Rating: PG-13 (for an occasional cuss word)
Summary: After 2 Fast 2 Furious, Dominic goes to reclaim Brian, and finds out that Brian may already belong to someone.
Warnings: Slash overtones, actual slash in later chapters; also, OOC-ness for Roman and possibly Brian.
Roman Pearce yawned and stretched largely. His thick frame was scantly covered; he had worn just boxers to bed the night before.
His room, painted a dark green to keep the room cool, was the one closest to the bathroom, which was a good thing because Roman had to go to the bathroom. Now.
The white boy curled up next to him was going to make getting out of bed difficult.
Roman prodded Brian's shoulder.
"Bri, wake up!" he hissed, shifting to a sitting position. Brian opened one blue eye, yawned, and went back to sleep.
"Brian! I have to piss, man!" Roman said desperately. Brian gave him a long- suffering sigh and sat up so that Roman could get out.
Roman took off for the bathroom as fast as his Spyder would take off in a race. Brian snickered.
"I heard that!" Roman tossed over his shoulder before he slammed the bathroom door.
"I know," Brian answered with a shrug. He ran a hand through his short blonde hair, which stuck up at odd angles, and made his way back to his own room so that he could get dressed.
Somehow, Brian always ended up in Roman's bed. They never did anything (they weren't involved) but for as long as Brian could remember, he had always been in someone else's bed.
It used to confuse his mother. Whenever he was at Roman's house, he slept in the same bed; whenever he was at home, he slept on the couch. It was as if he didn't want to sleep in a bed if there wasn't anyone else in it with him.
Brian supposed that was why; it had never bothered him (or Roman) so he hadn't thought about it.
Ten minutes later, Roman came out of his room, dressed and ready to work in the garage.
"Damn, Bri, you hungry?" Roman asked incredulously. Brian shrugged and finished off his three eggs. He had made some for Roman, too; scrambled, because those were the only kind that Brian could make without burning them.
Brian was usually only hungry in the morning; during the rest of the day, he could just have liquids and he was fine. Roman had declared him a borderline anorexic a long time ago.
"You ready to go, Brian?" Roman called up the steps. Brian followed him out, locking the door behind him, and they hurried to the garage.
Matt, their one hired guy, was already there. He just smirked at them when they pulled up; they were always late.
"What do we got today?" Brian asked him, ignoring the smirk.
"Nothin' yet, man," Matt answered, "It's a holiday, though; most people are at home sleeping!"
That was right. It was the Fourth of July today; why hadn't he thought of that?
"Do you want to go on home, Matt? We probably won't get much business today." Roman said to Matt, who shook his head no and continued to read the paper. Brian looked at Roman, shrugged, and went into the garage.
Dominic Toretto's Charger sat under an ugly brown tarp. Brian had been working on it, but he hadn't gotten to far; the parts were hard to find, and he was kept busy with all of the people who came to their garage.
"You wanna work on it today, man?" Roman asked, nodding towards the car. Brian considered it, but shook his head.
"Not today." That car brought back memories that Brian didn't want to deal with. Roman shrugged and started to clean up the garage.
Roman himself knew about Dominic; Brian had explaining it to him over dinner and all three Scream movies. Roman had snickered, told Brian that he had it bad, and went back to the movie. Dominic had never been mentioned again because, as Brian had told Roman, he had moved on.
Matt came in to help them clean up, and asked them if they were planning on racing anytime soon. Brian said no, because as much as he loved it, the cops were probably just waiting to come down on him and Roman.
Ten minutes later, an old lady with an -older-than-dirt car came in. She wanted her brakes changed. Brian had a hard time telling her that she might just want to get a newer car.
They started working on the brakes, talking and exchanging the occasional insult. They worked well together, and sometimes Matt felt a little jealous because he did not have someone who was as close to him as Roman was to Brian.
All three of them were shocked as hell when they turned to see a six-foot- tall Mexican man standing there, arms crossed over his chest, brown eyes blazing.