The Tarnished Spanner

The wrench slipped, as it always did when Vic was trying to prove a point, not just fix something. It pinged off the outboard’s rusty casing, a dull thud swallowed by the humid air, before skittering across the grimy plywood deck. He swore under his breath, a low, guttural sound that scratched his throat dry. The ‘Sea Serpent’, his grand escape plan from Port Blight, looked less like a vessel of freedom and more like a rusty, sputtering coffin.

Three weeks. Three weeks until the annual Port Blight Regatta, a glorified pissing contest between fishermen and weekend warriors, and Vic was still wrestling with an engine that had more loose parts than a bag of old Lego. He wiped grease from his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a black smudge that mirrored the one already streaking his cheek. The sun, a brutal fist in the hazy July sky, baked the docks, pulling the scent of low tide and decaying pilings up from the water. Everything here was thick. The air, the silence, the lingering taste of failure. Everything but his patience.

He kicked the toolbox, a dented red relic that had probably seen more battles than he had. It rattled, a sound that felt too loud, too desperate. He just wanted out. Out of this town, out of the shadow of his dad’s ‘golden boy’ reputation, and most of all, out from under Kai’s infuriating, watchful eye. Kai. The name alone made something coil tight in his gut, a mix of old resentment and something… hotter. Something he refused to name, even in the privacy of his own churning thoughts.

A shadow fell over the deck, long and lean. Vic didn’t need to look up. He felt it, that prickle of awareness that always heralded Kai’s presence, like a static charge in the air before a storm. He clenched his jaw, gripping the useless wrench. "Can a man not suffer in peace?" he muttered, not bothering to turn.

Kai’s voice, smooth and deceptively calm, drifted over him. "Peace? You? Vic, you look less peaceful and more like you’re contemplating committing aggravated assault on a carburetor." Vic heard the soft scuff of Kai’s worn work boots on the dock planks. Closer. Too close.

He finally looked up, squinting against the glare. Kai stood there, leaning against a weathered mooring post, arms crossed. Even in a simple, oil-stained Henley, the man looked like he’d stepped out of some high-gloss magazine. No stray hairs, no sweat marks, just a faint sheen that made his skin look impossibly… healthy. Vic hated it. Hated the way Kai always looked put together, always seemed to have everything under control. His dark hair, still a little damp from what Vic assumed was an early morning swim, curled perfectly at his temples. And those eyes. Dark, unreadable, but with a spark that never quite left Vic alone. He swore they followed him, even when Kai wasn't looking.

"Is there a point to this ambush, or are you just here to critique my engine-based anger management issues?" Vic snapped, his voice rougher than he intended. He could feel the heat rising in his face, a familiar, unwelcome flush.

Kai uncrossed his arms, pushing off the post. He moved with a languid grace that irritated Vic even more. "Just passing by. Saw the old ‘Serpent’ listing a little more than usual. And heard some… rather creative expletives." A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on Kai’s lips. It was a subtle thing, but Vic caught it, and it tightened the knot in his stomach. God, he wanted to wipe that off Kai’s face. Preferably with a greasy rag.

"She's fine," Vic lied, gesturing vaguely at the engine, which had definitely sounded like a dying walrus five minutes ago. "Just a stubborn fuel line." He could feel Kai’s eyes on him, a heavy weight that made him acutely aware of the sweat trickling down his spine, the grime under his fingernails. He was a mess, and Kai was… Kai. It was always like this.

"Stubborn fuel line, huh?" Kai drawled, taking another slow step closer, then another, until he was standing right at the edge of Vic’s boat. Close enough that Vic could smell the faint scent of salt and something crisp, like expensive soap, clinging to him. Close enough that Vic could see the faint scar above Kai’s left eyebrow, a thin white line he’d probably gotten from some perfectly athletic, perfectly heroic childhood mishap.

Vic gritted his teeth. "What, you think you’re some kind of engine whisperer now?"

