Boldd Move

*Halcyon Circuit, the premiere formula one race track located in scenic downtown Halcyon*

The walls of the Halcyon Circuit loom in the background as Mel, decked out in his least grease-spattered t-shirt, seeks shelter from the sun in the shade of a bronze statue of some silver age hero standing next to a Formula One car.

He pulls out his phone, turning it over his hands, then shoves it back in his pocket. A shadow passes overhead and he looks up as Wingnut descends and lands on his shoulder. Mel reaches up to rub her beak in greeting and winces at the heat of the metal. "Hey, pal," he says. "Any sign of him?"

Wingnut shakes her head and hops down to perch on the base of the statue beside him. Just before he can respond, Mel feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey!” Tadd says, covered in much fresher grease, “Sorry if I kept you waiting. I had to finish up the body work before the race.” Usually all style, today he is sporting half a mechanic’s jumpsuit, and he’s clearly a little out of breath from having rushed to the meetup from somewhere deep in the circuit complex.

Mel nearly jumps out of his skin and whirls around. "Jesus!" He yells, then laughs. "You scared the shit outta me, dude. You even got past Wingnut." He elbows Tadd playfully. "You're nearly as sneaky as me."

“Well maybe she just doesn’t recognize me without my killer threads.” (winks handsomely)

Mel snorts. "Yeah, sure," he says. "That must be it." Pushing off the base of the statue, he stretches, looks up at the stadium, then looks back at Tadd. "I could've helped if I knew you had work on the car to do." He jerks his head towards the stadium. "So do we just walk in now?"

Tadd motions to follow as he heads toward the track, “I’ll lead you to the competitors' entrance-- If it makes you feel any better, all the work was boring and I had to be in at like 6am to get started.” He pauses with a laugh and says “We gotta keep you fresh for the flamethrower install, right?”

Mel follows after him with a hop. Wingnut flies back to his shoulder and sits there, staring immovably at Tadd. Mel doesn't seem bothered and laughs. "Please, I could install a flamethrower in my sleep." His eyes light up and he leans over to knock his shoulder against Tadd's. "So are we doing that before or after the race?" He smirks. "I wouldn't want us to get disqualified for having too cool a car."

“Are you kidding?” Tadd shoots back, clearly hamming it up as he puts on his aviators, “We’d already be disqualified if coolness was illegal.” There’s a pause before he chimes in, “But, yeah, uh, I figured afterward when we have the pit to ourselves would be the best time. And hey, you can help me switch back to the soft top.”

Off to the side of the complex, away from the main entrance for spectators, a line of racers and mechanics waits to be checked in by a somewhat frazzled looking organizer. Tadd leads Mel into line, and continues being handsome as the two wait their turn. Somewhat abruptly, with only two or three people in line before them, Tadd leans down to Mel and whispers “By the way, You’re 21. Okay?”

Mel's eyebrows shoot up, then he snickers. "Yeah, okay," he drawls. "What, you want me to announce it?"

Tadd motions to the frazzled organizer, “You see that guy?” He says, without looking away, almost like he’s sizing them up… “He’s a cop.”

“Not a *cop* cop, but he’s got big cop energy.” Tadd continues, “He’s going to see two teens in line and immediately question if we are old enough to compete. Which, we totally aren’t. But fuck that guy, I paid for my stall.”

Mel snorts. "Yeah, alright, I'm with you. Fuck that guy. But I'm not worried." He rolls his shoulders. "I've managed to not get arrested for stuff way worse than sneaking into a race. Just act like we totally belong, and he's the one that's wrong!" He beams at Tadd.

Tadd gives a sly grin, “You know, I had a feeling that you were the only one who actually belonged in super detention.”

. . .

With a clatter of metal, Tadd hefts open the rolling door of garage 26. The garage is small and grease-spattered, with just enough space for a car and a rack of tools shoved against one wall. Juxtaposed with its dingy surroundings is the shining silver and black thunderbird sitting in the middle of the room.

Tadd gestures towards it with pride, “Well, there she is. In the flesh. I believe it’s your first formal meeting? Mel, this is Evelyn. Evie, this is Mel.”

