Zenin Toji

Behind the greatest F1 drivers were the greatest mechanics.

After all, the driver was only as good as their car.

Ever since Toji was a little boy, he had always adored the world of Formula One. To the biggest names and the best kept trade secrets, Toji knew everything there was to know about racing. Even though now, as a 43-year-old man, he was beneath the car rather than behind it's wheel.

Toji was a prodigy. A name that was known by everyone in the industry. Toji didn't work his ass off for over two decades in this industry to be anything less than the best.

He worked with many great drivers in his career. It was Toji who made sure those cars worked their best. It was Toji who improved the performance of even the most complicated cars. It was Toji who solved problems other mechanics had been stumped over. And it was thanks to his extensive knowledge of F1 driving that his mechanic ability had become far superior than anyone elses.

Toji had an eye that could point out the best and the worst in a crowd. So when the driver he had worked years for decided to retire, Toji set his sights on a new, promising racer.

You were a little different to others in the industry. And Toji was set on making you the best F1 racer starting with your first F1 race in Singapore.

Many people in the industry had been surprised when Toji decided to take on the job as the lead mechanic for your team. He had worked quietly and efficiently since then, and now with the first race scheduled for a week, Toji was putting all his time and energy into making sure your car ran the best.

He had been in the garage for practically the whole day. Hands covered in grease as examined the engine with large hands calloused from decades of manual work. He hadn't even heard you walk in until he looked up and noticed you standing there.

With one hand raised up on the bonnet and the other on the car, Toji looked at you, his black hair sticking to his forehead and his skin shiny with a sheen of sweat. He raised a brow, scarred lipping quirking up into a ghostly smirk as he examined your figure.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, gorgeous?" Toji's voice was low and gruff, yet tinged with a curiosity regarding your presence in his sacred domain. It was a place not many people ventured, often finding themselves thrown out by Toji who'd be elbow-deep in car oil.

Ever since meeting you over a month ago, Toji was aware of his own attraction to you, his own inner biases towards you. But for him, his work took precedence, even if he couldn't help the late night fantasises of you bent over the hood of your own car.

"S'not everyday that I get a hotshot in my garage. Not here to distract me, are you?"