Racing the Sky

by Layla Dorine

  “I’m sorry,” Terry offered, shoulders slumped.

  “You can take your ‘sorry’ and shove it up your ass!” Nicky yelled.

  Vic came into the room like a freight train and nearly barreled into Terry, shoving the box he carried into Terry’s arms so hard it drove the air out of him. Terry gasped and gripped the box tight. Vic grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, forcefully propelling him toward the door.

  “Say one more word and I’ll kick your ass,” Vic hissed beneath his breath as he all but heaved Terry out the door.

  In a daze, Terry loaded the boxes into the truck, his thoughts on Nicky and the anger in his voice. This Nicky was so different from the one Terry had known for so long. It shocked him to discover how much it hurt to see the laughing, smiling, devil-may-care grin gone. Worse to know that he was the cause of it.

  Once the boxes were loaded, he headed with Vic to the garage to get the bike parts. They’d had so many plans about what they wanted to build. The perfect bike. They’d even drawn up designs and carefully detailed each part in a long list that they’d adjusted over the years.

  Now Terry loaded some of those parts in boxes, feeling none of the old excitement when he touched them. He’d take them home and put them in the shed, and if Nicky didn’t want them back, then at some point, he’d probably just sell. There was no way he’d ever get it built without Nicky. Besides, after the inquiry he doubted he’d ever race again, so what would be the point?

  For the first time, he started to realize the depth of the damage he’d caused. The destruction of not just his own dreams, but Nicky’s too. It was almost enough to drive him from the garage then and there, but he stayed and helped carry the frames to the truck.

  “Vic,” Terry began, hands coming up as Vic whirled around to face him.

  “Shut. Up,” Vic growled.

  “No,” Terry said, keeping his distance. “Listen. I just… Nicky doesn’t sound like himself right now, and giving all of this away, it’s… it’s not like him. I’m worried.”

  “Worried?” Vic sputtered, taking a step toward Terry with fury in his eyes. “Now you’re worried? Why the fuck couldn’t you worry about him before you hit him!”

  The fury in Vic’s voice was like a punch to the ribs, and Terry was afraid a fist was coming next. Lights came on, and Terry found himself actually hoping one of the neighbors called the cops, because at least there would be someone to pull Vic off of him.

  “You caused this,” Vic hissed. “Your jealousy did this. You just couldn’t stand for him to be better at something than you were. You just had to take it away, even knowing that Nicky had so little compared to you and me.”

  “He had us; that should have been enough. He didn’t need the sponsorship. I would have taken care of everything for both of us.”

  “Did you ever once think that maybe he wanted to take care of himself? Earn something that was just his?”

  Terry hung his head. He’d never considered it.

  “For you those dirt bikes and races were a way to show off and be the center of attention. To Nicky, they were a connection to the father he lost. Just because you shared a passion doesn’t mean you were in it for the same reasons.”

  “Then why the hell did he push so hard?”

  “You’d push hard too, trying to prove yourself to a ghost,” Vic pointed out, shaking his head at Terry. “I never understood how he could be so into you when the only one you were into was yourself.”

  “Did you think he should have been more into you?” Terry shot back “I noticed! For years I saw how you watched him. You called yourself my friend and all the while you were lusting after my boyfriend.”

  “I was your friend, which is why I never told Nicky how I felt. Now I wish I had. Maybe I could have gotten him the hell away from you sooner, before you broke him.”

  And there it was. Head bowed, Terry could only stand there with the words echoing in his mind. Nicky was broken, and Terry had done it. There was no disputing those facts, or changing them, or fixing anything. Numb, Terry climbed into his truck and shoved the key in the ignition. Vic slammed the door, separating them by more than metal and glass. He turned, walked back to the house, and disappeared inside before Terry could even consider rolling down the window to apologize. Terry pulled away, snapping off the radio before he’d gotten half a block. He turned the truck toward home, then said fuck it and switched directions, heading for his favorite bar to drown himself in beer and self-loathing.

