Richie shows up at Fonzie's garage just before closing time, when nobody else is around, for an oil change. It's routine - Fonzie could do it in his sleep - so it's easy for Fonzie to keep one eye on him, only because he kept watching Fonzie as he worked.

He tries to make small talk, but Fonzie shuts him up with one well-placed glare, and he looks down, chastened.

When Fonzie is done, Richie fumbles through his pockets - first his Chinos, then his college varsity jacket.

"I must have forgot my wallet at home," he says sheepishly, glancing down at the ground, then back up at Fonzie apologetically, like he thinks he can get out of this just by batting those big blue eyes.

"Then you got a problem, because I ain't letting you leave until you pay."

He visibly wilts, and Fonzie sighs a little.

"I guess I could give it to you on the house, just this once."

He brightens.

"But," Fonzie continues. "You'd have to make it worth my while."

His brow furrows in confusion. Fonzie thrusts his hips forward, once, and it's enough for it to finally sink in.

His eyes widen. He licks his lips as he stares at Fonzie, his gaze slowly moving down to his crotch.

He gets on his knees without saying a word.

Richie's a good actor. It'd be easy to go big and play it cartoonishly innocent, or underplay it and come off as not fully invested. If they hadn't talked about this before, Fonzie would almost think this was real.

But it makes sense that Richie would want to get this right. It had been his idea.

After the first time Richie had brought it up, Fonzie had asked how much Richie had thought about it. Richie had just grinned a little, half-bashful and half-satisfied. That had told Fonzie everything he needed to know, and he could practically see it: Richie, in the middle of the night, hand between his legs and his face buried in his pillow to muffle the sounds as he thought of Fonzie. (And if Fonzie's thoughts wandered to that on his date with Paula Petralunga the night after, nobody had to know but Fonzie.)

"I told my parents I'd be home in thirty minutes," Richie says.

Fonzie reaches out and lifts Richie by the chin, so Richie has no choice but to look him in the eye. He traces Richie's jawline before he pulls his hand away. Richie keeps his eyes firmly on Fonzie, though.

Richie has this way of looking at Fonzie, usually when he thinks Fonzie isn't looking back, with complete adoration and trust.

Fonzie's used to adoration. He's the Fonz, local hero, and he gets plenty of that. He's less used to the trust, and coming from Richie, there are times when Fonzie thinks he could get drunk off of it, off of this beautiful boy putting so much faith in him because he didn't know how not to look at Fonzie and see the good man that Fonzie could be.

Fonzie doesn't say any of this. That would be crossing a line. And at any rate, that's not what they're doing right now.

"Then I guess you'd better get started," Fonzie drawls, and Richie reaches out and pulls down the zipper of Fonzie's coveralls.

Once it's down all the way, Fonzie shrugs it off his shoulders, and Richie pulls it down until it's pooled around Fonzie's ankles. He rests his hands against Fonzie's legs for balance.

"You ever do this before?" Fonzie asks.

"Oh, no, never," Richie replies with wide-eyed sincerity. He's laying it on a little thick, but as he licks his lips and buries his face between Fonzie's legs, Fonzie can't really bring himself to care.

If this was real, and Fonzie and Richie really were just strangers, then it would probably be more like the first time they did this. Richie had been all tongue and no technique, even if it was kind of cute how enthusiastic he was.

But Richie was nothing if not a fast learner, and after a couple of weeks of fooling around in Fonzie's apartment and occasionally Richie's room, Richie managed to leave Fonzie out of breath and a little dazed. Fonzie can still remember how genuinely happy Richie looked when Fonzie gave him a thumbs up afterwards.

Richie mouths softly at Fonzie's entrance, dragging his lips against Fonzie's length and brushing against a nub of flesh.

He begins probing Fonzie's folds softly with his tongue, finding where he was wettest and sucking there before he moved back up to suck at the sensitive nub.

And right as Fonzie is about to come, Richie pulls away.

He looks up at Fonzie, grinning a little smugly, and if Fonzie wasn't so close he'd probably think it was cute.

Fonzie takes Richie by the head, threading his fingers through Richie's hair. He doesn't do anything else other than keep a firm grip, waiting for Richie to react.

Richie's grin gets bigger if anything, and Fonzie pushes him back between his legs.

Richie hums against Fonzie as Fonzie holds him in place by his hair, lapping at Fonzie, harder and faster than before. Heat pools in Fonzie's stomach, spreading into Fonzie's groin and then through his entire body.

He lets go of Richie as he comes, hand sliding down to Richie's neck. Richie keeps mouthing at Fonzie through his orgasm, only pulling away when Fonzie's breathing gets back to normal.

Fonzie looks down at Richie. His lips are swollen and his face is as red as his hair. He's breathing like he's just run a marathon, and he's lightly palming at his erection through his pants.

"You liked that, huh?" Fonzie asks.

Richie nods, hand still slowly working.

Fonzie pulls his coveralls back on as he watches Richie leisurely touch himself. Fonzie considers watching Richie get himself off here, to watch every jolt of pleasure flicker across his face and know that it's all for him, for Fonzie, and no one else.

But as tempting as that is, it's not half as appealing as Fonzie getting Richie off himself.

