Redemption's A Bitch - 20. Respectable and Wild

“All riders on the track. All riders on the track.”

“Babe you should go, they’re calling you.”

“Nah, I got time,” Kieran cradled the phone against his ear, playing with the zipper tag of his leathers, “what are you doing?”

“I’m sitting on the stairs outside the main lecture theatre: I have another session starting in ten minutes.” Robin’s voice was full of smiles, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Kieran glanced out at the front of the pit. Ben and Dylan were looking for him, and Brian was sitting next to the bike, talking to the photographer who was now defying the marshals by staying on the grid to take his photo. He should have been out there already. “I wish you were here.”

“I know, I wish I was too. Inu and Suk miss you.”

“Are they being good boys?”

“Sterling. Everyone loves ‘em,” Robin was smiling, “it’s amazing the people who will talk to you when you have a dog. It’ll be so good to have you back. We’ll break ground on site at the weekend.”

“Final call: all riders on the track.”

Kieran scowled.

“Babe, go.”

“I don’t wanna race without you,” Kieran knew he sounded sulky and childish, but just for a moment he didn’t care.

“I’m right there,” Kieran felt the kiss, even though he didn’t see it, “in between your heartbeats. I’m right there.”

“I love you Sparrow.”

“Go make ‘em run Kieran.”

He took a deep breath before he hung up, as though Robin’s love was a scent he could inhale through the wires and transmitters that connected them. He arrived at the front of the pit still tucking his chest plate into place.

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” Dylan was not happy, but Ben simply smiled at him, holding the bike up with both hands. “Get your skinny arse in the saddle boy.”

“Kier?” Brian was holding his helmet, but didn’t hand it over as Kieran reached for it, “all good?”

“Grand.” The photographer had been scared off, and Kieran reached for the helmet again, “Brian?”

“Alright superstar,” Brian handed over the helmet and Kieran flicked the visor up to look at his trainer one last time, “go easy on the hairpins. We are not having a repeat of training.”

“It was barely a graze.”

“It was four stitches.”

“Brian…”

“Well get on with it then!”

Kieran growled, still smiling, and snapped the visor over his eyes. He was three positions back from the start, having been too careful and too cautious after being thrown off on the tight corner. But as the gun sounded, Kieran was glad of the other bikes in front of him. Sometimes it was so marvellous to have something to chase.

He thought of Robin, back in his lecture, pictured him drawing bits of Kieran’s bike in the margins of his notes. Whenever Robin’s mind wandered of late, his soft organic shapes had become interspersed with mechanics, pieces of engines and exhausts, cogs and pedals. He blamed Kieran for invading the privacy of his imagination, and then always made sure to kiss him and leave doodled love hearts where Kieran would see them. Kieran loved to huff onto the bathroom mirror and see the after images of Robin, infinite x’s and o’s fading off into the glass.

Leaving his boyfriend had been hard; packing a bag and knowing it would be more than a week until he had the young man in his arms again. The realities of their new life together were starting to sink in, and now that it was no longer the summer, Kieran realised there was no way he and Robin could be together twenty-four-seven. The little Sparrow had other responsibilities, and now Kieran did too. It was strangely lovely to pick Robin up from the campus, drive to the house or the beach, watch the sea for ten minutes or go to the site, and ask him about his day. Kieran’s university experience was a bit of a blur, moments of brilliance intercepted by clubbing, drinking, fucking and speeding around a race track at an hundred miles an hour: often on the bike but sometimes not. Robin sounded like he enjoyed his lectures, talking Kieran through his notes and sketches. They discussed different foundation materials and house building techniques trialled in disasters zones: Kieran had spent a whole day reading up information about Earthships and natural living, and Robin had returned home to find that his boyfriend had built a raised flowerbed with earth-filled old quad bike tyres to test the principle. He hadn’t planted anything, and the first thing Vuka had done was attempt and dig a hole to China in the centre, but Robin had smiled like the sun anyway.

The day before Kieran had been due to leave for his Donington trip, he had gone to the library. Not the one in the city centre which he adored, but the one further out of town, smaller and slightly more old fashioned, where the newest member of the Toyne family worked. Kieran knew Shastan had been going back and forth to his parents-in-law’s house, and he felt bad for his cousin. He and Becca had never gotten along, which was fine, because until the beast of The Big White Wedding had reared its head, they had generally stayed out of each other’s way and done their best to be civil. Kieran couldn’t see why they shouldn’t simply resume that truce.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Rebecca had narrowed her eyes, jaw clenched, but had waved him through to follow her behind the counter and towards a back area full of books to be repaired and sorted. Kieran had ridden the Ducati, the blood-red helmet tucked under his arm, and he knew that it garnered Becca’s disapproval too. His return to competitive racing had only added to her ire.

“Hi Becca.”

