“How may I help you, Mister Lawrence?” Thomas seemingly appeared out of nowhere, scaring the living daylights out of Sammy.
The mechanic had a concerned look once again, looking down at the musician with his hands on his hips, watching him intently over his think rimmed reading glasses.
“You–” Sammy managed to squeal out, seemingly with his tail between his legs. “Connor.” He said, more to himself than for him. “I just came because the pipe in my office was making noise– too much noise.”
“Is that so?” Thomas raised a brow, one of his hands instinctively going to feel around his belt to make sure he had all his tools. “alright, thanks for telling me, and sorry for the bother.”
Sammy raised his brows at that– Thomas had apologized to him? Or rather, he was always apologetic, but the music director never took notice of it, and so he followed him like a tail when the GENT man started making his way toward the music department.
The shorter man narrowed his eyes to have a good look at the man in front of him, he would often refuse to wear his glasses, as he deemed them to make him look ridiculous.
He saw a broad back with a nice waist, not much like a woman's, but a nice waist overall, and the jumpsuit that clung to his body, covered in grime and God knows what other things. Although his vision failed him, his nose didn't, he had a nice smell to him, too– even though the smell was pure sweat and ink, and something metallic too.
Sammy got lost in thought, unintentionally trying to imagine how Tom looked like under his clothes, as a treat. They arrived to the music department, and Sammy pulled out the keys to his office, which he rightfully kept locked, just like Thomas did.
After he unlocked his office, he stepped aside so the mechanic stepped in, and closed the door behind them, after that, Thomas curiously leaned over Sammy's desk, trying to get a better view of the pipe above it.
Sammy caught a glimpse of that, and he immediately felt his cheeks heat up.
“It is doing some weird noises.” Thomas mumbled for himself, putting his hand against the wall for support, leaning a bit more on the desk. “You should move your desk, too, since it's right under the pipe– it could cause some accidents.”
“Uh-huh.” Sammy nodded along as Thomas stepped back.
Sammy was quite lost in the view of Tom's ass as he leaned over desk, it looked full, like the rest of him.
“Do me a favor and move these.” He gestured at the desk and the things laying on it. “So I can work better.”
Sammy didn't say a thing, grabbing his glasses and popping them on his face, he certainly felt his cheeks burn hotter, from shame, most likely, as he gathered some papers to put them aside.
Thomas stood in front of the door, with his hands folded behind his back. He watched Sammy frantically stuff everything in whatever space he had available. And Tom got an opportunity to get a good look at Sammy as well, his shirt club nicely to his chest, and he often wore tight pants, he didn't have much ass, but it was enough to look at. He mentally punched himself and looked away, waiting patienly.
Sammy grabbed the desk by a corner, dragging it across the small and clutched office, leaving it in the middle, as Tom moved back to work
The whole thing was just a back and forth of the two of them eating each other with their eyes– mainly Sammy. Thomas still had some shame left.
Tom checked the pipe, going back and forth between the sewers and pulling some levers that Sammy couldn't tell you what they were about even if you paid him, but afte what seemed to be hours, the noises finally stopped– or at least, became the noises he would usually hear while sitting on his desk.
Thomas gave him a hand on accommodating everything once again, where he got the opportunity to look at his ass once again, and then he left as quick as he'd stepped through that door.
Sammy left out a breath he didn't knew he was holding, and so he stood up to put the lock once again on his door, plopping back into his wooden chair with a groan.
Stupid Connor, he wouldn't be able to concentrate in anything else but him
