sparsenicjade
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"I don't know, Spence." As testament to his words, Ryan looks pretty doubtful. "Automatic works out pretty all right for me."

"Stop being a complete girl," Spencer says, with no trace of sympathy.

Ryan frowns, but when Spencer opens the driver-side door for him he gets in. Then shuts it himself, just to make a point. Spencer goes around to the passenger side. Ryan thinks he might have missed the point.

"Think of it like a guitar," Spencer says. "You have to hold the right strings and strum at the same time, yeah?"

"The guitar does not involve my feet." There's a reason why Ryan is a musician, not a jock.

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Ryan, Jesus." He reaches over the shift stick and positions Ryan correctly, going so far as to dive down beneath the steering wheel and get Ryan's feet where they're supposed to be.

"While you're down there--" Ryan starts.

"Shut up," Spencer finishes.

Ryan pouts, which only makes Spencer bite Ryan's lower lip as an introduction to his clear intent to kiss Ryan's moodiness away. Ryan, however, is not a boy easily dissuaded from his rightful irritation, not by the likes of Spencer Smith, in any case.

Spencer pulls off, sighing. "Try it for me and I'll blow you in the backseat?"

Ryan might be easier than he sometimes likes to admit. He keys up the ignition. "What do I do?"

Spencer takes Ryan's right hand and puts it on the stick, closes his own hand over it. "I'll show you."


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Skin by egelantier, photo by microbophile