Work Text:
“Ay, waddup, Kevin?”
Kevin freezes, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. There’s no way. There is no fucking way.
He turns stiffly towards the figure in the passenger seat. Of course it’s an animal mask–he’d never been able to break the habit.
“What’s going on,” Kevin asks, voice wavering. His chest feels tight with anticipation, and hope rises in the back of his throat.
The figure reaches out to cover Kevin’s hand with his own. He’s wearing gloves. To hide the tattoo, Kevin knows.
“I found you,” Yung Dab says, and Kevin can hear the grin in his voice.