A motorcycle logo on the sign. An identical motorcycle logo on Jack's sports shirt. For God's sake, the auto fix shop was called Jack's. Why had he never made the connection? He only cycled past this shop every single weekday. Oh, right, he was always pedalling his ass off, rushing past, because he was chronically late for school. If only Sem had known who was working inside that building, he would've slowed down a little.
Jack hadn't noticed him yet. His back was turned to Sem, and he was completely engrossed in his work. Even from behind, and even when wearing an unflattering grubby overall, Jack looked amazing. Sem glanced down at himself. And he looked incredibly dumb for not bringing an umbrella or whatever. Like a drowned rat. A filthy drowned rat. There was black grease on his fingers, and he'd somehow gotten a big black streak on his shirt as well.
It was unbelievable. Whenever he ran into Jack, Sem somehow managed to always be drenched in something icky. If it wasn't sweat and mud, it was rain and grease. Awesome first and second impression that made. But it wasn't too late to get out. Jack wasn't paying attention to anything but the car, and Sem started shuffling backwards towards the exit. Abort mission. I repeat, abort mission.
He bumped into something hard with his foot, and it scraped across the floor loudly. Shit. Sem looked over his shoulder, and saw the exact crates he'd dodged on the way in behind him. Stupid stupid, he'd known they were there.
Jack's head snapped up at the noise, and Sem's heart stuttered in his chest. Before he knew it, Jack had closed the distance between them and was standing right in front of him. He was clean-shaven today, but that looked equally good on him as stubble. From up close, his tan skin was still flawless.
"Hey." Sem felt his face heat up, his mind t-boned hard by the sudden proximity, and those brown eyes boring into his.
"Hello. Can I help you with something?"Jack's voice was pleasant: calm, deep, and with a faint lilt. His eyes briefly traveled down Sem's drenched form, sending a shiver down Sem's spine. He subtly straightened his back. A wet-clinging-to-his-skin shirt was not necessarily a bad thing. He was more toned than most guys his age. Thank you, kickboxing.
"I hope you can help. I know this is an auto repair shop, but my bike's broken. The chain just snapped in half on the road outside, and I figured you guys might have tools for it." Sem vaguely gestured to the entrance where he'd left his bike, proud at how casual he sounded but definitely not felt. He swore his ass was sweating by now.
"Aha." Jack nodded. "Okay, I'll see what I can do."
Sem blinked in surprise. No further explanation or information required? Jack was, evidently, very to the point. "Uh, great, thanks."
As swiftly as Jack had approached Sem, he now strode to the entrance, retrieved the bike, and then flipped it upside down. He crouched down and observed the chain for a second, before moving to a cabinet and pulling out a tool Sem didn't recognise.
Jack was a whirlwind, and Sem just stood there, tongue-tied, and with no idea how to handle the situation.
No way this was happening. In a timespan of mere seconds, Jack had disproven any turn-off Sem had ever come up with. He wasn't ugly up close, no weird-ass chipmunk voice, not a trace of foul body odour so far. Not to mention, he looked incredibly sexy all serious and focused, expertly fitting the tool, whatever it was, on the chain. Jack was clearly hell-bent on not giving Sem any chance to get over his crush. That bastard.
Sem stared at him anyway. He drank in the sight of his well-defined jawline, straight nose, his concentrated frown, his hair. Jack didn't seem to wear gel. If Sem reached out, he could run his fingers through that shiny black hair. And with him so focused on wriggling a pin out of the chain, it almost seemed like he could get away with it. If only Jack wouldn't notice, and if only he wouldn't get caught.
Sem glanced around. The small auto fix shop was empty, aside from them. They were alone. He double checked the corners, craning his neck to look past cars. They were really alone. No friends, no nosy colleagues around at the moment, and Sem was wasting his time staring and drooling. He should grow a pair, and actually talk to him now that he had the chance. Maybe about the shop? Something about the bike? Sem struggled, but couldn't come up with anything clever to say.
This had to be karma payback. Sem always made fun of his friends when they couldn't speak to a girl they liked. 'It's so simple, you loser!' he'd always laugh.
Maybe it wasn't so simple when it actually meant something.
"Uh, you think it's gonna live? I can't really afford a new bike," Sem broke the silence. Oh God, that was so lame.
Miraculously though, a hint of a smile appeared on Jack's lips. "It's going to live."
The room went quiet again, aside from the clanging of Jack's tools. He appeared to be more of a silent worker type, and Sem was drawing another major blank. This was so awkward.
"You, uh go to the sport centre near Valsten university?" Sem managed to press out, "I think I recognise your face." Sure, after the gazillion glances Sem threw him every week, he ought to.
Jack had successfully removed the pin and one link, and placed them on the floor before turning to Sem. "Yes. Athletics. And you play football."
"Yeah." He knew! Sem's heart soared up high at the implication that Jack had noticed him too, and then plunged immediately again when he remembered yesterday's football match. It was probably not a good thing he noticed. "I'm Sem, by the way."
"Connor."
It was the normal thing to do really, give your name in return to the person who just introduced himself, but Sem had still been utterly unprepared for it. He'd wanted to know his real name, wondered about it for weeks. And now, so suddenly, he finally had it.
