I Want You Now
"Idiot!" this time Martin directed the invective towards himself. He knew he had to concentrate on the riding itself. Admittedly, Abe had just instructed him not to go crazy, but it was his lap, and Steve Paxton had no right to be on his feet now. Martin pushed the gas on.
He moved ahead of Steve for a moment. This did not appeal to the racing driver, who allowed his advantage only several dozen meters and just before the bend he overtook him on the outside.
"Shit!" Martin swore, cutting the same corner.
"Be good boys," he heard Allen's pissed-off voice on the joint channel.
Martin didn't reply, focusing entirely on the driving and the car in front of him. He was pissed off with Steve for pushing onto the track ahead of schedule, for not letting him fully feel the machine, and for showing him where he belonged.
"As if I didn't know that," he muttered to himself and pushed the gas on.
Steve could have run him at least half a lap if he wanted to, but for some reason he kept quite a decent distance, like a fly that constantly whips around his nose. It was irritating, even very much, and Martin could feel his excitement rising in him.
Before each turn, Martin approached the leading driver to be forced to let him go as soon as he turned onto the straight. It was annoying, frustrating, and exciting. He remembered all the emotions he felt during real racing and allowed himself to lose himself completely in where he was and what he was doing.
Adrenaline rushed to his heart and head. The will to compete, the desire to catch up with Steve taunting him and defeat him was so strong in Martin that he lost the jitters that usually ate him during competitions. Yes, it was not a competition, but for Martin, the competition on the track with Steve was about a higher stakes than the cup. Nevertheless, Martin felt real pleasure and satisfaction. This is what a driver should feel on the track.
"All right, boys," Allen's businesslike voice brought him back to reality. "Go back to the garage. Good job."
What? Already? Martin felt disappointed. He had so much fun fighting Paxton, and it's all over?
Steve broke forward, apparently wanting to leave the track early. Martin slowed down for it, wanting to enjoy being on the track even a moment longer. When he finally got there, he was greeted with applause from the mechanics and Jack. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Steve was nowhere around.
It wasn't until he got out of the car that Martin realized how tired he was. He absorbed the water given to him by Allen in a flash and he had the impression that there was not enough of it. Sweat covered his whole body, gluing his hair to his face. He also felt very hungry. As he got out of the car, he swayed. His legs felt like cotton wool.
'Damn it,' he thought. 'It's exhausting like having sex with Steve.'
He blushed at the association.
"Relax," Jack held his arm. "You have to get used to this type of effort. A few laps like this are like an all-night sex marathon." Jack winked at him, causing Martin to open his mouth. How is it possible that they were thinking the same thing?
"Don't scandalize the mechanics," Abe said. "Well done, kid. Take a shower and go to the canteen. In one thing, Jack is right, it takes some time to getting used to this."
Martin patted by the other mechanics followed Jack towards the locker room. He dreamed of a hot shower that would wash away his sweat and of a juicy, high-calorie meal.
"I was surprised because you drove really well," Jack said.
"Thanks. It was even fun," he replied, also surprised, as he hadn't expected that getting back on track would be so much fun. For a moment he even remembered his dream of winning a real race.
But so many drivers were competing with each other that you had to have real talent to win. Talent and skills. Just like Steve. Many drivers, although they are really good, do not have victories for years, having to settle for further places. Like Jack - always in the front but never in the top. But Martin knew that even with Jack, a driver like himself didn't stand a chance. No, not "even with Jack" because Lambert was really great, he was just unlucky that he lived in the era of wolf cubs whose domination on the track was astonishing and dazzling. Jack was a really great driver, so his words of appreciation were really important.
"When Steve saw you at the track, I thought he was going to pop out of his skin." Lambert smiled. "He couldn't take his eyes off you, and when he finally did make it, he rumbled madly behind you."
Martin's heart trembled.
"He showed me where I belong," he said.
"Eh, it wasn't that bad. In fact, he was driving just enough distance to see you in the rearview mirror."
"What do you mean by that?" Martin blushed.
"Don't get me wrong, you're fine, but you are a bit short of being a professional ..."
"As if I didn't know," he muttered.
"Steve could have left you behind at any moment so much that you wouldn't even smell his tires burning."
Martin's heart beat very fast. Did Jack want to make a suggestion?
"You're so slow," the driver sighed. "Steve wanted to be close to you on the track. By the way, it's cute, so not his style. He tends to drive a lot more aggressively, paying no attention to others on the track. This is the type of driver who ..."
Martin, however, wasn't listening, completely absorbed in the thought that on the track Steve was really close all the time… and yet very far away. That was exactly what the relationship was like - apparent closeness, adrenaline, a fever of physical contact, and frustration that Steve is still out of his reach after all. He is approaching, he gives hope and pleasure to go the entire length of the track after a while. It was annoying.
But also exciting.
Martin sighed. Something was really wrong with him.
Despite the tiring morning at the track, Martin felt too much emotion to go home to rest as Allen had suggested. He would not fall asleep anyway, and working on cars was always pure pleasure for him. Besides, he had nothing interesting to do at home. Here, at least, he was among the people he liked and with whom he had interests. And, of course, he might have seen Steve occasionally.
Once again, Martin couldn't believe that such a handsome man existed. He knew not only his thin face with sharp but very attractive features, but also his perfect, strong, hard body. Steve ignored him repeatedly, not looking at him for more than a glance, but after all these weeks, Martin was used to it. Today, however, after their struggle on the track, Martin felt that something had changed. Once or twice he thought that when he wasn't looking, he felt his gaze on him.
Was this morning exciting not only for him?
The hours passed slowly and the day finally ended. Steve had disappeared some time ago, but Martin did not stop dreaming about their next meeting, although he knew that he would end the day by fantasizing. As always. He took his sweatshirt and, as it became his habit, was the last to leave the cloakroom. He stepped out into the fresh air and warm sun of the early evening and froze.
Martin wanted to believe it wasn't just a coincidence. It couldn't be just a coincidence, because Steve had no business being here at this time. His day ended a few hours ago and, as was his custom, the driver was gone. Nevertheless, he was now standing near the stalls. Martin's heart leapt at the sight of him. The adrenaline from today's training was gone, but probably not entirely. Meeting Steve alone had mixed feelings in Martin as usual.
Steve tossed a cigarette butt on the grass and stamped it with his shoe. He met Martin and blocked his path with his hand. He inclined his head slightly towards him. His scent, which now clearly predominates a hint of tobacco and expensive cologne, captivated Martin's senses.
"I want you. I want you now" said Steve.
Martin, gathering all his courage, raised his eyes to the taller Steve. His heart was pounding and his thoughts turned into total chaos. He felt the flush on his cheeks and the weight of his own breath.
No, he told himself firmly. Not this time. Not so.
He didn't want to be treated as purely for sex. He had accepted that Paxton had nothing but physical attraction for him, but he wanted to fight for something more, if not for a little of love, then at least respect. He was determined to fight for it like a lion ... until he met Steve's eyes
Two flames stared at him and immediately ignited his body to the limit. His manhood knew no shame in reacting only to those piercing, lustful eyes.
Steve's face was getting closer and closer and his scent grew stronger.
"Now," Martin heard right next to his ear, feeling hot, moist breath.
He couldn't fight for dignity. He loved this man and wanted him desperately. Even if he was about to humiliate himself again, his body was begging for Steve's touch. Martin swallowed hard.
Steve read his submission. He took his wrist and led him to a more secluded place, sheltered from the eyes of possible passers-by.