Chapter Text
Ivan’s keys jingled at his hip as he seated himself down on his bike, the boots that gave him a little more height kicked back the kickstand, balancing himself on the balls of his feet. He needed an out, a little fresh air could do him well he figured. Between his job and the after effects of a recent break up- you could say his head was all out of sorts. Could even argue it wasn't safe to drive in these conditions , but the rush that flooded through him would always rid his mind of the worst , that's why he started riding in the first place.
Pulling back the clutch, the motor purred kindly in his ears, flipping down the visor over his face, dimming the already darkened night sky. He was new to this city, but it took him no time at all to learn the streets, what curves to hit faster and where he probably shouldn’t speed due to some heightened authority in certain areas.
Feeling the wind pass him by, flowing though his opened leather battle jacket, his nerves began to settle. Still boiling beneath his skin, it felt less like a burn and more like an itch by now. He was always ridden with anxiety, that wasn't new. What was to happen, what could happen the worst and in between. He’d given up on therapy techniques long ago, breathing into a paper bag didn't do him any good. And so he let the nighttime streets take care of him, the lights of passing cars and mingling streetlights mangled into almost art. The colors like a rainbow before his eyes, enhanced due to the darkness of the sky.
His gloved hands tightened , the leather squeaking between his fingers. Ivan swallowed deeply, revving up his engine a little quicker. Maybe the adrenaline would battle the growing intensity in his chest. The dials slowly rose, the little red numbers reminding him he was speeding up despite it feeling like the same pace. The night rushed him by, and for a moment, he wondered what it would be like to stay in this moment. Call it his nightly bout of existential dread.
How the world would still keep spinning, how the bird would arise in the morning, the clouds not hesitating to make their rotation in the sky. If he were to up and ride away forever, what really would change? He had nothing but a shitty job working on bikes, and nobody to lean on on the hardest days ... .if he just got up and left it all.
He yelped quickly as he snapped back into his thoughts, realizing he was about to run a red light, but slowing down now would have him over the handles. The last thing he needed was a fine his first week in this town. So much for a good start. IV found himself swerving, taking a left instead of forward, whipping around the corner and almost throwing his balance off enough to have him up and over his bike. Quickly he slowed himself down, but unfortunately his momentum and how he took the corner, he came to a skidding stop, the cringe of metal gears crashing together and burnt rubber.
It happened too quickly, and IV opened his eyes to a heavy weight on his chest. Grumbling, his vision slowly ebbed its way back, and he realized he was cheek down to the gravel, his bike on its side beside him. Thank whatever above it landed to his side and not on top of him. He must have gotten the wind knocked out of him, as once he gained consciousness, Ivan was scrambling to rid himself of his helmet. He couldn’t breathe.
He had ended in an empty street, and as nice as that was to his ego, as nobody probably saw his accident, it sucked now that he was alone, and God only knows where his phone landed. Wheezing, he removed his sweat slicked helmet and tossed it, getting to his knees trying to suck in any air he could manage. He could still feel all his limbs so that was a good thing. He wouldn’t truly be able to tell until the adrenaline thinned down, but he seemed pretty in check for the most part.
Ivan startled as he felt a weight on his back, cringing. Ok, maybe that hurt a little. Soon the weight was accompanied by a voice, a thick accent saying something his mind couldn't make up. He tried to manage to look at this stranger, but he wheezed into his hand once more.
“Steady on mate, don’t move, kay? Shite- do you want me to call an ambulance-”
Ivan shook his head, but that disoriented him so he figured he wouldn’t do that again.
“No- s’lright- ‘m fine- jus’-- need to- take a breath- fuck” he muttered as he changed his position, sitting cross crossed on the road beside the kneeling stranger.
He realized now they were also wearing a mask, visor over their eyes so he couldn’t tell what they looked like. A shame. Finally his breath came to, rubbing at his chest to ease it out of himself. The stranger seemed to stick by his side, the aura of worry pouring off of him.