“What do you want Kieran?” Rebecca didn’t sound angry, just tired. She sounded very much how Shastan looked when he didn’t think Kieran was around to see. “I’m busy.”

“Yes, I know, sorry,” Kieran exhaled between clenched teeth, “Becca, you have to come home.”

“It’s not my home,” she wrapped her arms around herself briefly, “as I have been so forcefully reminded. It’s not my decision to make.”

“It’s killing him, not being with you,” Kieran looked her in the eyes when he spoke. “Just say whatever it is he needs to hear and come back.”

“What about you and Robin?” Rebecca seemed perplexed by his statement.

“We’re only going to be there until the house is finished. We’ll just go like we did before: I’ll keep the dogs out of your way, and you’ll stop acting like you own the place.”

“And my brother?”

Kieran sighed.

“You don’t want to be happy for me, and that’s fine. But you could at least be happy for him, Becca. I love him. You might not believe me or like me, but you could hug him and say ‘well done’ before whatever is left of your relationship crumbles away to dust.” Kieran hefted the helmet in his hands, and turned away.

“Why would you come here to say this to me? You hate me.”

Kieran gently head-butted his helmet.

“I love my cousin, and you make him happy,” Rebecca still looked doubtful, “and I don’t think that fundamentally you are a bad person. Just apologise and make it right. I’ll see you.”

Kieran had left her in the store room, looking slightly lost, but by the time he’d gotten home, Shastan was curled up on the sofa in the little living room with the phone and an in-love smile. Becca would have to beg forgiveness from her brother and be nice to Kieran when they met, but she had apologised to Shastan, and his cousin’s good graces were not an easy place to return to.

*

Kieran pulled up at the pit and released his iron grip on the handle bars. He flexed his fingers, working proper blood flow back into the skin which had started to go numb before flicking up his tinted visor. He exhaled, realising belatedly he hadn’t done that consciously for a while, and smiled at Dylan as the mechanic came running towards him. He was followed by Brian and Mark Smith, all of them grinning like mad.

“How’d I do?” Kieran pulled off his helmet and shook out his hair. The knot of the hair-tie at the end of the braid had been irritating his neck for the last two laps where it was tucked into his collar.

“You don’t know?” Mark look astounded.

It was Brian who clapped him on the thigh hard enough to shake him from his half-daze.

“You won, superstar!”

“I did?”

“Is he serious?” Chris Walker had pulled his bike up along Kieran’s even though he had to balance it between his thighs. “I’ve been chasing him like a madman for the last four laps and he didn’t even know he’d won?”

“Sorry?” Kieran smiled at his teammate, “I was… distracted.”

“Jeez Tristan,” Chris leant over, Ben grabbing the heavy bike quickly before it toppled, “you could drive a guy mad. I’ll see you on the podium.”

As Dylan took the weight of his bike onto the stands, Kieran practically poured himself onto the track. Brian started to pull him to his feet.

“I should call Robin.”

“You should go lie down,” Brian frowned, “did you eat breakfast Kier?”

“Umm…”

“Jesus boy,” Brian pushed him in the direction of the pit, “go fill up with sugar. We’ll take care of things here.”

He hadn’t meant to forget breakfast, and he didn’t want to leave the others to deal with the still-warm Kawasaki. Other drivers did that, but Kieran liked to be there for his bike. On the other hand, he felt the distinct wobble in his steps as he made his way towards the back of the pit. Kieran sat heavily in a folding chair, tried to take a deep steadying breath and felt constricted by the plate across his chest. He yanked down the zipper of his leathers and dropped the Kevlar reinforced shield to the floor between his feet.

He’d woken early and taken Shadow and Vuka for a run around the grounds of the hotel, come back to have a twenty minute text conversation with his boyfriend as he showered and got dressed, taken a picture to send the little Sparrow, smiling and half-dressed with his hair loose over his chest and shoulders, and then Brian had been calling him to come for warm-ups. He’d been so jumped-up about the race, and being back at Donington after so long, that he hadn’t noticed the lack of food until he’d stepped off the bike. Adrenaline could do marvellous things.

Kieran grabbed a high-energy cereal bar and munched his way through three more before getting up to open the van door and let the dogs out. He kept them close, both on leads, wagging their tails and nuzzling at his leathers clad legs as he ate.

“Gold and silver,” Mark wandered into the pit, smiling broadly, “it’s a good day for the team.”

“They don’t give out medals…”

“Don’t care, those are good points boy, you’ll place in the rankings if you keep riding like this.” Mark rubbed his shoulder, “even without your good luck charm, you’re hell on wheels.”

“Thanks.”

“Press interviews after the podium, and then I want you and Chris both out there with the bikes for some sponsorship photos,” he gave Kieran a hard look, “don’t forget.”