Mel exhales, abandoning Tadd to go over to the car. He runs his fingers lightly over the hood. "She's even prettier up close." He lays his hand flat on the hood and lines of purple light snake out from his hand into the car. A moment later, they retreat and he pulls his hand back. He smiles at Tadd over his shoulder. "You take good care of her, huh?"

Tadd crosses his arms, leaning back and taking in Mel’s enthusiasm with satisfaction, “I always take care of beautiful things.”

Mel looks up from inspecting the detailing on the hood and flashes Tadd a grin. "Well, Evie definitely deserves it. She's in *great* shape, we're gonna kill it today."

Frowning just a bit, Tadd walks over to the car patting the hood, “There are certain disadvantages we’re going up against because I didn’t just *buy* a track car. A thunderbird body isn’t the most aerodynamic for turns.”  He pauses for a moment, before turning and grinning, “But the other racers can win with their perfect machines and then they can store them away for the next race. I’m driving *my girl*. And it’s worth the extra work.”

"*Hell* yeah, dude!" Mel holds his hand up for a high five, and Tadd high fives him. "That's what it's *about*. You gotta love your machines." He scritches Wingnut's chest and she pauses in staring at Tadd to run her beak through his hair affectionately. "I'm lucky because mine can talk back to me, but I bet if Evie could talk to you she'd have only nice things to say."

He reaches out and lightly bumps Tadd's shoulder with his knuckles. "You're a good dude, Tadd."

“Heh, I don’t know abo--”

“ATTENTION COMPETITORS, RACERS ON YOUR MARK IN 20 MINUTES.”

“Oh shit, okay, we have to go over some things before race time!” Tadd quickly starts taking off his mechanic onesie, while simultaneously pulling a driver’s suit out of a locker next to the car, “So I figured to be fair, I can take the first 30 laps-- Wait, can you drive?”

Mel hops up from the hood of the car and starts bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for instructions. He freezes at Tadd's question and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "Okay, so, uh… high tech future cars? Yes. Regular mundane cars? That's... A solid maybe."

“Hah, superheroes.” Tadd laughs, almost dismissively, “Well, alright, formula 1 is maybe not the way to find out? But then again, this is formula 1 *lite* so, how about I take the first half of the laps, and you be my pit crewe, and then you can decide if you feel comfortable getting behind the wheel for the second half. How does that sound?”

Mel claps his hands together. "Yes! I can definitely be your pit crew! I'm super good at fixing machines, it's like, my whole thing." He casts around the garage and snatches up an impact wrench. He waves it at Tadd and whirrs it a couple times, grinning. "I'm all over it."

He holds out his free hand for a fist bump. "Hey, good luck, Tadd."

Tadd fist bumps, and explodes the fist bump, “We’ll make our own luck."

. . .

Another lovely day at the Halcyon Open as the drivers line up at the start. A friendly reminder that this amatuer track day is brought to you entirely by local sponsors, including this commentary, courtesy of SteakOuts(™)! ‘Remember, when you want a NightOuts, think SteakOuts!’

… The cars are in fine form. Number 11, sponsored by Philosotea, is first in the line up. This race had no qualifiers so position was determined by raffle, hopefully their luck will hold out. A striking neon green paint job on The Joint Effort, number 42-- I believe they requested that number specifically-- Screaming Beans in car number 07, I believe that’s a Porsche 718, beautiful car…

… And they’re off! Wowie, aggressive off the line for Number 26, with a gorgeous, if impractical Thunderbird body kit. Muscling out Number 15, brought to you by the Legitimate Print Shop. But they’re fighting for the middle while Philosotea holds their lead in the front, with number 33 Sweet Nothings holding in second and looking for their opening...

… The pack is spreading out as the difference in machines makes itself obvious, reminder to viewers that the Halcyon Open is open to any amateur competitor and any road legal machines, exemplified by the spunky but doomed Daddy Jack’s Pizza van, number 21 trucking along in last place, but there’s no shame in last in the Halcyon Open, it’s all about the spirit of competition, brought to you by SteakOuts(™)!, SteakOuts; “There’s Been a MeatCrime(™), investigate it at SteakOuts!”...

