Work Text:
An engine backfired…
“WHERE YOU AT DRUMMER?”
She sighed “HERE!” she shouted in response, rising to her feet while brushing dirt and pine needles from her pants. She slid into her boots and shook out her hair, striding across the clearing towards the growing cacophony.
Rounding the corner, she stepped into the campsite. The black, graffiti-covered van belched smoke from the tailpipe. It gave an unhealthy cough and heaved into silence.
“What’s up with the van?”
Martin stepped out from the driver's seat, walked to the front of the van and propped up the hood, “Dunno. Maybe it doesn’t want to be a car anymore.”
“That’s a possibility? It was running fine an hour ago.”
Martins voice floated over the popped hood. “Never done this before...”
“What, you mean you’ve never had to fix it?” Amanda raised an eyebrow. “This thing is at least 20 years old.”
“Always just worked when it needed to. Maybe it’s not supposed to work no more.”
Amanda slid the door open and grabbed two beers from a battered cooler. She tossed one over the hood of the van, and Martin caught it without looking up. Amanda cracked her own open, sliding down to a seat on the ground leaning against a tree.
“Well shit, the guys were expecting a pick up from town.” She licked froth from the top of the can
“Don’ know what to tell you.” He dropped the hood with a bang and jumped up to sit on it, legs hanging over the front. “She don’ want to run. Will of the universe I guess. They won’t mind the exercise.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging where his glasses sat, and then brought his fingers ponderously to his chin, smearing engine grease on his face in the process. Taking a deep drink he let out a low grumble.
Amanda looked over and laughed. “Dude, your hands are filthy.
Martin looked down at his fingers “…not wrong, what’s your point?” He cracked a thin smile.
Amanda stepped towards the van “Let me help you with that, moron.” She pulled the sleeve of her flannel over her hand and rubbed at the grease marks on his face. A soft growl rumbled in his throat but the smile stayed. “Better?” he asked, looking down at her. “It’ll do.” She laughed, catching his gaze.
“Actually I missed a spot… lemme just…” she went up on tiptoes, leaning into the front grill of the van to reach the grease fleck that hung in his hair just above his ear. He bent forward, placed the beer can on the hood of the van, and slipped down the ground, sliding himself between her and the van grill.
He left a smudge on the side of her neck as his fingers worked their way to the back of her head
“Van really is broken, in case you’re wondering…” he said quietly.
“Guess it’s the will of the universe…” Her hands wound into his hair and she drew him in.