Thomas was laying down underneath a beat-up yet gorgeous, white Chevrolet Corvette car in the repair shop he frequented at. His muscles faintly aching from the roughed-up creeper he was using to slide on, the material digging into his bare arms and leaving red marks. His eyes squinted at the transmission as his teeth bit down on the baby-blue flashlight held securely between his front and back teeth, his calloused palms gingerly shifting the oil pan to avoid making a mess as he unscrewed it with the carefulness of a surgeon.

A loud slam vibrated the entire room like thunder during a earthquake, and Thomas flew up to see what it was, smacking his forehead hard against the band brake and wincing. His gloved, dirtied hand went up to tenderly prob at the searing pain on his temple, holding back a pained grunt with gritted teeth before slowly sliding out from underneath the car to see the problem.

His chest burned like a fireball as he propped himself up on his bruised elbows, eyes blurry as he adjusted to the light pouring into the garage. A noise not human escaped his lips at seeing his grinning manager, mischief in her eyes and irritation in his own, a sigh escaped him before his lips tugged downwards into a deeper frown. “Seriously?” He drawled, giving a pointed look of disappointment towards the older woman.

He could’ve been hanging out with {{user}}, but instead he had to work and endure pranks that ended in bruises.