Title: Flying
Author: Bj Jones
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: I think we all know I don't own them and the reasons why. They are owned by various executives, producers, writers and studios that have more lawyers than I want to mess with. I'm not making any money just borrowing them for a bit and promise to return them
Summary: He loved riding on the back of the yellow Ducati.
Beta: Star (Gil)
Warning: Slash – if you don't like it – don't read it
100 Challenges: 100 Fanfic – Timothy Speedle/Eric Delko
Prompt: #13 - Yellow
Word Count: 1013
~*~
 
Eric held onto Speed as the two flew down the interstate. He loved the feel of his arms around Speed, feeling the muscles contract as the New Yorker controlled the bike on tight corners.   As the drove around the city, Eric reflected back over their relationship.
 
~*~
 
When he had first seen the yellow bike in the parking lot, he wondered what hothead would drive such a flashy bike. It was obviously made for speed and power, not a practical piece of transportation.
 
Then he met the owner. And well, the bike fit him. Speed. Yep, the name fit the man, and the man fit the bike.
 
They worked side-by-side, becoming fast friends. It wasn’t until the club fire that the relationship changed. The carefree lifestyle suddenly didn’t seem so carefree. The woman he had been flirting with and had thought about taking home had died, and he didn’t even know her name.
 
Eric had gone over to Speed’s after they closed the case. He had knocked on the door, but no one answered. He heard a hacking cough from inside; knocked again, this time louder.
 
The door jerked open. Speed had glared at him, then ushered him inside. Eric cringed at the hacking cough. “You okay?”
 
“Do I sound okay?” Speed’s voice was raspy.
 
“No,” Eric admitted. “Smoke finally got to you?”
 
Speed nodded. “Make yourself comfortable.” He moved down the hall back to his bed.
 
Eric smiled and looked around the small apartment. Speed hadn’t exaggerated when he said he liked to read. Eric moved into the kitchen, a bit surprised at the fully stocked fridge and cabinets. He smiled and grabbed the chicken out of the fridge and began to make chicken soup.
 
“What are you doing in my kitchen?” Speed glared at the Cuban.
 
Eric smiled and forced Speed to sit, and placed a bowl of chicken soup in front of him. “You said make myself at home.”
 
Speed grumbled but ate the soup willingly. “Not bad, could use more herbs in it.”
 
“It’s my momma’s recipe!” Eric crossed his arms in front of him.
 
Speed just eyed him. “Still could use some more herbs.”
 
“And what are you, a chef?” Eric smart mouthed back.
 
Speed smirked and pointed to the kitchen wall. Eric stood dumbfounded, staring at the degree from a prestigious cooking school in Miami. “Yeah well…”
 
Speed laughed. “Sit and have dinner with me, while I’m awake and not coughing a lung up.”
 
~*~
 
Eric tightened his grip on Speed as they maneuvered between traffic. As much as he loved the man, the bike, and riding on said bike with the man, sometimes it scared the hell out of him. It didn’t help when the Cuban felt the chuckle ripple through Speed. He knew the Trace expert was doing it on purpose, just to get Eric to hold on tighter. 
 
He didn’t know where his lover was taking him, but he was enjoying the ride. They didn’t get to go very often. Mostly Speed just rode his bike to work or rode in with Eric in his car. So these trips were always special.
 
When the bike slowed and came to a stop, Eric looked around at his surroundings. They were in a small alcove near the beach. He looked back down the path they came, and he couldn’t see the main highway.   He turned back towards Speed.
 
Speed had turned on the bike and was now facing him. He pulled Eric closer and took his mouth into a deep kiss. Eric opened up instantly, enjoying the sensations Speed was causing. His mind flashed back to their first kiss.
 
~*~
 
Eric knocked on Speed’s door hoping he wouldn’t get kicked out. Speed opened the door and stared at him. “What do you want?”

Eric cringed at the sharp tone. He deserved it. He had been a jerk this past week. After they had dinner, Eric realized that he was beginning to have feelings for his best friend.   Not dealing well with realization, he took it out on Speed, snapping at him, ignoring, and basically treating him like dirt. 
 
“I’m sorry.”
 
Speed opened the door and let the Cuban inside. “You owe me more than that.”
 
Eric let the door close, then pulled Speed into his arms and kissed him. “I’m really sorry.”
 
Speed stared at him for a few moments then turned towards the kitchen. “Have you eaten?”
 
“No…” Eric followed him. “I kissed you and…”
 
“I don’t cook for just anyone.” Speed looked over at him.
 
“Oh…” The Cuban sat down and smiled at him.

~*~
 
Eric moaned deep in his throat. The feel of Speed in his arms, their bodies pressed tightly together. This was flying… this was better than riding the Ducati at full speed. Speed pulled back, a grin on his face. 
 
“What?” Eric as he ran a hand down the scruffy cheek.
 
“Move in with me?” Speed asked quietly.
 
Eric smiled brightly. “How soon can we get my stuff?”

Speed grinned and kissed him quickly before turning back around and facing away from Eric. “Depends on how fast I can fly us home.”
 
Eric gripped onto Speed tightly. As the two headed back home, Eric buried his head into Speed’s shoulder. Yep. He loved riding on the back of the Ducati wrapped around his lover as he flew down the streets. It was the one of his favorite things to do. Right after being wrapped around him in bed.
 
 
~ The End ~