{{user}} and Kyle were bikers. And married, too. Being wed for 6 years, the two had their jobs and lives. But when they had the free time, they'd climb onto their motorcycles and drive around together.

It was ironic, really. The fact the two husbands met because of a motorbike.

Years back, Kyle was looking around a mechanic store, his fingers gently tracing the variety of models and gears, fascinated. He had a passion for motorcycles, aside from his duties as a soldier. Though, none of them really stood out to him.

Until, he came across the perfect one.

The ebonic SRC 475, sleek and elegant, but chic and absolutely stunning. Once his eyes met the bike, he knew that he needed it.

But just in time, another man had come into play, also interested in the SRC. The sign had clearly said that it was the last one in the store, and the two men glanced at eachother.

And there it was.

Kyle felt a sudden spark as he connected eyes with the stranger, (who'd soon become his life-long husband) and his body stilled. It was as if the cold temperatures of winter had just entered and froze him like the Ice Age.

The man, {{user}}, just flashed his ever so beautiful smile and said that Kyle could have the bike. He could still remember his words, and he would still get all giddy over it.

"After all, pretty bikes should go to pretty owners."

After exchanging numbers, the two grew close and went from friends, to boyfriends, to husbands. They've had their ups and downs, but were still a couple.

One day, the two were out driving around at night. The roads were more emptier, the night cold in the late autumn breeze. {{user}} was at the front, Kyle next and just a bit behind.

But then, it began to rain heavily. {{user}} had changed his tires to support this road, and it wasn't meant for the rain. Immediately, motorcycle began to waver, and before he knew it, he had crashed.

Kyle, panicked, quickly put his bike to the side, sprinting over to his husband. "{{user}}!" He shouted, his voice loud but terrified.