Archive of Our Own

No Alarms:

The cafeteria was half-filled with murmurs and a few clatters of tray on the metal counter as Junmyeon queued to get his first meal of the day. He brought his hand to pull down his black bonnet lower, tucking his fringes inside, when he felt the auntie behind the counter staring at him like he had grown another head. Once he had gotten his order and his change, he gave the old woman a pursed smile and settled in the table on the far end, the one less preferred by the other students because it was near the window and very much light years away from civilization. The center area was basically the source of everything you could find in his university—gossip; notes and assignments duplicated; sometimes, if you’re lucky, pot; and of course, popular students—but Junmyeon wasn’t into much of those. He used to be, but he had been in the uni for quite a time that he could call himself rather old to be engaging in such frivolity.

A ping sounded from his pocket and a message from someone named (´-﹏-`)❤ in his contacts popped up when he opened his phone screen.

did u sleep well? did u eat ur breakfast?

Junmyeon smiled as he tapped to reply.

Having my brunch right now mom :P You?

He had just shoved another spoonful of his meal when his phone pinged and lit up beside his food tray.

i had 2 study 4 a long quiz. egg toast & o.j! \o/

A rather light breakfast for the other to be this energetic, he mused, but he knew it was the sleep-deprivation talking. College life was full of those moments, a banality to them to be exact that it wasn’t as surprising as one thought it would be. He was yet to key in his reply about having a heavier meal later in the day, basically loads of advice regarding self care, when another message came in. This time, it was from ❢ with a ‘◁✾ ✾✿’ content.

“You got 2B’s message?” a deep, nasal voice asked as a thick ream of reading material was unceremoniously dumped across him. Junmyeon nodded as he looked at Jongin who had his all-nighter face on—dark brown hair which seemed to have an intimate affair with his hands, puffy eyes which yearned for sleep and lips slightly open where yawns were tamed at the back of it. “You coming?” And finally, as if Junmyeon was expecting it, the younger ended the inquiry with a yawn.

“When did I ever not go?” he answered, shoving the last spoonful of the rice meal into his mouth. His mind wandered back to the coded message he received earlier. It was from 2B, a guy who was organizing car races in the area on a fortnightly basis. The event was an illegal one and that was why announcements for the time and which track the racers would be using were sent in codes. Junmyeon knew that another person, aliased Doc, was in charge of sending out the details so it wouldn’t be traceable, but he hadn’t really seen the person before. He knew just that much about the group behind the events they had been attending though he wasn’t supposed to, so he kept mum about it. Besides, there was nothing more important to him when it came to racing aside from driving and winning. The minor stuff didn’t matter.

“How’s that report of yours going?” Junmyeon pushed his half-finished cup of warm coffee towards the younger.

Jongin momentarily glared at it like it was poison and eyed him like Junmyeon forgot that he wasn’t a big fan of coffee. He was shaking his head soon, though, like making a speech about his dislike of the dark substance in the cup was a waste of time. “Submitted yesterday. This paper is a different one due this afternoon.”

“And?”

And Jongin eye-rolled at him. Prickly, Junmyeon thought but he knew that kind of pestering would get a much deserved scoff from the younger. The drive to prove anybody wrong and he was the best was what drove Jongin awake most of the time, though. And Junmyeon knew so well how to use it. “And? When did I ever not get an A or above? When will I not get an A or above?” Jongin gloated.

If Jongin wasn’t one of the top students in the Faculty of Literature, he would have punched the smirk out of his friend’s handsome face but he was and Junmyeon could only nod and laugh at the remark in agreement. Seeing that the guy was focused across him, he was tempted to grab his books as well and read, but he already had plans to go to the library later and study there. Jongin could use some silent company for another half an hour and Junmyeon chose to reopen the message thread in his phone from earlier to while the time with. Surely, another message from (´-﹏-`)❤ came in.

n d middle of my bio class bt im thnkn of food (´-﹏-`; ) what r d meal sets there?

Set A: Bibimbab Set B: Seolleongtang. I got A. he replied.

how come m uni’s cafeteria menu seems apologetic (´-.̫ -`; )

Not my fault you don’t go here.

fight me ٩(๑`^´๑)۶

It was rather tempting to reply with just an XD or a lol but he knew it was too early for him to be teasing and provoking the other. He locked his phone and chose to observe around, eyes traveling from one occupied table to another, fleeting as to not get caught staring as it was rude to be doing so. The center area tables were starting to be filled and in one of them, a lanky girl with long hair and pretty face was talking to her friend. Her gaze soon fell briefly on Junmyeon’s table.

“Jung Soojung looked this way,” he told the younger. Too bad Jongin was slumped in front of his readings.

“And?” Too bad Jongin was this dismissive.

“You should talk to her.” His suggestion was soon met with a hard stare. Junmyeon could only sigh as Jongin’s liking was rather obvious but his friend wasn’t doing anything about it. The younger’s aggression towards his academic performance was surely, as how Junmyeon had come to conclude, inversely proportional to the matters of his heart and libido.

“I guess she could look this way the same way I look her way,” Jongin shrugged, piling up his papers and stuffing them into his folder. “I gotta go. Smell you later, hyung.” And the younger was out before Junmyeon could say anything more.

After school, Junmyeon headed straight home and cooped himself in the garage. He could appreciate some helping hand as he tuned his car, but he knew he wouldn’t get any. He wasn’t alone at home, per se, but his older cousin was a recluse and would fight anybody who would dare enter his room without any reason.

There was only one acceptable reason for Junmyeon to be seeing the older, and that would be to report of the race’s result because Minseok was still their team leader; though it was only Junmyeon who was racing in behalf of the team recently. And since the race was yet to happen tonight, his audience with his cousin was surely unwelcome. He chose to work on his car silently; the repetitive action of wrenching bolts tighter emptying his mind to a state which had him finishing his task faster.

The 120 square-feet bungalow with a sizable garage was his parents’ but since the two were always out of the country for business, Junmyeon decided to share it with his cousin and their two close friends years back when they were starting in uni. It was through family relations that the four of them got together—they were those curious kids wrecking havoc out of boredom during family parties while the adults were busy chattering—but it was their love for cars (and eventually racing) which brought them closer.

It was already past seven and the sky was already indigo when Jongin stumbled into the open garage and went into the house, mumbling an acknowledgment as Junmyeon reminded him to eat dinner first before going to sleep. Silence resumed as Junmyeon set aside his toolbox and prepared his cleaning tools.

There was some bumping on the wooden floor after a while, a sigh and soon Jongin’s puffy face was peeking from the door.

“Did you fall asleep on the couch?” Junmyeon asked and the younger answered with a pout and a nod. “Then what are you doing here? Go get your butt into your room before you fall asleep there standing.”

Jongin was fighting hard to open his eyes, squinting but never moving from his place. “Hyung, sorry, I can’t go with tonight,” he said.

“It’s okay Jongin. You really could use some sleep.” Junmyeon dismissively waved his hand but the other remained hovering near the door.

“It is I, the greatest,” entered the voice as its owner slumped into the ratty couch at the corner of the garage.

“Sehun will be going with me, don’t worry,” he assured Jongin who refused to budge from his place.

“Of course. Banned people aren’t allowed in the track, in case you’ve all conveniently forgotten,” Sehun snarked which Jongin answered with a frown.

“You’re also banned from racing, you know?” the second youngest returned and walked off.

The youngest only shrugged like a small kid trapped in a twenty-one year old’s body and rolled his eyes, muttering, ‘Like I would let Junmyeon-hyung go there alone’.

“Sehun,” Junmyeon intoned.

“It’s his fault why we’re off the track anyway.”

“We’ve talked about this. It’s not Jongin’s fault.”

“Then whose?”

It was not just Jongin’s fault anyway. Junmyeon had a share of it, and he could have just said no that day and sat behind the wheel instead. And it was Minseok’s decision to not allow the two to drive yet because they wouldn’t want that small incident to happen again—which of course made Jongin and Sehun antsy, but the scar on his forehead was enough of a reminder for him to heed their leader’s advice and race for the team instead.

Sehun pushed himself off from the seat and headed towards the house, pausing a while to reach out and ruffle Junmyeon’s head, making the bonnet Junmyeon was wearing to fall. And the same was the case for the younger’s jaw upon landing his gaze on his head.

“You’re seriously not taking it seriously.” Sehun frowned and Junmyeon could only peevishly smile at him. “It looks good on you but this is a big joke. I’m out.” Without further regard, the youngest strode into the house.

“Hey, I’ll be driving out in a few,” he called after.

Sehun just slid the screen door close and briefly spared him a glance. “I’m hungry. You can wait.”

Sighing, he straightened and fished his phone out from his pocket, wanting to double check the message 2B sent them earlier. Track two at eleven. He was yet to get to the thread when his phone lit up again.

did u miss me?

As expected.

A lot :*

do i get to c u soon?

A grin etched on his face as he tapped in his response.

Maybe

Half an hour before the race, almost all the people needed for the event, including the spectators were already there. The typical pre-staging setting where people have a bottle of cold beer in one hand and a stick of either a cigarette or a joint tucked in the fingers of the other. Since Junmyeon would be driving later, they decided to stock his glove compartment with small canned tea before heading to the track.

Sehun was leaning on the hood of his car while Junmyeon chose to stand next to him, holding small talk as they both scanned the area for the Monkeyz, the team they were racing against tonight. It wasn’t much difficult to locate the duo and their groupie, though, as Junmyeon only had to find the shocking pink Dodge Challenger which was driven by one of them. Booming laughter was soon overpowering the general noise of the open area and Junmyeon eyed the tall guy with the huge eyes and wild red hair on the other end of the strip of parked cars—Rust was his name, or at least that was his name in the racing scene as it was better than giving your real name in such an illegal affair. The name rather befitting the guy, if someone would ask Junmyeon, as Rust was nothing but a mass of gangly limbs and awkward movements which really needed some oil. Although he’d give credit when it came to driving, because even though Monkeyz was notorious for being a reckless lot, Rust was the more careful one compared to his partner.

Speaking of whom, Junmyeon was now staring at the relatively smaller person cackling next to big guy. He must have been too obvious, for Rust nudged the guy and nodded towards their direction. A head of wavy dark hair turned and crinkled eyes were soon on his way, Junmyeon saw how the laughter was briefly suspended as their gazes met, until Ramyun, that was the impish guy’s name, looked away like nothing happened.

“Look at him go ugly,” Sehun said under his breath, his eyes on the Monkeyz and either referring to Rust or Ramyun. Junmyeon didn’t bother to know since his friend was rather judgmental to a fault.

