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The Beach Boys' odes to Californian beauty greeted Garthe's family as the trio entered the local burger joint. The quaint parking lot was bustling with music from Garthe's childhood among the throng of lively folks keen to show off their classic or vintage cars. All were showroom ready, hoods up for curious onlookers to espy. It was here KARR ambled towards with a smugness to his gait as their son trailed very close behind, mindful to not leave his daddies' sides.
The laid back atmosphere left the toddler in jovial spirits as he followed after KARR's example when the older Pontiac found a spot between an older Shelby Cobra and an Oldsmobile. KING did not terry as he too reversed neatly in the gap his father left, primly aligning himself to show as much pride as papa was showing with his higher frame over his wheels. He knew his papa loved to show off for daddy, but the tyke also knew KARR had a vain streak at all these gatherings as he permitted people to look in open awe upon his grandeur. Nevermind the kick Garthe got out of the younger kids with their gobsmacked drool over the neatly waxed black coat.
"You think we'll win this one, babe?" KING overheard his daddy ask as he exited KARR's beaming cabin.
"Dearest. Do not tease, it does not become you."
KING silently agreed. Of course papa would win! He was the prettiest car here! Bar none. What could these other cars do that his papa could not? His papa was the best!
"KING seems to think you will win," Garthe chuckled, hand settling atop his son's hood in a loving pat.
"Want a burger little man?"
The smaller Trans Am wiggled excitedly, but stilled himself to mind his manners. He remembered the rules here. When they went to the car show KING had to play still and not move. It was a hard game. But he loved his rewards, and especially when his daddy pet him and told him how good he was. Sometimes he brought juice and let KING sip it while they played.
"Here? Aren't you worried--?"
"Nah," the man chuckled, other hand settling atop KARR's driver side door to comfort him. "He is a fuel alternative experimental car. That was our wing last time."
"I recall," KARR replied, sounding dubious as to Garthe's ruse.
"Kid's hungry. We drove pretty far out this time. You're hungry right buddy?"
KING had to agree, it was such a long run. The younger Pontiac nodded his frame at Garthe.
"Good. Me too," the brunet winked to his son. "A couple of burgers, beer for me and one for you?"
Here Garthe pointed at KING in askance. A tease for sure, but KING vehemently shook his hood. That was adult juice! He wasn't allowed to have that yet. It smelled funny anyways.
KARR huffed beside the two, a mild threat as he settled his golden sensor upon Garthe. He made an incredulous thrum.
"Dearest..."
"I'm joking. I'm gonna see if they got any juice for him." The brunet waved off the threat as he stood up, patting both of the Pontiacs before he left to grab some grub. He stopped shy of departing their bubble to turn to KARR, "Want anything?"
There was a pause, leaving Garthe wondering if maybe that would be a no. Then, "Let me have some of your fries if you do not mind."
"Of course," this time a flirty wink as he left. As the man made his way past rows of other participants, some stopped to greet him, wisened faces from other meetings eager to welcome Garthe back for another meetup. Some stopped him to ask about his Pontiac, and “How did he get such a small custom Trans Am?” Some already wanted to offer money, teasingly or otherwise, for either cars. Garthe waved them off at each offer, continuing to get inside the establishment to sign in as much as to grab a meal.
This left father and son alone to wait. KARR noted the owners of the cars beside them were still unaccompanied. Scanning around to ensure their isolation, KARR bent low to nuzzle the front fender of his son lovingly.
"You are doing so well dear."
KING thrummed with energy at that, quick to return an enthusiastic hug back to his dad. He silently thanked him as he snuggled close. Though he stilled upon hearing footsteps come their way; the owners had returned.
"Now ain't that a cutie," the one man turned to an older male beside him. "I wonder if that one is a toy," the man pointed to KING. Still unmoving the tyke felt a surge of pride at being noticed.
"It's cute but check out the full sized mother one."
"Mother?"
"I don't know Dave." The older man shrugged as he set about going to the back of his Oldsmobile. "That toy one is literally a quarter of the other one's size like I see in them mares and ponies."
Dave nodded thoughtfully at this as he too rummaged about the trunk of his Cobra. Curiosity got the better of KING as he let his emerald scanner settle on each man at a time as either pulled out a lawn chair from their respective vehicles. As both men set them out to sit, the younger male, designated Dave, stopped.
"It's looking at me!"
Startled, KING stilled his sensor to oscillate casually back and forth to disguise his motions.
"It's probably a security feature, Dave. Calm down. You been playing with that old Shelby too much. Most cars today got them Bluetooth speakers. This guy probably just modified his old Firebirds to do that."
Dave was unconvinced as he took his seat, wary eye on KING now.
