Redemption's A Bitch - 13. Dangerous; Beautiful

Kieran stood under the shower and practically purred as he ran his fingers through his hair, dragging his short nails over his scalp. If he shut his eyes, he could half trick himself into believing that instead of calling a taxi for Robin, he had brought the wonderful young man home with him and enticed him into his overly-large shower. All night they had talked, and Kieran had been slightly aroused almost the entire time. When Robin had kissed him, Kieran’s erection had jumped into sharp relief quicker than he thought physiologically possible.

Kieran tried to recall the kiss exactly, the way Robin’s lips had pressed against his own, the single hot breath into his mouth as they’d opened up for each other. Kieran had loved the sensation of holding the boy tight against his chest, an arm wrapped around his narrow waist, pressing them together from sternum to knee. He had not imagined Robin’s own hard-on against his thigh. Kieran let his shoulders relax against the wet tile wall, ran his palm down his chest and gave in to the overwhelming desire to touch himself. Even that simple pleasure he had resisted, and his pulse jumped raggedly under his skin.

He barely even needed a fantasy; just the idea of Robin was enough to make him whimper into the streaming water. But Kieran’s imagination stripped the boy of his clothes, put him there in the shower, his breath flame-hot on Kieran’s neck, a little chuckle catching in his throat as he said Kieran’s name. Kieran groaned, set his teeth in his lip to keep from panting and stroked his lengthy cock in time with the thundering of his pulse. He wanted the image to last forever, but his body was not willing to hold on. He cried out as he came, moaning incoherently as he slid down the wall of the shower. The water washed away the evidence rather quickly, but that didn’t mean Kieran could get his knees back in working order for at least another ten minutes. He finished washing his hair from the shower floor.

The dogs had been sleepy, but pleased to see him on his return, and Kieran had let them up to his room and returned from his shower to find all four looking at him intently. Only Shadow looked like he’d been pacing a hole in the carpet.

“I’m fine. Stop worrying.”

The big husky woofed softly, and Kieran took this as permission to pull on a pair of light cotton drawstring trousers, and pass out blissfully on one of the sofas, snuggled up with Suk while the television played news no one was watching.

An hour later, the knocking on his door pulled Kieran up out of a very pleasant dream that he couldn’t recall the details of, and he groaned as the light hit his eyes again. Even though the dawn had been beautiful, suddenly the world was now too bright.

“Come in,” he cracked open one moss green eye, “Oh, hey Shas.”

“When did you get in exactly?”

Kieran waved a hand at another sofa blindly.

“About half five, I think. What’s up Cus?”

“Out all night? With Robin?”

“Yes…” Kieran woke up properly, “what of it Shas?”

“Kier, you know I just want you to be careful-”

“Stop treating me like I’ve done something wrong already then.” Kieran rocked up off his sofa. “You don’t want me dating Becca’s brother, understood. Doesn’t mean a thing. We’re both adults.”

“Dating?” Shastan stared at his cousin, stunned. “The two of you are dating?”

“Um…” Kieran went very quiet, very fast. The two of them had not actually, at any point, discussed what it was they were doing, though Kieran had tried to make it clear, at least with his behaviour, that he was only interested in seeing Robin, and not anyone else. On the other hand, Kieran didn’t know if Robin would describe one date, one failed date, one afternoon hanging out with some kids and a chance encounter in a pub, as dating.

Unexpectedly, the next thing Kieran knew was that Shastan was hugging him hard around the neck.

“Air!”

“Sorry. I’m so proud of you Kier!” Shastan stroked the back of his head before he sat back down. Vuka instantly tried to snuggle against his thigh, tail brushing the floor enthusiastically. “Interesting choice though.”

“Wasn’t exactly a choice.” Kieran smiled ruefully. Falling into lust, then obsession, then love with his cousin’s fiancé’s brother had not exactly been convenient. But Kieran couldn’t imagine Robin being anyone else. “Becca’s not gonna be happy about it.”

“Well no, she is aware of your… reputation,” Shastan spoke carefully, “she wants to apologise to you for what she said the other day.”

“Shas…” Kieran began to complain.

“No, Kieran, please. She will feel better if you let her apologise, and I know you are great at pretending not to give a crap, but you do.”

“She had no right to say those things.”

“I know, but it’s done now,” Shastan paused, “I’m sorry Kier, I know you guys have never gotten along, but I love her.”

“I have never understood why,” Kieran shrugged.

“And I have never understood the desire for another bloke, but there we are. How boring would it be if we were all the same?”

