Chapter 2: Helmet Hair

  Once the coffee was brewed and in his Indiana Jones cup, Tony went back to his articles. He checked the time on his phone and it read six fifty-three. Well, he'd managed to kill an hour and a half. Should he watch a movie? Go out for breakfast? Eventually he decided to get a shower, then he could figure out what to do next.

  As he made his way to the bedroom, Tony snapped up a washcloth and towel from the hallway closet and threw them on the bathroom floor and went into his closet. After he'd decided on a grey Adidas shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of purple plaid boxers, he threw them into the bathroom, too. With a big swig of coffee, he stepped onto the frigid, ice-cold tile. It was ridiculous that there was no heat in the bathroom except for steam from the shower. At least it would be nice and toasty afterwards, because he needed a molten one. Tony loved showers hot enough to turn his skin pink and he whipped the curtain back once he downed his last sip of coffee. The hot water felt so good that he stepped directly into the stream and soaked himself.

  There was no need to rush, so Tony turned around to let the hot water fall on his neck and down his back. While he soaked under the heavenly spray, he took a stroll through his thoughts. Tony was twenty-two years old on that day. While he knew he was still quite young, it was kind of surreal to him that he made it so far. It felt like not too long ago that he was a dumbass kid. Even though he'd had a tough childhood, it wasn't bad. He had Ethan and there were many good times as well. As long as he had Ethan- 'No. Don't go down that road right now,' Tony thought. The guilt of his unfaithfulness would plague him for hours if he did. He wiped the water off his face and slicked his hair back. Shampoo in hand, he rubbed it between his hands then ran it through his hair as he lathered it into a thick foam.

  The scent of the sandalwood shampoo he used along with the wet heat of the shower, Tony found himself a lot less tense. "A hot-ass shower can be the best medicine," He'd always say. Once Tony lathered up his washcloth with a bar of his signature sandalwood soap, he took his time as he cleaned everywhere. After he had rinsed off the shampoo and soap, he took another few extra minutes to stand under the hot water. The apartment might not have heat vents or elements in the bathrooms, but they did have on-demand water heaters. That was largely why Dillon teased him for how long he showered. If he had unlimited hot water, how could he not stand under such a miracle of nature for at least thirty minutes? Dillon just didn't understand the small little things in life and had to get through his showers at the speed of sound.

  As Tony got out of the shower and started to dry off, he remembered that it was the second birthday that he'd been with Dillon. It made him smile and he realized Dillon was his gift, the "making up of misfortune" that his brother had talked about. Dillon made up for all of his misfortunes and made all the pains of life worth it. Tony had met him and slashed his elbow with a screwdriver accidentally not long after his twentieth birthday. The best of belated birthday presents.

  Habit had him wipe the mirror clean of steam, but he was very careful to not wipe away the 'Dillon was here, fuckhead!' that had been on his mirror whenever he steamed it up for nearly a year now. It never failed to get a grin out of him. Tony put on deodorant and ran a bit of hair wax through his hair as he spiked it in the front a bit. A few days prior, he'd gotten it trimmed a little shorter than usual. Dillon for sure seemed to like it, especially with the goatee he had grown to accompany it. Once he had patted on a touch of his favourite cologne called Diesel, he got dressed and left the bathroom. Then he took his old red plaid boxers and washcloth to the hamper and threw his towel over the bedroom door to dry. Shower towels he used a couple times to help cut down on laundry volume. Anyone who had a problem with it could piss off.

  Out to the living room he went and he snapped up his phone he had left on the couch on his way to the balcony for a smoke. The shower had put him in a good mood and he wanted to appreciate the day. He swiped his phone open and saw it was almost quarter to eight already. Just then, his phone buzzed in his hand with a text from Dillon. The twerp must have fallen back asleep. Dillon and mornings did not mix. It was never fun to wake him up, either. 

