Chapter Text
you can be born in a city and hate that city. jiung doesn't hate seoul, but sometimes, he wishes he did. maybe it would've motivated him to leave and apply for scholarships in japan, china, or america. he's good at languages. he could've explored the world when he still had the potential to. maybe if jiung did that, he wouldn't be stuck in the same place for over 20 years now.
jiung doesn't have a lot to his name. he has two younger siblings and parents he cares a lot about. they used to always tell him how smart he was and how well he was going to do in the future, and he believed them. when jiung was 15 years old, and winning poetry competitions, everything was bright and shiny.
but 15 is a tough age. sometimes, kids push themselves too hard, stay up too many nights in a row, and agonize too long over a point off. sometimes, they burn out and end up hanging out with the wrong crowd. that's what happened to jiung, long story short.
his parents did their best handling a kid who used to have so much ahead of him. they gave him time and space, and let him move out of the house without worrying about caring for his siblings. but he still does. he has to. he doesn't want them to end up like him. he doesn't want them to feel bound to this city too.
jiung rents a tiny studio apartment an hour away and pays for it with his checks from the auto repair shop he works at. it turns out it's more difficult than most people would think to find a job with a bachelor's in economics, these days. in jiung's dreams, he would be in veterinary school, but this is reality, and the reality is that he comes back from work every day reeking of motor oil with an ache in his shoulders.
jiung has a few decent things. the rice cooker his mom bought him. the rusty, vintage watch his dad gifted him. and the fancy sneakers he bought for himself as a gift for graduating. hours spent working at the nearby convenience store turned into a pair of air jordans. they're mid-top, white, purple, and green. he tried them on once to show off to his siblings and now they sit in a box on top of a shelf. they're five times the price of all his other shoes and jiung thinks about selling them every once in a while. purple and teal accents. there's a kid in hongdae probably ready to pay half a million won for them.
but he never does. they sit in the box and jiung never looks at them. he just likes to remember that they're there, like a memory. maybe it's pride that keeps them in his possession, the hope he'll go somewhere nice enough to wear them, or maybe jiung's just trying to convince himself that he still deserves something good.
jiung's mother once told him that desire and love can’t help but overlap.
jiung wonders if this is true.
jiung's first car was a ten-year-old grey sedan he got as a hand-me-down from his oldest cousin. cloth upholstery, hard plastic, power windows, and a busted cd player. there was a stain on the passenger seat he could never get out and his friends made fun of it every chance they got, but jiung didn't care. it was his and that was all that mattered.
a month later, he went online and reupholstered the seats himself, dark brown leather that was cold to the touch in the winter. it wasn't the cleanest job, but it worked, and his friends were a lot more careful about spilling things back there.
he lost his virginity in the backseat of that car in the summer after his last year of high school. it was to some girl with short hair that he met at a bar by the beach. he was more than a hundred kilometers from his hometown, his friends were still busy drinking, and he fucked her with his hands pressed against the glass and her legs wrapped around his waist.
he remembers stuffing the used condom in his back pocket and the girl climbing out after not giving him her number. he returned to the bar and told his friends he had gone for a smoke. they drove back to seoul the next day and jiung laughed when someone asked why it reeked of sweat.
he crashed that sedan three weeks later, swerving for a baby deer. he and the deer were fine, but his car wasn't. he got an earful from his parents and his friends mourned the fact there wouldn't be any more trips to the beach that summer.
they always joked he was their chauffeur. it wasn't surprising when they grew apart when he left.
there wasn't much necessity for a car in the city, honestly. jiung was young and healthy, and he could get anywhere by foot or on public transportation. he still missed it anyway. the grip of the wheel, the vibrations under his feet, the way his body lurched when he hit the brakes at what could’ve been too late.
the closest thing to the thrill of driving a shit car when you're young, jiung supposed, was thrifting clothes. it was owning something new. it was having something in his hands. he liked how he felt when he got a good deal, and girls liked complimenting his vintage pieces while running a hand down his bicep.
sex could be control. sex could be power. but jiung never took anyone home. no matter how floral their perfume was, or how they dragged their long nails against his skin, it didn't dull the thrum of wanting something more. something that made his heart race. something that could only be his.
it's a want, a desire, something to chase. at the end of the day, jiung is most people. he wants a lot of things in life, and he is ashamed to admit that.
a few months after he graduates from university, jiung meets someone in the streets of apgujeong. they buy the nice leather jacket jiung is calculating how many paychecks at the repair shop it would take to afford. they don't even glance at the tag.
the other man is slightly taller, with black hair and styled bangs that reach his brow. he's handsome. his silver eyebrow piercing glistens under the store lights and jiung stares at him for a little too long. they catch his gaze, smile confidently, and introduce themself. his name is yoon keeho and he compliments the cartilage piercing jiung has that took too long to heal. he asks jiung for his instagram and jiung thinks keeho may be as gorgeous as he is strange.
they go their separate ways after that. keeho messages him the next day, just small talk, asking jiung what he does for work and for fun. they realize keeho's only older than jiung by a few weeks and it's easy to drop the formalities.
it doesn't take long for keeho to eventually ask him out for drinks. it's at a rooftop bar in gangnam that jiung doesn't know, and jiung can't help but hesitate. they may have the same taste in leather jackets but they're different, living on opposite sides of the same city. still, something about keeho draws jiung in, so jiung agrees, even if just out of curiosity.
when they meet, keeho leads jiung through streets he has never noticed before. the view is stunning at the top and jiung wonders if this is how keeho always sees this city.
their conversations are light, floating between getting to know each other and something deeper. jiung doesn't think this is a date, but he hangs onto keeho's every word anyway. his freelance graphic design gig, his projects, and jiung realizes that keeho is someone who enjoys the here and now.
he watches keeho sip his cocktail and jiung runs his finger along the glass of his rum and coke. when jiung starts to pay too much attention to the other people there, he feels out of place, but focusing on keeho makes him stay, even if keeho's intentions are unknown.
jiung meets keeho a few times after that. always at night, always either at some hip bar, underground market, or a street stall in the middle of nowhere. keeho is always the one to call him up. jiung never reaches out. it doesn't feel right to, not when keeho is straight white teeth, designer wallet, and smooth hands. not when jiung is what he has always been: calloused palms from odd jobs and a decade-old metro card in his back pocket.
their meetings become more frequent. drinks become coffee on the weekend, and keeho shows jiung all his favorite consignment stores. jiung has a few friends in the area, sure, but he starts to see keeho more than most other people in his life, and jiung wonders if, for keeho, it's the same.
jiung is drawn to keeho in ways that almost make him uncomfortable. keeho is always laughing, always teasing, always brushing his hand against jiung's shoulder in a way that leaves him both tense and wanting more. but whenever jiung looks closer, there is a line he can't cross. keeho's smile never falters, but his eyes never quite reveal what is underneath. and no matter how many times keeho calls him up, no matter how many nights they spend wandering through the city together, jiung can't shake the thought that keeho is hiding more.
it turns out he is right when the next time they see each other, keeho asks if he can stop by his work.
