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Chapter Text

a twig snaps eerily loudly under the soles of his converse, and he glances around him to see if anyone is trailing him. the rev of an engine in the near distance catches his attention, and he shoves his hands deeper into the pocket of his hoodie, tilting his face lower to the ground as he speed walks past a few more alleyways. the streetlamp ahead of him on the abandoned road flickers, desperately trying to keep a grasp on its final sparks of light before it blacks out completely.

he pulls his cap further down over his hair, blonde strands falling into his eyes.

the roar of a car’s engine brings his attention back to the world around him, and he stops dead in his tracks in front of an alleyway. it’s dark, dank, the distinct smell of smoke and gasoline wafting through the air.

ah yes, this is it. this has to be it.

crunch. a rock shifts under his orange converse, stained in a blotch on his right foot from the one time his friend had accidentally spilt orange juice on it when they were younger.

he pokes his head around the corner of the building, wary, and he coughs at the powerful smell of smoke that attacks his sensitive nose. there are cars being revved, people are laughing, drinking, the headlights of some of the nicest cars jisung has ever seen blinding him as he steps out into the light.

“oh, look what we have here, eh? fresh meat?”

he winces at the tone of voice aimed directly at him, cowers at the multiple jarring glares boring through his small frame.

“come on, jun, he can’t be here to race. he’s a fucking twig!”

they all laugh. he pulls his cap off and pulls his mask higher over his nose.

“oi, kid, shouldn’t you be at home sleeping? a little kid like you should have a curfew, you know.”
“yeah, you’re like fucking 12 or something. go home, kid. this place ain’t for kids like you.”

he winces a tiny bit more, but his eyes narrow at the men that tower over him.

“or maybe you were looking for trouble?” a man smirks, leans down into his face and grabs his chin.
“fuck off, dyke.” he huffs, tearing the man’s huge, rough fingers away with his small, delicate ones.
“oooh, we got a feisty one, boys.”

he gasps when the man grabs his forearm, fingers digging into his milky skin so hard he’s sure they’re going to leave behind some intense bruises.

“listen here, kid. we don’t fuck around here. this ain’t a playground, it’s a fucking tournament. we take this shit seriously. so i suggest you go home before you piss your pants.”

“i can assure you that i’m not going to piss my pants. i’m sixteen, not seven.”
“you’re sixteen, eh?” the man holding his arm chuckles almost sinisterly. he gulps, hopefully inaudibly. “perfect age, aye boys?”

the rest of the men laugh, and he yelps childishly, almost girly, as he feels himself being dragged forward.

from this distance, he can smell the smoke coming off of the older man, penetrating through his mask and filling his nose with a scent he hopes he never has to smell again.

“oi, jaesuk, let the kid go. now.”

he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the man steps away with a snarl from being interrupted. he rubs his arm where the man’s fingers were gripping him, thin fingers tracing over the blooming red marks against his pale skin. when he looks up, there’s a boy walking towards him, significantly younger than the other men. he has short raven hair, styled out of his face like a wave poised to break, and he’s got a leather jacket draped over his shoulders, matching the rest of his attire; a black button up tucked into midnight jeans torn roughly at the knees and across his thighs.

“and who may you be?” the boy asks him, leaning his weight onto one foot, bringing his bottle to his lips and taking a sip of whatever beverage is in there.
“han.” he runs his hand through his hair, pushing blonde bangs out of his eyes. “my name is han.”

the boy standing in front of him smiles, holds out his hand. the blonde notices the bluebird inked onto the pale skin of his wrist, the bright blue ink barricaded by lines of black, bleeding out into his skin.

“han? that’s a pretty unique name.” the boy raises an eyebrow, taking another sip of his drink.
“it’s a nickname i got when i started high school. guess it just stuck.”
“well, han—”

the boy takes one step closer, and he only now realises how tall the ravenette is next to him.

“i’m alpha, leader of the 9th district.”

oh. oh boy.

he’s heard of the man. he has eyes that glimmer gold in the sun, a voice that can soothe all your worries away, and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. yet despite all that, his eyes can deceive, his voice can lull you into a false sense of security.

and his smile? cunning behind a veil of beauty, sinister buried under a coating of kindness, danger intertwined so beautifully with grace that you won’t even be able to tell until he bares his canines and pounces.

he’s beautiful in a dangerous way, and dangerous in a beautiful way.

han gulps, but grabs the man’s hand gently in his own. the palm almost completely engulfs his hand, rough skin scratching against his delicate skin like sandpaper against wood.

