#Best engine oil for two wheeler

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Highway Heat

Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the trucker you flag down offers more than just roadside assistance.

A/N: Lord oh lord… I tried to be good i swear, i really tried to behave. The thing is my sweet beta reader @hautecouture02 requested a little roadside encounter one shot with Joel, specifically asking for FLUFF, and i swear on everything holy I tried my best to keep it PG… but sometimes things don’t go as I planned. So here, take this absolute filth of a one shot that’s little more than PWOP. ENJOY!!!!

Warnings: As previously stated, this is pretty much PWOP, Trucker!Joel i know nothing about trucks lol, maybe some dub!con at first but the internal dialogue shows hella consent, groping, fingering, a bit of praise and a bit of degradation, pet names like so many of them im not gonna list them all almost too many pet names if you believe in such a thing, grinding, oral male receiving, deep throating

Masterlist

You’re a good person—hell, a great person even. You give your spare change to homeless people, you donate to the puppy shelter every once in a while, you hold your friend’s hair back when they’re throwing up in the back of the club. You’re definitely not the type of person who deserves to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, sweating buckets despite wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap tank and the tiniest pair of shorts you own. This feels like some kind of cosmic punishment.

It is, undoubtedly, the worst possible time for your car to stop working. You’d been putting off the usual checkups on your car for months, knowing full well it was overdue for an oil change, a tire rotation—or whatever men who know their way around a toolbox always say. Your ex used to handle all of that for you, always acting like it was his job to make sure your car ran smoothly. He was that kind of guy who would go out of his way to make your life easier—didn’t mean he was above cheating though.

So now, you’re stuck in your geriatric Honda Civic, the AC busted and the engine refusing to start.

After a few minutes of trying to will it back to life, it’s clear you’re stranded.

You step out of the car, and the heat hits you like a goddamn slap to the face. The road’s deserted, no signs of life for miles, and of course, your phone has no signal. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. You glance down the road, hoping for a miracle, when you spot the rough outline of a truck—a big one, maybe a sixteen-wheeler—coming up in the distance.

Relief washes over you for about two seconds before your brain kicks in, running through every horror movie scenario. But it’s not like you’ve got a buffet of options, so you throw up your hand, waving the truck down as it rolls closer.

It’s a beat-up old thing, paint chipped and covered in dust, but it comes to a slow stop right behind your car. The door creaks open, and out steps a man.

He’s tall, broad, with a face lined with age and tan from long days under the sun. The net cap he wears lets a few of his longer dark curls peek out, the front pieces overpowered by graying hair. He sports a faded plaid shirt and jeans, a pair of well-worn boots kicking up dust as he steps toward you. His dark, intense eyes size you up like you’re part of the landscape he’s used to navigating.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” His voice is deep and gravelly, but the drawl is the star of the show, thick and sweet like honey.

You clear your throat, trying to keep your frustration in check. “Car broke down. Won’t start. No service either.”

He nods slowly, like this is exactly the kind of situation he expects to find out here. “Well, good thing I’m passin’ through.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at that, but desperation makes you bite your tongue. “Think you could take a look?”

He stares at you for a moment, long enough that you wonder if he’s going to offer any help at all. But then he lets out a low sigh, scratches the back of his neck, and walks over to your car, popping the hood like it’s second nature.

For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of him tinkering under the hood, the occasional grunt or muttered curse as he checks things out. You stand there awkwardly, feeling the heat bearing down on you, watching as beads of sweat gather at the back of his neck.

Finally, he steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shit’s runnin’ on fumes. When’s the last time you had it serviced?””

You shift, feeling stupid. “A while. My ex used to handle it, and, uh… I’ve been busy.”

He gives you a look, something between amusement and pity, before shaking his head. He leans against the car, arms crossed. “I can tow you to a shop in the next town, but it gon’ be a ride.”

You blink up at him, surprised at his offer. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” he says, with a shrug, “I’m headin’ that way anyway.”

He moves back to his truck, grabbing a few chains and a tow hitch from the back. Within minutes, he’s hooking up your beat-up Honda Civic to the rear of his truck, working with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before.

“You sure this is safe?” you ask, watching him as he tightens the last chain.

“As safe as it’s gonna get,” he replies with a shrug, brushing the dust from his hands. “Ain’t no mechanic shop out here, so this’ll do ‘til we get to the next town.”

You hesitate, then eye him. “You’re not gonna, like, chop me up and throw me in a ditch, are you?”

He chuckles at that, a nice gravely sound. “If I was, don’t think I’d tell ya, sugar. But no, I ain’t in the business of chopping people up.”

You look at him for a bit longer before sighing. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

He turns, heading back to his truck, his broad back facing you and making it a hell of a lot harder to concentrate

“Name’s Joel, by the way,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say, stepping up into the truck’s cab, the cool air from his AC hitting you like a blessing. Maybe your luck hasn’t run out just yet.

You sink back into the seat as he climbs up on his side of the cab, letting the icy air wash over you. There’s something else prickling at your senses though—something that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s him.

Joel’s glances are obvious, a little too long, lingering like he’s sizing you up. Normally, it’d make you roll your eyes, maybe even tell him off. Old guy like him eyeing you up is nothing you’re unfamiliar with. But today? With the way your body feels sticky and tired, and the way the breakup has left you all out of sorts… you’re almost enjoying it.

You’ve been craving attention and the shitty one night stands with guys from dating apps have done nothing to satiate that need. It’s been months since anyone has touched you and that rational part of your brain that would be yelling at you to be aware of the sleazy old trucker who just picked you off of the side of the road is sounding real quiet right now.

“So…” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he shifts in his seat, resting one hand lazily on the wheel. “Where you headed?”

You hesitate, eyes on the road ahead. “Just… trying to get home.”

He hums, slow and deliberate. “Home, huh? Got anyone waitin’ on you there? Boyfriend?”

The word slices through you, sharper than you expected. You tighten your jaw, glancing out the window. “No. Not anymore.”

Joel makes a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “Well, ain’t that a shame. Pretty thing like you, all alone.”

You should hate the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker toward you like he’s just waiting for an opening. But instead, there’s a strange warmth pooling in your stomach, your pulse picking up in a way you’re not proud of. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs like it’ll somehow tamp down the growing tension in your body. He doesn’t miss it, his smirk growing a little wider.

“That line work on most girls?” you quip, trying to keep things light.

Joel chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Depends on the girl. But you look a little… flustered.”

Your cheeks heat up, and it’s not just the sun this time. “I’m not flustered.”

“Sure about that, darlin’?”

You glare at the open road, biting your lip as you try to ignore the way his words are messing with your head���and your body. It’s been way too long since anyone’s looked at you like this. Really looked at you.

The silence stretches out as the truck rumbles along the deserted road. You try to focus on anything but the tension in the air and find it’s impossible. His presence feels inescapable, it fills the cab wrapping around you, pressing down on every nerve.

“You never told me,” Joel says after a while, breaking the quiet. “Where’s home?”

“Texas,” you say quietly, your voice a little steadier now. “But I’m not in any rush to get back.”

“Family trouble?” he asks, his eyes flicking toward you again.

“Something like that,” you mutter. “It’s complicated.”

He hums in response. “Don’t I know it.”

You shift in your seat, crossing your legs, catching Joel watching you out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers a little too long on your bare thighs, and there’s a flicker of something dark passing over his face, but he says nothing.

You want to ignore it—God, you should ignore it—especially since you’re stuck with him for a while longer. But the rising heat in your body and the quickening pulse beneath your skin make it hard to think straight, harder still to make good decisions.

So you bite.

“You gonna keep staring, or is this part of your charm routine?” You cock a brow, trying to ignore the way warmth crawls up your neck.

A slow smirk curls at his lips, but he doesn’t look away. If anything, he leans in closer, his hand resting just near your leg, making the air between you buzz. “You think I’m layin’ it on too thick?”

“Little bit,” you quip back, though your voice betrays you with how soft it comes out. You bite your lip, trying to stay sharp, but his eyes flick down to the movement, and the pulsing need low in your stomach tightens. “It’s not working, though.”

His smirk widens, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “Funny. Seems to me it’s workin’ just fine.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way your heart races when he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your leg. The touch is light, almost casual, but it’s enough to send a shiver racing up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

“You can roll your eyes all you want, doll. It don’t change the fact I can see what you need, clear as day,” he purrs, his voice dropping lower.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you snap back, though your words lack the heat you want them to have.

“Little bit of attention.”

He reads you too well. It drives you insane. “I don’t need anything from you. Just get me where I need to go.”

A quiet chuckle rumbles from his chest. “That so? ’Cause the way you’ve been shiftin’ in that seat says otherwise.”

You bristle at his words, but the truth sticks like a thorn. There’s a reason you haven’t told him to stop, a reason you haven’t shut this down. You’re tired, frustrated, and the way his eyes keep grazing over you… you can’t stop wondering how easy it’d be to let him pull you under, to let him take all your worries away.

“You’re losing it, old man,” you shoot back, even though you know it’s a losing game. He sees right through you, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna make it easy.

“Am I?” he purrs, his hand sliding up to rest fully on your thigh. “So, you don’t want me touching you like this, darlin’?”

The way he says it—slow, deliberate, laced with that sweet, thick accent—it’s all innocence, even though everything about it screams otherwise. You know you’ll be hearing that “darlin’” in your head later, when you’re playing with yourself.

You smirk, giving him a little more rope. “I didn’t say that.”

He hums, eyes flicking between the road and your legs. “And I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t say a word if I moved my hand higher, would you?”

Your legs part just slightly, almost like an instinct. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But not to Joel.

“Look at you,” he drawls, a shit-eating smirk spreading across his lips. “Already makin’ it easier for me.”

You’re about to fire back, ready to keep this banter rolling, when his fingers slide higher. A soft sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“You ready to stop actin’ up, or we still playin’ cat and mouse, pretty girl?” His eyes lock on yours, dark and unwavering.

Your pulse quickens at the challenge in his voice, your breath catching in your throat. His fingers are still on your thigh, warm and rough, and it’s messing with your head. You know you should stop this now, make him pull his hand back, but you’re not sure if that’s what you want.

“I’m not acting up,” you murmur, trying to hold on to some sense of control, even though his touch is making that damn near impossible.

His grin widens, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “Mhm, sure you ain’t.”

You glare at him, but it’s weak. Pathetic, really, and the worst part is he knows it. He knows how to get under your skin even though he has known you for half an hour, knows exactly what buttons to push to unravel you just enough to keep you hanging on.

“I mean it,” you snap, though your voice wavers. His hand shifts slightly on your thigh, fingers curling just enough to make your stomach twist into knots.

“I wanna believe you,” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that vibrates through you, all the way down to where you’re aching for him to touch you. He leans in a little more, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell that familiar scent of worn leather and something dark and intoxicating. “But you keep lettin’ me touch you. Kinda sends a different message, don’t you think?”

Your heart’s pounding in your chest, the steady rhythm of it loud in your ears. You don’t know how to answer, don’t know if you want to answer. Every rational thought in your head is telling you to stop, but your body isn’t listening.

Instead, you shift slightly, your leg pressing into his hand, just enough to encourage him to keep going. His eyes darken, and a slow, dangerous smile tugs at his lips.

“Thought so,” he mutters, and then his fingers start to move again, sliding higher, testing the boundaries you haven’t set.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sigh that’s clawing its way up your throat, but it slips through anyway. He hears it, of course he does, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes makes your face flush with heat.

“You wanna tell me to stop, now’s your chance,” he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying an edge of challenge, like he knows damn well you’re not going to.

His gaze shifts between the road and you and it almost seems like every time those eyes are back on you they become darker.

You glance at him, your heart in your throat, and there’s that flicker of hesitation—you should say something, should stop this before it goes any further—but the way his fingers are brushing higher, dangerously close to the ache between your legs, makes it impossible to think straight.

So you just meet his gaze, and you don’t say a word.

His smirk grows, and his hand drifts even higher. “Good girl.” This time he fully gropes your thigh, groaning like he’s been waiting to unleash this. “You wanna take these off for me, sweetheart? Let me give you as much attention as you want.”

He must have some psychic hold on you because you follow his instructions with no hesitation this time. Your fingers eagerly unbotton your shorts and pull the zipper down, lifting your hips to shimmy them down.

He looks at you for a lot longe than he should taking into account he’s currently driving a beast of a vehicle. “Lord above… you’re a sight and a half, darlin’”

He goes back to massaging your thigh, making circles with his thick fingers, going each time higher. Once he reaches your panties he stops and just rests his hand there, right at the edge of where you want him most. His fingers teasingly brush the fabric, enough to make you gasp, but he doesn’t go any further.

“You’re gonna have to ask for it,” he rasps, his voice thick with something darker now. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

His words are like a key turning in a lock, and your resistance crumbles. You can’t deny it anymore, not when his hand is right there, so close to what you need, your entire body burning up under his touch.

“Joel…” you whisper, your voice almost pleading now, barely more than a breath.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand pressing a little more firmly, his fingers tracing along the outline of your heat through the fabric. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

Your breath stutters, and your hips shift on their own, pressing into his hand. You’re barely hanging on, the tension between you two crackling like a live wire, but he’s still holding back, waiting for you to give in completely.

“Please…” you finally manage, the word spilling out before you can stop it. It’s humiliating and liberating all at once.

“Please what?”

You let out the shadow of a moan. “Please touch me.”

Joel’s hand slips under the fabric, his fingers finally finding your core, and the groan that escapes him sends a shockwave of heat straight to your core. “Good girl,” he breathes, his voice like gravel as his fingers start to move in slow, torturous circles.

Your head falls back against the seat, a whimper escaping your lips as he finally gives you what you’ve been craving. “Jesus, Joel…”

“Feels good, huh?” he rasps, his eyes flicking from the road to you, watching the way your body reacts to every touch, every motion of his hand. “Told you I know exactly what you need, baby.”

You’re melting under his touch, your body humming with the pressure of his fingers moving against you, his voice guiding you deeper into the haze of pleasure. You’re not even sure what’s more intoxicating—the way he’s touching you or the way he’s talking to you, that low, commanding tone unraveling you completely.

“That’s it, sweetness, grind on my fingers, make that little pussy feel good” Joel growls, having a harder time keeping his eyes on the road now.

“Fuck… that feels you good da-“ you stop yourself before you’re able to finish the word. Your ex didn’t like you calling him that, so you usually kept that particular kink under wraps, but something about Joel is making it surface back up.

He looks up at you, pupils blown out. “Say it… say wha you wanna say baby.”

You lose all restraint and moan loudly. “It feels so good, daddy.”

“That’s right, babygirl.” He moans “Daddy’s fingers make your pretty cunt fucking drip don’t they?”

