"Jesus Christ, you drive like my Grandma," Mikey shouted, his words barely audible over the pounding beat from the speakers. The big black car in front of him slowed, red taillights flashing. "You've got to be shitting me. It's a yellow, Man!"
Mikey swerved to the left, pulling around the other car neatly, giving the driver a one-fingered salute on the way. Nipping through the intersection, he laughed, rocking back and forth.
With a throaty purr, the big car rocketed through the intersection behind Mikey, just making it before the light turned red.
Mikey laughed again, pushing his foot down harder on the pedal. So this fucker wanted to play games? Who gave a shit if the big car dwarfed his little rust bucket? No one out drove Mikey, especially not some guy who couldn't even drive the speed limit.
After a few miles, he was beginning to regret his initial glee. "What the hell are you following me for, Stalker? Christ, just go on about your business and leave me alone." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to think about what lay ahead on the route.
There wasn't much out this way. They'd left the city limits behind a few minutes ago. And, yes, he was a retard for continuing on to his house instead of staying in the city. This weirdo could be a serial killer for all he knew. At first, Mikey had ignored the presence of the big car, assuming they were just headed in the same direction. But when the car followed him out past that last turn, he started getting suspicious. Who was this guy? Was he pissed about the finger? Everyone gave the finger nowadays! At least Mikey hadn't laid on the horn like he wanted to.
The car came up behind him, tailing him closely. The man flashed his brights, blinding Mikey when he looked in the rear-view mirror. "What do you want? I'm not stopping, fuckwit, so you might as well keep driving."
Mikey tried to remember how long it would take to get to the first crossroad. He could turn around there, maybe surprise the guy enough to pull a u-ey and get back to the main roads before the guy realized what was happening. He'd turn around on the road, except his car didn't exactly have the smoothest turning. The guy could be out of his car and busting down Mikey's door in the time it took him to turn the car around.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
Ah, there it is. He spied the small turnoff up ahead. Pressing his foot on the gas pedal, he sped up. Without signalling his intent, Mikey spun the wheel to the right. With a whoop of glee, he turned on to the crossroad. "Shit..."
The black car pulled in behind him, neatly cutting him off when he tried to spin his car around. Mikey stayed in the car, peering over at the other driver. The windows were tinted, he couldn't quite make out the other figure. "Come on, man, get out of the car and stop playing with me. What do you want?" He switched off his radio, nervously tapping his fingers on the dash.
The driver's door of the other car opened. A whipcord lean man stepped out, his short black locks ruffling in the breeze. He had on a pair of wrap-around shades set high on his aquiline nose. His mouth was full, his cheekbones pronounced.
Christ, the guy was giving him a woody. He was gorgeous.
His body was encased in dark denim jeans and a long sleeved black tee. The clothes weren't tight but they still showed off his body. The man stepped forward, stalking to Mikey's door. Leaning down, he tapped on the window with his knuckles. "Open the door."
