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Chapter Text

jordan dunkley

pop dunkley

imani dunkley

Chapter Text

Jordan Dunkley was a street racer, and a damn good one at that. With every good racer must come only a couple of felonies. It seemed as though his felonies caught up with him when he was approached by two FBI agents one day in his dad's shop that he worked in. It was only him and his dad that worked at the shop, and they barely got anyone that wasn't a racer or some low-rider douche that Pop Dunkley knew from back in high school, so it was pretty obvious that something was wrong when two older men showed up to the shop that neither Jordan nor Pop recognized. The Dunkley's were pleasantly surprised when the agents said they weren't there to arrest Jordan or Pop, just that they wanted to talk to Jordan for a case they had coming up. Jordan didn't go right away, but he accepted once they said they could pardon him of the felonies that he and Pop both committed. Turns out Pop was pretty good at boosting cars himself.

In the car ride to the FBI's hideout in Los Angeles, the agents filled Jordan in one what they were hiring him for and what the conditions would be. Supposedly Jordan was hired to teach some agent how to be a street racer so he could infiltrate team Toretto. Jordan told them that would be a bad idea because when Dom would find out, he would murder the agent and then Jordan himself if he found out Jordan was involved. The agents didn't appreciate that as they stayed silent the rest of the drive.

When they pulled up the house the FBI hid out in, Jordan hid his awe as he looked up at the house. It was a beautiful house, but he wasn't going to give the police that as he followed the two agents into the gorgeous house. The agents broke off from each other and Jordan followed one of them to a room full of desks, the living room.

"This is the agent you will be teaching," the agent said, whose name Jordan didn't care to learn, as he brought Jordan to a desk that a blonde sat at. Jordan followed the agent with a bored look, like he really did not want to be there. He looked at the agent that sat down. Jordan wouldn't lie, the agent was nice on the eyes. "This is Agent Brian O'Conner. O'Conner, this is the racer you'll be learning from, Jordan Dunkley," the agent introduced him, gesturing over at Jordan.

"Hey," Jordan said, keeping his arms crossed as he didn't do handshakes with cops, maybe a dap up if the agent offered. Jordan toyed with his mechanic uniform shirt that he and his dad both had. He had dark blue jeans on with dirty white Puma shoes. He looked Brian O'Conner up and down, analyzing him to see if he could see the blonde in a racing car. He wasn't sure if this was going to be a good idea.

Brian looked at Jordan with a small and polite smile, leaning back in his chair slightly with his hands behind his head. He stared back at Jordan, not in a judgmental way, but more so just taking everything in about Jordan Dunkley. He raised a brow, intrigued by the mechanical shirt that had Jordan's name plastered on it right by his heart. Brian got out of his chair and walked up to Jordan, offering his hand as a handshake, saying, "Agent Brian O'Conner, it's a pleasure."

"Yeah, no thanks," Jordan said, looking at Brian with a judging eye. He raised a brow and sighed. He looked towards the agent that brought him in, "This isn't going to work if he goes for handshakes. Not many racers go for a handshake, not even to strangers." For being a racer, Jordan was a good analyst. How did he know Brian was going to go for a handshake and not a dap? He continued to look at Brian with a judging eye, trying to figure him out some more.

Brian laughed; he was taken aback by the sassiness from the man that he didn't even know. When Agent Ide, the man who continued to look back and forth between Brian and Jordan, and Agent Weber, the man who broke off from Jordan and Ide and the front door, left the house earlier this morning, Brian forced one of the younger agents to tell him what was going on. He spilled the beans about them finding some racer to train Brian. Brian was a little pissed that they went behind his back, but he didn't care once they got back and he realized the guy wasn't that bad looking.

Brian was intrigued by the attitude Jordan had. He pulled his hand back and ran it through his blonde curls instead of shaking Jordan's hand. "You're interesting," Brian said, looking Jordan up and down as he was analyzing the way he stood and acted. He reminded Brian of him when he was younger. "How old are you?" Brian asked, knowing for sure that Jordan was too young to be a street racer, he had quite a baby face.

"What does it matter?" Jordan asked, keeping his arms crossed as if to keep Brian away from him. He turned his body towards Brian, who seemed too comfortable in his white shirt and grey joggers to be an agent, though. Jordan knew there was some secret hiding in Brian and he was going to figure that out. No guy is that good looking to go straight to the police academy, there had to be something before, something in Brian's past to trigger him.

