denim. unruly hair that just won’t stay put. calloused hands. calls you darlin’ in that sweet, lazy drawl. low slung tool belts. muttered curses. beat up pick up truck. crooked smirks.
handyman!steve, who doesn’t bat an eye when you come bouncing downstairs in your tiny pyjamas, totally unaware that your parents had hired him to fix the leaky sink. he offers you a lazy ‘mornin’,” holding back a laugh at your quiet greeting.
handyman!steve, who is all polite manners, please’s and thank you’s, when you sheepishly offer him a coffee, or water, or lemonade when the weather turns particularly molten. his eye contact never wavers as he takes the first sip, swiping a stray droplet from the corner of his mouth.
handyman!steve, who pretends not to notice the way you linger in the doorway, or ask one too many questions about the flickering porch light for the whole thing to be entirely casual. you claim simple curiosity, but no one can be that intrigued by the inner workings of a lightbulb.
handyman!steve, who charms your parents instantly with his easy smiles and low prices. he quickly becomes your parents go to man for any task, from cleaning out your gutters to assembling your mom’s new coffee table. steve doesn’t mind: your folks pay well, and you aren’t exactly hard on the eyes either.
handyman!steve, who exhibits an inhuman level of self restraint every time he walks past your bedroom. the golden door handle glints in the corner of his eye, tempting him to just take one peek out of sheer curiosity.
potential new au.. will likely write a bunch of little fics and blurbs with this concept but we’ll see !!!!