Or he could make a wild guess that it’d be the latter. Ramyun was usually pitted against Junmyeon and to say they were getting along well in the name of sportsmanship was a lie. The guy could play dirty, and he was mainly the reason why Junmyeon had to wear a bonnet all throughout the day and maybe in the coming days, or maybe in the coming weeks, just to cover his China rose-colored hair.

A dark Corvette was soon rumbling past them, a rather unfamiliar coupe in the scene and Junmyeon’s attention along with the other people were on it. Sehun whistled at the shiny car. “I do hope the driver’s as gorgeous. But that is always some wishful thinking.”

“You do remember Minseok-hyung’s The Butcher is one, don’t you?” Junmyeon chuckled.

“Minseok-hyung’s out of commission until further notice. I’m talking about current Corvette owners and drivers.”

Maybe it was the new recruit the Monkeyz were talking about, he thought as he watched the newly arrived car park in the open space across them, next to other Chevrolet models. At least the car was friendly to its kind. Or maybe the owner of it was just having a case of obsessive compulsiveness.

“Hey Lasagna!” the younger shouted, “Is that the new cage mate of yours?”

Junmyeon threw Sehun a quizzical look, wondering who could he be raising his voice at, and the latter just shrugged. “The hair’s no longer as curly as ramyun, right?”

Ah, Ramyun. Sehun should be rewarded for his creativity. And logic.

There was only a confused look on the guy in question, though, and his gaze followed theirs as they curiously watched the Chevy Corvette. “No, don’t think so,” he concluded.

“Maybe Lasagna just looks stupid most of the time and he doesn’t know his own team mates.”

That was low and Junmyeon just had to throw the younger a glare.

“No amount of glaring would lessen my distaste for the guy, hyung.”

“Sehun,” he warned as he’d rather not be subjected to Sehun’s rhetoric regarding the person before the race. Good thing the younger chose to shut up and raise his hands in surrender. And soon, the world was some kind of offering them to make up when they both took a sip from their can of tea which launched them both to banter about who followed who first.

Getting stared at past the comfortable time allowed made Junmyeon anxious. People’s eyes were on him when he got out of his car earlier but they were already there for more than thirty minutes; and people’s attention on something would only last for about ten to fifteen. He was about to ask Sehun if he grew another head but the best answer he could possibly get from the younger would be a confirmation and how ugly it looked. There was also the option to follow external cues, other people’s body language, and after a few seconds of squinting and deducing [he just literally followed gazes], his observation brought him back towards the Corvette and the guy, who was most probably the driver, leaning on the driver’s door. And staring at them.

Sehun softly whistled at the attention they were getting from the person. Anybody could gloat when a slim guy in slim white pants and black turtleneck with a nice face and a nice car were to be giving anybody attention. But it was the face Junmyeon knew and though it wasn’t really a bad thing, staring at a familiar face in the area brought him to another state of panic.

“Shit,” Junmyeon cursed under his breath as he turned his back towards the guy and faced the hood of his car instead, bringing his hand to the side of his face as he massaged his temple with a finger.

“What, you know him?”

“We used to race against his team. Way before you and Jongin joined.”

It was no longer funny when Sehun kept his mouth shut and studied him for quite a while. “He your ex?”

“Ha!” Junmyeon snorted. How he used to wish. For aesthetic purposes—but that was history and for another story. “He’s one of the Four Gods,” he said and soon, Sehun squawked out the two words with big round eyes.

The Four Gods was a group of racers which reigned the district back in the old days when there weren’t much laws regarding car racing in the city. Quite notorious for their strictly RGBV color-scheme—green was their leader’s identifying color, red for the second in command, violet for the third and blue for the last but not least member—but what made them be the kings of the scene was their driving prowess and specialty. Zhuge Liang, the leader, was the Drift King. Lu Xun the second-in-command was the Holeshot Emperor, Zhang He was the General of the Mountains (specializing in tōge), and Sima Yi in Figure 8s. This was back in the old times when there was still variety.

At the least, the younger knew about the racing legends.

“Why’s he here?” Sehun asked, his saltiness mixing with curiosity. That was what Junmyeon would have to find out, too.

“Hold up, wait here,” he said as he reached into his glove compartment through the nearest window and grabbed a can of tea.

“What―Are you going to leave me here?” complained the younger when Junmyeon gestured for him to stay put. “Aren’t you going to introduce me at least, hyung?” Junmyeon had to make sure that it was indeed the guy he was talking about. He himself got mistaken for a popular figure skater before and he would never take random guesses and personally make those mistakes on other people. “I look better than you, you ugly! I pray that tea’s expired like your ass!” came the shout behind him and he just had to shrug Sehun’s remarks off.

“Hey,” Junmyeon greeted the guy in the midnight blue Vette as he approached.

A bedimpled smile graced the person’s face, clearing up the unsure purse of his lips earlier. “So I was right. Been wondering why you look so familiar.”

Junmyeon nodded with a smile and offered the can of tea. “It’s been a while, Zhang He.”

“I no longer go by that name. I’m just Zhang nowadays,” the other said as he accepted what Junmyeon had offered and gestured for them to rest on the hood, instead. Zhang must have sensed his unvoiced query when the guy flashed him a knowing smile once they have settled. “Just checking how things are here,” the guy supplied, his attention on the scene before them.

“Still as protective as ever,” Junmyeon quipped and Zhang just shook his head in denial. “Will I be seeing the other gods soon?”

“Doubt it. Zhuge’s lost in Vancouver, Luxun’s busy with fam matters in Beijing and Sima’s lazing around L.A. I haven’t seen them much myself for the past five years.”

“You still call them by their race names,” he noted.

“I’m cool with revealing my identity here but I wouldn’t do the same with my brothers’ though we’re all technically retired from the scene.” Zhang leaned back; bringing his arms to support his relaxed position as he curiously looked at Junmyeon. “I was thinking you’ve retired as well when I couldn’t find your car around,” he admitted.

“I’m using a different one now,” Junmyeon said, nodding towards his Benz.

“That SL600 is yours?” Zhang asked, clearly surprised. Junmyeon kind of expected it given that anybody who knew him from way back was familiar with his then obsession with AE86s.

There was soon a series of breathy praises from the guy like ‘cool’, ‘heard the massage chair is beautiful’, ‘must be nice’ and ‘I want one’ which had Junmyeon laughing behind the back of his hand. “Not as cool as your Stingray,” he returned once he had recovered.

“I just borrowed this from my cousin. Didn’t have to do heavy mod to this one, though it’s the most stiff out of its brothers,” Zhang explained as he carefully patted the surface of the hood like a parent patting their kid during a PTA meeting. “Just enough for it to sprint like a happy kitty. And some decent paint job, of course. Mine’s back in Changsha and getting lonely in my parents’ garage.”

“Bet you could still make Hyakka bend like how you used to.” Junmyeon smiled at the memory of the shiny, purple RX-7 which he used to admire a lot.

“Enough to deliver an unruined block of tofu two mountains over,” Zhang jibed.

“Nerd.”

“Well look at you, Prince Gumball.” There was an awkward silence that followed after that—mainly because Junmyeon got the Initial D reference Zhang threw earlier while the second one was unfamiliar. The guy then sighed in mock disappointment. “Aren’t you a loser. And I thought you were the king of nerds when you used to blast Cruel Angel’s Thesis in your system even during the race. Even Lu Xun was looking up to you.”

“One of the gods is flattering me.”

“It was true, though. Not sure about it still being true anymore because Adventure Time has been quite popular.” Zhang quipped and Junmyeon was tempted to throw him a friendly slap on the arm though he wasn’t sure if that really was welcome. Plus, he didn’t really want to leave any handprint on the guy’s Moschino sweater. “And you’re really gorgeous with that hair,” added Zhang, his droopy eyes on Junmyeon’s hair and then back to meet gazes with him.

The remark sure elevated Junmyeon’s self-image knowing that the person was infamous for his pursuit of aesthetically appealing things—anything less than ‘beautiful’ or ‘graceful’ was nothing. But Junmyeon had to be reminded that Zhang He (back then) called his most favorite mountain pass ‘gorgeous’ and he couldn’t help but compare himself with a road. Zhang was 'a low-key narcissist’, if Junmyeon were to word it. But not quite in the same league as Sehun although he was guessing they would get along well.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting the compliment. “You free after this?”

A dark chuckle and then a grin with a more glaring display of dimples was what answered Junmyeon. Zhang stood up and offered to throw his equally empty can of tea in the nearby trash bin. But before he left, he asked, “Is that invitation what I think it is?” And Junmyeon just had to answer with a playful smile.

What do you say to a 3some?

He quickly typed and sent the message to (´-﹏-`)❤ as soon as Zhang went away. It was nice to know the other was anticipating a message from him when he got a reply in less than ten seconds.

SHIT LOL

My old friend isn’t just handsome

“OLD” LMAO

if I win the race I’m in tonight you’d say yes

win 1st & keep safe then ill think abt it (´-﹏-`)

Well, that was easy, Junmyeon thought as he noticed Zhang returning and while he was replying to the person on the phone with a deal.

“Are you gonna race?” he asked once the guy was in earshot.

“Well if anybody’s willing to race with an old man like me,” Zhang shrugged as he returned to Junmyeon’s side.

“If anybody’s stupid enough to try to beat you,” Junmyeon supplied as a correction for the previous statement which had them both smirking.

“Stupid enough,” jibed Zhang as he eyed Junmyeon from his car, a hand on the wheel while his free arm was resting on the open window. They had just finished with the burnout and were lining up for staging.

“Not alone in this, mate.” He grinned towards his senior and looked at the guy at the other end of the line, in the pink car with an equally open window next to Zhang’s. If he was being stupid, might as well rope in another in the predicament.

Both their attention on their wavy-haired opponent was soon acknowledged as the guy turned to look at Zhang and started talking to him. A small smile was on the person’s lips. “I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name.”

“Cut him some slack, Ramyun,” warned Junmyeon.

Contrary to the warmth Ramyun was sending Zhang’s way, something akin to almost nothing was thrown back towards Junmyeon. A look of disinterest maybe, and a light scoff, with, “I’d say you just want all of my attention, Fox.”

That surely niggled. Then there was Zhang’s confused look on his face like the thing he had considered gorgeous, say an inanimate one, had just talked back to him—most likely because of the sobriquet Ramyun called Junmyeon. Zhang knew him as ‘E’ back when he and Minseok were still a duo called ‘W’ and was racing against the Four Gods. Now he and his car were going by the name Fox; though the team name was retained. He’d have a lot of explaining to do regarding the re-branding, and Zhang wouldn’t need that, so he explained about Ramyun’s penchant on being incorrigible instead. “He bets every race aside from the usual and it’s almost all the time something really embarrassing. And weird. Just ignore him,” he told the guy in the Corvette.

