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The entrance to Taeil’s garage was hidden in a Shinjuku back alley, the rusty gate working wonders to divert attention from what was going on behind the meshed wire. Taeyong braked as he passed through the gate, letting his yellow Suzuki roll onto the lot.
Because there were only a handful of cars lined up waiting for inspection, he had no qualms parking right in front of the open garage doors. He pulled off his helmet and hung it onto a handlebar before he dismounted his motorcycle.
American rock music greeted him as he walked into the garage, blasting from the construction radio mounted to the wall. Under it, he found a very sweaty Johnny leaned over the motor of a neon green Mazda. Taeyong called out to him and received a broad grin in return, along with a wave from grease-stained fingers.
Taeyong turned towards the left, away from the cars and towards the reception where Ten sat, his lips pursed around the straw of his slushie cup, his eyes fixed on where Johnny had now taken to wiping his face with the hem of his shirt, exposing a sliver of abs.
Taeyong twirled his keys around his fingers. “You know, I’m sure Johnny would have no problem introducing you more intimately to his American muscle if you asked.”
Ten scowled at him, dropping the feet he had had propped up on the counter while Taeyong stole a sucker from the jar.
“Say that a little louder and I might take my keys to your yellow lady.”
Taeyong bared his teeth as he ripped the foil of the sucker. “I’d like to see you try. Johnny might have only cried when you did that to his truck, but I’m not above taking one of those wrenches to your fingers in exchange.”
Ten grinned, offering him a sip from his soda which Taeyong declined. “I see you’re in a good mood. Good morning at the store?”
Taeyong sighed, walking around the counter so he could fall into the empty office chair by Ten’s side. “I was almost late opening up, because I slept through my alarm after I got back home so late.”
Ten frowned. “Were you racing last night?”
Taeyong shook his head. “I worked the graveyard shift too because our part-timer called in sick and old man Lee is still refusing to hire more people.”
“You should’ve told him to fuck off.” Ten picked his slushie cup back up. “You’re too nice, Yong.”
Taeyong shrugged. “Where are the kids?”
“Back room.” Ten gestured at the door with the employees only sign, made from an old license plate. “They got here maybe half an hour before you.”
Taeyong nodded, stretching his back after he got up. Ten pulled the hem of his hoodie down for him and Taeyong grinned. “What, is my exposed stomach not as appealing to you as Johnny’s?”
“Stop bringing up my ex like that!” Ten called after him.
Taeyong only laughed as he made his way to the back room.
The door was ajar, the familiar sound of Donghyuck and Yangyang squabbling making him smile.
Sungchan was sitting at the table near the small kitchenette, poring over some books, though Taeyong could see him sneak longing glances towards the sofa in the corner where Yangyang and Donghyuck were sitting, flailing as they each tried to overtake each other in the racing game on the TV.
Taeyong walked over to his youngest brother first, stroking Sungchan’s hair as he sat down next to him.
Sungchan smiled up at him, a smudge of ink on his cheek.
“Making good progress?” Taeyong asked, nodding at the homework on the table.
“Yes! I’m nearly finished with Geography, then I only need to work on my History assignment and I’m done.” Sungchan bit the cap of his pen as he studied the book in front of him.
Taeyong decided to leave him to it.
He made to get up, but then Sungchan was calling him back. “Yong?”
“Yes?” He sat back down when he saw the look on Sungchan’s face. He could tell by the way Sungchan was biting the inside of his cheek and avoiding his eyes that he felt nervous.
“What’s wrong?” Taeyong asked more quietly, discreetly so that Donghyuck and Yangyang wouldn’t hear in case Sungchan didn’t want that.
Sungchan shook his head. “It’s nothing bad, just…” His fingers fiddled with the edge of his school binder before he turned the pages to the very last one, opening the rings to get the paper out. “We got the permission slip for our senior trip today. I wanted to ask whether I could go.”
Taeyong frowned as he took the paper. “Of course, you can go.”
Sungchan bit his lip. “But it’s expensive.”
Taeyong furrowed his brows, scanning the paper. The number printed at the bottom made his breath catch in his throat. That was more than he made in a month working at the convenience store.
“It’s so expensive because it’s a private ski resort,” Sungchan tried to explain.
Taeyong wanted to snort. Of course, private school students wouldn’t stay at a public resort. Not the kind of students that went to the school he was sending Sungchan to anyways.
He squared his shoulders, meeting Sungchan’s eyes so he could be sure his little brother heard him when he said, “Don’t worry about it.”
Sungchan’s eyes widened. “But—”
“Don’t worry about it, Sungchannie,” Taeyong repeated more firmly. “We have the money. It’s not a problem.”
Sungchan looked like he might argue more, but then Donghyuck appeared behind them. “If Taeyong said it’s fine, it’s fine.” He tugged on the tie of Sungchan’s school uniform. “You worry too much, baby bro.”
Donghyuck snatched the paper from Taeyong’s hands, whistling when he saw the number at the bottom. “Half a million yen for a school trip? They better have a whirlpool at that place.” His expression turned more serious when he turned towards Taeyong. “Do we have the money?”
Taeyong nodded. It was nearly double his salary at the convenience store, but that was only his day job. “We do. I can get it out of storage.”
“You know if we didn’t,” an excited glint appeared in Donghyuck’s eyes, “I could race for it.”
Taeyong snatched the paper out of his hands. “Absolutely not.” He glared first at Donghyuck and then at Yangyang, who was still sitting on the sofa with his phone in hand, trying very hard to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping. “We have a deal. You get to have a car, but you don’t race it.”
Donghyuck pushed out his bottom lip. “It’s just not fair.”
“Well, life isn’t fair sometimes.” Taeyong took a pen out of Sungchan’s pencil case and signed the permission slip. He put the paper back into the binder, graciously ignoring Sungchan’s wobbling bottom lip, before he got up.
“Have you done your homework yet?” he asked Donghyuck, who promptly turned red and hurried back to the sofa.
Taeyong might have gone after him, but he knew that Donghyuck would finish it all in a 4 a.m. binge session, knock out for the following day and then come back to Taeyong with perfect grades. That was how he worked and Taeyong respected it.
“You wanna join us for some Need for Speed?” Yangyang asked, waving the controller in his hand.
Taeyong might have considered it, but then he heard Ten call out his name from the front and he declined loop. He was already at the door when the roaring of several engines echoed through the garage. Taeyong frowned as he slipped out of the back room and joined Ten by the front counter. No customer in their right mind would make that much noise in the middle of the day.
He felt his stomach sink when he caught sight of the three black Skylines rolling onto the lot.
“What are they doing here?” he asked Ten, who was texting Taeil sitting in his office above them. “Don’t they have their own garage in Kōtō?”
“I don’t know.” Ten narrowed his eyes. “But I don’t like it.”
