Martin and Milo are the perfect 'dark" Yaoi couple
Some vomit might have slipped past my fingers as I held them to my mouth at the thought of that. Honestly, I can't begin to imagine how to turn two of the most vile, soul-shattering dark people who...
...
goddamit
"Milo leaned the motorcycle slightly so that the kickstand would hold it off. Martin helped him by holding the handlebars for a bit of stability. Once the gleaming, brutish machine was stable, Martin glided his fingers off of it as the exhaust. It made its distinctive click-click-click sound as it cooled down, almost like a muscled thorougbred catching its after being put through its paces.
Milo took off his helmet. The sun sparkled off the blacked out visor as he did, highlighting the neon tribal design so carefully hand-painted onto it. Milo's hair cascaded out once the helmet was fully off. Strands of it, still wet with sweat, stuck to his face and clung to the sharp creases of his jawline. His eyes were still ablaze from the thrill of the high-speed pass he had just performed in front of Martin.
Martin didn't miss any of these things, nor the way Milo towered over him by almost a full head. The width of his shoulders overpowered his own slight frame enough to block the sun as it set behind the both of them.
In any other relationship, Milo would be the one dominating and calling all the shots just by the strength of his greater physical prowess. In fact, Milo had never known any other type of relationship... until now.
Martin voice was harsh, but playful. "You didn't even tick over 160mph that run. It was a pretty pathetic pass in fact. If you won't take this seriously, I don't see why I'm even bothering with you. We are going to do this again until I see that you are making an effort.
Milo's eyes held Martin's, but only for a second. Martin's gaze was ice, and demanding, and overpowering. It was like staring into molten rock and Milo gladly shriveled under it, longing to please Martin.
"But the sun is going down...", Milo offered weakly. "Then let it. I don't care if it's pitch black. This track cost me close to $15,000 to rent for these few hours and I'll get my money's worth out of it or else I'll get my money's worth out of your hide". I want to see 170 mph", then with a harsh emphasis, "...do you understand".
Milo nodded succinctly, and the helmet went back on with the visor up. The machine rumbled to life again. Martin's hand brushed over Milo's thigh as Martin's face pressed near Milo's, "Do this for me. Do this for me and when you finish, we'll go have dinner at La Scala afterwards, and after that..."
Martin squeezed Milo's thigh tightly and then glided it down to his knee as it swept of Milo and continued a sinuous curve onto the gas tank of the gleaming bike, almost as if there was no firm distinction where Milo ended and the machine began.
Milo held Martin's gaze for a moment before his visor went down. A deep crescendo of a rumble began from the engine as he gunned the throttle while it sat in neutral.
It would happen this run. He would do this. He would do this for Martin. Then afterwards; La Scala. Then after that...