This chapter is dedicated to Gary and Alex, the former recovering from a dehydration-caused collapse and the latter from a broken vertabrae and three broken ribs. *cue music* To these brave men who risk their lives every day for their work, I give you...a chapter about how gay they are. *tear*
Title: Very Bad Jockey Slash Fic, 4/4
Disclaimer: All right, homies. It's time for the truth. The jockeys mentioned in this fic are not homosexual, as far as I know.
Pairings: Gary Stevens/Alex Solis, Corey Nakatani/David Flores,
Rating: R, for swearing and references to sexual situations
Genre: Humor, melodrama, angst
Warnings: Any time Tyler makes an appearance, he warrants a warning.
Summary: The plan! The plan!
“This is your idea of a plan?” Alex asked disbelievingly. He felt like throwing himself off a building, but considering the fact the jockeys’ room was only one story, it probably wouldn’t be very effective. Gorging himself with comfort food was also not an option. Obesity or pigging out on fatty foods was like Roswell; jockeys knew it existed, but no one dared to find out from first-hand experience.
“Do you have a better idea?” David glared at him, miffed that his Great Work of Genius was not being greeted with more, oh, he didn’t know, grateful groveling and sexual favors.
“Well, no…” Alex bit his lip.
“My point exactly,” said David triumphantly.
“Shut the fuck up,” Alex snapped. “If I had one, it sure as hell wouldn’t involve posing as goddamn superheros and wearing tights.”
David tightened his lips into a thin white line. His hand clutched the spandex material convulsively.
“You’re killing it,” Corey said, tapping on David’s fist.
One death glare from David and Corey shrank away, whimpering.
Alex forgot the tension-filled situation they were in and grinned. “Well I’ll be damned. Looks like you wear the pants in the relationship after all, David.” He continued speaking blithely, unaware of the murderous expression forming on David’s face. “I mean, I always thought you wore the skirt, and a pink frilly one too, but apparently--”
David stuffed the spandex into Alex’s mouth, effectively shutting him up.
“You two listen to me,” he said carefully. “We’re going to save Gary. We’re going to wear these fabulous superhero costumes I made--” He spared a meaningful look for Alex, who held up his hands in submission. “--and scare the living daylights out of that upstart Tyler Baze.” David paused again to sniff at Tyler’s audacity.
He turned to Alex, whose hands were still up. David grasped him by the shoulders dramatically, ignoring the fact that Alex still had a ball of spandex in his mouth. He gazed deeply into Alex’s eyes.
“We’re going to win this,” David choked out emotionally, tears filling his eyes. “We’re going to go in there and get him back. Tyler doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Mmmf mmm,” said Alex, touched.
“David’s right,” Corey piped up. “We’re gonna win ‘cause we’re gay jockeys!”
“Corey, honey,” said David patiently. “Tyler’s a gay jockey too.”
“All right, boys!” David clapped his hands together like a retarded seal. “Let’s get our suits on!”
Tyler’s finger was now dangerously close to Gary Jr., causing Gary to make noises commonly associated with a drunk squirrel.
"Have you forgotten that I'm your uncle, Tyler?" Gary said, desperation making him sport a hunted look on his face like that on a rabbit being chased by a pack of gun-toting Texans.
Tyler’s finger paused.
“We’re not related by blood.” It continued relentlessly on his south-bound journey, millimeter by millimeter. “Besides, I’m related to practically everyone in the racing world.”
“That’s--” Gary’s voice broke. “--besides the point! This is wrong! This is incest! HELP!”
Tyler gagged Gary with a handful of bread. Gary groaned in terror as he felt the carbs seep into his system and tilt his already precarious weight up.
Tyler stroked Gary’s thigh tenderly. “Never question our love again, Gary. It is written in the stars. You and I are meant to be.”
The door exploded.
David, Corey, and Alex stood before the room where Tyler was currently molesting Gary.
“I can’t believe I had to wear the rainbow one,” Alex hissed. He fidgeted uncomfortably, feeling a wedgie forming.
“Corey and I had already called the magenta and lilac ones,” David whispered airily. “Enough chitter chatter. Let’s get this party started. One--two--”
“I need to pee.”
Alex and David turned to stare at Corey, who was shifting from one foot to the other.
“Hold. It.” Alex’s voice bore no room for argument.
David wretched his concerned gaze from Corey and took a deep breath. “One--two--”
“I really gotta pee.”
“Fucking hold it!”
“Maybe we should find a bathroom--”
“No, David. Go on.”
Three things happened simultaneously: The explosive went off, Alex let out a war cry, and Corey peed in his tights.
Wooden shards that used to be a door flew in every direction. Alex, guided by his love for Gary and hatred for Tyler, ran through the debris.
“I’M HERE, GARY!” Alex hollered. “GARY! WHERE ARE YOU?”
“Underneath your foot,” Gary said weakly. He had never been more glad to be trodden on in his life.
Alex quickly removed his foot from Gary’s torso and bent down, hugging him tightly.
“Oh God,” Alex cried. “I thought I would never see you again.” He cradled Gary’s face in his hands reverently.
“I’m here,” Gary whispered. “I’m here.”
They shared a passionate, loving kiss. Their emotions seemed to separate them from the rest of the dust-filled room, creating a halo around them that no one could touch.
Tyler watched on in rage. Alex would not get away with this. That bastard would not take Gary away from him, not when he was so close to getting everything he had ever wanted in his life. He reached inside his pants and slowly pulled out a gun.
“Not so fast.”
Tyler whipped around. The last thing he saw before he got an eyeful of pepper spray was David Flores' smirking face.
“AUGH!” Tyler ran from the room screaming, hands clawing at his face.
David, mission accomplished, stared mistily at Gary and Alex’s touching reunion. They were now cooing over each other, each taking the blame for what happened.
“What is it, sweetie?” David turned happily to face Corey, who sported a spreading stain on the crotch of his tights.
“I think Tyler got run over by an ice-cream truck.”
“Ooh!” David clapped his hands like a retarded seal for the second time in one day. “I love happy endings!”