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Chapter Text

Kim Seokjin glared fiercely at the bubbles popping around his bent knees, his long, elegant toes poking out where his feet were propped up on the edge of the bath. Throughout his adult life, Seokjin had grown used to things playing out exactly as he wanted them to, every detail meticulously planned and executed with the utmost finesse. In his early thirties, he was in possession of near-vulgar wealth, wildly successful, and almost too handsome to be believed. The willpower and skill that had gone into the creation of his near-perfect existence was almost unfathomable. When he allowed himself to think about it. Indeed, Seokjin couldn’t even get his own head around the sum total of all that he’d sacrificed, all that he’d made bend to his will in order to get where he was today.

The undeniable proof of which stood in a locked cabinet in his bathroom, protected by almost unbreakable Hammerglass.

Inside the cabinet rested not one, not two, but three Formula 1 World Driver’s Championship trophies, inscribed with his name. Only Kim Seokjin was allowed the privilege of casting his eyes upon them, and he intended to keep it that way.

Not another soul was allowed in Seokjin’s private bathroom. With the exception of the tradesmen who’d completed the build – and for whom the non-disclosure agreements were watertight – nobody ever would be. No family, no friends, and as for lovers… Well, Seokjin kept that part of himself far away from his most sacred space. He’d never allowed a paramour in his house, let alone in his bathroom. There were parts of himself that Kim Seokjin was simply unwilling to  open up to any form of scrutiny. To do so would be inviting advice, opinions, and – worst of all – pity. Realistically, was there a more appropriate setting for the fruits of his lifelong labour than here, the only place where his vulnerability could exist in full, unfettered bloom?

Naturally, he’d had replicas made. Said duplicates remained on display in the grand entertainment room of his house. Of course, they were also in a locked cabinet, behind a thick layer of Hammerglass. Seokjin knew it was important to keep the illusion fully polished. His many and frequent houseguests had no idea that what they were looking at were mere facsimiles, suitably expensive and beautifully made as they may have been.

Seokjin lifted his engraved crystal Edo Kiriko tumbler and took a long pull of Yamazaki 25. Usually, he would drink it slowly, savouring each sip as it warmed and blossomed on his tongue, taking the time to pick out each of the individual flavour notes. It was, after all, an exquisite whisky, deserving of his full attention. Today, however, as the commentator’s overly-excitable voice boomed out from the surround sound television hooked up to his bathroom’s 4K TV, Seokjin could not muster the capacity to show his drink the appropriate respect. A surge of rage had white spots swimming in his vision, his heart racing as he let out a roar of frustration. A roar which only increased in intensity as his phone began to ring.

Snatching up the offending object, Seokjin was about to hurl it across the room when he noticed that the display read Father.

A kernel of fear immediately replaced the anger roiling in the pit of his stomach. It would not do to allow this call to go to voicemail, he was well aware of that. Nor would it be acceptable to answer the phone laced with the anger that had been coursing through him just moments ago. With difficulty, Seokjin wrenched his willpower from the depths of himself and managed to calm down enough to answer the phone with the serene, breezy tone his father expected of him.

“Hello, Father.”

“Hello, son,” his father said gruffly. “I trust you’ve been watching?”

Seokjin had been watching, all right.

“Of course, Father. You know I would never miss an opportunity to learn more about my competiitors-“

“And yet you’re in Seoul, lounging around with your dick in your hand when you should have been in Bahrain for the test,” his father shot back flippantly.

“Father, I told you, the team wanted to give Soobin a chance to test to see how he stacks up-“

His father laughed, a deep, chilling sound that still had the capacity to send a chill all over Seokjin’s body. “Sure. And if Kim Seokjin, three-time and currently reigning World Champion, had insisted that he wanted to test the car, I’m sure they wouldn’t have been able to do enough to accommodate him.”

A pause.

“Father, I-“

“Seokjin, are you looking at the television?” his father cut him off.

“Yes, Father,” Seokjin replied meekly.

The graphic on the screen showed the overall testing results from the week of pre-season testing. Seokjin’s race team, Silver Bullets, led the way, of course. Closely followed by Stallions, with MacPherson in third and Matadors in a distant fourth. Nothing new there. Silver Bullets and Stallions had been fighting it out for supremacy since before Seokjin had sat behind the wheel of his first go-kart.

What was new, however, was the name of the driver at the very top of the timesheets.

Jeon Jeongguk.

Seokjin’s newly-minted teammate. He pondered the word, allowing the flavour of it to rest silently on his tongue. Team-mate. The word was convivial, friendly, even. Indicative of an easy, close relationship. And yet, it went without saying that in the world of high-octane racing, your teammate was your first and biggest rival. The yardstick with which to measure one’s progress - and sometimes, simply the stick with which one found oneself beaten.

Was it any wonder, then, that some of the most legendary rivalries in motorsport had arisen between teammates?

“Seokjin-ah?” his father cut into his spiralling thoughts.

“Yes, Father?”

“You know what to do. Crush him.”

Seokjin was just about to respond in the affirmative when he realised his father had hung up.

Anger surged through him anew. For the millionth time, he wondered why his previous teammate had felt the need to retire. Jonathan had been steady, manageable, a ‘safe pair of hands’ who was always happy to come in at a respectable distance behind Seokjin. The perfect rear gunner when fighting against other teams, it had seemingly never occurred to Jonathan to challenge Seokjin’s supremacy. In any case, Seokjin’s superior talent and skill always kept him on top. But Jonathan had left, citing the excuse that he wanted to spend more time with his wife and young children.

Seokjin had never been more grateful to have made the choice to remain a bachelor.

Held hostage by a surprising onslaught of emotion, Seokjin felt his carefully curated mask begin to slip. In one overwhelming moment, he snatched up his expensive tumbler and heaved it at the far wall. The crash and tinkle of splintering crystal burst spectacularly in the tiled expanse of the bathroom.

His sanctuary.

Now full of a mess that he would have to deal with himself. Because, of course, nobody else was allowed in this sacred space.

Trembling, Seokjin sank down until only his eyes and nose were visible above the water, fighting back tears that he hadn’t given in to for twenty years.

He wasn’t about to start letting them win now.

*****

Brows furrowed and jaw set in a firm line, Park Jimin tore around the Stallions motorhome in a desperate quest. As he did almost every day of his life, he cursed the fact that he’d allowed himself to end up in such a position. When a teenage Park Jimin had decided to pursue a career in sports science, racing driver wrangling had not been on his list of desirable skills to acquire. And yet, as performance coach to one of the most mind-bogglingly gifted men ever to turn a wheel in anger, that was precisely what Jimin spent most of his time doing. Unfortunately, Jimin had no time to dwell on his frustrations and thwarted dreams at the present moment - he had a driver to find.

Scanning the motorhome, Jimin pursed his lips in thought.

Aha! A spark of inspiration flashed in his mind.

The team principal’s office. That was the last place he hadn’t looked. Jimin hummed, musing that it was highly unlikely he’d have any luck there. In an unspoken and universally agreed rule, Park Seojoon’s room was off-limits to the rest of the team. However, Jimin had searched everywhere else, and he was fast running out of both time and options. The press were clamouring for a quote from his driver and Jimin knew all too well that those vultures wouldn’t cease snapping until they’d eaten their fill.

“Where are you?” he murmured under his breath, gently pushing open the door to Seojoon’s office and tiptoeing in. For a moment, Jimin’s eyes struggled to adjust to the lack of light. His hearing, however, had no such trouble. The unmistakeable sounds of feminine pleasure filled his ears, accompanied by enthusiastic slurping and a distinctively-toned humming that could only belong to one person. Jimin’s stomach plummeted as his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and looked directly into those of Kim Taehyung. Chin resting on the edge of Seojoon’s desk, his face buried between the widely parted thighs of… wait, was that…? Shit, Jimin cursed internally. If he wasn’t mistaken, those shapely bare legs and rather sumptuous behind belonged to the Silver Bullets’ head of PR.

His train of thought was abruptly derailed as the woman’s shrieking reached a crescendo, followed by low, guttural moans of Taehyung’s name as her thighs spasmed around his head. It dawned on Jimin that he was intruding on a rather intimate moment. And yet, he knew by the glint in Taehyung’s eyes that his presence had not gone unnoticed – at least, not by Taehyung.

Jimin really wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that particular detail.

Once the sound of heavy breaths had receded, Jimin politely cleared his throat.

“Um. Excuse me… Sorry to interrupt, but the press want an interview with you, Taehyung,” he said, his voice shaky and high-pitched.

The woman whipped her head around and screamed, grabbing at her discarded skirt in a futile attempt to preserve her modesty.

“Sorry… sorry,” Jimin muttered, bowing as he turned away. He was vaguely aware of the now-clothed woman rushing past him and out the door. “Tae, could you hurry up and get yourself out there before they have my head on a platter?”

A resonant groan echoed throughout the office, followed by the sound of cracking joints.

“You can turn back around now, Jimin, it’s safe for your poor innocent eyes,” Kim Taehyung’s unmistakeable, bitter-chocolate voice drawled.

Gingerly turning around, Jimin was met with an infuriating smirk.

“Jesus, Tae, you didn’t even take off your balaclava first,” he muttered disapprovingly. Indeed, Taehyung had only yanked the eye hole down enough to expose the lower half of his face, stretching the fabric out of shape. Jimin vaguely lamented the fact that the team would need to supply Taehyung yet another fireproof balaclava as that one was definitely no longer fit for purpose.

Taehyung shrugged, pouting his lips. “Needs must, bro,” he answered glibly. “When the eating’s that good…”

“Ugh,” Jimin uttered, making a face. “I don’t want to know, thank you very much. For starters, you should be ashamed of yourself. Fraternising with the enemy, and in Seojoon’s office of all places!”

Taehyung snorted. “Look, I’ve been working on her for months, and when I finally got the chance, I had to buy myself some time.  I knew this was the last place anyone would look,” he explained. Lips quirking up at the corners, he added, “It worked, though, didn’t it? I got away with it. Again.”

Taehyung’s stupidly handsome face split into his trademark boxy grin. Which, unfortunately, had the effect of drawing Jimin’s attention to the fact that Taehyung’s chin was still wet with God knows what. Jimin felt a blush rise from the pit of his stomach, racing up his neck and finally settling in his cheeks. He could only pray that the dim light hid his predicament from Taehyung’s sharp eyes.

“Tae. Maybe if you’d spent less time thinking with your dick you’d have set the fastest time this week instead of the second fastest. Take off your balaclava. Fix your hair. Wipe your goddamn face. And get your ass out to the media pen, pronto!”

As Jimin spun on his heel and strode back out into the main area of the motorhome, he heard Taehyung snickering and muttering “Yes, Sir!” under his breath.

The odd flutter of excitement in Jimin’s stomach was surely down to fear of Taehyung’s antics being exposed and having to face the scandal that would cause.

Of course it was. There could be absolutely nothing more to it than that.

*****

“Yo, Soob, great job today!” Jeon Jeongguk hollered at his temporary teammate, Choi Soobin, raising his hand for a high five.

The tall, slender youngster, all soulful eyes, acute angles and shy glances, ducked his head. “Thanks, bro. I couldn’t have done it without your help on the setup side of things,” he said modestly.

“Nah, credit where credit’s due. You earned it,” Jeongguk insisted, patting Soobin on his surprisingly solid shoulder.

“It’d be nice if I had a full-time drive,” Soobin said wistfully. “But the offer from Picadors was dead in the water before talks even got off the ground. Namjoon won’t let any other team touch me as long as I’m under a Silver Bullets contract. And I’m not getting this seat while The King is still around,” he pointed out.

‘The King’ was the paddock’s nickname for the one and only Kim Seokjin. Although some people referred to him as ‘His Majesty’ in a rather more sneering fashion. Jeongguk, however, harboured great respect for the older driver. Some would say it bordered on hero worship.

Not that he would ever let Kim Seokjin in on that piece of information.

Jeongguk’s wide eyes sparkled with concern for Soobin as he pondered his friend’s words. In his darkest moments he wondered if it was really fair for him to be in a full-time race seat at the top Formula 1 team when people like Soobin had worked toward the same goal for so much longer than he had.

But high level motorsport was rarely fair, and nor was life. Some people learned that the hard way. Jeongguk, however, had grown so used to having things stacked against him that he still found himself incredulous when something went his way without too much of a fight. To say that the past two years had exceeded his wildest dreams was still, somehow, an understatement.

Winning both Formula 3 and Formula 2 at his first time of asking, Jeongguk had surprised everyone. Even his staunchest supporters. This feat had placed him in rarefied company - of the currently active drivers, only one was a fellow member of that exclusive club.

That driver was Kim Seokjin.

Refined, wealthy, and impeccably well-mannered, Kim Seokjin’s upbringing could scarcely have been more of a contrast to Jeongguk’s. The younger driver had been brought up poor in Busan, raised by a single, unwed mother who worked herself to the bone trying to give the son the kind of life she hadn’t been able to enjoy. Though they’d always had a secure roof over their heads, thanks to a kind and patient landlord, there were several Christmases in Jeongguk’s childhood when Santa hadn’t found the time to stop by. Yet the bright, sparkly-eyed boy was always surrounded by love, which he carried with him in everything he did. As soon as he was old enough, he worked odd jobs around the neighbourhood for a few thousand won here and there, breathing a sigh of relief when he got his first official part-time job the day after his fifteenth birthday. From that day forward, he had contributed a sizeable chunk of his salary to his mother.

Now that he would be earning several million US dollars a year, Jeongguk’s mother would have the luxurious life she had always deserved. A quiet sense of pride filled Jeongguk’s chest when he thought about the fact that his mother would never have to struggle again. That was worth more to him than any amount of money or fame could ever hope to be.

The fact that Jeongguk lacked the rarefied pedigree of his Formula 1 driver counterparts mattered not a bit to his supporters. In possession of soulful eyes and an adorable, bunny-like grin, he’d quickly gained a veritable army of fans. His chiselled build and full sleeve of intricate tattoos certainly didn’t hurt his cause. Nor did his refreshingly irreverent outlook. Jeongguk’s, unusual path to the top bore other scars, however - at twenty-seven years old, he was a man, where other rookies were mere boys. Famously, Jeongguk hadn’t even learned to drive until he was eighteen, when he’d finally scraped together enough savings from his convenience store job to buy a rusty second-hand car. With his quick mind and formidable ability to master things, he was soon blasting his car around the back streets of Busan as though he’d been born to it. Luckily he was also knowledgeable enough to avoid law enforcement, or his story could have been vastly different.

Like many other aspects of his life, Jeongguk’s entry into motorsport was definitely not by-the-book. After losing a drunken bet, he had risen to the challenge of driving a friend’s project car in a local stock car meet. To the astonished whoops of the crowd, Jeongguk had won by an enormous margin, lapping the field on his racing debut. A small-time sponsor had been in attendance that day and the rest, as they say, was history. A stint in the national sports car championship followed, and after a year in Japanese Super Formula, he’d been famously snapped up by the most successful team in Formula 3.

Jeongguk briefly pondered the fact that while the doors to the top level had been ajar, getting himself through had been somewhat of a challenge. Due to a lack of consistent funding, Jeongguk’s year in Formula 3 had teetered on a knife edge, often being unable to confirm his attendance at a race until the day before. Not, perhaps, the most ideal circumstances under which to thrive. And yet, Jeon Jeongguk managed to win the championship with three races still to go, his almost sponsor-free car leaving drivers from prestigious racing academies languishing in his wheel tracks. Jeongguk’s star rose at such a rate that when he reached Formula 2, by that time a member of the Silver Bullets academy, his title win was almost a foregone conclusion. Still, it was only when Kim Namjoon had phoned him several months before the end of the 2024 season, offering him the Silver Bullets race seat that Jonathan Elsworthy was about to vacate, that Jeongguk could finally start believing that his meteoric rise wasn’t a dream.

With a jolt, Jeongguk realised he’d been staring off into space for rather too long. It was a lifelong habit of his, losing himself in thought to the point he became divorced from reality. Fortunately, it had never once happened in a car…

Soobin shot him a quizzical look as Jeongguk shook himself back into the room.

“It’ll happen for you, Soob,” Jeongguk reassured his friend, clapping him on the back. “Talent and hard work like yours won’t go unrewarded.”

Soobin gave him a wry smile. “You and I both know that doesn’t guarantee anything, Gukkie,” he quipped good-naturedly. His normally smiling mouth thinned into a hard line. "After all that hard work, I need a beer. You coming?”

Jeongguk laughed, throwing his head back to expose the thick, muscular column of his throat. The neck exercises in his new training regime had certainly paid off.

“Sure, bro,” he replied. “But you’re paying!”

*****

Once Kim Seokjin had managed to emerge from the warm, comforting embrace of his bathtub, he’d cleaned up the evidence of his moment of madness, dressed himself in pyjamas of the finest silk, and retired to his reading room with a fresh, un-splintered glass of Yamazaki 25.

Take two.

As he reclined his long, elegant form on the chaise longue, Seokjin allowed his thoughts to run free. Most of the time, he preferred to keep them on a tight leash – just like his emotions. Today, however, was a rare exception.

He prompted his mind to drift back to a phone call from Namjoon over a year ago. A call that would rock his world at the very foundations, though Seokjin certainly hadn’t known that at the time.

“Seokjin-ah, I’ve signed Jeon Jeongguk to our driver academy,” Namjoon had stated with no preamble. “I’d like you to take an interest in the kid, maybe give him some guidance. He’s a little rough around the edges, but I think the kid could be a star. Silver Bullets will be sponsoring his Formula 2 season next year and if that goes as well as we think it will, he’ll be given the promotion and will drive alongside you in ’25. Jonathan’s been hinting about retirement for a while now, and I finally feel like I might be able to let him do that,” Namjoon had blurted out, all in one breath.  

Seokjin shuddered as he remembered the easy acquiescence with which he’d responded to his friend and boss. It had been so easy to be benevolent, back then. The reigning world champion with two titles under his belt, highly tipped for a third, Seokjin had felt pity for Jeongguk and his rather gauche upbringing, taking it upon himself to teach the young man something of the way a racing driver should behave. They weren’t friends – oh no, Seokjin was too far above him for that – but it had been no hardship to show a little kindness to the uncouth young man with spectacular natural speed and a regrettable lack of manners.

Indeed, it had been no hardship when Kim Seokjin’s position at the top was assured. The events of the past week, however, suggested that may no longer be quite as secure as he’d thought.

A buzzing in his pocket alerted Seokjin to a new message.

Min Yoongi.

His race engineer – and probably the person he trusted more than anyone else in the world. Who normally left him well alone unless they were working together.

Groaning, Seokjin unlocked the device.

Min Yoongi (18.47):

Hyung. Promise me you won’t look at the headlines.

Seokjin let out a bitter laugh. Yoongi should know by now that the best way to get Kim Seokjin to do something was to tell him not to do it. With that in mind, he loaded up the front page of the sports news.

“Is this the end of The King’s reign?” was splashed across the page in bold, 30-point font. Jeon Jeongguk’s bright eyes and heart-wrenching smile were on full display in the accompanying photo, in which he was receiving a warm hug from none other than Kim Namjoon.

Namjoon. Who had been Seokjin’s safe place, his refuge from the constant stress of being at the top of the top. His boss, his supporter, his defender.

Namjoon. Whose chiselled body had trembled and writhed in Seokjin’s arms as they took each other apart and glued each other back together again in luxurious hotel rooms all over the world, when the stresses of their lives in the spotlight simply became too much to bear alone.

Namjoon. Who, like Seokjin, didn’t really ‘do’ feelings, meaning their friendship hadn’t been affected by the extra spice they’d added to it.

Namjoon. Who had his arms around the interloper Jeon Jeongguk on an international news site, for the entire world to see.

Seokjin’s phone buzzed once more.

Min Yoongi (18.51)

You looked, didn’t you?

Sighing, Seokjin typed furiously.

Kim Seokjin (18.51)

Of course I did. What do you take me for?

Min Yoongi (18.52):

You should know by now not to believe the headlines.

They’re just looking for a story. No need to rise to it.

Turn off your phone and don’t talk to any reporters.

Seokjin didn’t waste another moment, firmly pressing the power button and breathing a sigh of relief when his phone screen faded to black.

He would do his talking on the track, like he had always done. Kim Seokjin would show those bottom-feeders precisely what The King was made of.

*****

Albert Park Circuit, Melbourne, Australia

A scandalous moan escaped Kim Taehyung’s freshly moistened lips as a shudder racked through his body, making his thighs tense and his toes curl. “Oh God,” Taehyung panted, his hands desperately searching for purchase on something, anything.  

Jimin scrunched his nose and focused all his attention on going harder. He would make Taehyung scream. After all, it was exactly what he deserved. Laboured breathing hung thickly in the air of the tiny room as Jimin redoubled his efforts until…

“AaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaargh!” Taehyung cried out, his next breath following on a whimper. “Please, Jimin, have mercy,” he begged weakly, tears casting silvery tracks over his cheeks and down past his perfectly chiselled jaw.

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Jimin released his grip on Taehyung’s neck. “Those G-forces don’t play, Taehyung. What did you expect when you kept skipping out on your neck exercises during training? You still have Free Practice 3, Qualifying and an entire fifty-eight lap race to get through and look at you, you’re already a mess,” Jimin fumed, slapping Taehyung’s shoulder for good measure.

“I asked you to give me a massage, not subject me to torture,” Taehyung muttered poutily.

Jimin gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s what you get for not listening in the first place. I made you a training plan for a reason, you know. And you can stop using that pout on me, because you know I’m immune to it,” he pointed out. “If you’re not going to take this seriously-“

“Jimin,” Taehyung cut in.

“-then you’re going to have to find a new performance coach, because I’m just about done with your bullshit-“

“JIMIN!” Taehyung yelled.

“WHAT?!” Jimin shouted back, matching Taehyung’s energy.

“…I’m sorry,” Taehyung murmured under his breath, so quietly that Jimin wondered whether he’d imagined it.

“You’re what?”

“I said I was sorry, OK?” Taehyung exploded. “What do you want from me, Jimin? Do you want me to get on my knees and bow down to you?” he sneered, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing, eerily reminiscent of the team name emblazoned on his bright red race suit.

Jimin thought wryly that there could be no more appropriate match of driver and team than Kim Taehyung and Stallions. Wisely, however, he kept that to himself. “That won’t be necessary, Tae,” he said flippantly. “Just do your exercises, OK?”

The searing look Taehyung was directing at him seemed to raise the temperature in the room by several degrees. Melbourne in March was already quite hot enough. Jimin winced as sweat prickled at the back of his neck and under his arms.  

He needed to get out of there, and fast. Bolting out of the motorhome, Jimin gulped in lungfuls of slightly fresher air, hugging himself tightly in the process. Uncaring of how he might be perceived, he focused solely on his breathing until it slowly evened out.

“…Jiminie?” a familiar, slightly hoarse voice burst into his space. “Are you OK? You don’t look so good,” Jung Hoseok, Kim Seokjin’s performance coach and Jimin’s longtime friend, was saying as he waved a hand in front of Jimin’s face.

“Oh! Hobi-hyung! I’m fine,” Jimin reassured him, jumping back into reality feet-first.

“Driver issues?” Hoseok asked, a knowing glint in his gaze.

Jimin’s eye roll was confirmation enough. “It’s just that he’s, like, so fucking talented, hyung. If he would only take this half as seriously as someone like Kim Seokjin…” he trailed off. “Speaking of which, how is The King these days?”

Hoseok laughed, a deep, suggestive chuckle. “Oh, you know Seokjin. A place for everything, and everything in its place,” he drawled. His face sharpened a little with his next thought. “But seriously, though, Jimin-ah. He’s got the bit between his teeth, which is going to make him even tougher to beat,” Hoseok confided. “If Taehyung wants to get anywhere near the championship this year he’s going to have to work harder than he’s ever worked. Harder than he probably knows how to, even.”

Jimin’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “And you, of course, are hoping that he won’t,” he teased Hoseok.

Hoseok grinned and tapped the corner of his mouth. “I’m saying nothing. Anyway, Jiminie, I gotta go. I’ll catch you later, OK?”

Jimin couldn’t help but admire Hoseok’s boundless energy as his friend sprinted away. Even as he wished he could poach a small amount of it for himself.

*****

Qualifying Saturday dawned cool and windy. The lower track temperature caused several mishaps in the third Free Practice session, with nerves on full display and tempers fraying up and down the garages. Kim Seokjin, however, was quite calm. He was also pleased to note that the grandstands were full to bursting. The Australian crowd had turned out in full force, bringing their usual party atmosphere to the temporary track. It didn’t hurt, of course, that there were three Australians on the grid: Felix Lee and Christopher Bang from the MacPherson team, and rookie Jake Sim in the backmarker Picador. Seokjin had an inkling that the MacPhersons would be quite the challenge to beat at home, but he kept that to himself. His chief rival, of course, was the one sitting in the garage directly beside his own.

“Ten minutes until Q1, Jin,” Yoongi reminded him.

Time to start the process of getting in the car. No matter how many times he’d gone through the process, Seokjin never quite got used to having a member of the team buckle the strap between his legs. Averting his eyes was always the best practice, he had found. With a minute to spare before the pit lane opened, Seokjin was ready. He closed his eyes and took a moment to clear his mind of everything except the sequence of corners he needed to put together. The moment the team gave the go-ahead, Seokjin was peeling his car out of the garage and into the queue that had already formed to get out of the pits. He let out a small chuckle at the other drivers’ clear enthusiasm after a long off-season. As the lights went green, Seokjin’s foot found the accelerator and just like that, the first qualifying session of the season had begun. Seokjin no longer had to think about what he was doing – he’d done so many laps of this track on the simulator that he could drive it with his eyes closed if it came to that. Flying around the track. Seokjin couldn’t help but feel confident when he crossed the finish line for the first time.

“Great start, Jin,” Yoongi’s voice came through his headset after everyone’s first hot laps had come in. “Comfortably through at this point.”

“What position am I in?” Seokjin asked.

Yoongi paused.

“Well, come on, tell me,” Seokjin muttered impatiently.

“P2,” Yoongi admitted.

“Who the fuck put in a faster lap than that at this stage of qualifying?” Seokjin fumed.

“Jin, keep your cool, there’s still two more sessions to go-“

“I don’t care. Tell me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi sighed. “Sure, since you insist. Your teammate, that’s who.”

Crush him, Seokjin’s father’s voice echoed in his mind.

“That’s P1, Gukkie!” Choi Yeonjun crowed, his excited voice a little harsh on Jeongguk’s ears. However, he could forgive his stalwart engineer for that particular indiscretion, given the circumstances.

“WOOHOO!” Jungkook shouted, his car weaving from side to side as he settled into his cool-down lap.

“It’s only Q1, dude, chill,” Yeonjun reminded him.

“Who’s in the top 5?”

“You, Kim Seokjin, Kim Taehyung, Felix Lee and Chris Bang.”

“Oh, nice! The home crowd will be happy,” Jeongguk grinned, genuinely thrilled.

“Lay it on me, Hyungsikkie,” Taehyung drawled.

“That’s hyung to you,”  Park Hyungsik, his rather serious new race engineer, corrected him.

Taehyung’s eye roll was almost audible. “Yeah, whatever. Where’d I end up?”

“P3,” Hyungsik admitted. “Behind Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Seokjin.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle. “Jeez, that new kid is fast.”

“You’ve got more speed in there,” Hyungsik informed him. “Keep your foot in a little more at turn 4 and you’ll save a couple of tenths.”

“Yes, sir,” Taehyung shot back, nursing the car back to the garage in preparation to start the second session.

Jeon Jeongguk remained comfortably at the top of the times in Qualifying 2, with Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung snapping at his heels. Taehyung’s teammate, the American driver Vernon Chwe, put in a solid time to land himself in fifth, flanked by the home heroes Felix Lee and Chris Bang in their striking orange MacPhersons.

As Kim Seokjin pushed the visor down on his helmet for Qualifying 3, he felt resolve surge within himself. He’d studied the telemetry from his teammate’s fastest laps and while he was impressed with Jeongguk’s skill and audacity, The King was more than ready to rise to the challenge. Gritting his teeth, he jostled his way to into some clean air to begin his first push lap. The moment he crossed the start/finish line, Seokjin clicked directly into the zone. Each corner flowed smoothly into the next, the Silver Bullet’s straight-line speed utterly peerless.  Seokjin’s car position remained millimetre-perfect as he practically glided around the track. Drivers on their warm-up laps stayed well off the racing line, allowing Seokjin unfettered progress toward the finish. As he crossed it, the crowd broke into a roar that was loud enough to be heard over the scream of his engine.

Yoongi’s excited voice blared in his headset. “Jin! That’s a new lap record! Where did you pull that out from?”

Seokjin let out a surprisingly raucous laugh. “The King is back, they’ll say. But the truth is, I never left.”

“I can see the headlines now,” Yoongi admitted. “I’d say the rest of the field will have a lot of trouble matching that time. But don’t forget, you all still have another run to go.”

As he crossed the line after his second and final push lap, Jeongguk knew instinctively that it hadn’t been quite enough.

“Sorry, Gukkie. That’s P2,” Yeonjun informed him gently. “Which, I might add, is a spectacular position to start in for your first ever F1 race.”

Jeongguk couldn’t hold back a small smile. Yeonjun had been his race engineer since Formula 3, and this promotion had been a huge step for him, too.

“Not bad, huh, Jjunie,” he agreed, even as the sting of being second best throbbed throughout his body.

“You know, your time was faster than Seokjin’s first lap,” Yeonjun admitted. “He just found that extra something in the second- wait, what the fuck?” Yeonjun blurted out.

The crowd erupted into a roar unlike anything Jeongguk had ever heard. Glancing up at one of the screens as he passed it on track, he blanched as he registered the initials KTH at the top of the pile.

“Taehyung, that’s P1!” Hyungsik hollered. “I wasn’t sure if you’d make it over the line in time to put in a lap, but you did it with half a second to spare. That’s a new all-time lap record, breaking Kim Seokjin’s from… thirty seconds ago,” he informed his driver.

“WOOOOOOOHOOOOO!” Taehyung screamed, his voice distorting the mic as it was broadcast to millions of people worldwide. “Poooooooole position!”

Taehyung’s thoughts immediately flashed to Jimin. Hopefully this would show his performance coach what Taehyung was made of. Maybe even get him off his back a bit… Ugh, why was he thinking about Jimin when he was in the car? He shook his head a little as if to clear it.

“Well done,” Hyungsik said sincerely, breaking Taehyung’s train of thought. “You really put that lap together beautifully.”

“Stallion on top! Just as it should be,” Taehyung snickered rudely. “Where did Vern end up?”

“Sixth,” Hyungsik admitted. “A decent lap, but lost it a little in turn 10.”

“Ah, shame. Maybe he can make some positions up in the race-“

A collective sound of disappointment rose from the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asked, his sharp ears picking up everything.

“Tae,” Hyungsik’s voice cut through, “you’re not gonna like this. The stewards have deleted your time for a track limits violation. So I’m afraid that puts you back in P5.”

“Fuckers,” Taehyung muttered under his breath. He knew he’d get a talking to about his language, given it was quite possible they were broadcasting his reaction live. But in that moment, he couldn’t have cared less. Let them fine him, or whatever they wanted to do. These assholes needed to know the effect their stupid mealy-mouthed rule following had on the drivers.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Tae. I’m just rewatching the footage of your lap, and I’m afraid it was Turn 9, all four wheels off the track. Only by about a millimetre, but rules are rules,” Hyungsik soothed.

The moment Taehyung was unclipped from his safety restraints, he pushed himself out of the car and stormed off to his driver room, slamming the flimsy door behind him. Refusing to talk to anyone, he waited until the rest of the team had left the paddock and most of the fans had gone home before flooring his loan car through Melbourne’s dark streets.

By the time he’d reached his accommodation, Taehyung had come to terms with the fact that having his lap deleted was undeniably shitty. The truth was, however, that he couldn’t afford to waste any more time sulking about it. He knew that he had to get his head right for tomorrow or the entire weekend would be a complete waste of his resources. After he’d spent so long in the shower that his skin resembled that of a prune, Taehyung laid on his back and opened YouTube. Immediately, his finger gravitated toward one of his go-to meditation videos. In honesty, Taehyung thought that meditation was mostly nonsense. But it was soothing nonsense, and there was some solace to be found in that. Gradually, his breathing evened out and he moved into a place where he could observe his thoughts and feelings without judgement. Allowing himself to float away on the woman’s mellow voice, Taehyung realised that one particular part of the meditation held a special resonance for him.

“Allow your mind to drift to somewhere that you feel entirely safe. This can be a place, a feeling, or even a person – doesn’t matter which, as long as it feels right to you.”

It wasn’t a matter of conscious thought. Taehyung’s mind immediately conjured up a small face with high cheekbones, an adorable button nose, expressive eyes and the softest-looking lips he’d ever seen in his life. It took Taehyung a good few moments to recognise that the face filling his mind was none other than that of Park Jimin.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed.

Taehyung ripped himself roughly out of his meditative state and bolted into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Desperate, he tried to forcibly scrub Jimin’s image from his mind’s eye. No matter how much water he used or how hard he pressed with his fingers, he couldn’t erase Jimin’s face from his consciousness.

Taehyung simply didn’t understand. Why was Jimin popping into his head as a symbol of safety? Jimin? Frankly, he was a massive pain in Taehyung’s ass, and if he wasn’t so damn good at his job, Taehyung would have gotten rid of him years ago…

It’s true, though. He does make you feel safe, an unwanted inner voice piped up. What would you do without him?

“Shut the fuck up!” Taehyung roared at nobody in particular. Frustrated and keyed up, Taehyung was tempted to wreak some destruction on his hotel room. Pulling himself up short, he realised that his reputation was already precarious enough without adding criminal damage to the mix. So naturally, he resorted to his usual way of dealing with frustration – by loading up PornHub and shoving a hand inside his boxers. By the time he’d spilled his load over the visual of a slender, blonde man getting his plump ass thoroughly eaten, Taehyung had finally wound down enough to get some sleep.

As his eyes began to drift closed, his phone pinged with a message.

“Oh for fu-“ he cursed, biting down on his irritation enough to open the text.

Park Jimin (23.04):

Sorry to text you so late.

I just wanted to check in and see how your mental state is after what happened in qualifying.

Given that’s a part of my job, and all.

Blood rushing through his veins, Taehyung felt his heart pounding heavily in his chest. Abruptly, he remembered some words Jimin had told him some time ago, during one of their sessions on mental wellbeing.

“Sometimes knowing why is a luxury we can’t afford. Better to accept things as they are and find a way to sit with them.”

In truth, Taehyung had no idea why Jimin was so prominent in his mind. Sighing, he acknowledged that he didn’t have the luxury of knowing why, right now, so he’d have to find a way to sit with it.

Or he could simply ignore Jimin’s text, hide his phone under the spare pillow and take refuge in the deep, dreamless sleep he could always summon the night before a race.

And that was precisely what he did.

*****

Scrunching his eyes into tiny crescents, Jeongguk inhaled the sweet, slightly pungent ambience of the pit lane. The scent of racing fuel clung to everything, even his own skin. While that was something he’d long since become used to, his heart throbbed in a brand new way when he allowed himself to ponder the magnitude of what he was about to do.

He, Jeon Jeongguk, son of a single mother from Busan, was about to start the Australian Grand Prix from the front row, alongside his hero Kim Seokjin. Although hopefully he wouldn’t remain alongside him for long. Jeongguk’s rapid starts were a point of great pride. He’d spent a good amount of time honing his laser-like focus with the sole purpose of getting ahead of Seokjin off the line. If he could do that, he’d be able to control the race from the front. Letting The King keep hold of the lead meant that everyone else might as well go home.

Namjoon waved him down, indicating that it was almost time to head to the grid.

“Good luck, kid,” Namjoon grunted. “Just do what we know you can, and you’ll be fine.”

Gritting his teeth, Jeongguk nodded at Namjoon and made his way to the car. In one fell swoop, Jeongguk cleared his mind of everything except the track layout and the manoeuvres he would need to perform for the next hour and a half of his life.

It was time to go.

To his immense irritation, Seokjin’s heart rate would not slow down. Throughout all his years in the sport, it had never been this high in the lead-up to the formation lap. Unflappable, glacial calm was a Kim Seokjin trademark, for goodness’ sake! A fatalistic voice in the back of his mind informed Seokjin that today was not like any other day. This race was not like any other race, and the man beside him on the front row of the grid was definitely not like any other opponent.

And still, he was the one starting from pole position.

Thank heaven that Kim Taehyung’s lap had been disallowed, Seokjin thought to himself. Not that he was surprised. Though undeniably fast, not to mention creative with his strategy calls from within the car, the Stallions driver often let himself down with small, sloppy mistakes that led to major consequences. Indeed, Kim Taehyung was no match for Kim Seokjin. Never had been, and Seokjin suspected that he probably never would be. Worrying about that flamboyant show-pony was purely a waste of Seokjin’s time and intellect.

As the track clock ticked over to 15.00, Seokjin began to do what he had done so many times before, leading the field on their formation lap.

Fuming inside his helmet, Taehyung tried desperately to clear his mind. And yet, the smug face of the incredibly rude grid reporter seemed burned on to his retinas. The man had smiled, all wide eyes and superficial charm, and asked Taehyung precisely how he felt about his qualifying lap being disallowed. Taehyung had kept his sunglasses on, simply answering “It is what it is,” in a rather curt tone. The reporter hadn’t taken the hint, however, pointing out that it was a real shame for the fastest ever lap around Albert Park circuit to have been disallowed because of a silly mistake. Upon hearing that, the mist behind Taehyung’s eyes had been redder than the paint job on his Stallion race car. He’d desperately wanted to pick up the annoying little reporter, throw him into the crowd, and let them deal with him. What he had done, however, was to bare his teeth and remind the ridiculous little man that points were awarded on Sunday, not Saturday.

Oh. The cars ahead of him were moving. Formation lap. As if by magic, Taehyung’s fury became channelled into fierce concentration as he followed the top four cars around the slow preparatory lap, taking care to thoroughly warm up his tyres before coming to rest in his position on the third row.

Finally, all 20 cars were situated in their grid boxes. The hum of the engines was almost hypnotic, the crowd silent as they watched the five red lights go on, hold, and then…

The deafening roar of 20 turbocharged V6s bloomed in the air as they all sped off the line.

Hurtling toward the first corner, Jeongguk gritted his teeth as he pulled alongside Seokjin. Brazenly, he toughed it out around the outside, inching his nose ahead. Seokjin, however, was far too clever for that. Leaving just enough room for his teammate, Seokjin kept his foot in and followed the ideal racing line, forcing Jeongguk to the edge of the track and making him concede the position.

“Clever old bastard,” Jeongguk muttered inside his helmet. Never mind, he’d have many more chances to get him over the next fifty-eight laps.

Having started on the soft tyres, whereas those around him were on the mediums, Taehyung was increasingly frustrated by his lack of opportunities to overtake. By lap 12 he was still in fifth place, held up by the inferior corner speed of Chris Bang’s MacPherson. Hyungsik informed him that the rest of the top five were all in the positions they’d started in, which was something, at least… He allowed himself a brief thought that the Australian Grand Prix had served up some late drama in recent years. Perhaps, Taehyung mused, he might be able to capitalise on that.

The first round of pit stops passed without drama. Jeongguk’s attempt to undercut Seokjin had missed the mark due to a spectacular in-lap from The King which got him back out a second and a half ahead of his teammate. Taehyung’s curiosity was piqued when he noticed that Chris Bang had emerged from his stop ahead of Felix Lee. He’d love to be a fly on the wall at the MacPherson debrief later… However, he had his own race to drive, and it was better he focused on that.

“Tyres are feeling great, Hyungsikkie,” Taehyung drawled casually. He could practically feel his engineer bristle through the radio and yet, he knew that Hyungsik wouldn’t dare to admonish him in the middle of a race.

“Good to know, Tae. Keep up that pace if you can.”

“Of course I can. I’m Kim Taehyung,” he responded, ending his transmission with a sarcastic laugh. Quietly, Taehyung resolved to save a little bit of life in his tyres wherever possible. He couldn’t explain why, but he simply couldn’t shake an inkling that it would come in handy.

With twelve laps to go, Jeongguk’s patience was fast running out. Still in second place, he’d searched desperately for the perfect opportunity to throw an overtake down the inside of Seokjin. Heck, he’d settle for the outside, if that was all he could get. But not a single chance had come. Complaining to his engineer had been futile, as Jeongguk was well aware that Seokjin had ingested the entire rule book and knew exactly what he could and couldn’t get away with. Still, Jeongguk knew he was faster. If he could just catch Seokjin off guard, he’d be through…

“The MacPhersons have pitted, Guk. Bang and Lee are line astern, fifteen seconds adrift of Kim Taehyung, who is seven seconds behind you and hasn’t done his second pitstop yet. So you and Seokjin both still have a comfortable gap to pit in.”

“Jeez, what is Taehyung waiting for, a written invitation? Thanks, Jjunie,” Jeongguk muttered. “Maybe with fresh tyres I can-

“Whatever you do, keep it clean, Jeongguk,” Namjoon’s imposing voice boomed over the radio. “I’m not going to impose team orders at this point in the season, but you know what I expect.”

A flash of fire ignited in Jeongguk’s belly. Now all he could think of was getting ahead of The King, knowing he’d stop at nothing in order to achieve it. Despite what Namjoon had said.

“Taehyung, box, box,” Hyungsik informed him.

“No.”

“No?” Hyungsik repeated, incredulous. “You’re not going to pit? Surely your tyres are hanging by a thread-“

“Just trust me, hyung. I want to stay out another lap or two.”

Hyungsik paused, clearly conferring with the team. “If you say so, Tae. On your own head be it. Jeon is pitting now, and we expect Kim Seokjin to be in next lap. Let us know when you want to come in.”

“Will do,” Taehyung replied breezily.

Seokjin breezed back on to the track after his perfectly smooth second pitstop, gratified to note that he was still a solid two seconds in front of his teammate. Ah, it had been so easy to keep the boy in his place after all, hadn’t it? Seokjin didn’t like to celebrate a win too early, but in this case, surely he could be forgiven for relaxing a little.

“Jin. Watch yourself. Jeon is closing in,” Yoongi’s voice crackled through his earpiece.

What? Seokjin thought. I had him covered, surely? Anyway, he won’t do anything stupid if he values his spot in this team, Seokjin soothed himself. Still, he upped his concentration just a little. With only nine laps to go, he could surely afford to. Yet Seokjin felt oddly nervous as he came over the start/finish line, which caused a momentary lapse of concentration. Unusually, he missed the apex at turn 1, leaving him vulnerable on the approach to turn 2. Seokjin’s rear view mirrors were suddenly full of an angry-looking silver car, bearing down on him at a rapid rate.

I can’t let this happen, I can’t let him beat me, Seokjin panicked.

In desperation, he jinked his steering wheel left to prevent Jeongguk from making the overtake.

It was then that Seokjin knew he had fucked up.

The screech of tyres, pushed past their limit of adhesion, followed by the sickening crunch of carbon fibre on carbon fibre as Jeongguk’s car ploughed into the back of Seokjin’s, sending them both careening off the track. Seokjin only vaguely registered the horrified screams of the crowd, feeling the G-force slam into him as his car came to a sudden stop in the barrier.

For a brief moment, Seokjin was incapacitated by dizziness. Almost instantly, however, it transformed into a bitter, brutal rage. Exploding out of the cockpit, he strode over to Jeongguk’s sorry-looking car and reached inside, shaking him by the shoulders.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” he spat, eyes wild with fury. “You should know that if you get that close you lose all downforce and become a passenger, you fool!”

Jeongguk shoved Seokjin’s hands away and climbed out of his own cockpit. “And you, with all your years of experience, should know never to move under braking! Scared I was going to win, were you?” he baited, shoving his face right into Seokjin’s.

“I won’t put up with this sort of shit from a rookie,” Seokjin spat, his lip curling derisively. “Learn to show some goddamn respect!”

Jeongguk snapped. “Oh, fuck you, old man,” he screamed, shoving Seokjin hard enough to make him bounce off the barrier.

“I’m only five years older than you, asshole!” Seokjin yelled, pushing Jeongguk in the chest.

“Well maybe you should start acting like it!”

Hands grabbed at both of them, pulling them apart. Two marshalls subdued Seokjin and another two held a still-snarling Jeongguk.

“You two gonna calm down or do we have to restrain you?” a burly Australian asked loudly.

“I’ll be calm,” Seokjin muttered.

“Me too,” Jeongguk grudgingly agreed.

The marshalls escorted them swiftly off the track as the safety car was deployed, effectively neutralising the race.

Taehyung couldn’t resist a sardonic laugh. “Told you, Hyungsikkie. I think I’ll pit now, OK?”

Hyungsik failed to hide his amusement. “Sure thing, Tae. We’ll be ready.”

After pitting for fresh medium tyres, Taehyung re-emerged in third position. If that was the best he could do, well, it wasn’t too bad given where he’d started. The MacPhersons weren’t going to be real threats for the championship anyway, and with the Silver Bullets spectacularly tripping over their own feet, Taehyung was in an excellent position. As the field trundled around behind the safety car for five more laps, Taehyung was lulled into a kind of trance, weaving the car from left to right and readying his tyres for the resumption of racing.

“Safety car in this lap,” Hyungsik informed him.

Taehyung felt his reflexes sharpen, training his full focus on the MacPherson of Chris Bang out in the lead. The very split second that Bang floored it, Taehyung floored it too. His speed advantage over the MacPhersons was such that he easily drove around the outside of Felix Lee at the very next corner, drawing a mixed reaction from the crowd.

“Sorry, Aussies,” he quipped. “One down, one to go.”

Chris Bang was a wily customer, Taehyung knew that much. So he’d have to be creative. Not for nothing was Taehyung known for his superb, almost superhuman car control, and he knew he’d need every bit of it here. Honing his focus, Taehyung’s mind supplied the perfect line for him to take to confound Bang’s defences. He’d need balls of steel to pull this one off…

Which of course he had. He was Kim Taehyung, after all.

Time seemed to slow down to a glacial pace as Taehyung glued his foot to the floor and aimed for the gap. As he’d expected, Bang hadn’t predicted the move and Taehyung’s excitement blossomed as his car pulled ahead of the Australian’s.

“Yeeeeeee-haaaaaaah!” Taehyung hollered as he came out of the corner in the lead of the race. “That’s how it’s done, boys!”

The Australian crowd, partisan as they may have been, were always willing to reward spectacular overtakes. And that one had been spectacular, all right. Rising to their feet, they cheered so loudly it surely would have been deafening in the grandstands.

“Well done, Tae. Now all you have to do is bring it home,” Hyungsik confirmed.

By the time Taehyung took the chequered flag, he’d opened the gap up to five seconds. Whooping and yelling as he crossed the finish line, Taehyung knew immediately that this win felt different to the nine races he’d won before.

“That’s P1, Tae. Also, you took the fastest lap. So that’s 26 points,” Hyungsik informed him.

For a moment, Taehyung was speechless as he basked in the raw emotion flooding through his body.

His neck fucking hurt, though. But no matter. He’d deal with that later.

As he soaked up the crowd during his cool-down lap, his team boss’ voice came over the radio.

“Taehyung, my man! What a spectacular drive. Excellent strategy calling, as usual,” Seojoon boomed, delighted.

Taehyung chuckled. “Thanks for getting the team to listen to me, hyung.”

“Leave Hyungsik to me,” Seojoon confided. “He’ll soon understand that your strategy decisions are to be treated with the utmost respect.”

Parking his car in the number one spot. Taehyung leaped out of his cockpit and straight into the arms of his red-suited team members. Even Vernon, who’d finished a lonely fourth, had legged it back in time to congratulate him.

He didn’t see Jimin amongst them, however. Taehyung firmly told himself not to be bothered about that.

By the time Taehyung stood on the top step of the podium, his cheeks hurt from smiling and his throat was hoarse from happy laughter. After he had graciously received the winner’s trophy, he placed it on the floor beside him and took up the magnum of sparkling wine that he was supposed to spray all over his fellow podium finishers. Catching Chris Bang’s eye, Taehyung smirked and popped the cork. Instead of spraying the others, Taehyung angled it directly into his own mouth, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of fizz until he couldn’t manage any more. Then, with a jubilant cry, he shook it up and aimed the spray at the Aussies. When his vision eventually cleared, Chris Bang was holding up one of his driving boots in front of Taehyung’s face, the crowd chanting “Shoey! Shoey! Shoey!”

Taehyung tilted his head quizzically.

“Like this,” Felix Lee explained, pouring his own boot full of sparkling wine and downing it all in one go. “It’s an Aussie sporting tradition!”

Taehyung burst into raucous laughter. These Aussies certainly knew how to have a good time. Gingerly, he took the proffered boot from Chris and put it to his lips, careful not to savour the taste too much.

“Aaargh!” he uttered in mild disgust as he threw the empty boot away and gulped some fresher-tasting wine directly from his bottle. By this point, Taehyung was swaying a little, but who the fuck cared? He’d just won the Australian Grand Prix. Which meant that he, Kim Taehyung, was currently in the lead of the Formula 1 World Championship.

Maybe, just maybe, this year would be different.  

*****

After being released from the medical centre once they’d been checked over and found to have nothing but superficial bruising, Jeongguk and Seokjin had been summoned to Namjoon’s office. Neither of them were able to look at the other. Nor at Namjoon himself.

“You two assholes are so lucky that neither of you are hurt,” Namjoon seethed. “What the hell were you thinking? Neither one of you made a good decision back there. I’m not going to apportion blame, because as far as I’m concerned, you both should have known better.”

Jeongguk looked down at his lap. Seokjin slyly snuck a glance at Jeongguk, desperate to see how his teammate was dealing with this situation. The stricken look on the rookie’s face touched a sore point in Seokjin’s chest. Mentally, he shook himself. There was no room for him to feel sorry for the kid.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon-ssi,” Jeongguk said quietly. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Damn right you will,” Namjoon fumed. “Seokjin, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Nothing except that I’ll also do better,” Seokjin murmured, almost under his breath.

Namjoon rubbed at his temples in exasperation. “Your cars are going to need a total rebuild in the week between now and Shanghai,” he sighed. “I’ll expect you both to give the mechanics a formal apology for making them do so much extra work.”

Both Seokjin and Jeongguk agreed to do so, regret etched deeply in the lines on their faces. Once he’d secured the promise of an apology, Namjoon stood up.

“I’m getting out of here. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll both do the same. Keep your heads down as you leave, OK? Goodbye.”

Jeongguk watched Namjoon stride out of his office, leaving he and Seokjin alone. Sheepishly, he glanced over at his teammate, ready to clear the air.

“You’d better not get any ideas, you little upstart. I’ll be watching you,” Seokjin spat, hurrying out of the office and leaving Jeongguk alone, his mouth falling open in shock.

*****

Showered, coiffed and dressed in head-to-toe designer clothing, Taehyung threw his head back as he tipped yet another shot of vodka down the smooth column of his throat. To say that he scrubbed up well was nowhere near praise enough. Taehyung looked like a Michelin-starred meal, and he knew it. The fact that he’d won today’s Grand Prix made him hotter still, he reflected wryly. It seemed as though everybody wanted him, even more so than usual. The fact was, Taehyung had been fending off admirers since he’d set foot in this club with Vernon approximately an hour ago. In quieter moments, he reflected that perhaps his shirt was unbuttoned just a tad too low, with a little too much toned, golden chest on display.

Perhaps.

But perhaps Taehyung didn’t give a flying fuck about that, given floating on the intoxication produced by winning and far too much alcohol. The only real question in his mind was which way would he go, today? Did he crave a woman, all curves and softness, or was it a man who’d make his blood fizz and his desire burn hot?

He’d wait and see what opportunities presented themselves. Either way, he knew he’d get laid. He was Kim Taehyung, after all.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Tae,” Vernon told him as he slipped away with his hand on a petite young woman’s back.

Taehyung knew exactly what Vernon intended to do with her. He also knew that Vernon would give the girl a fake phone number and block her on all social media to avoid the inevitable “clinginess” that would follow such a tryst. At least Taehyung was kind enough to let his one night stands down gently. Speaking of which, a very attractive man had just appeared in his field of vision. Now this was interesting…

Taehyung leaned in, catching a whiff of the man’s sultry perfume. “Do you like to go fast, baby?” he purred in his ear. Luckily, Taehyung knew he was more than desirable enough to get away with terrible pick-up lines.

The man scoffed. “Depends. What are your qualifications?”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed as he gave the man a predatory smile. “I’m the fastest man on four wheels.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” the man said airily. “Kim Taehyung, isn’t it? My younger brother is a huge Formula 1 fan.”

“But not you?”

“Not me,” the man confirmed. “I prefer motorbikes, myself. Try going at those crazy speeds without a shell of carbon fibre protecting you and then talk to me,” he teased.

“Now why would I do that? I wouldn’t want to spoil all of this,” Taehyung indicated his body, his stomach lurching in delight as he noticed the man’s pupils dilating.

“Lucas,” the man introduced himself. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’d be delighted,” Taehyung replied archly.

Two stiff vodkas and thirty minutes later, Taehyung was being pressed up against the door of a bathroom stall as Lucas left open-mouthed kisses all over his long, honey-toned torso, undoing the remaining buttons of Taehyung’s shirt as he made his way down. Taehyung couldn’t stop himself from letting out a moan as Lucas cupped his fast-swelling cock in one hand.

“You’re a big boy, I see,” Lucas murmured.

“Think you can take it?” Taehyung baited him.

“I know I can,” Lucas replied airily.

“Prove it, then,” Taehyung retorted, slightly unsteady on his feet as the many drinks caught up with him. But there was no time to dwell on that, not when Lucas was putting his nimble fingers to good use by unzipping Taehyung’s trousers. He hissed in sheer relief as his engorged cock found more room to move, growing harder by the second.

The way Lucas was looking at his cock had Taehyung’s blood fizzing with excitement. He knew he probably wouldn’t last long, given he was so pent-up from the adrenaline rush of the race. Honestly, though, it didn’t matter. He was hardly likely to see Lucas again. And the way this pretty boy was gazing at Taehyung, as though he was about to get the face-fucking of his life, was already enough to spark off the beginnings of pleasure deep in his core.

“Do you want me to come on your face, or down your throat?” Taehyung drawled, gently caressing Lucas’ cheek.

“I don’t care where. Just give it to me,” Lucas whined, mouthing at Taehyung’s shaft over his already damp underwear.

Taehyung’s breath hitched as Lucas finally freed him from his silken boxers and allowed the tip of Taehyung’s cock into his mouth. The heat felt like a furnace, the suction so delectable that Taehyung’s eyes immediately rolled back in pure sensual delight. Lucas took his time, laving up and down Taehyung’s shaft and moaning as though he was enjoying a particularly tasty treat. Taehyung had been correct in his assumption that he wouldn’t last long, waves of intense pleasure threatening to break already. Grabbing a handful of Lucas’ hair, he held his head steady and bucked his hips once, twice, three times. Taehyung’s balls began to tighten as he edged ever closer to that sweet precipice. Oh, he was so goddamn close… Just a little more and -

The door to the stall crashed open and Taehyung’s vision whited out as a powerful camera flash momentarily blinded him.

“What the FUCK?” he roared. Pulling out of Lucas’ mouth, he hurriedly zipped up his trousers. “Haven’t you ever heard of privacy? Get the hell out of here!”

Just as Taehyung was about to crumple into a pit of despair, a familiar blonde head appeared.

Jimin!

Taehyung was so relieved to see his performance coach that he didn’t even think to question his presence at such a bizarre moment.

“Listen to me, and listen well, you fucker,” Jimin intoned dangerously, pinning the photographer in place with his stony glare. “You are going to tell me what I need to do to make this disappear. And then I will watch as you delete the photos from your memory cards. After that, you will never speak of this again. Do I make myself clear?”

The paparazzo’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out. Jimin growled and shot out an arm, gripping the man’s neck. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?” he enunciated, his eyes flashing with cold, hard fire.

“Three thousand,” the man choked out. “Cash. And I’ll delete everything,” he acquiesced.

Taehyung vaguely registered Lucas gaping at Jimin in astonishment. Though that was the least of his worries right now.

Jimin released the man’s neck and reached into his own pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he counted out three thousand Australian dollars in hundred-dollar bills.

“Memory card,” he grunted coldly.

The man made a show of deleting the photos. Jimin, however, wasn’t satisfied with that, his eyes squinting and mouth forming a hard line.

“Give it to me,” he insisted. The man made as if to protest, but when Jimin raised his arm again he babbled an apology and handed it over.

“Vile blood-sucking scum,” Jimin snarled in the man’s face. He dropped the memory card on the floor and crushed it with the heel of his Chelsea boot. “Now get the fuck out of here before I do something I’ll regret.”

The man’s eyes bugged out in sheer visceral fear. Almost tripping over his own feet, he sprinted out of the bathroom.

A wave of nausea buckled Taehyung at the knees, giving him just enough time to lean over the toilet bowl before the mostly-liquid contents of his stomach hit the pan with a loud splatter.

“Ugh, gross,” Lucas breathed.

Which only served to remind Jimin of his presence. Sighing, Jimin pushed his hair back with one hand and glanced coolly at Lucas. “We’re not going to have any problems with you selling your sordid little story, are we?”

Lucas shook his head vigorously. “Uh. Well, I’m not out to my family, so…”

Jimin scoffed. “So it’s safe to say that you won’t be telling the world that you sucked a Formula 1 driver’s dick in a club bathroom.”

Lucas hesitated, then shook his head a little less vigorously. In the background, the sound of Taehyung throwing up echoed balefully throughout the room.

“You’d better go,” Jimin said pointedly. “He’s clearly in no state to finish what he started.”

Stammering a goodbye, Lucas couldn’t seem to get out of there fast enough.

With a heavy exhale, Jimin sank down to Taehyung’s level. “This might be a dumb question, but how are you feeling?”

Taehyung let out a small whimper. “Like shit. Neck hurts,” he admitted.

“That’ll teach you not to do your training properly, you idiot,” Jimin sassed. Upon seeing Taehyung wince, he softened his tone a little. “Do you think you can walk? I’ve got a car waiting out the back.”

Slowly, Taehyung straightened up, leaning on the wall for support. He was able to take one step before dizziness overwhelmed him, his knees buckled and he crashed to the floor. “No,” he groaned.

Muttering curses under his breath, Jimin crouched down. “Get on my back,” he ordered. “But if you vomit in my hair I’ll make you regret it for the rest of your life.”

Limp and surprisingly heavy, Taehyung clung to Jimin’s back as they navigated their way past drunken club patrons on the busy dance floor. By the time Jimin had manhandled Taehyung into the back seat of the black SUV, he was fast asleep. Or passed out, one or the other.

Jimin didn’t really care which.

Fuming silently, he stared daggers at Taehyung’s prone form. Once they’d arrived, the man in the driver’s seat turned around and offered Jimin some assistance in getting Taehyung up to his room.

“Thanks, Hyungsik-hyung, but I’ll be all right on my own,” Jimin responded gratefully. “I appreciate you driving me.”

“It’s no problem, Jimin,” Hyungsik replied. “Sometimes we all have to band together to save him from himself. I’m slowly coming to terms with that,” he laughed.

“Lucky I just happened to be scrolling Instagram when that random guy posted the live video of Taehyung downing a row of vodka shots, huh?” Jimin murmured. Unclipping Taehyung’s seatbelt, he attempted to shake him awake. “Tae. You gotta come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” Taehyung mumbled, pressing his face directly into Jimin’s neck.

Jimin felt the tips of his ears turning warm. “Get up,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Or am I going to need to carry you again?”

Taehyung’s eyes flew open. “Jimin? You’re here again. Always saving me,” he murmured faintly.

Exhaling heavily in exasperation, Jimin walked around to Taehyung’s side of the vehicle and crouched down. “Get on my back again,” he ordered. When Taehyung’s arms and legs fastened around Jimin’s torso, clutching at him in a way that bordered on possessive, Jimin suppressed a shiver. With a groan of effort, he rose to his feet and staggered into the hotel, making the universal sign of silence toward the night receptionist. A short elevator ride later, and they were outside Taehyung’s room.

“Tae,” Jimin roused him, “I need your key card to get in.”

“ ‘S in my pocket,” Taehyung drawled. “The front left one.”

“I’m not reaching into your pocket for Christ’s sake-“

Jimin’s protest was cut off by an inelegant snore. Blowing air out through pursed lips, he lowered Taehyung down and stuck his hand gingerly in the pocket of Taehyung’s too-tight jeans. It was an enormous relief when his fingers landed on the keycard right away. Once he’d successfully unlocked the door, Jimin prodded at Taehyung, who was now curled in the foetal position in the hallway.

“I’m not carrying you again. Walk, crawl, drag yourself, just get inside,”  Jimin snapped.

Taehyung opened one eye, rose to his knees, and crawled over the threshold. The moment the door closed behind him, he slumped heavily on the carpet.

Jimin was just about to turn and leave when a pang of regret stopped him in his tracks. As much as he wanted to leave Taehyung to deal with the aftermath of his own poor decisions, he was too soft-hearted to leave him lying on the hard floor all night. Surveying the situation, he nevertheless gritted his teeth and resolved to try once more.

“Taehyung. Tae. I need you to wake up for me and when you do, we’re going to walk to your bed and you’re going to get in it, OK?”

A grunt.

“Taehyung!” Jimin yelled.

Taehyung’s eyes flew open in surprise.

“What?!” he responded in kind, shielding his eyes from the harsh light.

“Get your ass up and drag yourself to bed,” Jimin hissed. “It’s not good for your body to sleep on the floor,” he added weakly.

“Yes, sir,” Taehyung slurred, making a mock-salute as he stumbled to his feet.

Jimin hovered behind, ready to catch him if he fell again. After all, he’d be the one having to deal with rehabbing any injuries Taehyung might suffer…

“Oof,” Taehyung grunted as he landed face-first in the centre of his king-sized bed.

“Goodnight, Taehyung,” Jimin sighed, turning to make his way back to his own, much smaller room on a lower floor.

A warm, long-fingered hand grabbed his forearm. Jimin let out an involuntary gasp.

“Stay,” Taehyung breathed, so quietly that Jimin wasn’t sure if he’d heard or imagined it. But then, he felt a strong tug and he was collapsing on to the bed beside Taehyung. An arm looped around his midsection, effectively trapping him in place.

“Mmm. ‘S better. Night!” Taehyung drawled.

Less than a minute later, Taehyung was snoring loudly enough to wake the dead.

Jimin wasn’t quite so lucky. As he lay awake, staring into the darkness in the dead of night, he tried desperately not to think about why his heart was pounding, or why his stomach fluttered every time Taehyung shifted and pulled him closer in his sleep.

Because, if it meant what Jimin suspected it meant, it didn’t bear thinking about.

Chapter Text

“So, you’ll do it?” Namjoon asked, the purr of his resonant bass-baritone too seductive to refuse. Legs still intertwined, their bodies were glued together with a sheen of hard-won perspiration. And Namjoon was talking about business.

Hoseok supposed he was used to it.

“I mean, I can try,” he grudgingly agreed. “I can’t see it being easy, though-“

“Hoba, that’s exactly why I asked you,” Namjoon explained. “If anyone can do this, it’s Jung Hoseok.”

But what of my sanity? Hoseok thought. If he was honest with himself, he knew that Namjoon hadn’t given that particular aspect a second thought. Which was precisely why Kim Namjoon was the ideal team principal – visionary, commanding, and unemotional.

Even, as Hoseok was discovering, with his lovers.

They were currently at  the Ritz-Carlton in Shanghai for the second race of the season-opening double header. Well, Namjoon alone was staying there. Hoseok would sleep at the rather less upmarket Novotel along with the rest of the team personnel, not that he was complaining. Anyway, Hoseok thought to himself, it was far too early to start with the complaints. This year was set to be incomparably harsh on the drivers and teams, not to mention loved ones who would either be left behind or forced to travel constantly from March to December without any significant breaks. 

Hoseok had a moment of quiet satisfaction that his romantic attachments were with people firmly entrenched in the Formula 1 circus. So far, he’d managed to pursue both arrangements without the other lover finding out, but given they all worked for the same team, Hoseok wondered just how long he’d be able to keep that up.

Sometimes he wondered if Namjoon would even care. He knew, however, that Yoongi would.

Which led to him realising a little too late that Namjoon was speaking.

“…get the pair of them in the same room and explain how you’re going to do things. Don’t give them a chance to object,” he was saying. “Drivers, Hoseok, are like puppies. Adorable when they’re well-trained, and chaos when they’re allowed too much pull on the leash.”

Those are human beings he’s talking about, Hoseok mused. It was all well and good for Namjoon to issue orders in such a way, but in this case, Hoseok was the one who had to actually implement them. And he far preferred treating drivers like the intelligent life forms they (sometimes) were.

Hoseok’s phone chimed from the pocket of his trousers, which had been hurled somewhere on the other side of the room in their haste to undress each other. Suddenly, he was in desperate need of escape.

“Joon, I’ve gotta go. Meeting,” he said curtly. He extricated himself from their suffocating embrace and swiftly redressed, averting his eyes from Namjoon as he did so.

“You’ll think about what I said?”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Hoseok replied grimly.

*****

The noises Taehyung made while he was working out were really quite astonishing, Jimin reflected with amusement. If anyone had an ear to the door of this gym, they’d probably assume something indecent was occurring within its walls.

However, in reality it was nothing of the sort. As a matter of fact, Taehyung had been remarkably well-behaved since the events of the past weekend in Melbourne.

Suspiciously so, if you asked Jimin.

Taehyung had awoken on the Monday morning nursing a hangover that rendered him incapable of doing much except mope around emitting pitiful, vodka-scented whines. The moment his consciousness had come back online, however, he had apologised profusely to Jimin and sheepishly released him from his vice-like grip. Which was all well and good, except that Jimin hadn’t managed to sleep a wink that night and was utterly worn out. Until that point, he’d thought that Kim Taehyung was incapable of embarrassment. But it seemed he’d been wrong on that score. Taehyung had acted every inch the gentleman, ordering Jimin a room service breakfast even though he himself couldn’t stomach the thought of eating. He’d even insisted upon lending Jimin a clean shirt for his (commercial, economy class) flight to Shanghai later that day.  

Taehyung, naturally, had plans to travel by luxury chartered jet with Vernon and the next race’s home hero, the charismatic Chinese driver Xu Minghao. Jimin scrunched his face in disgust as he pondered the discrepancy between the lifestyles of the drivers and the lifestyles of their staff. Frankly, he really didn’t want to know what the conversation inside that aeroplane had been like. He supposed there was a lot of back-slapping and congratulating each other on their conquests, truncated as Taehyung’s may have been… though Jimin suspected he wouldn’t have let the others in on that particular aspect, given the choice.

A violent roar brought Jimin’s attention back to his charge.

“Finished those sets of glute bridges?” he asked casually. For some reason, Jimin hadn’t been able to bring himself to observe Taehyung, in his sweat soaked singlet and too-short shorts, hip-thrusting into the air. Not on this particular day.

“Smashed them,” Taehyung retorted. “Which you’d know, if you’d been paying attention.”

“Whatever. Go grab your dumbbells and do a set of goblet squats for me,” Jimin ordered, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the twin spots of colour on his cheeks. Fully expecting Taehyung to start kicking off, he was surprised when the usual whiny tone wasn’t forthcoming.

“OK, Jimin.”

Never had those words hit Jimin with such unexpected force. Without pausing for thought, he queried, “What’s gotten into you?”

Taehyung looked at him quizzically.

“I don’t get it. Everyone is always on my back about taking things more seriously, and when I do, you all look at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted another head. Whatever I do, I can’t win,” he sighed, moving into position for his next exercise.

Hold on… did he really just see a flash of hurt in Taehyung’s eyes?

Jimin ignored the pang of regret that twisted in his chest. Kim Taehyung was a master of manipulation, and it wouldn’t do to fall into his trap. No, Jimin wouldn’t allow himself to be swayed by Taehyung’s wistful sighs and regretful pouts. He’d simply be grateful that his driver was doing what Jimin asked of him, for once.

*****

“You’ve got to grow a tough outer shell in this game, kid. Stay soft, and you’ll have no hope.”

Jeongguk was forced to admit that Kim Seokjin had been right when he’d imparted that piece of wisdom about a year ago. However, Jeongguk hadn’t been expecting it to be Seokjin himself who would make armouring himself such a necessity. In the eyes of Jeon Jeongguk, aspiring racer, Kim Seokjin had been the ideal racing driver – unaffected by his emotions and always, always acting in a manner that was beyond reproach.

Not anymore.

Kim Seokjin had slipped up, showing Jeongguk an unexpected, and frankly, unwelcome side to himself. And now Jeongguk was forced to come to terms with the fact that his hero had feet of clay.

Yet a spark of excitement began to unfurl, deep in his gut, at the knowledge that he had been the one to precipitate that slip-up. Kim Seokjin was no longer infallible, and that, right there, was knowledge that held more value than gold.

To Jeongguk’s chagrin, however, he was unable to give his full focus to that knowledge, or even to the weekend’s racing. Matthew, his long-term performance coach, had informed him that due to his wife’s longed-for pregnancy, he would be resigning from his post to stay at home with her. His resignation would come into effect after the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix.

Of course Jeongguk was delighted for Matthew and his wife, but the fact remained that losing his performance coach was a major pain in his ass. The relationship between a driver and performance coach usually took a long time to build. He and Matthew had really only just settled into something that was comfortable for them both, and now he was quitting? Jeongguk’s head slumped into his waiting hands, deft fingers massaging his temples, where a headache was beginning to squeeze.

Namjoon had said he would sort it.

Namjoon would sort it.

But Jeongguk wasn’t used to relying on other people. He knew that was something he needed to work on, especially in this business. There was simply no way Jeongguk could manage every aspect of his life on his own, anymore, and still be the kind of driver he wanted to be. Grudgingly, he resigned himself to putting his complete trust in Namjoon. If worst came to worst and he found himself without a performance coach for a race or two, well, Jeongguk knew what to do. Didn’t he?

*****

Shanghai International Circuit, Shanghai, China

It was the moment he stepped out of his loan car at the circuit on Friday morning that Kim Seokjin became aware of the colossal magnitude of his fuck-up.

Reporters dogged his every step, lobbing questions at him such as “How are things between you and Jeon Jeongguk?”, “Have you forgiven him? More importantly, has he forgiven you?”,  “How are you two going to work together now?” Worst of all were the questions about his own mental state. “Is this a crack in The King’s façade? A sign that you’re no longer able to take the heat of such fierce competition?”

“No comment,” Seokjin grunted, keeping his head down and carving a path past the recording devices that were being mercilessly shoved into his face.

Crush him, his father’s voice repeated on a loop.

Upon arrival at the garage, Seokjin pointedly ignored Jeongguk, not sparing him so much as a glance. As for Jeongguk’s delighted snicker, and his whispered “So that’s the way you’re going to play it, then,” it was easier to pretend he hadn’t heard.

The Silver Bullets drivers remained neck and neck in Free Practice, with Jeongguk drawing first blood and Seokjin striking a hefty counter blow in the second session. Kim Taehyung, however, stunned them both with a blisteringly fast lap in Sprint Qualifying, leaving Jeongguk second and Seokjin fourth, behind Xu Minghao in third.

Seokjin felt his determination surge as he looked to the cars taking their positions on the grid ahead of him. With a heavy exhale, he acknowledged that Kim Taehyung was proving to be rather more of a thorn in his side than he had anticipated. Still, it was only the second race weekend of the year, and if previous seasons were any indication, the Stallions driver’s challenge would soon ebb away along with his concentration. Give Kim Taehyung a few more races and he’d be far more interested in his off-track antics than beating Seokjin.

As the five red lights flicked on, Seokjin’s inner panther began to purr.

With a deft flick to the inside, he was able to overtake Minghao off the line, immediately gluing himself to the rear wheels of Jeongguk’s car. As soon as the drag reduction system was enabled in lap 3, Seokjin rode a fierce slipstream to glide right by Jeongguk on the start/finish straight.

“Nicely done, Seokjin. Good and clean,” Namjoon praised him on the radio.

Seokjin ignored the implied dig at his defence in Australia, preferring to focus on the one car remaining ahead of him. When, a few laps later, Yoongi informed him that Jeongguk had slipped to fourth after a small excursion off-track, Seokjin used this to spur him on in his pursuit of Kim Taehyung. The Stallions driver had clearly hoped to use his legendary skill at extending the red-marked soft tyres beyond their stated life. Every other driver on the grid, however, was on the longer-lasting mediums. As clever as Taehyung may often prove to be, today it seemed like he’d made a major error in judgement. Seokjin could actually see the graining on the outside of Taehyung’s left hand tyres, and that wasn’t going to get better. Smirking to himself, Seokjin resolved to apply more pressure and simply wait for Taehyung to make a mistake. Experience had taught him that if he was patient, the opportunity would present itself.

It was lap 13 when things really started to go wrong. Taehyung’s tyre wear had become so dramatic that he was losing time in every corner because he couldn’t keep the car from sliding all over the track.

“What’s happening, Tae?” Hyungsik asked calmly.

“I fucked up. Shouldn’t have gone for the softs,” Taehyung replied flatly, knowing but not caring that the other teams would be listening in to his team radio broadcasts. “I’ve just got to try and hold on until the end of the race.”

“Do you want us to bring you in?”

Taehyung pondered it for a moment. Pit-stops were not mandatory in the sprint, but the short, nineteen lap duration meant that any advantage he’d gain with fresh tyres would be eaten up by the amount of time he’d lose in comparison to the other cars.

“Nah. I’ll tough it out,” he declared, swiftly correcting a swerve of understeer. Unfortunately, Taehyung was a mere spectator as Kim Seokjin’s Silver Bullet roared past, wrong-footing him and leading to a missed apex at the next corner.

“Fuck!” Taehyung muttered, desperately holding on to his concentration. Within the next lap and a half, he was in major strife. Minghao, in his blue-and-white Wilkins, had closed the gap. With far less damaged tyres, the Chinese driver was looking incredibly dangerous.

Taehyung had no choice but to concede second place. It was either that, or find himself in the gravel trap. He let out a long-suffering groan as Minghao zoomed past, eliciting huge cheers from the home crowd. His last hope, Taehyung realised, was to hold Jeon Jeongguk off and cling on to third place by the edges of his fingernails.

“You’ve got this, Tae. Two more laps to go. Jeon is two-point-five seconds behind. You’re losing time to him at the hairpin and a little on the straights, but otherwise your pace is surprisingly good,” Hyungsik informed him.

Good, perhaps, but not as good as Minghao’s, Taehyung noted as the Chinese driver placed himself directly in Kim Seokjin’s wheel tracks. A small, non-competitive part of him was delighted for his friend as Minghao sleekly demoted The King to second place, making the crowd rise to their feet. The crowd’s cheering rose to an explosive crescendo as Xu Minghao, in his Wilkins, pocketed an historic sprint victory. Kim Seokjin followed closely behind in second place.

With gritted teeth and tyres held together by sheer willpower, Taehyung finally crossed the finish line, a mere three tenths of a second ahead of Jeon Jeongguk. As he slowed dramatically, grateful for the reprieve, Taehyung mused that at least there was Grand Prix qualifying later and the main race tomorrow to make up for today’s near-disaster.

Getting his head right would be absolutely key.

Kim Seokjin seethed inside his helmet as he pointedly schooled his voice for the broadcast.

“Good job, Jin. Shame about losing P1, but those are some good points in the bag,” Yoongi sympathised.

“Ah well. Even The King can’t win them all,” Seokjin replied, hoping his voice sounded more jovial than he felt. “Let’s regroup and come back stronger,” he added, knowing that was what everyone expected to hear from him.

Meanwhile, Jeongguk was surprisingly pumped. Not only had he finished his first full F1 event, he’d placed fourth! Fourth! His childlike joy was only tempered by the fact that people would expect a Silver Bullets driver to be disappointed by missing out on the top three. So he, in turn, schooled his voice in a different way to his teammate.

“Not quite a podium, but at least I finished,” he said flatly.

“Sorry, Guk. I guess it’s true that Kim Taehyung can do things with tyres that nobody else can dream of,” Yeonjun commiserated.

Jeongguk let out a rather theatrical sigh. “Yeah. Maybe when I’ve been around as long as him I’ll be able to do that kind of tyre magic, too,” he quipped. “Anyway, no time to wallow. Got Grand Prix qualifying to think about.”

Listening in from his central position in the garage, Kim Namjoon’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. His drivers were behaving in exactly the way he’d hoped. Perhaps this season wouldn’t be so volatile after all.

*****

After the sprint podium, during which he and Kim Seokjin had put aside their usual coolness toward each other and lifted Minghao on to their shoulders in celebration of his first win, Taehyung wandered back to the garage with his face carefully blank. In the short turn-around between the sprint and Grand Prix qualifying, he needed to make sure he wasn’t wasting any mental energy. Well, he wasn’t, until fluffy blonde hair and full lips caught the edges of his gaze.

“Jimin!” he blurted out, noticing the shorter man freeze in place.

“Hi, Taehyung,” Jimin said cautiously.

“Just the person I need to see,” Taehyung informed him.

Jimin blanched. Taehyung had never sought him out during a race weekend before. Normally, it was Jimin who was tearing around trying to find him. “What’s up?” he asked, eyebrows quizzically raised.

Taehyung’s gaze dipped to the floor of the garage, one hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Uh, I was wondering if maybe… You know those guided meditations that you used to get me to do? Can you do one of those for me?” he blurted out, risking a glance at Jimin’s face.

His eyes widening and mouth falling open, Jimin let out a small sound of surprise. “Um. Sure, Tae. I’ll be free in about ten minutes, if you want to wait for me in your driver room?”

A whoosh of sheer relief flooded Taehyung’s chest as he made a sound of agreement, rushing off to change into something less stifling than his fireproof race suit.

Tucked away in a toilet stall, away from prying eyes, Jimin muffled a scream with his fist. Normally, Taehyung didn’t want anything to do with him between on-track sessions and if they did any training at all, mental or physical, it was at Jimin’s instigation. Given that, he’d really hoped to avoid Taehyung for the rest of the day. Jimin needed to protect his peace. Even though he’d been working with Kim Taehyung for several years and was well and truly used to him, Jimin was on high alert. The danger of him saying something incredibly stupid was ever-present. And Jimin was not a stupid man. After spending an unreasonable amount of time freaking out in the bathroom, Jimin realised he could no longer put off the inevitable. So, he splashed some icy water on his face and shuffled off to Taehyung’s driver room, giving the door a tentative knock.

“Oh, hey, Jimin,” Taehyung greeted him super casually as he flung the door open.

Does this man ever wear his clothes properly? Jimin panicked. His eyes refused to be torn away from the olive-toned skin of Taehyung’s torso, barely covered by an unzipped hoodie with no shirt underneath. Jesus, is that a nipple? Jimin wondered, vaguely scandalised. The grey sweatpants Taehyung wore were even worse, if such a thing was possible. With the most tenuous hold on his narrow hipbones, they still managed to cling suggestively to parts of Taehyung’s anatomy that Jimin was absolutely not going to think about, thank you very much.

“Come in, come in,” Taehyung offered, gesturing to his small sofa. “Where do you want me?”

Jimin’s breath hitched as his face burned crimson at the unintentional double entendre. Get a grip, Park, he chided himself. This is your driver, this is a normal thing for you to do for him. It’s all part of your job.

“Uhhh… You can just… It’s probably best if we sit beside each other on the sofa,” Jimin blurted out.

Taehyung flopped his rangy limbs down, spreading his legs wide and patting the cushion beside him with a cheeky grin. “Enough room left for you? Oh who am I kidding, you’re only tiny,” he teased, reaching out to boop Jimin’s nose.

“Hey,” Jimin uttered gruffly. “We may be born in the same year, but I’m still your performance coach. Show some respect!”

“Sorry,” Taehyung drawled, not sounding sorry at all. “I’ll be good, I promise,” he added, looking up at Jimin with an adorable, puppy-like expression.

Those eyes, Jimin thought briefly. He needed to gain control of his thoughts, and now.

Shaking his head rapidly, Jimin sat down. He would refuse to be swayed by Taehyung’s aegyo and that was that. “All right. Let’s get started. Now if you can just close or lower your eyes and turn your focus toward your breath…”

Jimin always closed his own eyes when he guided Taehyung in meditations. Taehyung knew this because he had always made a habit of peeking. Today was no exception. While Jimin’s gentle murmurs bathed his ears in cotton-wool softness, Taehyung cracked his eyes open just enough to study him. His stomach lurched as he came to the belated realisation that Park Jimin, whom he’d worked with for several years and had mostly thought about in the context of being a nagging pain in the butt, was cute. Like, really, gobsmackingly, adorably cute. Porcelain skin, delectably curved cheeks, and lips that looked softer than a truckload of feather pillows. For a wild moment, Taehyung wanted to lose himself in those lips.

God, I really need to get laid if I’m having these thoughts about Park Jimin, Taehyung thought. That’s all this is, just a dry spell, he managed to convince himself. Firmly closing his eyes, Taehyung allowed his focus to drift back to the meditation. If he wanted to feel the effects of Jimin’s efforts, he was better off putting in the work.

*****

After taking a short nap and reawakening himself with a triple espresso from the team’s top-notch coffee machine, Kim Seokjin felt rather more like himself. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug after Jeongguk’s failure to achieve the sprint podium – though, annoyingly, the kid himself didn’t seem particularly bothered. Either he hadn’t yet realised what was expected of a Silver Bullets driver and Kim Seokjin’s teammate, or he was enviably cool-headed.

Seokjin hoped it was the former.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, as the pit lane was about to open for Grand Prix qualifying.

The first two sessions passed uneventfully, and Seokjin was safely into Qualifying 3 with the fastest time. Though he knew he couldn’t relax just yet, he felt certain that he would be able to deliver a lap that would put him on pole position. He’d gotten the better of Taehyung in the sprint, and surely that was going to wreak havoc with the Stallion driver’s mental state. If previous encounters had been any indication, that was. Yes, Taehyung was fast, and clever. But he was also somewhat inconsistent, and Seokjin knew just how to exploit that to his own advantage. That’s what one needed in order to be a champion, let alone a three-timer, and Seokjin knew he had it in spades. Exhaling heavily, Seokjin directed his car into the pit lane and the screen of focus came down once more.

“You’re kidding me,” Jeongguk spat. “You can’t tell me that was legal? That fucker impeded me on my warm-up lap and ruined the start of my hot lap!”

“Sorry, Gukkie. We flagged it up to the stewards, but they ruled that Vernon was within the rules and gave you enough space to pass,” Yeonjun apologised. “I’m afraid that’s P2. Seokjin ahead by three tenths.”

“Oh for fucksake,” Jeongguk hissed under his breath. He mustn’t let it get to him. Only he’d really wanted to springboard off the sprint race and teach the old man a lesson he wouldn’t forget. Still, he thought, ever the optimist, I can get him off the line tomorrow.

“OK, Tae, you’ve got clear track ahead of you. Show those prissy little Bullets what a Stallion can do,” Hyungsik imparted as Taehyung rounded the final corner of his warm-up lap.

Shanghai had always been one of Taehyung’s favourite tracks, the complex layout suiting his mercurial driving style down to the ground. At this point, he no longer had to think about what corner was coming next, how much to adjust the steering wheel or any of the other factors within his control. Taehyung simply knew instinctively where to place the car, how late he could brake ahead of the corners and how quickly he could get back on the throttle without sending himself into a spin.

Crossing the line, Taehyung allowed himself a moment of satisfaction regarding the lap he’d just completed. It probably hadn’t been enough to dislodge the Bullets from the front row, but still, he was pretty sure it had been beautiful to watch. And that, sometimes, was even more satisfying than being fast.

“Um, Taehyung?” Hyungsik began tentatively.

Taehyung’s heart sank. What little hope he’d allowed for was about to be crushed, wasn’t it?

Hyungsik cleared his throat. “Whatever you ate for breakfast this morning, please eat it again. That’s POLE POSITION, BABY!”

Taehyung was momentarily speechless.

“I did it?” he whispered, unsure whether his microphone would pick it up.

“You sure did, Taehyungie!” Seojoon’s jovial voice filled his ears. “Showed that stuck-up German team some real Italian passion,” he quipped.

Taehyung had a private laugh at the fact that although most of the Stallions team was Korean these days, Seojoon was still trading on their Italian heritage. His next thought, however, was that he couldn’t wait to thank Jimin for helping him attain the right headspace.

Plump lips forced themselves into his mind’s eye. God, they were luscious. For a brief, insane moment, Taehyung thought he might like to bite them, to sink his teeth into the plump, rosy flesh. Jimin would make the sweetest sounds, Taehyung was certain of it…

“Tae, don’t forget to head to Parc Fermé,” Hyungsik reminded him. Which was lucky, as Taehyung hadn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention to where he was going.

These wild thoughts he was having about his performance coach really had to stop.

*****

“So you told him you’d do it?” Yoongi asked, pinning Hoseok with an incredulous glare.

Hoseok squirmed under his scrutiny. “What, exactly, was I supposed to do? You know what Namjoon is like,” he sighed, feeling a slight pinch in his chest at the omission of the circumstances under which Namjoon had asked. Here, in his own room at the Novotel, with Yoongi lying naked, warm, and pliant beside him, it was all too easy to gloss over unpalatable truths.

Yoongi sucked in air through his teeth. “Hoba, you’re making a rod for your own back, here, but you know that already,” he said grimly. “When do you need to tell them?”

Hoseok sighed. “Well, Matthew’s resignation takes effect after Saudi,” he said vaguely.

Yoongi’s sharp eyes flashed with amusement. “Great. So you have less than a month to figure out how this is all going to work. Always the overachiever, hmm?”

With determination, Hoseok flipped them so that Yoongi was on top of him, taking his lips in a fiery kiss. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” he murmured before diving in for a second taste. Like this, with his sharp edges eroded by the act of love, Yoongi tasted of ambrosia and pulled him in like a riptide. And Hoseok was utterly lost.

Indeed, words were in short supply over the next little while. It was only much later, when Yoongi snored quietly in his arms, that Hoseok allowed his heart to sink at what he’d gotten himself into.

*****

Grand Prix day in Shanghai was a riot of noise and colour. Buoyed by Xu Minghao’s historic sprint victory, the crowd were even more pumped than usual. Taehyung grimaced as he caught sight of yet another sign urging Minghao, who’d qualified in fourth, to ‘do the double for China’s sake’. He wondered whether these people gave any thought to the drivers’ feelings when they made such signs. Were they aware that most, if not all, Formula 1 drivers were intense perfectionists who could never do enough, or be enough, to live up to their own expectations of themselves? Add the expectations of the fans to that mixture and you had the perfect recipe for mental breakdowns. But do they care? Taehyung thought. They don’t see us as real people. To them, we’re just dolls who exist solely for their entertainment. Even though we risk our lives every time we go out on track.

During the driver’s parade, Taehyung sidled up to Minghao on their float and murmured, “You all right, Hao?” The way Minghao slumped slightly against his shoulder spoke volumes.

“I will be,” he gritted out. “I just have to do my best today.”

Taehyung patted him on the shoulder. “I know you will. Go and be your awesome self,” he encouraged, shooting Minghao a genuine smile before striding over to the other side of the float to wave at the crowd. In truth, Taehyung felt rather unsettled after the events of yesterday. After an interrupted night’s rest, interspersed with visuals of juicy pink lips and a halo of blonde hair, he’d dosed himself up with rather too much caffeine to be anywhere near a state of relaxation. Ashamed as he was to admit it, he’d actually hidden from Jimin this morning – ducking down behind Hyungsik’s workstation to avoid having to speak to him. Hyungsik had rolled his eyes and grinned fondly, assuming that Taehyung was up to his usual antics.