“so, what brings you here, kid?”
“i…”

the blonde goes quiet for a bit, and he’s glad that the other men have gone back to their own conversations.

he still feels incredibly exposed when one man looks him directly in the eye and smirks.

“i wanted to see what happens at these meets.”

the ravenette raises an eyebrow, blinks, wets his lips with his tongue. han realises now that the boy has a nose piercing.

“well, why don’t i show you?”

han watches as the corners of the male’s lips curve up into a gentle smile, yet somehow teasing at the same time. he drops his hand, fiddling with the cuffs of his hoodie, the sleeves running miles past his fingertips.

and, like the idiot he is, he nods, falling into the pit that is alpha’s voice, drowning in its sweet melody, suffocating from lack of air when his beautiful smile steals it away from his lungs.

Chapter Text

“jisung? why are you home so late?”

he hears his mom call from the kitchen of their small, two-storey home on the corner of a street he’s come to know like the back of his hand.

“i was hanging around felix’s for a bit to study,” he calls back, silently praying that she can’t hear the lie under his words.
“ah, that’s good, honey! glad to see you’re finally trying to get your grades up.”
“i need to get into college somehow.” he snorts, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie as he walks into the kitchen, standing on his tippy toes to reach the cups in the top cabinet.
“what’s that?” his mother asks him, bumping a cupboard door closed with her hip and pointing at his hoodie, where black and grey are smeared across the mustard yellow fabric.
“i ran into some dude that was smoking outside of school and he got ash all over me.”

okay, honestly at this point he should be given an award for telling the smoothest lies with the straightest face.

“are you lying to me?”
“no!”

jisung thanks the lords that his mother is gullible enough to take it as an answer without further questions.

what he’s not thankful for, however, is the tall thirteen year old jumping up onto his back and yelling ‘yay! jisung’s home!’.

“oh my god— jeongin, you’re not a kid anymore, you’re heavy!” jisung gasps, but hitches the boy up higher anyways.
“you were gone for so long. i thought you went missing.”
“nah, bud. can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“sometimes i wish i could.”

and when jisung turns, chan is standing in the doorway, sipping from a mug with dirty blonde strands of hair sticking up every which way.

their mother laughs.

“ugh, i’m tired.”

felix pops his head up from under his desk, peeking at jisung, who drops his head onto his desk. blonde strands of hair rustle against the well loved pages of their class’ novel, the noise a rough melody above the backdrop of their classmates’ chatter.

“maybe you shouldn’t be out so late? i’m surprised chan believed you when you said you were at mine to study.”
“only because mom believed me. he doesn’t trust me unless mom does, i swear.”
“you’re brothers, why would he?”
“…good point. but jeongin believes me all the time and he’s my brother too.”
“he’s thirteen and you and chan are sixteen and eighteen. maybe he’s just more innocent?”
“that boy ain’t innocent, lemme tell you that right now. he’s like the devil hiding behind a mask.”

felix snorts, flips a page in his novel.

“oh, so basically a mini seungmin then?” felix laughs, laughs even louder when said boy looks across the room from where he’s talking to another classmate, hyunjin.
“heard you were talkin’ shit,” he half assedly yells across the room. hyunjin laughs. jisung rolls his eyes, snickers and flips him off.

ah yes, a normal third period on a thursday.

jisung lolls his head against the headrest of his seat, looking out the window as hyunjin talks to chan about something. sweat makes his suit cling to his arms, an uncomfortable sensation he’s gotten over the first few times he’s done this.

“hyunjin, you’re a racer, why are you so slow?” jisung drawls when he opens the door to the car, clicking his tongue.

hyunjin raises an eyebrow, smirks, adjusts the helmet under his arm. “you salty that i won that last race?”

“no. i’m salty because you’re talking to my brother instead of racing with me.” jisung raises an eyebrow, jingling the keys in his hand.
“fine. one more race.”
“two.”
“you owe me.”
“i’ll get you together with seungmin.”
“fucks sake.”

jisung smiles sweetly, watches hyunjin roll his eyes and chan laugh. despite all of it, hyunjin still zips up his suit again and pulls his helmet over his head.