Brian raised a brow, laughing slightly. The same smirk played on his lips. He leaned forward a bit before stepping back and falling into his chair. He said, "It doesn't, not really. You just look too young to be a street racer, and for me to be attracted to you. If you are underage, just pretend I never said that." Jordan raised a brow at the blonde, pleasantly confused with him.

"You're already getting on my nerves and confusing me," Jordan said. Of course he wasn't underage, but he wasn't going to fall victim to Brian's trap to loosen up so quickly. Jordan wasn't getting paid to like Brian, he was getting paid to train Brian, to teach Brian how to be like him basically.

"This isn't going to be a problem, is it?" Agent Ide asked, looking between the two. Ide was one of the newer agents that got thrown into a leadership role way too quickly, Brian didn't like him all that much. Both Jordan and Brian shot looks at Ide, causing him to straighten up slightly. "I'll leave you two alone," Ide said, quickly leaving. After Ide left, it was just Jordan and Brian at the blonde's desk. The living room was empty as the other agents had left to get lunch as it was getting to that time, Jordan could tell by the way his stomach yearned for some food.

Brian watched Ide walk away, keeping an eye on him until his disappeared from sight before looking back to Jordan. His hands were now resting on his lap, running over his thighs as he looked up at Jordan. "So, why are you being a dickhead?" Brian asked, not waiting for Jordan to respond before talking again, "I haven't done anything but ask you for your age and you're acting like your mother sent you to summer camp and I'm you counselor." Brian laughed lightly, not really taking anything Jordan said as a threat, insult, or a reason to leave the conversation. He just wanted to get the introductions out of the way, which included Jordan's age.

"Never had to go through that," Jordan said, talking about having being sent to summer camp, "Ma didn't hate me that much." He smiled bitterly as he leaned against Brian's desk. Brian looked up at him from his spot in his desk chair. Jordan looked down at him, giving in just a little bit as he took in Brian's bright blue eyes that perfectly contrasted with his dirty blonde hair that lightened at the tips. Frosted tips, Jordan chuckled to himself. "I'm 22," Jordan said, crossing his legs slightly to stand comfortably.

Brian felt a little better knowing that Jordan wasn't underage, but it dawned on him that Jordan knew that he was attracted to him. Oh well. When Jordan crossed his legs, Brian noticed something about Jordan's build that he didn't notice before. Jordan was muscular, there was some definition to his biceps. It was clear that Jordan was pretty athletic, which was an advantage with street racing, Brian figured. Brian couldn't help but eye Jordan, it was obvious that he was trying to play it cool, but it was hard to hide the fact that he was checking Jordan out. Maybe he should keep his eyes to himself.

"You wanna take a picture for your wallet?" Jordan asked with a smirk. He noticed Brian's staring a while ago, it was hard not to as Jordan stared at the bright blue eyes that stared into his soul. Sure, he was checking Brian out too, but he loved calling people out on checking him out. Jordan was pretty athletic from his days of running from the cops and working on cars, but he was no Dominic Toretto.

The blonde laughed at Jordan. He liked this guy, that was pretty obvious. Maybe he should actually try to get to know Jordan instead of just taking a look every few seconds. Brian shook his head with another laugh, "Maybe later. I have a good enough image of you in my head." Once the words left his mouth, Brian realized that his words sounded a bit suggestive, but he still had a smile plastered on his face as he looked up at Jordan.

"Are you memorizing my amazingly good looks for your alone time later?" Jordan asked with a teasing smile, looking down at Brian who leaned back more in his chair, his hands tucked behind his head in a relaxed way. Maybe Jordan was just getting paid to teach Brian and liking him was an extra. If Brian got good at racing, Jordan could just think of the power duo he and Brian could be. They would be unstoppable.

Brian laughed and nodded his head, finding Jordan's boldness funny as well. He hadn't had a person talk to him like this for a while, and he enjoyed it. It was different than what he was used to know, but different was good. He kept his answer short and simple as he looked up at Jordan. "Something like that, yeah," he said, letting his feelings show through his blue eyes. He had a small smirk that played on his lips.

Jordan chuckled and shook his head as he looked away from Brian. Now, Jordan didn't look bored. He actually looked pretty entertained as he and Brian flirted with each other. Agent Bilkins and Sgt. Tanner looked on from the kitchen, hidden from Brian and Jordan's view. Both of them watched as the blonde and brunette laughed and smiled at each other, quickly warming up to each other.

