the road to hell
closed starter with @junkdrawerkids
The bike felt like heaven between his thighs, raw power and heat, and all of it was under his control. As Steve Rogers sped down the road, heading who-knows-where—away from the downtown, where devastation was still the main event—he felt more relief than he’d experienced since awakening from the ice. Part of the pressure, I guess, he thought absently, when it lets up, I forget how bad things used to be. Steve recognized the pattern, but this had to be easily the heaviest burden that had been lifted from him in a long time.
As he pulled up to a stoplight, however, Captain America noted an almost uncomfortably familiar figure on the side of the road, her (very expensive-looking) heels about to hit the cross walk as red-orange hand became briskly jogging, white figure. “Comtesse…?” His mouth made the syllables, but did not audibly express them. No way. There’s no way. I’m… seeing things. I must be.