“Weird?” Zhang asked, looking to and fro between them. His position, with his car being in the middle, made it easier for him.

“I kicked his stinky ass last time that’s why he got that hair,” said Ramyun dismissively. “Not a big deal.”

“I like your kind of weird.” The literally middle man smiled and Junmyeon could only hold the side of his head because of an impending doom. “I’m Zhang, by the way. And you are? Marshall Lee?”

“Pleasure. I’m Ramyun. Unfortunately, I don’t come from the Nightosphere.” Zhang chuckled to the reference while Junmyeon mutely observed from the side. The literal side. “Though my primary mission is to make that guy’s life miserable,” Ramyun added and Junmyeon had to agree to the injustice. “So Zhang, what would your wager be?”asked the wavy-haired guy soon.

“What is allowed, I wonder?”

Ramyun hummed for a while, thinking. “So far, Fox there got five piercings, a hair color and some tattoos. But it’s due to his cumulative loser points; around ten loses, I believe.” Junmyeon had to clarify that those were five pairs of piercings, a bleached then colored hair and countless trips to the tattoo shop for three tattoos which were like a triptych covering almost half of his back with nine loses.

“I work in the airways so I can no longer do much mods―company regulations. And I don’t think I still have enough skin left for one,” Zhang admitted, pulling down a side of his turtleneck to reveal skin above his collarbone colored with dark red outlines and dark blue ink. It was more fun to witness Zhang’s colorful ink back then, when the guy would race in a tank top and he’d look like he was wearing two layers of clothing because of the lacy red ink patterns on his pale skin. Junmyeon wasn’t expecting the senior driver would have it filled. But it had been five years since they had last seen each other, and Zhang was surely someone who didn’t leave any projects of his unfinished.

“Are you flying up there?” Ramyun curiously asked, breaking Junmyeon’s reminiscing. He was about to shake his head but soon realized he wasn’t the one being asked.

Zhang answered with a nod, then, “Flying a triple-seven.”

Junmyeon was talking to the guy earlier but he just knew of this. He thought Zhang became focused with his team in underground business when they left the racing scene, as that was the rumor back then, but not the fact that the person had become a pilot for some airline and been flying a Boeing fucking 777. Again, it had been five years.

“How about Big Mac? I’ll treat whoever wins this race to Big Mac after this,” Zhang decided.

“If the Big Mac comes with a Happy Meal, deal,” agreed Ramyun who hadn’t lost the glint in his eyes after seeing Zhang’s ink and hearing about his occupation.

“Okay,” answered the good-looking pilot-by-day-illegal-guest-street-racer-by-night and turned to Junmyeon’s side. “You cool with that?”

A bit surprised of the sudden attention but had to play his cool, he shrugged to the unfairness of everything. The bastard lasagna-hair sure cut his old friend some slack. “So what’re you gonna claim if you win?” Junmyeon coolly asked, keeping the conversation rolling and pretending his ego wasn’t bruised.

“I don’t know―” the senior trailed off and it was easy to note when an idea had crossed his face with how it lighted up his features. “I get to bring the both of you out for dinner?”

“You meant a Big Mac group date?” Ramyun cackled derisively. “That’s the most. brilliantly. disastrous suggestion I’ve heard in a while!” Those weren’t sparkles in the guy’s eyes, Junmyeon noted. Nope. “Meant no offense on that, Zhang; I think we should do that. Fox, you in?” followed-up the person and finally noticing that Junmyeon was actually with them.

“Sure, why not?” he answered without looking at the other and focusing his gaze on nothing in particular instead.

Sure they’d still get to order Big Mac after the race; he said when he was asked his turn for the bet. But the sorest loser would order in his birthday suit. At least the other lesser loser would still get to keep his underwear in the passenger seat. All was fair in war and Big Mac.

“What’s the grumpy face for, gramps?” Again with the niggling voice from his left.

Suppose Junmyeon was the least bit affected. He just shook his head as he smirked, bringing his right hand to rake through his hair as he threw a conniving look towards his opponent. Of course, he didn’t forget to up his game by dragging his tongue across his lower lip. And it worked like magic as Ramyun’s earlier mocking grin hardened on his face only to be broken by a minute twitch of a cheek. Suppose Ramyun was the least bit affected but he knew better.

Tinted windows rolled up as the owner of the pink Hellcat threw Junmyeon the finger as a good luck sign.

Warmth pulsed within Junmyeon as he stepped on the gas and clutched on the gear shift at the drop of the handkerchief. The steady rumble of his Benz grounded him as he gained momentum and started to let it fly across the track.

He and Ramyun had an advantage for starting early, but Zhang He’s dark blue pet monster was soon biting each of their car’s back end—its angry growl fighting the seemingly offended snarl of Ramyun’s cat on the other side.

His fox wouldn’t let things go on like this, though.

On the two-third mark, a U-turn sign flashed ahead in LED as the announcement for the current race’s challenge. Time loop. Drag a strip and return once all tires touch the line on the other side.

It’d be lit if it were to be only two cars on track because there’d be enough breathing space to maneuver but he doubted it’d be possible with three no matter how confident he was with his opponents’ driving skills.

Not to mention, there barely were any lead between them three. Each was biting the others’ head off and he could hear 2B’s screeching on the radio. He was able to zone out from the announcer’s voice before but not this time.

Stingray getting some head on by three inches. The rest of the boys are fighting for his attention—

What the fuck 2B. As if he’d let any of the two get ahead of him. He changed gears and stepped on the gas harder. Until the Hellcat started stuttering a few yards away from the turn point and Junmyeon started to have a bad feeling about it.

Seems like the Cat’s choking on some fur ball—

When his Benz and Zhang’s Vette left the other behind after a few seconds, Junmyeon just knew. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FuckRamyunwhatareyoudoing—

The electric pink Dodge glided past its lane and curved in full throttle, screeching behind them. Ramyun behind the wheels quickly caught his oversteer—his arms quickly steering in opposite direction of his initial turn—and sent his car doing a full 180-degree drift, making all of the Hellcat’s tires touch the luminous line on the asphalt in its turn.

Whoa... whoawhoawhoawhoa

Ramyun reversed a tiny bit, being his compulsive self, and in that briefest of moments, managed to draw down his window, smirk and drive off while flipping them a finger.

Even the Stingray was stunned at the literal turn of events that it was left halting on its track, drift long forgotten.

Hahahahaha! The seniors have been played! This is youth, folks. This is youth!

Junmyeon refused to eat dust from the wake of Ramyun’s stealing move, though, not stopping as he drove past the line to turn and avoid nicking Zhang’s car.

The other seemed to have gotten over the shock soon as Junmyeon saw how the guy’s smirk, through lights and shadows and some dramatic moment brought about by the world of racing, turned a notch playful, Zhang’s renowned sinkhole on his face eating his right cheek, when he happened to catch their gazes together during Junmyeon’s drift.

It was just then, that he was reminded that when it came to Big Mac dinner invitations, it was always serious when it was one of the gods offering. Zhang stepped on the gas and let his car roar back to life.

Recovering from a bout of arthritis, we have the Stingray catching up—

Without turning. Junmyeon was grinning hard by now as he competed fender-to-fender with Zhang, the senior sprinting the second half of the track trunk-first.

Lit! Fuckin’ lit!—

Junmyeon didn’t notice whether the transmission got cut or he finally succeeded in tuning out 2B but he sprinted hard for the last few meters, not caring about the world as long as he could get his Benz more than halfway past the Chevy. Just a few more. Shit, just a few more, he told himself as he was close to letting his car fly and barely noticing the blur of pink on his right.

In the end, he still lost to Zhang and came out second. Second. Because Ramyun, who was supposed to have won, had his Dodge breaking down just a few meters away before the finish line. Junmyeon didn’t want to think it was deliberate, judging from how Rust the giant kid flicked Ramyun’s forehead for losing in such a dishonorable manner, so he easily let it pass.

In the end, he still lost to Zhang. He got lots of Big Mac [not just a Big Mac], fries and drinks via Drive-thru from the senior, enough to feed a family of six and leave his Benz smelling like a McfrickinDonald franchise, before they called it a night. The guy even left him some self-care and self-love advices before they go on their separate ways.

Ramyun wasn’t able to join them due to a prior commitment which was really a good thing for Junmyeon. It was enough to leave him smiling for a while, because it was nice to be taken care of like a junior from time to time, until he noticed Sehun’s silence in the passenger seat. He knew. He was a disappointment.

I still lost was his message before he left his seat to open their garage.

then theres no 3some 4 u aww

but dont b sad bc well get 2 c e othr!

That was enough to send him chuckling.

Junmyeon had not even gotten past his first word for the older tonight, a simple ‘hyung’ as soon as he closed the door to his cousin’s room to talk, when a fist met his face, the impact sending him to the floor on his backside. His left cheek throbbed in pain as the rest of his body quivered in shock.

Deft hands were soon pulling him up and throwing him to the side, the corner of Minseok’s wooden drawer hitting his back and almost knocked the consciousness out of him.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” snarled the older as Junmyeon braced himself for the onslaught of heavy blows. He curled on himself in the corner, making himself as small as possible as Minseok’s punches landed on his arms, his shoulders, his face, while his kicks met his shins and a side his thigh, up his hip. “If you’re going to be a fucking loser then you shouldn’t be there in the first place!”

Tears started to well in Junmyeon’s eyes as he repeatedly apologized, accepting his cousin’s shower of ‘useless’, ‘go to hell’ and an array of curses one would never hear from the guy on a good day. Junmyeon knew he deserved this. It was his fault. And he could only swallow his tears as he once again begged for Minseok’s forgiveness. “Minseok-hyung, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry—”

With a hard pull on his collar, which was by now stained darker with specks of red, Junmyeon followed his hyung’s tug towards the door. His legs were still wobbly from their talk, though, and when the action was followed by a shove to the outside, he didn’t manage to keep his balance and crashed towards the wall in the hallway. “Don’t show your face to me again,” gritted the older, seemingly discontented with their small talk with how his knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists on his side.

Junmyeon’s fresh batch of apologies was drowned by a hard slam of the door and the ensuing silence of the night in an instant, his body still trembling, heart in his head as his temples and the cuts he got throbbed in sync with each beat, each step he took away from the hallway. Then there was a strong buzz from his jacket’s pocket.