In reality, though, Taehyung was genuinely worried for his sanity. He’d need to find a way to regain control, and fast.

Pulling into his grid slot after the formation lap, Jeongguk allowed his eyes to focus briefly on the rear wing of Kim Taehyung’s Stallion directly in front of him. He was forced to admit to himself that he’d gained a little more respect for Taehyung since racing against him and experiencing firsthand what a fierce competitor he was. Kim Taehyung was easy to dismiss when one wasn’t in direct competition with him, Jeongguk thought wryly. But when one was actually up close and racing, Taehyung’s astounding level of talent was impossible to ignore.

Turning his thoughts back to the race ahead, Jeongguk’s excitement surged as the red lights flicked on, one by one.

A moment’s pause, and the lights were off.  

Seokjin’s reaction time at the start had been somewhat sluggish, not giving him a real chance of taking the lead. He was forced to watch as Kim Taehyung thundered off into the distance. By the second lap Taehyung had already stretched the gap out to over a second. With his teammate right behind him, Seokjin couldn’t afford to lose concentration for an instant. Ouch, he thought. That hasn’t gone the way I wanted it to. Ever the professional, however, he settled in for the long haul. One never knew what might happen over the course of fifty-six laps.

Some days behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car were a nightmare incarnate. But others, Taehyung reflected, were the sweetest of dreams. As he peeled into the pit lane for his stop, Taehyung took a moment to feel satisfied with the race he’d managed to put together thus far. He’d eked out his lead to seven seconds over Kim Seokjin, and knowing this track the way he did, Taehyung couldn’t envisage anything eroding that. After a near-ideal stop, he cruised back on to the track, idly wondering how long it would take the other frontrunners to pit. As he got back on the throttle after a tight corner, Taehyung felt a small stutter in the car underneath him. So small, in fact, that he wondered if he was imagining it. The car travelled smoothly through the rest of the lap. But as he came out of the hairpin on his next circulation, the stutter returned.

“Hyungsikkie, I’m losing power as I come off the brakes,” he informed his engineer.

“OK, Tae, we’re looking into it,” Hyungsik assured him.

When he reached the curlicue that was turns one, two and three, Taehyung’s heart sank. The car simply wasn’t responding to his deft touches and he was losing massive amounts of time. As if on cue, Kim Seokjin appeared in his rear view mirror.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taehyung spat, desperately pumping the throttle. “Loss of power, loss of power,” he repeated in panic,  letting out a roar of frustration when his engine cut out entirely. The only thing he could do was to steer his car gently off the track and try to get it as near to a service road as possible. Maybe he’d even be able to avoid a safety car…

“You’re safe to get out of the car as normal, Tae, nothing is live,” Hyungsik’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“Thanks,” Taehyung replied dully. With a heavy sigh, he removed his steering wheel and pushed himself out of the car, waiting impatiently for the marshalls to arrive with a scooter to take him back to the garage. He could practically feel the weight of the camera’s gaze as they zoomed in on him, waiting for a reaction. In a show of petulance, he kept his helmet on until the cameras found something else to focus on.

Taehyung wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

Seokjin whooped aloud as he eased his car past a stricken Kim Taehyung, taking care to observe the double waved yellow flags. The last thing he needed was a penalty to jeopardise this stroke of luck.

“That’s P1, Jin, P1. Nine and a half seconds to your teammate in P2,” Yoongi informed him.

“Remind me, how many laps left to go?”

“Oh, only forty,” Yoongi quipped. “Head down. You can do it.”

“Kim Taehyung is out, I repeat, Kim Taehyung is out of the race,” Yeonjun brightly informed Jeongguk. “So that leaves you in P2, Gukkie.”

Not usually one to rejoice in a fellow driver’s misfortune, Jeongguk still found his stomach giving a little thrill at that piece of information. If he could just manage to keep it together for the duration of the race, he’d be standing on his first Formula 1 podium.

“How far are we behind Seokjin?” Jeongguk asked, the thrill of the chase flaring in his bloodstream.

“Ten seconds. I think making up such a gap might be a little too much to ask,” Yeonjun said apologetically. “Minghao is five seconds behind you, though, so not much to worry about there.”

While Jeongguk managed to cut the gap down to three seconds, he was never really able to show Seokjin a front wheel. Nevertheless, as he crossed the line of the first Grand Prix he’d finished, Jeongguk whooped and hollered, almost deafening those listening in on the radio.

“Well done, boys,” Namjoon declared heartily. “That’s a one-two for the team. I’m proud of you.”

For the briefest of moments, Jeongguk spared a thought for Taehyung. That immediately dissipated when he parked his car in the number two slot and jumped into the waiting arms of his team. Even Kim Seokjin’s obviously fake smile and forced congratulations couldn’t wipe the smile off Jeongguk’s face.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was fuming. And he hated himself for it. He shouldn’t care so much where Jeon had finished, as long as it was behind him. And yet, anger roiled in his gut as he realised he’d have to share both a podium and a team photo with Jeon. He’d even have to play nice for the cameras, if he didn’t want his reputation to suffer any more than it already had. The eyes of the world were watching him even more closely than usual. And it burned. Undoing the top of his race suit by a few inches, Seokjin desperately hoped it would help him breathe.

It didn’t.

Seokjin couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jeon Jeongguk as the younger driver celebrated his first Formula 1 top-three. Jeongguk had immediately video called his mother, her sweet face, so like Jeongguk’s own, creasing with pride and love for her precious son. Seokjin, in a moment of weakness, checked his own phone. To his surprise, he’d received a message from his father. With the tiniest flutter of hope unfurling in his chest, he clicked on it.

Father (16.37):

You were lucky, today. Don’t let it go to your head.

Hatred bloomed in the pit of Seokjin’s stomach as he continued to observe Jeongguk celebrating with his loving mother. Taking a steadying breath, Seokjin managed to subdue the embers of his fury just enough to be camera-ready. Much later, watching the replay on the television in his hotel suite, he would find the space to be proud of the character he had so successfully played during the podium celebration and the post-race interviews. His congratulations to his teammate were convincing, his smile appearing genuine. It was only when Jeongguk was receiving his second-place trophy, third-placed Minghao kindly clapping him on the back, that Seokjin noticed a flash of true disgust on his own face. Hopefully, only he had noticed. A bitter taste lodged in Seokjin’s throat as he turned off the television and the lights and surrendered to a fitful night’s rest.

*****

Pushing open the door to his small but perfectly formed apartment, Jimin did a little dance of joy at being back in his own space after two weeks away. The next race wasn’t for almost a fortnight, so Jimin could spend a whole nine days at home before having to leave for Japan. He still had some commitments, most of them to do with training Taehyung. And yet, nine days of mostly bliss stretched out ahead of him. Cooking for himself, sleeping in his own bed. Watching his own television. Annoying his own neighbours. But first, he was going to unpack. There were few things Jimin found more soul-destroying than living out of a suitcase.

Submerged in the jacuzzi bath he’d installed after his first significant pay rise, Jimin hummed happily as he pressed the button to start the bubbles. He supposed he had Kim Taehyung to thank for this. Given that said pay rise had come after his driver’s first Grand Prix victory, and the fact that Taehyung had even shared part of his win bonus with Jimin, insisting he take a cut and ‘buy himself something nice’. Well, this bathtub had since brought Jimin many hours of uncomplicated joy, which was more than he could say for Taehyung.

Ugh, why am I thinking about Kim Taehyung while I’m in the bath? Jimin chided himself. Laying back, he attempted to clear his mind of everything except his breath and the relaxing whoosh of bubbles against his skin. ‘Attempted’ being the operative word. No matter how relaxed Jimin tried to be, Taehyung kept finding a way to invade his consciousness. Initially, Jimin couldn’t rid himself of the image of silky, dark hair that curled a little too long around his neck and ears and yet somehow gave the impression that it was exactly as it was meant to be. Then, a pair of large, soulful eyes, hinting at far greater depths than Taehyung allowed himself to reveal. His flippant, facetious persona had always struck Jimin as the perfect façade to hide a tender heart and a sharp mind. For the longest time, Jimin had lived with the assumption that he’d been wrong, and that Taehyung was every bit as shallow as he seemed. It was only in the last few months that Jimin had begun to wonder whether he’d been on the right track all along. There was a new spark in Taehyung, one that wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

Just as he was digging deeper into his thoughts, his phone buzzed. With a frustrated sigh, Jimin reached for it.

Kim Taehyung (21.47):

We still on for training tomorrow?

Jimin snorted. Come hell or high water, there was no way he’d let Taehyung get away with missing a training session.

Park Jimin (21.48):

Trying to get out of it already? Think again.

 The season has begun, no free passes.

Kim Taehyung (21.48):

Ha! That wasn’t what I meant, but I see you still had to land that punch.

Jimin scrunched his nose. What, then, had Taehyung meant? Before he could ask, three dots appeared on the screen.

Kim Taehyung (21.49):

I really just wanted to know if you got home safely.

As you’re sassing me, I’m going to assume that you did.

I’ll see you tomorrow, Jimin.

Oh.

All of a sudden, the bathwater was far too warm and Jimin had to drag himself out of it immediately. Safely seated on the edge of the tub, he sucked in several deep breaths and waited for his heart rate to stabilise.

Was it time, yet, to admit that he had well and truly lost the plot?

Jimin decided he’d stave off the inevitable for just a little longer.

*****

A tall, elegantly dressed man wearing a black face mask sidled into the café, his eyes lighting up when he spotted the person he was there to meet. Though he’d taken pains to conceal his identity, his loping gait was too iconic to fool the man waiting for him.

Hoseok raised his hand in the air and waved as Seokjin drew closer to his table.

“Hey, Hoba,” Seokjin greeted him. “Not that this isn’t nice, and all, but what exactly is this in aid of? We never meet up for coffee.”

Hoseok smirked. “That’s our Kim Seokjin. Always analysing everything,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. “Aren’t you going to get a drink?”

Rolling his eyes fondly, Seokjin wandered back over to the counter. Hoseok was amused to notice the way the barista’s ears turned red the moment she realised who she was making an iced americano for. Indeed, The King was a household name in Korea – in most of the world, really. When he’d first made the leap to Formula 1, his speed and tactical brilliance had caught the attention of racing fans. It was his spectacular good looks, however, that had wormed their way into the hearts of the nation. Every mother wished for her daughter to marry someone like Kim Seokjin – wealthy, charming, wildly successful and astonishingly handsome.

Shame he’s far more interested in their sons, Hoseok thought to himself. Seokjin wasn’t publicly out, preferring to keep his romantic life under wraps. Unlike some of his fellow drivers. This secrecy lent Seokjin a kind of mystery that only added to his allure.

Hoseok was forced to drag himself out of his spiral of thought when Seokjin returned, perching neatly in the padded chair across from Hoseok. Just as he sat down, a young woman approached and asked if she could take the remaining chair over to her own table. Seokjin was about to tell her yes when Hoseok blurted out “No, we need that, I’m sorry.”

Seokjin arched a perfect eyebrow. “Now, Hoba, that was just rude. You could have let that nice young lady have the chair, we’re not using it after all-“

“Hello, Hoseok. Hello, Seokjin,” Jeongguk said brightly, sitting down in the empty chair. “Please forgive me for my lateness.”

Checking his watch, Hoseok laughed fondly. “You’re not late. It’s just that Seokjin and I have the unfortunate habit of being early for everything.”

“I was brought up to believe that if you’re not ten minutes early, you’re late,” Seokjin added pointedly. Shooting a hard look at Jeongguk, Seokjin added, “Hoba, what is he doing here?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Jeongguk muttered under his breath.

“As a matter of fact, I would. I am forced to see quite enough of you when we’re at work and as we are not at work today, naturally I am wondering why I have to suffer your presence.”

“Oh my God, do you ever just… shut up? Like is that a thing, or-

“Are you two quite finished?” Hoseok cut in, raising his voice ever so slightly. “If you can both stay quiet for long enough to allow me to speak, I’ll explain.”

Two pairs of eyes swivelled to land on him. Hoseok wondered whether the collar of his shirt was a little tight as he was finding it difficult to breathe easily.

“Namjoon has asked me to speak to you both,” he began, noting Seokjin’s surprise. “Jeongguk, you’ll be aware that Matthew has handed in his resignation, leaving you without a performance coach after Jeddah.”

Jeongguk sat forward in his chair, bright eyes sparking with interest.

“Namjoon has come up with a rather unusual solution to this issue,” he explained. “Rather than look for a new performance coach for Jeongguk and spend as long as it takes to train them up to the required standard, he suggested that someone rather more experienced take Matthew’s place.”

Seokjin regarded Hoseok warily. “You’re not going to tell me-“

“So I will be training both of you when Matthew leaves our team after the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix.”

“What? You can’t-“ Seokjin blurted out, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

Jeongguk simply grinned, his large eyes sparkling with mirth. “Hoseok-ssi, this is wonderful news. You’re well known as one of the very best at what you do and it will be an honour for me to train with you.”

“I won’t share training space with him,” Seokjin cut in icily. “I won’t do it, and you can’t make me. If – and I cannot stress this enough, if – this is to happen, I will be having my training sessions separately from Jeongguk.”

Failing to stifle a snort, Jeongguk retorted, “You scared, old man? Scared I’ll show you up?”

Seokjin rounded on him, eyes sparking with electricity. “How dare you accuse me of being scared? Of what? Of you? Kim Seokjin is not afraid of anything or anyone. He has absolutely no reason to be.”

“Does talking about yourself in the third person make you feel big and clever, then?” Jeongguk parried.

“Enough!” Hoseok said lowly, stunning the bickering teammates into silence. “Look, this wasn’t my idea. I’ll do my very best to accommodate both of you. But I would suggest that if you have a problem with this situation, take it up with Namjoon.” Standing, he looked from Jeongguk to Seokjin and back again. “I suggest you finish your coffees and discuss how you’re going to work this into your schedules. I look forward to hearing from you both when you’ve done so.”

Heart pounding, Hoseok turned and strode out of the café. He only hoped he hadn’t added fuel to the already smouldering fire.

*****

Namjoon checked his phone for the fifth time in the same two-minute interval, cursing vehemently when there were still no new notifications. Grudgingly, he picked up the phone to call Hoseok.

“Joon?”

“Hoba. How’d it go?”

Namjoon practically felt Hoseok’s sigh.

“Not great, Joon. Not great. But it’s done,” he added, steely determination evident in his voice.

A surge of arousal rushed through Namjoon as he imagined Hoseok putting that determination to use in other ways. “Can I see you?” he blurted out, barely disguising the need in his voice.

Hoseok hesitated. “Tonight?” he asked incredulously.

It was rare for them to spend time together outside of Grand Prix weekends. But Namjoon found himself craving the other man in a way that no substitute would be able to satisfy. “Yeah, tonight. You can come to mine, if you like?”

Panic flared in Hoseok’s chest. “Your house?” he whispered. “Surely it would be better to meet somewhere more… neutral?”

Namjoon’s heart plummeted upon hearing those words. Hoseok reminded him of water, sometimes. Essential for his survival, yet impossible to pin down. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll book the usual suite at the Mondrian. See you there in two hours.”

“OK, Joon, see you then,” Hoseok replied faintly, realising Namjoon had already hung up. Was he that certain of Hoseok’s answer that he couldn’t even wait for him to utter it?

*****

Suzuka International Racing Course, Suzuka, Japan

In all of Jeongguk’s twenty-seven years on the planet, he had had never before experienced such ridiculous behaviour as that of a certain Kim Seokjin. Since their meeting with Hoseok, Seokjin had point-blank refused to communicate. Jeongguk had thought Seokjin was behaving dismissively before. But that was nothing on his current demeanour. Whenever they were required to be in the same room, Seokjin simply looked right through him as though he didn’t exist. Nor did Seokjin acknowledge anything Jeongguk said in team meetings, even when it directly concerned him. While to Jeongguk, this was hilarious, to the higher-ups in the team it was wildly concerning.

“Yoongi, a word please?” Namjoon murmured as Yoongi walked by the door of his office. “Please come in, and shut the door,” he added.

Yoongi gave him a quizzical look. Nonetheless, he did as he was asked.

Never one for beating about the bush, Namjoon immediately launched into talking about his problem. “Yoongi, I need your help. Seokjin refuses to talk to, listen to, or even acknowledge Jeongguk in any way. Which is less than ideal when it comes to the smooth running of our team,” he explained, his intense dragon eyes attempting to bore right into Yoongi’s soul.

Yoongi blinked. Regarding him coolly, he replied, “I’m not sure what the question is, Joon.”

Namjoon sank his head into his hands, sighing with barely-concealed exasperation. “Neither am I, Yoongi. I just know I need your help to untangle this situation,” he admitted. “You know Seokjin better than any of us. Perhaps you can talk to him, feel things out a little?”

Ha, Yoongi thought, You, on the other hand, know Seokjin in certain ways the rest of us never will. He wouldn’t be bringing that up, however. Yoongi valued his job far too much for that. “Look, I can try. But you know what a stubborn bastard Kim Seokjin is. And this whole sharing a performance coach thing has hit him right where it hurts, Joon. Did you even think about Seokjin’s feelings before you decided on that course of action?”

Namjoon blanched. “Well, I-“

“Joon,” Yoongi cut him off. “Just because you and Seokjin are the type of people who don’t ‘do’ feelings, that doesn’t mean you don’t have any. And Seokjin’s are pretty badly hurt by what he feels is a major betrayal of his trust in you. Sure, he’s misdirecting most of his anger toward Jeongguk. Probably because it hurts less that way. But I think that what he really craves is feeling needed.” Yoongi said quietly. “Jeongguk has come in on a blaze of glory and Seokjin is realising that this is someone he can’t easily dominate, unlike his previous teammates. And Seokjin, even though he’ll never tell you, is worried about his position in the team. Even The King can still feel surplus to requirements. Especially if he’s made to feel that way by the actions of others.” Yoongi let out a heavy breath, pausing to look seriously at Namjoon. “I can’t fix that for you, Joon. You’ll have to do that yourself.”

“Oh,” Namjoon uttered, his face softening as Yoongi’s words took effect. “I didn’t realise he’d feel this way.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Yoongi snorted. “When have you ever paid attention to anyone’s feelings? Even your own?” Rising to his feet, Yoongi shook his head, muttered inaudibly to himself, and left.

A heaviness settled in Namjoon’s stomach that he was completely unfamiliar with. Is this what it’s like to feel? he wondered. No wonder I’ve avoided it for so long.

It would take some effort to sweep this particular sensation under the rug.

*****

Jimin’s nose scrunched as he pondered the unusual feeling that fizzed and crackled in his chest and gut. Had he eaten something that disagreed with him? Was he coming down with some sort of bug? Whatever it was, it was certainly annoying. Not only did he have that weird fizzing sensation, but he was also somewhat lightheaded and giggly. Well, he supposed, constant travel does wreak havoc on the immune system. I’ll take a double dose of my vitamins today and try to stave it off.

The most unsettling part was that being around Taehyung seemed to exacerbate his symptoms. During their training sessions, Jimin’s heart rate had been unusually high, according to his sports watch. Perhaps it was starting to fail? In any case, he could afford a replacement. I’ll add it to my to-do list, he told himself firmly. But that didn’t really explain how warm he’d felt, or why his cheeks appeared redder than normal. According to his thermometer, he didn’t have a fever. Perhaps that was on the blink too? Ugh, when one thing goes, everything goes, Jimin thought to himself. He didn’t have any time to dwell on it right now, however, as all Stallions team personnel were required for their usual meeting. Naturally, Jimin was early. Even if his watch was playing up, he prided himself on his excellent timekeeping skills.

Arriving at the team motorhome, Jimin was surprised to find it in darkness. Sure, he was ten minutes early, but normally there were at least a few people milling about. Swiping his team ID card, he pushed open the door and a shiver immediately travelled down his spine. Was that breathing he could hear? Not easy breathing, either. Was somebody in trouble? Shifting into crisis mode, Jimin silently tiptoed over to the light switch and after a moment’s hesitation, in which he prepared for the possibility that he might need to defend himself, he flicked them on.

The sight that greeted Jimin had him wishing he’d arrived late for once in his life.

Long, caramel-coloured hair spilled over the edge of the enormous meeting table, a pair of toned, stocking-clad legs wound tightly around the lithe waist of none other than Kim Taehyung. The noises Jimin had heard, now that the light was on, had clearly been those of fervent kissing. Thank God they still have their clothes on, was Jimin’s knee-jerk response. In other situations he’d walked in on, that wasn’t always a given. The pair appeared oblivious to the fact that anyone else was in the room with them, even failing to notice the bright, fluorescent lights that had shuddered into life above their heads.

Jimin, on the other hand, had failed to notice the blow that had been dealt to his oblivious heart. Though he did recognise that his giddiness had subsided. He hadn’t expected it to be replaced with incandescent rage, however.

“Taehyung, what the fuck?!” he blurted out, hands on hips as he stared the two of them down. “You have a hotel room to do this kind of shit, and I’d imagine it’s a very nice one, too. Look, if you really can’t wait, you have your own driver room which has A LOCK ON THE DOOR. What is it about you and defiling other humans where anyone can walk in on you? Do you have an exhibitionist kink or something?  It’s sick, is what it is,” Jimin finished, his cheeks red and lips wet with flecks of his own saliva. He was about to turn and walk right back out of the motorhome when rich, dusky laughter stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh hey, Jimin,” Taehyung uttered, so casually that Jimin would have punched the wall if he wasn’t painfully aware he’d have to pay for any damages he inflicted.

Unhurriedly, Taehyung extricated himself from the woman’s octopus-like embrace, helping her up so that she was seated on the table. Despite himself, Jimin gave her a once-over. She was tall, slender yet buxom, and possessed of a face that screamed ‘glamour model’. With lips almost as full as Jimin’s, eyelashes far too long to be real and a preternaturally smooth forehead that couldn’t possibly be what nature had given her, Jimin had to admit that the woman was a rather pleasing package. If one didn’t look too closely.

“Oh! Jimin!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up in a manner that was surprisingly endearing. “Mi chiamo Domizia, ma tutti mi chiamano Domi.” Rising to her feet, Domi extended a hand to shake Jimin’s.

Mutely, he took it.

“TaeTae, lui è stupendo, è piccolo ma bello… le sue labbra sono divine!” Domi murmured to a vaguely confused-looking Taehyung. Kissing him on both cheeks, Domi added, “A più tardi, amore mio,” and tottered off on her skyscraper heels, leaving Taehyung and Jimin eyeing each other warily.

The silence stretched until Jimin was about ready to snap.

“So. Domi, hmm? She seems… nice.”

“She’s extremely nice, as a matter of fact,” Taehyung smirked. “We met during my last trip to the factory,” he explained.

“I see,” Jimin said archly. “Does she speak any Korean?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“English?”

Taehyung grinned and shook his head even harder.

“Ah, I see. So I’m assuming your Italian proficiency has increased past ‘grazie, ragazzi?’”

Laughing dryly, Taehyung shook his head again. “Nope. But we don’t really talk, if you know what I mean…”

Clamping his hands over his ears, Jimin shouted, “La la laaaaaaa, I can’t hear you!” effectively cutting Taehyung off. With a sigh and an eye roll, he declared, “Whatever, Tae. It’s your life, go ahead and live it the way you want. Just don’t be late for your training sessions.” With that, Jimin turned on his heel and strode off, pointedly ignoring Taehyung’s protests. Until he reached the door of the motorhome and was unable to continue because the rest of the team were all flooding in. It was only then that he allowed himself to register what Taehyung had said.

“Jimin, our team meeting is in two minutes. Where on earth are you off to?” Grabbing Jimin by the elbow, Taehyung steered him to the seat he normally occupied at such times. The seat that happened to be right next to Taehyung’s.

Jimin noted that his lightheadedness had completely disappeared, replaced by a sour taste, the residue of which clung thickly to his tongue.

*****

Kim Seokjin was determined to put right the abominations of his season so far. For The King to be entering the third round without a truly deserved win was indeed a travesty. Here at Suzuka, a track which he particularly loved, he would silence all the gossiping tongues that rose against his name.

He was off to a good start by qualifying on pole position, with Kim Taehyung joining him on the front row and the second row being occupied by Jeon Jeongguk and Vernon Chwe. The Stallions were always strong at Suzuka – indeed, Kim Taehyung was proving to be strong everywhere, Seokjin grudgingly admitted. It was raining, however, and Seokjin knew that he handled wet conditions like nobody else. While it did make for a slightly uncomfortable race, at least Seokjin could count on the fact that he’d be the one going into it with an advantage.

And he’d been right. On Sunday afternoon, when he parked his car in the winner’s spot post-race, Seokjin reflected that it had been a decent day at the office. Pole position, relatively easy race victory. Unfortunately, that scoundrel Kim Taehyung had just pipped him to the fastest lap, but Seokjin was now ahead of him in the championship, so what did that matter? Even the fact that he’d have to share another podium with Jeon Jeongguk didn’t dampen his spirits. I’ve still got it, he reminded himself as he climbed on top of the car and jumped off in a gesture of jubilation.

Jeongguk was outwardly delighted with his second podium of the season. Internally, however, his frustration was beginning to mount. Two third-place finishes was all well and good, but it wasn’t getting him in front of Kim Seokjin. Or Kim Taehyung, for that matter. Sure, it was astonishing for a rookie to be sitting third in the championship. But for Jeongguk, that wasn’t enough. He wanted to win. He would need to figure out a way to make that happen.

Nonchalant as ever, Taehyung strolled past the legions of reporters on his way out of the circuit, Domi on his arm, even pausing to pose for photos. “Who’s the lady?” countless voices called, receiving no more than an infuriating smirk from Taehyung. He knew the more resourceful amongst them would find out soon enough. Domi’s full name, hometown, occupation and even her closest friends and family would soon be exposed by the press – and all because she’d entered into a relationship with a very public figure. Kim Taehyung was not dubbed the ‘media darling’ for nothing. It wasn’t just his dashing good looks and skill, but rather, the train-wreck charm of his personal life that kept the reporters gagging for more. Part of him felt a little sorry for Domi, in truth. But mostly, he knew that she had entered into this arrangement with her eyes wide open. Domizia Lombardi was a lot sharper than most people expected. Which made her ideal for this role.

*****

There was to be no real rest for the teams and drivers after Suzuka, with Bahrain following hot on its heels. Given that the air travel between the two places took the best part of a day, nobody bothered to go home in between. Because of this, Jimin found himself rather short-tempered. Why did he have to be here when he could be at home? It wasn’t as though Taehyung really needed him – especially not now, when Taehyung was showing up at the gym every day without being nagged and launching into his exercises before Jimin could even offer him a word of instruction. And when Taehyung wasn’t in the gym, he was out parading himself around with Domi. So there’s really no need for me to be here at all,  Jimin reflected bitterly. Yet, still, his phone would light up with a text from Taehyung every night at bedtime, wishing him a good night’s sleep and telling Jimin he’d see him tomorrow. Since the previous weekend, Jimin hadn’t bothered to reply. He and Taehyung had probably been getting a little too friendly anyway. Best to keep up the professional boundaries, Jimin told himself.

Sakhir International Circuit, Bahrain

It was, however, too much for Jimin to expect for his sullen attitude to remain unnoticed. Wandering listlessly around the paddock base with Sabrina Carpenter’s ‘Taste’ playing through his noise-cancelling headphones, Jimin didn’t notice Hoseok calling him until his friend stepped right in front of him and waved his hand right in his face.

“What’cha listening to, Jiminie?” Hoseok sing-songed, pulling Jimin’s headphones off and placing them over his own ears. After a few seconds, he made a face, returning the headphones.

Abruptly, Jimin realised that the song had started again. Which wasn’t a surprise, given he’d been playing it on loop for the past hour. He hadn’t really wanted Hoseok to know that, though.

“Is there something you want to tell hyung about, Jiminie?” Hoseok asked gently, his kind eyes filling with concern. “That sounds a little like sad-girl-who-doesn’t-wanna-admit-she’s-sad music to me,” he added. “Either that, or just plain psycho,” he quipped. “Don’t forget, I’m always here for you if you need a sympathetic ear.”

Jimin straightened up to his full five-feet-eight-inches in height. “I’m fine, hyung,” he told Hoseok, hoping that he was convincing enough.

“If you say so, Jiminie,” Hoseok replied, mock-saluting him.

“Anyway, hyung, how are you? How’s the driver situation?” Jimin asked, his eyes bright with curiosity.

Hoseok slumped a little. “Swings and roundabouts, my friend. At the moment, Seokjin is the swing and Jeongguk the roundabout. Jeongguk is behaving in a perfectly sensible manner, but Seokjin is acting like the spoiled child he was probably never allowed to be.”

“Oh.” Jimin’s stomach lurched in sympathy. His own issues with Taehyung paled in comparison to what Hoseok was dealing with. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“It’s not!” Hoseok exclaimed. “But I did have one small breakthrough, the other day.”

“Oh?”

“Seokjin phoned me refusing to train at any time except the mornings. I was a little worried about how Jeongguk would react, but it turns out that he prefers the afternoons.”

Jimin couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Well, at least that’s something.”

“Something, indeed,” Hoseok agreed wryly. “Look, Jiminie, I gotta go. But the offer to talk is always on the table, OK?”

Jimin gave his friend a quick hug and bade him farewell.

It wasn’t until Hoseok had walked away that Jimin felt the ache of allowing himself to remain unseen, yet again.

*****

There was something in the Bahrain air that agreed with Jeongguk. And no, it wasn’t sand. Rather, it was the sense of possibility, the vast array of opportunity that seemed to hang in the atmosphere just waiting to be plucked. Here was where he’d made his debut as a full-time Formula 1 driver at the pre-season test. Where he’d laid down a marker that had struck fear into the hearts of more established drivers.

Here, at Sakhir International Circuit, was where Jeongguk intended to collect on the promises he’d made.

Outwardly cool and composed, he easily topped the first two practice sessions. Free Practice 3 was a different story, however, with Kim Taehyung taking the top spot and Kim Seokjin just pipping Jeongguk for second. Still, Jeongguk remained calm and unworried. He’d used that particular session to do a race pace practice run, and the fact that he’d still managed to put in the third fastest lap was extremely promising.

So assured was Jeongguk that he didn’t even take time to celebrate his maiden pole position, or to feel satisfied that he’d beaten both Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung. He simply posed for photos, gave the press a few choice sound bites and returned to his accommodation to eat and sleep. Not a flicker of a dream marred Jeongguk’s sleep that night. A solid nine hours later, he awoke to the sound of his alarm, stretched, bathed, ate breakfast, watched a movie, and headed to the circuit.

Night races thrilled Jeongguk. He truly believed that the novelty of racing under floodlights would never get old, for him. Some of the more experienced drivers may disagree, but to the rookie, it was intensely exciting. In the lower formulae they had raced in the afternoon under the intense desert sun. The coolness of the evening was such a welcome change. Jeongguk mused that it was simply what Formula 1 drivers deserved when racing at the top level. And, by extension, so did he.

Striding into the Silver Bullets’ motorhome, he greeted everyone he walked by with a cheery smile.

Until his eyes landed on Kim Seokjin.

Jeongguk had been so focused on his race weekend that he’d almost forgotten about the existence of his teammate. Or rather, my personalised pain in the ass, he thought to himself, barely holding back a giggle. Seokjin’s eyes flicked up, holding Jeongguk’s gaze for a full second before the older driver looked away. I’ve got him running scared, Jeongguk congratulated himself. A moment of  unexpected sadness crept into his smug aura. Once upon a time, Kim Seokjin had been his role model. And now he was more akin to a stubborn piece of chewing gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe. That old saying about never meeting your heroes has turned out to be all too true, Jeongguk thought ruefully. With a sigh, he shook himself out and continued with his pre-race routine.

An hour before the race was due to start, Matthew knocked on the door of Jeongguk’s driver room. “Only two more to go for us together. Ready for warm-up?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Jeongguk’s stomach twisted as he realised that his time with Matthew was drawing to an end, and soon. Meeting his performance coach’s gaze, he quipped, “Let’s get it,” making Matthew laugh and breaking the tension somewhat.

Twenty minutes later, Jeongguk was the most settled he could ever remember being before a race. A stray thought crept in, alerting him to the possibility that things could go wrong. Jeongguk decided not to entertain such thoughts. He preferred to focus on what could go right, rather than the opposite. When the time finally came to get into his car, Jeongguk’s focus was honed to a fine point. Though he’d never led a formation lap, it came easily to him, reinforcing his belief that he was born to do this job.

Five red lights went on.

Five red lights went off.

Jeongguk cursed aloud as Kim Taehyung pulled alongside him after a rapid getaway. He wasn’t going to make a foolish mistake this time. If Taehyung had the line in the corner, Jeongguk wouldn’t fight it too hard. He could make up the place later. As they approached the first corner, Jeongguk knew that all he could do was place his car in the appropriate defensive position and hope for the best. Holding his breath, he turned the steering wheel and sent up a prayer to whatever deities were listening.

“Nice defence, Gukkie!” Yeonjun’s voice shook him out of his trance. It was only then that Jeongguk realised he was still in the lead of the race. Breathing out heavily, he knew it was time to knuckle down and start putting in some fast laps. When he crossed the line at the start of lap 2, Jeongguk allowed himself a small flare of excitement. He’d just led his first ever Grand Prix lap! Hopefully there will be many, many more, a voice in his mind piped up.

Indeed, Jeongguk continued to lead until lap 14, when Yeonjun called him in to pit. It hurt to see his name tumble down the running order, even though he knew he was still in the net lead of the race. The stop was a smooth 2.1 seconds, the Silver Bullets living up to their reputation as the slickest pit crew going. Jeongguk couldn’t help but feel like he’d contributed in some way, having recommended his friends Taehyun and Beomgyu after working with them in the lower formulae. Perhaps he’d buy them a beer, later. But for now, he had a race to finish.

It occurred to Seokjin that he was spending rather too much of his time seething and not enough of it actually winning. That scourge, Kim Taehyung, had rocketed away to the point that Seokjin had pointedly asked his team whether Taehyung had jumped the start. Only to be told that no, Kim’s start was completely legal. It was just that good. So instead of second place, Seokjin found himself in third. The worst part was that Jeon was leading. And with a bright red, deceptively wide Stallion-shaped obstacle in the way, Seokjin was unable to do anything about it. Desperate, he radioed Yoongi asking to be brought into the pits.

“We do not think that’s the preferred course of action, Jin,” Yoongi replied apologetically.

“Oh for fu-“ Seokjin cut himself off. It wouldn’t do to be witnessed blowing his top at the team. This was being broadcast worldwide, after all.

As a result, after the first pit stops were completed, the top three drivers remained in the same order. Seokjin redoubled his efforts to tail Kim Taehyung, but the Stallions driver was slightly too clever.

Taehyung, however, was whooping with delight as he held Kim Seokjin up for yet another lap. He knew that the Silver Bullets driver was probably faster than him, ultimately, but there wasn’t much in it. And being the obnoxious pain in the butt that he was, Taehyung relished every moment that he could keep The King behind him on track. He only needed to be careful not to do anything that would incur a penalty. Previous experience had taught him that his bold personality tended to attract more scrutiny from the stewards.

“You’re doing great, Tae,” Hyungsik reassured him. “Keep up this pace and we’re nailed on for second place.”

Never satisfied unless he was on the top step, Taehyung asked, “How far ahead is Jeon?”

“Eight seconds,” Hyungsik informed him. “Look, have a go if you want. But Jeon’s pace is outstanding around here.”

“I know, I remember him at the test,” Taehyung murmured. “But do you remember who was in second place, less than half a tenth off Jeon’s fastest time?”

Hyungsik laughed. “Just keep your head down, Tae.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, but nonetheless complied.

“OK, Gukkie. Box, box,” Yeonjun instructed on lap 35. “Kim Taehyung has already been in for his second stop, and Seokjin will box on the next lap.”

Jeongguk chuckled quietly. He wondered how Seokjin felt being the second one to pit, knowing that in most cases, it was the leading driver who got to come in first. Still, he wasn’t going to let it go to his head. There were still twenty-two laps to go and he needed full concentration for each and every one. After a sticky pit stop in which his left rear wheel took a little longer than usual to go on, Jeongguk could have been rattled. Instead, he chose to believe in the feeling he’d had since he’d arrived in Bahrain. This was his day, the race was his to lose. And Jeongguk had absolutely no intention of losing it.

With his lead over Kim Taehyung cut down to five seconds, Jeongguk decided to use his fresher tyres to pull out a bigger gap. When he was nine seconds ahead, Yeonjun radioed in a caution. “Guk, you’ve done enough. Holding the gap will keep you there. Only ten left now.”

But Jeongguk wasn’t having any of that. His tyres still felt solid underneath him, and he had a growing sense of his own invincibility. Pointedly ignoring Yeonjun’s advice, he pumped in fastest lap after fastest lap and by the time he crossed the finish line, his lead was a full fifteen seconds.

“JEON JEONGGUK! YOU ARE A FORMULA 1 GRAND PRIX WINNER!” Namjoon’s voice boomed into his car. “Remember this moment. Savour it. Because even if you win a hundred more times in your career, nothing will ever top the feeling of your first.”

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Jeongguk shouted, his voice cracking with the sheer emotion of what he was experiencing. He, Jeon Jeongguk, had just won his fourth ever race as a Formula 1 driver. “I can’t wait to call my mother,” he confessed, tears creeping into his voice.

Namjoon couldn’t hold back a sly smile. Could this kid be any more marketable? he thought proudly to himself. “I’m sure she will be very proud of you,” he responded warmly.

“Good race, Tae. That’s P2,” Hyungsik confirmed as Taehyung began to slow down. Deep inside himself, he knew that he’d done all he could on that particular day. As much as it pained Taehyung to admit it, Jeon had been just too strong around Sakhir for anyone else to get a look in. At least I dethroned His Majesty, Taehyung thought rudely. Seeing Kim Seokjin get beaten remained a source of great personal pleasure to him. Even more so when Taehyung himself was one of the drivers finishing ahead.

The moment Taehyung got out of the car, Domi rushed to the front of the barriers and reached for him. He launched himself into her arms as she rained kisses all over his helmet, taking both his hands in hers and covering them in kisses too.

Jimin wondered whether he was going to throw up. It was really just that he didn’t like such public displays of affection. Such things were private for a reason, no? To his surprise, when Taehyung removed his helmet, his eyes locked directly with Jimin’s. “Good job,” Jimin mumbled, swiftly looking away. He couldn’t help but wonder whether Taehyung was aware of the intensity of his gaze. It could really make a person uncomfortable.

“Thanks, Jimin,” Taehyung’s warm voice caressed his ears. “I don’t say this enough, but I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

Alarm bells clanged in Jimin’s mind as he felt his face heating up. Surely it was just the high ambient temperature. Yes, that was all it was. Nothing at all to be concerned about.

Seokjin took a few moments longer to get out of his car. The reason was simple – he was afraid that if he faced his team before he was ready, that he would explode. Being jealous was not something he was used to. He’d never felt the need for it, until now. Having successfully calmed down, Seokjin pushed himself out of the cockpit and flung himself into the waiting embrace of his team.

“Silver Bullets 1-3! A great day for the team!” Yoongi bellowed, clapping Seokjin firmly on the back.

A warm body materialised next to him. Turning his head, Seokjin realised it was Jeongguk.

“Congratulations,” Jeongguk said limply. “I’ll see you on the podium.”

Indeed you will, Seokjin thought. And you’ll see me on the top step again very soon. Just as he was about to walk to the cool-down room in preparation for the podium celebration, Seokjin felt a tap on his shoulder. Kim Taehyung stood behind him, a slightly sheepish grin on his face.

“Yo, Your Majesty, “ Taehyung drawled. “I get that it sucks, your rookie teammate beating you and all, but we’re still gonna lift him on our shoulders, right? It’s his first win and he deserves that courtesy.”

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Seokjin realised that Taehyung was right. Truthfully, he couldn’t refuse unless he wanted his reputation to take a real beating.

Arching a perfect eyebrow, Seokjin regarded Taehyung icily. “Of course we’ll do what is always done,” he declared, words clipped and precise.

When he arrived in the cool-down room, Seokjin was annoyed to find that Jeongguk was on a video call with his mother. Again, the older woman’s face simply shone with happiness for her son, the big eyes she’d clearly passed on filled with multitudes of joy.

“You’ll have to call her back later. We need to go to the podium now,” Seokjin snapped, drawing an incredulous look from Kim Taehyung in the process.

“No need to be such a bitch about it,” Taehyung muttered under his breath. Seokjin pointedly ignored him. Such immaturity wasn’t worth a moment of his time.

After the trophies had been presented, Taehyung caught Seokjin’s eye and nodded. In unison, they lifted Jeongguk on to their shoulders to whoops and hollers from the crowd.

“Jeon Jeongguk! Jeon Jeongguk!” the spectators chanted.

Seokjin wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

After the post-race interviews, the Silver Bullets team gathered for their traditional team photo. Seokjin only hoped his face didn’t betray the misery in his heart. While the rest of the team, including Hoseok, Namjoon, and of course, Jeongguk, threw themselves into a heartfelt celebration, Seokjin quietly sipped on a glass of champagne in the background. When it was half empty, he decided enough was enough.

Nobody even noticed The King slipping away.

Chapter Text

Jeongguk’s jubilation rode higher than ever as he celebrated his maiden victory with his team, with the people who were becoming almost as close to him as family. For the first time, he felt he was being treated like a mature racing driver – not the awkward fledgling who’d somehow stumbled his way into a top team without any previous experience in Formula 1. Who had maybe needed his hand held just a little bit, at first. The fact remained that Jeongguk’s situation was incredibly rare. It was well known that Kim Taehyung, as blazing as his talent may have been, had spent two tricky years learning the ropes at Hayes before Seojoon had taken the calculated risk of promoting him to the Stallions team. Now, Kai Huening was in Taehyung’s old seat, putting in solid performances and waiting for his own opportunity to shine. Even the great Kim Seokjin had served his time at Wilkins when they’d been a backmarker team, incapable of pulling off anything like Minghao’s recent Sprint win. The King, then barely even a prince, had fought week in and week out for the final places in the top ten. It was only when Silver Bullets decided they needed some fresh blood that Kim Namjoon, the brand new Team Principal, decided to give Seokjin a chance to prove his worth. As, indeed, he had done.

Speaking of whom, it had not gone unnoticed to Jeongguk that Seokjin was nowhere to be found. Initially his teammate’s disappearance had raised an amused smile, but when he realised that Seokjin wasn’t coming back, it felt rather less funny. Sure, Jeongguk was all for a bit of healthy intra-team competition, but he wondered whether this was starting to get a little too personal. It’s probably too late to do anything about it now, he thought, accepting yet another glass of champagne from Namjoon’s outstretched hand. And yet, the motorsport-loving child who still lived inside Jeon Jeongguk couldn’t help but crave his erstwhile hero’s approval.

Far better, Jeongguk told himself, just to go with it. Surely Seokjin couldn’t keep up this level of pettiness forever? Something would have to give.

*****

At least the flight is only two and a half hours this time, Jimin mused after he checked in at the airport. Various Formula 1 personnel milled around the departures area, many of them waving at others and having short conversations before inevitably splitting off into their own little groups. Jimin, however, preferred to be alone. His mind kept flitting unconsciously toward Taehyung, much to his annoyance. He knew that Taehyung would be travelling by charter jet with the two MacPherson drivers today. And probably Domi, too, since they appeared to be attached at the hip (or lips) these days. Catching himself out, Jimin realised his mouth had formed itself into something of a snarl.

Was he jealous?

Cringing painfully, Jimin dismissed that idea. Perhaps a little jealous of their circumstances, that was all. Jimin longed to be able to travel by private plane – frankly, even Business Class would be a significant improvement. Unfortunately the team’s budget and his salary, though generous, didn’t quite run to that.

A buzz in his pocket alerted him to a message notification.

Kim Taehyung (12.03):

Have you checked in yet?

Jimin frowned. Why did Taehyung care to know that piece of information? Still, he fired off a quick reply.

Park Jimin (12.04):

Yeah, why?

“If there is a passenger named Park Jimin in the departures area, please speak to a member of airline staff immediately,” an amplified voice rang out.

Jimin rolled his eyes. What on earth was the problem now? At least he had a few days up his sleeve to get to Jeddah, if it became necessary. Heck, he could even rent a car and drive there if he had to. Dragging his feet, he wandered over to the nearest help desk.

“Hi, I’m Park Jimin,” he introduced himself to the sharply-dressed man behind the counter.

“Oh, Mr. Park!” the man greeted him enthusiastically. “If you can just surrender your current boarding pass I’ll get you a new one printed right away.”

Taken aback, Jimin questioned, “But what’s wrong with the one I have?”

The man gave him a quizzical look. “Nothing, but that one is for a seat in Economy class. You have been upgraded to First. So if I can just have your boarding pass-“

“Here you go,” Jimin rushed out, handing over the slip of cardboard before the man changed his mind. If this was some kind of mistake, he wanted to make the most of it.

“And here you go,” the man responded, handing him a replacement. “Seat 3B. I trust you’ll find it comfortable. Also, our first and business class lounge is right over there,” he informed Jimin, pointing somewhere behind him. “Boarding announcements are made in there so you can relax and we’ll get you on your plane in plenty of time.”

“Thank you,” Jimin breathed, still somewhat in shock. “I’ll be sure to enjoy it.”  With his face carefully blank, Jimin took his new boarding pass and checked in to the lounge.

Wow, this is swanky, he thought as he looked around. He still had two hours before his flight, so at least he could enjoy this experience a little. The moment he sat down, a waiter appeared out of nowhere and asked for his drink order. Since everything was complimentary, Jimin decided that some champagne would be just the thing.

Sipping his glass of bubbles daintily, Jimin was picking at the plate of pastries he’d assembled when his phone buzzed again.

Kim Taehyung (12.34):

Well, tell me! What seat did they give you?

Jimin’s head whipped around in surprise. He knew that Taehyung couldn’t possibly be here... But how else could he know?

Park Jimin (12.35):

3B. But how did you know they gave me a new seat?

Kim Taehyung (12.35):

Oh, Jimin.

Did you really think it happened because of your pretty face?

I got you an upgrade.

Thought you deserved something a bit nicer as you’ve been working so hard.

Cheeks burning more fiercely than the Bahrain desert sun, Jimin read and re-read Taehyung’s last message. He called me pretty, an excitable voice repeated over and over in his mind. Ugh, why was he getting so carried away with that? Taehyung was likely being sarcastic, anyway. The upgrade was a lovely gesture from a driver to his performance coach to say thank you, that was all. Which reminded Jimin that he really ought to thank Taehyung.

Park Jimin (12.36):

Thank you.

After a few minutes, there was still no reply. Taehyung would surely be too busy with Domi to think about Jimin for a little while, at least. Jimin’s jaw set in a hard line as the realisation dawned on him that Taehyung was probably planning to do God knows what with Domi once they checked into their hotel in Jeddah.

He’d be certain not to walk in, this time.

Funny, the majority of his glass of champagne had tasted sweet and delicious. But the last mouthful had developed a sour, cloying flavour. Perhaps a second glass would flush away the unpleasantness.

It wouldn’t hurt to try.

*****

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

Hoseok gazed down at his phone, waiting for it to do something. He’d texted Yoongi, suggesting they meet up at his hotel and order room service, watch a movie, and… Whatever else Yoongi might be in the mood for. It didn’t usually take Yoongi quite this long to respond, though. If he allowed himself to think too hard, it struck Hoseok that he might be in this deeper than Yoongi was. Which terrified him no end. Commitment wasn’t something he was generally interested in, given his career and the travelling it entailed. And yet, something about Min Yoongi made him want to give up his promiscuous lifestyle and settle down. Although every time he allowed his mind to go there, a barrage of red flags flashed up and he ended up staving off a panic attack.

When the message finally came through, Hoseok was so immersed in thought that he almost dropped the phone in surprise.

Min Yoongi (16.48):

Sorry, Hoba. Not feeling up to it tonight.

Think I’ll be better off with my own company.

Maybe tomorrow?

Damn. Talk about a punch in the gut. Feeling sore of heart, Hoseok wandered listlessly to his loan car and punched in the name of his hotel on the satnav. As he was about to turn on the engine, his phone rang.

“Joon?” he answered. “I’m just about to head back to my hotel.”

“Come to the Hotel Casablanca instead,” Namjoon murmured. “I’m staying in one of the Executive Suites, I think you’ll love it. Let’s get dinner and see where the evening takes us. What do you say?”

He’s actually waiting for a response, this time, Hoseok mused. Interesting. Indeed, what would it hurt? Yoongi had turned him down, after all. Namjoon was a more than decent substitute.

“Sure thing, Joon. I’ll head there now,” Hoseok replied. He hung up the phone and smoothly changed the address in his satnav.

*****

Reclined on his bed naked, sweaty despite the near-arctic temperature of his room’s air conditioning, Taehyung smiled indulgently at his phone. Domi, sprawled beside him with a thin sheet barely covering her breasts, laughed lightly and shook her head. “Che cosa?” she muttered under her breath, yawning and closing her eyes.

Hyungsik hyung (12.15):

You should have seen his face!

Ever-stealthy Hyungsik had managed to snap a secretive photo of Jimin standing at the airline’s help desk, his jaw dropping open as he was handed his new boarding pass.

Kim Taehyung (17.47):

Thanks for capturing it, hyung.

Do you think what I did was too much?

Hyungsik hyung (17.49):

If it were anyone else, maybe.

But you, Kim Taehyung?

Nah. You have a reputation to live up to.

Satisfied, Taehyung allowed his phone to drop to the side and stretched his arms luxuriantly above his head. Hyungsik was turning out to be pretty cool, nothing like the stick-in-the-mud he’d initially expected. As Taehyung let out an epic yawn, an urgent reminder popped into his mind.

Shit. I never replied to Jimin.

Slightly nervously, he brought up their text conversation.

Park Jimin (12.36):

Thank you.

Kim Taehyung (17.52):

You’re welcome. I hope you enjoyed it.

🌹

“What the fuck was that, Kim Taehyung?!” he growled under his breath as the offending emoji raced through the ether. Why on earth had he sent a rose, of all things? Then, he realised. For a brief moment, he’d remembered that Jimin’s lips reminded him of a rosebud. Obviously he’d acted out of temporary madness.

It was far too late to take it back, now. He’d just have to brazen it out.

Or pretend it never happened. Yes, that was by far the better option.

*****

Stretched out on his enormous hotel bed, Seokjin toyed idly with the phone in his hands. Well, perhaps to an outsider it would appear idle. But in truth, Seokjin was trying to prevent himself doing something he’d almost certainly regret. Pent-up and filled with inexpressible rage, Seokjin needed a way to let off steam.

Namjoon had always been a brilliant outlet.

While they’d mutually agreed to cease their arrangement some time ago, Seokjin was debating with himself whether or not to reopen it. Fuck it. What’s the worst that can happen? he asked himself, dialling Namjoon’s number.

“Hello? Seokjin-ah?” Namjoon answered somewhat curtly.

“Joonie,” Seokjin cooed, using the tone that had reduced Namjoon to putty in his hands in the past.

Namjoon cleared his throat. “Um, can you just give me a moment?” There was a muffling sound, some distorted voices, and then Namjoon was back on the line, sounding distinctly businesslike. “OK, Seokjin, what is it?”

Feeling slightly put out, Seokjin’s pout was clearly audible in his voice. “Joonie, I’m lonely and frustrated and I’m in need of some company.”

Silence.

“Oh,” Namjoon uttered, slightly softer. “Uh… Jin-ah, didn’t we agree to end that side of our relationship a while ago?”

“Yeah, but-“

“Look, it was a bad idea in the first place. A team principal should not be sleeping with one of his drivers. It’s a massive conflict of interest,” Namjoon whispered.

The blatant pity in his tone landed in Seokjin’s stomach like a massive chunk of ice. Namjoon was turning him down? Nobody turned Kim Seokjin down…

“Forget I ever asked,” Seokjin blurted out. “Goodbye, Namjoon. I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” he said icily, with emphasis on the word ‘work’. After the call clicked off, Seokjin let out a blood-curdling yell and threw his phone as hard as he could, wincing as it bounced off the carpet. “What’s the worst that can happen?” he asked himself in a cruelly mocking tone. “Finding out that you’re no longer desirable in any sense of the word,” he muttered, jumping up to pace around the room. “Joonie’s found a new driver to throw his weight behind, and it seems like he’s found someone new to fuck, too,” he spat. The idea that the person could possibly be one and the same occurred to him, landing like a hefty right hook. He hadn’t seen anything that suggested that Namjoon was fucking Jeongguk, but if he was honest, he had to admit that his teammate was objectively hot. And it all added up, really. Why, indeed, would Namjoon want the older, washed up version when he could have the younger, hotter one?

Seokjin knew he had been an irredeemable fool, mixing business and pleasure. Striding over to the full-length mirror, he glared at himself. “Look at you. Just a dried-up husk of what you once were. Disgusting. No wonder nobody wants you,” he spat.

As his anger began to dissipate, a silent tear began to track down the flawless skin of Seokjin’s cheek. Watching it descend, his father’s voice resounded in his mind.

Crush him.

He had every intention of doing just that.

*****

Arriving at Jeddah Corniche Circuit as a race winner was certainly a different experience, Jeongguk reflected. The flashbulbs that were normally reserved for superstars such as Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung were blinding him instead, reporters falling over themselves in their attempts to capture a perfect headline.

“Do you think you still have a chance to win the championship this year?” an English reporter’s voice rose above the hubbub.

Jeongguk’s eyes sharpened. “I’m here, aren’t I? Technically all twenty drivers still have a chance,” he responded cheekily. Ducking his head, he declined to respond to any further questions and made his way into the paddock base.

He was still lying third in the championship, that much hadn’t changed. However, with his recent win, the gap had closed and he was only a solitary point behind Kim Taehyung in second place, and a mere four points behind Kim Seokjin.

Not bad for a rookie, Jeongguk smiled to himself. He planned to continue making the old man suffer here in Saudi. It had proven not to be that difficult, after all.

*****

Taehyung pulled off his helmet before running into the arms of his team after the race on Sunday night. Domi, naturally, was the first in line to embrace him. She emitted a surprised squawk as Taehyung pulled her into a deep kiss right in front of the cameras. Raucous whoops emanated from the gathered team personnel as Taehyung flashily dipped Domi, leaving her unsteady on her feet. “Calmati, TaeTae,” she murmured, ruffling his sweaty hair affectionately once she’d regained her balance.

“Another podium, Taehyungie! That’s great work,” Seojoon’s booming voice reached him over the noise of the crowd.

“Meh. Only third,” Taehyung quipped, shrugging in a rakishly charming manner. “I can do better. I will do better.”

Jeon had beaten him again. Unfortunately, His Majesty had beaten both of them to an untroubled first place. It pained Taehyung to admit it, but Seokjin had been untouchable from the moment the lights had gone out. Jeon had fought valiantly for the lead, but ultimately, Taehyung’s pace hadn’t been good enough to do more than watch them from a distance.

Rather like the way he’d caught Park Jimin watching him from a distance on more than one occasion. Blinking hard, he forced himself to banish that thought.

The air in the cool-down room practically throbbed with tension. Jeongguk had wandered in looking miserable, thrown a cursory “Congrats” at Seokjin and then proceeded to ignore him. Taehyung, ever the instigator, raised a quizzical eyebrow at Jeongguk. “Hey, Jeon, that’s no way to treat your teammate,” he teased, the corners of his lips quirking up mischievously.

“I’d leave it if I were you, Kim,” Seokjin cut in. “Children cannot be held responsible for their actions.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that the Alzheimer’s symptoms kicking in?” Jeongguk retorted. “Better get out there for the podium celebration before you forget where you are and need to call for help.”

Taehyung was quietly impressed. This Jeon kid was good, and not just in the car. Biting down on his inappropriate laughter, Taehyung followed the Silver Bullets drivers up to the rostrum.

*****

Back in Seoul for the first time in several weeks, Yoongi looked balefully at his phone.

Hoseok still hadn’t called. In fact, he hadn’t called or texted once since Yoongi had turned him down in Jeddah. Was it his fault? Did Hoseok not want him anymore because he’d stood up for his own needs on that day? In his heart of hearts, Yoongi knew that his worth wasn’t defined by whether or not he was in the mood for company.

And still.

He had often lain awake on nights he was alone, wondering if Hoseok was alone too, or if someone else was by his side when Yoongi wasn’t. When they’d entered into their arrangement it had been strictly casual. Yet Yoongi found himself craving Hoseok’s sunny smile, his husky laugh and the fathomless moans he couldn’t seem to help letting out when he was lodged deep inside him.

Perhaps it was time for Yoongi to admit to himself that Hoseok wasn’t just a fuck buddy to him. Even thinking those words had Yoongi cringing and wanting to disappear into the carpet of his living room. Because, undoubtedly, a fuck buddy was all he was to Hoseok. Never again would Yoongi put his heart on the line for someone who wouldn’t do the same for him.

Jung Hoseok made it incredibly difficult, though.

*****

Lugging his trusty suitcase behind him as he struggled to keep his eyes open, Jimin strode into Incheon airport and sleepily wandered over to the bag drop. Scanning his passport, he felt a surge of irritation when the machine informed him that he would have to seek assistance at the airline counter. He’d checked in digitally so many times without problems, and on the one day he really didn’t want to deal with other humans, he was being forced to.

“How can I help you, sir?” an elegant, wide-awake-looking woman asked him. Fuck you and your cheerfulness, it’s 5.30am, Jimin wanted to say.

Wordlessly, he handed over his passport and e-ticket.

The woman scanned them and her computer chimed. “Ah, Mr. Park. I have to manually check-in your bag and issue your boarding pass. Just a moment,” she told him cheerily.

Jimin stifled a yawn as she handed over his boarding pass, watching his bag roll away on the conveyor belt. “Thank you,” he drawled, placing the card in his satchel and wandering off in search of coffee.

It was only when it was time for Jimin to board the plane that he glanced at his boarding pass and did a double-take.

The card read:

PARK, JIMIN MR.

SEAT 2A

CLASS: FIRST

Immediately, he pulled out his phone and fired off a text message.

Park Jimin (06.52):

Did you seriously do it again?

Jimin shook his head. Why was he texting Taehyung before 7 in the morning? He’d still be fast asleep, knowing him.

But wait – Jimin’s phone was buzzing.

Kim Taehyung (06.53):

I figured it was only fair to let you experience luxury on a longer flight 🤷

Enjoy, and I’ll see you in Miami.

When Jimin approached the desk to have his boarding pass scanned, the attendant regarded him quizzically. “Are you OK, sir? You look a little flushed, that’s all.”

Jimin assured her that he was absolutely fine, smiled shakily, and boarded the plane.

*****

Miami International Autodrome, Miami, United States of America

As the Florida sun scorched its way through his hat and clothing, Seokjin was relieved to be able to hide behind his sunglasses. Naturally, the crowds were excited to see The King – as they were everywhere. However, this particular crowd were far more thrilled to see the American competitors, Stallions driver Vernon Chwe and Matadors driver Joshua Hong. Comically oversized masks bearing their faces were everywhere in the throngs of people lining the way into the circuit. For once in his life, Kim Seokjin revelled in a little bit of anonymity.

He'd managed to put his embarrassment behind him at Jeddah, taking a peerless victory that had almost made him forget the way he’d humiliated himself on the phone to Namjoon. The team principal, as expected, was every inch the professional. Not a word, nor even a glance, betrayed his feelings on the matter. Though Namjoon’s lack of obvious emotion had driven him mad on more than one occasion, Seokjin was enormously grateful for it now.

His teammate, though, had the annoying habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve. Unfortunately that only seemed to make the public adore him. Seokjin viewed it with barely-disguised contempt. Racing wasn’t emotional. Racing was clinical. Driving with heart didn’t make the car go faster, and that was all there was to it.

*****

“That’s P2, Guk. Front row. Nice work.”

Jeongguk cursed. “Who’s on Sprint pole?” he demanded to know.

“Vernon Chwe,” Yeonjun explained. “You know he loves this place.”

Letting out a low whistle, Jeongguk had to admit that he was surprised.

“And Josh Hong is third, Seokjin fourth, Kim Taehyung fifth, followed by Felix Lee and Chris Bang,” Yeonjun informed him.

Interesting. Mixed-up grids often made for exciting races, Jeongguk knew. As did sprints, where pit stops weren’t a factor and everyone simply went hell for leather in the frantic scramble to the finish line. While he was frustrated to miss out on pole, second place really wasn’t too terrible.

Bring on tomorrow.

*****

Taehyung wasn’t used to starting on the third row and truthfully, he didn’t much like it. Perhaps it was the arrogance of a driver who had full belief in his skill, but he didn’t feel as though it was fitting for Kim Taehyung, in a Stallion, to be in fifth position on the grid.

Especially when his teammate was on pole. Now you know how Vernon feels most of the time, he thought darkly. But that was fair, wasn’t it? Because Vernon simply wasn’t as good as Taehyung. He had his days, but the difference in quality was blatant. Everyone who knew anything about Formula 1 was well aware of that. As Taehyung removed a tear-off from his visor in preparation for the start, he reflected that it was lucky that Vernon was such a nice guy. Because Taehyung couldn’t – and wouldn’t – hate him. None of the bullshit that was going on between the Silver Bullets drivers would happen at Stallions. Not during Kim Taehyung’s employment, anyway.

Perhaps he was slightly distracted when the lights went off. Perhaps it was simply bad luck. But instead of flying around the first corner, Taehyung found himself skittering off the track after a hard whack from Felix Lee on the inside. As he scrambled at the steering wheel, desperately trying to avoid either damaging his own car or others, he watched helplessly as most of the field soared past him.

When at last Taehyung was able to safely rejoin, Hyungsik informed him that he was down in P16. “Stewards are looking into it, Tae. We think you’re in the clear, but Felix probably is too. Racing incident, we expect. Get your head down, it’s not over yet.”

Grumbling under his breath, Taehyung zoomed past Jake Sim in his Picador, who had left the corner rather glaringly undefended. Ah well, he’s a rookie, he’ll learn, Taehyung chuckled to himself as he disappeared off into the distance. Over the next few laps, he managed to get in front of Kai Huening in the Hayes, Lee Jinki in the Bauer and – with rather more difficulty – Kim Mingyu in his surprisingly fast Arlington.

Now lying in twelfth place with ten laps to go, Taehyung still needed to make up four more positions to earn a singular point. His problem was that the gaps had already widened so much that it would be difficult for him to do so. Hyungsik kept him informed on the size of the gaps, as well as Vernon’s untroubled lead. Even though Taehyung didn’t really want to know about that. The more important information, to his mind, was the positions of Jeon and His Majesty.

After nineteen incredibly soul-destroying laps, Taehyung managed to cross the line in tenth. No points for him, today. Thankfully, there was still Grand Prix qualifying and the main race to follow. Of course he did the classy thing and walked straight over to Vernon to congratulate him on his victory. After he’d done his duty, Taehyung trudged off to the motorhome and locked himself inside his driver room. Domi knocked on the door, but Taehyung sent her away. He told himself he wanted to be alone. And yet, a tiny voice in his mind kept urging him to text Jimin. His performance coach was the only one who could help him get his head right for the next session. At least, that was what the rational part of his mind told him, whatever his other reasons may have been. Sighing in defeat, he pulled out his phone.

Kim Taehyung (13.04):

Are you free now?

Park Jimin (13.06):

…of course I am, Taehyung.

As your performance coach, I am literally here to work for you.

Oh. Taehyung blushed as he realised how stupid that question must have sounded. Even though he was trying to be polite. His phone buzzed again.

Park Jimin (13.07):

What do you need?

Unbidden, an image of rosebud lips seared itself into his mind. Once again, his mind filled with images of sinking his teeth into those lips, of tasting Jimin’s moans as he devoured him.

“No!” Taehyung yelped in horror. Perhaps, instead of seeing Jimin, he would be better off having some alone time with Domi…

But Taehyung knew that wasn’t really what he needed. Cringing as he typed, he sent Jimin another message.

Kim Taehyung (13.08):

If it’s not too much trouble, could you come to my driver room?

I think I need another one of your magic meditations.

Taehyung threw his phone down on the sofa, dropping his head into his hands as he waited for a response. Instead of the expected buzz of his phone, there was a knock on the door.

“Taehyung?” Jimin’s silky voice called.

“Just a moment,” Taehyung blurted out. Sitting up abruptly, he raced over to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. Ah, that was better. Now he could face Jimin. The turbulence under his skin subdued for the moment, Taehyung opened the door.

“Hi,” he breathed.

“Hi,” Jimin responded, giving him a strange look. “Uh, can I come in?”

Taehyung realised he had only opened the door a crack and was standing right in the doorway. “Oh. Um. Please do,” he mumbled, stepping aside to let Jimin into the room.

Has this driver room always been so small? Taehyung pondered as Jimin tentatively set foot in his space.

“Shall we sit on the sofa?” Jimin asked.

Taehyung realised that Jimin looked nervous. Oh no, he thought, that’s the last thing I want. He should feel comfortable around me!

“Yeah,” Taehyung confirmed, smiling warmly. “I’ll let you sit down first, though, so you can take up all the space you want.”

Jimin let out a snort-laugh. “Thank you, Taehyung. That’s very kind.” Pointedly, he sat down in the centre of a cushion and allowed his knees to fall open. “I trust there will still be enough room for you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow cheekily.

What the fuck? Why am I blushing? Taehyung thought in a panic. In a wild reversal of roles, Taehyung perched rather daintily at the far corner of the suddenly-too-small sofa.

“OK, that’s great. Now if you can close or lower your eyes and begin to focus on the breath…” Jimin’s voice trailed off into a calming stream of sound.

Peeking a little, as he always did, Taehyung’s heart squeezed as he took in the delicate contours of Jimin’s face and the serenity that suffused his entire being. A revelation tapped on the window of Taehyung’s consciousness, although it was still a little too subtle for him to heed.

*****

After the Sprint, Seokjin couldn’t get away fast enough. It was the first time he’d actually finished a race and not been on the podium this season, and frankly, he was disgusted with himself. Not only had his teammate finished two whole places ahead of him, he’d been beaten by the inferior Stallion driver and a Matador! A Matador, for goodness’ sake! Him, Kim Seokjin! He might as well relinquish his crown already. In fact, he should probably throw it on the ground and stomp all over it for good measure.

For the first time in twenty years, Seokjin realised was about to break into sobs. A single tear was one thing, but to sob? The moment his driver room door closed behind Seokjin, the moisture began to flow down his cheeks. Raw, gasping breaths shook his slender frame, his broad shoulders heaving as he desperately tried to regain control over his emotions. It was no use, however, Seokjin was a slave to his feelings. There would be no moving on until he’d expressed them. Grabbing a cushion off his couch, Seokjin muffled his painful sobs until he was certain they’d run themselves out. Glassy-eyed and pale as a ghost, he curled into the foetal position and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. His last conscious thought was that he really should set an alarm…

A loud knocking sounded on the door. “Jin? JIN! Are you in there?” Groggily, Seokjin opened one eye and attempted to make sense of his surroundings.

“Yoongi?”

“Oh thank God, Jin! Let me in, please?”

Unfolding himself from the sofa, Seokjin ambled over to the door and unlocked it. Yoongi stood on the threshold, fear etched into his normally placid face. “We’ve been looking all over for you! Three different staff have knocked on this door and they all told us nobody was in here! I wouldn’t let them send out a search party until I’d tried,” he explained. Yoongi’s face suddenly turned sharp. “You’ll have to pull yourself together, Jin. It’s only twenty minutes until Grand Prix qualifying.”.

Shit, Seokjin thought. I didn’t mean to have quite such a long nap. “Sorry, Yoongi-yah, I was sleeping,” he admitted sheepishly. “I should have set an alarm. But you know how these things go.”

Yoongi, ever astute, looked at Seokjin doubtfully. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

Seokjin scoffed and rolled his eyes. “When have you ever known Kim Seokjin to not be OK?” Walking right past Yoongi, he strode into the main body of the motorhome. “Get me a triple espresso,” he ordered the first staff member he encountered. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Jeongguk was really not used to sharing a performance coach with anyone else. Ergo, he found it difficult to ask Hoseok for anything. It was only when Hoseok happened upon him looking lost, and directly asked if he needed any help, that Jeongguk was finally able to admit that he did.

“I’m struggling to get my head right,” he admitted. “Being beaten to the Sprint pole by Chwe really did a number on me."

Hoseok’s eyebrows furrowed. “And why is that, do you think?”

Jeongguk sighed. “Because… he’s just not that good, you know? I can stomach being beaten by The King, or Kim Taehyung… but not Chwe. It just feels wrong,” he sighed.

Studying him carefully, Hoseok hummed. “You know what, Jeongguk?” he began. “That’s where you’re going wrong. Not the fact that you think – or know – that you’re better than Chwe. But that you expect that to be the case every single time. You know that this sport is full of variables, right? Someone who will be nowhere near you at one track will suddenly be in front of you at another. The car, the track, the weather, the crowd. All those things have an effect, like it or not. And that’s what has happened here. Chwe has a home crowd advantage, and he’s a solid driver. But you – you are the only Jeon Jeongguk in Formula 1. And you can only account for yourself.”

The sick feeling in Jeongguk’s stomach disspated as Hoseok’s words began to sink in. For a few moments, he was silent.

“Does what I said make sense?” Hoseok asked.

“So much sense,” Jeongguk blurted out. “Thank you for your perspective. Now I feel ready to fight again.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hoseok crowed. “Now get out there and show them who Jeon Jeongguk really is.”

With practiced ease, Taehyung drove his car out of the garage for his first lap in Grand Prix qualifying. In the past, he’d found it difficult to shrug off misfortune. But today, for some reason, he felt as though he’d internalised it and was now ready to cast it off. He was fortunate that his car hadn’t been damaged by the rather hard thump from Felix – who had texted him to apologise, and Taehyung hadn’t made him sweat because it was racing, after all – and now he was more than ready for his second bite of the cherry. This time, he’d beat Vernon, and everyone else, too. Something in Taehyung just knew it.

Qualifying one and two passed without anything particularly notable. The top ten shootout consisted of himself, Jeon, His Majesty, Vernon, Josh Hong, Felix Lee, Chris Bang, Xu Minghao, the veteran Lee Jinki, and two surprises – Kim Mingyu, who was making that Arlington look better than it had any right to, and Kai Huening, making his first ever appearance in the third part of qualifying. Kai had been the Stallions reserve driver for a year and a half, and Taehyung had grown fond of the rather enormous young man. With his sweet personality and bags of talent, he was simply impossible not to love.

“Hyungsikkie?” Taehyung called over the radio as he warmed up the tyres, “Can you send a message via Hayes that I’m proud of our Kai? I want him to know that before he does his hot laps.”

“Sure thing, Tae. I’ll get right on it,” Hyungsik replied.

Pleasantries over, the mask of ambition once more took its place within Taehyung. For the next ten minutes, he thought of nothing but the track. In the moments he was sitting in the garage, he visualised what he would be doing down to the most minute detail. As a result, when he got out there, his laps were near-flawless.

Unfortunately, so were Jeon’s. Their fastest times were identical down to four decimal places. The official classification had Taehyung sitting on pole position simply by virtue of the fact that he had put the time in first. A technicality, but one he’d quite gladly benefit from. Taehyung’s celebration was rather more muted than his usual flamboyance. No shouting or whooping. Just a simple “Thanks, boys, good job.”

Catching Jeon’s eye in the media pen afterwards, Taehyung noticed that the younger man’s jaw was set with barely-concealed fury.

That will make for a fun race tomorrow, he thought.

*****

Sixth. He’d qualified sixth. Seokjin was, quite simply, disgusted with himself. Where had this abhorrent run of form come from, anyway?

Maybe if you hadn’t been such a pussy and cried yourself out then had a little sleep you’d have been more on the ball, a cruel voice inside Seokjin’s mind mocked him.

That cruel voice sounded rather a lot like his father.

Speaking of which, Seokjin’s phone buzzed.

Father (17.22):

I didn’t raise my son to be another man’s bitch.

You might as well just lie down and roll over.

With a roar, Seokjin threw his phone at the bathroom door so hard that the screen shattered.

He would make Jeon suffer for this. He simply had to.

*****

When Taehyung awoke on Sunday morning, the first thing he noticed was that Domi wasn’t beside him. The second, however, was far more disturbing.

It was raining.

In Miami.

“Domi?” he called petulantly. “I’m hungry.”

While Domi’s Korean was still pretty much non-existent, she’d learned a few phrases that Taehyung used most often. “I’m hungry” being one of them.

“Aspetta un minuto, Tae,” came the reply from the suite’s kitchen.

Taehyung did as he was told, pushing himself up to a seated position in bed. Soon enough, Domi returned, impeccably dressed and made up and carrying pastries, coffees and a delicious-looking breakfast bowl for Taehyung.

“You went and got this for me?” he asked, a smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s nothing, Tae,” Domi replied in halting English. Well, Taehyung supposed that if she was going to learn another language, English was probably of greater use to her than Korean. He was almost totally bilingual anyway.

Which is not the only ‘bi’ thing you are, a small voice in his mind reminded him. Another image of Jimin popped into his head unbidden. This time, it was his back view. Why, oh why, did Park Jimin have such a glorious ass? Was it necessary? Was it fair?

Domi interrupted Taehyung’s thoughts by perching daintily on his lap and attempting to feed him an apricot Danish. “Mangia, mangia!” she insisted. “You have a grande – big – race today.”

“That’s not the only grande thing I have,” Taehyung murmured, feverishly kissing Domi’s neck and laughing as she let out an indignant squawk.

*****

Jeongguk didn’t spend much time hating on the rules of Formula 1. Mostly because he knew that there was nothing to be gained from raging against them. But the one rule that really irked him was the one about dead heat qualifying times and the fact that precedence was given to the first driver who set them.

Damn Kim Taehyung for getting over the line to start his lap first. It had only been by three seconds, but that was enough.

Feeling his determination swell, Jeongguk resolved to give Taehyung a very hard time. Even though he was less experienced in the rain, he still knew what to do. Seokjin, down in sixth, wouldn’t trouble the lead today. It wasn’t clear to Jeongguk why he was so sure about that, given The King’s legendary prowess in damp conditions. But something in him sensed that Seokjin wouldn’t be able to mount a race-winning challenge.

But Jeongguk would. He was certain of it.

“Hoba,” Seokjin spoke quietly into his phone. “I need your help.”

Hoseok was taken aback. The King didn’t often use language like that. “What can I do for you, Jin?” he asked carefully.

“I can’t stop thinking horrible things about myself. Really horrible, harsh things that I’d slap someone else for saying to me.” Except my father, a quiet inner voice reminded him.

Letting out a breath, Hoseok murmured, “OK. What we’re going to do is give you some visualisations. Can you come to the track early and we’ll work in your driver room?”

“Sure. Give me an hour,” Seokjin declared, hanging up the phone.

Jimin was really very good at his job, Taehyung reflected. Not a single doubt had troubled him since he’d secured pole position, and he arrived at the rather damp Miami International Autodrome feeling calm and utterly in control. Days like this were rare and precious in the life of a Formula 1 driver. Well, Taehyung had to admit that they were significantly less rare since he’d actually started listening to Jimin. It was so easy to listen to Jimin, actually. He had such a pleasant voice…

“No,” Taehyung said out loud, wrenching his thoughts away from the image of Jimin’s rosebud lips forming deliciously naughty words. “No.”

By the time Taehyung was being strapped into his race car, he had just about rid his mind of that particular cursed image.

Just about.

Jeongguk tore off the line, getting the jump on Kim Taehyung and just edging ahead as they approached the first corner. Yet Taehyung found a burst of speed and drew his car back ahead, drawing hushed oohs and ahhs from the crowd as his wheels came very close to tangling with Jeongguk’s. Somehow, the two drivers made it safely through the corner and the battle continued to rage. Taehyung retained the upper hand, managing to put almost a second’s gap between himself and Jeongguk. Not quite enough, however, to get Jeongguk out of the drag reduction system activation margin. No, he’d need a full second for that, and he couldn’t quite grasp it. Taehyung knew that the moment it was enabled in lap three, he would have to defend his position constantly.

“Damn, Jeon is a pain in my ass today,” he grumbled over the radio to Hyungsik.

His engineer laughed indulgently. “That’s what he’s paid for,” he quipped. “Keep your head down, Tae, you’re doing a great job. Tyres are looking fine.” 

Taehyung did as he was told. Jeon continued buzzing around him like an annoying little fly, but Taehyung was convinced he had him covered.

“Oh for fucksake!” Jeongguk cursed as Taehyung placed his car in the perfect place to avoid being overtaken. Yet again. Jeongguk was beginning to wonder whether Kim Taehyung was even better at this than Kim Seokjin – knowing the rules so well that he knew precisely how far he could bend them without incurring a penalty.

“Keep your head cool, Gukkie,” Yeonjun’s voice soothed through his headset. You’re five seconds in front of Chwe, who is two seconds to the better of Hong. Your teammate is right up Hong’s ass, though. I don’t expect that to last long.”

A flash of anger raced through Jeongguk. How could Yeonjun tell him  to keep his head cool when he was praising Seokjin for being right up Hong’s ass? Why were there one set of rules for him and quite another for Kim Seokjin?

It didn't matter what he tried, nothing worked. Jeongguk had to admit that Kim Taehyung was simply too strong to overtake. He had pitted a couple of laps earlier, in an attempt to undercut him, but was left cursing and shaking his fist when Taehyung sailed by while Jungkook was still under the pit lane speed limit.

With five laps to go, Jeongguk’s patience had run out. Tired of waiting for the opportunity to present itself, he realised he’d need to force it if he was to have any chance of winning this race. Further incentive was the fact that Seokjin had managed to get himself up to fourth, deposing Xu Minghao and Joshua Hong. There was still a gap of four seconds between them, not to mention the bright red Stallion of Vernon Chwe, but Jeongguk didn’t want to leave anything to chance. He wanted to thrash Seokjin and leave no mystery about it.

With no fresh rainfall since the lights had gone out, the racing line was now mostly dry. Every driver had switched from the intermediate rain tyres to the medium slick tyres at their pit stop. Which wasn't going to cause any problems as long as they didn’t deviate from the dry line. A few drivers had careened off the track as a result of getting a little too confident. But Jeongguk, of course, knew what to do.

The counter ticked over to the final lap. It’s now or never, Jeongguk realised. Steeling himself, he kept the throttle in as he and Taehyung approached a corner, shifting the steering wheel to duck down the inside. Taehyung would simply have to yield.

Taehyung didn’t yield.

Exhibiting his near-superhuman car control, Taehyung drew his Stallion ahead of Jeongguk once more, forcing him off the dry line on to the damp tarmac. Ill-equipped to deal with the sudden lack of grip, Jeongguk felt his car going into a spin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! He pushed me off the track!” Jeongguk yelled just before his car thumped the barriers. Unhurt, at least physically, his heart sank as it dawned on him that his race was over. “Make sure the stewards look into that,” he said icily over the radio. “Kim should pay for that move.”

Yeonjun hummed, but didn’t say anything. “I’m just glad you’re OK,” he said.

The crowd burst into delighted cheering as Kim Taehyung crossed the line as winner of the Miami Grand Prix. Making it a Stallions 1-2 was Vernon Chwe, he and Kim Seokjin inheriting an extra place due to Jeongguk’s crash. Not only that, but The King was able to snatch the fastest lap. Just to rub salt into Jeongguk’s wound.

Seokjin wasn’t exactly thrilled with the way things had played out for him in Miami. But he would admit he was relieved to leave there with a podium. Naturally, he was also feeling some schadenfreude at Jeon’s misfortune. That’ll teach him to try and pull off risky moves, Seokjin thought smugly. His jubilation receded as it sank in that Kim Taehyung had still beaten him. Perhaps it was time to consider him a true contender.

Taehyung returned to parc ferme a hero, immediately being lifted up on the shoulders of his team. For once, his eyes didn’t instinctively land on Domi. Instead, they were inexorably drawn to an excitedly jumping Jimin. The blonde grinned at him and gave him two thumbs up.

“Thank you,” Taehyung mouthed before getting swept away by the crowd yet again.

Jimin’s crinkly eye smile lodged uncomfortably in his heart. That elusive realisation knocked again, a little harder this time.

*****

“I need a fucking drink,” Jeongguk growled as he stormed through the motorhome. He’d been sent to the medical centre for precautionary checks and been declared fit and ready to go. There were aches and bruises from the force of the impact, but nothing he couldn’t deal with. He was a racing driver, after all.

The stewards had investigated the collision between himself and Kim Taehyung. Ultimately they had ruled in the Stallion driver’s favour, deciding that he’d left Jeongguk enough racing room and the move was therefore legal. While Jeongguk couldn’t legitimately argue with that, he was furious at the lack of respect Kim Taehyung had shown him.

Grabbing his phone, he texted his old friends Kang Taehyun and Choi Beomgyu and invited them to hit the town with him later. Both replied in the affirmative. Satisfied, Jeongguk packed up his things and left the circuit, blatantly ignoring the reporters who were desperate for a piece of him.

Meanwhile, the Stallions team were celebrating a rare 1-2 finish. Seojoon had laid on the finest Italian prosecco, bottle after bottle being devoured in the paddock before Taehyung and Vernon suggested they take the party elsewhere. Domi, of course, tagged along, stunning in a slinky black sequinned number that revealed rather a lot of her shapely physique. Taehyung was extremely well acquainted with the nightlife in every city that Formula 1 visited, so at his insistence, they ended up at one of his favourite cocktail bars. Opening up a tab on his gold credit card, Taehyung urged all his friends to have whatever they wanted, knowing the bill would barely make a dent in his win bonus.

I should also do something extra for Jimin, he realised sharply. Speaking of Jimin, he’d invited him to come along, but he hadn’t arrived yet. Perhaps Taehyung should text him and make sure he knew where to go-

A light tap on his shoulder had him swivelling around. For a moment, Taehyung wondered if he was hallucinating. There, in front of him, was Jimin, looking remarkably like a fallen angel. Taehyung was used to seeing him in workout clothes or team wear. Occasionally, a smart shirt and jeans. But he had never seen Jimin looking quite like this. Smoky shadow elongated the feline contour of his eyes, a light dusting of highlighter making his cheekbones glow in the soft light of the bar. His lips were coated in an iridescent cherry-coloured gloss and his shirt, a semi-sheer red number, was unbuttoned enough to reveal a peek of his collarbones and the surprisingly prominent swell of his pecs. Jimin may have been relatively small, but the contours of his body were honed to perfection. Taehyung’s eyes instinctively flickered downwards and immediately he found himself regretting that. Defined abs peeked through the shimmery fabric where it was tucked tightly into a pair of black trousers that could have been sculpted precisely to the curves of Jimin’s thighs. Taehyung couldn't help imagining what they must be doing to that ass.

“Hi,” Jimin breathed, giving Taehyung an awkward little wave. “Sorry I took so long. I had to go back to the hotel and change.”

I’d wait an eternity for you when you look like that.

The words rushed into Taehyung’s mind and it took everything he had to stop them from spilling out of his mouth.

“Worth it,” he said instead, patting Jimin on the shoulder. “Get yourself a drink. Whatever you want, it’s on my tab,” he added gruffly.

Observing Jimin’s back view as he sauntered off to the bar, Taehyung reflected that his imagination hadn’t done the real thing any favours.

“Che è un folle,” Domi remarked from a safe distance away. “Ma se le caverà.”

Perhaps it was the sheer jubilation of a team 1-2, or perhaps it was the fact that Taehyung was paying. Whatever the case, the Stallions group certainly knew how to party. Vernon and Taehyung were, predictably, at the centre of it all. Vernon was up to his usual tricks with a never-ending string of beauties veritably buzzing around him like flies to honey. Taehyung, however, was in a spectacularly good mood and felt as though nothing could endanger that. Downing cocktail after cocktail, he laughed and danced with his team personnel, the affable side of his personality on full display.

Jimin found himself standing a little off to the side of the group, idly chatting with several of the pit crew. All eyes were drawn to Taehyung, the sparkling social butterfly. He looks the best when he’s happy, Jimin thought to himself, swiftly followed by the correction that Taehyung always looked good. The sinking feeling that settled in Jimin’s stomach was becoming all too familiar. Soon he’d be unable to avoid putting a name to it.

The sound of raised voices shocked Jimin out of his daydream.

“If you’d show other drivers some respect, this shit wouldn’t keep happening to you!” Jeon Jeongguk was shouting – wait, Jimin thought, when did he get here? Flanked by Taehyun and Beomgyu from the Silver Bullets pit crew, the younger driver already looked a little worse for wear.

“That’s rich coming from the rookie who ploughed into his teammate and ended both their races,” Taehyung retorted. “Don’t fucking talk to me about respect until you learn what it is.” Deliberately, Taehyung turned his back on Jeongguk.

The growl that emanated from Jeongguk was unexpected, to say the least. “Fuck you, Taehyung! You wouldn’t know respect if it bit you in the goddamn ass,” Jeongguk laid into him. “It’s no wonder you’ve never managed to string a championship together. You’re too stupid and selfish to control yourself for long enough.” 

Taehyung whirled back around, his eyes blazing with a fury that was frankly terrifying. “Look who’s talking! I bet you couldn’t wait to call your mommy and tattle on me,” he mocked. “Maybe you should get yourself weaned off mother’s milk if you want to be taken seriously as a racer.”

Jeongguk’s body language suddenly became still. Dangerously, he uttered, “Don’t you dare bring my mother into this, Kim.”

“Or what?” Taehyung provoked him.

Jeongguk let out a terrifying cry and launched himself at Taehyung. He managed to land a couple of punches to the chest while Taehyung was still reeling from shock. And then, Taehyung’s fist connected with Jeongguk’s jaw and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

The crowd of onlookers gasped, including Taehyung, who recoiled in horror. He hadn’t meant to actually hurt Jeon, just teach him a lesson…

“I’m OK,” Jeongguk reassured everyone, unsteadily rising to his feet. “He took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“Right, that’s it. You two need to get out of this establishment,” the manager declared, flanked by two bulky security guards. “Mr. Kim, I’ll need you to settle your tab first, and then you will be escorted out. Mr. Jeon, please leave immediately.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jeongguk said meekly, bowing to the manager before slinking away with Beomgyu and Taehyun following in his wake.

Though the other Stallions team members hadn’t been asked to vacate, with Taehyung’s credit card no longer at their disposal, they all decided to call it a night. With the singular exception of Vernon, who seemed quite comfortable in the arms of a petite redhead. A simmering rage burbled in Jimin’s stomach as he replayed the incident in his mind on his way back to the hotel. When would Taehyung learn not to rise to such things? Jeon at least had some sort of excuse, given his lack of experience in the sport. But Taehyung didn’t. He’d been around for long enough to understand that violence against other drivers was not the way forward. No matter how much they may have deserved it.

Jimin only hoped the FIA would be lenient on both of them, because they would undoubtedly be facing some kind of punishment.

Looks like all my effort went to waste. I only got to have one drink, Jimin lamented as he climbed into bed after washing off his makeup and brushing the product out of his hair. Unasked-for, Taehyung’s face flashed into his mind. Specifically the hungry look he’d sported when he’d laid eyes on Jimin at the bar. Was he remembering it correctly, or were his own spiralling feelings the cause of his delusion?

Taehyung has a girlfriend, Jimin reminded himself. Not that it would matter if he didn’t. Our relationship is strictly professional.

Scrunching his eyes closed, Jimin tried desperately to sleep. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, he let out a frustrated moan and reached for his phone. Having left it on silent, he hadn’t noticed the text message notifications that were waiting for him.

Kim Taehyung (22.43):

I’m sorry you had to witness that.