Dealing with the press and doing smiley photo shoots for sponsors were the parts of pro-racing Kieran had never missed. He hated having to talk about his ride, because journalists were looking for punchy quotes and self-contained phrases that would sound great in their articles. Kieran didn’t know how to describe his race to anyone, not really, because no one understood what he meant about thinking in the space between heartbeats apart from other top-level riders. Sponsors were worse, with their endorsements and product placement promotional pictures, and Kieran had walked away from so many sponsors when he’d been younger that Brian had lost his temper and told eighteen year old Kieran he’d have to buy his own team to compete in the Isle of Man TT. Brian hadn’t counted on the fact that Kieran would, and raced in plain black leathers and an unadorned helmet on his slick black bike with nothing written on it but the name MARS. And he’d placed in the top ten, which was unheard of for someone as green as him.

Kieran hefted his phone, wanting to interrupt Robin’s lecture and hear his soft voice again to help still his now-pounding heart, but he didn’t dare. As if by magic, the phone vibrated in his hand.

Robin: Well done. I love you xxx

Kieran: How did you know I was done?

Robin: I can do maths? :p Also I follow the live track updates on my phone, you posted some quick times round those corners.

Kieran grinned to him, almost purring happily as he read Robin’s words. The little Sparrow had been keeping tabs on him the whole time.

Robin: Proud of you. I’ll have to design a trophy cabinet into our new house, huh?

Kieran: I love you too Sparrow. Thank you xxx

Robin: I’ll have your present waiting in bed. Hurry home xxx

He collected his trophy like he always did, half-dressed and covered with a team t-shirt. This one had been taken directly off of Ben’s back, and had a greasy thumb print on the hem that Kieran hoped the cameras wouldn’t notice. He grinned up at the sky, wondering in his head if it was possible to be this lucky for this long.

He said all the right things for the press, smiled, thanked the team, congratulated Chris Walker on his second place prize and points, but the whole time all he could think about was Robin. There was something incredible about those three little kisses on the end of his text. Somehow casual, flippant, but deeply personal and full of sentiment that made Kieran’s heart warm. He’d never actually believed he would fall in love.

I have what Ralph and William have, Brian and Hayley too. I can’t believe I always thought love was boring.

You don’t have what they have, Kieran’s inner voice sounded smug, what you have is way more awesome.

*

“Here?”

“A bit more to the left.”

“Here?”

“Yup.”

Kieran put his foot on the spade and pushed through the grass and into the rich black top soil. The chalk underneath crunched against the blade.

“That’s as far as it goes,” Kieran frowned, “this is going to be a small house…”

“Kieran!” Hayley joined Robin in laughing at him.

“Hang on!” Robin’s camera snickered as he took the picture, “we’ve started.”

Kieran planted the spade and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. When Robin waved, the two diggers started moving in.

“So how long is it going to take?” Hayley held the leads of all the dogs, smiling broadly. Robin had said that they should invite people to watch them break the ground on the site, and Kieran hadn’t been able to think of anyone better. Brian was on babysitting duty, and Kieran and Hayley were going to meet him and little Harry in town.

“As long as the weather holds we should be laying foundations by the end of the week,” Robin spoke in the calm clipped tones of an architect. Kieran had noticed that whenever he talked about the house and the process of building it, his boyfriend got all concise and technical. Only when Robin talked about their life in the house did he become soft and romantic. “Most of the work is being done by hand, so it’s going to be slow going, but hopefully we’ll get something with a roof before the rain starts to come down. We should be in by Easter.”

“That’s next year!”

“Yes babe, building a house is not a task accomplished overnight,” Robin kissed his cheek, “now go take this nice lady out for lunch.”

“You want me to come pick you up later?” Kieran wrapped a sneaky arm around the little Sparrow, turning him to look beyond the bright yellow diggers to the two thickly leafed trees that had sheltered them as they christened the new land. Robin squirmed against him in a happy manner.

“The Kawasaki is getting awfully lonely these days…”

“I’m such a lucky bastard,” Kieran almost purred against Robin’s temple, “love you.”

Robin had explained, at length, about the amount of time it was going to take to build the house. He was a full time student, not a full time architect, and there were plenty of jobs that could not be completed on site without his presence. Kieran had spent hours having the blueprints talked over with him. They’re house was not going to look like a traditional house, and so it made sense that it wasn’t going to be built much like a traditional house either.

The foundations laid right onto the chalky bedrock were going to be limecrete, a substitute for concrete that took four times longer to cure and set, but actually trapped carbon dioxide as it did so. Kieran was proud of his quiet and unexpected intelligence, but even he had become lost in the chemistry of how this happened. Robin’s love of natural building substances had eliminated the need for water barriers, and the limecrete improved the drainage on top of the already porous chalk landscape. On top of that parts of the walls were going to be made of a larger version of the earth-filed tyre structure Kieran had practiced, but other sections, curves that would make up roofs and interior walls, were going to be laid in some sand filled tubular bag arrangement. Where the northwest slope met the exterior of the house they would blend, becoming a ‘green wall’ which would grow into the landscape around it, but the house would continue on into the land itself. Kieran was sort of intrigued by the idea of living in a cave, but Robin had been quick to dissuade him of any dramatic tendencies. The garage would be long and low, just the way Kieran liked it, and from the outside no one would even be able to guess its existence.

