That is All I Ask For: Chapter 27: The Distance Between Us
The track was empty except for
the soft hum of cooling engines and the distant chirping of birds overhead. The
real races were over. The crowds had filed out. But one final race was about to
begin, private and unsanctioned.
Just for them.
Micah stood beside his car,
helmet under one arm. Across the track, Dante rolled his shoulders, gaze fixed
ahead, the air between them thick with anticipation.
It wasn’t an exhibition. It
wasn’t even a practice.
It was something they’d both
needed.
A question that had gone
unanswered far too long.
Micah slid into his seat,
strapped in, and dropped his visor. He didn’t need strategy for this. No
tactics. No shields. This was the first time he was going to let go
completely—with Dante.
Dante was already waiting at the
starting line, fingers tight on the wheel. As Micah joined him, their cars
side-by-side, the silence between them pulsed like a heartbeat.
Meredith and Daniel stood in the
distance, on the higher balcony overlooking the track. They didn’t speak. They
didn’t need to.
Daniel crossed his arms. “So it’s
finally time.”
Meredith tilted her head
slightly. “Yeah. I think he’s going to show us everything.”
Daniel glanced down at the track.
“Or just show Dante.”
A beat of silence.
Then—
Engines roared to life.
The mock signal lights blinked
red, one after another, until—
Green.
Micah and Dante took off.
The track lit up in a blur of
silver and black, the sound of engines echoing like thunder through the empty
stadium.
Dante surged forward immediately,
clean off the line, using the grip-enhanced tires Meredith had helped him test
last week. His movements were precise, measured, hungry.
But Micah—
Micah was lightning.
He didn’t start with a burst. He
flowed, as if the car were an extension of himself. Smooth arcs, late braking,
acceleration so controlled it felt supernatural. Every turn, every shift of
weight was art in motion.
Dante pushed harder.
He had raced alongside Micah.
Fought him. Missed him. Loved him.
But he had never chased him.
Not like this.
They burned through the laps,
overtaking each other again and again, but no one was winning. They weren’t
racing for victory. They were racing for clarity.
And the unspoken truth.
Halfway through, Micah stopped
holding back.
For the first time in
months—maybe years—he let the instincts take over. The muscle memory of years
on the road. The edge that made him a legend long before he joined Zero
Eclipse.
Dante felt the shift instantly.
Micah vanished into the turns,
barely touching the brakes, riding lines no one else would dare.
Dante gritted his teeth and
chased, every ounce of himself thrown into the pursuit.
Sweat gathered at the back of his
neck. His heart pounded—not just from speed, but from something deeper.
Micah was breathtaking. Fearless.
Untouchable.
And for the first time, Dante
wondered…
Was he chasing someone he could
never catch?
Meredith watched with her hand
clasped over her mouth, eyes wide.
Daniel’s brow furrowed, his voice
low. “He’s not just good. He’s terrifying.”
Meredith didn’t answer. She was
too focused.
The final lap hit.
Dante took the inner line,
braking late to cut Micah off—
—but Micah saw it coming.
He swerved out, using the
slingshot arc to overtake, his tires grazing the edge of the track without
skidding.
Dante laughed breathlessly in his
helmet. “You bastard.”
Micah’s voice crackled through
comms. “You’re the one who asked for this.”
They crossed the finish line less
than a second apart.
Silence.
Both cars slowed.
Dust settled.
Engines cooled.
The cars stopped just beside the
pit wall, neither moving for a long moment. Just the sound of their breathing
over comms.
Then, Micah stepped out first,
pulling off his helmet.
Dante followed, heart still
hammering in his chest.
Micah looked at him, face
flushed, hair mussed, something raw in his eyes.
Dante’s voice was barely a
whisper. “You’ve been holding back… this whole time.”
Micah nodded once.
Dante looked away, a bitter smile
flickering. “I don’t know if I’ll ever catch up to you.”
Micah crossed the space between
them.
“You don’t have to.” He said
softly.
Dante turned, surprised.
“I’m not going anywhere, Dante.”
Micah continued, voice low. “Not unless you tell me—scream at me—to leave.”
“I do remember you leaving
everything once.” Dante said, his voice tight.
Micah shook his head. “I was
scared. Of what I felt. Of what I wanted to feel. But I’m done running.”
Dante stared at him, a thousand
questions in his eyes.
Micah closed the distance. “If
I’m fast, I’ll slow down. If you fall behind, I’ll wait. If you stop, I’ll walk
beside you. Just—don’t think you have to catch me to be worthy of standing
beside me.”
Dante’s breath caught.
“I don’t want a rival on the
track.” Micah whispered. “I want you—however you are, however fast you are,
wherever you are.”
The heat in Dante’s chest turned
molten. The words reached every part of him that had been doubting, every part
that had felt not enough.
He reached for Micah, fingers
curling into his shirt, dragging him close.
Their kiss was fierce, emotional,
and long overdue.
It wasn’t desperate. It was
homecoming.
From the balcony, Meredith turned
to Daniel.
“We shouldn’t be here for this.” She
said gently.
Daniel nodded. “Let them have
this moment.”
They stepped back, slipping away
without a word.
Back on the track, Micah pulled
back only enough to look at Dante.
“You’re everything to me.” He
said. “On the track, off it. And I’m not going to let fear or pride steal that
again.”
Dante’s lips trembled, his eyes
shimmering. “Don’t you dare.”
Micah smiled softly. “Then make
me stay.”
Dante kissed him again.
There were no more questions. No
more doubts. Just the sound of the wind brushing past them, the fading hum of
the track, and a promise sealed not with words, but presence.
A race had started it.
But this—
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