  Chapter Nine

  Terry groaned and pushed at the heavy weight against his side as he wrestled for control of the pillow, finally grasping it and pulling it over his head. After being awake half the night, thinking about Nicky and hearing the venom in his voice echoing around in his mind, Terry was in no mood for Dirk’s cover snatching, pillow hogging ways. Nor was he in the mood to be crowded, which was exactly what Dirk seemed to do every morning, whether Terry wanted him to or not. Right now Terry was miserably wishing he were back with Nicky, who’d known better than to try to crowd and cuddle him.

  “Hrummph, come on, Terry,” Dirk’s grumbled complaint sounded extra whiny this morning.

  “Shuddup,” Terry snarled, and shoved at him again. “Move over, damn it.”

  “Christ, what the hell’s your problem?”

  “You being in my space,” Terry complained, his voice still muffled by the pillow as he shoved at Dirk again.

  Dirk sat up. “You weren’t complaining about me being in your space last night when you were drunk and fucking my brains out, and you sure weren’t telling me to back off when I was blowing you in the shower yesterday morning.”

  “Well, I’m telling you to back off now, so back off,” Terry muttered, remembering the night vividly; only it had been Nicky’s face he’d seen as he was screwing Dirk.

  “Fine. Whatever.” Dirk rolled over, pulling the blankets with him.

  Terry cursed and yanked them back, causing Dirk to yelp. He grabbed the edge and tried to reclaim them as Terry cocooned himself and placed the pillow back over his head.

  “What the hell was that for?” Dirk complained.

  “Because you won’t listen,” Terry snapped. “Leave me alone, damn it. Can’t you go find something productive to do?”

  “God. Fine,” Dirk huffed as he got off the bed. “I’ll sleep on the fucking couch since you wanna act like a bitch.”

  “The only bitch around here is you.”

  “Where do you get off calling me a bitch when you’re the one trying to kick people out of the bed and complaining about them lying too close?”

  “I called you a bitch because you are a bitch. All you’re good for is getting on your hands and knees and begging for cock. Now shut the hell up and let me sleep. Bitch.”

  Dirk stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  After emitting an annoyed huff, Terry relaxed and sank into the softness of the bed, thinking about the conversation he’d had with Nicky the night before: a conversation that had led to him getting very drunk and thus very handsy with Dirk.

  ***

  Across town, Nicky’s morning was equally frustrating, but for totally different reasons. Weeks of healing, stuck for the most part in the living room, had Nicky climbing the walls.

  “Please, Gray, can we just go to a movie or something?”

  “Only if you’ll let me get the tangles out of your hair for you and wash it.”

  “Fine, okay. God, at this point you might as well give me a buzz cut. It’s a disaster.”

  “Which it wouldn’t have been if you’d have let one of us brush it for you weeks ago.”

  Gray grabbed some detangler, a brush, and a comb, and sat behind Nicky on the bed. As soon as Gray touched his shoulder, Nicky closed his eyes and tried to lean back against him.

  “You’ve got to sit up for this,” Gray told him.

  Nicky sighed and did so, wanting more contact than Gray’s feather-light touches on his head. Gray tried to be as gen
tle as possible, but some of the tangles were near impossible to get out without tugging and discomfort. Nicky grumbled in frustration.

  “Just cut it,” Nicky snapped after a particularly fierce tug.

  “I love your hair long.”

  “I do too, but this sucks. Just cut it.”

  “Let me try a little longer,” Gray pleaded, trailing his fingertips down Nicky’s jaw. “Please.”

  Nicky pressed his face against Gray’s hand and sighed. “Okay.”

  Gray sprayed more detangler, rubbed it in, and combed as carefully as he could.

  When Gray was done, he took Nicky to the bathroom, peeled his clothes off, and washed him, being careful not to get the remaining bandages wet. The fresh scars on Nicky’s body stood out, and Gray was careful as he washed around each one. Nicky reached every now and again to cup Gray’s face and kiss him, or try and touch him in return. His hand drifted up Gray’s leg until Gray covered it with his own and moved it.