“whoever loses has to buy the other dinner,” jisung bets, pulling his helmet over his head of blonde hair.
“get your wallet ready, then, ji, because i’m not losing to you!”

jisung only revs his engine as if to intimidate the older boy, but he only slips into his car and does the same back. chan strides up to the start (finish? i mean, you finish there, too) line, a black and white checkered flag in his hand as the duo both prepare themselves. sweat makes jisung’s gloves stick uncomfortably to every crook on his hands, and the air inside of his helmet is stuffy, hot, he struggles to inhale, but he only relaxes back into his seat and revs his car. chan glances at both cars, and nods, throwing his arm forward. the flag flutters almost prettily, a blur of black and white mixing effortlessly into grey as jisung steps on the accelerator and grabs at the gear shift with an almost punishing grip, going from one, to two, to three, four, five until he’s careening down the straight like nothing can catch him.

ready.

set.

go.

when he glances in the rearview mirror, hyunjin is hot on his tail, the blue of his car bright and inching closer and closer with every second that passes. he shoves the car back down into mid second gear as he approaches the first turn, hand pulling at the handbrake until there’s a nasty but oddly satisfying screech of tyres wearing down on the track. another one sounds shortly after, hyunjin has fallen behind, if only in the slightest.

he rounds another corner, laughing inwardly to himself when hyunjin doesn’t come for a good four seconds.

safe bet; he wins the two rounds. chan noogies his head and holds him with an arm around his neck.

“oi, phoenix.”

his voice rings loud through the parking lot they’re meeting at, echoing against cement pillars and the cold, black steel of his car. he huffs out a ring of smoke.

“what is it?”
“that boy from monday, do you know who he is?”
“the new kid? that you showed around? i dunno. pretty good looking, though.”
“he’s sixteen, perv.”
“i didn’t mean it like that, alpha.”

phoenix rolls his eyes, but his lips tug up into a small smile.

“anyway, why do you wanna know?”
“he just seems like he doesn’t belong here.”
“uh, duh, any sixteen year old wouldn’t.”
“no, i mean in this town. there’s a lot of shady shit that goes on around here and he seems like a pretty good kid.”
“know his name?”

alpha breathes out a sigh. “han.”

phoenix hums, runs a hand through his brown hair, mussing up the strands and pushing them out of his face. alpha pushes himself off of his car, dropping the cigarette in his hand to the floor and stomping it out.

“come on, the others are probably waiting for us.” he turns to look at the brunette, raising an eyebrow.
“sure, whatever. think someone’ll beat your record tonight?”

“tough fucking luck,” he snorts, reaching into his pocket for his keys. “you driving?”

“you’re asking the one who lost his heat on monday? to jun?”
“at least you didn’t get the cops alerted.” he rolls his eyes, pulling open the door to the car and sliding in, the brunette following after him.

the feeling of a steering wheel under his fingers will never grow old; it’s comfortable, easy, like it’s meant to be there.

ready.

set.

go.

the night sky welcomes them when they drift out onto the main street. phoenix snorts when some random old guy in an ancient car honks his horn at them for cutting him off at an intersection.

they eventually find themselves on the back streets, the pin on the speedometer inching its way forward until they’re careening down the long road at an 80.

han.

huh, seems familiar.

Chapter Text

“minho, the prelims are next wednesday. you gonna compete?”

minho turns to the sound of the voice, leaning back in his chair, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“woojin, it’s the prelims. of course i’m gonna compete.”
“what about phoenix?” he asks again, a small smile playing at his lips.

minho rolls his eyes. “he’s good, but against alpha? nah. no chance.”

“that’s a confident claim. as a phoenix enthusiast, i’m offended.”
“i’m a confident person, and an alpha enthusiast.”

woojin scoffs. “and did phoenix fall while walking down the stairs?”
minho flips him off. “shut up. that was one time.”
“jun laughed at you.”
“same way sukjae laughed at you when you got your finger stuck in the fucking car door.”

woojin scoffs, shutting his textbook when their teacher calls for class to be over.

minho swirls his tongue around the lollipop in his mouth, leaning back against the wall of the maintenance shed on the roof of the school’s main building. wind rustles through his hair as he looks out over the city. from here, he can see down onto the streets below, people milling around, getting lunch, rushing back in to work, hanging out at the park near school.

he clicks his tongue, looks down at his watch.

