Thief With A Bike ~ Krii7y

~~~ { 27 } ~~~

As October rolled into November, John found himself in Smit's car with Puffer and Grizzy in the back. Both of them decided it was a fun idea to drink back there, and were hammered off their asses, but somehow Smit didn't care.

Smit himself was enjoying their drive, he had his sunglasses on, hat backwards, and was driving way over the speed limit. John had gotten used to it though.

Turns out, you don't want to get in a car with Smii7y, because he drives like a fucking madman. He swerves carelessly at 150 mph, and doesn't care about traffic around him. That and he didn't care about the snow and ice on the road. John had a few episodes where he grabbed Smit's arm, which is usually resting on the center console, in a not-so-subtle attempt to tell him to slow down.

Smit found it endearing, John certainly did not.

And he learned fast, that it only made Smit push the pedal more.

Soon, they were in rural Michigan, heading towards the boarder crossing into Manitoba. Smit said they'd take a small tour of the country first, even though he also said there wasn't much there besides farmland.

Smit had plenty of gas money anyway.

Grizzy came along on the trip because apparently he went with every year, and Puffer came with because he didn't have a choice.

Both drank to it.

And probably smoked something somewhere with it.

Smit didn't seem as much as bothered, so it was probably normal for his road trips to end up this way.

"Smit, slow the fuck down!" John yelped with he saw they were breaching 160 mph.

"Hmmm, but I like going fast." Smit huffed, his innocence was not going to fool John.

"Smit, please, Holy shit!" John grabbed onto Smit's arm, a wave of panic washed over him. The two drunks in the back didn't seem bothered by the speed.

John saw Smit settle a bit when John touched him.

He already has enough dirty thoughts, fuck sakes.

"Fine." Smit said reluctantly, but it sounded like he didn't really care about slowing down now, not when John was probably heavily distracting him by the death grip on his arm. John was more than relieved when Smit dropped down to 100 mph instead, which was still fast, but not as bad.

"Happy?" Smit said, a goofy grin on his face when he looked over his shoulder at John.

"Sure, just don't get going that fast again, that was fucking terrifying." John shook his head.

"So you're fine with going faster then that on a bike, but not a car?" Smit giggled a bit.

"Bikes are different, you can weave, and... and lane filter better." John attempted to justify, but was quiet when he heard Smit's cheery laugh.

"Relax John, I'm a professional." Smit said, attempting to be cool.

"Professional my ass, the only thing you're professional at is getting us killed at that speed." John pulled his hand away from Smit to cross him arms.

John felt Smit speed up a bit.

"I'm a professional at a few other things too." Smit said with a wink.

"Asshole." John said as he replaced his hand on Smit's arm, seeing what he was getting at.

"Just watch the drunks John, we'll be fine." Smit said finally.