His words send a wave of pleasure through your body, a mixture of shame and intense arousal surging in your chest. You’re too far gone to stop now, letting the haze of lust pull you under completely.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a confession. “So fucking wet.”

Joel’s fingers move faster, rough and skilled, coaxing you into a rhythm that has you arching your back against the seat. His other hand grips the wheel tight, knuckles white, and you can tell he’s barely hanging onto his self-control, but that only makes it hotter.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “Been wantin’ to ruin you since the minute you sat your pretty ass in this truck.”

The vulgarity, the way he talks to you—it should feel wrong, but instead, it’s like gasoline thrown on the fire already burning inside you. You grind down harder on his fingers, chasing the high he’s offering, the tension building fast in your core.

You glance over at him, his jaw tight, eyes darting between the road and you, and there’s something so filthy about the way he’s trying to keep it together while driving, the way his control is slipping. You want to push him, make him lose it completely.

“You’re losing it too,” you pant, breathless, pushing your hips into his hand. “Can’t even keep your eyes on the road, can you?”

His gaze snaps to yours, dark and predatory. “Careful. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll pull this truck over.”

The threat in his voice makes you shiver, heat pooling low in your belly. You’re right on the edge, your body strung tight as a bow, every nerve lit up under his touch.

“Do it,” you challenge, voice breathless and wrecked.

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his hand gripping your thigh so hard it almost hurts. Without another word, he swerves the truck off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulls into a secluded spot off the highway.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline mixing with the arousal as he throws the truck into park and turns to face you fully. The look in his eyes is feral, like he’s done holding back, and you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“Such a little attention whore, baby,” he growls, unbuckling his seatbelt with one hand, the other still teasing you between your legs. “I’m all yours now.”

In one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips, the weight of his hard length pressing against you through his jeans. He is big, a lot bigger than you expected and it makes your mouth water,almost like your body is showing you how badly you need him in a million and one ways.

His hands grip your hips possessively, eyes locking with yours as if daring you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate. You grind down on him, both of you letting out low moans at the contact. The friction sends sparks flying up your spine, and you can already tell this is about to be the kind of reckless, dirty, no-going-back encounter you’ve both been craving.

Joel’s hands slide up your back, fisting in your hair as he pulls you down to feast on your neck. His lips trail down, biting at the sensitive skin there, and it’s too much, too intense. You feel like you’re going to combust right here in his arms.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he mutters against your skin, one hand slipping between you to push your panties aside, his fingers slipping through your slick heat again. “Filthy little slut, letting a stranger put his fingers inside you. Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name, pretty girl.”

Your hips buck against him, the promise of release so close you can taste it. “Fuck, Joel, please…”

“Try again. You know better.” his tone is firm and commanding, all the previous playfulness gone.

“Please daddy, let me come”

“That’s it,” he groans, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure, pushing you right to the edge. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me feel this tight little whole clench on my fingers.”

The way he says it with such authority, has you unraveling in his lap, your entire body trembling as you come hard against his hand. Your vision goes white, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Joel watches you, his eyes hooded and hungry, soaking in every second of your release. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers until you’re shaking from the aftershocks, your body limp and boneless against him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied as he finally pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you. “Tastes even better than I imagined.”

You’re still catching your breath, head buzzing from the intensity, but the way his hardness presses against you makes it clear you’re far from done. It’s not like those other times when finishing a guy felt like an obligation, when the effort barely felt worth it because they didn’t take the time to get you there first. But Joel? Joel made you come so hard you can’t help but want to return the favor. It’s not a chore—it’s something you crave.

“My turn,” you murmur, fingers already working at the button of his jeans.

His grip tightens on your hips, eyes darkening as he watches your hands move, but there’s a flicker of restraint. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. Can’t have this beast of a truck just parked in the middle of the road.”

You shift back onto your own seat, lifting your leg off his lap to give yourself the space you need. The desire to make him feel just as wrecked as you burns in your chest, so you lean down, your gaze steady on his as your fingers trail lower.

“You can drive,” you say, voice low, teasing. “I’m not stopping you.”

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his jaw ticking like he’s fighting with himself. For a second, you think he’s going to tell you to stop, but then he huffs out a breath, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “You’re trouble.”

You smile up at him as you feel him start the engine again, your hand slipping lower, teasing him through his jeans.

Joel’s breath hitches as your fingers brush against him, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road, but you can tell he’s losing the battle.

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he tries to keep his cool, but you can see right through it. The way his body is responding to your touch, the way he’s barely holding it together, it only spurs you on.

You undo his jeans and pull the zipper down, feeling the heat radiating off him. His breath stutters, and his hand slips to grip the side of the seat, trying to ground himself as you free him from the confines of his jeans.

You wrap your hand around him, feeling how hard he is, how thick, and the groan that escapes his lips sends a thrill through you. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes flicking between the road and you, his control slipping more by the second.

You lower your head, your lips grazing his tip, and Joel’s entire body tenses. His hips buck up, instinctively searching for more, and you can’t help but smirk as you take him deeper into your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, his hand instinctively flying to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

But even as he says it, there’s no hint of him wanting you to stop. He keeps urging you on in slow, measured strokes. The tension in him is palpable, and you can feel the way his control is fraying with every flick of your tongue, every inch you take him deeper.

His breathing grows ragged, and he glances down at you, eyes dark with heat and disbelief. “You’re so pretty with a fat cock stuffed in your mouth baby, look at you ”

You hum around him, the vibration making his hips jerk again, and the low groan that rips from his throat sends a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through you. He’s unraveling, right in front of you, and you’re loving every second of it.

You pick up the pace, your hand working him in tandem with your mouth, and Joel’s growl turns guttural, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Right there, darlin’ girl, don’t stop…” he hisses, head tipping back slightly as his hips move in time with your rhythm, chasing the release that’s so damn close.

His eyes flick between the road and you, pupils blown, struggling to stay on course even as his focus is being torn apart by you.

“Fuck, baby… I’m not gonna last if you keep—” He cuts himself off with a harsh groan, his hips bucking again, muscles taut and trembling as he loses the last shred of his composure. He’s completely at your mercy now, and it’s making him wild, his control slipping fast.

You don’t let up, your hand dropping lower to play with his balls, and he’s right on the edge, teetering dangerously close. His breath comes in ragged bursts, and his body tightens under you, his hips jerking harder, more desperate now.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

Instead of answering you take him deeper down your throat, your nose burrowing in the dark curls at the base of his cock, his smell so musky and intoxicating it makes you dizzy.

“Shit, shit—” Joel’s voice is a strangled growl, and then you feel him pulse in your mouth, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finally comes undone. He’s barely holding onto the wheel, the truck swerving just enough to make your heart race, but it’s clear he’s past caring. He spills hot and hard into your mouth, the sound of his release drowned out by the pounding of your own pulse in your ears.

You keep going, milking him for every last bit, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breathing ragged and uneven. When you finally pull away, he’s still gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough and wrecked. His eyes flick down to you, wild and wide, before darting back to the road. He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Best hitchhiker I’ve ever picked up, that’s for damn sure.”

As if on cue, the truck finally pulls into the shop, the hum of the engine fading, the weight of what just happened still hung thick between you two. Joel cuts the ignition, his hand lingering on the key for a beat too long, like he wasn’t quite ready to step back into reality. He realizes his now soft cock is still out and starts to zip himself back up.

You try to gather yourself, smoothing your clothes and brushing a hand through your hair as if it’d erase everything that had gone down on that highway. You can tell it’s gonna stick with you for a good while longer though.

Joel clears his throat, glancing over at you with a look that was somehow both satisfied and conflicted. "Well, we’re here," he mutters, but his hand was already fishing in his back pocket for something. "Here." He hands you a crumpled business card, his name scrawled across it with a number underneath. "In case you run into any more car trouble or, y'know... anything else."

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows damn well this had nothing to do with the rugged old thing and everything to do with the heat still simmering between you. You take the card, trying to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

"Thanks," you reply, pocketing it casually, though the way your heart raced gave you away. "For… you know, all of it."

He just gives you that signature look of his—half-smirk, half-smolder—and with that, you slide out of the truck, legs still feeling like jelly as you walked away. You didn't even need to turn around to know his eyes were glued to your retreating figure.

[curiositydooropened]

Wildfire • Ember

When Hawkins opened up and slowly slipped into the Ether, you were there on the front lines. Now, nearly two years later, after the tragic loss of your best friend, you're left without a partner and a rage building inside you like a wildfire. When you're given the option to retire or partner with your rival, Steve Harrington, you struggle to put aside your differences for the sake of the world.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Chapter Wordcount: 11,315

Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, second chance romance, slooooowburn, unrequited love, so much pining, blood, gore, character death, best friend!disabled!Eddie Munson, character injuries, trauma, PTSD, hallucinations, drowning, concussion, hurt/comfort, fire

Fic Masterlist • Navigation • Masterlist

Chapter Two: Spark

---

THEN

March 1988

A strong forearm caught your waist, ripping you backward and back to reality. The ringing in your ears faded to the crackle of fire, the roar of an engine, the gut wrenching wails of heartache. You resisted the force at your ribs, rooted to your spot, slack jaw tightened, hands clenched into fists, but they were stronger. You were lifted off your feet, kicking, clawing at the air, desperate to reach the figure thirty feet in front of you. Your best friend lay there, pale skin to asphalt, shock of red hair caked in mud, a pattern of thick black veins across freckled features. Your nostrils filled with the acrid stench of charred flesh. Your mouth tasted of blood and ash and bile.

“She’s gone,” Harrington’s voice roared in your ear, chest pressed to your back as he wrestled you toward the Getaway. “We’ve gotta get out of here. We can’t risk infection. Let’s go!” He loosened his grip to hoist himself into the truck bed, extending a hand to help you up.

You had every reason to stay, every reason to hold her head in your lap and scream and sob and apologize for what happened to her, for what you did to her. 

Harrington yelled your name, drawing your attention back to him. His skin was stained black around the edges, coated in grime and oil slick with sweat. His jaw was clenched, hand still extended, and you noticed the flash of his eyes into the bed behind him.

Wheeler was there, and Byers, both staring at you wide-eyed, jaws clenched. Wheeler’s hair had never been bushier. The circles beneath Byers’s eyes never deeper. And in their arms, Robin buried her face and muffled her sobs in the crook of an elbow, blue eyes flooded, tear stains streaked through ash and char across freckled cheeks and down her chest. 

What had you done?

You swallowed.

Then, Robin reached a hand out, beckoning, commanding, begging for you to get in the truck. Her fingers trembled. 

Something deep, something hidden, subconscious, compelled you to grip Harrington’s forearm and allow him to hoist you into the truck bed, and with two slams of Byers’s fist to the roof, you were off, nearly teetering off the side as you found your seat on a wheel well. Fingers found your palm, wet, and you glanced up to gape at Robin, throat filling with too much emotion to make sound. But she held your gaze, those soulful blue eyes locked on yours so you couldn’t look away, couldn’t watch the figure of your best friend’s lifeless form fade into the horizon.

—

FIVE MONTHS LATER

August 1988

The smoke from Hopper’s cigarette wafted passed the bottle brush mustache and receding hairline until it hit the yellowed ceiling of his office and permeated the room in a thick fog. The smell, acrid and unfiltered, reminded you of your paternal grandmother’s kitchen, and it mixed with the spice of sweat from the boy perched beside you. 

Harrington sat too far forward, broad shoulders hunched, apparently fresh from the gym. You spotted the wet patch staining his t-shirt between his shoulder blades and under his arms. Beneath an elbow, his hairy thigh bounced at an unrelenting pace. You thought his sneakers might rub a hole through the linoleum flooring, clear to the Upside Down.

It took everything in your power not to slam a hand down to his knee to stop the anxious movements, your own hands clamming with sweat. You restrained, remaining poised, stoic, as you peered over Harrington’s shoulder while he rubbernecked the paperwork Hopper leafed through.

A photograph had been paper clipped to the inside cover of a forest green envelope. Two faces, pinched in stifled laughter, stared back at you, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. You recognized yourself and your best friend, full of innocence and zest and life. Hop’s meaty fingers slammed the folder shut. You swallowed.

“What’s going on, Hop?” Harrington finally vocalized, his voice a little strained. 

Hopper didn’t acknowledge him, merely stared right through the younger man to make eye contact with you, steely blue with a hint of mischief you’d maybe once appreciated. Now it made your blood run cold. “You passed your psych eval. Flying colors.”

You could feel your heart in your chest, taste the smoke on your tongue. 

Harrington’s movements stopped in your periphery.

Hopper leaned back in his seat, the metal groaning beneath his frame, and he scattered a few ashes into a full-to-the-brim ashtray. “And, as I’m sure you’ve heard, Buckley retired last week.” 

Your heartbeat halted. You wet dry lips, ventured a glance Harrington’s direction. 

He rolled his eyes, looked away, caught. A scoff spilled from his mouth.

You hadn’t known. You hadn’t spoken to Robin in months. How could you, after what you’d done? 

Hopper continued before you could respond. “So I’ve called you here with good news.” Again, mischief. The man seemed as jolly as ole Saint Nick, downright chipper. “You’re going back out there, kid.” 

You’d been asking for months, begging on bended knee, desperate for a taste of that sickly sweet air, for ash in your lungs and sweat on your brow. You’d worked your ass off for months, and yet the news, matched with the look on his face and Harrington’s presence bittered the taste of relief in your mouth. 

Again, the commander spoke before you could open your mouth to respond, his words strained through smoke blown upward. “The two of you need to log a hundred training hours starting tomorrow. After that you’ll be trialed, and you’ll undergo a double psych eval. You know the drill.” 

As his words set in, with the curl of his upper lip, your words finally burst forth, spilling from your before you could hold them back. “Are you fucking insane?” 

Slow on the uptake, Harrington’s arms swung out in front of you, and droplets of sweat from his temples splattered against your cheek with the velocity of his head shake. “No, no way. Absolutely not.” 

Hopper sighed, sitting upright again to punch out the butt of his cigarette. He shuffled the papers on his desk once more, tossing them onto a nearby filing cabinet with a hearty thwack. “Knock it off.” A meaty finger pointed directly into Harrington’s face, and the boy merely gaped at it, all sass, no action. “You two will do this because I know how bad you want back out there.”

“Besides,” Hopper made eye contact with you again, over Harrington’s shoulder, and the mischief had burned to pity, “no one else has gone through the shit that the two of you have been through.”

It hurt too much to look at him, eyes bleary and throat lumped, so instead you stared at the back of Harrington’s head, where his hair stuck up at odd angles, where it met the collar of his t-shirt. A part of you, small, wondered what exactly he’d been through, if he’d held Robin while she wept, if he cried too. A much bigger part of you tasted the anguish as it burned in your lungs. You blinked away the emotion and tried to swallow back the disdain. He’d never understand, never know what you’d been through. 