"I’ve fixed a few, you know. Especially ones that sound like they’re choking on gravel." Kai’s gaze dropped to Vic’s hands, then back up, lingering on the dark smudges on his face. Vic felt a sudden, irrational urge to scrub himself clean, to disappear. He hated being seen this way, vulnerable, struggling.

"I’m doing just fine. You can take your expert opinion and shove it where the sun don't shine," Vic retorted, pushing a loose strand of hair off his forehead. It just fell back, sticky with sweat. Humiliating.

Kai’s smirk widened a fraction. "Feisty. Always a good look on you." The words, delivered in that low, even tone, hit Vic like a physical blow. Not a compliment, not really. More like an observation, an assessment. And it made his heart pound, a frantic drum against his ribs. He felt his cheeks burn hotter, a violent, involuntary reaction that he absolutely despised. He hated that Kai could do this to him, every damn time.

"Just say what you came to say, Kai. Don't hover like a particularly handsome vulture," Vic snapped, leaning over the engine again, pretending to scrutinize a perfectly fine hose. His hands were shaking, just a little. He hoped Kai didn't notice. He was trying to project an aura of complete disinterest, but the truth was, his entire body was screaming, aware of Kai's proximity, his stillness.

"Fine." Kai’s voice dropped, losing its casual edge. "Is it true? You’re actually entering the Regatta this year?"

Vic froze. He hadn't told anyone. He’d signed up under a fake name, 'E. Vance,' just to avoid this exact conversation. "What’s it to you?" he mumbled, not looking up. His fingers fumbled with a bolt, dropping it with a clatter.

"It's a small town, Vic. News travels. Especially when it involves you. And the ‘Sea Serpent’."

"So what if I am? It’s not like I haven’t done it before. You know, before…" He trailed off, the unspoken history hanging heavy between them. Before the last Regatta, before the blow-up, before Vic swore he’d never race again, never let Kai get under his skin like that.

"Before you swore off anything that involved competing with me," Kai finished, his voice flat. It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact. And it stung, because it was true.

Vic finally straightened up, gripping the edge of the boat, knuckles white. "It’s not about you, Kai. It’s about the prize money. I need to get out of this town. For good." He met Kai’s gaze, defiance warring with a raw, exposed desperation.

Kai’s eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle shift that sent a shiver down Vic’s spine despite the heat. "And you think winning the Regatta is your ticket? That tub?" He gestured at the 'Sea Serpent' with an almost insulting dismissiveness.

"She's got potential!" Vic flared, instantly defensive. "She just needs… she needs work."

"A lot of work, if that engine's anything to go by." Kai stepped onto the boat, the planks groaning softly under his weight. Vic instinctively recoiled, a tiny, almost imperceptible step back that he immediately regretted. It felt like an admission, a weakness. Kai was on his territory now, and Vic felt… crowded. Exposed.

"Get off my boat, Kai," Vic said, his voice low, a warning.

Kai ignored him, leaning over the engine, his long fingers surprisingly deft as they prodded at the fuel line. Vic watched, mesmerized and repulsed, as Kai’s movements were precise, confident. He felt a weird mix of annoyance and… something else, a flicker of grudging admiration. The man was infuriatingly good at everything he put his mind to.

"This isn't just a stubborn fuel line, Vic," Kai said, his voice calm, focused. "Your carb’s flooded. And your spark plugs are fouled. You’re lucky she even sputtered." He looked up, his dark eyes meeting Vic’s, a challenge in their depth. "You’re running her on fumes, literally and figuratively."

Vic felt the accusation, sharp and cold. He knew Kai wasn't just talking about the boat. He was talking about Vic himself. Always had been. Kai had always seen through his bluster, his carefully constructed walls, straight to the raw, beating heart of his anxieties. It infuriated him, how easily Kai could read him, how he could strip him bare with just a look, a few quiet words. He felt his face flush again, a deep, angry red. He wanted to hit something. Or someone.

