CHAPTER 2 - CANE SUGAR
cane sugar
CHAPTER two
David was a blasphemous Italian. He liked drinking coffee with pasta, and one of the best espressos he’d ever had in Italy came from the McDonald’s in the Centrale train station. David spent many weekends at karting tracks up and down the country as a kid. He always felt out of place among curly-haired Italian boys as a blond-haired, blue-eyed German. Thankfully, his ability behind the wheel stopped the bullying early on—that, or the fact that David had a mean right hook for a nine year-old.
Noah knew he wasn’t a saint, but David had yet to tell him about the nasty parts of his childhood. Like father, like son. Noah had no idea what that was like. His dad was a nice man who lived in a little house on a hill in Tennessee and liked researching beef cattle.
David had been forged in competitive fire by a father who never had the money to put himself through the rigors of racing. Klaus had ruled David with an iron fist, and David was a better driver because of it. Noah refused to believe that, but it was true. If Klaus hadn’t forced him to drive on the karting track for hours and hours to earn his meals as a kid, he never would have learned how to be fast. Racing was trial and error—David had a thousand trials before he turned ten, and bore the bruises from every error.
“Un café, per favore,” David said as he approached the bar at a café outside of Milan Centrale. He checked his watch. Noah was running late.
“American?” the barista asked with a snicker. Italians.
“Tedesco,” David answered flatly.
Some of the smirk on the man’s face fell away. Teasing Americans was fun—Germans, not so much. David hated that about Europe now. He used to think it was funny to point and laugh at the loud Americans and their inability to adapt to different cultures.
Now he loved one so much, he’d sooner square up to a barista than allow anyone to make fun of any part of Noah.
David checked his watch again. “Eh, due cappuccini. Scusi.”
“Prego. Due cappuccini,” the barista confirmed. “Sei euro e venti.”
He fished some coins out of his wallet and set a five-euro note on the bar top. He moved further down, past handsome men in linen shirts and baggy pants—fashion guys. A few women smoked outside, chatting in Italian at their table. He watched the other patrons while he waited and tried to imagine Noah sitting amongst them on the days David wasn’t here.
“Due cappuccini per il tedesco,” the barista said after a few minutes, sliding over two cappuccinos.
David opened his mouth to thank him when a familiar figure stepped through the door.
The whole world stopped whenever Noah entered a room. His dazzling grin made everyone’s eyes light up, and his tan glowed in the morning light of Milan. He was wearing a loud silk shirt in navy blue, maroon, and white, with black pants that highlighted his long torso.
“Fuck, sorry I’m late,” Noah said, rushing over to David past some onlookers. The Italian women outside turned in their chairs to look at him, and Italian women didn’t do that for anyone .
David still hadn’t found words when Noah pressed their lips together for a perfect kiss. He tasted slightly minty and smelled like fancy shampoo with a splash of cologne. David curled his fingers into the cool silk of his shirt and kissed back happily.
“Hey,” David finally managed to say over the sound of his beating heart. “I got you a cappuccino already.”
Noah pretended to be shocked by the two cups. “You ordered cappuccinos in Italy, and they didn’t throw you out?”
“In realtà parlo Italiano,” David teased.
“Uh-huh, grazie, prego,” Noah replied, and the barista rolled his eyes at Noah’s Australian-American abomination of an Italian accent.
David grabbed his cappuccino saucer and nodded toward a cozy pair of seats by the window, away from prying eyes. Italians in general weren’t too fond of same-sex couples, but Milan was its own world. David had been worried about it when he first visited Noah a month ago, but Noah greeted him at the airport by sticking his tongue down David’s throat, and nobody said a word. His worries ended pretty quickly after that.
“How was your flight?” Noah asked, pressing a kiss to his temple before taking his seat.
“Short,” David said, opening a packet of sugar for his cappuccino.
“Want mine?” Noah offered, grabbing his packet of sugar.
“Sure,” David said, sprinkling the amber crystals onto his milk foam. They punctured the bubbles and made little pockets. Noah poured his sugar in, and David used the little spoon he’d been given to mix it.
“How do you feel about taking a walk through the city? Did you drop your stuff with the driver?” Noah asked.
“I did, and you did not have to send someone to pick up my luggage, Noah,” David replied with a smile. “But that was very nice of you.”
As a kid, he never would have imagined having someone meet him at the airport just to grab his luggage. He especially wouldn’t have imagined his boyfriend setting that up for him. David reached across the table and took Noah’s hand. Noah responded by tangling their fingers together as he took his first sip of coffee.
