all my friends know the low rider (open)

[acuerdo]

CHARACTERS: Robbie Reyes and You
LOCATIONS: The Garage and Elsewhere in Town
WARNINGS: None at the moment but should that change, I will edit.
SUMMARY: An Open Catch All Log. Closed Starters in the Comments. If you would like a closed starter, or if you want to run something by me, as always, I'm available on plurk or discord (heatwave#1853)

[maybe you've seen the flyers up around town advertising the 19.95 cuddlebuck oil change special or heard the ecclectic mix of music from somewhere down the road. perhaps you need a new battery or maybe you're interested in some custom work — lights, exhaust, body work, or paint. whatever your reason for making your way to the garage today, you'll most likely find a shirtless robbie reyes with his head under the hood of some car. even though summer is quickly coming to a close, cadelle's warm weather hasn't let up, and the air conditioner is sadly out of commission.

maybe it's all that time spent with his roommate, but robbie's likely humming or quietly singing along as he's focused on diagnosing a problem. if he doesn't immediately notice your arrival, just give a shout. he'll be with you before long.

just... give him at minute to grab a rag and clean off his hands. no one wants a greasy handshake, right?]

Comments

[recoined]

Giving or receiving? ( because she's pretty sure she can convince him to touch her without ever needing to touch below his belt. but if it means she has to hold out entirely? they may need a different bet. ) And I mean actual dessert.

( not that he's not delicious in his own right, but it hardly seems fair to let him cheat his way out of a bet by giving her something she'd already get. )

What do you want, is the better question.

[acuerdo]

Both. [because if he's going to have to wait so will she or it's simply put not fair.] What's your favorite dessert, babe?

[as for what robbie wants, he has to actually think about it. kim's been amazing thus far when it comes to being game for what he's wanted to do, not that anything he's asked for has been in the extreme but there was always the possibility that she could say no.

he purses his lips in thought while he weighs his personal wish list before deciding on something that he hopes she's down for.]

Wear my jacket. Only my jacket. And get yourself off for me.

[recoined]

Rude... but fine. ( she's confident she can find a loophole or two. as for her favorite (literal) dessert... ) And it's creme brulee, actually.

( it's sort of silly, she knows, to like such a fussy dessert as her favorite, but there's just something about it. the satisfaction of cracking the firm sugar top, the contrast of that crunch with the smooth custard... it isn't something you can get just anywhere, either. definitely not at a bowling alley, that was for sure.

which was also not the place she'd expected him to make that kind of request. the surprise has her quiet for a moment, thinking over his request while she sits down in front of the scoreboard and watches him take his own shot. they're pretty evenly matched in terms of score, likely a benefit of those bumper rails, and it's not exactly as obvious as she thought it may have been who will actually take home the win.

not that she's opposed to what he's asking. no, the idea definitely has its merits. )

I could do that. ( but, to be fair, ) You don't have to win a bet to ask, though.

[acuerdo]

[he isn't sure what he was expecting her to say, but creme brulee definitely wasn't it. nor is it something that they can get here, so dinner (somewhere other than at the alley) and dessert are beginning to seem like a must do. ] Pretty sure the closest you'll get to crunchy with sugar on top you'll get here is a churro. I like cake. Doesn't matter the flavor.

[the conversation goes on pause as he finishes his frame with a pretty solid 8 pins. they're just about neck and neck and he's not sure that he'll win, but her comment makes him think that he doesn't mind th idea of losing so much.]
In my office though? Like say right before your zumba class?

[recoined]

( he has a way of pushing her limits, making her question what she's comfortable with and what she likes with a single sentence or even just a look in his eyes. wearing his jacket was one thing. letting him watch was another. the latter was sure to make her feel a little more on display, just by the nature of it, but kimberly had never been particularly shy about her body or what she was capable of doing with it.

but his office was another thing altogether. if she closed her eyes for a moment, she could picture the big window facing out towards the shop floor, only barely obscured by blinds that let in plenty of light. there'd be no subtle way to make that happen. whoever was on mechanic duty that day would have a hell of a view.

so perhaps her delay in response is a little more understandable, even if she doesn't exactly say why. ) I'd probably miss my class...

What about after? We could go for a drive, find that spot by the mountains again? ( as if to sweeten the deal, she adds, ) Maybe make a night of it?

[acuerdo]

You probably would. Is that a terribly disappointing idea?

[he's not displeased by the suggestion of going driving and finding that secluded location they'd visited just after the earthquake. robbie gives her hand a squeeze after making a show of thinking about it. ] A night with you in my car again? Sounds pretty sweet.

[recoined]

Good, ( is her only response, a warm smile a clear indication of how pleased she is at his agreement. they'll have a good time. there's no question of that, really. they always do, curled up together in small spaces, taking advantage of free time in the easiest possible way. but this will be different, too, and she can't help but feel a little excited about that. a picnic dinner, blankets and pillows spread out on the back bench seat, soft sounds of the radio playing — a little more intimate this time, maybe.

she's under no delusion that the windows won't fog up while they're out there, but... it won't be the only thing happening, and the realization pulls those butterflies right back up into her belly, giddy and excited.

kimberly lets the discussion drop for the time being, choosing instead to focus on completing the rest of their frames; they trade off one after the other as quickly as the pins reset, eager competition driving them through until the last frames complete. at the end of it, their scores are split, barely a few pins between them. it hardly feels fair to call it one way or the other.

from the bench, peering up at him from where she's bent over to untie her shoes, she offers, ) Call it a draw?

[acuerdo]

[as things tend to be with them in many other venues, they're quite evenly matched. the scores are close. there's no landslide victory. he watches kim begin the much welcome process of removing their bowling shoes and follows suit.

he's slipping on his well-worn skate shoes when he finally offers a reply.]

Yeah. Let's turn in the shoes and look for some creme brulee for you.