"This a good idea?" Sarge asked Bilkins, hugging his arms close to his body.

"Do you see the way they're talking with each other? This is better than a good idea," Bilkins said, pointing at the duo with a black pen in his hand.

Both Brian and Jordan were unaware of the two agents that were watching them interact with each other. The way they flirted and teased each other happened so naturally. Brian was taken aback, he hadn't flirted with anyone that he actually really liked for a long time, it was usually girls that he had met at the bar and was looking for a good time. This felt amazing, a rush that gave him butterflies. Brian had a large smile on his face as he continued to talk with Jordan.

"So, Brian," Jordan said his name almost mockingly, "what do I needa school ya 'bout? Everythin' from the clothes to the drivin', or just the drivin'?" He asked, crossing his arms as he continued to lean against the desk. He raised a brow at the blonde, trying to figure out a good style for Brian, or a good car to throw him in. The FBI was probably going to gift him a tracked one, but if they did, Jordan tried to figure out a good style for it, what was going to become his signature color or car type.

The blonde chuckled slightly at the way Jordan said his name, he could hear the mocking tone clearly but he didn't care. The way Jordan looked with his arms crossed made him feel some type of way inside, but he continued to look up at Jordan with a small smile, "How about we start with the clothes? I know what I'm doing with the driving, but I know I could use a little bit more practice on the way I dress. It wouldn't hurt to get some tips from an expert."

"Ooh," Jordan smirked, "an expert?" He laughed at the blonde. "Ion know about that," when Jordan wasn't wearing his uniform, he was well dressed, he knew that, but he didn't know if he was an expert at fashion of what street racers usually wear. They did wear what people would call streetwear often, but Jordan didn't exactly know what that entailed. He just found clothes that he liked and threw them together.

Brian laughed with Jordan. He seemed more relaxed than earlier, as if nothing else mattered except him and Jordan in that room together. He wasn't sure how much effort Jordan put into what he wore, but what he saw when he went through Jordan's security cam footage looked impressive enough to call Jordan an expert. He sat up straighter in his chair and said, "Yeah, and expert, because I don't think just anyone could pull off the style you got."

Jordan figured that Brian had seen pictures of him or something because what he was wearing in this moment wasn't that special, it was just his work uniform. "Okay, pretty boy, whatever you say," Jordan chuckled as he looked down and shook his head. He hid the blush that creeped up on his face from the compliments that Brian threw at him. Jordan didn't get many compliments from people that he actually liked or weren't family and friends; he would get some thrown at him by random girls at his races that show off their entire body, but they wouldn't mean anything to him even if he was bringing them home to have some fun.

"How long have you been a racer?" Brian asked, changing the subject as he didn't know if Jordan had gotten embarrassed from his compliment or not. He couldn't get over the way Jordan looked though, he couldn't get over looking at him in general. This guy was attractive, and Brian knew he was just his type. He had a strong urge to lean back in his chair and stay quiet, but he wanted to keep their conversation going to just hear Jordan talk.

The brunette shrugged at Brian's question, looking back up once he realized his blush had gone away. "Don't really remember if I'm bein' honest. I've been 'round cars for as long as I can remember. My Pa and I work on cars in his shop together since I was young, but I don't really remember my first race or when I started to," Jordan smiled as he talked about the shop. He loved working with his dad and then walking up to the apartment above the shop, smelling an amazing dinner that his mom made when he walked through the door.

He was intrigued, Brian liked that Jordan started to open up a bit more about his childhood, even though had just met about 20 minutes ago. Hearing that he grew up around cars and worked with his dad in a shop touched something in Brian. He didn't remember his dad, there wasn't much to go off of, so he was sort of jealous of the relationship Jordan had with his dad. The blonde kept nodding as Jordan talked. "What do you like most about working with your dad?" Brian asked, wanting to hear more about the relationship, only so he could hear what he missed out on.

"It's just us working there," Jordan smiled fondly, "it's a family business that Pa started when he was younger with his dad. They named it after Pa, Pop's Shop. Ma works there too, she does all of the business-y stuff since she was the only one in my family to actually get a college education on scholarship. My Pa and I do the cars while Ma does the money. We live above the shop too, I haven't moved out yet, but I pay rent. I just can't find myself moving out of my childhood bedroom, it's all I know, you know?" Jordan didn't know why he was spilling his current thoughts to Brian. A couple of minutes ago, he didn't think that he could deal with Brian, but now he was talking about his parents and where he spends most of his time. Brian was doing something to Jordan and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

Before Brian or Jordan could say anything further, Agent Bilkins and Sargent Tanner interrupted them, saying how Jordan should go to get some good lunch as it was reaching one and the agents that left for break should be coming back soon. Jordan still had some work to do at the shop so he agreed and bid goodbye, stealing a glance at Brian before leaving with Agent Ide. The ride was silent as Ide drove him back to the shop where he picked him up. Once they arrived and Jordan slipped out the car, he said a quick, "Thank you," before shutting the door. Ide sped off.

