Work Text:
The sleek black machine flew down the deserted stretch of roadway. Perched on it were two young men. All three blended together in a perfect melding of leather, denim, muscle and steel. Two matching pairs of black leather boots shared the single set of pegs. If you looked closely you could see where the second set of pegs belonged and a slight but unmistakably fresh scratch from when they had been removed that morning.
The motorcycle slowed as it flew up on a cross street. At the last moment the driver slammed on the brakes a bit harder than was absolutely necessary causing his passenger to be pressed tighter against him. The smirk on his face immediately dispelled any illusions that he had misjudged the stopping power of the machine under him. One set of booted legs slid off the pegs allowing the driver to balance as he checked for traffic. When he was sure the way was clear his hand twisted the throttle and they were off again. His booted feet in their knee length boots lifting off the ground and settling back on the pegs.
The passenger made room for them then shifted in to pin the long lean legs encased in painted on jeans, soft from repeated wear, against the side of the bike. His body stretched out the length of the driver’s from his groin to where his chin rested on the other man’s shoulder. The bike slid into a turn and the driver reveled in her responsiveness. Leaning into the curve he felt the body behind him move in time. He pretended not to notice as strong hands slowly slipped down from under his rib cage to rest on his legs, fingertips lightly pressing against his hipbones.
Another cross street, another sudden stop. The driver taking advantage of settleing his feet on the pegs to press himself back against his passenger just a bit more. The hint of a moan echoing inside his helmet then lost to the wind tearing past them. His passenger’s eyes slid closed briefly as his breathing sped up with the contact. It took all his self-control to not thrust forward. Aching need coiled in his stomach and he longed to give in to it. The bike slowed and men and machine made a graceful turn as one entity into a heavily wooded area.
One more turn and they leisurely bumped down a dirt road that dead-ended in a deserted and somewhat over run picnic area. The bike rolled to a stop and both men sat, unmoving, each trying to get his body under control. After a moment the driver lifted himself off the bike and pulled it up and backwards so that it rested securely on the double kickstand. He pulled the keys from the ignition and stuffed them into the pocket of his black leather jacket.
The driver dismounted then turned around and rested a hand on his passenger’s shoulder, an unspoken request to remain where he was. With practiced ease he straddled the bike, his eyes locking onto smoldering blue ones through two pieces of plastic shielding. He took the man’s hands from where they rested on his thighs and put them on the straps to his helmet. His own hands then went to his passenger’s and after a brief struggle they were both free of the restrictive headgear. Helmets dangled on either side of the bike as the two continued to look deep into each other’s eyes.
“What did you think of her?” The blond finally asked, his voice husky with emotion and barely controlled desire.
The darker haired man smiled softly and tilted his head a bit to the side. “She is a wonderful machine. Powerful, responsive and a fantastic ride.” He slid off the bike with sinuous grace then tossed off “much like her owner I suspect” over his shoulder causing a wide grin to steal over the bemused blond’s face.