… Drivers are making plays for first, The Joint Effort and Screaming Beans work together to hotbox Philosotea out of the 12th turn, while in the midcard Legitimate Print Shop and Cover Story are fighting the Self-Funded Thunderbird in the straight away coming up to turn 9, it’s a contest of speed and braking to see who can slow down last, Cover Story really over estimating their handling and OH MY Cover Story clips the Thunderbird on the left side, there’s some serious damage on the Front left tire, the Thunderbird barely keeps it together around the corner. That’s axle damage folks! I think the Thunderbird is going to be out of the race for a while…

...And an update on the Thunderbird as it limps into the pit. Not seeing much of a crew there, looks like one other person-- The driver is getting out, maybe he wants to-- Wait, He’s getting back in. I think the mechanic waved him off? It’s going to be a long repair with just one set of hands. But you know what they say, drivers are drivers and mechanics are-- Hold on, is he-- folks the Thunderbird is pulling away! This is incredible! That’s the fastest one man pit stop I’ve ever seen! It’s driving straight and true I don’t think they cut any corners! The Thunderbird is back in the race, what an incredible turn!

. . .

The long shadow of the stadium stretches out over the race track as the sun slowly sinks behind the walls. Mel sits in the stands, Wingnut perched on the handrail in front of him. He tosses a small, cylindrical bit of metal between his hands idly, but shoves it in his pockets and perks up as he spots Tadd approaching, laden with drinks and hotdogs.

"Thanks," he says with a grin, accepting his and leaning back against the bench behind him. He knocks his knee against Tadd's. "I know I said it before, but that was some awesome driving, dude."

Tadd, who has already eaten an entire hotdog, grumbles through his stuffed face, “Bwllshiht. Fwck myh dwrihving!,” He gulps, “That pit stop-- That pit stop made up twelve laps. Easy.”

Mel laughs. "I don't know much about racing, but that sounds like way too many laps."

“It would have taken me fifteen laps to do that repair,” Tadd shrugs, “So you made up twelve laps by doing it in *three*.”

Mel laughs again, turning his head slightly to hide his blush. "Yeah, okay, I can do the math." He glances back over at Tadd, then holds out his cup. "To teamwork, then?"

Getting closer, Tadd raises his drink, “To taking care of beautiful things.”

Mel taps his cup against Tadd's and coughs awkwardly. "Yeah, like I said. Evie definitely deserves it."

Tadd groans, rolls his eyes, and thwaps Mel on the back of his head. “Take the compliment, idiot.”

Mel turns bright red and chokes on his drink. He raises a finger and opens his mouth to object but freezes as Wingnut alights from the handrail and glides over to land on Tadd's shoulder. He looks between her and Tadd, then somehow goes even redder and slowly drops his finger. "Yeah," he says, ducking his head to hide his smile. "Okay."

He shifts over and nudges his shoulder against Tadd's, looking up and smiling shyly at him.

“Um…So... What’s with this bird on my shoulder?” Tadd says after a beat while definitely. not. moving.

That startles Mel out of his awkwardness and he laughs. "Oh my god, that's so rude of me. I never introduced you! And you even introduced me to your car!" He shifts on the bench to better face Tadd and gestures to Wingnut. "Tadd, this is Wingnut. Wingnut, Tadd. She's my number one partner in crime."

He holds out his arm and Wingnut hops from Tadd's shoulder to perch on Mel's arm. He scritches under her beak affectionately. "I rescued her from a supervillain and got my powers in the process and we've been inseparable ever since."

“Oh, you didn’t build her?” Tadd says, popping open a bag of candies, and offering one to Mel, “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever talked about your powers. You talk to machines right?”

