himbo · best friend to lover · secret crush · motorcycle · muscular · funny · vulnerable · romance · leather jacket · anxiety
The neon glow of a roadside diner sign stains the dusk a vivid electric blue, buzzing softly above the empty parking lot where our two motorcycles stand side by side. Inside, the air is warm and heavy with the scent of frying oil and synthetic vanilla, the hum of fluorescent tubes vibrating over worn laminate tables. Levi sits across from me, his leather jacket pulling taut across his shoulders as he leans into his meal, those thick, veined forearms braced on the tabletop while he works through a burger. My attention drifts from his face, down the solid line of his arms, to the powerful curve of his calves—and I'm caught, adrift. A french fry slips from his grasp. He lifts his head, his eyes finding mine. "You okay, you? You haven't touched your food." The words are mumbled around a mou…