When Bobby went off to the office this particular morning, he'd ushered Billy into the cell into the basement, tossing him an orange jumpsuit and then locking him in. "Somebody'll be along in a bit", he explained as he went to pull the car out of the garage ( Read more... )

His ankle was nearly back to normal. Sure there were twinges now and again and if he pushed too hard, it would swell up once more. But as best James could tell, all was back to normal ( Read more... )

It had been his first time back at the gym since the damned accident. Every muscle in his body hurt. But this Saturday James wasn't letting that slow him down. Changing into an old and torn pair of jeans, he headed down to the garage ( Read more... )

He paused outside the door, trying to get himself put back together. His leather was torn, the side of his jeans ripped out and the underneath skin abraided to hell. One cheek showed road rash and his helmet, though still in one piece and in James' hand, was toast ( Read more... )

Work. Home. Sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat with the occassional night at the gym tossed in for good measure. They were seeing each other constantly, the sex was amazing but there was something James was missing. And so he'd left a note on Bobby's nightstand when he woke up Sunday morning. James was nowhere to be seen but if Bobby followed the ( Read more... )

He should've gone home. Just waited, talked it out. But there was a knot in his gut that wouldn't quit, just feeling like it was eating at him. Not fucking caring if he was supposed to work on his bike there. He needed to calm down and it was this or take off ( Read more... )

The door opened and in slipped James. Tie knotted just so, suit slightly rumpled but no more than normal work might cause for one unaccustomed to such a costume. A small stack of yellow slips in his hand, each on painstakingly recording the message he had taken ( Read more... )

Standing before the full length mirror staring at his own reflection. The suit fit perfectly, tracing every line and curve until it seemed to both highlight his buff form and kept it from seeming to masculine at the same time. Hidden just beneath the collar of his shirt was the necklace that marked him as Bobby's ( Read more... )

The key, attached to a Harley keyring are laid atop a box wrapped in red and black flame pattered paper.

Inside are a pair of boots and a note.

Bobby,

You are my love. My life. And you have all of my trust. After the holidays, I want to teach you how to ride it so that it, as I, can be yours.

I love you with all my heart.

Yours -

James

Wearing the leather jacket open, not looking bothered by the colder temperatures as he slipped in from what was obviously the gym. Shirt showing sweat marks, heather grey sweats on his legs as well as track shoes. Body starting to show the muscle and not the tone of his daily workouts ( Read more... )