NO Love Club (Boy × Boy) ✔

60) EPILOGUE.

X Bélizaire's POV 

"Hold on tight." I ordered, my blood roaring in my ears as I felt Cole's arms circling around my waist. He held on, locking his hands together so firmly his knuckles turned white. It still didn't quite feel safe enough, but I swallowed back my fear. 

I gripped the front brake lever with a shaky hand, going through all the steps in my mind like I had never ridden a motorcycle before. With the heel of my boot I pushed back the kickstand, then reminded myself to breathe, and shifted to first gear. I released the brake lever first, then the clutch, which got us moving. I gave it a little kick with the throttle, then shifted the gear again.

It was far from pleasant, let alone feeling like a safe haven. Mom had been right, this was senseless. What if we got into another accident? What if.. I shook my head, focusing on the road ahead and the arms clutching my middle. Sweat was trickling down my sides, and just not from the heat, and I knew it would take a long, long while for me to master the fear. Yet, knowing I didn't have to do it alone, helped. Whatever would happen, Cole and I would deal with it together.

I only needed to hang on till our first stop. I had promised myself not to worry about riding until we got back on the road again. I refused to spend the entire trip afraid, because there was so many great things to experience. The thought of seeing all those villages and mountains, and even all the crappy places we would have to dine and sleep in, made my heart pound with reasons that had nothing to do with fear.

Our trip was not going to take a year. It didn't matter how slow we went and with how many stops we made, there simply wasn't that much to see in the UK and our savings were going to run dry much sooner than we would have preferred to. Still, I was going to enjoy each day and week to the fullest, before we would have to go back to work for the rest of our gap year.

By the time we stopped at a petrol station, Cole's death grip on my waist had eased a fracture and I had stopped expecting every intersection to be a blind intersection. After our stop, it didn't take long to find a budget hotel to stay in for the night. 

Our room was tiny and cramped, and it had poor air-conditioning and windows that barely let in any natural light. But it did have a king sized bed and a bathroom with a working shower, so neither of us was going to complain. Instead, we slumped to lay on the bed and let out a simultaneous sigh of contentment. 

I rolled onto my side, leaning on my elbow as I studied his face with wonder. I hadn't realized how much my fear of motorcycles had to do with him, not until I felt a wave of relief washing over me for seeing him laying there safe and in one piece. My fear wasn't about the excruciating pain I felt, but about his arms slipping from my waist. I wasn't afraid of the red and blue lights, but seeing them reflecting from his helmet.

"We made it." I breathed, then I got up on all fours, caging him under me. Before Cole could open his mouth to retort anything, I brought our lips together. I peppered his face with kisses, until he was laughing and squirming, then found his lips again. Cole lifted his hands and wrapped them around my neck to pull me down, deepening the kiss.

"I need to take a shower first." Cole complained. True enough, when my hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, I found the fabric had stuck to his sweaty skin. It was a hot summer day, and wearing the safety gear didn't make the heat any easier to bear. "I'm all sweaty and I stink."

I buried my face into the crook of his neck and took in a deep breath, then teased: "You don't smell of roses, but I wouldn't say that you stink either.."

"Stop it." Cole warned and, contrary his words, pulled me back into another kiss. He lowered his hands, finding the arcs of my shoulder blades and sliding down my spine to my lower back. Then he started pulling my shirt off, seeming to give in to my ideas. "I guess taking a shower first would be a waste of water.."

"Yup, we need to think about the environment." I agreed, leaning down to kiss his neck. The gasp he let out was music to my ears, and I did it again, just to feel Cole's fingertips digging into the skin of my lower back.

I hadn't planned on taking things any further than kissing, but we never seemed to have that kind of control when it came to each other. My body was still humming with adrenaline and relief of knowing that he was okay, and I found myself tearing off his clothes. I needed to be close to him, to feel his body and show him just how happy I was to have him in my life.

Later, we were laying on each other's arms, even sweatier and catching our breaths, our limbs tangled together. Cole's hair, which he had recently cut, was damp against my touch, as I brushed my fingers through it. 

Neither of us seemed eager to get up and shower, wishing we could just lay there forever. But then, Cole's stomach let out a loud grumble, reminding me how we were yet to find something to eat. And so, grudgingly, we got up and took a shower. Then we left to search for a place to dine in and to find the first postcard for Chloe.

We snapped a selfie by the small restaurant, to send for those who didn't demand for postcards from every stop on the way. The food could have only been called mediocre, but it was cheap and the restaurant was cozy in its own way. Cole scribbled creetings behind the postcard, and made me add a line as well, while we sat there finishing our sodas.

The next day of our road trip, we stopped to buy ice cream, and I couldn't resist sending Noah a picture of it. It was plain vanilla again, which I knew would dismay him to no end. True enough, Noah's answer came in a heartbeat. He was much more talkative when texting, which, I admit, didn't take much. He even linked me a list of spots to buy good, actually decent ice cream.

"Do you think there's something going on between Wilder and Declan?" I mused, showing Cole the text Wilder had sent. It was, yet again, so cryptic I could only understand one third of it, but I could comprehend that he was somewhere with Declan. Cole lifted his gaze from the two postcards he was trying to choose between.

"I don't know, but being friends is good as well." Cole pondered, picking up another card. He studied it, then put it back in the postcard display stand.

"Yeah, I guess so." I agreed and wrapped my arm around his shoulders. Then I tapped at one of the postcards, helping him choose.

Friendship was as good a relationship as any romance, and not all love had to be romantic. I was more than happy to just know that Wilder and Declan were getting along, unlike they had at the start of the school year. It was nice to know that once we returned from the road trip, we would have a group of friends waiting for us. Because, this time, I knew for sure we were going to stay in touch, even if we couldn't see each other every day.

"Let's get going, they said it's going to rain." Cole told me, before heading to the cash register. He was smiling when he came back, and I thought that some things simply are meant to last.

****

Hi! So, this is the end. I want to thank all of you who made it this far! 🖤 I'm aware that this story has been a little all over the place, and I will come back editing this at some point. But anyway, no big speeches this time. I just wanted to write a story that shows that bullying doesn't just affect the bullied. It is traumatizing and sad and terrible, so if I can ask you one thing it is that: don't be a bully. Even if it seems harmless to you, it might have a long-lasting impact on someone else.

Any comments? Questions? Feedback about the story? :)

Blue
a.k.a sweetcaressesofmay