PitBabeS2, Chapter 1 pg4

 pg4

   “What?” The famous racer yelped. “Why would you smoke? Are you crazy?”

   “If you don’t quit, Babe, it doesn’t matter whether I smoke or not, does it?”

   Babe was at a loss for words. Truth be told, he felt guilty for breaking his promise. He had told Charlie he’d quit smoking and cut down on drinking for the sake of their health. Babe had been trying to quit for a while, but he had to admit it wasn’t easy for someone like him. Especially in an environment where everyone still drank and puffed away as usual, a weak-willed guy like him easily gave in and couldn’t go cold turkey.

   “Okay, okay, I won’t smoke anymore,” Babe said softly, ruffling the head of his “puppy” before messing up the other’s soft hair until it was all fluffed up. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw Charlie’s pouty face. This image of Pitbabe might have been historic two years ago, but now it was something everyone was used to seeing—the great King completely defeated by a kid. “Sorry.”

   “Saying sorry means you have to follow through,” Charlie sighed lightly, gathering his tablet and other things before standing up and walking off. Babe didn’t follow to coax him further. He chuckled softly, watching his young boyfriend disappear behind the pit, unbothered, as if he’d seen this scene a thousand times.

   “Not gonna go make up with him?” Alan asked. Babe plopped down in the spot Charlie had just left, leaning back and crossing his legs casually.

   “He’s not that upset, just pouting as usual. He’ll get over it.”

   “You don’t care at all, do you?”

   “I have my own way of making up,” Pitbabe shrugged, making an annoying face. “Don’t worry, Papa, my Charlie isn’t a barking dog like your boyfriend.”

   “Calling others a dog? That’s not nice,” came a voice. As if on cue, the person mentioned strolled in, Jeff swinging a toolbox just centimeters past Babe’s head. The racer dodged in the nick of time, then glared at Alan, who was giggling with delight, not at all concerned about how serious it would’ve been if that heavy metal toolbox had actually hit him.

   “So, who’s the one with sharp ears, Charlie or Jeff?” Babe grumbled, his face a mix of fear and irritation.

   “Garage owner’s senses,” Alan laughed heartily, standing up to join the “real garage owner,” leaving the King, who’d nearly been ambushed, to sulk in annoyance.

   The announcer’s voice grew more intense as the final race was about to begin. The racers made their last checks on equipment, as well as their physical and mental states.

   “Excited?” Babe asked Charlie, who was slipping on a new pair of gloves with practiced ease. He couldn’t help but feel proud. Today’s Charlie was a far cry from the stumbling kid who’d once come begging to borrow a car. Charlie was calmer, more composed, no longer the frantic, startled chicken he used to be. The X-Hunter racing suit seemed to meld perfectly with his identity, no longer looking like he was just borrowing someone else’s gear.

   Charlie had really grown up.

   “A little,” Charlie replied with a smile. Though he said he was excited, his demeanor was so calm that Babe couldn’t help but think this kid was kind of intimidating. “What about you, Babe? Excited?”

   “Nah, I’m used to it,” the King shrugged, helping adjust his boyfriend’s racing gear. “Focus, stay sharp.”

   “You too, Babe. Don’t just sneak glances at me and get overtaken.”

   “When have I ever done that, huh?”

   “Yesterday”

   “Okay, then try to look less handsome too.”

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