I’m also sorry I behaved that way, I should have known better.

Are you mad? Please say you don’t hate me…

Jimin’s heart thumped so hard he was worried it would burst right out of his chest. Frantically, he typed: I could never hate you. Re-reading before he pressed send, he cringed and deleted the incriminating words.

Park Jimin (00.13):

Don’t sweat it too much.

I just hope the FIA won’t bust your ass too badly.

I’ll see you back in Seoul, OK?

Three dots appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared again.

Kim Taehyung (00.15):

I wish you knew just how much I appreciate you, Jimin.

Gasping, Jimin dropped his phone on to the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the screen light up again. He reached out a tentative hand to check it.

Kim Taehyung (00.16):

See you at the gym on Tuesday.

Jimin’s cheeks burned and his head swam. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why a text from his driver made him so… giddy. He pressed a pillow over his mouth and let out a short scream.

*****

Seokjin’s schadenfreude had lasted precisely as long as it took for him to read the news of Jeongguk and Taehyung’s very public fight. Climbing on to the podium yesterday, even though only a third place, had felt deliciously sweet. Even more so when he saw a dejected Jeongguk slinking away with his head lowered. A part of him wondered whether he should feel bad for having such feelings, but that was easy enough to silence.

It was only much later, reading the news headlines as he lay in bed, that regret began to creep in. The articles were, of course, sensationalised. Neither driver came out of it looking good, but the journalists were especially cruel to Jeongguk. From what he was reading, it seemed that Jeongguk had started it and Taehyung had merely retaliated. Which, perhaps, he shouldn’t have done. But Seokjin could scarcely blame him…

Oddly, he felt a little sore of heart. Now a three-time world champion, Kim Seokjin was once a rookie too. He’d at least been at a team where he could make his mistakes a little less publicly. A tiny, unexpected voice spoke up in his mind, wondering if Jeongguk was OK.

But you hate him, a louder voice retorted. Why on earth would you care?

Why on earth, indeed.

*****

The noise simply wouldn’t stop, a shrill ringing, and ringing, and ringing. It took at least four missed calls before Jeongguk was able to drag himself out of the world of dreams and realise that it was his phone making that infernal racket.

“Wha?” he answered groggily.

“Jeongguk, it’s Bang Sihyuk here.”

Jeongguk scrambled into an upright position and cleared his throat. The CEO of Formula 1 was calling him?

“Mr. Bang! Please forgive my rudeness, I was asleep-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Bang Sihyuk cut him off kindly. “Look, I’m just calling to let you know that we’ve had a meeting about the incident concerning yourself and Kim Taehyung, and we’ve agreed on a suitable punishment.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk uttered.

“We decided that since nobody was hurt, and you, at least, have no previous form for such things, that the best course of action would be a fine. Oh – and we can’t really enforce this – but  it would be looked upon favourably if you both apologised, and at least made the appearance of burying the hatchet.”

Acid rose in Jeongguk’s throat. The idea of apologising to that jerk was not exactly pleasant. But sometimes, one had to do things one wasn’t entirely happy with in order to get ahead. Deep down, he knew that Kim Taehyung would draw the same conclusion.

“Of course, Mr. Bang. You’ll have no argument from me.”

Bang Sihyuk laughed dryly. “You’ll be pleased to know that Kim Taehyung said exactly the same thing,” he drawled. “You’ve both been fined seventy-two million won, or fifty thousand US dollars. We’ll accept either currency,” he joked. “Now, I trust this won’t happen again, Jeongguk?”

Feeling rather like a naughty child, Jeongguk meekly agreed that it would not.

“Very good. I will see you in Imola,” Bang Sihyuk ended the call.

*****

“So, what’s going on with Jeon and the misconduct thing?” Seokjin asked Hoseok as he placed the weight bar back in its cradle.

Hoseok gave him side-eye. “Jin, you know I don’t tattle,” he admonished. “But as far as I know, it’s all been resolved.”

Seokjin’s stomach lurched a little. As time had passed since the incident, he’d remembered what it felt like to be a young driver feeling like injustice had been done. Part of him wished he’d been brave enough to call the more experienced drivers on their bullshit the way Jeongguk had done with Kim Taehyung. One might even say he was a little bit impressed… Resolving not to dwell on it, he simply moved on to his next exercise.

Sneaking a glance at Hoseok, he observed that his performance coach was looking a little peaky. I hope he’s not coming down with something, Seokjin mused idly before dismissing the thought entirely.

*****

Yoongi’s eyes widened as Hoseok practically fell through the door of the hotel room in which they’d agreed to meet. “Hoba, you look worn out!” he gasped, reaching over to support him.

Screwing his eyes shut, Hoseok groaned. “Yoongi, you were right. I have made a rod for my own back by agreeing to train both drivers,” he admitted. “Jeongguk is still being reasonable, but Seokjin… the less said about him, the better. I’m working twelve hour days  trying to accommodate both of their needs,” he sighed. “But I can’t back out now.”

Yoongi guided him over to the bed and ensured he was seated comfortably. “Hoseok, you can do whatever you need to do,” he said firmly. “This sort of thing can really only work if all parties cooperate. If it’s exhausting you to this level, you can tell Namjoon he needs to find and train up somebody else to work with Jeongguk. Heck, maybe even Park Jimin could be tempted away from Stallions. I know he’s done wonders with Kim Taehyung-“

Hoseok’s gaze snapped angrily to Yoongi. “Do you think I can’t do my job?” he hissed.

“Hoba, no, that’s not-“

“Do you think Jimin would do it better?” he asked, a slightly hysterical edge to his voice.

Ah, there’s the sore spot, Yoongi realised. His friend, Jimin. Realising what he’d done, he set out to fix it. “No, I don’t. I think you’re the absolute best at what you do and nobody is on your level.” Looking deep into Hoseok’s eyes, he added, “But I also don’t want you working yourself to the bone. I’ve never seen you like this before and it scares me,” he admitted.

Hoseok let out the breath he’d been holding and his expression softened dramatically. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Yoongi-ah,” he murmured tenderly. “You were just trying to take care of me. I’m not very good at allowing myself to be taken care of,” he admitted.

Yoongi’s lips curved into an enigmatic smile. “It’s lucky I’m patient,” he quipped. “Now, what can I do that will make you feel better?” he asked, raising an eyebrow provocatively.

Much later, Hoseok dozed in his embrace as Yoongi stroked his sweat-drenched hair tenderly. For now, at least, Hoseok was calm.

*****

Autodromo Internazionale Enzo e Dino Ferrari, Imola, Italy

Imola brought with it a hushed sense of reverence, a paean to the great men who had met their end around this legendary circuit. It was a stark reminder to the current drivers that what they were doing was incredibly dangerous. Not as dangerous as it had once been – and that was down to the huge advances in safety that had been brought forward by the Grand Prix Drivers’ Association, of which Kim Seokjin was the current president.

At the start of the weekend's activities, Jeongguk and Taehyung had bowed to each other, apologised and shaken hands, a moment that was captured by dozens of cameras and immediately broadcast around the world. Jeongguk, at least, had been sincere. He wasn’t quite so sure about Taehyung. Yet, the Stallions driver had done the right thing, and that’s all that mattered, really.

The Italian spring weather delivered on its promise, providing the drivers with perfect conditions for qualifying and the race. Taehyung simply couldn’t get his head in the game, however, qualifying a distant third behind Jeon and His Majesty. During the top three qualifiers’ press conference, his answers were monosyllabic, his gaze unfocused. The press, naturally, took this as incontrovertible proof that Taehyung wasn’t taking things seriously. Whereas the truth was the furthest thing possible from their facile accusations.

When he’d done his usual jog around the track with Jimin on the day he’d arrived, Taehyung had paused at the apex of turn 3, feeling suddenly short of breath. Physically, he was fine. Only his feelings threatened to crush him, weighty as they were. Standing there in Tamburello, the corner where his hero Ayrton Senna had died, Taehyung became overwhelmed with emotion. When he was in the car it was a different story – he had a job to do, and all his focus was on doing that job. But standing there, undefended by carbon fibre and a fireproof race suit, grief seeped through the cracks in his façade.

Jimin, feeling well-rested after yet another upgraded flight thanks to Taehyung, paused and peered back at him.

“You OK, Taehyung?” he asked softly. Locking eyes with his driver, Jimin realised with a jolt that Taehyung looked haunted. Instinctively, he jogged over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The moment the warmth of Jimin’s touch bled into his skin, Taehyung began to cry.

“Oh,” Jimin uttered. Briefly, he was frozen to the spot as Taehyung sobbed. Once the shock had receded, however, Jimin could do nothing but hold out his arms for Taehyung to fall into. “It’s OK,” he soothed. “Let it all out.” Jimin wasn’t sure quite how long they stood there, holding on to each other as Taehyung cried. Only that Taehyung needed a shoulder to cry on and he was honoured to be that shoulder. He mused that it was vanishingly rare for Taehyung to grant anyone such a glimpse behind the mask.

“This track never fails to bring home to me just how dangerous it is, what we do,” Taehyung murmured. “I don’t like to think about it most of the time. But being here reminds me that one day, I might get into the car and just… not get out of it, you know?”

Jimin’s stomach flip-flopped at the realisation that what Taehyung was saying was true. Nobody who worked in Formula 1 liked to think about it, but it was a spectre that still haunted them. Fatal accidents were admittedly rare, these days, the last one being in 2015 and the previous one more than twenty years prior to that. Yet, a Formula 2 driver had died in 2019, bringing the awareness of the dangers right back to the current grid.

“So, every time we come here, I make a pact with myself to live my life to the fullest extent that I can. Because I can’t guarantee I’ll be on this earth for a long time,” Taehyung said flatly.

“Don’t say that,” Jimin blurted out. “You’ll live to a ripe old age, making controversial comments about the current crop of drivers and telling stories starting with ‘In my day’ until you pass away peacefully in your sleep,” he joked.

Jimin was relieved to see Taehyung smile. Even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Last one to the next corner’s a rotten egg,” Taehyung declared, darting away before Jimin had a chance to follow him.

As he watched Taehyung from behind, his easy gait accentuating the muscle definition in his legs, Jimin’s body unwittingly stirred.

Right alongside his heart.

*****

The news sites made much of the ‘feud’ between Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Taehyung, despite their public apologies to each other. Adding fuel to the fire was Jeongguk’s brilliant pole position, backed up by a convincing race victory in which Kim Seokjin trailed in his wake and Kim Taehyung languished in a tired-looking fourth, having lost a place to Chris Bang off the line and never being able to snatch it back. Realistically, Taehyung’s mind was already on the next race before the lights even went out at Imola. With the help of Jimin’s visualisations, he managed to bring home some decent points even though his heart wasn’t in it. What Jimin had done especially well, however, was help to prepare Taehyung for the challenge ahead – the jewel in the crown, the Grand Prix of Grand Prix. The race everybody wanted to win.

Taehyung had never even made the podium at Monaco. This year, he was ready to change that.

Circuit de Monaco, Monaco

Kim Seokjin sauntered into the circuit, dressed in head-to-toe Gucci and flashing a winning smile at the photographers tripping over themselves to get the best angles. Not that Kim Seokjin had a bad angle, given that he was exquisitely handsome from any viewpoint. Though there would be actual royalty in attendance, HSH Prince Albert II and Princess Charlene, to be exact, the crowd was far more excited to see The King. Perhaps this would be the weekend he’d regain the upper hand over his teammate? He was still sitting top of the championship standings, but Jeongguk had won more recently. Seokjin was all too aware that he had failed to win for almost a month. As for Kim Taehyung, it was better for Seokjin if he simply ignored him altogether. Experience had taught him that Taehyung’s challenge would falter at some point. Although he had to admit, the Stallions driver was certainly sticking to it better than he’d done in the past.

Seokjin was no stranger to winning around here – one win for each of his championship years. This tricky street track suited his particular skill set perfectly. Especially his ability to keep a cool head under pressure. So many of the greats had come unstuck here, throwing near-guaranteed wins away through stupid mistakes. Near-impossible to overtake around these tight corners, it had become even more difficult as the cars increased in size over the years. It was well known that Monaco was often won and lost during Saturday qualifying. Yet there was still scope for changes to happen during the race. Sometimes, if one was lucky, positions could be made up during the pit stops by going for the under- or over-cut.

Most often, however, the car that led into the first corner was the car that led over the finish line. Seokjin was determined that it should be him.

Kim Taehyung, however, wanted to lay claim to that as well. Blazingly fast from the first practice session, he topped the timesheets going into qualifying. With effortlessly fast, accurate laps, he breezed into Qualifying 3 alongside the usual suspects. Naturally, they included Jeon and His Majesty. Taehyung’s first hot lap was good enough for provisional pole position, half a tenth ahead of Jeon and a full tenth ahead of His Majesty. He knew, however, that both of them had more speed up their sleeves and he would have to pull out something extraordinary to keep that pole. With gritted teeth, he prepared for his second and final hot lap. Darting elegantly around the corners, Taehyung’s lap played out precisely as he’d visualised it, the margin between his tyres and the wall sometimes mere millimetres, but just enough to give him the best exits and earliest chances to pick up the throttle in every corner. As he crossed the line, he felt a sense of pure relief. Surely he’d done enough.

“Tae, that’s P1 for now,” Hyungsik informed him. “Kim and Jeon are still on their laps, but both of them are down on your times for sectors 1 and 2.”

With bated breath, Taehyung allowed himself to perform his cool-down lap on autopilot as Hyungsik kept him informed.

“Kim Seokjin finished P2, a tenth and a half down on your time.”

Taehyung breathed a sigh of relief. A few seconds later, however, his peace was shattered.

“But Tae,” Hyungsik added tentatively, “I’m sorry, but Jeon pulled out an incredible third sector and beat the lap record. You’ll start on the front row tomorrow, at least.”

“Damn it!” Taehyung cursed, slapping at his steering wheel. All was not lost. He could still get Jeon off the line, or pull off some tyre magic with an undercut later in the race. Still, it was going to make his Sunday a whole lot more difficult.

At least His Majesty will have to stare at my car's big red ass as I leave him behind, Taehyung thought smugly.

Jimin felt the distinct sensation of eyes on him every time he set foot in the Stallions garage. Oddly enough, Domi seemed to be everywhere he went. Jimin got along fine with her (as fine as one could when there was a fairly high language barrier, that is), but at this time, her presence struck him as somewhat sinister. Every time his eyes would graze past her, she was already looking at him. And her eyes were not always kind. Paranoia creeping in, Jimin was beginning to wonder if he’d somehow upset Domi. He decided his best course of action was to text Taehyung.

Park Jimin (17.54):

Um. Sorry to bother you.

But I’m wondering if maybe I did something to upset Domi?

She seems very ‘off’ with me.

Kim Taehyung (17.57):

🤣🤣🤣

You? Everyone knows you wouldn’t hurt a fly.

I’m sure it’s nothing.

Taehyung’s flippant reply didn’t go far toward reassuring Jimin.

*****

Rubbing his eyes and groaning, Jeongguk woke from a fitful sleep and decided to give it up as a lost cause. Checking his phone, he noticed it was not even 5am. As sleep was being elusive, he’d have to rely on adrenaline to get him through the day ahead. That, and coffee. Dragging himself out of bed, he wandered over to the in-room espresso machine and put together a triple-shot latte. After he’d downed it and ordered a lavish room service breakfast, Jeongguk sat down on the side of his bed. Eyes closed, he mimed a lap of the Monaco street circuit, reminding his body and mind exactly what he’d need to do precisely seventy-eight times this afternoon. Well, hopefully he’d get to do it seventy-eight times…

None of that, he reminded himself. Absolutely no negative thoughts allowed. What would Kim Seokjin do? he asked himself. Eyes jolting open in shock, Jeongguk registered what he’d just thought. His subconscious didn’t lie. Kim Seokjin may have outwardly transformed from his hero into his enemy, but deep down, Jeongguk still wanted to be like him. A flush crept up his neck and into his cheeks as he accepted the reality of that. Nothing in life was ever black and white, as Jeongguk had learned from a very young age.

Hoseok sighed as his phone rang for the fifth time in a row. The name flashing on the display was the same.

Kim Seokjin.

“Can’t he let me sleep, for God’s sake?” Hoseok whined, burrowing his head under a pillow. He’d been up rather late last night as Namjoon had invited him to his suite at the Hôtel de Paris, a welcome change from the usual Novotel the rest of the team had been booked into. They’d eaten, talked, and inevitably, fucked until the small hours. Hoseok had slunk out of the room and back to his hotel while Namjoon was asleep, feeling blissfully used. Unfortunately, he hadn’t accounted for one Kim Seokjin calling his phone repeatedly at 7am.

With a resigned whine, Hoseok grabbed at his phone and pressed the accept button.

“Hi, Jin.”

“Hoba, I hope I’m not disturbing you-“

“It’s fine,” Hoseok cut him off rather curtly. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I can’t sleep, so… Do you think we can meet and you can help me do a physical and mental warm-up?” Seokjin asked.

Hoseok realised that shockingly, Seokjin sounded… vulnerable.

Letting out a near-inaudible sigh, Hoseok knew he was going to do exactly what Seokjin had asked.

“OK. Meet me in the hotel gym in twenty.”

Seokjin’s voice was suffused with gratitude. “Thanks, Hoba. I really appreciate you, you know?”

“I know,” Hoseok sighed before hanging up. He just about had enough time to shower and wash the clinging scent of Namjoon off him before heading down to meet Seokjin.

Taehyung’s sleep hadn’t been particularly restful, either. He was beginning to wonder whether Jimin had been on to something with his text about Domi. Admittedly, she was behaving in a rather odd way. Possessive was the word that came to mind. Always physically affectionate, she’d ramped it up to the point that Taehyung couldn’t go anywhere without her basically climbing into his lap and staking her claim.

He liked Domi, he really did. She was attractive, amusing and admittedly great in bed… But this was a lot more than he’d bargained for.

Currently, she was asleep. Even at rest, she had wound herself around him, unwilling to let go for even a moment. Taehyung carefully disentangled himself, attempting not to wake her as he wandered to the bathroom to relieve himself.

“Taetae, dove sei?” a whiny voice called from the bedroom.

Taehyung pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes in exasperation. “Taking a piss,” he shot back curtly. Ensuring he took as long as possible over finishing up and washing his hands, Taehyung opened the bathroom door and flinched. Domi was right there, standing with her arms outstretched.

“Viene fra le mie braccia,” she insisted, pulling him into a hug.

Stiffening in her embrace, Taehyung tried desperately to allow himself to sink into her warmth. Although he simply couldn’t manage it.

“Domi, I have to go. I’ll be back in a little while,” he blurted out. “Have some breakfast. A fare colazione,” he added.

Domi’s lower lip trembled as Taehyung pulled on some workout gear and left the room, the door slamming behind him.

The streets of Monaco at 6am were oddly peaceful. Taehyung found it hard to believe that in just a few hours’ time, the grandstands would be filled with spectators, as would the balconies of the apartments and hotels with a view of the track. A few early birds were already queuing for entry as Taehyung jogged past one of the entrances to the circuit. One man caught his eye and Taehyung sent him a cheeky wave. The man did a hilarious double-take and almost fell over himself trying to tell the people around him who he’d just seen. By that time, Taehyung was safely off in the distance.

Early morning runs were Taehyung’s favourite way to get his body and mind to cooperate on race day. Just him, the pavement, and the music in his earbuds. Today, he’d chosen Frank Sinatra, smiling wryly as the strains of “New York, New York” accompanied him around the principality of Monte Carlo. Unfortunately, the time came when Taehyung knew he had to turn back. There was no use expending all his energy when he had a race to complete. Remembering that Domi would be in the room waiting for him, Taehyung cringed. Ah well, I have to face her at some point, he told himself resignedly and set off back to the hotel.

*****

The glitz and glamour of the Monaco Grand Prix was unparalleled, but Seokjin reflected that it was a shame the actual racing didn’t quite live up to that standard. He’d told Hoseok that he was not looking forward to seventy-eight laps of a boring procession. Hoseok’s face had dropped in horror.

“Who are you and what have you done with Kim Seokjin?” he demanded. “You’ve always talked about how much you love the challenge of Monaco because it’s a challenge against yourself, not everyone else,” he reminded him. “I always thought that was a wonderfully mature outlook. Don’t tell me you’re turning into a boy racer after all?” he’d quipped.

Seokjin had barely been able to muster a wry smile. Sixty minutes, a short workout, and a session on visualisation later, The King was feeling rather more like himself.

“I can’t really say this because I work for both of you,” Hoseok began.

Seokjin nudged him in the ribs. “But.”

“But,” Hoseok continued, grinning. “I hope you take the fight to Jeongguk, today. Nothing against the kid, but I’d love to see The King retain his crown around the principality.”

Seokjin’s icy heart melted a little at those words. “Thank you, Hoba,” he murmured. “Thank you for everything.”

*****

Jeongguk’s focus lay shattered all around him. Collecting up the different pieces of his concentration was akin to herding cats – frustrating, and damn near impossible. He’d spoken to Hoseok, who had helped somewhat, but his thoughts still drifted around like confetti in the wind.

“Jeongguk?” a commanding voice shook him out of his own mind.

Whirling around, Jeongguk came face to face with Kim Namjoon. He still hadn’t gotten over his awe of the slightly older man, often stumbling over his words whenever Namjoon spoke directly to him. Perhaps, Jeongguk had thought, had they met in different circumstances, he would have developed quite the crush.

“Yes, Namjoon?” he replied politely.

Namjoon’s usually fierce eyes crinkled into a smile. “I just wanted to wish you all the best out there today,” he told him. “Your first Monaco pole position! Hopefully you can convert it to the win. But if that doesn’t happen, don’t feel too bad about it. Your time will come, Jeongguk.”

For the millionth time, Jeongguk was glad he had Namjoon as his team principal. “Thank you,” he replied quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can ask for,” Namjoon reassured him. “Now get out there and show them what Jeon Jeongguk is made of!”

Oh, I will, Jeongguk thought, a menacing smile spreading across his face.

As the clock ticked over to three o’clock, the cars peeled away from their grid slots for the formation lap. Tensions were always high at this moment in the weekend and yet, Taehyung reflected that he’d never felt quite so unsettled before the start of a race. Thoughts of Domi and her bizarre actions filled his mind. Even worse was that he couldn’t stop thinking about what Jimin had said, and wondering why Domi would have a beef with him, of all people. Rounding the final corner, Taehyung knew it was time to banish such thoughts and focus on the seventy-eight laps of near-perfect driving he would have to produce in order to get to the end of the race.

The moment the lights went out, Jeon shot off like a rocket. Taehyung prided himself on his fast starts, but even he had to admit that Jeon’s had been spectacular. Unfortunately, it meant that he was still in second place and likely to stay there unless he could pull off something truly incredible.

“Keep your head down, Tae,” Hyungsik reminded him. Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Will do, Hyungsikkie,” he replied flatly.

The previous year’s Monaco Grand Prix had the dubious honour of being a race in which the top ten qualifiers had finished where they’d started. Not a single overtake for a points position was completed during the entire afternoon. Seokjin had been pleased, at the time, given he was in the lead. And still, part of him fervently hoped for something different to happen today.

Taehyung knew that a basic one-stop was the preferred strategy. Which also meant that he really only had one chance to undercut Jeon. When the leading Silver Bullet swerved into the pit lane, Taehyung gritted his teeth and attacked every single corner to produce the fastest lap of the race so far. Feeling as though he’d done enough, he responded favourably to Hyungsik’s call for him to pit. All proceeded smoothly, and as Taehyung was exiting the pits he felt quite certain that he’d emerge in front of Jeon.

Only to see the Silver Bullet sweep right back past him.

“Fuck!” Taehyung yelled, disappointment slamming into him like a punch in the gut. It would be almost impossible to win from here.

Unless.

Jimin’s voice floated lightly into his mind.

“Just picture it. The final lap, and you’re lying in second place. An unexpected opportunity comes for you to pass in the tunnel at Portier. You grit your teeth, floor the throttle and zoom on past, ultimately winning the race.”

A lot of things had to align for that to happen. But Taehyung wasn’t going to give up hope just yet.

“Guk, you’re doing a great job. Well done on that out lap, you scuppered Taehyung’s undercut brilliantly,” Yeonjun informed him.

Jeongguk snickered to himself. Although he and Taehyung had indeed buried the hatchet, it still felt good to get one over on him. Now all he had to do was remain calm and keep the car on track and he’d be the winner of the Monaco Grand Prix.

“I have a feeling something’s going to happen,” Seokjin confided to Yoongi over the radio.

“To you?” Yoongi replied in a panic.

“No, not to me. In the race, I mean,” he clarified.

“Ah. OK. How about you focus on yourself instead?” Yoongi, ever-practical, chided him.

Seokjin rolled his eyes fondly and continued doing precisely what he’d been doing.

This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for ever since I became a racing driver, Jeongguk thought as he crossed the start/finish line for the final lap of the race. Kim Taehyung was still right on his tail, but all Jeongguk had to do was keep the car on the road and he would win. Tears pricked at his eyes as he guided his Silver Bullet around each corner. As he entered the tunnel at Portier, Kim Taehyung still hot on his heels, his eyes adjusted quickly to the low light. Not quickly enough, however, to prevent the Stallion from drawing alongside him and was inching its nose ahead. For most drivers, a move like that would be potentially race-ending. But most drivers were not Kim Taehyung.

“Oh shit,” Jeongguk wailed, instinctively knowing the corner was lost. Taehyung had pulled off the impossible and overtaken him. And Jeongguk had to admit that it was fair and square.

The crowd roared and rose to their feet as the cars came out of the tunnel in reverse order.

“Nice, Tae! Beautiful work,” Hyungsik praised him. “Now just keep it clean, OK?”

“Gotcha,” Taehyung replied, businesslike. Every corner felt like an eternity with Jeon Jeongguk glued to his wheel tracks. But Taehyung’s concentration didn’t falter for a moment. As he crossed the finish line, Taehyung’s eyes filled with tears. He’d done it. He’d won Monaco and what’s more, he’d done it with an overtake.

He’d done exactly what Jimin had told him he could do.

“Kim Taehyung, you have won the Monaco Grand Prix!” Hyungsik crowed over the radio.

“Taehyungie, you star! What a move! What a driver you are!” Seojoon chimed in.

“Oh my God,” Taehyung said quietly. “I can’t believe it.”

“You’d better believe it because you did it! And what a way to do it,” Hyungsik replied. “You've also taken the fastest lap and moved into the championship lead, to top it all off. Now, go park the car and get over here and let us all hug you.”

Taehyung was so overwhelmed by emotion that when he parked his car in the number one spot he knocked the board over. “Oops,” he giggled. Pushing himself out of the car, he immediately restored it to an upright position. Pointing at the number one, and then himself, he pumped both fists in the air to the roars of the capacity crowd.

Catching sight of the red uniforms of his team. Taehyung launched himself over to them with a primal yell. Hurling himself at the throng of team members congregating by the fence, his eyes searched desperately for one person in particular.

Ah, there he is. “Jimin!” Taehyung bellowed.

Jimin’s eyes widened as he realised Taehyung was addressing him. “Taehyung! Well done, what a win!” he beamed, pushing himself through the crowd.

Taehyung noticed this and held out his hands for Jimin to cling on to. The moment Jimin reached the front, Taehyung enveloped him into an enormous, sweaty hug.

“I did it, Jimin!” he murmured. “I did it exactly the way we talked about,” he said proudly, his arms tightening around Jimin’s waist. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“I’ll always believe in you, Tae,” Jimin replied instinctively.

A warmth spread through Taehyung’s stomach. The feeling was alien to him, but it made him want nothing more than to keep hugging Jimin. Unfortunately, he felt himself being pulled away by first Hyungsik, then Seojoon. It wasn’t until he was heading to the cool-down room before the podium ceremony that Taehyung realised Domi wasn’t there.

What he hadn’t seen, however, was Domi watching from a distance as Taehyung hugged Jimin.

“Taehyung è innamorata di lui, non di me,” she’d whispered to herself, tears beginning to fall.

The fact that Taehyung hadn’t even registered her presence told Domi precisely what she had to do next.

Seokjin discreetly tapped Jeongguk on the shoulder as they walked to the cool-down room. Jeongguk stiffened and whirled around, glaring at him. “What?” he snapped.

Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, Seokjin’s eyes widened. “Look, Jeon, I just wanted to suggest something.”

Jeongguk sighed. “Suggest away.”

Oddly nervous, Seokjin cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t Kim Taehyung’s first win – far from it – but it’s his first win at Monaco, and I thought it would be fitting for you and I to raise him up on to our shoulders on the podium.”

Jeongguk recoiled in shock. Yes, that would be fitting. The shocking part, however, was that Kim Seokjin was suggesting it.

“If you don’t want to-“

“No, I do want to,” Jeongguk cut him off. “I’m just a little surprised to hear it coming from you, that’s all.”

As much as Jeongguk’s careless words hurt, Seokjin had to admit they’d hit the mark. Shrugging off the flash of hurt, he locked eyes with Jeongguk. “So, we have a deal then?”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agreed. “Just catch my eye when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin replied. “Also…” he trailed off.

Jeongguk glanced at him sideways. “Also?”

Seokjin cringed a little. “Also, I’m sorry. It must hurt to lose that way.”

A lump formed in Jeongguk’s throat as Seokjin’s words landed. Yes, it did hurt. But he wouldn’t begrudge Kim Taehyung a truly exceptional win. Somehow, knowing that Seokjin understood him went some way toward soothing the pain.

Standing on the top step of the podium, having received his winner’s trophy from the Prince of Monaco, Taehyung was engulfed by a surge of emotion. Foremost was joy, of course – but sitting alongside it was regret for the fact it had taken him so long to step up to this level, to take control of his own destiny. And off to the side a little, yet painfully raw, was longing. That was the confusing part. Taehyung had just achieved one of his lifelong dreams – to win at Monaco – so what was the longing about?

To his immense surprise, he was suddenly being lifted into the air by Jeon and His Majesty.

“Wha-“

“Just go with it, Taehyung,” Seokjin told him. “Let us do this for you.”

From his vantage point on Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Seokjin’s shoulders, Kim Taehyung felt even more on top of the world as the crowd cheered and cheered. A rhythmic chant of his name started up and Taehyung felt tears threatening him once again. A pair of sparkling eyes caught his gaze, framed by a halo of blonde hair. Rosebud lips lifted into a smile before they began forming the syllables of his name.

Why would anyone need to stargaze when there’s an entire galaxy right there in his eyes? Taehyung caught himself thinking.

In that moment, his longing made perfect sense.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as the microphone was shoved in his face for post-race interviews. He gave some answers which he hoped were coherent, repeating the same things over and over until he was finally able to get out of the circuit and back to his hotel.

Closing the door behind him, Taehyung leaned on it with a heavy sigh. Idly, he wondered where Domi had got to, given that she wasn't here. His eyes darted around the room until they landed on something unusual.

There, on the bed, was a note.  

Noticing that it was written in English, Taehyung felt a brief moment of pride in Domi’s hard work. As he began to read, however, the smile fell right off his face.

Dearest TaeTae,

I hope my English is OK for you to understand. I used an internet translator to help.

When I met you I sensed you were running away from something. I thought maybe I could become someone you could run to.

But in the end, I realised that I could never have your heart. Because that belongs to someone else, doesn’t it? Maybe you didn’t realise it yourself.

I see the way you look at him, TaeTae. And I see the way he looks at you when he thinks nobody is watching. I thought I could handle it, because you were with me. But I could not. I cannot.

You have a chance at happiness, at real love. It breaks my heart that it is not with me. But that is the way of life, is it not?

I have packed all my things and am returning to Italy. Please don’t contact me, it will only bring pain to both of us. Know that I will remember you fondly and think only of the good times.

Love,

Domi.

After re-reading the note several times and coming to the conclusion that the contents would not change no matter how many times he perused it, Taehyung allowed the note to fall to the floor. As if possessed, he went straight to the minibar and downed three double shots of vodka that barely took the edge off.

Hurt pride was one thing, and Taehyung’s was definitely battered right now. That aside, a wise voice from deep in his soul confirmed that Domi had been right.

Because he was in love with Jimin.

He was in love with Jimin.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Taehyung pressed a number on speed dial.

“Vern?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna hit the town? I need a stiff drink and the minibar just isn’t going to cut it.”

Vernon laughed. “Sure thing, Tae. I was wondering when you’d call. Meet you in the lobby in half an hour?”

Taehyung was about to get really fucking drunk.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya, Barcelona, Spain

The scent of lust hung thickly in the air of Namjoon’s lavish suite as Hoseok struggled to catch his breath. Damn, but that man was a talented lover. After Namjoon had finished bringing Hoseok to fierce, sweet highs, and at last surrendering to his own, they were utterly worn out – and yet, despite all that, a part of Hoseok was still wanting, desperate for more. Although Namjoon may have lacked a little in the way of tenderness, he certainly made up for it in enthusiasm, Hoseok mused as he studied the sensuous, gently curved profile of the man lying beside him.

Unasked-for, images of Yoongi invaded Hoseok’s mind, making him choke on his breath. How was it possible that he was lying beside Namjoon, sated and drowsy, and still he was thinking of Yoongi? A bolt of anger flashed through him, vanishing as quickly as it had come.

“Hoba? A penny for your thoughts?” Namjoon queried.

Hoseok jolted back to the present. Scrambling to think of something to talk about other than Yoongi and his own guilt, Hoseok’s grasp landed on the driver conundrum. Cringing, he nevertheless decided to go with it, blurting out, “Actually, Joon, I really need to talk to you about the situation with Seokjin and Jeongguk.”

The long-suffering sigh Namjoon emitted let Hoseok know that his admission wasn’t news to him. “I’ve been meaning to bring that up. How is it going?”

Hoseok paused. How honest did he really want to be?

He decided to tell Namjoon the full extent of the truth. “Joon, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing this,” he said regretfully. “I’m working twelve-hour days just to keep them both happy, because as you well know, they refuse to work together. Well, Seokjin refuses to work with Jeongguk. But I have a feeling that if Seokjin were to give in, Jeongguk would follow suit,” he clarified.

“Hoba, what did I say about racing drivers? You’ve got to treat them with a firm hand-“

“Namjoon, they are human beings. Not dogs,” Hoseok snapped.

Namjoon recoiled slightly, creating a space between himself and Hoseok. For a moment, he paused for thought. He let out a gentle puff of breath and his expression softened. “I’m sorry, Hoba. Maybe I need to admit that not everything can be solved in a practical way,” he murmured. Damn right I do, Namjoon thought to himself. If only I could be more real with my own emotions, perhaps I wouldn’t feel like Hoseok is constantly slipping through my fingers. Looking deeply into Hoseok’s eyes, he suggested, “How about we start this conversation again, and I really listen this time? Instead of simply waiting to talk,” Namjoon clarified.

Oh, Hoseok thought. He really is trying. Warmth spread throughout his chest and stomach as he was overcome with fondness for the surprisingly sweet man beside him. It was easy to forget that Namjoon, with all his responsibilities and hard-won business acumen, was the same age as Hoseok. And a year younger than Yoongi, Hoseok remembered guiltily. Allowing his lips to form a soft smile, Hoseok placed his hand on Namjoon’s. “OK. Let’s start again.”

The joy that spread across Namjoon’s face was infectious and Hoseok was unable to stop himself from sporting a matching grin. It’s rare he lets me see his dimples, Hoseok mused. And such dimples. Top-quality. Deep enough to lose yourself in, if so inclined. “Sure thing, Joonie. Let’s kick this off again,” he agreed.

A cheeky smile playing at the edge of his lips, Hoseok restarted the conversation. “Hey, you know what? I’m kind of struggling with being performance coach to two drivers who won’t co-operate.”

Namjoon cocked his head, clearly letting the words sink in. “I see. So what exactly is happening?”

The warmth in Hoseok’s chest intensified, spreading thickly throughout his body. “Well, I’m basically having to work twelve-hour days because Seokjin is refusing to train at the same time as Jeongguk. If I could have them both in the same place, training would only take half the day and I could supervise them while they’re completing their personalised training plans. Heck, they might even be able to help each other out. But Seokjin is digging his heels in.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up. Yoongi’s wisdom from a few weeks previous replayed in his mind. “I think that what Seokjin really craves is feeling needed,” Yoongi had told him. Namjoon had been floored by that – mostly, because he wouldn’t have thought of it. Seokjin had always seemed so cool, so self-sufficient. When Yoongi had showed him otherwise, he’d resolved to give it some serious thought. However, like the fool that he was, Namjoon had become busy and carelessly managed to sweep it under the rug as he did with all other inconvenient emotions. Perhaps now, he could begin to make amends for that.

“Do you mind if I offer something?” he ventured.

Hoseok’s lips twitched. Wow, he is serious about this, he thought excitedly. “Go ahead,” he encouraged.

“Look, this might not be helpful. But on the off chance that it is, I want to say it. Hoba, have you made it clear to Seokjin that you need his help in order for this to work? That his cooperation would be appreciated?”

Hoseok looked at Namjoon blankly. “Uh, no. I haven’t. I guess I’ve just sighed and complained about what he’s not doing,” he admitted.

“Yoongi told me something pretty wise recently,” Namjoon murmured.

The unexpected mention of his other lover’s name raised fresh goosebumps on Hoseok’s skin.  “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon affirmed. “He told me that just because Seokjin doesn’t ‘do’ feelings, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them. That he craves feeling needed, knowing he’s still of use to this team. And with all the excitement surrounding Jeongguk, it would be easy for him not to feel that way,” Namjoon explained.

A pang of sorrow flooded Hoseok’s body as he realised he had been just as guilty of marginalising Seokjin. The very driver who had brought Silver Bullets back to glory, whose spectacular performances had raised team morale beyond their wildest dreams. And here they were, treating him like an afterthought. “Oh, Joon. I get it, I really do,” Hoseok sighed. “You know what? I’m going to make damn sure that Seokjin knows just how much I need him. Heck, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t even have a job… a job that has recently had the benefit of a large salary increase,” Hoseok added, tongue firmly in cheek.

“We need to do better,” Namjoon declared.

“Let’s do better,” Hoseok agreed.

Seeing this unexpected side to Namjoon had ramped up Hoseok’s attraction to him tenfold. I may be a little bit in love with Yoongi, but I’m definitely a little bit in love with Namjoon as well, he thought helplessly. Unable to stop himself, Hoseok leaned forward and took Namjoon’s face in his hands, planting a hungry kiss on his parted lips.

“You know what else I think we can do better?” Hoseok murmured lowly.

Namjoon’s dimples made yet another appearance, much to Hoseok’s delight. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

*****

Taehyung had spent a day and a half getting extremely drunk before he’d even dared to mention the fact that Domi had left him. The moment he did speak about it, he understood precisely why he hadn’t. Vernon had gone quiet, the pity in his eyes almost too much to bear. What Taehyung had hoped for at that time was someone to party with, to help him take his mind off things. What he got, however, was someone who wouldn’t quite meet his eyes and treated him like he was in danger of breaking.

What nobody realised was that by leaving him, Domi had set Taehyung free. Unfortunately, she’d also forced him to face the fact that he was in love with someone who would never, ever love him back. Why on earth would Jimin want someone like Taehyung? Jimin, who was kind, smart, fiery, and funny, not to mention the most stunning human being Taehyung had ever laid eyes on, even if it had taken him a couple of years to notice. Jimin, who was emotionally literate. Unlike Taehyung, who spent his entire life running away from feelings. Although he understood his reticence to engage with feelings more than ever, now that they’d actually caught up with him.

“C’mon, Taehyung, this is getting ridiculous,” Vernon grumbled, attempting to drag his inert teammate away from the bar. Since winning the Monaco Grand Prix and returning to his hotel room to find Domi’s note, Taehyung had taken up residence in this particular establishment, refusing to leave except to sleep. Today, he wasn’t even willing to do that – instead, he’d decided it was easier to just fall asleep with his head resting on the bar’s countertop. Much to the chagrin of the owner.

“Can you get him out of here?” the man hissed to Vernon. “It’s bad for business,” he added, eyes darting left and right as yet another group walked in, spotted Taehyung, and hurried out the door.

Vernon rolled his eyes. “I bet you didn’t say that when you first caught sight of his gold credit card,” he retorted. “Look, I’m doing my best. But there’s only so much I can do on my own, here.”

Taehyung opened his eyes just a sliver, his gravelly voice trying to form a word. A name? Perhaps. It was almost impossible to tell.

Oh, he’s probably calling for Domi. I need to remind him that she’s not coming back, Vernon thought sadly. “Hey, Tae. She’s not coming back, remember? She went home to Italy.”

“…in pain,” Taehyung replied.

“You’re in pain? Where does it hurt?” Vernon asked, panicked.

Suddenly lucid, Taehyung opened his eyes and fixed Vernon with a glare. “Not in pain. In Spain,” he said, clear and calm as though he’d never touched a drop of alcohol in his life.

“But you told me Domi’s in Italy-“

“Not Domi.”

“Huh?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, then immediately regretted it as the room started to spin and didn’t seem to want to stop. “ ‘s’not Domi I need,” he explained, his speech slurring again. “ ‘s him.” Dragging his phone out of his pocket, Taehyung unlocked it and scrolled through his photos until he landed on one of a smiling, carefree Jimin laughing at something Hyungsik had said to him.

“Him,” he told Vernon again, pointing in the vague direction of Jimin’s face.

“Oh, Jimin! You want Jimin to come here?” Vernon almost laughed. It would be far easier to get in touch with Taehyung’s performance coach than his ex-girlfriend. This, he could work with.

“Yeah. Jimin,” Taehyung slurred, placing his cheek against the phone and laying his head back down against the bar.

Vernon was already on the phone.

*****

I wonder how Taehyung is doing, Jimin thought idly as he disembarked at Barcelona airport. After a frustrating, overly full short flight in which he had not been upgraded to First Class (not that he’d been expecting it), Jimin was rumpled, sweaty and grumpy. As he waited for his bag to arrive, Jimin felt the telltale buzzing of his phone, lodged deep in the pocket of his jeans. “Whoever it is can wait,” he grumbled, waiting for it to ring out. Just as soon as it finished, the buzzing began again in earnest. Jimin pulled it out of his pocket and squinted at the display. Not a number he was familiar with, so he’d let it go to voicemail. Ah! There was his bag, floating along on the conveyor belt. He grabbed it and was about to stride out to the airport taxi rank when his phone began buzzing again.

The same number blinked at him. Must be a spam caller, he thought. In exasperation, Jimin swiped the accept button, unleashed a tirade of furious Korean, and hung up.

That seemed to have silenced it.

Until, a few moments later, the buzzing started up again. “Oh for fu- Oh.” The caller display read Kim Taehyung.

“Taehyung? What’s up?” he answered, slightly breathless.

“Ah, now he answers his phone! To be honest, I could only understand like one-fifth of what you said last time and I’m pretty sure none of it was good,”  a familiar voice cut him off. “It’s Vernon, by the way. Sorry to call like a million times, but I really needed to talk to you. I should have known you’d answer the moment I used Taehyungie’s phone,” he said archly.

Guilt crept up Jimin’s spine. He really should save Vernon’s number, they were part of the same team after all. “I’m so sorry, Vernon! I just landed in Barcelona and was waiting for my suitcase to arrive,” he explained sheepishly. “When are you getting here?”

“Ah, you see, that’s the thing,” Vernon replied tightly.

“Oh?” Jimin uttered, his gut sinking.

Vernon sighed. “I’m not sure how to put this, Jimin, so I’ll just come out with it. Taehyung has been drunk for three days and is flat-out refusing to leave Monaco. Obviously, we need to get him sobered up and to Barcelona before Friday and at this rate, it’s not looking great.”

Jimin blanched. That explained why he hadn’t heard a peep from Taehyung since Sunday. He’d really thought his driver had moved past this kind of behaviour, especially since Domi had come on the scene. A flash of anger ignited in Jimin’s gut. “What the hell does this have to do with me, other than the fact that I work for him?” he blurted out. “I’ve made it damn clear that racing driver wrangling is not my favourite part of the job. Maybe you should talk to his girlfriend instead?”

“Well that’s the strangest part,” Vernon added. “I’m not sure if you heard, but Domi dumped him right after the Grand Prix,” he explained. “She did it by leaving him a note, too. Damn.”

“Oh, shit,” Jimin responded, feeling his gut clench in sympathy.

For the briefest of moments.

Shortly afterwards, a tingle of excitement started where the clenching had been. What the fuck? I shouldn’t be feeling excited when Taehyung is hurting, he admonished himself. Oh. Vernon was still on the line, and waiting for a response…  “I really don’t understand what you want me to do about it,” Jimin said helplessly.

“I mean, he’s not the most coherent he’s ever been right now, but Tae literally just found a photo of you on his phone and told me he wants you to come here,” Vernon explained. “I’ve tried everything, but he won’t listen to me. So I thought that maybe you could come back to Monaco and convince him to dry out and get his sorry ass to Barcelona.”

“I don’t know, Vernon. I mean, I just got off the flight-“

“I’ll pay,” Vernon begged. “Please, Jimin. I’ve never seen him this bad and it’s scaring me,” he admitted, his voice cracking a little.

Jimin felt his resolve begin to crumble. “I guess it’s only a short flight,” he acquiesced. Of course, his agreement had nothing to do with his confusing feelings for Taehyung. Nothing at all.

“You’re a godsend, Jimin,” Vernon breathed. “Since you’re at the airport right now, can you organise the flight and I’ll transfer you the money as soon as you send me your details?”

“I guess so,” Jimin sighed, hating himself a little for being such a pushover. “I’ll be in touch.”

As he ended the call, Jimin stared at his phone in barely-concealed disbelief. This sort of thing wasn’t part of the responsibilities detailed in his contract. Yet again, he cursed the day he’d decided to start working with Kim Taehyung. Had he known he’d never have a moment’s peace again, the tempting salary package might have been a little easier to resist.

And yet, you love it, a knowing voice told him. Because you love-

“No,” Jimin told himself out loud. “No,” he added, a little quieter but no less firm.

Twenty minutes later, Jimin was through security again and boarding the next flight back to Nice. While waiting for take-off he sent the cost info and his bank details to Vernon, not thinking much about it. Jimin was pleasantly surprised when a funds transfer notification pinged up from his banking app mere minutes later.

Vernon was quick, Jimin would give him that…

The flight, however, crammed into cattle class as he was, felt like the longest two hours Jimin had ever spent.

*****

Taehyung’s head was barely propped up by his hand as he leaned heavily on the bar. Vernon had been here, hadn’t he? But Vernon had disappeared, telling him something about an airport. Oh. Had his teammate decided to leave him here alone, at last?

Good. There would be no more nagging. Taehyung was sick and tired of people nagging him. Didn’t they know he was a grown man and if he wanted to fuck up his own life, it was his right to do just that? Jeez. People were acting like it was actually important that Taehyung went to Barcelona and drove in the next race when he knew that Kai would basically bite his hand off for the opportunity to drive a Stallion for the weekend. He’d get back to it when he was ready, and people should stop nagging him.

“He’s over there, Jimin,” Taehyung thought he heard Vernon say. Wait. Vernon was back?

Hold on.

Jimin?

Groggily, he swivelled around on his bar stool. “Jimin?” he called out, feeling the name crack in his throat.

“Hi, Taehyung,” Jimin answered softly.

Yes, it was Jimin. Looking exhausted, with deep bags under his eyes and blonde hair all over the place. He really needed to get his roots done, too.

Taehyung privately thought he’d never seen anyone more beautiful.

Of course, Jimin had no idea he thought that. Even in his drunken state, Taehyung knew how important it was not to let on.

“Hi, Jimin,” he replied. “Where did you come from?” he asked vaguely, dissolving into a string of hiccups.

Jimin couldn’t help but laugh. “Barcelona, actually. I’ve been told you’re causing trouble. Is that true, Taehyung?”

Jimin’s laugh is more beautiful than cherry blossoms in the spring, Taehyung thought. Focus, Taehyung, focus, he reminded himself.

“ ‘M’not causing trouble,” he pouted. “ ‘S’just that people keep telling me what to do.”

“Oh, I see,” Jimin replied amusedly. “Well, we can’t have that.”

Is he humouring me? It sounds like he’s humouring me, Taehyung wondered.

“Don’t you think it would be better if you came to Barcelona with the rest of the team, hmm?”

“No,” Taehyung pouted, shaking his head. “Don’t wanna go.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Jimin asked gently. “How come?”

“Cause I don’t wanna,” he replied petulantly. “Just don’t wanna.”

“But Taehyung, you have a job to do. You love racing!”

It turns out that racing isn’t the only thing I love, Taehyung thought, an exquisite ache blossoming in his chest as he took in Jimin’s earnest face. “Meh,” he replied listlessly, shrugging his shoulders.

Jimin’s heart hurt on Taehyung’s behalf. Even in previous years, when Taehyung had thrown away the championship, Jimin had never seen him quite so downcast… Domi must have really broken his heart, Jimin thought. Maybe I should broach the subject. Gently, of course.

“How’s your heart doing?” he asked, tentatively placing a hand on Taehyung’s slumped shoulder.

What?! How does he know? Taehyung panicked. Surely I haven’t been that obvious. “Hurts,” he admitted, leaning into Jimin’s touch. “Sucks when the other person doesn’t feel the same way.”

Oh, poor baby, Jimin found himself thinking. Resisting the urge to coo and pull Taehyung into his arms for some much-needed comfort, Jimin patted him detachedly on the arm. “You know what’s good for heartache?” he asked, voice low and conspiratorial.

“What,” Taehyung replied flatly.

“Sleep,” Jimin confided. “If you go back to your hotel and get some sleep, I promise you’ll feel better in the morning. And then we can go to Barcelona, OK?”

“Only if you come with me,” Taehyung drawled.

Jimin blanched. “What do you mean, Taehyung?”

“ ‘S easy. You come with me and I’ll do it.”

“Uhh…” Jimin uttered, mouth falling open.

Gathering himself together, Taehyung worked very hard on focusing both his eyes in the same place and gazed right into Jimin’s very sparkly ones. “There’s a comfortable sofa bed in my suite, Jimin. It’s all yours. I’ll go to Barcelona, but only if you come back to my hotel, and promise to travel in the private plane with me tomorrow,” he slurred, attempting to give him a cheeky wink. By the way Jimin’s face scrunched up, Taehyung was pretty sure he had fallen short of that aim. But wait, Jimin was talking…

“…if you insist, I’ll go with you, Taehyung. As long as you’re paying,” he added sassily.

“Course I am. When have you ever known me not to? C’mon, let’s get some sleep, and then tomorrow we’ll go to Barcelona,” Taehyung announced, wobbling unsteadily to his feet.

“Thank you,” Vernon silently mouthed to Jimin as they each took one of Taehyung’s arms and led him out of the bar.

That was surprisingly easy, Jimin thought to himself in disbelief. So why couldn’t anyone else do it?

*****

Seokjin had to admit that Jeongguk’s words before the Monaco podium ceremony had left him feeling a little sore. Namely, the fact that he hadn’t expected such good sportsmanship from Seokjin. In all his years as a racer, Seokjin had always striven for perfection in all aspects. Naturally, that included the way he treated his fellow competitors.

Sucking in a breath, he had to admit that he’d really fallen down on that score when it came to Jeon Jeongguk. If only the kid wasn’t so goddamn infuriating… No, Seokjin pulled himself up short. You can’t think that way. He’s your teammate, but first of all he’s a human being, a fellow racer. Seokjin was no stranger to competition – he’d faced it from the moment he’d taken the start line in his first go-kart race. Until this year, it had been so easy to turn the other cheek, to not allow pettiness to crawl under his skin.

So why was it, exactly, that Jeon Jeongguk seemed to constantly stoke the fires of fury in Seokjin’s gut?

“Yo,” Jeongguk greeted him as he slumped in a chair in preparation for their team meeting.

Seokjin had to physically stop himself from scoffing. Be nice, he reminded himself. In any case, at least Jeongguk was acknowledging him. The least he could do was acknowledge him in return.

“Hello, Jeongguk,” he replied stiffly.

Jeongguk whirled around in his chair, a look of surprise on his face.

That’s one point to Kim Seokjin, Seokjin thought to himself.

Retreating to his driver room post-meeting, Jeongguk slammed the door shut and collapsed on the sofa, head in hands. “What the fuck is he playing at?” he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief. After ignoring him for weeks on end, Kim Seokjin was suddenly talking to him? I mean, the sum total of it had been about twenty words, but that was twenty more words than Seokjin had spoken to him in a long, long time. It wasn’t just the returned greeting, either. Seokjin had actually listened to what Jeongguk had to say during the team meeting, and responded favourably to it. Was Jeongguk dreaming, or…?

More concerning was the rush of adrenaline Jeongguk had felt when Seokjin’s eyes had met his across the meeting table. A rush that had felt an awful lot like…

Lust.

Jeongguk’s mind cast back to the first time he had seen Kim Seokjin on television. Fresh from his very first points finish for Wilkins, Seokjin’s hair had been sweaty and slicked back, eyes mesmerizingly intense, his cheeks a high colour and his luscious lips glistening as though he’d just licked them. And all that was without mentioning the sheer width of his shoulders that almost seemed to strain the fabric of his race suit. Seokjin’s air of self-possession had been incredibly alluring, back then. Nineteen-year-old Jeongguk had never seen a hotter man in his entire life.

It seemed that nothing had changed except his age.

“No, Jeongguk. No way. You are not doing this,” he told himself firmly. Really, he didn’t need to take things so seriously. This was simply a sign that perhaps their teammate relationship wasn’t completely doomed, after all.

Still, it wouldn’t do to get too cocky.

*****

“Oh, thank God,” Seojoon breathed in utter relief as Taehyung nonchalantly slid through the door of the Stallions motorhome, followed closely by Jimin. “Jimin, is it you I have to thank for this?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open in shock. Before he could say anything, Taehyung spoke up.

“Yes. It’s all thanks to Jimin. I think it’s time you gave him a payrise and some better benefits, too. Do you know how difficult it is for a performance coach to work at full capacity if he’s forced to fly economy class everywhere?” Taehyung sniped, his eyes flashing cheekily at Seojoon.

“Well, we can certainly discuss-“

“No. It needs zero discussion. Jimin needs to be able to rest between races, and that includes during travel. I suggest a special provision be made for him to travel with me,” Taehyung stated, the corners of his mouth curving up into a smug smile. “And you should know, Seojoon-hyung, that it’s not really a suggestion.”

In all his time working for the Stallions team, Jimin had never once seen Park Seojoon speechless. There’s a first time for everything, he reflected, desperately holding back a giggle.

“I-uh-“

“Look, take it out of my salary if you want,” Taehyung added airily. “I’ve got more money than I need, anyway. I’ve been paying out of my own pocket for Jimin to travel first class lately, but I think it would be better for everyone if he joined me on chartered flights.”

As the implications of Taehyung’s words finally sank in, Jimin almost choked on his own saliva.

“Y-you want me to travel with you?” he breathed, incredulous.

“Yeah,” Taehyung replied instantly. “I’m at my best when you’re around.”

The blush that started from the tips of Jimin’s toes reached his cheeks in record time. His entire body was flaming with it. He doesn’t mean anything by that, Jimin reminded himself. Remember that his girlfriend has just broken up with him. “U-uhh,” he uttered, unable to form coherent words.

“Hey, Jimin,” Taehyung was saying, and he was close… almost too close, in fact. He’d bent his head a little so that he was at Jimin’s eye level – damn him for being so tall – and Jimin was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

“Yeah?”

“It was fun, wasn’t it? Flying here in the charter plane with me,” Taehyung said quietly.

Hold on, Jimin wondered, does Taehyung look a little nervous, asking that question? And if so, why? Jimin forcibly pulled himself together and returned Taehyung’s intense gaze. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “It was fun.”

The shy smile that lit up Taehyung’s face sparked a multitude of rosebuds unfurling their petals inside Jimin’s chest.

All because he didn’t have to travel economy class anymore, of course. Nothing more than that.

*****

“C’mon, Guk. Time to fly,” Yeonjun spurred Jeongguk on as he prepared for his hot lap. Carefully winding the car around the final corner, he judiciously applied the throttle until he was at full speed over the start/finish line.

This is better, Jeongguk noted, making sure to remain focused. Turns 10 and 11 flowed smoothly into each other, and he’d just negotiated Turn 12 when an obstacle appeared on the racing line in Turn 13. “Fuck!” he yelled, jerking the steering to avoid the bright red car of Kim Taehyung. “There was a Stallion in my way,” Jeongguk hissed at Yeonjun. Gathering up his shattered concentration, Jeongguk managed to hurl it over the line in P2, two tenths behind his teammate. Damn.

“What the hell was Kim Taehyung doing?” Jeongguk demanded over the radio. “He totally ruined my lap. I’d have been on pole if I didn’t have to avoid him.”

“We’ve spoken to the stewards about it,” Yeonjun informed him gruffly. “Seems pretty cut and dried to me. His time puts him in third, but I reckon he’ll get a ten place grid drop.”

“No less than he deserves,” Jeongguk sneered.

The press conference for the top three drivers had a slightly different flavour that day. Jeongguk and Seokjin were there, as usual. However, rather than Kim Taehyung, they were joined by Christopher Bang. Taehyung, as Yeonjun had predicted, had been slapped with a ten place grid drop and would be starting the race from P13.

That’s one fewer fly in my ointment, Seokjin thought gleefully. He found the situation rather amusing. Something in him was delighted to see Jeongguk seething at somebody else for a change. Mainly, though, he was surprised that Kim Taehyung had allowed something so silly to spoil his weekend. His head isn’t in the game, Seokjin thought. Is this where things start to fall apart for Taehyung?

A small part of Seokjin desperately wanted that to be the case. Another, fairer part, however, wanted to see what Taehyung was capable of if he put in his best effort over the whole season. As long as Seokjin could beat him anyway, wouldn’t that be the ideal situation?

Privately, Seokjin admitted to himself that he was far more scared of Jeon Jeongguk than he was of Kim Taehyung. At least Taehyung was predictable in his unpredictability.

*****

Taehyung’s physical body may have been at the Circuit de Catalunya, but his mind was not. Right now, it was on a secluded beach he knew of just outside Marbella. After this race, they didn’t need to be in Montreal for almost two weeks… Perhaps he could talk Jimin into taking a few days on the Costa del Sol for a ‘training retreat’? But how exactly do you think you’re going to convince him to laze on the beach with you, huh? And what do you imagine you’ll do if it happens? a rational voice spoke up. Taehyung was no fool. He was aware that his relationship with Jimin had progressed past his performance coach barely being able to tolerate him. But honestly, Jimin would probably run a mile if Taehyung suggested what was actually on his mind. But Jimin would look so good lying on the sand in swim shorts, droplets of water catching the sunlight as it dances over his creamy skin, Taehyung’s mind helpfully supplied. Along with the matching image. If he wasn’t careful, he’d drool a little…

“Taehyung?”

Oh shit. Jimin.

“Hi,” Taehyung replied. He hastily rearranged his expression into something neutral, yet was painfully aware that he’d been unable to hide his blush.

“Am I interrupting something?” Jimin asked, raising one eyebrow.

Damn, he has no right to look that good in a team polo and those unflattering red trousers that look terrible on everyone else but manage to make his ass look magical, Taehyung thought. Clearing his throat, he reassured Jimin that no, he was not interrupting anything.

“Ah, good,” Jimin replied shyly. “Uh… I was just thinking… maybe you’d want to do a guided meditation? Especially since you’re starting outside the top ten today, maybe it’ll help-“

“Jimin,” Taehyung stopped his babbling with a warm smile. “I would love that.”

“Oh,” Jimin breathed. “OK. Um, shall we go to your driver room?”

“Lead the way,” Taehyung replied. “But I call first dibs on the couch!”

Jimin’s eyebrows rose. His expression momentarily turned sly, and the next thing Taehyung knew, Jimin was running away from him. “You’ll have to get there before me if you want that,” Jimin teased, darting into the team motorhome and laughing.

If Taehyung decided then and there to let him win, well, nobody had to know.

*****

“It’s lights out and away we go,” the boorish commentator’s voice rang out over televisions worldwide as all twenty cars accelerated off the line. Seokjin’s start had been impeccable, with Jeongguk and Chris Bang having nothing in the bag to challenge him. The first stint settled fairly quickly, with Seokjin comfortably leading and Jeongguk two seconds adrift. Chris Bang soon dropped to five seconds behind Jeongguk, unable to keep up with the Silver Bullets’ ultimate pace.

Kim Taehyung, on the other hand, was tearing up the track. After three laps he’d already managed to make up five places and was now in P8. Just like Jimin told me I could, he thought proudly to himself. Taehyung knew it would be difficult to make up any more positions, given the field spread that would only get wider as the race went on. Still, he was satisfied enough.

“Excellent work, Tae. Keep it up,” Hyungsik affirmed as Taehyung pumped in yet another fastest lap of the race.

It was at the second pit stop that the race really came alive. Jeongguk had just pitted and was putting in the best out lap that he could manage. He had no idea that Seokjin’s front left wheel had been slow coming off and his teammate had been stationary for a full five seconds. Expecting to see Kim Seokjin retake the lead, he was shocked when he passed the pit exit and the sister car didn’t sweep out in front of him. Yeonjun dryly informed Jeongguk that Seokjin had fallen to second place due to pit stop issues, and was now three seconds behind him.

“Shit,” Jeongguk replied giddily. It had dawned on him that this race was now his for the taking. “Where’s Taehyung, out of interest?”

“P6,” Yeonjun told him. “Nothing to worry about for now. Keep your-“

“Yeah, yeah, keep my head down,” Jeongguk teased his engineer.

Lap after lap counted down and Jeongguk remained in the lead. Eight laps from the chequered flag, he noticed Seokjin in his wing mirrors. “The King is getting close,” he remarked to Yeonjun.

“I know, Guk. But Namjoon has told him to keep it clean,” Yeonjun let him know. “So you shouldn’t have any trouble from him.”

I’ll believe that when I see it, Jeongguk thought sharply. Perhaps he was being unfair on Kim Seokjin… but really, did he expect The King to just roll over without putting up a fight?

By the following lap, Seokjin’s Silver Bullet loomed large in Jeongguk’s mirrors. Keep it clean, my ass, Jeongguk thought bitterly as Seokjin attempted to duck down the inside. Jeongguk managed to block him, but only just. Predictably, Namjoon’s voice came over the radio. “Hey, guys, I asked you to keep it clean. That doesn’t look too clean to me.”

Seokjin felt the red mist come down inside his helmet. Known for being cool-headed, he didn’t tend to make rash decisions on track. But today? Fuck that. He was going to show Jeon exactly what The King was made of. Opening the rear wing and catching the slipstream, he accelerated down the long straight, pulling his car just ahead of his teammate. Now if I just flick it to the left I’ll have him, Seokjin thought. He believed he’d got the corner done and swerved to the left as he’d planned.

What he hadn’t foreseen was Jeongguk drawing on everything he had and sticking his nose back in front. Instead of the perfect, clean overtake Seokjin had planned, there was a sickening crunch and both cars were spinning off the track at high speed. The crowd roared in horror as both Silver Bullets smashed into the barrier, a shower of carbon fibre flying everywhere. “Guk, get out of the car, it’s on fire!” Yeonjun yelled through his crackling radio.

Jeongguk didn’t think much after that. All he could do was get himself out of there, watching helplessly as the marshalls used the fire extinguisher on his poor, wrecked car.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Jeongguk whirled around, locking eyes with Kim Seokjin.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he growled, shaking the older man off. “This is your fault! You just can’t stand to be beaten, can you? Well, I’m sorry that I’m faster than you,” Jeongguk screamed. His entire body alive with fury, he stalked off to where a marshall was waiting with a scooter.

“Should we give your teammate a ride too?” the man asked.

“Nah. Let him wait,” Jeongguk drawled.

Seokjin’s body burned with rage as he watched Jeongguk leave the scene. How dare his teammate treat him in such a manner? He’d only been trying to apologise, to take at least part of the blame for the situation. But Jeongguk, that child, had allowed his anger to rule him yet again, and Seokjin was the one to bear the brunt of it.

After the safety car had allowed the remains of two pathetic-looking Silver Bullets to be cleared from the track, Chris Bang was able to sail to a fairly uneventful victory. He was joined on the podium by his teammate Felix Lee, and Vernon Chwe, who had managed to hold off a rampaging Kim Taehyung in fourth. Taehyung had the last laugh, however, taking the fastest lap. Given that neither of the Silver Bullets drivers had finished the race, Taehyung had therefore extended his championship lead by some margin – not a bad effort for a day that had promised so little.

The grin on Jimin’s face when Taehyung got back to the garage was worth all the hard work.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jimin had blurted out, impulsively throwing his arms around Taehyung.

Jimin must have realised what he’d done, as he quickly disentangled himself and took a few steps back. But his instinctive hug, however brief, had Taehyung wondering whether he was quite so alone in his feelings.

*****

It was a truth universally acknowledged in the paddock that the employees of all other teams would have done unspeakable things for the chance to be a fly on the wall at the Silver Bullets’ post-Barcelona race debrief. It would have been worth it, too, given the theatrics with which Kim Namjoon denounced the actions of both his drivers. Jeongguk and Seokjin stared at the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow them instead of the torture they were currently experiencing. When Namjoon had finished, Seokjin briefly thought they might catch a break. But then, Hoseok stood up and he knew that had just been wishful thinking.

“I have completely and utterly had it with the both of you,” Hoseok began, his voice dangerously low and raspy. “Two racing drivers at the top of their game, and both of you behaving like children fighting in a sandpit! ENOUGH!” he bellowed, making Jeongguk flinch.

Seokjin couldn’t help but feel a touch of sympathy for his younger teammate. Hoseok didn’t often go off, but when he did, he was terrifying.

“I have been far too patient,” Hoseok continued, “but you both need to know that ends here. Right here, right now. No longer will I pander to the whims of two petulant little boys. You will listen to me, and you will listen well. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Hoseok,” they both replied in unison. 

“And you, Kim Seokjin! I expected better from a three-time champion. From the very cornerstone this great team has built its reputation on, no less! And here you are, acting like a spoiled toddler!”

Hoseok internally paused, remembering what Namjoon had imparted to him a few days before. He gave Seokjin a beseeching look. “What you don’t realise, Seokjin-ah, is how much we, as a team, need you,” he said, in a much softer tone.

Seokjin looked startled.

“It would help me out so much if you’d just agree to train with Jeongguk,” Hoseok said gently. “I have been working far too many hours and I’m exhausted. If you train together, that cuts down my hours drastically and I will be able to work better for both of you. Heck, maybe you can even help each other out, you might learn something that I can’t personally teach you,” Hoseok offered tentatively. He was unsure what kind of reaction to expect, but it certainly wasn’t for Seokjin to step forward and wrap him in a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Hoba,” Seokjin murmured sorrowfully. “I’ve been far too busy thinking about myself to give anyone else a moment’s thought. A racing driver I may be, but I don’t have to be an asshole about it,” he admitted. Turning around, he met Jeongguk’s eyes. “Are you willing to try working together? I promise I’ll behave,” he added, cringing as he realised how his previous actions had come across.

Jeongguk’s fury faltered a little as he processed Seokjin standing there. Sincerity shone in his eyes, and Jeongguk was filled with something that felt a little like hope. “OK,” he agreed. “I’ll train with you. Shake on it?” Jeongguk held out his hand.

Seokjin grasped it firmly and the deal was made.

*****

“So, tomorrow’s the day? The first joint training session?” Yoongi queried after the post-coital haze had somewhat cleared.

“What? Hmm, yeah,” Hoseok murmured, his eyes still closed. “Don’t remind me,” he groaned.

Yoongi laughed internally. Hoseok was always so dramatic. “So, how did you manage to get them to agree?”

“Oh, it was something Namjoon said when we… uh, when we had a meeting in Barcelona,” Hoseok replied airily, freezing momentarily as he realised how close he’d come to accidentally spilling the beans to the one person he most needed to keep the secret from. “Actually, it was something he told me that you’d said, about Seokjin’s craving to be needed,” he added, hoping that would pique Yoongi’s interest enough for him to leave the rest of it alone.

“Really?” Yoongi rumbled. “I didn’t think Namjoon actually listened to me,” he joked. Nevertheless, he was pleased to know that something he’d said had actually stuck in the team boss’ brain.

Hoseok smiled, encouragingly. “Your wisdom keeps us all afloat, dearest Yoongi,” he teased. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re wasted as a race engineer. You should have been a therapist instead.”

Yoongi’s cheeks blushed a flattering cherry-pink, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. “I don’t know about that,” he mumbled. “I’m just glad I could help.”

Hoseok was just glad he’d stopped himself from running off at the mouth before it was too late. Another lucky escape. How long could he continue relying on those? The beginnings of a headache clutched at his temples, and even Yoongi’s tender hands couldn’t bring him any relief.

*****

Submerged in luxuriously warm, scented water, the room softly lit by candles and gentle music playing, Seokjin’s heart soared as he reacquainted himself with his sanctuary. The responsibilities of the Formula 1 season had meant there had been far less time he could spend here, in his safe place. It was good to be back.

The sharp buzz of his phone pierced through Seokjin’s moment of serenity. He opened one eye and peered at the screen.

Father.

With a tiny smile, Seokjin silenced it and returned to deep relaxation. He hadn’t answered a call or text from his father since the crash in Barcelona, and he didn’t intend to, knowing full well what his father would say. Seokjin didn’t need such a negative influence on his life anymore. Eventually, he would confront his father and explain why he hadn’t been answering his calls but for now, Seokjin was simply availing himself of the freedom it gave him. He knew it couldn’t last forever, but what was wrong with enjoying it for a little while longer?

He would go and meet Hoseok and Jeongguk tomorrow with an open mind and an easy heart. Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks, Seokjin laughed to himself. Kim Seokjin may be in his thirties, but he wasn’t done learning, yet.

*****

Jeongguk turned up a full fifteen minutes early to the training session. He didn’t want to admit it, but Seokjin’s jibe about punctuality had stuck with him. Now, Jeongguk made an effort to be at least ten minutes early for everything, and he’d begun to notice people looking at him with a new kind of respect. Truthfully, Jeongguk wasn’t sure whether it actually had anything to do with being early for things. But it couldn’t hurt, he figured. Today, as he reflected smugly, he was actually the first one to arrive. Hoseok turned up ten minutes prior to their agreed starting time, Seokjin trailing in behind him. Both of them did a double take when they noticed Jeongguk already standing there.

“Good morning,” Jeongguk offered cheerily.

“Morning,” Hoseok yawned. “I hope you two are ready to work?”

“You’re damn right we are,” Seokjin retorted, stripping off his hoodie to reveal a sleeveless muscle tee. A sliver of toned abdomen flashed before Jeongguk’s eyes and he gulped, hard. Quietly, so as not to draw undue attention to himself, he unzipped the jacket of his shell suit and shrugged it off, revealing a white cotton vest which showed off his tattoo sleeve to perfection. Did he imagine it, or did Kim Seokjin’s face flush just a little?

Hoseok’s loud voice stopped such thoughts instantly. “Let’s start with fifteen minutes on the stationary bike. Don’t slack off. Go go go!” Hoseok clapped his hands and both drivers scrambled into action.

Jeongguk knew he was ridiculously fit compared with regular human beings. Still, he found himself sneaking glances at Seokjin and marvelling at the way the older driver appeared to be barely sweating when his legs were clearly working at full capacity. I’ll just try to keep up, that’s all I can do, Jeongguk reassured himself.

When they moved on to weight work, Jeongguk enjoyed a slight advantage. Being naturally stockier than Seokjin, he lifted heavier weights with greater ease than his teammate. Although on the flip side, Jeongguk had to work harder to keep his weight down as combined car and driver weights needed to be ridiculously low in order to maintain the best possible aerodynamics and therefore, speed. Still. He certainly wasn’t complaining about that when he noticed Seokjin eyeing his prowess with barely concealed disbelief. 

After a few more exercises, Hoseok clapped his hands once more. “Right,” he stated. “Neck time. Seokjin, go grab me one of the heavy resistance bands-“

“Just one?” Seokjin queried. “But there are two of us!”

“Just one, please,” Hoseok repeated, rolling his eyes. “Come here, Jeongguk,” he commanded as Seokjin returned with the band. “I’ve developed a new exercise, and it seems that you two are the perfect guinea pigs,” Hoseok grinned sharply. He then looped the band around both their necks where they stood face to face. “Hands on your teammate’s shoulders, please. You will resist against each other,” he explained, a gleeful glint in his eyes. “Not only will it strengthen your necks, it will also strengthen your teamwork.”

Seokjin risked a glance at Jeongguk, recoiling slightly when he noticed the intensity in the younger’s eyes.

“One of you will pull, the other will resist. Hold for ten seconds, then swap,” Hoseok explained. “Ready? Jeongguk, you pull first. Three, two, one…”

Holy shit this guy is strong, Seokjin realised. It was all he could do not to fall over and he was filled with sheer relief when the ten seconds was over.

“Your turn, Seokjin. Ready?”

Seokjin threw everything he had into the exercise, gratified to hear Jeongguk let out a small gasp.

“How does that feel?” Hoseok asked cheekily.

“Awesome!” Jeongguk blurted out.

Seokjin remained silent.

“Any advance on ‘awesome’, Jin?” Hoseok teased.

“Um… no. It’s… good. Really good,” he admitted.

“OK guys, get ready to go again,” Hoseok ordered.

The problem with this exercise was that it was necessary for Jeongguk and Seokjin to stand rather close to each other, and it was difficult to avoid eye contact. Which meant that Jeongguk had to resolutely ignore the confetti bubbling in the pit of his stomach and do his best to keep a straight face.

Not, perhaps, as easy as Jeongguk wished it would be.

After a few more repetitions, Hoseok called a halt to that particular exercise. “Take five, have some water,” he ordered.

Seokjin was the first to step away, un-looping the resistance band from his neck. Wandering over to his workout bag, he pulled out a small towel and wiped his face, neck and chest. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jeongguk, his head thrown back, gulping down a bottle of water. A drop of sweat traced its way down Jeongguk’s neck as the muscles in his throat worked hard, swallowing over and over until the bottle was empty. With a harsh exhale, he crumpled the plastic bottle in his hand and tossed it into the waste basket.

The visceral reaction in Seokjin’s body took him by surprise.

Seokjin didn’t avert his gaze quickly enough to avoid Jeongguk catching him staring. Was that a smirk on his (pretty, pouty) lips? At least Seokjin’s blushes were spared by Hoseok’s disturbingly loud hand claps.

“No more time for slacking off, let’s get back to work!”

Over the next hour and a half, Hoseok subjected his two drivers to an incredibly gruelling training session. He was pleased to note that not only were they achieving the goals he set for them, but they were pushing each other forwards. This is what I’d hoped for, he thought privately. Perhaps there was hope for this teammate relationship after all.

“Good job today,” Seokjin said casually to Jeongguk as he prepared to leave the gym.

Jeongguk startled, his enormous eyes seeming to dominate his face even further. “Oh… thank you. Um, good job to you, too.”

Seokjin smiled, a shy, tentative thing. “See you tomorrow,” he threw over his shoulder.

Jeongguk couldn’t tear his eyes from Seokjin’s graceful figure as he walked away.

I’m screwed, Jeongguk realised abruptly.

*****

Normally, Jimin would have cursed the fact that they had just the one Grand Prix smack bang in the middle of a four week period. He would usually become frustrated with the disruption of travel, especially when he’d just settled into his routine of being back home again. But not this time. Rather than relishing the free time at his disposal, Jimin found himself feeling bored. So when his phone buzzed, Jimin immediately grabbed it.

Jung Hoseok (15.07):

Jiminie! It’s been ages since we had a proper catch-up.

You free for dinner tonight?

Jimin’s heart momentarily sank. Hoseok wasn’t the person he’d been hoping to receive a text from, if he was honest with himself… You only saw Taehyung this morning, Jimin sharply reminded himself. What reason could he possibly have to text you already? Shaking himself out of his torpor, Jimin urged himself to feel genuine happiness at hearing from his friend.

Park Jimin (15.08):

Absolutely!

 Do you wanna meet up at our usual?

7pm?

Jung Hoseok (15.09):

Can’t wait.

Oh boy, do I have some gossip…

Jimin couldn’t help but feel a little blip of excitement, knowing that Hoseok had some juicy morsels to share with him.

*****

Taehyung growled in frustration, shoving his phone firmly underneath one of the countless pillows on his ridiculously enormous bed. It was all well and good living in a huge house with discreet staff at his beck and call whenever he needed anything. But none of that accounted for the fact that Taehyung hated living alone, hated feeling lonely once he’d done what he needed to do on any given day. Nor did it change the fact that Taehyung was missing one person in particular. And yet, he was desperately trying to stop himself from texting that person.

Just a quick hello can’t hurt, he thought. “No,” he said sharply. “You just saw him this morning, he’ll think you’re crazy if you do that.”

The pillow didn’t seem like enough to stop Taehyung from grabbing the phone and doing it anyway. So instead, he shoved the phone in his bedside drawer, dragging an armchair across the room to keep it firmly closed.

“That’s better,” he said, not feeling any better at all.

*****

“Jimiiiiiiiiiiiiin, my bro!” Hoseok greeted him warmly, opening his arms for a hug the moment Jimin walked into the bar where they always had their catch-ups.

“Hobi-hyung! So good to see you,” Jimin murmured. Returning the hug with equal warmth, he felt the worries of his day melt away. Despite the natural competitiveness between the two, which had existed since they were at university together, Hoseok’s presence had always had a calming effect on Jimin.

“Beer?” Hoseok asked, tilting his glass.

“Yes please,” Jimin answered eagerly.

Hoseok signalled a staff member to bring another one over.

“So,” Jimin teased, raising his eyebrows as he took a large sip of his beer. “What’s this exciting gossip you were so desperate to tell me about?”

Hoseok’s eyes gleamed. Leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner, he whispered, “I finally got Seokjin and Jeongguk to work together. We’ve been having joint training sessions this week,” he confided.

Jimin’s jaw dropped. The entire paddock had been painfully aware of the tension between the Silver Bullets pairing, and much had been spoken about it in the other team motorhomes as they gossiped over their coffee breaks. But talking to Hoseok directly gave Jimin unfiltered access to the facts. “Hyung, how did you manage that?”

Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “I wish I could take credit for it. But it was actually something Yoongi said to Namjoon, that Namjoon passed on to me, that really made it happen,” he admitted.

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “Oh?” he queried, regarding Hoseok with a knowing smile. “Don’t think I’m going to let you off the hook about that,” he declared. Jimin was the only one who was privy to the details of Hoseok’s love life, with the exception of Hoseok himself. “But first, please continue.”

Launching into the story, Hoseok’s animated chatter surrounded Jimin with warmth and sheer joy. As the wild tale progressed, Jimin found himself hanging on to every word.

“…and I actually got them to work on a two-person neck exercise that I invented solely to see if I could make them do it,” Hoseok finished, bursting into laughter. “I mean, it was a great workout too, but seeing the two of them standing so close and relying on each other to keep upright was a special kind of funny to me,” he admitted.

Jimin let out a squawk, abruptly covering his mouth. “I’d love to have seen their faces,” he admitted, shaking his head at Hoseok’s audacity. “So they’re behaving themselves, then?”

“Surprisingly well,” Hoseok affirmed. “Almost too well, in fact. I’m wondering if this is going to implode, somehow.”

Pushing his lips out into a pout, Jimin idly tapped a finger on them. “Let’s hope not. Although it would make for some extra tasty tea,” he admitted cheekily.

“Look, Jiminie,” Hoseok said urgently. “I know I’m holding out on you with the other thing. I will tell you. But I need to know this first. What is going on between you and Kim Taehyung?”

Jimin’s cheeks turned the colour of the ripest raspberries. “What on earth are you talking about, hyung? We work together, that’s all,” he mumbled, looking away.

Hoseok eyed Jimin with suspicion. “Don’t think I haven’t heard about the new clause in your contract, Jimin. The entire paddock has been whispering about it. Seems convenient that Taehyung’s no longer with his girlfriend, hmm?”

“Hey, Domi broke his heart!” Jimin protested. “Taehyung told me so himself.”

Hoseok looked sceptical. “I don’t know, Jimin. He doesn’t seem that heartbroken to me. What exactly did he say?”

Thinking back, Jimin tried to remember the exact words Taehyung had used.  “Ummm. I asked him how his heart was doing, and he said that it hurt. That it sucks when the other person doesn’t feel the same way.”

With gleaming eyes, Hoseok asked, “And did he mention Domi’s name at any point in this conversation?”

“No, but-“

“Ah,” Hoseok laughed. “Just as I thought.”

“What?” Jimin parried, suddenly needing to know exactly what Hoseok was driving at.

Gently, Hoseok placed a hand on top of Jimin’s. “Now I’m going to say this only once, so listen carefully, OK?”

Though his eyes showed his confusion, Jimin nodded.

“I’d have to be both blind and deaf to have missed the talk that’s been flying around the paddock about you two. Specifically, about the way Taehyung looks at you. The way he automatically orients himself to wherever you are. Heck, he wouldn’t go to Barcelona until you asked him to go, am I right?”

“Yeah, but he just needed-“

“He needed you, Jimin. Not whatever psychological wizardry you use to get him to perform at his best. Just you. And I believe it was you he was talking about when he said that it sucks when the other person doesn’t feel the same way.”

Jimin blinked. “What on earth do you-“

“Look, I hope I’m not overstepping here, but I’m a firm believer that Kim Taehyung is in love with you and he’s only just realised it himself,” Hoseok blurted out.

Jimin’s jaw dropped. Hoseok was wrong, he had to be… Kim Taehyung couldn’t possibly be in love with him. It just wasn’t a thing that was possible. And why not? a tiny, feeble inner voice asked, sowing the tiniest seeds of hope in Jimin’s heart.

“No way,” he breathed, shaking his head so hard he momentarily worried he’d give himself an injury. “He’s not in love with me. We have a strictly professional relationship.”

With a sly smile, Hoseok drawled, “Yeah. Isn’t it funny, though, that none of the other drivers insist that their performance coach travels with them on private planes? Just wait, he’ll find a way to engineer it so that the two of you are travelling alone together at some point in the next few races. It will be perfectly convenient, of course.”

“Whatever, hyung,” Jimin mumbled, refusing to meet Hoseok’s eyes. “Now tell me about the latest developments in your sordid love triangle. I’ve been waiting.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes and proceeded to bring Jimin up to speed. For the next few hours, Jimin was regaled with far too many details of Hoseok’s messy love life, interspersed with more beers and plenty of food. By the time they decided to call it a night, Jimin was drowsy and very full. As he walked Hoseok out to his taxi, Jimin’s phone bleeped with an incoming message. Hoseok turned and raised his eyebrows.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he teased. “Well, come on, put me out of my misery!”

Jimin rolled his eyes and retrieved his phone, determined to prove Hoseok wrong.

Oh.

It was him.

Kim Taehyung (22.34):

I hope you rest well tonight, Jimin.

I’ll see you tomorrow. 🌹

“Ohooooooooooooo!” Hoseok crowed, nudging Jimin with his shoulder. “Tell me I was right. Look me in the eyes and tell me I was right, come on Jimin!”

Rolling his eyes, Jimin mumbled something inaudible. Thankfully, he was saved by the arrival of Hoseok’s cab.

The  fluttering in his stomach, however, didn’t go away until much later.

*****

Taehyung yelled in frustration after he’d hit the send button. As it turned out, putting his phone in a drawer with a piece of furniture lodged against it wasn’t enough to stop him from texting Jimin. And what’s more, he’d used the damned rosebud emoji again. It was as though his fingers had a mind of their own, for goodness’ sake! Taehyung prepared himself for no reply. He’d be seeing Jimin tomorrow, he’d talk to him then. Hopefully he wouldn’t say anything too stupid. Burying his head under one of his many pillows, he let out a pained groan and decided to try and get some sleep.

Just as he was about to drift off, his phone buzzed. Immediately, Taehyung was wide awake, sitting upright and swiftly unlocking his device.

Park Jimin (23.14):

Thanks, Taehyung.

I just got home after having a crazy evening with Jung Hoseok.

I’ll need to recover from that!

I hope you sleep well, too, and I’ll see you tomorrow. 🐻

In all the years of his life up to that point, Kim Taehyung had never felt the need to hug a phone, nor had he ever understood why anyone would want to. And yet, he clutched the small device to his chest in a desperate manner as his face split into a grin that was almost painfully wide.

All this because of Park Jimin.

*****

Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Montreal, Canada

Namjoon watched in barely-concealed disbelief as his drivers greeted each other with a high-five before going their separate ways. It seemed that Hoseok had finally managed to get them to work together, and not only that, they were actually on speaking terms. A frisson stirred in his gut as he thought of Hoseok’s magnetic powers of persuasion… Not that he’d be using those on anyone else but him. At least, not as far as Namjoon was aware.

As the straps between Seokjin’s legs were buckled in preparation for qualifying, he pushed aside the usual discomfort. Only to find himself thinking that he potentially wouldn’t mind so much if it was Jeon Jeongguk reaching in between his legs… What the fuck?! Seokjin shook himself mentally. Firstly, that was his teammate. Secondly, he was about to start qualifying and it was no time for such thoughts. Thirdly, that was his teammate.

You are not doing this, Seokjin told himself firmly. Absolutely not.

Clearly, Seokjin managed to banish all inappropriate thoughts as just over an hour later, he was celebrating pole position. Jeongguk had managed to join him on the front row. Again, however, there was no Kim Taehyung in the top three drivers’ press conference. Instead, his usual place was taken by a grinning Vernon Chwe.

Jeongguk had done a double-take when Yeonjun had informed him that the red flags in the second qualifying session had been brought out by Kim Taehyung. As he cruised past the scene of the accident, he saw Taehyung walking away – thank goodness – but cringed at the state of his Stallion, crumpled and scratched, stuck fast into the barrier. “That’s gonna take a lot of work if he wants to start the race tomorrow,” he exhaled, shaking his head. Although Jeongguk knew that this was better for his own championship, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Taehyung. Nobody liked to see that.

Well aware that he’d fucked up, Taehyung was quiet and contrite upon his return to the garage. His first action was to apologise to the mechanics for the long night ahead of them, and then to the team for causing such drama and extra expense. Having been checked over at the medical centre, he was passed fit and told to rest up in preparation for the race. For once, Taehyung actually wanted to be alone. So without another word, he slunk off to his hotel and settled in for the night.

Montreal always brought the goods whenever the Formula 1 circus rumbled into town, and this time was no exception. Due to the fact that the Stallions mechanics had to break curfew to ensure his car would be able to start the race at all, Taehyung had been handed a pit lane start. Meaning he’d have to watch as all the other cars streaked past him before he could even get going. If he was lucky, he’d catch the back of the pack on the first lap and be able to make up a few positions. As he waited impatiently at the pit exit, he replayed the visualisation Jimin had taken him through that very morning. I’m going to catch them, and I’m going to pass them, he chanted in his mind like a mantra.

Drawing on his full inner strength, Taehyung honed his focus to the sharpest point. In the first eighteen laps, Taehyung had gained nine positions, bringing him up to P11. Super close to the points already. Yet such aggressive driving had almost shredded his tyres.

“Hyungsikkie, I gotta come in, my tyres are dead,” Taehyung sighed over the radio.

“OK Tae. Box, box.”

As he sailed into the pit lane, dropping his speed drastically, Taehyung reflected that the team had done a superb job fixing his car. The ride was butter-smooth, the steering perfectly responsive. As he was stationary in his pit box, Taehyung watched carefully, waiting for the signal that he was good to go. The moment the lollipop went up, Taehyung’s foot was on the throttle. It took him a moment to realise that he wasn’t going anywhere. The engine coughed, spluttered, and died.

