As Red lied down under a vehicle, Beverly sat quietly, watching as Red swapped a tool for another, grunting and breathing erratically. The last hour and a half had consisted of Red working, and Beverly watching.

How long was the average workday for a mechanic? Would they be there until four, five, six, seven? Only time would literally tell at this point.

Red could sense Beverly's anxiety, while he sat up, and faced the younger boy. "We'll take a lunch at 11:45, and we'll leave at 7:00. I've got overtime today." Without another word, Red slid back under the car, while Beverly breathed out a sigh.

And the next few hours would be hell.

Beverly felt like a child, waiting for their parent to finish work, and play with them. Because that's exactly what he wanted. He wanted the day to end, and to simply talk to Red—even if Red most likely didn't want to.

Several hours later, and Red slid from beneath the same car, sending Beverly a sarcastic smile. "Time for lunch."

Beverly thought he was grateful when Red had taken him in—no, he was grateful for this. He grinned brightly at Red, teeth and all. "Where to?"

"Jerry's."

Of course, Beverly had no idea who Jerry was, but he followed Red blindly over to his truck, his heart smiling along with his lips.

During the ride, Red allowed Beverly to talk his ear off—only offering a few answers and mere responses. But Beverly didn't care—he'd gone on and on until Red finally stopped listening, and turned up the radio.

But Beverly could see passed Red's cold exterior—he was beginning to warm up to him. And that thought alone made Beverly smile even brighter.