"Close t' the startin' line. Gotcha." Markus nodded, lips quirking up as he studied Nikolas' face for a moment. Then, with a glance around to make sure no one was watching, he leaned forward, quickly pressing his lips to Nikolas' throat before rearranging his legs and slipping out the door. "Good luck, darlin'. Break a leg, don't lose, whatever good luck wish it takes." He said, blowing a kiss before shutting the door.
My Other Half // PRIVATE with Crocs
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Nikolas blinked a few times, then a slow grin lifted his lips as he rubbed the spot on his neck where Markus had kissed him. He had noticed the glances, and, quite frankly, he didn't care as long as he got to have those kisses. Nikolas was a mess of happiness and excitement as he pulled the car out of his parking spot and got ready to pull up to the starting line, just waiting for the other two to come back. It was a close one, practically bumper to bumper, and the crowd was screaming with anticipation, cheering for their favorite to win. The bright yellow and black-striped viper that pulled up next to him made his smile falter and his grip on the wheel to tighten. He refused to look, though, and he sat back and folded his arms over his chest, the picture of calm confidence.
Markus made his way to a spot near the starting line, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as his eyes flickered across the parts of the track he could see, from the cars at the start to the people gathering to watch. His grin was lopsided, still coasting on the buzz from stealing a kiss, and feeding off of the buzz around him. This place was kind of cool, honestly. You got this, Niky.
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The two cars passed the finish line, and there were a few sighs of disappointment as bets were cashed in among the crowd. Greyson went around and gathered his percentage, then waved the finished cars off to the side and summoned Nikolas and the viper—driven by none other than Jay Hendricks, Nikolas' all-time rival. The two cars lined up at the start, then got out to place their bets. "Two grand," Nikolas said instantly, looking down at the slightly shorter boy.
Jay smirked and held up the cash. "Nice try, pretty boy. I've got the cash. You?" Nikolas reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. Greyson easily slipped into the conversation and grabbed both stacks of cash, counting.
"Two grand each. We're good to go, boys." He slapped both of their shoulders, then grinned and went into the middle of the road, quick to get this over with before fists went flying. "Let's get this show on a road!"
Nikolas smirked and leaned down, whispering something to Jay that made his face red with rage. Nikolas smoothly slipped away and got into his Challenger, letting the engine roar in challenge. Jay huffed and threw himself into his Viper, slamming the door shut and revving up the engine. Good to go.
The first punch was thrown just as the cars came into view again, and it was Markus' fist that was the culprit.
It had started with words, with the man who'd sidled up next to Markus and made an offhanded comment about Markus being there for one reason. For being good in bed, though in the most derogatory way possible. The exact kind of thing Markus had broken a guy's face for calling Lily. Slut. The anger, the shame, both were easy to push down, his excitement dwindling as he kept his eyes focused on the tracks. And then the man had spoken again.
"Or maybe you're just another one. Maybe it's Nikolas who made his way here sleeping with everyone who could give him a hand. Climbed up the ladder like the-"
And that was when Markus' fist had met the man's face. He hadn't even registered spinning, or swinging, before he was receiving a blow to his gut. Fists were flying then, and it was hard to tell who was coming out on top, until suddenly Markus started landing more hits.
He tasted blood, felt blood in more places than it should be. But he also felt something else, a mixture of wicked satisfaction at feeling the man's face crumple in ways it shouldn't, and a holy anger fueled by the man's words against Nikolas. It surprised him, but what surprised him even more was suddenly being pulled off of the man. When had they hit the ground? And why couldn't he stop thrashing, even as he looked down at the man who's face was so swollen it looked like he'd eaten a bee hive.
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Greyson had spotted something, Nikolas knew. He gestured to some people to get over there and handle it, then made the countdown quick. Nikolas wanted to look, but if he had, Jay would've gotten the jump on him. Nikolas slammed on the gas just as Greyson's third finger went down, back tires squealing against the pavement and generating smoke right before he shot past the lanky man, Jay a hair's breadth behind him. They sped down the long stretch of road, going down the straight-away first until they'd hit the turns and curves.
Once the two cars sped by him, Greyson ran over to where two guys were holding back the bloody and blood-thirsty arm candy of Nikolas', while another two were holding back a rando that looked furious and covered in a concerning amount of blood. "Hey hey hey!" he shouted, getting in between the two and looking to Candy, figuring he was the best to reason with, if Nikolas' judgment was to be trusted. "What the actual fuck is going on?"