11:27. he stands, picks up his bag.

“woojin,” he says, when his watch stops ringing and the boy on the other end picks up.
“what is it?”
“let’s race. track near the abandoned shopping district. you know the place.”
“why now all of a sudden?”
“because i’m bored. and the prelims are tonight. and i have advanced physics next so let’s wag.”

the boy on the other end chuckles. “alright. whatever you say.”

he hangs up, turns on his heels and leaves for the stairwell back down into the school.

“minho. where are you going?”

said boy turns his head around. brian (brian kang, senior business teacher assistant) is standing there, his lanyard and keys in one hand, textbooks in his other.

“the track. don’t dog me in, rat.”

brian scoffs.

“alright then. don’t get caught.”

minho startles when someone drags him back by his bag when he’s walking out of the school gates, yelping when said person ruffles his hair and snickers.

“woojin, fuck off, holy shit.”

woojin snorts. “did i scare you?”

“what the hell else did you think you did?”

minho dusts off his shoulders, sighing. cars slowly pass by, stopping at the intersection off to the left, continuing down long roads.

“so, do you think that han kid is gonna come tonight?”
“kid probably can’t race for shit.” minho snorts.
“okay, so that’s code for ‘i really hope he comes’.”
“ugh, so what if he does? not like he’s gonna win. nobody’s beaten my record for years.”
“everybody’s shit, that’s why.”
“woah, big words coming out of your mouth there, buddy.”
“so you can be cocky and i can’t?”
“well my name is alpha, woojin.”

woojin rolls his eyes, follows hurriedly after minho as they round the corner of the street, passing the old lady that always gives minho one of her sweets every day when he walks to school.

jisung chokes on his chocolate milk when warm arms wrap around him from behind and there’s a chin resting on his shoulder.

“sungie, when are you gonna be done? play video games with me!” it’s jeongin, his annoyingly irresistible sweet voice ringing in the older boy’s ear.
“i’ll play video games with you in a bit, but this painting for class isn’t going to finish itself, innie.”
“awwnnn, unfair. you said that you were going to show me how to race today, too.”
“ah, that’s right. it’s only noon, we’ve got time before i can teach you. go bother channie for a bit, hey?”
“okay!”

and with that, the thirteen year old picks up his little stuffed rabbit and bounds out of jisung’s room, shutting the door behind him before jisung hears the distinct creaking of the door to the bedroom next to his open.

he sighs, dumps his brush back into his cup of dirty water and stretches his arms above his head. he looks at the time on his computer display. 12:04pm.

he pushes his painting closer to the corner of his room, where another painting sits unfinished, blues bleeding into reds bleeding into the gold of a sunset hidden away by intricately detailed trees.

the meet is at 9. he turns on his heels and picks up his cups of water, nudging his door open with his hip so he can head downstairs to clean them out.

“ow— channie!”
“sorry, innie!”

jisung laughs to himself.

“—and then press down clutch and release accelerator—”

jisung observes jeongin as he presses his foot down, one hand gripping at the wheel and the other at the gear shift.

“—now move the gear shift into four, and then release clutch—”

jeongin does as told, accelerating down the straight and speeding over the black and white checkered line at the finish, where he eventually comes to a stop.

“wow, i can’t believe you actually managed to teach jeongin how to race.” chan whistles, helping jeongin out of jisung’s old racing suit.
“i’m not that stupid when it comes to this stuff.”
“and you are when it comes to your studies?”
“well, i’m sorry that you came second overall in grade eleven last year but some of us aren’t as smart as you, aight?”
“at least you’re a good kid, that’s all that matters. you’re not out at night doing shady shit, dealing drugs, drinking alcohol. you’re a good kid.”
“y-yeah—”
“you’re going to the library to study tonight, right? want me to drop you off?” chan asks, folding up the racing suit and stuffing it into jeongin’s bag.
“nah. i’ll be fine with walking.”
“m’kay then.”

jisung scratches his neck. he figures chan doesn’t need to know; he’s too overprotective.

throwing his bag over his shoulder, jisung waits for his brothers until they’ve finished packing up and have got their own bags on.

