Brian heard the Charger's engine two miles off, throaty and cautious. He had the beer out on the table by the time Dom shouldered open the door and carried in the crate.
"Any trouble?" Brian said, grinning.
"Shut up," Dom said.
"Glad to hear it," Brian said, grin widening. "Not that I was worried, like you said, you can handle a little ice, who needs snow chains -- "
"Shut. Up," Dom said. "And give me one of those."
Brian handed him a beer and hauled the crate over to the table. It covered most of the surface, but that said more about the table than the crate.
Dom tipped back the bottle, throat working as he let it all slide down. He followed Brian over and took another while Brian pried off the lid. "Everything you were looking for?" Dom said.
"Yeah," Brian said. The bags of white powder were all still sealed and marked. There might even be some fingerprints to be had, not that those would matter a lot, except to grab a few low-on-the-totem pole people. But the paperwork was all there, too, everything to lead the RCMP straight to Duplessis, the next time the local officer came by on patrol.
"Yeah," he said, putting the lid back on. "It's all here."
Dom nodded and took another pull on the bottle. "You sure this is going to get you clear?"
"Huh?" Brian said, stopping with a hand on the top of the crate. "Clear for stealing a hundred million and busting up half of Rio? You're kidding, right?"
Dom frowned at him. "So what the fuck is this, then?"
Brian looked away and shrugged. "The right thing to do."
He could feel Dom's eyes on him, heavy, and then Dom snorted affectionately. "You're a fucking lunatic, O'Conner. But what else is new."
Dom turned away and surveyed the outpost: one cot, one combination cookstove and heater with two burners, one small cabinet overhead, table and one chair. "Nice place. Let's leave."
"Best not go until morning," Brian said, jerking a thumb at the window. It was starting to snow again. "We don't want to risk having to stop too close. The RCMP will ask around when they find this."
"This plan gets better every minute," Dom said, sourly. "So we're clear, your skinny ass isn't getting the bed."
Brian said blandly, "The road in front of the house does a loop, three miles around. I thought we could race for it."
Dom glared at him, obviously caught between the indignation of having to refuse a challenge and Brian's nerve at calling the shit outside a road. Brian managed to keep a straight face for a few more seconds, and then Dom was on him, tackling him to the ground as Brian laughed and laughed, a lot harder than it deserved, feeling whole and free and good for the first time since he'd crossed the line for good and busted Dom out of the prison bus.
"I swear I am an inch away from beating your pretty face into the floor," Dom said, shoving him flat but still half-laughing with him. "You owe me a new set of shocks."
Under him, maybe a little delirious with it, Brian grinned and grabbed Dom's thighs and rolled his hips up from the floor. "Yeah? How's that suspension feel?"
He was expecting -- no, he wasn't expecting anything. It was like seeing an unexpected hairpin and taking it, no thinking it through, just pure reflex. And Dom was right in his draft, nowhere to go but stick with him or crack them both up, and damn, Dom was going to stick with him, Brian realized, and he was straining up to meet Dom's mouth even as Dom's hand slid roughly into his hair and gripped tight.
"I'm gonna pound you, O'Conner," Dom was saying, kissing him hard and sweet, fantastic, and Brian groaned, already imagining Dom's weight on top of him on the narrow cot, Dom's cock sliding home with their hands gripped together over his head.