"Mother fucker's runnin' his mouth like a tractor sowin' fields without no brakes." Markus spat, his words half blood and half verbal, and very much unintelligible. The look in his eyes was downright murderous, and he kept jerking, like he was trying to get free from the men who were holding him back to continue wailing on the man who'd insulted Nikolas. The man who'd insulted his soulmate. That's what this is.
"Sayin' things he don' got no basis for other than the delusions he formed in tha' paramecial brain o' his." He added, this time actually spitting, a wad of blood hitting the ground by his feet as his eyes met Greyson's. They weren't dull. Not like they usually were. They were dark, glinting like the obsidian baking in a volcano, glass turned harsh and sharp.
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Greyson saw the look in the furious giant's eyes and realized he needed to get him to calm down—which meant getting him away from the bleeding prick and using Nikolas. He stepped up to Markus and held up his hands, as if saying he wasn't a threat. "Hey, look, Candy, I'm not gonna pretend to understand what you're saying, only that you're pissed and you think he deserved it." He gestured for the guys holding the other guy to take him away, then nodded at the two holding Markus. They loosened this hold on him once the other guy was gone, and Greyson grabbed Markus' arm, pulling him to the other side of the road.
"Look, Candy. Look," he said, pointing to the distant cars. Nikolas wasn't in the lead, and there were people booing at that—many people. "Your boy? He's counting on you being safe so he doesn't have to worry about you when he does that." Just as he said that, Nikolas' Challenger turned sharply, back end swinging madly as Nikolas drove straight for the impossible shortcut. Jay attempted to do the same, but ended up spinning out and using the normal road after a second's hesitation. Nikolas was easily in control as he shot down the dirt road, masterfully executing drift after drift when there were difficult turns. "He can't be worried about you, especially when he's got two grand on the line and the cut I give him from what I get from these guys." Greyson gestured to the crowd cheering wildly. People were standing on truck beds and sitting on top of cars, attempting to see the two separated cars better.
He's saying to calm down. Calm down, and you can see Nikolas as soon as he's done. Markus wrenched his arm from Greyson's grip, not a slight to the man himself but more ignoring the memories of foster father's with iron grips. He pressed his bloodied knuckles to his forehead. Breathe. In and out. You kicked that guy's ass, now support the boy you did it for.
"Yeah." He grunted, letting Greyson know he'd heard him. Suddenly, he was fifteen again, fresh out of the first fight he'd ever won and sitting outside the principal's office as he waited for his foster mother to pick him up. Waiting, waiting and then the yelling, tuning everything out. In that safe place in the back of his mind, his little clearing in the woods with the view of the stars that always managed to feel like home, despite how little he actually knew about them. And then he was back. Seventeen and watching Nikolas take a dangerous path to win a race. He let out a loud whoop, pumping his fist in the air and swinging it in a celebratory gesture, grin wild and bloodstained, but eyes alight with a warmer kind of glint. That's my boy.
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Greyson sighed in relief and stepped away, arms folding over his chest and body turning towards the race. It was clear from the sound of the Viper, Jay was fighting to beat Nikolas in the doomed race. It was pretty set that the winner would be whoever went through the shortcut—that is, if they ever got out of the path. But Greyson wasn't convened. He's watched that kid practice so many times, he was convinced Nikolas could go through it with his eyes closed.
It wasn't long before Nikolas took a final turn and he was drifting onto the paved road of the straightaway again, heading back to them. A few seconds later, a yellow flash fought to gain some ground on the black Challenger. The crowd was screaming in excitement, cheering for their favored winner. From the sounds of it, most were on Nikolas' side.
He was going to win. Even Markus, who had about as much racing experience as a three year old in a stroller, could see that. This other guy, whoever his competitor was, had lost ground he couldn't gain back thanks to Nikolas' use of the shortcut. And Markus was practically buzzing. "He's gonna make it." He muttered aloud, spitting the blood out of his mouth again but keeping that grin of his.
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Nikolas knew the moment he hit the finish line. He hit the brakes, maneuvering the car so it slid in a controlled manner until he stopped where they started. Jay wasn't so graceful. He hit the brakes too early, lessening the ground he gained on Nikolas, and skid into the grass in an attempt to do the same thing Nikolas had done. After a moment to make sure the race was a truly over, Nikolas left the car running and slipped out, leaving the door open as he scanned the area for Markus, fingers running through his hair.
He didn’t have to look long, because Markus was already moving towards him quickly. Without warning, he scooped up Nikolas as soon as he reached him, arms wrapping around him. “That’s my boy.” He murmured into his ear, accent rolling his words as he set his chin on his shoulder, still holding the other boy up. “Ya were great, by the way. Don’ know much ‘bout racin’, but I was right ‘bout you bein’ good at it.”