“What the fuck?” he breathed, knowing deep in his heart that it was all over.

“Power unit failure, Tae. I’m so sorry,” Hyungsik informed him. “We’re going to have to retire the car.”

“Damn it!” Taehyung hissed, half-heartedly thumping his steering wheel as the pit crew wheeled him back into the garage. The moment he was unbuckled, he pushed himself out of the car and went directly to his driver room. Taehyung’s instinctive response in situations like this was usually to go out drinking, find someone to spend the night with, and forget.

Today, however, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do that. He pulled out his phone. Instead of bringing up the maps app and searching for the hottest bars in downtown Montreal, he selected his messaging app instead. Before he could think too much about it, he typed:

Kim Taehyung (15.04):

Wanna hang out and watch a movie tonight, say 7pm?

 We can order food as well.

I’d normally go out, but I’m really not in the mood.😞

Watching the race with the rest of the team, Jimin felt his phone buzz and scrambled to check it. When he realised it was Taehyung, an involuntary blush crept up his neck, which only intensified when he actually read the message.

“Oooooh, what’s got Jimin smiling like that?” one of the engineering team asked him. “Has our boy got a secret admirer?”

“No,” Jimin squawked in protest. “Mind your own business, anyway,” he grumbled. Feeling somewhat light-headed, Jimin got to his feet and dashed outside where he could respond to his message with some semblance of privacy. Taehyung wanted to hang out! Tonight! “Aaaaargh,” Jimin screamed into his fist, drawing odd looks from people who just happened to be passing by him at that moment in time.

Internally panicking, Jimin’s fingers scrambled over the touchscreen.

Park Jimin (15.07):

Sounds good to me.

Your room or mine?

After the message had been sent, Jimin blanched. Cursing himself at the language he’d used, he wondered whether he’d been too forward. Taehyung just wanted to watch a movie and cheer himself up and Jimin had made it sound like… something else. But then his phone buzzed again, and Jimin was too curious to fixate on that any longer.

Kim Taehyung (15.09):

Mine. For the simple reason that it’s bound to be nicer 😉

Jimin scoffed. Typical entitled driver behaviour. Still, he replied.

Park Jimin (15.10):

Of course, I should have known.

Before talking himself out of it, Jimin added:

It’ll be even nicer with me in it.

Jimin shoved his phone back into his pocket and plunged his face into his hands. Why, oh why had he said such a thing? Was he… flirting with Taehyung? Had what Hoseok said gone to his head? Just as he was about to head back inside, his phone buzzed once more.

Kim Taehyung (15.11):

Everything is nicer with you in it. 🌹

Jimin was in very real danger of melting into a puddle of Jimin-shaped goo right where he stood. Maybe, just maybe, Hoseok had been on to something.

*****

Meanwhile, the other nineteen drivers still had a race to finish. Once Taehyung’s car had been cleared away, Kim Seokjin nailed the safety car restart and soared into an unassailable lead over Jeon Jeongguk and, five seconds behind him, Vernon Chwe. There was no danger of any repeat of the Barcelona shenanigans as Jeongguk simply didn’t have the pace to run with Seokjin today. Namjoon, back in the motorhome, slumped in relief as he realised that. Still, he wasn’t able to fully relax until both drivers had come over the finish line. Seokjin with the grand slam – pole position, race win and fastest lap – and Jeongguk in a very respectable second place. After the podium celebration, the drivers returned to the motorhome and it was time for another team celebration. This time, both Seokjin and Jeongguk stayed until the bitter end. Namjoon indulged in a small smile of satisfaction as he watched them clink their glasses together and grin at each other in congratulations.

*****

Nervously fiddling with the too-long sleeve of his hoodie, Jimin steadied himself before pressing the doorbell of Taehyung’s hotel suite. The door swung open almost immediately. Had Taehyung been waiting right beside it?

“Jimin, hi! Come in, come in,” Taehyung greeted him affably.

The first thing Jimin noticed was the many pillows Taehyung had arranged on the sofa, along with some very soft-looking blankets.

“I like to have a lot of pillows,” Taehyung admitted sheepishly as he followed Jimin’s gaze. “Life is nicer when things are a little softer,” he confided.

This gentler side Taehyung was exhibiting of late had Jimin’s heart in a chokehold. “Soft is good,” he replied for want of anything better to say.

“Oh, here you go,” Taehyung said, handing over his phone. “I’ve got the local food app up. Do you wanna scroll through and order what you want to eat? My treat, of course.”

Jimin’s stomach lurched, and it was only partly due to being hungry. How dare Kim Taehyung be this adorable?

“Oh, I’m being rude,” Taehyung murmured. “Please, Jimin, sit down. Do you want a beer? Or some wine, soft drink, tea?”

“Beer would be nice,” Jimin replied, perching lightly on the edge of the sofa and beginning to scroll through Taehyung’s phone. By the time Taehyung returned with a beer for Jimin and a glass of red wine for himself, Jimin had scooted back and tucked his legs up beside him. There was a local Thai place that looked particularly promising, and when Taehyung sat down, Jimin handed the phone back to him. “Those are my choices. Now you should add a few things you like,” he suggested.

Taehyung’s brow furrowed and he began chewing on his lip. “Hmm. I do love a Massaman,” he murmured. “Nothing too spicy for me, unlike you, mister Jungle Curry!” he teased, gently elbowing Jimin. “And let’s get some Chicken Satay for the decent helping of protein,” he added teasingly, giving Jimin a wink. “Gotta keep my strength up!”

By the time the food had arrived, Jimin was on his second beer and feeling extremely relaxed. Taehyung was just so easy to be with when he was like this, Jimin reflected. Not a hard edge in sight. Just softness, laughter, and light. It would be very easy to fall in love with this man, Jimin found himself thinking as he listened to Taehyung tell a story, watching his eyes grow larger and larger until they threatened to burst right out of his face.

The sweetness of the moment was shattered by the harsh ringing of the doorbell.

“Food’s here,” Taehyung declared, jumping up to get it. “Jimin, could you go into the kitchen and grab the pile of plates and cutlery I’ve left out?”

Grateful for something to do, Jimin did as he was asked.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of drinks, good food, and even better company. Jimin couldn’t remember much about the first movie they chose, due to the simple fact that neither of them could stay silent for more than a couple of minutes before breaking into conversation again. Honestly, Jimin couldn’t remember a time when he’d laughed so much, felt so comfortable in the company of another person. Though he’d known Taehyung for a few years, it had never felt like this.

When the credits rolled at the end of the first movie, Taehyung glanced sidelong at Jimin. “Do you wanna pick the next movie? Maybe we’ll actually watch it this time,” he grinned. “I mean, that is… if you want to stay for another one?”

The idea of leaving the cocoon they’d created landed harshly on Jimin. “Yeah, I want to stay,” he blurted out, louder than he’d meant to.

Taehyung beamed him a surprised smile. “Great,” he murmured gently. “Um, by the way, this is also a sofabed – if you want, I can set it up and then you can just sleep here instead of dragging yourself back to your own room,” he said nervously.

Oh, Jimin thought. That’s a tempting offer. “Uh, OK? I mean, as long as you’re fine with that-“

“You say that as if I want you to leave,” Taehyung cut him off, a flash of something heartfelt and intense in his deep mahogany eyes. “I meant what I said to Seojoon, Jimin. I’m at my best when you’re around.”

Jimin’s internal monologue was nothing but static. Which only intensified when Taehyung signalled for him to get up so that he could flip out the sofabed. As Jimin watched, Taehyung arranged the pillows in a large mound, flopping down on to it with a happy sigh. “You can get comfy now, Jimin,” he teased, patting the bed beside him. “Don’t be shy.”

Tentatively, Jimin climbed on to the sofabed, situating himself beside Taehyung. Not too far away, but not too close, either. Taehyung’s skin was near enough to his own for Jimin to feel the warmth emanating from it. Which was quite enough for his sanity, thank you very much. The pair fell silent, to the point that it seemed like they were actually paying attention to this movie. About halfway through, however, Jimin noticed that Taehyung’s eyes had fallen closed and his head was drooping alarmingly. Should I move him? Jimin wondered. In the very next moment, Taehyung’s head flopped to the side, finding a resting place on Jimin’s shoulder. Gasping involuntarily, Jimin immediately worried that he’d woken Taehyung. But no. Taehyung’s face was serene and untroubled and Jimin simply didn’t have the heart to disturb him. He’s had a rough weekend, Jimin thought to himself. Let the man sleep. Inevitably, Taehyung’s warmth and the gentle tickle of his soft hair lulled Jimin to sleep, too.

*****

Hoseok felt his life flashing before his eyes as Yoongi cornered him at the Silver Bullets’ team celebration. Eyes darting left and right, he was satisfied that Namjoon wasn’t anywhere nearby.

“Hoba,” Yoongi purred, “I miss you. Wanna hang out later?”

Desire shot through Hoseok as Yoongi placed a firm hand on his arm, followed swiftly by panic that they were going to be caught out. “Uh. Yeah, sure, Yoongi,” he replied shiftily. “Text me later, OK?”

Hoseok was too busy worrying about being seen to notice the confusion in Yoongi’s eyes before he walked away.

*****

When Jeongguk returned to his hotel room that night, a fire burned in the pit of his stomach that he could no longer ignore. Stripping off his clothes, he hurled himself into the shower, groaning as the hot water soothed his aching muscles. There was another, deeper ache, however, that wasn’t being soothed. And Jeongguk knew there was only one way to reliably get rid of it. Eyes darting to the floor, Jeongguk was relieved to notice that he’d left his bottle of lube there in expectation that he might feel this way after the race. Adrenaline did bizarre things to the body, and Jeongguk was no stranger to it. Idly, he trailed a hand down his body, gently rubbing over his thickening cock as he bent down to retrieve the bottle. A few minutes later he was gasping as he worked two fingers inside himself while his other hand frantically fisted his cock. Jeongguk was trying to fuck back on his fingers and rock into his other hand without losing balance, and it wasn’t an easy feat. And then, he was wondering whether Kim Seokjin pleasured himself in such a way, imagining in great detail what it would look like. Oh yes, Seokjin would look beautiful impaled on his own fingers, bucking his hips, lips glistening as he panted and pleaded for pleasure to overtake him… Before Jeongguk realised where his mind was taking him, the exquisite pressure on his prostate became too much to bear and with a shout, he was coming all over the tiles. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he uttered long and low, as his orgasm ebbed away.

The moment the last waves of pleasure had left his body, Jeongguk was subsumed by shame. While it hadn’t been his intent, the fact remained that he had just made himself come while thinking of his teammate. How was he going to look Seokjin in the eye during their next training session? Or, indeed, ever again?

*****

Oof, it’s warm in here. Did I forget to turn the heating down? Taehyung thought before he opened his eyes on Monday morning. But wait… what was that?… Shit. His eyes flew open and he realised that instead of taking himself to his own bed, as he should have done, he’d fallen asleep on the sofabed with Jimin. And not just with Jimin. Smooshed up right next to him. No wonder he was warm! Somehow, in his sleep, Jimin had wriggled around and when Taehyung managed to focus his vision, he realised he was at eye level with Jimin’s perfect rosebud lips. Oh God, he pleaded with himself, please don’t let my body do anything stupid- The moment those thoughts popped into Taehyung’s mind he felt it. The telltale tightening of the fabric in the crotch of his sweatpants. Panicking, he tried to wriggle away from Jimin without waking him up but as he moved, Jimin pouted, frowned and reached out to pull him closer. Torn between the urge to snuggle in and the urge to disappear in a puff of smoke, Taehyung tried to lay as still as possible. With the aid of some very unsexy thoughts, his predicament eventually died down, much to his relief. Keeping his muscles in such a stiff position couldn’t last forever, though, and he couldn’t stop his leg from twitching. Jimin’s eyes blinked open, and for a precious moment Taehyung saw a mixture of surprise and contentment in his eyes. A split second later, though, Jimin was sitting upright and rubbing his eyes vigorously.

“Um, Taehyung, hi…” Jimin rumbled softly, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

“Hi, Jimin. Look, I’m really sorry, I guess I was tired, I must have fallen asleep - ”

“It’s fine,” Jimin cut him off. “Really, it’s fine. Uh, did you sleep OK?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung admitted, privately thinking that he’d rarely slept so well in his entire life. “I can heat up some of last night’s leftovers for breakfast, if you’re hungry?”

The growl Jimin’s stomach let out at those words had both of them falling back on to the pillows with laughter. Boldly, Taehyung rolled over to face Jimin, internally thrilling when Jimin mirrored him. “Hey, I just wanted to say that last night was…” Taehyung faltered a little, his courage flaring again when he noticed the earnest glint in Jimin’s eyes. “Last night was really special, Jimin, Thank you for spending that time with me,” he finished shyly, blushing as they made eye contact.

“Yeah it was special for me too, Tae. Thank you for inviting me,” Jimin murmured, a soft smile playing across his lips.

Lying here like this, face to face, Jimin was closer than he’d ever been. It wouldn’t even take much of a movement for their lips to touch. Would it be crazy for him to give in to temptation? Only with consent, of course. Trembling in anticipation, Taehyung had formed the words 'Can I kiss you?' on his tongue, but before they made it out of his mouth, Jimin had jumped out of bed and was striding into the kitchen.

“I’ll heat up the leftovers,” he called over his shoulder, leaving Taehyung confused and highly frustrated.

*****

Back in Seoul, Hoseok was becoming increasingly stressed as he attempted to keep Namjoon and Yoongi from finding out about each other. This had the unfortunate effect of making him gruff with both of them, with the result that the next time Hoseok was in need of company, both flat-out rejected him. Yoongi went so far as to tell Hoseok he needn’t call again until he’d had an attitude adjustment. Unsurprisingly, Hoseok’s temper was short. Seokjin and Jeongguk, who both saw him almost every day, were the ones to bear the brunt of it.

It was with some relief that Hoseok boarded the plane to Austria, glad to have the pressures of a race weekend to distract him from his own dumpster fire of a personal life. Idly, he scrolled through his messages until he found his conversation with Jimin. Tapping away quickly, he sent:

Jung Hoseok (10.02):

I require an update on the Jimin  and Taehyung situation.

Park Jimin (10.03):

Um. What situation, hyung?

Jung Hoseok (10.03):

Please tell me you’ve sealed the deal with that gorgeous hunk of racing driver, Jimin

I need something happy to keep me going.

Park Jimin (10.04):

First of all, no

Second of all, you think he’s gorgeous?

Hoseok rolled his eyes. Anyone with eyes could see that Kim Taehyung was as fine a specimen of manhood as there was anywhere in existence.

Jung Hoseok (10.05):

Whatever, Jimin.

Just admit you’re whipped for him and go.

A few minutes passed and Hoseok figured that he’d lost Jimin for the time being. Then, three dots appeared on his screen.

Park Jimin (10.11):

Well…

I’m starting to wonder if you might have been right.

“Ohhhhh,” Hoseok uttered quietly, his eyes lighting up. Now this was interesting.

Park Jimin (10.13):

Taehyung has been very… soft with me, lately.

We hung out after the last GP because he was sad and wanted company.

It got late and we fell asleep next to each other on the sofabed in his suite.

When I woke up the next morning he was right there, hyung.

And I almost leaned in and kissed him

But I stopped myself before I could do anything that foolish

Now I can’t even look him in the eyes.

Hoseok’s heart squeezed for his friend. Privately, he wished his own love life could be that simple… to only have feelings for one person would be refreshing. It seemed Jimin was ready to admit that he had them, at least.

Jung Hoseok (10.15):

Oh, Jiminie 😞

Why did you stop yourself?

Next time, don’t.

Unsurprisingly, Hoseok didn’t hear from Jimin again that day.

*****

Red Bull Ring, Spielberg, Austria

The moment Kim Seokjin strode into the circuit, it was clear to all onlookers that he meant business. Aside from the fact that Jeongguk was behaving weirdly, he felt great. But his teammate’s attitude was strange, to say the least. Seokjin had thought they’d worked through the dramatics of the start of the season and reached some sort of understanding. And now, for some reason, Jeongguk wouldn’t even look at him. Seokjin had tried starting conversations during training, even asking Jeongguk if he wanted to join him for lunch or coffee after their sessions. His teammate, however, had looked at Seokjin like a frightened rabbit and stammered his apologies. All this had the effect of leaving Seokjin wondering what on earth he’d done. Although he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he felt rather sad about this latest development, hoping that things would thaw between them rather quickly.

It was after qualifying that Namjoon collared Seokjin and asked him to come to his office. Seokjin had put it on pole, with Jeongguk second and Kim Taehyung a distant third. Namjoon, however, wanted Seokjin’s perspective on his teammate’s attitude.

“Jin, I’m sorry to do this to you, but I have to ask. Has anything changed between you and Jeongguk lately? I mean, since you called a truce, that is?”

Seokjin thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nothing, at least not from my side. I’m treating him exactly the same way as I was before. He’s being very weird, though. Won’t look at me, won’t grab coffee or food with me after training… it’s like the old days but without the nastiness,” Seokjin concluded, shrugging his shoulders.

“Hmm,” Namjoon uttered. “Very odd. Well, if you figure out anything, be sure to tell me, OK?”

“Sure, Joon,” Seokjin said casually as he left the office. He supposed he’d probably find out what it was eventually. For now, he had a race weekend to finish.

*****

Standing in second place on the podium, with Kim Seokjin in first and Kim Taehyung in third, Jeongguk should have felt comfortable. Indeed, standing on a Formula 1 podium had become his happy place, his home away from home. But this time, he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. Since Montreal, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Kim Seokjin. It wasn’t just when he was pleasuring himself, oh no. It wasn’t even just when he was awake. Jeongguk had lost count of the number of times he’d woken in a sweat, on the edge of release after dreams of Seokjin in various states of undress had filled his unconscious mind. He was hardly able to exist in the same space as his teammate without getting hard, anymore. That’s when Jeongguk knew that all of this had to stop.

Somehow, he’d managed to focus enough on his race weekend to end up second. At least his performance wasn’t being affected too badly. He’d just have to hold on until after the next race at Silverstone. They had a three-week break after that. Jeongguk would go and visit his mother. Maybe take her on a nice holiday somewhere… And definitely speak to a discreet therapist.

*****

Silverstone Circuit, Towcester, United Kingdom

While Monaco may be the ‘jewel in the crown’, Silverstone was more like the gold the crown had been painstakingly crafted from. With its rich history allied with sweeping turns and edge-of-the-seat overtaking opportunities, it was everything that Monaco wished it could be. Every driver wanted the prestige of winning at Monaco – but even more so, they craved the thrill, the visceral achievement of crossing the line first at Silverstone. With the MacPherson and Wilkins team factories just a few miles down the motorway, and the Silver Bullets basing a lot of their operational capacity nearby, this was a ‘home race’ for so many. The grandstands were full from the first practice session, whatever the weather – and being England, it was never predictable. Heatwave, pouring rain, thunderstorms, or cloudy and chill, it didn’t matter. The crowd turned out in their hundreds of thousands. Every single seat was filled, every possible standing place crammed with spectators clamouring to get the best view. Each and every driver felt like a king amongst men as he strode into the spiritual home of motorsport. Underlying the excitement was the grim knowledge that this track was notorious for sorting the men from the boys.

During his usual leisurely track walk, Seokjin took in each corner with hushed respect. While this track wasn’t as obviously dangerous as some of the others, it was tricky, and would catch you out the moment you dared to lose concentration. His first spectacular crash had happened here, in his first season at Wilkins. The mortification of crashing at his team’s home race still crushed him today, Even though the crowd had been sympathetic, cheering roundly when they saw Seokjin walk away from the wreckage unhurt, the poisoned dart had lodged deep in his soul that day. He’d never treated Silverstone with anything but the deepest respect ever since. Two wins on British soil had followed. Although Seokjin was not the most recent winner of the British Grand Prix.

That honour belonged to Kim Taehyung. Last year, he’d taken what many considered a career-defining victory around this hallowed tarmac, catapulting himself back into contention for the championship. However, as had happened several times before, Taehyung’s challenge petered out and by the tail end of the season, Kim Seokjin won the championship with three races still to go. With Kim Seokjin having retaken the championship lead after Taehyung’s DNF in Montreal, Taehyung was determined to show that his title challenge was nowhere near over. Though his task was made that much more difficult by the presence of Jeon Jeongguk. The rookie was proving to be a solid competitor, reliable in ways most newbies were not. The press made much of the fact that it would be his first time in a Formula 1 car at Silverstone. Many of them speculated that Jeongguk would meet his downfall here.

Jeongguk was determined to prove them wrong.

Soobin Choi would be driving Seokjin’s car in the first free practice session. As Kai Huening would be driving Taehyung’s. Many of the teams relished the chance to give their reserve drivers an opportunity to test the car around this particular circuit. Serving as a benchmark, it highlighted for the teams and drivers exactly where they were at in terms of their development alongside the team’s main drivers. Sometimes, indeed, surprises could be sprung.

When Soobin topped the timesheets in Free Practice 1, that was the first surprise. Jeongguk was so delighted for his friend that he had no space to be annoyed with himself.

“Soob, oh my god!” he cried, running over to hug his friend the moment they were both back in the garage. “What the hell are they feeding you?”

Soobin laughed, his gentle demeanour unchanging. “I think it was just the excitement of being here, you know? Silverstone. It’s magic,” he said shyly.

The second surprise was that Felix Lee managed to qualify ahead of Kim Seokjin, putting his car in third place. Jeongguk claimed a peerless pole position, joined on the front row by Kim Taehyung. But Seokjin had not improved on his final hot lap, and Felix in his MacPherson put in a better time at the very last moment.

It was a long, lonely walk back to the garage for Seokjin, without the top three drivers’ press conference to attend. Namjoon gave him an awkward pat on the back but didn’t say much. Seokjin realised that was probably for the best. While Jeongguk was otherwise occupied, Seokjin collared Hoseok and they worked on some affirmations to get his head in the right place for Sunday.

“Jin, you haven’t lost yet, so don’t act like you have. Tomorrow is a long race. As you well know, anything can happen around here.”

Seokjin knew that to be true. So why couldn’t he believe it? To add to his misery, Jeongguk still wasn’t talking to him. He’d thought they were on the right track, so what had gone so wrong?

As he headed back to the Stallions motorhome post-press-conference, restlessness thrummed underneath Taehyung’s skin. Usually he’d ask for Jimin’s assistance in ridding himself of that feeling, with the help of a guided meditation or something else in Jimin’s never-ending bag of tricks. But Jimin had been acting strangely ever since Montreal. Sure, they’d still seen each other a few times a week for training. He was still replying to Taehyung’s texts. And yet, Taehyung sensed there was a barrier between them that hadn’t existed before their movie night. Had Taehyung’s behaviour ventured too far over the line of what could be deemed professional? Probably, he admitted to himself. But the fact that it seemed to be a problem for Jimin lodged painfully in the space between Taehyung’s ribs. I guess he doesn’t feel the same way I do, Taehyung acknowledged, swallowing down on his discomfort. Ignoring the gnawing ache in his chest, Taehyung resolved to put it behind him and do the best he possibly could in the race tomorrow. I am not entitled to everything I want. I need to remember that, he reminded himself firmly. Although, in truth, he’d never wanted anything quite as much as this.

*****

A harsh, biting wind whipped through the grandstands as the drivers formed up on the grid for the British Grand Prix. Banks of low, heavy-looking thunderclouds gathered in the distance and yet the sun blazed brightly over the track. For the time being, at least. All 20 drivers had opted for slick tyres – some starting on the softs, others the mediums. If the rain did come, it would make for an interesting scramble to the pit lane. The way they reacted to the conditions would have a major impact on the outcome of the race. Although all teams followed the radar closely, even they couldn’t be totally sure what the weather was going to do.

“Ah, England, a land of many contrasts,” Namjoon murmured, shaking his head in fond disbelief.

Five red lights went on, and the sound of revving V6 turbos soared into the air. The roar of the cars flying off the line was near-deafening in its visceral nature. The top four cars scrambled for precedence as they dashed toward Abbey corner, swooping around Farm Curve and Village as the crowd roared their appreciation.

Jeongguk held his nerve, despite fierce opposition from Kim Taehyung, Felix Lee and Kim Seokjin. He was just beginning to eke out a lead when the Safety Car indicator began to flash on his dashboard.

“Oh jeez. Who’s stacked it?” he asked Yeonjun.

“Jake Sim in the Picador,” Yeonjun replied flatly. “Didn’t show quite enough respect to the corner at Luffield. This one could take a while, there’s damage to the tyre barrier,” he informed Jeongguk soberly.

“OK,” Jeongguk drawled, settling in to the rather dull rhythm of following behind a safety car. He knew he’d have to prevent his mind from wandering, and that even though Yeonjun had suggested this could go on for a while, he needed to make sure he was ready to drop the accelerator and go the very moment the safety car ended. At least it was a full safety car and not a virtual, which meant he’d get some warning before the Mercedes AMG GT-R peeled into the pits and set them free to race once more.

When it did, Jeongguk was ready. Once the safety car had left the track, it was down to him to decide when to floor it. Nobody could go before Jeongguk took off, and there was to be no overtaking before the safety car line. With that in mind, he dropped his foot so abruptly he caught the others by surprise, sailing off into the distance and giving them no opportunity to show him a front wheel.

“Woohoo!” Jeongguk shouted, adrenaline fluttering harshly in his veins. He learned from Yeonjun that Kim Taehyung had pitted under the safety car and was now on hard tyres, clearly hoping to extend his stint and wrong-foot the drivers around him. Jeongguk quietly resolved to stick firmly to his original plan.

The following twenty laps passed quite smoothly for Jeongguk and before he knew it, Yeonjun was calling him into the pits. Out on a set of fresh medium tyres, Jeongguk relished the bite they gave him, pumping in a fastest lap of the race. He heard from Yeonjun that Seokjin had, at last, overtaken Felix Lee and was lying in second on the road. However, whether he could stay there was subject to Kim Taehyung and his tyre-whisperer tendencies. If Taehyung could pull off some of his patented tyre magic, he had a very real chance of stealing P2 back from Seokjin. But if not? Jeongguk was going to have to keep an eye on his mirrors.

Just as he was beginning to settle into his rhythm again, the safety car indicator flashed up once more. Jeongguk groaned. “Jjunie, who is it this time?” he drawled, hoping against hope that it was one of his main rivals.

“Minghao,” Yeonjun informed him. “Stacked it badly at Club corner. It’s a messy one, gravel all over the track.”

After half a lap under the safety car, the red flags were being waved.

“Ah, shit,” Jeongguk cursed under his breath. The last thing he needed was this kind of interruption to his race. They’d have to bring the cars back in, get out of them, wander around, scratch their asses or whatever else they did while waiting for the race to restart and somehow, he was supposed to maintain concentration through all of that?

Of course, it was made even more difficult by Kim Seokjin. Instead of leaving Jeongguk alone, Seokjin sauntered over to him in the garage and gave him a wry smile.

“Not exactly what you’d hoped for, I’m guessing,” Seokjin said softly.

There was no malice in his words, simply kindness and understanding from someone who had been in this situation many times before.

“You’re doing a good job. Keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll be fine,” Seokjin added, his tone somewhat flippant as he walked away.

Jeongguk tried – and failed – not to watch him. Glancing back the other way, he met the eyes of an extremely smug looking Min Yoongi. Seokjin’s race engineer arched a quizzical eyebrow before disappearing to the back of the garage.

Shit.

After twenty achingly slow minutes, the announcement finally came through that the race was due to restart in ten minutes’ time. The pitlane was a flurry of activity as the teams scrambled to ready themselves for battle once more. As it would be a standing start, Jeongguk knew he would have to fight for the lead all over again. The order of the top four had altered somewhat, with Kim Seokjin second, Felix Lee third and Kim Taehyung fourth, but Jeongguk was anticipating the competition to be just as fierce. Under red flag conditions, they were allowed to change tyres. So instead of mediums or hards, Jeongguk, Seokjin and Taehyung had all strapped on brand spanking new pairs of softs. With fifteen laps to go, it would be a sprint to the finish. The winner would be whoever was best at holding their nerve.

As the lights went out this time around, Jeongguk could see nothing except the exact line he needed to take to stay ahead of the charging pack. Perhaps it wasn’t any easier this time around, but it certainly felt that way. By the end of the restart lap, Jeongguk had pulled out half a second’s lead over his teammate and was working to extend that.

“Taehyung’s made it up to third,” Yeonjun informed him. “Also just banged in the fastest lap of the race.”

Jeongguk absorbed that information solemnly. He’d thought that Kim Taehyung could be a threat for second place, but had he underestimated his countryman’s challenge for the win? He’d find out one way or another, but for now, he just had to keep driving.

Two laps from the finish, Jeongguk was leading by two and a half seconds from Kim Seokjin, the adrenaline rush having died down slightly as he fell into a comfortable rhythm. Until the crowd let out an immense roar, startling Jeongguk out of his trance. The moment the noise receded, Yeonjun came over the radio. “Guk, Kim Taehyung just did a spectacular overtake on Seokjin at Stowe. He’s coming for you. Keep your head down.”

As he began the final lap of the race, Jeongguk saw his worst fear in his mirrors. Fiery red bearing down on him at a speed that defied belief. Yeonjun hadn’t lied when he said Kim Taehyung had been coming for him… But Jeongguk wasn’t going to back down. Kim Taehyung was good. Verging on great, perhaps. But he wasn’t Jeon Jeongguk. Firing the car out of Maggots and Becketts, around Chapel Curve and on to the Hangar Straight, Jeongguk was able to eke out just enough room to breathe easier. Once he’d made it through Stowe and Vale, he knew he just needed to hold it together through Club and he’d be on the start/finish straight ready to take the win. Defending with everything he had, Jeongguk managed to hold off Kim Taehyung just enough to cross the line half a car length in front of the Stallions driver.

“Ohmygod ohmygod OHMYGOD! I DID IT! I WON AT SILVERSTONE” he bellowed, pumping his fist in the air.

“Amazing work Gukkie!” Yeonjun congratulated him. “You kept your head through some very difficult circumstances today. You should be really proud of what you’ve achieved.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Jjunie,” Jeongguk replied through tears. “And thank you to the rest of the team for believing in me.”

Namjoon’s rich voice filled his ears. “How could we not believe in you, Jeon Jeongguk? You’re a superstar. We are all so, so proud.”

Was Jeongguk imagining things, or did Namjoon sound a little teary himself?

Had there ever been a more jubilant podium at Silverstone? You could ask anyone up and down the paddock and none of them would be able to give a concrete answer to that question. All they could tell you is that Jeon Jeongguk’s happiness was so infectious that nobody could stop smiling. Even his two main rivals standing on the podium beside him. The spraying of champagne was particularly boisterous, leaving them all dripping wet and laughing. Jeongguk wondered if he’d ever rid himself of the sensation of bubbles up his nose.

Of course, the Silver Bullets threw an enormous team party. Jeongguk was the toast of the evening, with everyone clamouring for his attention. Throughout it all, Jeongguk couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on Seokjin. Was that a flash of bitterness in his teammate’s eyes? Seokjin had said all the right things in front of the cameras, but it would be only natural for him to feel some kind of way about Jeongguk’s spectacular triumph today. It was only when Namjoon threw his arms around Jeongguk and squeezed him tightly that Jeongguk noticed Seokjin’s expression darken. Once Namjoon had released him, Jeongguk saw that Seokjin was nowhere to be found. Curious, he searched for him, eventually spotting him heading for his driver room.

“Seokjin!” Jeongguk called quietly, so as not to draw too much attention from others.

Seokjin whirled around, anger etched deeply into his face. “What? What the fuck do you want, Jeongguk? I’ve tried to swallow my pride and be nice to you, to welcome you to our team after a shaky start. And now you’re fucking Namjoon, too? Is there a line you’re not willing to cross?”

Jeongguk’s jaw dropped. Was Seokjin for real? Did he really think Jeongguk was fucking Namjoon, of all people? “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded.

Seokjin stalked forward, almost caging Jeongguk against the wall. “Don’t lie to me, you little slut. I saw you in his arms back there, the way he cradled your head and held you like you were precious to him.”

Jeongguk shook his head in wild disbelief. His brain-to-mouth filter malfunctioned, and he didn’t realise what he was saying until he’d already said it. “Why on earth would I be fucking Namjoon when you’re the only man I’ve wanted since I was nineteen years old?”

The silence that fell between them crackled and pulsed with erratic energy. Seokjin’s eyes blew wide as he internalised what he’d just heard. Something clicked inside him as realised that he hadn’t been jealous of the idea that Jeongguk was fucking Namjoon. He’d been jealous of the idea that Namjoon was fucking Jeongguk. And God, how he wanted the man standing right before him.

 Jeongguk’s eyes were blazing with fury, underscored by dark, vivid lust. Their breaths sounded deafening in the quiet hallway as they stared each other down, daring each other to react.

Neither one was sure who moved first. But the next thing they knew, they were kissing. Hot, wet, and desperate as Seokjin crowded Jeongguk against the wall, devouring his gasps and tiny little sighs. The heavy lurch and throb between his legs let Seokjin know that he’d never been so hard in his life. With a wanton mewl, Jeongguk’s hands dove into Seokjin’s hair, pinning him in place so he could lick into his mouth even more deeply.

“Shit, Jeongguk,” Seokjin gasped between incendiary kisses. “What are you doing to me?”

“What I’ve wanted to do for eight goddamn years,” Jeongguk growled, trailing a hand down Seokjin’s spine and grabbing him by the ass.

Seokjin’s choked moan was better than anything Jeongguk had dreamed. “Quick. Let’s go to my driver room,” he insisted, dragging Jeongguk by the hand. The moment the door closed behind them, Seokjin had Jeongguk pressed up against the door. “What do you want?” he breathed, unable to detach himself from Jeongguk’s lips for any longer than it took to utter those words.

“You,” Jeongguk shot back. “Just… I don’t know, touch me or something… and hurry up about it!”

It was blatantly obvious that Jeongguk was in the same state as Seokjin. And judging by the size of the tent in his shorts, this was going to be a lot of fun. Without warning, Seokjin shoved his hand right underneath Jeongguk’s boxers, marvelling at the weight of him in his palm. Jeongguk let out a strangled cry. “Oh God, I’m not gonna last!”

“If you would just put your fucking hand on my dick, I won’t, either,” Seokjin grunted through gritted teeth.  

Jeongguk did as he was told. Gasps, sighs, and other sounds of ecstasy filled the cramped driver room, swallowed as they were by each other’s seeking mouths. The pace was frantic, the sounds growing steadily wetter as they jerked each other off with increasing intensity. Seokjin had a small moment of pride when Jeongguk was the first to come. The sweetest moans falling from his lips, his back arched hard against the door as he spilled, warm and white, all over Seokjin’s hand. Though his grip on Seokjin’s cock faltered for a moment, Jeongguk kept his rhythm and the moment his cum had finished pulsing out of him, Seokjin let out a long, high sound and released in thick spurts. Harsh breathing and the slick sounds of lips meeting were the only things they could hear for long moments as they came down from their highs, unwilling to move apart from each other by even the tiniest amount.

After what felt like an eternity, Jeongguk was the first to speak. “Seokjin,” he said tenderly, gazing into the older man’s eyes.

“Jeongguk,” Seokjin replied, taking his time to form the syllables with feeling.

Jeongguk’s eyes darkened, and he blurted out, “What are we going to do, now?”

As the true horror of what they’d just done came crashing over them, the teammates stared at each other in dismay.

Chapter Text

“Five more reps on that weight,” Jimin ordered, refusing to look Taehyung in the eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, more that he just couldn’t make eye contact with his driver. Since Montreal, he hadn’t been able to remain in the same space as Taehyung for any length of time without wanting to jump out of his skin. The urge to do something monumentally stupid was never far from the surface. Like confess that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Taehyung, or grab him by the waist and plant a kiss on those delicious lips, not stopping until he was begging Jimin for mercy…

Jimin shuddered as that mental image threatened to overtake his sanity. With monumental effort, he wrenched his thoughts away from that particular precipice. Taehyung was a flirt. That was something universally agreed-upon. Even if he might seem interested in Jimin, it would be utterly foolish to give in to temptation only to shatter a professional relationship – and likely get his heart broken in the process. Their movie night, as heart-warmingly wonderful as it had been, was something that Jimin should consign to a lovely memory. A reality that, as much as he craved it, could never be his.

The worst part of all of this was that as Taehyung’s performance coach, Jimin was required to watch him work out. It was literally the main part of his job to watch Taehyung contorting his body into all sorts of positions, muscles bulging and skin glowing with a sheen of perspiration. Not only did he have to be present while such things occurred, he had to check his driver’s form, and correct anything that could lead to injury. The fastest way of doing that? Naturally, it was by touch, by gently manhandling Taehyung into the correct physical position for the exercise. It had never been an issue, before.

It was now.

Every time Jimin’s hands landed on Taehyung’s skin he was afraid of being burned. After giving the situation a whole lot of thought, including what Hoseok had suggested about Taehyung’s potential feelings for him, Jimin had come to the conclusion that it was only his fast-spiralling, probably one-sided crush on Taehyung that had put these ideas in his head. And that was something that he could manage. It was within Jimin’s control, whether he allowed his inappropriate feelings for his driver – his co-worker – to translate into inappropriate actions.

But damn, Jimin couldn’t tear his eyes away today.

“Jimin?” Taehyung called, shaking him out of his reverie.

“Mm?”

“Can you check my form on these glute bridges? Something doesn’t feel quite right,” Taehyung admitted.

Jimin walked over. “OK, show me what you’ve got.”

It was immediately obvious to Jimin what the issue was. Instead of keeping a flat back, Taehyung was arching his spine as his hips rose off the mat. “Taehyung, you’re arching,” he pointed out. “Try again but don’t let your lower back collapse.”

Taehyung attempted the exercise once more, with the same mistake.

“No, Taehyung, you’re still arching-“

“I can’t feel what I’m doing wrong, Jimin,” he replied in frustration. “Can you put your hand there so I know what to correct?”

Taehyung’s question was perfectly innocent, and yet, Jimin’s cheeks burned like wildfire. “OK,” he mumbled, getting into position above Taehyung with one leg either side of his torso. Reaching down, he placed a hand on either side of his waist. “Through the back here,” he instructed. “Those muscles are collapsing in on themselves when you go up. Keep them straight. Have a go at it while I hold you.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Jimin wished with all his might that he could take them back. The merest hint of a smirk appeared on Taehyung’s lips as he performed the exercise, correctly this time. “I think that was better,” he said.

Jimin’s hands sprang away from Taehyung’s body and he took several steps away. “Yeah, you’ve got it. Do it again so I can check,” he muttered. This time, Taehyung’s form was impeccable, much to Jimin’s relief. But the particular angle of viewing only served to highlight the length and thickness of the bulge in Taehyung’s sweatpants. Grey, of course. As Taehyung performed a series of perfectly executed glute bridges, grunting each time his hips thrust into the air, Jimin couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to rather more salacious images. Taehyung under him, inside him, thrusting up, making them both moan. With his rich, deep voice, he would sound so pretty…

“Jimin?” Taehyung’s voice infiltrated Jimin’s thoughts, bringing him back down to earth with a thump.

“Huh?”

“I’ve finished the set. Are we done for today?”

“Oh! Yeah, I guess we are,” Jimin replied in surprise.

“Cool.” A shadow passed across Taehyung’s face. “Before you head out, can we talk about something?”

Concern flashed in Jimin’s eyes. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for,” he pointed out.

Taehyung gnawed at his lip, clearly thinking. “Great. Um, I’m all sweaty so I’m just gonna have a quick shower and change. Can I take you out for coffee and we’ll talk then?”

Oh fuck. Why did Jimin feel like he’d fallen right into a trap?

Fifteen minutes later, Taehyung had returned wearing a clean t-shirt and jeans, smelling deliciously of body wash. Jimin was glad he’d worn a clean tracksuit this morning, so he didn’t look too much of a disaster. At least he’d brushed his hair…

“There’s a new café just around the corner that I’ve been meaning to try,” Taehyung confided. “We shouldn’t be bothered there, especially if we get a booth in the back.”

“Lead the way,” Jimin sighed. Following Taehyung out of the gym, Jimin attempted to wrench his eyes away from his deliciously plump ass, so beautifully cradled by the jeans he was wearing. Jeez, you need to jerk off or something, he thought to himself. He really couldn’t go around being this thirsty when he was supposed to be working.  

Given the giggly nature of both the waitress who showed them to their table and the barista who took their drinks order, it was safe to say that Taehyung had been recognised. Or maybe he’s just that handsome, Jimin pondered. Well. Whatever. So Taehyung was handsome, what of it? Most of the F1 grid were devastatingly good-looking. They’d had to win the genetic lottery in all sorts of ways in order to be able to do what they did, so it was only natural that their looks followed suit. Jimin knew all that. He liked to think that after his first week in the job, in which he had walked around almost open-mouthed at the sheer beauty of all the men he was working alongside, that he’d gotten used to it. So why was it such a problem now?

Sipping at his iced americano, Jimin cast a withering look at the cream-topped monstrosity Taehyung was eyeing with barely concealed excitement. “You know that’s not the best post-workout fuelling choice,” he drawled.

Taehyung merely grinned. “Tastes good, though.” He coated his spoon in whipped cream and sucked it clean, carefully watching Jimin’s face as he did. “Wanna try?” he added innocently, holding out the just-licked spoon to Jimin.

The shiver that made its way down Jimin’s spine was purely due to his driver’s poor nutritional choices. “No thanks,” he replied flatly. “I’ll stick to my iced americano.”

“Suit yourself,” Taehyung replied offhandedly. “I mean, I don’t really understand why you’re so determined to deprive yourself of pleasure, but hey.”

Because the one thing I want the most is the one thing I should never fucking have, and it’s driving me crazy, Jimin thought bitterly. Clearing his throat, he asked, “So what’s up? What did you need to talk to me about?”

“It’s always business with you,” Taehyung sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine. If you must know right this second, I’ll tell you. I’m depressed as fuck,” he admitted, twiddling his interlocked fingers to avoid looking at Jimin. “I was having a decent season, by my reckoning. I even won at Monaco. But now I’ve dropped to third in the standings and my confidence has taken a nosedive,” Taehyung admitted.

“Oh,” Jimin uttered, surprised to hear such an admission coming out of Taehyung’s mouth.

“The thing is, Jimin, the other drivers don’t take me seriously,” Taehyung declared, his deep brown eyes glinting with unexpressed pain. “And I know that’s largely my own fault, but jeez, what do I have to do to catch a break? I am a threat for the championship and I intend to continue being so,” he said firmly. “But everyone seems to think my challenge will disappear in a puff of smoke like it’s done in previous years. I know I kind of did this to myself, but it fucking hurts,” he finished, looking down at his coffee.

A beat of silence passed.

Taehyung’s eyes tentatively rose to meet Jimin’s. “I want to win,” he said quietly. “I want be the best version of Kim Taehyung that’s ever existed. I want to show the world what I’m capable of. Will you help me, Jimin?”

The starkness of Taehyung’s vulnerability triggered a rush of warmth in Jimin’s chest. Without thinking, he placed a hand over Taehyung’s and squeezed it. “Of course I will. That’s what I’m here for, after all,” he assured him. A flush of heat rose to Jimin’s cheeks as Taehyung smiled in a way that felt almost too vulnerable, too intimate for the setting they were in.

“I’ll do whatever you recommend, Jimin. I’ll take my meditation practice more seriously, do it five times a day if necessary. I’ll even write myself some of those fuckin’ affirmation cards you go on and on about, if you really think it will help,” he said earnestly.

Jimin’s heart fluttered almost painfully as he digested what Taehyung was saying. Over the few years they’d worked together, Jimin had learned that Taehyung was nowhere near as flippant as he appeared from the outside. And yet, he’d never seen him quite so determined. “How about I go home and make up a mental strength training programme for you? We can talk more about it tomorrow,” Jimin suggested.

Taehyung’s eyes lit up. “That would be amazing, Jimin.”

Jimin gave him a wry smile. “You’ve got two weeks until the next Grand Prix. Let’s aim for some serious steps forward there, OK?”

Taehyung sighed happily. “You are such a star. What would I ever do without you?”

Jimin shrugged, embarrassed. “I’m sure you’d think of something,” he mumbled. It was best for everyone if he simply ignored Taehyung’s fond, quizzical look.

*****

It’s really come to this, I guess, Seokjin lamented to himself in the shower as he frantically chased his orgasm, desperate to take the edge off before he was required to show his face at the gym. Releasing with a choked cry, Seokjin quickly washed away the evidence and resumed washing the rest of his body.

What had happened with Jeongguk after Silverstone was simply inexcusable. He was no sixteen-year-old child, a slave to his hormones. Kim Seokjin was twice that age, a three-time world champion and should have had far more self-control. But the fact remained, he had whined and gasped and come all over his teammate’s hand, and there was no taking it back. It couldn’t happen again. There was absolutely no way he could allow it.

But Jeon Jeongguk was making it extremely difficult not to want to.

Pushing the door to the gym open, Seokjin took a deep breath to fortify himself. “Hey,” he greeted the two men already waiting for him. Hoseok waved from the other side of the room, where he was currently on the phone. Seokjin had broken his own rule and was arriving at the precise time their training session was due to start. He noticed Jeongguk glancing at his watch, and then back at him. There was nothing he could do but ignore it.

“Sorry, you two. Had to deal with some important business,” Hoseok explained. “Stationary bike, let’s go!”

After five minutes, Seokjin had given up on controlling his eyes. They had a mind of their own and they knew exactly where they wanted to go. Unfortunately, that was Jeongguk’s spectacularly muscled thighs, displayed to perfection in a pair of lycra shorts. And good God, now that he knew what was underneath those shorts it was taking everything Seokjin had not to drool…

“Seokjin! Focus!” Hoseok yapped.

The next two hours felt like three years to Seokjin as he struggled to tear his eyes and mind away from Jeongguk in all his glory. The way his muscles flexed was like something out of a wet dream. In fact, he had visited Seokjin in his dreams on several occasions recently. But in his unconscious mind, Jeongguk was riding him, his thighs and abs flexing as he bucked up and down to meet each of Seokjin’s thrusts.

The sheer heat that pooled at the base of Seokjin’s stomach should have been enough of a warning. Stop this now, he told himself firmly. It wasn’t as though they had any plans to take things further, anyway.

After they’d cleaned themselves up following their encounter at Silverstone, Jeongguk had looked at Seokjin with those ridiculous eyes and said, “I know what you’re going to say. We can’t do this, we never did it, and we won’t talk about it again. Right?”

Seokjin’s jaw had fallen open. How had Jeongguk known exactly what he’d been planning to say? Well, at least it saves me the trouble, he’d mused. “You’re right, Jeongguk,” Seokjin had affirmed. “We absolutely can’t do this again.”

Jeongguk pushed a hand through his already messy hair. “So I’m just supposed to pretend like I don’t want you?”

“That’s exactly what you’ll do, and what I’ll do also,” Seokjin confirmed icily. “We’re teammates. We can’t fuck around, it’s a recipe for disaster.”

Muttering something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like “It’s a bit fucking late for that”, Jeongguk shook his head and left the room, leaving Seokjin alone. “Shit,” he’d uttered, and thrown a punch at the wall.

Namjoon had believed him when he’d said the damage had been caused when he’d tripped, falling elbow-first into the wall. For now, that was all that mattered.

*****

Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, Spa, Belgium

Finally, Hoseok had managed to convince Yoongi to see him. But that was all he’d do. No amount of apologising, cajoling, or even downright begging would shift Yoongi from his determination not to allow Hoseok to touch him.

“How many times do I have to apologise, Yoongi-yah?” Hoseok whined, reaching out a hand to touch his cheek. To no avail, as Yoongi ducked out of the way just in time.

“It’s not an apology I want,” Yoongi shrugged. “It’s a change in behaviour, Hoba. I’m not your dirty little secret,” he declared, folding his arms and turning away.

Fear landed in Hoseok’s stomach, sharp and icy. Did that mean Yoongi wanted…

“I’m tired of having to hide, of pretending we’re not close in public. Do you have any idea how much that hurts me?” Yoongi added, his voice trembling a little. “It makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you. I know we work together, Hoba, but is that really so bad? Would it be so terrible if everyone knew we were together?”

Hoseok’s panic scrambled his brain. Yes, it would be terrible if everyone knew, because ‘everyone’ included Namjoon. Which meant that Yoongi would find out that Hoseok had also been fucking Namjoon (and Namjoon would find out that Hoseok had also been fucking Yoongi) and all hell would break loose.

“Just… give me some time, OK?” Hoseok managed to utter. Before he could lose his nerve, he made his excuses and left.

It wasn’t until he was safely back in his own hotel room that he realised he’d forgotten his phone. “Motherfucker!” Hoseok cursed, turning on his heel and practically sprinting back to Yoongi’s room. Knocking on the door, he prayed that nothing incriminating had shown up for Yoongi to see.

“Yoongi, it’s me. I think I left my phone here,” he called.

The door unlocked. Yoongi raised an eyebrow at him. “You really ought to be more careful, Hoba,” he chided. “Do you know how many people would be desperate for a few of the numbers you’ve got saved in there? It wouldn’t do to lose it,” he added, shaking his head. Stepping aside, he allowed Hoseok into the room.

“I think it must have fallen out of my pocket,” Hoseok apologised, searching the floor. Aha! There it was. He scooped it up and put it in his pocket without checking for notifications. Yoongi obviously hadn’t seen anything untoward, judging by his indifference. “I’ll leave you alone now,” Hoseok added meekly, departing the scene.

It wasn’t until he was absolutely certain that Hoseok had gone that Yoongi’s hands clenched back into the fists they’d been in before the knock on the door had startled him. Hoseok’s phone had been sitting on the bed when it had lit up with a notification. Clearly, Hoseok hadn’t cared enough to turn off text message notification previews, as Yoongi was able to read, at a glance, exactly what Namjoon planned to do to Hoseok later that night.

So he’s fucking the boss. I should have known, Yoongi thought, his mouth curling into a sneer. Grabbing his phone, Yoongi fired off a text.

Min Yoongi (18.38):

I think we need to talk about a certain Jung Hoseok.

Namely, the fact that we’re both fucking him.

Namjoon smiled as his phone buzzed, expecting it to be a reply from Hoseok to the rather intimate text he’d just sent. So the reality was quite a shock. Blinking several times to clear his eyes, Namjoon read it over and over again until the words blurred into unrecognisable patterns and a harsh ringing took over his ears.

Min Yoongi was fucking Hoseok?

Min Yoongi was fucking Hoseok.

Now, Namjoon and Hoseok had never specifically agreed to be exclusive, that was a fact. And yet, Namjoon had to check that an actual dagger hadn’t pierced his chest. He’d been slowly but steadily falling for Hoseok, despite the fact that he’d told himself it was just a dalliance, something easy and comfortable to keep him from falling apart during the gruelling season. Just as Kim Seokjin used to be to you, the unwelcome thought crossed his mind.

Swallowing down on his anger, Namjoon dashed off a reply.

Kim Namjoon (18.40):

I’ll text you the address of a bar where we can talk undisturbed.

Meet me there in an hour.

Dropping his head into his hands and letting out a deep groan, Namjoon rubbed at his aching temples. He really didn’t need this kind of drama… in fact, he’d thought that by hooking up with someone as carefree as Hoseok, he’d avoided any chance of it. But Yoongi… Namjoon sighed heavily. He respected Yoongi far too much to be OK with this revelation. Following up with the address, Namjoon went to the bathroom to wash his face.

Upon his return, he fired off a text to Hoseok.

Kim Namjoon (18.47):

Sorry, Hoba, I’m gonna have to take a raincheck on tonight.

One of the trustees is in town and I’m tasked with entertaining him.

I’ll make it up to you soon xx

It didn’t feel good to lie. But neither did it feel good to know that Jung Hoseok was a two-timing bastard.

Namjoon supposed he’d cope with the discomfort of the first. The second, however, was going to be rather more difficult.

*****

Taehyung hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Jimin he’d do whatever he would recommend. For the last few weeks, he’d practiced meditation twice daily, written affirmation cards, and worked hard on reframing any negative thoughts that crept into his internal monologue. As a result, he was feeling stronger than ever at the start of the third qualifying session for the Belgian Grand Prix. He’d sailed through the first two segments, effortlessly topping the timesheets and leaving Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Seokjin trailing in his wake.

“Time to put the hammer down, Tae,” Hyungsik told him. “The track should be pretty clear in front of you. I’ll advise if any traffic comes up.”

Taehyung didn’t bother answering, simply put his foot down to accelerate over the start/finish line.

Ten minutes later, he was confirmed as the pole-sitter for Sunday’s Grand Prix. The Silver Bullets hadn’t got anywhere near him, in the end. Taehyung’s first lap would have been good enough for P1 anyway, but he managed to fire in a second that was even better, taking pole position by half a second. An almost unheard-of margin around this track. And yet, Kim Taehyung had done it.

Take that, you fuckers, he thought. I won’t disappear quite so easily this time.

*****

It was a typical Sunday at Spa-Francorchamps, right down to the weather.

“Looks a bit unstable up there,” Yeonjun pointed out while Jeongguk was completing the formation lap. “We’ll keep an eye on the radar and advise what to do,” he assured him.

“Sure thing, Jjunie,” Jeongguk agreed as he rounded the final corner and took his place on the front row. The green flag was waved. The lights went on, and after a lengthy hold, they were racing again.

“Taehyung’s got a rocket up his ass,” Jeongguk complained, unable to stay with the Stallions driver after the first few corners.

“Don’t worry about him. Just-“

“Keep your head down, I know, I know,” Jeongguk joked. “Will do, Jjunie.”

“Taehyung, box box,” Hyungsik called. “Heavy rain in two minutes.”

Doing as he was told, Taehyung peeled into the pitlane and returned to the track with intermediate tyres. Almost immediately after he returned to the track, rain hammered down. Taehyung reflected smugly that he’d got the jump on everyone else as almost all the other cars came into the pits on the following lap. Everyone, that was, except Jeon Jeongguk.

“Jjunie, I wanna stay out.”

“Guk, are you sure? It’s pouring out there! You’ll have to be super careful not to lose it.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk agreed, “but so will everyone else on their cold inters. All it takes is one person to mess up and boom, we have a safety car.”

Driving on slick tyres around a wet Spa-Francorchamps was akin to sprinting on an ice rink in normal shoes, Jeongguk mused. Gingerly, he picked his way around the lap, the large gap he’d held over the rest of the field dwindling with every corner. He had been about to give up and come in when Yeonjun’s voice startled him. “Felix Lee is in the wall. I’m pretty sure they’re gonna throw a safety car. Get through this lap and then come in!”

“Is Felix OK?” Jeongguk asked, never one to take such things for granted.

“Yeah, he’s walking away as we speak,” Yeonjun reassured him. “Car’s a mess, though…”

Sure enough, as Jeongguk swerved into the pit lane, the safety car indicator came up on his dashboard. All he needed was a perfect stop. Thankfully, the Silver Bullets pit crew were on fine form today. 2.1 seconds after arriving in his pit box, Jeongguk was picking his way through the pit lane on brand new intermediate tyres. The roar of the crowd when he returned to the track was more than enough to illustrate the situation.

“That’s P1, Gukkie, P1,” Yeonjun confirmed.

“That lucky bastard!” Taehyung fumed as the rear wing of Jeongguk’s Silver Bullet appeared in front of him.

“To be honest, Tae, it was quite a clever call to stay out-“

“Do I look like I give a fuck right now, Hyungsikkie?” Taehyung cut him off sharply.

“Keep going, Tae. Still twelve laps to go,” Hyungsik reminded him.

“Keep going, my ass,” Taehyung grumbled under his breath.

No matter what he did, Taehyung simply could not get close enough to Jeongguk to attempt an overtake. So he grudgingly settled for second place. Thankfully, Kim Seokjin was five seconds adrift and no threat to his position. Out of sheer pettiness, Taehyung threw caution to the wind on the last lap and pinched the fastest lap right from under Jeongguk’s nose. That bonus point would feel particularly sweet today.

Taehyung was well aware that Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Seokjin did not enjoy the smoothest of teammate relationships. That being said, the tension in the cool down room was off the charts that day. It seemed almost as though they were using him as a buffer to avoid getting too close to one another. Frankly, that was simply another reason that he couldn’t wait until the podium ceremony was over so he could get the hell out of there.

Three Korean flags waved high above the podium as the familiar strains of their national anthem echoed throughout the track. Taehyung couldn’t help the small shudder that overtook him when instead of being followed by the Italian national anthem for the Stallions team, the pompous strains of the German anthem dragged turgidly on. From the side of the podium he was on, Taehyung couldn’t miss the heated looks that passed between the two Silver Bullets drivers. Yeesh, they really needed to chill and get over whatever was making them act that way. Maybe they needed to get laid… Not that he was exactly one to talk at the moment.

Taehyung’s eyes were occupied with trying to find Jimin in the crowd. The realisation that Jimin was beautiful had crept up on him so stealthily. And yet, now that he knew it to be so, he couldn’t bear to waste another second that he could be appreciating that beauty. The moment his eyes finally landed on their target, Taehyung’s soul cried out: Home. But, as today’s race had so beautifully illustrated for him, sometimes one just doesn’t get what they want. An uncomfortable sensation lay heavily in his gut as he pondered what Jimin would say about his reaction to Jeongguk’s win today.

“You can only control what you do, Taehyung, not anyone else. Sometimes things go your way, and sometimes they don’t. But it’s how you react that says a lot about the kind of person you are.” Sighing, he glanced up at Jeon Jeongguk, grinning and gulping down the celebratory champagne.

Maybe he’d been a little too hasty in his assessment of Jeon’s driving today.

Ignoring the very weird tension between the Silver Bullets teammates, Taehyung sidled up to Jeongguk just after they’d left the podium. “Hey, Jeon,” he murmured.

“Hmm?” Jeongguk responded, lifting his eyebrow curiously.

Taehyung cringed at what he was about to say. Nevertheless, he was determined to say it. “Well done, today. That was a pretty epic strategy call that got you the win.”

Jeongguk stopped in his tracks and turned around to stare at Taehyung. “Uh, thanks,” he mumbled.

“Can I buy you a beer later? You know, to say congratulations on a great race,” Taehyung blurted out. If Jeon wasn’t careful, his eyes were going to fall right out of his face. “I mean, they have pretty good beer here in Belgium. Even I can tolerate it,” he joked.

Jeongguk threw back his head and laughed. “Well, if that’s not an endorsement, I don’t know what is,” he quipped. Eyeing Taehyung cautiously, he seemed to make a decision. “Sure, Kim. You can buy me a beer. Meet me in the hotel lobby in an hour?”

“Deal,” Taehyung affirmed. Wandering back to the garage to pack up, Taehyung realised that occasionally letting his guard down really wasn’t so scary.

He only hoped Jimin would be proud of him. He’d kind of given up on anything more intimate happening between them, but at least he could have that.

*****

Belgium to Budapest was one of the least stressful back-to-backs of the season, with the flight time less than a couple of hours and the time zone remaining the same. So there was no jetlag, very little climate adjustment and far less angst whichever way you looked at it. Well. Supposedly.

When Taehyung had decided it was best for Jimin to travel with him on charter planes rather than battle with the hoi polloi in economy class, it had seemed like a reprieve. And yet, 38,000 feet above Central Europe, forced into close proximity with the man he was desperately trying not to obsess over, it was rather too much for Jimin to bear. Who knew that private air travel could feel so damn claustrophobic? Taehyung’s presence was so powerful it felt like he was everywhere in the small cabin. And realistically, Jimin couldn’t avoid him on short trips. Longer ones had slightly more scope for that – he’d duck off to a seat slightly further away with the excuse that he wanted to get some sleep. But that was hardly going to cut it today. The other problem was Taehyung’s outfit choices on flights. Or rather, his lack of them. The moment he’d board the plane, Taehyung would remove his shoes and socks, his shirt, and sometimes even his trousers, flopping directly on to a pre-prepared mountain of pillows for the duration of the flight. The first time this had happened, Jimin must have worn his shock on his face because Taehyung raised an eyebrow and drawled, “What? I’m paying for all this, the least I can expect is to be comfortable.” Jimin didn’t really have a comeback for that. So with an enormous amount of effort, he averted his eyes from Taehyung’s pert brown nipples and focused on the view outside the window.

Hoseok’s stress levels were through the roof. Unsurprising, as Jeongguk and Seokjin were becoming increasingly stilted around each other, and to add to that, both his lovers were holding out on him again. The situation with Yoongi hadn’t improved, though they’d been talking via text – but Namjoon had become oddly elusive since their aborted meeting on Friday evening. A prickling sensation deep in Hoseok’s gut informed him that something was definitely not right. But he had no idea what, if anything, he could do about it. So, as usual, he resolved to suffer in silence. Once he’d made it to his hotel in Budapest he’d see what he could do about a little bit of manual relief. The very idea of having to resort to that made Hoseok uncomfortable. He’d been so well-fed that he hadn’t felt the need to jerk off in years. Desperate times called for desperate measures. And since Hoseok wasn’t willing to face the ramifications of his behaviour, he’d be flying solo tonight.

Jeongguk, as he looked gloomily down at the clouds, pondered the fact that Kim Taehyung was actually a far more decent guy than the media had led him to believe. They’d had some genuine laughs in a rather dank bar in the town of Spa on Sunday night, blissfully unbothered and merry on some very fine (and very strong) beer. It was the first time any of the other drivers had really treated him as a colleague. Jeongguk was still rather shocked that it had been Kim Taehyung who had the guts to make that move. The older driver had expressed his admiration for Jeongguk’s cool-headed strategy call, and they’d spent a good hour dissecting the race from different perspectives. As the evening wore on, Taehyung had thrown him a sidelong look and asked, “So what is the deal with you and His Majesty?”

Jeongguk had blanched, then blushed and murmured something inaudible. Taehyung’s sharp eyes had flashed with recognition, followed by amusement. “Look, Jeon, if you have a little crush on your teammate that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, Kim Seokjin is a pretty fine man, I’m not gonna lie-“

“Shut up,” Jeongguk had whined, shoving a hand over Taehyung’s rather too bold mouth. He wasn’t going to tell Kim Taehyung about what had happened, of course, but he sensed that the other driver already had an inkling of what the tension was about.

“Oh, I see,” Taehyung had drawled, an enviably perfect eyebrow rising smoothly toward his hairline. “But I will say one thing. Tension like that is bound to boil over at some point. You’re either gonna come to blows again, or you’re gonna fuck each other’s brains out. There’s no middle ground.”

Despite what Seokjin had insisted about acting as though nothing had ever happened, Jeongguk’s treacherous heart pined for the second option.

*****

Despite their entente cordiale, Taehyung and Jeongguk’s rivalry sprang back into action on the track. Free Practice 1 saw them swapping fastest times, with Taehyung eventually finishing the session ahead. Free Practice 2, however, was a rather different story. Kim Seokjin joined the party, crushing both of them with the fastest lap of the weekend so far. Watching Seokjin emerge elegantly from his car, self-satisfied expression on his sweaty, gleaming face, sparked an unquenchable fire in Jeongguk’s gut. He knew, right then and there, that he had to do something. Without giving it a second thought, Jeongguk pushed himself out of his car and followed Seokjin in silence.

The moment Seokjin reached the door of his driver room, Jeongguk cleared his throat. Seokjin whirled around in shock, only to find that his teammate was very definitely violating the boundaries of personal space.

“Hi,” Jeongguk breathed, fixing Seokjin with a determined look.

“Jeongguk,” Seokjin uttered. “Can I help you?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jeongguk blurted out, low and urgent. “I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you.” Taking another step forward, he whispered into Seokjin’s ear, “Come on, be honest. You can’t keep denying that you want me too.”

The heat between their bodies was almost unbearable. Seokjin felt a drop of sweat leave his hairline and trickle ever so slowly down his face. By the time it had reached his cheek, his next move was inevitable. With a guttural groan, he pushed open the door with his elbow as he surrendered to the exquisite feel of Jeongguk’s lips on his. Crashing into the room, they collapsed on the sofa, limbs flying everywhere as they clutched at each other trying to get as close as possible. “Take this off,” Jeongguk whined, pulling at Seokjin’s fireproof top. “I wanna see you.”

“Don’t you see enough in the gym?” Seokjin teased. Nevertheless, he shucked off the thin shirt, revealing his milky torso in all its toned glory. Jeongguk let out a cry and dove down to take Seokjin’s nipple in his mouth. “Oh fuck, Jeongguk,” Seokjin choked, his body alight with excitement and his cock rapidly filling out. “I want to see you, too,” he murmured, “see your beautiful body over me.”

Jeongguk sat up and smirked. “Been thinking about it, hmm?”

Seokjin squirmed under his scrutiny. “Well, uh… maybe?”

 Jeongguk twisted his nipple.

“Yeah… yes, I’ve been thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Seokjin admitted, sneaking a hand between his own legs to squeeze the almost painful bulge there.

Jeongguk slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch yourself,” he ordered, manhandling Seokjin so that he was on his back, knees spread and legs in the air.

“Shit,” Seokjin panted. If there had been any space in his brain to think, he would have realised that this was a terrible idea. His body, however, had a different view.

Wrenching Seokjin’s trousers down, Jeongguk was near-delirious as the scent of sweat and musk hit his nose like a tornado. “Fuck, Seokjin, what are you doing to me?” he murmured, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss just under his navel.

Seokjin’s cock lurched at the proximity. “The more pertinent question should be what are you doing to me,” he uttered lowly, shivering as Jeongguk eyed his weeping cock with an expression that could only be described as hunger.

“I’m about to see whether I can fit this King-sized cock in my mouth all at once,” Jeongguk murmured, his eyes lighting up with glee.

Before Seokjin could say anything, or even pause to think, Jeongguk was doing just that. In truth, it had been a long dry spell for Seokjin. Historically, he didn’t really allow people to get close to him, and since he and Namjoon had ended things, he hadn’t really felt the need to be intimate with anyone. Until Jeongguk. Those rushed handjobs after Silverstone had opened the floodgates of longing and Seokjin had barely managed to slam the door closed. Now, gazing down at Jeongguk’s pretty mouth stretched around his cock, one cheek bulging and drool running down his chin, Seokjin was a mere vessel for his own desires.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well,” he murmured, stroking Jeongguk’s hair. Clearly, he liked that, judging by the wanton moan that bubbled up from the younger’s throat. The heat and suction of Jeongguk’s mouth sparked intense delight, bubbling fervidly in the pit of Seokjin’s stomach. Unthinkingly, he tightened his hands in Jeongguk’s hair, pulling the strands just a little.

Jeongguk’s eyes rolled back and he moaned, his hips jerking forward of their own accord. He looked as though he could barely contain himself. When Seokjin’s eyes drifted down, he noticed that Jeongguk was painfully hard. 

“Why don’t you ride my thigh, baby?” Seokjin whispered. “Use me to get yourself off. Come on, you know you want to,” he urged.

Jeongguk whined around Seokjin’s cock, reaching down to shove his trousers and underwear away from his overexcited body. The heat and weight of Jeongguk’s cock, as well as the sticky drag of precum against his thigh, sent an electric thrum through Seokjin that left him desperate. “That’s it, baby, use me,” he encouraged as Jeongguk began to tremble and pant. Seokjin wasn’t sure what he found hotter – Jeongguk’s mouth stuffed full of him, or Jeongguk’s angry-looking, reddened cock humping his thigh at an increasingly fervent pace. Ultimately, it didn’t matter, as Seokjin’s body climbed to a blisteringly powerful, earth-shattering orgasm. The moment Seokjin began to spurt on to Jeongguk’s tongue, a wanton groan filled the room and Jeongguk was coming all over Seokjin’s thigh, hips pumping in a desperate search for friction amidst the slipperiness of it all.

With a final, choked cry, Jeongguk swallowed the last of Seokjin’s release, his head lolling heavily on to the older man’s stomach. Jaw falling open, Jeongguk allowed Seokjin’s softening cock to fall out of his mouth and placed a feather-light kiss on the tip.

“Pretty baby,” Seokjin cooed, gently wiping the saliva from Jeongguk’s chin.  

Jeongguk moaned, unable to form anything resembling a word in his completely pleasure-drunk state. Taking a deep breath, he murmured something inaudible.

“What was that?” Seokjin asked.

“Your pretty baby,” he uttered, clearer this time. “Just for you, Seokjin.”

Looking down at the beautiful man sprawled between his legs, race suit tangled around his ankles and a blissfully fucked-out expression on his face, Seokjin was overcome by a rush of emotion. Given that he didn’t ‘do’ feelings, the nature of it was a bit of a mystery to him. And yet, he knew that whatever difficulties this would cause for them on track and off, something deep inside him needed Jeongguk, and it would not be silenced.

When Jeongguk surged up, took Seokjin’s face in his hands and kissed him like he would die if he didn’t, Seokjin dared to hope that his teammate felt the same way.

*****

Yoongi eyed Hoseok with barely-concealed disdain as he wandered past the Silver Bullets team motorhome on his way out of the paddock. Hoseok, however, was blissfully unaware of Yoongi’s scrutiny. Just like he’s blissfully unaware that his cheating ways have been exposed, Yoongi thought grimly. His meeting with Namjoon had been… enlightening, to say the least. It had hurt him deeply to find out that Hoseok had been two-timing him for practically the entire duration of their relationship. But when he’d thought about it, Yoongi wasn’t overly surprised. Hoseok had always seemed notoriously difficult to keep still. Yoongi had to laugh at himself for ever thinking that he had the ability to make him do so.

But I thought he loved me, Yoongi thought sadly. I was a fool.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it right now, as he was on his way to meet with Namjoon to discuss their next move. Yoongi only hoped it would come swiftly.

Taehyung had lost count of the amount of invitations Jimin had declined since Montreal. And he’d just done it again when Taehyung invited him out to dinner that night. According to Jimin, he had to wash his socks. His socks! Taehyung had almost offered to take him out shopping for all the goddamn socks he’d ever need. But instead, he’d paused, recognising the rejection for what it was.

Jimin simply didn’t feel the same way about him. Taehyung had tried – harder than he’d ever tried with anyone – but Jimin was immune to his charms, and Taehyung would just have to reconcile himself to that fact. Somehow, he’d have to forget his feelings for Jimin. Shove them into a dark corner of his heart that the light would never reach. Perhaps, one day, they’d dissipate of their own accord. But every time he looked at Jimin, his heart cried out with longing. Sure, Taehyung wanted him. That was never more obvious than the way he rocked into his own fist in the small hours of the morning when he’d been jolted awake by the image of Jimin’s lips on his, Jimin’s body under, over, around him. The exquisite sounds he would undoubtedly make as Taehyung fucked into him, hands roving all over his stunning, creamy-skinned body while devouring those candy-sweet lips. Ultimately, though, it was Taehyung’s heart that ached the most, regardless of what his cock might have indicated.

Simply put, Taehyung had never had trouble finding partners. Even before he became a successful Formula 1 driver, his handsome features and rakish charm did most of the job for him. Not to mention that word spread pretty quickly on the subject of his… somewhat prodigious endowment. Taehyung had only shrugged and figured that it was pretty difficult to hide in a reasonably fitted race suit, and not really given it a second thought. It wasn’t as though he was the only driver whose dick size was the subject of mass discussion. But all that aside, Taehyung had to admit to himself that he had never before felt an attraction to someone that progressed beyond the merely physical. Whereas Jimin’s mind fascinated him endlessly. His kindness, humour, and gentleness held Taehyung in a vice grip from which there seemed to be no escape.

But Jimin didn’t want him. And Taehyung had to learn to live with that.

Knowing he would do much better in qualifying the next day if he could manage an uninterrupted night’s sleep, Taehyung reached into his boxers pre-emptively, loading up Pornhub on his phone. The video of the blonde twink getting railed within an inch of his life had been Taehyung’s favourite, lately. If the man’s pretty, but rather nondescript features had begun to morph into rather more familiar ones right at the point of orgasm, well that was Taehyung’s business only.

*****

This is the way to celebrate another pole position, Jeongguk thought to himself as he looked down at Kim Seokjin, on his knees, his delectably plump lips stretched to their limit around Jeongguk’s cock. They’d barely managed to keep their hands off each other long enough to complete the top three drivers’ press conference. Jeongguk had noticed Kim Taehyung’s sly glance at him, but thankfully Seokjin had not. The pull between the teammates was so strong that when Seokjin had tugged on Jeongguk’s hand upon arrival back in the paddock, Jeongguk had followed Seokjin to his driver room without a word and before he had time to think, his race suit was around his ankles, his knees spread wide as he perched on the sofa with The King feasting between his thighs.

Seokjin’s hands had been massaging calming circles on Jeongguk’s thighs (at least that’s what it seemed like. Seokjin knew that he was simply giving in to the temptation to get his hands on those spectacular quads). But as Jeongguk’s back began to arch, Seokjin ran his hands upwards and cupped Jeongguk’s ass firmly.

“Ohh, shit,” Jeongguk moaned, trembling in Seokjin’s hold.

Drawing his mouth back, Seokjin pulled off Jeongguk’s cock for a moment and sucked wetly on his own thumb. Satisfied, he ghosted the pad of it over Jeongguk’s tightly furled hole, a jolt of satisfaction exploding in him as Jeongguk’s hips bucked up against nothing.

“God, I’d love to fuck you, feel your tight little hole stretching to accommodate me,” Seokjin murmured, pressing his thumb firmly against Jeongguk’s entrance, as if to test its resistance. Enough, however, to make him thrash and drool at the electric sensation of being touched in such a sensitive place. As Seokjin took him fully into his mouth again, Jeongguk cried out, “Please, Seokjin. I need you to fuck me, please, please,” he begged, his eyes growing ever larger in his face until the combination of Seokjin’s mouth on his cock and the pad of his thumb on his hole turned Jeongguk into a babbling, panting, sloppy mess. Never one to miss a good show, Seokjin pulled off just in time for Jeongguk to come all over his face, pearly white painting his lips and cheeks in dainty patterns.

“Ugh, fuck,” Jeongguk blurted out, his spine going rigid as he rode out the first jolt of extreme, earth-shattering pleasure. Before he really should have been able to form a coherent sentence, Jeongguk was asking Seokjin what he could do for him.

With a cooling wet patch already spreading through his fireproof underwear, Seokjin sheepishly told Jeongguk that things were already taken care of.

“You came in your pants?” Jeongguk snickered. “I seriously made you do that?”

Ears redder than a ripe tomato patch, Seokjin grumbled under his breath. “You’re hot. Get over it.”

Jeongguk threw back his head and laughed delightedly, his body shaking with the force of his mirth. Seokjin made as if to stand up, but Jeongguk wouldn’t let him, pulling the older man down to rest on his lap. Looking deep into Seokjin’s eyes, he uttered, “You know what? I think that’s fucking wonderful. I think you’re fucking wonderful, Kim Seokjin.”

“Jin,” Seokjin murmured. “Call me Jin.”

Jeongguk’s face split into an adorable, sunny smile. “Can I kiss you, Jin?”

Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, Seokjin’s mouth was on his, breathing him in like air.

*****

Perhaps it was the elation of his renewed physical relationship with Seokjin. Perhaps it was the fact that he was coming off an excellent run of form. But Jeongguk was simply untouchable on race day in Hungary. Seokjin, who had joined him on the front row, put up a decent fight for the first ten laps but ultimately had to concede that his teammate had the better pace.

The problem was, Seokjin wasn’t even mad about it. Something that felt rather a lot like pride burned deep in his chest as he watched Jeongguk receive the winner’s trophy later that day. Competitive to a fault, Kim Seokjin had never felt this way about any other racing driver. Never had he allowed his mask to slip that far. And yet, witnessing Jeon Jeongguk standing on the top step of the podium, his bunny-like smile so wonderfully warm, Seokjin’s heart throbbed in a manner that was almost painful.

He’d also noticed that Kim Taehyung had seemed very happy for Jeongguk, high-fiving him the moment they met in the cool down room. Relations seemed to have thawed between those two, then, Seokjin mused. Idly, he wondered how Taehyung’s own mental state was shoring up. He seemed quite able to keep his head down and chip away at the small but significant points gap Seokjin and Jeongguk had opened up on him. Today, they had gained some ground back on him, but for once, Seokjin wasn’t quite as certain that Taehyung would fold. Whatever Taehyung was doing, it was working. Seokjin wondered when he should start to worry about that.

Later, when he was alone in his hotel room for a quick shower before sneaking off to meet Jeongguk, Seokjin’s phone buzzed with yet another missed call. Glowing, smelling sweet and ready to see his lover, Seokjin gave the notification a cursory glance. Seeing the name Father on the screen, he quickly swiped it away. He had absolutely nothing to say to that man.

*****

Slinging a leather jacket over his shoulder, Taehyung glanced in the mirror and gently smoothed his carefully styled hair before deciding that he was fit for purpose. He hadn’t been out on the town in what felt like forever. Frankly, he hadn’t wanted to, much preferring to stay in. Ideally, he’d have been staying in with Jimin, but since Jimin had, of course, rejected his invitation to have another movie night in favour of a video call with his brother, Taehyung decided it was time to throw caution to the wind and get himself out there. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d find someone to take his mind off his performance coach. Not like Jimin would care, anyway…

“So, hyung, are you seeing anyone these days?” Jimin’s younger brother asked, his cheeky, familiar face forming a quizzical look.

Blood immediately rushed to Jimin’s cheeks and he hoped that his brother wouldn’t notice through the screen. “Nah. No time for that in this business,” he mumbled.

His brother, however, wasn’t ready to be brushed off. “Bro, there are a LOT of hot men in Formula 1. Surely you could find someone to hook up with, just something casual?”

“Ew,” Jimin complained. “I am not talking about this with my little brother.”

His brother laughed, a sly look creeping into his eyes. “You know, I always thought you had a crush on Taehyung,” he admitted.

Jimin blanched and went rigid. “What?!”

“Hyung, come on. I’m straight, but even I can see that he’s a total hottie. And you two work together so closely. Especially now that you’re travelling with him… Jimin, my big bro, I’ll say this only once so don’t expect to hear it from me ever again. But you are not terrible-looking yourself. And your personality is kind of bearable. Sometimes you’re even funny. Are you sure there’s nothing between you and Taehyung? Sometimes when I’m watching the race weekends on TV I see him looking at you and it doesn’t appear to be entirely platonic,” his brother finished.

“God, not this again,” Jimin muttered. “Why is everyone so convinced that Taehyung is into me?” he blurted out. He should have known immediately that his brother wasn’t letting that one go.

“Oh, hyung! I knew you were holding out on me,” he crowed. “Who else thinks so, hmm?”

“Nobody,” Jimin grumbled. “Well, only Hoseok-“

“Hoseok. As in, your friend since forever, Hoseok. As in, the one who always sniffed out budding relationships before anything happened, Hoseok. Seems to me like you should be listening to him.”

“No!” Jimin shouted. “Getting involved with Kim Taehyung is a terrible idea. We work together. And besides, he doesn’t like me in that way,” he declared. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s late and I need to get some sleep,” he finished, hoping desperately that his brother wasn’t aware that it was only 10pm in Central Europe. Well, Jimin didn’t know what time it was in Houston, so it was possible that his brother was equally clueless.

“Fine,” his brother replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s been great talking to you, big bro. Even if you won’t admit your own feelings,” he teased. “Let’s do this again soon.”

“Yeah, let’s,” Jimin replied warmly. Despite the typical sibling niggles, he was enormously fond of his younger brother and did actually enjoy their conversations.

Just as he was about to hang up, the doorbell to his room chimed. “I better go,” Jimin said hastily. “Someone’s at the door. I’m not expecting anyone, but I’d better get it.”

“OK, hyung. Stay safe and be well,” his brother farewelled Jimin, ending the call.

Scrambling to his feet, Jimin almost hit the deck as his left foot had gone to sleep while he’d been on call with his brother. He hobbled to the door and opened it a crack, peering out suspiciously.

“Jimin. Grazie a Dio.”

Domi?

In shock, Jimin undid the chain on the door and opened it fully. “Domi! What are you doing here? Come in, come in,” he insisted, hoping her English was up to the task.

Clearly, Domi had been practicing, because she replied slowly but clearly, “Hello, Jimin. I am here in Budapest for a modelling contract and I run into – scusi, ran into Taehyung at a bar in Király Street. He is very drunk, Jimin. Very drunk,” she explained breathlessly.

“What’s that got to do with me?” Jimin replied belligerently.

Domi rolled her eyes. “You still do not get it, do you? Stai mettendo alla prova la mia pazienza,” she muttered under her breath. “Jimin, I worry for Taehyung. He is rich and sexy, but not always careful. There are bad people around here, maybe someone will put something in his drink and try things with him,” she confided. Placing her perfectly manicured hands on Jimin’s shoulders, she looked him deep in the eyes. “You are the only person he will listen to, Jimin,” she explained. “Please come with me and get him out of there.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jimin looked at Domi suspiciously. “But why do you care? You’re the one who dumped him by leaving a note,” he drawled, lip curling up in distaste.

“Per l'amor del cielo,” Domi said, throwing her hands up theatrically. “Do you know why, Jimin? Why I had to do that to TaeTae?”

Frowning, Jimin retorted, “If you have such a good reason I’d love to hear it.”

Domi laughed mirthlessly. “Finalmente lo chiede. OK, Jimin. I’ll tell you.”

Jimin waited, placing his hands on his hips impatiently.

“Jimin, he never loved me. How do I know that? Perché è te che ama – because it is you he loves,” she admitted, tears springing into her dark, impeccably lined eyes. “I had to set him free.”

The floor under Jimin’s feet must have been unsteady, because suddenly, he found it difficult to keep his balance. Fortunately, Domi was there to catch him. Snapping a finger in front of his face, she barked, “Jimin. Are you coming? We need to go right now.”

“OK,” Jimin replied, fully back in the room. “Lead the way.”

Sitting in the back of a taxi with Domi, Jimin stared out the window. As lights rushed past him, he registered nothing except the constant presence of Taehyung’s face in his mind. Taehyung loves me, he thought in wonder. He loves… me?

The next thing he knew, Domi was grabbing him by the hand and dragging him out of the taxi and into a dimly-let cocktail bar. Tottering on her skyscraper heels, Domi worked her way through the crowd with Jimin close behind until they’d reached the very back of the bar where Taehyung sat in the centre of a booth, surrounded by a group of hungry-looking men and women all leering at him as they plied him with shot after brightly coloured shot.

“Taehyung!” Jimin couldn’t stop himself from crying out.

“Oh hell, I must be dreaming,” Taehyung drawled in Korean. “’Cause there’s no way that Jimin is here,” he explained to the woman next to him, who looked rather Hungarian and entirely bewildered. “And oh my God that woman looks like my ex-girlfriend, what the fuck,” he added in an undertone.

“Taehyung,” Jimin panted, shoving his way through the people crowding around, and ignoring the filthy looks he was drawing from them. “I need you to come with me.”

“ ‘S just a dream,” Taehyung explained indecipherably to his new acquaintances. “I love him, but he doesn’t love me back, so there’s no way he’s actually here.”

Hearing those words directly from Taehyung’s lips very nearly floored Jimin. But he could think about that later. Right now, he needed to get Taehyung out of there and get some food and water into him. “Taehyung-ah,” he said gently. “We’ve got to go. Hold on to my arm, OK?”

“OK, Jimin,” Taehyung agreed dreamily. “Whatever you say. Hey, I can tell you that your ass looks delicious in those trousers. Because none of this is really happening,” he giggled, leaning heavily on Jimin’s shoulder. “Damn, the things I would do to that ass…” Taehyung bit down hard on his lip.

Jimin’s face and neck burned so red-hot he was certain he could be seen from space. Sheepishly, he glanced over at Domi, who was walking carefully behind. “Sorry,” he mouthed.

“I am over it. But clearly he is not over you,” she replied pointedly. After they’d managed to load Taehyung into the back of a taxi, Domi paused. “I will leave you now,” she said quietly. “I wish you happiness, Jimin. I hope you can let him love you,” she added, slightly choked up. Leaning in, she kissed Jimin on the cheek and stepped back. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Domi. I wish you happiness too.”

Jimin climbed into the taxi beside Taehyung, his heart aching for Domi as they drove into the night.

Halfway back to the hotel, Taehyung stirred, opening one eye. “Jimin?” he asked. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me, Taehyung,” Jimin sighed. “We’re almost back at the hotel now. You’ll eat and drink something and then you’ll go to sleep,” he told the near-comatose racing driver.

“K,” Taehyung uttered, his eyes fluttering closed once more. “Here you are, saving me again.”

Praying that nobody would be around to see him piggy-backing Taehyung up to his room, Jimin carefully stepped into the hotel lobby. Once he’d noted that the coast was clear, he headed directly for the elevator. “Taehyung, where’s your room key?” Jimin asked, hoping Taehyung would be coherent enough to answer him.

“Front left pocket. ‘S where I always keep it,” he drawled, tightening his arms around Jimin’s shoulders.

Once they’d reached Taehyung’s door, Jimin gently lowered him to the ground. With a sense of déjà vu, he reached into Taehyung’s pocket for the key.

“Ooh, I like it when you do that,” Taehyung drawled suggestively. Suddenly, he seemed much more awake.

“You smell like candied vomit,” Jimin retorted, shuddering at the sugary yet sour smell emanating from Taehyung’s mouth. With a frustrated grunt, he pushed the door open. “Get in,” he ordered, the déjà vu returning with a vengeance.

“Jimin,” Taehyung uttered softly. Stepping forward, he engulfed Jimin in a back hug, tenderly caressing the backs of his hands and burying his nose in the soft hair at his nape. “I might regret this tomorrow. But I need you to know. I’m in love with you,” he murmured, voice cracking around the words.

“You’re drunk,” Jimin replied flatly.

“Doesn’t matter,” Taehyung rumbled. “I could be drunk, high, completely fuckin’ delirious and still I’d say the same thing. Cause it doesn’t matter what I do, my feelings for you don’t change,” he admitted.

“Taehyung, I don’t know what to say,” Jimin replied softly.

And yet, Taehyung noticed through the alcohol-induced fog, Jimin leaned back a little into his hold.

“I need some time to think about this, what it means for me. For us,” Jimin admitted, squeezing Taehyung’s hand. “We should talk about this when we’re both sober,” he added sharply. “Come on, I’ll make you some ramyeon.”

Meekly, Taehyung followed Jimin inside.

Later, he begged with huge, sad eyes for Jimin to feed him. Realising it was the only way he’d ensure there was some food in Taehyung’s stomach, Jimin grudgingly agreed and soon enough the bowl of ramyeon was empty.

“There you go,” Jimin soothed, holding a large glass of water up to Taehyung’s lips and rubbing his back as he gulped it down. “All of it, that’s right. Now let’s get you to bed.”

“I’ll only go to bed if you stay with me,” Taehyung pouted.

Jimin’s stomach lurched. He should have known Taehyung would be like this. He was always clingy when he’d been drinking, and with the added revelation tonight had brought, Jimin wasn’t sure he’d be able to cope with that. Jimin needed time to process what he was no longer able to ignore. Time to decide what was the best thing, if anything, to do about it. But Kim Taehyung wasn’t making that easy for him.

“Please, Jimin. Stay,” he implored, grasping at Jimin’s wrist.

Holy shit, his hands are so much bigger than mine, Jimin thought. And so is the rest of him, his brain helpfully added. Knowing he’d probably regret it in the morning, but no longer having the strength to resist, Jimin sighed, “All right, I’ll stay.”

Taehyung’s beaming smile seemed to light up the entire room. “There’s a spare toothbrush you can use. It’s in my bag, but can you get it? ‘M not sure bending down is the best idea,” Taehyung slurred, the alcohol clearly catching up with him once more.