  Most of the time, Tony wouldn't talk to him until he'd had coffee in him, unless Dillon addressed him first. It was downright dangerous to be peppy around him, too. If Tony talked to him in a peppy tone before coffee, he'd explode. Once in a while he woke up on the right side of the bed, though. Those mornings were fun. Tony looked down at the couple texts from Dillon as he popped a cigarette into his mouth and lit up.

  Dillon 7:42 AM: Yes Sir. I won't disappoint you. Since it's your bday can you show negative mercy? Lol

  7:44 AM: I'll be over around noon, Sir.

  Tony 7:45 AM: Around noon? Pick a time and be punctual. Youll get what you get. 

  Dillon 8:02 AM: Ok, 12:30 Sir. I'll take everything as always. 

  Tony 8:11 AM: Good. Do NOT be late. See you soon. ;)

  Dillon 8:23 AM: I won't Sir I promise. Leavin for breakfast now. Ttyl :)

  That made him smile. The title 'Sir'(capital S) always got him in the zone. Upon that realization, he frowned at how aroused he was. Their short conversation had him fired up and he'd be without release for an entire four hours. It was unbearable. He'd never been so turned on by anyone before. Why was he into Dillon so much? He was attracted to very few other men and had only typically thought of women as hot. Well, they were, but to Tony, Dillon was on another level. Something about him... maybe his spirit? His heart? Perhaps it was his kindness or the bluebell flames that were his eyes?

  Dillon's soul itself was attractive and Tony fell in love with that before anything else. Though it was after he was forgiven for his betrayal that he really started to fall for him quickly. It showed him how much Dillon really loved him and wanted to make their relationship work. The people in his life he truly cherished and he would do anything for them. At the end of the day however, there was really no set reason or reasons why he loved and was attracted to Dillon to the degree that he was. If there were, he didn't care. He had concluded that he loved and was wildly hot for Dillon because he was Dillon. An individual of the highest tier. Tony loved Dillon for Dillon. It was pretty simple really, after he thought about it. Love could be found in the craziest of places. Who was he to question it? 

  Once he finished his smoke, he decided to go out and find somewhere that sold greasy breakfast food. He knew Dillon would have food for him when he got there, but it didn't matter. Tony was hungry then and there, and he'd most certainly be hungry again in four hours. Besides, he was a young man with a fast metabolism who was very active. Tony wasn't quite sure what kind of breakfast he would go with yet. Not breakfast sandwiches; Dillon had him covered there. Pancakes? 'No, too sweet.' Eggs? Scrapple? 'Split thin and fried crisp.' The options were endless. Eventually he decided to go with the Sunnyside Diner, which was only a mile or so up the street. 

  Tony got his boots and jacket on, then sauntered down to where Harley Q. glimmered in the sun. It was a very short but chilly ride, and he backed into a spot right in front of the diner. Kickstand securely out, he pulled his helmet off and combed his hair back into alignment with a comb he kept in his back pocket. It was actually a multi-purpose pocket knife, with many different heads. There were screwdrivers, knives, files, a bottle opener, a corkscrew, even a pair of scissors. It had been a Christmas present from Adrian many years before and held a good bit of sentimental value to him. That in and of itself was unusual, as he usually wasn't a sentimental person. Not with physical objects anyway. It was just such a cool gift, from the man that was the closest thing Ethan and he had to a father. Tony's favourite head by far was the comb.

  It was a pretty nice day. Mid-sixties maybe and the sun was out full force already. Vibrant rays of light bounced off the other cars in the lot and off the beautiful green buds on the trees that heralded the arrival of spring. The breeze that accompanied it felt awesome as he took a deep breath and soaked in the warmth of the sun for a moment. He felt free. Alive. Although, his helmet hair was ungodly and was bothersome to his peaceful frame of mind. That had always been something he didn't like about bikes. Helmets and the damn helmet hair. It was Dillon's fault, too. Since he had met him, he'd been on his ass to wear a helmet. Tony conceded pretty quickly though. However, just because the shitty brat was right didn't mean he had to like it.