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Nikolas let out a small noise of surprise as he was picked up, though his arms wrapped around Markus as he fought to at least be standing on his toes. He grinned when he heard the rolling Texan words in his ear, though he frowned when he saw something that wasn't there when he left the Texan giant. "Why the fuck are you bleeding?" he hissed, then squirmed out of Markus' grasp so he could confront Jay, who was furiously marching over to him. Greyson showed up and put himself in between the two racers, handing Nikolas four grand of cash in an envelope. "You earned it, kid," he said proudly, even if he was supposed to be an unbiased party.
Markus tensed as Jay approached, eyes flickering from him to Nikolas as he resisted the urge to take his hand. Instead, he crossed his arms, glad they’d been interrupted so he could avoid Nikolas’ obvious anger at his post fight appearance. Or maybe he’s mad you were in a fight at all.
He scowled in Jay’s direction, not liking the vibe the man put off, or the way Nikolas seemed to react to him. The image of his fist meeting the other man’s face flashed through his mind, and he clenched his fists, fighting the lingering anger from that fight.
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Nikolas grabbed the money from Greyson before Jay could snatch it away, a cocky smirk on his lips. "Better luck next time, Hendricks. Maybe you should stop babying her and she'll stop throwing a fit." He tilted his head in the direction of the discarded Viper, engine still purring and door wide open. Jay shoved past Greyson, who stumbled back, and got into Nikolas' face.
"Listen here, Ficher," he spat, literally, making Nikolas curl his nose in disgust. He seemed to get an idea when he saw all the phones clearly recording the scene, as his eyes lit up triumphantly and he stepped back, arms spreading wide. "I'll stop this thing we have between the two of us lovebirds," he gestured between him and Nikolas, "When you stop pretending to be who you're not. It'd be a shame if the world found out the lies you've been feeding them. And I'm not talking about," he added when Nikolas opened his mouth, features twisting with disdain, "I'm not talking about the whole untouchable bad boy persona you got goin' on. I'm talking the real lies." He grinned when Nikolas shifted, finally unnerved slightly. "That's right. You know what I'm talking about."
Nikolas clenched his jaw, muscles in his cheek feathering. "You have nothing."
"Oh, I have everything, Niky boy," Jay purred, getting into Nikolas' face. "Stand down, and so will I," he whispered, too quiet for anyone but Nikolas, Markus, and Greyson to hear.
“If ya don’ back the fuck up-“ Markus started, his voice so low it was almost a growl, eyes sparking with that dangerous glint. “-I’m gonna tie that fuckin’ tongue o’ yours in a knot and shove it somewhere that’s gonna feel real bad.” He warned, grabbing the back of Jay’s shirt and lifting him, like he was nothing more than a pesky cat, setting him not too gently a few feet from Nikolas.
Somehow, he looked even more murderous than he had while beating the shit out of the other guy, but there was something in his expression, like he was waiting for the perfect moment to snap. “Don’ ya got somethin’ else t’ be doin’, pal? If not, sure I could make ya somethin’.” That, was most definitely a threat.
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Jay shoved away from Markus with a sneer, fixing his clothes. "Think on it, Nikolas. And leash your dog." Nikolas grabbed Markus' shoulder so he wouldn't initiate another fight, holding him back and turning his head to speak directly in the male's ear. "Don't. Let's just get the rest of the morning over with."
"Fucking faggot," Jay muttered when he noticed the two of them. Nikolas closed his eyes slowly, tilting his head back as he mouthed 'Don't hit him, don't hit him, don't hit him.' "You two gonna do a victory fuck when you get back to your little sex den? Should I tell Ryker?"
Nikolas growled, turning around to shoot a glare at Jay before looking to Greyson with a not-so-happy frown. "One more race. Then I'm out." Greyson nodded, not even bothering to try to get him to stay, and whistled for the next challenger to get their car ready. Nikolas grabbed the front of Markus' shirt and led him to the back of the Challenger, muttering to himself in Greek while they walked.
Nikolas' touch soothed the anger building in his chest momentarily, allowing him to stop and breath. And then Jay was speaking again, and Markus moved as though to hit him. Nikolas dragged him off before he could, which might have been a good idea. He obviously wasn't pissed about the mention of someone else. Why would he be? Nikolas' past relationships were, hopefully, not a problem. What he was pissed about, was, ironically, Jay's words.