"Nope," Mel says, accepting the candy and popping it in his mouth. "There's this old guy called Gearhead, right, and he built her body. Not her AI though, I don't know where he got that." He taps the side of Wingnut's head, and she leans into his hand. "I got my powers when I put her in the bird body. They're like… talking to machines is the easiest way to put it, I guess. Except most machines don't, like, *talk*. It's more like… I can… like, mind-meld? With them? And I can see how they work, and how I can fix them if they're broken. And sometimes I can convince them to do something, but… uh, not always." He laughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck, then perks up. "The coolest thing, though, is that, like… interfacing with Wingnut and other machines and stuff have made it way easier to figure out how to put together my own robots."

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoves it under Tadd's nose, scrolling through his camera app to show picture after picture of Lugnut - Lugnut prancing around the workshop with a basketball held daintily between pointed teeth, Lugnut frozen stiff staring up a tree at a squirrel, Lugnut perched on the edge of a rooftop silhouetted against the Halcyon skyline, Lugnut with a white cat curled up on his back looking pleadingly at the camera, Lugnut nested up in the corner of the workshop in a pile of tree branches, scrap metal, and assorted cushions, a selfie of Mel with an arm around Lugnut's neck leaning against his head. "This is Lugnut," he says, his voice full of pride and affection. "Tiago and I built him together."

Tadd takes the liberty of swiping through a few more photos himself, “Seems like he’s more your robot than Tiago’s.”

Mel snickers. "Well, it was my idea to make him. And Tiago can't drive him. We didn't give him any controls, and he's not always so good at following spoken instructions. He tries so hard, but he doesn't always get it. So I'm the only one who can do anything really fancy with him. Like, y'know, climbing a building or fighting a giant magic monkey construct. He's big enough to fit passengers, though." He laughs. "No seatbelts. But that's only been a problem, like, a *few* times."

Tadd reaches over and brushes Mel’s bob out of his eyes, “I doubt you wear a helmet, either.” He grins with approval.

Mel blushes again. "Well," he says, drawing out the word. "If your brother or my sister asks, then absolutely I do. But between us?" He shrugs, smiling. "I usually don't bother." He looks back down at his phone and his smile slowly fades. He locks his phone and curls in on himself, pulling his hand back into his lap. "Not… not that it matters anymore."

Tadd raises an eyebrow, “*Sounds* like it matters…”

Mel's hand tightens around his phone and his shoulders stiffen. "Yeah, it *does* matter," he says bitterly. He keeps speaking, the words tumbling out of him in a rush as tears well up in his eyes. "It *matters* because I love Lugnut, and he got hurt fighting with me, and now he's *lost* in *time* and I don't know how long it's gonna take to get him back, and he doesn't know what's happening to him and people get *scared* of him and he can't defend himself or run away if someone tries to hurt him because he's *injured* and--" He sucks in a deep, shuddering breath and scrubs at the tear tracks on his cheeks. "I miss him so much and I'm so *scared* for him."

As the sun finishes setting behind the walls of the stadium, Tadd reaches out and wordlessly pulls Mel in. He lets him cry into his shoulder for several long moments, and as the stadium lights flicker on one by one, he says, “You’re putting too much responsibility on yourself."

His eyes flick over to Wingnut, staring at him from the bench beside Mel with her head cocked slightly. He looks back down at Mel and lightly jostles him. "Lugnut and Wingnut aren’t *just* robots that do whatever you command. They're your teammates. They go into situations with you because they choose to, just like any of your friends." He gives Mel a gentle squeeze. "And if you trust them enough to protect you, you need to trust them enough to protect *themselves*. Lugnut is going to be just fine, because he can handle himself. Because he’s as much a hero as you are.”

Mel pulls himself up, drawing back but keeping one hand on Tadd's chest. He gives Tadd a long, searching look, then blurts out, "I want to kiss you."

Tadd leans in towards Mel and their eyes begin to close, “Wait…” He stops Mel with a gentle hand on his chest. “You should know, um… I kissed Faith, like, *two* days ago…” he trails off, resigned.

Mel gives Tadd a wide-eyed, blank look, the gears audibly grinding in his head. He blinks twice, and then something seems to click. "Oh! Uh--I'm poly." He offers Tadd an awkward grin.

Tadd suppresses a laugh and smiles. Mel's smile softens as he leans forward and lightly bumps their foreheads together, then finally closes the distance and kisses him.