KARR wished he could console his son, assure him he was not in trouble, so he set up a direct channel into the other's cabin to comfort the younger model.
"It's okay baby. We are fine."
KING mutedly chuffed.
Dave blinked but the older male said nothing as he pulled out a sudoku book from his pocket, licking a finger to puruse the pages to a puzzle he wanted to take on. The puzzles drew KING's oculus once more, piquing his interest. He loved all sorts of games.
"Hardy." Dave spoke up, pulling out his own entertainment in the form of a magazine.
Hardy hummed, eyes peering through his spectacles at his puzzle still.
"I think these are them cars by that one guy."
Hardy knotted his brows together like a scowling bulldog. "Dave I have no idea who you are referring to."
"That Knight fella. Er, one of them. 'Hear there was another. Think they're twins or somethin'."
Hardy blinked. "Only Knight I know is that Michael feller. Sweet man. Odd, but nice."
"Michael?" This time Dave squinted his eyes with incredulousness. "I only saw that one. The older one."
"Who?" Hardy returned his gaze to his book, set upon finishing his puzzle in peace while listening.
"I wish they could all be California girls..." Crooned over the speakers up by the diner, children giggled as adults prattled on this or that.
KING was beside himself abuzz with curiosity as much as excitement then. His uncle was so cool!! Was uncle Michael here? Was uncle KITT!?
His excitement almost had the tot moving about his springs. KARR thrummed in amusement, gently coaxing his son to calm down through their connection link.
"Easy son. I don't think your uncles are here this time."
KING almost sagged on his springs at this, drawing a nervous eye from Dave. Hardy said nothing nor even looked up.
"But," KARR was quick to add, "Next time I will have your father call to schedule for us all to be at a show, ok?"
These were acceptable parameters KING felt. He consented with a muted chuff.
"Good. I believe your father is coming back with food perhaps."
True to his words, KING found his visual receptors singling out Garthe from the crowd of other humans. Not a tricky feat when your dad was as tall as a tree, but it helped that KING had a genetic signature system that helped pinpoint his father's image in any scenario. Even better, the Trans Am noticed his father's arms laden with food. Good!
Dave heard another approaching, long shadow casting over his magazine with a pretty lady on the page. He blinked with wide eyed wonder. "That's him," the man all but choked.
Hardy jerked his head up, bulldog face regarding the person in question that Dave was referring to.
"That the other Knight?"
Garthe traded staring between the men as he set his food atop KARR's hood to keep warm. "Did I miss something?"
"You're that other Knight brother he says," Hardy provided as Dave still had not yet found his voice again outside odd noises from his throat.
Not up to correcting them fully, Garthe just politely extended his hand to shake with Hardy. "Name's Garthe Knight. Anything outside that I am unsure what you know."
"Nice to meet ya Mr Knight. Only ever met the other--but damn you two look alike! Just like your cars. 'Cept his was a full black T top. You customize yours for that color?"
"Something like that," Garthe said, settling atop KARR's hood, arms crossed but a friendly smile in his gaze.
KARR thrummed silently, heating his hood some to at least touch his beloved. That and perhaps keep their son's prize warm.
"Gotta ask though," Dave managed to find his voice at last, a conspiratory look about him as he ducked forward while he sat in his seat. "What's with the toy car?"
"Oh this fella?" Garthe tried to hide his sheepishness at introducing his son. "Not a toy. Just a special project I worked on for 12 months." Blue eyes settled upon KARR kindly.
"Neat project. What does it do?"
"Oh a bit of this and that. Still tinkering with the system," Garthe waved off vaguely as he noted his son regarding him intensely. Not wishing to be cruel, Garthe turned to the basket he had atop KARR with its juicy burger. He tore at it to make into small chunks, substituting his usual cutting up with a knife.
Both Hardy and Dave regarded this motion with concern. Garthe ignored them. Looking for something to add, Hardy asked, "How long you had your, uh, well, both of these cars?"
"Some years now," the brunet admitted, a blissful look crossing his eyes, a calm sea after a tumultuous tempest. Content at the sizes of the food chunks, Garthe slid off KARR's sleek hood to walk behind KING, chunks of the burger in tow. The younger Pontiac squeaked quietly in happiness.
Both Dave and Hardy looked up.
"Just a program setting up." Garthe brushed off casually. Both men look unconvinced as they continued to watch his movements. This made KING nervous. He wasn't allowed to be noisy in front of strangers. Daddy said it could be bad if someone heard him.
Sensing this discomfort, Garthe tried to bite the bullet. "I have a special converter system set up for his fueling. I tend to throw in junk food." A lie. "The grease helps fuel the tank and other carbohydrates break down to make an alternative oil source to keep the engine turning." The truth.
