Breathless - The Garage
by elfin
Breathless, Brian tried to think, quick and straight. Now he was
here, now it was happening, he couldn't go through with it, not with a
lie on his lips.
"Dom... there's something you need to know."
The low rumble of a chuckle reverberated against Brian's throat as he
ran his palm over the sandpaper-rough scalp, biting back the desire to
purr.
"Hard as nails here, Bri."
"Yeah, well..." he muttered softly, "this'll cool you down a notch."
Dom lifted his head, sliding his hands around to Brian's hips.
Taking a deep breath, Brian tore his hands from the other man, reaching
back to grab the edge of the workbench his ass was up against.
Glancing at the now suspicious expression on Dom's face and then away,
he said, "I'm a cop."
Dom's first reaction was amusement. "Stop." But the smile
faded slowly. "You are kidding, right?"
Brian shook his head once and Dom stepped back, hands falling to his
sides, curling almost automatically into hard fists. Here was
danger.
"I've been undercover since the first time I laid eyes on you at the
store."
"Oh, no.... No! Brian! How the hell...."
He'd expected violence but not this... hurt. This
disappointment. Dom was retreating further and he knew if he
didn't stop him now he'd lose everything. He made a grab for
Dom's wrist but made his grip as light as he could, immediately feeling
the fight rise in the bigger man.
"Listen to me before you beat the crap outta me, okay?"
Dom's eyes were the only things that were hard now. "Give me one
reason why I should."
"Because I just told you I was an undercover cop, Dom! Not great
for long life expectancy, right?" Dom's head was cocked to one
side, regarding him steadily. But he made no attempt to move his
wrists from Brian's hold. "There's a crew jacking semis here in
L.A.. The FBI requested local help and my sergeant recommended
me. They're sure you're behind it but they can't prove it.
I was supposed to find the evidence they were missing and bring you in."
"Why you?"
"Because I can drive. Because I know my way around cars.
And because I was desperate to get my detective's shield."
"So... what? You were supposed to wriggle into my life, make me
trust you...." He moved his finger between them. "This
seems a bit extreme, Brian."
"This," he emphasised the word, "wasn't part of the plan. I
figured you were an easier bet than Mia," he felt the muscles tense
under his fingers, "but I never planned for this. It's why I'm
telling you."
"Why? Before you did something you'd regret? You didn't
seem very... disinclined."
Brian managed a wry smile. "The only regret is you're probably
not interested any more. But I know you Dom and this..."
"You don't know me."
He recognised the defensive tone and rose to answer it, letting a note
of challenge into his voice.
"Yeah, I do. Well enough to know this wouldn't have been a
one-off meaningless fuck." He paused. "That's why I had to
tell you."
He fully expected the violence to begin then. He was sure Dom
wouldn't kill him but was positive he'd hurt him badly. After
all, it seemed that's what he'd done.
But Dom just stood there. "Tell me about the jackings."
"There've been four so far. MO - three black Hondas with green
running lights surround the truck, grappling hook fired from the one in
front. Guy climbs on the truck from the lead car, knocks out the
driver and they take it somewhere to unload it."
"Why do the FBI think we've got anything to do with it?"
"The precision driving and the way the cars are tricked out."
Dom took a step forward now, twisting his arms from Brian's grasp and
reversing the hold, getting a tight grip on the narrow wrists.
"And what do the FBI know, Brian?"
"Nothin'. They got nothin'. That's why I was undercover."
"What did you give them?"
"Tran." Something flickered across Dom's face, too fast for Brian
to catch its meaning. "I told them you've got nothin' to do with
it. I know you don't, Dom. You're too controlled, you got
too much to lose."
"You wouldn't still be lyin' to me, would you, Brian?"
"I never lied to you." That, at least, was the truth. Dom's
grasp on him was starting to hurt - flesh burning under the tight,
twisting grip.
"What about this?"
"This?"
"You said you knew what it would mean to me. What does it mean to
you?"
He almost laughed. "I've just thrown away my career for you,
Toretto! What do you think it means to me?"
The pain eased as Dom loosened his grip. "What's your real name?"
"O'Connor."
"Brian?"
"Yeah."
"Earl?"
He hesitated. "No. That's my sergeant's kid's name.
It's... Riley."
Dom smiled for the first time since Brian had decided it was
confessional. "Riley. Kinda suits you." Letting go of
Brian's wrists completely, he let his hands glide up Brian's arms,
teasing the light blond hairs, fingers sliding inside the rolled up
sleeves of the blue shirt. "Anything else you're holding out on
me?"
Suddenly unable to speak as Dom got closer, Brian shook his head.
"Be absolutely sure about that, Brian. You got one chance.
If you weren't you, I'd have thrown you to Vince by now. But you
are you. And God help me you're right that this isn't just a
one-off meaningless fuck. So if there's anything else...."
"There isn't, Dom, I swear."
They were nose to nose, Dom's hands moving again, downwards to get
purchase on Brian's butt. "In that case, I was about to show
Brian Spilner exactly how much he means to me. Is Brian O'Connor
as interested to know?"
Getting purchase with his right foot on the edge of the Supra's fender,
Brian hooked his left ankle around Dom's shin, wrapping his arms around
the solid neck. “Oh, yeah.”
"Let's start again, Brian O'Connor." Dom kissed him.
~
In the shuddering moments as he came down from orgasm, he felt Dom’s
mouth against his throat and heard the low rumbled words, "It is us."
For a few seconds, the words made no sense. "What is?"
"The trucks."
It hit Brian like a bucket of cold water. "No." Pulling
back out of Dom's arms, he shook his head. "No."
Dom's smile was at once wry and apologetic and as his pulse returned to
normal Brian thought his pounding heart might break. Had he been
so wrong? Had he seen only what Dom had meant him to see?
Had Dom known, all along, been stringing this out until he got what he
wanted only to....
Dom was in his face again, one hand carding through his damp hair, the
other arm curving around his waist. "How can someone so arrogant
have so little self-confidence?" he asked gently, a smile playing on
his lips.
"Tell me the truth." The irony of his plea wasn't lost on him.
"Me, Letty, Vince, Leon and Jesse. Not for the money, but for the
ride, for the high."
"Jesus."
"You really didn't think it was us?"
"No. No, I...." He was angry, furious even but it was
difficult to fly into a rage held so close against Dom's solid
form. "God, Dom, the truckers, they're arming themselves.
The last guy you attacked is carrying a fuckin' shotgun now and the
others will follow his lead!"
Dom wasn’t batting an eyelid. Was just watching him, faintly
amused, faintly touched. "You do care," he murmured and it almost
sounded like he wasn't teasing.
"I'm serious." He wasn't sure what else to say, what to do.
Moreover it pissed him off to know that Bilkins and Tanner had been
right all along. Why hadn't he seen it? When had he lost
control of this?
'When you laid eyes on him that first day at the store,' the clinical,
detached part of his brain pointed out. He ignored it.
"Don't sweat it, Bri," Dom was saying.
"What...? Listen to me. If the FBI don't catch you the
truckers will kill you. Which one do you prefer, Dom?
Prison or death."
Dom's expression turned serious. "Death. But there's
another choice. They don't have anything on us. If we stop,
they can't get anything on us."
"You'd stop?"
"I'm not suicidal, Bri, none of us are. The money's hidden well
enough. The haul's long gone, someone with a lot more to lose
than I have." He searched Brian's face. "I know I don't
need to say this...."
"I'm not gonna narc on you."
Dom dropped his forehead to Brian's and stroked one flat hand down
along the curve of his spine.
"Didn't think so. Come on, Snowman, there are a few developments
that need explaining to the team."
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