“Shas?” Kieran picked at his fingernails. “Does it ever annoy you that I won’t have kids? Your children will be the last of us,” he sighed, “you think mom and dad would have minded? I don’t suppose they ever knew. I was away at school and so on... There’ll be no more Tristan’s left after me.”

“Nothing lasts forever, Cus.”

“A dynasty of eighteen generations, and there’s no one left apart from us. It’s a bit pitiful.”

“I’m sure grandfather would have been grateful that anything was left. I’ll just have to have lots of sons.”

Kieran arched an eyebrow at him.

“You’re getting married in four days, and already you’re thinking about children. Does Becca know you’re gonna have her knocked up the second you get hitched?”

“Oh, Kieran! Don’t be vile.”

“I can be much worse than that.”

“I know,” Shastan sighed, “Brian called for you.”

“Huh?” Kieran blinked.

“Brian Donnelly?”

“Yes Shas, I know who Brian is. I worked with the man for years. Why did he call?”

Shastan inhaled deeply, folded his arms across his knees.

“Are you racing again?”

“What?” Panic flashed across Kieran’s inner vision along with a snapshot from the article that had appeared about him. It had only been a matter of time before Shastan had found out. “No!”

“Kier-” Shastan began.

“No! I promised you I wouldn’t race, so I won’t.”

“Kieran-”

“It was just a track day and some stupid moron got a bit trigger happy with their camera and their fucking Twitter feed.”

“KIERAN!”

Kieran stopped and looked at his cousin, Shastan was smiling. Kieran was instantly suspicious.

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“No. If you say you’re not racing, I believe you. Looks like you had fun though.”

“Yeah…” Kieran sighed, almost wistfully. Tearing around the track had made him feel more alive than all the one-night stands and sexual conquests in the world.

“You should call Brian back.”

“OK.”

*

“Hey,” Kieran bounced softly of the balls of his feet, hands shoved into the pockets of his favourite leather jacket, “is Robin in?”

Becca glared at him.

“What do you want Kieran?” She folded her arms over her chest. “I really don’t think you should be here.”

“And I don’t think you get to have that opinion.” Kieran smiled sweetly to hide the fact he was trying not to grind his teeth. “Or are you not aware how angry Shastan was with you?”

“‘Was’, past tense Kieran.” Becca looked smug.

“And you think he’d still marry you if you did it again?” Kieran growled. His happy demeanour was, gone, and he stepped up to her and stared her down, eyes narrowed. “You wanna bet your Happily Ever After on it?”

Becca held his gaze for another three terrified heartbeats, then stepped back, clearing her throat.

“Rob! Door!”

Kieran beamed at her as she vanished. He had been cruel, undoubtedly, but what she’d said still rankled him. Ten seconds later, Robin appeared, and his questioning look morphed into a sunrise smile before Kieran’s eyes.

“Kier!” Robin looked past him to the hulking shape of the Mitsubishi towing the bike trailer with the Kawasaki and the Suzuki on board. “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah…” Kieran smiled tightly. “Are you busy? I kinda… need…fuck…” Kieran exhaled sharply, tapping his boots on the ground. Talking to the guy he liked… loved, shouldn’t have been so hard.

“Kieran?” Robin’s hand on his shoulder brought Kieran back to the present moment with a thud. “Do you need me to come with you?”

“Please.”

“I’ll get my shoes.” Robin smiled at him, and then very quickly stepped forwards, grabbed Kieran’s t-shirt collar and kissed him hard, “smile.”

Kieran blinked a few times as he vanished from sight, then stepped out of the doorway, trying to still his racing heart. It would not do to get all worked up before this particular visit. By the time Robin shut the door of the truck, Kieran had gotten his breathing under control and his hands back on the steering wheel. Robin looked in the back of the truck, which looked very much like a portable kennels, and frowned.

“No dogs?”

“Not today.” Kieran gulped. “You sure you got time for this?”

“Nothing planned all day.” Robin stroked the leather trimmed dashboard absently. “I’m just so happy you showed up. I swear if I have to listen to another word about this fucking wedding, I’m gonna disown my family.” His fingers found Kieran’s as the young man shifted into first gear. “Plus it means I get to spend the day with you.”

They were both quiet as Kieran took the most direct route through town, wincing at each speed bump, praying not to hear any rattling or clunking from the back, before pulling out onto the dual carriageway which would lead them onto the three lane motorway heading north.

“So, where are we going?”

Kieran smiled.

“Brands Hatch.”