Rolling his eyes, Jimin helped Taehyung into the bathroom then wandered into his bedroom to retrieve the toothbrush. Having quickly found it, he was about to join Taehyung in the bathroom when something on the bedside table caught his eye.

A framed photo of himself, his eyes drawn up into crescent moons and head thrown back in laughter. Taehyung brought this with him? Kept it beside his bed? The storm in Jimin’s heart began to rage anew as that knowledge settled into his consciousness. Shaking his head, Jimin strode into the bathroom. “Tae?” he called, surprised to see Taehyung slumped on the closed toilet seat, head in hands. “Why aren’t you brushing your teeth?”

“Cause it’s better with you. Everything’s better with you,” he whined, firmly wrapping his arms around Jimin’s midsection and attempting to bury his head in his stomach.

Sighing internally, Jimin disentangled himself from Taehyung’s hold and helped him to his feet. Once they’d managed to brush their teeth, Jimin led Taehyung to the bed, averting his eyes as he changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt and climbed beneath the covers.

“I’ll just grab a blanket from the closet and sleep on the couch,” he said. “If you need me I’ll be right there in the next room, OK?”

“No,” Taehyung grumbled. “Not OK. Sleep here next to me,” he pleaded, his large eyes appealing desperately to Jimin’s better nature.

“Taehyung-“

“I meant it when I said I’m at my best when you’re around,” he said quietly.

It was at that moment that Jimin realised they were holding hands. When did that happen? They still had so much to talk about… But realistically, what could it hurt for him to sleep here? At least if Taehyung needed him during the night, he’d be closer than the living room.

“Get one of my t-shirts out to sleep in. It’ll probably come down to your knees,” Taehyung teased, his words becoming clearer by the moment. Hopefully his hangover wouldn’t be too apocalyptic come the morning.

“Yah, Kim Taehyung!” Jimin shot back, shaking his head. Even in this state, Taehyung was an irredeemable tease. Still, he wandered over to the suitcase and picked out a soft, plain t-shirt in dark green cotton. Taehyung had been right, it did fall hallway down to his knees. Jimin blushed as he remembered seeing the same shirt on Taehyung a few weeks ago. It had been a perfectly normal length on him, of course. But it was comfortable, and Jimin was tired after all the excitement of the evening. Glancing at the clock, he noticed that it was 1am.

“Sleep now,” he whispered to Taehyung as he slid under the covers. “We’ll be flying back to Korea in the morning.”

“ ‘Night, J’min,” Taehyung murmured, already half asleep.

Jimin didn’t even flinch as Taehyung draped an arm over him, pulling him close.

*****

Seokjin was filled with regret as he boarded his private plane back to Seoul. He’d agreed to share with his old friend Lee Jinki on this particular leg. However, he knew that he’d spend the entire ten hour flight wishing he’d travelled with Jeongguk. They’d actually been on a date, of sorts, last night. Well, Seokjin had agreed to let Jeongguk take him out for a drink in a private room at a very exclusive bar. Of course, they’d ended up making out. Seokjin had Jeongguk pressed against the wall, one knee shoved between his legs when the sound of a clearing throat had shocked them apart.

“Excuse me, sirs, but we are closing,” the staff member had told them kindly. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us,” he’d winked, following up by ordering them a cab back to their hotel. Given the amount of money Jeongguk had paid for their privacy, Seokjin certainly hoped the man would keep his mouth shut. Closing his eyes, he attempted to sleep away the flight. At least it would help to pass the time.

Hoseok, crammed into his economy seat on an over-full flight, popped a sleeping tablet, desperately searching for some sweet relief from the nightmare he was currently living. Both Yoongi and Namjoon were insisting nothing was wrong – well, Yoongi was insisting nothing new was wrong – but still, neither of them had given him the time of day in Budapest. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, Hoseok retrieved his sleep mask from the seat pocket and dipped out for a few hours. Just before he surrendered to sleep, he wondered vaguely where Yoongi was, as he hadn’t seen him at the boarding gate.

“Cheers,” Yoongi clinked his glass of champagne with Namjoon’s as their chartered jet reached cruising altitude.

“Thanks for agreeing to fly with me, Yoongi,” Namjoon said quietly. “It’s really the best place for us to talk undisturbed.”

Yoongi smirked. “Honestly, I’m so devastated not to be flying on a commercial airliner back to Incheon,” he quipped. “You’ll have to make it up to me next time.”

Namjoon couldn’t hold back his laughter. Yoongi’s quick wit had been a wonderful surprise as he’d spent more time getting to know him. Though they’d worked side by side for years and held each other in the highest of mutual respect, they had never really spent any time together until recently. And while it wasn’t exactly the happiest of circumstances for either of them, Namjoon had to admit that he was grateful for the opportunity to get to know Min Yoongi better.

While they did, indeed, talk about Hoseok – namely, how they were going to handle his betrayal of them both – much of the flight was spent in easy companionship. Namjoon reflected, as they touched down in Incheon, that he hadn’t laughed so much in a good long while.

And now, their plan was really taking shape.

Taehyung flung himself through the door of his mansion, leaving his suitcase in the hallway and heading directly for the sofa and his pile of pillows. Pouting, he flopped directly on to it, covering himself in a soft cotton blanket. Never mind that it was thirty-two degrees Celsius outside, Taehyung needed comfort. His head still throbbed from the hangover he’d definitely earned in Budapest, and not only that, there was a gap in his memory that was at least four hours long.

When he’d woken up in his Budapest hotel, he’d been shocked to find Jimin in bed with him. Wearing one of Taehyung’s t-shirts! Horrified at what kind of stunt he must have pulled in order to make any of that happen, he worriedly checked if he was wearing underwear (he was, that was a relief) and dragged his rather sorry self out of bed and into the shower. By the time he’d emerged, Jimin was gone. However, a note had been tucked under his pillow:

Taehyung,

I hope you’re feeling OK this morning. I ordered you some hangover soup, it should arrive soon.

I’ll meet you in the lobby at 10.45 so we can head to the airport together, OK?

Jimin

As he finished reading, the doorbell rang. Aha, his soup. Taehyung slurped it down, feeling somewhat better when he’d devoured the lot. With nothing better to do, he packed his things and scrolled through his phone until it was time to meet Jimin.

“Good morning, Taehyung,” Jimin uttered shyly as they reconvened in the lobby.

Wait. Was Jimin… blushing? Taehyung was immediately even more curious about what had happened last night. Perhaps he should just be honest about having forgotten… but that could wait until they were on the flight back home. For now, he’d just be nice. Not that it was difficult to be nice to Jimin. “Let me take your suitcase,” he insisted, walking both their bags behind himself to their waiting taxi.

“Oh,” Jimin had uttered, his cheeks deepening in colour. “Thank you, Taehyung.”

Silence lay thickly in the air of the taxi. Jimin was staring out the window as Taehyung surreptitiously stared at him. Something was different, of that, Taehyung was certain. But what exactly had happened last night to cause it?

“Did you sleep well, Jimin?” Taehyung asked softly.

Jimin almost jumped out of his skin.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” Taehyung offered, giving him a small smile. “I just wanted to know how you slept.”

The blush on Jimin’s cheeks blossomed still further. “Uh. I slept fine, thank you,” he muttered. “How about you?”

Taehyung laughed darkly. “I slept fine. It was waking up that was the unpleasant part,” he admitted. “My head is still sore.”

Jimin’s lips quirked. “You probably deserve that,” he teased. Turning back to the window, he made it quite clear that the conversation was over for the time being.

Of course, Taehyung had hoped to talk with Jimin on the plane. But Jimin had made his excuses and slumped off to a further away seat to ‘catch up on sleep’. Although, every time Taehyung snuck a glance at him, he was staring vacantly out of the window.

He’d had no more luck once they arrived in Korea. Instead of accepting Taehyung’s offer of sharing a taxi, Jimin had insisted he’d take the subway home. Knowing it was useless to try to change Jimin’s mind once it was set on something, Taehyung had sadly waved him off.

Now, here he was, in his ridiculous nest of pillows and blankets desperately wishing for his memories to come back.

*****

With almost a month until the next race, many of the drivers used the mid-season break to go on holiday, de-stress, or catch up on other life admin tasks that had eluded them during the busy times. Seokjin, however, spent most of the time thinking about Jeongguk. Namely, when he could next see him, feel his hard, delicious body pressed up against his own. They hadn’t got to fucking, yet – though it was only a matter of time, really – but Seokjin found himself lying awake at night imagining in great detail how it would feel to finally get inside Jeongguk, feel him clenching around his cock. Closer than close, intimately intertwined. He’d thought about it the other way around, too. Seokjin was versatile. He didn’t yet know whether Jeongguk was, but honestly? It didn’t matter. The desperation to be with his lover utterly consumed Seokjin to the point that it was difficult to think about anything else.

Jeongguk, however, wasn’t around. He’d finally managed to convince his mother to go on a trip to Hawaii with him, and so he would be away until two weeks before the resumption of racing. They had reluctantly agreed that it would be best if they didn’t contact each other until they were back in the same place, as it would only complicate matters. Thus Seokjin was gobsmacked when halfway through the second week of Jeongguk’s vacation, a text from him popped up.

Jeon Jeongguk (20.15):

I miss you 🥺

The excitement that bubbled in Seokjin’s stomach was almost too much to bear. He let out an extremely undignified shriek and began jumping up and down on the spot. Oh, he realised, I’d better text him back.

Kim Seokjin (20.17)

I miss you too 😘

Jeon Jeongguk (20.18):

Can I call you?

Without bothering to respond, Seokjin pressed the call button. Jeongguk answered immediately, breathlessly.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“It’s been a week and a half and I’m not coping,” Jeongguk admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Seokjin groaned. “I’m in the same situation,” he admitted.

“Oh?” Jeongguk answered, a spark of interest clear in his voice. “Wanna tell me what exactly you’ve been thinking about?”

Laughing, Seokjin replied, “Are you sure? It’s not exactly PG-rated.”

“Jin, it’s almost 1.30 in the morning here and I can’t sleep. My mother is safely in her own hotel room and I’m here alone. I was kind of hoping it wouldn’t be PG-rated, if I’m honest,” Jeongguk retorted.

Was that a tiny moan Seokjin heard through the phone?

“Guk, are you touching yourself?”

“-ngh, what makes you say that?” Jeongguk replied, his voice sounding more and more strained.

“Because you sound like you’re getting fucked. And I’m not there, so I certainly hope you're not.”

“What if you were?” Jeongguk murmured, a tiny, high whine lacing his next out breath. “What would you do to me if you were here?”

Seokjin gulped. Were they really doing this? I might as well get into it, he thought, shoving down his sweatpants and boxers and taking his cock in hand. Lowering his voice, he purred, “First, I would kiss you all over. Enjoy the way you tremble under my lips, the little sounds you’d make as I taste you.”

“Oh God,” Jeongguk uttered, his breathing becoming faster.

“After that,” Seokjin added, “I would use my hands to map all the places I’d kissed, listening carefully for the most sensitive spots that make your breath hitch. I wouldn’t touch your cock, not at first. I’d kiss you all around the base of it, kneading your ass in my hands. And then, I’d spread you open, use my tongue to wet your tight little hole just enough to get the first finger inside.” The very thought had Seokjin’s cock lurching in his hand, and he let out a moan that would have been embarrassing in any other circumstances.

“You’re touching yourself too? Fuck, that’s so hot,” Jeongguk panted.

“You think I can talk like this and not have one hand on my dick? Sheesh,” Seokjin joked lamely. “Anyway, where was I?”

“Using your t-tongue,” Jeongguk stuttered. “On my hole. And putting your fingers inside me.”

“Oh, baby,” Seokjin moaned. “God, I wanna taste you right now. I’d do it so thoroughly, you know. Get my tongue right up inside of you while my fingers open you up even more. And then, when you’re begging for me, I’d lube myself up and slide right in, hitting every single one of your most sensitive places. I’d hold you tight as I fucked into you so, so slowly, making sure you feel every millimetre of the drag. Finally, when you’re falling apart underneath me, I’d wrap my hand around your big, thick cock. And then, you’d-“

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m coming,” Jeongguk interrupted him, keening high and loud. The sound of him, the very idea of Jeongguk getting off to Seokjin’s voice was enough to send him right over the edge too.  

After the panting and moaning was over, Seokjin let out a deep, satisfied exhale. “How do you feel now, Guk? Think you can sleep?”

“Mm,” Jeongguk replied dozily. “Just wish you were here to hold me, that’s all.”

There it was again, that feeling that Seokjin didn’t recognise. A confusing combination of excitement and pain, perhaps? “I wish that too, Guk,” he admitted.

“When we’re together again, I want you to fuck me for real,” Jeongguk drawled, his voice fading away into sleepiness.

“You can count on it,” Seokjin replied. “Baby, I think you need to sleep. I’m going to let you go now, OK?”

“OK, Jin. Miss you,” he said quietly.

“Miss you too,” Seokjin breathed, ending the call.

No matter which way he looked at it, Seokjin was a fool for Jeon Jeongguk.

*****

“Yoongi-yah, please,” Hoseok begged into his phone, desperate to convince Yoongi to see him.

“I told you, Hoba, I’m staying firm until I see a change in your behaviour. That hasn’t happened, so we don’t hook up. It’s simple, really.”

“But I’m desperate-“

“Do you think I give a flying fuck if you’re desperate? Go jerk off. Buy yourself a nice big sparkly dildo or something. Just quit bothering me, OK?”

“But Yoongi-“

Hoseok paused. Yoongi had hung up.

Calling Namjoon had yielded no fruit, either.

“Sorry, Hoba, I just have so many meetings right now. I can’t even make time to eat, let alone… well, you know,” he had said apologetically.

Grimly, Hoseok opened a new private tab on his web browser and began comparing the merits of various toys. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

*****

For the tenth time, Jimin checked his hair in the mirror before finally deciding that it wasn’t going to get any better. Also, he realised that if he didn’t leave now, he was going to be late for the first training session he’d scheduled with Taehyung since Budapest. And that would be simply unacceptable. He may have harboured many and varied unprofessional thoughts about his driver, that was true – but still, it wouldn’t do to allow his work ethic to suffer. Jimin had stood firm, refusing to allow himself to see Taehyung during the two week break they’d built into their schedule. Of course, Taehyung had been texting him, inviting him to various parties, outings, and private movie nights at his mansion. Jimin had never been to Taehyung’s mansion before, and he wasn’t planning to until whatever was going on between them had been resolved. There had barely been a moment over the past two weeks that Jimin hadn’t thought about him, however. Taehyung’s smile popped into his head at the most ridiculous times. His rich, honey-dipped voice seemed to whisper in Jimin’s ear near-constantly. Worst of all was the vivid memory of the back hug Taehyung had given him on that fateful night in Budapest. The warmth of him, the heavy yet comforting weight. The words that had left Taehyung’s lips, telling Jimin of the love he felt for him.

Finally, Jimin had to admit to himself that it was true. Taehyung did love him. Hoseok and Domi were right, and there was no point denying it any longer. After much thought and self-denial, Jimin was finally able to admit that he, too, had feelings for Taehyung that extended beyond pure physical attraction. But Jimin was now faced with a different problem: Taehyung didn’t remember having confessed.

And Jimin was far too shy to bring it up.

Pushing open the door to the gym, Jimin was surprised to see Taehyung already there and warming up.

“Hey, Jimin,” he drawled. “I brought you something.” Straightening up, he wandered over to his bag and retrieved a sweet, pistachio-filled croissant. “Thought you might be hungry.”

Jimin’s treacherous stomach growled as the scent of fresh baked goods hit his nose. “I am, thank you, Taehyung,” he said shyly, feeling his cheeks colour. Already? he thought darkly.

“Eat,” Taehyung urged him. “I’ll finish my warmup and then we can get started.”

As the sweet, flaky pastry hit his tongue, Jimin almost moaned in relief. Catching himself, he noticed Taehyung’s eyes on him.

“Good?”

“Delicious,” Jimin replied.

Though they hadn’t seen each other in two weeks, Taehyung and Jimin fell into their usual practiced rhythm and soon enough, the training session was over. Half expecting Taehyung to invite him to lunch or something, Jimin was surprised when the driver simply said goodbye and left. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Taehyung had said, grinning and sending Jimin a mock-salute.

Over the next two weeks, Taehyung worked harder than ever before, both physically and mentally. His muscular strength increased alongside his mental fortitude, leaving Jimin thoroughly impressed with his progress.

“If you can unlock this kind of potential in races, Taehyung, I don’t think anyone will be able to stop you,” he’d remarked, gazing at Taehyung in an awestruck manner.

After what had felt like far longer than four weeks, they boarded their plane toward the Netherlands. Jimin had brought a novel with him, but Taehyung planned to spend most of his time sleeping. Sure enough, once they’d reached cruising altitude, Jimin was absorbed in his book and Taehyung felt his eyes beginning to droop. Vivid dreams wracked his slumber, jolting him in and out of wakefulness. One dream, however, wouldn’t leave him alone. Taehyung was in the back room of a bar, surrounded by beautiful people, when Domi and Jimin suddenly arrived. Taehyung heard himself utter the words, “I love him, but he doesn’t love me back, so there’s no way he’s actually here.” Even in his semi-conscious state, Taehyung was relieved that this was only a dream. But then, an even more vivid image overtook him, accompanied by a sensation of pure, sweet warmth. He was hugging Jimin from behind, caressing his hands and telling him that he loved him. That no matter what state he was in, his feelings didn’t change. It was only as Taehyung jolted awake, sitting fully upright, that he realised it hadn’t been a dream after all.

It was a memory.

Immediately, his eyes swivelled to Jimin, who was fast asleep with his head lolling against the wall of the plane. He knows, Taehyung realised. He knows I’m in love with him, and he’s still here. Did that mean- could that mean that there was hope? Could Jimin possibly love Taehyung, too? The very possibility sent showers of sparks through all of Taehyung’s nerve endings, making it impossible for him to sit still. Impulsively, he sprang from his seat and wandered over to Jimin. He looked so young, so innocent with his tiny hands clenched into fists and his face so sweet in repose. But he must be cold, though… Taehyung immediately grabbed a blanket and oh-so-carefully covered Jimin with it, desperate not to wake him. For good measure, he gently cradled Jimin’s head and placed a pillow between it and the cold, hard wall he’d been leaning against.

“Taehyung-ah,” Jimin murmured sleepily. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Jimin,” he whispered. As he ambled back to his own seat, Taehyung wondered whether he had imagined the happy little smile on Jimin’s plump lips.

*****

Circuit Zandvoort, North Holland, The Netherlands

Jeongguk wondered whether it was possible to acquire a repetitive strain injury from having too much sex. Ever since he’d returned from Hawaii, he and Seokjin had been going at it whenever and wherever they could manage. Usually in discreet hotels, because they didn’t want to be seen at each other’s residences if they could help it. But there had been one time when they had been utterly, painfully desperate and none of the usual options had been available. Throwing all caution to the wind, Jeongguk had invited Seokjin to his modest apartment. Far from the lavish luxury The King was used to, he nevertheless didn’t spare a thought for his surroundings as he pounded Jeongguk into the mattress, over and over until they were both crying out in ecstasy. They’d have to cool it this weekend, he knew, because work was more important than getting off. But oh, how he was intoxicated by Seokjin. Perhaps one day it would wane, but that wasn’t happening any time soon.

Unsurprisingly, neither of the Silver Bullets drivers were on their best form that weekend. Seokjin was, perhaps, slightly better off than Jeongguk. Largely due to his experience. Kim Taehyung, however, seemed to be riding high on a wave of something or other and he effortlessly topped every single session, including qualifying, capping it off with an electric pole position and new lap record.

Only Taehyung knew what had changed within him to make all of that possible.

Sunday dawned bright and clear. The race itself proved quite straightforward, too – Taehyung managed a brilliant start, shot off into the distance and controlled the race from there. No accidents or safety cars marred his flawless drive, no other car managed to get within range for the drag reduction system. From a spectator’s point of view, it might have been a boring race. But for Taehyung, every lap felt like a celebration of the fact that his life was finally falling into place. On the podium, as the grand strains of the Korean national anthem bled into the jauntiness of the Italian, Taehyung’s smile threatened to split his entire face open. He was finally standing on the top step again. Joy spread warmly through his body, amplified by the buzz of the champagne. His heart almost exploded in his chest, however, when he looked down to see Jimin standing amongst the crowd, cheering his name. I love you, Taehyung’s heart cried. What he wouldn’t give to rush down and cradle Jimin in his arms right now… But it wasn’t the right time for that. Not yet.

On the short flight between The Netherlands and Milan, Yoongi and Namjoon celebrated another double podium for the team.

“Regardless of what I think of him, personally, I have to admit that Hoseok is doing a good job training both Seokjin and Jeongguk,” Yoongi mused. “They don’t seem to have had any problems with each other in quite a while.”

Namjoon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That’s true,” he admitted. “They actually seem to be getting along rather well. I wonder what’s precipitated that?”

“No idea,” Yoongi murmured. “But whatever it is, they should keep doing it.”

Seventy-four minutes. That’s how long it had been between the end of the race and the moment that Jeongguk slid down on Seokjin’s thick cock, feeling a sense of pure elation as they were joined together once more. “I can’t get enough of you,” he panted, circling his hips so that he could feel every drag against his inner walls. “God, Jin, please fuck me,” he begged, clutching at Seokjin’s biceps as the older man lay beneath him.

“As you wish, Guk,” Seokjin replied, flipping them over and giving him precisely what he’d asked for.

Autodromo Nazionale Monza, Monza, Italy

Red was certainly the prevailing colour at the Italian Grand Prix. Everywhere one looked, spectators were dressed head to toe in it, many with the famous wild horse logo. The vast majority of the Stallions supporters’ t-shirts bore the name of Kim Taehyung. Still, there was a small but solid faction of Vernon Chwe fans who were not to be ignored. Chants of “Grande, Taehyung, Grande!” echoed throughout the grandstands from the very first practice session on Friday. Their man certainly did not disappoint. Fresh from his win at Zandvoort, Taehyung soared into an effortless first place in all three practice sessions. The trembling spark of tender love that he carried in his chest, protecting it from the harsh light of the world, had spurred him on to reach heights of achievement he’d never before thought possible.

If I can’t do this for myself, I can certainly do it for Jimin, Taehyung told himself as he looked in the mirror on Qualifying Saturday. There was not a grain of doubt in his mind, not a single negative voice. Lap after lap passed by, and Taehyung was the fastest after every one. By the time the third qualifying session began, there was no doubt in the crowd’s minds who was going to take pole position that day. After the first laps had been completed, Taehyung sat comfortably on provisional pole, with Kim Seokjin second and Vernon sneaking past Jeon Jeongguk to take third.

Gearing up for his final hot lap, Taehyung gritted his teeth and set his focus high. Flying through Prima Variante, the mask came down and stayed there. It wasn’t until he’d reached Parabolica, almost at the end of the lap, that he even paused for thought. Crossing the line to the roar of the crowd, Taehyung knew he’d beaten everyone else. Simply put, how could it have been any other way? “Kim Taehyung, POLE POSITION” flashed up on the trackside screens by way of confirmation.

Taehyung’s elated grin turned to horror as the screens flashed up something he really didn’t want to see.

“CORRECTION. Kim Seokjin, POLE POSITION.”

“What the actual fuck?” Taehyung spat over the radio to Hyungsik.

“I know you were in the zone, Tae, but did you really not see the yellow flags on either the track or your dashboard?” Hyungsik asked. “Kai Huening went off the track, had a bit of a wander around and came back on. But there were yellows, and you didn’t obey them.”

“FUCK!” Taehyung yelled. “I cannot fucking believe it. I was on top the WHOLE WEEKEND and now this?”

Hyungsik sighed. “Look, Tae, it could be worse, We’ve just received confirmation from the stewards that you’ll receive a three-place grid penalty. Starting in P4 isn’t so bad. You can overtake around here.”

“You’re damn right I can, and I will,” Taehyung muttered. “Well, I guess there’s no press conference for me.”

Once he’d parked the car, Taehyung strode off to his driver room and slammed the door shut. There was only one person he had any desire to talk to. Just as he was about to send a text, there was a knock on the door.

“Taehyung?” Jimin’s soft voice called. “You can tell me if you want me to go away- Oh!” Jimin added abruptly as Taehyung flung open the door.

“Don’t go away,” he pleaded, eyes burning with fierce intensity. “I want you to stay.” Grabbing Jimin by the wrist, Taehyung led him over to the sofa.

“Do you want me to do a guided meditation, or a visualisation? Or do you just want to talk it out?” Jimin asked gently.

“None of those,” Taehyung said flatly. “Can you just… I don’t know, sit here with me?” Tentatively, afraid that Jimin would freak out and run away, Taehyung laced their fingers together.

Jimin’s chest tightened and he found it difficult to breathe. Eyes widening, he gazed at Taehyung.

“Is this OK, Jimin? Be honest with me if it isn’t,” Taehyung whispered, glancing down at their intertwined hands.

Jimin didn’t know whether it was Taehyung’s shy, tender smile, the softness of his voice, or whether it was down to the simple feeling of coming home after far too long being away. But, somehow, the tightness in his chest dissipated, to be replaced by warmth and a tingling excitement. Eyes softening, he smiled back, squeezing Taehyung’s hand. “Yeah. It’s OK,” he answered.

*****

Race day at Monza. The biggest day in the Formula 1 calendar for the Stallions team, with the crowd bearing their colours and shouting their drivers’ names. Not, perhaps, the ideal way to start the race, with Vernon in P2 and Taehyung in P4, but they would manage. The King was his usual imperious self as the cars formed up on the grid, making everyone slow down on the formation lap until they were barely moving. What is he playing at? Taehyung wondered, mildly grateful that it was Jeon Jeongguk just ahead of him and not his teammate. While he certainly intended to overtake His Majesty, he could do with watching him first and figuring out what tricks he had up his sleeve.

As the five red lights flicked off, Taehyung focused only on driving around Jeongguk. Coming up to Prima Variante, cars splayed all over the track, including Jeongguk himself. Taehyung was able to hold his line and sail on past as Jeongguk had to take to the escape road, narrowly missing one of the bollards in the process. By the end of the first lap, Taehyung had climbed to second place after a spectacular overtake on Vernon at the final chicane. With fifty-two laps to go, he only had one driver left to overtake.

Unfortunately for Taehyung, that one driver was Kim Seokjin. Despite clinging to the back of The King’s Silver Bullet, Taehyung simply could not find a single weak point to exploit. Kim Seokjin is a three-time world champion for good reason, he reminded himself. There would, in a normal race at Monza, only be one pit stop. So if Taehyung wanted to undercut Seokjin he’d have to time it perfectly. Far better, he mused, to do the overtake on track instead.

“Box, Taehyung, Box,” Hyungsik called on lap 25. “Seokjin is going to have to come in soon, surely his tyres are shredded.”

“Hmm, they look all right from where I’m sitting,” Taehyung replied. “But still, I’ll come in.”

One flawless stop later, Taehyung was back out in second place. His heart sank when, a lap later, His Majesty emerged back into the lead. He hadn’t managed to widen the gap, though, which was a small mercy. If Taehyung could keep some juice in his tyres, he’d have a better chance of overtaking late in the race. Vernon’s challenge had faded, and he was managing to keep Jeon behind him, so Taehyung didn’t have to worry about that.

All of his focus could go toward the undoing of the man in front of him.

The laps counted down. Taehyung was beginning to wonder if he’d simply run out of time. Kim Seokjin was simply unflappable, too good to rattle. It was only on lap fifty-one that Taehyung began to notice the cracks in Seokjin’s composure. The King was going a little wide on tighter corners, suggesting an issue with understeer possibly caused by worn tyres. Taehyung had done his usual trick and managed to keep a little extra life in his own hard tyres. Now was the time to take advantage of it.

Soaring over the start/finish line for the penultimate time, Taehyung clung to the back of Seokjin’s Silver Bullet as they approached the first corner. Utilising every last bit of the impeccable car control that had some people dubbing him an alien, Taehyung slipped his car down the inside of Seokjin’s at the corner, just managing to be ahead right at the apex. Precisely where he needed to be ahead. Seokjin could do nothing but concede. The crowd rose to their feet, the roars absolutely deafening as Taehyung used the little bit of extra tyre life he’d saved to flit off into the distance. While winning at Monaco had been spectacular, there had been no greater moment in Kim Taehyung’s racing career than winning at Monza in a Stallion. Crossing the finish line, Taehyung sobbed his heart out. “Grazie, ragazzi. Forza Stallioni!” he managed to say once he’d calmed down a little. Hearing the chants of “Grande, Taehyung, Grande!” ricocheting off the corners of the track was a moment he would never, ever forget. The moment he’d parked his car in the number one position, Taehyung almost flew out of the cockpit and into the waiting arms of Seojoon and Hyungsik, who could barely contain their excitement. Naturally, his eyes were drawn to Jimin, standing at the back of the Stallions contingent, smiling so widely his eyes had almost disappeared. Taehyung was consumed by endearment so strong it was almost painful. Surreptitiously, he sent Jimin a tiny finger heart gesture. His actual heart leapt in his chest when Jimin sent one right back.

The podium celebration and post-race interviews flew by in a haze of red smoke from the flares the crowd had sent up. By the time he was released, Taehyung honestly couldn’t remember a word of what he’d said to any of the reporters. He only hoped he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself. Even that would be OK, given he’d just won in a Stallion at Monza. Jeon had clapped him on the back and heartily congratulated him, and even His Majesty had smiled frostily and told Taehyung he’d driven an excellent race. Judging by the not-very-subtle eye fucking the Silver Bullets drivers were giving each other in the cool down room, Taehyung was pretty sure he knew what they’d be doing tonight. Good for them, honestly. It was none of his business.

Besides, he had far more important things on his mind.

Back in his driver room, Taehyung had shucked off his race suit and pulled on a baggy pair of jeans when there was a knock on the door.

“Taehyung?” a familiar, silvery voice called.

Taehyung couldn’t wait the few seconds it would have taken him to put on a shirt. Flinging open the door, he grabbed Jimin’s arm and pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment the latch had clicked, Taehyung had Jimin in his arms. “I did it, Jimin-ah, I did it,” he whispered, rubbing circular motions on Jimin’s back. Feeling Jimin’s tiny hands tighten around his midsection, Taehyung smiled.

“You did, Taehyung-ah, you did,” Jimin replied softly. Drawing back just enough to look into his eyes, Jimin’s face split into the most heart-rendingly beautiful smile Taehyung could have ever imagined. There was no other choice for Taehyung, no option except to lean forward and kiss Jimin with all the love that threatened to burst right out of his heart. Soft, tender, and chaste, the press of Jimin’s rosebud lips against his sparked an inferno in Taehyung’s gut.

“Oh,” Jimin uttered as they broke apart, mere millimetres separating their lips.

Taehyung pulled back this time, giving Jimin a softly quizzical look. With a moan of the sweetest surrender, Jimin cupped the back of Taehyung’s head and crashed their lips together in a far less chaste manner. Sighing into the kiss, Jimin tenderly caressed Taehyung’s neck, his other hand gripping his waist ever tighter. When they could finally bring themselves to break apart, their lips were red and wet, their chests heaving and their eyes sparkling with unutterable fondness.

“Hi,” Jimin said, letting out a tiny little giggle.

“Hi,” Taehyung replied, his rectangular, toothy grin stretching the corners of his mouth.

“Maybe that’s been a long time coming,” Jimin murmured.

“Kiss me again?” Taehyung blurted out.

Jimin was only too happy to do just that.

*****

“Some days you come fourth, Guk,” Seokjin said gently, placing a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “It’s not the end of the world. You’re still a brilliant racing driver and don’t you forget it.”

Jeongguk looked up sharply. “You are aware, Jin, that Kim Taehyung has moved ahead of me in the championship after today? You’re still in the lead, but he’s second, now. I would understand if you thought less of me because of that-“

“Hey, hey!” Seokjin stopped him. “What on earth are you talking about? I lo-“ Seokjin cleared his throat. “I am enormously fond of you, Jeon Jeongguk, and that would be true whether you were first in the driver’s championship or twentieth. It doesn’t change a damn thing for me,” he said firmly, tucking a piece of Jeongguk’s hair back behind his ear.

Jeongguk glanced up at him, tears shimmering in his enormous, starry eyes.

“Baby,” Seokjin sighed, “oh, come here.” He crushed Jeongguk to his chest, kissing him on the top of the head and stroking his hair as he sobbed. When at last Jeongguk’s sobs subsided, it was so easy for him to pull Seokjin’s face down to his own. So easy for them to find comfort in each other’s lips, hands hungrily roving over the bodies they’d come to know so intimately.

It was so easy for them not to hear the knock on the door, not to hear Namjoon’s voice asking if it was OK for him to come into the room. Nor did they hear the creak of the handle as he opened the door.

But they did hear Namjoon’s shocked gasp as he took in the scene unfolding before him. Panicked, Jeongguk pushed Seokjin away from him, wiping his mouth.

“Oh, shit,” Namjoon uttered, his jaw hanging open. “Uh. Um. I guess I understand why you two don’t seem to hate each other anymore…” He cleared his throat. “Well. Uh.” Namjoon did a little gesture with his hand. “Carry on. We’ll need to talk about this later, though,” he added as he slunk out of the room.

The moment he left, Seokjin and Jeongguk stared at each other in shock until Jeongguk began to laugh. Soon, they were almost unable to breathe through the force of their laughter, holding on to each other to avoid crashing to the floor.

“Did you see Namjoon’s face?” Seokjin squawked, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Looked like he’d seen a ghost,” Jeongguk replied, shrieking as he was overtaken by mirth yet again.

“God, we’re going to be in for it now,” Seokjin sighed, running his fingers through his still-damp hair.

Chapter Text

Baku City Circuit, Baku, Azerbaijan

Namjoon checked the corridor in both directions before texting Yoongi the go-ahead to make his way to his suite from the elevator. If this plan was to work, they simply couldn’t risk being found out. Not yet.

“Hurry up and come inside,” he hissed as Yoongi took an unnecessarily slow pace around the corner.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep your hair on, Joon. There’s not a soul around!”

Nobody else talked to Namjoon the way Min Yoongi did. Nobody else dared to try and get away with it. By rights, Min Yoongi shouldn’t have been able to either, given he was Namjoon’s subordinate. And yet, for some reason, Namjoon didn’t mind so much when it was him. Idly, he wondered whether it was because Yoongi was a year older. But Kim Seokjin is two years older than you, and you never let him talk to you like this, Namjoon sharply remembered. It was a mystery that Namjoon was no closer to solving today than he had been several weeks ago. And yet, strangely, he was perfectly fine with that.

Closing the door behind him, Yoongi’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he took in the spread of delicious-smelling food laid out on the dining table in Namjoon’s suite. “You went to all this trouble for me?” he teased, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

“Oh yeah,” Namjoon deadpanned. “I put in the call to room service all by myself and everything.”

Yoongi’s mouth cracked open into a delightful, gummy grin as he threw his head back and laughed. “Wow, Joon. I’m impressed.”

A slight prickle of.. something… made itself known in Namjoon’s stomach as he watched Yoongi laugh with such abandon. Again, he realised that while the circumstances were not great, he was still glad he’d had the opportunity to get to know Min Yoongi better.

“So,” Yoongi began, between mouthfuls. “Have you actually seen Hoseok outside of work?” His tone was casual, but Namjoon detected a hint of bitterness behind it. As friendly as they were becoming, it was important not to forget the reason they were here together.

“No, I’m still dining out on the ‘busy’ excuse,” Namjoon admitted. Shifting his eyes a little, he added, “I kind of made the decision not to see him anymore, regardless of what happens with our plan.”

Yoongi’s mouth fell open in shock. “But I thought you wanted-“

“Yeah, well, I decided that I wasn’t ever going to be happy with someone who so carelessly two-timed me. Also, I couldn’t be happy with someone who was willing to treat you like that,” he added softly.

“Oh,” Yoongi uttered.

Was Yoongi… blushing? In all the years Namjoon had known Min Yoongi, he’d always been impeccably self-possessed. Not a single emotion out of place, let alone a blush. Glancing at him again, Namjoon saw the telltale flush around Yoongi’s collar that was impossible to mistake. What was more unexpected, however, was Namjoon’s own visceral response to it. Surreptitiously sneaking a hand up to his own face, he found his cheeks surprisingly warm.

*****

Although Taehyung was ecstatic that he and Jimin had finally crossed the barrier between a working and a personal relationship, things were… Not exactly as he’d imagined they would be. Jimin was soft, warm and utterly lovely. Taehyung couldn’t believe his luck that he was the one who got to kiss him, hold him, spoil him. And yet, it had been two weeks since their first kisses after his spectacular win at Monza, and not much more had happened since then. Taehyung wasn’t exactly a sex fiend, but…

Oh, who was he kidding? Taehyung was very definitely a sex fiend. And right now, he was an incredibly pent-up, frustrated sex fiend, at that.

Taehyung’s heart didn’t know whether to lurch or sink as Jimin returned from the bathroom, smiled at him in a way that completely unravelled his sanity, and plopped himself right back in Taehyung’s lap. Indulging himself a little, Taehyung nuzzled the back of Jimin’s neck, breathing in his delicious citrussy perfume and the darker, more raw scent of just Jimin. Unable to resist a little taste, he mouthed at the skin around Jimin’s hairline.

“Ooh,” Jimin uttered, shivering a little and clutching at Taehyung’s hands which had found their way to his waist. “That tickles, Tae!”

With a playful growl, Taehyung began tickling Jimin in earnest, his fingers quickly finding the spaces between Jimin’s ribs and under his arms that had him squealing in protest.

“Tae! Aaaarrgh, quit it!” Jimin begged, tiny like a doll in Taehyung’s arms as he was manhandled on to his back.

Crawling forwards, Taehyung caged him in. When Jimin let out a tiny whimper, the air between them thickened, shifting and shimmering with infinite possibility. “Jimin,” Taehyung whispered, pinned in place by Jimin’s heated gaze. “Can I?” he asked, barely loud enough to be heard. And still, Jimin nodded urgently, pulling Taehyung ever closer. The first brush of their lips sent sparks rushing through Taehyung’s entire body. How was it possible that he wanted Jimin this much? That the tiniest touch set his nerves alight? He’d never experienced this near-delirious level of pure want with anyone else. Somewhere deep inside himself, Taehyung wondered whether it was Jimin’s reticence to go any further that had him so mesmerised. And yet, as he sank into the plushness of Jimin’s lips, Taehyung knew that no matter how much or how little Jimin was willing to give, he would want him just as badly. As his hands found purchase on Jimin’s waist, Taehyung was overcome with a rush of protectiveness. Jimin’s waist was so tiny that Taehyung’s long fingers almost met in the middle as he held it between them. Immediately, Taehyung’s mind flew to rather less PG-rated places. Jimin under him, just like this, but naked, pliant as Taehyung made love to him slowly, with all the passion he’d been keeping under wraps…

“Tae?” Jimin murmured, “You OK? You’re kinda zoning out,” he said gently. “Do you wanna stop, or…?”

Stopping was absolutely the last thing Taehyung wanted to do. But gazing into Jimin’s eyes, he found himself falling yet again as their warm brown depths sucked him in, endlessly. Taehyung knew he’d wait as long as Jimin needed. Forever, if it came to that.

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked gently, stroking Jimin’s cheek with his fingers.

Jimin’s cheeks turned the precise shade of cherry blossoms in the springtime. “I want you to kiss me again, please.”

Making no attempt to halt his fall, Taehyung obliged him, capturing the fat of Jimin’s bottom lip between both of his own and sucking it into his mouth. The small sound of surprise that bubbled up from Jimin’s chest was accompanied by his hands gripping Taehyung’s back ever tighter. Jimin was the first to escalate things, flicking his tongue into Taehyung’s mouth. Taehyung’s responding groan heralded the goosebumps that erupted on every exposed inch of his skin.

Dragging himself away from Jimin’s addictive mouth, Taehyung dove in to the junction between Jimin’s neck and shoulder, fluttering kisses all over the skin of his collarbone where his t-shirt had pulled to one side. After one particularly hard suck had left him gasping, Jimin tilted Taehyung’s chin upwards. “No marks, please, Tae,” he reminded him gently. “I don’t want to make people talk.”

Taehyung’s stomach flipped uncomfortably. Is my reputation so negative that Jimin doesn’t want to be associated with me in public? he wondered to himself. Something of his thought process must have flashed through his eyes, because Jimin was suddenly sitting upright and cradling Taehyung’s head against his chest.

“Oh baby, no,” he soothed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that… it’s just that I’m quite a private person, and I don’t want people to talk before we really know what’s going on here,” he admitted. While they’d shared countless kisses and snuggles in the past two weeks, they hadn’t managed a genuine conversation about the state of their relationship. Jimin quite frankly didn’t know how to start it, and Taehyung had been no better.

“What’s going on here is that I’m in love with you, Jimin,” Taehyung said firmly. “Look, I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not ready. But this isn’t just a casual thing for me,” he explained, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Jimin bit his lip and looked away. “I don’t know how to say this, Tae…”

“How about you just start with one word after another?” Taehyung replied, his slightly snappish tone taking Jimin by surprise.

“Oh…” Jimin uttered, his rosebud mouth falling open a little.

Taehyung noted with some satisfaction that Jimin’s lips were definitely rosier than they had been when he’d arrived. Still, Taehyung’s face remained stern.

“It’s just that I don’t know what we are, Tae, what to call you – call us,” Jimin admitted. “Are we co-workers who share some intimacy? Are we close friends? Are we dating? None of the above?”

A ringing started up in Taehyung’s ears. How could he have been so goddamn stupid? He’d just assumed that Jimin knew what he meant to him, to the point he hadn’t actually bothered to put it into words.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung began, his voice low and tender, “My heart is yours, and yours alone. You can call me whatever you want to, whatever feels right,” he urged. “If it were up to me, though, I’d be happiest if you called me your boyfriend,” he admitted, almost afraid to meet Jimin’s gaze.

The next thing Taehyung knew, a weight barrelled into him, arms slipped around his waist and his face was being thoroughly kissed. It was fairly safe to assume that Jimin was happy with that particular title.

*****

“This track is like Monaco, but as if it was designed by a crazy video game developer,” Seokjin commented to Jeongguk as they prepared for the first Free Practice session. “You won here last year in F2, didn’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jeongguk affirmed. “Tough race. Almost got rear-ended at the start, and then when I’d built a decent lead, one of the guys stuffed it in the wall and the safety car period ate up all of my advantage,” he recounted. “But I managed the restart, and yeah, I won.”

“I wonder if you’ll beat me this weekend,” Seokjin said airily, with a cheeky sidelong glance at his lover.

“Only if you ask nicely,” Jeongguk whispered in his ear.

Seokjin’s neck and ears glowed almost as red as the Stallions race suit of Kim Taehyung, who happened to be walking past their garage at that moment.

“Hey, Jin! Five minutes, let’s go!” Yoongi reminded him.

Jeongguk winked and sauntered away.  

“This is becoming a habit,” Jeongguk panted as Seokjin mouthed at his throbbing cock, ten minutes after the first practice session had ended. The moment they’d been released from their duties, Jeongguk had glanced at Seokjin and without saying a word, they had both snuck off to Jeongguk’s driver room, hoping they’d remained unnoticed. But as Jeongguk looked down at Seokjin, kneeling between his legs with his mouth stuffed full of cock, he couldn’t have cared less in that moment whether anyone knew. Seokjin’s mouth was so warm, so tightly stretched around him. And those lips… god, Jeongguk felt a dangerous lurch in his stomach just looking at them. If he wasn’t careful, he'd…

“Jeongguk?” Namjoon’s voice called from outside the door. “Can I have a moment?”

“One minute, Namjoon!” Jeongguk called in a panic. “I’m just getting changed, can you hold on a sec?”

“Oh, of course,” Namjoon replied. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Gesturing frantically to Seokjin to neaten himself up, Jeongguk peeled off his race suit and swiftly redressed himself in a tracksuit. Sure, when his cock had been halfway down Seokjin’s throat he hadn’t cared so much who knew about it. But right now, he was desperate to maintain some sort of decency.

Giving Seokjin a quick once-over, satisfied that he was presentable enough, Jeongguk strode over and opened the door.

“Hi, Namjoon,” he said somewhat breathlessly. “What’s up?”

“Hi Jeongguk.” Namjoon’s eyes flickered to the sofa. “Oh hi, Seokjin,” he deadpanned. “I didn’t expect to see you in here once Jeongguk told me he was getting changed,” he added pointedly.

“Ha ha, yeah, well,” Jeongguk tried to laugh it off. “We were just… um, we were just discussing the track, that’s all.”

Sighing, Namjoon looked seriously at Jeongguk. “I was actually hoping to talk to you alone, Jeongguk,” he admitted. “But I suppose since what I’m about to say concerns Seokjin too, it might be better this way.”

Jeongguk looked at him quizzically. “What’s this about, Namjoon?”

Averting his eyes, Namjoon’s gaze shifted between the pair of them. “Oh God, this is awkward… Actually, I wanted to make sure that you’re not being coerced,” he mumbled. “I’ve seen this sort of thing happen before with older drivers and their younger teammates, and sometimes it’s not quite consensual-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jeongguk blurted out. “Look, it was me who initiated the change in relationship between Seokjin and myself,” he said firmly. “Kim Seokjin has never once tried to get me to do something I have been less than enthusiastic about. I’m aware that this is not ideal from a team standpoint. However, I can assure you that my feelings for Seokjin are genuine,” Jeongguk finished.

Namjoon blanched. “Point taken,” he conceded. “Seokjin, do you have anything to say?”

“Yeah,” Seokjin drawled. “I think you should give Jeongguk a bit more credit. He’s no fool.”

Jeongguk melted. Maybe I’m a fool for you, Jin, he found himself thinking.

“Ahem. Well, that’s settled, then,” Namjoon rumbled, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue. “Uh… I’d just ask that you maintain decorum in public, for the time being. Your relationship is nobody’s business but your own, and the best way to ensure that is to keep it away from the public eye,” he added. “So if you’ll excuse me, I…” Namjoon gestured toward the door.

Jeongguk and Seokjin both watched him leave. Once the door had closed behind him, neither driver could hold back their laughter.

“I know he’s got our best interests at heart, but my God, that was painful!” Seokjin guffawed, bending forwards with the force of his mirth.

Jeongguk flopped on to the sofa beside him, leaning his head against Seokjin’s shoulder for balance. Pausing for breath, he turned around and fixed Seokjin with a serious look. “You know that what I said was the absolute truth, don’t you? Just in case you had any doubts whatsoever.”

“Of course, I do, Guk,” Seokjin assured him, taking Jeongguk’s hand in both of his own. “You’re twenty-seven years old. Hardly a child. I would expect you to know your own mind.”

“And heart,” Jeongguk added. “Don’t forget my heart.”

The raw vulnerability in Jeongguk’s eyes struck a chord deep in Seokjin, reaching places that he’d never before allowed the light to touch. For the first time in his life, Kim Seokjin felt seen, felt… dare he even say it? Loved. How amusing fate could be at times, bringing him Jeon Jeongguk as a teammate.

*****

“Kim Taehyung is proving to be a rather large pain in my ass,” Namjoon told Yoongi later that evening over yet another room service dinner in his suite. “Can you believe he was half a second ahead of our drivers in both free practice sessions today? With that little touch of crazy that’s in him, I fear that he might just be unbeatable around Baku this weekend,” Namjoon lamented.

“This track certainly rewards daring,” Yoongi mused. “And say what you will about his historical lack of consistency, but Kim Taehyung has never lacked balls.”

Balls, eh. Namjoon’s mind flashed back to his earlier visit to Jeongguk’s driver room, and his cheeks coloured a little as he remembered Seokjin’s dishevelled state. Hair all over the place, lips red and swollen. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had been going on in that room before Namjoon had walked in. And since Namjoon was a genius…

“Joon, what’s got you blushing?” Yoongi teased, his eyes lighting up. “Please share with the class.”

“I really shouldn’t tell you-“

“Since when has anything you’ve told me gone any further?” Yoongi pointed out.

Namjoon had no choice but to agree. Yoongi was quite spectacularly trustworthy, and that had been one of the main reasons the Silver Bullets team had hired him…

“Ugh, I really shouldn’t… but…” Casting a glance skyward, Namjoon confided, “Jeongguk and Seokjin are sleeping together.”

Yoongi did a double take. “What? I mean, wasn’t it five minutes ago they couldn’t stand the sight of each other, and now they’re fucking?”

“Precisely,” Namjoon said grimly. “After Monza, I accidentally walked in on them making out. And today, when I went to see Jeongguk in his driver room, he asked me to wait a minute because he was changing. Lo and behold, he opens the door at last and there is Seokjin sitting on the sofa, hair messy and lips swollen. It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together.”

“Jesus,” Yoongi drawled. “I knew they were getting on better, but I didn’t think it was quite that well. Does Hoseok know, do you think?”

The mention of their erstwhile lover sent a jolt down Namjoon’s spine. “I have no idea. To be honest, I think he’s too preoccupied with himself to notice,” Namjoon grumbled.

“I won’t say a word to Jin,” Yoongi promised. “And I think Jeongguk is kind of scared of me, so I definitely won’t say anything to him. But I’ll keep my eye out for any more juicy tidbits to share with you,” he grinned.

It had been a long, long time since Namjoon had felt as though he had a partner in crime. Yoongi seemed to be fitting into that role perfectly.

*****

Three red flags were brought out after crashes during the qualifying hour on Saturday – one for Joshua Hong, one for Jake Sim and another for Vernon Chwe. Taehyung had the duration of the third red flag period to process his feelings about his teammate’s mistake before the final part of qualifying was restarted with four minutes left to go. It was enough, because it had to be. He knew that there wasn’t enough time to get two more hot laps in – not that he had enough tyres anyway – so he would have to choose carefully when to make his move. As things stood, he held the fastest lap. But it was entirely possible that someone else could displace him, given the rate the track was evolving. And yet, he couldn’t afford to leave his lap until the very last moment. What if someone went faster, then another red flag was brought out and the session didn’t have enough time left to be restarted? Taehyung would be forced to start the race from somewhere other than the place he rightfully deserved. After discussing strategy intently with Hyungsik, Taehyung decided that the best option was to start his warm up lap with three minutes left. That would get him over the finish line with approximately one minute left on the clock – risky, he knew, but less so than leaving it any later.

“All right, Tae, show ‘em what the alien can do!” Hyungsik encouraged him as he approached the start/finish line for his final hot lap of qualifying.

Taehyung didn’t have another conscious thought until one minute and forty-three seconds later, give or take a few thousandths. This time around, he knew he hadn’t missed any yellow flags. Nor had he been impeded by another driver, or impeded anyone else. As far as he knew, he’d done everything right, and now it was a waiting game to see if anyone else could depose him from the top spot.

Jeon Jeongguk couldn’t manage it.

Kim Seokjin crept marginally closer, but even His Majesty couldn’t knock Taehyung off the throne that day.

Namjooon’s fears had turned out to be well founded. Kim Taehyung was simply untouchable around Baku City Circuit. At least in qualifying trim.

The cheers of the crowd and the hugs from his team barely registered. All Taehyung wanted to do was see his boyfriend. That, however, had to wait until he’d finished his media duties and the team debrief. By the time he was ready to leave the circuit, Jimin had texted him saying he’d gone back to the hotel and would meet him later. They’d agreed on a room service feast in Taehyung’s suite, but Taehyung had high hopes of feasting on something else, too.

*****

Upon hearing the doorbell, Seokjin raced to the front door of his palatial suite. He’d been enjoying the panoramic views from one of his three balconies, breathing in the fresh breeze coming off the Caspian sea and admiring the exotic beauty of Baku’s architecture. Yet there was one view he was particularly keen to set his eyes upon, and it was standing right outside the door. Adjusting his robe just a little, Seokjin pushed open the door, ready to greet his lover. His welcoming words died on his lips as Jeongguk stalked into the room and roughly shoved Seokjin against the wall, kissing him fiercely.

“Fuck Kim Taehyung!” Jeongguk growled once he’d released Seokjin from his savage hold.

“Why are you talking about fucking Kim Taehyung when you’ve just been kissing me?” Seokjin teased, recoiling when he noticed the fury in Jeongguk’s expression. “Sorry, bad joke,” he added quietly.

“It’s all right, Jin,” Jeongguk sighed. “I know you were only trying to make me laugh, and I appreciate that,” he acknowledged, caressing the back of Seokjin’s neck. “I’m just so goddamn frustrated that I can’t beat him lately.”

Seokjin’s plush mouth thinned a little, settling into a line. “Come and sit down, Guk,” he offered. Walking over to the sofa, he sat down and patted the seat beside him.

Jeongguk, drawn irrepressibly to Seokjin’s side, didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“Can I hug you?” Seokjin asked gently, as though he didn’t want to startle him.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk murmured. Melting into Seokjin’s embrace, he allowed himself to become small in his lover’s arms.

“I don’t want to sound like I know everything, because I don’t,” Seokjin admitted. “But I do have a bit more experience in the sport than you do right now. So I’m going to offer something, if that’s OK?” he asked carefully, checking Jeongguk’s facial expression. Satisfied that it wasn’t going to be too much, he began. “Guk-ah, no matter how good you are, there will always be ups and downs in this sport. You’ll never be able to beat someone one hundred percent of the time. Even I wasn’t able to do that, and we both know I’m one of the very best,” he said jokily, relieved when Jeongguk cracked a smile.

“You are, Jin. You’ve been my hero ever since I started watching Formula 1,” Jeongguk admitted.

Seokjin blushed a deep crimson upon hearing those words. “Ah. Well. I’m glad I was able to inspire you.”

Jeongguk buried his head against Seokjin’s neck before he continued speaking. “To me, you’ve always seemed like the perfect racing driver. Clinical, precise, and unemotional. I have to say it’s pretty cool that you’re showing me a different side to yourself,” he murmured.

The fluttering in Seokjin’s stomach reached a crescendo. How was it fair that this beautiful, pure-hearted man wanted to be with him? Seokjin had thought his heart had turned to stone years ago. He had never expected to fall in lo-

Clearing his throat, Seokjin patted Jeongguk on the back. “Are you hungry? We should really eat. Big race tomorrow,”

It had been a hard and fast rule between the two of them that they never spent the night together before a race. Whichever one was visiting the other would always return to his own room to ensure an uninterrupted night’s sleep. This time, however, after watching a movie in bed, limbs so intertwined it would have taken a real effort to disentangle them, Seokjin whispered, “Why don’t you stay?”

Jeongguk’s dreamy smile was all the answer Seokjin needed. With that, he turned out the lights and they fell asleep nestled cosily in each other’s arms.

*****

“You ready to go, Tae?” Hyungsik asked over the radio as Taehyung’s car peeled away from pole position at the beginning of the formation lap.

“As I’ll ever be,” Taehyung replied, cool and impeccably self-possessed.

Which was quite a surprise, because the previous night hadn’t gone remotely the way he’d hoped. Jimin had come to his room, sure. They’d eaten a room service feast, yes. After dinner, they’d settled on the sofa to snuggle and watch some Netflix. As usual, their lips were inexorably drawn together, the magnetic pull between them impossible to ignore. Jimin had responded eagerly, his arms fastening around Taehyung’s slim waist and pulling their bodies closer. So far, so good. Jimin, as was often the case, was the one to begin the escalation of their making out, licking hotly into Taehyung’s mouth and pressing the length of his torso more firmly against his boyfriend’s. Which was, of course, absolutely fine with Taehyung. So fine, in fact, that he started to get hard from it. Being comfortable with his own sexuality, Taehyung didn’t really think about the fact that his hands were wandering until they found a grip on Jimin’s ass. The feel of those firm, soft, bouncy cheeks had his dick kicking in response. Intoxicated with desire, Taehyung drew Jimin’s hips firmly against his own, rolling them slowly.

“See what you do to me, baby?” Taehyung breathed, kneading the flesh of Jimin’s delectable ass. “I’m going crazy here.”

Taehyung didn’t really understand why. But in hindsight, he realised that had been the wrong thing to say. Jimin gently but firmly pushed him away and stood up, mumbling excuses about it being late. Before Taehyung really knew what was happening, Jimin had gone, leaving his balls bluer than the paint job on Minghao’s Wilkins.

Jimin had texted Taehyung goodnight, peppering the message with heart and kiss emojis. So Taehyung was fairly certain that things were OK between them… Their interactions had been normal at the track on Sunday morning, and Jimin had kissed him firmly after they had finished their usual guided meditation in preparation for the race.

“Go get ‘em, Tae. I’ll be cheering for you,” Jimin had said, his infectious smile filling Taehyung’s heart with rainbows and sunbeams.

As he rounded the final corner and took his place on pole position, the thought crossed Taehyung’s mind that Jimin might be holding out on him in order to draw out his best possible performances. Well, it was working, because Taehyung felt like he would do absolutely anything to get a taste of that ass. He was so absorbed in thinking about it, in remembering how it had felt in his hands – so pert, with just the right amount of jiggle – that he almost missed the lights going out to start the race. It wasn’t until he’d managed to retain the lead into the first corner, by the skin of his teeth, that Taehyung was able to take another breath. Snapping himself into focus mode, he showed precisely why he’d been peerless in qualifying, managing to pull out almost a second’s lead over Kim Seokjin by the end of the first lap.

“You all right there, Tae?” Hyungsik queried. “Your heart rate went through the roof for a moment there.”

“Just the adrenaline,” Taehyung replied dismissively. “I’ve got a race to drive, if you don’t mind.”

Willing his rather too interested cock to calm down, Taehyung settled in for the next fifty laps.

“Jin, what is up with you today?” Yoongi asked exasperatedly, as Seokjin almost missed another apex. “If you can’t keep it on the track, you’re better off letting Jeongguk through.”

Please don’t mention his name, Seokjin silently willed Yoongi. It was the thought of Jeongguk that was responsible for his shattered concentration. Part of Seokjin understood why they’d had the rule of not sleeping next to each other the night before a race. Yet another, more tender part of him swelled with delight when he remembered waking up that morning and opening his eyes to see the sun cascading over Jeongguk’s sleeping face. If he wasn’t mistaken, it had felt a lot like lov- “Oh, fuck,” he swore as he missed the apex completely. Jeongguk’s car swept right past as Seokjin grappled with the steering to right himself.

“You OK, Jin?” Yoongi checked in.

“Fine. Just pissed off with myself,” he muttered.

Something bubbled in the pit of his stomach, and Seokjin couldn’t be certain whether it was excitement or dread. He shoved it away to be dealt with at a later date.

Baku was a circuit with two moods. It could be incredibly exciting and action-packed. But sometimes, it was just a slightly madder Monaco – mostly relying on the drivers challenging themselves rather than each other. This time, however, it decided to buck the trend and include elements of both. No matter what chaos went on behind him, Kim Taehyung effortlessly controlled the race from the front. Jeon Jeongguk, despite getting past Kim Seokjin fairly early on, couldn’t bridge the gap between himself and Taehyung. Behind those three, chaos reigned supreme. Kai Huening was the first one to crash, touching the wall with his front right tyre as he sped through the castle section. The angle was just right (or wrong) for him to go bouncing off the other side of the barrier, eventually coming to a halt on the runoff area with his axles severely bent. Unhurt but definitely pissed off, Kai was seen angrily kicking his front right tyre by millions of people watching the race worldwide. After a few laps passed under the safety car, Taehyung knew he had to keep his focus clear for the restart. There would be no thinking about Jimin’s ass this time… The moment his thoughts inevitably strayed back to Jimin’s ass again, Hyungsik came over the radio and shocked him back into reality.

“I think the safety car will be in this lap, Tae. Kai’s Hayes has been cleared. Just be ready, OK?”

Point taken, Taehyung thought, the ghost of a smile crossing his face. With his focus sharp and ready, Taehyung had absolutely no trouble soaring off into the distance once more. This time, his lead over Jeon Jeongguk was over a second by the time he crossed the line again, with Kim Seokjin an increasingly distant third. Just as Taehyung had settled into his rhythm again, the safety car indicator flashed up on his dashboard once more.

“Not again,” he groaned. “Hyungsikkie, who is it this time?”

“Lee Jinki. Misjudged Turn 15 and went into the wall. He’s fine, walked away. Should be a quick one.”

Mildly surprised to hear that such a reliable veteran had made an uncharacteristic mistake, Taehyung nevertheless used the safety car period as a chance to sharpen his focus yet again. The visualisation Jimin had led him through earlier popped back into his mind, bringing with it a sense of calm and perfect peace. When it was time to go again, Taehyung’s heart didn’t even accelerate. Fortunately, however, his Stallion did, and soon his lead had stretched out to three seconds. With two and a bit laps to go, and a lead of over six seconds to Jeon Jeongguk, Taehyung was just beginning to think he was home and hosed when the dreaded red flag indicator flashed up. Slowing down immediately, Taehyung nursed his car back to the garage.

Jake Sim’s Picador had managed to tag the back of Felix Lee’s MacPherson, sending them both flying into the wall. The barrier had been so badly damaged that the entire race needed to be stopped in order to fix it. Thankfully, both drivers seemed fine except for superficial bruising, but they were being checked over at the medical centre just in case.

Although Taehyung was a racer down to his bones, he still found himself wishing that the race director would choose not to restart with only two laps left. They’d completed more than two-thirds race distance, so a result could be declared with full points awarded. A poor restart and Taehyung could lose everything he’d worked for. He’d seen it happen too many times to discount – a driver would be comfortably in the lead, then the race was red-flagged. On the restart, he’d have a moment’s inattention and either lose places or crash, and all his hard work was completely null and void. Still, it wasn’t up to him, and he’d do what he had to do.

Once he’d been released from his safety restraints, Taehyung removed his helmet and wandered into his driver room, sitting down on the sofa with a huff. Just as he’d rested his head in his hands, there was a knock on the door.

“Tae? Do you want some company?” Jimin’s voice called. “You can tell me go away if you like- Oh,” Jimin uttered as Taehyung flung open the door and pulled him inside.

“Why would I ever tell you to go away, you silly thing?” Taehyung teased, drawing Jimin into a hug.

Jimin made a pleased little noise that had the immediate effect of making Taehyung want to eat him. Unable to hold himself back any longer, Taehyung kissed Jimin, deep and passionate, only releasing him when they were both gasping for air.

“Wh-what was that for?” Jimin stammered, cheeks pink and lips glistening wetly.

“I guess my love for you bubbled up to the point that I couldn’t keep it in anymore,” Taehyung teased, enjoying Jimin’s surprised little gasp. He adored seeing Jimin like this, all pink and flustered. Especially as he’d seen the much tougher, sassier sides of him so often in the past. It was a true delight to know that he was the one who could turn Jimin into a shy, stuttering mess.

“Taehyung,” Jimin sighed, caressing the back of his neck. His eyes turned molten as he gazed into Taehyung’s, slowly leaning in until…

“Tae!” Hyungsik called, bashing on the door. “Race will be restarted in ten minutes. Get your butt out here!”

“Damn,” Taehyung muttered under his breath. “Guess I’ve gotta do some more work for this win after all.” He pecked Jimin swiftly on the lips and headed back out into the garage.

The tense atmosphere as the twenty cars formed up on the grid was palpable. Taehyung was doing his very best to remain calm. Still, his heart drummed loudly inside his chest. This was too important for him to fuck it up.

Jeongguk absolutely nailed the restart. He was able to pull alongside Taehyung at the first corner, but lacked the ultimate pace to get his nose in front. So he was forced to concede the corner and simultaneously defend himself against his teammate. For a moment, all Jeongguk could think about was how comfortable he’d been last night, wrapped in Seokjin’s arms. On track, however, that all went out the window. It simply had to.

Seokjin gritted his teeth as Jeongguk positioned his car just right to avoid the overtake. He had to admit it was very nicely done, and that wasn’t Seokjin playing favourites either. Jeongguk was proving to be a highly skilled racing driver, and Seokjin had to admit that he didn’t always have what it took to beat him. Perhaps he would have minded more if the memory of Jeongguk sleeping in his arms, the sunlight playing over his resting face, wasn’t so present in his mind.

“Jin. This is the last lap. Jeongguk is zero point four seconds ahead of you. Kim Taehyung is zero point eight seconds ahead of him. There might be a chance for you to do something. Just keep it clean, please.”

What I’ll be doing with Jeongguk later will be anything but clean, Seokjin thought cheekily. Putting that aside, he tried everything he could to distract Jeongguk, in the hopes that he could throw his car up the inside for second place. Kim Taehyung was too far gone for him to catch, now. Unless Taehyung made a mistake, the race was his. Perhaps, in past years, Seokjin would have hoped for one. But whatever Kim Taehyung was doing this year seemed to be making him bulletproof.

Jeongguk managed to execute a near-flawless final lap, keeping Seokjin firmly behind him. Both of them could only watch as Kim Taehyung sailed to another convincing victory. Shit, he’s taken back the championship lead, Seokjin realised during the cool-down lap. Ah, well. The season was far from over…

“Yes, yes, YESSSSSS!” Taehyung cried, pumping his fist in the air in sheer jubilation. He’d managed to hold his nerve and fight off two charging Silver Bullets. And wait… did this mean…?

“You’re back in the championship lead, you legend!” Hyungsik told him excitedly. “Brilliant drive today, Tae. You did absolutely everything right and you were rewarded for it. Well deserved.”

“Cheers, Hyungsikkie,” Taehyung said quietly. “But honestly, I couldn’t have done this without Jimin.”

“He’s a brilliant performance coach, that’s for sure. We’re all lucky to have him,” Hyungsik agreed.

Not as lucky as me, Taehyung thought. He was sharply reminded of the fact that nobody in the team knew that Jimin was his boyfriend, yet. The thought had him chuckling. All in good time.

Jeongguk was rather subdued during the podium ceremony, Seokjin noticed. A second place deserved more excitement than that, surely. And yet, his lover’s glum expression would have been more fitting at a funeral. Kim Taehyung, of course, was whooping and shouting and jumping up and down, as usual. Not the most decorous of individuals. Seokjin was simply trying to exist in the happy medium between the two. Smiling happily without overdoing it – because he didn’t want people to think he was perfectly happy with coming home in third place, of course – but always gracious. After the ceremony ended, he was walking back to the garage when he felt a tug on his arm.

Jeongguk.

“I need to fuck you later,” he whispered urgently in Seokjin’s ear. “I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”

“You know my room number,” Seokjin replied casually, removing his arm from Jeongguk’s grip and walking again. “Drop by whenever you’re ready.”

Seokjin’s implacable face didn’t betray any clue as to how Jeongguk’s words had made him feel. His skin was suddenly too hot, too small for his body as he imagined himself on his hands and knees, taking everything Jeongguk had to give.

*****

“Jiminie!” a raspy voice called, making him swivel around.

“Oh hey, Hobi-hyung,” Jimin replied. “What’s up?”

Hoseok looked a little guilty. “Ah, well, it’s just that… I don’t have any plans for tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to hang out? Dinner, drinks, something like that?”

Jimin had already promised his evening to Taehyung. But he didn’t want to tell Hoseok that. Not yet. “Uh, I’m really sorry, hyung, but I’m required for a team meeting tonight.” The lie tripped easily off his tongue, and he hoped his rosy cheeks wouldn’t give him away. Well, it was loosely true, as Taehyung was part of his team and they were meeting…

Hoseok’s face fell. “Damn. I guess I’ll just entertain myself, then,” he mumbled, walking away feeling slightly downcast. He’d been using distraction tactics to take his mind off the fact that both Yoongi and Namjoon were still holding out on him. Not that he only wanted to spend time with Jimin when he couldn’t get laid… but still, being with a friend would have taken the sting out of feeling quite so alone. Perhaps he’d finally give his new toys a try, tonight. He’d chosen several items, all of which looked… interesting, to say the least. And yet, Hoseok hadn’t been able to bring himself to use any of them. Tonight, though, he was all out of excuses.

*****

Taehyung’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he put the finishing touches on the arrangement of red roses he’d had delivered to his room. The sofa was piled high with pillows, a wrapped gift sitting on the coffee table. Smiling as he imagined Jimin’s face when he unwrapped it to find a matching pair of pyjamas to the ones Taehyung was wearing, he jumped as the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” he called, padding over to the door and flinging it open.

“There’s my superstar,” Jimin cried, launching himself right into Taehyung’s waiting arms. “You were flawless today,” he added, nuzzling into his neck. “Nice PJs, by the way.”

Aha. There was his cue. Taehyung reluctantly pulled away, Jimin’s whine almost making him dive right back into his arms, and retrieved the parcel from the sofa. “This is for you,” he said shyly.

Jimin looked at him quizzically. “A present? For me?” he asked.

“Well, open it,” Taehyung mumbled impatiently, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head.

Jimin’s eyes scrunched up in delight as he registered what was inside the package. “Polka dot pyjamas, just like yours! Oh, Tae, I love them!” he squeaked, running back into Taehyung’s arms.

“I thought it would be nice for us to match,” Taehyung murmured shyly. “I’m glad you like them. These are for you, too,” he added, gesturing to the roses.

“You’re spoiling me,” Jimin chided. The joyous glint in his eyes betrayed his true feelings on the matter. “Do you mind if I go and change into my new pyjamas?”

Taehyung’s wide, rectangular smile made an appearance. “Do I mind? I was hoping you would!”

Several hours later, Taehyung was reclining with his legs up on the sofa, Jimin sitting between them and resting against his chest. Their stomachs were happily full and the bottle of wine they’d shared was empty. The movie, which Taehyung had only half paid attention to, so wrapped up was he in the man he was embracing, had its credits rolling. Jimin yawned, his head falling back against Taehyung’s shoulder.

“You tired, Jimin-ah?” Taehyung murmured in his ear, feeling the goosebumps rise on his boyfriend’s skin.

“Not tired enough to sleep yet,” Jimin replied coyly. “Besides, I want kisses.”

Without wasting another precious second that he could spend kissing Jimin, Taehyung turned his head to the side and slotted their lips together. The happy sigh Jimin exhaled had Taehyung’s heart singing “I love you, I love you, I love you,” their lips melding together as though they’d been doing so for all eternity. The angle quickly became awkward, however. Jimin pulled away for a moment, placing a finger on Taehyung’s lips when he whined in protest. “I just need to turn myself around, Tae, and then I can kiss you better,” he explained, moving to straddle Taehyung’s lap. Without giving Taehyung a moment to think, Jimin was kissing him again, more urgently this time.

Oh. This was much better. Instead of craning his neck to kiss Jimin, the angle was perfect. Jimin’s waist was easily encompassed by his hands while their bodies pressed against each other. The breathy moans his boyfriend was making, allied with the position that had him constantly brushing his incredible ass against Taehyung’s cock, soon had Taehyung feeling desperate. Boldly, he slipped a hand under Jimin’s pyjama shirt, drawing lazy circles on his back. When that raised no objection, only a series of contented sighs, Taehyung allowed one of his hands to creep around to Jimin’s deliciously firm, smooth chest. Cupping Jimin’s pectoral muscle, he brushed two fingers lightly across a nipple. Jimin jolted violently, letting out a restless whine.

“You liked that?” Taehyung whispered, smirking a little as he gently rolled Jimin’s now-hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The way Jimin’s hips kicked was proof enough, but the way he mewled Taehyung’s name was even sweeter. Gaining in courage, Taehyung pushed Jimin’s shirt up and leaned down, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses on his defined stomach, his fingers attending to his nipple without a moment’s pause. The soft hiss that fell from Jimin’s lips served as encouragement. Slowly, deliberately, Taehyung kissed a trail up to Jimin’s chest, sucking the unattended nipple into his mouth.

Jimin’s fingers tensed as he gripped Taehyung’s biceps to keep himself grounded. Sensation flooded his body, leaving him with an exquisite ache as all his blood rushed south. With Taehyung’s gifted tongue laving at one nipple and his dextrous fingers playing with the other, Jimin couldn’t keep still, thrashing from side to side and moaning more and more fervently. Before he realised what he was doing, Jimin was grinding down in Taehyung’s lap, feeling their cocks thicken in tandem.

Suddenly, Jimin’s head cleared and he gently pulled Taehyung’s (tantalising, delicious) mouth away from his chest. Standing up abruptly, he grabbed his hoodie and tied it around his waist to obscure the very obvious bulge that had formed in his new pyjama trousers.

“Jimin, what on earth-“

“Tae, I gotta go,” Jimin rushed out. “I’ll see you in the morning to head to the airport together, OK?”

“Now just wait a minute-“

“Bye!” Jimin cut him off, dashing out the door and leaving Taehyung terribly horny and utterly confused.

“You forgot your roses,” he said lamely to the closed door.

With a heavy sigh, Taehyung resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t even need Pornhub to get himself off tonight. Just a few strokes should do it. All horniness aside, however, a dark, lonely part of Taehyung was beginning to worry what he’d done to make Jimin so frightened.

*****

From their booth in the back of the secluded hotel bar, Yoongi blinked twice just to make sure he wasn’t actually seeing things, then surreptitiously nudged Namjoon.

“Look over there,” he murmured.

Namjoon followed his eyes and recoiled in surprise. Seokjin and Jeongguk had just walked into the bar and were ordering some drinks. Even a swift glance at them was enough to know that they were preparing to devour each other as soon as they got out of there. “Holy shit, they’re being brazen,” Namjoon breathed.

“Only because we know, Joon-ah,” Yoongi reminded him. “To anyone else, it just looks like two teammates having a friendly drink together after a double podium today.”

Yoongi’s words had a soothing effect on Namjoon, at least until he watched Seokjin and Jeongguk leaving the bar and Jeongguk’s hand gave Seokjin’s ass a hard squeeze. He only prayed that no reporters were lurking in the vicinity.

*****

On the elevator ride down to the hotel lobby, Jimin’s nerves were very much at the forefront. He’d done it again – run away from Taehyung just as things were escalating physically – despite promising himself he wouldn’t. Last night had been a dream for Jimin. Matching pyjamas, a bouquet of roses (that he’d forgotten to take with him, ugh) and Taehyung’s undivided attention. The way he made Jimin feel whenever he touched him. Or even looked at him with those enormous chocolate-brown eyes, full of intensity and desire. Jimin would say he was falling fast, but he knew the truth was that he’d already fallen. He’d been dreaming of Taehyung for months already, of their bodies being intimately intertwined, pleasured utterances filling the air and sparks of delight exploding through his entire being.

So why couldn’t he allow it to become a reality? Every time he and Taehyung made out, Jimin was the first one to push things forward with his ever-eager response to his boyfriend’s kisses. And yet, he was also the one slamming on the brakes when things became too heated. Jimin had lain awake for hours, soul-searching until he understood what was going on beneath the surface. He only hoped that he hadn’t pushed Taehyung away for good.

Taehyung was slumped on one of the lobby’s sofas, staring into space.

“Morning, Tae,” Jimin ventured shyly.

Taehyung jumped almost a foot. “Jimin! Hi… good morning. I was a million miles away,” he apologised.

Laughing softly, Jimin replied, “I can see that. Are you ready to go?”

Taehyung stood up and reached for Jimin’s suitcase. “There’s a car waiting for us outside. Let’s go.” He smiled, bright and rectangular.

Jimin’s heart lurched in sheer relief. He still had a chance to make things right.

Once they’d reached cruising altitude, Taehyung rummaged through a large tote bag resting at his feet. Pulling out the bouquet of red roses, now tied together with sparkling gold ribbon, he held them out to Jimin.

“You forgot these,” he said quietly, carefully meeting Jimin’s eyes.

Jimin accepted the flowers and placed them in his lap. “I did,” he acknowledged sorely. “I’m sorry.” The weight of things still unspoken hung thickly in the air.

“Jimin,” Taehyung began, “Oh… never mind,” he mumbled.

Panicked, Jimin placed a hand on Taehyung’s arm. “What is it, Tae? I’m listening,” he urged, hoping desperately that Taehyung would speak again.

With a heavy exhale, Taehyung looked out the window. “I don’t want you to be sorry all the time, Jimin,” he uttered, a bitter undertone to his dark voice. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to be sorry.” Turning around, he met Jimin’s eyes with an intense gaze. “I just want to know one thing. Do I frighten you?”

All the blood drained from Jimin’s face as Taehyung’s words hit him square in the gut. “What? Do you frighten me? No, of course not!” he protested. Desperately, he reached for Taehyung’s hand and attempted to interlock their fingers.

Taehyung’s hand remained limp, his eyes downcast as he stared at his lap.

“Tae,” Jimin murmured urgently, “why would I ever be frightened of you?”

Taehyung sighed, finally meeting Jimin’s eyes again. “What is it, then? Why is it that every time we get closer physically, you run away from me? Look, I don’t want you to feel like you have an obligation to get me off or anything like that… but Jimin, I really want to be close to you, to make you feel good,” he blurted out, his huge eyes full of yearning.

Fuck, Jimin thought. I’ve really messed this up, haven’t I? Uncaring of the plane staff hovering nearby, he moved the roses to another seat and climbed on to Taehyung’s lap.

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jimin, what are you-“

Tenderly, Jimin wrapped his arms around Taehyung and hugged him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Tae,” he whispered. “I realised last night that what I’m afraid of is nothing to do with you. It’s me,” he admitted. “I’m so afraid that I won’t be enough for you that I’m scared to show you all of me,” he explained, voice cracking from the emotion spilling out of him. “I want to be close to you, Tae. You have no idea how much,” he groaned, leaning in even closer. “But you’re Kim Taehyung. World famous Formula 1 driver. Global ‘it’ boy. Superstar. You’ve been with so many beautiful people. The entire world falls at your feet. And I’m just… me,” he finished, pulling back to look into Taehyung’s eyes.

Taehyung laughed out loud, shaking his head in disbelief. “Just you? You’re not just anything, Park Jimin. You’re the only person who has captivated me in this way. Every part of you is dear to me, and the more I learn about you the deeper I fall in love with you.”

“Oh,” Jimin uttered, blushing fiercely.

“Also, you’re absolutely smoking hot,” Taehyung added cheekily. “You only need to look in a mirror to know I’m telling the truth there.”

“You really think so?” Jimin wondered aloud.

“I really, really, really think so,” Taehyung assured him. “Look at me, Jimin. I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

Jimin gazed into Taehyung’s eyes and almost fell backwards from the amount of warmth he saw in them. He was forced to acknowledge to himself that Taehyung seemed to be telling the truth about his feelings…

“Are you going to stop insulting my boyfriend now or do we need to have a discussion?” Taehyung added sharply, his cheeky smirk taking the sting out of his words.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “I promise I’ll be nicer to him from now on. And I’ll try to be less afraid,” he added nervously.

“I won’t rush you,” Taehyung promised. “Just know that whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Instinctively, Jimin cupped the back of Taehyung’s head and brought him down for a kiss. Tender, loving and sensual. Jimin’s body flooded with electricity and he couldn’t help the tiny whimper that escaped his lips. Taehyung broke away a little, laughing good-naturedly.

“Darling, I’m totally on board with getting closer to you, but I’m not keen to join the mile-high club today,” he deadpanned.

Jimin rolled his eyes. The moment was broken. Yet something fragile still throbbed in the air between them.

“When we get back to Seoul, will you take me out on a date?” Jimin blurted out.

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up.

Blushing, Jimin added, “I mean, if you want to, that is,”

“Of course I want to!” Taehyung replied enthusiastically. “You have no idea how much I want to take you out and spoil you. Not to mention show the world that you’re all mine,” he murmured, nuzzling into Jimin’s neck. “How about tomorrow night? We can rest tomorrow, and then…”

“I’ll wear something pretty,” Jimin promised.

Eyes lighting up, Taehyung pulled back to look at him. “I will never, ever forget what you wore when you came to that bar in Miami,” he admitted. “There were some not so great things about that night, but your outfit was incredible. You were incredible.”

Jimin smirked. “I have something even better to wear, you’ll see,” he replied smugly, delighting in the way Taehyung’s jaw fell slightly open. “I suppose I’d better go back to my seat,” he added sadly.

Groaning in frustration, Taehyung nevertheless agreed. “I think you’d better. Or I am actually going to go insane,” he added, patting Jimin’s ass as he stood up. Though they remained in their separate seats for the duration of the flight, their hands remained intertwined.

*****

Seokjin groggily opened his eyes as his phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand. Whoever it is can fuck right off, he thought rudely, placing a pillow over his head and going back to sleep. When he eventually woke up several hours later, his phone showed 47 missed calls.

“What the hell?” he uttered in disbelief as he scrolled through his notifications.

Ten were from Kim Namjoon.

Five were from Jeon Jeongguk.

And thirty-two were from his father.

Groaning in frustration, Seokjin checked his text messages.

Jeon Jeongguk (08.14)

Jin, I fucked up

I’m so, so sorry.

Kim Namjoon (08.17):

Didn’t I tell you both to keep this out of the public eye? Now you’ll have to do damage control.

Namjoon had sent a link to a news article, which Seokjin would read once he’d finished checking his messages. Now it was time to read the ones he dreaded the most.

Father (08.22):

Looks like you’re not only another man’s bitch, but you bend over for him as well?

I couldn’t be more disappointed in you, Seokjin.

Clean up this pathetic mess or you are no longer my son.

“Fuck you,” Seokjin shrieked, hurling his phone at the wall and wincing as it chipped the paint. He hoped he hadn’t damaged it too badly… Sighing, he pushed himself out of bed and wandered over to retrieve it. At least it was still working, though he’d cracked the case rather badly. He’d buy a new one, but right now, he had to read the link Namjoon had sent.

More than just teammates? Kim Seokjin and Jeon Jeongguk get handsy in Baku

This reporter was off-duty and having a drink when a surprising sight caught his eye. Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Seokjin entering a hotel bar, having a drink, and then leaving together. Now you may think that they are just teammates celebrating a double podium for the team, but this reporter suggests otherwise, given the familiarity with which Jeon Jeongguk squeezed Kim Seokjin’s rather juicy behind. Who knows what they got up to afterwards? This reporter certainly has an idea…

The picture was incriminating. Seokjin had to admit that. Captured at the perfect moment, Jeongguk’s fingers splayed across Seokjin’s ass cheek, flexing as they dug into the meat of it. There was no mistaking it for a friendly pat. Cursing under his breath, he called Jeongguk.

“Jin,” Jeongguk answered breathlessly. “Are you OK?”

“Of course I’m not fucking OK, Guk!” Seokjin replied hysterically. “Yes, you did fuck up. Big time. You know I’m not out…” Seokjin trailed off.

“I’m so sorry,” Jeongguk said quietly. “I just… I was a little tipsy, and I wanted to touch you. I thought it was safe…”

“Well it wasn’t safe, was it?” Seokjin exploded. “Now the whole world thinks we’re fucking.”

“They’re not wrong, though,” Jeongguk retorted. “Maybe if you weren’t so afraid of living your truth you wouldn’t be so mad at me.”

“Jeongguk, we are not having this conversation right now. Namjoon is furious with both of us, and my father is threatening to disown me-“

“Ah. So that’s what it’s all about,” Jeongguk cut in. “Your father. Who, as far as I’m aware, has always treated you like shit and made you feel ashamed of who you are. Maybe this is the wake-up call you need, Jin.”

Jeongguk’s words landed like a punch in Seokjin’s stomach. For a moment, the only sounds over the line were their breathing.

“Guk,” Seokjin pleaded, “please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

Jeongguk sighed. “I’m getting pretty tired of lying, of keeping our relationship under wraps. I wonder if this could be the chance to break free from all of that.” He paused. “But if you really can’t do that, I’ll respect your position.”

“Guk-“

“I’ll follow your lead, Jin. Talk later.”

Jeongguk had hung up.

Seokjin allowed himself a moment’s rest, head in hands, before he dialled Namjoon’s number.

“Hey, Jin,” Namjoon answered, his voice warm and sympathetic. “This is pretty fucked up, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” Seokjin replied. “Throughout my ten-year career I’ve managed not to be outed. Turns out all it took was one drink too many and an over-eager younger lover,” he groaned. Despite himself, Seokjin had to fight the urge to laugh.

“I told you two to be careful,” Namjoon chided him.

“I know, Joon, I know. But sometimes feelings get in the way of rational thought,” Seokjin admitted.

Namjoon snorted. “What’s happened to you, Kim Seokjin? What are these feelings you’re talking about?”

“He makes me feel like a living, breathing person instead of just a cardboard cutout,” Seokjin admitted. “I’m actually considering letting him come to my house. I might even allow him into my sanctuary.”

“Whoa. I never thought I’d see the day,” Namjoon teased. “Am I hearing this right? Kim Seokjin is falling in love?”

“I didn’t say that,” Seokjin snapped.

“You didn’t have to, Jin,” Namjoon replied softly. Sensing Seokjin’s discomfort, he moved on. “Have you thought about how you want to play this with the media?”

Seokjin gritted his teeth. “Can you call a press conference? I have some things I want to say.”

“Of course, Jin. I’ll text you the details once it’s set up,” Namjoon reassured him.

*****

“Yoongi, please. I just want to meet for one drink,” Hoseok begged, but Yoongi remained implacable.

“How many times do I have to say no before you’ll actually listen to me, Hoseok?”

The use of his full name stung. Yoongi hadn’t called him anything but ‘Hoba’ in a very long time. Hoseok was beginning to wonder if this was what it felt like to reap what one sowed. He’d foolishly thought such things didn’t apply to him. That he was far too clever, too charming not to get away with it. And really, he hadn’t meant to string Yoongi and Namjoon along. It was simply that he couldn’t resist either of them. But instead of doing the decent thing and making a choice, he’d attempted to juggle both, and now neither of them would see him. Well, Namjoon hadn’t said he wouldn’t see him, but Hoseok wasn’t that much of a fool. There were only so many ‘meetings’ one man could attend, even someone as busy and important as Kim Namjoon. Perhaps there was still hope. But right now, Hoseok was desperately lonely. It wasn’t only Yoongi and Namjoon who were keeping him in the dark, either – Jimin was always busy and unable to see him, too. Hoseok had begun to wonder whether something had finally happened between Jimin and Taehyung. It would have been nice to hear it directly from his old friend, however.

With an exhaustion that felt bone-deep, Hoseok resigned himself to yet another night alone and staring at his TV until he drifted into a fitful sleep.

*****

Checking his hair in the hallway mirror for the thousandth time, Taehyung finally decided it wasn’t going to get any better. Butterflies had made a home in his stomach. His head felt light and his mouth dry. What’s wrong with you? He asked himself. You’re just taking your partner out on a date. You’ve done this with many different people over the years.

As soon as that thought was formed, Taehyung better understood the source of his crippling nerves. He wasn’t just taking a partner on a date, which he’d done endless times before. He was taking Jimin out on a date. Park Jimin, the most beautiful man he’d ever known, as well as the kindest, funniest, and definitely the most delightful. It may have been early to think such things, but Taehyung was also pretty sure that Jimin was going to end up becoming the love of his life. So was it any wonder he was nervous? It was one thing to hang out with Jimin in hotel suites, eating room service and watching TV all wrapped up in each other. But this – being out in public as a couple – was a whole new level of scary. Usually, Taehyung didn’t think too much about the way he presented himself. He knew he was handsome, charismatic and successful, and for the most part, a media darling. Sure, the press had been a little hard on him at times, but that was all part of being a public figure. Now, though, he had Jimin to think of, and he wanted to get it right. As usual, that started with his outfit. Clad in a perfectly tailored, forest green three-piece suit, hair slicked back off his forehead, Taehyung had to admit that he looked good. Good enough to stand beside Jimin, which was high praise indeed.

The shrill sound of the intercom interrupted Taehyung’s thoughts.

