Prompt Me Hard - 5. 254 - Biker Boys

“Since when is that acceptable?” Gary could barely contain the rage in his voice as he stared at his son, “At what point did you decide that that was going to be acceptable?”

Father and son looked at each other across the kitchen table for a long moment before Hadley turned around and stomped upstairs. He’d should have known. Things between them had been going so well. Hadley sat on his bed and stared at the Honda racing poster on the back of his door. He should have known that his father was just bottling up all the things that were annoying him about his son.

Hadley touched the pad of one finger to the cling film that covered his new tattoo and sighed. He loved the tattoo, the black and colours and the shading… it was excellent. He was really happy with it, and the three hundred quid it had cost. It wasn’t the money that his father was upset about, he’d saved up, it was his money to spend. He was nineteen, he could make his own decisions. Hadley laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

When he had announced that he wasn’t going to university, his father had sighed, argued, tried to show him the advantages of campus life, but eventually relented.

When he had started working at the garage, working with bikes, coming home every day covered in oil: Gary had been cool, mostly, pleased that he was making money, getting on with his co-workers.

Then he’d found out about the racing.

Hadley had managed to keep the dirt bike racing secret, all through school. Lyall had been the one with the bike, then bikes after his fourteenth birthday when his parents had bought him a new Kawasaki dirt racer and the little Honda starter had been all Hadley had been able think about every waking moment from then on in. Lyall’s parents had been rather laid back about their sort-of-adoption of their oldest son’s best friend: and had taken him to races, paid his entrances fees, cheered him on and bought him burgers and chips afterwards. Lyall’s sixteenth birthday was in the same week as his, three days before, and there had been a pair of Aprilia RRV450’s sitting in the garage and one had been sprayed bright yellow. Hadley had spent the next two years winning and competing on that thing until the day he’d unthinkingly pulled up in the driveway to grab a different jacket and his father had been home.

Gary had hauled his arse over hot coals, shout, screamed, then not spoken to him for weeks. Like four whole weeks. He’d made Hadley give the bike back, even though the license and the registration had been in his own name and Hadley had walked out of the house. He couldn’t stay with Lyall, because it would be the first place his father would look, and had spent two sleepless nights kipping in the back of Ian’s purple and green racing mini. Going home with his tail tucked between his legs had not been fun.

And now this. Hadley couldn’t see what his father was so worked up about. It was a tattoo, and an awesome one at that. He’d had the artist do a slightly Japanese style rendition of his favourite photo; an image showing himself and Lyall on their bikes, riding into the sunset. The blood and flame colours that spilled up his shoulder from his shoulder blade made him gloriously happy. It was a picture of him and his best friend on the best day of his life. How could it be possibly be inappropriate?

Hadley spent a while clicking around the internet on his phone, sent the pics of the tattoo to Lyall, Ian and a couple of guys from the shop, checked on his email and read through the latest spec on the updated Kawasaki Ninja. It was a nice bike, but pointlessly overpowered for use on the roads. He found a second hand Ducati 749 online for a decent price and sighed heavily. It was a good bike, and he was qualified to have it. Hadley dropped the phone into his lap and pulled out his wallet.

There is was. It was awesome that it had come through on the same day as his appointment for the tat. It had been one of those things that you hoped would happen, but never actually do. He’d taken the test for the top class racing license, and now here is was in front of him. He could race, he could ride whatever he wanted, and he had a test run with the Ducati racing satellite team next week.

And now he had his father to deal with. Hadley took his new license and the confirmation letter with him when he went back downstairs.

“Dad?” Gary was standing at the sink, washing the dishes like he had a grudge against them, “Dad? I need you to look at this.”

“What? What am I supposed to be looking at?” Gary dumped the dish onto the draining board and turned around with wet hands. He scanned the card and then the paper and made an angry sort of noise, “What is this?”

“You know what it is Dad. I told you I couldn’t stop racing.”

“And I told you that you had to!”

“Don’t yell at me.” Hadley folded the letter around the license and stuffed the two back into his jeans pocket, he winced when the skin stretched over the bruised, newly tattooed muscle. “I want to race. I need to race.”

“You’re risking your life out there.” Gary sat heavily at the table, “Every time you race you might die.”

“And I might not.” Hadley sat on the other side of the table, “I have to do this dad.”

“And the tattoo?” Gary fixed his son with a hard glare, “You have to know how that looks? It’s totally inappropriate.”

Hadley arched a dark eyebrow.

“How it looks?” He touched the visible part of the tattoo on his shoulder, “What do you mean, how it looks? It’s not like I have some big fuck-off skull or anything on me. It’s a good tattoo.”

“Of another man.” Gary shook his head, “People are going to assume that you love him.”

Hadley frowned. Lyall was like his brother, they’d know each other since they were ten. They did everything together. Of course he loved Lyall: he was his bro, his best guy, the nicest kid he knew.

“He’s my best friend Dad.”

“And have you seen him with any girls lately?” Gary stood up again and returned to the dishes, “You have no idea how that boy worships you.”

“Huh?” Hadley stared at his father’s back, “What?”

“Lyall is gay Hadley. He’s in love with you.”

“Huh?” Hadley repeated the single syllable dumbly, and lost focus on what was happening in the kitchen. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Lyall: Dude! Sic tat, looks awesome. Good enhancement for good skin. Love it xxx

Three kisses. Lyall ended pretty much all his texts with kisses. He’d never thought about it before. Gary’s words went around in his skull for a while. Lyall was his best friend, they’d grown up together, raced together. Lyall wasn’t going to continue in racing, not like he was. He was supportive, had hugged his friend when the letter came through. Driven him to his license test because Hadley had been so nervous that he’d nearly thrown up. Lyall who had never once told him no, always been there for him, always smiled and ended his texts with kisses.

Hadley went to the mirror in the hallway and pulled his shirt over his head, looking over his shoulder at the ink. Lyall, his best friend on the matching bike, riding into the sunset. Lyall was gay. Lyall apparently loved him.

Hadley tried to find words to describe how he felt and came up empty.

Now what was he going to do?