From: (´-﹏-`)❤
r u still dropping by?

A pair of eyes greeted him from the sofa as he approached the small living room of their house, a clink of metal into porcelain soon followed in the silence, then porcelain on wood right after. “Bad very early morning, hyung?”

He smiled and shook his head, leaving the answers in the comforts of the darkness and silence. “Did we wake you up, Jongin?”

“My eyes opened on itself,” the younger said and stood up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, his empty bowl going with him. “Hyung?”

“Hm?” he absently hummed as he typed a reply to the most recent message.

Be there in a few

“Sometimes——Most of the time I hope I could be blamed as much, too.”

The sound of the running tap then punctuated the awkward silence. Junmyeon wanted to answer that sometimes, he wanted to put blame on Jongin, too. But he knew he could never. Not when the younger would look at him like Jongin trusted Junmyeon with all his life, dreams and nightmares, like how Jongin was looking at him now.

“Hyung, if I—“

“Your hands are still dripping,” he pointed to the floor and reached for the keys on the counter. He knew where the conversation was going and he’d rather cut it before it’d send Jongin whining and then a prissy Sehun calling it out for cutting his sleep because it tended to happen. It was always a chain-reaction when it came to the two. “I’ll just go get some fresh air and will be back later.”

The trip to the other’s apartment should take around an hour on foot or fifteen minutes by car. It took Junmyeon two to complete—one was spent loitering in front of a convenience store after purchasing a pair of green bottles of alcohol on sale and some lights, washing down the pain and blowing off the thoughts outside, next to a garbage can; and another one was used on fighting a drunk salary man who bumped into him, blamed the action on him, shoved him and cursed him.

It was the insults coupled with a few slaps on his face which struck a nerve and he didn’t think twice in replying with a good punch on the person’s jaw. This sure shut the stranger up, and so were the person's other two companions who were goading him a moment earlier. Fulfillment wasn’t there yet, kissing Junmyeon’s knuckles, and to get it, he dragged the guy who had fallen on the pavement towards an alleyway and slapped the person’s face with his backhand without blinking to even out the bastard’s then swelling cheeks.

Junmyeon hated violence. His hands would shake and he’d be overcome with guilt even before he’d opt to take any violent reaction. But mercy was never for those who incited it in the first place—unless he deemed himself worthy of it (as with his cousin’s case).

The person burst into tears, begging pathetically to be let off. Adults should learn being responsible, Junmyeon thought, but he was too tired to do a lecture so he opted to land a punch to the gut instead and a kick to the person’s side to bid the stranger good night. Seniority be damned.

To think he considered himself a pacifist. He scoffed at the idea as he rang the doorbell to an apartment, looking down as he worked on the knots in his throat. His face stung and so did his eyes. There was a rustle behind the door, a click and then it swung open, casting a shadow of another person on the floor.

“Junmyeon―” the worried voice gasped as fingers carefully reached out to his face. The gentleness of it hurt as Junmyeon refused to remove his eyes from the floor. Bare feet were greeting his shoe-clad ones. “What happened?”

He could only fight so hard until he was forced to look, gaze trailing up to dark board shorts, white cotton shirt, collar bones, pouty lips―and small nose. Junmyeon willed himself to stop there no matter how shaky his stare was. The eyes were the windows to the soul, he mentally chanted. He repeated until he started regretting having brought himself in that place. Reminded himself on loop how―

“Junmyeon?” another call and a pair of warm eyes were on him. He knew what the other’s gaze meant. He knew, but he would rather not put a name to it.

These eyes were the key to the floodgates of his soul. And just like that, he let the dark seep into his vision as he pulled the person closer and crashed their lips together, pushing the other inside and slamming the door behind them.

Junmyeon shoved with his hands, with his tongue. He bit and marked with his teeth and mouth. On the neck, inside the thigh, back of the shoulder. Enough to draw blood and tears. Enough to produce moans and cries. Of pain. Of pleasure. He found himself losing fast into the dark, sticky feeling of urgency and relief. And he let it swallow him.

When Junmyeon came to, he was waking up on his stomach while the same pair of eyes from earlier was staring at him. He made a quick glance towards the clock on the bedside table―4:03―and returned to gaze back at the person who might have been watching him sleep.

Fingers were soon on Junmyeon’s cheek, ghosting over the cut at the corner of his lips, the one he got from his older cousin. “Can we talk about this now?”

Jongdae’s eyes were still quite swollen and red, but his gaze never once faltered, not even when Junmyeon returned it with a cold stare and the question was answered with an equally frigid ‘no’.

“I can’t help worrying, you know,” the other softly said.

“We should talk about something else.” About the dark bite marks marring Jongdae’s skin, his personal touches, for example. But he ignored the mildly entertaining suggestion. Being funny at the moment would mean lowered defenses and the opposite was his intention.

Tense silence reigned as each of them fought with their gaze. The other’s almost begging while his was stubbornly refusing. And soon Jongdae was sighing, a sign of victory for Junmyeon, and leaning in for a soft kiss on the lips.

It was enough of a gesture for him to wrap his hand on the other’s nape to anchor his head, pulling Jongdae closer again to claim his lips.

Fingers raked through his pink hair and Junmyeon let out a contented sigh, the other’s gaze flitting on his crown with a smile. “This is pretty.”

“You like it.” Jongdae nodded and Junmyeon could only bite his lower lip, smiling at the timid admission. “But not enough to distract you last night.”

Shaking his head, Jongdae softly chuckled. “You know pretending to hate your fucking guts every time is a challenging performance in itself. And I had to focus on my boyfriend and the fact that somebody was eyeing him then.” Junmyeon raised his eyebrow because this was the first time he heard of it. “Zhang,” his boyfriend supplied.

“He’s the old friend I was telling you about.”

It was Jongdae’s forehead’s turn to be wrinkly, and in a beat, his eyes and his mouth rounded. “You wanted a threesome with me and your ex?!”

“The threesome was a joke. And Zhang was never my ex. We couldn’t even figure out what he gets off to aside from nicely paved mountain roads.”

“So, was that an attempt at making me jealous?” Jongdae frowned and he seemed like he wanted to strangle Junmyeon with the way his eyes were on his neck now.

“Was it successful?” he teased and Jongdae was forcing his expression into a neutral one, although Junmyeon noted it was failing because his eyebrows were betraying him. They were sloping towards the middle of Jongdae’s forehead and it could only be interpreted as a soft, positive emotion. “I saw him eyeing someone’s behind that’s why I had to keep him close,” he said as his hand resting on Jongdae’s waist went lower and pulled the other closer by the butt cheek.

“He was ogling my booty?” Jongdae asked in disbelief, leg hooking on Junmyeon’s hip. In an instant, he was on top and looking down on him like his butt deserved only the best throne that was Junmyeon’s stomach. There was a playful smile on his lips and Junmyeon, a grown-up person, giggled when Jongdae peppered his face with kisses.

“That’s odd,” the other trailed off, taking a break from attacking Junmyeon. “Because I was pretty sure he was staring at yours.”

“My butt?”

Jongdae nodded. “I think we now have an idea what he gets off to,” he said as he grinned and brought Junmyeon’s hands which were resting on Jongdae’s thighs behind him to make a point.

Appreciating the gesture, Junmyeon smiled and gave his boyfriend’s butt cheeks a firm squeeze. “Innocent until proven guilty,” he muttered before Jongdae leaned in again, laughing and claiming his lips.

The team wasn’t racing in the next fortnight and that meant no contact with Jongdae for another month. It was Junmyeon who suggested it’d be better if they keep the relationship to themselves since the Monkeyz was already in a shaky credo being rumored to be connected to the organizing body of the racing event. What more if people were to know that he, a quite known opponent of Ramyun, was going out with his supposed enemy? It would seem like everything was a set-up, from losing to winning (although it wasn’t really the case), and Junmyeon didn’t want that to happen.

It was a pain sometimes, though, for Junmyeon had rather gotten attached to his boyfriend no matter how unattached and indifferent he was in the relationship as he painted himself to be. On random times, he would be tempted to just forget about their secret; ask Jongdae to go out with him when the weather was nice, bring the other on a normal date, perhaps; or even getting to call his boyfriend with his real name and not pretend they hate each other during races.

But there was something stopping him and he could not explain the tugging, uncomfortable feeling. This was why he suggested it in the first place.

f i ask u on a date wud u go w me?

Junmyeon was working on a problem set when Jongdae’s message came in. It was pretty obvious their want to be just out and having a nice date together was mutual. And it could be considered a pretty nice idea. But he still replied with a no.

but its outside of seoul!

There were soon a couple of pings and he willed himself to ignore it and focus on his work instead. But his self control only lasted him for a minute or two, after finishing one problem and he was swiping his phone open.

nbdy shd kno us there

come w us 2 siheung! bbq! beach!

He frowned and rested his head on his desk. If this were Jongdae’s idea of a nice date then he had to pass. There was also the ‘us’ which meant Junmyeon was the plus-one. And he really wasn’t keen on getting friendly with Rust—he didn’t dare ask Jongdae the guy’s real name though he knew his last name was Park—and the rest of Jongdae’s friends, through such situation. If Jongdae meant his own family by that, then all the more reason for him not to.

dnt u wnna hv sme sex on d beach? ;-)

Pushy, he thought as he read the message which came after a while. Jongdae was kind of adorable when he was desperate like this, though. The thought itself that the other wanted to gamble with the risk of them being caught together was already appreciated. Junmyeon wanted to be swayed, but he knew he shouldn’t be.

The drink? No thanks, he replied.

(´-.̫ -`; )

He groaned after seeing the emoticon. His boyfriend just had a knack of using the virtual expressions to his advantage. Junmyeon couldn’t even figure out if it was Jongdae’s inborn talent or something he had acquired while growing up. But surely it had some effect on him. Or maybe Junmyeon just liked to note all the expressions Jongdae would have on his face that the virtual ones sent by the other his way were enough of a reminder to him.

I appreciate the invite, but we already had this talk

Was it natural to feel bad after sending his reply? He knew the other meant well. Maybe if he’d explain, the other would understand.

And I don’t like big bodies of water

A sigh left him when he put down his phone and pushed himself out of his desk, padding his way outside his room. As usual, the house was silent except from the muffled voices of people from Minseok’s room. The older must be watching a movie, judging from the random orchestral music which played after some dialogue.

Junmyeon headed to the kitchen and found Sehun stooping before the fridge.

“One day, it will all come back to you,” he warned and the younger flinched at his words. Sehun, though, was too busy robbing some bites from whatever food he didn’t own and didn’t bother to turn and greet him.