“Mr. Kim? I’ll bring the Maserati around now,” his part-time chauffeur, Siwoo, informed him. Part-time, because Taehyung loved to actually drive his collection of supercars. But also, it was nice to simply be seen in them from time to time. The Maserati Quattroporte was the perfect choice for his date – not only was it a five-seater, unlike most of his fleet, but as the newest addition to his collection, this would be his first public outing in it. It simply would not do to pick up Jimin in anything else. The matte black exterior and cerise leather seats screamed understated luxury. Also, it was actually comfortable to ride in. Which Taehyung thought was rather important, for a date. Especially a date with Jimin.

Bright headlights illuminated the windows by his front door, signalling Siwoo’s arrival. Taehyung cast one final glance back at his tidy, elegant house, desperately hoping he hadn’t missed something in case Jimin actually agreed to come back here with him later. Satisfied, he locked the door behind himself and got into the car. Here goes nothing, he thought as Siwoo drove away.

The intensity with which Jimin’s heart was pounding had him momentarily worried that it was going to burst right out of his chest. All this from a simple text message… Well, not really, Jimin reminded himself. It was a text message from Taehyung, his boyfriend, saying he was on his way and would be with him in ten minutes. Letting out a tiny sound of frustration, Jimin raced back to the full-length mirror in his bedroom. Checking his hair, which was as perfect, shiny and golden as it had been two minutes ago, Jimin twirled around and attempted to check himself out from every angle. His smart black trousers hugged his ass as though they never wanted to let it go. Good. The heeled boots he’d selected had the effect of lengthening his already statuesque legs. Jimin was grateful for the fact that although he was only five feet eight inches, he was approximately ninety percent legs – and he loved to show that off. Taking a deep breath, he examined the shirt he’d chosen especially for this occasion. Idly surfing through high-end clothing sites late one night, his jaw had dropped when he’d first laid eyes on this piece. Perhaps he’d even drooled a little. Despite the rather large dent it would make in his earnings for the month, Jimin knew he just had to have it. When it had arrived in his possession the next day, he’d lifted it reverently from the box and the moment he’d slipped it on to his body he knew it was worth it. Even if he would need to eat instant ramyeon for dinner towards the end of the month to make up the shortfall… Made from a translucent silk of the purest white, the shirt was embroidered with delicate gold threads that just about saved it from becoming indecent. The liquid silk draped around Jimin’s body in the most exquisite manner. When he glanced at his reflection, Jimin felt alluring, invincible, and very, very sexy. He only hoped Taehyung would agree.

Jimin’s phone chimed at that precise moment.

Kim Taehyung (18.27):

I’m here, gorgeous. The black Maserati.

Can’t wait to see you 😘

Colour bloomed in Jimin’s cheeks as excitement shot through him once more. Grabbing his studded leather jacket, he bolted to the elevator. The short ride down four floors felt like it lasted an entire year, such was Jimin’s anticipation. When he finally reached the lobby, he burst out of the front doors frantically. Ah. There was the black Maserati, waiting for him. As Jimin walked over, he was surprised when Taehyung smoothly got out of the car, holding the door open for him.

“Hi,” Jimin greeted him breathlessly. No wonder he couldn’t quite catch his breath – Taehyung was utterly breathtaking in his deep green suit, leaving Jimin mesmerised.

“Hi, beautiful,” Taehyung greeted him in return, unable to keep the cheesy grin off his face. “You look stunning,” he added, placing his hand gently on the small of Jimin’s back to guide him into the car.

“You’re an absolute dream,” Jimin blurted out, blushing fiercely as Taehyung closed the door behind them.

“Says the angel who descended from heaven just to go on a date with me,” Taehyung retorted smoothly. The moment the car door closed behind them, Jimin was in Taehyung’s arms being thoroughly kissed.

“Couldn’t wait another moment to do that,” Taehyung murmured, pulling away just enough to rub their noses together.

The chauffeur cleared his throat.

“Oh, excuse me! Siwoo-ssi, please take us to the first destination,” Taehyung asked.

“As you wish, Mr. Kim. Hello, Mr. Park,” he added.

“Hello, Siwoo-ssi,” Jimin replied politely. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You too, Mr. Park,” Siwoo answered cheerily.

Jimin’s heart fluttered dangerously as Taehyung leaned over him once more, only for him to realise that his boyfriend was simply fastening his seatbelt. When he’d done so, Taehyung drew back a little, lingering dangerously close to Jimin’s neck. “You smell incredible,” he whispered, his hot breath making the hairs on the back of Jimin’s neck stand up.

Jimin simply couldn’t help the shudder of pure delight that ran through him. Desperate for something to hold on to, Jimin grabbed Taehyung’s hand and held it tightly. His boyfriend’s warm, easy smile was everything to him, in that moment.

“So, where are you taking me, Tae?” Jimin asked casually.

Taehyung’s eyes lit up. “First, we’ll go to Bar Cham for cocktails. After that, I’ve made dinner reservations at Wolfgang Steakhouse.”

Jimin couldn’t help the happy little laugh that bubbled up inside him.

“Oh? You like that?” Taehyung teased.

“I can’t believe you’re spoiling me that much,” Jimin mumbled, turning his face away in embarrassment.

Taehyung’s eyebrows rose in a quizzical manner. “Let’s get one thing straight, Jimin. I am only spoiling you precisely as much as I mean to. I hope you can relax and enjoy tonight,” he said quietly.

Impulsively, Jimin surged forward and left a kiss on Taehyung’s cheek. “How could I do anything else when I’m with you?”

The honest purity of Jimin’s words landed right in the centre of Taehyung’s chest, so beautifully painful. I am so in love with you, Taehyung thought as he became helplessly lost in Jimin’s vibrant, sparkling eyes.

*****

Across the other side of town, Seokjin smoothed down the blazer of his perfectly-tailored suit just before stepping up to the small stage that had been set out for him. Rows and rows of reporters clamoured for the best spot, cameras flashing without pause.

“You may have an idea of why I called this press conference,” Seokjin began tentatively, holding up a hand to silence the hubbub that rose immediately. “I am aware there has been a lot of speculation about me, recently, and I wanted to put something right.”

Grimacing as journalists rudely called out questions. Seokjin declared, “I will not be taking questions at this time, so please save your energy. I merely called you all here to clarify something that is extremely important to me. After many years of obscuring my sexual preferences and keeping my love life firmly private, I am here to confirm that I am, indeed, homosexual.”

Immediately, people began to yell out questions, some of which made Seokjin’s eyes water.

He answered none of them, and gave a wry smile. “I am deeply sorry to all the mothers who wanted me to marry your daughters. Perhaps if you have sons, your wishes may have slightly more chance of coming true.”

A ripple of laughter bubbled through the room.

“What about Jeon Jeongguk? Are you two fucking?” a harsh voice blurted out.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “A gentleman never kisses and tells, does he? As I told you, I will not be taking any questions at this time. Thank you for attending.” Bowing to the gathered press, Seokjin turned and strode back behind the curtain, disappearing from sight.

Namjoon simply held out his arms and Seokjin fell into them, leaning on his old friend for support. Every breath he dragged in was harsh and painful as the magnitude of what he’d just done truly sank in.

Now, he would have to deal with the fallout.

*****

In the back of Taehyung’s Maserati, Jimin’s head slumped heavily on to his boyfriend’s shoulder as Siwoo pulled away from the steakhouse following the most delicious meal Jimin had ever eaten. The entire evening had been right out of a dream, Jimin reflected happily. Everywhere they went, he and Taehyung had been treated like royalty. After two superb cocktails at Bar Cham, Jimin was pleasantly giddy when they arrived at Wolfgang Steakhouse, giggling with sheer effervescent joy when they were shown to an intimate, two-person corner booth right at the back of the restaurant. Due to the placement of the seats, at right angles to each other, their knees constantly brushed, sending a spark of electricity through Jimin’s body every time they touched. Despite feeling shy every time Taehyung gazed at him with those huge, soulful eyes, Jimin was relieved to find that conversation flowed as easily as ever between the two of them. We really are a good match, Jimin was able to admit to himself. Finally, he was beginning to feel as though this was his reality, now – despite the fact that this date had been straight out of a fairytale.

“Mr. Park, I’ll be dropping you at home first,” Siwoo explained as the Maserati scythed through the quiet late night streets of Seoul.

Jimin’s stomach lurched. He sat upright and directed a questioning glance at Taehyung, who simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

“No,” Jimin spoke up, “I don’t want to go home. Taehyungie, would it be OK if I came back to your place?” Jimin rushed out breathlessly, his heart skipping as he waited for the answer.

Taehyung grabbed both of Jimin’s hands and squeezed them tightly. The beaming smile on his intimidatingly handsome face softened his features so much that for one glorious moment, he looked like a young boy. “Do you really want to, Jimin?” Taehyung asked quietly.

Jimin knew Taehyung wasn’t only asking whether he wanted to come back to his house. Returning Taehyung’s beaming smile, he nodded. “Yes, Tae. I really want to.”

“Destination changed,” Siwoo confirmed, pulling over to the left to take the next turn.

Hands intertwined and hearts thrumming with desire, Taehyung and Jimin spent the rest of the car ride in charged silence contemplating what was about to happen.

“Here you are, Mr. Kim, Mr. Park,” Siwoo declared once they’d cleared the security gate of Taehyung’s lavish estate. “I’ll drop you at the front door, take the Maserati back to the garage, and then I’ll go home if that’s OK, Mr. Kim?”

“Of course, Siwoo,” Taehyung replied. “Thank you for your excellent service tonight.”

“It’s my pleasure, as always, sir,” Siwoo replied.

Jimin’s breath hitched as he stepped out of the car and took in the size and elegance of Taehyung’s home. He’d been invited here many times already, but had always found excuses not to attend… perhaps something in his heart knew that if he let his guard down, he’d be lost? Well, that didn’t matter anymore. The look in Taehyung’s eyes told Jimin that he was every bit as lost.

Once Taehyung had punched in the front door code, he swept Jimin into the entrance hallway.

“Oh, Tae, it’s beautiful,” Jimin breathed.

“You like it?” Taehyung asked, oddly shy.

“I love it,” Jimin replied. “Show me around?”

Holding out a hand, Taehyung grinned cheekily. “Follow me.”

Jimin’s mouth fell progressively more and more open as Taehyung showed him around the vast entertainment area, the fully-equipped kitchen (which he admitted he wasn’t particularly good at using, but that his personal chef loved), the heated indoor pool, and the almost absurdly comfortable lounge room which was of course complete with a ridiculous quantity of pillows.

“That’s kind of it, really,” Taehyung trailed off.

Jimin eyed him sceptically. “It seems there is one important room you haven’t shown me,” he teased. “Your bedroom.”

Taehyung froze, his eyes darting from side to side in panic. “Jimin, I don’t want you to feel pressured-“

“Taehyung. I’m asking you to take me to bed,” Jimin replied firmly. Stepping forward, he grabbed the back of Taehyung’s neck and drew him down into a quick, heated kiss. “Please.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Taehyung mumbled, his lips quirking into a smile. Powerless to stop himself, he leaned down and took Jimin’s lips once more, this time with no holds barred. He felt it deep in his soul when Jimin let out a heady sigh of surrender, pushing him gently in the direction of the bedrooms. Somehow, while never disconnecting their lips, Taehyung managed to steer Jimin past the doorway and into his most intimate space. Soft shades of stone and mink lent the room a cosy, comforting warmth. But the fire that sparked between them burned far hotter.

Jimin wasted no time in taking charge, pushing Taehyung down on the bed and climbing over him.  The pleased surprise in Taehyung’s expression only spurred Jimin on, urging him to dive down and kiss his boyfriend breathless. Taehyung’s instinctive response was to tighten his hold on Jimin, pressing their bodies closer and closer until their desperation became too much to bear.

“Can I take this off you, baby?” Jimin asked, indicating Taehyung’s waistcoat.

“Please,” Taehyung whined, shimmying out of it the moment Jimin’s deft fingers had undone the buttons. Pushing Jimin’s hands aside, Taehyung began unbuttoning his own shirt.

A moan escaped Jimin’s lips at the sight of all that smooth, golden skin gradually becoming exposed and he could wait no longer to get a taste of it. Leaning in, he placed a kiss  just below Taehyung’s collarbone, grazing it with his teeth and soothing the sting with his tongue. Taehyung jolted like he’d been shocked. “Jimin,” he cried out. “Please, please do that again.”

Grinning wickedly, Jimin obliged. But this time, he ducked his head a little lower, taking Taehyung’s perked-up nipple into his mouth. Very gently, he grazed the bud with his teeth, making Taehyung hiss and his hips buck upwards. Immediately, he softened the action with his tongue, running it over and over until Taehyung’s nipple was glistening wet and he was writhing beneath him. Taehyung’s hands roved almost uncontrollably all over Jimin’s back, untucking his silk shirt and caressing the firm skin of his waist before making a home on his voluptuous ass. The pressure had their hips flush, growing cocks aligning with a friction that was simultaneously too much and nowhere near enough.

“Tae,” Jimin whined, “take my shirt off,” Jimin begged, restlessly rocking his hips down.

“With pleasure,” Taehyung murmured.

The smooth resonance of his mahogany-toned voice had Jimin desperate to do absolutely anything for him.

Once Jimin’s shirt was off and heated skin at last met heated skin, he felt his need for Taehyung climb to another level. “Shit, Tae, take everything off me. Please,” he implored, voice cracking with the intensity of his desire. “And take yours off too,” he added while Taehyung fumbled with the zipper of his trousers.

Taehyung paused for the briefest of moments. “I just need to ask this, Jimin. Are you really sure that you want to do this? Because I want to, so much. I need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Jimin surveyed him coolly. “You have no idea how much I want you, do you?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows raised.

Taking his boyfriend’s hand, Jimin rubbed it across his nipples, pert and clearly aroused. “Feel that?” he breathed, moving it slowly down the ridges of his defined stomach. Reaching the waistband of his unzipped trousers, he gently moved Taehyung’s hand inside them, guiding him to cup his now fully hard, leaking cock through his well-fitted boxer briefs. “Feel that, Tae? That’s how much I want you,” he whispered. “Now are you going to take me, or what?”

The moan that broke through from the depths of Taehyung’s chest as he crashed their lips together, hands busily working to relieve both of them from any further clothing restrictions, was more than enough of an answer for Jimin. At last, they were naked together, clothes discarded in the far corners of the room and the heat between them growing ever closer to boiling point. Taehyung, Jimin quickly realised, touched him with a reverence he’d never before felt from a lover. As his beautiful, long-fingered hands mapped and explored every contour of Jimin’s body, closely followed by his warm, seeking mouth, Jimin realised that this was how it felt to be truly loved. The tenderness in Taehyung’s gaze, the gentle firmness of his touch, the noises of sheer pleasured overwhelm all melded together to create a transcendent experience. When, after lavishing kisses across the expanse of his stomach and hipbones, Taehyung cheekily took the tip of Jimin’s cock into his mouth, he immediately saw stars. It was only after a hard squeeze to the base of his cock and a stern talking to himself that the urge to come subsided enough for Jimin to relax a little more.

“Tae, that feels too good,” Jimin murmured breathlessly. “I almost…”

Taehyung pulled off Jimin’s cock with a wicked grin. “Oh no,” he said teasingly. “I almost made you come? What a terrible thing to happen while we’re having sex.”

Jimin couldn’t help it. Laughter erupted from every pore of his body and he clutched Taehyung closer than ever, feeling utterly endeared. “You know what I mean, though,” he grumbled once he’d stopped laughing. “I kind of wanted to wait until you were inside me, first.”

Taehyung snorted. “You think I can’t make you come again?”

“Well, I don’t usually…”

“Correct me if I’m wrong. You have never had sex with me before, right?”

“…Right.”

“So how do you know? I just might surprise you.” Punctuating his words with an enigmatic grin, Taehyung proceeded to kiss his way down Jimin’s body once more. “I love the way you taste,” Taehyung declared as he nuzzled into Jimin’s neatly trimmed pubic hair. “You’re so delicious, Jimin. Every part of you.”

Jimin was just about ready to melt into a giggly mess. This time, when Taehyung took Jimin’s cock into his mouth, Jimin didn’t complain. Instead, he allowed himself to be carried away by the heat and urgency of sensation fizzing inside his body as Taehyung sucked, licked, slurped and moaned around him. When a particularly vivid wave of pleasure flooded his senses, Jimin’s hands buried themselves in Taehyung’s hair, making his boyfriend moan in surprise. Taehyung’s head began to bob a little faster, his tongue sliding more firmly and flicking over the slit of Jimin’s cock every time he raised his head. Galaxies of stars began to burst behind Jimin’s eyes as his body was set alight with a billion tiny fires. With a cry of Taehyung’s name, Jimin came in an explosion of sensation, his hips bucking, breath hitching, and head restlessly flailing from side to side until at last, he was spent. The moment Taehyung gently released Jimin’s cock, Jimin was pulling him up for a desperate kiss, licking into his mouth like it was the last thing he would do.

“OK?” Taehyung eventually murmured, stroking Jimin’s cheek with the utmost gentleness.

“Yeah. Just OK,” Jimin quipped, softening the joke with yet another kiss.

“I’ll work harder next time,” Taehyung teased.

As he shifted his hips, Jimin was reminded of a substantial problem between them. Substantial it was, too, its length and thickness quite astounding. Those grey sweatpants hadn’t lied… Feeling the evidence of Taehyung’s arousal had Jimin’s cock already filling again. Nipping at Taehyung’s bottom lip, Jimin’s tongue wordlessly asked for entrance. Taehyung was, of course, happy to oblige.

“Can I touch you?” Jimin asked, his hand already snaking down between their bodies.

“You can touch me wherever and whenever you want, Jimin,” Taehyung replied enthusiastically.

“Good,” he replied, his small fingers trying – and failing – to close around Taehyung’s cock. “Jeez, how do you manage to carry this thing around all the time? It must be exhausting,” he quipped, getting a real feel for its length and girth.

“Ah, you get used to it. I barely notice it’s there,” Taehyung replied. “Except for times like this, when I’m painfully aware.”

Again, Jimin couldn’t help but laugh. Sex had never been this much fun, before. But then again, as had been pointed out, he’d never had sex with Kim Taehyung.

It was only when Jimin’s hand crept back to Taehyung’s shoulder and he rocked his hips needily that his boyfriend pulled away with a knowing smirk.

“Someone’s ready for more. Can I prep you? I promise I’ll make it good,” he asked, leaving a kiss on Jimin’s button nose.

Jimin made a show of thinking about it. “On one condition,” he said seriously.

“Oh?”

“That you promise not to make me come on those ridiculously long fingers of yours. I need some energy left to fuck.”

Taehyung’s happy, carefree laugh had Jimin’s heart squeezing deep in his chest.

“Sure. Just let me get the lube,” Taehyung said, rolling over to one side of the bed.

When Taehyung was four fingers deep in him, Jimin had to admit that he was as good as his word. He’d only brushed over Jimin’s prostate once. When Jimin had jolted and moaned at the unexpected dart of pleasure, Taehyung had taken note and avoided the area from that moment on. Now, Jimin was desperate to be filled, to feel Taehyung’s hot cock splitting him open, his body caging him against the bed. “I’m ready, Tae,” Jimin pleaded, barely recognising his own voice through its haze of arousal.

Taehyung ceased his movements inside Jimin and gently pulled out his fingers. “You sure?” he asked as he rolled on a condom and lubed himself up. “We can take it slow. Let me know if you need to adjust.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and pulled Taehyung’s hips flush against his. “I won’t break,” he complained, eyes widening as the head of Taehyung’s cock began to open him up. “Ohhhhh yes, that’s it,” he encouraged as inch by inch, Taehyung sheathed himself inside. Wow, he was big. Jimin had never been filled up quite like this, or felt quite so… stuffed. For a moment they lay still, panting, only able to gaze deeply into each other’s eyes.

“You good?” Taehyung asked quietly.

Jimin nodded, leaned forward and kissed him. And with that, the ride began. Slowly at first, making sure Jimin was well adjusted to his size, Taehyung’s hips led them in a sensual dance. Jimin quickly realised that Taehyung’s cock was so large that there was no guesswork involved – he hit Jimin’s prostate with every stroke, leaving him strung out and gasping. “Oh fuck, Tae,” he cried out, meeting Taehyung’s thrusts with even more vigour. “More, more,” he begged, almost drooling into his lover’s mouth as Taehyung rammed into him, moving them both further and further up the bed. The intensity in Taehyung’s eyes took Jimin’s breath away, making him ever more desperate to get closer, closer, closer. Gripping Taehyung’s buttocks, Jimin began to guide his thrusts, crying out with every drag of his thick cock against his sensitive walls.

“You’re so beautiful, Jimin. I’ll never get enough of you,” Taehyung murmured, diving in to kiss Jimin’s neck.

“You’re incredible, Taehyung. I’ve never… felt… like this,” Jimin panted, each word an effort with the sheer delirious pace that Taehyung was fucking him.

“You deserve… to feel this good… all the time,” Taehyung gritted out, his hips pistoning sharply and muscled arms crushing Jimin against his broad chest.

The fizzing in Jimin’s veins hadn’t subsided completely after his first orgasm. As fire licked deep in his core, Jimin knew that his body was on the verge of yet another explosion. He needed Taehyung to know, to come with him. It was the only thing that seemed right.

“Tae, I’m close,” he whispered, in between the slapping of skin hitting skin and the wet squelch of lube being fucked back inside him.

“Oh, thank God,” Taehyung breathed, the strain in his voice painfully evident. “I’m about to explode. Can I…?” he asked as his hand closed around Jimin’s cock.

“Please,” Jimin whined. With Taehyung fucking him so perfectly, so sweetly, his large hand moving up and down on Jimin’s red, swollen cock, every nerve in his body burned with an unquenchable need. Until, at last, the dam broke inside him and he was coming with a wild scream that was unlike any sound he’d heard himself make before.

“Jimin,” Taehyung cried out, over and over as he spilled into the condom, the rhythmic clenching of Jimin’s muscles milking him of every last drop. “Oh, God, Jimin,” he breathed as he collapsed on top of his lover, pinning him to the bed.

“I love you, Kim Taehyung,” Jimin murmured sleepily, craning his neck to kiss him. The next thing he knew, Taehyung had pushed himself back up and was eyeing Jimin intently. “What the?” Jimin mumbled in confusion.

“Did you just say what I think you said?” Taehyung asked, his energy crackling like a livewire. “Did you really say that you love me?”

Jimin’s giddy laugh echoed throughout the room and he couldn’t resist placing a juicy peck on Taehyung’s rosy cheek. “Yes, baby. I did. I love you,” he repeated, dissolving into laughter yet again as Taehyung began to wriggle around with pure joy.

“You love me. I love you. We’re in love,” Taehyung declared, swinging Jimin’s hands around excitedly.

“Can we talk about this some more after I’ve had a nap? You did make me come twice, after all,” Jimin complained cheekily.

Taehyung grinned. Carefully pulling himself free, he darted out of bed. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, returning with a warm, damp towel with which he proceeded to clean Jimin up. “There you go. Now you can sleep more comfortably,” he murmured. Having disposed of the condom and cleaned himself up too, Taehyung crawled underneath the covers beside his love. Drawing Jimin into his arms, he left gentle kisses on his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks and his lips until Jimin’s breathing had evened out and he was fast asleep. Before sleep pulled him into its warm embrace, Taehyung’s last thought was, How the hell did I get this lucky?

*****

As Seokjin pulled his AMG G-63 into the underground garage of his home, he breathed a sigh of pure relief. The press conference had been harrowing, of that there was no doubt. But it was over now, and whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He couldn’t wait to be properly alone, sinking into a warm bath in his sanctuary, and ignoring all phone calls. Although he did acknowledge that he should call Jeongguk. Which he would do, as soon as he’d poured himself a whisky. He could already taste the smoky sweetness of his favourite tipple as the elevator arrived at the ground floor. About to head directly for his sanctuary, he was forced to stop as the doorbell rang. Who on earth… he thought to himself, frozen to the spot.

“Seokjin! Open up! I demand that you let me in!” his father’s voice called, angry and sharp.

Throwing open the front door, Seokjin’s eyes blazed with unconcealed fury. “What are you doing here, father?” he demanded. “I thought I’d made it perfectly clear that you are not welcome in my house.”

His father smiled smugly. “Oh, my boy, I know you didn’t mean that. You wouldn’t shut your own father out in the cold, now, would you? After everything I’ve done for you?”

Seokjin scoffed. “After what? The pressure you’ve put on me to be coldly perfect? To never feel, never express my own truth? And for what, exactly? It’s not like you ever truly loved me,” he spat, darkly enjoying the hurt that flashed in his father’s eyes.

“Seokjin, you know you’d be nothing without me. I’m the only one who will ever truly love you,” his father intoned dangerously. “Don’t you forget that. You might think your shiny new teammate could love you. But you’ll disappoint him, just like you disappoint everyone else in your life, Seokjin. I am the only person who will always be on your side.”

A surge of conflicting emotions flooded Seokjin. Perhaps his father was right. Perhaps he could never truly be loved for who he was… Wait, he thought, he’s trying to manipulate you. Don’t fall for it. Pulling himself together, Seokjin stared directly into his father’s eyes.

“You have never been on my side, father. The only person whose side you’re on is yourself,” he said quietly. “It’s taken me thirty-two years to understand. Now that I finally do, I’ve realised that there is no place for you in my life. Please leave,” Seokjin finished coldly, turning around to close the door.

“Fucking faggot!” his father yelled. “Mincing around the place and letting other men fuck you. What kind of a man does that? Certainly not my son.”

Seokjin laughed mirthlessly. “You’ve got that right. Certainly not your son. From today onwards, I am no longer your son. Now get the fuck off my property.”

“You’re pathetic! You’re nothing without me, don’t you forget that,” his father raged impotently.

With venom dripping from his gaze, Seokjin slammed the door in the man’s face.

He remained stoic all the way up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom. It was only once he slipped into the warm bath he’d drawn himself, safe in his sanctuary, that the tears began to fall. Deep, harsh gasps penetrated the room as Seokjin tried desperately to regain control of his breathing. In the midst of his breakdown, his phone began to ring. Momentarily shocked out of himself, Seokjin glanced at it.

Jeon Jeongguk, the display flashed before him.

Unthinkingly, Seokjin snatched it up. “Guk?” he said tentatively, his voice barely sounding like his own.

“Jin,” Jeongguk replied, the warmth in his voice setting Seokjin’s tears free once again. “I know this is probably the dumbest question ever, but are you OK?”

The fact that Jeongguk had bothered to ask that question felt like a miracle to Seokjin. Jeongguk was so considerate, so kind and warm… the only person in Seokjin’s life who truly treated him like he mattered. Without overthinking it, he blurted out, “Can you come over? I need to see you.”

Jeongguk’s shock was clearly audible in the silence.

When he eventually recovered enough to speak, he said, “Are you sure? You really want me to come over to your house? It’s just that normally we meet elsewhere-“

“Guk, I’m so sorry that I haven’t invited you here before. Tonight, though, I’d really like for you to be here with me. If that’s all right with you.”

“Of course it’s all right with me, Jin,” Jeongguk rushed out. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, is that OK?”

“Just drive safely. I care about you, you know?” Seokjin murmured gently before hanging up the call. 

Fifteen minutes later, Seokjin was dry and semi-dressed in silk boxers and his favourite robe. Perhaps not suitably attired for visitors in any other circumstances. But this was Jeongguk. He could be himself with Jeongguk.

The doorbell chimed, making Seokjin jump. Jeongguk was here! Suddenly, the distance between the lounge room and the front door seemed almost insurmountable. Seokjin needed to see Jeongguk, to pull his lover into his arms and feel his heart beating alongside his own. Rushing to the door, Seokjin quickly checked his camera to ensure that it was the person he’d been waiting for. Satisfied, he flung open the door.

“Hi, Guk.”

“Hi, Jin.”

“Will you come inside?”

Jeongguk bit his lip nervously. “Are you sure you want me to do that?”

Grabbing his arm, Seokjin pulled Jeongguk inside. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

As the door closed behind them, Seokjin drew Jeongguk into his arms, holding him as though he would never let go. For a few moments, Jeongguk remained stiff and still. It was only when Seokjin’s tears began to sink into the dark cotton of his t-shirt that Jeongguk’s arms came up to fasten around Seokjin’s waist. “You’re here,” Seokjin murmured, “you came to see me.”

“Of course I did, silly,” Jeongguk said warmly. “You needed me, so here I am.”

Pulling away, Seokjin gazed into Jeongguk’s eyes. The warmth and concern that was present in them almost knocked him off his feet. His touch was so gentle as he led Seokjin over to sit on the sofa. As soon as they were settled, Jeongguk immediately put an arm around him, allowing Seokjin to nuzzle into his shoulder.

“What you did at the press conference was so brave, Jin,” Jeongguk told him. “The whole time, I wished I could be there with you, facing all those asshole reporters down.”

Seokjin’s father’s words flashed through his mind. I’m the only one who will ever truly love you. I am the only person who will always be on your side, he had claimed. As he looked into Jeongguk’s fathomlessly deep brown eyes, the real truth shone warm and bright. With Jeongguk, he was safe.

He was loved.

“Guk-ah?” Seokjin began gently, nerves flooding through him at what he was about to say.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for everything. For all the lies, the cover-ups. All the distance I put between us because I simply didn’t know how to cross it,” he began, searching Jeongguk’s face for clues. When he was met with only kindness and understanding, Seokjin gathered his courage once more. “I’m also sorry for being too scared to say this to you before. Because when I’m truly honest with myself, I know that it’s been the truth for some time.” Glancing up shyly, he murmured, “I love you, Jeon Jeongguk. I really wanted you to know that.”

Jeongguk gasped, clasping his hand to his heart. Without a word, he drew Seokjin close to his chest, rubbing circles into his back as the tears continued to fall down his cheeks. For long moments they simply breathed each other in, no words needing to be said.

“I love you too, Kim Seokjin,” Jeongguk eventually uttered, every word landing like a caress. “I love you so much… I’m glad you finally told me,” he admitted, burrowing his head in Seokjin’s neck as they held each other tight.

Whatever their future held, they knew they would face it together.

*****

Marina Bay Street Circuit, Singapore

“I’m just saying, Tae, nobody ever made that assumption when you were seen out and about with Domi,” Jimin pointed out.

“Look, it’s not my fault the press are idiots,” Taehyung retorted. “I mean, we were clearly on a date. We held hands the entire time. What other proof do these people need?”

Jimin swallowed down on his anger. There was really no point in getting upset about this when they had a race weekend to consider. And yet, when he’d gleefully scanned the headlines in the days after his and Taehyung’s first public date, his disappointment had been intense.

“Kim Taehyung seen on a friendly outing with his performance coach.”

“Championship leader takes good care of his staff.”

“Friendship blossoms for Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin.”

“Kim Taehyung is lucky to have such a good buddy at work.”

“Friends!” Jimin had sputtered to himself in disbelief. “If only they’d seen what had happened after the date they wouldn’t be talking such bullshit.”

Although Jimin was a relatively private person, a part of him had looked forward to the world knowing that Taehyung was his, and he was Taehyung’s. The problem was, it seemed as though the world was refusing to get it.

Taehyung’s voice interrupted Jimin’s thoughts as they approached the entrance to the circuit. “Hold my hand,” he muttered, reaching out.

“Why now?” Jimin complained grumpily.

“Just do it,” Taehyung sighed, clasping his hand tightly.

Running the gamut of reporters as they passed through the security checks, Jimin overheard someone say, “Oh, isn’t that sweet! His bestie is holding his hand, probably making sure Taehyung doesn’t run off and get into trouble.”

“Fucksake,” Jimin muttered under his breath.

Taehyung sighed. “Look, we can deal with this later, OK? Don’t let it get inside your head.”

“Seokjin, over here!” a reporter called, one of many vying for Kim Seokjin’s attention. He wasn’t particularly keen to give it to any of them, though. “Where’s your teammate?” another, more brazen journalist called. Refusing to dignify it with a response, Seokjin stared directly ahead. He hoped Jeongguk wouldn’t have to face similar invasions of his privacy. Yet, he knew that particular hope was futile. One thing that would never change was the voraciousness of the press when it came to getting a scoop.

Half an hour later, Jeongguk attempted to duck past the gamut of press by disguising his gait and wearing sunglasses and a cap pulled low. Naturally, it didn’t work. “Jeongguk! This way!” “Is it true you’re in a sexual relationship with your teammate?” “How does that work when one of you always ends up on top?” “Haha, good one!” With a disgusted grimace contorting his handsome features, Jeongguk simply ploughed through until he was rid of their jeering voices.

*****

Min Yoongi stared at the text he’d just received, feeling oddly nervous. If things went the way they’d planned, his existence was about to get explosive. Yoongi liked a quiet life. This was definitely out of his comfort zone. And still, needs must…

Kim Namjoon (16.47):

The stage is set. All it needs is the other main character.

Meet me in my suite on Sunday night, an hour after the race.

Well, he supposed he’d agreed to it now. Yoongi wasn’t the type to go back on his word.

*****

Ten minutes after qualifying had been due to start, the green flag still wasn’t out. The reason for this was obvious – the track bore more resemblance to a river than a street circuit. They’d brought out the sweepers to remove as much water as possible, but they were fighting a losing battle given how much was currently falling from the sky.

“Another fifteen minutes delay,” Namjoon informed his drivers, both of them clearly bored and frustrated. “The radar says the rain is due to slow down a lot in five minutes’ time.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Jeongguk muttered under his breath. Seokjin caught his eyes in mute understanding. They were racers, they just wanted to get out on track and qualify. All these safety protocols were turning the sport into a daycare.

“Hyungsikkie, any news?” Taehyung asked, frustration clear on his face. They’d already been delayed for thirty minutes and the expected announcement of a new start time had still not come.

“Not yet, Tae.”

“Oh for f- Argh! We have full wet tyres, why aren’t we allowed to use them?” Taehyung raged.

“It’s more about the visibility, Tae. Right now the verdict is that it’s not good enough and could cause terrible accidents.”

“Yeah, for those amongst us who can’t drive,” Taehyung mumbled.

“Try to be patient, Tae. Maybe go and see Jimin?”

Taehyung doubted that would calm him down, today. Jimin had been irrationally angry ever since the ‘friendship’ headlines had appeared. Even holding hands while arriving at the circuit had done nothing but make people coo over their ‘bromance’. Taehyung had a plan to solve the problem, but the circumstances needed to be right. He’d asked Jimin to trust him, but his boyfriend wasn’t yet able to let go of his frustration. Honestly, Taehyung didn’t understand why the public were refusing to get it. He’d had boyfriends before, and nobody had misread that. Taehyung had always been open about the fact that he liked both men and women equally. In fact, he’d been linked with every handsome man he’d ever spent more than five minutes with – some of them with no real cause. So why weren’t the press on to him and Jimin? It didn’t make any sense.

“Tae. We’ve just received word that qualifying is due to start in ten minutes’ time,” Hyungsik cut into his thoughts.

Taehyung sighed and pushed his uncomfortable thoughts to the back of his mind. He had a job to do.

“Wow, the visibility out here is really poor,” Seokjin radioed from his out-lap.

“Just do your best, Jin. Nobody’s going to set the world alight today,” Yoongi reminded him.

“If I can keep it out of the wall, I’ll be happy,” Seokjin said flatly.

Keep it out of the wall, he did, although the time was only good enough for tenth on the board. With the top fifteen going through to Qualifying 2, he was safe for now. Still, he preferred to have more wiggle room.

“What position is Jeongguk in?” he asked faux-casually.

“P9, Jin. Less than half a tenth faster than you.”

“And Kim Taehyung?”

“P11, half a tenth behind.”

Seokjin breathed a sigh of relief knowing that his two biggest rivals were in a similar situation.

On his second lap, Seokjin hit a patch of water and aquaplaned – managing to regain control just in time to avoid the barriers, he still lost too much time for the lap to count. Mortified, he saw his name drop to P15. The track was improving, though, leaving Seokjin feeling optimistic for his third attempt. Rightly so, as it turned out, because Kim Seokjin was absolutely flying around the ever-drying track. He was three corners from the end when his dashboard suddenly flashed up with double yellow flags.

“No, no, NO!” he yelled, sheer frustration getting the better of him. He simply had to lift or he’d be getting a major grid penalty. When he finally crossed the line, he hoped for a miracle.

Yoongi quickly put paid to that. “I’m really sorry, Jin. That’s P20. I repeat, P20. Look, it’s a long race tomorrow and anything can happen-“

“Save it, Yoongi,” Seokjin cut him off. “Let me lick my wounds for a bit.”

Jeongguk’s fortunes weren’t much better, his final lap only good enough to land him in P16.

“Guk, I’m sorry, but that’s P16. You will not be advancing,” Yeonjun informed him delicately.

“Not your fault, Jjunie. I just wasn’t fast enough,” Jeongguk replied. “How about Seokjin?

“Uh. Your teammate is in P20,” Yeonjun said, sounding slightly embarrassed.

“Shit,” Jeongguk cursed, his heart clenching with pain for his teammate and lover.

This was the first time in several years that neither of the Silver Bullets cars had made it past the first qualifying session. The mood, when they had returned to the garage, was positively funereal. Seated side by side, they stared at the monitors as the other two qualifying sessions continued without them.

“How’d I do, Hyungsikkie?” Taehyung asked wearily, genuinely worried that he hadn’t made it past Q1.

“Your position is P13, Tae. Time to get ready for Q2.”

“Oh thank God,” Taehyung breathed in sheer relief. The conditions had indeed been treacherous. While it wasn’t his best lap around Marina Bay by any stretch of the imagination, at least he’d felt decently in control. Which was more than he could say for Minghao, who had caused a double waved yellow in the final moments of Q1. The Chinese driver’s car had managed to escape too much damage, but he would be starting on the back row in P19. Deliciously, though, he’d be starting right next to Kim Seokjin. Taehyung couldn’t help the frisson that ran through him when he learned that His Majesty would start the race in last place.

Visor back down, he prepared to drive out on to the track once more. With one hot lap on the board, Taehyung wasn’t feeling particularly safe from elimination.

“You’re sitting in P10 after that first lap, Tae. Just on the bubble,” Hyungsik informed him.

“Damn it,” Taehyung hissed. He’d really thrown everything he had behind that lap. Perhaps his setup simply wasn’t appropriate for the weather? Tough luck, he couldn’t change it now. Taehyung managed to go slightly faster on his second attempt, but all he could do, though, was wait until all the other cars had come across the line.

“Lay it on me, Hyungsikkie,” he drawled tentatively once all the times had come in.

Hyungsik paused for a moment. “Tae, I’m sorry. That’s P13. You’ll be starting from the seventh row tomorrow, I’m afraid.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” he replied, his voice small and tired. Once he’d returned to the garage, Taehyung slumped into a chair and prepared to watch Q3 from the outside. Something he was no longer used to doing.

“Tae?” Jimin’s silvery voice murmured, a soft hand landing on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. At least there’s still tomorrow,” he said gently.

Unable to stop himself, Taehyung’s arms slid around Jimin’s waist and he buried his face in his boyfriend’s firm stomach.

“Oh,” Jimin uttered. The astonished looks of the rest of the team weighed heavily on his shoulders. But Jimin could worry about that later. Far more important was the wellbeing of his love. Stroking his hair, he soothed, “Tae, it’s all right. You can still make something out of this. You’re Kim Taehyung, and don’t you forget it.”

“Thank goodness you’re here with me,” Taehyung murmured, his words muffled by the fact that he refused to remove his face from Jimin’s stomach.

But Jimin could hear him, which was all that mattered in that particular moment.

*****

Jeongguk and Seokjin arrived at the track separately on Sunday, as they usually did. However, they’d spent every moment together from when they’d arrived at the hotel until it was time to leave again on race day. With neither of them feeling much in the mood for physical pleasure, they’d curled up in bed and watched Iron Man. Seokjin had seen it multiple times already, but even he was astonished by Jeongguk’s positively encyclopaedic knowledge of the script and the way he recited lines even before the characters onscreen. There was an uncomplicated joy in spending time indulging in such simple pleasures, Seokjin realised. For most of his life he hadn’t allowed it. Or, he thought, was it the image of my father sitting on my shoulder that didn’t allow it? Life was about more than work, more than just achievement. It had taken Kim Seokjin until his thirties to learn that lesson but now that he had, he wasn’t about to let it go.  

Taehyung, however, had indulged in a rather different type of Saturday night. It seemed that his first date with Jimin had unleashed the beast in his boyfriend, and when they were alone, Jimin could barely keep his hands off Taehyung any more. Or his mouth, for that matter. This had led to a situation in which, five minutes after they’d arrived back at the hotel, Jimin was on his knees in the shower with Taehyung’s fat cock lodged halfway down his throat. Talk about a good way to leave behind the stresses of a poor qualifying session… Of course, Taehyung had insisted upon returning the favour, the sound of Jimin’s pleasured moans echoing through the tiled bathroom like the sweetest of love songs. They’d had a break for dinner after that, snuggling together on the sofa afterwards and flicking through the channels on TV. Jimin had lain practically on top of him, pressing their bodies together in every way possible. After a while, Taehyung had noticed that Jimin was beginning to appear restless.

“Why can’t you keep still?” he teased. “Do you need me to lay on top of you to stop you from moving?”

Something feral flashed in Jimin’s distinctly feline eyes. “I dare you,” he goaded him, wriggling his ass in the air. “I dare you to lay on top of me.”

Taehyung gulped. He knew that look all too well. Inevitably, it meant that Jimin was going to get precisely what he wanted.

For a brief moment, Jimin’s expression softened. “How are you feeling physically, Tae? Energy levels OK?”

Taehyung knew that if he told Jimin he wasn’t feeling up to it, his boyfriend would let him be. But the fact was, Taehyung was an extremely fit man, and he had a little extra energy in the tank from not having to participate in Q3. What better way to use it?

“Feeling on top of the world, Jimin-ah. Energy to burn,” he said casually.

With a strangled noise, Jimin lunged at him, kissing Taehyung with such intensity he was certain he would melt into the sofa. Fast forward to twenty minutes later and Jimin was kneeling on the floor, his knees protected by a sofa cushion as Taehyung fucked into him from behind, his hands possessively clutching at Jimin’s body with every thrust. With the hungry way Jimin rocked his hips back on to Taehyung’s cock, both of them were catapulted into the clouds of delight before they’d even settled into a rhythm.

“Holy shit, Tae,” Jimin whined, froze, then came untouched all over himself. The sight, sound and feel of it pushed Taehyung immediately over the edge with a helpless wail. The moment his cock had stopped pulsing, Taehyung hugged Jimin tightly around the waist, laying his cheek against his boyfriend’s sweaty back.

“I’m so glad I have a friend like you,” he teased. “Ouch!” he cried out as Jimin slapped his hand.

“How dare you say such things with your dick still inside me?” Jimin howled, faux-scandalised. “This bromance is over.”

Taehyung began to giggle uncontrollably, his softening cock slipping right out of Jimin’s abused hole.

“Aargh! That feels so weird! Warn a guy first next time!” Jimin shrieked.

Flipping Jimin over, Taehyung tackled him to the floor. “I demand cuddles,” he declared. “I’ve got a big race tomorrow and I’m feeling very sensitive.”

“You big baby,” Jimin teased, booping his nose. “But since I’m just your buddy, why don’t you go and ask your boyfriend? Oh wait,” he trailed off, faking a confused expression that had Taehyung laughing yet again.

“I love you, my beautiful boyfriend,” Taehyung said sincerely, giving Jimin a short but intense kiss on the lips. “I will fix this. Trust me?”

Rolling his eyes, Jimin couldn’t help but agree. “All right, Tae, I’ll trust you,” he acquiesced.

*****

Well, it wasn’t raining. That was a relief to Seokjin as the cars formed up on the grid ahead of him. Rain plus a night race usually equalled drama, and that wasn’t what Seokjin was after, today. This wasn’t the first time he’d started a race from last place. However, it was the first time in nine years that he found himself in this unfortunate position. He hoped that his car would be better suited to the dry conditions. But unless something spectacularly unusual happened, he knew a race win wasn’t on the cards. The King would dig deep to find some of his old magic, though. If he was honest with himself, Seokjin had to admit that a part of him was excited about starting last. This was a chance to prove to himself what he was capable of doing when things hadn’t gone his way. Sure, there were nineteen other cars ahead of him as the lights went out to start the race. He could only hope that there wouldn’t be nineteen other cars ahead of him when he crossed the finish line.

Seokjin had been so preoccupied with his own position, and that of his rivals, that he’d barely given a moment’s thought to the fact that the MacPhersons had achieved a front row lockout. A brilliant result for their team, and one that cemented the fact that they were firmly in the ascendancy. By the time he’d actually thought about it again, it was the end of Lap 3 and he was already up to P15.

“Nice work, Jin. The King still reigns,” Yoongi encouraged over the radio.

“It’s a long race ahead,” Seokjin jokingly warned him.

As Seokjin scythed through the cars as though they were standing still, Yoongi had a quiet moment of pride in his driver. He’d been Seokjin’s race engineer since his very first race at the Silver Bullets team. When he was the young upstart ready to shake things up… oh, how long ago that seemed.

Halfway through the race, Seokjin was already up to P8. Admittedly, he’d been lucky with the timing of his pitstop in relation to a safety car brought out by Kim Mingyu hitting the wall, but Seokjin proudly realised that most of it was all down to him and his clever, strategic driving. Let it not be forgotten that The King had an unbelievable turn of speed. In recent times it had been overshadowed by the imperious nature of his dominance. Seokjin had often been compared to Alain Prost, who was famously quoted as saying he wanted to “win the race at the slowest speed possible.” But sometimes, like today, he relished putting his foot to the floor and absolutely flying. Winning a race from an untroubled pole position had become The King’s brand, but Seokjin loved to remind people that he was capable of more than just that.

“Next car up ahead is your teammate,” Yoongi informed him. “Jeongguk knows not to defend too aggressively. But you know what he’s like,” he added.

Indeed I do, Seokjin thought. While Jeongguk was still a rookie, he certainly didn’t drive like one. The last thing he would want to do was let Seokjin through without any form of defence. Not for the first time, Seokjin wished he could talk to Jeongguk directly via team radio… But there was little time for such thoughts as Turn 7 approached and he noticed Jeongguk struggle with some oversteer. With his racing brain fully engaged, Seokjin darted down the inside of the corner and surged ahead, wrong-footing Jeongguk and flitting off into the distance.

“Sorry, Guk,” Yeonjun commiserated with his driver. “Seokjin is on fire today.”

Jeongguk had a brief flash of pride, quickly replaced by annoyance at his teammate’s audacity. Oh, it would be fun to discuss this later…

Well, it could be worse, Taehyung reflected as Kim Seokjin flew past him, his rear wing wide open, lending him speed that Taehyung simply couldn’t match. He was still in the points, with twelve laps to go. Given he’d started outside the top ten, that was a decent comeback. His Majesty, however, seemed to be on a mission. If the race was a little longer, and Taehyung was a betting man, he’d lay money on Kim Seokjin taking the win. However, he didn’t believe that even The King had quite enough time to manage that today. Chris Bang was fifteen seconds up the road from Seokjin, in second place, with Felix Lee a further two and a half seconds in the lead. As he was contemplating Kim Seokjin’s race strategy, the other Silver Bullet suddenly appeared in his mirrors and Taehyung had bigger problems on his plate. Ramping up his speed just a little, he quickly got on the back of Kai Huening’s Hayes, making a ridiculous overtake around the outside of a corner that had the crowd on their feet. To his chagrin, Jeongguk followed him through once they’d reached Turn 7 – a much more traditional overtaking spot. The pair continued to dart past slower cars, almost in tandem.

“Last lap, Guk,” Yeonjun informed him. “You’re in P6 right now. Do you think you could get Taehyung at Turn 7?”

“I’ll do my best,” Jeongguk muttered, fervently hoping for a mistake from the Stallions driver.

This time, nothing was forthcoming and Kim Taehyung held on to his hard-fought fifth place. Jeongguk followed him over the line, less than half a second down. The King, however, had pulled off a near-miracle: finishing in third place after starting down in twentieth.

“Now that was a drive worthy of royalty,” Namjoon boomed over the team radio. “Kim Seokjin, you are a superstar and don’t you forget it. From the back of the grid to third place? Who is out there doing it like you?”

A third place usually wasn’t too much to celebrate, in Seokjin’s mind. But today, it felt almost sweeter than a win. Teary-eyed, he thanked Namjoon and the team for all their hard work. Before ending his radio message, he couldn’t help but ask, “Where did Guk finish?”

Namjoon laughed lightly. “P6. He had a great drive.”

“Ten places gained. That’s impressive,” Seokjin said quietly.

“That’s as it should be from the most impressive driver pairing on the grid,” Namjoon declared.

With no podium ceremony to attend, Jeongguk and Taehyung were able to slip away after talking briefly with the press. Jeongguk was still having to steer conversation away from speculation about his relationship with Seokjin. Taehyung, on the other hand, was actively trying to stir up a buzz about himself and Jimin.

“Any plans for the rest of tonight, Taehyung?” the attractive young reporter asked, batting her lashes and simpering a little.

“I thought I might stay in and cuddle with Jimin,” he said nonchalantly, hoping his boyfriend was listening.

“Aww, that’s so sweet! You two have such a wholesome friendship,” the reporter cooed.

Taehyung had to forcibly stop himself from punching something. He’d have to pull out the big guns, it seemed… But all in good time.

When Seokjin finally managed to get to the cool-down room after a brief celebration with his team, Chris Bang greeted him with a cheesy grin. “Dude! How did you get up here? Didn’t you start last?”

Felix Lee arched an eyebrow, a sly smile on his face. “Chris, you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. That’s The King right there. We’re not worthy,” he teased good-naturedly.

Seokjin couldn’t hold back his smile. “I got lucky today,” he admitted.

Chris and Felix both snort-laughed. “I don’t think luck had much to do with it,” Chris pointed out. “Skill, experience, and sheer talent did, though. Congratulations.”

Seokjin had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to receive such wholehearted praise from his peers.

*****

Hoseok re-read the text message just to be certain that he wasn’t seeing things.

Kim Namjoon (23.55)

Hoba, I need to see you.

Let yourself in, I’ll be in the shower.

My room code is 6487.

Joonie xx

“Finally,” Hoseok muttered under his breath. With a spring in his step, he raced into the bathroom to clean himself up, making sure he was as thorough as possible while still being quick. He didn’t give too much thought to what he’d wear – he wouldn’t be wearing it for long, anyway – quickly dressing in a team polo and some baggy denim shorts before racing out the door. The elevator ride to the penthouse suites seemed to take an eternity. Or perhaps Hoseok was just horny. Once he’d finally arrived at Namjoon’s door, it took Hoseok three tries to enter the code correctly with his shaking fingers. At last, it beeped and he was granted access. Quietly, he tiptoed in, wanting to surprise Namjoon with his arrival in the bathroom. Hoseok could hear the shower running and imagined the warm droplets cascading over Namjoon’s muscular pecs, his defined abs, and those enormously thick thighs. Oh, and what was between those thighs… Hoseok only hoped he was stretched enough to fully appreciate it.

As was usually the case, Namjoon’s suite was enormous, decorated with understated luxury. Hoseok had to pass through a living room, a kitchen and a sitting room before he reached the door to the bedroom, behind which he could hear the hissing of running water. Taking a deep breath to steady his excitement, Hoseok gently turned the door handle and stepped inside the bedroom.

What he saw there had him frozen to the spot.

Namjoon lay on the bed, shirtless, with his arms around another shirtless man. They were kissing – no, better yet, they were devouring each other’s mouths with an intensity that had Hoseok feeling sick to the stomach. The breathy moans that emanated from their direction told Hoseok that neither of them had noticed his entrance, nor were they aware they were being watched.

But the worst part, the very worst part of all of this was that the man who was entangled with Namjoon was none other than Min Yoongi.

His Yoongi.

With his Namjoon.

Hoseok couldn’t bring himself to make a sound as the scene before him continued to unfold uninterrupted. Namjoon’s hands found a home in Yoongi’s soft hair as they rolled over so that Yoongi was now above him.

That was the moment Hoseok decided he had seen enough. He turned and ran out of the room, out of the suite, eschewing the elevator and down the many flights of stairs until he could finally get outside. The thick, humid air of the Singapore evening did little to fill his aching lungs. Bent over and gasping, Hoseok’s heart shattered into a million tiny shards as his mind replayed the scene over and over again.

You deserved this, a small voice inside him whispered. You did this to yourself.

Chapter Text

It was Namjoon’s deep, resonant moan that shook Yoongi out of his kiss-induced stupor. Pushing him away, Yoongi scrambled into a seated position.

“Joon. Did Hoseok come in? Did he see?”

Namjoon blinked dazedly. “Uh. Yeah. I think so.”

“You think so? What the hell were you paying attention to, then?” Yoongi said in disbelief. “Oh my God, where is my shirt?” he panicked, jumping off the bed in a frantic search for the missing garment. “Why did I take it off? What the fuck was I thinking?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head and absolutely refusing to look in Namjoon’s direction.

“Yoongi-“

“I’m out of here, Joon. I’ll see you back at team HQ.”

“Don’t you want to come back to Seoul in the jet with me?” Namjoon asked.

“I think it would be best if I didn’t, don’t you?” Yoongi replied, his voice steely and flat. Without waiting for an answer, Yoongi left, the door of Namjoon’s suite making an empty thud as it closed behind him.

Namjoon stared down at his bare chest, desperately willing his heart rate to return to normal.

*****

Circuit of the Americas, Austin, United States of America

“Just five more minutes,” Seokjin whined as Jeongguk tried yet again to nudge him into action.

“You’ve had fifteen, Jin,” he sighed. “We’re due at the team briefing in an hour and you know what traffic is like around here.”

“Don’t wanna,” Seokjin grumbled, turning away from Jeongguk.

“Right, that’s it,” Jeongguk declared. With a flourish, he pulled the duvet away from Seokjin’s naked form and threw it to one corner of the room.

“Aaargh!” Seokjin screeched, his eyes flying wide open. He’d been so comfortable. How dare Jeongguk be so unfair? “You can sleep in your own room tonight,” he said tartly.

Jeongguk snorted. “Why would I do that when yours is so much nicer? When my salary starts getting close to that of a three-time world champ then I’ll sleep in my own room.”

Seokjin mused to himself that Jeongguk was growing more audacious by the day. Still, he was becoming used to having him curled into his body as they slept, his dormant face the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning. Perhaps it was time to admit to himself that he actually slept better when Jeongguk was beside him…

As he dragged himself through the shower, Seokjin pondered the fact that while he was now publicly out, his relationship with Jeongguk had still not been officially confirmed. The truth was, they hadn’t talked about it. Part of Seokjin wondered whether it was a good idea to muddle business and pleasure quite so obviously – although really, they were already doing that, albeit behind closed doors – and yet, a tender, brand-new part of him yearned to tell the world about his love. The photo of Jeongguk squeezing his ass that had precipitated Seokjin’s press conference had quickly faded into obscurity, as the announcement that The King was gay had taken over and gained traction. Perhaps, Seokjin thought, they were focusing on the wrong thing. Did it really matter what gender he was attracted to? Far more important, Seokjin mused, was the fact that he was in love with someone who made his heart soar every time his thoughts drifted toward him.

I guess I really love him, Seokjin thought tenderly. Hurriedly, he finished up his shower so that he could go and kiss Jeongguk silly before they absolutely had to leave for the circuit. Maybe later they could have a talk about making their relationship public.

*****

While Taehyung was used to being the star driver in the Stallions team, he had to admit that it was rather nice to take a backseat to his teammate in the eyes of the press. Being here, at the Circuit of the Americas, was definitely one of those times. The hugely America-centric press had eyes mostly for Vernon Chwe, and to a lesser extent, Joshua Hong. Thanks to that, Taehyung felt as though he’d been allowed off the hook just a little. He strode into the circuit casually, hand tightly locked with Jimin’s – as had become the norm. They both gave the press a quick wave but passed largely unbothered by the rows of reporters waiting for their homegrown heroes. So relieved to have passed by without getting stopped by a plethora of stupid questions, Taehyung didn’t notice Jimin’s furious expression. It wasn’t until they’d done their usual visualisation work before the first practice session, with Jimin sweeping out of the room without so much as a goodbye, that Taehyung wondered if he’d done something wrong. However, there wasn’t much time to think about it as the rest of the day was jam-packed. As it was a sprint weekend, they would only have one practice session before sprint qualifying, with the sprint race on Saturday at lunchtime and Grand Prix qualifying a few hours after that. The racer in Taehyung adored sprint weekends, thriving on the pressure of having to make everything count. But the lover in Taehyung, the soft boy who just wanted to spend time cuddling up with his boyfriend, was forced to retreat into the background.

First practice turned out to be reasonably successful, with Taehyung ending the session in second place behind Jeon Jeongguk. Kim Seokjin, of course, followed closely in third. Vernon had pulled out a decent fourth place which he was hoping to repeat in sprint qualifying. When Taehyung returned to the garage post-session, Jimin was nowhere to be seen, leaving him feeling oddly empty. Pulling his phone out of the safe in his driver room, Taehyung shot off a quick text.

Kim Taehyung (11.57):

Babe, where are you?

I request snuggles.

Staring at his phone for seemingly endless minutes with no word from Jimin, Taehyung was just about to give up when a text message pinged through.

Park Jimin (12.11):

Sorry Tae. Hobi needs me right now.

I’ll come and see you before qualifying, I promise.

Reading Jimin’s text, Taehyung’s heart plummeted toward his shoes. Of course he wouldn’t get in the way of Jimin being a supportive friend, but he missed him… Vaguely, he wondered what exactly Jung Hoseok needed Jimin for. He figured Jimin would probably tell him later. For now, it was time to fuel his body up before qualifying.

*****

“I just can’t be in the same place as either of them right now,” Hoseok explained after blurting out to Jimin the latest in his romantic woes. “Whenever I see either of their faces my mind immediately flashes back to that night. The two of them, shirtless and wrapped up in each other. They looked so into it, Jiminie, you have no idea…” Hoseok trailed off.

Jimin’s heart ached for his friend. While he had his own opinions about the way Hoseok had handled his love life, he didn’t enjoy seeing him so hurt. Struggling to find the right words to comfort him, he patted Hoseok on the shoulder in mute support.

“The worst part is that I can’t even blame them,” Hoseok sighed. “I deserved this. I brought it all on myself.”

Jimin’s phone buzzed and he quickly glanced down at it. Seeing it was from Taehyung, he slid the phone into his pocket. He hadn’t told Hoseok that he and Taehyung were official, yet, and frankly, now didn’t seem like the right time to drop such a bombshell. Hoping the text wasn’t urgent, he ignored it and returned his attention to Hoseok’s heavy story. By the time Hoseok had paused for breath and Jimin could retrieve his phone from his pocket, almost fifteen minutes had passed. He dashed off a quick text to Taehyung and the very second he’d finished, Hoseok was speaking again.

“Jimin-ah, do you think you could have lunch with me today? Only I don’t want to be alone in case I run into one of them,” Hoseok admitted. “God, why did I have to shit where I eat? Getting involved with people you work with is a recipe for disaster,” he added, shaking his head.

Jimin’s stomach lurched as Hoseok’s warning sank in. He doesn’t mean you and Taehyung, Jimin told himself. But… did he? Could he? Was falling in love with his coworker simply a huge mistake that would come back to bite him if things turned sour? If Taehyung suddenly decided that Jimin was no longer what he wanted, what then? Everything was sweeter than sweet right now, but realistically, how long could that possibly last? And then, not only would Jimin be single again, he'd probably be out of a job, too…

Shoving his own trepidation into a dark corner of his mind, Jimin focused on being a good friend to Hoseok. Right now, that meant taking him to lunch.

*****

Sitting in his usual position at the Silver Bullets team briefing that morning, Yoongi had felt every moment painfully trickle by. Since the incident in Marina Bay, he’d received only one text message from Hoseok which had read, simply and to the point: Fuck you.

Yoongi supposed that was to be expected. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the way that so much as a glance in Namjoon’s direction would make him feel. They’d planned this so meticulously. The kiss was to be all for show, the shower water left running as a decoy to lure Hoseok into the bedroom. But then the time had come to actually execute the plan they’d worked so hard at putting into place.

“Are you ready?” Namjoon had asked.

Swallowing down his trepidation, Yoongi had nodded eagerly. “Go on then, Joon, show me what those lips can do,” he’d teased, puckering up in an absurd pout.

But instead of throwing the joke back at Yoongi, Namjoon had gazed at him with soft eyes and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Slowly, oh so slowly, he had leaned in until their lips barely brushed. The electricity that shot through Yoongi almost had him jumping off the bed. In hindsight, it must have been that moment when he lost all semblance of what was appropriate and sane, grabbing the back of Namjoon’s neck and kissing him with an intensity that burned. If Namjoon had pulled away in that moment, Yoongi would have been embarrassed – and yet still found a way to play it off.

Except Namjoon didn’t pull away. His breath hitched and he kissed Yoongi back with matching passion. Before Yoongi really knew what was happening, Namjoon had pulled off his shirt and encouraged Yoongi to do the same. Wow, Namjoon is really committed to this bit, Yoongi had thought to himself, ignoring the fact that what his body was doing was exactly what it wanted to do – and in fact, had wanted to do for some time, if he was honest. Realising that Namjoon was all in, Yoongi decided to let himself enjoy it too. Well, Namjoon was hot. Not to mention the fact that Yoongi hadn’t been kissed in quite a while…

It was only when Namjoon’s moan reached his ears that Yoongi realised he’d allowed himself to fall in far too deep. Since that night, Namjoon had been nonchalant, acting like nothing had happened. Which is exactly what Yoongi had expected. Kim Namjoon and his flawless public persona. Never a stray facial expression, never so much as a hair out of place.

For Yoongi, though, it hadn’t been quite so easy.

Namjoon forced his eyes not to flicker toward Yoongi for approximately the hundredth time in the last two minutes. They hadn’t talked since Marina Bay. Which was hardly surprising, given the way Yoongi had rushed out of the room leaving Namjoon confused and frankly a little bit heartbroken. It was only after Yoongi had run away that Namjoon had been brave enough to face facts.

Namjoon was forced to admit to himself that while spending so much time with Yoongi under the guise of their plan, he had slowly been falling for him. All it had taken was one kiss to unravel him entirely. And one moment for Yoongi to run away, Namjoon thought darkly. This was why he didn’t ‘do’ feelings… Well, at least now he knew that Yoongi didn’t feel the same way. Namjoon supposed, given the evidence before him, that it was time to put aside his inconvenient feelings and do his best to move on.

*****

With a heavy sigh, Taehyung looked at the clock on his phone for the third time in as many minutes. It was becoming increasingly unlikely that he’d see Jimin before sprint qualifying, which had his skin prickling with annoyance. Despite the fact that they were in a relationship, Jimin had been first and foremost Taehyung’s performance coach – and as he’d pointed out himself on multiple occasions, he was here to work for Taehyung. Just because Jimin was his boyfriend, that didn’t mean he could skip out on his job responsibilities. As Taehyung’s anger was about to spill over in a rather messy fashion, the door to his driver room flung open and there, rumpled, flushed and rosy-cheeked, stood Jimin. In a split second, Taehyung had forgotten all about his annoyance and sprinted over to his boyfriend, pulling him into a warm, needy hug.

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you before I had to get back in the car,” he murmured sadly, nuzzling softly into Jimin’s shoulder.

Jimin stiffened slightly in his embrace. “I’m so sorry, Tae. Hobi-hyung is really going through a bad patch in his love life,” he admitted. And that’s made me think twice about my own, were the words he left unsaid. “Come on, let’s do a guided meditation to get you ready, hmm?”

As Taehyung sat on the sofa and allowed Jimin’s mellifluous voice to take him away, he was able to forget the uncertain look on his boyfriend’s face from a moment ago. He could, and undoubtedly would, worry about that later. Right now, he had a job to do.

*****

“Pole position for the sprint, Gukkie! Great job,” Yeonjun let him know as soon as the final lap times had come in.

“Cool. How about Seokjin and Taehyung?” was Jeongguk’s immediate question.

“Seokjin third, Taehyung second,” Yeonjun reeled off. “Taehyung was extremely close, only three thousandths of a second slower. You’ll have to watch out for him in Grand Prix qualifying.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” Jeongguk muttered.

“That’s a job well done, Tae,” Hyungsik congratulated Taehyung. “So close to pole. Jeon only beat you by three thousandths.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to go faster next time,” Taehyung drawled. “How’d Vern do?”

“A solid fourth,” Hyungsik informed him.

“Good for him! Love that home crowd advantage.”

Once he was back in the garage, exhaustion weighed on Taehyung like a cloak made of iron. All Taehyung wanted was to go back to his hotel and cuddle with his boyfriend. But when he asked Jimin what time he’d be coming to his room, Jimin’s eyes shifted from side to side.

“Uh… I kind of promised Hobi-hyung I’d hang out with him, tonight,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Oh,” Taehyung uttered, trying not to betray his disappointment. “OK then. That’s fine. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me before you go to sleep, OK? Just so I know you’re safe.”

“Of course,” Jimin murmured, leaning in to peck Taehyung quickly on the lips.

Taehyung knew that it was normal for people in relationships to spend time apart, especially when they had friends who were in need of support. It wasn’t like he and Jimin didn’t see enough of each other, what with working together and spending most of their free time in each other’s company. So why did this particular situation make Taehyung feel so goddamned uneasy? Shaking his head as if to clear it, he resolved to put those feelings behind him. At least for the time being.

*****

Late that night, Jimin was crawling into bed after several hours of being Hoseok’s human sounding board. Letting our an exhausted sigh, he pondered the fact that If it hadn’t been a good time to tell Hoseok about his and Taehyung’s relationship before, it was even worse now… Hoseok’s disillusion when it came to love was extremely oppressive. Admittedly, Jimin had thought that in some ways, Hoseok got what he deserved by playing with fire in the way that he did. But of course he wasn’t going to tell that to one of his oldest friends in the midst of a crisis. Maybe once some time had passed, Jimin would be more brutally honest.

Right now, though, all he wanted to do was sleep and forget. As he was drifting off, the thought entered his mind that there was something he’d been supposed to do, but he was too sleepy to remember what. No matter. He could do it in the morning.

At 2am, Taehyung had enough of pacing around his suite. Jimin wasn’t answering his texts or calls, and Taehyung was becoming frantic. He hated when lovers became too possessive, and he despised the idea that he may be falling into that trap himself – and yet, Taehyung desperately needed to know if Jimin was OK or he wouldn’t sleep a wink.

“Fuck it, I’m gonna see if he’s in his room,” he muttered, throwing on a hoodie over his bare chest and pyjama pants and striding out of his room toward the elevator. Jimin’s room was quite a few floors down. Tapping his foot as he waited for the lift to come, Taehyung let out a frustrated noise as it took its sweet time. Tired of waiting, he decided to jog down the stairs. By the time he arrived at Jimin’s door, Taehyung was sweaty and flushed from his exertions. Without pausing to catch his breath, he began to knock on the door. “Jimin? Are you in there?” he called softly.

No answer.

Taehyung knocked on the door a little harder. “Jimin?” Cold fear settled in his stomach it struck him that Jimin may not be in the room. “JIMIN!” he cried out, bashing the door vigorously. Taehyung felt tears prickle in his eyes and threaten to fall. Where was he? Taehyung didn’t care that he had a race tomorrow. If Jimin needed him, he’d go out searching all night long…

The door opened, shaking Taehyung out of his panic. “Tae?” Jimin murmured incredulously, his hair messy and eyes puffy from sleep. “What on earth-“

“Oh thank God,” Taehyung sighed, pulling Jimin into an intense hug.

“Wha-“

“You didn’t text me and you weren’t answering my calls so I got worried, Jimin! I thought maybe you were wandering the streets of Austin alone, lost, or potentially in some sort of danger…”

“Tae, come inside. We’re not doing this in the hallway,” Jimin said firmly, his mouth set in a line. Closing the door behind him, Jimin gestured down to his body. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” he grumbled in exasperation. “Except that I was asleep, and now I’m not- Oof,” Jimin grunted as Taehyung launched himself into his arms again. As Taehyung nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, Jimin’s frustration dissipated somewhat, replaced by warmth at being in his beloved’s arms. However unexpectedly. “Tae, you were really that worried?” he whispered.

Taehyung’s arms tightened even further. “I was so worried,” he admitted. “I’m sorry if this comes across as me being possessive, I don’t mean to be… It’s only that you promised you’d text me before you went to sleep and when you didn’t…” Taehyung’s heavy exhale expressed his pain and frustration.

Oh shit, Jimin realised abruptly. That was the thing he was supposed to do before bed! His stomach laden heavily with guilt, he hugged Taehyung back even tighter. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmured. “Have you been waiting up for me all this time?”

“Yeah. There was no way I could sleep without knowing that you were safe,” Taehyung admitted quietly.

Pulling away, Jimin cupped his face in both hands. “But you have a sprint race tomorrow, Tae! Not to mention Grand Prix qualifying,” he fretted. “You need some sleep.”

“Can I sleep here? With you?” Taehyung asked, his voice uncharacteristically small.

“It’s not quite the luxury you’re accustomed to-“

“I don’t care. I just wanna snuggle up next to you in bed. The surroundings don’t matter,” Taehyung said firmly.

The hard kernel of uncertainty that had made its presence known in Jimin’s gut softened and melted away with Taehyung’s unguarded words. Taking his hand, Jimin led Taehyung over to his bed, helping him remove his outer layers of clothing. Climbing under the covers, he patted the space beside himself and opened his arms. Taehyung slid gratefully into his embrace, his lips instinctively finding the curve of Jimin’s jaw and fluttering kisses there.

“Sleep now, baby. Get some rest,” Jimin soothed, gently scratching Taehyung’s scalp.

“Love you, Jiminie,” Taehyung breathed, his eyes already closing.

“Love you, Taehyungie,” came the instantaneous reply.

*****

No matter how many times he breathed it in, the tang of high-octane fuel in Jeongguk’s nostrils never got old. Knowing that he was here to race, to fight for the championship in his rookie year, no less, alongside such superstars as Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung… Sometimes Jeongguk really felt the need to pinch himself. Even more so now that The King was no longer a mythical figure to Jeongguk, but someone he knew intimately. Kim Seokjin had said he loved him. What’s more, he’d backed that up by choosing to sleep beside Jeongguk every night during race weekends. Sharing his space, his joys, his fears. His kisses. His…

“Guk, time to strap in,” Yeonjun startled him out of his daydream. “How are you feeling?”

Other than the fact that I’m desperately horny, Jeongguk thought and firmly dismissed. “I’m feeling fine, Jjunie,” he affirmed. “Can’t wait to get out there.”

Catching Seokjin’s eye across the garage, the pair shared a secret look that both of them knew the meaning of all too well. But such things would have to wait for later. Much later, given they had both a sprint race and Grand Prix qualifying to get through before they could give in to their urges the way they both wanted to.

“Later,” Seokjin mouthed, surreptitiously winking at Jeongguk.

Later, indeed.

“Here you go,” Jimin said softly, placing a tiny espresso cup in Taehyung’s hand. “Gulp it down, that’s right. I know you don’t like the taste, but it’ll help you feel so much better,” he soothed, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of Taehyung’s unoccupied hand.

“Blergh,” Taehyung uttered, grimacing as he swallowed the dark, bitter liquid in one mouthful.

Jimin couldn’t help but laugh, his tinkling giggle ringing out in the garage. “Trust me, though, you’ll feel better once it kicks in,” he added. “Now, how are you doing mentally?”

Taehyung sighed. “All right, I guess. I just kind of want to get through today,” he admitted.

“There’ll be lots of cuddles waiting for you tonight. Maybe more, if you’re good,” Jimin whispered in his ear, smirking as a blush spread from Taehyung’s neck to his ears.

“I’m gonna be so good,” Taehyung whispered back, his hand just ghosting over the outline of Jimin’s ass.

Slowly, steadily, all twenty cars formed up on the grid with Jeongguk and Taehyung at the front of the field. The loud beeps of each red light penetrated the air above the low rumble of turbocharged engines.

This hold seems unusually long, Jeongguk thought. The next moment, the lights flashed yellow. Start aborted. The cars were sent around for another formation lap. “What happened, Jjunie?” he asked his engineer.

“Staller near the back,” Yeonjun replied. “Jake Sim. But he’s got going again, so the start will proceed as normal after this extra formation lap. Obviously, the race will decrease to eighteen laps.”

“Rookies, eh?” Jeongguk replied, tongue firmly in cheek.

The second start was textbook. The cars all made it away from the line and through the first corner. Jeongguk had to fight off a strong challenge from Taehyung, but ultimately, the Stallion didn’t quite have the pace to push him aside. And thus it continued, with Taehyung threatening to show Jeongguk a front wheel but never quite managing to get ahead. As they crossed the line, eighteen laps later, the top four positions remained as they had been in qualifying. Nobody had been able – or willing – to make a move, and with Grand Prix qualifying in a few short hours’ time, there was no point in risking a crash. Long gone were the days of ‘spare’ cars. If you broke it and they couldn’t fix it in time, well… You either started from the pit lane or your car fell apart halfway through the race. When one was particularly unlucky, sometimes both.

When Hyungsik came over the radio to congratulate him on a solid second place, Taehyung’s immediate response was to yawn.

“Oh come on, Tae, surely it wasn’t that boring?” Hyungsik teased.

“I’ve seen more action watching paint dry,” Taehyung drawled. “I can’t wait to be done with the medal ceremony so I can lie down and have a nap.”

Hyungsik failed to suppress his laughter. “That’s another useful seven points in the bag for your title challenge, don’t forget.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taehyung replied, trailing off into yet another yawn.

“That’s a solid P3, Jin.” Yoongi’s voice drew Seokjin out of his stupor. Not, perhaps, the most interesting of races. Hopefully the Grand Prix would be a little more exciting.

“Did Guk – I mean, Jeongguk – win?” he blurted out. “I kind of lost sight of him and Kim Taehyung there.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Yeah, Jeongguk won. Managed to keep that prancing horse behind him.”

Seokjin was a little surprised by the strength of the pride that swelled in his chest. With a jolt, he realised that it wasn’t just about himself, anymore. Seokjin realised that he cared just as much about Jeongguk’s results as he did about his own – even more, perhaps. Fear and excitement warred in the pit of his stomach as that realisation came to rest.

Are you a racing driver or are you a pussy? his father’s voice cut through his thoughts. Even though Seokjin had cut his father out of his life, the lifelong cycle of abuse still gripped him, the image of his father sitting uncomfortably on his shoulder. That unwelcome voice would take a long time to silence.

“YESSSSS! That’s a sprint win for Jeon Jeongguk!” Yeonjun cried happily.

Jeongguk whooped and hollered and pumped his fist as he came in to park his car. Hugs upon hugs from his team, a quick phone call to his mother to celebrate the win with her as he always did, and then it was time for the cool-down room before the shortened podium ceremony. Taehyung gave him a fist-bump. Seokjin patted him on the back (and, checking the TV cameras weren’t pointed in their direction, a quick one on the ass for good measure).

Medals received, the ceremony was over quickly and the drivers scattered to begin preparations for Grand Prix qualifying. Reporters dogged their every move, as ever. Taehyung fobbed them off with a few acerbic comments that would no doubt find their place in the tabloid press. Jeongguk, with his usual politeness, quickly answered a couple of questions then excused himself. Seokjin, surprisingly, wasn’t quite so deft.

“Seokjin, you seemed quite happy to congratulate your teammate today. How would you say your opinion of him has changed over the course of this season?” a reporter asked, piquing Seokjin’s interest. Well, what harm would there be in answering a question like that? he thought to himself.

Smiling warmly at the reporter, he said, “It’s certainly been an interesting year. If you’d asked me at the start of the season what I thought of Jeon Jeongguk, I’d have told you that he was not fit to lick my boots as a racing driver,” Seokjin said wryly. “Of course my opinion has changed now that I know what he’s about. Jeongguk is a very fine racer who has his best years in the sport yet to come. I look forward to seeing how he develops. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he finished, ducking away.

*****

“Taehyung?” Jimin called softly, knocking on the door of his boyfriend’s driver room.

“Huh?” a drowsy voice uttered from within.

“It’s me, can I come in?”

“Always,” came the enthusiastic reply. Jimin felt his cheeks turn crimson. When would he stop blushing every time Taehyung so much as talked to him? Surely they’d been together for enough time for him to get past that stage… Willing his blushes to calm down, Jimin pushed open the door and entered the room.

Sprawled lazily on the sofa, Taehyung lay in only his fireproof boxers. Acres of honey-coloured skin filled Jimin’s vision. Taehyung looked so warm, so soft, and Jimin was near-desperate to touch. Pulling himself together, he remembered what he’d come here for. “I brought you something,” he murmured, holding out the whipped cream and caramel topped iced monstrosity he’d acquired. “To perk you up before qualifying. Might suit your tastebuds better than the espresso did,” he added wryly.

His eyes lighting up in a beautifully childlike manner, Taehyung’s wide, rectangular grin made a spectacular appearance. “Oh, Jiminie! Thank you!” he said excitedly, jumping up to grab the drink and resting it on the table before sweeping Jimin into his arms.

So much bare skin, Jimin thought, barely managing to restrain himself from blatantly groping his boyfriend. Damn, he was gorgeous… was there a more beautiful human being on the planet than Kim Taehyung? Not in Jimin’s eyes, at least. There was really nothing else Jimin could do in that moment but give in to his desires. Gazing deep into Taehyung’s eyes, he pulled back just enough to cup his cheeks, the air cracking and pulsing between them as he leaned in until their lips met softly.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung mumbled against his lips, crashing their mouths together in a manner that was almost brutal.

Jimin let out a surprised squeal as Taehyung bit down on his bottom lip, his hands scrambling for purchase on his boyfriend’s smooth bare back.

“Sorry,” Taehyung murmured. “I guess I let my intrusive thoughts win. I just really wanted to bite your lips and see what that felt like. I’ve wanted to do that forever,” he admitted shyly, flicking his eyes back up to his boyfriend’s.

Jimin was about to reassure Taehyung when his attention was drawn to the fact that his trousers felt somewhat tight. Christ, I’m hard just from that, Jimin realised to his deep embarrassment. Surreptitiously adjusting himself, Jimin cleared his throat. “Um. That’s… fine, Tae. Yeah.”

Taehyung’s eyes drifted down, and a smirk appeared on his face. “What’s this, then?” he teased, gently cupping the front of Jimin’s bright red team-issue trousers.

Holding back a whine, Jimin attempted to fob him off. “It’s nothing. I mean, I’ll take care of it-“

“What if I took care of it for you?” Taehyung cut in.

Jimin’s mind went blank. Static fuzzed in his ears as he tried to make sense of what Taehyung was saying. “Uh…”

Steering Jimin over to the sofa, Taehyung unzipped his boyfriend’s too-tight trousers, letting out a gasp when his engorged cock sprang out. “You really have a large problem there, hmm?” he asked in an undertone. Pushing Jimin’s trousers to his knees, Taehyung sat him down, falling to his knees on the floor in front of him. With a restless groan, Taehyung pressed his face against Jimin’s stomach, breathing him in.

“Tae, I’ve been running around all day and I’m all sweaty…”

“Mmm,” Taehyung hummed, licking a trail over Jimin’s lower abomen. “Salty.”

Well, OK then, Jimin thought as Taehyung’s tongue wetted a path over the front of his underwear. If he’s not bothered, then I won’t be. He didn’t even have a moment for that thought to sink in before Taehyung had ripped the cotton of his boxer briefs in half and swallowed Jimin’s length down in one gulp. Now, Jimin wasn’t exactly a record-breaker in that sense. Certainly not as big as Taehyung. And yet, he wasn’t small, either, and the fact that Taehyung’s mouth could engulf him so easily was something Jimin found unbearably arousing. Never mind the fact that Taehyung had just ruined a perfectly good pair of underwear with his he-man act… Unsurprisingly, Jimin cared little for a piece of fabric at that moment in time. With his fingers tapping a nonsensical pattern on the sofa cushions, his head fell back and he simply let Taehyung pleasure him.

If Taehyung had his way, he’d have Jimin’s cock in his mouth all the time. It was heavenly, the way its solid girth stretched his lips and made his jaw ache. And the sheer smell and taste of him… Taehyung was utterly intoxicated by Jimin’s particular musk. He simply couldn’t resist shoving his nose into the neatly trimmed dark hair at the base of Jimin’s cock and inhaling deeply. His thoughts flickered back to the time before he and Jimin had consummated their relationship and his thought that perhaps he’d wanted Jimin so much purely because he was holding out on him. That idea was almost laughable, now that Taehyung knew that the closer they became, the more his desire for Jimin grew. It seemed to be a never-ending thing, his need for the beautiful man spread out right there on the sofa of his driver room. He’d never felt such desperation, such a raw need to be near another person. And frankly, Taehyung loved it.

“Taehyung,” Jimin whined breathily. His hips involuntarily bucked, causing Taehyung to choke slightly. “Oh my god, I’m sorry!”

Taehyung shook his head, gently patting Jimin’s thigh to reassure him that he was fine. Reaching for Jimin’s hands, he guided them to his hair, moaning a little around his cock when Jimin’s small fingers found purchase in the luscious dark strands. Jimin’s many and varied sounds rose in volume and pitch until Taehyung was genuinely worried they’d be heard from outside, even with the noise and bustle inherent in their workplace. With a flicker of amusement, Taehyung took one of his hands away from Jimin’s thighs and placed it over his mouth. The look of wide-eyed shock on Jimin’s face almost had Taehyung bursting into laughter. But the way his boyfriend’s eyes darkened a split second later and the tangy taste of precum flooding his tongue let Taehyung know that for Jimin, it was no laughing matter.

Jimin was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he’d only come in to bring Taehyung a coffee and now he was getting his soul sucked out through his dick. Sharp bursts of pleasure racked through him, an ever-growing wave of sensation rumbling underneath it all. Ordinarily, he was proud of his stamina, but since he and Taehyung had taken things to the next level physically, he felt like a teenager just discovering the way things worked. There was little control, little subtlety. Only pure, animalistic need. The moment Taehyung’s lips closed around his cock, Jimin knew he wasn’t going to last more than a few minutes. Which was probably a good thing, because it wasn’t exactly the ideal setting for Taehyung to tease him for hours… now that was something he’d like to try, being edged until he cried… “Oh God,” Jimin wailed as Taehyung’s tongue wriggled against the sensitive spot under the head of his cock. Thankfully his cries were muffled by Taehyung’s large hand against his mouth. Risking a glance downwards, knowing that could very well spell the end of his composure, Jimin noted the gleeful look in Taehyung’s eyes. He looks like he’s really enjoying himself, Jimin realised. Yet again, he realised that the sheer reverence with which Taehyung worshipped his body was unlike anything he’d experienced until now. That was the moment it all became too much for Jimin. The heat and suction of Taehyung’s mouth, the glorious twirling of his tongue, but most of all, the look of bliss in his boyfriend’s eyes was enough to send Jimin flying over the edge. His body practically convulsed with the force of his orgasm, thighs gripping Taehyung’s head like a vice as he rode out the thick, sweet, pulsating pleasure.

Taehyung moaned as the evidence of Jimin’s peak hit his tastebuds, hot and salty and utterly satisfying. Taking the intensity down a notch, Taehyung gently worked his tongue over Jimin’s shaft until he’d cleaned up all the evidence of his orgasm and his boyfriend was whimpering from oversensitivity. Only when he was sure he’d cleaned up every last drop did Taehyung allow Jimin’s now flaccid cock to fall from his mouth and his hand to move away from his lips. Resting his head softly on Jimin’s thigh, Taehyung stared up at him with unadulterated devotion. “Thank you for letting me do that,” he whispered, his voice gravelly and raw.

Jimin laughed, a bright, sparkling thing that had flowers blooming in Taehyung’s heart. “I should be thanking you,” he quipped. “Can I do anything for you?” he asked, noting the bulge in Taehyung’s underwear that was impossible to miss.

“Nah,” Taehyung dismissed him. “It helps if I’m a bit on edge during qualifying,” he added with a cheeky grin. “Which reminds me, I’d better have that coffee you brought.”

Jimin glanced over at the rather sorry looking drink, the ice melted and the whipped cream sagging, and he couldn’t hold back his laughter. “I only wanted to bring you a pick-me-up,” he insisted, wiping tears away from his eyes.

“You got a whole lot more than you bargained for there,” Taehyung smirked. His face suddenly turned serious. “Actually, there is something you can do for me…”

“Anything,” Jimin replied immediately.

“Fuck me later. I’ve had that dick in my mouth enough times to know how good it would feel in my ass,” Taehyung drawled boldly. No trace of shyness marked his dark eyes, his mouth twisted in an annoyingly attractive smirk.

Now this was a new dynamic in their relationship. So far, Jimin had always bottomed. Not that he minded the idea of topping. But he had foolishly assumed that as a bisexual man, Taehyung would prefer to give rather than take… Yet another surprising facet to the enigma that was Kim Taehyung. “Your wish is my command, baby,” Jimin grinned, butterflies exploding in his stomach at the sheer delight on Taehyung’s face. “I do have one problem, though,” he added regretfully.

“What’s that?”

“You wrecked my underwear and now I don’t have any to wear under these tight red trousers,” Jimin pouted. “Unless you want the entire paddock staring at what’s under them…”

Taehyung got up far quicker than his languid movements suggested he was capable of, rummaging through the bottom of his driver wardrobe. “Aha!” he crowed, holding aloft a spare pair of fireproof underwear. “They’re made of wool, so they might take a while to get used to. But they’ll keep you modest,” he winked, throwing the underwear at Jimin and managing to make them land on his head.

There was something unbearably sexy about wearing Taehyung’s underwear, Jimin thought. Even if it was a tad uncomfortable when he first put it on. Soon enough, he’d had a quick wash at the sink and was dressed and ready to head back to his usual post for qualifying. Likewise, Taehyung was now clad in his race suit, ready to work again. When they emerged from the driver room, no-one was any the wiser about what had happened behind that closed door.

*****

There was to be no repeat of the Singapore shenanigans here, with all three championship protagonists easily progressing into the third portion of qualifying. Surprisingly, however, it was the Stallion of Vernon Chwe who topped the timesheets in the first two segments, with Kim Taehyung in a close second place. Seokjin knew well what a home crowd advantage could do for a driver and he found himself hoping that Vernon could pull of an unexpected pole position. Unless he himself could snatch it, of course. His first hot lap in Q3 was good enough to top the times briefly, quickly being bettered first by Kim Taehyung and then by Vernon Chwe. Perhaps Mr. Chwe is really going to do it this time, Seokjin pondered.

Jeongguk seethed beneath his helmet as his first effort only had him sitting in fourth place. Chwe was on provisional pole! What a ridiculous situation… Then Seokjin’s words from a few races ago popped into his head. Jeongguk couldn’t rely on being better than someone all the time. Even when he knew he was a better driver on the whole. Perhaps he truly needed to accept that Chwe had his days, and this was one of them. Surprisingly sanguine, Jeongguk made his way back to the garage for a tyre change before his second hot lap.

“Jeez, that lap from Vern was blistering,” Taehyung grumbled to Hyungsik. “I’m not sure even I can beat that.”

Hyungsik snorted. “Even you have your limits, Tae. But I can tell you that you’re losing time to Vernon in turns thirteen through sixteen by being unusually timid. Nobody has car control like you, so why not rely on your skills a little more through that twisty section?”

As that particular part of the track flashed through Taehyung’s mind, what Hyungsik said clicked firmly into place. “All right, Hyungsikkie. I’ll keep my foot in a bit more this time around.”