“The good news is, you’ve got a hundred hours to learn to like each other. I want you closer than the fucking Sinclairs. You hear me?” Hopper broke the tension with another groan of his chair while he reached to another stack of file folders in a little metal inbox. “Bad news is, we’ve got northbound spread and my two best Scorchers have been out for months.”

You glanced at the map behind Hopper’s head, black spreading north to the lakes, vines creeping ever closer to Chicago, Green Bay, too far. No one was safe. 

“We’ve all got work to do. So get the hell out of my office,” the receiver of his phone rang when he picked it up, pressing the plastic to his cheek while he began punching numbers. 

Harrington was up first, an exaggerated sigh falling from his lips while his slender frame made for the door. His jaw and fists tensed, brows furrowed, and he glanced at you before eliciting an eye roll that would make Wheeler envious. He turned the handle and the smoke escaped from the top of the door in a pool above the bounce of his hair. 

You matched his sigh, peeling yourself from the vinyl chair backing to exit the office. You caught a few of Hopper’s grumblings over the phone in snippets before he called your name. When you turned on your heel, he held the phone between large hands and kept a crease between his brow. 

“I know you can do this,” he nodded,  “Munson said - “ He was cut off by the voice on the phone and waved you off before he could finish his thought. 

He’d said enough to get your blood pumping. You grit your teeth and exited, ready to make a B-line from Hop’s office to the War Room to enact revenge on one Edward Munson.

Only, one meathead stood between you and the stairwell, hands poised on hips, lips upturned into the bitchiest snarl you’d seen since junior high. 

“What?” You barked, no longer having time for him when you had flatter asses to chew. You slipped past him, barely, into the well, the slap of your sneakers echoing up and down tens of floors.

“I work out in the afternoons,” Harrington responded, long legs keeping pace.

“Yeah, no shit,” you gestured to his get-up, sweat stain on his tee now dried to a normal shade of blue. 

“So, sparring mats at 2?” 

You halted your mission at the floor you needed and barred him from exiting before you. The heavy door swung closed against your hip, and you crossed your arms over your chest with a snort. “No, no way. I run in the mornings and then do weight training. We’ll spar at 5.” 

“Absolutely not,” Harrington offered a sour laugh. 

“Scorchers drop at 4.” You hoped he didn’t notice your confidence falter. It’d been so long, months, you didn’t know if they’d changed it without you, accommodated others. 

“Fine,” he seethed. “Can you swim?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Relevance? No water in the Upside Down.” 

“Seventy percent of the gates are in bodies of water. If we get stuck on the other side, our best way out is up.” 

You hated that he had a point, hated the ice that filled your stomach at the thought, hated the way your mind flashed back to that place, that time, wondering if there were any gates you missed. 

“So we should split our hours evenly between the gym, swimming, and scorch.”

Your mouth went dry, considering the heft of a fuel pack, the trigger beneath your forefinger, the acrid smell of burned flesh, the screams. 

You stumbled back against the door, but the steel didn’t sway under your weight. Harrington’s oversized hand was holding it closed, his face inches from yours, dark eyes observing your features with scrutiny. 

“How’d you pass your psych eval?” 

You blinked back at him, chill ever-present at the base of your neck. “Excuse me?” 

He stared down at you like he could see her too, like he felt her lingering thirty feet behind him, fire red hair and a crooked smile - uncanny. His nostrils flared like he smelled her too, hair on fire, skin bubbling. 

You felt frozen against the steel door, stuck under his gaze, avoiding eye contact with the nightmare over his shoulder, the expanse of grey and red just beyond. 

“Nevermind,” he sighed, releasing the door and giving you a few feet of space. 

You stumbled when the door swung wide, but caught your footing along with your breath to watch him run two hands over his face, scrubbing at tired eyes. 

“Mats at 5.” He clenched his fists and made his way up a few steps, presumably headed back to his dorm. 

“Fine,” you shot back, hating the rasp in your voice, the saliva filling your mouth. 

He halted his movements, wrapping his knuckles against a metal railing before turning back to face you. “Do me a favor? Tell Munson I’m busy tonight.”

You wanted to retort, say something childish about not being a messenger pigeon, but the words stopped at your tonsils when you saw Harrington glance once more down the corridor, down to where you’d seen her, Vicki, mouth agape, hand outstretched, before he clambered up the staircase, leaving you all alone.

—

Munson hadn’t been in the War Room, but you’d managed to distract yourself by listening to a strategy lecture being bounced off a bunch of trainees. You’d disguised yourself well-enough to be called upon to offer a few ideas, and were pleased when the instructor awarded you with praise. 

High from your distraction and the news that you’d be out there again, fighting, burning, doing what you were meant to do, you’d almost forgotten about Eddie entirely until you’d punched your meal card for dinner and found his in your cargo pocket. 

“Have you seen Munson?” You asked the girl manning the machine, and she glanced around the room with pursed lips. With a sigh, you punched his card and loaded both arms with tonight’s slop and two cold beer cans.

You took the climb to the dorms two-at-a-time and wrapped your knuckles against the cold steel of his door until you heard a muffled commotion on the other side. 

“Eddie, it’s me!” You called, shifting the weight on the orange dinner trays to be easier to hold in two hands. You heard the buzz and waited for the door to swing open before you allowed yourself to step inside, placing both trays on a rickety card table that had been set up just inside.

“Sweetheart, to what do I owe this honor?” Your friend’s walker squeaked against linoleum at his approach, and you looked up to see that Cheshire grin spread across pale features.

“Brought you dinner,” you gestured to the stew and steamed vegetables partitioned on a styrofoam plate. “We got mystery meat and I hope that’s corn, and your favorite: sawdust mashed potatoes.”

He laughed that familiar, boisterous laugh, and shook the hair from his eyes. “As delicious as that sounds… I’m going out with Steve.” 

The mention of his name sent reality spilling back into your mind. You bit back the initial sting of betrayal and moved to fill yourself a glass of water from Munson’s room sink. The countertop was piled with dirty mugs, cigarettes, nudie mags. You waited to chug an entire cup’s worth of water before you responded. “Harrington’s busy.” 

“How do you know?” He asked, voice thick with the cafeteria food you knew he couldn’t resist. 

“He told me.” You explained, crossing back to pull out his chair for him. 

Eddie didn’t move. He just stared at you, hands gripping the handles of his walker, brown gravy on the corner of his mouth. A mouthful went down with a gulp, and he blinked back at you.

“Had a meeting with Hopper today.” You elaborated, helping Munson from his walker to his chair, carrying his weight with ease. 

“If you poisoned me, they’ll know it’s you,” he pointed out, poking through the sludge with a spork. “You have a track record.” 

“Fuck off,” you growled, joining him at the table.

He held his hands up in surrender, a bit of corn careening your direction. “Okay, too soon. I’m sorry.” He snickered anyway. 

You poked at your own meal, annoyed that you couldn’t stay mad at him, despite his betrayal. He was all you had left, the only one that understood. 

“So Hopper demanded you two kiss and make up,” Eddie reached across the table to crack the tabs off each of your beer cans. “And then what happened? Don’t spare the gory details.” He clinked the two cans together, and slurped the bubbles loudly from the top of his own.

You picked yours up with a sigh, adjusting the tab to align with the printing on the aluminum. “Nothing yet. We’re sparring first thing tomorrow.” 

“Ooooh, can I watch?” He cackled.

“Absolutely not.” You took a sip, the bubbles tingling your nose with a sense of nostalgia for what once was. You remembered early mornings at the mats, dripping with sweat, pinned and pinning, Munson taking bets left and right. You’d pinned them all: Wheeler, Byers, Harrington, Buckley. You took another drink.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Eddie touched you, a hand to your forearm, calloused fingertips and sad brown eyes. God, you hated that look. 

“How long have you known about Robin?” Your voice came out a croak, sounds your mouth hadn’t made in months.

He turned back to his meal, shrugged broad shoulders. The downturn of his lips gave it away. He’d known for months. “I didn’t think she was serious.” 

The betrayal stung. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“It wasn’t my place.” He shot you a pointed look, sass that rivaled Harrington’s. “You should have heard it from her.” 

You weren’t here for a lecture. You snapped back, spooning yourself some potatoes. “But it was your place to tell Hopper to pair me with Harrington? When you know what I’ve been through with him?” 

Eddie slammed his can so hard against the table bubbles fizzed from the top. 

You startled, dropping your spork back to your plate. Gravy dribbled across your chest, up your forearm. 

“You’re the one who wanted to go back out there,” he pointed an accusatory finger your direction. “Your lucky I didn’t tell Hopper to bench your ass.” 

You scoffed, licking beefy juice from your fingertips before standing to retrieve a roll of paper towels. “Like that’d stop me.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie laughed wryly. “I know it wouldn’t, and since I can’t get my legs working enough to come after you, I had to find the next best person.” 

You looked up at him from the mess you were mopping and noticed the fondness in those big brown eyes, the crease carving itself beneath pepper speckled bangs. 

“I mean, think about it. Roles reversed, who would you partner me with?” 

Although you’d never admit it aloud, Harrington was the most capable fighter in your motley crew, second only to yourself. He was a tactical master, and his heart was unmatched. He worked with speed and precision, efficiency, and you’d never seen another person go that cold in the face of the evil you’d seen. 

“Besides, haven’t you two already fucked? Just stir up some of that old sexual tension and make peace with each other.”

You smacked him with your spork as hard as you could, just over his left eye, and he swatted your arm away with a voracious laugh. You fought back the warmth spreading up your throat and to your ears, drowning more memories in a gulp of beer before they could surface fully.

“Speaking of fucking,” Eddie changed the subject, eyebrows waggled beneath his curtain bangs. “I talked to Sandra today.” 

You smiled into your sweet corn, the gentle buzz of relief settling over your shoulders. “Don’t you talk to Sandra every day?” 

“Well, sure,” And Eddie Munson proceeded to tell you about the exciting escapades with him and one of America’s Finest. 

And although you chewed, and laughed, and swatted at his arm, you couldn’t help but feel the tug of nostalgia just behind your molars. The memories that fizzled their way to the surface, of girls touching and laughing and nose-to-nose, cheek-to-cheek. Of dares. Of too much beer and too little pizza. Of arm-wrestles turned to leg wrestles, turned to sparring matches on dorm room floors. Of the freckles that lined faces and moles that cast a constellation across cheekbones and collar bones. Of breathless laughs and wandering touches. Of heat like wildfire, that fanned your skin and spread. Spread like vines and decay and smoke and ash. 

—

Harrington beefed up, shoulders impossibly square, chest broad, centered on the balls of sneakered feet. And alongside the wall of muscles, he’d grown relentless. You swung again, and again, and again, huffs of disdain escaping your lips with each stuttered breath, and your fists were caught, forearms blocked, shoulders checked. He worked lithely, without effort, all defense, prepared, like he’d been studying, but not just the fight, studying you.

You’d sparred before, sure, dozens of times over the past two years, and you’d always managed to pin him. Your fights would end in cackles from onlookers and sweat wiped from his upper lip. You’d pull him upright with a grin on your face and pride fluttering beneath your ribcage. 

Now, all mercy had been removed, any friendliness left his dark eyes cold. His jaw flexed, arms crossed over his chest while he waited for you to take a drink of water, quenching the dryness at your throat. He even dared that signature Harrington eye roll, which had the water dribbling from the corners of your mouth and down your throat, a soothing damp.

“What?” You snapped, chest heaving, plastic water bottle crunched beneath your fingertips as you sprayed more into the back of your throat.

“I didn’t say anything,” he responded, arms still crossed. 

You swished before your swallow and set your bottle next to the oversized cushion of the grey vinyl mats. The floor had already been sneaker-marked and sweat stained. You bounced on the balls of your feet, trying to bring feeling back into the numbness of your wrists and knuckles. 

Harrington readied himself, squared his stance, but remained limp. Honestly, he looked a little bored.

You grit your teeth and rounded to the right. 

He mirrored you, arms up, patient. 

You took a deep breath through your nostrils and released with a right hook. 

He dodged, caught your wrist, shoved you to the other side of the mat. 

You stumbled, caught yourself, took another deep breath, steadied yourself. 

“Again,” he called you, gesturing for you to go again, to come at him, arm’s swinging wildly without making purchase for the thousandth time. 

You were exhausted. You’d been exhausted for months, but memories crept along dorm walls the night before, and that familiar face smiled back at you from the far corner, ever-present, watching, waiting. You hadn’t sparred since then, hadn’t struck another human, hadn’t found purchase. Not since then. 

You shook it off, rounded to the left. “What’s the matter, Harrington?” Your voice brought some life back into his eyes, interest piqued. Yes, this was better, this was safe. “Scared to hit a girl?” 

You swung left, and he dodged, but you felt the hairs on his cheek prickle your wrist. You swung right, but he’d predicted it, catching both wrists and pulling them up and over your head. 

His face was inches from yours, glistening with sweat and rough with stubble. The bags under his eyes were more prominent from this distance, and you wondered if he’d slept at all himself. “I want you on the offense before I even consider teaching you defensive moves.” He shoved you back again, readying his stance. “Again.” 

“Teaching me?” You balked, resting your hands on your hips to catch the breath that had slipped away. “I seem to recall pinning your ass on the regular.” 

He grimaced at that, upper lip upturned in disgust, and he shrugged, gesturing to the ground between you. “Feels like you’ve lost your touch.” 

You swung wide, angry, fist flying through the air toward his chest.

He caught your forearm. “Looks like I can still count on you to be hot headed.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, stepping back into a ready position. You hated that he was right, hated how he always managed to find his way under your skin. 

“Take a breath,” he took a step to your left. You countered. “Anticipate me anticipating you.” 

You kicked out, knowing he’d expect another swing, but he caught your calf at his waist and held it there, pushing you backwards until you’d nearly lost balance, hopping on one leg. 

“No,” he grit his teeth. “Come on. You’re being predictable.” 

“Let go of me,” you wrestled your ankle from his grasp, nearly falling on your ass in the process. 

“I know your moves,” he explained, voice unnervingly even. “You’re a one-trick pony.”

You released a grunt, threw elbows at his opposite side, and he managed to grab you around the ribcage, holding you tight to him, your back to his front, two feet off the ground as you struggled under a vice grip. You struggled, wind nearly knocked out of you.

“We aren’t moving on until you can take me down.”

“Fuck off,” you gasped.

He released you. 

You stumbled back to your water bottle, taking a few breaths until the blur left the peripheries of your vision. You gulped between gasps, trying to strategize, trying to ignore the heated emotion prickling at your throat, behind your eyes. You couldn’t look at him, feeling like a child scolded by a school teacher, and what gave him the right?