“Don’t think so,” the other answered with his mouth full. “I love myself and Jongin loves me so everything’s forgiven.” Sehun was soon leaving the fridge alone and leaning on the counter, bringing out the cup of custard he had been wooing behind Jongin’s back since earlier.

“Remember when you ate his cup of custard before and he almost threw the fridge at you?” There was a non-committal hum behind Junmyeon as he filled his mug with water.

“Remember how he broke his arms when he tried lifting the fridge? That was ugly,” Sehun returned.

“I remember how you just watched him.”

“I don’t do well with angry people.”

“You were just watching him while eating his custard.”

“I knew you and Minseok-hyung would be able to restrain him. You guys love me.”

They sure were able to stop Jongin but that was because a loud crack of snapping bones was already heard and Minseok was already taking the fridge away from the younger to put it down while Junmyeon tried to console Jongin who had started crying and dialing for an ambulance. This was years ago, when the two youngest were still in high school. For sure that brought he and his cousin experience when it came to dealing with the kids.

“Sehun,” Junmyeon sighed. “You know we love you. Jongin loves you. But you shouldn’t keep on testing people like this. Apologize to Jongin and replace that custard you ate without permission.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Sorry?”

“Testing people? Even you do that a lot, hyung,” Sehun said as he threw the empty plastic cup to the bin. Junmyeon looked at the other confused while Sehun grabbed for the mug Junmyeon was holding and drinking all the water in it. This brat.

“Really now?”

“Really,” answered the younger as he patted Junmyeon’s cheek. They both stilled when a melody started playing and it only got louder. “Surprising you still get phone calls, hyung. You might need to answer it.” And Sehun left for his room.

Junmyeon could use the advice. It had been a while since he had last heard his phone ring. And it must be from his parents. Maybe an important matter, but hopefully not something about him flying out of the country soon. To his relief, the call was from someone else.

He breathed deeply before tapping his ringing phone. “What have we agreed upon regarding phone calls?” he greeted after the call connected.

There was a pause on the other line and Jongdae’s weak voice answered, “Only if it’s an emergency.”

“Okay, and?”

“Of course this is an emergency!” defended the other, and Junmyeon needed not guess that his boyfriend was upset. Equally upset with him in their situation. “I made you feel uncomfortable, didn’t I? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The breath Junmyeon had been holding after answering the call was soon let out. “I’m sorry, I really can’t join you.”

“I just miss you a lot.”

“I know. Me, too.”

“Junmyeon?” asked Jongdae, followed by another pregnant pause. Junmyeon could only blame himself why his boyfriend was suddenly this hesitant around him. “Can we meet before my trip? I wanna see you,” asked the other.

That was what he was planning to suggest, too, knowing that their conversation had managed to dampen Jongdae’s cheerful mood from earlier. “Sure, baby,” he said.

A smile worked its way on his lips when Jongdae whined on the other line. He was sure he’d get a slap on the arm or a shove from a pouty, flustered boyfriend if they were next to each other. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” the other complained.

“You like it, don’t you.”

“No. It annoys me, love.”

Wait—and Jongdae started chuckling when it took a few seconds for him to react. He had to purse his lips shut, trying to fight the warmth spreading on his cheeks because of the endearment.

“Jongdae—” he warned.

“You started it!”

Now that he’d think about it, it was funny because he and Jongdae weren’t really into calling each other couple terms. “Are you happy now?” he asked, defeated.

“What do you think?”

Junmyeon wasn’t that sure of the answer to his boyfriend’s question until he got to finally see Jongdae a few days later. They just stayed in the latter’s apartment and cuddled the whole time. Jongdae was attached to his hip while they were watching a DVD; Jongdae back-hugging him all the way to the pantry when he excused himself to get water; Jongdae holding him down and forcing him to be the little spoon as they returned to the sofa to resume the movie; and at some point, Jongdae and he being caught napping by a tall man with wild red hair and a familiar face.

“Hello,” greeted Rust, looming over them, which almost sent Junmyeon falling to the floor. Thanks to Jongdae’s sloth-like bind on him, he barely moved an inch when he yelped in surprise. “Sorry, I’ve let myself in since there was no answer,” supplied the tall guy, answering Junmyeon’s unvoiced query.

“I asked him to buy us pizza,” Jongdae mumbled and after a while moved to stretch an arm. Rust caught Jongdae’s hand and squeezed it with a proud grin on his face, as if a cat let him touch its paw. Junmyeon found the friendly interaction funny and weird.

“I deliver faster anyway,” said Rust as he puffed his chest. “I hope you two are hungry. I got two extra boxes of free mojos with the order.”

Jongdae perked up and turned to the tall guy still holding his hand. “How many pizzas did you actually order?”

“Four large ones.” Jongdae was now eyeing Rust incredulously. “Wait, let me explain! You finish a box by yourself and sharing is not an option because you get angry—“

“I can share with my boyfriend!”

“Just to be safe. Okay, so I got Fox-hyung—”

“Call him Junmyeon.”

“Right. So I got Junmyeon-hyung—I’m Chanyeol by the way; Park Chanyeol—his own pizza—”

“One pizza for each of us would only be two,” groaned Jongdae. Junmyeon could only watch at the exchanges mutely.

There was a pause as Chanyeol stared at them with wide-eyes as if trying to remember something. “Ah! So there was this promo that I could get four large pizzas for the price of three.”

“And you got two free sides because of that,” Jongdae concluded.

Chanyeol nodded proudly.

“You know about us?” Junmyeon finally got to ask Chanyeol, who nodded proudly for the second time, and he soon turned to his boyfriend. “You told him about us?”

“He’s one of my closest friends. He’s supposed to know,” Jongdae answered as-a-matter-of-factly. And he could only gape while Chanyeol excused himself to bring the stuff he had brought to the kitchen.

Chanyeol had already left when it started sinking in to Junmyeon that Jongdae had told his friends about him and about them. Chanyeol seemed like a nice guy and was a good actor judging from how the tall guy acted around them during races—gassing up his partner and totally ignoring Junmyeon.

Just when the shock was starting to wear off, it was then that Jongdae raised a question which he couldn’t immediately answer: “When are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Good thing Junmyeon was given ample time to prepare his answer when Jongdae left the following day for his and his friends’ weekend getaway.

Students trickled the hallways as the bell rang for noon. Junmyeon haphazardly grabbed the pile of readings on his desk and shoved them inside his shoulder bag. “Faster! C’mon!” he heard Sehun chirp from the lecture room’s exit, the sense of urgency prominent in his voice. “We’ll run out of seats!” Junmyeon could be dubbed as one of the fastest among his peers in a race track but in the university’s lunch time jungle he might as well be tagged slower than a turtle. By Sehun’s standards. He needed to clarify that.

As he reached the cafeteria’s entrance, almost half of the seats were already fully occupied and the queue was starting to curve towards the exit. As he headed for the end of the line, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd, his eyes not wavering from the nest of hair swimming in the sea of students. “It’s Jongdae,” he whispered lowly but enough for Sehun to hear.

The younger, who was just in front of him, frowned and nodded his head towards Jongdae’s direction and with scrunched up eyebrows, asked Junmyeon. “What is he doing he—”

But before Sehun can utter another word, Junmyeon grabbed his head and motioned him to duck amongst the crowd of students, “Obviously, looking for me.”

“And why are we hiding?”

Junmyeon only gave him a look of judgment, his forehead creased and eyebrows almost meeting at the center, “So he won’t find out I’m here.”

Giggles escaped the younger’s mouth as he wiggled his way out of his hyung’s grasp, “Why am I hiding?” he said with sarcasm tainted on every word sputtered. From that moment onwards, Junmyeon knew he was in for a tough ride that day thanks to his very adorable and lovable friend. He couldn’t imagine what life would be without him.

“Hey, Lasagna, what’re you doing here?” Sehun shouted at Jongdae’s direction, choosing to occupy the just vacated table in the middle where the popular students usually hung out.

Junmyeon stole another glance towards Jongdae’s table, and when their eyes met, it was the latter who evaded it. It grated, knowing there was still some sort of misunderstanding between them and they hadn’t had a talk yet to make up. And the gall of the latter to suddenly show up in their university unannounced and then share a table with Byun Baekhyun, the rich student from the Business Management faculty who is moonlighting as an illegal car race event organizer and the secret leader of the supposedly duo Monkeyz—oops, Junmyeon might have spilled too much.

“Aren’t you two together?” said the voice who had joined them in the table. Jongin sat beside the youngest, putting his tray of food down and sent Junmyeon a questioning look.

“It was supposed to be a secret!” Sehun hissed like his little finger was scalded.

Sure, it was supposed to be a secret, but since the two wouldn’t stop talking about it, Junmyeon didn’t need to wonder of the possibility that somebody might overhear. Good thing he wasn’t popular even in their faculty.

“But yeah, I’m genuinely curious why he’s seeing Byun like this,” continued Jongin and Junmyeon could only wonder the same, although silently.

“I get it,” the youngest in their table pointed out, head nodding to himself as if he easily understood a difficult mathematical concept. “You’re just fuck buddies, aren’t you?”

Jongin stared at him, like the younger could squeeze a reaction and Sehun followed suit. There was no other way but for Junmyeon to school his features. “No,” he coolly answered.

“Hyung, you stop whatever your relationship is with that guy. We’ve been telling you, he’s nothing but trouble,” Sehun advised. Junmyeon continued to flip through his readings with his free hand. “Minseok-hyung said it wouldn’t last anyway.”

“I agree with Sehun, hyung. If he’s keeping the relationship with you a secret then that means he’s ashamed of something,” said Jongin. “Maybe even ashamed of you—”

“Stop,” he warned the two with a slam of his palm on the table and started to gather his things. The conversation was upsetting him, knowing that it wasn’t Jongdae who suggested keeping it a secret in the first place. But he couldn’t explain it to Jongin and Sehun either.

He felt eyes following him when he fled from the cafeteria, and he knew one of the pairs was Jongdae’s. It was relief though, when his boyfriend, whom he was expecting to be running after him, did not do anything. Instead, his phone pinged and it opened to a message from the other.

Im sorry for suddenly showing up

I jst wanted 2 c u

Junmyeon could only sigh and stuff his phone back to his pocket.

The next time Junmyeon saw Jongdae was on another race event where they were enemies: Fox versus Ramyun – W versus Monkeyz. There was no small talk like last time because there was no longer a middle person to connect the conversation and none of them was willing enough to start one. Suffice to say that at the end of the night, although Junmyeon didn’t lose, his time difference was so small that it could be a deuce. And that wasn’t what victory was for the team at all.