The top ten drivers were playing chicken with each other to see who dared risk being the last one over the line to start their final qualifying lap. A risky strategy, as they all knew – but a risk that could definitely pay dividends. The first of the main protagonists to start his lap was Jeongguk. The Silver Bullet flowed like water around the corners, smooth and effortless. A near-flawless lap. Jeongguk crossed the line with a brand new lap record.

“Oh my God, Guk! Where on earth did that come from?” Yeonjun shrieked in his earpiece. “A new lap record, wow.”

“Let’s see how long it holds,” Jeongguk replied, a steely tone to his voice.

Seokjin was next over the line, matching Jeongguk’s time down to the fourth decimal point. As Jeongguk had found out to his detriment earlier in the year, that meant that Seokjin’s lap placed him in second.

“Great job, Jin. Shame you couldn’t do it first,” Yoongi deadpanned. “But that’s P2.”

See, I’m still fast, Seokjin thought smugly to himself.

The first of the Stallions, driven by Vernon Chwe, fired around the final corner to the roars of the crowd. They all knew they were witnessing something quite spectacular as Vernon set a third purple sector and snatched pole position and the lap record away from Jeongguk. The whoops, cheers and applause were utterly deafening as the crowd lauded their home hero.

Taehyung was down on his teammate by two tenths in the first sector. He’d been fighting the car, struggling to find the flow he needed. And yet, when he came to turn thirteen, his brain and body clicked into a new gear. With audacity he hadn’t quite known he possessed, Taehyung absolutely hauled his Stallion around the next four corners, braking much later than anyone else had dared and making up the time he’d lost. As he rounded the final corner, Taehyung sent up a prayer to a God he wasn’t sure he believed in to give him a burst of extra speed. Crossing the line, he fervently hoped it would be enough.

The sound of his harsh breathing inside his helmet was almost deafening until Hyungsik’s voice distracted him.

“Taehyung?”

“Mm?”

“How do you think that went?”

Taehyung pondered. “Uh, it was all right. I tried to do what you said in the twisty section but I’m not sure how the rest of the lap was in comparison to Vern… Come on, Hyungsikkie, lay it on me.”

“Are you sure you want to know? Because-“

“Just tell me!” Taehyung snapped.

After a pause, Hyungsik spoke. “Kim Taehyung. You have just broken – no, obliterated – the lap record at COTA by almost half a second. That’s pole position. Repeat, pole position. You should be immensely proud of yourself.”

The roar Taehyung let out could possibly have been audible from space. He’d done it! He’d taken pole position in one of the most difficult qualifying sessions of his life… And all he wanted to do was hug Jimin.

“Hyungsikkie, is Jimin there?”

“Of course. He’s sitting in his usual seat.”

“Good. Can you make sure he’s down at parc ferme when I get there?”

Hyungsik paused. “Sure thing, Tae,” he confirmed, a slightly quizzical note in his voice.

The moment Taehyung parked his car, he practically burst out of it and straight into Jimin’s waiting arms.

“You did so well, baby!” Jimin cried, jumping up and down while hugging a very sweaty Taehyung.

“You’ll have to let me suck your cock before qualifying more often, I think,” Taehyung whispered, grinning delightedly at the way Jimin’s face darkened to match his team uniform.

“Hmm. We’ll see,” Jimin replied gruffly.

As a photographer snapped a picture of the pair of them, Taehyung leaned in and smacked a kiss on Jimin’s cheek. “That’ll give them something to talk about,” he murmured.

*****

The moment the elevator door closed, Jeongguk had Seokjin pinned against the back wall, kissing his neck with a fevered intensity.

“Guk, you really couldn’t wait until we’re in my suite?” Seokjin laughed, giving his lover’s ass a fond squeeze.

“Need you, Jin. Need you now,” Jeongguk moaned, rutting his already hard cock against Seokjin’s thigh.

“Oh… kay,” Seokjin breathed, taking a moment to straighten his clothes as the elevator reached his floor. “We’re here now, so you can have your way with me.”

“I’m going to fucking ruin you,” Jeongguk uttered lowly, sending a sequence of shivers down Seokjin’s spine.

Seokjin couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Guk, in case you’ve forgotten, we have a race tomorrow. I can’t drive if I’m in pieces- Oh.”

Jeongguk had retrieved Seokjin’s key card from the front pocket of his trousers and granted them entry to the suite. Without even waiting for the door to fully close, he’d begun to strip down, urging Seokjin to do the same. “Why are you stalling, Jin? I need to be inside you, like, three hours ago.”

A rush of desire went right to Seokjin’s head. Wow, it was intoxicating to be wanted like this. With a moan of utter surrender, Seokjin submitted to Jeongguk’s heady desires. They didn’t even make it to the bedroom, this time – Jeongguk soon had Seokjin bent over the kitchen bench as he rammed into him fast and deep. Like this, with Jeongguk’s hands flat against his chest and stomach, Seokjin could feel every millimetre of him moving in and out, every thrust magnified, every touch sending him spiralling. He simply couldn’t hold himself back, coming fast and hard all over the marble surface.

“Wow, that was unexpected,” Jeongguk breathed, slowing his thrusts down just enough to give Seokjin a break.

“I can keep going. Please don’t stop,” Seokjin begged, welcoming the burn of overstimulation. “Come on, Guk, fuck me like you mean it,” he teased, threading his fingers back through Jeongguk’s hair. With a wild cry, Jeongguk gave him what he’d asked for. Soon, Seokjin’s flaccid cock had filled again, bouncing with each rock of his lover’s hips behind him.

“Close,” Jeongguk grunted, clutching Seokjin ever tighter around the midsection. “Oh shit, I can feel myself in your stomach…”

The very idea that Jeongguk was fucking him so deep sent a near-painful jolt of pleasure straight to Seokjin’s core. “Wanna come again… wanna come with you,” he gritted out. “Touch me, Guk,” he begged, moaning in sheer relief when Jeongguk’s hand began stroking up and down his cock.

“Jin, I’m gonna… oh fuck, oh fuck,” Jeongguk blabbered, his thrusts becoming erratic as he hurtled unstoppably toward climax.

Seokjin’s high-pitched shriek heralded his second orgasm, spilling thickly over Jeongguk’s hand and all over his own abdomen. His vision whited out and every sensation blurred – except that of Jeongguk’s cock splitting him open, hot cum flooding his insides as he unloaded inside him.

“Shit… I forgot the condom,” Jeongguk grumbled. They both knew they were clean and exclusive, that was a conversation that had happened a long time ago. It was the mess later that was the potential problem. No matter how hard they tried to make sure they’d got the last of it, there always seemed to be leftover dribbles. And getting cum stains out of fireproof underwear was never a fun thing to do…

Seokjin, spent and utterly in love, couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I told you this is the best fried chicken you’ll ever eat,” he told Jeongguk later as they licked residue from their fingers following a delicious meal they’d had delivered from Seokjin’s favourite restaurant in Austin.

“Hmm. I prefer Kyochon back in Seoul,” Jeongguk mused. “Not that this wasn’t delicious. I just like the Korean flavours better.”

“Maybe that’s why you like me so much,” Seokjin teased, leaning in for a greasy kiss.

“Mmm-mmm. Get yourself some Kim Seokjin for that authentic Korean taste,” Jeongguk quipped. “Hey, have you looked to see if there are any news articles about today?” he added, grabbing his phone and loading up the search function.

“Nah. I’m not interested in what those vultures have to say, but you go ahead. Knock yourself out,” Seokjin said dismissively. He watched as Jeongguk’s face turned from relaxed to confused, to crestfallen, and finally to sheer fury. Wondering what could possibly have affected Jeongguk so powerfully, Seokjin was about to ask when Jeongguk abruptly stood up from the sofa, glaring at him.

“How could you, Jin? How could you say such a thing about me, after everything we’ve been through?”

Seokjin’s mind went blank. He had only said positive things about Jeongguk to the media that day, he was sure of it… “Guk-ah, slow down. What are you talking about?”

Jeongguk thrust his phone screen in Seokjin’s face.

“ ‘Not fit to lick my boots’ – Kim Seokjin gives his honest assessment of his teammate” the headline screamed. Heart racing, Seokjin scanned the article to find he’d been wildly misquoted. “Guk, that’s not what I said-“

“You must have said that or they wouldn’t have quoted it,” Jeongguk replied bitterly.

“Look, I did use those words but if you’d just listen to the context-“

“I don’t give a fuck, Seokjin. You admit you said them, and that’s enough. I can’t believe your opinion of me is that low,” Jeongguk said flatly, picking up his few belongings and moving toward the door. “I’m gonna go. I don’t think I can be around you tonight,” he added, casting a last baleful look in Seokjin’s direction. “I’ll get myself to the track tomorrow. Guess I’ll see you around,” he finished, slamming the door behind him.

Seokjin sat very still. A small voice inside him insisted that he should follow after Jeongguk and try to make things right. Tell him that he had been misquoted, and the explanation would clear everything up. But another voice told him that Jeongguk wasn’t in a place where he could receive such information. Seokjin would be wasting his time. Paralysed with indecision, Seokjin ended up doing nothing at all.

*****

Elsewhere on the same floor of the hotel, Taehyung was slowly coming back to earth after being thoroughly railed by his tiny but suspiciously strong boyfriend. Jimin had thrown Taehyung around like a rag doll, manhandling him with such finesse he’d barely been able to think until his orgasm had burst over him in a shower of fireworks and his mind finally cleared. Boneless and floppy all over, Taehyung lay starfished across his bed with Jimin curled into his side. “Where does it go?” he drawled lazily, barely even managing to form the words.

“Where does what go?” Jimin queried.

Taehyung sighed, rubbing a palm up and down Jimin’s back. “Your strength, Jiminie. Where do you hide it all? Cause to look at you, I wouldn’t think…”

Jimin snort-laughed. “Tae. I’m literally your performance coach. You know how strong I am, you’ve seen me lift weights that even you can’t manage, you doofus.”

“Yeah, but in this setting it’s kind of been brought home to me, if you know what I mean.”

Pushing himself into a seated position, Jimin flexed his arms and back. Finely honed musculature rippled beneath his skin, bulging with subtle power. “See that? Four years at a sports university, and ten years of further training. You want this kind of strength you have to work for it,” he shrugged, allowing himself to slump back against Taehyung.

“You can use me for practice any time you like,” Taehyung murmured, his eyes falling closed.

Jimin watched him for a moment, marvelling at the beauty of him in this relaxed, languid state. As he gently stroked his fingers through Taehyung’s damp hair, Jimin was seized by a pang of possessiveness. He was aware that he hadn’t been exactly forthcoming about the state of their relationship within his own circle, even actively hiding it from Hoseok. And yet, anger surged in him at the thought of more headlines about their ‘friendship’. Jimin had hoped that Taehyung kissing him on the cheek for the cameras earlier would have clarified things somewhat. And yet, the picture ran with the caption: Kim Taehyung gives his pal a friendly kiss after taking a brilliant pole position at COTA. When Jimin had shown him the headline, practically vibrating with fury, Taehyung had laughed. He’d laughed.

“You and I know what’s going on, Jiminie. Isn’t that enough?” he’d asked, leaving a tender kiss on the shell of Jimin’s ear and it had been temporarily forgotten.

The problem was, for Jimin, it wasn’t enough. He wanted the world to know that Taehyung was his. “Tae,” he began, feeling slightly guilty as his boyfriend’s sleepy eyes flew open. “Can we talk about something?”

“Anything, my love,” Taehyung assured him, pushing himself up so that he could lean against the headboard.

Biting his lip nervously, Jimin paused a moment before beginning to speak. “A-are you ashamed of me?” he asked, hardly daring to look at Taehyung.

The shocked silence that greeted Jimin stunned him into looking at his boyfriend. Taehyung’s mouth had fallen open, his eyes wide with horror.

“What on earth would make you ask a question like that?” Taehyung uttered darkly. “I mean, really, Jimin, what on earth? Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Jimin squirmed. He wasn’t completely sure himself. But something didn’t sit quite right. Instead of thinking it through, he simply blurted out, “Is it because I’m not good enough for you? Do you think that’s why the press won’t see that we’re together? I mean, they were all over Domi, which makes sense, because she’s beautiful. Maybe I just don’t meet that standard…”

“Jimin,” Taehyung interrupted him seriously. “What the fuck are you talking about? For the record, I didn’t tell the press anything about Domi, not directly, at least. I behaved no differently than I have with you. The fact that they don’t see it is nothing to do with my behaviour. And frankly, I don’t want to have to engage with them to put things right,” he grumbled. “Let them think what they want.”

“What about what I want?” Jimin retorted. He was about to launch into a tirade when his phone started to ring. Meaning to silence it, he noticed that it was Hoseok calling. With a sigh, he got up from the bed and walked a few steps away to answer it.

“Hoseok-hyung?”

Instead of speech, Jimin was greeted with a pathetic wail. Hoseok was sobbing down the phone, almost unable to form any coherent words.

“Jimin- I- I… Saw them, having coffee together…”

“Did you say anything to them?” Jimin asked, his brow furrowing.

“Course not. I don’t think they even noticed me,” Hoseok admitted.

Rolling his eyes, Jimin patiently attempted to calm Hoseok down. Eventually, his breathing returned to normal and he was able to speak clearly again.

“Jiminie, will you come and spend tonight with me? I need you,” he begged.

Jimin’s eyes flew to Taehyung, who was trying not to look too interested in Jimin’s conversation. Regret filled his chest as he realised that he absolutely needed to be there for his old friend. “Sure, Hoseok-hyung. Give me half an hour to freshen up and I’ll be with you,” he agreed, ignoring Taehyung’s incredulous look. Ending the call, he attempted to walk into the bathroom without looking at Taehyung.

“Park Jimin!” Taehyung’s resonant voice stopped him in his tracks. “Don’t walk away from me right now.”

Jimin ignored him and turned the shower on. Closing his eyes, he allowed the spray to wet him all over. He opened his eyes to reach for the soap and found himself staring directly into Taehyung’s.

“I think it’s really rich that you complain that I’m not doing enough about making our relationship public when you won’t even tell one of your best friends we’re together,” Taehyung said darkly. “I wanted you to stay here with me tonight. But you didn’t even ask me what I want. Nor did you tell Hoseok that actually, you’re busy. With your boyfriend,” he added. “I wonder, Jimin, if it’s you who is ashamed of me?”  

Jimin choked a little on his saliva. “Tae, that’s not it at all-“

“You want to know something? The reason I dated Domi wasn’t because I was particularly fond of her. She was nice, yeah, and we had some fun together. But the real reason, the true driving force behind that relationship was because I couldn’t get my goddamn mind off you and it was driving me crazy. Domi was just a distraction from the real story. I’m sorry she got hurt in the process. That’s not fair. But maybe, at least now, you’ll know just how much I’ve been wanting you, and for how long,” he finished, voice dangerously low and eyes flashing with a mixture of vulnerability and anger. 

A sick weight throbbed in Jimin’s gut as Taehyung’s words sank in. He had been unaware that Domi was basically a placeholder for him. Even though Domi herself had been the one to tell Jimin that Taehyung loved him… The actual logistics of it hadn’t quite connected. Part of Jimin hadn’t wanted to accept that Kim Taehyung, his gorgeous, successful, hyper-talented boyfriend was really in love with him. Park Jimin, the performance coach. Someone who had always been in the background while others shone. Why was he so determined to doubt Taehyung’s feelings for him when the evidence showed that they were true, strong, and deep?

By the time Jimin had dried himself and re-dressed, Taehyung had gone, leaving only a note.

Jimin

I’ve gone for a walk to clear my head. Enjoy your night with Hoseok. I think it’s better we spend a little bit of time apart. Please make sure you text me before you go to sleep tonight, though.

I love you, and I want to fix this. But I need some time alone right now.

See you at the race tomorrow.

Love, Tae.

Jimin’s heart sank. And yet, he couldn’t deny that he deserved it.

*****

Yoongi eyed Namjoon warily as he sat down across from him in the café/bar attached to the hotel.

“Thank you for seeing me, Yoongi,” Namjoon said quietly. There was no trace of his usual confidence – Yoongi often thought it had bordered on arrogance. But right now, Namjoon was here as himself. Far from his usual role of the suave, self-possessed businessman.

Yoongi couldn’t help but sigh. “What is it you want, Namjoon?” he asked sharply. He hadn’t intended to be quite so prickly. However, he simply couldn’t help the fact that just being in Namjoon’s presence put him on edge.

“Why do I have to want anything?” Namjoon replied in exasperation, running a hand through his thick, short hair.

Oh no, Yoongi thought. His hair is sticking up. It’s cute, and it makes me want to reach over and smooth it back down.

“What! What is it, Yoongi?” Namjoon snapped. “Why are you looking at me like that? For Christ’s sake…” Namjoon rose to his feet and made as if to leave.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi placated him, “I’m sorry. Can we go back thirty seconds, please?”

Yoongi could see the tension draining from Namjoon’s body as he sat back down.

“OK,” he agreed. “You asked me what I want, and I asked you why I had to want anything,” he pointed out.

Sighing, Yoongi met Namjoon’s eyes. “It’s just that the way we left things-“

“And do you think I was happy about that, Yoongi?” Namjoon snapped. “Do you think I felt good about myself when you literally sprinted out of the room after we’d kissed?”

“But it wasn’t supposed to be like that, Namjoon-“

“But it was like that, Yoongi,” Namjoon’s stentorian voice cut in. “It was like that. At least, for me.”

The impact of Namjoon’s impassioned words was enough to steal Yoongi’s breath. A melee of feelings surged in him, pinning him back against the seat. “Joon-ah,” he uttered, failing to hide the tenderness in his voice.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes softened. “Yeah?”

“It was like that for me, too.”

Yoongi had never seen the man before him crumple. Until now. The set of Namjoon’s shoulders relaxed, his jaw unclenched and a needy sound escaped from his mouth. “Really? It was? It wasn’t just me projecting my feelings on to you?” Namjoon blurted out, suddenly looking very young. “I’m not good at matters of the heart,” he admitted.

“Joon-ah, who is good at them? Certainly not me,” Yoongi joked. Bravely, he reached over and placed his hand over Namjoon’s. Idly, he thought that they looked good together, Namjoon’s long, slender fingers interlinking with his slightly rougher, wider ones. Taking a deep breath, Yoongi ventured, “Maybe… but only if you want to… maybe we can try?”

Namjoon’s fingers tightened around his own. “Yoongi…” he uttered, voice creaking. “Being with you… it’s different from anything else I’ve experienced. I know that this all started because we wanted to get revenge on Hoseok, but honestly… the times we spent together were the brightest spots in my life over the last few months,” he admitted. “Finally, I felt like someone was on my side. Like we could fight against the world together.” Overwhelmed by the emotion coursing through him, Namjoon was forced to pause, closing his eyes briefly.

“I’ve always been on your side,” Yoongi murmured. “But especially since you’ve allowed me to see the real Namjoon, not just the suave team principal…” He trailed off.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon sighed, bringing their interlinked hands up to rest against his cheek. “I want to try.”

Joy filled Yoongi’s being, stealing his breath. “Let’s try, then. Go on a date with me? A real one?” he blurted out.

“Anywhere,” Namjoon replied warmly. “I’ll go anywhere with you, Yoongi.”

*****

Jimin rubbed at his eyes as the elevator ascended to his floor. Part of him was glad that he’d spent the evening with Hoseok, but the rest of him was exhausted both emotionally and physically. The way he’d left things with Taehyung left a sour taste on his tongue that no amount of fruity cocktails could remove. And Jimin had certainly tried… He would regret that tomorrow, he knew. A large glass of water before bed would help. He’d order room service pancakes with maple syrup and bacon in the morning. Ah, American food. Jimin vaguely wondered whether if he lived here, he’d find it rather more difficult to retain his petite figure than he did in Seoul. As the elevator doors opened, he remembered that Taehyung had asked him to text once he was back at the hotel. Once he was inside the room, Jimin stripped off his outer layers and slumped on the bed, staring at his phone. What to say? Should he be contrite, or casual? Shaking his head rapidly, he decided to play it cool.

Park Jimin (23.07):

I’m back. Going to sleep now.

See you tomorrow.

A tightness in his chest alerted Jimin to the fact that he was about to cry. Why now…? Shoving the emotions back down, he hauled himself off the bed and ventured to the bathroom to complete his nightly routine. Once that was complete, and the remains of the glass of water he’d gulped down were coldly making their way down his throat, Jimin allowed himself to collapse back on to his bed. Before he closed his eyes, he checked his phone to find a text from Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung (23.10):

Thank you for letting me know.

I can sleep now, knowing that you’re safe.

A heady mixture of love and regret swirled through Jimin as he read Taehyung’s simple yet heartfelt words. Part of him wanted to run to Taehyung, to tell him that he’d told Hoseok about them that very night. Despite Hoseok’s current disillusionment with the idea of love, he’d smiled warmly when Jimin had eventually spilled the beans.

“So you finally sealed the deal with that gorgeous hunk of racing driver, then,” he’d quipped.

Jimin blushed as a vivid flashback of several hours earlier, when he’d been holding Taehyung up against the bedroom wall and ramming into him fast and hard, flooded his mind.

“Uh. Yeah. You could say it’s been sealed,” he admitted sheepishly.

Hoseok’s whoops and catcalls had other patrons of the bar turning around to look at them.

Of course, he’d also told Hoseok about the fight they’d had just before Jimin had left. His friend was less amused by that.

“You mean you just walked out on him after that conversation, Jimin? What were you thinking?”

“Hyung, I wanted to be here for you-“

“Jimin-ah, get your priorities straight. Clearly I’m no expert when it comes to love, but even I know that you don’t walk out on your partner during a serious conversation,” Hoseok had said seriously. “Seems to me that you owe Taehyung a major apology.”

Hoseok’s words repeated over and over in Jimin’s mind until he finally drifted into a harsh, fitful sleep.

*****

Grand Prix Sundays always felt a little weird to Taehyung, especially those that followed a sprint Saturday. After all the action of the past few days, nothing much seemed to happen. Of course, it was all gearing up for the main event. But in most cases, the main event didn’t even start until after lunch. Sometimes, when they had night races, they had an entire day to fill in beforehand. For the teams this time was precious in terms of comparing telemetry from both drivers and crunching as much data as they could get their hands on. Taehyung and Vernon were of course needed for their feedback and ideas, but really, the majority of their energies were required for the race itself.

He and Jimin had smiled tentatively upon seeing each other in the garage. Jimin had helped Taehyung with his physical warm-up and done some mental work with him, too. All normal. And yet, there was a strange barrier between them that hadn’t been present for a long time. Skilled at separating his emotional world from his needs as a driver, Taehyung was able to put it all to one side and focus on the job he had to do. Starting from pole position, it would hopefully be relatively easy to bring home the win. Although his teammate and both Silver Bullets drivers would certainly try their best to take it away from him.

Jeongguk didn’t spare so much as a glance toward Seokjin before the race. Other team members shared concerned looks. But nobody dared to say anything in case it upset the clearly fragile equilibrium. Even the nicest racing drivers had a touch of the diva in them – and woe betide anyone who provoked that.

Hoseok was particularly aware of the tension as he took the pair through their physical warm-up. Far from the usual grins and jokey banter, the air between them was fraught. It was no stretch to suggest that all three of them were relieved when Hoseok called an end to the workout.

Starting alongside Jeongguk on the second row, Seokjin forcibly put their fight out of his mind as the five red lights went out. Directly behind Kim Taehyung, Seokjin swore vehemently when he saw what a rocket of a start the Stallions driver had managed to make. Vernon Chwe tried desperately to match him, but was ultimately unable to sneak ahead. Seokjin was so focused on the action ahead that he almost allowed Jeongguk to pass. Using the quick thinking that had taken him to three world championships, he parked his car on the apex so that Jeongguk would have to take avoiding action. Crisis averted, Seokjin settled in for a long race.

“How’s the gap, Hyungsikkie?” Taehyung asked midway through the first stint.

“Zero point eight seconds to Vernon,” Hyungsik informed him.

“Not enough,” Taehyung said flatly. “My tyres feel good. Do you think I can use a bit more pace?”

Hyungsik sighed. “We wouldn’t advise it, Tae. But Vernon is in your dirty air, don’t forget.”

Taehyung knew that was a definite disadvantage. Vernon’s car would be far less efficient and his tyres would wear faster than Taehyung’s, who had clear air in front of him. Grimacing, Taehyung resolved to accept the fact that his teammate was a bit too close for comfort right now.

Jeongguk had always been competitive, of that there was no doubt. And yet, he’d never felt quite as desperate to gain a position as he did that particular day. “I’ll show him who’s not fit to lick his boots,” Jeongguk muttered as he attempted yet another audacious move around the outside. Seokjin was way ahead of him, however, and placed his car in the perfect defensive position.

“Goddamn it, he’s good,” Jeongguk was forced to admit. Of course he is, he’s The King. Your hero, your idol, a voice in Jeongguk’s mind reminded him sharply. The fact that you two are having a lover’s quarrel doesn’t change anything about that.

Taehyung grumbled as Hyungsik called him in for a second pitstop. He’d managed to get out smoothly from the first and retain his lead, but this time it felt a little closer than he’d like. “Why now? I still have a good five laps left in these tyres,” he muttered.

“We think this is the best option, Tae,” Hyungsik said dispassionately. “Box, box.”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Taehyung sighed.

Stopping perfectly on his marks, Taehyung expected the pit stop to be as smooth and fast as Stallions stops were renowned to be. But soon he realised he’d been stationary for a longer time than usual. In a game where positions were decided by tenths of a second, every moment counted. When the lollipop finally went up and Taehyung swerved back into the pitlane, he demanded to know what had happened.

“Sticky rear left, Tae. We’re sorry,” Hyungsik apologised. “Fortunately we only lost one second.”

“And Vernon was zero point six behind me,” Taehyung replied flatly. “Great.”

His teammate still hadn’t pitted. Taehyung presumed he’d be in on the next lap. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to fire in a speedy out lap on still-cold tyres. “Fuck,” he swore as the car almost got away with him in the twisty segment between turns thirteen and sixteen. “Easy there,” he soothed himself as he regained control of the Stallion beneath him. Despite all his efforts, the sight he’d dreaded unfolded before him as he headed toward the section of the track where the cars exited the pit lane.

Vernon swept out into the lead of the race.

“Fucking asshole!” Taehyung yelled inside his helmet. Rage rose in a red mist inside him. He hit the throttle aggressively and almost copped a load of oversteer at the next corner.

Jimin’s voice gently sounded in his mind. “Sometimes things happen on track that you regret, but you can’t change. Better to focus on what’s within your control.”

Taehyung took a deep breath. Jimin was right, as usual. So, Vernon had managed to undercut him at the pit stop. There was nothing he could do about that. But what he could do was keep his head down and fire in some tasty laps to get on the back of his teammate. And then, he could pull off one of his trademark dive-bomb overtakes. There was no one later on the brakes than Kim Taehyung. He’d make sure the world knew it, today.

Jeongguk’s frustration was peaking as Seokjin yet again placed his car right in the way of his overtake. “Jjunie, is that legal?” Jeongguk asked his engineer after being thwarted for the umpteenth time.

“I’m afraid so, Guk. You know The King, he never falls foul of the rules,” Yeonjun replied.

“Damn it,” Jeongguk growled, redoubling his efforts to wrong-foot his teammate. His opportunity finally came in the third and final stint. Seokjin had chosen soft tyres whereas Jeongguk had played it safer and gone for mediums. For once, Jin made a mistake with his strategy, Jeongguk thought as he crept ever closer to the back of his teammate’s car. It wasn’t even an overtaking hotspot when Jeongguk slingshotted his car down the inside of the corner. Rather, it was all down to the fact that Seokjin’s graining tyres simply didn’t have the adhesion he needed to stay on the racing line. The satisfaction of putting The King in his place warred with the discomfort of demoting his lover off the podium. And yet, Jeongguk knew he’d manage to sit with that.

Two laps from the end of the Grand Prix, Taehyung’s patience had worn so thin it was practically transparent. Almost out of opportunities to take the win back from Vernon, he knew he’d have to pull off something ridiculous. Doubt had begun to creep into his mind, but he quickly banished it. Remember who you are, he reminded himself. You’re Kim Motherfucking Taehyung. Sharpening his focus, Taehyung studied Vernon even more intently, smiling to himself when he realised that his teammate was definitely coming off the throttle early on his way into Turn 12. He’d left himself with only one chance. But now, he knew exactly what to do. As Vernon crossed the line for the final lap, the crowd began to cheer, thinking they would at last have a home winner. As the two Stallions wound themselves sinuously around the lap, Taehyung held back just enough to get the merest hint of clean air. As he reached Turn 10, he began to wind it back up. By the time they were approaching Turn 12, Taehyung’s rear wing was wide open and he zoomed past Vernon so fast his teammate didn’t even have an opportunity to see him coming. The crowd’s dismay was drowned out by cheers at the sheer brilliance of the overtake. Even when it came at the expense of a local boy, Kim Taehyung was undeniably box-office. Crossing the finish line, Taehyung’s heart soared. The thrumming of his heart and the sparks of excitement flooding his body told him that this was one of his greatest victories – possibly because it was his own teammate he’d beaten to the win. And he’d done it fair and square, too. 

“You have won the United States Grand Prix!” Hyungsik confirmed, his jubilation soaring through the radio. “Wow, what an overtake.”

“Would have been nice if I hadn’t needed to do it,” Taehyung quipped. “But I did it!”

“You certainly did,” Hyungsik agreed, the noise of team celebrations loud in the background. “A Stallions 1-2 at COTA! What a day for us.”

“Who won in the battle of the Bullets?” Taehyung asked. He knew the championship fight was extremely tight, so their relative performances mattered.

“Jeon Jeongguk third, Kim Seokjin fourth,” Hyungsik confirmed.

Taehyung’s heart lifted a little. His quick mental arithmetic had himself and Seokjin on equal points. If only he’d managed to steal that fastest lap from Vernon…

“Don’t sweat it, Tae. There are still six Grand Prix weekends left in the season,” Hyungsik reassured him. “You’ve never been in a position like this. At least take a moment to be proud of yourself before you start dissecting.”

That sounds like something Jimin would say, Taehyung thought. Immediately, he was seized by the urge to hug his boyfriend. And yet, he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

Seokjin, watching from a safe distance, noted that Kim Taehyung was particularly subdued during the podium ceremony. Especially given the spectacular fashion in which he’d taken the win. Seokjin had already seen the move replayed at least a dozen times on the trackside screens and even he had to admit that it was highly impressive. Idly, he wondered what else was going on in Taehyung’s life that may have taken the lustre away from today’s triumph. Once the anthems had been played and the champagne showered over them, the top three were swept off to the media pen for interviews.

Seokjin felt oddly hollow as he observed Jeongguk going about his media duties. He had rather less to do himself, given he’d finished off the podium. Still, fourth place was decent, still keeping him level on points with Kim Taehyung. A tiny tendril of fear began to creep into his mind as he was forced to admit to himself that his hunger for glory had started to wane. Could it be true that he, Kim Seokjin, was getting to the point where he was ‘past it’? Internally, he laughed it off. What a foolish idea! And yet, something about it simply wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Good job today, Tae,” Vernon grumbled as they left the dais after the podium ceremony. It wasn’t, perhaps, the most gracious congratulations Taehyung had ever received. But given the circumstances, it was good of Vernon to say anything at all.

“Thanks, Vern. And… I’m sorry,” he added sheepishly.

Vernon scoffed. “Don’t say shit like that, Tae. You’re a racing driver. The gap was there, and you went for it. You were the better man, today,” he admitted.

Still, not always the best I could be, Taehyung thought to himself.

When he returned to the garage after the post-race interviews, the team party was in full swing. To Taehyung’s distress, however, Jimin was nowhere to be found. Enquiries to the team yielded no joy, with nobody having noticed Jimin leave. Scrambling to his driver room, Taehyung pulled his phone out of the drawer. His heart skipped a beat when he realised Jimin had texted him.

Park Jimin (16.01):

That was a spectacular win today.

Well done on keeping your cool in difficult circumstances.

I’ve gone back to the hotel for a quiet night in. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning to travel to Mexico.

xxx

Taehyung was not prepared for the overwhelming sadness that engulfed him. Sure, it had been him who’d ultimately left, who’d asked for space. But he’d clearly driven a wedge between himself and Jimin and now he didn’t know how to fix it.

*****

Staring at the walls of his suite, Seokjin pondered the feeling of emptiness that had crept into his heart and was currently weighing him down. What sort of things did I do when I was bored and lonely before? he wondered to himself. Jeongguk still hadn’t spoken to him. Not so much as a word. Seokjin knew that he needed to give his lover some space. And yet, his heart ached with longing. A thought suddenly popped into his mind. Whisky. There was a bar in Austin he’d visited several times that had a spectacular selection of Japanese, American and Scotch whisk(e)ys. Perhaps a sit and sip in a quiet environment would help to clear his head.

Practically jumping up from the sofa, Seokjin hauled himself through the shower. Wrapping a white towel around his waist, he blow-dried his hair, examining his face in the mirror. Still handsome, he thought proudly, not that it mattered anyway. He wondered whether his presence would draw any attention, being out alone. The bar he was going to was discreet, but you never knew where fans could find you. Ah, well. He knew how to handle himself if they did. Choosing a fitted pair of dark blue jeans and a sharply cut black pinstriped shirt, Seokjin grabbed his leather jacket and headed downstairs to where his taxi was waiting.

“Another round, please,” Taehyung signalled the bartender, squinting into the dimly-lit room. He couldn’t quite remember whether this was his third or fourth and frankly, he didn’t care. Nothing was fuzzy around the edges as yet, so he knew he hadn’t overdone it. As the bartender (who had definitely recognised him, but hadn’t said a word) brought his drink over, movement from the door caught Taehyung’s eye. Shit, was that…? Yeah. Kim Seokjin, in all his glory. Torn between waving at his nemesis and slinking back into the shadows, Taehyung didn’t manage to move at all.

Seokjin’s body language told a depressing story, Taehyung noted. His normally impeccable posture was slumped, shoulders round and spine practically collapsed in on itself. To say that he and Kim Seokjin had an uneasy relationship was something of an understatement. Having known each other since they were children just starting out in go-karts, they had constantly been pitted against each other from the earliest days. As talented as Taehyung had been, Seokjin was always a couple of steps ahead. Not only that, the older driver seemed to relish making him feel small. Nothing much had changed since they’d reached adulthood and with that, Formula 1. And yet, Taehyung’s heart squeezed as he saw the look of barely-disguised pain on Seokjin’s face. I wonder if him and Jeon are having some trouble in paradise? he wondered.

Taehyung flinched a little as Seokjin’s eyes landed on him, widening almost imperceptibly. Without overthinking it, he raised his glass in Seokjin’s direction. Seokjin’s eyes flickered away for a moment, then back to Taehyung with slightly more intensity. Before Taehyung had managed to process his thoughts, Seokjin had walked over and was standing beside his table.

“Do you mind if I sit?” he asked politely.

“Uh… please. Go ahead,” Taehyung replied, attempting to hide his astonishment.

Seokjin folded his long limbs into the wooden chair, his wide shoulders adding to the awkwardness of the action. “Cheers,” he said flatly, clinking his glass against Taehyung’s. “Nice race today.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung replied warily. “So… what brings you here tonight?”

Seokjin snorted. “I should be asking you that, Taehyung. You won the race today, shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your team? By the way, why isn’t Jimin here? You two seem to be joined at the hip these days.”

Taehyung’s heavy sigh had Seokjin cocking an eyebrow. “The team party finished a couple of hours ago. And Jimin is having a quiet night in at the hotel,” he admitted, staring down at the stained dark wood of the table.

“Taehyung, while there are a lot of stupid people in this world I can assure you that I am not one of them.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked up.

“When one is in a clandestine relationship of one’s own, it becomes much easier to spot the signs,” Seokjin explained. “Correct me if I’m wrong… but from what I can tell, you and Jimin are clearly in love.”

“It wasn’t even supposed to be clandestine!” Taehyung blurted out. “That’s the whole fucking problem here,” he fumed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Seokjin asked. “I know we’ve had our tensions in the past, but I promise you my lips will remain sealed.”

Taehyung smiled wryly. “How long have we known each other, Seokjin? More than twenty years? I remember meeting you in the national karting championship when we were both about three feet tall,” he pointed out. “If I can’t trust you, who can I trust?”

“Good point,” Seokjin agreed. “Please know that the trust goes both ways.”

Smirking, Taehyung replied, “I sure have some questions for you…”

“Save those for later. Now, I want to hear your story,” Seokjin encouraged him, leaning his head on his hand and settling in to listen.

“…and then, I decided I wasn’t going to be treated in such a way so I went out for a walk and left him that note,” Taehyung finished some minutes later.

Seokjin let out a low whistle. “Have you spoken since then?”

“Yeah, I mean, he helped me warm up today and stuff-“

“I mean, have you really spoken, Taehyung? Like, about things that matter.”

“No,” Taehyung admitted. “I told Jimin that I needed some space, and he’s respected that. When he texted me this afternoon, he said he was having a quiet night in and he’d see me tomorrow. So I figured he didn’t want to be with me tonight.”

Seokjin leaned forward and flicked Taehyung on the forehead, hard.

“Ow! Fuck you,” Taehyung spat. “What was that for?”

“Taehyung. You told Jimin that you needed some space, and you haven’t given him an update on that. Of course he’s not going to bother you, no matter how much he wants to see you,” Seokjin explained patiently, like he was talking to a particularly bothersome toddler. “I don’t know if you want my advice, and frankly, I don’t care. But if I were you, after I finish my drink I would go to him. Take him in your arms and tell him just how much he means to you, and do not even think of stopping until he gets it,” Seokjin said firmly.

Taehyung’s eyes shifted from side to side and he chewed on his bottom lip. “All right, I’ll do that,” he agreed. “But only on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You tell me what the hell is going on between you and Jeon. I know you’ve been fucking for months,” Taehyung smirked.

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin launched into his rather sad story. By the time he’d finished, Taehyung wasn’t even trying to hold back his laughter.

“Kim Seokjin, you are a damn fool,” he managed to grit out between peals of laughter. “You should know never to say anything to the press that has the slightest chance of being twisted. I can’t believe you allowed this to happen,” Taehyung added, slapping his hand to his forehead.

“But I didn’t say what he thinks I said,” Seokjin whined, his lips forming a particularly juicy pout.

“Have you told him exactly what you did say?” Taehyung asked.

“He wouldn’t listen,” Seokjin grumbled.

“OK, sure, I get that. Maybe last night he didn’t want to. But it’s been a good twenty-four hours since your stupid fight. You should take your own advice and go to him,” Taehyung declared.

Seokjin looked up through his eyelashes. “You really think that would work?”

“I think it has as much chance of working as me going to see Jimin,” Taehyung shrugged. “And neither of us will know unless we try.”

Silently, Seokjin admitted to himself that Taehyung was right. Noticing that both their glasses were empty, he stood up. “Should we share a taxi back to the hotel?” he asked.

“Your treat?” Taehyung asked cheekily.

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin agreed. “Consider it a gift from a world champion to a future world champion,” he said gently.

That’s the first time he’s shown me that kind of respect as a driver, Taehyung realised, swallowing down the lump in his throat and following Seokjin outside.

The journey passed in companionable silence. Both Taehyung and Seokjin stared out of their respective windows, mired deep in thought about what they were about to do. Once they arrived at the hotel, they took the elevator together. Taehyung’s stop was the first.

“Thanks for the talk,” he said awkwardly. “I appreciate your advice.”

Seokjin smiled coolly. “You have my number, yeah? Let me know how it goes.”

Taehyung tentatively returned the smile. “Yeah, I do. I want to know how it goes for you too, Seokjin. Good luck,” he added as he stepped out of the elevator on to the floor where Jimin’s room was situated.

Travelling up the remaining floors to get to Jeongguk’s room, Seokjin noticed an unexpected warmth unfurling in his chest. That’s what opening yourself up to human connection feels like, he realised. How much had he missed throughout his rather lonely existence? Seokjin resolved, in that moment, never to shut himself away again. But first, he needed to make a phone call…

After leaving the elevator, Taehyung had intended to go straight to Jimin’s room but instead, he found himself wandering the hallways in an attempt to stall. What if Jimin didn’t want to see him? What if showing up on his boyfriend’s doorstep was unwelcome, maybe even upsetting? It was entirely possible that Kim Seokjin had been wrong… Stop talking yourself out of it, Taehyung told himself firmly. Turning around, he strode back in the direction of Jimin’s room. Pausing only to take a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

“Just a moment,” Jimin called in English.

When Jimin opened the door, wet hair slicked back and dressed in his polka dot pyjamas, his mouth fell open in astonishment. “Tae! What are you- Never mind, come in, come in!” Jimin reached out and grabbed Taehyung’s hand, pulling him inside the room. “I thought you were room service with my dessert,” he admitted cheekily.

The moment the door clicked shut, Taehyung stepped forward and enclosed Jimin in his arms. The tiny ‘oof’ Jimin let out almost made him laugh. But he was too busy cradling Jimin’s nape with one hand and stroking up and down his back with the other, far too occupied with breathing in his boyfriend’s scent and luxuriating in the joy of being back in his arms to give his amusement more than a moment’s thought.

“Tae,” Jimin sighed, his body relaxing in Taehyung’s embrace. “Are you all right?”

Drawing back just a little, Taehyung placed his hands on Jimin’s shoulders as he smiled down at him with all the warmth in the world. “Yeah, I’m all right,” he said, fondness oozing out of his every pore. “But I’m always better when I’m with you, Jimin,” he said tenderly, gazing deep into his eyes. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for what happened last night, for my part in it. You were opening up to me, showing me a vulnerable side of you and I simply dismissed it. I see now that what I did was cruel.” Pausing, Taehyung bit his lip nervously. “The thing is, Jimin, I think that maybe I take it for granted that you know how much you mean to me.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, his cherry-pink mouth falling open a little.

“I wondered why you were so upset about the press not getting that we’re in a relationship. But now I’ve realised that I didn’t understand, and I’m sorry. I’ve been dropping hints. Holding your hand everywhere, talking about us spending time together. But those idiots haven’t understood. And I haven’t bothered to change my actions,” Taehyung admitted, pausing for a moment to be sure Jimin was still with him. Satisfied, he continued. “I’ve thought about what you said, and realised that I need the whole world to know and understand that you’re mine, and I am utterly, completely yours. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make them understand.”

“Oh,” fell gently from Jimin’s parted lips. Without thinking, his hand moved to caress Taehyung’s cheek, the sheer devotion in his beloved’s eyes making his heart thunder in his chest. Unable to hold himself back any longer, Jimin rose to his tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss on Taehyung’s waiting mouth. Before he was able to pull away, Taehyung’s hand landed securely on the small of his back, pulling their bodies flush together as he deepened the kiss, filling it with his own desperate yearning.

“You taste like whiskey,” Jimin giggled as they finally broke apart some minutes later.

“Been at a bar,” Taehyung said dismissively. “But I’m here now, with you. Where I should be.”

“Precisely where you should be,” Jimin agreed, his wide smile mirroring the one that had broken out on Taehyung’s face. “I told Hoseok about us, by the way,” Jimin added shyly. “Despite his own love woes, he was super happy for us. Although he did tell me I was an idiot for behaving the way I did,” he acknowledged.

Taehyung smirked. “Is that so?”

Jimin wrinkled his nose. “I agreed with him, you know,” he admitted. “I was being such a hypocrite, Tae. Can you forgive me?”

A knock on the door startled them out of the tender moment.

“That will be my actual dessert,” Jimin pointed out, heading to the door and bringing in the decadent ice cream sundae he’d ordered.

“Hmmmm,” Taehyung  hummed. He pouted in the direction of Jimin’s plate. “I guess I can forgive you, but only on one condition.”

Jimin raised his eyebrows. “And what might that be?”

“That you share your dessert with me,” he said cheekily, dipping his finger in the ice cream and licking it off.

“Oh, no fair,” Jimin whined.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna share?”

“It’s not that,” Jimin rolled his eyes. “It’s just that you should be licking it off me instead.”

Needless to say, the ice cream wasn’t the only thing that got devoured.

Much later, after the walls of Jimin’s hotel room had been privy to a symphony of moans, whines, and frantic begging, a rather more relaxed Taehyung and Jimin made their sticky way up to Taehyung’s suite for the jacuzzi and a clean bed to sleep in. Taehyung had left an apology note and a generous tip for housekeeping, because he was many things, but he wasn’t a savage. Jimin had simply giggled in abject horror at the mess they’d made of the sheets, now covered with whipped cream, strawberry syrup and other, less mentionable substances.  

As Jimin lay stretched out in the jacuzzi bath, perched in Taehyung’s lap with his back resting against his chest, he closed his eyes and smiled dreamily. The click of a phone camera startled him out of his reverie. “Wha-?”

Taehyung laughed, a warm, dark sound that vibrated delightfully against Jimin’s back. “It’s fine, Jiminie. I didn’t get any rude bits,” he teased, smacking a light kiss on Jimin’s cheek.

“Give me that,” Jimin insisted, snatching the phone out of Taehyung’s hand to scrutinise the photo. “Oh…” he uttered, speechless. The moment Taehyung had captured showed Jimin’s head leaning against his shoulder, eyes closed and face the picture of happy relaxation. Taehyung looked just as relaxed, his eyes barely open and a blissful smile on his face as he nuzzled his lips against Jimin’s wet hair. There wasn’t so much as a collarbone on display. And, yet, the intimate nature of the photo was impossible to misread.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung murmured, the buzzing of his lips tickling the side of Jimin’s head where they rested, “how would you feel if I posted this on my Instagram?”

Jimin’s eyes widened and he spun around to look at Taehyung. His boyfriend’s Instagram had over thirty million followers the last time he’d checked… “You’d do that?”

“Only if you’re OK with it,” Taehyung said seriously. “I just thought that… well, it would be pretty hard for people to insist we’re ‘just friends’ after seeing a photo like this.”

An almost painful excitement rose in Jimin, quickly tempered by fear. “What if… what if people are mean about it, Tae? What if they’re mean about me,” he mumbled, looking down at his hand, which traced idle patterns in the bubbly water.

“Unlikely,” Taehyung scoffed. “I think a far more reasonable outcome is that people will say I’m not good enough for you. In any case, if they start talking shit, they’ll have me to deal with,” he added gruffly. Gently caressing Jimin’s jaw, he lifted his face up towards his own. “But baby, if you’re not OK with this, I won’t post it. You have the final say. Always.”

A surge of love rushed through Jimin, bursting out of him in a hearty laugh. “Go ahead, Tae. Let the world know that you’re mine.”

“Really?” Taehyung blurted out, excitement crackling through him. “Just let me write a caption… Hmm… Ah, there we go. How does this sound?” He held the phone where Jimin could read it.

@stalliontae

Winning races on Sunday afternoons is one of my favourite things to do. But even better is spending Sunday nights with @pjmperformance. They say love makes the world go round and you know what? Thanks to Jimin, I’m really starting to believe it. 💜

The small whimper Jimin let out had Taehyung putting the phone aside and wrapping his arms firmly around him. “Sweetheart, I won’t post it. I’ll delete the photo. Pretend it never happened,” he murmured, rubbing Jimin’s arms in an attempt to soothe him.

“It’s not that,” Jimin sniffled. “It’s just that… well, nobody has ever said anything so lovely about me before,” he admitted.

Taehyung looked at him extremely seriously. “Then they’re all fools,” he declared. “Jimin, you’re everything to me. The more I learn about you, the more I love you. And I don’t see that slowing down any time soon.”

A small smile crept on to Jimin’s face. “OK,” he said. “Post it. Let’s watch the world burn.”

The conspiratorial laugh that bubbled up from Taehyung’s chest had them both grinning as though they were in on some secret of national importance. “You ready?” he asked.

“I’m ready.”

“Three, two, one…”

And with that, Taehyung clicked the share button and promptly put his phone where he couldn’t easily reach it. The delighted, hungry look on Jimin’s face let him know that there were certain things that couldn’t wait any longer. Growling playfully, he flipped Jimin around and caged him against the side of the jacuzzi. Leaving a series of small nips on his neck and jaw, feeling Jimin’s body arch against him in obvious need, Taehyung breathed, “You wanna, again?”

“Hell yeah, I wanna,” came the enthusiastic response. There was little need for words after that.

*****

“Hello?” a gruff voice answered.

“It’s Kim Seokjin.”

“Oh, The King! To what do I owe this honour?” the man replied sarcastically.

“I’ll make it quick. I know you record pretty much everything I say to the press. Do you, by chance, have an audio file of the interview I gave to the woman from Sportskeeda yesterday?” he asked abruptly.

The man paused. “Sure, Seokjin. But it’ll cost you.”

“Whatever it costs, I’ll pay.”

“$500 US OK?”

Seokjin cringed, but agreed.

“Can I ask what you need it for? Been misquoted and want to set things right?” the man asked.

Normally, Seokjin wouldn’t answer such questions. But this time, he was caught a little off-guard. “I don’t give a shit what the press say, you of all people should know that. This is for personal reasons,” he admitted.

“Oh, then maybe I shouldn’t have charged you so much… But never mind, you agreed to my terms. Once the money is in my account, I’ll send over the file. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

“OK. Sending it over now,” Seokjin confirmed, hanging up the call.

Quickly bringing up his banking app, Seokjin selected the man’s account from the ‘trusted payees’ section and pinged over the money. Sure enough, about thirty seconds later he had received an audio file. Listening to make sure it was the correct segment, Seokjin was quickly satisfied and sent off a brief thank you text to the man. While the press were a bunch of scoundrels, occasionally they had their uses…

Armed with all the evidence he needed, Seokjin strode confidently towards Jeongguk’s room and knocked on the door. Jeongguk answered with a wary look on his face that quickly turned into one of surprise when he realised it was Seokjin who’d knocked.

“Jin? What’s going on?”

“Can I come in, Guk?”

Jeongguk’s deadpan face held a challenge. “Why?”

Seokjin sighed. “Because I have something I need you to listen to and it’s cold out here in the hallway.”

With a sigh, Jeongguk opened the door enough to let Seokjin through. “This had better be good, Jin.”

Without saying another word, Seokjin pressed play on the audio file and held his phone up.

“Seokjin, you seemed quite happy to congratulate your teammate today. How would you say your opinion of him has changed over the course of this season?”

“It’s certainly been an interesting year. If you’d asked me at the start of the season what I thought of Jeon Jeongguk, I’d have told you that he was not fit to lick my boots as a racing driver. Of course my opinion has changed now that I know what he’s about. Jeongguk is a very fine racer who has his best years in the sport yet to come. I look forward to seeing how he develops. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Jeongguk’s jaw dropped as he silently listened to the recording. A flush had begun to creep up his neck, landing on his cheeks and ears. “You really were misquoted,” he admitted sadly. “And I believed the press instead of you. I’m so sorry, Jin,” he blurted out, dropping his head into his hands.

“Let it be a lesson in never trusting the press,” Seokjin quipped darkly. A moment later, the breath was almost knocked out of him as Jeongguk’s arms wrapped around him, his head barrelling into Seokjin’s stomach.

“Forgive me?” Jeongguk murmured, his face pressed against the waistband of Seokjin’s jeans.

With a gentle exhale, Seokjin caressed the top of Jeongguk’s head. “You’re already forgiven, you idiot,” he said fondly. “I couldn’t believe how much it hurt when you didn’t believe me, how much I needed you to know the truth,” he admitted. “I’m not very good at all this love stuff, you know? But I’m trying to learn,” he finished, his voice trailing off.

“I’m not the greatest at it either. Maybe we can learn together,” Jeongguk reassured Seokjin, smiling shyly up at him. “Now, I think what we need is something sweet from room service and all the cuddles in the world. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Seokjin sighed, bringing Jeongguk up into a full-body hug.

*****

Jimin was comfortably strapped into his seat in the chartered jet, his fingers interlinked with Taehyung’s, when his boyfriend’s planned surprise came to light.

“We’re just about to reach cruising altitude on this relatively short flight today,” the captain said. “Flight time is about two hours and twenty minutes. We should be touching down in Cancun at around half past midday.”

Wait. Cancun? Jimin’s head swivelled in Taehyung’s direction. His boyfriend was smiling enigmatically and attempting to pretend nothing was amiss.

“The weather in Cancun is a balmy twenty-six degrees Celsius, with a high of thirty-three expected later and a warm night to follow.”

“Tae,” Jimin uttered, words failing him for a moment.

“Thought we needed a little treat,” Taehyung mumbled. “Cancun is lovely this time of year. We’ll be leaving for Mexico City on Thursday morning. I’ve let Seojoon know, it’s all covered.”

Jimin’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he realised that Taehyung was blushing. “When did you plan this?”

Taehyung squirmed. “Um. Well, last night, when you were knocked out, after… Yeah. I was watching you sleep and I just thought it would be a good idea…” he trailed off, clearly nervous.

I’ve never been to Cancun before,” Jimin admitted, reassuring him with a grin. “You’ll have to show me all the best spots.”

An adorably shy smile took over Taehyung’s whole body. It seemed he didn’t quite know what to do with his eyes, mouth or hands, ending up wriggling on the spot. “We’re staying at the Impression Isla Mujeres hotel. I’ve been wanting to stay there but they were always booked out. But this time I managed to snag a Paramount Suite,” he confided. Pulling out his phone, he gleefully showed Jimin photos of the stunning room they’d be staying in for the next three nights.

Jimin’s jaw dropped as he took in the glorious ocean views (from the hot tub, no less) and the understated luxury of the surroundings. Part of him wanted to protest, to say that it was far too much money to spend on little old Jimin. But as he met Taehyung’s eyes, it was clear that to him, Jimin was worth every penny and more. Instinctively, he brought Taehyung’s hand up to his lips and left a loud, smacking kiss on the back of it. “I can’t wait to see it, baby,” he murmured excitedly.

Taehyung’s beaming smile filled Jimin with light, love, and security. Yes, he thought, I can allow myself to enjoy this little bit of indulgence, because Tae will be with me.

Taehyung finally got his wish of seeing Jimin lying on the beach, droplets of water adorning his creamy skin. The water sparkled like diamonds as the afternoon sun caught them just at the right angle. Beautifully secluded, the private beach owned by the resort shimmered with a haze of heat and pure, carnal possibility. As Jimin tipped the remains of his brightly coloured, fruity cocktail into his mouth, Taehyung was suddenly desperate to taste it from his lips. Swooping in, he gently licked into Jimin’s mouth, moaning as the sweet and tangy flavour hit his tongue and swallowing Jimin’s small gasp of surprise. When they broke apart, Jimin’s face was flushed, his lips puffy and wet and his starry eyes blown wide.

“Stay still,” Taehyung instructed, snapping a quick photo. “Perfect, Jimin. You’re perfect,” he sighed, twisting around so that he was at right angles to his boyfriend and resting his head on Jimin’s firm stomach.

“What time’s our dinner reservation?” Jimin asked idly.

“Eight,” Taehyung drawled. “Still three hours from now.”

Time slipped away like the golden sand through their fingers and all too soon, it was time to end their blissful day at the beach and dress for dinner. Privately, Taehyung wished they didn’t have to dress at all. The skimpy swim shorts he’d bought for Jimin had definitely set a precedent he wasn’t too keen to change. Still, they hauled themselves off the beach, through the shower and into some nicer clothes before strolling hand-in-hand to the restaurant that Taehyung had booked.

Jimin hadn’t mustered the courage to even glance at the hundreds of Instagram notifications sitting in his account. Every time Taehyung took another photo of him and uploaded it, there would be a flood more of them. And still, Jimin refused to look. He couldn’t help but admit to himself that everything about their little getaway was perfect so far. The hotel, the weather, the atmosphere. The rest of the world could go and fuck itself, for all he cared. With the courage of his thoughts filling him to the brim, Jimin tugged on Taehyung’s hand and grinned at him, delighted to see a matching grin on his boyfriend’s face.

As they wandered up to the restaurant, Taehyung leaned in and whispered, “Are you having a good time, love?”

“The best!” Jimin’s joy bubbled out of him.

“Mr. Kim, Mr. Park, welcome!” the restaurant manager greeted them. “It’s an honour to have you dine with us. Spectacular win yesterday, by the way,” the man complimented Taehyung, leaning in to confide, “I never miss a race.”

Taehyung graciously thanked the man as he showed them to a slightly out of the way table near the back of the restaurant.

Of course the food and service here are impeccable, Jimin thought as he was halfway through his main meal. It was shaping up to be the most perfect of days. His attention was briefly distracted by the arrival of two new patrons, and Jimin half-watched as the two men were seated across the other side of the dining room from them. Recognition buzzed beneath his skin.

“Tae,” he whispered urgently, “don’t look… but isn’t that Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi over there?”

Taehyung’s head whipped around immediately and obviously, while Jimin cringed. “Tae, I told you not to look!”

“It’s definitely them,” Taehyung confirmed.

“Oh God, what am I going to tell Hoseok?” Jimin lamented.

Taehyung gazed at Jimin seriously. “Baby, you don’t have to tell him anything. You don’t have to involve yourself in any way, OK?”

Thinking it through, Jimin decided that he deserved to spend a few days only worrying about himself. “You’re right. I didn’t see anything at all,” he added, his face the picture of innocence.

It was enormously difficult, Yoongi had discovered, to take a man like Kim Namjoon somewhere he’d never been. Especially on a race engineer’s salary when your beau happened to be the team principal. Ultimately, he’d floated several ideas and Namjoon had very gently let him down, eventually suggesting that he should be the one to organise the first date. Yoongi had begrudgingly agreed.

“Take me out somewhere when we’re back in Seoul,” Namjoon had insisted. “I’m sure you know lots of interesting places back home.”

The upshot of which was that Namjoon had convinced Yoongi to accompany him for a couple of days in Cancun in the week between COTA and Mexico City race weekends. Namjoon, ever the gentleman, had insisted on booking Yoongi the suite next door to his own. “Just so you know I’m not expecting anything,” he’d told him extremely seriously.

Yoongi had wondered whether Namjoon was aware that by acting in such a way, the likelihood of him being able to expect something had gone through the roof.

The afternoon had been spent splashing around in the water and sharing a drink on Namjoon’s ocean-facing patio. Yoongi hadn’t dared to allow himself to get too close. And yet, he ached to touch, to run his fingers through Namjoon’s thick, wet hair, trailing them down the side of his neck, his collarbones, cupping around his large, firm pectorals before wrapping firmly around his waist and losing himself to passion. Judging by the smouldering look in Namjoon’s eyes, he was holding back similar desires of his own.

Seated in the restaurant, Yoongi found that his eyes were magnetically drawn to Namjoon’s. He’d always found him attractive – he’d have to be blind not to – and yet, learning more about the tender soul behind the steel armour had increased his attraction beyond measure. The ache returned and this time, Yoongi wasn’t strong enough to resist it. Boldly, he laced their fingers together and rested them back on the tablecloth. Namjoon’s sharp, sensual eyes flashed briefly with giddiness. He squeezed Yoongi’s hand and pointedly looked down at the menu.

“Any idea what you’d like to eat?” Namjoon murmured, perusing the pages.

“You,” Yoongi blurted out. The blush that raced from his neck to his cheeks, and all the way up to his eyebrows, was uncontrollable. He really hadn’t meant to say such a thing…

But when Namjoon’s eyes lifted back to his, the raw need shining out of them almost knocked Yoongi off his chair. He smiled, a tender, sweet thing, belying the words which were about to come out of his mouth.

“You can have me for dessert, if you like. But I’d much rather that be a private affair.”

“They didn’t notice us at all,” Taehyung frowned as he and Jimin left the restaurant some time later. “Totally lost in their own little world.”

“Suits me fine. The less I have to lie to Hoseok, the better,” Jimin replied tartly.

“So, Yoongi,” Namjoon said, pursing his lips. “As we’re headed in the same direction, can I walk you back to your suite?” A shy smile found its way on to his face, the cheeky glint in his eye almost unbearably endearing.

“I think that would be a very pleasant way to end the evening,” Yoongi replied, returning the smile. Namjoon stood up first, offering his arm to Yoongi and gently guiding him out of the restaurant. Despite Yoongi’s rather loose tongue, the date had been both elegant and enjoyable, the flow of conversation never ceasing and laughter lighting up the air around them. Much to Yoongi’s relief, Namjoon had not mentioned the dessert incident again. Every inch the gentleman, Namjoon graciously walked him back to the hotel, casually chatty and full of interesting bits of information about their surroundings. Yoongi wondered whether it was his imagination or whether they really did loiter more and more as they moved closer to the hotel and with it, the end of their scheduled plans. Still embarrassed about what he’d said at the start of the evening, he wasn’t going to press the issue. Although Namjoon had seemed interested…

Namjoon cleared his throat. “Uh, I see that we’re here,” he said awkwardly as they paused in the hallway outside the doors to their suites.

Yoongi looked up at him, momentarily dazzled by the height difference between them. Idly, he wondered how that would feel in bed. Would Namjoon be dominant, or would he want Yoongi to take the reins? Would he like to do the fucking, or did he prefer being fucked? Realising where his mind was going, Yoongi shook his head almost imperceptibly and attempted to stave off his incipient blush. Averting his eyes a little, he mumbled, “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“Me too,” Namjoon intoned, his rich, dark voice raising goosebumps on the back of Yoongi’s neck.

Yoongi felt a feather-light touch on his cheek. His eyes fluttered up and he realised that it was Namjoon’s hand, gently tilting his head to look up at him. “Goodnight, Joon,” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Yoongi,” came the reply.

Neither of them dared to move, both transfixed by the other’s gaze.

Until Namjoon made a wounded sound high in his throat and clumsily leaned forward to catch Yoongi’s lips in a sweet, chaste kiss.

Yoongi’s mind was nothing but static as Namjoon pulled away. The kiss had barely lasted a couple of seconds and yet he was finding it difficult to get his breath. He’d told himself to be careful, not to rush into anything, especially with the way things had started between the two of them… But Yoongi’s body didn’t seem to be getting that memo. Firmly, he told himself to put a stop to it.

“I’m going to turn in now,” he said casually, turning to unlock his door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure,” Namjoon replied, his face betraying nothing at all. “Sleep well.”

“You too.” And with that, he closed the door behind him.

For some reason, Yoongi felt compelled to shower before he went to bed that night. As the water cascaded over him, his mind couldn’t help but be drawn back to that afternoon in the ocean. Namjoon, tall, broad and strong, smiling that smile and splashing Yoongi with childlike playfulness. Yet again, he was seized by the now-familiar ache of needing to touch, to claim. A tightening in his core alerted Yoongi to the situation between his legs. Ah shit, am I going to have to jerk off before I can sleep tonight? he thought to himself in annoyance. An alternative idea flashed into his consciousness… but dare he?

Fuck it, what have I got to lose? Yoongi decided, quickly finishing his ablutions and turning the water off. Towelling himself dry, he slipped on the soft, white cotton robe the hotel had provided. Giving himself a final pep-talk, he slipped out the door of his suite and knocked firmly on the next door.

Yoongi thought he heard the sound of running footsteps just before the door was flung open. The white hotel robe highlighted Namjoon’s tanned skin to perfection, the deep V in the front drawing the eye to the spectacular definition between his pectorals. “Oh, thank God,” Namjoon uttered. Grabbing Yoongi gently by the hand, he pulled him into the room and into his waiting arms.

Later, Yoongi reflected that all of his questions had been answered most satisfactorily.

*****

Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez, Mexico City, Mexico

“Taehyung! How are you feeling now that you and Jimin have made your relationship public?” a reporter called loudly as Taehyung tried to get into the circuit. He paused, turning around to glare at the man. “It was never not public. It’s just that some people really didn’t get it,” he said dryly, continuing on his way.

Seokjin surveyed the scene with interest. While Kim Taehyung had always been openly bisexual and highly un-embarrassed about it, Seokjin still wondered how the media would react to the news that a Formula 1 driver was in a committed same-sex relationship. Sure, Taehyung had dated men before, but only in the same way he’d dated anyone – casually, and refusing to allow himself to be locked down. And yet, he seemed quite happy to lock himself down with Park Jimin…

Seokjin and Jeongguk had been discussing the potential impact of making their relationship public, and therefore official. After much deliberation, they’d decided to wait until the racing season was over – they wouldn’t deny anything, but they wouldn’t make a point of confirming it, either. Taehyung’s situation would serve as a useful litmus test for them to understand what they may end up facing from the press and the public. It was during these discussions that Jeongguk had looked up at Seokjin with his ridiculous starry eyes and said, “We’re talking about making this official with the public, Jin, but we haven’t even made it official between ourselves.”

Jeongguk’s words had sent a cold shiver down Seokjin’s spine. He was absolutely right. They hadn’t made it official between themselves. They had gone as far as discussing sexual health tests and exclusivity, but nothing about their actual relationship. Seokjin had jumped off the sofa at that point, taking Jeongguk by the hands. “You’re right, Guk. We haven’t. But… would you like to? Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Jeongguk had thrown back his head and giggled, the sheer happiness of the sound setting Seokjin off in turn. Somehow, they’d ended up jumping up and down together, laughing and kissing and filled with so much joy that Seokjin honestly thought he would burst with it. Once they’d calmed down a little, Jeongguk had murmured, “By the way, that’s a yes.” And Seokjin had kissed him, deep, pure love flowing from his soul to Jeongguk’s.

Hoseok sighed as he watched Jimin and Taehyung walk past, arm in arm and completely wrapped up in each other. The ghost of a smile crossed his face as he remembered a headline he’d read that morning: Putting the ‘end’ in ‘friends’: Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin make it official. He didn’t like to be jealous, but it was difficult not to be when his own love life was such a mess. Added to that, the rumours of a relationship between his two drivers had reached fever pitch within the confines of the team. A mechanic had reported seeing them sneaking away hand in hand and returning some time later looking rather more dishevelled. Hoseok had to admit that the glances that passed between them during training were rather more heated than one would expect of regular teammates.

As for his own heart, well, it ached. He still couldn’t be in the same place as either Yoongi or Namjoon without wanting to disappear. Of course, it was even worse when they were together, their laughter and ease in each other’s company twisting the knife in Hoseok’s still gaping wound. Hoseok tried not to imagine them in bed together. Really, he did. And yet, when he was alone at night and unable to sleep, images of Yoongi being manhandled by Namjoon flashed through his mind on a never-ending loop. But Hoseok had a job to do, and he prided himself on his professionalism. So no matter how tired he was, he’d drag himself to the gym to oversee his drivers’ training. Thankfully, they were both incredibly hard workers. That, in itself, was its own reward.

Mexico City had always been something of a favourite of Kim Seokjin’s. Having won the race the last four years in a row, that was probably no surprise. Effortlessly, he topped the times in all three Free Practice sessions, with Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk alternating in second and third places. Jeongguk had jokingly complained on the Friday night as they lay in bed watching Netflix. “You have an unfair advantage around here,” he’d whined. “How am I supposed to compete with you?”

Seokjin had simply raised a perfect eyebrow and grinned cheekily. “You aren’t. That’s the whole point,” he’d said, enjoying Jeongguk’s shocked face.

And so, it was time for yet another qualifying session.

Though Kim Taehyung threw everything in his power at the Silver Bullets driver, Kim Seokjin was ultimately peerless. Topping the times in Qualifying 1 and 2, he entered Qualifying 3 as the firm favourite.

“Hyungsikkie, where am I losing time to The King?” Taehyung asked desperately.

“Well, Tae, you know we don’t have access to his telemetry, but from what I can tell, it’s pretty much everywhere,” Hyungsik replied apologetically.

“Fuck,” Taehyung swore under his breath.

Gathering his strength and courage, Taehyung laid everything on the line for his final hot lap. His name flashed to the top of the times and he allowed himself a brief moment of hope. But it was not to be. When Kim Seokjin came over the line he had beaten Taehyung by two tenths of a second. At least Jeon Jeongguk hadn’t managed to squeeze between the two of them… Small mercies, Taehyung thought. Perhaps he could pull off something spectacular tomorrow. Points were earned in the race, not in qualifying, he reminded himself sharply.

A subdued atmosphere pervaded Taehyung’s hotel suite that evening. Jimin had tried to rouse him from his dull mood, to no avail. Taehyung was simply settling in to wallow, and nothing was going to change that. I’m not going to let him drag me down, though, Jimin thought defiantly. Still, he did his level best to care for Taehyung, making him cups of tea and massaging his aching back and legs, smiling indulgently when he realised Taehyung had fallen asleep. Let’s hope he wakes feeling less grumpy tomorrow, Jimin thought, leaning in to leave a kiss on Taehyung’s cheek.

When he awoke on Sunday morning, Jeongguk’s determination burned. His desperation to beat Seokjin had reached new heights. He’d felt like his boyfriend had been taunting him. Though he hadn’t said it in so many words, there had been a suggestion that Jeongguk should just give up on trying to beat Seokjin around this particular track. And if there was one way to rile up Jeon Jeongguk, it was to suggest that he couldn’t do something…

Jimin paced around the Stallions garage, worry contorting his face. Taehyung had not been less grumpy that morning. In fact, he’d been worse. There had been an odd compulsion in the way he spoke, an intensity in his gaze that had left Jimin feeling profoundly uneasy. Telling himself that it was probably all in his mind, Jimin firmly attempted to push those feelings away. And yet, something unsettling clung to him as the day progressed.

This is becoming so predictable, Jeongguk thought as he slotted into his grid box directly behind Seokjin. With Kim Taehyung off to the side of him, Jeongguk knew he’d have to fight hard if he wanted to get anywhere near the win today. Lucky I’m strong, he reminded himself as the five red lights went on.

As expected, Seokjin scampered away. Taehyung’s start hadn’t been good enough to pose a real challenge, and in fact, he had to scramble just to stay ahead of Jeongguk. But Taehyung was far from ready to settle for second place. Over the first five laps he wound the gap tighter and tighter until he was almost pushing Seokjin’s car along the circuit. There was a desperation in him that would not be quenched. Kim Taehyung needed to leave the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez as the outright championship leader and he would do whatever it took to make that happen.

“Tae, do you think you might want to cool it a little?” Hyungsik’s voice came over the radio. “You’re practically bathing in Kim Seokjin’s dirty air. There’s really no need for that.”

Red mist came down inside Taehyung’s helmet. How dare Hyungsik tell him not to race! Fuming, he decided to ignore his engineer’s words completely and continue to do exactly what he’d been doing – putting pressure on Kim Seokjin. Jeon Jeongguk had faded a little into the distance, unable to keep up with the blistering early pace. So Taehyung really only had himself and Seokjin to think about. With his anger revving higher than his engine, Taehyung very nearly ran into the back of Seokjin around the tight Horquilla corner.

“Maybe that will make you listen,” Hyungsik deadpanned.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t. Taehyung’s hunger for the win only grew more insatiable. Nipping at Seokjin’s rear wheels for the next few laps, Taehyung desperately searched for an opportunity to pass. Seokjin, of course, was impeccable with his car placement. But Seokjin wasn’t Kim Taehyung. Just as Taehyung was almost ready to give up for the time being and allow himself to drift away and conserve tyres for a few laps, the opportunity he’d been waiting for arrived, tied with a big silver bow. With no preparation whatsoever, Taehyung flung the car past Seokjin in a move that nobody else on the grid would have even considered. Barely clinging on to control, he hustled the car back on to the racing line and hit the brakes. Kim Taehyung’s feel for braking exceeded that of any other driver currently racing, and so he didn’t give it a second thought until suddenly, the car was speeding off the track. The wall, which had seemed so comfortably far away, was rushing toward Taehyung. And there was nothing he could do about it. His steering had locked and he was nothing but a passenger in his own car as it thumped heavily against the concrete.

The first thing Taehyung noticed was the quiet. The second, the pain. His right shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the impact, was burning with white-hot agony, his head spinning dangerously as he attempted to focus his vision.

“Tae! Answer us, are you OK?”

“Uh. I crashed,” was all he could manage to utter.

“Copy that. Are you OK, repeat, are you OK?” Hyungsik asked, his voice increasingly frantic.

“Shoulder fucking hurts,” Taehyung spat.

“They’ve red flagged the race,” Hyungsik informed him. “The medical car is on its way.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung murmured.

“Don’t worry about that for now,” Hyungsik replied kindly. “We just want to know that you’re OK.”

With the assistance of the medical staff, Taehyung was able to get out of the car and hobble away from the accident. The crowd cheered, delighted to see him out of the car and moving. Although their cheers felt rather more like jeers to Taehyung.

“Is he OK? Please tell me he’s OK,” Seokjin asked frantically as the red flag flashed up on his dashboard. “I mean that was a fucking stupid move, but that’s what you get from him sometimes,” he grumbled.

“Driver is conscious. The medical car has been dispatched,” Yoongi informed him.

“I wanted to beat him, but I don’t want to see him hurt,” Seokjin confided.

“Jesus Christ, Jjunie. That was a big one,” Jeongguk exhaled. “Is Taehyung OK?”

“Reports say he’s conscious and moving,” Yeonjun confirmed. “Sustained a pretty big shunt, though.”

That’s one less car between me and my beloved boyfriend, Jeongguk found himself sarcastically thinking. Even at a time like this, when one of his colleagues was injured, his competitive streak refused to lie down.

Fortunately, Taehyung’s crash hadn’t caused a great deal of damage and so the race could be restarted twenty minutes later. Seokjin felt oddly hollow when the cars formed up on the grid for the second time and there was no car on the other side of the front row. Perhaps that was enough to mar his concentration. Whatever the case, when the lights went out his car bogged down just enough to spoil his launch. Seokjin’s heart sank as Jeongguk’s Silver Bullet raced past him and slotted in ahead. Despite all his efforts, Seokjin was constantly playing catch-up from that point forward. His attempts to undercut his teammate were unsuccessful and ultimately, he couldn’t get close enough to pull off a move. And that was how Kim Seokjin lost the Mexico Grand Prix for the first time in five years.

He couldn’t even bring himself to frown when he noticed a brand new addition to the top three – Kai Huening in his Hayes. “Congratulations on your first podium!” he enthused as the tall, shy boy’s face split into an enormous grin. Seokjin made sure to spray Kai with extra champagne during the podium ceremony. One never forgot the first time they stood on a Grand Prix dais, and he wanted to make sure that Kai’s memories were sweet.

The challenge in Jeongguk’s eyes as he stood on the top step, however, was far from sweet. Seokjin relished the idea of punishing him once the festivities were over.

****

“Where is he? I need to see him,” Jimin begged as he practically flew into the medical centre.

“Jimin?” Taehyung’s groggy voice called.

“Baby, I’m here,” Jimin replied frantically. After what felt like an eternity, Taehyung finally came into view. Battered and bruised, his shoulder heavily bandaged, he was nevertheless alive. A wounded noise made its way out of Jimin’s mouth as he rushed to Taehyung’s side and gently placed his hands on him. Just to make sure he was really there, that he was really OK.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung sighed. “I fucked up. Did Seokjin win?”

Jimin couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Trust you to ask the important questions… No, he didn’t. Bogged down at the restart and Jeongguk got him. But Seokjin did get the fastest lap.”

“So he’s nineteen points ahead of me now,” Taehyung said poutily.

“Don’t worry about that,” Jimin chided him. “The most important thing is your recovery.”

“Speaking of which,” the doctor said loudly, “You’re going to need to rest that shoulder for a few days. I can’t guarantee you’ll be passed fit for the next Grand Prix,” he warned. Beckoning to Jimin, he spoke quietly about the strengthening exercises Taehyung would need to do once the shoulder had healed a little. “I can trust you to take care of him, that much I know,” he finished, patting Jimin heartily on the back. “Now you,” he directed at Taehyung, “Don’t you dare do anything strenuous for at least three days, OK?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “What am I gonna do? It’s not like I can drive,” he pouted. Then and there, Taehyung made the decision that he would be passed fit for the next grand prix. He’d never missed a Brazilian Grand Prix and he wasn’t about to start now.  

Chapter Text

“What do you say, Jeongguk?” Seokjin intoned menacingly. He yanked his boyfriend’s hair back, angling his neck so that Jeongguk’s head rested awkwardly against his shoulder.

A trail of drool fell from Jeongguk’s mouth as Seokjin punctuated his words with another powerful thrust. Seokjin was deep inside him, fucking him from behind in a manner so exquisite that he was worried he might cry. Or else, dissolve into a puddle of Jeon Jeongguk-shaped goo. Either way, it was safe to say he wasn’t really in control of his actions.

“Uh… I… Aaah!” he screamed as the head of Seokjin’s deliciously thick cock hit his prostate dead-on at the same time as his fingers tightened in his hair yet again. The sting of his lover’s rough grip felt so, so sweet…

“What. Do. You. Say?” Seokjin repeated icily, each word vibrating against the tender skin of Jeongguk’s ear.

Jeongguk was about to reply when Seokjin’s hand closed around his cock, long fingers toying with the stickiness at the head. “Fuc-Aargh!” was the noise wrenched from his lips as Seokjin continued to fuck him at a merciless pace.

Letting out a theatrical sigh, Seokjin informed him, “You say, ‘I’m sorry, Jin. I’m sorry I was such a disrespectful little brat. I won’t do it again’. Got that?”

“ ‘M so- Hah… I’m sorry, Jin,” Jeongguk wailed in desperation. Seokjin’s thrusts were not letting up in their intensity and nor was the hand on his cock.

“Good,” Seokjin murmured. “Now the rest.”

Jeongguk wailed. “I can’t… Oh fuck… Jin, please.”

Grabbing the base of Jeongguk’s cock with a firm grip, Seokjin whispered, “I’m gonna stay right here inside you, just like this. But I won’t move again until you say it.”

The crestfallen sound that Jeongguk emitted almost had Seokjin feeling sorry for him.

Almost.

“J-Jin,” he choked out, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such a disrespectful little brat. I won’t do it again.” Every word was a struggle to get out. But Jeongguk had done it. He’d said what he needed to say.

“Good boy, Jeongguk,” Seokjin’s silky voice caressed the words. Without warning, he began pistoning his hips at breakneck speed once more.

Jeongguk’s body began to shudder and shake, incoherent mumbles falling from his lips as he surrendered the very last crumbs of control he possessed. When Seokjin’s thumb dug meanly into his slit, Jeongguk screamed, cum practically exploding out of him as he clenched vigorously around Seokjin’s cock. A long, low moan followed the scream as Seokjin pummelled his sensitive walls without mercy. Jeongguk was too spent to complain, his body going limp until finally, Seokjin’s body stiffened and Jeongguk felt himself being flooded with his boyfriend’s release.

Collapsed on the bed, legs and arms wildly askew and Seokjin slumped on top of him, Jeongguk briefly wondered if this was heaven. “I want you to meet my mother,” he murmured just before his eyes fell closed.

“Weird segue, but OK,” Seokjin laughed, hugging him tightly.

*****

Built for speed as he was, Taehyung was not a particularly heavy man. But his sheer refusal to help himself certainly made him seem that way as Jimin attempted to hustle him out of the car and into his palatial home. “Tae, a little help here?” he grunted as Taehyung’s full weight landed on his side.

A tired sigh emanated from deep in Taehyung’s chest. “I’ll try, I guess,” he replied limply.

Since the doctor had informed Taehyung that there was a chance he may not be passed fit to race in Brazil, his mood had been darker than the stormclouds rolling over the horizon. Jimin was fast approaching the end of his tether. With an annoyed huff, he bent down and used the strength in his legs to lift Taehyung into his arms. Paying no attention to the yelp his boyfriend let out, Jimin speed-walked him to the front door, punched in the code, and navigated the way to Taehyung’s bedroom where he dumped the racer unceremoniously on his bed.

“Ouch,” Taehyung grumbled.

Jimin panicked. “Baby, did I hurt your shoulder? I’m so sorry…”

“No,” Taehyung replied, laughing in embarrassment. “You just kind of gave me a wedgie, that’s all.” 

“Oh,” Jimin uttered, joining in with Taehyung’s laughter. “Need some help to get it out?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Taehyung sighed in relief.

With clinical precision, Jimin set about removing Taehyung’s errant underwear from his ass crack, trying desperately to keep a straight face as he did so. Situation rectified, Jimin was about to stand up again when Taehyung drawled, “You know, while you’re down there…”

Jimin suddenly found himself facing a very large bulge. “Tae,” he said in exasperation, “You know we shouldn’t. The doctor said absolutely no strenuous activities for at least four days and it’s barely been two.”

“What’s strenuous for me about you putting those beautiful lips around my cock, though?” Taehyung asked innocently. “I promise I’ll be so good, Jiminie. I won’t move at all, I’ll just let you have your way with me.”

Taehyung’s dick gave an obvious kick inside his baggy grey sweatpants and Jimin knew he’d lost the battle. Maybe Taehyung’s low mood was partly due to feeling pent-up? In any case, he couldn’t leave his love wanting, now, could he? The fact that he couldn’t wait to stretch his lips around Taehyung’s massive girth and taste the tangy, bitter flavour of his precum had absolutely nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. Without another word, Jimin slid Taehyung’s sweatpants and boxers off, laughing indulgently as he watched his boyfriend’s cock lurch in barely-contained excitement. “Baby, have you been suffering?” Jimin asked teasingly, licking his lips and wrapping both hands around the base of Taehyung’s cock.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you so bad,” Taehyung whined, his breath catching in his throat as Jimin spat lewdly on his dick, spreading it around with his hand.

“Well you won’t be doing that until you’ve proven you’re able to drive an entire Grand Prix weekend,” Jimin said flatly. “So we’ll just have to make do.” With that, he took the tip of Taehyung’s cock in his mouth and sucked gently, peering up at Taehyung as he did so.

“Jimin,” Taehyung whined, “You can’t just do that. I’ll last like five seconds.”

“So?”

“So, I have a reputation to uphold,” Taehyung blustered, a whine catching in his throat as Jimin did something unspeakable with his tongue.

Jimin pulled off and smiled enigmatically. “Like I give a damn about your reputation when I’ve got my own to worry about,” he scoffed. With a wicked glint in his eyes, he sank down until Taehyung’s cock was lodged deep in his throat. The strangled noise Taehyung let out told Jimin that he’d made his point.

Unsurprisingly, Taehyung didn’t last long, coming down Jimin’s throat in a matter of a few minutes. Jimin, however, was delighted to have such a powerful effect on his boyfriend. Pulling off after Taehyung had begun to whimper from oversensitivity, Jimin crawled up and laid his head on the uninjured side of Taehyung’s chest. Contented noises hummed from the base of Taehyung’s ribcage, his long fingers stroking soothing patterns on Jimin’s back. Just as Jimin thought that Taehyung was falling asleep, he murmured something unintelligible.

“What was that, baby?” Jimin asked.

“Will you stay here while I’m recovering?” Taehyung repeated more clearly. “I’ll feel so much better knowing you’re here with me,” he added.

Jimin’s eyes darted to Taehyung’s face. The sheer vulnerability in his boyfriend’s soft brown eyes had Jimin’s breath catching in his throat. Sweet, sticky love filled all the space inside his chest and he surged forward to leave a kiss on Taehyung’s cheek.  “You really want me to stay?”

Taehyung blushed. “Yeah. The more I think about it, the less I think I can live without it,” he murmured. Clearing his throat and averting his eyes, he added, “Live without you, just to be clear.”

Jimin was legitimately worried that he might melt. The sweet, sticky feeling expanded into all the tiny cracks it had managed not to fill previously. “The good news is that you won’t have to,” he grinned, his heart lurching at Taehyung’s delighted face. “I’ll stay, as long as I can do some washing. I hope you won’t get sick of seeing me in the same clothes I’ve been wearing for the last couple of weeks…”

Cut off by Taehyung’s lips on his, Jimin’s eyes blew wide. Once Taehyung had finished kissing him, he threw Jimin a sidelong glance.

“Or you could just not bother wearing any…”

Jimin emitted an outraged squawk and went to playfully shove Taehyung before he realised that he really shouldn’t do that to someone nursing an injury. “You’re lucky you’re in need of extra care,” he muttered cheekily.

“Stop your chattering and cuddle me,” Taehyung teased, batting his eyelashes in a way that shouldn’t be anywhere near as attractive as it was.

Jimin was only too happy to oblige.

*****

Yoongi cast a shy glance across the small table toward Namjoon. The tall, bulky man was awkwardly squished into a tiny wooden chair, looking rather too big for this place altogether. And yet Yoongi was almost painfully endeared. Namjoon looked happy. Carefree. Young, especially in his relaxed fit jeans and light blue hoodie. And Yoongi was beginning to realise that he’d had a lot to do with that transformation.

“You know what, I think you were right. This is the best jjajangmyeon in Seoul,” Namjoon mused, savouring his final bite. “Thank you for bringing me here, Yoongi.”

Namjoon’s sharp, dramatic eyes had softened, the look in them making Yoongi a little weak at the knees.

“You’re welcome, Joonie,” he murmured almost under his breath. “I finally got to take you out on a date, huh?” he tacked on, a cheeky inflection to his words.

Namjoon threw his head back and laughed, a deep, resonant chuckle that had Yoongi’s stomach vibrating with joy. “I told you I’m not that difficult to please. I just wanted to spoil you,” he admitted. “We had fun in Cancun, though, didn’t we?”

Memories, not all of them PG-rated, flashed into Yoongi’s mind. They had spent several glorious days enjoying the Mexican sunshine. The nights, however, were Yoongi’s particular favourite memories. His cheeks flushed pinkly as he remembered perching on Namjoon’s lap on the terrace of his suite on their final night, when they hadn’t been able to keep their hands (and lips) off each other and things had gotten rather scandalous… Thankfully, it had been dark enough to preserve their modesty. Yoongi was certain the ocean had seen far worse in its lifetime.

“Yeah, Joonie. We did,” he blurted out, trying to wrench his mind back to the present.

Namjoon raised his eyebrows and bit his lip. “What’cha thinking about?” he murmured lowly.

Yoongi made a small, embarrassed noise.

“If it’s anything like what I’m thinking about, we should probably get out of here,” Namjoon declared.

Yoongi jumped up to pay the bill, but the server informed him that Namjoon had already settled it. The feeling of Namjoon’s hand, large and possessive, resting against the small of his back had Yoongi’s skin prickling with excitement.

“Come back to mine?” Namjoon asked shyly.

Yoongi met his eyes and broke into a gummy smile. “I’d love to.”

Namjoon grinned, suddenly looking much younger again, and held out his hand for Yoongi to take. The pair almost skipped back to his car, swinging their linked hands between them. Yoongi was enjoying the moment so much he was paying little attention to anything else around him until a rather too familiar silhouette appeared, walking toward them.

Oh shit, Yoongi realised. Hoseok.

By the time he’d registered his ex-lover it was too late to pretend he hadn’t. Namjoon froze, clearly experiencing the same thing.

“Hoba,” Yoongi breathed as the other man came to a stop in front of them.

Yoongi instinctively let go of Namjoon’s hand.

“Hello, Yoongi. Hello, Namjoon,” Hoseok replied, his usually loud and confident delivery reduced to a thread of its normal self. “You two look like you’re having a good night,” he added, failing to cover up the bitter note in his raspy voice.

Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged a look. Neither of them had any idea how to handle the situation. After a few awkward moments, Namjoon was the first to respond. “Uh. Yeah. We’ve just been for dinner, and now…”

Yoongi cringed as Namjoon trailed off, clearly realising that he didn’t want to elaborate in front of Hoseok.

“Yeah, I’m gonna stop you there,” Hoseok laughed humourlessly. “I guess I’ll see you both at Team HQ.” Without a moment’s pause, Hoseok turned on his heel and set off back in the direction he’d come from.