"do you have a car that needs fixing or something?" jiung asks.
"or something," keeho supplies. he smirks and jiung realizes that this is what he’s been searching for from him. so, he waits for keeho on a tuesday afternoon an hour before he gets off the clock, and then keeho is there with no vehicle in sight.
"what? you don't trust me to handle one of your fancy cars?" jiung jokes.
"just wanted to check out the place," keeho shrugs.
jiung raises a brow but doesn't push further. he just watches as keeho wanders around the shop, hands tucked in his pockets as his gaze drifts over the half-finished repairs and scattered tools. he lingers near a beat-up engine block, and when he turns to jiung, his expression is unreadable.
"what do you know about modifying cars?"
"modifying?" jiung echoes, wiping his hands on a rag. he can't tell if keeho is messing with him or not. "you mean repair-wise?"
keeho hums thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the outline of a wrench on the counter. "ever thought about doing more than repairs?" he glances up, eyes gleaming like he knows something jiung doesn't. "making cars faster, louder, maybe?"
jiung thinks he knows where this is going but he doesn't want to assume. so, he waits for keeho to go on.
"ever heard of the races they used to have by the river? midnight runs, no cops, no rules. the circuit got shut down, but there's a new one that's been up for over a month now. maybe you'd want to check it out with me."
jiung blinks. he may have guessed it, but this isn't what he expected when he let keeho come here. he had heard rumors, myths about the engines that screamed in the late hours of the night. but things like that aren't supposed to be possible in a place like seoul.
"underground street racing?"
keeho nods, a slow smile spreading across his face. "you interested?"
jiung hesitates, his mind wanders back to his first car. the thrill of the wheel under his hands, the sensation of speeding down empty roads late at night as a teenager, how even an old car like that made him feel alive.
but he's not that young anymore. jiung has a 40-hour work week and rental insurance, for god's sake. he's not supposed to want that kind of rush.
"if i studied a little, i could probably figure it out." jiung says slowly.
he's not supposed to want it, but it's yoon keeho offering, and that makes it different. at least, that's the only way jiung is willing to explain the old itch stirring back to life. the idea of fast cars and high stakes. jiung wants to chase it if only to see where it leads.
keeho's eyes brighten. "come on, let me show you something."
jiung ends his shift for the day and follows keeho without another question. the older takes him to a garage tucked away in a corner of a nearby industrial district. when they arrive, keeho punches in a code and the doors open with a low rumble.
inside, is a car. red, imported, gorgeous, and most noticeably, it's modified. jiung takes a step closer, eyes wide as he takes it in. it gleams under the light, daring him to touch.
"i used to race," keeho admits. "i don't anymore. i prefer the social aspect of it. watching, maybe betting here and there." he glances at jiung, observing his reaction. "but the thrill of it. it never really leaves you."
jiung runs a hand over the car's smooth surface. "why do you think i would want to?"
keeho grins. "i don't know. you seem like the type to enjoy different types of fun."
is he? jiung doesn't think that sounds right. he's been told he's a careful person, in his work, and his relationships. he's been called boring more times than he can count. he doesn't understand why keeho would think he would say yes to this.
"how about you come to watch a race this weekend? see if i'm right and it's something you'd want to try," keeho suggests.
the words dangle in the air. the possibility of a kind of freedom jiung doesn't know if he wants. but maybe he'll try it, maybe he'll like it, he's already wrapped up in keeho's orbit anyway.
he has nothing to lose by agreeing.
keeho takes jiung to a race that saturday, and underground street racing, jiung learns, is nothing like tokyo drift.
they meet in an industrial zone further north of seoul. shiny, modified cars all parked to one side. jiung asks keeho how they keep these things a secret, and keeho tells him that no one lives there. and the people and workers that do know, well, they reaped their own benefits from the racing.
the others at the race aren't that different from those you'd see in quieter parts of the city. everyone tries to blend in, maybe a few people with dyed hair and facial piercings, but no one is trying to be something new.
"i need to go make my rounds real quick," keeho says. he squeezes jiung's shoulder, and even though jiung might joke about how touchy keeho is, he wishes keeho didn't let go. not now, when he can feel the curious eyes on him. he doubts newcomers are often. operations like this, they don't work if people open their mouths.
keeho disappears and jiung's eyes wander. to the factories to the side, to the starry sky, to a man, not too far away, and looking at jiung with a smile.
his hair is dark red, and his eyelids are smudged with black. he doesn't particularly stand out in a brown leather jacket and straight-cut jeans, but jiung's gaze is drawn to him. jiung's first thought is that he's pretty, his second is that he looks like trouble, and his third is that he has really nice skin. he thinks that because the stranger now stands directly in front of him, head tilted and analyzing him like a cat.
"what's your name?" he asks. the other is taller than him, with pouty lips and soft features. his cheeks are just the faintest bit pink under the lights.
jiung blinks before dumbly looking behind him. the other laughs and waits for jiung to collect himself, for jiung to get the courage to meet his eyes.
"i'm choi jiung," he says. he takes his hands out of his pockets and gives the other a small wave. he regrets it immediately.
"nice. i'm choi taeyang." he waves back, much surer, and jiung feels his face heat up. "this is your first time here?"
"yes," he answers quickly. taeyang nods and looks him up and down.
"who invited you?"
"um." he tries to look through the crowd. "do you know yoon keeho?"
taeyang laughs. "everyone knows yoon keeho." his smile widens, there's something playful, maybe challenging, beneath it. jiung shifts under taeyang's gaze, unsure if he's being tested or sized up.
he decides to try and make small talk, glancing toward where keeho disappeared, but taeyang doesn't let up.
