Through the cheers and the overwhelming atmosphere, all I can hear, all I can see, all I want is him. Seeing him getting out of the car, the first thing he does is look at me with a gaze which goes right through me, sending ripples of longing through my spine.

And I know I want him, even though I shouldn’t.

Lost in an engulfing sea of red, I can hardly breathe as I’m congratulated by the rest of our team, who line the barriers alongside parc fermé but I’m hardly conscious of their presence. I try not to look at him too long, remembering the promises I made to myself because I know he makes me too weak to resist. But I do look, my eyes linger on their own accord and I feel guilty at my own powerlessness.

Managing to break free from their restrictive arms, I turn around and before I can stop myself I’m standing inches from him. Not that I even remember walking over, it’s like a dream sequence where I’m only an observer. I can’t see his expression, hidden underneath his helmet, but I don’t need to. I can see his eyes and they tell me more than words ever could. And for once, I wish they wouldn’t. I wish they were empty, void, full of anything but the striking passion I see, just so I didn’t feel so wretched and racked with guilt.

I feel so lost, standing here.

Ever since my return, it’s been uncertain. The boundaries moved, the goal posts shifted. Me trying to put space between us. He didn’t understand why. Looking at him now he still doesn’t. I couldn’t, and still can’t, tell him that we have to end it, that it’s over, even though he probably knows it, deep down. But he’s like me, hanging on to familiarity, praying for the second and third chances we all hope for in our lives. I know it’s wrong to lead him on like this, letting him think there’s something to save, but hell, I’m too confused to know what I want. No, that’s not true. I know exactly what I want but it’s wrong, we can’t continue like this any more.

I hide my nerves, my apprehension and my troubles for once; on this day my past selfishness can’t spoil it. This is his day and the delight and elation in his eyes makes me realise that I can’t ruin today with my fears. Today, in this moment at least, we’re in a different reality, one where we don’t have to make harsh decisions, where we don’t have to do what’s right, where we can follow our hearts and tomorrow is just another day on the calendar.

A time and place where consequence doesn’t exist.

I don’t resist when I feel his arms wrap around me, roughly pulling me closer. I know I should but it’s the last thing on my mind. For once we’re happy together, the months of bitching, of uneasy relations seem never to have happened, or at least belong to a distant past. He catches my gaze with those soulful eyes of his, a spark of something unpredictable flashes deep in their depths. But rather than take the warning my brain is giving me, I ignore it because I don’t want to break this embrace. Whether it’s the adrenaline still coursing through my veins from racing making me feel reckless or just the effect he has on me, I don’t care who’s watching us, don’t care if everyone knows about us.

Not that they do, I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping secrets, at hiding things from public view.

But reality must suddenly have kicked in because he carefully breaks away from me, and I inwardly moan from the loss of contact. With that he turns, but still holding my gaze, before walking to the crowd, whose raucous cheering drowns out the loud thud of my heart as I try to catch my breath and regain my composure. 

But I’m still flustered by the time we’re accosted by marshals and once in the weigh-bridge a wave of fatigue hits me as I slowly remove my helmet and balaclava. I don’t know why. Maybe, I’m still not up to my full strength after my recuperation, I don’t know.

Or maybe it’s something else entirely.

Caught in my own daydream, I feel a hand rest on my lower back, enough contact to send shivers through my body. Struggling to block out the sensations which threaten to overrun my mind, I swallow hard. I want to turn around but I know if I do I can’t be sure of my reaction. In the end, I don’t need to as he walks around to face me, standing only a couple of tantalising inches from me. He knows exactly what I’m thinking as he watches me cautiously glance around.

“No one’s watching,” he whispers, his low voice more alluring to me than usual, if that’s possible. I try to answer him but I can’t think of the words. My mind seems to have gone on vacation, leaving me with only my heightened senses to trust, which are all telling me to kiss the man in front of me.

Really stupid move, I tell myself as I fight the urge to do so, but unconvincingly. He can tell I’m struggling with my feelings and I know he’s not about to stop tormenting me.

“You always did lack spontaneity,” he grins, one of those wicked smiles of his but to my surprise he turns away, leaving to be weighed before me. Instinctively, I reach out and grab his arm and I meet his curious gaze.

“No, Eddie” I whisper back, my voice cracking slightly, “I’m just not a reckless bastard like you.”

