Work Text:
The first thing that Vince notices is that it’s cold.
Really fucking cold.
He steps outside onto the stoop of his apartment and blows warm air into his hands, rubbing them together. It’s 3:30 in the morning and it should be pitch black out, except it’s never really dark in the city, not with the lights that line the road, the headlights of cars as they dodge potholes. Vince looks up and down the street, bouncing on his toes to keep warm, looking for the white van that Bon Appétit always sends to pick up him and Brad on the way to the airport. Brad is annoyingly punctual, no matter the time (“early bird gets the worm, Vinny!”), whereas Vince needs at least three snoozes on his alarm before he can even think about dragging himself out of bed. But this morning he promised himself he’d be on time. Even if that meant forgoing his much, much needed coffee. His body aches for the caffeine and the warmth, but he can wait until they get to the airport. The look on Brad’s face when he sees that Vince is on time is more than worth it.
He’s looking up at the sky, searching for stars that are hidden by the lights of the city, watching as his breath puffs up into smoke, when he hears a car rumbling down the street. Vince checks to see that, yes, finally, the white van is here to pick him up. He walks off of his stoop and down to the curb, his boots crunching on the ice, just as the van rolls up. Vince flings the sliding door open, Brad’s huge smile lighting up the van.
“Vinny, I can’t believe it! You’re on time, bud!” Brad exclaims, turning so his entire body faces Vince, no sense of being quiet so early in the morning.
“Hey, Brad,” Vince replies, tossing his backpack in the row of seats behind them. (He no longer packs a carryon, a technique he learned from Brad. “Here’s what I do, Vin. I take only the essentials, okay bud? You bring a t-shirt, you bring a couple a shorts, maybe a toothbrush. Bingo bango, you’re good to go.”)
“How much do you love me, Vin?” Brad asks, fumbling with something between his feet, as the van pulls away from the curb and starts the drive to the airport. It should be quick this time of night (morning?) and Vince cannot wait to get out of this cold winter weather.
“Uh, a regular amount?” Vince answers, unsure of where Brad is going with this. To be fair, Vince is often unsure of where Brad is going with any number of things.
“Wrong answer, bud,” Brad says as he finally sits back up, apparently done fiddling around between his feet. He’s got two cups of coffee, one in each hand, and it’s the good kind. Not Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks, but the specialty coffee Brad found at a local shop when they were filming in Austin. (It was 6am when his phone rang, the sound vibrating loudly against the hotel walls. Their flight didn’t leave until noon, and Vince was more than ready to silence the call. He cracked his eye open and saw Brad’s name displayed across the screen. “Vin, babe, you gotta get down to this coffee shop I found! It’s got this super eclectic vibe that I think you’d totally dig. And their coffee, Vin? Wooo buddy it’s good. Ya gotta come check it out!”) He gets a case shipped in every couple of months and Vince feels his body immediately perk up, his hand reaching out almost immediately.
“Aw man, you’re the best,” Vince says as he takes a long sip, the coffee still a little too hot in Brad’s expensive travel mug (“Ya see, Vinny, sometimes ya gotta splurge on the important stuff, ya know? And what’s more important than a hot cup of coffee? Not too much, Vin. Not too much.”). It’s made exactly right, one sugar and a splash of milk, and Vince wonders when Brad learned his coffee order.
“No problemo, bud. Happy to do it,” Brad says, his smile wide, bumping their shoulders together. Vince feels the smile tugging at his lips, he can’t even help it, not when he’s around Brad. He’s so warm and open and inviting, positivity and happiness radiating out of him. It’s contagious, that’s really the only way Vince can describe it.
“Hey, try not to fall asleep on my shoulder this time, okay?” Vince jokes, elbowing Brad in the side. It had been on their flight back from Hawaii, long days filming and jet lag kicking their asses. Brad had nodded off somewhere over Nevada on the flight home, his head bobbing side to side until it finally landed on Vince’s shoulder. Vince spent the rest of the flight trying to place Brad’s cologne (pine? Cedar?) and didn’t wake him until the captain announced their descent into New York. (“Aw, sorry, bud. Think I got a little bit of drool on your shoulder there. But what’s a little saliva between two buddies like us, ain’t that right, Vin?”)
Brad scoffs, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. “You fall asleep on your buddy’s shoulder one time and he never lets you forget it! Ya know, Vinny, I’d let you sleep on me whenever you wanted. That’s just the kinda guy I am.” Brad takes one final sip from his coffee and taps his shoulder. “See? You wanna catch a quick nap before we get to the airport? Be my guest. These shoulders were made for snoozin’.”
Vince’s immediate instinct is to drop his head down onto Brad’s shoulder and close his eyes, but the airport isn’t that far and Vince can’t quite tell if Brad is joking. “Maybe on the plane.”
“Fine, bud. Suit yourself,” Brad says, slouching down a bit in his seat, almost as if to make his shoulder more inviting for Vince to lay his head on.
They drive in silence for a bit, both of them scrolling through their phones. Vince can finally feel the warm air from the front of the van finally making its way into the back where they are. Brad lets out a chuckle every now and then as he scrolls, his thumb double tapping on his screen. Vince catches it all out of the corner of his eye; when Brad tugs down on his knit hat, when his finger taps out a beat on his thigh, when he starts bouncing his toes on the floor of the van.
They’re almost to the airport, another 10 minutes at most, when Vince decides to go for it. He slips his phone into his pocket and then drops his head onto Brad’s shoulder, closing his eyes and taking in a slow, deep breath. Brad is warm and Vince feels his entire body instantly relax. Brad doesn’t even flinch, just continues to tap out a tune on his thigh, but Vince can feel it when Brad smiles.
Vince takes another deep breath.
Cedar. Definitely cedar.