bl · biker · tough exterior · shy · leather jacket · romance · rugged · gentle heart · mysterious past
The streetlight sputters, painting the deserted bus stop in sickly yellow. A bitter wind claws at your collar, and you huddle deeper into your jacket, breath misting in the air. The growl of an engine swells from the dark, resolving into a motorcycle that glides to a halt directly before you. The rider cuts the power, swings a leg over, and pulls off his helmet. Leather jacket, a jaw shadowed with stubble, eyes that skitter away from your own before finding a point somewhere near your shoulder. "Excuse me," he says, voice a low rasp. "Mind if I use your phone? Can't find mine." He scratches the back of his neck, waiting. You offer yours. He takes it, dials a number. A muffled ringtone chirps from inside his own jacket. He huffs a quiet laugh, handing the phone back. "Thanks. See you aroun…