“Did she use it against you?” His voice came softer than before, just behind your left ear. You could barely hear it over the rushing of your pulse in your skull.

You swished, swallowed, took a moment for his words to sunk in before you turned to face him. “What?” 

“Your predictability. Did she use it against you?” Harrington stood with arms crossed over his chest again, the shield he bore.

Your mind flashed to that night, flames fanned your face, all encompassing heat, structure engulfed around you. You’d gone for a hit, frantic, not in your right mind, panic icing your veins, and she’d caught your fist, just as your new partner had. Vicki’s eyes were just as cold, just as dark, a black void where your friend used to be. 

You swallowed, blinked back tears, and tried to ignore the figure growing in the corner of your mind. Harrington came back into focus, arms folded, shoulders square, sweat staining the collar of his t-shirt a dark grey. 

With steady breaths, you crossed the mat to him until you were close enough to make out the pulse in his throat, a steady beat beneath a chiseled jaw. He stared down his nose at you, contempt across features you’d once swooned over.

You felt the emotion start to well, blinked back anything that threatened, avoided his frigid gaze for half a moment, and when you glanced back, you noticed the most minute indication that he’d softened. His shoulders relaxed, chin tilted downward to look at your properly, and you remembered that everyone has a weakness. 

You sucked in your cheeks and willed a single tear to fall, just one, a hot bead that mixed with sweat as it streaked down the plane of your nose and rested, salty on the bow of your upper lip. 

Harrington’s eyes were wide, brown, soft. His nostril flared, in pity or disgust, it didn’t matter which. You’d hooked him. 

You turned your back to him, allowed your shoulders to shake with your exhale.

A sound of indignation fell from his lips, a warm breath cast upon the small hairs on your neck that sent goosebumps down your spine, and then you felt it. The softest of touches to your wrist, fingertips to calm your pulse points.

You took the opportunity, grappled his forearm and sent him flying over your left shoulder until a large body hit the mat with a satisfying thud. While Harrington gasped to earn his breath back, you pinned his shoulder beneath the toe of your sneaker, holding him to the mat. You wiped the tear from your nose with the damp collar of your t-shirt and stared down at him.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” he spat, shoving your foot from his chest to sit upright.

With a sigh, you grabbed your water bottle and retreated, shoes scuffing the linoleum. “Same time, same place tomorrow, Harrington. Bring your A game. ‘We aren’t moving on until you can take me down.’” You mocked him as you sauntered off to the showers. 

You paused momentarily when passing the double doors that exited the gymnasium into a gravel parking lot. Rusted vehicles were cast in the tangerine light of golden hour. And just beyond, under the cover of dense woods, you swore you could make out Vicki’s proud smile, engulfed in flame.

—

“How are things with Mr. Harrington?” Linda asked as though she knew the answer, and Hell, she probably did.

You were sure the exhaustion dulled your features, if not the dark circles under your eyes then the bruises that skated your arms and legs. One shone in browns and yellows on your temple from where you’d taken an accidental elbow. You’d been lectured for that for not ‘watching your space’. That man was lucky you hadn’t throttled him right there on the mat, pulse echoing against your skull. 

“Fine,”  you lied through your teeth, something you’d grown accustomed to in this cramped office. 

Linda, the government appointed therapist, walked from houseplant to houseplant, watering until they’d overgrown the room like vines in an alternate dimension. Blinking fluorescents cast green across the walls, painting her pale skin, making you feel more sick than you felt when you entered on a weekly basis. It used to be three times a week, but you were let off on good behavior.

“How did you feel when you learned that Ms. Buckley retired?” 

Your stomach churned, sickly green, and you shifted in the uncomfortable metal chair. It creaked beneath you. “I’m happy for her,” you maintained your voice, swallowed back a waver. “She weighed her options and chose a path that feels right for her.” 

Linda hummed from overtop a spider plant, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

You settled in your seat. 

“Did it make you question whether or not you’d chosen the right path for yourself?”

The fluorescents buzzed, and you squeezed your eyes closed, pinching the junction of your nose. Your temple began to throb again, and the muscles of your shoulders tightened. You were so tired, run-through, up too early all to get your ass kicked and up all night, contemplating whether or not you made the right choice.

“No one would fault you for wanting a little peace of your own. It’s not cowardly to want space from the things haunting you.” 

The monotone of her voice was like nails down a chalkboard.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I won’t find peace as long as the Ether’s still spreading.” A mantra you’d repeated time and time again, face pressed into a pillowcase to avoid the screams of horror plaguing your mind, to shield your eyes from the dense, damp expanse of forest. 

“Yes, there’s no doubt you’re dedicated to your cause.” Her tone seemed clipped, almost as if she’d picked up some of Harrington’s sass in their sessions. She set her tiny watering can atop a large wooden desk and moved to sit in the rickety chair across from you. “I just think it’s healthy for you to consider a contingency plan. What would you do if it all ended tomorrow? You’re on the sparring mats and they announce it’s done, they’ve got him, the Gates are closed. Then what?” 

You stared back at her, green blurring your vision as you mulled over her question. You’d never actually considered it, never thought what you might do should the fighting cease, should the fuel in your tank run out and you’d have to put away your worries altogether.

“What do you think Vicki would want you to do?” 

That stung. Each time her name was said aloud felt like a slice, death by a thousand cuts. You closed your eyes again, tried to will away the nausea, the smell of charred flesh, the screams.

You took a deep, calming breath and imagined a simpler time, soft hands massaging the worry from your scalp, thighs around your shoulders as you pressed tired muscles into the cushions of a threadbare couch. Sweet laughter echoed around you, the wafted smell of popcorn, truths shared under the flashes of a television screen. 

Linda’s timer beeped, an alert that your hour was up. She let out a sigh as you bolted upright from your chair. “Think about it this week and get back to me.” 

“Unless it all ends tomorrow,” you promised, flashing a grin that you know exposed too much enthusiasm. 

She muttered something under her breath that sounded an awful lot like, “we can only hope.” Before she stood to usher you outside. “Have a good rest of your day.” She chimed, always the most chipper exchange of your interactions.

You saluted and B-lined for the stairwell, in desperate need of a meal and an ice pack for the knot between your shoulder blades. 

��

The dorm hallways were eery at night, the hustle and bustle of young adults silenced, lights out. Occasionally, a bluish glow would leak from beneath doors, but otherwise the halls were lit only by glowing red EXIT signs and the circle of your torch. You snuck past the common area on tiptoe, terrified of waking the occasional trainee who had fallen asleep during movie night, not interested in asking questions. You skirted around a corner instead, to the stairwell, and began your descent on the balls of your sneakered feet.

Your backpack slumped against a sore back with each step, full of supplies you weren’t even sure you’d needed, scrounged up from a supply closet Eddie snuck you in to loot. 

In your hurry downward, you took a wrong turn, exiting the stairwell too early, and stumbled upon too many offices with dust on desktops and upturned chairs. The stillness of this floor reminded you of there and then, everything twisted with vines, particles peppering the air. 

Nearly tripping yourself backwards, you kept one eye on your reflection in the glass, and made your way back to the stairwell to continue your run, a little more blind, a little more panicked. Two, three, four floors down you saw an indicator. The exit door was propped open on a brick. The window at a eye level exposed a long, pitch black hallway, and the very end sparkled in a pale blue glow. 

You swung the door open and ran, no longer minding the slap of your feet against the flooring, only wanting to be somewhere light, somewhere where you knew you wouldn’t be alone. You almost skid through double doors, humidity smacking you in the face, and you managed to stop inches from where the floor opened up, dark water rippled against aquamarine tiled walls. 

“You’re late,” a voice startled you, and you teetered further on the edge, turning to shine your flashlight directly into Harrington’s eyes. He grimaced, shadowing his face with his hand. His hair was already wet, throat beaded in water, droplets dampened and discoloring a red t-shirt. 

You clicked off the torch and let your arm fall to your side, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. The only illumination was from the depths of the pool, recessed lighting that glowed cyan. “It’s dark in here.” You voiced your grievance, shrugging your backpack off your shoulder and toeing out of your shoes. The tiles were frigid beneath the balls of your feet.

“It’s dark out there.” He explained and rounded the oversized pool to grab a handful of items from his own rucksack. “Are you ready or do you need to…?” He gestured to you, voice echoing off the rippled water, even soft.

You managed a few steadying breaths. You weren’t nervous, per se, but a certain anxiety fluttered beneath your ribcage. You hadn’t swam in years, not since summers spent at Hawkins Pool with Vicki. You thought she’d dragged you down there to gawk at Harrington in all his glory, red trunks and tank top and whistle and sun kissed skin. She admitted later it was Heather Holloway she’d always had her eye on. The memory of squirted sunscreen and the quench of lemonade on your tongue had your fists clenched. 

The splash of something heavy cutting the surface startled you back to reality, and your eyes scanned the wake to see what it was. Your heart raced in your chest. 

“We’re going to start with the shallow end,” Harrington explained, shifting your attention back to him. You watched as nimble fingers began undoing the buckle of his watch. He toed out of his sneakers. 

“I can swim,” you retorted, self-defense growing second-nature between the two of you.

He ignored you, tugging at the back of his collar to pull his t-shirt up and over his head. That soft patch of hair from his navel to the hem of his shorts stood on end beside the gnarled roots of scars that brought your own battle wounds to shame. 

He stepped to the edge of the pool, upcast in pearly blues, and dove in. The arch of his lithe frame was perfect in silhouette, minimizing the splash and the ripple as he went in fingertips first to break the surface. You watched the shape of him approach before his head broke through, hair in his eyes, mouth agape to refill his lungs. He scrubbed chlorine from his eyes and pushed wet hair back out of his eyes. 

“I dropped a brick at the shallow end, and you need to retrieve it,” he said, sidling up to the pool’s edge at your feet. “This isn’t about whether or not you can swim. You need to be able to get all the way to the Gate and all the way back up from it. This is about form and breath work.”

His voice was the softest you’d heard it, patient. It was the way he talked to the kids, without the snark and the sass of someone pretending to be irritated with them. It was unnerving.

“Can you dive?” He asked, combing his fingers through his hair to keep the front bits at bay, cowlick at the front fighting against him. 

“Yes,” you snapped, although no, you weren’t sure you ever really had. Maybe at swim lessons in the third grade, but how in the Hell were you supposed to remember the basics now? 

You took a step to the edge before remembering your clothes. You hadn’t brought extras, and you weren’t keen on sneaking back to your dorm sopping wet. With an sigh, you released the button from the fly of your pants, pausing the moment you realized Harrington was watching. “Do you mind?” 

“Sorry,” he mumbled and turned his back.

You hated the static that prickled the stubble on your legs as you pushed your shorts down broad hips and thighs. You hated that it clung to the water’s edge, buzzed in your ears, fanned your chest with warmth as you lifted your tank top from over your head. You hated the lump your felt in your throat, exposed in underpants and a sport’s bra, not having owned a bathing suit in four years. 

“Okay,” you managed, voice thick, ready for the cool plunge to your heated skin.

Harrington turned back to face you but kept his gaze at ground level, slapping a wide palm to the tiled edge. “Step all the way up here, toes over the edge. Remember you want your thighs to power you, but you need your fingertips to break the surface first. Arms over your ears. Don’t stop until you can touch the bottom.” He spouted instructions too fast, moving to the side to give you room to position yourself for your dive. “The brick’s on the far end. Once you’ve gotten it, kick until you’ve reached the surface. Your lungs won’t let you go anywhere but up.” 

You couldn’t really hear him anyway, not over the buzzing of pool filters and the rapid heat rate in your ear. He made some minor adjustments to your stance, but you were on autopilot. And when you thought you heard the word ‘go’, you dove in. 

You felt a little awkward, but determined, the third grader in you stiffening. The water hit warmer than you anticipated, the stale underground air keeping everything tepid. When you were submerged, you kicked, lungs straining in a held breath. The faint pool light shined behind your eyelids, too anxious to open your eyes to the blur and sting of chlorine. You just ventured for the bottom, the plaster and tile that you knew would come. 

Only it didn’t. You kept kicking, and it was as if the bottom had fallen out, as if the world was swallowed whole, and panic fluttered once more at your chest. You opened your eyes, searching for a bottom, but everything felt too far. Then, a black shape entered your periphery, long, hulking, slender like a vine. Releasing bubbles, a startled scream exiting your lips, you kicked for the top, the sides, seeing the sparkle of the surface and begging for relief for the ache in your chest. 

Oxygen filled you, damp and sputtering at the moment your fingertips reached the lip. Panic stricken, you clung to the wall, knees scraping against plaster as you gasped for deeper breaths.

“That was good,” Harrington called from somewhere behind you.

You peered into the dark mist against the sting of your eyelashes. You released a shaky exhale. “I didn’t get it.” 

“I know, but your survival instinct kicked in. That’s important.” 

You felt uneasy about his comforting words, tones you hadn’t heard spill from his lips in almost a year. You rubbed at bleary eyes. 

“Come to the center and tread,” he commanded, softness replaced with the sass you were used to on the mats. “No walls in a lake.”

You grit your teeth and pushed off from the wall. 

Harrington had you tread water until your muscles burned, until that familiar hatred for one another stung in your chest and bit in exchanged words, at least then you felt more comfortable. You managed to dive properly a handful of times, making it farther and farther across the pool which each go until you’d retrieved the brick without coming up for air. He took it from your proud hand and tossed it to the deep end. 

Your lungs burned and your thighs ached, and he timed your held breath from the side of the pool, feet dangled in the water, broad shoulders slumped. You felt the heat of competition, the dopamine of getting better and better each time. Your final try, brick dumped beside him to scrape against the cold flooring, you wiped water from your eyes and had to fight back the smirk of success you felt itching at the corners of your mouth. 

Harrington sighed and slid into the water beside you, bobbing with his head just above the surface. He was close, too close, and you could just make out the freckles across the bridge of his nose in the blue light, the scar etched into his lower lip.

“I’m going to pull you down.”

You blinked back at him, seriousness in his voice tickling your nerves. “What?”

“There are things in those Gates that will try to latch onto you, to pull you into them. I’m going to pull you down, and I need you to fight me off.”

You knew he spoke from experience, you’d heard stories of the things he’d done. The idea of a large, black vine sent a chill down your spine, any competitive adrenaline replaced with cold, exhaustion, fear. 

“Go tread water.” He nodded back to the center of the pool, the expanse at which you’d finally warmed up to, a challenge you’d taken so lightly turned stone cold.

You did as he asked, pushing off from the wall until you found yourself in the center once more, legs kicking and arms pushing at the water around you, keeping you afloat. Your muscles ached with fatigue. Your entire being did, eyelids weighed by the sticky atmosphere.

