cuda

Title: Boredom
Author:

cuda
Fandom: The Fast & The Furious; Brian/Dom friendship
Rating: T+ for language
Disclaimer: This was written for pure enjoyment. I don't own the Fast & Furious franchise or any of the characters depicted in this story. Roses red, violets blue. I no own; you no sue.

*

Things got boring around the Toretto household five days out of the week. Brian wasn't sure what he'd expected, but he was pretty sure it wasn't Sunday through Thursday digging around under the hood all afternoon. Everybody had their job, everybody was doing it. He'd come on the place tense, looking over his shoulder, expecting something bad to happen, hoping something bad would happen. And for days on end, nothing did.

Brian didn't know what to make of it. He was a cop and he'd been in trouble with the law before he became a cop, and his sense of reality warned him that life wasn't like the movies even for convicts and rebels, but the part of him that occasionally slid into fantasy was disappointed.

They were playing music on the goddamned radio in the garage! Not even fast stuff. They had it tuned to one of the ubiquitous classic rock stations. Billy Joel bounced around the open concrete space with the jarring explosiveness of a Tommy Gun: "If he can't drive with a broken BACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK..."

Brian was good at rolling with whatever. Good at saying 'no big deal' and focusing on what he had to do whether it was really a big deal or not. It was why he excelled at his job. But really, damn, everyone was just working in here to Billy fucking Joel.

Crouched in a cradle of naked steel chassis, Dom appeared oblivious. White-pink sparks danced over the edge of the chassis and reflected in the dark panel of his welding mask as he cut a custom fitting for a bundle of new electrical cords. A circle of hot metal hit the floor with a kriiing at Brian's approach, and Dom twisted off the cutting torch. He flipped up his mask and glanced at Brian, eyebrows lifted. "What, you never used a torch before?"

"Yeah, I use a torch," Brian retorted, suddenly defensive. A little too defensive, he reminded himself, don't try so hard. But man, he could have beaten Dom, he beat everybody else and Dom gave him this job and he was doing it great but still they (mostly Dom) treated him like he was some stupid fuck about cars--

"Then get a mask," Dom waved at the workbench.

Chagrined, Brian followed the impatient sweep of his arm to the extra mask and a pair of gloves. Dom climbed over the fender when Brian returned and gestured for him to take the spot. "Finish up. We got a whole new electrical harness and course the new headlights don't fit. I chalked out the holes, just cut 'em." He handed Brian the torch, rolled his shoulders and stepped back, leaning on the frame near the driver's side window. Going to watch him do it. Brian's jaw pulsed, but he turned the torch on and got to work.

At least the hiss and roar of the work drowned out the music.