"so, what are you here for? just watching?" taeyang asks.
"just watching," jiung replies. taeyang hums, nodding like he's heard that answer a thousand times before.
"no urge to race?" he steps a little closer, eyes studying jiung's reaction.
jiung hesitates, glancing back at the sleek cars in the distance. he's thought about it more than he would like to admit, especially since keeho planted the idea in his head.
"i don't know," he tells him, trying to play it cool. "maybe."
before taeyang can press further, keeho suddenly reappears, his presence snapping the strange tension between them. "looks like you met my friend taeyang," keeho says with an easy smile. his arm wraps around taeyang's waist and there is something possessive but unsaid.
taeyang scoffs but leans into the touch. he glances at keeho before slowly nodding his head. "yeah, we're good friends."
jiung watches them. they don't look like just friends, but jiung doesn't pry. he can't. not when the crowd starts to gather around the starting line, adrenaline building in the air like static.
the race is about to start and all jiung can pay attention to is the smell of gasoline in the air. keeho was right. maybe jiung is the type to look for different types of fun. maybe he's forgotten what it's like when speed is power, what it's like when the world blurs around you.
the countdown begins, and the crowd presses in. jiung is caught in a whirlwind of bright lights, burning rubber, and the itch for his hands around a wheel. it pulls him in faster than he expected. the way the energy shifts, the moment when everything becomes a spectacle, jiung knows he could get drunk on it.
and for now, as the race kicks off and the cars blaze away, jiung lets the moment consume him.
"you looked like you were enjoying yourself," keeho says, long after everything has winded down.
jiung had watched the cars cross the finishing mark with bated breath, heart racing when they both screeched to a halt. he heard cheers and maybe the pop of a bottle. keeho had been beside him with taeyang in his arms, the two of them in the middle of making out when jiung had turned to ask the name of the guy who won.
some kid from yangju, a little younger, been racing for a few months. he's eager to stay in the scene. he's making a name for himself.
jiung nods. "yeah, it was really cool." that's the limit to how much he's willing to express himself right now, tired with too many things on his mind. it doesn't seem to bother keeho. if anything, he looks satisfied. like a cat that caught the mouse, with the way he smirks as he continues to drive.
he turns on the radio. it's a song in english, catchy enough to hum along to and, apparently, easy enough for keeho to sing.
"i didn't know you could sing," jiung says.
"i was in the church choir when i was young," keeho answers. "did i not tell you?" he doesn't even look at jiung when he asks.
"no. but i guess there's a lot of things i don't know about you." it comes out petty, which wasn't jiung's intention, but he lets it simmer in the air anyway.
"like what?" keeho counters. he finally turns his head. jiung wants to tell him to keep his eyes on the road.
"you never told me about taeyang."
red hair. brown eyes. pouty lips. choi taeyang is memorable to a fault.
"that's true," keeho nods. "which is odd. i've known him for years now, i'm surprised i haven't brought him up. maybe i was worried about making you jealous," keeho laughs. there's a confident look on his face and he glances at jiung like he is waiting for him to laugh too.
he doesn't.
jiung wants to race. he's willing to admit that to himself after watching hours of footage online of other street races in foreign countries on sketchy sites. what seoul has to offer isn't even close to the grandeur of the international scenes he's seen, but it doesn't matter. jiung craves a piece of it, so he'll take what he can get.
jiung picks up another part-time job, taking the early morning shifts at the convenience store by his apartment. it's a lot to balance. two jobs, studying videos, and going wherever keeho shows him. but he does it because he wants to. his pay is always received in cash and the weight in his backpack outweighs the tiredness in his bones.
he starts a budget separate from everything else with a single goal in mind. something modest that he can make his own, something he can change up with his own hands like he did back in high school with that old sedan. he tells keeho about it one night as they sit at a boardwalk in incheon, watching the distant lights of boats passing in the sea.
"you're serious about this, huh?" keeho asks, tilting his head like he's seeing jiung in a new light.
"yeah," jiung replies, surprising himself with how determined he sounds. "it would feel good, having something to work on outside of my job."
keeho hums thoughtfully. there's a knowing look in his eyes, like he's already made a decision. "come on. i've got something to show you, then."
it's past midnight when keeho takes him to a different garage. this time tucked away in a quiet neighborhood where jiung realizes keeho must live. nice houses, steel gates, of course keeho lives here.
inside, under a tarp, is a blue coupe. it's a couple of years old, well-kept, and with all the right parts in all of the right places. no modifications, nothing fancy, but it has the potential to be something much more.
"it was my second car after i accidentally crashed the first," keeho explains, running a hand over the hood. "got into the racing scene a little after i got it and decided to go for something a little flashier instead." he steps back, glancing over at jiung with a small smile. "you can have it. you'd be doing me a favor, honestly, taking it off my hands."
jiung stares at the car, heart pounding. "what?"
keeho shrugs, the gesture casual, but his eyes are sharp. "yeah, i mean, it's just sitting here. i don't need it anymore. and you want to race, don't you?"
jiung doesn't like owing people things. he can guess how much a car like this costs and it's leagues out of what he has saved up right now. but the thing is, to keeho, this car is nothing, just a hunk of metal, something taking up space. while for jiung, well, this could be a start. his start.
keeho pats the roof one last time before tossing him the keys. jiung still hasn't said anything, but keeho knows and it makes jiung's stomach hurt. "come on, show me what you've got."
when jiung's finally able to afford the right parts from the right people, he spends sleepless nights tuning, tweaking, and dreaming. he starts with the engine, upgrading the turbo and finding a way to squeeze out every ounce of power. next, it's the suspension, swapping out the wheels, and finally, fitting a new exhaust system. the car growls through the empty shop and jiung beams with pride.
he hides the vehicle in the back of the garage at his work. it's close enough for him to check on it and safe enough considering his boss doesn't care enough to look. for weeks it's just him, the machine, and an obsession he tries to keep at bay.
the first and only person he can show his hard work off to is keeho. jiung invites him to the shop one night, and keeho circles his car like a hyena circles prey.
"not bad all by yourself," keeho remarks, his tone a mix of admiration and something else jiung can't place a name to. "have you been out on the road yet?"
