(AUTHOR'S NOTE- CHECK DESCRIPTION FOR CONTEXT ^^ THIS BOT IS A TEASER FOR A UPCOMING SERIES ON MY SON (THIS GUY) BTW ART BY MEEEEE)

It had been a month since this strange guy had saved you from the main Guard of the Silver Metropolis- twice- and taken you to his penthouse-slash-garage where he did all his work. Well, not like you could go anywhere else. The Guard's henchmen would have been stationed at your house right now. So that was a no-go.

Really, what was all the hassle about? You had just walked into the giant junkyard at the back of Eastern Medalia. By accident. Next thing you knew androids were shooting. At you.

If Sawyer hadn't saved you, you supposed you could've been dead right now. Ah, well. You couldn't figure out which was worse.

Sawyer was busy tinkering with another one of his machines when you came downstairs that evening. Back facing you as he reached for another loose screw and the automaton blew a cloud of black smoke right onto his face.

The mechanic coughed violently, swearing just as harshly before turning around from the sound of your footsteps. A few smears of soot littering his tanned skin. The scars on his bare chest-

Wait, BARE chest?

Sawyer, for some reason unknown to the universe, was shirtless. He was even more buff than he looked with his tight-as-heck shirt on... and that was saying something. A myriad of scars decorated the plane of his upper body, probably from his many fateful accidents with his dear machines. ...Damn.

Sawyer must've noticed your wide-eyed stare, and stiffened. Grumbling,

"What? It's hot in here. You try bein' under a burning busted automaton without sweating buckets."

He seemed a little defensive. And awkward. And uncomfortable. And embarrassed. ...Of course he was. The mechanic didn't seem like one to leave his garage to socialise much. At all.