What followed after were the usual—he got punished for it, then he numbed it down with alcohol and ran to Jongdae to get some sort of reprieve. But the night didn’t end up like he wanted. Jongdae was livid upon seeing the cuts and the bruises on his body. And Junmyeon didn’t want to be questioned like this. He didn’t want to talk about it, and his evasion only niggled on his boyfriend more that they ended up shouting at each other. Jongdae was close to crying and Junmyeon felt it would be the perfect time to walk right out of the door and slam it behind him.

He couldn’t wait to avoid Jongdae in the coming days.

Avoiding Jongdae wasn’t that difficult. Junmyeon went on with his daily life and responsibilities and everything was a breeze. It only took him a couple of buttons to tap to mute the message notifications, most it from Jongdae, and also put his phone into silent mode for all the calls he chose to miss. It wasn’t easy to be in a limbo when it came to their relationship, but he’d rather have this complicated state they were currently in, than deal with all the things he had chosen to not talk about and he could not explain.

Whenever he was forced into a situation where he had to defend himself and justify his friendship with Minseok, Jongin and Sehun, he would feel like his chest would implode and his head would split. It was an awful feeling, and it didn’t help that Jongdae was always the one to bring it up. And by this time, he was already half-way convinced that it’d be better if he would just break it off with the other.

Coming back from a short trip downtown to buy food from the grocer, Junmyeon was on the road when a notification flashed on his screen and a preview of the message was displayed.

we need to talk

It was from Jongdae, and he chose to ignore it, keeping his focus on the road. When he’d get home maybe Junmyeon could schedule for them to have their final conversation.

i’m waiting at your place

Junmyeon had a double-take on the message that followed. Why would Jongdae suddenly show up at his place—another message came in but this time it was from Sehun: ‘Jongin will be racing later’.

And it didn’t take another second for Junmyeon to decide which way to go. He immediately reversed and drove fast to where his friends were.

He was nearing the mountain pass when his phone buzzed for an incoming call. Surely, he needed a distraction to calm down but seeing the name on the screen only made him more anxious. His fingers were shaking when he reached out to tap the call off, and to his dismay, he had answered the call instead.

“Junmyeon? Where are you?” Jongdae was immediately asking once the call connected. This was what Junmyeon didn’t like.

“Jongdae, sorry, I can’t right now.”

“Junmyeon―”

“We’ll talk after this okay? Just―please Jongdae not now.”

“Are you driving?” Came another question and it sounded like Jongdae was genuinely worried. Junmyeon would like to think otherwise. “Just please tell me where you’re heading,” the other said, almost pleading.

“To the race. I need to stop Jongin,” he hurriedly answered, keeping his focus on the road and on his driving.

“The track?”

“No. Not there—” he trailed off as he saw Sehun by the side of the road and waving to hitch a ride from him.

“Junmyeon, wherever you’re heading, I’ll be there. Please wait—” Finger on the end call button, Junmyeon sighed as he slowed down to let his friend in. He and Jongdae could have their talk later.

“They’re somewhere ahead,” Sehun gestured with his chin once he was settled in the passenger seat and Junmyeon stepped on the gas.

“Why did I not know about this?” he asked, a level short from screeching because of all times and of all people—

“It was Minseok-hyung,” Sehun answered. “Hyung wanted to race, but Jongin took his place.”

The string of curses that soon left him was acknowledged with silence and a shrug from the younger. He shifted gears and was running past the speed limit when he spotted the familiar white Toyota Sprinter.

The car’s open window with Jongin in the driver seat was what greeted them when Junmyeon pulled over next to it.

“Jongin, don’t do this,” Junmyeon begged.

The younger only smiled without looking at him. “Isn’t it time for us to go back to this, hyung?”

“He likes getting all the good stuff,” Minseok, who was seated next to Jongin, muttered.

“Minseok-hyung, please, stop! This is a bad idea.”

“When did my idea ever become good to you, Junmyeonie?” taunted the eldest and Junmyeon was already on the verge of tears.

“Staging’s up!” Jongin soon interrupted.

“You don’t even have anyone else to race with!” And Junmyeon was past caring whether he was getting hysterical.

Sehun scoffed like the answer was glaring before them. “We think we do,” he answered and turned to look at him.

Jongin seemed to agree when he let out a loud laugh and turned on the engine of his car and before it took off, shouted “Race you!” at them.

“You knew about this!” Junmyeon screamed at his passenger as he scrambled to start his own car and follow the younger’s.

“It’s been a while since we’re out together like this, hyung,” Sehun said, the smile on his face was serene like he was in a fucking road trip while Junmyeon was alone in his quest to madness thanks to his friends.

He lost count on how much he called out for the younger and his older cousin to stop, trying to overtake the car so Junmyeon could block them or at least slow them down. But Jongin was relentless and in a blink of an eye, Junmyeon’s car was skidding out of control, trying to avoid a collision when a truck coming from the opposite direction plowed through the white Toyota he was following when they were on a bend.

It was a lost fight with the wheel when he failed to catch the over-steer and they were spinning to the side of the road and towards the rails. A crash, followed by the smell of smoke and burnt rubber soon brought Junmyeon back to his senses. His head throbbed and his fingers only touched something sticky and warm when he tried to massage his temple to ease the pain.

And his gaze fell on the unmoving lump on his passenger seat. “Sehun?” he called as he patted the younger’s shoulder. But there was no reaction. He tried feeling for pulse, for any sign of life and it was returned with—no, he scrambled for his phone, shaky hands and sticky fingers on the cracked, flickering screen, but it was useless: no fucking signal—and then there was Jongin and Minseok—

The door to his side almost flew as he remembered; pushing himself off his seat and running, past the truck and towards the—Junmyeon swallowed a sob at the wreckage that greeted him. The hood of the car was totaled and there was smoke everywhere.

“Hyung! Jongin!” he shouted, dragging his feet forward as his body refused to move from his place, his limbs suddenly heavy and he could only fall on his knees as the tears once stinging his eyes had started falling.

He felt sick to the core and there was nothing else he could do but call for his friends—Sehun, Jongin and Minseok-hyung, the sirens blaring around him reduced to white noise as familiar arms started wrapping around him in a hug. Sehun, Jongin and Minseok-hyung, he repeated. They were the ones needing help, he pointed out. And when nobody seemed to listen, he let out a frustrated scream and tried to escape from the hold. If nobody else would help his friends then he would rather do it alone.

There was a prick on his arm when he tried to move, some hushed assurances on his ear were left unheard and soon, a wave of eerie calmness washed over him which rendered him almost mute—helpless and hopeless as he was moved away from the scene.

Away from the cars and away from his friends.

A celebration: that was their plan when they told Minseok that they’d be driving to the nearest sea during the weekend. The eldest’s thesis defense was a breeze and the smell of graduation was well on the way. It was a spur of the moment suggestion by the two youngest. And Junmyeon, although a big fan of planning, immediately agreed and offered to use his car for the trip.

The late afternoon sun filtered by the late spring clouds. Jongin was in the driver seat, grinning because he was able to convince Junmyeon to give up his post for the day. Then there was their Minseok-hyung contentedly humming in the passenger seat, with Sehun randomly singing along a few lines whenever he felt like it next to Junmyeon at the back. Next year they might be doing the same trip again, Junmyeon’s graduation as the cause for the small celebration, and, the same with his older cousin, he would stay in the academe to pursue graduate studies. And once the youngest had finished his undergraduate, they would all retire from the racing scene and ‘be boring old uncles together’ (as how Jongin put it). It wasn’t a bad plan and Junmyeon was actually looking forward to it.

But Fortune struck when they least expected it. And it wouldn’t always be the good kind. The good one happened when Jongin managed to avoid a truck which swerved to their lane due to its driver most likely falling asleep. It passed on just like that and then the bad followed right after, literally, when there was a truck following the former in its right lane. In that brief moment of relief when they escaped an accident earlier, their car was soon plowed to the side with lots of spinning, metal bumping and tires screeching.

It was shit. And Junmyeon, thinking back, wished he had died right at that moment.

He was lucky in the unluckiest way possible, though, as he woke up being dragged by his cousin outside, through all the smoke and ringing in his ears. His knees were weak, but it was Minseok who was sticky and limping as he held Junmyeon to sit him on the side of the road. It was Minseok who was snapping Junmyeon out of his stupor when his eyes trained on their car which was dangling, as if holding tight to the bent metal railings. He thought of the scenery on the side of the road on their way, a road on the side of a mountain overlooking the beautiful sea. But now it wasn’t so appealing anymore.

And all he could do was hold on to his cousin’s hand when the other made a move to go back. “No, hyung, don’t,” he croaked and held Minseok’s hand tighter.

“I have to get Jongin and Sehun out, too.”

He knew, he himself would want to save them but he shook his head and cried. He was afraid, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid that if they would, everything could turn worse. “No,” he begged. “Let’s just wait for help.”

“We are the only people who can help them now!”

“Hyung, please!”

“I can’t just stand here and leave them like this. I have to go back.”

The ringing in Junmyeon’s ears stopped as the hand he was holding gave his a firm squeeze and soon it was let go. He watched as Minseok turned to go back.

And the stillness was soon replaced by his screams when he saw how the metals creaked and whatever was below them claimed the wrecked car and three of the people most important to him.

That afternoon, Junmyeon lost three brothers in an accident.

No Surprises:

The Old Butler—that was what Jongdae called the driver when he first saw the Mercedes Benz SL600 in the race.

“He is indeed an old racer,” Baekhyun supplied, somewhat awestruck, when he noticed Jongdae staring at the car and the driver who, surprisingly wasn’t that old-looking.

“How come I don’t know him?”

“Disappeared from the scene for a few years. Left before we even started.”

Anybody that soft-looking who preferred cars with massage chairs would not last long in the racing scene. Jongdae was more intrigued why the guy chose to return, though.

“I’ll race him,” he announced after a beat of silence.

Baekhyun’s face lit up in amusement. “Are you sure about this?” he asked as if mocking him and Jongdae couldn’t let that pass easily.

The thing was, he went easy, a wee short from underestimating the newly arrived challenger. And that was his downfall. Jongdae was reminded once again, unfortunately for his noob racing heart, that victory wasn’t mainly dependent on the equipment, but also with a good balance of technique. A car for old, balding people with a decent-looking driver had just beaten his sprightly, relatively young, car and him.

“You’re from that guy’s team,” The Old Butler greeted as Jongdae, after weeks of just staring from afar, finally approached him.