He feigns shock and mock hurt before giving me a sly smile. “Maybe,” he answers, shrugging his shoulders and walking away, glancing back to acknowledge he knows I’m still staring after him. I have to say I’m relieved when he goes. I can’t handle the tension and I know that he knows I want him, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Bastard. I hate this, why am I letting him gain control? What’s different now?

The weighing in doesn’t take long and in a matter of minutes I’m standing near to the steps, around a corner, waiting to be lead up the podium when he finds me, leaning against the wall, staring at nothing in particular. I don’t need to look up to tell that he’s in front of me and I keep my gaze firmly at the floor, not daring to lift my eyes.

“Thanks Michael,”

The sound of his voice compels me to foolishly look up and meet his gaze. He must see the confusion etched on my face as he adds, “for today, the race. I appreciate it.”

I weakly smile back and simply nod, “No problem, you’ve done the same for me.” And I mean it, he’s given up a lot for me over the years and as much as it pains me, I’m not going to let jealousy get in the way of his dream today. But the striking sincerity in his voice and visible in his eyes knocks me back slightly. I haven’t heard him sound like that for ... longer than I care to remember.

“I guess,” he answers softly, but his voice now seems far away as he slightly turns his head towards the weigh-bridge as if something catches his attention. I ask him what’s wrong, but he shakes his head.

“Nothing, some problems with the weigh-bridge, I think.” Then he looks straight at me and takes a step closer towards me. “It could be a while yet,” he finishes, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

I should turn away, just make my excuses and leave before ... before I lose myself completely.

I should push him away.

I should tell him we have to end it right now.

But reason abandons me and for once I feel completely helpless in his presence. So, I do the only thing I can think of doing, the only thing that seems right. I pull him towards me, my arm tight around his waist while the other hand softly caresses his face. If he was surprised at my actions, he doesn’t show it, simply copying them, stroking the sensitive skin on my cheek and holding my gaze. I want him to kiss me, I need him. The sensation of his body pressed against mine is unbearable, teasing me, sending jolts of electricity through my nerves so much that it’s no longer a want but a physical need of him which has taken over.

I want to tell him everything and nothing.

I want him to look deep into my eyes and for him to see how I feel, how I’ve always felt, regardless of our differences, our problems. I’ve always been able to read his emotions and his thoughts but I’ve never let him do the same, never opened myself up as completely and as readily as he did to me.

And it’s strange. Out of all the thoughts I could have, the only think I can think of is his piercing blue eyes. Funny, I’d always thought they were a deep shade of emerald but now they’re sparkling intensely blue, dark, rich and overpowering.

But voices from the other side of the garage force me to awaken from my trance-like state, albeit only marginally.

“They can’t see us here,” he reassures me, seeing the anxiety in my face, and the sound of his voice is enough to make me trust his judgement, even if the close presence of others isn’t exactly the main cause of my anxiety. And then he says those words I wished he wouldn’t say; the words which I can’t deny I want to use but I know I shouldn’t.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer and envelopes my lips in a kiss that I’ve been waiting for my whole life, almost. The past few months without him melt away into nothing and I’m helpless to fight back as the sole voice of reason. Before, perhaps, I wouldn’t have been so receptive of his advances. Hell, I would have pushed him back, made him wait, made him beg and then, only then, would I have succumbed to his pleas, taking pleasure in his submission. Always in control.

But now I’m unable to prevent his fingers running through my hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, his hands doing to same over my body. I gasp for air when his lips finally break from mine and my head falls back against the wall on its own volition. A smooth hand pulls back the velcro around my neck and, with his head nestled on my shoulder, his lips begin to kiss the sensitive skin there. Not like the kiss he gave my lips but harder, more brutal, more demanding.

More in control.

If I were in control of my senses and fully realised the fact that any second we could be caught, I might have struggled. Try to break away from the lean body pressed hard against my own but right now nothing else matters apart from this. To hell with reason. Lips clash once again, this time with a sense of urgency. His hands lingering around my waist. The firm rhythmic movements of his groin against mine as he deepens the kiss enough to arouse me beyond bear, eliciting an uncontrollable groan from deep in my throat as my arms stay tightly wrapped around his neck.

I don’t know when I closed my eyes but they flutter open at the whispered command in my ear. I turn my head to meet his face, smiling at me, his head resting on my shoulder, his eyes sparkling so much that they make my head spin, and seducing me mercilessly. To my disappointment though, he untangles his arms from mine and gently pulls me from the wall.

“We better not keep them waiting,” he grins.