They watched as the Skylines parked in a row in front of the garage doors, their engines cutting off at once. The tinted windows prohibited Taeyong from seeing who was inside, but he didn’t have to guess for long.
He only knew four out of the six men, but that was more than enough to make his hackles rise. The two he didn’t know stayed by the cars to smoke, but Taeyong knew nothing about their relaxed posture was real.
Nonetheless, he was more preoccupied with the four men that entered the garage.
“Woah?” Donghyuck’s awed voice sounded behind him. “Who’s that?”
Taeyong felt his heart skip a beat and where he had felt tense before, he felt panic crawl up his throat. He spun around. “No one!”
“You’re lying.” Donghyuck frowned, holding against him when Taeyong tried to push him back into the back room. “What’s going on?”
“Lee Donghyuck!”
Taeyong figured that it was the unusually sharp tone of Ten’s voice more than his words that made Donghyuck finally relent enough that Taeyong could push him out of sight. “You should listen to your brother.”
Donghyuck whined, looking between them both. “You’re acting weird!”
There was no joy to Ten’s grin. “I’ll give you a hint, kid. The name of those men is a three syllable word and ‘nice’ is not a part of it. Yangyang!” he called and Yangyang popped up next to Donghyuck. The grin slid right off the kid’s face when he saw Ten’s grim expression. “You lock the door and you don’t open it until we come and get you.”
Yangyang’s eyes grew round as hubcaps, but he nodded. Ten shut the door in his face and Taeyong breathed a little easier. Exchanging a glance with Ten, they turned around.
One of the men had broken off to approach Johnny, who was cleaning his fingers with a rag. Taeyong recognised Mark by his boyish features, sharper now that he had grown into his limbs. He had been a scrappy seventeen year-old when Taeyong had first met him, but that had been five years ago.
Mark reached out a tattooed hand to greet Johnny. They exchanged quick words and then Mark was walking back to his group.
“Doyoung’s with them,” Ten commented quietly, his eyes glued to the slender man standing at the back of the group. The expensive suit Doyoung was wearing made him look comically pristine in comparison to his surroundings. “I guess that means that they’re not here for an upgrade to their NOS system.”
Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek. “What would they need a lawyer for?”
Doyoung looked bored standing there with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a slim briefcase, but that, too, could be a front. Jaehyun next to him looked about as friendly as the demon tattoo covering his neck, his eyes ever-roaming their surroundings while he kept a hand on the small of Doyoung’s back.
There was the sound of a door opening above them then, and Taeyong could hear Taeil descend the metal stairs that lead to his office.
“Fuck this shit,” Ten cursed under his breath and moved just as Johnny did, the both of them joining Taeil on his way to meet their visitors.
Taeyong echoed his friend’s words in his mind before he joined them. It made his skin crawl, putting himself in the spotlight like this, but his need to be there for his friends and, if he was honest with himself, also his curiosity overrode any fear he might have felt. On top of that, he felt a slight pang of satisfaction seeing their numbers evened out. If nothing, Johnny’s wardrobe-like stature made him feel a little better.
American muscle, he recalled his earlier joke and he might have let a smile slip if he hadn’t felt eyes on him, watching him. They didn’t stay on him for long, but Taeyong felt himself burn all the same.
“Welcome,” Taeil took a step forward. Taeyong withstood the urge to pull him back by the belt of his leather jacket.
“Taeil.” Yuta finally stepped forward, past his enforcers and his lawyer and Taeyong hated the way Yuta’s smile snagged his attention so easily. “How have you been, old friend?”
“Good.” Taeil’s voice was just as polite as Yuta’s had been. “I see you’ve brought some of your...friends. How can I help you?”
Yuta turned around, as if he had forgotten that he had brought his cronies with him. The outgrown strands of his silvery white hair were not long enough to cover the ink on the back of his neck. He laughed when he turned towards Taeil.
“Oh, don’t mind them. I came here to talk to you, actually.” He gave the garage a brief glance. “Do you mind if we talk in your office?”
There was a moment of tense silence. Taeyong could see Ten twitch out of the corner of his eye, but he was kept in place by Johnny’s arm coming down around his shoulders.
Taeil nodded, his smile polite as ever as he gestured for Yuta to lead the way up the metal stairs.
Yuta’s smile broadened into a grin. His smooth gait reminded Taeyong of a cat’s as he moved. He looked about as pleased as the cat that got the canary, too. Taeyong’s eyebrows furrowed. Taeil was not a canary. Yuta wouldn’t dare.
With narrowed eyes, he watched as Doyoung and Jaehyun followed their boss up the stairs, Mark remaining behind. Taeil touched Ten’s shoulder before he went after them.
In a split second decision, Taeyong joined him.
“Yong,” Taeil breathed, too quietly for anyone else to hear. A warning.
Taeyong only smiled at him, placing his hand on Taeil’s back as they ascended the stairs together. He didn’t want Taeil to forget that Taeyong had his back.
If it hadn’t been for Taeil, Taeyong wouldn’t have made it five years ago, finding himself parentless in the middle of Tokyo with two kid brothers depending on him to put food on the table and less than 500,000 Korean won to his name. Taeil had taken him in, had given him his first bike and an idea of how to use it and Taeyong would ride or die for him.
He doubted that it would come to the latter, but he also knew that Jaehyun was packing heat under his jacket. The enforcer didn’t look amused as Taeyong slipped into Taeil’s office after him, but then Jaehyun never did. Taeyong had seen him win races without so much as a single twitch of the lip.
Yuta was already sprawled out in the chair in front of Taeil’s desk, playing with the ring on his thumb as he took in the details of the room. In stark contrast, Doyoung next to him looked like the mess of papers on Taeil’s desk was giving him second-hand anxiety. Taeyong maybe would have laughed if the air in the office hadn’t been so thick.
He kept quiet as he leaned with his back against the wall behind Taeil’s chair. Taeil scooted the office chair forward until he could place his elbows on the table top. “How can I help you, Yuta?”
Yuta hummed. “I wasn’t kidding out there. We’ve been friends for quite some time, haven’t we, Taeil?”
“Sure.”
Yuta beamed at Taeil’s admission before his smile fell. “Then, you might have heard about it already, but I was inconvenienced earlier this week. There was an accident at my garage in Kōtō.”
“I hadn’t heard about it.”
“It burned down.” Yuta shrugged. “A problem with the electric wiring. There was no saving the building.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me too,” Yuta sounded about as unimpressed as Jaehyun looked, standing by the door with his feet a shoulder-width apart. “It was unfortunate, but I’m an optimist.” The smile returned to Yuta’s features. “I like to look forward, which in this case also means I’m looking for a new garage. Of course, I thought of you.”
Taeil’s inhale was audible, but Yuta gave him no chance to speak.
