Race With a Heart
Chapter 245: The Closure

Chapter 245: The Closure

Adrenaline pulsed through Steve’s veins making his body burn with the desire for action. It also burned with something more when he looked at the scoreboard. His boy, his Martin had done really well. Steve imagined them riding on the track together, during a real race, and felt a delightful thrill. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He should remember that he is among people, not in his dream zone.

"Congratulations, great result." Fiorelli, vice champion of this and the previous season patted him on the shoulder. "How do you feel back on the track?"

"Like I can finally breathe," he answered truthfully.

"So I can assume that the rumors about your premature retirement are just rumors?"

Steve twisted his lips in a contemptuous smile.

"Me and retirement?" he replied with a shade of bravado. Then he sighed. "I admit, I had some health problems and there was a risk that I wouldn’t return to the track, but that’s behind me now," he said.

"I’m glad. If I had been in danger of never racing again..."

"It’s funny. It was so sudden that I didn’t know what to do with my life, but at least I learned that even we should have something off the track. Or someone."

"Oh, could it be a woman?"

"Are you looking for a scandal to let loose in the media or private advice? I thought Italians didn’t have problems with women."

"The only problem Italians have is women. We think about them all the time and it’s not enough for anything else."

"And yet you did not do too badly. Although you got a second time result."

"Only because I like to attack."

Steve laughed. He felt pleasant talking to his rival. He usually didn’t allow himself to be as effusive as he was now, but the threat of never returning to the track changed his perspective. Car racing is not just about the car and the track, but also about people. The other drivers, yes, were his rivals, but in a sense they were also buddies with whom he spent many hours a week. Up to now, Steve had not fraternized with them. The rivalry was strong, so the drivers were usually also antagonistic to each other off the track in order to stimulate the desire to fight, but that was not the reason why Paxton kept his distance from them. He just didn’t get close to anyone. Martin allowed him to open his heart to people and the threat of never being on the track again made him realize that he would miss them all. Because even though they weren’t cordial buddies, they were part of his life, someone he could identify with through his dreams, hopes and fears.

"Um" pondered Steve recalling the last pretend race where he started from the third last starting position "all in all you are right. Maybe next time I’ll try starting from second position."

Fiorelli smiled crookedly.

"Don’t worry, already in this race you will have plenty of chances to try to get my ass. I intend to take you within five laps."

"Uuuuu... that many? I’d take you in three."

If this were a cartoon, there would probably be lightning bolts between their eyes right now. Steve, however, felt really pleasant to be back in this world that was car racing. Really, if for some reason it was taken away from him, he would probably be the most miserable guy in the world or at least that’s how he would feel. When you’re a fish you have to be in the water, when you’re a racing driver you have to race.

He was positively thrilled, yet he noticed that people suddenly started looking at their smartphones and behaving strangely. Apparently, some sensational news had appeared online. Steve didn’t care at all. He was not interested in gossip. Looking proudly at the scoreboard, he waited for Martin to get out of the car and appear in that common room where drivers relaxed and killed time.

He didn’t wait long. Martin appeared with his helmet off, wiping sweat from his forehead. He was tired, but his green eyes were shining with satisfaction. He had a lot to be happy about. He had achieved a truly outstanding result. But immediately as he entered, his eyes became restless. Then, too, Steve noticed that the atmosphere in the room thickened and everyone’s eyes wandered from Martin to him.

He furrowed his brow and felt a chill on the back of his neck.

"I think you should see this," Fiorelli handed him his smartphone. Another driver did the same for Martin.

’Hot gay affair at Fergus Stables’ proclaimed the headline of an article published on a gossip site that was quite widely known. But what caught the eye most was something completely different - a photo in a very explicit situation, where Steve was passionately taking Martin. True, their faces and most of their bodies were a mosaic of pixels theoretically making it impossible to recognize the men, but for some reason it was not difficult to recognize who the participants in this scene were.

Paxton’s first thought at that moment was: "I’m going to kill that fucking Augustus!". It lasted only a moment, however, because there was something much more important. He raised his eyes to Martin.

Martin was pale. However, his eyes were shining proudly looking straight at Steve. They had not yet discussed how they should behave if their relationship came to light. They didn’t have time for that. Now it was too late. Now all they could do was react to what had happened. They could deny it, refuse to comment causing further rumors, or they could come forward.

"I would have preferred my family to find out in another way, but..."

Steve knew. Martin didn’t want to lie. He smiled at his track and life partner and took his hand as he approached. Their hands intertwined and their eyes met. The world could say what it wanted about them, but they were together and they were proud of it.

***

"In light of the recent Fergus Stables scandal, does the Laura Benson brand still intend to sponsor their athletes?"

Loreen Benson smiled like a lioness of the salon and a successful woman at the same time.

"Of course. More so now than before. Previously we had planned to contract only Steve Paxton, at this point we are going to make all three of the current drivers of the Fergus Stable, who will ride with the company next season, the faces of our company."

A flurry of whispers passed through the room where the Laura Benson brand press conference was being held. Loreen, who dressed especially for the occasion, donning a combination of red and black, was pleased with the impression her announcement had made. She felt sorry for Karl Walton, who at that moment was dealing with a media storm and was already instructing lawyers to take care of removing the mosaic-covered photo from the web, but Loreen had to take advantage of the situation. Sorry, Karl, but you and your boys might as well get some benefits of this. Walton shook his head resignedly: "Do what you want, he said, just ask those two first."

Those two were, of course, the drivers suggested in the article. Their names didn’t come up, of course, but only a blind man wouldn’t guess who they were referring to. Martin and Steve pondered for a moment and then gave her the green light.

"In recent years, it has become particularly noisy on the subject of sexual diversity," she continued with confidence. "All the parades, media appearances, more or less successful film and television projects have made this topic even more controversial and society even more divided. Our company does not discriminate against anyone based on sexual orientation. Our company is interested in achievements in sports. Car racing has always been a very masculine sport and the drivers from the Fergus Stable have proven time and again that they are among the best. In my eyes, they are the embodiment of real men in a truly manly profession. Whether they are established champions at the peak of their careers or young men just entering the professional world, they embody sportsmanship and healthy competition. This is precisely the kind of steadfast attitude in sports that we are concerned with. This is what we want to promote. I am proud that just such men have agreed to be the faces of our company."

She rolled her eyes around the room surveying the reactions her speech elicited, and was pleased that only the thumping of fingers on laptop keyboards could be heard. Yes, that’s exactly the point. An actor should be judged by his work in films, a journalist by his articles, and an athlete by his sports achievements. That’s all there is to it, and if that’s still too much for someone and he views someone solely through the prism of who that person sleeps with, that’s his problem.

Loreen looked to the side, where Steve and his boyfriend, Martin, were watching from backstage at the press conference. They stood close, almost touching shoulders, a little nervous, but she could see the praise in their eyes. They looked excellent next to each other. Steve was tall and black-haired, with distinctly masculine, somewhat predatory facial features. Martin was shorter, with light brown hair and softer features. Both had athletic bodies and the faces of Greek gods. They could sleep with whomever they wanted, they slept with each other, and looking at them Loreen could see that there was more than just sex between them. Their body language made it clear that they were so much more to each other.

She felt a stab of jealousy. She had once had an affair with Steve, but with her he had never been so relaxed and so... happy. Money, fame, even sex is nothing when you meet that one right person in life. She envied him so much. She envied them both. But she was rooting for them. If they managed to find the love with which they proudly look to the future, maybe she too will find it someday. Maybe.

Martin, Steve, may you always be as sure of your love as you are now, because you truly deserve it.

THE END

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