(c) 2015 GingerM
The characters appearing in this story are used with permission of their owners.
Kyrell pushed his ball cap back, then planted his fists on his hips. No doubt about it; it was a great day to go racing! Cars snarled around the track in warm-up, the throaty engine notes dropping sharply as the drivers downshifted into the switchback. This was the best kind of racing... a pick-up meet, guys - and more than a few gals - bringing their cars to see what they could do. In some ways it was better than SCCA, NASCAR or Indy; the rules in big-name racing were so predictable. Saturday meets like this were far more fun. About the only rule was to divide cars up by engine displacement; except in highly unusual circumstances, there was no point in pitting a Smartcar against a Corvette. Even so, there were some pretty odd matchups within a class. He would be racing later, but at the moment, he was keeping an eye out for a black-cherry Sebring coupe, with a certain Appaloosa horsegirl at the wheel. Rhia was new to racing but there was nothing wrong with hir basic instincts, and shi definitely love the speed! The only concession shi'd made to safety was to install a roll bar and a five-point harness, since stock Sebrings didn't have either. They also didn't sport bored-out 3.7 litre V6s, either, and with his help and guidance to tweak the engine and transmission computers - since he
was
a software guru by day - hir Sebring had a pretty fair chance.
The muscular red tiger glanced down the line of car bays. He recognized the tall, curly-maned panther who was working on what looked like a Beemer two bays down, and between them was a familiar silver Mini Clubman -
looks like Demona's
, he reflected - with its hood up. His golden eyes lingered, admiring the pert, round curve of the mechanic's rear and the hot pants that clung to it like a second skin. Since there was nothing to do for now while Rhia ran hir laps, he saw no point in wasting the opportunity, and sauntered over to the Mini's work bay. "Hey, Aidan," he nodded to the handsome black panther.
Aidan grunted softly, his fingers straining - he could just feel the other end of the connector - and flexed, extending his claws. They snagged the elusive wiring harness, and before it could escape him again, he wiggled the other connector into place and felt as much as heard the click as they mated. He'd been looking forward to the race, eager to try his new wheels on the track and see what they could do before he started tinkering. Unfortunately, he'd had a bad MAP sensor and changing it was a cast-iron bitch of a job with the engine in. But it was done, finally, and he straightened, then arched back to work the kinks out of his back. He turned toward the movement in his peripheral vision, and a grin lifted the corner of his muzzle. Demona's Mini was in the next bay, and as usual, Racer was working on it. The panther grinned at the sight of the chinchilla's sexy, round rump, then flicked a salute to the silver-striped red tiger coming from the far bay. "Hullo, Kyrell," he greeted him as he stepped into the Mini's bay.
Racer hummed softly to himself in a light, clear tone as he slowly adjusted the setscrew. The pretty chinchilla boy loved working on Demona's car. She was a pretty fair mechanic herself when she needed to be, but it amused her to let Racer putter with her Mini, so she could relax in the currently un-used media lounge above the bleachers. He had a knack for finding the car's 'sweet spot' when tuning it - all he had to do was cock his head to one side, his ears quivering, his eyes half-closed as the note of the engine seemed to enter and go straight to his skilled fingers. At the moment he was fine-tuning the throttle linkage; he wasn't happy with the engine response and was sure he could improve it. For now he was adjusting cold, feeling the play of tension in the throttle body against the spring, and once he was satisfied with that, he'd run the engine and tweak the adjustments.
He started slightly at the sound of the two voices, and with an lithe wiggle he pulled back and straightened up. "Oh, um, hi, guys," he smiled in greeting.
Aidan and Kyrell...!
The chinchilla's heart started beating faster in his chest as they stepped into the bay, and in an unconsciously feminine gesture he ran his hands through his short locks. "W-what can I do for you?"
Both cats' smiles widened; the chinchilla's soft voice, slim form and effeminate manner was turning them both on rapidly. Aidan glanced casually up and down the length of the row; no-one else was around at the moment and his gaze swung back to Racer. "Well now, that's a question, isn't it?" Kyrell replied with a grin. "Looks like you need a break," Aidan added, his voice a rumbling purr of a chuckle. As one, the two big cats closed in on Racer, who looked up, his eyes moving quickly from one to the other.
"A-a b-break?" he stammered, taken aback. It was obvious what they wanted from him... and Racer felt a thrill run through him. Demona had set him up with partners before, in scenarios where he was more or less forced to submit, be it ever so willingly. Nips had been a wonderful experience, taking him roughly in Demona's garage; he'd also been bent over by Ardanis... though Ardanis was doing a fair bit of subbing himself these days. But while he'd fantasized about Aidan and Kyrell, he'd never worked up the nerve to ask Demona if she would...
arrange
something... and now here they both were... had Demona done this as a gift for him, for being a good boy? A smile trembled lightly on his lips - he didn't want to presume, but... and it was them... both lovely,