We were at a clear disadvantage, I knew that. Not only did Arthur have less practice time here, he didn't have a professional, dedicated track guide watching the monitors for him. All he had was me: someone who knew a thing or two about wolf-cycle racing, but was definitely no professional. He was counting on me to help him improve his runs, and we both had to trust that my observations and advice were actually doing that.

"Increase by five on the upcoming corner," I said, wiping a gallon of sweat from my forehead. Being here on this track, knowing the challenge was really happening in just a couple days... There was real pressure now, pressure that I hadn't felt before. "Wait, decrease by five," I said, quickly. "Take it hard."

His voice gurgled through the radio. "Shit."

"I'm sorry," I said. I swallowed a lump in my throat and switched monitor views so that I could see the track from the top down. He banked hard into the corner right alongside Gregor's ghost, and pulled out of it slightly ahead. I breathed out in relief. "You came out ahead. Alright. Great."

"You okay?" he asked. I hit a button on the console, and a picture in picture display of inside his cockpit appeared on the monitor. His eyes were fixed and focused, his ears flattened back against his head. He looked far more relaxed than I felt. It was our sixth time through the course, and Arthur had only finished ahead once.

"Fine," I said, wiping away another torrent of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.

"You sound nervous," he said. "I can't have you being nervous. What's the matter?"

"Nervous? What are you talking about?" I squeaked out a nervous laugh, and then coughed it away.

"Perry..." His eyes flicked up to the camera for a half a second.

"Enter the next straightaway at open throttle," I said. "Release halfway through, and then decrease speed. Don't worry about me, Arthur. I'm managing over here."

His bike rocketed into the straightaway, increasing speed. On the monitor, his eyes narrowed into an intense grimace. He was still just even with the ghost bike, and never able to pull too far ahead, but also never falling too far behind. It was a constant stalemate, but that was a problem. He was just barely holding on to his position. One screw-up and it was over. It seemed like the chance of a win or loss was split down the middle, with the scaled teetering against him.

"I... need you... to not just... manage..." The force of accelerating into the straightaway made it hard to speak. His fur matted back, making it look like a fan was blowing in his face. Halfway into the straightaway, both he and the ghost eased off their throttles and then changed gears, cutting their speed. They curved into the turn at the end like two synchronized dancers. They zipped along The Walls like two mirror images of one another, and then entered the final straightaway before The Forest.

"I can't do this without your help," he said. "The only way I'm going to be able to get through this course ahead of Gregor is with you."

"I know," I said. "But that's what I'm worried about. Maybe we should hire a real track guide. Someone who really knows what they're doing."

"I need you," Arthur said. "Nobody else can do this except for you. You know why? Because we're connected. We've got something no one else has."

Of course.

He was right. I had to trust our connection, our love. He trusted it. He trusted me.

"Okay," I said. The overwhelming nervous feeling was subsiding. I was in control again. I nodded to myself and tapped the buttons on the control panel, bringing up readouts on both Arthur and Gregor's acceleration and brake pressure. "Final stretch. Let's beat that ghost."

"Alright," he said, a grin spreading across his muzzle.

"You're going to need to enter The Forest at top speed in order to match Gregor," I told him. "And you'll need to be precise as possible when going around the pylons."

He jammed the accelerator and flew into the obstacle, whizzing by the the gigantic concrete pillars. He was elegant, but Gregor's ghost still had an edge on him. His movements were obviously more economical than Arthur's, wasting absolutely no speed. It was adding up, and Arthur was pulling slightly behind. I could see the frustration in his face as he looked out the side of the cockpit window and saw Gregor ahead of him. His fangs were gritted in a snarl of concentration. On the monitor, I saw that he was opening the throttle, increasing speed.

"Careful," I said, alarmed. Going faster here wasn't necessarily the best idea. Too fast, and it'd be impossible to avoid clipping one of the pylons.

"Just a bit," he growled.

He'd evened his position again, but I could see that he was at the verge of being out of control.

"Slow down, Arthur," I said. "Slow down."

He kept the throttle open, and zigzagged between the pylons. I gripped the side of the monitor, my heart hammering with growing panic. Was I just afraid for him? Not pushing him hard enough because I didn't want to see him hurt? Or was he really in the danger my gut was telling me he was in?

"Slow down!" I shouted. He had pulled ahead, but...

He arced around a pylon, and it became obvious both to him and I that he was on a collision course with one straight ahead of him. The bike banked but couldn't turn fast enough. He slammed on the brakes, sending white smoke jetting from both his wheels. The bike spun on the track, like a whirligig blown in the wind. Every muscle in my body tensed as I watched him skid towards the pylon, the tires screeching across the asphalt.

"No!"

I watched as the bike stopped just inches away from slamming sideways into the pylon, smoke continuing to billow up from the tires. On the monitor, Arthur sat frozen, his eyes wide. Gregor's ghost disappeared into the distance.