“come on, kiddos. mom’s gonna be mad if we’re not there for dinner. dad’s home tonight.” chan hums, jisung watches him as he bends over to pick up a couple of stones on the side of the track, bouncing them across the slightly tacky blacktop.
“dad’s home!” jeongin chirps happily. “sungie, you gotta tell dad about your competition on friday, maybe he’ll come!”
“a-ah, maybe not. i’m not the best.”
“of course you are!”

jisung chuckles quietly to himself, elbows jeongin in the arm.

minho raises an eyebrow, turning over his shoulder at the sound of glass breaking behind him. he takes another sip of his water, turning back to the conversation in front of him although rather disinterested. woojin is busy typing away at his phone, the glow of the screen lighting up sharp features in a ghostly manner. minho rolls his eyes when there’s a loud session of laughter a few feet away from him, the rev of a car getting everyone excited. the meet hasn’t even started. he turns to look over his shoulder, checking the alleyway just behind sungjin and jaebum.

is han coming? he thinks to himself, but shrugs it off, flipping someone the bird when he gives him a smirk and a wink.

woojin tucks his phone away in his pocket, looks up at minho. “first heat is in five minutes. ten heats. top three times in each progress to the second round.”

minho nods, sips his water again, screws the cap on and pulls his face mask over his mouth. he runs deft fingers through soft strands of raven hair, and pushes them out of his face as another car revs its engine louder, more pronounced.

“alpha. new boy is here, i think.”

minho’s ears perk up and he turns his head. jaehyung is standing there, gold rimmed glasses sitting atop the milky skin of his nose, reflecting the red lights blaring around the area diluted by smoke.

“the little one?”
“mm.”
“is he competing?” minho raises an eyebrow, jaehyung shrugs in response.
“i don’t know. phoenix, come with me and ask him.”
“no, i’ll come.”

minho stuffs his phone into his back pocket and turns on his heels, following after jaehyung. he flips woojin off when he whistles from behind them.

“he was around here, i think,” jaehyung says when they get to the back of the meet.

minho stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and clicks his tongue, looking around. there are a lot of newcomers standing around, some as buff as the returning racers, some scrawny and little.

“alpha, there he is.”

minho clicks his tongue, turning to where jaehyung is pointing. sure enough, there he is, leaning against the wall with his phone up to his ear, and his mouth is moving as if he’s arguing with someone.

he has a snapback pulled backwards over washed out blond hair, and his frame is drowning in a bright red hoodie, legs hugged in tight fitting ripped jeans.

“no, no, i can get home myself, chan.”
“alright then. be safe, sung.”

minho raises an eyebrow, slaps jaehyung on the back and sends him off to announce the first heat.

“oi. han, right?”

the boy jumps, fumbles with his phone until he clutches it to his chest. he looks up at minho with wide eyes, mouth open in shock.

“a-ah, hey! uh—”
“are you competing tonight? first heat is starting in a little bit.”
“uhm, i thought i’d just w-watch—”
“nah, come on, i’ll get you first choice in car. you know how to drive, right?”
“i race for my school.”

minho raises an eyebrow, pulls his mask down and smirks at the shorter boy.

“i expect you to pass onto the next round then.”
“u-uh, i-is there like a registration, or…?”

minho laughs. han watches him and scratches at the back of his head.

“there is, but are you willing to sell your soul away?”
“uh—”
“i’m kidding, follow me.”

han stands there for a second, and it takes alpha two seconds to stop and look over his shoulder at him for him to move.

“alright, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the preliminary round of the annual 9th district tournament.”

jisung fiddles with the sleeves of his hoodie. he looks around, no sign of alpha anywhere — where the fuck did he go? — and everyone is slowly pushing him against the barrier blocking them off from the stage where a boy wearing a white shirt tucked into ripped denim jeans is standing, gold rimmed glasses perched unevenly on his nose.

“this tournament is for those who are not of weak hearts, so if you aren’t up to the challenge, please step away now.”

jisung hears a couple of people shuffle away, leaving him with a couple of men and women, most taller than him and smelling like beer and smoke. he shifts his toes in his boots and rocks back and forth.

“for returning racers, welcome! pray that this tournament will be yours to win. for newcomers, welcome also! my name is mercury, one of the officials here, alongside phoenix, blackout and, of course, our beloved alpha.”

there are loud cheers and whoops from everyone, applause deafening jisung’s ears as he watches three other people climb up onto the stage.

he ignores the heat racing across his cheeks when alpha looks him in the eye and winks. jisung watches mercury pass the microphone to him.