Harrington’s head dunked and a chill shot through you. 

You weren’t sure if it was fear, the underlying unease you’d felt around him for almost a year now, that rivalry that turned whispered truths into snapped remarks. Maybe it was this unknown, this fear that he knew who you were, knew what you’d done, and now he’d convinced you to relinquish control. You gulped, glanced around, continued to tread. You could make out the shadow of him, just below the surface, streamlined and agile. 

You thought of him enacting revenge, on pulling you down and holding you in his vice grip. Hell, you’d do it if you were him. You’d thought about it already, imagined the swift crush of lungs as you held yourself beneath the surface. 

A creak sounded in the far corner of the room, and your eyes snapped to the double doors. They swung slightly, fog from the pool seeping through the cracks where tile met linoleum floors. You swam forward to catch a better view. You thought you saw a light just down the hall, the flash of red and orange, the crackle of lightning. 

You wanted to call out, but panic had settled too deep into your bones, and all at once a thick hand had found the meat of your thigh and you were being dragged downward, down, down, down. You gasped a deep breath, but couldn’t take your eyes from the swinging double doors, from the face that stared back at you from behind a window, wide-eyed in terror, just before you were submerged entirely.

The vine had a vice grip around you, and when you kicked, your opposite ankle was also grappled. You squirmed and fought, not-enough air choking at your lungs. Your toes felt the breadth of something wide, a chest, and you tried to push off of it, but down, down, down you went. Your arms struggled toward the surface. Familiar flames fanned the shoreline in oranges and golds, the smell of acrid smoke filling your nostrils, burning your lungs, blearing your eyes. 

You fought and fought, but she was staring back at you, that sickening smile on her face, and you knew you’d fought long enough. It was time to let go. You had no other choice.

Your back hit something hard, a crack that jolted the water from your lungs. You sputtered, eyesight dark around the edges, coughing in an attempt to expel whatever remained. You rolled on your side, hair strewn in tendrils beneath your mouth, body numb, mind numb. You weren’t sure where you were, only that it was freezing, and your muscles all began to spasm in an attempt to warm up. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?” A familiar voice called out, garbled under the thunder of your pulse in your skull. 

You willed your eyes to open, to focus on the sparkling water beneath you, the cyan lights. Harrington’s face was inches from your own, eyes dark, a crease between thick brows. 

“Fuck!” He ran a hand down wet features, and you tried to regain any semblance of what had happened before he’d tossed you like a rag doll onto the side of the pool. He swam to the nearest ladder and pulled himself out. 

You rolled onto your back, stuttered breath gathering momentum again, and stared at the dark ceiling of the indoor pool. You were here, and you were training, and… You glanced sideways at the double doors. They were still, hall dark just beyond. You lifted a weak hand.

Harrington crouched at your side, pressing a wide palm to the curve of your throat, forefinger finding your pulse. He clicked the fingers of his other hand in front of your eyes, trying to get you to focus.

Annoyed, you swatted him away and tried to sit up. 

“Will you slow down? You hit your head.” He spat, pinning your shoulder gently to the tiled floor.

You did feel a pulse where his hand reached to cup your skull, and you reached back with shaky fingertips. The wetness was warmer there, knotted into the hair near the crown. You pulled your hand back to see your fingertips smudged with crimson. You winced. 

“Shit,” Harrington stood to procure something from across the room, his red t-shirt, and he shoved the material under your head, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. It just made the dull throb worse. “Can you talk?” 

His fingertips found your pulse again, large palm splayed out across your collarbone, honeyed eyes searching your own. His body was warm, ribcage pressed against your hip, and you wanted to curl into him, your teeth chattering.

“‘M cold,” you croaked, the sound producing another fit of coughs that burned like hellfire at your chest, rocketing you nearly into his nose.

He grabbed your wrist and placed your hand firmly to the t-shirt soaking your blood and stood to pull something from his bag on the floor.

Your coughs sent you sideways again, spewing more liquid onto the ground beside your head. The tiles had begun to swirl with blood.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His grip on your shoulder rolled you back to make eye contact. The room clouded around him, and you squinted, feeling your eyelids grow heavy. “Shit. Don’t fall asleep on me.”

Your body rattled. It took too long to process that he had wrapped you in a towel and was trying to warm your arms with the friction of his hands. Exhaustion crept into your bones, a slip of warm darkness that you could find in his embrace, safety.

“Whoa, stay awake. Come on, let’s get you up. We have to take you to the Med Bay.” 

Your head throbbed as he pulled you upright, and you winced, pressure loosening on your skull. You groaned and tried to think through the fog, although exhaustion fought to win. 

Strong hands wedged themselves beneath your armpits and hoisted you upright, and you struggled to get your legs to carry your weight beneath you, but they did. Your body obeyed as your head throbbed, and you felt a trickle of warmth cascade down your spine while Harrington scrambled to grab the rest of your belongings. 

You stared back at the double doors, wincing as your torch lit up, light reflecting off of their insulated windows. “There’s someone out there.” You croaked, swaying on weak knees.

“It’s just the flashlight,” your partner snapped from beside you, one arm gripping your bicep, the other placing the ice cold metal of your flashlight into your weak hands. “Hold this.” His other hand met the t-shirt at the back of your skull to keep pressure.

“No,” you swallowed, throat raw, coughs emitting with each attempt to speak. “I saw them. I panicked.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” he scoffed, leading you slowly out of the room and into the black hallway beyond. “Hopper’s going to fucking murder me.”

You shined your light toward the stairwell, crisp white against a grey background. You saw no movement, heard nothing but the soft patter of your feet against the floor. 

“Nope, elevator. I’m not carrying you up fifteen flights of stairs.” Harrington steered you the opposite direction, toward a massive elevator on the North side of the building. It was old. The pulley system too loud against the thundering in your skull once the doors pulled themselves open.

You allowed him to lead into the square box, eyes wincing against the overhead lighting. You let him hold you upright against the railing on the back wall, relaxed easily into his hold, one hand catching on his forearm. 

He leaned forward to press a button, and just as the door slid closed, you saw a face, glowing blue in the light from the pool, eyes dark and smile menacing.

—

For the first time in two years, you’d managed to fall asleep the moment your head hit the pillow, and what would have been the best night of sleep in your life involved a nurse coming in at every hour to wake you from your slumber. Your body ached, and your eyelids were heavy, and with every soft prod, you wished you had the strength to lift your fist and strike at the woman with brute force. 

You were released after twenty-four hours, lactic acid stiffening your joints and ten times crankier than before, and you limped from the med bay up the stairs to your dorm for some peace and quiet. 

Each dorm unit contained a bed, a closet, a sink and countertop, an aluminum table and chairs. Some people had couches, others managed lazy boys and a television set. Your new room had been kept at a minimum: bedding stark white, trash can piled in the corner, belongings shoved into a green duffle bag in the corner. The only bit of personality was tucked away beneath the covers of a photo album on top of your bedside table. You hadn’t opened it in months.

You shrugged out of your military issue clothes, peering at your reflection in the mirror above the sink. Your body, though stronger than you’d ever looked, was covered in bruises and scars. A long burn mark painted your left side, puckered skin. With a sigh, you pulled a tank top and sleep shorts from your duffle and stepped in, considering a shower when you’ve woken up.

You crawled from the foot of your bed to the pillow, sheets just as scratchy as those in the medical ward, but the mattress was far squishier. Your muscles begged for the rest, too stiff around the shoulders and thighs. You sighed and buried your face into the pillow, the throb in your skull only slightly subsided. 

Then, you heard a knock at the door.

The red numbers of your alarm clock indicated you’d slept for three hours. The ruckus in the hall indicated everyone had finished their breakfast. You groaned and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, grabbing your second pillow to shove over your head, blocking the sun pouring in from an overhead window and the squeak of sneakers outside.

Knuckles wrapped a little harder. Your name was called along another few words muffled under the fluff of your pillow. 

“Go away!” You called into the abyss, and something in the back of your mind reminded you of the gruff man with the oversized mustache. You groaned and rolled, painstakingly, out of bed. 

The knocking returned, and you limped as fast as you could, calling over their yells for you to hurry up. You grit your teeth past the pain in the back of your head and swung the door open to expose Eddie Munson, hair pulled back into a ponytail, grin etched across sunken features. “Morning, Sunshine!” 

You had half a mind to slam the door back in his face. 

However, he raised his hand, shaking some poppy seeds off an everything bagel, and your stomach growled in response. 

You snatched the bagel from his hand and stepped aside to let him stumble in, walker almost too wide for the doorways. 

“Rumor has it Harrington carried you into the Med Bay in your underpants,” he said loudly before you had a chance to shut the door.

You caught the snicker of trainees, and you shot them death glares before slamming the heavy panel into it’s place. 

“Glad to see you two made up.” He pulled a cup of cream cheese from his pocket, and it clattered on your table beside a plastic knife. You helped him sit, both of your legs shaky on the descent. The table teetered under his weight, but he managed to remain upright in his chair. “Did he have to pound a concussion into you though?” 

You rolled your eyes, tried not to imagine a world in which his teasing could be factual, and shoved your thumb into the seam of your bagel to open it. “As much as I hate to pop your little fantasy bubbles, Edward, that’s about the farthest from what actually happened.” You seated yourself across from him and popped the top of the cream cheese container to start your spread. 

“So tell me what actually happened.” Eddie said, voice eerily even, “Because overhearing a total stranger say something about your best friend being held over night in medical is not how I wanted yesterday to go.”

You looked up from your spread and into big, brown eyes. Eddie Munson was known for his jokes, his pleasant demeanor, his incredible ability to strategize. He wasn’t known for his temper, but you’d seen it a handful of times, patience tested, that burn behind his eyes. 

You shirked under his stare, sealed the lid back on an empty container, took too big of a bite. You wedged the creamy goodness into one cheek, licking the corner of your lip to respond, hoping to sound more nonchalant than you felt. “It really wasn’t a big deal. We were training in the pool.” 

“This place has a pool?” He leaned forward, brows creased, arms folded across a slender frame.

You shrugged, swallowed. “Yeah, lower levels. Anyway, we were underwater, and…” You thought for a moment about what happened, everything blurred under the waves, the pressure in your chest, Harrington’s large hands gripping your thigh, the face staring back at you from the doorway. 

“And what? You went bonk?” Eddie snapped.

You blinked back to him and shrugged. The taste of garlic had turned to ash in your mouth. You tossed the remnants onto the tabletop and wiped poppyseeds off on bare thighs. They rolled onto the chair, the ground around you.

“You didn’t do it on purpose, did you?” His voice was quiet now, and when you snapped to meet his gaze, he was staring at the scrapes in the linoleum tabletop, knife wounds that had peeled through styrofoam. “Because I get it, you know? I’ve been there, too. After all those people I hurt…” He trailed off.

You reached across to grip his knuckles in your hand, pulling him to look at you. “Eddie, that wasn’t you. That was him. We all know it.” 

“And what happened to Vicki wasn’t on you.” He responded, nostrils flared, strong hand gripping your own. 

You swallowed back the lump growing in your throat. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” you said, and you wondered if you’d meant hitting your head in the pool or getting lost in the woods, getting Vicki flayed, pulling the trigger, watching the flames dance, hearing the screams.

You thought of the face above the water, the glow beyond the doors, this fear building in your chest like an ember of something you couldn’t put your finger on, this dull pulse you felt when everything else went away. You looked at your friend, dark hair and dark eyes and made a choice. “Eddie,” your voice shook. “I can still see her.” 

He squeezed your hand, nodded. “That’s normal. It’s a trauma response, I think, like a phantom limb.” He patted his thigh, and you recalled the mechanics of a prosthetic ankle beneath the hem of his pant leg. “What did Linda tell you?” 

You picked up your bagel again and tore it into halves. “I haven’t told Linda.”

Eddie breathed your name like a warning. “What do you mean you haven’t told Linda?” 

You dropped your bagel again and buried your face in your hands. The back of your head had begun to throb, and your eyes ached and crusted with sleep. “Eddie, come on. I had to get back out there, and you know I wouldn’t have passed my psych eval if the shrink knew I was hallucinating on a regular basis.”

“Jesus fucking Christ…” 

“Eddie, you can’t tell anyone,” you reached out to grip his hand again. “Please, please. I’m sixty hours from reassignment. I just got a new partner.” 

“Does he know?” 

You scoffed, tried to mask your eye roll by throwing your entire head back into a stretch. The pounding on your head increased, and you had to cradle your head in your hands once more.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why have you now dragged me into this?” Eddie hissed, and when you peered through your fingers, you saw his stance mirrored yours, hands in his hair, annoyance stretched across thin features. 

And you debated keeping it from him, hiding that fear that had fanned the flames in the back of your mind for months now, but it was surfacing, each day coming closer and closer to having you by the throat. “Because I saw something else at the pool, someone else was there with us,” you let out a ragged breath. “And I don’t think it was…” Your throat caught on her name. “Her.” 

His expression dropped, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. He glanced around your dorm room, crossing his arms over his chest before he looked back at you. “What are you talking about?” His voice trembled.

You shrugged, shook hair from your eyes. “I don’t know, Ed. There was someone else down there. I saw the door swing open. I could see a face staring back at me from over the surface. There was someone in that room, and when I came to, they were gone.” 

“Did Steve see them?” Your friend frowned, leaned toward your once more.

As if on cue, a loud knock wrapped at your bedroom door. You both startled upright, your heart beat racing in your chest. “Who is it?” You called, hands gripped the tabletop to stop them from shaking. 

“Steve,” came the short response, muffled through the thick door. 

“Steve who?” Eddie joked, lifting himself from his chair with some difficulty, any worry or hurt erased from the expression on his face. You hurried to help him before using one hand to open the door. 

“Sorry, I can come back,” Harrington’s features were etched in that signature scowl, dressed in uniform, bright orange breakfast tray loaded under one arm. 

“No, no,” Eddie waved him off. “I was just leaving. You can have her.” He leaned to press his lips to the shell of your ear before whispering, “we’ll finish this later.” 

You squirmed under the heat of his breath, and Harrington stepped aside to let Eddie through and into the hallway. 

“Be gentle with her this time, will ya?” Eddie’s mouth split into a grin.

Your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull, and you flipped him the bird. “Fuck right off.” 

Once your best friend had cackled his way down the hall, sneakers and walker squeaking, and a familiar, anxious buzz had settled into your bones, you gestured for Harrington to enter your little apartment. You closed the door behind him and felt suddenly self conscious of the trash piling up and over the can, the dishes dirty in the sink, the cream cheese smeared across your tabletop. 

“You should be resting,” he chided, sliding the orange tray onto the table beside your breakfast.