  Flushing, Nicky ducked his head and stopped moving, letting Gray finish. When they were done Gray combed Nicky’s hair for him and helped him dress.

  “Ready for the movie?”

  “No,” Nicky said softly. “I, umm, I think I want to lie back down.”

  “Are you feeling okay?” Gray asked, concern filling his voice as he touched Nicky’s forehead, checking to see if he was too hot.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired,” Nicky insisted.

  “Nicky,” Gray pushed, cupping Nicky’s face and lifting his head to meet Gray’s eyes. “Talk to me?”

  “Isn’t this boring for you?” Nicky blurted.

  Gray frowned, puzzled.

  “I mean, I can’t do fuck all for you. All I can do is sit here and be useless. Why do you even bother coming down here each day? It’s a waste of gas.”

  “Uh-huh,” Gray muttered, lips pressed tight together. “I was waiting for this.”

  “For what?” Nicky asked, confused.

  “For the moment when you decided to question why I stuck around after you got hurt.”

  “Yeah, and why did you?”

  Gray caressed Nicky’s face, then leaned in and kissed him. Hot, hungry, possessive.

  “Does that answer your question?” Gray asked.

  Nicky blinked, shocked, surprised, and speechless.

  “You’re mine, Nicholas Erickson, for as long as you’re willing to be. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”

  Nicky tried to smile, but he could see from Gray’s expression that it hadn’t worked.

  “Can we talk? I mean really talk.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you want me here?”

  “Hell yeah!” Nicky said immediately.

  “But you’re worried about something.”

  “Just you getting tired of me, or resenting me because I can’t be much of a boyfriend like this.”

  “What you really mean is that you can’t sleep with me like this,” Gray prodded. “And it’s true, you can’t, or I might hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I care for you any less or want to be with you any less. That would make me a pretty bad boyfriend if I did.”

  “How can you not?” Nicky blurted.

  “Because there is more to you than what you can do for me in bed. Nicky, I know that when we started this you’d just come off of a relationship that didn’t end well, and, to be honest, I figured a good fuck was all we’d have together. Then you called and we started talking, and I knew that I wanted to know more about you. I was happy I got to see you race. I loved the hikes we took, and it was quite memorable giving you cooking lessons. I want us to do more of those things. I want to take you horseback riding sometime, like we talked about. I want us to go to a rodeo, and you still owe me surfing lessons, you know.”

  Nicky looked down at himself. “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”

  “Oh, I think it will, if you’re stubborn enough. It’s all up to you, Nicky.”

  “If it were really all up to me this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “I hate that this happened to you, Nicky, but there’s nothing left for it now, but to accept it and move on.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Nicky muttered.

  “No,” Gray said, a bit harshly. He settled his tone and reigned in his emotions. “Not easy for me to say. I hate seeing you hurting. It hurts me to see you so unhappy and frustrated, and I know Vic feels the same.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Because we talk sometimes, and because he cares about you, just like I do. We’ve both noticed how angry you’ve grown, and I’m willing to bet you’re starting to resent all the help you have to have.”

  “Starting to?” Nicky growled. “I hate feeling like an invalid.”

  “Well, I hate to break it to you, but until you’ve had a chance to get PT in and start working through the damage, you are an invalid, and the best thing you can do is remember one very important thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That we both love you, and we know that if the shoe were on the other foot, you’d be doing the same for us.”

  “That’s two things,” Nicky mentioned.

  “Yup.” Gray chuckled. “Now, would you still like to go to the movies?”

  Nicky sighed heavily and nodded. “Yes please.”

  “Then let me tie your hair back and we can go. Maybe you should let me braid it for you so it won’t get all tangled like that again.”

  ***

  At the theater, Gray insisted they share a tub of popcorn, even after Nicky tried to convince him that junk food was the last thing he should be eating, as fat as he was getting sitting around doing nothing.

