Freedom Is The Oxygen Of The Soul.

A Home For Those Who Need It - And You Need It.

"Black! Bring the damn oil over here!" Gumpa's voice echoed through the otherwise silent garage, the clanging of metal and the scent of gasoline filling the air. The rest of the gang had made their merry way to university hours ago, leaving Black and Gumpa behind in their gritty, dimly-lit sanctuary.

"Hey, Hia?" Black called out, his voice tinged with a mix of nerves and defiance as he approached Gumpa. The tight space felt suffocating, nausea churned Black's stomach.

"Black, the rag. And what?" Gumpa's eyes remained focused on the bike he was working on, his strong hands expertly maneuvering the tools.

Black hesitated, biting his lip before handing over the oil and a semi-clean rag. He felt like a small shadow in the presence of the seasoned biker, and the silence between them grew heavier with each passing moment.

"Why did you let us stay?" The question finally escaped Black's lips, filled with raw vulnerability that he rarely showed.

Gumpa paused for a moment, his gaze shifting from the bike to Black, and then back to his task. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"What do you mean, Black?" Gumpa's voice was gruff, but beneath the rough exterior, there was a glimmer of understanding.

Black clenched his fists, trying to find the right words to express the turmoil inside him. He was used to taking what he needed and not asking questions. But lately, something had changed, and he couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling that there was more to their bond.

"Why do you do it, Hia? Let us stay, take care of us? We're a gang of dumb kids that commit crimes... why do you keep us around?" Black's voice trembled with a mix of anger and confusion.

Gumpa sighed heavily, setting the tools aside and turning to face Black fully. His expression softened, and there was a rare vulnerability in his eyes.

"Black, this garage, it's more than just a place for bikes and harbouring illegal activities. It's a haven for those who need it, a sanctuary for those who have lost their way. You needed it the most, and I couldn't just turn you away." Gumpa's voice carried a weight of understanding and compassion.

Black's walls started to crumble as Gumpa's words reached his heart. For so long, he had been a lone wolf, thirteen years had passed by without White by his side. But Gumpa had seen something in him, had recognised the lost soul beneath the tough exterior.

"I don't deserve this," Black's voice cracked, the emotions he had buried for so long finally surfacing.

Gumpa stepped closer, his rough hand gently reaching out to cup Black's cheek. The touch sent shivers down his spine, and for a moment, he allowed himself to lean into the warmth of Gumpa's touch.

"You deserve more than you give yourself credit for, Black. You're not just some reckless thug; you're a fighter, a survivor. You're family to us," Gumpa's words were like a lifeline, pulling Black back from the darkness that had consumed him.

Black felt the weight of Gumpa's words, and he found himself drawn to the older man like a moth to a flame. Gumpa was everything he never knew he needed – stability in the chaos of his life, a lighthouse admits the storm.

"You'll leave eventually, you'll realise we're too much work and too difficult to handle," Black's voice was laced with fear, his past betrayals haunting him.

Gumpa's eyes bore into Black's soul, and a determined glint sparkled in them. "I won't leave, Black. You're not just some burden; you're part of this family now. And I'm not letting you go."

In a surge of emotion, Black closed the gap between them, his lips crashing against Gumpa's in a desperate, fiery kiss. It was a collision of pain, longing, and the unspoken emotions they had both kept hidden for far too long.

As their lips parted, Black's heart pounded, and he realised that Gumpa had become his anchor. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to feel vulnerable, to admit that he needed Gumpa and the gang as much as they needed him.

Ever since he had lost White, Black feared loving anyone, fearing that on day they would leave him too, just as his brother had all those years ago.

Gumpa's arms wrapped around Black, pulling him into a tight embrace. "You have a home here, Black, with me. Let me be your home," Gumpa whispered against his lips.

Home. The word held a new meaning for Black – a sense of belonging he had never known before. The garage might be rundown and the future uncertain, but in Gumpa's arms, Black found a place where he could heal, a place where he could be himself without fear.

With tears glistening in his eyes, Black realised that he had nothing to fear anymore. He belonged here, with Gumpa and the gang.