“Eddie brought me food,” you explained, as though you needed an excuse.

“A bagel isn’t food. You need protein and electrolytes, vitamins.” 

You glanced at the plate he brought: bacon and eggs, roasted potatoes, a glass of milk, a small orange. “Thanks, Dad.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arm over your chest, suddenly aware of the breeze against your bare thighs, the pebbling of your nipples beneath a thin tank top. You swallowed.

“How’s your head?” He asked after a long moment’s pause, vowels stilted like he’d forgotten how to be nice to you. You suppose you both had. It’d been so long. 

You swallowed back an innuendo, shrugged, reached to itch at the bruised skin around the scab. “She said it just a minor concussion. Should be good to get back to work by Monday.” You felt yourself shift on uncomfortable feet, the air buzzing with that odd static you felt in the pool.

Harrington nodded, hands shoved into the pockets of his tactical pants, rocking on the balls of his feet. 

You felt sick, knowing it’d come to this, that you’d been brought to awkward conversations and niceties. You used to be close, dangerously close. You used to be able to reach out and touch him, to push that stray hair out of his eyes. You used to make jokes, to laugh. You released a scoff, shook the memories from your pounding head. “Look, we don’t have to do this.” 

He looked up at you then, jaw clenched, broad chest steadily rising and falling. 

“You don’t have to pretend to care about me. They partnered us up because we both want to get back out there. We have sixty hours of training left. The rest of the time doesn’t need to be spent together. You can be my drill sergeant and after training, we go our separate ways.” You confirmed, crossing to your duffle bag to retrieve a sweatshirt. You shoved it aggressively over your head and put your arms through, sick of feeling scrutinized under his gaze.

“Drill sergeant?” He seethed, rounding the table to meet you near the foot of your bed. 

“Oh come on, Harrington,” you rolled your eyes. “You’ve been chewing my ass like fucking beef jerky since we left Hopper’s office. You’re acting like you’re training me for the Olympics, and I’m letting you, by the way, because it’s easier to keep the peace and take your bullshit than argue with you.” 

“Oh, right,” he scoffed. “You’ve been ‘keeping the peace’. Please, explain to me the fight-back I get on everything I say. Enlighten me, princess.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you shoved at his chest.

He didn’t budge. “Push through me.” He instructed.

You grit your teeth and did as he asked. The heels of your hands made contact and had him stumbling back a good five feet.

He caught himself on your chair. It creaked under his weight. “Good.” 

“Shut up,” you stood at full height, clenched your fists at your sides, ready to swing.

“Did you ever consider that I’ve been bossing you around because I don’t know if I can trust - ” He swallowed, broad chest heavy, eyes scanning your features.

“What?” You narrowed your eyes, fear crawling up your esophagus, burning in your throat. 

“…you.” 

All of your fears confirmed, that you couldn’t be trusted, that it was all your fault Vicki got lost, all your fault she was flayed, all your fault you couldn’t handle her, couldn’t take her, all your fault she died. All your fault your friends abandoned you. All your fault you lost him, too.

Flames fanned your skin. Your eyes glazed over, your hands trembled. You tried to reason with him, with yourself. “I didn’t mean for… any of it. I didn’t ask for it to happen.” 

“But it did.” His tone was dark, low, unyielding. 

You glanced back at him in time to see his hand run through his hair. 

He released his shoulders in a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’re better on the field than off. I was really just coming to see when you’d be ready to get back on your feet.” He wrapped his knuckles against the tabletop.

You shivered under his frigid monotone. 

“We should start with Scorch on Monday. I think we’re supposed to get a heatwave, so let’s try for the evening again.” He was commanding, cold, walking to your bedroom door. 

“Okay,” you managed. Your neck ached from the whiplash of the encounter, of the last week of your life, the last year. 

“Get some rest.” He said before exited, a command. 

When the door clicked closed, you let out a yell of frustration, swatted at a nearby chair until it tipped to the ground, clanging loudly as the metal bounced.

---

Chapter Two: Spark

[A/N: I've honestly been working on this fic for so long. It's my baby. I've grown too attached. And I honestly cannot wait to share it with the world. Thanks so much for reading xo]

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[blueby6]

Two-wheeler spare parts and lubricants

Motolab is the exact solution for caring your two-wheeler vehicles. Motolab is a brand known for its multiple products that end up with effective results. As the best companion for two-wheeler spare parts and lubricants we offer the high quality products that are easy to use and provide the best result. Therefore use Motolab’s two-wheeler spares and lubricants for a safe and reliable ride. Our products particularly designed for enhancing the efficiency and durability of two-wheeler vehicles. Motolab is the best solution for purchasing two-wheeler spare parts and lubricants in Palakkad. Spares and lubricants are commonly available from any store. But it’s our responsibility to use quality products for caring and improving the efficiency of vehicles. Here are some factors that make Motolab, the provider of the best two-wheeler spare parts and lubricants in Palakkad. -High quality products -Long lasting results -Easy to use We have wide range of products like -Engine Oil -Multi-purpose grease

Rat repellent Spray -Chain Lube, etc. Hence use the products of Motolab and get ready for a safe and comfortable ride. Both spares and lubricants are crucial for maintaining and improving the lifespan of vehicles. That’s why Motolab is the trusted companion for two-wheeler spare parts and lubricants. For trade queries call: 907 20 200 11, 907 20 300 11

[sandhri123]

Suzuki: A Legacy of Innovation and Performance

Suzuki is a globally recognized name in the automotive industry, known for its innovative engineering, reliable performance, and stylish designs. Whether it’s their range of motorcycles, scooters, or automobiles, Suzuki has built a reputation for producing vehicles that combine cutting-edge technology with everyday practicality.

Suzuki’s Two-Wheeler Lineup

Suzuki’s two-wheeler segment includes some of the most popular models for riders around the world. From powerful street bikes like the Suzuki Gixxer to commuter favorites like the Suzuki Access scooter, the brand offers options for various riding preferences. Suzuki motorcycles are known for their agility, fuel efficiency, and robust performance, making them suitable for both urban commuting and long-distance rides.

Popular Suzuki Models and Their Features

Suzuki GixxerEngine: 155cc, air-cooled power: 13.6 bhp @ 8,000 rpmFeatures: Fuel injection, disc brakes, LED lighting, digital console. Best For: Urban riding with sporty appeal.

Suzuki Access 125Engine: 124cc, single-cylinder power: 8.7 bhp @ 7,000 rpmFeatures: Lightweight, CVT transmission, ample storage best. For: Daily commuting with excellent fuel efficiency.

Suzuki IntruderEngine: 155cc, single-cylinderPower: 13.6 bhpFeatures: Cruiser-style design, ABS, digital instrument panel. Best For: Comfortable long rides with a stylish cruiser look.

Suzuki Spare Parts at Sandhri Associates

To ensure the longevity and performance of your Suzuki vehicle, using high-quality spare parts is essential. At Sandhri Associates, we offer a comprehensive range of Suzuki spare parts to keep your bike in top condition. Whether you're performing routine maintenance or repairing a specific component, our selection of genuine and high-quality aftermarket parts has you covered.

Explore our vast inventory of Suzuki spare parts at Sandhri Associates to find everything from engine components, brake pads, and tires to filters, oils, and more. We also offer bulk order options for workshops and dealerships.

Choosing the right parts is crucial to maintaining your Suzuki’s performance, and Sandhri Associates ensures that you get only the best.

[alldatmatterzdotcom]

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[khivrajmotors]

Triumph Speed T4 A Closer Look at the Famous Two-Wheeler

The Triumph Speed T4 is a motorcycle which reflects the ethos of Triumph: performance, integrity, style and technology in perfect harmony. Triumph has proven itself to be among the best, and the Speed T4 is no exception among Triumph motorcycle users. This blog will look at its characteristics, its components, and why riders should go for it.

Design and Aesthetics

First of all, it is worth mentioning that the triumph speed t4 is a very attractive bike. It has an aura of an attack dog with its macho and sleek powerhouse look yet with a touch of the old school. The bike has a tank shroud and a tail section, the headlamp gives a confident look to hold the bike. One can see and feel that the design is well thought out from the manufacturing materials used, the workmanship up to the final polishing.

Performance and Specifications

This engine cover reveals that the Speed T4 contains a strong engine that provides impressive performance. Here are some key specifications:

Engine: The Speed T4 features a high-performance, liquid-cooled, inline-four engine, known for its smooth power delivery and exceptional torque.

Displacement: With a displacement of around 1,200cc, this bike offers plenty of power for both city rides and long distance touring.

Power Output: The engine generates approximately 140 horsepower, ensuring that riders have all the power they need to conquer any road.

Torque: The torque output is equally impressive, providing a responsive throttle that enhances the riding experience.

Transmission: The bike is equipped with a 6 speed transmission, allowing for seamless gear shifts and an engaging ride.

The triumph speed t4 is intended for those who appreciate high speed and availability of controlling bicycle, but do not want to sit uncomfortably while doing it. Its design for ergonomics are friendly for long-distance riding, the mechanisms of suspension ensure stability and control, on the highway or curved road.

Technology and Features

The Triumph Speed T4 is not just about power; it’s also equipped with cutting-edge technology. Some notable features include:

Ride-by-Wire Technology:  This system enhances throttle response and provides a more precise control, allowing for a smoother ride.

Multiple Riding Modes:  Riders can choose from different riding modes, including rain, road, and sport, adjusting the bikes performance to match their preferences and conditions.

ABS and Traction Control:   For safety, the Speed T4 comes with advanced ABS and traction control systems, providing confidence and stability in various riding conditions.

LCD Display: The bike features a modern LCD display that provides essential information such as speed, gear position, and fuel level, all at a glance.

Riding Experience:

In fact, the riding experience in Triumph Speed T4 is all that one would expect in a biking adventure. The frames of this bike are relatively light, and the engine size makes them very easy to manage, whether you are riding around the city or across state lines. This makes the riders satisfied with the comfort of the seat and balance of the bike, hence making them satisfied as they do long distance riding.

FAQs

1. What is the price of the Triumph Speed T4?Prices for the Triumph Speed T4 can vary based on location and dealership, but they typically start around 2,17,000

2. Is the Speed T4 suitable for beginners?While the Speed T4 offers excellent handling, it is better suited for intermediate to advanced riders due to its power and performance capabilities.

3. What kind of fuel does the Speed T4 use?The Speed T4 requires premium unleaded fuel for optimal performance.

4. How does the Speed T4 compare to other Triumph models?The Speed T4 is more performance oriented compared to models like the Triumph Bonneville, which focus more on classic styling and casual riding.

5. What are the maintenance requirements for the Speed T4?Regular maintenance includes oil changes, tire checks, and periodic servicing, similar to most sport-oriented motorcycles.

Conclusion

The Triumph Speed T4 is one of the motorcycles that perfectly combines aggression, speed, and impressive modernity. Whether you want a touring bike or a good beginner’s bike for performance bikes, Speed T4 delivers a thrilling ride with safety and enjoyment improving touch features. Despite its somewhat hefty layout, it has many impressive specifications and is admired by finding the small details that the owners of these motorcycles would add to them. If you’re looking for a bike that will be both hardworking and fashionable, then Triumph Speed T4 is a bike to check out.

For more information: See More About Triumph Speed on Road Price.

[omexacargo]

Comprehensive Vehicle Repair and Maintenance Services in Gurgaon: Your Trusted Partner for Peak Performance

Car And Bike Repair Service provides at Your Doorstep in Gurgoan owning a vehicle in a bustling city like Gurgaon means you need reliable repair and maintenance services to ensure your vehicle is always in top shape. Whether you drive a car or ride a bike, proper maintenance is key to avoiding unexpected breakdowns and costly repairs. Our vehicle repair services in Gurgaon are designed to offer everything you need under one roof, ensuring your vehicle stays in perfect condition while providing you peace of mind.

Here's a deep dive into the services we offer:

Four-Wheeler Excellence: Tailored Services for Cars

Your car is more than just a mode of transportation—it's an investment. To protect that investment, regular servicing is crucial.Our  four-wheeler services in Gurgaon cater to every need, from routine maintenance like oil changes, tire rotations, and brake inspections to more complex repairs such as transmission services and electrical diagnostics.Trusted Four Wheeler Services in Gurgaon | Reliable Transport Solutions - Mera Mechanics

Routine Maintenance: Regular check-ups help maintain the efficiency and performance of your car. Whether it’s engine tuning, fluid checks, or brake replacements, our expert technicians use advanced diagnostic tools to keep your vehicle running at its best.

Specialized Repairs: Sometimes, cars face more complex issues like engine failure, transmission problems, or electrical system malfunctions. Our team is equipped to handle these problems with precision and efficiency, ensuring your car is restored to peak condition.

Quick Turnaround: We understand the importance of time, so we strive to complete all services quickly without compromising on quality. Whether it’s a routine oil change or a major repair, we aim for the shortest downtime possible.

Two-Wheeler Precision: Quality Service for Bikes

Bikes offer convenience in city traffic, but they also require regular upkeep to ensure they run smoothly and safely. Our two-wheeler services in Gurgaon cover all aspects of bike maintenance, from tuning to tire replacements and engine repairs.Two Wheeler Mechanic Near Me | Doorstep Bike Service in Gurgaon

Expert Care: From commuter bikes to high-performance motorcycles, our two-wheeler services ensure that your vehicle stays in top condition. Our technicians are trained to handle a wide variety of models, offering everything from basic tune-ups to complex repairs.

Safety Inspections: We conduct thorough safety checks during each service, inspecting brakes, lights, tires, and engines to ensure your bike is roadworthy and safe.

Performance Upgrades: If you're looking to enhance your bike's performance, we also offer custom modifications and tuning services, helping you get the most out of your ride.

Unmatched Roadside Assistance: Always There When You Need It

One of the biggest inconveniences for any driver is a roadside breakdown. With our roadside assistance services in Gurgaon, help is always just a phone call away. Whether you’re dealing with a flat tire, battery failure, or any other issue, we provide prompt and professional assistance wherever you are.24/7 Roadside Assistance Near You – Fast, Reliable, Affordable Support | Mera Mechanics

Towing Services: In the event of a serious breakdown, we offer towing services to safely transport your vehicle to our service center for repairs.

On-the-Spot Repairs: Our skilled technicians can handle minor repairs like jump-starting a dead battery or fixing a flat tire on the spot, helping you get back on the road quickly.

24/7 Availability: Emergencies don’t follow business hours, which is why we offer 24/7 roadside assistance. No matter when or where you need help, we’re ready to assist.

