Work Text:
“Mate. Decathlon?” Geraint asked, pulling a pair of beers from his fridge.
Luke grabbed one of the bottles from Geraint’s hand and popped the cap off using the bottle opener G had mounted to the wall. “I know mate. Ineos wasn't hiring.”
“You couldn't have joined the guys on Eurosport or sumthin? Do you even speak French?”
“Nope,” said Luke, taking a swig of his beer. “But I got bills to pay. We can't all be Cav.”
“Shame, innit?” Geraint replied, popping open his beer and eying his fridge as though he were pondering grabbing a second round already. “You gonna be working with O’Connor?”
Luke shook his head. “He's moving to Jayco, mate. Nah, I'm not working with anybody in particular. Just learning the ropes, you know, getting used to the new role.”
“Jayco? Pfwah, I can't keep up with everybody moving these days. I'd be lost trying to do the pod without you.” Geraint paused. “You are still gonna do the pod, right?”
Luke set his beer down on the counter in indignation. “Mate. Of course I'll still do the pod.”
Geraint sighed. “I'm gonna miss you, mate.”
“I'm gonna miss you too, G.” Luke grabbed his beer back off the counter and downed it. “Don't get too close to DePluski while I'm gone,” he said, before planting a firm kiss on Geraint’s lips.