"not yet," jiung answers. in all honesty, he's been scared. he hasn't done anything drastic like add a spoiler or alter the body too much. but under the hood is a different story, and the thought of losing control has kept him from really testing it. he doesn't admit that to keeho.
keeho raises a brow. "you've spent all this time and you're afraid to push it? come on, jiung. you've worked hard. you deserve to let loose."
jiung feels his face heat up. he knows that keeho's right, but the weight sits heavy on his chest. it's not just a project anymore. if he takes it out and something goes wrong, it's not just a failure of parts.
"tomorrow night," jiung says, the words coming out before he can stop them. "we can go for a drive."
keeho grins, clapping him on the shoulder. "now that's what i'm talking about! i can't wait."
jiung can't help but mirror his expression. keeho is good at smiling like he means it, and jiung tries to ignore the hickeys on the other's neck.
the next evening, jiung grips the steering wheel with white knuckles as he pulls onto the street. keeho's excitement is palpable and jiung's heart pounds as the engine roars to life. he's cautious, easing into the throttle as they find some empty back roads. the car responds beautifully, practically purring beneath him as he accelerates smoothly. each shift is seamless, and the handling feels tight, far more responsive than he ever imagined.
as they continue down the lane, jiung's confidence grows. he pushes the limits a little, taking curves faster than he would ever dare before. the wheels grip asphalt like it was made for this and jiung can do nothing but smile. it's the first time in a long time that he's built something for himself that doesn't fall apart. this is a moment he's been waiting for, and it's going better than he could have hoped.
after a few more exhilarating kilometers, jiung pulls over to the side of the road, breathless and grinning. he glances over at keeho, who is practically vibrating with energy.
"i bet you're ready for your first race," keeho says, something wild dancing in his eyes.
"what?" jiung sputters. he's not ready at all. the thought of racing sends a wave of anxiety through him. he's feeling lucky right now that nothing went wrong. the idea of pushing the car to its limits in front of an audience would be far too much.
keeho leans closer, his enthusiasm infectious. "come on, jiung! just think about it. you've poured your heart into this for weeks now. you deserve to show it off, don't you think? you've seen the races, it's not like it’s anything more than some bored rich kids throwing around money. it'll be fun for you, and you'll be great out there." keeho puts his hand on jiung's thigh. it's warm like a brand. "i'll be there too. just trust me."
jiung's mind races with every reason why he should say no. it doesn't make any sense, thrusting himself out into the scene like this when he's hardly spoken to anyone other than keeho and taeyang, the latter of who jiung still isn't sure hates him or not. he has no experience under his belt and jiung is not the type of person who can dive in headfirst into things like this. things that could cost him his future.
but the spark in keeho's eyes, the thrill of the unknown that calls out to him. keeho's thumb rubs circles over the denim of his jeans and jiung is frozen in place. it's a horrible idea. keeho's cologne smells like vanilla and musk. he should think on it for a night, at the very least, but it's also keeho, and jiung still hasn't figured out the secret to saying no to him yet.
"okay," he finally responds, a mix of dread and heat swirling in his gut. "let's do it."
two weeks later, keeho is telling him that he's on the roster. his first race is that night and jiung still doesn't feel like it's real.
luckily, keeho is all too ready to reassure him. "you've worked hard, and you're ready. just remember to trust yourself and your car. the adrenaline will kick in and you'll feel it all come together. just think about our drives. it's all about the thrill, right?"
as they arrive at the race, jiung's nerves spike. he can feel the weight of too many eyes on him. he thinks keeho will stick by him this time, but he doesn't, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd like always. jiung is left standing there, heart racing, scanning the crowd.
suddenly, someone calls out to him.
"hey!" it's a guy with platinum bleached hair cut to their chin. jiung can tell he's younger, probably fresh out of high school, but he exudes twice the confidence jiung has when he shakes his hand. "i'm soul." his korean is careful, slow, maybe unfamiliar on his own tongue. keeho mentioned once that foreigners would show up sometimes, rich kids with rich parents who wanted to see what seoul after midnight has to offer.
"i'm jiung," he responds. soul nods.
"i like your shoes," the blond says. jiung looks down at his sneakers, vintage but roughed up, and wonders if this kid is making fun of him. he doesn't think so though, from soul's kind smile and bright eyes.
"thanks."
"no problem,” soul laughs, and it reminds jiung of his younger brother for a split second. "good luck out there. i put a lot of money on you."
before jiung can ask why soul would do that, the younger is running off to a different group of people, light on his feet like he doesn't have a care in the world.
"you shouldn't give the people here your real name," a voice says, suddenly beside him.
he turns, and it's taeyang. there's a lazy look in his eyes and gloss that shimmers on his lips.
"you gave me yours," jiung replies.
"that was different, jiung-ssi."
"how?" he counters.
"because it was you," taeyang shrugs.
"oh," jiung says, because that's all he can do with the knot in his throat. things with taeyang aren't as uncomfortable as the first time they met. they've exchanged social media accounts, and made light conversation whenever they've seen each other, but it always gets tense between them, and jiung can't pinpoint why. "do you know where keeho went?"
it's a question he's asked taeyang plenty of times before, so he's surprised by the way the other tenses.
"why would i know where keeho is?"
"because you're—" jiung stops himself before he says it. taeyang still catches it in the air.
"friends? yeah, that's what he likes to call us, right?" taeyang says. he laughs and it sounds like it tires him out. "yeah. keeho is my good friend that i let spit in my mouth and fuck me and i always know where he is."
jiung didn't know that. he also didn't need that visual. taeyang seems annoyed now. he feels partially to blame for it.
"i—"
"no," taeyang interrupts. he sighs, lets his shoulders slump, and runs a hand through his hair. "i'm sorry," he says, a softer look on his face. "just don't bring up keeho right now."
jiung nods. he can do that. he would rather talk about other things right now anyway. like the fact that this is his first race, and how he feels like he might throw up, or the fact that just any conversation might be good right now.
"have you ever raced before?" he ends up saying.
taeyang looks at him, then the sky. "yeah, a few times. back at the old circuit. i was on a streak before i quit."
"why'd you stop?"
