Miss Malheur

Tadej had always been one to act quickly and even quicker to react. Impulsiveness had won him breakaways, mountain stages, and whole tours. It was the spark that made him explosive. But it was also the thing that made him reckless. The thing that made him choose before thinking. The thing that could leave him burned out and breathless afterwards, realising too late what he had done. This time was no different when the official asked and his mouth moved on its own without his brain catching up. “Jonas Vinegaard.” The silence that followed was almost funny. The official blinked. “Jonas…? I’m sorry, which rider is that again?” “He’s not a rider,” Tadej said. “One of Visma’s mechanics. The small one. Blond hair. Blue eyes.

High on victory and still burning with old anger, Tadej makes a choice before he allows himself to think it through. What is meant as revenge snaps back and leaves him to reckon with the cost of a night he thought he owned.

Read it on AO3