I can’t remember the podium; the crowd, the noise, the celebration. It seems an unreal ... blur, everything too hazy - faceless figures, indistinguishable noises. It’s as if I’m drunk, completely and utterly, surrendering to my senses and the sound of his voice echoing through my mind like a haunting melody from which I can’t shake free. I surprise myself at my coherent answers in the press conference, trying my best to suppress anything other than my total professionalism. But I can’t escape my over-riding feelings for long. After what seems an age the questions and cameras stop and, still drunk on adrenaline and lust, I allow myself to be led back out into the open air.

I soon come back down to earth, the solitary surroundings of my plush hotel room a more sobering influence than the emotional strains of the pitlane, and now I’m kicking myself at my behaviour, letting him gain the upper hand like that. Christ, anyone could have seen us! Stupid, stupid move. 

And yet why do I feel so dejected now?

The shower’s icy cold, waking up my dulled senses from the champagne on the podium. But rather than clearing my head and calming me down, hell, I still feel as messed up as before. My thoughts can’t help flicking back to him, leading me back to the garage by the arm, pressing my helpless body against the cold garage wall. His relentless teasing of my senses as his fingers lightly dance across my skin and his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. I guess I should have felt relief when he was dragged away to chat to the customary hoards of journalists swarming the pit lane, allowing me to slip back to my hotel away from temptation. But not even in the private confines of my room can I get him out of my mind. While the deliciously cool shower may wash away the traces of champagne it does little to quell the longing for his kiss.

Lazily, I lean over an grab the nearest towel and, stepping out of the shower, I wrap it around my waist. The air feels hot and humid despite the balcony doors being wide open. I sigh with mild annoyance and shake my head, cold droplets of water run down my back. The air conditioning still hasn’t been fixed and I’m supposed to just melt in the heat here, I think to myself. I remember I’m supposed to be meeting Jean to discuss how I’m holding up but, to be honest, I’m not in the mood and I idly toy with the idea of just collapsing on the bed and watching television. Stepping out of the bathroom into the bedroom, I freeze in mid-step.

“You didn’t answer the door and it was unlocked. I figured you’d be in,” I see him giving me a lingering glance and a wry smile passes his lips as he lies casually on the bed. I want to say something but I choke as suddenly all those feelings I tried to banish come flooding back. Biting my bottom lip nervously I cross my arms defensively, “I see you’ve made yourself at home,” I answer, challengingly. The wry smile on his features breaks out into a grin as he leans back further, letting me know that he’s checking out every inch of my semi-naked body. ‘Bastard,’ I think to myself, ‘he knows exactly what he’s doing and, god, he’s enjoying every minute of it.’ I know I should diffuse the tension, maybe just dismiss him like I’d normally do, but I know I don’t want to. Before I can figure out how to tell him we can’t go on he’s perched on the end of the bed coaxing me over and gesturing me to sit down next to him. And I’m helpless to resist.

The faint aroma of aftershave fills my senses adding to my general feeling of dizziness as I sit beside him, our eyes locking in an intense gaze. After what seems an age, he gives me a loving smile and gently strokes my cheek, “Do you ever think about the future?” he asks me. I admit, I’m rather surprised at the question. Perhaps because it's coming from him. I vaguely nod but he seems to caught up in his thoughts to notice. “I don’t,” he drops his head breaking our eye contact and allowing his hand to gently caress my chest. “I don’t because, because I’m too scared I’ll see something I won’t like.” His hand works down my chest sending shivers up my spine as he loosen the towel around my waist. “I can’t say what’s gonna happen next year ... to us but ...” his caress causes me to gasp as his hand travels up my thigh, teasing and arousing me beyond bear, as his lips roughly take mine in a searing kiss. I struggle to catch my breath when he finally breaks from me and shakes his head, “I guess all we can do is live for the moment and what happens, happens.” His voice is little more than a whisper and instinctively I reach out to pull him back closer. He smiles at me as I wrap my arms around him and let him rest gently on my shoulder, partly because I know I can’t look him in the eye and give him the answer he really wants – that we have a future together despite our imminent separation. Somewhere locked in the dark recesses of my mind is the awful truth that this is probably our last night together.

“I meant what I said at the track, you know,” he whispers in my ear, his lips lightly dancing across sensitive skin and bringing me back from my thoughts, “I love you,” he murmurs softly and before my brain can stop me I tell him the same. As soon as I utter those words, I realise what I’ve done, how now I’m going to put him through the pain I thought I could spare him from, even though I’ve wanted to tell him that for longer than I care to think. I see his deep blue eyes light up at the words, and I can read the hungry desire in them as easily as he can probably see in mine.

