80'S FREAK SHOW

Unlike Driver, Holland didn’t put much thought into maintaining his car. It was a far nicer car than anything else he’d ever owned, but he got it once he worked as a PI. He had gotten it at a reduced price from a car dealer he’d done a job for, and combined with the incredibly lucrative payout he got from discovering the man’s wife had been cheating, it was hard to say no. Holly actually seemed to like his car most days, said it gave her some bragging rights at school that her dad drove a nice car (she then played the very masterful game of dodging questions regarding his job). Whenever it needed repairs, Holland would go to a garage and stare blankly at the mechanics as they tried to explain what had gone wrong. Holland usually prided himself on being more clever than he looked, but when it came to cars? Holland March truly was clueless and could do little more than nod and hand over whatever was due. Driver becoming a part of Holland’s life meant no more trips to those garages, and almost every repair was done at home.

Driver could tell if something was wrong with Holland’s car like it was a sixth sense, his fingers smoothing over the dashboard sometimes as he murmured to Holland that he would work on the car once they were back at the house. Today was one of those days, Holland flipping through crumpled bills in his hand as Driver tapped the wheel. “...The ignition was off earlier. I’ll fix it when we get home,” Driver explained, Holland turning with slightly wide eyes as his cigarette dangled from his lips. “Okay, how do you actually do that? The car’s been running fine, how-” “You can just tell after a while,” Driver cut off, smiling over at Holland as he turned the corner. That little smile was enough to make Holland’s cheeks flush with color and forget his complaints, Holland finishing his cigarette before tossing it out of the window and focusing on the houses that passed them by.

Once the car pulled into the driveway, Holland squeezed Driver’s arm with a smile. “I’ll be inside working on dinner for us and Holly. If you need me, just give a shout. Or like- knock on the window. Somethin like that.” Holland explained, Driver offering a sweet smile as Holland kissed his cheek and went inside. Driver went over to the garage and tugged the door up with a soft grunt, his expression easing at the familiar environment. Driver moved around the space with ease, grabbing the toolbox and dolly from the corner and dragging them out towards the car. It made Driver just a bit jealous that Holland could afford a car like this, although Holland’s explanation of where the car came from made it a little easier to understand how he could get it. Although Driver was pretty much the only person who used the car at this point, so he supposed it all worked out in the end.

Driver was elbow deep under the car hood when he heard Holland’s voice next to him. “Doll, dinner is going to get cold. Which I don’t recommend trying; I don’t think there is a single world that makes cold meatloaf even remotely appealing.” Holland explained, smiling lazily when he got Driver to pop his head out from inside the car and saw the way his eyes crinkled with a smile. Driver’s smile was damn near contagious lately, showing itself whenever they were off the clock, and Holland thought it was maybe the closest he’s ever had to a spiritual awakening. Driver hummed before he motioned to the hood of the car. “My hands are all dirty… and I’m not done.” Driver explained, his hand waving lazily towards the toolbox as he looked back inside the engine. “Just gotta replace the spark plug, and then test the ignition to make sure we’re done here.” Driver murmured, and Holland stepped closer without hesitating to pick up the small toolbox. “Well- why don’t I pass you whatever doodads you need so you can wrap this up faster?” Holland offered, rolling his eyes a bit when he saw Driver fix him with a skeptical stare for his ability to help. “Come on, it’s really difficult for me to screw up passing you things. I’m- I mean I’m not even putting them in the damn car!” Holland argued, smiling triumphantly when Driver slumped in defeat and leaned over the hood of the car again. “...Pass me the spark plug,” Driver asked, turning and pointing a finger to the box at the bottom of the toolbox to help guide Holland’s attention there. Driver found it actually nice to have Holland next to him while he finished these repairs. Holland chattered on like he usually did, making his observations about the car, about the news he read in the paper or heard on the radio, boasting about Holly’s latest test score for math (Driver did not approve of the idea that Holly would become their personal accountant, considering she was still thirteen). Holland’s chattering didn’t distract Driver from doing what he was supposed to, fingers expertly twisting the socket to tighten the new spark plug in place and carefully inspecting every other component to make sure they were right. Driver pulled back after a few more minutes, grabbing the rag he’d tossed haphazardly over the windshield and using it on his hands. “Let’s test it,” Driver offered quietly, interrupting Holland’s latest tangent as he slid into the front seat. Holland hopped into the passenger seat, watching Driver intently as he turned the keys in the ignition and listened to the car. It never failed to fascinate Holland, how much understanding Driver could have just from the sensation of the engine vibrating in his bones. “Well? Did we- you, I mean- do a good job? I mean you usually do, hard to think of a time you didn’t,” Holland asked, a satisfied grin blooming when he saw Driver nod and turn the engine off.

Holland led the way for them to go back in the house, his hand casually draped around Driver’s waist as they got to the front door. “Dinner should still be semi-warm, but I can heat it up again.” Holland offered as he pulled the door open and kicked it shut, Driver nodding as he removed his shoes. “I can also help,” Driver offered, only for Holland to shoo him over to the table with a huff. “No, nope, my turn to do something useful around this place. Which, for the record, I actually am a decent cook, so you keep that sweet ass of yours in the chair while I heat this up.” Holland ordered, Driver smiling as he admitted defeat with a small nod of his head. Holland let out a small hum at the minor act of submission, turning back to the stove. “But, if you do want to be helpful later… I won’t protest you bending over the sink to wash the dishes,” Holland offered with a smirk, slightly smug at the pink tint that dusted Driver’s cheeks from the blatant flirting. “Ew!” Holly shouted from the living room, scowling at her dad as she covered her ears with her hands. “Do your flirting and stuff when I’m not around to hear it,” Holly complained, which set Holland off onto his usual dad lecture about not saying “and stuff” and that Holly wasn’t a baby, that he could flirt with Driver if he wanted-