He looked to the direction the guy gestured to and found Baekhyun, animatedly talking to a few of the event attendees. “No, I and that big guy are a team.” Jongdae pointed to the car nearby and to his friend Chanyeol who was laughing loudly with a couple of drivers.

The Old Butler shrugged, seemingly unconvinced. It made sense when Jongdae with another friend who wanted to remain anonymous, became rather close with Baekhyun and Chanyeol. But the friendship was beyond the racing circuit. And what went inside were pure professional, announcer-event organizer and racer interactions.

“How about your team?” Jongdae followed up, opting to keep the conversation running.

“I’m the only one allowed to race at the moment. They’re banned from the track.”

“Senior citizen probs?”

The guy smiled to that and soon clarified, “College student problems.”

It seemed like they were the same age and Jongdae inwardly hummed to the idea. “Maybe I’m just too good at multitasking,” he quipped thereafter.

“Cocky for your age, aren’t you?” Or not. The guy sounded like an old man with that kind of remark.

Jongdae still smirked, stopping himself from throwing a highly inappropriate innuendo. “I’m Ramyun,” he introduced and held out his hand.

The other accepted it with a smile. “Fox.”

“You used to look at him with loving eyes. What happened?” Chanyeol asked as he watched Jongdae mope on the hood of his car, his back facing the person he had been pining for in the past two months.

A lot happened actually. He had come to learn about Fox’ name as Kim Junmyeon and gotten acquainted with the guy’s penchant for being rough in bed. Jongdae liked that side of him as well, including the fact that Junmyeon tended to bite hard. Then there were those gentleness and softness from Junmyeon which followed in mornings-after, somehow balancing everything and Jongdae could never complain with the set-up that they were having.

Except maybe for one thing—and that was their relationship being kept a secret.

‘You’re in 2B’s team,’ Junmyeon had pointed out.

‘Bullshit.’

‘The event and organizers would lose their credibility if the others would find out. Who would want to race in a set-up?’

‘As if that matters! And we’re not rigging things.’

‘Because it matters. And you can’t stop people from thinking that way even if it’s not true.’

With that reasoning, Jongdae relented. Of course it didn’t change the fact that they were going out, albeit their meetings were limited to apartment visits in the middle of the night and phone messages.

Maybe Jongdae was averse to the idea at first, but then he found pretending during races and waiting for Junmyeon’s various expressions of containment rather enjoyable. And ruffling the other’s feathers always worked in his favor especially after races. It was definitely a win-win situation if he were to view it in a different perspective.

There was another thing Jongdae noticed about his favorite person. Aside from Junmyeon being a highly private one, the guy liked to keep secrets. It wasn’t about Jongdae losing trust, but more on the fact that he had introduced Junmyeon to his friends but the other didn’t return the favor, which somehow made his bag of insecurities heavier.

“You go to the same school, right?” he asked Baekhyun one day while they were hanging out. “Have you ever met the others?”

“Who?”

“Junmyeon’s team mates? Minseok? The two others?”

There was intrigue on Baekhyun’s face with the way an eyebrow of his twitched and his lips pursed. “Why, you’ve met them?”

“No, that’s why I’m asking,” Jongdae shrugged, feigning his curious inquiry as something like a random topic.

“We’re from different faculties so I haven’t really paid attention.” Baekhyun’s eyes were on the game he was playing on his laptop. The aggressive tapping on the keyboard was filling in the silence. “There might be a reason why he doesn’t want you to meet them, you know.”

“I’m his dirty little secret all right.” Jongdae sighed as he accepted the truth. It bothered him, of course, but the greater fact remained that he liked his boyfriend a lot. And that was more important.

Baekhyun soon reached out and pinched his cheeks. “Aren’t you adorable,” he cooed and Jongdae whined at the annoying endearment.

The next Monday, he paid Baekhyun a surprise visit in his university. And it only upset his boyfriend, who he had learned to be a consistent loner just like how Junmyeon was being during races.

It was just a slip. It was just a pinch of worry mixed into his words and his gaze when Junmyeon arrived at his doorstep with a fresh batch of cuts and bruises.

“It’s nothing.” Junmyeon brushed his inquiry off for the nth time as he was let inside his apartment.

“Do you jump into any fight you find? Your friends leave you like this?” There was only an indignant stare from Junmyeon towards the floor as usual, like Jongdae would find something out if their eyes would meet. This was a constant in all their confrontations, too—Junmyeon brushing him off and evading the topic like plague.

Jongdae was then reminded of those odd times Junmyeon was talking, mumbling a name in his sleep whenever the latter would show up beaten—Minseok-hyung. He repeated the name in his head like he’d eventually get any answers, until it clicked. Minseok-hyung—

With the way Junmyeon’s eyes rounded in fear when Jongdae looked at him, he knew he was right. And it hurt. It stung. “Those friends of yours— They did this― Those―”

“I deserve it!” The apartment shook and Jongdae could only stifle his sob while Junmyeon tried to calm down from the sudden outburst.

Jongdae shook his head, trying to understand and make the other understand. “You don’t, Junmyeon,” he said as he took a step forward.

His heart seized when the other took a step backwards, away from him. He was being rejected and he could only watch and not say anything anymore. He didn’t know what to say.

“I am not asking for your help. I’m fine and I don’t need you butting in,” Junmyeon said in the silence, turned and left Jongdae alone in his apartment.

Following the confrontation was Junmyeon’s grand evasion tactics. Jongdae was, by then, preparing for the worst—their break-up—because the way his boyfriend was ignoring his messages and calls was spelling the end of a relationship for them.

More than anything, he was angry with the way Junmyeon was being mistreated and he sought help from his own friends. It was kind of understandable when Baekhyun declined to help him, given that he had called right after Junmyeon left his apartment and Jongdae was screeching in his rage. He scoured the internet first for some information but got irrelevant results. Then he opted to let Chanyeol help—on second thought, Yeol might have less ideas than him, so the guy was out of the question. And lastly, if all else failed, he had his trusted friend, the all-seeing IT guy god of their team—Doc [though Jongdae called him by his real name most of the time].

“Kyungsoo, I need all the information you can get on some people,” Jongdae started as soon as the call connected.

There was a constant whirring noise in the background. “Get to the point,” said a cool voice.

“Food delivery of your choice for a month.”

“Three meals a day?”

“Yes.” Because Jongdae knew that no matter how much of a recluse their friend was, Kyungsoo was an epicurean when it came to food.

“Names,” was Kyungsoo’s abrupt answer and Jongdae threw his fist in victory.

“Kim Minseok. Oh Sehun. Kim Jongin.”

“I want Italian starting tomorrow.” There was some soft tapping and clicking and Jongdae could only wait and listen. “I’ll send the files your way later. Makes me think what kind of beef you have with these three, though.”

Jongdae shrugged, playing it cool but his blood was starting to boil at the idea that he could finally put faces to the names he had been cursing for the past few days. “High grade, apparently,” he answered. "Matsusaka? Kobe? Ohmi?"

“You’re going too far.”

“No, not really.”

“How do you even fight dead people?” Kyungsoo chuckled in amusement, as if finding Jongdae really stupid and childish. It took a few more repetition of the statement in his head for it to sink in. And then he laughed out loud.

Surely, Kyungsoo must be joking.

Jongdae soon learned Kyungsoo wasn’t into comedy when he came to check out Junmyeon’s place himself. His disbelieving mind was left mute when he found an eerily empty apartment—there were Junmyeon’s shoes, and a few of Junmyeon’s childhood pictures on the wall but that was all.

It was contrary to what his boyfriend claimed as a house where his other friends were living in, too. His snooping around might put Jongdae to jail but worry, more than curiosity, only pushed him to check every nook and cranny inside. In the end, he chose to sit on the empty couch in the garage, waiting for the metal gate to slide up and Junmyeon to return as he clasped his phone between his hands.

we need to talk

Discontented with the earlier message, he sent another, hoping Junmyeon would finally be convinced to talk to him.

i’m waiting at your place

With cold fingers, he started opening the files Kyungsoo sent him in his phone earlier that day. And read everything he did—the thing about Junmyeon’s friends, news about an accident years ago, and Junmyeon.

Junmyeon being alone. His secrets he’d been keeping from Jongdae. His fears why he refused help—Jongdae found them all out by reading the links to what Kyungsoo managed to dig. He read them all. And almost everything by then made sense.

Baekhyun must have known Junmyeon’s problem; that was why he easily brushed off Jongdae’s accusations. That git.

But Baekhyun’s lie didn’t matter much when Junmyeon’s case in itself was alarming. At the moment, he could only lament on the fact that his boyfriend was going through a lot and it took Jongdae so long to know that there was something wrong, swiping off the tears that fell at just the thought of Junmyeon hurting.

It hurt him to belatedly realize that Junmyeon couldn’t forgive himself that was why he kept on racing. That Junmyeon kept on hurting himself at any chance. That Junmyeon had made malevolent depictions of his friends with his mind, and maybe even of himself. That Junmyeon chose all what he considered as the bad options because that was what he thought himself to be, a bad person. That Junmyeon brought the bad consequences upon himself because he believed he deserved it. It hurt Jongdae to know that his Junmyeon was hurting this much.

On top of the roughness and bad choices, Jongdae could still glean a considerable amount of gentleness from the guy. Were all of those things—the soft touches, the soft gazes, the soft kisses—just for show? Not that he didn't know,he just wasn't sure, that was why he needed to talk to Junmyeon. To assure the other that he would be there to stay, to help.

His impatience soon got him when it was past half an hour and he didn’t get any response. Jongdae decided to ring Junmyeon a couple of times and there was no answer. He was close to giving up when at the last try, the call connected. “Junmyeon? Where are you?” he immediately asked, trying to tone down his worry because he knew the other didn’t like it when he was talking in this certain tone.

“Jongdae, sorry, I can’t right now,” came the abrupt answer.

“Junmyeon―”

“We’ll talk after this okay? Just―please Jongdae not now.”

Jongdae’s worry only heightened when the constant humming in the background persisted and there was a clacking sound of the turn signal. “Are you driving?” he asked, holding his breath and trying to be the calm one when Junmyeon sounded distressed. “Just please tell me where you’re heading,” he pleaded.

“To the race. I need to stop Jongin,” he hurriedly answered.

“The track?”

“No. Not there—” Junmyeon trailed off, as if forgetting he was on call.

“Junmyeon, wherever you’re heading, I’ll be there. Please wait—” And the call was cut.