  Eyeing him up and down, Gray just shook his head. “If anything, you’re too skinny, which isn’t good. You need to eat more. If you don’t want popcorn, choose something else, but you should really eat something.”

  “Popcorn’s fine,” Nicky relented, although he barely touched it.

  He did, however, laugh at the wacky cop movie that was playing out on the screen and lean against Gray’s arm on occasion. Hearing Nicky laugh made Gray’s heart soar, and he slipped his arm around Nicky, careful of the bandages still covering him. Every now and again he slid his fingers up the back of Nicky’s neck to stroke his hair or hug him closer, feeling him sigh contently or laugh at an explosion.

  God that felt good. Nicky’s laughter was music to Gray’s soul.

  “Can we watch another?” Nicky asked, his green eyes alight with glee as he stared up imploringly at Gray. That smile was infectious and Gray felt his own grin stretch and grow.

  “Sure. Any one you’d like. Let’s go see what’s playing.” He helped Nicky from his seat and back into the wheelchair. Out in the hall, they looked at all of the brightly lit signs hanging from the ceiling, and Gray watched as Nicky’s eyes widened when he caught sight of a new dinosaur movie.

  He pointed, practically bouncing in the chair. “Holy shit, we have to see that.”

  Placing a hand on Nicky’s good shoulder, Gray couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “Then dinosaurs it is.”

  The movie proved to be a chance for Gray to further discover just how much Nicky loved paleontology, and dinosaurs in general. While the chance of finding bones was slim, the idea of fossil hunting with Nicky was making Gray think more and more of the old creeks and river beds he knew, and the possibilities of picnics and exploring as soon as Nicky was back on his feet again.

  “Do you really know places we can fossil hunt?” Nicky whispered when there was a lull in the action.

  Gray couldn’t help but grin. “Sure do.”

  “Can we go sometime, please?”

  “God, I’m looking forward to it.” Gray gave Nicky a gentle squeeze. Even in the light and shadows of the theater, it was impossible to miss the look of joy on Nicky’s face.

  After the movie, Gray stopped at a deli and picked them up some food; then they drove out to the beach to have their meal. The sound of the waves and t
he smell of the sea air brightened Nicky’s mood so much he finished all of his food, then lay on the blanket with Gray, watching the sun finish setting and the stars begin to emerge.

  “I’ve missed this, just listening to the ocean,” Nicky admitted.

  “Then we’ll make an effort to come down here as often as we can, until you’re healthy enough to make it here on your own.”

  “I’d like that. I miss starting the morning out here, waxing my board as the sun comes up.”

  “Did you do that a lot?”

  “As often as I could,” Nicky responded. “Terry liked to sleep until the very last minute, but I’ve always been an early riser, so I’d slide out of bed, grab some cereal, and rush out here to get a few hours of surfing in.”

  “I take it he wasn’t a surfer?”

  “No, he surfed; he just preferred coming down after work when the beaches were packed and there were a ton of people to watch him.”

  “Gotcha,” Gray said with a grimace. So far there had been nothing he’d learned about Terry that was positive in the slightest. It made him wonder why the hell Nicky had been friends with him, let alone dated him for so long.

  “Guess we were just different that way. He always wanted to have an audience; me, I just liked doing the things I enjoyed. Always wish I’d taken the time to learn how to ride a horse though.”

  “Been a long time since I’ve ridden, but I’d be happy to teach you,” Gray told him, pleased to learn there was something that he would get to experience with Nicky first.

  “Doubt I’ll ever be able to manage, with my leg as fucked up as it is.”

  “You don’t know that. Your leg will heal; you’ll see.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  “When all the bandages come off, I’ll take you into the water. You’ll be surprised at how much easier it will be for you to move when you don’t fully have to support your own weight.”

  “I just wanna get back on my surfboard again.”

  “Baby steps, Nicky. Get used to exercising the muscles you haven’t been able to use, first. That’s where the water will help. It’s soothing, and the buoyancy means you won’t have to put much weight on your leg. You can float and just work on getting used to moving your arm and leg again.”