“Your reputation in the scene is impeccable. I’d like to join our ventures. Doyoung’s already drawn up a proposal that you can look over.”
That prompted Doyoung to open his briefcase. Taeyong felt his lungs seize with dread at the first flash of thick, white paper.
“No.” He didn’t realise until every single pair of eyes in the room fell on him that he had said it out loud. His heart thundered in his chest, but he figured that now that he had said it, he might as well stand by it.
“No,” he repeated more firmly and for the first time since the Skylines had pulled onto the lot, he dared to meet Yuta’s eyes directly. “We’re rejecting your offer.”
“You’re rejecting me?” One of Yuta’s slitted eyebrows flicked upward. “I’m heartbroken, Taeyong.”
Taeyong was still reeling about the way his name sounded from Yuta’s lips when Yuta averted his eyes, looking at Taeil instead. “Is he right, Taeil? Do you not want to be business partners?”
Taeyong couldn’t see Taeil’s face, but he could see the tense set of Taeil’s shoulders when Taeil said, “Yuta…”
“No, speak your mind, Taeil. Tell me outright.” Yuta’s voice was friendly, but there was no real friendliness to the quirk of his mouth.
Yuta didn’t really care, Taeyong realised, what Taeil had to say, because when it came down to it, Taeil didn’t get a say. This was nothing but a formal visit, an act to keep up the pretense of manners. A play that Taeyong was sure Yuta and his men had performed many times before.
Taeyong’s home, nothing but a bullet point on Yuta’s afternoon agenda.
He felt anger bubble up in his chest, anger and desperation. “I’ll race you for it.”
His voice was too loud, but he didn’t take it back.
Yuta’s expression changed. “Oh?”
Taeyong curled his hands into fists by his side. “I mean it.”
“Do you now?”
“Yuta.” Doyoung furrowed his brows, but Yuta lifted a hand.
His motor boots hit the ground with a thud as he sat properly in his chair, looking like a giddy child as he leaned forward. “No, let Taeyong speak. It seems that he has a proposition to make.”
Taeyong knew that this was the moment when he should have shut up. He should have shut his mouth and let Taeil handle this, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop talking.
Ride or die, he had promised Taeil. He would ride, if they let him.
“I do.” Taeyong’s heart thundered in his chest. “I’ll race you for the garage. If I win, you have to retract your offer. There are a dozen other underground garages in Tokyo that you could take over. You’ll pick one of them and leave us alone.”
Yuta’s gaze was intense. “Okay.” He licked his lips. “Given that I accept, and if I win? What’s in it for me?”
Taeyong shrugged. “Anything you want.”
More than anything else, it was the way Jaehyun by the door huffed that made Taeyong realise he had made a mistake just then. Jaehyun looked at Taeyong as if he couldn’t believe that one person could be so stupid. Taeyong quickly averted his eyes, back to the problem at hand.
Where Yuta’s eyes had been filled with amusement, there was real interest now. “Anything I want?”
Taeyong shrugged and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He should have chosen his words better, but it was too late now.
“Yuta,” Doyoung tried again, but his tone was long-suffering, as if he had already accepted his fate.
Yuta ignored him, his eyes never leaving Taeyong’s. “Okay.” He nodded, his tongue swiped over his bottom lip once more. “We can race. And if you win, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
Taeyong wanted to sag with relief.
“But if I win, you’re mine.”
Taeyong’s heart dropped to his knees. “What?”
Yuta grinned as he kicked back in his chair. “You leave Taeil’s garage and come to me. Ride for me.” Taeyong’s heart stuttered as he realised what Yuta was talking about. “I’ve got drivers in all the four-wheel races—shit, I am the four wheel races—but I’ve got no one on two wheels. Just like Taeil, your reputation precedes you. If I win, you’ll sign an exclusive contract to race for me.”
Taeyong took the duration of a breath to think about what it would mean to agree to that. He’d have to hand over a major percentage of his winnings. He’d have to be at Yuta’s beck and call. He’d be racing for the fucking mob.
But what was the alternative?
He looked at Taeil, who was all but screaming at him with his eyes to back down. Taeyong smiled.
He was still smiling when he met Yuta’s eyes and slowly extended his hand. “You can pick the track, but I’m not racing cars. We ride motorcycles. Deal?”
Yuta’s grin revealed pearly white teeth as he took Taeyong’s hand. “Deal, Taeyong.”
They shook on it. Yuta’s palm was warm against his and then he got up, quicker than Taeyong had expected him to move. Doyoung was a lot slower to rise, the shocked expression on his face making him look a little bit like a deer in the headlights.
“Next Tuesday, I’ll see you at Daikoku.” Yuta smiled, nodding at both Taeyong and Taeil before he skipped towards the door. Jaehyun moved into the room as his boss left, gently ushering Doyoung out without sparing any of them another glance.
Taeyong felt his knees wobble the moment they had left the office, his heart rabbiting in his chest. He fell back against the wall, feeling like his soul might leave his body until Taeil took his hand.
“Taeyong.”
“Mhm?” Even without looking, he could see the expression on Taeil’s face. He forced a smile onto his face. “Don’t look at me like that, Taeil. I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” Taeyong didn’t take the doubt in Taeil’s voice personally. He knew it came from a place of worry, not anger. “You remember that he’s the DK, right?”
Taeyong shrugged. “He may be, but we’re not drifting. We’re drag-racing our bikes, and I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him on a motorcycle.”
Taeil didn’t look consoled. “He wouldn’t have agreed to the deal if he hadn’t been sure that he would win.”
“Well, he won’t.” Taeyong set his jaw. “I’m going to beat him.”
“I hope you do.” Their eyes both fell on the contract Doyoung had left, lying on the table like a warning. “I really hope you do.”
*
Taeyong lived for Tuesday nights.
He had raced in the mountains and in downtown parking garages, but nothing quite beat the sight of the sea of supercars that greeted him when he steered his Suzuki onto the asphalt of the Daikoku parking area.
Daikoku was most packed on the weekends, when tourists and teenagers joined the fray of street racers, so wide-eyed and eager to catch a glimpse of the world they were outsiders to. Taeyong wasn’t a fan of the crowd. He liked the quieter weeknights and among those, Tuesdays were his favourite.
Tuesday nights were when the real races were held, the ones where stacks were bet and real money changed hands. For the first time in a long time, Taeyong wasn’t thinking of money as he navigated his bike towards the centre of the parking area.
His group usually stuck to the outskirts of the lot, not engaging with anyone that didn’t approach them first. Tonight, things were a bit different. Taeyong didn’t mind. If Yuta wanted a show, he could get one.
It wasn’t hard to find him.
From the looks of it, Yuta had already been waiting for him, sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette pinched between two fingers while his usual posse surrounded him.