“You don’t know how much today meant to me,” he begins, but surprisingly he breaks away from my hold. Two piercing eyes seem to go straight through me as he leans forward, lightly brushing my lips with his tongue before engulfing them in another demanding kiss. Needing him more than ever I try to pull him back to me but he surprises me again by resisting my hold, “Patience,” the husky tone of his voice is enough to make me want to push him back against the bed and take him then and there.

My shaking hands work at the buttons of an expensive black shirt as I greedily devour his lips and this time he yields to my demands, responding with the same ferocity, his hands dwelling on my thighs sending pulses of electricity through my nerves as he strokes my rigid member. Involuntarily, a moan escapes my lips as I feel his mouth relinquish mine. My eyes flicker open to meet his, burning blue fire into mine, “I said patience,” he murmurs, holding my gaze and before I can resist he slips out of my grasp and off the bed on to his knees, gently pulling me forward to meet his lips, “I want to show you,” he whispers, breathless and aroused, “I want to show you how much today means to me, to thank you for everything.”

My eyes flicker closed, a groan of pleasure escaping my lips when he takes my erection into his mouth, teasing the sensitive tip with talented flicks of his tongue. My fingers, stroking and running through his hair, soon tighten around the strands as I beg him to continue, my voice barely a whisper compared against the thud of my racing heartbeat. Tightening my grip I pull him closer, moaning out loud when he slides my throbbing cock down this throat. Clumsily, my hands try to peel off his shirt, my head resting on his shoulder, my lips whispering breathless pleas in-between roughly kissing his neck. I can’t trust myself to open my eyes, knowing full well that I’ll come immediately at the sight of him down on me. I know I shouldn’t let this happen but even after what’s happened before between us I still have an almost dangerous need for him, want him like the lover he used to be to me before everything became messed up and wrong.

“Eddie, please,” I moan, my voice thick with approaching orgasm, “fuck me now.” But my begs goes unheeded, instead I feel him simply suck on me harder, one hand tracing a path up my thigh while fingers tease my swollen erection, forcing me to the point of climax before ruthlessly claiming me. His name escapes my lips as little more than a gasp as I let myself come, his tongue greedily devouring my now spent cock, swallowing its warm salty liquid.

When I finally open my eyes they meet his, and a soft smile graces his flushed face, “Didn’t I say patience?” he says, still on his knees. He doesn’t move while my fingers trace the outline of his face, resting gently on his bruised bottom lip, simply smiles and holds my gaze. But he then leans closer, kissing me violently, until I’m pressed back against the bed, his tongue sliding deftly down my throat. Hands fumble with his black jeans until we’re both intertwined, my legs wrap tightly around his now naked body, groins moving together, hardening unbearably with every touch. My own erection returns even harder at the sensation of his against mine and my whole body throbs in our embrace.

Pulling off me, his eyes lock to mine, and I can’t remember ever seeing anything as arousing as him now straddling my waist, tracing the familiar contours of my chest. “Now,” he breathlessly says, “now I’ll fuck you.”

But before he has chance to resist, I roughly grab his shoulders, forcing him against the bed. He lets out a cry of surprise, quickly stifled by my tongue as I claim his mouth, and I feel him immediately yield under my touch. “No,” my voice is low and husky and I can see him swallow hard as I allow my hand to travel down his chest, lingering on his aching cock before sliding underneath his ass. His legs part in anticipation and I think I see his silently mouth the word ‘please.’ “No,” I repeat, “now I fuck you.”

I had the power to stop this. I could have prevented it from getting this far, from waking up this morning with the one person I truly want in my arms, from spending one last night locked in his embrace, drowning in his kisses as we made love. As if we both knew we would never have this precious chance again. And now I lie here, the sun beginning to stream through the window of another new day, my sleepless night becoming a restless day and I know as soon as he wakes up and leaves this bed and my embrace, he’ll never be back.

I wonder if he realises that?

I wonder if his sleep is peaceful, as untroubled as mine is tortured? As I watch him sleep, gently brushing back his tousled hair from his face, he looks beautiful, innocent almost, and it’s killing me because I know I don’t want to let him go but I have to.

“Michael?” A voice, thick with sleep, snaps me back into reality.

“Mmm?” I reply, wrapping my arms around his waist, gently pulling him against me.

“Can’t sleep.” It seems like a statement rather than a question and when I don’t answer he turns over to face me, catching my lips in his in a kiss I wish would never end.

“Try.”

~ The End.