He was already shaking as he removed his phone from his ear, willing away the tears and panic as he hastily raked his contact list for a name. Jongdae didn’t wait for a greeting when the line connected. “Kyungsoo, please tap Junmyeon’s car and track it. I need his location. It’s an emergency. Alert the guards while you’re at it.”

Kyungsoo had sent him the location a few minutes later and Jongdae didn’t notice how he managed to let his car fly on the road towards the outer parts of Seoul. He didn’t even know anymore whether it was Junmyeon who needed him or him who needed Junmyeon but he knew he had to find the other.

His insides suddenly hurt upon seeing a blockade when he came nearer the pass. There was a police car and an ambulance on the side. And soon, an officer was signaling for his car to slow down, directing the traffic to a single lane. Jongdae slammed on the brakes before the blockade and leapt out of his car, fighting a sob when he saw a familiar Benz with a crashed hood on a guardrail.

Another officer was keeping him away until he saw Junmyeon in the middle of the road, with two medics trying to calm him down, and that was when Jongdae ran and wrapped the other in his arms. The tears he was fighting to contain started falling when Junmyeon was inconsolable, shouting for them to save ‘them’ instead, pointing to an empty roadside. And Jongdae could only hold him tighter.

The next time Jongdae saw Baekhyun was when he only had less than two hours of sleep looking after Junmyeon when the latter was admitted in the hospital. The git showed up when Chanyeol followed to bring Jongdae some change of clothes and toiletries. There was the issue of letting Junmyeon’s parents know, but he asked Kyungsoo to handle that. And the more pressing one was how he could last in a breathing space with Baekhyun without him committing murder by strangling the other to death.

He was feeding coins into the vending machine after excusing himself and letting his friends wait in the benches outside of Junmyeon’s room when a voice from behind called him. His jaw clenched and his hands automatically found and pulled on Baekhyun’s collar, shoving him to the side.

“You knew! You fucking knew!” Jongdae gritted.

“I didn’t know it would come to this,” Baekhyun said weakly, his eyes teary. And Jongdae knew that between them, the other was the least bit of a crier. “Junmyeon-hyung just looked so alive when he was behind the wheel. I—I’ve seen him drive before. I’ve known him since way back. You’d choose the same if you were in my place. You’d choose the same if you knew.”

Jongdae’s grip on his collar loosened. “You could have at least told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

With Baekhyun’s words, he shoved the can of drink he had gotten to his friend’s hand and returned to feeding more coins to the machine to get another. He still refused to talk to the other when they returned to the bench where Chanyeol had been left earlier, but understanding came, and forgiveness followed, although it wasn't easy, when he learned from their tall friend that Baekhyun lost someone from that fateful accident, too. Baekhyun lost Minseok.

Jongdae wasn’t a family member, so his visits were limited when Junmyeon started therapy. There were various medical tests involved (one was ‘reality testing’) and lots of pills and tablets for Junmyeon to take that he could not follow.

Although he could only visit the other once every week, two months into his boyfriend’s hospital admission, he never failed to drop by every day, peeking from the small glass window on the door of Junmyeon’s room. On bad days, he’d either see the other’s bed crowded, or Junmyeon curling himself into a ball on the corner of his bed. On good days, he’d get to see Junmyeon sitting in the side of his bed and looking out on the window, or reading a book.

Luck mustn’t have run out for him when on his visit, Junmyeon was sitting on his bed and reading a book.

“Hey,” he greeted as he slid the door behind him to close. Junmyeon’s gaze followed him, closing what he was reading and putting it on the side as Jongdae approached and settled, sitting on the side of his bed.

Junmyeon was holding a book of poems. And good thing the poet’s works were something Jongdae was a bit familiar with.

“See how their veins all becomes spirit: into each other they mature and grow—” Junmyeon was all eyes on him and Jongdae pointed to the book. “It’s a poem by him. Rilke.” The other nodded weakly, as if encouraging him to continue. “I don’t know the rest of the lines, though. I only memorize the first lines of the poems I come across with,” admitted Jongdae with a smile. “You know, to impress smart guys like you.”

“Jongdae—” Junmyeon’s pale pink lips trembled while his eyes searched for the words he might have lost while he fought to keep his gaze on Jongdae. “—shouldn’t see me like this—” His soft voice was soon swallowed by the silence.

Junmyeon’s voice was the voice that Jongdae adored and just hearing it after a long while brought a happy grin on his lips. He brought his hands to cup the other’s pale cheeks and leaned in until their foreheads were touching. “You’d always be handsome to me,” he said in earnest.

“I look awful——I—feel? Awful.”

Jongdae hummed at their proximity. It had been a while since they had been this close and god, he missed this. “I understand. The doctor told me before this visit you might not be able to talk to me. I’m glad it isn’t the case, though. I like your voice a lot.”

“It’s—difficult. I want to—touch you—but I can’t? I can’t—even smile for you. Though I—really want to—”

Pulling away from Junmyeon for a moment, he reminded him, “I’ll do those things for you for now. Just give them back when you’re ready. Okay?” Junmyeon nodded at his question and Jongdae didn’t wait to hug the other so tight. “I miss you.”

“Me, too.”

“Heaps?” he asked and Junmyeon nodded. If his grin could get any wider, then that was the perfect time it did. “It is super mutual then.”

Jongdae stayed a bit longer, mostly talking about what were happening outside, like how he’d usually talk about his day through SMS with Junmyeon before and he could not help but keep on smiling when there was a weak tug on the corners of Junmyeon’s lips or a slow blink as signs of amusement. He also noticed the few times Junmyeon’s eyes darted to the empty chair, or to the window. And he knew his boyfriend was still seeing them.

Holding Junmyeon’s hand and squeezing it, he was able to regain the other’s attention. “I’m the only other person in this room besides you,” he said.

There was still a bit of denial in Junmyeon’s eyes but it was somehow a relief when he nodded, albeit in a slow kind of understanding.

Jongdae pecked Junmyeon’s lips and planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead, the latter action making Junmyeon lean in. And Jongdae was delighted. “Know that I’m real. And they aren’t,” he said, meeting the other’s gaze. “They were. But they’re no longer here.”

Another two months passed when Junmyeon had finally become stable enough to go out. Jongdae noticed the small smiles returning on Junmyeon’s lips, the light pink gradually dusting Junmyeon’s cheeks and the bit of confidence slowly holding his posture up.

“When you get out of here, where is the first place you’d like to go to?” Jongdae asked while they were out in the hospital garden one morning.

“The sea.” Junmyeon answered and Jongdae nodded for him to continue. “I used to do it often—with Minseok-hyung, Jongin and Sehun. We would drive to the sea to celebrate.”

“Then we should do that,” he said right after and squeezed Junmyeon’s hand which he was holding.

They were just kilometers away from the nearest sea when Junmyeon stirred and sleepily opened his eyes. It was not a spur of a moment thing, nor something Jongdae planned well—he just proposed the idea to his friends the night prior when he was thinking up of a decent present for Junmyeon’s birthday. He knew the said idea was good when he saw Chanyeol and Baekhyun grin and heard Kyungsoo sigh on the call audibly and defeatedly.

“Good morning handsome,” Jongdae greeted. And he fought hard for his gaze to remain on the road.

In time, Junmyeon’s confused look was answered by the GPS announcing a few more meters to their destination.

“I couldn’t wait,” he said as they neared the coast. “I need to give you the best present ever.”

There was a funny, disbelieving look on Junmyeon’s face. “The hospital allowed for me to be out?”

“Actually—nope,” he admitted and he felt daggers thrown his way by how strongly Junmyeon suddenly glared at him. “Your doctor agreed, though. But I need to return you by eight; before your check-up. Don't worry, we're not alone.” Jongdae then soon waved a hand towards the car following behind them, the black Hummer which was Chanyeol's.

Junmyeon, satisfied with his answer, leaned back in his seat and groaned. “Now I won’t be discharged sooner because of this.”

“I’d take responsibility.” And Jongdae made a mental note to kiss the pout away from his boyfriend’s lips once he had parked his car properly.

“We’re here. Just in time,” Jongdae announced as the car went to a full stop a few good meters away from the shore. The sky was still a gradient of deep blue, turning lighter towards the horizon when they arrived. In a matter of seconds, golden dots were slowly kissing and making a line to divide the sea and the sky. “Let’s head out?”

Junmyeon stiffened for a while once he was out of the car, lost in his mind, as he watched something pass by his side and his gaze following it towards the shore. His hand holding Jongdae’s loosened a bit when he tried to run forward but Jongdae anchored him, walking with him towards the water where the waves kissed the tip of their shoes.

They walked and stood before the shore together, Jongdae keeping Junmyeon’s cold and shaking hand warm. “Minseok-hyung... Jongin and Sehun...” mumbled the older, eyes fixated on the water before them.

Jongdae could only watch as tears glistened in Junmyeon’s eyes, the want to just drape his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders and pull him into hug getting stronger.

“You’ve finally brought them here.” Jongdae said, breathing in as the first rays of the morning sun shone on them, making Junmyeon’s teary eyes shine like two small pockets of diamonds. “You have to tell them everything you need to.”

Junmyeon looked at him like how a child would look when asking for permission—furrowed eyebrows and round eyes.

“They won’t be going back with us,” he continued when Junmyeon’s staring remained, his grip on the other’s hand only growing tighter when a sob threatened to escape from Junmyeon.

After a shaky breath, Jongdae could only listen and hold his ground when words started tumbling down Junmyeon’s lips. A gentle voice punctuated by soft sobs mixed with the cold morning air and the crashing of the waves. He could only look forward, to where the other was facing as tears fell from his beloved’s eyes. They shone in his peripheral vision, and he wanted to catch each and every droplet. All he ever wanted to do at the moment was hold Junmyeon close, cage him in his arms, and snatch the other’s breath with a kiss just so the latter would stop crying but Jongdae knew it wasn’t what the other needed then.

What Junmyeon needed was this personal moment and Jongdae could only stand beside him as a witness. And along with the words Junmyeon let go into the air, Jongdae said a silent promise for the other and for the both of them, watching the person most important to him cry his heart out.

“I’m here,” Jongdae said, tugging Junmyeon’s hand with his. Their gazes met and he held his beloved’s hand the tightest, bringing his free hand forward to wipe the tears which continued to fall from Junmyeon’s eyes with his thumb. “Shall we head back?” he asked in a careful voice, looking, observing, waiting for any signs that Junmyeon would want to stay a bit longer.

Junmyeon nodded and squeezed back Jongdae’s hand tight.

A grin worked up on Jongdae’s lips. He would say that it was the best answer.