✔️The Greaser and the Skirtchaser [18+]

20. Their Pervy Little Games

Sure, falling in love was a pretty regular thing for Blake, but he felt like was half-convinced that a screw came loose or something after that concert. With his past flings, he usually just felt giddier to see them, but with Vance, it was so different. He was goddamn smitten, and Vance was just so... Vance.

Blake couldn't find one thing to dislike about him. Sure, Vance had his head buried in the sand about how homosexual he was, couldn't decide whether he hated or loved sneaking out with Blake, and was somehow both overly trusting and stubborn for his own good. But honestly, Blake loved those parts, too; Vance was just goddamn perfect. It really was so much more fun with a pair of rose-tinted glasses for those following weeks after their date at the concert... except for when Vance was icing Blake out over a buncha numbers.

"Come on, your mom isn't even home. Shouldn't we be fucking like rabbits right now?" Blake was draped over Vance's shoulders as he was looking at the ledgers for his family's auto-shop—the same ones he was looking at the last time Blake came in through his window. "I know you wanna."

"I don't. And your pervy little games can wait until after," he said even with that hot blush on his face. He didn't even shrug Blake off.

"So, we're agreed that we're going to be playing pervy little games?"

"You just hear what you wanna hear." Vance just gave him a stern look.

"I just dunno why you have to be worried with all these numbers. I mean, don't you have any adults to do this?"

"Sure, but I spend a lot of time at the shop, so I could also decide if we're okay to cut back on a part. My uncles look at it and make the final decisions after, but this is—"

"The grunt work?"

"No." Vance huffed and turned back to his papers. "It's important."

"Right. So, you should get a reward for working so hard. You've been a good boy." Blake leaned in and kissed the tip of his ear.

"Hey." He said that, but he didn't push Blake off.

Blake made a gentle nibble. A graze, really.

"Blake."

"Yes?"

"You're distracting." He touched Blake's arm and pushed.

Blake got up and sighed. "Alright, let's take a look at the books."

Vance sputtered when Blake scooped them up and flopped onto his bed, holding the stack above his face. "Hey, be careful with those!"

"Yes, I will." Blake had been idly skimming these things since Vance was so goddamn focused on it, but these were becoming obstacles to sexy times, so Blake was going to see what he can do to get rid of them. The shop was really cutting corners on just about everything—most of the inventory circled or struck through, so it wasn't like they were spending outrageously. Honestly, most of that seemed like Vance would know way more about it, and the only thing Blake could tell was that there just wasn't enough revenue. Business slowed and slowed in Northfield. "You ever tried to lower prices?"

"They're about as low as we can go."

"That big chain in Resthaven is undercutting you. Even if you have to drive, the price is still better even if it's lower quality." Blake was guilty of going down there for maintenance and repairs himself. "How about I pop the tires off a few cop cars and drum up some business for you?"

"No!"

"Suit yourself." Blake handed the papers back and hummed, staring at the ceiling. "Hey, why don't I spread the word about your shop up at the drag? Rocky's been looking for a better mechanic, you know, and I'm sure he'll put in a good word with all the other racers."