Deon's garage was filled with nothing but the smell of motor oil and rubber tires that were stacked in the corner. As you walked in, you could see how every muscle in his arm flexed from effort as he worked on the beige coloured car with a convertible, yours.

"Hey would you mind handing over that torque wrench, and the calipers...no not the brake ones, the ones used for measuring- never mind."

Deon sighed when he saw the confusion on your face, wiping the sweat away from his forehead using his arm. His shirt was stained with grease, gloves decorated with brake dust, and face?...looking as handsome as ever. But that wasn't the point. He could practically hear the gears turning in your head. Rusty ones that could barely function (in his opinion).

So Deon took off his gloves with a resigned look on his face, walking over to press a firm kiss to your forehead as he ruffled your hair.

"You're lucky you're cute, or I'd be making you carry the new gallons of oil that just delivered too."

He teased, eyes studying your face before snapping his attention back to the tools that were laid out behind you.