Fonzie leans down and takes Richie by the wrist, pulling him up and pressing his body against Fonzie's. He lets their foreheads bump together, lets Richie melt against him before he turns Richie around and bends him over the hood of Richie's car.

Fonzie lays himself over Richie's back and nuzzles Richie's neck as his hands circle Richie's hips, coming to his front to undo his belt. Richie groans and pushes back against Fonzie's hips.

Fonzie gets off of Richie and slides his pants down, before he steps back to look at Richie, half-naked and exposed.

Fonzie licks his lips and lightly runs a hand over Richie's exposed ass, savoring the way Richie visibly shivers at the touch.

On a whim, Fonzie slaps him.

The sound of skin against skin echoes through the empty garage, but all Fonzie can hear is the way Richie gasps, trying to catch his breath. He's pretty sure Richie enjoyed that, but Fonzie still breaks character just to ask "You liked that, Rich?"

"Yeah," Richie says, voice thick with arousal and embarrassment. "But warn me next time, Fonz."

Fonzie kisses the back of his neck and stands up straight, mostly to admire how Richie looks like right now: bent over the hood of his car, pants down, skin flushed red where Fonzie hit him, the only visible marking on Richie's otherwise creamy skin. It'll probably be back to normal tomorrow, and even if it isn't, it'll be safely hidden underneath Richie's clothes. Their little secret will be safe as ever.

Fonzie pulls the lube out of his pocket and uncaps it. The tips of Richie's ears turn red at the sound. He can't spread his legs very far with his pants around his knees, but he does what he can, wanting to make this as easy as possible for Fonzie.

"You know what I'm gonna do to you?" Fonzie asks as he slicks up his fingers.

"You're going to fuck me."

It was probably supposed to be a question, but it came out sounding much more certain than that.

"Yeah," Fonzie murmurs as he dips his slicked-up fingers between Richie's cheeks and traces around the rim. "You ever been fucked before?"

"No."

"No?" Fonzie presses the tip of his thumb, just the tip, inside Richie. "I don't believe you."

"I'm not a liar."

"You're a good-lookin' guy," Fonzie continues. "You never get that far with a girl? You never fool around with any of your guy friends?"

"No."

"Then today must be my lucky day," Fonzie says before he pushes his index finger inside taut heat, causing Richie to groan.

"You're tight, you know that?" Fonzie comments as casually as he can when all he wants to do is press on inside Richie until he's knuckle-deep.

"Is that good?" Richie asks with feigned innocence.

Fonzie pulls out and goes back in with two fingers. "It's real good. It means you weren't lying to me when you said you'd never done this before."

"What -" He groans again as Fonzie bends his fingers. "What would you do if I was lying?"

"Get angry," Fonzie says. "So angry I might do something drastic. Like stop."

On "stop," he pushes in deeper. There's a specific spot that'll make Richie's entire body seize up, that'll leave Richie practically sobbing from the intensity of what he's feeling. Fonzie discovered it almost by accident the first time they did this, and Richie had ended up sticky and breathless and looking at him with embarrassment and gratitude before he tackled Fonzie, sloppily kissing him and frantically jerking him off.

Fonzie hadn't been at the top of his game the first time he'd done this with Richie, not that Richie had noticed. Still, Fonzie took pride in his work, whether it was an engine in need of repairs or a body desperate for his touch, and there was something almost fun about learning what made Richie tick.

In theory, it's really no different from doing it with a girl, but in practice it's nothing like that. Fonzie's not sure if it's because Richie is a guy or because Richie is Richie, the person Fonzie loves like a brother. (It has to be like a brother. Fonzie's not sure what else there is right now.)

It doesn't take Fonzie too long to find the spot, the one that makes Richie call out "Fonz" and have it come out almost sounding like a sob.

Fonzie presses down on it, enjoying the way it makes Richie wriggle around his fingers and pant and moan. Richie tries to push his hips back and fuck himself against Fonzie's fingers, but Fonzie keeps him pinned against the hood with a hand on his spine. Richie huffs in frustration. He's getting desperate, Fonzie notes proudly.

Fonzie's the only one who's seen Richie like this, half-naked and needy and laid bare. Wanting something that only Fonzie can give him. Something he only wants from Fonzie, maybe something he's only ever wanted from Fonzie. And maybe someday he'll want it from someone else, some hoity-toity college guy who's never worked a day in his life, who'll touch Richie with smooth, uncallused hands. Fonzie doesn't even know the guy and he already hates his guts.

But for now, there's only Fonzie.

Fonzie drapes himself over Richie again, keeping his fingers working in and out as he slips his other hand around Richie's waist and begins working his dick. Richie's so keyed up at this point that it only takes a few strokes to make Richie cry out as his entire body spasms.

Fonzie rolls off of him, and Richie slumps down, eyes glazed over like they always are after he's been fucked good and hard.

"That was..." He closes his eyes as he tries to get his head straight. "Wow."

It's always a point of pride when Fonzie can leave Richie practically speechless. Fonzie slides into a sitting position next to him, and Richie rests his head on Fonzie's shoulder as Fonzie takes him by the hand, fingers interlocking.

"Y'know," Richie says, lifting his head to look Fonzie in the eye. "I don't actually have to be back in thirty minutes."

Fonzie lightly strokes Richie's thumb with his own. "Yeah? Any idea how to pass the time?"

Richie leans against Fonzie and kisses him.