ash and sasha

Who: Ash and Sasha
Where: teh shop
When: afternoon

Ash pulled his head out from under the hood of the Sentra that was sitting in the second bay, wiping his hands on his jeans and sighing. "Motherfucking piece of shit," he muttered under his breath, which wasn't even audible over the music. But it wasn't blasting today, seeing as how Sasha was there, and sometimes they actually had to verbally communicate. The angel wasn't in the best of moods today, and he couldn't really pin down why. The teasing promise of seeing Eury again, the guy-requisite period of time before he darkened Joey's doorstep again, the lack of snow so far, the engine in front of him, something else entirely, he didn't know. He just wanted to beat something senseless with the wrench in his hand. Instead he tossed it down to the concrete and turned to head for the oil-fingerprinted mini-fridge to dig another coke out.

Who: Sasha and Ash
When: evening
Where: teh shop

Once it started to get darker -- and colder -- out, Ash meandered his way back toward the shop. It'd be about time for Sasha to go home, and even though he had keys and knew how to close up, Ash had been meaning to catch him with a couple of minutes to talk. So, back he went. He stubbed his cigarette out with his boot right outside the half-closed bay door, and ducked his way under it, looking around for the younger man.

Who: Sasha and Ash
When: around 9ish a.m.
Where: Ash's shop

No one would probably ever expect it? But Ash loved Mondays. He loved the weekends more, granted, but Mondays had a good feel to them, for him. A getting-back-to-work feel. He guessed that was what happened when you loved both of your jobs. He felt awesome and energized as he threw the bay door up and open. "Nothing like the smell of dirty oil in the morning," he drawled to himself and chuckled as he lit up a cigarette. Maybe tonight, he'd do some hunting of some kind. Go out and get some shit done. But first, there were engines to fuck around with, brakes to replace, dipsticks to check. He turned away from the street outside and ambled over to the worn and filthy stereo that sat on a shelf littered with tools and parts to turn it on and crank it up. It was gonna be a good day, he could feel it already.

Shasha didn't exactly love Mondays. There certainly wasn't the hatred there that some had to deal with, though. It could perhaps be said that he had a working relationship with them, they left him alone long enough to wander on to Tuesdays and everyone was happy. Still, this Monday he was at least eager to see, as he hadn't been able to do much serious job hunting on Sunday, and money was tight for someone without work or a home. So he found himself heading to the Motor Masters auto shop, dressed in semi-presentable clothing consisting of a new pair of light cargo pants and a button down shirt of flat black. He walked into the front of the store and to the desk, tapping on the tired little bell on the counter.