“I missed you,” David said.
Noah smiled so wide his eyes crinkled. “I missed you, too, baby.”
David didn’t let go of Noah’s hand until they had finished their drinks and stood to walk the city together. Noah offered his arm, and David took it with a laugh, leaning into him as they left their saucers and empty coffee cups behind. He leaned into Noah as they started their walk, conscious of every pair of eyes that drifted their way.
“What’s on your mind?” Noah asked, gently rubbing David’s back. David had elected for a gray shirt, a navy coat, and jeans—about as fashionable as he got without Noah’s help.
“I’m worried,” David admitted, and his heartbeat kicked up in his chest.
Noah slowed their pace. “Worried about what?”
David could see the freckles on his cheeks when they walked in the sunlight. They were usually hidden by his tan, but winter in Milan had apparently made them show up again.
“You and the baby,” David said. “I know we didn’t plan this, and I know it’s not what you wanted, but I’m going to be part of this baby’s life, Noah. I’m afraid that you don’t want to be part of that.”
Noah freed his arm to put it around David’s waist, tugging him on for a side hug and a kiss on the head. “I’m with you no matter what. You and this baby.”
“So why don’t you want to be part of anything?”
Noah let out a sigh. “I don’t know my place here, David. This is pretty unconventional—there’s not really a handbook for how to be the gay stepdad for an unborn kid. Right now, it doesn’t feel like it’s my place to make any decisions. I’m not your husband, and Caroline is your ex-girlfriend. You and Caroline are the parents here, not me.”
David frowned. “Okay, so we get married. Then you’re my husband.”
Noah laughed and gave him a squeeze. “You proposing to me, Jochmann?”
“Why not?”
Noah turned to look at him with love in his eyes. “Slow down, cowboy. I know we’re getting married eventually, but this part of a relationship is good. We don’t need to rush it because of a baby.”
“If it makes you feel more comfortable, then we can,” David said, rubbing Noah’s back through his coat.
Noah kissed his nose. “I love you, but I’m not rushing this for any reason. We’ve done enough rushing.”
David smiled softly. “La dolce vita. You like it here.”
“I do,” Noah admitted, “but I like being with you more. This is a nice vacation, but I’m gonna get the racing itch any day now.”
David hadn’t stopped to catch his breath since the season ended. His Formula America championship trophy was still sitting on his kitchen counter, where he’d set it after he’d won it in Miami. Since then, he’d been handling baby things, helping Noah’s recovery, and doing team duties via video call.
“How does your wrist feel?” David asked.
“Pretty good. Cold makes it act up. My PT says it’s healing well, though. Still looking like summer before I can get back in the car.”
David nuzzled into Noah’s shoulder. “Are you sure going to the races will be okay for you? Won’t it be like torture?”
Noah smiled. “Hope not. Evan has already been texting me about setups and shit like that. Finlay’s got him mostly under control, but he’s still a rookie. If I go into the season in mentor mode, I think I’ll be fine. I’ll be like Maverick in the new Top Gun. ”
David frowned. He hadn’t seen Top Gun . He also didn’t like Evan Faris, Noah’s replacement at Cobalt. Noah told him they kissed once while he and Noah were apart. David hated thinking about it, but every time he heard that country accent and caught a glimpse of Evan’s stupid man bun, jealousy coursed through him.
Evan was openly bisexual. He was currently dating a mechanic from Yellowjacket Racing, and they’d spent the whole winter break taking selfies on ski slopes in Colorado. Nobody left hate comments on Evan’s profile, but they loved to unload on David’s.
Noah got a few angry people on his social media accounts, but Cobalt Racing had mostly taken over policing his pages. David didn’t have that luxury. Oxbow’s PR team told him to ride out the storm, but that storm had been raging for almost three months now. Every time he logged in, he had a dozen new messages and comments calling him slurs in multiple languages.
A lot of people who were fans of Noah hated him, too. Fans had put together a timeline of their relationship, and they hated him for the way he’d spoken about Noah in Virginia two years ago, when Noah lost his championship battle to Finlay.
David still had nightmares about that interview, especially since he’d been completely convinced he was right in what he was saying at the time.
“You alright, Davey Jones?” Noah asked softly.
David blinked back to reality. “Sorry.”
Noah turned them down a new street, and David realized he hadn’t been paying any attention to where they were going.
“I’m trying for you, babe,” Noah said. “I always kinda thought there was a chance I’d be an accidental dad with the stupid lifestyle I used to live—”
i sincerely hope this homosexual lifestyle trend dies soon. it’s so fucking lame to see drivers going woke.