"it's not for me. the rush or whatever people get, i don't think i ever really felt it," taeyang says. "like sure, you're going fast and that's scary, but for me, that's all it was. more than a performance than anything real." he pauses, looking thoughtful. "or maybe it was the fact that everyone was watching? that sort of attention isn't my thing."
jiung nods, trying to understand. it's almost too easy for him to imagine how overwhelming it is, how the noose gets tighter around your neck with every win under your name. but the way he's been trying to see it, or maybe how keeho's been trying to frame it, is that this is about freedom. the wind in your hair and the open road.
"this is all a stage, you know?" taeyang continues, shifting the conversation. "you either show up or you get eaten alive. everyone wants to shine."
jiung agrees to an extent. stages are meant for performances, acting, and the grandeur of it all. for there to be a stage there must be a crowd, and if there's a crowd it must be a show. but shows aren't real, the actors always make it off stage. races, those are real. jiung knows that because he doesn't think he'll be the same person before and after.
"so just drive your heart out, jiung-ssi. you'll be fine." fine could mean a lot of things. winning would be fine, getting out of this alive would be fine, and not making a fool of himself would be fine. it's very vague and kind of unhelpful, but it's the best pep talk jiung will get right now, so he takes it to heart.
he'll be fine.
the sound of jiung's heartbeat is loud in his ears. his hands sweat against his grip on the steering wheel of his car and the roar of the engine vibrates through his chest. he tries to remember what it feels like to breathe, counts in and out, and tries to forget that eyes are watching him.
it's a stage. it's just some bored rich kids throwing around some money. none of that feels true right now.
the air smells like gasoline, so he tries to lock in on that, using the familiar scent to ground himself. he glances in the rearview mirror, and he catches sight of keeho among the crowd, his expression unreadable. the sight briefly calms jiung down, but the weight of the moment settles heavily on him once again.
the crowd packs together. jiung looks out the window, searching for a familiar face once more, and is met with red hair and brown eyes. the bright lights swallow taeyang's features but jiung thinks he's looking back. then it's the countdown, flags waving in the air.
suddenly jiung wonders what would happen if he lost. the possibility is high. it's his first race, after all, and he knows what he looks like to the crowd. a car with a modest build, little modifications that don't shine under the sun. not flashy enough, not big enough. he wonders if he'll be fast enough. he wonders if he'll make the right turn at the right time. he wonders what will happen if he doesn't.
"three!" his pulse quickens.
"two!" the noise from the crowd blends into a roar.
"one!" the world around him fades, narrowing down to the course ahead.
the count reaches zero.
jiung puts his foot on the gas.
it feels a lot like holding a gun to the head.
the guy he's racing against is good. a 19-year-old from ilsan that keeho said has been messing with car parts since he was in middle school. both cars' tires screech against the ground, and jiung tries to focus only on the asphalt blurring beneath him.
the first turn comes up and jiung grips the wheel tighter, engine roaring as they fly around the corner. the tires grip the road with determination and somehow, jiung's heart doesn't beat right out of his chest.
the ilsan kid takes the lead, pulling ahead just slightly. jiung can see the experience in his every move, but he refuses to let it intimidate him.
he shifts gears and instinctively pushes down on the accelerator harder. the car responds beautifully, surging forward as he settles into the rhythm of the race.
the next curve is easy. he leans into it and feels the pull as he shifts his weight. he hears the rubber burning against asphalt, and jiung's confidence grows.
he sees a gap, and jiung takes the chance. he dips low, taking the inside lane and he knows victory is at his fingertips.
as they round the last corner, jiung's car edges ahead and the two vehicles are nearly side by side. jiung can't risk looking back. he has to push forward. he's a racer now. he'll be fine.
as they head towards the end, jiung takes a deep breath and grounds himself. he accelerates harder, trying to pull even a centimeter more ahead, and makes it past the line. he's grinning when the car starts to settle down, when he can finally hear the crowd and the wind again.
jiung steps out of his vehicle and sees those two familiar faces. they're both smiling at him, and jiung thinks that even if he was told that he lost, right then, it still wouldn't be the end of the world.
jiung wins by less than a second, pretty good for his first time, and memorable because a lot of people lost a lot of money. keeho takes him out to celebrate, with taeyang and those who won, and they hit the town. they order drinks, then shots, then someone pays for a table, and it is sweaty body pressed against sweaty body and liquor poured down dry throats.
jiung, as someone who doesn't go out much and is still high on adrenaline, very expectedly, gets drunk. his eyelids are heavy, the room is blurry, and when a warm hand reaches out to brush his hair out of his face, he leans into it immediately.
"for a winner, you're looking awfully pathetic over here." it's taeyang's voice. teasing words tinged with amusement, and jiung forces his eyes to open wider just to appreciate him.
"i'm not," he murmurs.
"not what?" taeyang asks. he's smiling, all pretty and secretive, and jiung wants to do something about it so bad that it hurts.
"not pathetic," he manages to respond.
"yeah, i know," taeyang nods. "you're a big shot racer now, aren't you, jiung-ssi?" he sits next to jiung, sides pressed close, and jiung lets out a pleased hum when taeyang offers his shoulder for him to lean on.
when he's this near, face almost pressed into taeyang's neck, he can smell his cologne that usually gets swept away by the evening chill. there's a spicy warmth to it that makes his nostrils flare, like a slow burn of cinnamon or pepper. it's sharp yet comforting, clinging to the little space between them and making jiung feel heady.
he wonders if this is all his imagination. racing, keeho, taeyang, that soul kid. because how can any of this be real? how can jiung be sitting here, too many drinks later, leaning on taeyang's shoulder? he looks up at the other and thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him. they must be, because why would taeyang's eyes be on his mouth, right? jiung doesn't know, but the room feels tighter, warmer, and jiung's lips part. every second slips by like an eternity.
he acknowledges again that the relationship between him and taeyang is strange. friends that aren't quite friends. people who know each other through the racing scene and more importantly, keeho. he doesn't know much about the other except that he was born in the summer of the same year as jiung, that he's known keeho for years now, and that he has a way of making jiung feel off-balance, like the ground is shifting beneath him every time they're together. there's something magnetic about taeyang that's different than keeho, different than anyone jiung has ever met before.
he can't help but want to know what it is.
jiung feels like a man possessed when he tilts his head, close enough to see the sweat dripping down taeyang's skin, and he doesn't hesitate when his tongue darts out to collect it. it's salty and hot, and it sates something deep in jiung's gut, so he chases it. he licks taeyang's neck, mouths at it, and when his teeth scrape by just the slightest bit, he can hear a moan escape taeyang's lips. taeyang sounds pretty even when he wants something, and it only spurs jiung on further.
his hand settles on taeyang's lap and taeyang's hand quickly envelops his. their fingers intertwine and jiung rubs circles with his thumb along the inner part of taeyang's thigh. he imagines what it would be like to have taeyang under him, moaning his name as he touches him, and he's itching for more when taeyang suddenly disentangles them.
