-Speed-
Random drabble-like thing inspired by Montgomery Gentry's song of the same name. Eric and Speed aren't mine. Nor is Brian Kinney from Queer As Follk. Set Post Lost Son, around... Killer Date.
After the death of his best friend, Eric changed.
For one, he gave up on finding true love, because the one time he'd ever actually really loved anyone, and had that person love him back, they'd been taken from him in a cruel twist of fate. So, he gave up on dates and settled for sex. 'I don't believe in love, I believe in fucking. It's honest, it's efficient - you get in and out with a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of bullshit.' The proverbial Brian Kinney of Miami.
He'd gone through more one-night stands than he could count before he finally realized what was happening to him, around the same time that one of his many conquests lifted his badge. He knew he had to stop this nonsense. Speed wouldn't want him acting like this…
So, he went home, packed a few days worth of clothing, as light as possible, called out of work, and headed to the garage, where one of his last memories of Speed was waiting for him.
The banana yellow Ducati 749 sat dormant under a sheet in the corner of the room. Untouched since the death of it's previous owner. Until now.
Eric, having been forced to learn how to ride the contraption, took a page from Speed's book and just drove. Didn't care where, just as long as it was somewhere, he drove. He knew why Speed loved his bike so much, because he could feel like he was flying, and after everything they saw and went through with their jobs, it was nice to feel that freedom sometimes.
And he could swear sometimes he could feel the other man flying with him.