"Pa?" Jordan yelled out into the shop once he made his way inside the open garage doors. Their shop was sat right on the corner of a popular block, that's why Jordan couldn't find himself to move out, it was the perfect spot to live. Many people in downtown Los Angeles actually went out of their way not to go to Pop's Shop because they knew that place was for racer's and racer's only.

"Skyline!" Pop Dunkley yelled back. Jordan's grazed over the cars they had in the shop before his eyes found a blue and silver Skyline, immediately making his way over. "How was bacon town?" Pop asked, not even glancing at his son as he worked under the hood of the blue Skyline. The Dunkley's weren't a big fan of cops and they weren't the only ones. They usually didn't run into the cops because they kept to themselves and were secretive about whatever they had going on, but they did have history with them.

"They wanted to hire me to train one of their agents," Jordan said, leaning against the hood of the car, looking in it with his dad. Nothing seemed wrong with it, but Jordan knew that was almost never the case. If you didn't notice something wrong with it right away, you need to dive deeper. His dad told him that one of his first times of working with him and he's never forgotten it.

"And?" Pop asked, standing up straight before leaning over and grabbing a blue rag to wipe his hands. They had reusable rags at Pop's Shop since they didn't believe in ruining the environment one paper towel at a time. Sure, cars were worse, but who was going to tell them that? "What'd you say?"

Jordan shrugged, "I said sure. I'm getting paid and we're getting pardoned, so I felt like I had no choice other than yes." Pop chuckled at that, smiling at his son. No matter what Jordan did, Pop would always be proud of his son. If he got arrested? Sure, he would be pissed, but he knew that it was probably over something that he enjoyed doing, racing. But, Jordan would never get caught so Pop knew he never had to deal with that.

Pop went to respond, but Jordan's grumbling stomach cut him off. He chuckled, swinging an arm over Jordan's shoulder as he dragged him with, "C'mon, let's get some food in that starvin' stomach. I heard your mama was makin' her classic tuna sandwiches." Jordan's face unconsciously grimaced, causing Pop to laugh heartily. It was known from when Jordan threw a tuna sandwich at Pop that Jordan hated tuna sandwiches and they promised never to make them again, but they never promised they would never joke about it again.

"You are a joker, real funny," Jordan deadpanned as Pop unhooked his arm from Jordan's shoulders. They walked up the stairs that were in the back of the office of Pop's Shop after shutting the garage doors. Jordan sighed in relief as he didn't smell tuna when he and Pop walked in the front door to their house. "Thank God," Jordan mumbled when he smelt mayo and chicken. Pop and Jordan made their way into the kitchen, both kissing Imani's cheeks before moving out of her way, knowing not to get in her way when she's cooking.

"What's on the menu today, Mani?" Pop asked, smiling at his wife as she cooked. Imani wasn't just the brains of the Pop's Shop operation, she was the cook. Sometimes she would bring food down to the shop when it was a busy day and give customers some over her tomato watermelon salad, it was one of their favorites. She also brought down macaroni salad or southern chicken salad, which she was making right now.

"Southern chicken salad, but I only made enough for us, no cats are getting into this one, Jordan," Imani forced that comment towards Jordan as he sat down on one of the bar chairs that was at their kitchen counter. He raised his hands in surrender. Once and awhile Jordan will feed the alleycats that found a home in the dumpster behind Pop's Shop. He felt bad for them and felt that they deserved a home too, and he could only get food for them sometimes.

"Sorry, Ma," Jordan apologized, "you know I gotta help sick and annoying things, that's why I help Pa in the shop." A hand flew at Jordan's shoulder, which Imani quickly brought down with a point of a wooden spoon.

"No fightin' in my kitchen!" She warned, going back to stirring up the chicken and mayo. Soon enough, Imani had finished the salad and the Dunkley's were going to town, eating up every bit of the salad, leaving none behind. 

This was home to Jordan, he couldn't imagine leaving this behind.