"jiung," he says in a rasp. jiung freezes, suddenly remembering they are in a dimly lit but still very public place and pulls away to look at him.
"hm?" he manages to get out. because the five shots of tequila still sit heavy in his brain.
"not here, okay?" taeyang's cheeks are tinted red, almost as red as his hair. jiung is trying so hard not to kiss him. "and not now, when you're like this."
"like what?" he asks. he wonders how horribly hungover he'll be tomorrow. he wonders if taeyang tastes like cherries.
"drunk," taeyang giggles, then, "don't pout. you don't know what you want right now."
"i'm not pouting." at least, jiung doesn't think he is. "and i do know what i want." he sounds like a child. he sounds like someone else.
"oh, yeah?" taeyang challenges. "what is it?"
to feel the wind in his hair. to not worry about his bills. to buy his parents a house. to feel like he's worth something. to taste choi taeyang on his lips. to understand what it's like to be yoon keeho for even one second.
what?
he didn't mean that last part. jiung does not want to be yoon keeho. these days, he's not even sure if keeho actually likes him. sometimes keeho feels like he's waiting for a reaction from him. sometimes keeho laughs a little too loud at his jokes. sometimes jiung thinks keeho sees him as a little kid, which he's not. he's 23 years old, with a degree under his belt, and he just won a fucking underground street race. that should mean something, right? right. it must. because if he hadn't, he wouldn't be at this club, and taeyang wouldn't be smiling at him. and if taeyang is still smiling at him, then that must mean he didn't accidentally say the weird part out loud. his win was real.
jiung still has a chance to make this night end alright.
he comes up with the next best answer.
"i want to go home."
and then the tiredness settles in his bones, taeyang wraps an arm around his shoulder, and everything fades to black.
the next time jiung sees keeho or taeyang again, it's the next weekend. he may or may not have been ignoring some texts, but keeho doesn't bring it up and jiung doesn't know why he thought he would.
"busy week?" is the only indication he gets that keeho cares.
"yeah," jiung responds. he looks at keeho and really analyzes him. notes the perfectly slicked-back hair, the nice jacket, the shiny belt buckle, and the designer shoes. it's an outfit that wouldn't suit jiung at all and jiung wonders for the hundredth time that week why he had that thought the other night, about wanting to be yoon keeho.
maybe it was because of keeho's charisma, the way he knows everyone and can seem to make anyone open up. or maybe it's keeho's confidence and the way he carries himself that borders on arrogance. jiung has caught him looking at himself in the reflection of just about anything and the worst part is that keeho always looks good. he's attractive to the point that he could probably date anyone he wants, and he's aware of that, which only makes it more infuriating.
like taeyang. keeho is the type of guy who could date taeyang, and that bothers jiung too. because he doesn't and sometimes, he makes taeyang pissed off like the other night, and jiung doesn't think taeyang should ever feel like that.
or maybe it's the way keeho can read people, perhaps read minds, because then suddenly he's bringing up the man jiung is thinking of again.
"have you seen taeyang?" he asks. jiung stiffens and pretends to look around.
"no. don't think so," he replies. keeho nods and the way he gazes at jiung makes him think that he knows something.
"he's probably around here somewhere. wanna help me find him? you guys are friends at this point, aren't you?" it's a challenge. keeho wants jiung to give something up, and it takes jiung everything in him not to.
"i'm not sure. i'm not good at talking around him, i think." is what jiung manages to come up with.
"why? do you have a crush on taeyang or something?" keeho laughs, but then jiung isn't laughing with him, and the corner of his lip twitches. "you can tell me if you do."
it's funny, because a sentence like that should sound reassuring, but in jiung's ears it's a threat. keeho was the one who said taeyang and him were just friends, yet he acts like this. it's childish, which doesn't align with every other image jiung has of keeho, and jiung finally remembers that keeho is just as human as he is.
"i almost forgot i'm racing tonight. i should check on my car." he did so well the first time, apparently people are interested in seeing him again. jiung wasn't feeling eager, but now he is as it gives him the opportunity to leave this conversation.
he goes over to his vehicle and inspects it as carefully as he does every time. he's a meticulous person and he prides himself in that. if anything happens during the race, it will be because of him and not his car.
"are you nervous?"
jiung nearly jumps out of his skin. he turns and of course, it's taeyang, haunting him like a fucking ghost. taeyang laughs at his reaction and comes up beside him.
"you shouldn't be. you did great last week."
"thanks." jiung thinks of warm cinnamon and pepper, salt on his tongue. he needs to get away from him. "i'll see you after the race."
it's dismissive and cold, and it doesn't feel right coming out of jiung's mouth. taeyang bites his bottom lip like he wants to say something but instead decides to take the cue and walks off. jiung finally breathes and gets into his car. he still has time, but he pulls up to the starting line anyway.
when he does, he can hear a shout. he ignores it but then he realizes it's his name. it's the foreign kid from last time, soul. he's yelling "choi jiung, fighting!" and jiung can't help but crack a smile.
it's finally time, and jiung really settles in. he checks his mirrors, his grip on the wheel, the usual routine. when he arrives at the starting line, he realizes this isn't as nearly as terrifying as the first time. maybe it's because his opponent this time is someone keeho told him he didn't have to worry about, or maybe it's because he knows the course now. either way, his heart is still beating fast and he's itching to hit the gas.
the countdown starts and jiung doesn't dare to look out the window, not knowing who he'll see, and too scared to know if they would look back. he focuses on the pedal under his foot, the road ahead, and the flag that drops to the ground.
the car jerks forward, the engine screams, and jiung chases the lights.
jiung wins again. he's doing great. an underdog rookie who's allegedly going to start causing trouble in the underground racing scene. but that sounds like more pressure than jiung is willing to put himself through in one night, so he declines keeho's invitation to celebrate and blames it on his tiredness and not his fear of being in close proximity to taeyang again.
he goes to sleep exhausted and wakes up on sunday with little motivation. he tears himself from his bed around noon to buy groceries and the rest of the weekend passes with ease.
monday comes and it's back to work. he answers calls, runs maintenance in the garage, and does what he knows how to. his shift ends around 6 p.m. and he decides to try the yukhoe restaurant that his boss recommended. it's a bus ride away and there's a line, but it moves quickly, so jiung decides to wait.
this is a mistake, he finds out, when he sees a familiar face out of the corner of his eye.