“Are you excited?”

“Yeah… of course.”

“You don’t sound too sure Kieran. What’s up?” Hayley smiled at him as they began to enter town. The dogs that had stood and strained gently but persistently at their leashes when Hayley held them now walked with Kieran in total calm, their leads hanging slack and useless from his fingers.

“It’s such a long time to wait to be able to live there.”

“Well, good things require patience,” Hayley knocked his shoulder with hers, “like having an awesome boyfriend.”

“It’s just that being back at home is a less attractive option right now.”

“Rebecca is still giving you guy’s grief?” Hayley sounded shocked, “I know Shastan loves her and everything, but really?”

“No, it’s just getting awkward to make out in the garden.”

Hayley slapped his bicep and grinned.

Since Rebecca had come home, she and Robin had stopped fighting. Kieran hadn’t listened to their conversation, deciding it was sometimes better not to know what was said about him behind closed doors, and she had been at least civil to him and tolerant of the dogs. Kieran mostly kept out of their way, but it was hard not to be jealous of Rebecca and Shastan snuggled up on the sofa together. Kieran didn’t so much care for television, and he’d rather be lying around on the big mattress, naked with Robin and playing adventure-books, reading, or losing badly at board games, but he missed the freedom they’d so enjoyed while their relatives had been away on honeymoon. Robin said time and time again that Rebecca had nothing against their relationship, but it didn’t stop her looking silent-but-disapproving when she walked in on them kissing over the kitchen counter. Robin didn’t like it either, and there was nothing to turn the little Sparrow off as quickly as the sudden appearance of his sister.

“Why don’t you just move onto the site?” Hayley slid into the seat beside her husband and son. Brian was persuading little Harry to eat by making aeroplane noises, his own grilled panini forgotten on the table.

Kieran ordered drinks and food with a little wave and a nod to the menu, the manager knew him by reputation and Brian had almost certainly said he would sign something when he got there. Sure enough sodas and coffee arrived with an autograph book into which one of his more recent press photos had been stuck. Kieran signed and dated it happily.

“Move onto the site? C’mon Hayley, you heard what Sparrow said. House isn’t gonna be ready for like, eight months.”

“How is the house?” Brian glanced at him quickly as Harry ate a slice of apple happily.

“Flat. The flippin’ foundation is gonna take four weeks to set, longer if it starts raining,” Kieran scowled, “I just never thought it would take this long to build a house when we can have as many people on site as we like. Personnel budgets aren’t exactly as issue.”

“Not every problem can be fixed with money Kier; you should know that by now.”

“I know, I know.” Kieran had spent all of two minutes trying to persuade his boyfriend of his point of view. Robin could oversee everything, but there was no need not to have as many people getting stuff done as possible. Unlike any other building project, this one didn’t have a budget, and Kieran could happily piss money away into a hole in the ground without it making the slightest impact on his financial standings for years if need be. Robin had simply kissed him, told him that house building was his thing, and having bought two and a half acres out of the blue, Kieran wasn’t allowed to splurge anymore. Defeated by logic and the smiles of the prettiest boy he’d ever known, Kieran had simply rolled over and let Robin have his way in more manners than one. “This one actually could be fixed with money though.”

They ate, Kieran held Harry on his knee before deciding that while the kids were great, babies were not so much fun, and handed the toddler over to his mother as Brian tapped his elbow.

“Ellison’s gonna be back for the TT Assen race.”

“He’s better?” Kieran grinned, it was always good news when rider’s got racing fit again, but then his face fell. “Does that mean I’m out?”

“No. Seriously Kieran, you’d forget how many points you had if I didn’t keep reminding you.”

“Um…”

“Oh Christ,” Brian sighed, “Never mind. No you’re not out, Mark smith wants to keep you on because you’re good, and you’re quick, and the sponsors like you even if you don’t like them. Ellison’s keen to meet you, he watched the last race and was impressed.”

“There are only three legs left,” Kieran mused, “he can’t catch up to the top ranks.”

“Doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try,” Brian nodded, “I want you up at the TT next week for training. You gonna be alright on the track?”

“Sure,” Kieran touched his fingers against his side under the cover of the table, fingering through the fabric of his shirt the scar where the chest tube had been inserted after he and MARS had fought so spectacularly, “I’ll be fine Brian.”

“You’re gonna have to go round that corner.”

“I know,” Kieran sighed heavily, “I know.”