The end of the line

The winds directed him..he listened, drove blindly—he knew the roads too well. Only cruising around since he was seventeen, he was always cautious while gripping those rubber handle bars. He knew the dangers of riding a motor vehicle, everybody around him hated people on bikes, but he loved them. Until one very night that could've changed everything...

"I'm going for a drive mom." He said, as he hooked his materials backpack over his back, reaching for the door knob.

"Please be careful dear, you know how I hate that bike." His mom announced her opinion, her hand putting to work stirring the pot that would be their dinner. Clay thinned his lips and nodded before swinging open the door and stepping out into the golden breeze of late night Florida—a Saturday afternoon, the sun was setting.

Slipping on his gloves as he swung his leg over the motor bike that presented itself a dark neon green with black rimming—it looked more black than green. His jet black helmet resting on the right handle glistening in against the yellow and orange painted sky.

He twisted his key into the ignition, listening to the sound of his motor bike rev, it eased all his problems, the pent up stress disappeared, leaving him to relax against its leather seat. Kicking up the kick stand as he let it gently roll backwards before taking full control of the bike, backing out and turning out of the driveway.

He usually only went for drive when he was stressed or just needed a break from something—other times he just missed riding around on his bike that he paid so much for not to be used as much. The street light glowing red soon enlightened him pulling him to a stop. He took a deep breath as he scanned his surroundings.

There was a lot of cars out, but that never scared him. As the light turned green on his end he sped off, alerting the car beside him of his competition. He had an camera attached to the front of his bike that stayed on every time he drove—after an motor accident that happened to his uncle leading him to death, he never drives without the thing on.

It's one reason his mother despised Clay when he bought the bike, knowing that his mother's brother was killed in a motorcycle crash—the driver of the other vehicle got away with it, leaving a unfair grieving family to suffer.

Clay drove freely, listening to the winds, the noise of waters rushing up over the shore of the beach whenever he passed it on the road. He loved his bike. He took great care of it, never once had a dent let alone a scratch.

Traffic up ahead stopped him, leaving him to surround other cars. Luckily, he could see an opening for him to enter, he never had a problem with this type of stuff as he could just drive his way through.

However, as he took the right away, a car swerved in front of him, knocking him clean off his bike—sliding across the open road where millions of cars tried to pass, his bike slid with him from such force—he was out cold. He laid there, taking deep breaths as he realized what just happened.

He tried to sit up, but pains shot up his back causing him to curse out and lay back down. He could hear commotion around him, car doors slamming and people shouting. Nobody came to his rescue, until he opened his eyes to see a beautiful man leaning over him, listening for a heart beat.

Clay was in awe, the man was stunning, an angel. Beautiful brown eyes, chocolate drizzled hair that curled effortlessly. His face looked smooth, pale.

"C-Can you hear me?"

The man spoke in a rush, concerned for Clays health. Clay couldn't feel any pain, besides in his right hand and his back as he sat up. Clay kind of smiled under his helmet.

"I-I," he couldn't get words out of his mouth, he was in awe so hard.

"Call an ambulance."

The pretty man said, looking up at another concerned person, as Clay tried to see who he spoke to he hissed at the sudden pain in his neck. The man carefully turned his head back.

"Try not to move too much."

Okay. He'd listen to this gorgeous man any day, anytime. He wanted to know his name.

"Y-You are beautiful." Clay spoke quietly underneath his helmet, the man leaned in as he couldn't hear his softened tone.

"I'm sorry? I couldn't hear you."

You're beautiful. Clay went to take his helmet off, slightly sitting up but wincing and whimpering in pain before he finally threw the helmet off and laid back, taking a massive breath. The brown haired man stayed by his side, a hand on his chest and the other under his head.

"You're beautiful." He breathed, looking up at the man who grew flushed and looked away.

"Is the ambulance on their way?"

He asked the other person that Clay couldn't look up to see, his neck was in too much pain so he remained staring at this random man's beauty.

"P-Please.." Clay spat, trying to get his attention—it worked beautifully as the man quickly looked back down at him in concern.

"D-Don't tell my mom, don't- don't, I was not in a wreck." He started panicking, remembering his mother would flip her shit and never let him ride ever again. He tried to sit up but the man gently pushed him back.

"Don't sit up, just lay down, the ambulance is on their way."

"Don't leave me." Clay spat, his voice shaky in fear, he'd never felt so terrified in his entire life. He lived fearless. The handsome man nodded as he looked up at the traffic, people were honking trying to get around.

"I think you hit your head a little too hard."

The man giggled, still resting his left hand on Clay's chest. Clay chuckled and took a deep breath.

"I didn't, I had a helmet on." He said softly, catching the small grin from the brunet. "What's your name beautiful?" Clay choked—the sirens of the ambulance were close.

"I'm George, what's your name?"

This was the man's way of keeping him alert, using his beauty. Clay wasn't complaining.

"I'm Clay, Clay Huff. Can I get your number?" He asked, he was being bold, careless as he laid there possibly about to die. The sirens got closer and his heart skipped a beat, he might never see this man again. The man stood up and held his phone to his chest.

"W-Wait..wait!" Clay started to panic, he sat up, ignoring the pain up his back, the man knelt back down trying to get him to lay back down but he resisted, he was still strong, his muscles worked still.

"Lay down Clay."

The man spoke, Clay shook his head and grabbed the man's looking into his eyes.

"Please, you're in pain."

The man begged, Clay felt bad for disobeying him all for his number.

"I w-want your number. Stay with me, please." Clay said, he sounded like a child, but he didn't care. He needed someone on the way to the ambulance.

"The paramedics have you, you'll be okay. Do you want me to call someone? A parent?"

"No!" Clay was quick to respond, he shook his head as the ambulance approached them. "I just want you to stay with me." He begged quietly. The man swallowed harshly as the paramedics pushed him away, checking up on Clay. The blond kept his eyes on the man hesitating.

The paramedics took care of him, George sat back and watched, hesitating. He felt bad, the man was begging for him to go with him, he was scared, but so was George—and he didn't even know this gorgeous blond man.

The last time they saw each other was as the paramedics hauled him into the back of the ambulance and shut the doors leaving him alone beside a paramedic keeping him alive.