Taeyong came to a stop right in front of him, setting one foot down so he wouldn’t lose balance as he turned his head. Mark had popped the trunk of his Skyline and even while still on his bike, Taeyong could feel the ground shake with the heavy bass of the sound system.
The visor of Taeyong’s helmet was tinted, but even so Yuta found his eyes, the corners of his mouth quirking up. He flicked the butt of his cigarette to the side and hopped off the hood, passing by his friends to approach Taeyong with elegant strides.
Taeyong was well aware of the eyes that rested on them. He flicked his visor up, giving Yuta the chance to truly meet his gaze.
In the floodlights, Yuta’s eyes seemed luminous.
“Taeyong.” His smile deepened. “You came.”
“Of course.” Taeyong set down his other foot. “I’ve never forfeited a race.”
“No, you haven’t.” The glint in Yuta’s eyes almost looked like pride. His brows furrowed as he looked behind Taeyong. “Did you come alone?”
Taeyong shook his head. He pointed to where Johnny’s truck was idling at the entrance of the row. Yuta’s grin broadened.
“Tell your friends to come join us,” he said while waving at the truck. “We’ve kept them a couple of spots.”
Taeyong gritted his teeth. Even on a weeknight, Daikoku was packed. He didn’t want to know what Yuta had done to free this much space. Then, he figured, no parking spot in the world was worth pissing off the Yakuza.
He lifted his hand and only then did Johnny’s truck start moving again. When Yuta started walking, he kicked his bike into neutral and rolled next to him to the empty spots he had been promised. There were three of them, just enough to fit Johnny’s truck, Yangyang’s GTI and Donghyuck’s Supra.
Taeyong had tried to force his younger brother to stay home, but once Donghyuck had caught wind of what was going to happen, there had been no getting him to stay at home. Eventually, Taeyong had relented as long as Donghyuck promised to stay in his car.
Taeyong thought that there was no space left for his bike, but then Yuta showed him to another spot that already held a bike. Taeyong was glad that his helmet hid his expression as he took in the machine.
The Yamaha was black like Yuta’s Skyline, but like everything else that concerned the other man, Taeyong knew that it’s understated appearance was an illusion. The machine was beautiful, sleek and polished to perfection and Taeyong could only imagine what kind of modifications had been made to the bike with the endless funds backing his opponent.
“Do you like it?” Yuta asked from behind him, walking forward so he could place one hand on the seat.
Taeyong took off his helmet, shook out his hair before he answered, “Does it matter if I like it?”
“No.” Yuta grinned. “But when you lose, you can blame it on my machine being faster.”
“A faster machine won’t help you if you lack skill.”
“You have so little faith in me, Taeyong.”
Taeyong shrugged, allowing a small smile to slip, “Maybe I’m just confident.”
“Good.” Yuta looked entirely earnest as he said, “You should be.”
Taeyong didn’t know what to say to that, so he focussed on dismounting his bike without stumbling. He didn’t know why he felt weak on his knees all of a sudden, but he needed his limbs to regain function sooner rather than later.
The rabbiting of his heart eased a bit when he saw Johnny, Ten and Taeil stroll towards them. It seemed that Donghyuck had stuck to his promise of staying in his car, Yangyang staying back with him like the good friend he was.
The greeting between Taeil and Yuta was just as polite as it had been at the garage. Ten looked like he might have some stronger words for Yuta, but then Johnny was already pulling him away to check out the open hood of a nearby Mitsubishi.
Yuta looked nothing but amused as he led them over to his Skyline. Taeyong felt a little bit lighter when he saw Kun waiting next to Yuta’s car.
Kun smiled at him, waving the tablet in his hand. It undoubtedly held the information about all of tonight’s races, their odds and the bets that had been placed upon them. Kun was Daikoku’s unofficial bookie.
He was also neutral ground. Even someone like Yuta wouldn’t disrespect the outcome of the race if it was organised by Kun. Not if he ever wanted to race in Tokyo again.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
Taeyong couldn’t help but smile. With his sweater vest and silver-rimmed glasses, Kun looked like he belonged in a library, not in Tokyo’s street racing scene.
“It’s a good evening indeed.”
Taeyong rolled his eyes at Yuta’s smug tone.
Kun smiled at Yuta just the same as he had at Taeyong before he laid down his tablet on the hood of the Skyline. “I’ve arranged everything to your specifications. The route I marked is the most sensible one, however, you are of course free to choose your own path. It only matters who gets to the location first.”
Taeyong squinted at the map. His eyebrows rose when he saw where the blue navigation line led. “Chūō?” He placed two fingers on the screen to zoom in, right into the heart of Tokyo. “Ginza Sanrioworld?” He looked at Yuta. “Are you serious? What, do you want to buy some new Hello Kitty slippers while we’re at it?”
“I am actually on the market for some new sheets, thank you for asking.” Yuta grinned and Taeyong wondered how much trouble he would get in if he punched Yuta in the face. Just once.
“Yuta told me that he gets to pick the route?” Kun searched Taeyong’s eyes, a furrow between his brows.
Taeyong relented with a sigh. “He does. It just seems ridiculous to me. A race to Tokyo’s biggest Hello Kitty store?”
“Don’t mock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” Yuta said.
Taeyong relented with a sigh. It was smarter to give in before he got a stress headache.
He felt his blood cool when Kun went over their wagers. He was well aware of the stakes, but it was different having Kun read them out loud to him. Taeil next to him was quiet. When Taeyong caught his eye, Taeil smiled at him. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Taeyong gritted his teeth. He would win.
“You’ll race at eleven p.m.,” Kun told them. “We’ll meet at the starting line fifteen minutes before. Don’t be late.” He handed them two identical keychains, a plastic button dangling from the ring. “Put these GPS trackers in your jackets, so we can track you in case things go awry.”
“I presume it’s also useful for the livestream?” Yuta asked.
A dimple appeared in Kun’s left cheek. “There’s certainly interest in your race. The DK challenging our champion on two wheels? It’s a big pot. Are any of you keen to join?”
Taeyong hastily shook his head. He’d rather not know the odds. He was relieved when Yuta also shook his head and Kun locked his tablet. “All right, then. I’ll see you at a quarter to eleven.”
With that, Kun disappeared into the throng of people surrounding them and Taeyong felt something inside him settle. The race was on Kun’s books. His fate was sealed now, no matter the outcome.
For some reason, he felt the need to look at Yuta, if only to see whether there was any nervousness visible on his opponent’s face.
To his surprise, Yuta was already watching him. The smile that took over his features looked neither teasing nor threatening. It looked earnest.
Taeyong blinked and averted his eyes. He pushed a hand against his chest to control the thundering of his heart.
“Let’s go,” he told Taeil.
He didn’t allow himself another glance as they left.