“You sure? You took quite the tumble- its a wonder you’re coherent right now…shit you scared the fuckin’ daylights outa' me right proper!” the stranger sighed.
“But you don't know me..?” it left his lips before he could realize. Way to sound not self depreciating Ivan.
“You serious? Don’t gotta meet your fuckin' mum to make sure some guy who ate shit on his bike was okay…” there was a bitter laugh from his mouth. It sounded nice in the quiet air.
There was a long silence after that.
“You think my bike is okay..?” Ivan muttered, genuinely curious.
That caused a bark of laughter out of this stranger, “You really care about your bike that bad! Think of yourself bud, are you okay?”
Ivan lifted his left hand in front of him and then his right, twisting them to ensure nothing was sprained or broken. He seemed pretty fine, but he knew he’d be bruised to shit tomorrow , having to explain to his boss some shitty excuse as to why he looked all banged up like this. Maul with a bear..? In the city? Yeah that seemed fine.
“Really I'm fine dude..thanks though, for sticking around..” Ivan finally looked beside him
“Nothing on it, mate, not everyday I get to save a damsel in distress” the stranger snickered, walking over to Ivan’s bike.
Ivan joined him, lifting his bike with the help of the extremely tall stranger. It took a little strength but it was back up on its side. He cringed as he saw the damage, the poor paint job and new scars it adorned….to think, he just fixed it up to.
He leaned his arm on his bike, kicking down the rest, “I’m surely no damsel” Ivan scoffed with humor, lifting his helmet off the ground. The stranger neared him, practically towering over him now that he was this close. He smelt of cigarette smoke. It caused him to ruffle his nose a little. The stranger was taking off his glove, and his hand was nearing his face. Nimble fingers wiped away the tears out of his eyes. He hadn’t remembered crying..? Must have been the shock,
“I’d beg to differ, pretty boy” the stranger chuckled before moving away like it was nothing, walking back over to his own bike.
Now it had to be the most obnoxious one he’d ever seen. No avoiding authority with that one. It was a pretty thing though, shiny and taken care of. It looked to have flames down the sides over the black paint, the lights beneath his tires were a bright flashy orange and red, akin to fire. It fit his bold personality despite knowing him for a grand total of maybe five minutes total.
“You got any plans tonight? Y’know except crashing into guard rails” oh so this stranger thought he was funny.
If he could have rolled his eyes any harder, he would have, “No, that was one thing off my bucket list..” he threw back.
“Let me take you out, I was just heading a block over for a pint, come along yeah?”
“Wouldn’t that be…the last thing you’d wanna ask a stranger that just crashed his bike?” he replied back in confusion.
“You’ll come to realize I often don’t make great decisions, and it's not often I save some hot dude from like, not dying or whatever, humor me” the stranger replied, not a hint of regret in his tone.
“I don’t even know your name!” Ivan replied, quite taken back. He’d say take him to dinner first but, he wasn’t a classy guy, that died out with his ex. He’d take drinks at a pub he’d never been to before. What did he have to lose?
“Name’s Theo..” the stranger looked hesitant, that flame dying out quickly, “Nobody calls me that I don't know why I told you that…scratch that-” he perked up with a chuckle, “call me three.” Ivan could practically hear the smirk in that tone underneath his mask.
“Okay…? Nice to meet you. Despite the circumstances.” he paused for a moment, “Alright, to hell with it, lead the way yeah?”
Three seemed to hesitate, “aren’t you gonna, you know, tell me your name?” three motioned while getting onto his bike. Flaming red combat boots kicked back the stand holding it up.
"Maybe, if you're lucky enough..” Ivan responded in a sly manner.
Three seemed bewildered for a moment before chuckling to himself, “alright, ya’ bastard, lets get a move on”
One thing stuck in his mind though. The giant patch sewn into the shorter man’s jacket , stitched in what looked to be purposely sloppy white stitching. Among all the other designs, he couldn’t shake one.
In bold numerals, the numbers “IV”.