Someone had written that under David’s first picture of him and Noah together in Milan. It was just a selfie of the two of them smiling, like many they’d posted while they raced for Oxbow. There wasn’t anything gay about it.
“I don’t know how to deal with it,” Noah finished. “I’m here for you, though. And once Davey Junior is here, I think it’ll be easier to find my groove.”
“It’s my baby. My child isn’t something to deal with, Noah,” David snapped.
Noah stepped back, surprised. His warmth vanished into the chilly winter air, too. “Hey, that’s not what I said.”
David lifted his chin, his hackles rising. “This is happening, Noah. Putting it off is only going to make it harder for you to be part of it when the baby is here.”
Noah shook his head. “David, I’m not picking a fight with you. Stop looking at me like you want a fight.”
“I want you involved in my life,” David said. “This baby is about to be my life, and you’re running away from it.”
Noah set his jaw. Everything inside David told him to shut up—except the rage boiling under his skin. The same rage from when he beat up bullies on the karting track as a kid.
“I’m not running away from anything,” Noah said. “I’m definitely not running away from you. I just don’t know what my place is yet, but I’m taking it one step at a time. Just like you.”
David bristled, ready to bite back, but Noah took his hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss his knuckles.
David softened instantly. The rage gave way to affection, and the sense of oncoming loneliness disappeared with the warmth of Noah’s little kisses.
“I’m sorry,” David murmured. “I’m just scared.”
His cheeks flushed with the admission, and he had to turn his face away out of shame. His father told him fear was weakness. Admitting to fear was asking for someone to use it against him.
“C’mere,” Noah soothed, pulling him into a hug. David hugged back tightly, taking in the feeling of Noah’s ribcage between his arms, expanding and contracting with his breaths. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m just telling you how I feel, the same way you’re telling me.”
David nodded against Noah’s shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, berating himself for coming so close to hurting Noah again when he swore he wouldn’t do that anymore. If he really loved Noah so much, why did he always default to defensive anger?
Line your camp with razor wire , his father always said. Make it hurt to get in or out without your permission.
“Let’s walk,” David said after a long moment. He leaned back, and Noah caught his mouth in a kiss. David melted into it, thankful for the chance to feel close again. People skittered around them on the sidewalk, but no one said anything to them in English or Italian. This time.
“You need a massage,” Noah said, gently kneading the nape of his neck as they started walking again. “I’m gonna book us one when we get home. There’s a really nice place up the street from me—at that hotel we had dinner at last time.”
“Okay,” David said uneasily. “I’m really sorry, Noah.”
Noah kissed the back of his hand. “It’s okay. There’s a lot on your plate.”
David swallowed. “No, that doesn’t excuse it. I need to be better.”
Noah squeezed his hand. “That’s why I’m calling it out before we get into a real fight. I still think you need to see someone about this, David. I know I put off the therapy stuff for too long myself.”
David shook his head. “I can’t trust Oxbow with any of that.”
Noah frowned. “You don’t have to use Oxbow therapists.”
“That’s worse. If Oxbow knows I’m in therapy and I’m keeping it from them, they’ll use that against me. All Hugh needs is a little crack, and he can make me shatter.”
Noah knew that better than everyone. David had learned the hard way how Oxbow could poison their drivers. He was currently the favorite on the team, but tides changed fast. Noah had been the favorite up until he left for Cobalt to save David’s shot at a championship—a debt David could never repay.
“You need to consider—”
“I am not leaving Oxbow,” David said, quiet but firm. “I have everything I could want as a driver, and LA works for both of us as a home base. Every other team is on the east coast except Cobalt, and I’m not going there.”
“It’s not worth your mental health, baby,” Noah said gently.
David gave him a pleading look. “As long as I have you around, I’ll be fine. They can’t keep us apart on race weekends anymore.”
Noah thumbed the side of his palm, soothing him. “Well, just know I’ll support any decision to fuck over Oxbow, and you can always talk with me about what they’re trying to pull.”
David blinked, stunned by his bluntness. David had joined Oxbow because of Noah’s legacy there—Noah was the best driver in Formula America; he just had bad luck. David still believed that. He’d joined Oxbow because Noah Caparelli had believed in it.
It was the best move David had ever made for his career and his life.
“I love you,” David said, because he could never say it enough.
Noah grinned at him and leaned in for a kiss that David happily returned. “Love you, too, Jochmann. There’s an awesome chocolate place here—wanna go?”
“Yeah,” David said. He’d go anywhere with Noah, as long as they went together.