Connor.
It suited him, Sem decided. More so than Jack. Goodbye Jack, hello social media stalking that real name.
"Sem..." Connor seemed to think for a moment, pausing his hands' movements. "Sem Bolton?"
A storm of butterflies fluttered up in Sem's stomach. "Yes. How did you know?"
"You signed up for the Mercury camping trip right? Lisa mentioned a football player. I saw your name on the volunteer list."
"Pff, try forced to sign up."
Sem scowled, and had blurted out his reply without a second thought. Then, common sense kicked in. Mercury was athletics. Connor just said he does athletics. Maybe Connor was a member of Mercury, and maybe Connor actually liked that camping trip. Nice going, dumb-ass. Sem cleared his throat, which had gone dry. "I mean, that would be me on that list."
"I'm going too."
Sem's eyes widened. "Really? I thought the whole camping crew were pretty much all nerds from Valsten university."
Connor paused his work for the second time, lips twitching as if he was suppressing a smile. "They are. I'm one of the 'Valsten nerds', I guess."
Sem felt his face grow hot, realising his mistake. His mouth running far ahead of his brain was going to be the death of him some day. Probably today. "I didn't mean it like that," Sem stuttered, " I mean, my brother--my brother's really nerdy and I just-- I figured you were in some other local non-nerd college--"
He trailed off when Connor let out a quiet laugh, and smiled, actually smiled, at him. "You don't have much of a filter, do you?"
Sem's stomach butterflies had turned into leaping lizards with the realisation this was the first time he'd seen Connor smile. Not close-lipped or faint, but a full-on smile. He should do it more often, it lit up his whole face, hell, the whole room. Sem would be enjoying it more though if he hadn't just thoroughly embarrassed himself.
"Oh God." Sem dragged one hand down his forehead. "No filter at all. Be right back, I'll go stick my foot in my mouth."
"You're not wrong, though. We are complete nerds." Connor was no longer smiling, but his lips were still slightly tugged up as he clicked the pin in the chain. "And I'm pretty much done here."
Connor hopped to his feet, and gave the pedals an experimental spin. The chain and pedals rolled perfectly, fully connected again.
"Awesome!" Sem gave Connor a friendly pat on his shoulder now that he had an excuse to touch him, no matter how short that touch was. "So, how much do I owe you? And please don't charge extra because I called you a nerd," he joked, searching his pants pocket and finding his wallet.
Connor shook his head and chuckled. "You owe me nothing. This one's on me."
There was no way of knowing if Connor would've done this repair for free for anyone, but Sem couldn't help grinning stupidly anyway. "Okay. Thanks again. You really saved my ass here."
"It's no problem."
And there was Connor's signature closed-lipped smile again. The full one was better, but he'd take it.
Tearing his eyes away, and peering outside to check the weather's status quo, Sem let out a low whistle. "Damn. It's still pouring. You just saved me a thirty minute walk, but I'm still not looking forward to cycling through that. I'm not even dry yet from the last downpour I was in." Sem rubbed the fabric of his t-shirt between his fingers. It was still damp.
Connor perked up. "You want to borrow a coat? And I have a spare shirt in my locker. Hang on, let me get them."
He was barely done speaking, and didn't even await Sem's answer before rushing off to some back room. But somehow, Sem was already getting used to him being like that. From what he could tell, Connor was the actions more than words kind of guy. He immediately jumped up when there was something to fix, and it was very neat to watch.
Plus, Sem had to admit it was nice. Connor didn't need to do this for him. Going this far out of his way to help Sem meant he had to at least like him a little bit, right? Sem felt a warm rush of affection at the sight of Connor hurrying back, carrying the promised clothing in his hands. Yes, it definitely had to mean that.
"Thanks." Sem took the coat and shirt from Connor's hands.
The shirt fit comfortably, both width- and lengthwise. Sem supposed it wasn't surprising: they were pretty close in height -- Sem estimated Connor was about six feet just like he was-- and they were about the same size too. Connor must've had this shirt for a while, though. The white print ("Arctic Monkeys" Sem read upside down) was faded, and Sem poked at a tiny hole at the edge.
"It's a rather old shirt." Connor sounded apologetic, as he scratched the back of his head.
Sem quickly waved away his concerns. Of course he liked Connor's shirt, for the simple fact that it was Connor's shirt. "No no, I like it. The Arctic Monkeys are pretty cool."
Sem slipped the raincoat on, and then gripped the handle bars of his bike. "So, I guess it's time for me to head off." Sem flashed Connor yet another smile. "Hey, can I drop by tomorrow to give your stuff back?"
"Sure, I'll be here all evening tomorrow."
"Nice. See you tomorrow then. Bye"
"Bye."
And just like that, a couple seconds later, Sem cycled away from the repair shop in a daze, hardly aware of the rain. Had that all really happened? Wow. Not only was he ridiculously good-looking (yes up close too), Connor turned out to be so nice. And generous. And thoughtful. And Sem was going to see him again tomorrow, and at the camping trip. Fuck, when had he gotten excited about that lame trip? He had to stop his gushing right now. Smiling to himself, Sem made a mental note to download some albums for a new playlist. He was suddenly in the mood for Arctic Monkeys.
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