"Shit," he muttered. "Dammit."

Arthur slowly brought the stalled engine back to life and pulled the bike through the rest of obstacle, and into the pit. He stepped out, shifting back to human form. I ran to him and pushed him.

"What the hell, Arthur?" I shouted.

He stumbled back and fell against the side of the wolf-cycle. He looked stunned and ashamed, and I grabbed him and hugged him tightly.

"If you're going to tell me those things, at least listen to me," I said. He was trembling slightly in my arms.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought... I wasn't thinking. I saw him pulling ahead of me and saw no other way."

"Dammit, you could've crashed. You know how delicate the balance is in that section. Speed doesn't always help."

"I know," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Perry."

We walked around the bike to inspect it. There was no visible damage, except that the tires were obviously worn.

"Maybe I could've pulled it off with fresh tires," he said. "Six runs without a tire change. That could be it."

"Or maybe you were just going too fast," I said. "Please don't do that again. You're going to kill me."

We brought the bike back in to the garage. Without a pit crew here, we couldn't change the tires. We'd just reached the limit of our practice for the night, and just as well. We'd both lost track of the time, and the exhaustion was catching up with us. That was how these kinds of mistakes happened...

When we got back to the house, Arthur filled the bathtub and the two of us dipped into it. Arthur wrapped me up in his arms as we sank into the piping hot water, and I felt the tension slowly dissipating from my body. I was surprised to feel him shivering.

"Arthur?" I turned to look at him, and he looked away. "What is it?" I asked.

"I really fucked up," he said. "I keep playing that moment over and over. I feel like an idiot, telling you to help me and then ignoring you like that. It could've been all over. I feel like... Like that was something Gregor would've done."

"No," I said. "Uh-uh." I brushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "You are in no way like that man. Not at all. Let’s just concentrate on what we have to do. How to beat him."

"Yeah," he said, and kissed me. We both sank further down into the tub as I relaxed into his arms. "How to beat him..."

"Maybe... I might have an idea."

"I'm open to any and all ideas."

"We have access to this new system, the ghost system. We've been racing against Gregor's records, trying to improve against his style of racing. Maybe we ought to be looking at other people?"

"Other people?"

"Other racers. Ones that have totally destroyed Gregor on the White Tree track. That way you pick up new techniques, and you see what his weaknesses are."

"Hounds of Hell," he said. "You're absolutely right." He kissed my cheek.

I grinned and tilted my head back to steal another kiss from him. "We make a pretty damn good team, don't we?"

He kissed my neck and my shoulder. "I'll say. I can't even imagine what I'd do without you."

As he kissed me, I felt excitement rushing between my thighs. In the heat of the bathwater, my cock hardened and rose. I let my hand sneak between his legs, and found his length. He smiled and murmured as I pulled on him, and his hand moved down to reciprocate. The water sloshed gently with our movements. The all-enveloping warmth of the bath only increased the pleasure of his strokes, and I moaned softly and pulled him into another kiss. I loved the feeling of his naked skin against me, the slippery curves of his muscles up against my back. Our tongues lolled against one another, teasing and exploring, and the heat emanating from the bath made my head spin.

"Can I wash you?" Arthur asked.

"Okay," I said, not exactly sure what he meant.

We stood up, and Arthur soaped up a bath sponge. I laughed. "You're literally going to wash me?"

"What did you think I meant?"

"I dunno. Something dirty."

"Calm down," he smiled. "Dirty comes later."

He scrubbed my body with the sponge, and then even shampooed my hair. I closed my eyes, unable not to fall into a state of relaxation as he massaged his fingers through my hair. Then he moved his hands down, massaging the soap into my neck and shoulders. He went down further still, to my arms, and my chest. My cock throbbed expectantly, but he teased me by skirting around the area, moving to my thighs and the rest of my legs. Then he turned the shower on and rinsed the soap off, taking care to wash all of the shampoo from my hair. My eyes still closed, I gasped as I felt a warm sensation play across my nipple. His tongue circled my right one, then my left and then he began to kiss his way down my chest. When he reached my stomach, he took time to kiss each of my abs. He was taking his sweet time getting down to my cock, and he knew it was driving me crazy. He kissed my inner thigh, and then the other, and for a second I considered twisting my hips and slapping him on the side of the head with my cock as punishment for teasing me, but refrained with a private smile.

Then, the tip of his tongue nipped my balls, sending a tingling shiver up through my entire body. I gasped and squirmed, waiting for more, but there was nothing.

"Keep your eyes closed," he said, and I did. A moment later, there was another playful lick on my balls. My cock bounced as I tightened my muscles in surprise. With all the anticipation, I could feel the precome that was beading up at the tip, probably dripping down into the water.

