good thing.” He holds out his hand, and Style takes it without hesitation.
“Ready to go?” Fadel asks, his tone warm.
Style nods, stepping closer. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”
-END-