While Taeil relayed the gist of their meeting to the rest of their family, Taeyong hopped up onto the bed of Johnny’s truck and laid down. Because of the floodlights, there was no chance to see the stars, but Taeyong didn’t mind. He could imagine.
He smiled when the bed dipped under the weight of another body climbing on. There was a small huff, followed by a low curse and then Donghyuck was flopping down next to him.
“Hi.”
“Hi, baby.” Taeyong smiled when Donghyuck grabbed onto his hand.
They lied in silence for a bit before Donghyuck broke it, “Are you nervous?”
Without taking his eyes off the sky, Taeyong smiled. “No.”
And truly, he wasn’t. He was well aware of his capabilities. He knew that he could beat Yuta.
“Yong?”
Taeyong turned his head then, to find the face of his normally so carefree brother etched with worry. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
Taeyong smiled. “I’m always careful.” He smoothed out the furrow between Donghyuck’s brows with his thumb. “Don’t worry about me, Duckie.”
Donghyuck whined at the use of his childhood nickname and Taeyong laughed as his brother rolled right off the truck bed in his haste to escape Taeyong’s ever-loving arms. Sometimes, Taeyong missed it when his brothers had been so little that they had been eager to be showered with hugs and kisses.
Donghyuck caught himself on the latch of the truck and brushed off his clothes before he met Taeyong’s eyes. “I’ll go see what Yangyang is up to. Jeno and Jaemin are supposed to be here tonight too.”
Taeyong waved him away. “That’s fine. Go play with your friends, but remember—”
“—no racing! I got it, big bro.” Donghyuck shot him a toothy grin before he swaggered away, Yangyang joining him as they passed by where Yangyang was standing with Ten and Johnny.
Yangyang looked quite glad to have an excuse to leave Ten and Johnny to themselves, neither of the ex-boyfriends even acknowledging his exit. They were too busy bickering.
Taeyong watched them, highly entertained, until Taeil hopped up on the truck bed next to him. In his hand, he held two bottles of cherry soda.
Taeyong smiled as he took one, clinking their plastic bottles together before he took a swig.
“How are you feeling?”
Taeyong took another sip before he answered, “Donghyuck asked me the same. I’m fine.”
“Yong…”
“I’m fine, Taeil.” He met Taeil’s worried eyes with an optimistic grin.
“If you lose—”
“I’m not going to lose.”
“I know.” Taeil allowed himself a smile. “But on the off-chance that you do, we’ll think of something, okay? You don’t have to race for him.”
“You’re my family, Taeil.” Taeyong gestured his bottle to where Ten and Johnny had taken to giggling at something on Johnny’s phone, leaned against the side of Yangyang’s GTI. “You all are. And the garage is ours. Even someone like Nakamoto Yuta doesn’t get to stroll in, throw his money around and just claim it. It’s ours,” he repeated.
Taeil nodded then, allowing Taeyong to lay his head on his friend’s shoulder until Donghyuck and Yangyang returned to them about an hour later, the rest of their friends in tow.
“It’s half past ten, we’re going to drive into the city now to be there at the Sanrio.”
Taeyong nodded.
There were no more well-wishes exchanged except for a hug from each of the kids. Donghyuck had said what he had needed to say earlier and now it was all up to Taeyong to make good on his word.
He felt a little wistful and a lot proud as he watched Donghyuck corral his friends into his Supra, Yangyang doing the same standing next to his GTI. Those of Donghyuck’s friends that didn't fit into the cars hopped up on the bed of Johnny’s truck once Taeyong and Taeil had cleared the space. Taeyong wheezed when Ten tried to press a wet kiss against his cheek before climbing up into the passenger seat.
Taeyong had little time to catch his breath before Johnny caught him in a bear-hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he set him back down. “Do good, TY.”
“Always do.”
Johnny grinned at him before he turned towards Taeil. “You coming with us?”
Taeil shook his head. “I’ll bring him to the starting line.”
Johnny nodded and left for the driver side of his truck. Taeyong watched as his family rolled off the lot, Yangyang revving his engine for show. He could practically hear the kid’s maniacal laughter and Taeyong allowed the prickly feeling in his blood to take the root in his stomach. He had long learned to use nervousness to his advantage.
Feeling a shiver race up his spine, he turned towards Taeil. “We should head over. I have a race to win.”
*
The starting line was swarmed with people, to the point where a couple of Kun’s boys had to clear a way for him as he tried to steer his Suzuki to the red line without rolling over someone’s foot.
Yuta was already there, warming his engine with both feet on the ground. His silver hair reflected in the floodlights as he turned his head to smile at Taeyong.
Taeyong was glad he had had the foresight to put on his helmet already. With that many phones recording this moment, he had no interest seeing his blushing face turned into a gif.
Taeil stayed with him until the five minute warning, helping him go over the parts of his bike one last time to make sure everything was in order. When, at last, Taeil stepped away and it was only him and Yuta and their idling bikes, Taeyong dared another look to the side.
Yuta struck an intriguing figure in all black, a stark contrast to Taeyong’s bright yellow bike and colourful racing suit. Even though Yuta was wearing his helmet now too, Taeyong could tell the other man was smiling at him.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Taeyong turned his head back to the front. Kun emerged from the crowd, his people working to push the rest of the crowd behind them. Taeyong flexed his fingers in his gloves before he curled the ones of his left hand around the clutch lever.
Kun slowly lifted his hand, the other holding his tablet as he formed a V with his fingers. He glanced towards his helpers, gathered the all-clear from them before he grinned, first at Taeyong and then at Yuta.
Taeyong’s heart skipped a beat when Kun folded down the first of his fingers. With practised ease, Taeyong engaged the Suzuki’s rear brake. Kun folded down his second finger and the V disappeared. Taeyong released the clutch lever while turning the throttle at the same time, his bike roaring as it was held in place only by his foot still on the brake.
Kun’s arm fell and Taeyong lifted his foot, his bike surging forward. He didn’t turn his head to see whether Yuta had taken off like him or stalled his bike on first try.
There was nothing but the pounding of his heart, the adrenaline spiking in his blood as he brought his bike up to high speed. He kicked up gear after gear until there was no more higher to go. Glancing down, he found the number on his speedometer approaching three digits and accelerated further.
Daikoku lay just outside of the city, the highway blessedly empty at this time of the night. He weaved past the few cars and lorries with ease, the street lights turning into a steady line in the corner of his eye as he got up to 150 km/h.
He didn’t stop there. He needed to get up to 180 km/h at least to evade the police.
It’s easy, Taeil had explained to him before his first race, if you go fishing for trouts, you certainly won’t try to pull out a shark if it swims by. A police cruiser doesn’t make it up to more than one-eighty. If you’re faster than their top speed, there’s no use in them chasing you.
