The Mechanic’s Apprentice – Part 16

Everyone in this story is 18+

Collision Course

The shop was quiet, the late hour wrapping the place in an eerie stillness. The only sounds were the occasional hum of distant traffic and the soft scrape of tools against metal. I was lying on the creeper again, half-heartedly working on a rusted muffler while my mind wandered.

Joe was there too, as he often was after hours, leaning against the workbench with that same casual authority he carried himself with. His presence was grounding, commanding, and I couldn’t deny how it drew me in. But lately, it wasn’t just Joe occupying my thoughts.

It was Connor.

Even now, my mind flitted back to the way he’d smiled at me last night, his dimples softening his already delicate features. The way he’d leaned in, his touch gentle but insistent, his words full of quiet confidence that somehow hit me harder than Joe’s barked orders ever could. Connor wasn’t just a distraction anymore. He was... something. Something I wasn’t ready to put a name to.

“You’re daydreaming again, kid,” Joe’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp but not unkind.

“Sorry,” I muttered, snapping back to the moment. I could feel his eyes on me, heavy with that mix of impatience and... something else.

Joe’s boot nudged my leg, and I rolled out from under the car, wiping my hands on my overalls. He was standing over me now, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, his broad frame blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights above.

“You’re distracted,” he said simply, his tone low as he reached for the strap of my overalls, tugging me forward. “Guess I’ll have to remind you where your focus should be.”

I didn’t resist. I never resisted with Joe. There was something about the way he took control, the way he left no room for doubt or hesitation, that I craved. But as he backed me up against the workbench, his hands already pulling at the ties of my overalls, a flicker of something else crept in—guilt.

Connor’s face flashed in my mind. His laugh, his touch, the way he’d called me out for staring like it was the most natural thing in the world. I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to shake it off. Connor and I weren’t... anything. Not really. We were friends. Friends who hooked up. Friends who kissed and laughed and sometimes made me feel like maybe I wasn’t as messed up as I thought.

But still, I cared about him. More than I wanted to admit.

Joe’s hand on my jaw brought me back. His grip was firm, his thumb brushing my bottom lip as his eyes locked onto mine. “You with me, Ryder?”

I nodded, though my chest felt tight. Torn. Because I was with him, in this moment. But part of me wasn’t. Part of me was still with Connor, in the bathroom last night, or on the couch at home, or anywhere that felt... softer.

I nodded, though my chest felt tight. Torn. Because I was with him, in this moment. But part of me wasn’t. Part of me was still with Connor—in the bathroom last night, on the couch at home, or anywhere that felt... softer.

But Joe’s pull was undeniable, raw and commanding in a way that bypassed thought entirely. His hands came down firmly on my shoulders, pushing me to my knees in one smooth motion. The cool floor of the shop sent a chill through my legs, grounding me as I looked up at him, his gaze heavy with expectation.

I reached up, fumbling slightly as I opened his fly, freeing his thick, half-hard cock. The familiar weight of it filled my palm as I stroked him slowly, feeling him swell and harden against my touch. The musky scent of him filled my nose, heady and masculine, making my chest tighten in a completely different way.

“Go on,” Joe muttered, his hand resting lightly on the back of my head. “Show me what you’ve got, kid.”

I leaned forward, taking him into my mouth as far as I could. The stretch was still a challenge, but I was getting better—his gruff murmurs of approval told me as much. His taste was salty, faintly bitter, and the sensation of him filling my mouth, brushing the back of my throat, sent a shiver down my spine.

“Nice, kid,” Joe rumbled, his voice low and thick. “You’re getting better at that.”

His words spurred me on, and I moved with more confidence, hollowing my cheeks as I worked him over. His hand tightened in my hair, guiding me, but never too roughly—it was always just enough to keep me exactly where he wanted. The heat between us grew, the sound of my mouth on him mixing with the low hum of the shop’s fluorescent lights.

My own dick was straining against my overalls, throbbing in time with the bob of my head. I shifted slightly, pressing my thighs together for some kind of relief, but it wasn’t enough. The act of submission, of being here on my knees for him, was intoxicating in its own right, but a part of me couldn’t help but think about Connor—how different this was from him.

Joe’s grip tightened again, pulling me closer, and I let myself get lost only wanting to get him off. The sheer dominance of his presence, the way he filled every inch of the my mouth with his Man meat, left no room for doubt or hesitation. I closed my eyes, focusing on the taste of him, the heat of his skin, the way his breathing grew heavier with every movement.

And that’s when it happened.

The sharp creak of the shop door opening broke through the haze, jolting both of us out of the moment. Joe stilled, his hand falling away from my head, and I turned instinctively toward the noise, my stomach dropping as I met Connor’s wide, disbelieving eyes.

Connor was standing in the doorway, his face pale, his eyes wide. He looked at me, then at Joe, then back at me, his expression shifting from shock to something I couldn’t quite name. Hurt? Betrayal? I didn’t know, but it twisted in my chest all the same.

“Connor,” I started, stepping toward him, but he held up a hand, stopping me in my tracks.

“I... I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, his voice tight. “I just...Never mind.”

Joe, to his credit, stepped back, his usual confidence replaced by a faint unease. “Connor—”

“Don’t,” Connor said sharply, his gaze snapping to his father. “I don’t want to hear it.”

He turned on his heel and walked out, the sound of the door slamming behind him echoing through the shop. I stood there, frozen, my heart pounding as the weight of what just happened settled over me.