Here the men looked to Garthe in wide eyed wonder. "You did that?" Each asked.
"Oh yeah. It's experimental of course but it is a fun project."
"You could make a fortune!" Dave yelped. Privately Garthe chuckled as he gently tapped the concealed fuel tank his son had. KING obliged, happy to not be looked at as much. He even got an extra pat from daddy before he dropped in the pieces one at a time for him to consume. He even got a couple of his dad's fries snuck in!
"You thinking about paten'ing it?"
"Nah." Garthe chuckled. "Just a shits and giggles project. And no he gets just enough," he quickly threw in as Hardy inhaled to start his own litany of inquiry.
So in this vein Garthe went. Dropping chunk by chunk into KING's fueling port until the little car had his fill, meanwhile Garthe gave just vague enough answers to curtail any too intrusive line of questioning. For everyone's sake. KING took this in stride as he kept eating, loving his early reward. As he munched away he let his gaze wander once more, looking about the competition. He loved to look around as he munched away, his oculus focusing on each various car, detailing their specs as well as measuring their prospects of victory. KING was pleased to report none stood even a decimal percentage of a chance with his papa here. The idea made him smile while his daddy left briefly to grab his juice, also among the food left with KARR. It was apple! KING wiggled his tires ever so slightly at having his favorite juice, making his daddy smile warmly at him. He sipped it down easily as Garthe measured the proportion of how much he poured into the tank.
Today was already the best day, King had decided, letting his eyes roam with childlike wonder to all that was around him. Garthe patted at the spoiler lovingly before collecting the now empty tray and juice container. He always made sure to feed his son first before he settled to eat. Only once the youth was well fueled and sated did Garthe turn to his own burger and fries, mindful to not devour them all, lest he sour his beloved.
Garthe settled against the tail end of his lover then, in place of properly sitting anywhere else, sneaking in fries when he could. KARR approved of the thoughtfulness on both his account as much as his son, as he was given his own surreptitious bites. Their onlookers noticed, sadly, revealing Garthe losing at his shifty craft of sneaking.
“Just like its mom,” Dave said aloud in wonderment. Hardy rolled his eyes but relented in asking, “Both cars work the same?”
Garthe cut a grin across his lips to combat the warmth spreading there, camping out with some discomfort. He tried not to bare his fangs too protectively in regards to his family. It was hard enough just hiding Goliath, as titanous as the brute was. Hiding his son or his lover was its own matter.
“Something like that,” He repeated, making a point to chomp at his burger in place of continuing.
Then he realized what was said, he swallowed to ask, “Mother?”
The larger Trans Am subtly thrummed against his human’s backside in warning. He knew a tease was there in place of the true query.
Hardy once more spoke in place of the gaping Dave, “‘Says your cars are like horses are. Too much time around his Shelby I think.” This last bit was a gruffed chuckle.
Not missing a beat, the grin on Garthe’s mouth became less canid, far more genuine. “Mom and son? I guess. I can see that.” He was threading a thin line now. If KARR could emulate it he would roll his eyes, but instead he settled for listening to the nonsensical chatter of the crowd around them, their low murmurs like a calm ambiance from their little corner.
“Probably more father and son,” Garthe corrected, teeth burrowing into the last chunk of his meaty meal. This set Dave and Hardy at ease, thinking on the traditions of fathers with their boys at car shows or cruise-ins, time honored traditions passed down the masculine line. This at last threw off further questions save the passing of other short topics between men, leaving the family out of the spotlight.
KING settled on his wheels contentedly, full belly, the thrum of the crowd now lulling him sleepily. He felt a soft rub along his side, noticed it was Garthe, then lulled off to a nap. His dads would wake him when the show was over.
KARR noticed, yearning deeply to nuzzle his son with warm wishes with paternal duty, but settled in place. Garthe gave another stroke in place of what KARR could not. The grayscale interior of the cabin alit in gratitude unspoken.
Indeed, the traditions of fathers and sons continued as the family settled quietly to await the judges. Dave returned to his magazine with Hardy going back to his puzzles, the pair in amiable silence while Garthe mindlessly stroked over KARR’s back side with tenderness, eyes watching over KING as he obviously fell asleep. The man wished they were alone so that he could talk freely with KARR about everything, about nothing, about the things they always did in the peace of their own privacy. In a world all their own. Deciding what was best for their son, what Goliath might need help with, while also coming up with ways to include him in more things. Endless matters that stacked upon the duo as much as with any family with responsible parents. For now, he savored their world all their own, even in the jovial crowd of onlookers or croons about Californian beaches.
"We always take my car 'cause it's never been beat..." The loudspeaker sang on, Garthe happily unaware of the passing gasps or wandering eyes over his family.