Taeyong cast a glance into his rearview mirror. Indeed there was no one chasing him, no one except for a flash of headlights, steadily advancing. Yuta hadn’t stalled his bike, the dark shape of it becoming visible as Yuta advanced on him.
They pulled even when Taeyong had to swerve lanes to avoid a lorry that was changing lanes.
Anger rising in his chest, Taeyong accelerated further. He shouldn’t have allowed Yuta to gain so much on him in the first place. Yuta didn’t seem to care as he pulled in front of Taeyong, zig-zagging his bike to keep Taeyong behind.
Gritting his teeth, Taeyong waited for another gap in the left lane so he could break out from behind Yuta. He turned his throttle and felt the air punched out of his lungs as he surged forward, the first digit on his speedometer jumping from a 1 to a 2.
His surroundings blurred, blood rushing in his ears as every car in front of him became nothing more than an obstacle he had to swerve around, no time for deeper thought left as he shot down the highway. He didn’t give Yuta another chance to advance until they had made it to the city, the both of them inadvertently slowing down.
Taeyong had memorised the route to the finish line, but even so he kept an eye on the directions on his display as he raced his bike through the residential streets of Meguro, deserted at this time of night.
The higher the buildings around him became, the higher Taeyong’s blood pressure rose. He was navigating his Suzuki with single-minded focus. Yuta’s head light in his rearview mirror became smaller as Yuta fell behind. Taeyong smirked.
His smile fell when he shifted his focus back ahead. He cursed as he was met with orange flashing lights.
He engaged his rear brake, jerking his wrist to lock up his front wheels too. His arms screamed with the effort of keeping his bike straight. His legs shook with the effort of keeping his body from hurtling over the handlebars. But he managed to bring his wheels to a hard stop. It didn’t stop his bike from slithering onward as soon as his front wheel touched the gravel of the construction site.
Fighting for control over his machine, Taeyong jerked his handlebars around. He shifted his weight so his bike slid sideways, slowing the accelerated weight of the Suzuki down enough so it did little more than bump into the stack of plastic barrels he had been headed for. Taeyong was glad it wasn’t the pool-sized hole in the street he spotted a couple of metres further.
Buried halfway under his Suzuki, Taeyong cursed once more as he wriggled, dug his gloved hands into the gravel and pushed himself across the ground until he had freed himself.
The fabric of his pant leg that had met the ground looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to it, but there were no tears. Taeyong could feel a single, gigantic bruise forming at his side, but what his body would look like tomorrow was the least of his concerns right now.
He rolled onto his front and looked up to find himself blinded by light. It shut off when he raised a hand to protect his eyes.
Yuta had come to a stop in front of the barrier that Taeyong had slid right through, his black bike sitting idle as he held one of his arms outstretched. A silent offer for Taeyong to jump onto his back seat and get them out of here.
Somewhere in the distance, Taeyong could hear police sirens. Yuta must have heard them too, and must have been aware of what was at stake.
What was at stake.
Taeyong felt the anger and embarrassment in his veins turn cold. He pulled himself onto all fours. Then to his feet. Yuta walked his bike closer, his arm remaining outstretched, invitation still open.
Taeyong flipped him off and Yuta’s arm dropped.
Taeyong didn’t spare him another glance as he whirled around and hurried over to his bike. His arm muscles quivered with the effort but he managed to heave his Suzuki back upright, swinging his uninjured leg over the seat.
He prayed to every god he’d ever heard of as he curled his fingers around the clutch and flicked the switch. His prayers were answered when the engine sprung to life. He couldn’t help the laughter that escaped him. He still had a chance.
Pushing off the ground, he steered his bike off the construction site, coming head to head with Yuta’s bike. Fine drizzle was raining down on them, dancing in the connected beam of their head lights.
Taeyong wondered why Yuta hadn’t left yet, why he had stopped for Taeyong in the first place, but he didn’t have to wonder any further when Yuta walked his bike back one, two pushes of his feet and then he was driving off, his engine roaring as he disappeared in the street to their left.
With the police sirens becoming louder in the air, Taeyong lost no time taking off as well.
He could tell from the direction Yuta had taken that he was following their original route. The street he had disappeared down would lead him right into Shibuya and from then on he’d head to Ginza in a straight line.
Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek as he steered his bike to the right and steadily picked up speed. Re-routing through Minato meant choosing a longer route, but if he kept to the streets closest to the harbour, he could go faster than Yuta would probably be able to, having to navigate through Shibuya which was crowded even at night.
With his new plan settling in his mind, Taeyong accelerated, savouring the winds tugging on his clothes as he raced down the street. The harbour districts were drifting territory, not Taeyong’s home ground, but he would make it work. His heartbeat accelerated along with his bike as the bleak concrete of the industrial buildings started to change colours, a dozen billboards blinking down at him, greeting him as he entered Chūō. He was so close now.
The streets were empty but the lights were on as he raced through back alleys and side streets, careful not to run over any late night stragglers.
He wondered where Yuta was. Whether he was on course or had gotten lost or maybe was already there and Taeyong was racing in vain. But no. He didn’t believe that. Couldn’t.
The lines of his body drew taut as he turned a corner and found himself on the street that would lead him right to his destination. In the distance, he could see the building, its shiny facade reflecting a hundred neon lights of the billboards around.
Tokyo’s biggest Hello Kitty shop. Taeyong wanted to snort.
Kicking a gear higher, he shot down the street, slowing only until he could make out its doors, protected by shutter gates during the night. It was then that he heard the roar of an engine and on the other end of the street, the familiar outline of a black motorcycle appeared.
Oh, hell no.
Taeyong turned his throttle and surged forward. The doors of the department store were tightly shuttered, but the gate of the parking garage beside it wasn’t and in front of it, Taeyong could make out one of Kun’s boys. He recognised Dejun by his highlighter-yellow hair, following the waving line of his arm.
This time, the slide of his motorcycle was controlled as he took a sharp right. His back wheel passed a mere millimetre by Yuta’s front wheel as he turned into the parking garage.
The sound of Yuta’s bike behind him reverberated off the concrete surrounding them, echoed in Taeyong’s skull but he kept his gaze ahead, steered his bike up and up the spiralling ramp until he passed over the yellow line that marked the entrance to the highest level.
That marked the finish line.
It was muscle memory more than anything that allowed him to engage his brakes even with shaking limbs. His bike came to a halt. He dismounted onto unsteady feet, his heart pounding in his throat and blood rushing in his ears, but he could hear the roar of the crowd around him, the hands tugging on him as bodies swarmed his vision. The breath he took as soon as he had pulled off his helmet felt like the first breath he took since he had put it on.
Ten was there, hanging off his neck until he was pushed aside by Donghyuck and then he and Taeyong both were lifted into the air by Johnny. Ten pulled away to call Taeil and Taeyong couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he was congratulated from all sides.
