"You're coming over now? Really? … No, no, of course that's ok – um, see you in a bit!" and you hang up the phone, because, shit, you're screwed. Because, see, the thing is, it's a Sunday afternoon, and you're just helping your dad in the garage – and that's fine, right? – but nowBlaine's coming over, and here you are, dressed in overalls and covered in grease and oh, it's a travesty! And you're dad's just popped out, which is good, you suppose, but how are you meant to get cleaned up before Blaine gets here and finish the job your dad left for you? Well, you're up to your elbows in car at the moment, so you just sigh and carry on – you'll deal with Blaine when he arrives.

And then there's a shout from the front.
"Kurt? You in there?"
"I'm in the garage, honey, just come on through!" you call back, and as he starts to roll up the shutter, you have a bright idea: here you are, covered in oil – you might as well make the most of it.

As soon as he catches sight of you, his jaw drops, and you can almost feel the gust of breath hit you from three feet away. He's utterly speechless, because there you are, in overalls, which should be about the least sexy things ever, but you're also artfully smeared with grease, and reclining casually on the hood of a particularly attractive red sports car which a client had left to be serviced. So, yeah, Blaine's speechless.

"Hey, baby," you coo, trying to hide the wave of smug satisfaction that hits you when all he can do is stumble closer and stare. "I was just fixing up this old thing, and …", but he's right in front of you now, and the intensity in his lust darkened eyes makes you stutter to a halt. He reaches out a finger, slowly, and swipes it across your cheek. You shiver at the electricity of his touch, and as he pulls it back, you see that it's stained black. He holds it up to his face and just looks for a long second, before letting out something between a moan and a whimper, which goes straight between your legs.

You reach down and pick up the nearest tool you can find, then smirk a little as you see that you're holding a spanner. You bring it up to where he can see, then run your fingers over it, gently. The very tips of your digits ghost along its shaft, before curling around the head and exerting a little more pressure. Blaine's gulp is audible, and he reaches out a hand to rest on the car to steady himself, but all the while his gaze is fixated on you. You grip the spanner firmly in one hand, whilst using the other to stroke its length. You curl your long fingers into a fist around and start pumping in earnest, and Blaine's panting in time to your strokes. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and you can't hold back a groan.

Suddenly, you're tired of all the teasing, so you let the tool drop, instead reaching up to pull Blaine down onto the car beside you. He lets out a little grunt of surprise, but then your hands are locked in his hair and you're kissing him. Your tongue dives deep into his mouth, and he submits entirely to its exploration.
"So … hot … for you … right now," he pants out around your lips.
"Good," you growl back, and kiss your way down his jawline, his throat, pausing to lap at the little dip above his collar-bone. You pull back, and he whimpers, but he's too wrecked to actually do anything about it. You enjoy the view for a moment, before swiping some grease off somewhereand trailing your finger down the path your lips had taken a few moments ago. "Mmmh, much better," you say, your voce low and husky, and he just blinks in response, so you kiss him again. Surprisingly, the faint bitterness of the car oil just makes him taste better.

You're just getting into it, when you hear the sound of the shutters beginning to roll up again.
"Shit!" you curse into his mouth, "that'll be my dad!" You leap off of him and hiss for him to move, but he's still a little dazed, which certainly boosts your ego if nothing else. You drag him as best you can into a standing position next to you, and just hope that your lips aren't too noticeably kiss-swollen.

"Kurt, you done with the … oh, hi there, Blaine! Nice to see you helping out!" and Blaine just nods dazedly in response, but luckily, your dad doesn't seem to notice the wild look in his eyes and his curls springing free from their gel restraint. "I guess I'll leave you boys to it, then!" and you feel Blaine sag in relief beside you. "Oh, and, Kurt?" and Blaine's wincing into your shoulder. "You've got a bit of oil, right there…" he says, gesturing to his nose.

"Oh, thanks dad!" and your voice is half an octave higher than usual, but he still doesn't notice anything off. As soon as he's safely in the house, Blaine turns to you.
"You really need to wear overalls more often," he says, the intensity of his tone making you smile.

"Sure, babe," you say, smearing a bit of grease on his nose, "now, where were we?"