"oh. hey." taeyang looks equally, if not more, surprised than jiung is. he hesitates before standing beside him in the queue and they don't make eye contact until jiung cannot physically bear the awkwardness anymore.
"do you live around here?" it comes out quicker than intended, like he choked and spit the words onto the ground.
"hm? yeah. i come here a lot recently. good food," taeyang supplies. "you?"
"no. it was a recommendation from my boss," he answers. taeyang nods and jiung thinks this is fate playing a prank on him. he's never seen taeyang in the daytime. bare-faced and dressed in a grey cardigan and tan slacks, taeyang feels like a different person, all soft around the edges, and it's strange. his hair is tied up and jiung feels the urge to undo it, if only for the slightest bit of familiarity.
it's been a little over a week after what happened. if taeyang was just some random person he met in college, jiung would've forgotten about him by now. but taeyang isn't, and jiung still hears him rasping out his name in his dreams and still feels the shadow of taeyang's hand enveloping his when he aches to be touched.
luckily, the line moves fast. jiung orders the first entrée he sees on the menu and hopes that taeyang doesn't try to continue a conversation with him. but taeyang does, of course, and jiung wonders if it would have been less painful to just go home hungry.
"do you want to eat with me?"
jiung's eyes must widen a comical amount because taeyang laughs at him and barely tries to hide it with his hand.
"is the idea of eating with me that strange, jiung-ssi?" he looks more relaxed now, bright enough that jiung can barely look. "or is the offer just that unappealing to you?"
"no," jiung immediately refutes. "it's not that. it's just—well, i didn't expect it."
"so, is that a yes?"
jiung blinks. a "no" is on his tongue, but then both of their order numbers get called at the same time, their hands bump when they try to pick up their respective plastic bags, and jiung realizes he was doomed from the start.
"i live less than five minutes from here," taeyang says. he takes one step down the road and before jiung knows it, he does too. taeyang waits for him and they walk side by side, bags in hand, like they're old friends about to catch up over a meal. they make it to taeyang's place by exchanging small talk about the weather, and then jiung is standing in the middle of taeyang's apartment wearing the pink pair of slippers that were loaned to him.
taeyang's place isn't what jiung's would have imagined. it's cozy, with a soft patterned rug, brown couch, and dark wooden furniture. there's an acoustic guitar by the wall that catches jiung's attention, and sheet music scattered on taeyang's bed.
"you play?" he asks.
"the guitar? yeah. it's relaxing," taeyang replies, seeming surprised that jiung even mentioned it.
jiung gravitates toward the sheet music and tries to make sense of it. he doesn't recognize the name of the song, something in japanese. there are scribbles in little places. words written in between bars, arrows and chord names between measures. the paper is crinkled at the edges and jiung wonders how many hours taeyang practices a day.
"i used to play the piano," he offers.
"really? how long?" taeyang asks, curiosity clearly piqued.
"six years? i think? i used to really like it," jiung answers. "but i just got tired one day and quit." piano, taekwondo, poetry club. jiung used to do a lot of things. he used to want to be a lot of people.
"it happens," taeyang tells him, shrugging his shoulders. "sometimes, you lose interest in one thing to find another. people are meant to change."
"are they?" it comes out like a croak. jiung is suddenly struck with the memory of being 14 years old with a bronze medal around his neck. it had felt like his whole world was collapsing even as his teacher told him he had done a good job.
"if they weren't, then what's the point of us getting older? we grow, we learn, we change, and we do our best to be the people we want to be. isn't that what life is?" taeyang says. he turns away. "do you want something to drink?"
he opens his fridge for jiung to look into and jiung doesn't even take a glance before saying, "i should probably just head back. i'm more of someone who likes to eat alone."
taeyang raises his brows. "i thought you came here because you wanted to share a meal with me, jiung-ssi."
"i did, but i don't want to... i don't want to bother you." he's about to move from where he is awkwardly standing when suddenly, taeyang approaches him.
"you don't want to bother me? why? it's not a sin to want something," taeyang says. he's close, much closer, leaning into jiung's space and trapping him against the nearest wall. "or someone." his eyes dart to jiung's lips, and this time jiung knows he's not crazy.
that same heady feeling from the club comes back to him in waves, and jiung bites the bullet and does what he's been wanting to do for a long time now. he tangles his fingers into taeyang's dark hair and presses their mouths together.
taeyang kisses him back immediately, moving his lips against jiung's and moaning when jiung tugs at the strands. jiung's tongue presses against the seam of his lips, and taeyang welcomes him, easily letting him take control as their tongues move against each other.
jiung relishes how taeyang tastes, just as sweet as he imagined. their noses bump and teeth clash when jiung starts to feel eager for more, and taeyang picks up on this, as he takes jiung's hands and places them on his hips. jiung takes the opportunity to squeeze, savoring the sounds taeyang makes in response, and he doesn't pull away until taeyang whispers that he can't breathe.
when they come face to face, taeyang's lips are shiny with spit, his cheeks are tinted red, and there's a dazed look in his eyes. his hair tie must have fallen out at some point as his dark hair frames his face. he laughs softly, gripping the collar of jiung's shirt and pressing their foreheads together. jiung can feel his breath against his lips when he speaks.