He had won.
The thought made him turn around, to where he knew Yuta had been hot on his wheels.
Taeyong had expected to see Yuta lashing out at his men or throwing his helmet to the ground with petty rage like Taeyong had seen other racers do, but Yuta was doing no such thing. He was all but lounging on his bike, his movements as elegant as always as he dismounted.
Taeyong was not prepared for the grin on Yuta’s face when the other man pulled off his helmet.
The crowd parted for him as he walked over.
“Good race, Taeyong.”
Taeyong nodded, clenching his fingers in his gloves. “You remember our agreement?”
He glanced to where Doyoung was standing with Jaehyun and Mark, looking comically casual in his jeans and t-shirt. He had a tattoo too, Taeyong noticed, on his arm. A demon like the one on Jaehyun’s neck, only that his would remain hidden as long as he wore long sleeves.
Yuta followed his line of vision, his smile broadening. “Of course. We’re dropping our proposal. I’m a man of my word. You can keep your garage.”
Yuta held his gaze as he pulled off his glove, extending his hand.
Slowly, Taeyong did the same.
They shook hands. Taeyong blinked at the way the brush of Yuta’s fingers against his skin made his skin tingle.
“I’ll see you around, Taeyong,” Yuta’s smile stayed on his face as he let go, stepping away.
Taeyong watched him as he walked back to his people. They didn’t linger, the sleek purr of their engines somehow louder to Taeyong than all of the cheering and voices in the air, vying for his attention.
Taeyong shook himself out of it once the back lights of Jaehyun’s Skyline had disappeared around the first curl of the ramp.
He had won. He had won. He needed to celebrate with his family.
*
Taeyong was at the garage every day of the following week. None of them acknowledged it, but he could tell even Taeil was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Yuta and his men to show up and just demand what they wanted after all.
Taeyong thought it might happen when Mark showed up one day, asking for an oil change for his Skyline, but then he was gone as quickly as he had come, with his oil changed and his cheek bulging with the sucker Ten had pushed on him.
Taeyong wasn’t sure Mark looked at him even once.
After another week, Taeyong felt himself slowly ease up. Taeil stopped coming down from his office every five minutes to ask how things were. Donghyuck and Yangyang began nagging him again for a new video game console for the break room so they could play online with their friends. Sungchan showed him the winter coat he had found online that would keep him warm on his ski trip and Johnny and Ten were back to bickering as usual, with the exception that more often than not, Taeyong caught them arriving in the same car.
Things were good. Things were normal.
Taeyong told himself that he was glad about it.
He wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t see Yuta or any of his men at Daikoku for the rest of the month.
*
“Have a good night, Taeyong!”
Taeyong only waved as the part-timer took off his apron, the end-of-the-shift bounce in his step making him gather his things in no time. Taeyong wasn’t petty enough to be jealous.
He’d signed up for the graveyard shift of his own volition, eager to keep his mind occupied now that Sungchan was on his ski trip and he had no baby brother left to fuss over in the evenings when Donghyuck left to hang out with his friends.
As soon as he was alone in the convenience store, he got to restocking the shelves, helping the steady stream of lone office workers pick a flavour of ramen for their evening meal and when he ran out of things to do, he picked up a magazine from the stands and read through the gossip section.
He sent photos of the best parts to Ten, who responded at rapid-fire speed until he didn’t and Taeyong decided to lock his phone to save battery.
At midnight, he went through the shelves to pick out the freshly expired items in a basket and had a late dinner of convenience store sushi. He was just brewing himself a coffee with the shitty coffee machine in the back room when the bell above the door chimed.
He hurried back to the front, faltering in his step when he saw who had come in.
Yuta’s gaze was sweeping, searching, as he strolled into the store like he owned it. Taeyong wished his heart would have started racing at the sight.
He didn’t know the names of the two men who were with Yuta, but he recognised them from that day at the garage. They were the two who had stayed outside to smoke, covertly keeping an eye on the lot so no one could interrupt. They looked younger from up close than Taeyong had expected, the broader of them letting out an excited noise at the sight of the chips aisle.
It reminded Taeyong of where he was. That he was working. Wiping his hands on his apron, he stepped out of the back room and behind the front counter.
“Welcome!” he called out in his customer voice. He hoped that this was what they had come as. Just another group of late night customers.
Yuta’s eyes lit up when they found him. “Taeyong.”
Taeyong tried hard not to be overwhelmed by the intensity of Yuta’s stare, the earnestness of his smile.
“Yuta,” he acknowledged.
Yuta’s smile became impossibly brighter when he arrived at the front counter, his gloved hands curling around the edge. “You look good,” Yuta said as his eyes raked over Taeyong’s form.
Inadvertently, Taeyong looked down at himself. He was dressed in a simple jeans and t-shirt, the ugly mustard green of the apron doing little for his complexion.
He scowled as he looked up. It was late and he wasn’t in the mood to play games. And he didn’t know what Yuta had come for, but he could take a guess and there was no chance in hell he would let that happen.
“I won, Yuta,” he told him outright. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I won our race.”
“Yes.”
“So, if you’re here to tell me you changed your mind—”
“Taeyong.”
“—then I’m sorry but that’s not happening.”
“Taeyong.”
Taeyong blinked when Yuta lifted a swift hand to catch his cheek. His hand didn’t stay there, the touch gone as swiftly as it had come, but it had been very effective in shutting Taeyong up. Taeyong felt his cheeks burn.
“I’m not here to press for another business deal. I told you, Taeil can keep his garage.” Yuta shrugged as he leaned with his hip against his counter. “It’s rude, you know,” his lips curled into another grin, “to always assume the worst of me.”
Taeyong huffed. “Why are you here?”
“Ah, now you’re asking the right questions.” Yuta’s hand disappeared in his back pocket to procure a set of keys. “I came here to invite you.”
“To what?”
“Joy ride.”
Taeyong huffed. “I’m not into stolen cars.”
“How fortunate, then, that the car is mine.” Yuta grinned. “It’s me who brings the joy.” His smile softened a little when Taeyong snorted. “Ride with me, Taeyong. Not against me. Just with me.”
Taeyong bit his lip. It was stupid. He must have been insane to want to say yes to Yuta’s offer, but he wanted to. It was the thrill, he figured. Everything from Yuta’s dark, sparkling eyes to the fact that they were definitely not friends made Taeyong’s toes curl in his boots.
Thrilled.
“I’m working. I can’t just leave.”
“Jungwoo and Lucas can take over the store while we’re gone.”
Just then, Yuta’s men emerged from the aisles, their arms full of snacks.
“Yuta,” the one with the orange hair lilted. “Can we get these?”