There had been a point in time where he had said things so similar it was eerie. Reconditioning his brain was a long road, one that took a lot of help from the few people he trusted, and now, finding himself in a sort-of-but-maybe-not relationship with a guy. And maybe that just added to his anger. But either way, that was his soulmate being talked about like that. "I'm gonna pound his face into that windshield o' his."
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"Not with those cameras, you're not," Nikolas said, pulling Markus to the trunk when he popped it and sitting him down on the edge. "Now shut up before I decide to sock you for getting into a fight." His words were terse and slightly heated, but he looked more worried and distracted than anything. He reached past Markus and brought out a first-aid kit, opening it to roughly clean the blood up before he could properly take care of him. He reached up and started with Markus' face, a sigh escaping him. "What the hell, Markus?" he murmured, "I barely left you alone for five minutes."
"People 'round here like t' run their mouths with all the factual accuracy o' a wolf wearin' wool in a sheep's pasture." Markus grumbled, face drawing into a deeper scowl at the pain flashing through his face as the blood was wiped from his split lip. Least my nose isn't broken this time. "'N five minutes was all I needed t' set 'im straight. Fuckwad needed it-ow. D'you gotta be so rough?" He complained, scowl turning into more of a pouty frown as he slumped slightly.
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"Yes." Nikolas swapped hands, using his right hand to hold Markus' chin and his left hand to wipe away the blood on his face. He brushed his thumb over the boy's lips, frowning at the split in it before moving on before he was tempted to do something he wasn't supposed to. "You're coming with me, during the next race," he said softly, discarding the bloody disinfectant wipe and trading it for a small cloth to press against the still bleeding lip. He was still tense, and he didn't think another race would shake that off. He needed to spar, needed to hit something, preferably unleash his pacing and snarling dragon before he got a pounding headache.
"I can' just come with ya on the next race." Markus said, his sentence ending in more of a hiss than words as Nikolas pressed the cloth against his lip. "Goddamn, that shit hurts. Ain't actually fought in a while. 'S all just sparrin'." He grumped, crossing his arms and leaning just a bit closer to Nikolas to make it easier for him. "Damn you an' your fuckin' med kit. I'm fine, y'know. I can fix myself up at home."
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"She's a nice car. I'd rather not get her all bloody," Nikolas said without missing a beat, removing the cloth to check on the bleeding. It was going down. He figured Markus could handle it from there. He tightened his hold on Markus' chin and forced their faces to be level, eye-to-eye, mere inches apart. "I wouldn't have to do this if you hadn't gone ballistic. I want to know exactly what happened, but later. Just promise me you won't get hurt like this again. Especially after starting it. I'd rather you start and end it in one go, than get beat bloody and end it."
"Figured I'd let the poor fucker think he had a shot." Markus grumbled, wincing slightly at Nikolas' hold tightening on his jaw. The bruising along there would be a fun one to deal with. "I-don' really know if I can promise ya that, Niky. Can promise t' try, though. But if I hear someone else sayin' things like that-I guess I'll be breakin' promises." He said, reaching up to hook his fingers around Nikolas' arm, holding onto him. Near his wrist, close enough to feel his pulse.
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Nikolas sighed like he knew Markus was going to say that, loosening his hold. He glanced off to the side as he heard the roar of an engine, signaling that it was almost time to start. He looked back at Markus and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Meínete asfalís, agapité. Den boró na sas cháso ki egó." He sealed it with a light kiss to the skin beneath the boy's neck, then leaned back some, though he didn't dislodge Markus' grip on his arm. "C'mon, it's about to start."
Markus shuddered, grip on Nikolas' wrist tightening for just a moment. "I swear t' God, I'm 'bout ta learn Greek just so I know what the fuck you're sayin'." He said, cheeks red from something other than blood now. "Guess we should get goin' then, if you're really gonna make me go with ya."
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"I'm making you," Nikolas said with an arched brow, letting his arm slip back so that he could grab Markus' hand and gently pull him off of the car. Once the boy was out of the way, Nikolas put the kit back and closed the trunk. "Let's go, Heracles. Sooner we get this over with, sooner we can leave. I'm tired of Jay's shit."
"Good. 'Cause I'm still hungry." Markus said, running a hand over his scalp before pressing lightly at his sides and chest, testing the bruises to make sure he had nothing too serious to worry about. "Guess this'll be kinda cool, gettin' t' see the race from right inside the vehicle racin'. And Heracles? Really?"
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"I'm Greek, so yes," Nikolas said with a cheeky smirk, playfully shoving Markus over to the passenger side of the car while he went to the other side, opening his door. He slid in and waited for the other male while he calmed his nerves and drove Jay out of his mind. He's got nothing on you.
But what if he does?