"you're not quite like anyone else, jiung-ssi." he smiles so pretty, and it makes jiung feel warm from head to toe. he doesn't think he's let himself feel like this in a long time and it makes something in his chest unfurl. taeyang's words are barely a confession of anything, but it's something, and jiung thinks he'll be satisfied if even a sliver of the man in front of him can be called his. so he kisses taeyang again and slips his hands under his shirt, touching his bare skin and giggling when taeyang says he likes how warm he is.
taeyang drags him by the hand to the couch and jiung falls on top of him. they fit together easily, with taeyang's arms wrapped around his neck, and jiung's hands on his waist. he slots a thigh between taeyang's legs and swallows the resulting moan from his mouth. taeyang is hard against him and jiung burns knowing that he is the cause.
he sits up to take off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and grins as taeyang undoes his belt buckle. taeyang's skin is flushed and jiung wonders how far it extends. he wants to see all of taeyang and take whatever he has to offer. anything, everything, it doesn't matter how small the pieces are.
the only thing he should be concerned about is the price. what doing this with taeyang will mean when they see each other at night, under the bright lights of the industrial zone and the unfamiliar eyes of others. what kind of face keeho will make when he sees the bite marks jiung has left on taeyang's chest.
but it's difficult to. especially when jiung finally has taeyang completely undressed, all pliant, soft, and beautiful. he's begging for another finger inside of him, begging for jiung to fuck him, begging for jiung to make him fall apart.
so all jiung can do is give, and give, and tell himself that this is a change he will never regret.
he ends up spending the night at taeyang's. it wasn't intentional, but taeyang had asked, and jiung wasn't going to say no to a hot shower with a pretty man.
they end up fucking again, in there, with taeyang's hands pressed against the tiled walls as jiung thrusted into him from behind. taeyang had moaned his name like a symphony and told jiung to come inside him. jiung had watched, mesmerized, at the sight of his cum dripping from taeyang's hole and contemplated asking taeyang if he could eat him out. but before he could do that, taeyang was complaining that his fingers were getting wrinkly and jiung could only smile.
so, they washed up again, this time with their hands to themselves, and taeyang lent jiung some shorts. now the sun has set and jiung is lying face to face with a sleeping taeyang in his bed.
he doesn't know how taeyang did it, managing to knock out seconds after he fixed the blankets. but he did, and now it's just jiung and his thoughts in the middle of the night.
taeyang's roots are starting to show. jiung thinks that black would suit him well. he considers running his hand through taeyang's hair, but it doesn't seem right to touch him when he's like this, eyes closed and smelling like lavender shampoo.
instead, jiung just pulls the blanket up a little higher. taeyang makes a small noise and his eyes flutter open. jiung holds his breath and taeyang laughs.
"stop staring at me and go to sleep," he says. he nuzzles closer to jiung's chest and jiung's heart skips a beat. he carefully places a hand on taeyang's waist, testing the waters, and when the other sighs in contentment, jiung knows that this is okay.
he manages to fall asleep like that, with taeyang in his arms, in a place that isn't his. he hasn't shared a bed with anyone in a long time. he’ll probably have to wake up earlier than usual to get home before work. he'll also have to figure out how to untangle taeyang's fist from his shirt. it's strange, but it's not the kind that makes jiung feel sick.
instead, he feels warm. warm from taeyang and warm from something else. jiung wonders if this can be called peace.
he doesn't race the next week. there's a roster that's been prepared for a while now, and jiung doesn't mind. he's had other things occupying his brain anyway, like taeyang, and keeho, and what taeyang and keeho are to each other and how that relates to jiung.
he has been texting them both. keeho, like nothing's happened, and taeyang, with awkward greetings. it's not the same when he sees them. keeho's arm is wrapped around taeyang's shoulder like it's second nature, and jiung itches to do the same.
keeho doesn't make his usual rounds that day. which is strange, because jiung has never seen keeho miss an opportunity to network or collect bets. but he does, and he sticks to taeyang and him, eyes watching like he's waiting for a slip-up.
jiung figures he must know, has probably seen the bruises on taeyang's thighs in the shape of jiung's fingers. jiung just doesn't know if he'll address it. if he does, will he be angry? will keeho care that the two people who used to only know him now know each other?
he must, if the way he kisses taeyang in front of jiung is any indication. it's in the middle of a conversation. keeho's tongue in taeyang's mouth like he wants to prove something, and the sounds are wet and vulgar. when they pull away, keeho wipes away the spit from taeyang's chin, and taeyang looks at him dazed.
keeho turns to jiung with the same casual arrogance as always, and jiung has never found keeho so unattractive. keeho is human too, he remembers that easily now. it's hard to hide the laughter bubbling in his throat.
the race starts and jiung gets swept up in it. the crowd, the noise, the inevitable countdown. it's the kid from ilsan again, this time against the guy from yangju. apparently, they're tied in wins and losses. newly formed rivals that have pulled in a big betting pool.
jiung has beaten one of them, and he wonders if he could outrace the other.
he turns to ask who's got more money on them that night, but when he does, jiung realizes that keeho and taeyang are gone. he looks around, squinting, and finally spots them underneath the shadow of a warehouse not far away. keeho's arms are crossed and taeyang's hands are clenched at his sides. keeho's brows are furrowed as his mouth moves, and jiung realizes that they're arguing.
jiung can't make out the words with all the ruckus and conversation going on, but he can tell that taeyang is yelling, and that keeho is laughing. the smirk on keeho's face doesn't go away and jiung wonders if taeyang finds it as annoying as he does. he tries to read their lips, catches what might be an "i hate you" or "i hate this."
keeho's hand reaches out for taeyang's arm and the latter is the one to pull away. that cracks keeho's expression, makes his face twist into something ugly that disappears in the next second. taeyang backs away from him, eyes on the ground, and looking resigned. he seems defeated and small, and jiung's nails dig into the skin of his palm.
keeho takes a step closer and says one last thing. taeyang meets keeho's gaze and something crumbles. jiung thinks he's going to walk back into his arms and tries to force himself to look away.
but he doesn't, and jiung's glad. because then taeyang is turning his head, staring at jiung, and weaving through the crowd to get to him.
jiung is still. taeyang's eyes on him means keeho's eyes on him and he can almost feel the daggers poking into his skin. so he waits for taeyang to get closer and closer until he's standing in front of jiung with a small smile.
"where are you heading after this?" he asks. his voice cracks at the last syllable. jiung feels like taeyang could disappear at any moment.
"i was going to go back to my place," he answers. "rest up." the race hasn't even ended. jiung was thinking it would be the yangju kid this time.
"that sounds nice. let's go." then taeyang moves past him, to the line of vehicles, and welcomes himself to the passenger seat of jiung's car. keeho is still staring and jiung forgets how to move until he hears taeyang say, "jiung, aren't you driving?"
so jiung, who has always wondered when desire overlaps with love, and when that curiosity would get the best of him, sits behind the wheel, and does.