Work Text:
When Natasha dropped Mickey off at the body shop, he wasn’t expecting this. His white truck now sported a new yellow hood. The mechanic wanders over to him, wiping oil off his hands.
“Here to pick up?” The man says. Mickey doesn’t hear him at first because what the hell is this? The mechanic clears his throat, and that gets Mickey’s attention. “Are you here to pick up your vehicle?” He questions again. “Huh? Oh yeah, I am,” Mickey nods, pointing to his newly fixed truck. The one that looks out of place with the hood being a different color. The mechanic steps away to get Mickey’s paperwork. When he returns, papers in hand, it’s time for Mickey to start asking the questions.
“So, uh, what’s the deal with the hood being yellow?”
“Oh, yeah ‘bout that. Unfortunately, we didn’t have any white hoods available. So, we had to make do with what we had.” The older man replies, scratching his head.
Mickey nods but doesn’t quite understand why they wouldn't have him wait a few more days. He’d have been fine with that. So, he says as much. “Could’ve just called me and said it’d be a few more days. Now my truck looks all weird.” The mechanic only shakes his head before responding. “Sorry, we’ve been backed up for a while now and just wanna get through these fixes. And we’ve been having supply chain issues, so that you could’ve been waiting several more months.” Well, Mickey supposes he can’t argue with that.
He takes the paperwork, and the mechanic shows him all the important details. After that’s taken care of, Mickey gets his keys back. “Thanks again!” He states to the mechanic, throwing up a hand in a friendly gesture. The man does it back at him, and Mickey starts up the engine and drives away.
When he gets home, he hops onto his laptop and opens Facebook. He begins to type up a post, writing that he’s looking for a white-colored hood. Because, like hell, is he going to go around driving a mismatched truck. He includes a picture of his truck for good measure. He hits the publish button and shuts the lid of his laptop, setting it down on the coffee table.
It’s surprising how quickly it takes until someone reaches out to him. The man, whose profile says his name is Reuben Fitch, replied to Mickey’s post with a simple image. The Image was what he assumed to be the man’s truck: a gaudy yellow with a white hood. The same yellow that Mickey’s current hood was. The curly-haired man types up a response immediately, saying they should trade ASAP. A few minutes later, he receives a DM from Reuben:
REUBEN FITCH: hey! I’m the guy with your matching hood. Where do you wanna meet?
MICKEY GARCIA: How about this gas station?
REUBEN FITCH: Sounds good to me; see ya in a bit.
Mickey reacts to the message with a thumbs-up emoji and grabs his keys. It turns out that Reuben got there first because as soon as Mickey pulled into the gas station, he saw Reuben’s car instantly. Not that it’s hard to miss, but that ugly yellow can be seen from a mile away. He’ll be glad when it’s off his truck.
He moves his vehicle into the spot next to Reuben’s and shuts off the engine. He exits the truck and walks over to where a man is standing close by. “Hey there, are you Reuben?” Upon hearing his name, the man turns around, and Mickey has to school his face into a normal state to not betray his feelings. Because this man is probably one of, if not the most, beautiful men he’s ever had the pleasure of gazing his brown eyes upon. Reuben smiles, all bright and shiny, and Mickey thinks this man is going to give him a heart attack.
“The one and only! I assume you’re Mickey, then?” Reuben’s eyes are warm and inviting, and Mickey stares into them dumbly for a few seconds. “Uh, yeah, that’s me” He clears his throat and sticks a hand out for Reuben to shake because that’s the polite thing to do. Reuben takes Mickey’s hand in a firm grip and gives a hearty shake. Why is his skin so soft? Before snapping out of his haze, Mickey is about to ask him what type of moisturizer he uses. They were here for one thing and one thing only, swapping hoods. He probably wouldn’t see Reuben ever again. He tries not to think about how sad that makes him feel, which is weird. He literally just met the man in front of him. Why should he feel upset? Mickey is pulled from his thoughts as Reuben’s voice enters his ears.