"So what? Are you offering me your services, Kai? Going to bestow your mechanical genius on my humble, unworthy vessel?" Vic scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He knew Kai took pride in his work, in his meticulousness, his flawless engineering. It was the antithesis of Vic’s chaotic, instinct-driven approach.

Kai pulled back, straightening up. He was taller than Vic, broader in the shoulders. He loomed, not aggressively, but with a quiet, undeniable presence. The air between them thrummed, thick with unspoken history, with the weight of old grievances and new, unsettling sparks. Vic could feel the heat radiating off Kai, a magnetic pull that scared him more than any engine failure.

"I wouldn't insult myself," Kai said, his lips tilting in that familiar, infuriating smirk. "But you’re going to need help if you actually want to finish this race, let alone win it. You’re missing half your tools, and you obviously haven't learned a damn thing since high school shop class."

"I can fix it myself!" Vic insisted, a hollow ring to his voice even to his own ears. He felt a desperate need to prove himself, not just to Kai, but to himself. To prove that he could stand on his own, could make his own way, without Kai's… interference.

"Can you? Or will you just strip every bolt and blame the tide?" Kai took another step, closing the small gap between them. Vic’s breath hitched in his throat. He could feel the warmth of Kai’s body, the subtle shifting of his weight. It was too much, too close. His eyes darted to Kai’s mouth, then quickly away, his heart hammering.

"I… I don’t need your help, Kai," Vic stammered, his voice cracking. He hated how weak he sounded, hated how his body betrayed him. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins, the frantic pulse at his temples. He just wanted Kai to back off, to give him space, to let him breathe.

Kai’s gaze was intense, unwavering. It felt like he was looking right into Vic’s soul, stripping away all his defenses. "You want to get out, Vic? Really? Then you'll do whatever it takes. Even if it means swallowing your pride and letting someone who actually knows what they’re doing give you a hand." His voice was low, almost a murmur, but it carried an undeniable weight, a command. Vic felt himself sway, just a fraction.

"Why?" Vic finally managed, the word a desperate whisper. "Why do you even care? Just let me go, Kai. Let me leave this place."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Kai’s face, a momentary shadow. Then it was gone, replaced by that familiar, unyielding intensity. He reached out, his hand moving slowly, deliberately. Vic flinched, but didn’t pull away, frozen in place, his breath caught. Kai’s calloused thumb brushed the grease smudge on Vic’s cheek, a light, searing touch that sent a jolt through him, electrifying every nerve ending. Vic’s eyes widened, locked on Kai’s, unable to look away.

"Because," Kai said, his voice even lower now, a rough rumble that vibrated through Vic’s chest, "I’m not done with you yet, Vic." His thumb lingered, tracing the curve of Vic’s cheekbone, before he leaned in, his gaze dropping to Vic's lips. Vic felt a sudden, dizzying rush, a dangerous anticipation. The air crackled around them, thick with tension, with something hot and undeniable, pulling them closer, closer...

A loud, obnoxious horn blared from a passing fishing trawler, shattering the moment. Kai pulled back abruptly, his hand dropping. Vic stumbled, catching himself on the engine casing, his face burning. He felt a desperate, irrational disappointment warring with a flood of panicked relief. He inhaled sharply, the smell of salt and diesel suddenly overwhelming.

Kai’s expression was shuttered, unreadable once more, but his eyes held a glint, a dangerous promise. He stepped back onto the dock, creating a physical distance that did nothing to quell the frantic pounding in Vic’s chest. "Think about it, Vic," Kai said, his voice back to its cool, controlled cadence, but with an underlying steel that Vic knew well. "You need to fix that engine. And you need to win. You won't do either by yourself." He turned then, without another word, and walked away, his presence lingering like a brand on Vic’s skin. Vic watched him go, his entire body trembling, the image of Kai’s face, so close, so intense, seared behind his eyelids. He was still breathing hard, the ghost of Kai's touch burning on his cheek. The engine was forgotten. All he could think about was Kai, and the impossible, suffocating knot of feelings that just wouldn't let him go.