Bike and Car Spa & Cleaning Services: Premium Detailing for a Polished Look

Your vehicle’s appearance matters just as much as its performance. With our bike and car spa & cleaning services in Gurgaon, you can give your vehicle the care it deserves. We use top-quality products and equipment to thoroughly clean, polish, and protect every inch of your vehicle.Top Car & Bike Cleaning Services Near You | Affordable & Eco-Friendly | mera mechanics

Exterior Wash and Wax: Our thorough cleaning process removes dirt, grime, and contaminants from your vehicle’s exterior, followed by a protective wax to give it a lasting shine.

Interior Detailing: We deep-clean the interior, including carpets, upholstery, and dashboard, ensuring your car feels as good on the inside as it looks on the outside.

Specialized Treatments: From ceramic coatings to paint protection films, we offer advanced treatments to keep your car’s paint looking new and protected from scratches and environmental damage.

Engine Repair Services: Keeping Your Vehicle’s Heart in Perfect Condition

The engine is the heart of any vehicle, and when it starts to show signs of wear or damage, your entire vehicle's performance is affected. Our engine repair services in Gurgaon are designed to diagnose and fix any engine-related issues quickly and efficiently.

Engine Diagnostics: Using advanced tools, we diagnose engine problems, whether it’s reduced power, stalling, or strange noises. Our diagnostics cover everything from sensors to fuel systems.

Comprehensive Repairs: Whether it’s a minor repair or a complete engine overhaul, our skilled mechanics work to restore your engine to full functionality. This includes valve repairs, gasket replacements, and timing belt adjustments.

Preventative Maintenance: Regular engine maintenance services, such as oil changes and filter replacements, help extend the lifespan of your engine and improve its performance.

Bike and Car Insurance Services: Complete Coverage for Your Vehicle

No matter how well you maintain your vehicle, accidents and unforeseen incidents can still happen. Protect your investment with our bike and car insurance services in Gurgaon. We offer a range of coverage options to ensure your vehicle is financially protected in case of accidents, theft, or damages. 

Tailored Insurance Plans: Whether you need comprehensive coverage or third-party liability insurance, we provide plans that suit your specific needs and budget.

Hassle-Free Claims: In the event of an accident, our team assists with the insurance claims process, ensuring a smooth and stress-free experience.

Additional Coverage Options: From roadside assistance coverage to engine protection and zero-depreciation policies, we offer a wide range of add-ons to enhance your insurance plan.

Why Choose Us?

 Expert Technicians: Our team of skilled technicians is trained to handle all types of vehicles, ensuring top-quality repairs and maintenance.

Customer-Centric Approach: We prioritize customer satisfaction, offering transparent pricing, quick turnaround times, and personalized service for each client.

Advanced Equipment: We use state-of-the-art diagnostic and repair tools to ensure your vehicle gets the best care possible.

Comprehensive Services: From routine maintenance to emergency roadside assistance, we offer a complete range of services to meet all your vehicle needs.

Conclusion: Keep Your Vehicle Running Smoothly with Our Trusted Services in Gurgaon

Your vehicle is an essential part of your daily life, and keeping it in optimal condition is crucial for safety, performance, and peace of mind. Whether you need regular maintenance, emergency assistance, or specialized repair services, we’re here to help. With our comprehensive vehicle repair services in Gurgaon, you can be confident that your car or bike is always in good hands. Reach out to us today to schedule a service or learn more about how we can help keep your vehicle running smoothly for years to come!

[shreeshivshaktiheromotors]

Explore Hero Bikes in Meerut with Shree Shiv Shakti Automotive

If you're looking for the perfect two-wheeler in Meerut, look no further than Shree Shiv Shakti Automotive, your trusted Hero motorcycle dealer. We proudly offer a wide range of Hero bikes at the most affordable prices, coupled with unbeatable finance options to make your dream bike a reality.

Why Choose Shree Shiv Shakti Automotive?

At Shree Shiv Shakti Automotive, we believe in delivering more than just bikes; we offer convenience, reliability, and excellent customer service. Our commitment is to make owning a Hero bike as seamless as possible with affordable pricing and comprehensive financing options to suit every budget. Let’s take a look at some of the key models we offer and their standout features.

Featured Hero Bikes:

Hero Splendor Plus

The Hero Splendor Plus is one of India's most loved motorcycles for a reason. Known for its fuel efficiency, robust build quality, and reliable performance, the Splendor Plus is a versatile bike suitable for daily commuting.

Engine: 97.2cc, 4-stroke, single-cylinder

Mileage: Around 70-80 km/l

Power: 8.02 PS @ 8000 rpm

Notable Features: i3S technology for fuel efficiency, durable and strong body, comfortable seating, and low maintenance cost.

Hero Xpulse 200

The Hero Xpulse 200 is perfect for adventure enthusiasts who want to explore off-road terrains without breaking the bank. It's a tough, rugged bike designed for both city roads and rough trails.

Engine: 199.6cc, oil-cooled, single-cylinder

Power: 18.08 PS @ 8500 rpm

Mileage: Around 40-45 km/l

Notable Features: LED headlamps, fully digital instrument console, and long-travel suspension.

Hero Xtreme 160R

For those who prefer a sporty ride, the Hero Xtreme 160R offers the perfect balance of style, speed, and efficiency. Its sleek design and powerful engine make it a top choice among younger riders.

Engine: 163cc, air-cooled, single-cylinder

Power: 15.2 PS @ 8500 rpm

Mileage: 45-50 km/l

Notable Features: LED lighting, aggressive streetfighter design, lightweight frame for better maneuverability.

Hero Destini 125 Xtec

For a smooth and easy riding experience, especially for city commuting, the Hero Destini 125 Xtec scooty is the ideal choice. It combines convenience with style, making it a favorite among young riders and women.

Engine: 125cc, air-cooled

Power: 8.1 PS @ 7000 rpm

Mileage: Around 55-60 km/l

Notable Features: Lightweight, IBS braking system, ample storage space, and a modern look.

Why Buy from Us?

At Shree Shiv Shakti Automotive, we don't just sell bikes; we offer an experience. We provide:

Affordable Prices: We understand the importance of budget, and we ensure that our bikes are priced competitively without compromising on quality.

Easy Financing: Our finance services are tailored to make owning a Hero bike hassle-free. We offer flexible EMI options, low down payments, and quick approvals, making sure you ride away with your dream bike in no time.

After-Sales Service: Our commitment doesn’t end with the sale. We offer full after-sales service to keep your bike running like new, including servicing, repairs, and genuine Hero parts.

Conclusion Owning a Hero bike in Meerut has never been easier, thanks to Shree Shiv Shakti Automotive. Whether you're looking for a reliable commuter bike like the Hero Splendor, a stylish and sporty Hero Xtreme, or an adventure-ready Hero Xpulse, we've got you covered. Visit us today to explore our full range of Hero motorcycles and take advantage of the best deals and finance options in town.

[detailingdevilsrohtak]

Comprehensive Car and Bike Wash Services in Rohtak by Detailing Devils Rohtak

Keeping your vehicle in pristine condition is not just about aesthetics; it also ensures longevity and better performance. Whether it's your beloved car or bike, regular washing is essential to maintain its charm and functionality. If you're looking for top-notch car and bike wash services in Rohtak, look no further than Detailing Devils Rohtak. Conveniently located at Friend's Colony, Delhi Rd, opposite Tilyar Lake, Rohtak, Haryana 124001, Detailing Devils Rohtak is your go-to destination for superior vehicle care.

Why Regular Car and Bike Wash is Essential

Regular washing of your vehicle not only preserves its shine but also protects it from contaminants like dirt, grime, bird droppings, and tree sap that can damage the paint and exterior surfaces. A well-maintained vehicle not only looks good but also fetches a better resale value. Detailing Devils Rohtak offers comprehensive washing services to keep your vehicle in top condition.

Comprehensive Car Wash Services

At Detailing Devils Rohtak, we understand that your car is more than just a mode of transportation—it's a significant investment. Our car wash services are designed to give your vehicle a thorough cleaning, both inside and out. We use high-quality, eco-friendly products that effectively remove dirt, dust, and grime without harming your car’s paintwork.

1. Exterior Car Wash

Our exterior car wash service includes a detailed cleaning of the car’s body, windows, wheels, and tires. We ensure that every inch of your car shines like new.

2. Interior Car Cleaning

The interior of your car is just as important as the exterior. Our interior car cleaning service includes vacuuming, dusting, and cleaning of seats, carpets, dashboards, and more.

3. Engine Bay Cleaning

A clean engine not only looks good but also runs better. Our engine bay cleaning service removes oil, dirt, and grease from your engine, ensuring it performs optimally.

Premium Bike Wash Services

Detailing Devils Rohtak also specializes in bike wash services that cater to the unique needs of two-wheelers. Our bike wash service ensures that every part of your bike, from the handlebars to the tires, is thoroughly cleaned and polished.

1. Exterior Bike Wash

We offer a comprehensive exterior wash that removes dirt and grime from your bike’s body, leaving it spotless.

2. Chain and Sprocket Cleaning

The chain and sprocket are crucial components of your bike that require regular maintenance. Our cleaning service ensures these parts are free from dirt and lubrication build-up, extending their lifespan.

3. Engine Cleaning

Our bike engine cleaning service removes accumulated dirt and grease, ensuring your bike runs smoothly and efficiently.

Why Choose Detailing Devils Rohtak?

Experienced Professionals: Our team consists of trained professionals who understand the intricacies of vehicle care.

Eco-Friendly Products: We use only eco-friendly products that are safe for your vehicle and the environment.

State-of-the-Art Equipment: Our facility is equipped with the latest tools and technology to provide the best wash services.

Convenient Location: Located at Friend's Colony, Delhi Rd, opposite Tilyar Lake, Rohtak, Haryana 124001, we are easily accessible for all your vehicle care needs.

Contact Us

To experience the best car and bike wash services in Rohtak, visit Detailing Devils Rohtak or contact us at +91 7404148764.

[twowheelerexplorer]

Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Right Battery for Your Bike

Choosing the right battery for your bike or two-wheeler is just as crucial as selecting the right engine oil. While engine oil keeps your bike’s heart—the engine—running smoothly, the right battery ensures the proper functioning of your bike’s brain—the electrical system.

If you enjoy long rides without the fear of breakdowns, it’s essential to choose your two-wheeler battery wisely. Did you know that 90% of bike breakdowns are caused by electrical failures? Issues like headlight fusion, malfunctioning indicators, or rapid battery drainage can all stem from poor battery choice. A failing battery might not have enough charge to power the ECU, and without a functioning ECU, your motorcycle won’t run.

In this article, we’ll dive into the different types of two-wheeler batteries and guide you in making the best choice for your bike.

Types of Two-Wheeler Batteries

1. Conventional Lead-Acid Batteries

Widely available and commonly used by daily commuters, these batteries use sulfuric acid mixed with water as an electrolyte and lead plates to store power. They require regular maintenance due to periodic corrosion to function efficiently.

Best for: Daily commuting, budget-conscious riders Advantages: Affordable, widely available Disadvantages: Requires regular maintenance, prone to corrosion

2. MF Lead Acid Battery

An upgrade from conventional lead-acid batteries, MF (Maintenance-Free) batteries are designed for hassle-free use, eliminating the need for regular upkeep.

Best for: Riders seeking low-maintenance options Advantages: No need for regular maintenance, longer lifespan than conventional batteries Disadvantages: Higher cost compared to conventional lead-acid batteries

3. Absorbent Glass Mat (AGM) Battery

AGM batteries are another type of maintenance-free, sealed lead-acid battery, typically used in high-performance motorcycles. They are more expensive but offer a longer lifespan and better performance.

Best for: High-performance motorcycles, long-distance riders Advantages: Maintenance-free, longer lifespan, better performance Disadvantages: Higher cost

4. Lithium-Ion Battery

Lithium-ion batteries, known for their energy storage efficiency, are slightly heavier than other battery types. They are increasingly popular due to their long lifespan and reliability.

Best for: Tech-savvy riders, those seeking the latest in battery technology Advantages: Long lifespan, high reliability, energy-efficient Disadvantages: Higher cost, slight increase in weight

How to Choose the Right Battery

Choosing the correct battery for your motorcycle starts with following your bike’s manual recommendations. However, understanding the different battery types and their suitability for your specific bike model is equally important. Whether you rely on the manual or seek advice from a battery expert, selecting the right brand is ultimately your decision.

Popular Battery Brands in India

Amaron

Amaron is one of India’s leading battery brands, renowned for its durability and high performance. Trusted by millions of riders, Amaron batteries are designed to deliver consistent power and long-lasting reliability, making them a top choice for two-wheeler enthusiasts across the country.

TATA Green Batteries

A subsidiary of the TATA Group, TATA Green Batteries is a symbol of quality and innovation. Known for their robust build and advanced technology, TATA Green Batteries offer excellent performance and are a preferred choice for those seeking reliable, eco-friendly power solutions for their two-wheelers.

Exide

Exide is one of the most recognized battery brands in India, with a strong presence in the automotive industry. Exide two-wheeler batteries are known for their exceptional reliability, extensive service network, and proven track record in providing consistent power under various conditions.

SF Sonic

A brand under the Exide umbrella, SF Sonic offers a range of high-quality batteries designed for two-wheelers. Known for their robust construction and dependable performance, SF Sonic batteries provide excellent value for money, ensuring that your bike runs smoothly without unexpected breakdowns.

Conclusion

Choosing the right battery for your two-wheeler is crucial for ensuring a smooth and trouble-free ride. By understanding the different types of batteries and their features, you can make an informed decision that enhances your bike’s performance and reliability. Whether you follow your bike’s manual or seek advice from experts, always choose a reputable brand that you can trust.

Explore more articles on TwoWheelerExplorer and subscribe for the latest updates!

[engineoilcompany]

Veedol has a variety of bike engine oils, especially for your two wheeler motorcycles. Browse here to find the perfect match.

[thewheelscare]

Comprehensive Guide to Bike Service in Gwalior: Ensuring Peak Performance for Your Motorcycle

Gwalior, a city known for its historical significance and vibrant culture, has seen a surge in the number of two-wheeler owners over the past decade. With the increasing number of motorcycles on the road, the demand for reliable and efficient bike service centers has also grown. For bike enthusiasts and daily commuters alike, maintaining a well-serviced motorcycle is essential to ensure safety, performance, and longevity. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore everything you need to know about Doorstep bike service in Gwalior—from understanding the importance of regular maintenance to identifying the best service centers in the city.

The Importance of Regular Bike Maintenance

Regular bike maintenance is not just about keeping your motorcycle looking good; it's about ensuring that it performs at its best and remains safe to ride. Here are some of the key reasons why regular bike servicing is crucial:

1. Enhances Performance

A well-maintained bike runs smoothly and efficiently. Regular servicing ensures that all components of the motorcycle, from the engine to the suspension, are in optimal condition, providing a better riding experience.

