Will × Arsenic

The Van

Evening

One would think a man like Arsenic who wore stained black cowhide jackets and dark slacks that hugged his hips and crotch sublimely would drive something along the lines of...Well a sports car, or muscle car of some sort. One would also question how a blind man drove. They can’t. Or at least aren't supposed to.

Both assumptions: Incorrect.

The club scene had become a little stale, Nic boredly thumbing the side of his glass, making it squeak. Will, on the other hand, sat behind bar, head on the top being cushioned by a cleaning rag. His dark curls fell on the back of his hands that lay in front of his crown.

The day had been slow, so Arsenic didn't blame the other for lazing, but he had enough of it.

Sliding his stool back so it's legs ground into the floor with a screek, Arsenic stood up, reached over counter to tap Willis shoulder.
“Hey, close up shop, follow me.”

Arsenic only caught the tail end of Wills sound of protest, for he’d already made his way across the club, and out the door to the gray sidewalks. The air was chilly, like normal, making the reptilian go stiff and curse the outside weather.

It didn't take too long for Will go be at his side, still giving the other a questioning look beyond those dark shades that shielded his eyes. “wuh-where we going?”

The question was put off by a simple, grabbing on of the hand and tugging down the sidewalk. Nic lead him in the direction he often came from when arriving to the club; up a hill lined by parked cars and a few motorbikes spotted in there. He could feel Wills growing curiosity the further they went up the hill...Or maybe it was exhaustion.

Finally Nic came to a stop, tongue working at the air for a few seconds before he turned the opposite direction of the road and now faced the open mouth of an alley way. Nestled amongst the shadows and a cockeyed dumpster was a sun-dried-tomato-orange, Volkswagen BMW van. Yes, the kind hippies drove. The paint was chipping some, and there were spots where the sun had bleached the hood and top yellow, but a blind man could care less.

“Hop in.” Nic said with a grin, picking his way over the strewn trash to yank open the driver side with a ear splitting creak. He waited for the sound of the passenger side door slamming closed before he cranked the key and the van roared to life, giving a shake like an old cat who just woke from a nap, then dwindled into a purr.

“wait a second, are you driving?!” Will squeaked from his seat, suddenly reaching over to man the steering wheel even though they had yet to leave neutral. “Nic, you ca-”

Nic leaned over and pecked Will's cheek to silence him, gently peeling his hands from the wheel to replace them with his own. “Trust me.”

Hearing the soft gulp and exhale, Nic took it as an “okay.”

~~

It started off rocky, Nic having backed out of the alley, using only his sense of smell and the vibration up through the wheels to his feet, to tell where he was going. A few trash can were harmed, but once on the road he did fine. Stop lights were a little tricky, for he had to concentrate on hearing the quiet “ping” of the light switching, but stop signs were harder. Nic just ran them and hoped for the best.

All ran much smoother when Arsenic turned onto a side road that lead out into the countryside, ultimately putting them in the middle of nowhere, so running into traffic was at a low possibility. That was when the radio was cranked on, the scratchy sound of “beach boy” crackling through the speakers. Normally, Nic would have the windows down, but since the air out side bit like an angry snake, he kept them sealed.