Yuta waved his hand, holding Taeyong’s gaze while Jungwoo and Lucas dropped their loot on the counter.
Taeyong didn’t realise he had been holding his breath until he inhaled to say, “I’m not going to leave the store to two of your...friends, Yuta. That would be wholly irresponsible.”
“We’re responsible,” Orange Hair piped up. His muscled friend corroborated the statement with a firm nod. “I used to work at a bar. This can’t be that different, if not easier because no one is drunk-slurring their orders.”
Taeyong hadn’t quite figured out what to say to that when Yuta moved, walking around the counter with long strides. Taeyong’s heart skipped a beat when Yuta slid into the space behind him, his chest pressing against Taeyong’s back as his hands settled on Taeyong’s waist. No, not on his waist. On his hip, where Yuta’s fingers worked on the knot of his apron, undoing it.
Yuta’s mouth was right next to his ear as he said, “Live a little, Taeyong.”
Taeyong held still as Yuta’s hands slid up his sides and lifted the apron over his head. He could have turned around. He could’ve kneed Yuta in the nuts and thrown them all out of his store, but he did none of these things.
He blinked when Yuta came up beside him. “So, do you want to ride with me?”
Taeyong nodded.
Yuta beamed at him, his fingers brushing Taeyong’s cheek before he guided Taeyong out of the store with a hand on the small of his back. Jungwoo and Lucas remained inside.
Taeyong looked back through the glass of the automatic doors, watching as the two of them, giggling, put on aprons.
“Remind me that your friends have to pay for every snack they eat.”
“They will. Lucas has my card.”
Indeed, Taeyong watched as Orange Hair made a show of scanning the items they had brought and Lucas, apparently the bulky one, dutifully handed him a black card.
He averted his attention when Yuta led him towards the familiar sight of his black Skyline.
Yuta held the passenger door open for him. Taeyong didn’t hide his eye roll as he slid into the passenger seat. His expression changed as he took in his surroundings.
The inside of the Skyline looked, for lack of a better comparison, like a spaceship. There was no unnecessary bulk that would have slowed Yuta down while racing, but what was in there was of the highest standard, illuminated by hidden LED lights.
Taeyong smiled at the realisation that he had been right. The inside of Yuta’s car was much more than the outside let on.
“Do you like it?”
Taeyong licked his bottom lip, allowed himself a small smile as he trailed a hand over the dashboard. “It’s beautiful.”
He thought Yuta couldn’t have looked happier if Taeyong had kissed him. And that was a thought he quickly banned from his mind. He leaned back and strapped himself into the racing belt.
The engine purred to life with the push off a button and then Yuta was pulling out of the parking spot, smoothly steering the Skyline onto the street. Taeyong couldn’t help the excitement building in his chest.
No matter how he felt about Yuta, it was thrilling to ride with a driver as skilled as him. And Yuta lost no time to show him what he got.
Taeyong’s stomach swooped as they gained speed, the Skyline smoothly weaving through the night traffic. Taeyong settled back in his seat and allowed himself to enjoy the rush.
They made it out of the city and into the mountains in less than an hour.
Taeyong thought that riding a roller coaster would have been less exciting than drifting up the mountain roads with Yuta. His heart soared every time Yuta sent them sliding around corners that seemed too narrow for the Skyline to make it. They always did.
He almost felt a little disappointed when Yuta eventually pulled off the road, gravel crunching beneath their wheels as he pulled onto a small lot. Yuta parked right in front of the banister, the city a sprawling sea of lights beneath them.
“It’s beautiful,” Taeyong repeated his earlier words.
Yuta smiled at him. “Let’s get out.”
The cool mountain air was balm against Taeyong’s overheated cheeks and he had no qualms joining Yuta on the hood of his car. They had talked during the ride, traded stories about races they had won and lost and what they did when they weren’t obsessed with their car or bike.
Taeyong had found that Yuta wasn’t all that different from himself. He cared about his family more than anything else in the world. His little brother went to the same school that Sungchan did. The rest was just business, he said.
“What are you thinking about?”
Taeyong pried his eyes away from the city lights just long enough to smile at Yuta. “You.”
Something in Yuta’s expression changed at that.
“What are you thinking about?” Taeyong asked him.
Yuta was silent for a long moment, so long that Taeyong might’ve looked away if he could have. The hint of a smile appeared on Yuta’s face. “Sometimes I think about what would have happened if I had found you first. You know, before Taeil could snatch you up and make you a part of his family. Then you really could've been mine.”
Taeyong’s heart skipped a beat. “I wouldn't have joined the mob, Yuta.”
"Wouldn't you have? Why did you start racing again?"
"That was for my family. We needed money."
"And now you do it for what? Still the money? Or is the rush? Is it going so fast on your bike that it feels like flying? Winning?”
"It's still the money," Taeyong lied easily.
The quirk of Yuta's lip told him that Yuta was seeing right through his lies. Like in Taeil's office, Yuta moved quickly.
One moment, he had been perched next to Taeyong on the hood of the car, the next he was standing in front of him, effectively blocking Taeyong’s view of the city. Taeyong found that he didn’t mourn it much. Not when Yuta leaned into him.
His breath hitched when Yuta's nose brushed his cheek. "I have money."
Taeyong blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of Yuta’s words when all that occupied his mind was the weight of Yuta’s hands settling on his waist. "I'm not—I’m not going to race for you, Yuta."
"And if I promised you a rush on top of it?
He could tell by the twinkle in Yuta's eyes that Yuta wasn’t talking about cars. He licked his lips. "No,” he said, but he leaned into Yuta's touch when Yuta leaned in again to press a kiss against his cheek.
"Shame. You would look so good in black." Yuta's fingers brushed his neck. "Maybe with a tattoo, too."
Taeyong was proud of himself that he managed to snort. "I doubt the Seven-Eleven would let me have one."
"Quit.” Yuta was frowning as he pulled away. “You’re so beautiful. You should never be put into that ugly mustard colour.”
Taeyong frowned. "Why are you so obsessed with me joining your team?
Yuta's smile was heart-stopping in its simplicity. "Maybe I just like the idea of you picking up the phone when I call you.”
Taeyong searched his eyes for any sign that he was joking, but there was none. There was just earnesty and that quiet intensity that made Taeyong’s stomach swoop. He placed a hand on Yuta’s cheek.
It wasn't fear he felt. He felt... thrilled. The beginnings of a rush.
Slowly, he leaned in until their lips were mere millimetres apart. “If you want me to pick up the phone, you could just ask me out on a date.”
Yuta perked up. “Would you say yes?”
Taeyong smiled. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Will you let me drive on the way back?”
Yuta let out a sigh, but there was the cool press of keys being slid into Taeyong’s back pocket. “If that’s what it takes.”
Taeyong was still smiling when he pulled Yuta down to seal their lips together.