Site of many races, crashes, victories; Brands Hatch was one of Kieran’s favourite tracks, the place where men and women went to test themselves, their machines. There wasn’t a racing fan, two wheels or four, who hadn’t wanted to pilgrimage there. Some were lucky enough to go often, but Kieran hadn’t been there in years. The circuit was on a whole other level than the raceway. Two and half miles of twists and turns and delicious S-bends and straight sections that made Kieran tingle right from the back of his skull to his groin just thinking about them.

He’d called Brian back as soon as Shastan had left, and after five minutes of listening to his former coach’s over excited chatter, hung up, and called Hayley.

“Kawasaki called.”

“What?” Kieran had stared stupidly at the phone, as though it might give him some extra information, like the useful news reel at the bottom of the muted television screen. “Sorry?”

“The fifth leg of the MCE superbike Championship just happened.” Hayley knew that one of the things Kieran had done to avoid going back to racing was cut all ties and subscriptions to any form of race related news. “Ellison crashed, and he’s injured pretty bad.”

“And what does this have to do with me?” Kieran said the man’s name under his breath and for half a second gave thanks he wasn’t dead, that Ellison would live to see his wife and kids and probably race again. It was automatic; every time anyone heard of a crash, there was a moment of stillness when you gave thanks. “Hayley?”

“Mark Smith heard your name. People have been talking about you since the stunts you pulled at the raceway,” Hayley sighed, “no one thought you’d retire for good anyways.”

“OK…”

“They need another rider, and there are other names besides yours, but the team principal wants you to go for a test run. There’s three weeks until the next leg at Thruxton.” Hayley paused, obviously covering the phone to listen to Brian. “There’s still time to train.”

Kieran had wanted to smash the phone. He’d spent so long not thinking about racing, so long refusing to allow himself to love what he missed: and here were Brian and Hayley with an open ticket back into that world. Kieran had hung up, called Brian back, hung up again, spent ten minutes shouting at nothing, then called Hayley back and told her to set up the meeting. He hadn’t told Shastan.

The manager for the Lloyds GB Moto Kawasaki team was there to meet them when Kieran pulled up. The track was closed for everyone apart from other MCE riders and their teams, which meant that Kieran drove right up to the back of the pits and climbed out of the truck to the quietest race track he’d known since the time he’d booked the whole thing out for his nineteenth birthday. Robin jumped down and looked around, wide-eyed.

“Mr Tristan Toyne? Welcome to Brands Hatch.” Kieran shook hands with the man he assumed would be doing the hiring, if there was any, and nodded to the head mechanic who stood in surprisingly clean overalls behind him. “It’s good to see you back.”

Kieran smiled, barely trusting himself to speak.

“Shall we get to it then?”

“Of course.”

He hung back as the men filed into the Kawasaki team pit bay and waited for Robin.

“I’m sorry. This is probably going to be really boring for you.”

“Nonesense.” Robin smiled. “I’m kinda excited to see you do this thing everyone says you do so well.” When Kieran frowned at him, Robin simply looked smug. “I looked you up. You lied to me.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did,” Robin stood on tiptoes, breath hot against the shell of his ear, “you are famous.”

“Well, well, Tristan Toyne.” A man with spiky hair and black and green race leathers shook his hand. “God it’s good to see you back in the pit.”

“Hi Chris. You’ve been having a good year?” The racer nodded. “This is Robin,” Kieran reached back and pulled the boy forwards with a smile, “he came to watch me whip you into shape.”

“Says the guy who’s been retired four years,” Chris elbowed Robin conspiratorially, “you’ll need to prop up your boyfriend’s ego by the end of the day, OK kid?”

Kieran rolled his eyes.

“C’mon then, show me the bike.”

The team rode the same bike Kieran did, only with a lot of custom racing parts. It was green, as standard, and covered in sponsorship logos. Kieran didn’t bother to get changed, but simply swung his leg over the seat and sighed in frustration.

“You know how tall I am right?” The second mechanic smiled and pointed to the head mechanic, who looked suddenly guilty. “Move the handle bars up about a foot and drop the toe rests down so I can actually sit on the damn thing. Also, it weighs a ton.”

“How do you know what it weighs?”

“I know it hasn’t got a carbon sub frame. Switch it.” Kieran hopped off the bike and stretched. “I’m gonna go for a practice lap on my machine, get a feel for the track again.”

Chris nodded, and then smiled to Robin.

“You wanna come up with me to the viewing platform? See how he does?”

“Kier?”

Kieran smiled, touching Robin’s waist quickly. The boy’s warm skin through his shirt was enough to make his pulse race.

“Yeah, it’s OK.”