Suddenly, my cock was enveloped in a tight warmth, like being dipped into warm cream. My knees shook and I cried out and reached out to steady myself against the wall. Even with that incredible explosion of pleasure, I kept my eyes shut. I heard the bathwater moving gently, the only evidence of Arthur's movements. Otherwise, it just felt like unexplainable pleasure on my cock. At times, it felt like he was stroking me, other times sucking me. I had no idea what he could be doing to make me feel this good, and I didn't dare open my eyes to ruin the secret. I ran my hand back through my hair, laughing with amazement at how damn good it felt.

"Arthur, that's so good... Oh shit, keep doing that. Oh fuck, I'm going to come soon."

I heard him murmur in response; a happy, encouraging sound. I groaned as the climax hit me, bursting through my mind and my body like the trembling roar of an engine. I tossed my head back as the sensation rolled on, and Arthur continued to pleasure me. My legs trembled and shook, and I had to take a step back to stop myself from getting overwhelmed. I opened my eyes, and Arthur was there on his knees in front of me, licking his lips. Slowly, I lowered myself into the bath. My head spun like I'd just sprinted a mile.

"Hounds of Hell," I sighed, sinking down into the water to my chin. "That was good."

He came forward through the water and kissed me. "Relaxed?" he asked.

"Incredibly," I said. "But not so relaxed that I can't do this." I reached my hand through the water and took hold of his heavy cock, which hung just below the surface. His eyelids drooped sensuously as I stroked him, his lips parting just slightly to let out a contented sigh.

"Ah..."

I leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss. Then, with his cock still in my grasp, I turned around onto my knees and presented myself to him. I guided him forward, pulling him up to my entrance, and Arthur went the rest of the way himself. He took me by the waist and inched his way forward, pushing into me, inch by inch, until he finally reached the hilt.

"Oh, shit..." he murmured, and then slowly began to move his hips. Back and forth, back and forth. The water in the bathtub rocked with our movements, building momentum as he increased his speed and ferocity until it sloshed up like waves breaking on a wall. I pulled the plug, and the water slowly drained as he fucked me.

The slaps of skin against skin echoed through the tiled bathroom, and hearing those obscene noises only turned me on even more. A small whirlpool formed around the drain. The water level lowered, Arthur went harder. I lowered my head to the floor and pushed my ass up towards him, opening myself up more for his hard length.

He squeezed my ass to signal his nearing climax, and I felt his cock throb deep inside me as he made one final thrust. It continued to pulse with the waves of his orgasm, and the sound of our heavy breaths filled the room. We stayed locked like that for a moment, too taken by the pleasure of it all to even consider moving. Then, slowly, he withdrew from me, and I could feel his overflow spilling out of me, a delicious warmth. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, grinning as I did.

"Are you relaxed?" I asked him.

"Absolutely," he breathed.

We collapsed into the covers together, still naked. I nuzzled up to him and he put his arm around me. We both sighed, sleepy and happy, and burrowed deep into those welcoming blankets. I felt like I was glowing with warmth and love, like nothing in the universe could get any better than this. I lay there, feeling the embrace of sleep slowly drawing me in. I felt so safe with him. I remembered that thing that I'd been too nervous to tell him the other day, and gathered my courage. Why was I afraid to say it? It wasn't that big a deal, and yet it was.

"Hey," I said, "So that thing I was going to tell you the other day... I want to tell it to you now."

I was met with silence. "Arthur?" I asked, softly. I turned to look at his face and saw that he was asleep, his lips parted slightly as he breathed. He looked so peaceful. I knew how beat he was—we both were. I kissed his lips. They were soft on mine, and they unconsciously returned the kiss. He murmured in his sleep, and I kissed him again before relaxing into the pillow and closing my eyes. Within seconds, I was out.

* * *

I watched Arthur's bike running tandem next to two ghost bikes on the monitors, one belonging to Gregor, the other belonging to a local champion who had consistently come up on top against Gregor every time they'd raced at White Tree. Arthur was still struggling, but he was more determined than ever. And we were right—seeing this new race record was unveiling so many things about Gregor's technique. It was revealing to see how differently Gregor raced when he was up against someone he had a weakness against. It was obvious how fragile he was, how easily he could be shaken when not at the top.

"He just made a mistake," Arthur said. "Did you see that?"

"I did," I replied. "Went too hard on the brake. I can see him. I know exactly what was going through his head at that moment. He was furious about not anticipating the other racer in that turn. He's getting himself all worked up."

"Shit. He's still damn good, though."

I watched as the three bikes swung another hard corner, the new bike hugging the turn sharply and coming in the lead. Arthur pulled out last, just barely behind Gregor's. By the end of the lap, he pulled in neck and neck with him. I jogged over to meet him, and we took a moment to go over the race together, studying the technique of the new racer. Then Arthur went again. This time, we picked a different record from a different racer who had a perfect win record against Gregor.

I could see him improving. I could tell that a certain pressure that'd been there earlier was gone, now that he was free from Gregor's ghost.