“good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

(jisung is sure someone behind him just, like, bust a nut, if that groan was anything to go by.)

“the first heat in the preliminary begins in two minutes. if you are competing, please move to the gates to the left. but before you do—”

jisung’s phone vibrates in his back pocket.

old bitch
— mom wants to know if you’re going to be staying at lix’s

“the cute boy with the blonde hair in the front, please make your way over first.”

jisung sighs a tiny breath of relief. he didn’t mention his name. good.

what isn’t good, jisung decides, is the fact that everyone watches him as he shuffles over to the gates. the dude guarding it is tall, buff as hell, and he keeps his eyes trained on the ground.

“okay, han, follow me.”

jisung looks up, alpha is standing there with an eyebrow quirked and a smirk on his face, the girls behind him all fawning and sighing dreamily to each other.

“may the tournament begin.”

Chapter Text

the leather of the wheel is cold under his fingers, the smooth material weird even through the material of his gloves. his racing suit feels to high quality, too expensive against his skin and he really just wants to get this over and done with before he gets another angry glare from a racer that wanted this car.

alpha is standing at the start line, a cap gun in his hands as the boy jisung recognises as blackout stands up on the platform on the other side of the track (which, by the way, looks too legit to be part of an illegal racers meet, jisung thinks) and raises a microphone to his lips.

“welcome, all racers, to the first heat of the preliminary round of the 9th district tournament. for the first race of tonight, you will be racing through the eastern side of the city, past the eastern shopping district and the ives bank, you will then proceed through city central, taking any route you’d like as long as you pass the city square, to the western end of the city, where our lovely officials phoenix and mercury will be waiting for your arrival. alpha, if you may.”

jisung breathes heavy in the driver’s seat, moving one of his hands to the gear shift as alpha speaks into his microphone.

“on your marks—”

jisung revs his car out of habit, and he watches alpha’s smile grow a teensy bit. he moves the gear shift from the centre into one.

“get set—”

he hears the rev of other cars all around him, intimidating, loud, experienced.

the ‘bang!’ of the cap gun barely registers in his mind before he’s stepping on the accelerator and he’s moving, speeding ahead of other racers as they drift out onto a quiet, abandoned street that eventually leads onto the main streets.

it’s so weird; the car feels so powerful under his fingertips. he shifts straight to three, then to four as he careens down the street, taking an easy corner and trailing behind another car, navy blue and bright red and bright yellow streaked across its rims. the main street is coming up. jisung looks in his rear view mirror, other cars are speeding up, catching up to them.

he clicks his tongue, glances out the window to the right.

the alleyways are dark, but he knows the eastern side of the city like the back of his hand, and so he shoves the gear shift back into mid two and glances in his rear view mirror once more before pulling his hand brake up and jerking the wheel to the right, drifting right in front of other racers into a dark alleyway just wide enough to fit maybe a car and a half. glancing in the mirror again, he sighs when he doesn’t see anyone following him. pushing the car back into fourth gear, he jets down the alleyway, hand steady, eyes sharp, pointed.

(“ooh, an interesting maneuver made by our newbie, han. will he be able to pull through in first?”)

jisung rolls his eyes at the voice that comes over the radio in the car, and he pulls his hand brake again, swerving onto the main road on the other side of the buildings, leading out onto the very outskirts of the city. if he can remember correctly, all of the intersections on this particular street don’t have cameras and traffic lights. he overtakes a car easily, speeding up until he’s stepping down hard on the clutch, releasing the accelerator, and shoving the car into fifth gear as he speeds down the less populated road. he looks in the rearview mirror just in time to see that same navy blue and firetruck red car swerve onto his street. he sniffs, turning his head to look down the many streets he’s passing to see the best option for him. the end of the street grows ever near, and he swerves another car just to move back down into third gear to careen down a straight of road that isn’t the busiest but still isn’t the least busy either.

“damn, hope i don’t get the cops alerted,” he breathes, as he takes a sharp left then a sharp right, heading right for the heart of the city, right where the city square is.

another glance in his mirror, a silver car dashed with bright orange is swapping lanes like a madman behind him alongside one that’s bright red with black rims and some buff dude driving it that looks like he could crush jisung’s skull right through his helmet. jisung remains at the same speed, though he drifts around a corner and breathes out a sigh when he sees no one on the street. he looks at the gps on the display in the middle of him and the passenger seat.