Kieran changed out the back of the pit, dumping his clothes and stepping into his leathers. After his phone call with Hayley, he had gone out to the shop and bought a new one piece suit, black, white and green, with all the protective bits and pads that turned it into full on racing wear. Kieran slipped a titanium and Kevlar plate in over his pecs before zipping the suit up all the way and pulling on his helmet. As he brought his Kawasaki through the pit for a fuel up, he heard the second mechanic mutter to his colleague.

“It’s a wonder he ever left…”

Kieran fuelled up himself at the pit pump, listening to his pulse inside his skull. Robin was up there somewhere, watching the track, waiting for him. Kieran had never had anyone watching him, not like this. The test race wasn’t a big deal, not now: the stakes were suddenly higher. He revved the engine on the grid, feeling the familiar vibration up through his loins and hands, all the way to the back of his skull. The tension built, punching through the back of his mind until all that occupied Kieran’s brain was the need to ride. He grinned in the privacy of his own helmet, turned the throttle, and lifted away.

He tilted for the first right hand corner; just enough to pull him round close to the line, then gunned out the engine down the long straight section under the Pirelli Bridge. The S-bend was tight, and Kieran knew most riders switched down, gunned it through and changed up at the top of the left hand corner after the tight curve, but he stayed in gear, swung right, changed the side of the wheel he was using as he went, then dipped low for the left, the red and white kerb flashing past less than a foot from his face. There was another left hand bend where Kieran had to switch down a gear, but he still went round it practically horizontally. Under the Black Horse Bridge he straightened up, kept the tail end from wobbling and flew down with every cylinder in the Kawasaki punching as fast as they could. Two more turns, the stretch under the MCE banner, and Kieran whipped around the last right hand corner towards the grid. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just flew over the white lines and past the tower, and kept on going. His heart pulsed throughout his whole body. He could feel his heartbeat in his fingers and his crotch. Kieran switched gears with a push like it was nothing, hugged himself to the fuel tank, pushed the bike faster and further, and went around every corner like it was the last turn on earth. And he loved it.

Kieran couldn’t have said exactly when he’d switched for the adjusted team bike. One of the mechanics had warmed up the tyres a bit, and Kieran simply jumped from one hot seat to another and pulled away. With a full tank on a two and half mile loop, he didn’t have to worry about stopping to refuel often, and Kieran just kept on pushing the bike around as hard as they both could go. After an indeterminate amount of time, the flag went out and automatically Kieran’s internal tension dropped and his mind sped up as he began to slow. Riding fast, race fast, always made his brain feel sharper, but slower. There was more time between each breath, he ended up thinking four, five, corners ahead, planning what to do, seeing in his mind where he would change directions and where he would turn. Now his brain caught up with him. He was no longer thinking about the track, but thinking about the people watching. The coach, the team principal, the other rider, and the mechanics would all have things to say to him, but Kieran only cared about what Sparrow would say.

He pulled gently into the pit, letting the engine idle between his thighs as he put his feet down. It always felt weird first touching the ground through his boots after so long on the pedals. People started coming towards him, and Kieran wanted to be selfish, childish almost, stay in his helmet and not speak with anyone. As soon as he spoke the link between man and bike would be lost. Every time he got on, he needed to reaffirm that connection. But he exhaled, closing his eyes, and lifted off his helmet anyway.

“Tristan Toyne!” The head mechanic enunciated every syllable like it was a separate word. His chest was puffed out and he beamed with pride, for Kieran or his vehicle, the young man wasn’t sure, and he stopped in front of the bike, his hands on the cowling, holding the weight in balance while the second mechanic lifted the back onto the pit stand. With the weight of the bike suddenly taken from him, the responsibility to keep the metal beast upright between his thighs, Kieran suddenly sagged.

“Hey there,” Kieran read the mechanics embroidered name badge as Dylan as the man gripped his shoulder, “just breathe, kid. You did well.”

“Kieran!”

He turned to see Chris Walker at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the private stands and the viewing platforms. Robin was already running towards him, and Kieran couldn’t help but smile.

“Well?” he asked arms wide, “am I good enough for you?”

It was the last syllable he managed before Robin flew at him, arms wrapping around his neck, breath and skin surprisingly cool against Kieran’s own, his lips firm and soft and the sweetest reward Kieran had ever known. He forgot the bike, the ride, the thrill of the track, the tension of the people who owned and managed the team might think; the kiss was better than anything else.

“This is what you wanted? The life you wanted?” It was slightly unclear what Robin was referring to: the kiss or the race.

“Yeah,” Kieran replied breathlessly. Robin looked at him dead on, his hazel eyes shining with honesty and love.

“Then take it back. Race, Kieran.”