“Ready to get down to business, then?” The taller man says. Yeah, they should get on that. It was already pretty late, and Mickey was just standing there like a knot on a log. In his defense, however, it wasn’t his fault that the man in front of him was so stunning. “Oh, yeah, ‘course. I’ll go get my tool kit.” Mickey finally replies after what seems like minutes have passed.
He wanders to the bed of his truck and drags out the tool kit that’s always back there. He brings it back over to where Reuben is and sets it down. He opens the equipment up before realizing he doesn’t actually know what he’s looking for. Mickey stares blankly at the tools in front of him before standing back up. “Y’know, I’ve never actually done this before,” He states, glancing at Reuben. “Yeah, me neither. I looked up a Youtube video on it once, though, so maybe that’ll come in handy.”
Reuben takes the phone out of his pocket and taps away at the screen for several moments. He steps closer to Mickey so the shorter man can also watch the video. A shiver crawls up Mickey’s spine as he feels the heat radiating off Reuben’s skin. Once the video is finished, the duo believes they’re ready to get to work swapping the hoods.
“Which one should we do first?” Reuben inquires.
“Doesn’t really matter much to me, just as long as I get that monstrosity off my truck” Mickey laughs, and Reuben gently shoves his shoulder. Mickey can see Reuben holding his chuckles, a smile tugging at his lips. “What? C’mon, you gotta admit that’s an ugly yellow man.”
“Maybe, but it’s mine, and only I can make jokes at its expense.” Eventually, a few laughs escape the taller man’s lips, and he shakes his head. “Okay, fair enough. Now let’s get to work. I have a Star Trek movie to watch later, and I don’t wanna be here all night.” Mickey concedes, going back to his toolbox.
“Star Trek, huh? I’m more of a Star Wars man myself.” Reuben states matter of factly, grabbing the ratchet wrench they’ll need.
“Yeah, you look like a Star Wars fan,” Mickey says and opens the hood of his truck.
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you wouldn't know true cinema even if it slapped you in the face,” Mickey jokes, working at one of the bolts attaching the hood to the truck. A quiet gasp comes out of Reuben’s mouth, and he pretends to be hurt. “You wound me, Mickey,” The taller man utters, shaking his head disappointedly. “Plus, I haven’t even mentioned any other movies I Like. How do you know I’m not a cultured man like yourself?” Mickey shrugs, successfully removing one of the bolts. He places it in his pocket for safekeeping.
“Well, we’d have to see about that.” The curly-haired man remarks. While speaking, Reuben extracts the other bolt from his side of the hood, handing it to Mickey.
“And how do you suggest we do that?” Reuben proposes, lifting one side of the metal cover. Mickey lifts the other side, and together they place the hood onto the ground. Halfway there! Mickey brings his hand up to his mouth, thinking. “We could go back to my place, and I could show you”
“That sounds awfully suggestive for a man I just met.” The taller man deadpans. Mickey’s face goes beet red, and he starts to splutter. “Wha- that is not what I meant, and you know it!” It’s Reuben’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “Yeah, but you should’ve seen the look on your face. Hilarious!” He flashes another smile at Mickey, and it’s good that he’s already red in the face. Reuben looks back at his truck and says, “Okay, but in all seriousness, we need to get this done.” Mickey nods his head in agreement and walks over to the yellow vehicle.
The process doesn’t take as long the second time, the pair working in relative silence. Once they get Reuben’s hood off, they place Mickey’s old one onto the space and vice versa. Before they know it, they’re done and wiping their hands clean.
“Here, give me your phone,” Reuben comments, reaching out to Mickey.
“Why?”
“Just give it to me; I promise it’s nothing bad” Mickey sighs, grabs his phone out of his pocket, and unlocks it, relinquishing it to the other man. Reuben quickly types something into it before it’s in Mickey’s hands again.
With that, Reuben winks, walks to his car, and drives away before Mickey can say anything. Confusion spreads over his features as he’s left there. He looks down at the phone in his hand and sees that Reuben has entered himself as a contact on Mickey’s phone. He smiles as another blush diffuses over his cheeks.
Maybe that wasn’t the last he’ll see of Reuben Fitch.