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“Yeah… the best.”
Aluminum walls passed by in a blur. He could barely hear his footsteps clank against the metal floor over the sound of his own thoughts. He didn’t pass anyone on his way down to his bike. When he entered the open space, the smell of gasoline and the endless ceiling, roads curving upward into darkness, didn’t capture his attention like it always did. He cast a glance around, hoping the place would be empty. It was empty as far as he could tell. He grabbed his helmet off the shelf and headed toward his bike.
He longed for fresh air so badly that the thick, metallic air was stifling. With a pang he thought of the ocean, of the rhythmic waves and the sun on his skin.
“Going somewhere?”
Surprise gripped him as he turned to see Wylde only a few yards away, leaning against the open driver’s side of Spine Buster. He was half-sitting, tinkering with the wheel, but he drew his hands away as his attention shifted to Vert.
“What do you care?” Vert asked, the words coming out more poisonous than he’d meant.
Wylde smirked and rose to his full height. He closed the door behind him. “Not sure how far you’ll get without a car. How many is that, now, three?”
Anger bubbled up inside Vert. He felt a tug towards his bike. Just go. But a thought shot straight through his mind and came out of his mouth before he could think.
“You know you’re only here ‘cause of me.” He was a few steps closer now.
“That’s what you think, huh?” Wylde’s face didn’t change as he stepped away from Spine Buster. Little spikes of anxiety pierced Vert’s chest as Wylde stepped right up close to him. Wylde was taller, bigger, looked like he could punch a hole in a concrete wall. Vert didn’t care.
“I only picked you because I had no other choice.”
Just a flicker of movement. Then the air was slammed from Vert’s lungs and he was stumbling backwards. His helmet was gone, rolling across the floor. He came up, fists raised, body shot with adrenaline.
Wylde took a few leisurely steps forward. He practically laughed as he said, “Oh, I wish the rest of the Teku could see this.”
Vert hadn’t meant for it to come to this. Wylde probably knew that. But now he was in this mess and he had to get out of it. He discarded his jacket.
Wylde lunged again and this time Vert was ready. He stood his ground as the two grappled, fighting for ground. Vert’s cheek pressed against Wylde’s bare shoulder, his body on fire everywhere they met.
Vert used all his force to throw Wylde off of him, the other man only stumbling a few feet aside, but Vert was impressed just to have moved him.
His victory was short-lived. Fuck Wylde and his stupid grin, like this was all funny to him.
Vert lunged but Wylde grabbed him and slung an arm around his neck. Vert clawed uselessly at the muscular arm that held him prisoner.
Wylde shoved Vert face-first against Spine Buster, hands around his wrists, bodies pressed together. Vert squirmed, tried to break free, but Wylde crushed him against the vehicle.
Wylde laughed, his breath hot on Vert’s ear. “I needed you back then,” he whispered. “Looks like it might be the other way around, now.”
Now, Vert fought just to breathe. He didn’t believe it when he felt the pressure ease. Like Wylde was leaning back. Vert picked up his struggle, pushing himself away from the car, but Wylde shoved him back in place.
“You want some more?”
No. He couldn’t even move. He sucked in a mouthful of that thick, garage air and wanted out. He didn’t care if he’d lost this. He didn’t care that he looked ridiculous. What was one embarrassment on top of three more?
Vert slumped against the vehicle, watched his breath fog up the paint. He shifted a little, just enough to plant his feet on the floor.
Just enough for him to brush against something between him and Wylde. Probably one of the many belt buckles the other man wore. But no, a belt buckle didn’t pulse, not last Vert checked.
Wylde released Vert’s wrists and stepped away from him, his overwhelming body heat gone. Vert got his footing and stood there, catching his breath, hands still on Spine Buster. There was anger, there was adrenaline, there was embarrassment, but there was another feeling rattling around in there, too.
“Hey, paws off the car, Teku,” Wylde said in his usual tone, as if nothing had happened.
Vert turned away, didn’t look at Wylde as he grabbed his helmet and his jacket off the floor. His footsteps were deafening in the silence that followed. He forced himself not to walk too fast, but the journey to his bike on the other side of the garage felt like an eternity. Relief washed over him when he heard the familiar clang of tools behind him. At least Wylde’s attention wasn’t on him anymore.
Vert sped from the Acceledrome, the wind ripping through his jacket and his hair. The false cavern wall disappeared and the night opened up before him. The familiar hum of his bike on the ground--the real world--kept him present. But even once the Acceledrome was out of sight, Vert’s thoughts drifted back to the realms, the races, his cars.
Wylde. Just what exactly had happened between them. And why the thought sent a bolt of excitement through him.