A few years ago I had the pleasure to work with a little known musician named Sonny Moore. The shoot was a feature for Alternative Press Magazine. Sonny was young, focused, and had a ton of energy. From the second I met Sonny I was immediately taken by his passion for creativity. He was on board with all of my ideas and even pushed some of them to the edge…to the point where his own safety was on the line. Sonny’s career has recently skyrocketed to superstardom as a DJ/Producer under his current stage name Skrillex, winning 6 Grammys and catapulting the Dubstep trend into the mainstream.
Sonny eagerly scrambles up onto the back of the BMW S1000RR using Jon’s shoulder for leverage, almost pulling him off in the process. His tiny frame drowns in Jon’s spare motorcycle jacket, and the overlarge sleeves bunch up around the equally large gloves. The knee guards strapped over Sonny’s pants knock against Jon’s sides as Sonny wiggles around to get comfortable.
“Are you sure all this gear is necessary, man?”
Visions of blood spattered across the highway and splintered bone jutting through open wounds flash through Jon’s mind.
“Yes.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
Jon doesn’t always wear as much protection as he should, but when riding solo he’s prepared to take that risk. Riding with a passenger—riding with Sonny—is a completely different story. He would never forgive himself for harming even a single hair on the boy’s head.
Once they’re both settled, he turns on the ignition, flips the kill switch, and starts the engine. Sonny doesn’t seem too concerned by the idling engine so he releases the clutch a bit and gives it some gas. Just to make sure he’s paying attention. At the sudden movement Sonny flings his arms around Jon’s middle with an adorable squeak and clings like a frightened koala. Jon tries, and fails, to contain his laugh at that particular mental image. “I told you earlier to told on tight!”
Sonny mumbles something under his breath in return but his helmet and the purr of the engine muffle the sound. Jon’s not worried though. If it were someone else he might have been concerned, but this is Sonny and Sonny isn’t afraid of anything.
It takes them a little less than half an hour to escape the annoying stop-and-go traffic of the city before the roads clear out allowing him to finally pick up some speed. Sonny grips him tighter, if that’s even possible, and their helmets knock together as he leans in to rest his head on Jon’s shoulder.
“FASTER?” Jon has to yell over the roar of the engine and the wind whistling through their helmets. Again, he can’t hear his response, but this time he feels Sonny’s enthusiastic nod against his shoulder blade. He accelerates.
The landscape whips by in a blur of color and the beautiful sound of Sonny’s laughter reaches his ears over the noise. Jon can feel his body heat through the thick layers of padding and leather. It seeps into his back, warming him through the slight chill of the wind.
Sonny’s thighs clench around his waist and he suddenly wonders why he was so opposed to this idea in the first place.
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