The roar of engines wasn’t supposed to an much to a six-year-old. But that day, Lucien rembered every sound.
He sat in a wide glass conference room, legs dangling off a leather couch, a half-lted blue slushie in his hand. His father sat at the table across the room, surrounded by n in crisp suits, papers spread like battle plans. Words like shares, contracts, and deadlines bounced between them ,things Lucien didn’t understand and didn’t care to.
He sighed, slumping deeper into the couch, the straw making a hollow gurgle as he slurped the last bit of syrup. He looked toward the large wall-mounted screen. It wasn’t part of the eting , it was put on low volu, running a live stream of the Dragons, the biggest racing tournant of the year.
He’d seen bikes before , loud, oily machines his dad always said were for "people who didn’t value their lives" But sothing about the racers on the screen made him sit up , they are so big , pff whats so special about bikes. The helts glead beneath the sunlight, the engines rumbled like thunder, and the crowd’s silent cheers pulsed even through the glass. So noisy,
And when the race began, sothing in him shifted, his eyes widened as his eys glued at the screen
The first engine’s growl echoed in his chest, vibrating through his ribs. The mont the racers shot forward, he gasped , eyes wide, heart pounding like it wanted to keep pace with the bikes.
He rushed to the window, pressing his small hands against the glass. Even from far away, he could feel the speed, the dangerous, beautiful dance of control and chaos. The bikes leaned into curves, their riders like shadows moving in rhythm, and it was alive.
"...Amazing," he whispered, eyes glistening.
His father’s reflection appeared beside his own , tall, composed, his usual stoic expression softened by amusent. "I see you got interested in the race," he said, crouching down beside him. "Maybe one day it will be you out there... making proud."
Lucien turned to him, disbelief lighting his face. "Really? I could be a racer?"
His father chuckled and reached into his briefcase, pulling out a small tal toy , a sleek miniature motorbike. "You can be anything you want to be."
Lucien held the toy as though it were the most sacred thing he’d ever touched. The tal glead beneath his small fingers, and sothing fierce took root in his chest. "I’m going to be a racer," he said, voice trembling with excitent. "And I’ll be the best."
His father ruffled his hair. "Then start with that one," he said, nodding to the toy.
Lucien grinned, clutching it tightly , not knowing that mont would stay with him forever.
But i was simply a fool that day, a young boy with a naive dream, the day that ruined my life ........
Present Day
The apartnt was dim, quiet except for the soft hum of rain against the windows.
Ethan carried a glass of water into the living room. Lucien sat curled on the couch, staring blankly at nothing, Coco, cuddled close as he slept peacefully on his lap. The little creature occasionally shifted, sensing the unease in its owner.
Ethan placed the glass on the table and sank down beside him, the couch dipping slightly under his weight.
He hadn’t expected to see Lucien again , not like this, trembling, eyes red and hollow. When they dated, Lucien had shown up here before like this , seeking comfort, but back then, Ethan hadn’t known how to deal with him. He’d been colder, rougher ,a wall made of pride and fear. Whenever Lucien ca crying, Ethan would push instead of pull. He thought keeping distance was strength, and sotis he would fuck them till the tears they spilled were intimacy
Now, sitting beside him, Ethan hated that version of himself.
He clenched his fist to drown out the guilt. "Mind telling what happened?" he asked quietly, he was never good with dealing with emotions , the only one he tried was to Monica, but giving the young kid peach would have forgotten the earlier tension
Lucien didn’t answer. His fingers toyed with Coco’s fur, eyes distant. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft rhythm of rain.
Ethan exhaled, leaning back. He wouldn’t push him, not this ti. Just being here, seeing him, already hurt enough. He ca here because this was still he safe harem, he almost scoffed , how could you find peace here when im nothing like those demons that keep haunts you
Minutes passed before Lucien finally spoke, voice barely a whisper. "I wish I was good enough."
Ethan turned his head.
Lucien’s lip quivered. "It’s not my fault I ca out an oga." His voice cracked, raw and trembling. "I didn’t choose this. I didn’t—" his voice hitched
He stopped, swallowing the rest, but the tears ca anyway ,slow, quiet, unstoppable.
Sothing inside Ethan shattered.
Without a thought, he reached forward, wrapping his arms around him. Lucien froze, breath hitching, before he sank into the warmth of the embrace. Ethan’s hand slid gently to the back of his head, his voice low and steady.
"Shh... it’s okay," he whispered. "It’s not your fault. None of it."
Lucien’s sobs ca harder, his body shaking against Ethan’s chest. Years of pressure, rejection, and loneliness pouring out in broken pieces. Ethan held him through it , the sound of his heart syncing with Lucien’s muffled cries.
Ti slowed. For a brief, fragile mont, the world felt still.
Im sorry Lucian .....
When the tears finally subsided, Lucien went quiet, breathing shallowly, eyes swollen, lashes clumped together. Ethan stayed there, one arm around him, until his breathing evened out completely.
I wished i could had been a better boyfriend......
Later that night, Ethan ca out of the bathroom, towel draped over his shoulder. The apartnt was dark except for the soft glow from the TV, still playing sothing muted and forgettable.
Lucien had fallen asleep on the couch, Coco curled beside him like a tiny guardian. His hair was a ssy halo over the pillow, his face peaceful now, but the faint tracks of tears still glistened under the dim light.
Ethan stood there for a long mont, just watching him , the kind of watching that hurt, because it made him rember everything.
He sighed quietly and walked over, grabbing a blanket from the armrest. He crouched down, draping it gently over Lucien’s shoulders. His fingers lingered near his face as he brushed away a single dried tear from his cheek.
"Idiot," he muttered softly, though his voice held no anger. "You shouldn’t have to carry everything alone." He smiled bitterly "but again.....you dont have anyone to turn to, thats why you keep coming back huh ?" he bitterly said as he hands lingered on his cheek
Then , the phone.
A vibration cut through the quiet. Once. Twice. Again.
Ethan frowned and reached for it on the coffee table. The screen lit up with a ridiculous contact na: "Evil, Broken-English Brother."
He almost laughed.
The call persisted. Ethan hesitated, then swiped to answer.
"Lucien," a male voice said on the other end, Ethan recognized it , Hunter .
Ethan’s eyes flicked to the couch, to the sleeping boy bundled in a blanket, breathing softly. "Lucien is sleeping".
A pause. "...Who is this?"
Ethan’s lips curved into a smirk, though his eyes softened. He glanced again at Lucien peaceful, fragile, yet finally safe.
"His boyfriend," Ethan said simply, voice calm and deliberate. He clenched his fist
Lucien is mine , and i will make sure to get him back
Reviews
All reviews (0)