“the city square should be up another two streets.” jisung clears his throat and swerves onto another main street, ignoring the awed looks of some people as he speeds past. there’s another car ahead of him, the same one from the beginning, and jisung is not going to be mocked by its fancy blue body and it’s (rather ugly, if jisung were to say) bright red racing stripes, not tonight anyways.

he kicks the car into fifth gear, lurching down the straight until he’s on the right side of the double lane, neck and neck with the other competitor.

lucky for him, the left lane ends in fifty metres and he’s ahead. jisung glances in the rearview mirror when the other car moves behind him, swerving left and right in the lane to see if he can overtake him.

jisung ignores a ‘give way’ sign, speeding past and turning onto an old road. he’s made it through the city square, that’s all he needs.

(“oh wow, would you look at that? our newest competitor, han, is first to move through the city square; he’s beating professionals into the ground, how sad! maybe this year’s tournament will be his to win? wouldn’t that be amusing?”)

it’s alpha speaking, his voice sickeningly sweet and giggling toxic, through the radio in the car and jisung almost swerves when he hears himself come up again. he clicks his tongue, slows down the slightest and shifts back into third gear when he sees a cop car take a sharp turn down the street he’s on. they don’t seem to find him suspicious and pass by peacefully. jisung takes turns until eventually he’s racing down an old road on the outskirts of the city, and bumps the car into fourth gear.

he startles when he hears his phone ring in the pocket of his hoodie on the passenger seat, and he recognises the ringtone anywhere.

“shit, chan, not now—!” he panics a little, and sacrifices one of his hands to fish his phone out of his hoodie, glancing at it before throwing it back down; better to act like it was a missed call than to hang up on him.

he swerves a corner, the loud honk of a horn catching him off guard a bit and when he looks in the rear view mirror, two of the other competing cars are hot on his tail, revving their engines intimidatingly as jisung looks back at the road ahead of him and searches the surrounding area for anything that can help him.

(“ladies and gents, our racers are now heading up to the final stretch of the heat, with our infamous ‘knight’ leading ahead of them all, our newbie ‘han’ right behind hi— oh my god—”)

jisung clicks his tongue, kicks the car up into fifth gear and alternates his footing between the brake and the accelerator, jerking the wheel to the right and drifting, cutting across the dim street, towards a hefty slab of wood propped up against a stack of cut logs, held firmly in place with heavy duty rope. the construction site it’s next to is seemingly empty, all workers absent and all lights surrounding it off, and jisung takes a deep breath as he glances out his left window to see knight speeding up the straight, about to turn off onto the final street before their finishing destination; the tunnel leading out onto the highway.

it’s like a scene right out of fast and furious, really (jisung and chan were both obsessed with it as kids), the way jisung feels the car (which he constantly reminds himself isn’t his) rocket off of the makeshift ramp. it feels as if time slows down, his breath hitching as he barely skims over the fence of the construction site. the tyres make an ugly screeching noise against the blacktop as he comes into contact with the ground again, and his wheel jerks under his small hands, tyres spinning as he sets off down the road, glancing in his rearview mirror to see where the other competitors are.

(“ugh, i think han is trying to steal my heart here. did you see that jump? phoenix, we’re gonna need a replay of that— but for now, both han and knight are neck and neck, heading right for the finish line at the entrance of the tunnel!”)

“fuck, fast and furious didn’t tell me how hard this was!” jisung whines, watching the speedometer soar over the 100 point, reaching 120 as he speeds towards the finish line, where a crowd of people as well as phoenix and mercury, are standing, eagerly awaiting the winner.

the intimidating rev of engines behind him don’t faze his concentration as he glances out of his window to see where knight it, only to see him catching up. jisung guns it for the finish, alpha’s commentary filling the otherwise quiet interior of the car as jisung speeds over the line, his foot easing off of the accelerator.

(“wowie, hands together for our newbie, people! what an exciting first heat. mercury, phoenix, please release the final results as quick as possible. racers, your gps’ should now be loaded up with a quick route to the beginning of the race. please meet blackout and i back here.”)

and jisung sighs, turning off onto an old road, reaching over to pick up his phone.

“hey.”
“you missed my first call.”
“yeah, yeah, it was on silent and i was studying.”

jisung shifts into third gear, cruising down the highlighted path on the gps.