2. Increases Longevity

Just like any other machine, a motorcycle’s lifespan is directly linked to how well it is maintained. Regular servicing can prevent minor issues from becoming major problems, thus extending the life of your bike.

3. Ensures Safety

Safety is paramount when riding a motorcycle. Regular checks on brakes, tires, lights, and other critical components can prevent accidents and ensure that your bike is safe to ride in all conditions.

4. Improves Fuel Efficiency

A well-maintained engine consumes less fuel. Regular servicing, including oil changes and air filter replacements, can improve your bike's fuel efficiency, saving you money on fuel in the long run.

5. Maintains Resale Value

If you plan to sell your bike in the future, a well-maintained motorcycle will fetch a higher resale value. Keeping a record of regular servicing can be a great selling point.

Types of Bike Services

Understanding the different types of services available can help you decide what your bike needs. Here are the common types of bike services offered at service centers in Gwalior:

1. Basic Service

A basic service is a routine check-up that typically includes an oil change, air filter cleaning, brake check, chain lubrication, and a general inspection of the bike. This service is usually recommended every 3,000 to 5,000 kilometers.

2. Full Service

A full service is more comprehensive and includes everything in a basic service plus additional checks and replacements. This might include spark plug replacement, carburetor cleaning, coolant replacement, and a thorough inspection of the electrical system. Full service is usually recommended every 10,000 kilometers or once a year.

3. Major Service

A major service involves an in-depth inspection and servicing of the motorcycle. This includes everything in a full service plus engine tuning, suspension check and adjustment, and complete brake system servicing. Major services are typically performed every 20,000 kilometers or when major issues are detected.

4. Specialized Services

These include specific services such as tire replacement, battery replacement, body repair, and custom modifications. These services are typically provided as needed or based on the specific requirements of the bike and the rider.

How to Find the Best Bike Service Centers in Gwalior

Choosing the right service center for your motorcycle is crucial to ensuring that your bike receives the care it needs. Here’s a guide to finding the best bike service centers in Gwalior:

1. Look for Authorized Service Centers

Authorized service centers are certified by the motorcycle manufacturer and are equipped with genuine parts, specialized tools, and trained technicians. If you own a bike from a major brand like Bajaj, Hero, or Honda, it’s advisable to look for an authorized service center in Gwalior.

2. Check Customer Reviews

Online reviews can provide valuable insights into the quality of service offered by different centers. Look for reviews on platforms like Google, Justdial, and social media. Pay attention to customer feedback on service quality, pricing, and overall satisfaction.

3. Visit the Service Center

If possible, visit the service center before making a decision. This will give you an idea of their facilities, the professionalism of their staff, and the condition of their workshop. A clean, well-organized service center is a good indicator of quality service.

4. Ask About Technician Expertise

The skill and experience of the technicians are critical. Ask about the qualifications and training of the mechanics who will be working on your bike. Experienced technicians are more likely to diagnose and fix issues accurately.

5. Compare Prices

While cost should not be the only factor in your decision, it’s important to ensure that you’re getting good value for your money. Compare prices at different service centers to find a balance between cost and quality.

6. Look for Additional Services

Some service centers offer additional perks like free pick-up and drop-off, online booking, and service reminders. These extras can make the service process more convenient and stress-free.

Top Bike Service Centers in Gwalior

Based on the factors mentioned above, here are some of the top-rated bike service centers in Gwalior:

1. The Wheels Care

Located in the heart of Gwalior, The Wheels Care is a popular choice among bike owners. Known for their professionalism, skilled technicians, and use of genuine parts, they offer a wide range of services including routine maintenance, engine repairs, and custom modifications.

2. Hero MotoCorp Service Center

As an authorized service center for Hero bikes, this center is equipped with the latest tools and trained technicians. They offer comprehensive services including regular maintenance, major repairs, and spare parts replacement.

3. Honda Authorized Service Center

This service center specializes in servicing Honda motorcycles and is known for their expertise and customer service. They offer both basic and advanced services and have a reputation for quick turnaround times.

4. Bajaj Auto Service Center

If you own a Bajaj bike, this authorized service center is a reliable choice. They offer everything from routine check-ups to major repairs, and their technicians are trained to handle all Bajaj models.

5. TVS Service Center

This service center caters to TVS bike owners and is known for their quality service and customer-centric approach. They offer a range of services including engine tuning, suspension adjustment, and electrical system diagnostics.

Features of the Best Bike Service Centers

When choosing a bike service center, it’s important to look for specific features that indicate a high level of service. Here are some of the key features to consider:

1. Use of Genuine Parts

The best service centers use genuine parts for all repairs and replacements. Genuine parts are designed to work seamlessly with your bike, ensuring optimal performance and longevity.

2. Advanced Diagnostic Tools

Modern bikes are equipped with advanced technology, and diagnosing issues often requires specialized tools. The best service centers are equipped with the latest diagnostic tools that can accurately identify and address any issues with your bike.

3. Skilled Technicians

The expertise of the technicians is critical. The best service centers employ technicians who are trained and certified by the motorcycle manufacturer. These professionals have an in-depth understanding of the bike’s mechanics and can diagnose and fix issues with precision.

4. Comprehensive Services

A top-notch service center offers a wide range of services, from routine maintenance to major repairs and customizations. Whether you need an oil change, engine tuning, or a new set of tires, the best centers can handle it all.

5. Customer-Centric Approach

The best service centers prioritize customer satisfaction. They offer convenient services like online booking, pick-up and drop-off, and regular service reminders. Their staff is friendly and always ready to answer any questions you may have.

6. Transparent Pricing

Trustworthy service centers provide clear and transparent pricing. They offer detailed estimates before starting any work and ensure that there are no hidden charges. This transparency builds trust and ensures that you know exactly what you’re paying for.

7. Warranty on Services

Reputable service centers offer warranties on the parts they replace and the services they provide. This gives you peace of mind knowing that if anything goes wrong, you’re covered.

8. Clean and Well-Maintained Facility

The condition of the service center itself is a reflection of the quality of service you can expect. The best centers are clean, well-organized, and equipped with modern tools and equipment.

Understanding the Cost of Bike Service

The cost of servicing your bike can vary depending on several factors, including the type of service, the make and model of your bike, and the service center you choose. Here’s a breakdown of the common costs associated with bike servicing:

1. Basic Service

A basic service typically includes an oil change, air filter cleaning, chain lubrication, and a general inspection. The cost for a basic service can range from INR 500 to INR 1,500, depending on the service center and the specific requirements of your bike.

2. Full Service

A full service is more comprehensive and includes everything in a basic service plus additional checks and replacements. The cost for a full service can range from INR 2,000 to INR 5,000, depending on the complexity of the service and the parts that need to be replaced.

3. Major Service

A major service involves a thorough inspection and servicing of your motorcycle, including everything from the full service and more. This can include engine tuning, complete brake system servicing, suspension check and adjustment, and other detailed work. The cost of a major service can range from INR 5,000 to INR 10,000 or more, depending on the specific needs of your bike and the service center’s pricing structure.

4. Specialized Services

Specialized services like tire replacement, battery replacement, or body repair may incur additional costs. The price of these services can vary widely depending on the type of service required and the parts involved. For instance, replacing a set of tires could cost anywhere between INR 1,500 to INR 4,000 depending on the brand and quality, while a battery replacement might range from INR 1,200 to INR 3,500.

5. Custom Modifications

If you’re looking to customize your bike, the costs can vary significantly based on the type of modifications you want. Custom paint jobs, aftermarket exhaust systems, or performance upgrades can range from a few thousand rupees to several tens of thousands. Always consult with the service center for a detailed estimate before proceeding with any custom work.

6. Labor Charges

Labor charges are a significant part of the service cost. These can vary depending on the service center, the complexity of the work, and the expertise required. Authorized service centers may charge a premium for their labor, but this is often justified by the quality of service and the use of genuine parts.

Tips to Reduce Bike Service Costs

While it’s important not to compromise on the quality of service, there are ways to manage and reduce your bike service costs:

1. Regular Maintenance

Keeping up with regular maintenance can prevent minor issues from becoming major repairs, which can save you money in the long run. Regular oil changes, timely replacement of filters, and consistent chain lubrication can help avoid costly repairs.

2. Use Genuine Parts

While genuine parts may be more expensive initially, they tend to last longer and perform better than cheaper alternatives. Using genuine parts can also prevent future issues, thus saving you money on repairs down the line.

3. Bundle Services

If your bike requires multiple services, try to bundle them together. Some service centers offer discounts or package deals for combined services, which can reduce the overall cost.

4. Look for Promotions

Keep an eye out for promotions and discounts offered by service centers. Many centers offer seasonal discounts, loyalty programs, or special offers that can significantly reduce your service costs.

5. Compare Prices

Don’t hesitate to get quotes from multiple service centers. Comparing prices can help you find the best deal, but make sure to consider the reputation and quality of the service center as well.

6. DIY for Minor Maintenance

For those who are mechanically inclined, performing minor maintenance tasks like changing the oil, cleaning the air filter, or lubricating the chain yourself can save money. However, be cautious and only attempt tasks you are confident in to avoid causing damage to your bike.

Common Bike Issues and How to Address Them

Understanding common bike issues and how they are typically addressed can help you better manage your bike’s maintenance needs. Here are some common problems and the standard procedures to fix them:

1. Engine Overheating

Engine overheating can be caused by various factors, including low oil levels, a dirty air filter, or a malfunctioning cooling system. Regularly checking and maintaining oil levels, keeping the air filter clean, and ensuring the cooling system is functioning properly can prevent overheating. If the issue persists, a professional inspection might be necessary to identify and resolve the underlying problem.

2. Brake Issues

Brake problems can manifest as reduced braking efficiency, squeaking noises, or a spongy feel in the brake lever. These issues can be caused by worn brake pads, low brake fluid, or air in the brake lines. Regular brake pad inspections, maintaining proper fluid levels, and bleeding the brake lines as needed can resolve these issues. Brake system maintenance should be done regularly to ensure your safety.

3. Battery Problems

A weak or dead battery can leave you stranded, making it a critical component to monitor. Common causes of battery issues include a failing charging system, loose connections, or an old battery. Regularly checking the battery’s charge, ensuring connections are tight, and replacing the battery when it shows signs of aging can prevent unexpected failures.

4. Chain Issues

A loose or rusted chain can lead to poor performance and even safety hazards. Regular lubrication, tension adjustments, and cleaning can extend the life of your chain and ensure smooth operation. If the chain is excessively worn or damaged, replacement is necessary.

5. Tire Wear and Tear

Tires are a critical safety component, and worn-out tires can lead to poor handling and increased risk of accidents. Regularly inspect your tires for signs of wear, cracks, or punctures. Keeping tires properly inflated and replacing them when the tread wears down can improve performance and safety.

6. Suspension Problems

Issues with the suspension can cause a rough ride and affect the handling of your bike. Common symptoms include unusual noises, uneven tire wear, or a bouncy ride. Regular inspection of the suspension components and timely replacement of worn-out parts can maintain a comfortable and safe ride.

7. Electrical System Issues

Electrical problems can range from faulty lights to issues with the bike’s ignition system. Common causes include blown fuses, loose connections, or worn-out wiring. Regular inspections of the electrical system and addressing issues promptly can prevent more significant problems.

Seasonal Bike Maintenance Tips

Different seasons bring different challenges for bike maintenance. Here are some tips to keep your bike in top condition throughout the year:

1. Monsoon Maintenance

The monsoon season can be particularly harsh on motorcycles. Rainwater can cause rusting, while wet roads increase the chances of slipping. During the monsoon, it’s crucial to keep your bike dry, lubricate the chain more frequently, and ensure that your tires have good tread for better grip on wet surfaces. Check and maintain your brake system as well, as wet conditions can affect braking efficiency.

2. Winter Maintenance

Cold weather can affect your bike’s battery, engine oil, and tires. During winter, it’s essential to keep your battery charged, use the appropriate grade of engine oil for cold temperatures, and regularly check tire pressure as cold air can cause tires to deflate. Covering your bike when not in use can also prevent moisture buildup and protect it from the elements.

3. Summer Maintenance

High temperatures can lead to engine overheating and increased wear on tires. In summer, ensure that your cooling system is functioning correctly, and check your tire pressure frequently as heat can cause the air inside tires to expand. Keeping your bike clean and well-lubricated can also prevent heat-related issues.

4. Pre-Ride Checks

Regardless of the season, performing a quick pre-ride check can catch potential issues before they become problems. Check your tire pressure, brake functionality, oil levels, and lights before heading out. These simple checks can prevent breakdowns and ensure a safe ride.

Environmental Considerations for Bike Maintenance

In today’s world, it’s essential to consider the environmental impact of vehicle maintenance. Here are some tips to ensure that your bike servicing practices are environmentally friendly:

1. Proper Disposal of Oil and Batteries

Used engine oil, filters, and batteries should never be disposed of in regular trash. These items contain hazardous materials that can harm the environment. Always ensure that your service center disposes of these materials properly, or take them to a recycling facility yourself.

2. Use of Eco-Friendly Products

Consider using eco-friendly lubricants, cleaners, and coolants that are less harmful to the environment. These products are designed to reduce environmental impact without compromising performance.

3. Maintaining Fuel Efficiency

Keeping your bike well-maintained can improve fuel efficiency, reducing your carbon footprint. Regular servicing, proper tire inflation, and avoiding unnecessary idling can all contribute to better fuel economy.

4. Reduce Noise Pollution

A well-maintained bike runs quieter, reducing noise pollution. Regularly checking and maintaining your exhaust system can prevent excessive noise and ensure your bike remains within legal noise limits.

Conclusion: Keeping Your Bike in Top Shape

Maintaining your bike is about more than just keeping it running; it’s about ensuring that it performs at its best, remains safe to ride, and lasts for many years. In Gwalior, where the love for two-wheelers is evident in every corner of the city, finding a reliable bike service center is crucial for every rider.

Whether you’re a daily commuter, a weekend rider, or a motorcycle enthusiast, following the tips and guidelines outlined in this article can help you make informed decisions about your bike’s maintenance. From understanding the importance of regular servicing to choosing the right service center, and from addressing common bike issues to adopting eco-friendly practices, this comprehensive guide provides everything you need to keep your motorcycle in peak condition.

At The Wheels Care in Gwalior, we pride ourselves on offering top-notch service for all types of motorcycles. Our team of skilled technicians is dedicated to ensuring that your bike receives the best care possible. Whether you need routine maintenance, a major repair, or custom modifications, we’re here to help.

For more information about our services or to book an appointment, visit our website or contact us directly. Ride safe, and keep your bike in top shape!

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