“are you heading somewhere? i can hear you in your car.”
“yeah, felix was with me. heading to his place for the night since it’s closer.”
“how ingenious. well, i’ll call you later so you don’t crash. night, lil bro.”
“night.”

the original starting point comes into view soon enough, and jisung throws his phone back over onto the passenger seat as he pulls up, immediately greeted by the cheering and whooping of a crowd.

he sighs, heart almost beating out of his chest from adrenaline.

the looks he receives when he steps out of the car are a mix of disappointed, annoyance, elation, surprise. he ignores them all, tucking his hoodie under his arm and unzipping his racing suit as alpha walks over, his perfectly styled black hair and neatly presented outfit making him look like a god in the dim lighting.

“wow. han. thought you said you were a school racer.”
“i-i am, it’s just… felt like doing something. didn’t wanna lose, don’t like losing.”

alpha raises an eyebrow. “so you’re one of those types of people. i like your attitude.”

jisung startles when a huge hand grips him by the shoulder, spinning him around until he’s face to face with a tall, buff man with an undercut and piercings littering his ears, a scar running through his eyebrow. jisung blinks up at him, and he can’t tell whether it’s fear or adrenaline seeping through his blood but the man leans down into his face and huffs, then pulls back and gives him an oddly comforting half smirk, half snort.

“so you’re the kid who beat me,” he says, and his voice is gruff, deep, nothing like jisung’s ever heard before.
“u-uh—”
“i’m knight. nice to meet you— han?”
“y-yeah, h-han.”

the man’s hand engulfs his completely, and jisung doesn’t say anything else for fear of the man breaking every bone in his hand.

when he walks off, leaving jisung with alpha, alpha chuckles. “come on, kid. get outta that racing suit. i don’t think the crowd likes the fact that you’re hogging my attention. meet me near the very back alleyway when everything’s over.”

and jisung nods, speechless, before alpha walks off, his hips swaying as much as they always do as he flips someone in the crowd off for yelling ‘fuck me, alpha!’.

jisung presses his phone to his ear, the familiar ringtone playing softly under the loud chatter behind him.

“hey, jisung? where ya been, man?”
“felix, can i stay over yours tonight? i lied and told chan that i was staying at yours.”
“yeah, sure, i don’t mind. where are you, though? it’s kinda loud over your end. you at a party or somethin’?”
“…i’m at a 9th district meet.”
“a 9th district meet?! aren’t those illegal? are you gonna get busted by the cops? please tell me you’re not doing anything stupid like competing in their annual tournament.”
“i won my heat?”
“you did? that’s great! but still… isn’t it dangerous over there?”

“who are you talking to?”

jisung jumps out of his skin with a very unmanly screech when there’s a smooth voice by his ear, and when he looks up, alpha is standing there, hands linked behind his back, swaying back and forth on his feet, a hood pulled over his raven hair.

“jisung? what was that? what’s happening?”
“a-a-aah— n-nothing, lix! i’ll see you later, gotta go!”

and he hangs up, shoving his phone back into the front pocket of his hoodie, scratching the back of his head as alpha assesses the situation.

“‘jisung’?” he asks eventually, voice sweet, mellifluous.
“uh… i-it’s my real name. my real name is jisung, han is my last name.” jisung smiles a little awkwardly, but alpha only chuckles nonetheless.

jisung has no time to think before he’s being pushed backwards away from the crowd by alpha’s hand on his chest. his car keys jingle in the pocket of his hoodie as he stumbles backwards, and eventually alpha pushes him up against a wall, pressing a finger against his lips to silence jisung before he even says anything.

“too many peeping toms, too many eavesdroppers.”
“y-yeah… and…?”
“i figured it's only fair that you know my real name now that i know yours.”

oh, oh. jisung gulps.

he’s getting alpha’s real name?

“u-uh, oka—”
“minho.”

and jisung pauses, his breathing hitches a little bit because the word on the ravenette’s tongue sounds like the melody to his favourite song — sweet, harmonious, with the slightest pitch change in there that makes it so so unique.

“eh?” is all jisung manages to get out, his eyebrows surely shot back to his hairline, and his fingertips resting against alpha’s — minho’s — upper arms from when he was being pushed back by the taller male.

minho simply laughs, his giggle bright and happy and cute and so not what jisung expected it to sound like.

“my real name is minho. lee minho.”