It was only much later, when Namjoon’s head was between Yoongi’s legs and the fires of delight were licking at the pit of his stomach, that Hoseok’s face flashed back into his mind. As Yoongi came with Namjoon’s name on his lips, Hoseok’s face was the one he saw as his eyes screwed shut in bliss. And yet, when he opened his eyes to see Namjoon gazing at him with utter devotion, he knew he would do absolutely anything to keep him happy. Banishing all other thoughts, Yoongi pulled Namjoon up to kiss him, deep and tender. Tasting himself on Namjoon’s tongue only added to the pull he felt toward him, the undeniable chemistry they shared. Why would he want anything more than this?

*****

Jimin took a moment to wipe his brow and splash his face with cold water before heading back into Taehyung’s home gym setup. Of course, Taehyung was still hard at it, doing extra sets of the rehabilitation exercises the doctor had carefully set for him.

“Tae, don’t you think you should stop now?” Jimin called, exasperated. He certainly couldn’t accuse Taehyung of not working hard enough… But the fact remained that he was a little worried about him overdoing it.

“Just gotta finish this set, Jiminie. Then I’m all yours.”

Jimin had to admit that a week out from his crash, Taehyung’s shoulder was certainly looking strong. The bruising had faded from vivid purple to a light yellow, and the swelling had disappeared entirely. Yesterday, Taehyung had been told by his doctor that if he continued to progress at this rate there was little doubt he’d be ready to compete in Brazil. Naturally, that had spurred him on to work even harder. Taehyung was being careful, for the most part. Jimin was seeing to that. There was no way he would allow him to do anything that might jeopardise his recovery. But still, he wondered whether Taehyung was risking his long-term future for short-term gain by pushing so hard. Jimin had tried to broach the subject, but as he’d expected, Taehyung merely brushed off his concerns.

“Jiminie, I know myself. I won’t push too far. C’mon, you know me too. I’m capable of more than this,” he’d rolled his eyes.

Grudgingly, Jimin had to admit that Taehyung was the expert on his own body. Still, he made sure to work extra hard in their remedial massage sessions, doing his best to ensure Taehyung’s shoulder healed as well as possible. It was during one of these sessions that Taehyung mumbled something slightly garbled into the pillow. Jimin stiffened. “Did you just say what I think you said, Taehyungie?”

Taehyung laughed. “I said, let me eat you out,” he replied, clearer this time.

Jimin let out a squeaky laugh. “You’re insatiable, Kim Taehyung!” he laughed, trying to deflect him. But Taehyung was not to be deflected.

“Jiminie, you know it makes sense. You can just bend forward in front of the massage table. I’ll scooch up a bit and then I won’t have to move my shoulder at all,” he protested. “Let me eat you out, please, baby,” he whined, his eyes softening and lips forming the pout that Jimin simply couldn’t resist.

“You gotta give me a few minutes to clean up first,” Jimin protested.

“Fine. Take as many minutes as you need,” Taehyung said airily. “I’ll be here waiting.”

With a frustrated huff, Jimin headed for Taehyung’s ensuite, excitement nevertheless prickling underneath his skin. Upon Jimin’s return, cleansed, naked and sweet-smelling, Taehyung’s eyes sparked into life. “You’re stunning, Jimin,” he breathed, reaching out to trail his fingers down his boyfriend’s abdomen. “How am I supposed to wait any longer to fuck you?”

“You’re not fucking me until you’ve proven you can drive an entire Grand Prix weekend without hurting yourself and that’s that,” Jimin retorted. “Brazil’s going to be even tougher because there’s a Sprint as well. Now lie still and stop your whining.”

“Make me,” Taehyung baited him, poking out his tongue.

So Jimin did as he’d been asked and bent over in front of the massage table, grabbing on to the back of a chair for support. Which turned out to be a fortunate choice. As Taehyung’s hot tongue licked around his rim, Jimin had to forcibly stop himself from bucking his hips in pleasure. He wouldn’t be responsible for hurting Taehyung and that was the end of it. Having to stay still only intensified the feeling of each suck, kiss and nibble, and when Taehyung’s tongue breached his hole Jimin let out a broken cry. Never in his life had Jimin come from being rimmed, and he wasn’t sure it was even possible for him. When he’d told Taehyung this, his boyfriend hadn’t said a word. And yet, Jimin had to admit that something about this felt different to other experiences he’d had. Using the tiny amount of brain space he had left, Jimin mulled it over and realised that the difference was, pure and simple, Taehyung himself. He’d never felt so desired, so beautiful, so loved. Giving up on thoughts, Jimin surrendered himself to pure sensation, feeling himself being carried away by it. Not thinking about the destination, Jimin simply allowed himself to enjoy the journey, and so It took him by surprise when he felt his gut tighten with an impending climax. Jimin’s orgasmic moan began deep in his chest, rising through the octaves until it ended as a shriek, his breath coming fast and hard as he spurted thick, messy jets of white all over the wooden floor. “Oh shit,” he breathed, just barely managing to hold himself up on unsteady legs.

“Tae,” he huffed, his face slack with pleasure. “What the fuck?”

“Seems you’re learning all sorts of new things about yourself, hmm?”

Jimin had to forcibly stop himself from attacking Taehyung with tickles for fear he might hurt his shoulder. He contented himself with kisses all over his boyfriend’s cheekily grinning face, instead.

“Don’t you dare expect to get any sleep at all on Sunday night if I finish both races in Brazil,” Taehyung teased.

“Is that a challenge?” Jimin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re damn right that’s a challenge,” Taehyung grinned. “One I have every intention of rising to.”

*****

Autódromo José Carlos Pace, São Paulo, Brazil

Seokjin raised his head to wave to the crowds lining his path into the circuit. While he wasn’t the most popular driver with the Brazilian fans, the spectators here treated everyone like a superstar. The Brazilian fans’ enthusiasm, knowledge and sheer love for the sport made Interlagos a place all the drivers loved to return to year upon year. The fast, frantic circuit reliably inspired some of the best racing of the season. Seokjin genuinely couldn’t wait to get out on track.

A near-deafening roar signalled the arrival of the local fans’ true hero. Seokjin couldn’t help but smile wryly when he heard them begin a rhythmic chant of “Kim Taehyung! Kim Taehyung!” The Stallions driver’s popularity in Brazil was so astounding that the government had actually offered him honorary citizenship. Seokjin couldn’t compete with that, nor did he feel the need to do so. Truthfully, he was delighted that Taehyung had been passed fit to race. While the circumstances of Taehyung’s crash had really been his own fault, Seokjin wasn’t going to hold that against him. Grudgingly, he’d admitted to himself that he was actually starting to like his one-time nemesis. They’d been in contact via text during Taehyung’s rehabilitation, and Seokjin was one of the first people outside of Taehyung’s immediate circle to be told when he was given the go-ahead to race in Brazil. Whipping around, he waved heartily at Taehyung, sending the crowd into an even bigger frenzy. As expected, Park Jimin was on Taehyung’s arm, the pair of them looking beautiful, relaxed and happy.

Perhaps it’s not a lost cause to imagine that with Jeongguk, he found himself thinking. During the two weeks since Mexico City, he and Jeongguk had barely left each other’s sides. Seokjin had done what he’d once deemed unthinkable and had allowed Jeongguk to see and even touch his three World Driver’s Champion trophies. Jeongguk’s jaw had fallen open when Seokjin had first led him into his sanctuary and he’d realised that the trophies in the downstairs cabinet were nothing but a decoy.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever allowed into this room except for the people who created it,” Seokjin admitted in a low voice.

Jeongguk had turned around and taken Seokjin in his arms, his eyes sparkling brighter than the Milky Way as he gazed deeply into his lover’s eyes. “Thank you for trusting me this much,” he’d whispered. “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

Later that same day, while Jeongguk dozed beside him, Seokjin smiled to himself and mused that he was becoming more certain he wouldn’t be regretting anything when it came to this relationship.

*****

“Tae, how’s the shoulder?” Hyungsik asked over the radio after Taehyung’s first few tentative practice laps. He’d been fine in the simulator at Team HQ, but everyone knew that as good as simulators had become, they were no match for the brute force of a real Formula 1 car.

“Hmm. Not as bad as I’d feared. Not as good as I’d hoped,” Taehyung replied flatly. “Suppose I’d better keep going and see how things shake out.”

“Just be careful out there, Tae. You’re more important than a race weekend. By the way, Jimin is standing right next to me and he’s nodding so hard in agreement I think his head might fall off.”

Taehyung laughed. “Well, I can’t go upsetting my Jiminie, can I? And you, of course, Hyungsikkie,” he added teasingly.

Pushing the niggling tightness in his shoulder to the back of his mind, Taehyung focused on keeping the car planted and smooth. By the time he’d finished the first practice session in a respectable third place behind the two Silver Bullets, he felt rather more like himself.

Laid out on the portable massage table in his driver room, Taehyung groaned as Jimin’s magical tiny hands dug into the meat of his shoulder just right. “I think you’re made of fairy dust, Jiminie,” he said dreamily.

Jimin was pleased that Taehyung’s eyes were closed because it meant that he wouldn’t see him blush. Frankly, it was ridiculous how giddy Taehyung still made him feel. They’d been together for just over two months now, surely he should be over the giddiness already? Laughing sarcastically, Jimin deflected Taehyung’s compliment. “Nah, it’s just years of hard work and training, Taehyungie. Not even a hint of fairy dust, I’m afraid.”

Jimin yelped as a hand shot out and gripped him by the wrist. Taehyung carefully brought Jimin’s hand to his mouth, fluttering kisses all over his fingers and finally placing one in the centre of his palm. “Well I say you’re made of fairy dust. So there,” he retorted, poking out his tongue.

Unable to help the ridiculous little giggle he let out, Jimin felt his cheeks grow hotter at Taehyung’s words. “I might be a fairy, but you’re my handsome prince,” he teased.

Taehyung laughed out loud. “Look at you go with your sweet talk, Park Jimin!” Reaching out greedily, he pulled Jimin closer to him as he sat up on the massage table, leaning in to capture those sweet-talking lips with his own.

Naturally, things got a little heated. Jimin had to firmly step away to avoid the situation devolving to a point where they’d be in jeopardy of causing an incident. “Save it for Sunday night,” he drawled, moving toward the door. “You have a challenge to rise to, remember?”

Taehyung’s pained groan echoed in Jimin’s mind for the rest of the day.

*****

Given that it was a sprint weekend, the single practice session had felt like gold dust. While admittedly, all the drivers were in the same situation, Taehyung was the one who potentially suffered the most from lack of track time.

Jeongguk knew this, of course. He simply didn’t care. If he can’t take the heat he needs to get out of the fire, he thought to himself as he pumped in yet another lap that took him to the top of the timesheets in sprint qualifying. So far, Kim Taehyung had only managed second, splitting the two Silver Bullets by a whisker. SQ2 was the same, the top three remaining in their positions from the first session.

“How’s he doing?” Jimin murmured urgently to Hyungsik as the first laps began to hit the board in SQ3.

“Pretty great, considering,” Hyungsik replied. “I know he won’t be happy if he doesn’t get the sprint pole, but given what he’s coming back from it’s a miracle he’s even out there on track.”

“I hope he doesn’t push himself too hard,” Jimin sighed, taking his seat next to Hyungsik. The engineer gave him a shoulder pat in solidarity.

Kim Seokjin was the first of the top three to finish his hot lap. Faster than his teammate had managed in SQ2, it was a solid effort. Jeon Jeongguk gritted his teeth and drove the best lap of his weekend so far, beating his teammate by half a tenth. Kim Taehyung threw all caution to the wind and delivered a masterclass around Interlagos. Smooth, inch-perfect and fast, the only thing that marred it was a slightly oversteer-laden exit on one of the corners. As Taehyung crossed the line, Jimin crossed his fingers tightly.

“Damn,” he hissed as the number 2 came up next to Taehyung’s name. The disappointment only lasted a split second, however, as it dawned on him that Taehyung would be starting on the front row in tomorrow’s sprint race.

Anything could happen from there.

*****

Jeongguk stared into the bathroom mirror as he dried himself after a cold shower. His full sleeve of tattoos lent him a menacing aura, if one didn’t look too closely. Unfortunately he was cursed with a terminal case of baby face. Seokjin had taken to calling him “Bambi”, which Jeongguk had protested against vehemently. Naturally, this only made Seokjin call him that all the more often. He loved Seokjin, really he did… But Jeongguk was determined that people should take him seriously as a threat for the title and being called “Bambi” certainly didn’t help, especially when he said it in front of other drivers. Honestly, he didn’t know what more he could do to help his cause.

Seokjin knocked on the door. “Guk-ah, are you done yet? I have to pee.”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes fondly. “Jin, there are two bathrooms in this suite…”

“Yeah, but the other one’s all the way past the kitchen,” Seokjin grumbled petulantly.

Sighing, Jeongguk pulled on the clean pair of boxers he’d left sitting on the bathroom bench. “All right, I’m coming out,” he muttered, flinging the door open just in time for Seokjin to sprint past him.

“Oh thank God,” Seokjin breathed, his penetrating voice carrying easily into the bedroom as he was finally able to let fly. “I was dying for that!”

Despite his annoyance at being interrupted, Jeongguk couldn’t help but laugh. One of the wonderful things he was discovering about Kim Seokjin was how brilliantly silly he could be. How that part of him had been forcibly locked away for so many years… and how beautiful it was that it could now blossom. Even if sometimes it drove Jeongguk mad.

Still, however, Jeongguk didn’t have a solution to his problem. Deep down he knew that all he could hope for was to do his talking on the track. Although his beloved boyfriend and Kim Taehyung were making that increasingly difficult. The fact was, Jeongguk wasn’t used to being third-best, and truthfully, he didn’t much like it. For a moment, he longed to be back in Formula 2, where his ability was so far above the other drivers’ that he seemed almost untouchable. He’d known, intellectually, that it wouldn’t be the same once he reached Formula 1. And yet the reality stung far more than he’d anticipated.

Jeongguk straightened up his posture as he glared into the full-length mirror in the suite’s elegant bedroom. There were two chances to get ahead, this weekend. He would be starting from Sprint pole tomorrow, which was definitely a good start. Realistically, it was all down to him to change his fate.

*****

Arriving at the track on Saturday, Taehyung grimaced as he glanced up into the stands. Enormous swathes of red decorated the stands – almost more than in Monza. It was the signs people held up, however, that really stopped him in his tracks.

Kim Taehyung – Senna’s Heir

Kim Taehyung vai ser campeão!

Kim Taehyung é o maior!

Sign after sign after sign declaring their devotion to him. In previous years it had made him feel indestructible. Today, it felt rather more suffocating. What if he let them down, these heartfelt fans? How could he live with himself, then?

A warm sensation enveloped Taehyung and he realised that Jimin had wrapped his arms around him from behind. Taehyung couldn’t help but melt into his embrace. “How did you know I needed that right now?” he whispered.

“I could see the cogs in your brain whirring away,” Jimin expained. “Sometimes the best thing to do in that situation is just to get yourself a hug from someone who loves you.”

Uncaring of the other people milling about in the paddock, Taehyung spun around and pulled Jimin in even closer. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Park Jimin,” he intoned, sweeping him into a kiss that had Jimin’s toes curling and one leg kicking up involuntarily.

Once he’d been released from Taehyung’s hold, Jimin was certain that his cheeks would remain flushed for the rest of the day.

And as for Taehyung, the knowledge that no matter what happened on track, Jimin would still be by his side cheering him on, was more than enough to settle his rushing mind.

*****

The passion of the Brazilian crowd left Jeongguk quite breathless as he took in the sights and sounds of Saturday at Interlagos. This being his first visit as a Formula 1 driver, the experience was beyond his wildest expectations. The one thorn in his side was the crowd’s obvious preference for a certain Stallions driver… But Jeongguk could handle that. He’d just keep his head down and focus on the racing. Starting from pole today would certainly be a good way to kick things off.

“How are you feeling, Guk?” Yeonjun asked gently, his kind eyes full of concern.

Jeongguk should have known that he couldn’t hide anything from Yeonjun. With a wry smile, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not great, Jjunie. But then you already know that, don’t you?”

Yeonjun grimaced. “I’ve known you long enough to sense when you’re out of sorts,” he pointed out. “Maybe you should have a word with Hoseok?”

Jeongguk sat bolt upright as he remembered the way Hoseok’s words had carried him forward in the past. “Of course, Jjunie. You’re a star.” Getting out his phone, he dashed off a text asking Hoseok if he had some time. Hoseok had immediately responded in the affirmative and said he’d be there in ten minutes.

“Remember what I said a while back, Guk?” Hoseok asked once they were settled in Jeongguk’s driver room.

“What part, exactly? You do say a lot of things,” he teased.

Hoseok laughed. “Look, I can’t deny that. But specifically, I was thinking about what I said about Chwe. How you can’t be better than someone 100% of the time. That even drivers with a lower skill level than yours will have their days.”

“Ah, yes,” Jeongguk affirmed. “But correct me if I’m wrong. One can’t really level that criticism at Kim Taehyung.”

Hoseok grimaced. “Unfortunately, Kim Taehyung is one skilful bastard,” he grumbled. “One of the most extraordinary natural talents this sport has ever seen, and he finally seems to have figured out how to make it consistent.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Hoseok. What’s your point?” Jeongguk laughed.

“Look, Jeongguk, what I’m about to say might sound harsh, but I don’t mean it that way…”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “I’m not made of glass, you know. Just say it.”

Hoseok’s eyes shifted tentatively. “Uh. Well… maybe you need to look at the issue from the other side, in this instance,” he said carefully, checking Jeongguk’s face for clues. When his expression didn’t falter, Hoseok gathered his confidence and continued. “Even drivers with a lower skill level can have their days,” he repeated. “And in this instance, that driver is you.”

His eyes widening so much that Hoseok was momentarily worried they’d roll out of his face, Jeongguk began to laugh wholeheartedly. “Oh my God, Hoseok, you’re a genius!” Jeongguk crowed, wiping tears from his cheeks. “Even though Kim Taehyung is better than me, I can still beat him!”

“Now I’m not saying he’ll always be better than you, Guk. You are a rookie and he’s been fighting for the championship for several years now. But right now, his combination of skill and experience adds up to slightly more than yours does. As much as that might hurt to hear. But acknowledging it might just be the way forward, in your case,” Hoseok explained.

Jeongguk couldn’t lie to himself. Hoseok’s words carried a slight sting, in one sense. But in another, Jeongguk felt liberated. It really didn’t matter who was the better driver right now. What mattered was who managed to cross the line first. Simple as it may have sounded, the genius of Hoseok’s words lightened Jeongguk’s heart.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. As Jeongguk’s eyes rose to meet Hoseok’s concerned ones, he saw the moment that Hoseok realised he’d done the right thing, his concern melting away and being replaced by a sunny, heart-shaped smile.

“I’m so glad I was able to help, Guk,” Hoseok rushed out. “Now go out there and kick some Stallion ass!”

*****

“I know you’re excited. I know you want to make up some ground in the championship. Just remember that the race isn’t won at the first corner. But it can be lost there,” Jimin’s voice echoed in Taehyung’s mind as he waited for the lights to go out.  Simple advice, Something he’d heard a thousand times before. And yet, something about Jimin’s delivery of it lodged far deeper in Taehyung than anyone else had managed. Calmly, he moved away from the line, moving over to cover off Kim Seokjin at the first corner but leaving Jeon Jeongguk unchallenged. Taehyung was beginning to learn that sometimes going against the more volatile of his racer’s instincts was actually a better way of doing things. As wrong as it had initially seemed, the increased patience had been paying off. His crash in Mexico had happened because he allowed emotion to get the better of him – of course, there was a place for emotion in this sport, and a very important one at that – but as Jimin kept reminding him, it was all about balance.

Ten laps in and Seokjin was pondering the static nature of most sprint races. They were supposed to be exciting, with no mandatory pit stops and a shorter race distance to cover. And yet, again, nobody was really daring to make a move in case they had to live with the consequences later. With Grand Prix qualifying in a few hours and the main race tomorrow, it simply didn’t make sense to take too many risks. Even Kim Taehyung was sitting politely behind Jeongguk. Although Seokjin supposed that Taehyung had even more at stake, given his return from injury…

Jeongguk couldn’t help but feel as though something strange was going on. Kim Taehyung was right there, half a second behind him, and yet nothing in the body language of his car had even suggested he was going to overtake. Seventeen laps had been completed out of the twenty-four and Taehyung had done absolutely nothing but follow Jeongguk around the track. No wonder Jeongguk was beginning to feel uneasy.

“You all right Tae? How’s the shoulder?” Hyungsik asked gently.

“Fine. Everything feels normal,” Taehyung replied calmly.

Hyungsik and Jimin shared a glance that spoke volumes. They both knew him well enough to be intrigued by his calmness, given that he was sitting in second place.

“He’s gonna do something, isn’t he?” Hyungsik commented dryly to Jimin.

“Yeah. My bet is he’ll wait til the last lap and use the surprise factor to his advantage,” Jimin agreed.

“He’s getting clever and cleverer,” Hyungsik mused. “Perhaps that’s down to your influence?” he suggested, raising his eyebrows.

Jimin’s face crinkled into a self-deprecating grin. “Nah. He’s done it all himself. I’ve just guided him in the right direction a little bit. But let’s not count our chickens just yet,” he warned, one side of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

Lap 24. The final lap. Speeding over the start/finish line, a sense of incredible peace suffused Taehyung as time seemed to slow down and what he needed to do became perfectly clear. Late on the brakes, he followed Jeongguk so closely around Turn 1 that by the time they’d made it to Turn 2 his Stallion was fully alongside the Silver Bullet. Not only that, he had the inside line coming out of the corner. Calmly, smoothly, he accelerated and pulled his car effortlessly ahead. The move was done. Taehyung was leading the race.

Jeongguk had been so surprised to find a bright red Stallion alongside him that he hadn’t even managed to make an attempt at fighting back. By the time he’d realised that Taehyung had overtaken him, the Stallion had scampered off into the distance and Jeongguk knew the race was lost. With some bitterness, he acknowledged that today was not his day.

Seokjin, in third place, watched all this unfold with vague interest. He knew that Taehyung had some ground to make up in the championship. Taehyung would gain a few points back, today. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Unless some bizarre events happened tomorrow, Seokjin would carry the championship lead forward to the next race.

The Korean Grand Prix.

Seokjin’s dormant competitive edge flared brightly at the thought of his – their – home race. You have to finish this one before you can start thinking about the next, he reminded himself sharply.

As Taehyung crossed the line, his calm exploded into jubilation. He had done it! He’d not only come back from injury and been passed fit to race, but he’d won the Sprint!

“Great job, Taehyung! What an overtake!” Hyungsik yelled over the radio, his excitement feeling infectious.

“Oh my God, I did it!” Taehyung shouted. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! I won! I won the Sprint!”

Hyungsik laughed fondly. “You did, Tae, you did. You should see Jimin’s face right now,” he teased.

“Tell him I can’t wait to kiss it the moment I’m out of the car,” Taehyung replied, uncaring that his radio was being broadcast worldwide.

“I’ll tell him that, Tae,” Hyungsik agreed.

Hyungsik must have kept his word, because the moment Taehyung was out of the car he caught sight of a small blonde head pushing through the crowd of gathered team members.

“Jimin!” he cried.

“Taehyung!”

Bolting to the barriers, Taehyung whipped off his helmet and immediately wrapped Jimin in a tight embrace. “I did it, my love, I did it,” he whispered, leaning in to claim his kiss.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jimin murmured once their lips had reluctantly moved apart.

“While this is all very sweet and all, some of us are waiting for the podium ceremony to start,” Kim Seokjin drawled, sending Taehyung a cheeky wink.

“I’ll be back later,” Taehyung mouthed to Jimin as he wandered away.

He and His Majesty had congratulated each other while walking to the cool down room. But Jeon was acting rather strange, Taehyung noticed. When he’d gone to clap him on the back, Jeon had actually flinched. “Well done, Taehyung. You beat me again,” Jeon had said, laughing somewhat hollowly. Taehyung had been left feeling as though he should apologise. Jeon’s baby deer eyes had looked hurt, and Taehyung hadn’t particularly liked that… But he was a racing driver, and they weren’t in the habit of apologising for the simple act of beating each other on track. Taehyung knew he’d done nothing wrong. So why did it feel as though he had?

 “Guk?” Seokjin called gently as he knocked on his lover’s driver room door. “Can I come in?”

A muffled wail came from inside the room, compelling Seokjin to burst through the door. Jeongguk lay curled up on the sofa, tucked into the foetal position, his strong, muscular body appearing small and curiously vulnerable.

“Oh, Gukkie, what’s up with you?” Seokjin sighed meltingly, perching beside Jeongguk on the sofa and wrapping his arms around him as best he could. “Did losing the sprint affect you that badly?”

Jeongguk nodded, burying his face in Seokjin’s stomach.

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t wanna hear this, but losing races is part of what we do,” he soothed him, running his fingers gently through Jeongguk’s mussed-up hair.

“But it just seems so unfair,” Jeongguk mumbled, shrinking in on himself even further.

Seokjin exhaled. “Yeah. That’s because it is unfair. If you entered this sport thinking that things would always be fair, well, you’ve got some tough lessons to learn,” he said flatly. “But you’re strong, Guk. As well as unbelievably talented. You’re not even at your best yet and look at you,” he pointed out. “So Kim Taehyung beat you today. I’ll remind you that he beat me, too. That you beat me, as well. Does that make me a loser, hmm?”

“No way!” Jeongguk retorted, shaking his head vehemently. “You’re amazing, Jin. They don’t call you The King for no reason.”

“Be that as it may, I still lost today. To Taehyung and to you. But I’m not letting it get me down, you know why?”

Jeongguk looked up at him sceptically. “Because you’re a three-time World Champ and you’re currently in the championship lead?”

Seokjin laughed. “No. Although it’s nice to be reminded of all that, I’m not going to lie. But the reason I’m not letting it get me down is because we’re not done yet. Grand Prix qualifying is in two hours. We have a whole full-length race to drive, tomorrow. And four more race weekends after this one. The championship fight is so tight that we still don’t know who’s going to come out of it on top. Guk-ah, there is still so much to play for. So don’t take yourself out of the game too early, OK?”

Jeongguk’s arms fastened tightly around Seokjin’s waist and he buried his head tightly against his boyfriend’s stomach. “I love you, Jin,” he said warmly, his voice muffled by the fabric of Seokjin’s team polo. “Thank you for not giving up on me when I’m stupid like this.”

The lurch that Seokjin’s heart gave would have knocked him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting down. “Guk, I won’t ever give up on you. So don’t you worry about silly things like that. Now are you going to come here and kiss me, or what?”

The press of pretty, pouty, slim lips against his pillowy ones had Seokjin smiling into the kiss, his heart filling with the rich, golden light of being well loved and knowing it.

*****

Taehyung’s exultation at winning the sprint had swept the entire team into a wave of celebration, but they couldn’t get too carried away, when not even half the job was done. Still, Taehyung had managed to sneak Jimin away for a quiet half hour together in his driver room. Jimin had, of course, checked out his shoulder despite Taehyung’s protestations that it was fine. Once he was satisfied, he’d allowed Taehyung to wrap him in a tender embrace and lay them both down on the sofa. Words had been scarce, their preferred method of communication being gentle caresses, kisses and soft sighs. When Hyungsik knocked on the door to let Taehyung know it was time to prepare for qualifying, Jimin couldn’t help the lurch of disappointment that rocked through his body. He has to do his job, Jimin reminded himself. And it’s your job to make sure he does it well. Although Taehyung had exceeded everyone’s expectations by winning the sprint, Jimin still couldn’t shake the traces of niggling doubt that dogged the edges of his mind. He supposed the only cure for that would be time. As Taehyung left one last, succulent kiss on his mouth, Jimin swallowed down the yearning that clung to him as his boyfriend strode purposefully into the thrum of the busy garage. After running a hand through his hair and regulating his breathing somewhat, Jimin followed him out. Just as he was about to take his usual seat next to Hyungsik, he was accosted by the boss.

“Jimin, a word?” Park Seojoon asked quietly, startling Jimin out of his trance.

Shaking himself back into consciousness, Jimin rearranged his face into a pleasant smile. “Of course! Do you want to talk here, or…?”

“Possibly best you join me in my office,” the team principal replied, brusque but not unkind.

Jimin worriedly followed Seojoon’s tall, broad figure into his office, closing the door behind him. The moment Seojoon sat behind his desk, he nervously pushed his hand through his hair. “Jimin, I have to know. How is Taehyung’s mental state? Is he all right? Or do you think he’s heading for another crash like in Mexico?” Seojoon blurted out, his large, handsome features scrunched in concern.

Jimin couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “Seojoon, I thought you were going to fire me or something.”

Seojoon raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Now, we both know that would be stupid. Not only are you the best performance coach out there, I’m not about to piss off my top driver by firing his boyfriend,” Seojoon quipped. “Sorry to have worried you, Jimin. I’m just concerned about Taehyung…” He trailed off, his eyes fixing on a point far into the distance.

Struggling to find the right words, Jimin steepled his fingers and scrunched his feet into the floor. He let out a small  huff. “Well, Seojoon, the thing is… I’m not certain,” he admitted. Breathlessly, he continued. “He seems pretty grounded, but I can’t say I’m completely sure. I’m also well aware that it might be my own stuff getting in the way,” Jimin added, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “I think we just have to let him get on with it, this weekend, as hard as that may be.”

Seojoon sighed. “I think you’re right, Jimin. Taehyung is by far the most complicated driver I’ve ever worked with. But he’s also by far the most extraordinary. So I guess that’s a fair trade-off, hmm?” The team principal smiled warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling into crows’ feet that only served to highlight his handsomeness.  

Jimin smiled wryly. “We’re just going to have to trust him.”

“I will if you will,” Seojoon bantered, his warm smile turning into a hearty grin.

“Deal,” Jimin agreed, holding out his hand for Seojoon to shake.

*****

While Kim Seokjin was delivering a hot lap, there was room for nothing else in his mind and heart except the job he was there to do. But the moment he crossed the line and took the car into cool-down, Jeongguk’s face flashed into his mind. Specifically, the crestfallen look that had been on it a few hours earlier after Kim Taehyung had beaten him in the sprint. Jeongguk had taken it much harder than Seokjin had expected. For all of his boyfriend’s bravado, Seokjin sometimes found it difficult to remember that he was a rookie – and a relatively inexperienced one, at that. Watching Jeongguk in action, with his effortless speed and control, it was easy to forget that he hadn’t been through the many long years of slugging it out in karts that the rest of them had endured, being pitted against each other from a ludicrously young age. It struck Seokjin that not winning was easier when one had grown used to it, somehow. Even he, The King, had lost his fair share of races. Jeongguk simply hadn’t been afforded that luxury, and the wounds were clear to see.

“That’s P2, Jin. P2,” Yoongi let him know. “One-tenth down on Jeongguk. Kim Taehyung yet to put in a lap.”

Good job, Gukkie, he thought to himself. Though there were still two qualifying segments to get through, Seokjin felt confident that he could predict who would occupy the top three positions. The order, however, not so much.

“Great lap, Tae. That’s P1 at the end of Q2. Good position to be in,” Hyungsik finished his radio message and looked over at a beaming Jimin.

“He’s on fire, today,” Jimin murmured proudly.

“It’s unbelievable,” Hyungsik admitted. “His consistency just keeps improving. I thought after coming back from injury it would take him a bit of time to bed back in, but no. Whatever’s going on with him, long may it continue,” he grinned, patting Jimin on the shoulder.

Thinking back to his conversation with Seojoon, less than an hour before, Jimin allowed himself to relax just a little.

When Qualifying 3 began a few minutes later, the mood in the Silver Bullets garage was muted. As it often was, when one or both of their drivers was potentially in line for pole position. After the first hot laps, it was Seokjin at the top of the timesheets, with Jeongguk trailing him by half a tenth. Kim Taehyung had slotted in just behind Jeongguk, and then there was a sizeable gap to the MacPhersons and Vernon Chwe, who looked like they’d be fighting it out for fourth to sixth positions on the grid.

“All right, Guk. We’re ready for that final hot lap,” Yeonjun called over the radio.

A surge of sheer adrenaline almost pinned Jeongguk to his seat as he crossed the line to start his lap. It didn’t matter to him that it was his first time here at Interlagos. In that moment, it also no longer mattered that Kim Taehyung had beaten him to the sprint victory. The only thing on Jeongguk’s mind was completing the best possible lap of this track that he was growing to adore. As he hit Turn 6 and the most technical section of the track expanded before him, the adrenaline abated somewhat and all Jeongguk felt was a calm certainty that this was the lap, that all his self-belief would not be in vain. As he crossed the line, knowing he’d done the best job he was physically capable of doing, Jeongguk allowed himself a small smile. Beat that, Kim Taehyung, he thought to himself smugly. So certain of his superiority, Jeongguk didn’t even glance at the trackside screens as he eased off into his cool down lap.

Seokjin knew he hadn’t snagged pole position. His lap simply wasn’t tidy enough. With all his experience, Seokjin usually knew when he had it and when he didn’t. Glancing at the screens, he made out his name in third position. That was probably fair. Scanning upwards, his heart clenched.

I fucking love this place, Taehyung thought to himself as he sailed around the final bend and engaged the throttle to surge toward the line. He knew that lap had been special. Every turn had flowed seamlessly into the next, his concentration flawless as the car had seemed like an extension of himself. Only once he was almost back at Turn 6 on his cool down lap, was Taehyung able to spare the brain space to wonder where that spectacular lap had put him in the qualifying order.

“Hyungsikkie?” he asked tentatively. “How’d we go?”

A pause. Taehyung thought he could hear the muffled sound of celebrations coming from the garage. “Is this thing on?” a sweet, dearly familiar voice asked.

“Jimin?!”

“Hi, Tae,” Jimin giggled. “Hyungsik wanted me to tell you. That’s pole position, baby! Nobody else stood a chance,” Jimin told him, pride bursting through the radio.

Taehyung felt his eyes fill with tears. Not only had he snatched the sprint victory from second place, but he’d managed to put it on pole at his favourite track, less than two weeks after injuring his shoulder. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow’s race. And after that… “You’d better be ready for tomorrow night,” he drawled darkly, hoping the broadcasters would decide not to air that particular snippet of team radio.

“Worry about that after the race tomorrow,” Jimin replied blithely. “Now get yourself back here so I can give you a congratulatory kiss.”

*****

Seokjin’s eyes darted across to Jeongguk, sitting on the other side of Taehyung for the top three drivers’ press conference. There was something distinctly off about Jeongguk’s energy. He’d barely been able to smile when he’d gotten out of the car, and had flinched away from Seokjin’s touch. He’d only been trying to give him a pat on the back, for goodness’ sake. Seokjin couldn’t help but worry that Jeongguk was taking things far too hard, again. And truthfully, he knew there was nothing he could say or do to get through to the younger driver, no matter how close their relationship. Sometimes love isn’t enough, Seokjin remembered sharply. Some things had to be felt and experienced alone.

“Jeongguk, it must have hurt to lose the sprint to the same person who just pipped you to pole position. What are you planning to do to fix the situation tomorrow?” a reporter asked.

Seokjin stiffened at the glare Jeongguk sent toward the man.

“What I always do. I’m going to drive fast,” Jeongguk replied flippantly.

“But what I mean is-“

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jeongguk snapped back, half-rising from his seat. “We’ll see what happens tomorrow and that’s all there is to it.”

The room fell silent. Seokjin let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He noticed that Taehyung was frantically trying to catch his eye and wondered how long that had been happening.

“Is he OK?” Taehyung mouthed as surreptitiously as possible with a bunch of cameras pointed at them.

Seokjin could only give a tiny shrug. Taehyung’s forehead creased in obvious concern.

The rest of the press conference was navigated without any further outbursts. Seokjin attempted to catch up with Jeongguk on the way back to the garage, but his teammate had shoved his earbuds in. Either he didn’t notice Seokjin trying to get his attention, or he was pretending he hadn’t. Whichever the case, Seokjin realised it was best to leave well enough alone.

*****

“You seem more tense than usual,” Jimin murmured as he massaged Taehyung’s back with long, slow strokes. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

Taehyung groaned. “I know it shouldn’t bother me, but…” He trailed off with a heavy sigh.

“Tae, sweetheart, if it bothers you, it bothers you. There’s no ‘should’ about it,” Jimin reminded him gently.

“I know, I know,” Taehyung acknowledged. “It’s just… I’m worried about Jeon. He’s acting really strange.”

Jimin let out a snort. “Since when did you care so much about the mental state of your competitors?”

Taehyung huffed out a quick laugh. “For some reason, since today. Jeon seems to have taken it really hard that I not only took the sprint win but also the Grand Prix pole. He wouldn’t even acknowledge Seokjin after the press conference, which tells me that he’s in a really poor state. I know I should just let things happen, and capitalise on the advantage this might give me tomorrow. But I don’t like to see the kid hurting,” Taehyung admitted, his soft brown eyes filled with concern.

Jimin couldn’t resist the intense urge to lean down and hug him, the warmth of Taehyung’s skin seeping into his own, the subtle, clean scent of him creeping into his nostrils. “Who knew you were such a softie, Kim Taehyung?” he teased, leaving a juicy kiss on Taehyung’s cheek before getting up to resume the massage.

*****

“Hoseok-ah, do you have a few minutes?” Seokjin’s voice, strained and thin-sounding, blared through the tinny phone speaker.

All I have is time, these days, Hoseok thought to himself. “Sure, Jin,” he said amiably. “What’s up?”

Seokjin’s sigh seemed to carry the weight of the universe. “It’s Guk,” he began tentatively. “He’s not in a good way…”

Hoseok’s heart sank. He’d really believed that his words had gotten through to Jeongguk earlier. And yet, being beaten not only to the sprint win but to Grand Prix pole by the same driver was bound to sting. “Is he with you?” he asked.

“No,” Seokjin replied. “He wouldn’t give me the time of day after the press conference.”

Hoseok let out a heavy breath. “I’ll call him,” he assured Seokjin before ending the call.

Ten minutes and seven calls to Jeongguk’s number later, Hoseok still hadn’t managed to get a response. Normally, what he’d do in a situation like this was call the boss.

The boss being Namjoon.

Hoseok would rather eat his own fist than call Namjoon right now. He hadn’t expected his heart to throb quite so painfully when he’d run into Namjoon and Yoongi on their date. But the ache had persisted deep into the night until eventually, he’d downed a bottle of soju to help himself sleep. Hoseok knew he’d made a major fuck up by two-timing them, and yet part of him still felt as though he’d had no other choice. The pull he felt toward both Namjoon and Yoongi had been undeniable in a way that refused to be ignored. He really hadn’t wanted to play with fire the way he did – and part of him still believed that he was, somehow, a victim in all of this. How could he help falling in love with two people at the same time? It wasn’t as if he chose to do so… In the past, Hoseok had flitted from one relationship to the next with little care for the destruction he was leaving behind him. This had been the biggest disaster he’d left in his wake, and yet, it had been because his intentions were mostly good. With a wry smile, he shook his head and realised that no matter which way he looked at it, he really had irredeemably messed up.

But he still had to work with Namjoon and Yoongi. And Namjoon really needed to know what was going on with his spectacularly gifted rookie. Hoseok wasn’t certain that Seokjin would put Namjoon in the loop, so there was no choice – he had to do it. Gritting his teeth, he pressed the call icon on Namjoon’s contact.

The phone rang only once before Namjoon snatched it up.

“Hoseok?”

“Uh. Hi, Namjoon.”

“What’s up?” Namjoon’s voice was sharp and clipped.

Not unexpected, Hoseok mused. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s about Jeongguk.”

“Oh?” Namjoon’s voice softened dramatically.

“Yeah,” Hoseok sighed. “We had a chat earlier today about his mental state, which wasn’t great. And that was before the sprint race,” he pointed out. “Jin says that Guk wouldn’t even give him the time of day after the press conference. Which really worries me, to be honest.”

“Hmm,” Namjoon hummed. “Do you think there’s anything we can do, or should we just sit back and see how things pan out? Look, I know we’ve had our differences, Hoseok, but I trust you implicitly when it comes to the welfare of my drivers.”

Hearing Namjoon say something, anything complimentary was like offering water to a stranded man in the desert. Hoseok soaked it up, feeling pathetically grateful as he basked in Namjoon’s words. I may have fucked up my love life, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to fuck up my job as well, he thought sharply. “I really don’t know if there’s anything we can do,” he admitted quietly. “I think Guk needs to figure all this out for himself. But Namjoon, I just wanted to make sure you knew about this,” he added. “I wouldn’t have felt right if you didn’t.”

“Oh,” Namjoon uttered, surprised. “Um. Thank you, Hoseok. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Look, I’ve gotta go…”

“Of course. Don’t let me keep you,” Hoseok rushed to say.

“But… thanks. I’m glad you called me.”

Namjoon hung up. And yet, his final words stayed with Hoseok as he ate a solitary dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. Even beyond that, as he drifted off to sleep in his too-big, lonely hotel bed alone.

*****

Jimin’s heart gave a funny little jump as he walked into the circuit on race day, Taehyung firmly at his side. Looking unbelievably suave in tight black jeans, a fitted tank top and a loose knitted cardigan, the ensemble was topped off perfectly by a pair of sunglasses so outlandish that nobody except Kim Taehyung would have been capable of pulling them off. Admittedly, Jimin felt rather dowdy in his team-issue uniform (although Taehyung had repeatedly assured him that nobody made it look quite as good as Jimin did) and cursed the fact that while drivers were offered as much leeway as they wanted when it came to attire, team personnel had to abide by the rules.  As the crowd went totally ballistic at the sight of their favourite driver, Jimin’s heart stopped jumping and began swelling with pride. Taehyung was so loved. It wasn’t just his phenomenal looks and superlative skill that had people falling for him – rather, it was the way he left his heart out on the track every time he raced. His emotional honesty struck straight to the core of those who called themselves his supporters. Once you became a fan of Kim Taehyung, you were a fan for life. And once you fall in love with Kim Taehyung, what then? Jimin found himself pondering.

“Beije-o! Beije-o!” the crowd began to chant.

Jimin’s Portuguese was practically nonexistent, but Taehyung had taken it upon himself to learn a few words. Given the devotion of the fans there, it seemed only fair.

“What are they saying?” Jimin murmured.

“They’re asking me to kiss you,” Taehyung replied cheekily.

Jimin’s cheeks immediately turned rosy. “Oh,” he uttered, unsure what to say. It was one thing kissing Taehyung in the heat of the moment after a podium or a pole position. But this was an entirely different situation. Jimin wasn’t nearly as used to being in the public eye as Taehyung. It was all very new to him.

“Should we give them a show?” Taehyung smirked. “I’m game if you are.”

Standing there, with the chants of the crowd filling his ears, Jimin was suddenly filled with a burst of bravery. This sort of thing didn’t have to be scary, he realised, because he was doing it all with Taehyung. His boyfriend’s beautiful face was right there, a tender smile gracing his lips. Any resistance Jimin may have had melted like butter on warm toast.

“How do I say it in Portuguese?” Jimin asked cheekily.

“Beije-me,” Taehyung replied. “Kiss me.”

Rolling the unfamiliar sounds around his mouth, Jimin reached forward and plucked Taehyung’s sunglasses off his nose. “Beije-me,” he demanded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Taehyung stepped forward, intent flashing in his warm brown eyes. Placing a hand on the small of Jimin’s back, he pulled their bodies flush, gazing fondly into his eyes. With the other hand, he traced a gentle caress over Jimin’s cheek and jaw, exhaling quietly as he did so. As Taehyung leaned in and softly, tantalisingly captured his lips in the sweetest of kisses, Jimin felt his soul sigh and his knees buckle just a little. But Taehyung was there to catch him, as always, his big hand tightening on Jimin’s back and the other one falling to his waist to keep him steady.

“Você é o amor da minha vida e eu vou ser seu para sempre,” Taehyung murmured into Jimin’s ear as the crowd cheered in satisfaction at what they’d just witnessed.

Jimin was far too flustered to ask Taehyung what that meant. Instead, he straightened himself up and tugged on Taehyung’s hand as he strode off in the direction of the Stallions garage. He failed to notice the dreamy, knowing look on Taehyung’s face as he followed close behind.

*****

Jeongguk pushed his hair back from his face as he reached his driver room, closing the door firmly behind him. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since the previous day. Ignoring all phone calls and messages, he’d stayed in his own cocoon of thoughts until sleep had finally claimed him. He’d woken early and abruptly, his blood pulsing in his ears and his breath coming fast. Jeongguk had felt a moment’s regret at having ignored Seokjin the day before. Deep inside himself he knew that what he really needed was to be held. And yet, he’d denied himself that opportunity to prove a point. What point, exactly?

Oh. That he was mature and self-sufficient. That was the point. And now that he’d started down that track, he didn’t feel as though he could deviate from it. At least, not before the Grand Prix, anyway. He longed to burst out of his driver room and run to Seokjin, to feel his boyfriend’s arms close around him in the way that made him feel so safe and loved.

But he wouldn’t. Not now. Maybe later, if it felt like the right thing to do.

Seokjin’s skin prickled as he saw Jeongguk walk into his own side of the garage to prepare for the race. He knew full well that he had to put his emotions aside – hell, it wasn’t so long ago he’d been raging at Jeongguk for allowing his emotions to show, thinking there was no place for them in racing – because in the car, he was a racer, not a lover. A multiple World Champion at that. He could only hope that Jeongguk was in a better place, mentally, than he had been the previous day. Sighing as he put his helmet on, Seokjin knew he had absolutely no choice but to trust that he was. And hope that if he wasn’t, he didn’t do anything stupid…

Smooth, unruffled, almost eerily calm, Taehyung replayed Jimin’s earlier visualisation exercise in his mind as he slowly wound his Stallion around the formation lap. In his driver room before the team had called him to get ready, Jimin had kissed him with searing passion and made him promise to be careful. The problem was, Kim Taehyung didn’t know how to be careful. If he saw a gap, he would go for it. If someone happened to be ahead of him and they made a mistake, he’d capitalise on it. If he could go quicker and snag the fastest lap, he would. That was the simple truth of it. Wriggling his shoulder, Taehyung was pleased to note that no stiffness seemed to remain from yesterday’s onslaught of sprint race and qualifying. But a 71-lap Grand Prix was quite another story. Slowing his car and coming to rest in the pole position box, Taehyung briefly closed his eyes and sent a wish to the universe that he would manage to get through today.

As the five lights went on, and then off again, Taehyung felt as though he moved in slow motion. Jeon Jeongguk’s Silver Bullet pulled alongside him in the first corner but Taehyung managed to hold him off. Halfway around the first lap, Jeon was still right on his ass and Taehyung was beginning to get annoyed.

“Keep it cool, Tae, it’s a long race ahead,” Hyungsik reminded him.

“Gotcha, Hyungsikkie,” Taehyung replied, taking his engineer’s words to heart and breathing just a little easier.

By the time they’d reached Lap 36, the inside of Jeon Jeongguk’s helmet housed a storm of epic proportions. He’d thrown absolutely everything in his toolbox at Kim Taehyung and still the Stallions driver remained ahead of him by the maddening margin of 0.9 seconds. Just enough for Jeongguk to stay within the drag reduction system’s activation zone, and just too much for the system’s advantage to genuinely help him make an overtake.

“Fuck Kim Taehyung!” he’d yelled, over and over again, making sure that his radio button wasn’t held down at the time. When was this fucker going to make a mistake? Even Seokjin himself hadn’t been quite so difficult to overtake, Jeongguk found himself thinking. He tried desperately to remind himself of Hoseok’s sage advice. And yet, it was simply a fact that Kim Taehyung was the better driver today, and there was absolutely nothing Jeongguk could do about it. The dream of winning the drivers’ championship in his first year, the one he hadn’t even allowed himself to utter out loud, was fading away into the ether. Jeongguk had known it was vanishingly unlikely. And yet, the part of him that believed in fairytales was still desperately holding on to the tiniest thread of hope.

Seokjin, in a comfortable third place, was far enough back from Jeongguk that he knew something unexpected had to happen to his teammate in order for him to snatch second place. And yet, he was still close enough to notice the erratic body language of Jeongguk’s car as he ducked and weaved around behind Kim Taehyung. He’s wasting his tyres and his mental energy, Seokjin thought idly. It certainly wasn’t the way he would have done things, had he been in Jeongguk’s shoes. But it was a testament to how much Kim Seokjin had changed that his next thought was that Jeongguk was a smart man and a superlative driver, and maybe he should do things his own way. It was liberating to realise that one didn’t have to be right all the time, Seokjin thought to himself with amusement.

Taehyung’s calm persisted in the face of Jeongguk’s nightmarishly consistent attack. It felt as though he had a forcefield around himself that nothing could permeate – not even a riled-up, hyper talented rookie with a grudge. Still, Taehyung didn’t allow himself to celebrate the win until he’d looked up at the screens on his victory lap to see his face and the words Kim Taehyung – Winner emblazoned on the worldwide broadcast feed.

“Taehyung! Oh my GOD! You won!!” Jimin’s voice came flooding into his cockpit. Hyungsik had clearly abdicated in favour of Jimin, given the circumstances. “I am so, so proud of you! How is your shoulder?”

Taehyung laughed heartily. “Can’t even feel it. Do I have a shoulder?” he quipped. “Holy shit, you guys. We did it! A double victory for the Stallions team.”

“A double victory for you, Kim Taehyung,” Park Seojoon’s voice boomed. “You are a superstar! I’m so glad I chased you down until you agreed to drive for me,” he admitted breathlessly. “Best decision I ever made as a team boss.”

“Good job, Guk. That’s P2,” Yeonjun said calmly, knowing that Jeongguk probably didn’t want to hear it.

“Thanks, Jjunie,” he replied, his voice curiously flat. “At least it’s over with.”

Jeongguk’s anger had moved aside, replaced by a wash of utter futility. This was the first time since he’d started racing that he wasn’t clearly the best driver in the series. Of course, he’d known that intellectually. But the actuality of it was far more painful than Jeongguk had expected. Rationally, he knew that he still had time. That nobody expected him to be at his very best in his rookie season. But Jeongguk was too used to being extraordinary to be able to sit comfortably with where he was at the moment. A pang of longing rumbled up from his gut as he understood the full extent of his coldness toward Seokjin. Suddenly, the thing he wanted most in the world was for his Jin to engulf him in his arms and tell him it everything would be all right. Even if he was lying, it didn’t matter. Jeongguk desperately needed to hear it.

“Decent P3, Jin,” Yoongi confirmed. “Good drive today.”

“Thanks, Yoongi. I think I got the most out of what I had, at least,” Seokjin said calmly. “Good result for the team, too.”

“Might as well put one hand on the constructor’s championship trophy already,” Yoongi quipped. “Nobody’s getting near us, what with the two of you constantly on the podium.”

Indeed, the Silver Bullets’ consistency was admirable. Kim Taehyung might be a major threat for the driver’s championship – especially given that he’d gained another eleven points on Seokjin today, putting him only a handful of points behind, with Jeongguk another handful behind Taehyung. But most of the weight of the Stallions team was resting on his injured shoulders. Chwe wasn’t a bad driver, that much was true, but he wasn’t in Taehyung’s league. As driver lineups went, Kim and Jeon was definitely the strongest on the grid. Seokjin couldn’t help but wonder whether that strength extended into other things. He didn’t like to admit it to himself, but he’d been hurt by Jeongguk’s callousness. Having become so used to his presence, Seokjin had spent the previous evening feeling pitifully lonely. This is what love does to a person. No wonder I avoided it for so long, he thought darkly. And still, Seokjin hoped that Jeongguk would come to him. He wouldn’t push… No, he respected his boyfriend far too much for that. The age difference between them was significant enough for Seokjin to be mindful of treating Jeongguk like a child. At twenty-seven, he was a mature man, and most of the time he acted like one. Seokjin had often mused that he could learn a thing or two from Jeongguk in the maturity stakes. But we all have our days, Seokjin thought wryly as he pulled his car into the third place spot.

The first thing Seokjin did after getting out of the car was to jog over to Kim Taehyung and pat him gently on the shoulder. “Looks like this held up,” he grinned warmly. “Congratulations, Tae.”

“Thanks, Jin,” Taehyung beamed. “I might regret it tomorrow, but right now, I couldn’t care less, you know?”

Seokjin knew. All too well, in fact. Instead of bitter competition, he felt an odd sense of… pride? Was that what this was? He was proud of Kim Taehyung, his longest-standing nemesis, because he’d won in difficult circumstances – and was closing in on Seokjin’s own championship lead?

If it hadn’t been so unequivocally true, Seokjin wouldn’t have believed it.

Standing on the top step of the podium as the end of the Korean national anthem segued into the Italian, Taehyung’s eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. He’d really worked his way back from injury and done the double at a track that felt almost like home. And with the Korean Grand Prix next weekend, Taehyung hoped he could continue to ride that wave. But he was only able to focus on that briefly. The moment he caught Jimin’s eye where he stood at the front of the Stallions delegation, Taehyung’s heart swelled with honey-sweet emotion. Though he’d known he was in love with Jimin before they officially got together, their close working relationship giving him ample opportunity to fall, those feelings paled in comparison the strength they exuded today. “Você é o amor da minha vida e eu vou ser seu para sempre”, were the words he’d said to Jimin when they arrived at the track some hours earlier. You are the love of my life, and I am yours forever. And Taehyung had meant them, from the deepest parts of his soul. For so many years he’d been a playboy, flitting from one unsatisfying relationship to another and never allowing himself to even think those words, let alone say them. In Portuguese, at that! And while Taehyung had spent the last two weeks cheekily reminding Jimin of the carnal delights he had in store for him later that night, a tingle of excitement sparking in his gut at the very thought, his craving for what would happen afterwards was even more powerful. After the crashing waves of passion had receded and they lay spent and sweaty in each other’s arms, they would talk. And talk, and talk. Taehyung had never known anyone as fascinating as Jimin, had never listened so intently to a person speak. Simply being in Jimin’s presence was more than enough to make him happy. Once the champagne was sprayed and the post-race interviews satisfactorily concluded, Taehyung practically sprinted back to the team motorhome to meet with his heart’s desire.

Jimin sat casually in the café area, idly sipping a violently green smoothie and picking at a Caesar salad. The moment Taehyung came into view, he dropped his fork into the bowl and ran toward him. When Taehyung opened his arms, encouraging Jimin to jump into them, he had a moment’s trepidation over the state of Taehyung’s shoulder. And yet, his body made the decision for him, and before he knew it he was leaping into the air and being caught perfectly by his love.

“My superstar,” Jimin breathed in between peppering butterfly kisses all over Taehyung’s face.

“My inspiration,” Taehyung replied. Sighing happily, he kissed Jimin long, slow, and deep, uncaring of the hundreds of eyes on them. What did it matter, anyway?

*****

Sprawled out on the sofa in his suite, Seokjin had just closed his eyes when a knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. Groaning at the interruption, he grumpily pulled himself up and shuffled to the door. Fixing a glare on his face, he threw it open.

Only to find a contrite-looking Jeongguk on the other side.

“Can I come in?” Jeongguk asked, chewing his lip nervously.

Seokjin fought the urge to reach out and pull it away from his teeth.

“Sure,” he sighed. Standing aside, he allowed Jeongguk into the room.

The moment he’d sat down on the sofa, Jeongguk’s eyes had filled with sadness. “I’m sorry, Jin. I acted like a fool,” he admitted, meeting Seokjin’s eyes with candour so raw it almost stole the elder’s breath.

Having spent so many years cultivating a hard outer shell, Seokjin was tired of pretending. His heart swelled with fondness and he couldn’t stop it from melting into his facial expression. “Guk-ah. It’s OK. Sure, I was pretty upset that you blanked me yesterday, I won’t lie about that.” 

Jeongguk’s face fell, but Seokjin reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“But you don’t need to worry. I know this is tough. It’s not helped at all by the fact that this is your first time having to deal with it, huh?”

Jeongguk nodded and squeezed Seokjin’s hand even tighter. “I feel like I should know how to deal with all of this,” he muttered.

Seokjin cast him a sharp look. “How exactly are you supposed to know how to do something you’ve never done before? Jeongguk, you are an extraordinary human being. That much is certain. But you are still a human being. Do you think you could shine a little kindness on yourself, maybe?”

“But I lost both races this weekend-“

“And so did I!” Seokjin cut him off. “I will say this again. Just because we didn’t win, it doesn’t make us in any way unworthy. And the sooner you get that through that thick skull of yours, the sooner you’ll be much happier. Look, I won’t lie to you – it took me some time, too. Starting out in a Wilkins when they were still a backmarker team meant that I had to eat a whole bunch of humble pie before I started getting the results I knew I deserved. But do you think that stopped me?”

“No,” Jeongguk acquiesced. “I remember watching you. I knew you had something special from the start,” he acknowledged.

“See?” Seokjin reiterated. “The reason I am where I am today is because I have a core of the highest grade tempered steel, forged in the fires of defeat,” Seokjin explained. “You don’t get anywhere in this sport without that. No matter how good you may be at driving a car.”

Jeongguk regarded him with scepticism. “How do I fast-track that process, then?”

Seokjin couldn’t help but laugh. “Guk, there is no fast-track. Unlike every other aspect of your life and career up to this point, this will only come with experience,” he said gently.

The heavy sigh Jeongguk let out pulled Seokjin’s heartstrings tight. “So I just… have to keep feeling like this?” he murmured pitifully, his huge eyes filled with uncertainty.

Seokjin privately thought that Jeongguk had never resembled Bambi quite as much as in that moment. “Can I hug you?” he asked, his words almost cut short by the effect of a muscular body barrelling into his own. Circling his arms tightly around Jeongguk’s midsection, Seokjin glanced up to meet his eyes. “I just wish you could be kinder to yourself throughout the process. Heck, I wish I could take away the pain for you. That won’t – and can’t – happen. But I hope you know that through it all, you’re worth everything to me,” he murmured.

Jeongguk’s expression faltered a little. “You really mean that, Jin?” he whispered, scarcely allowing himself to believe it.

“Of course,” Seokjin grinned. “I love you, Jeongguk. And I’ll be here beside you through the whole process, OK?”

“Well maybe it won’t be quite so bad,” Jeongguk murmured, his words muffled as he buried his face in Seokjin’s neck.

Another tendril of Seokjin’s hold on his racing career broke free of its restraints. He was veering dangerously close to becoming unmoored altogether.

*****

A near-unbearable ache of thick, syrupy pleasure blossomed in the pit of Taehyung’s stomach as he thrust into Jimin, slow and deep. They’d barely made it back to the hotel, such was the urgency of their coupling. And yet, now that they were finally joined together, the tempo had slowed to a frighteningly intense adagio. Seated on the sofa, Taehyung’s feet were planted on the floor as Jimin perched on his lap, his legs spread wide giving him purchase on either side of Taehyung’s thighs, with Taehyung’s hands clinging possessively to Jimin’s abdomen as he fucked into him from behind. Jimin’s head lolled back on to Taehyung’s shoulder, his mouth slack and drooling as they continued their glacial grind. Taehyung’s mouth found the curve of Jimin’s ear, gently nipping and mouthing at it as one hand slithered over taut abs, down and down until soft curls gave way underneath his fingers and his hand wrapped firmly around the base of Jimin’s rose-tipped cock. Something splintered inside Taehyung as Jimin moaned his name, rocking restlessly back on to him, the soft velvet of his walls so perfectly tight and warm. I could die happy right now, the thought flitted across Taehyung’s mind. For him, sex had always been just sex. No big deal. Just an itch to scratch, a basic human need that thankfully, lots of willing people were happy to help him fulfil. He’d never really given it that much thought.

Until Jimin.

With Jimin, it was a monumental event, a life force. A communion of souls that transcended the mere physical. Making love with Jimin was an act of worship, something far greater than the itch he’d previously likened it to. Hearing Jimin’s breath hitch, catching on a sequence of hiccupped gasps, his thighs squeezing around Taehyung’s as pleasure wracked his body, had Taehyung starting to believe in the existence of the divine. Watching him slowly fall apart around him as Taehyung angled his thrusts just so, unable to keep his hands from exploring acres of soft skin, fingers sliding over pebbled nipples and swiping over the head of his leaking cock. And finally, when Jimin seized up, crying out Taehyung’s name as he reached his peak, clenching rhythmically around Taehyung’s cock as his own spurted out jets of sticky white cum that pooled in the dips and curves of his stomach, Taehyung felt as though he’d seen the face of God as he was unable to do anything but follow Jimin right over the edge. Vision whiting out, a drawn-out moan fell from his lips as he unloaded inside Jimin, his eyes screwing shut as his head fell forward on to the back of Jimin’s neck and he clutched his lover’s body closer than close. Panting heavily, Taehyung nuzzled his nose and lips on Jimin’s nape as the sound of heavy breaths filled the room, cutting through the fug of sweat and musk. “Jimin,” he whispered tenderly as his orgasm ebbed away, despite his attempts to hold on to it for just a little longer.

Jimin’s hand crept its way into Taehyung’s, interlocking their fingers tightly. “Taehyung,” he murmured, eyes falling closed, his voice cracked and raw from pleasure.

“I should move,” Taehyung mumbled, his body heavy where it leaned on Jimin’s.

“Don’t,” Jimin responded quickly. “Stay right here, just for now.”

Taehyung didn’t need a mirror to know that his face had creased into a dopey smile of pure, sweet happiness. “OK,” he replied, leaning his head back to rest on the sofa and bringing Jimin back with him. The slight shift had them both whimpering from oversensitivity, but it felt so good that neither of them wanted it to end. Idly, Taehyung’s free hand caressed Jimin’s skin, feeling goosebumps rise as he trailed over the tender skin of his side.

Jimin let out a sigh of sheer bliss. “You happy, now?” he asked cheekily. “Finally got to do what you’ve been promising.”

Taehyung snort-laughed. “It’s sweet that you think I’m in any way done with you,” he retorted.

Jimin’s spent cock gave a weak twitch, the resulting muscular contraction making Taehyung laugh again. “Ahh, come on. Give me five minutes,” Taehyung begged, playing it right up.

“Or you could let me fuck you this time,” Jimin drawled innocently. Despite the intensity of the orgasm he’d just had, his cock was already stirring back into life.

“You say that like it would be a hardship,” Taehyung scoffed. “I would be honoured to have you fuck me.”

"Can we do it in the bed, this round?” Jimin asked cheekily.

 “As you’re the one doing the fucking, you get to choose the location,” Taehyung replied matter-of-factly.

In the next moment, Jimin was lifting himself free of Taehyung’s cock. Both of them winced as a viscous mixture of lube and cum dribbled out of Jimin’s slightly gaping hole. With a shudder, Jimin stood up and held out a hand, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. “Come on, Tae. Let’s get cleaned up a little. Given I intend to have my mouth all over you, I think it’s only fair.”

The nighttime hours passed in a heady fog of desire. No sooner had they come down from one peak than they were already reaching for each other once more, their desire to be at one seemingly incapable of being satiated. When the sun began peeking through the gap in the curtains they hadn’t quite managed to close in their haste to get a taste of each other, Taehyung gazed into Jimin’s sleepy eyes, all soft around the edges, and he knew once and for all that he would never want to look at another in this way. A sick feeling clawed its way into his gut as he realised that when they got home to Korea, Jimin would return to his own flat. Taehyung’s injury had healed to the point that he didn’t need Jimin’s help anymore – not that he really had for the past week, but Jimin had taken Taehyung’s rehabilitation needs very seriously in the lead up to the race at Interlagos. The idea of spending nights alone, without this soft, warm, achingly beloved body by his side, struck Taehyung like a hefty blow to the stomach.

“What’cha thinking about?” Jimin murmured, his gravelly voice too endearing for words.

Taehyung fought with his internal voice briefly before replying. “Just… that I love you,” he whispered, leaning in for the softest of kisses.

Jimin’s happy giggle filled all the cracks in Taehyung’s soul. In that precise moment, an idea began to form.

*****

Namjoon sat behind the desk in his home office, rubbing at his temples where an incipient headache was lodging itself. Most unwelcome. The cause of his headache?

Korean Grand Prix race week.

Given the outlandish success of so many Korean drivers in recent years, largely spearheaded by the achievements of one Kim Seokjin, the FIA had finally agreed to reinstate the race that hadn’t been seen on the calendar since 2013. Twelve years without a Formula 1 race had left the Korea International Circuit languishing and tatty, meaning quite some time and money had needed to be spent in order to restore the facilities to their former glory. That, however, wasn’t Kim Namjoon’s responsibility. His responsibilities centred around the two Korean drivers in his team that were currently fighting it out for the championship with yet another Korean – the Stallions driver Kim Taehyung. The major catalyst for Namjoon’s headache was the warring factions of fans. Most of them cowardly keyboard warriors hiding behind their computer screens… and yet, the unrest being stirred was rising in a way that was vastly uncomfortable. Namjoon was genuinely worried that race day would turn violent and what should be a glorious homecoming for the Silver Bullets team would end up being irreparably marred.

The thought flashed into his mind that he should call Hoseok. The performance coach had always been the best at untangling Namjoon’s mind from itself… But dare he? Dare he approach the man who had broken his heart, and who he’d so coldly plotted to ambush in a slightly misguided attempt at revenge? Sure, they still had a working relationship, but this was something quite apart from that… Oh what can it hurt, the worst he can do is not answer, Namjoon thought as he dialled Hoseok’s number.

“Namjoon?” Hoseok answered, a suspicious lilt to his voice.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon responded, his voice squeaking a little. “Uh, thanks for answering the call. “

“It’s fine,” Hoseok replied flatly. “What can I do for you?”

Namjoon’s heavy sigh had the effect of melting Hoseok’s resistance immediately.

“It’s just… The Korean Grand Prix and everything that goes along with it,” Namjoon admitted.

Hoseok hummed in understanding. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked, voice full of gentle encouragement.

“Please,” Namjoon sighed in relief.

Twenty minutes later, Namjoon had unloaded all his fears and worries, Hoseok’s calming voice and temperament keeping him steady throughout.

“You know what, Joon?” Hoseok paused, internally cringing at the nickname he felt he’d lost the right to use. When Namjoon didn’t protest, Hoseok continued. “There’s nothing much to be gained by worrying about things you can’t control. And you know that, right?”

“Right,” Namjoon agreed sadly. “But I just wish there was something I could do to avoid it-“

“There isn’t,” Hoseok replied flatly. “How about you try to focus on what you can control, instead?”

“You’re right, Hoba,” Namjoon replied, feeling himself jolt at the instinctive endearment that he hadn’t used for so long. When Hoseok didn’t respond, Namjoon felt ready to continue. “Thank you for setting my mind at ease.”

“No problem, Joon,” Hoseok murmured. “Now, how about you try and get some sleep? It’s late.”

Namjoon checked his wall clock and did a double-take when he noticed it was almost midnight. “I didn’t realise how late it was. Thanks for answering my call,” he rushed out.

“Anytime,” Hoseok replied, his voice curiously small. “I’ll see you on Friday in Yeongam, I guess.”

Namjoon was surprised at the rush of warmth that suffused him at Hoseok’s words. “Yeah, Hoba, you will. Goodnight,” he said, ending the call.

As he brushed his teeth before heading to bed, Namjoon couldn’t help thinking guiltily of Yoongi. Would he see this as a betrayal? Perhaps it was best that he didn’t know about it.

*****

Korea International Circuit, Yeongam, South Korea

Disembarking the small chartered plane that landed at the nearby Shinhan Airfield, Seokjin was freshly struck by the significance of this particular occasion. He and Jeongguk had travelled together. Which Seokjin was grateful for, as he needed his boyfriend’s support more than ever. The fact that this circuit had been reinstated largely because of his achievements was almost too much for Seokjin to handle. Perhaps past Seokjin, with his cocky attitude and concrete walls that kept his more tender feelings locked deep inside, might have found it a little easier to manage. But the newly vulnerable side of himself that had recently come to the forefront was finding it a little more difficult. He was also still the championship leader – albeit barely, with Kim Taehyung five points behind him and Jeongguk five points further adrift. Strange, then, that he’d never felt quite as detached from racing as he did right now.

Of course the press had been hounding him, snapping desperately at his heels for a quote. He’d simply told them that it would be a great honour to race at Korea International Circuit for the first time in his career. In fact, not a single one of the current crop of drivers had raced there before – even the veteran Lee Jinki’s career had begun after the circuit was removed from the calendar. Truthfully, it was all thanks to Jinki’s trailblazing that the current influx of Korean racing drivers had flooded into Formula 1. It only took one person to change a story. Seokjin was enormously grateful that his older colleague and friend had paved the way for him, Taehyung, Jeongguk, and many others. Since his slip-up with being misquoted, Seokjin had been trying to avoid talking to the press too much. Frankly, his inner peace demanded it. Once or twice, his head had been briefly turned by headlines that suggested Seokjin might be ‘past it’ and should step aside for the new generation of drivers. How fickle, he mused. I won the last three championships and I’m still in the lead of this one, but even that isn’t enough for them.

“You all right?” Jeongguk asked quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

For a moment, Seokjin had quite forgotten where he was. “Yeah, thanks Guk,” he replied gratefully. “Let’s get to the track, OK?”

A short drive later, they had arrived. Seokjin had to admit that the circuit certainly looked the part. Of course he’d spent many hours driving the track layout on the simulator. But there was nothing quite like seeing a circuit in reality.

“Whoa,” Jeongguk breathed, his mouth falling open.

Seokjin got it. Some would say “it’s just a track”. With its complicated layout, it was quite a spectacular track. But it wasn’t just that. It was a home track. For the first time, Korean Formula 1 drivers would be able to race on their native soil. And that – well, it was precious beyond measure.

Jimin’s head began to spin as he followed a link to yet another article focusing on Taehyung’s season thus far. He’d lost count of the number of articles praising his boyfriend and predicting that Kim Taehyung was finally going to get the championship he deserved. While those were certainly a pleasant read, there were an equal amount of articles tearing him down, suggesting that his crash in Mexico was a symptom of the pressure getting to him and proof that he still wouldn’t be able to put together a successful championship campaign.

“Babe, why are you still reading that crap?” Taehyung drawled, raising an eyebrow.

“I just want to get a clear picture of things-“

Taehyung shook his head and placed his hands on Jimin’s shoulders. “Look at me, Jiminie. See this here?” He pointed at himself. “This is all that matters. They can talk all the crap they want and it won’t change a damn thing. Let them yap! The only people whose opinions matter are yours and mine,” he finished flippantly, a smirk gracing the smooth curves of his lips.

Involuntarily, Jimin’s eyes creased into crescent moons and his lips tilted up in a grin. “Well, my opinion is that you’re a superstar,” he said boldly, standing on his tiptoes to press a quick kiss to Taehyung’s waiting mouth.

“Then that’s all I could ever wish for,” Taehyung murmured. Nuzzling their noses together, he sighed happily. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s quickly settle in and then we’ll go for a run around this circuit.”

As Jimin’s small hand slipped into his, interlocking their fingers instinctively, Taehyung’s heart gave a happy little lurch. The past few days had felt torturous. After the journey back from Incheon to Taehyung’s mansion, Jimin had taken his small suitcase and they’d sorrowfully parted ways. Taehyung couldn’t even convince Jimin to let Siwoo drive him home. No, Jimin insisted that he wasn’t too good for the subway. Taehyung privately disagreed. The idea of his Jimin being squashed into a crowded carriage full of rush hour commuters set his teeth on edge. His Jimin should travel everywhere in comfort and luxury, surely? But his Jimin was also stubborn and frugal, and eventually Taehyung had to yield.

He couldn’t help being painfully aware that the season would be over soon. After this Grand Prix, there were only three race weekends remaining. Taehyung’s heart plummeted when he remembered how infrequently he’d seen Jimin for the first part of the off-season last year – in fact, he hadn’t seen him at all until they resumed training. Back then, it had been a niggling ache somewhere deeply buried in his feelings. The fact that he had missed his performance coach at all had struck him as slightly odd. Now, he knew that his feelings for Jimin had been growing for longer than he’d realised. The fact that they’d taken root, thrived and become undeniable was unsurprising, when Taehyung looked back at it. Though intellectually he knew that Jimin wouldn’t just disappear from his life this time, given the major shift in the nature of their relationship, Taehyung felt a deep compulsion to ensure that it wouldn’t be so. He wanted Jimin beside him always. The more he thought about that, the more he wanted it. It was his dearest hope that Jimin felt the same way…

****

Yoongi ambled sleepily into the Silver Bullets hospitality area, rubbing his eyes and making a beeline right for the espresso machine. Thankfully, he appeared to be the only person there. Good. He could use a little solitude. Though the journey had been short and comfortable, travelling with Namjoon in his chartered jet, Yoongi had still managed to fall asleep on the plane. The adoring look on Namjoon’s face when he’d gently shaken Yoongi’s shoulder to inform him that they’d landed was still burned into his mind, causing him to grin and blush. While the events that had led to him and Namjoon getting together may have been regrettable, Yoongi had absolutely no actual regrets about embarking on a relationship with the team principal. They made each other happy, and wasn’t that what counted?

Lost in dreamland, Yoongi wandered toward a comfortable-looking armchair. That would do just nicely while he enjoyed a fortifying brew. The high-backed chair faced out of the window, giving it unparalleled views of the circuit. There would be no on-track action for the Formula 1 cars for another couple of hours, meaning Yoongi could take his time to sit and sip before heading down to the garage and starting the weekend’s work in earnest. He was just about to sit down when he happened to glance at the chair he’d been eyeing and almost fell over.

Hoseok had beaten him to it. Curled up comfortably in the chair Yoongi had earmarked for himself, Hoseok’s limbs were tucked in to the point that he simply wasn’t visible from behind. “Oh…” Yoongi uttered.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok murmured in greeting. “Did you want to sit here?”

“Well, I was going to, but I didn’t know you were already sitting there…”

“I can leave,” Hoseok sighed. “I will leave. Just give me a moment to collect my things-“

“No,” Yoongi blurted out. “There’s another armchair. I’ll just sit in that one. Don’t let me disturb you.”

Hoseok eyed him beadily. “Look, Yoongi, I think we’re already a long way past that point.”

“Hoba, please stay,” Yoongi said quietly. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to run away from me. We work for the same team, after all. Stay, finish your drink. I won’t bite.”

You used to, when I asked you nicely, were the words that jumped into Hoseok’s mind without warning. He felt a blush rise on his cheeks and willed it to go down. Yearning surged in his chest, brought on by Yoongi’s proximity. Hoseok’s mind suddenly filled with images of intimate moments they’d shared, the way they’d taken so much pleasure in each other’s bodies. And even more poignantly, the conversations they’d have after sex. Naked and spent, snuggled in each other’s arms, they’d often talk until the sun came up. And laugh! How they would laugh… I guess Yoongi and Namjoon have each other for that, now. They don’t need me, Hoseok thought, a heavy lump settling uncomfortably in his chest. Dully, he stared out the window.

“…you been?”

Hoseok jolted. Had Yoongi been talking to him? His eyes darted to the engineer’s face. It certainly appeared as though Yoongi was waiting for a response.

“Uh… I’m sorry, Yoongi. I didn’t hear what you said,” Hoseok admitted.

Yoongi huffed out a laugh. “It’s OK, Hoba. I asked how you’ve been, that’s all.”

Yoongi’s words had the effect of dissolving the lump in Hoseok’s chest.

“You really want to know?” he murmured, regretting his choice of words the moment they fell from his lips.

Yoongi’s gaze softened as he met Hoseok’s eyes. “Yeah, Hoba. I do want to know,” he said quietly.

Attempting to subdue his turbulent emotions, Hoseok took a deep breath. It was no use, though. When he opened his mouth, they came flying right out of him. “Honestly, Yoongi, I’m doing terribly,” he blurted out. “I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt this low. Look, I’m trying to be happy for you and Namjoon, really I am. I know I don’t deserve any consideration from either of you because of the way I behaved, but… Yoongi, I have to say this even if I end up regretting it,” Hoseok paused, meeting Yoongi’s gaze dead-on. When no protest came, Hoseok allowed the fateful words to form on his lips.

“I did what I did because I was falling in love with both of you. I didn’t mean to hurt either you or Namjoon. For that, I’m desperately sorry. The problem was that my feelings for both of you were far too strong to ignore. So I fucked up. Big time. I know that, believe me. If I could go back again and avoid hurting either of you I would do that in a heartbeat. But I need you to know – and Namjoon, too – that it all stemmed from love.”

By the time Hoseok had finished speaking, Yoongi’s mouth had fallen open and his eyes blown wide. Hoseok took the opportunity to rise from his seat, giving Yoongi a small smile before making a swift exit.

Unable to do anything else but stare out the window in silent contemplation, Yoongi jumped almost a foot off his chair when his phone pinged with a message from Namjoon asking where he was. Looking at the clock on his phone, Yoongi realised that Free Practice 1 was due to start in twenty minutes. Slowly, painfully, he managed to drag himself out of the armchair and down to the garage. Feelings could wait until later. Right now, it was time to work.

*****

“How’s the balance, Tae?” Hyungsik queried.

“Feels fine to me,” Taehyung answered. “Maybe we can tweak the rear wing a little when I come in?”

“I think that will be possible,” Hyungsik agreed. “Gotta love learning a brand new track, hmm?”

Taehyung laughed. “Well, I think it’s fun.”

“That’s pretty obvious, given you’re well clear at the top of the timesheets,” Hyungsik responded wryly.

“Of course I am. I’m Kim Taehyung,” came the cheeky response.

Hyungsik shared a conspiratorial eye roll with Jimin beside him. “I have a feeling he’s going to do just fine, this weekend,” Hyungsik declared.

A fresh track. A clean slate. No history to overcome.

Jeongguk thrived under such conditions. He’d always prided himself on his ability to learn a track faster than almost anyone else, managing to squeeze the most out of a hot lap once he’d had a few for practice. Even Seokjin was impressed when at the end of Free Practice 1, Jeongguk managed to pull out the fastest lap in the final three minutes of running, deposing Kim Taehyung who had looked almost absurdly comfortable in first place.

“Fantastic work, Guk. That’s P1 at the end of the session,” Yeonjun let him know, pride seeping through in his voice.

“Oh,” Jeongguk uttered. “That’s cool. Thanks, Jjunie,” he’d managed to say through his surprise. He’d become so used to being beaten by Kim Taehyung that even finishing ahead of him in a practice session sparked something into life in Jeongguk’s gut.

Later, after the team debrief, Jeongguk was packing up his things in his driver room when Seokjin knocked on the door.

“Hey,” he uttered.

“Hey,” Jeongguk grinned.

“Great job out there, today. See what happens when you don’t give up?” Seokjin said archly, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“Easy for you to say,” Jeongguk scoffed. Still, he melted into the hug that Seokjin was determined to give him.

“What do you mean? I came third. Again.” Seokjin replied, the amusement in his voice belied by the slight furrow of his brows.

“And you don’t seem overly bothered by it. Hence, my point,” Jeongguk shot back, poking out his tongue cheekily.

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I take the good when it comes. And frankly, I don’t think third place in Free Practice 1 is too terrible. There’s still a lot more to do before we leave here,” he pointed out.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk murmured.

The set of his jaw told Seokjin that Jeongguk wasn’t playing around. He was here to win. Seokjin only hoped the fallout wouldn’t be too severe if he didn’t manage to do precisely that.

*****

Taehyung strode through the paddock post-practice session, with Jimin on his heels attempting to get him to drink a protein shake and eat pieces of a cut-up apple dipped in peanut butter. Far  too preoccupied to do anything else, Taehyung would open his mouth from time to time to accept whatever morsel Jimin was currently offering him. Passing Jeongguk, Taehyung gave the younger driver a wave and a smile. Jeongguk’s expression certainly wasn’t what Taehyung had been expecting.

“What the… Did Jeon just… sneer at me?” Taehyung asked Jimin in disbelief.

Jimin blinked in surprise. “You know what, I think he did,” he affirmed. “Weird.”

Glancing up at Taehyung, Jimin noticed his boyfriend’s jaw set into a firm line.

Oh shit, we’re in for it now, was his immediate, instinctive thought.

*****

While Jeon Jeongguk had drawn first blood by topping Free Practice 1, Kim Taehyung was absolutely not allowing him to repeat that in the second practice session. Even though the team discussions had centred around the idea of doing a race simulation, which Taehyung duly did, he still couldn’t resist pumping in a few hot laps to ensure that when the session ended it was his name at the top of the list.

I hope he’s not overdoing it, Jimin mused.

Taehyung’s shoulder had seemed to be in good shape, but any movement that was too harsh ran the risk of setting him back. And with the season fast coming to an end and Taehyung’s championship challenge rising to its zenith, he simply could not afford for that to happen.

But for Taehyung, his biggest fear was not doing enough. If he allowed this year’s championship to slip through his fingers again, well… He couldn’t bear to think about it. And at the same time, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Right now, he was so close to actually being able to call himself a World Champion. Not a runner-up. Not someone who could have won, had things gone differently. No. Taehyung could actually win. With only three races to go, he was five points off the championship lead.

Five measly points.

Taehyung found himself sending up yet another prayer to deities he wasn’t sure he believed in, asking for things to go smoothly from here on out. Didn’t he deserve that much?

*****

When Namjoon arrived in the paddock on Saturday, he went straight to his makeshift office, closed the door firmly, and slumped into his desk chair. Resting his elbows on the desk, he allowed his head to fall into his hands and took a few deep breaths.

Catastrofuck. That was the only word he could apply to what he’d witnessed on his way in.

His conversation with Hoseok had gone some way toward settling his mind. At least, knowing that there were things he couldn’t control and that he would be better off not even attempting to do so. But when one arrived at the track to see large factions of fans at war, it suddenly felt like his problem all over again. The main groups were three. One for Kim Seokjin, one for Jeon Jeongguk and one for Kim Taehyung. In the past, Namjoon had found it useful that only one of their drivers was in line for championship triumph – certainly, it made things less complicated behind the closed doors of the team. This year, he’d briefly considered implementing team orders, but by the time he’d considered that, the horse had already bolted, leaving the stable doors wide open. So he’d resolved to simply let things happen as they would… And now, he wondered whether that had been a good idea at all.

Seokjin was the reigning champion. Jeongguk was a rookie. Seokjin was still leading the championship. Why had Namjoon allowed Jeongguk to get so close?

As if you could have stopped him, an inner voice piped up. Jeon Jeongguk was no ordinary rookie. In his heart of hearts, Namjoon felt certain that Jeongguk’s talent would eventually prove to be even greater than Seokjin’s. Not that he’d ever allow those words to pass his lips…

And then, there was the problem of Kim Taehyung. Namjoon had assumed, like in previous years, that the man in red would start the season strongly and then fade away. But this time, there had been no fade. The crash in Mexico had been regrettable – Namjoon had genuinely worried for Taehyung’s safety – but even that hadn’t slowed him down. Here, again, he was threatening to be unstoppable.

A headache threatened at Namjoon’s temples. It seemed like one was always threatening, these days. And that was even without considering his own personal situation. Why, after everything that had happened, was he still feeling drawn to Hoseok? The happiness he’d found with Yoongi should have been enough. It was enough, and yet… Namjoon’s treacherous heart still found itself yearning.

One problem at a time, he reminded himself. This weekend is for racing. Glancing at his watch, Namjoon realised that it was time to prepare for qualifying. Rummaging through his desk drawer for some paracetamol, he downed two with a sip of water, shook himself from head to toe, and strode toward the nucleus of action.

Jimin placed his hands on Taehyung’s shoulders as they breathed together, deep, slow and calming. “Remember who you are, Kim Taehyung,” he murmured, pulling him into one last hug before Taehyung did his final preparations for qualifying.

Taehyung responded with a lopsided smile. “I’ll do my best,” he muttered, giving Jimin’s hand a fond squeeze before walking away.

Jimin always enjoyed witnessing the moment his sweet Taehyungie transformed into Kim Taehyung, Formula 1 driver. A thrill of pride coursed through him as he watched Taehyung greet the rest of the team personnel and knuckle down to work. The sheer growth that Taehyung had exhibited this year continued to boggle Jimin’s mind. He had suspected that Taehyung was capable of such things, but his lackadaisical attitude in the past had meant that so much had been left on the table. Jimin had genuinely believed that Taehyung didn’t really care. He was rich, handsome, sought-after. What did it matter if he was World Champion or just a very well-paid multiple Grand Prix winner?

Now, Jimin realised that Taehyung had wanted him to think that. He’d wanted the whole world to think that, truthfully. If only to hide the tender heart within that housed the tiny boy who’d driven his first go-kart and fallen in love with the idea of being a racer. The best racer, that was what Kim Taehyung had always wanted to be. And now, he truly had a chance to bring home the one trophy he’d always coveted above any other.

And yet. No matter how many times he told himself he was being silly, Jimin simply couldn’t shake the trepidation that gnawed at the edges of his heart. I’ll give anything if only he stays safe, he prayed. He knew there was nothing he could do, no way he could prevent Taehyung from taking the risks he needed to take in order to bring home the championship. Being a performance coach had been so much easier before his heart had become involved.

“Great lap, Jin! That’s P1 at the end of the first qualifying session,” Yoongi let him know.

“Oh! Yay me,” Seokjin blurted out. It had been a while since he’d finished a session in the top spot, and he had to admit to himself that he’d missed the feeling.

Yoongi’s deep chuckle left Seokjin wondering if his response had been rather silly. On reflection, though, he decided that he didn’t care. His enormous grin was well-hidden underneath his helmet, after all.

“P2, Tae. Kim Seokjin just pipped you at the end, there,” Hyungsik reported.

“Ah well. I’m through. Position doesn’t matter until the end, I guess,” Taehyung replied casually.

“That’s the spirit,” Hyungsik encouraged, smiling over at Jimin who was giving him two thumbs up.

“I’m afraid that’s P3, Guk,” Yeonjun ventured carefully.

“What?!” Jeongguk exploded. “P3? What’s the order, then?” he demanded to know.

“Kim Seokjin P1, Kim Taehyung P2,” Yeonjun replied calmly, bracing himself for another onslaught.

“Oh for fu- Uh. I mean, that sucks, Jjunie. I’ll just have to try harder,” Jeongguk grumbled.

The second qualifying session was predictable inasmuch as the top three qualifiers had clear daylight between themselves and the surprising addition of Kim Mingyu in his Arlington in fourth place. The home track advantage was really showing, for some. And still, the fans warred. Chants would rise up from one part of the grandstand only to be drowned out by another section shouting even louder for ‘their’ driver. The air was thick with tension, quite apart from the ferocious battle taking place on track.

From his position in the Silver Bullets garage, Hoseok could feel the air crackling and pulsing. Eerie. That’s the word he would use to describe it. As though they were on the cusp of something happening. Hoseok only hoped that whatever it was, it didn’t ruin the entire Grand Prix weekend. He already had enough to worry about with Jeongguk’s recent volatility. Jeongguk had said all the right things when they’d done some mental work earlier in the day. But Hoseok sensed that Jeongguk wasn’t being completely honest. Years of doing this job had given him a highly-tuned bullshit detector and Jeongguk was certainly setting off the alarms. With a sigh, he acknowledged that while Jeongguk was on the track and Hoseok was in the garage, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. So he’d simply have to hope for the best – and prepare for the worst.

Kim Seokjin’s first hot lap in the third part of qualifying put him directly into P1. Unfortunately, he got very little time to enjoy it before Jeon Jeongguk dethroned him. Not two minutes later, the top spot was occupied by Kim Taehyung. Seokjin could feel a particular tension in the air today. He didn’t know how much of that was in his mind, but whatever the case, he certainly felt it. Although it was easy enough to tune out the crowds while one was on track giving their all, it was much more difficult as soon as one was out of the car. Seokjin’s heart had sunk to the floor when he’d arrived at the track that morning and heard the unmistakeable sound of warring fandoms. Do they even know that we all get along well? Do they care? he’d wondered as he strode down the pitlane to the Silver Bullets garage. For now, though, he had two more hot laps to complete. Seokjin could worry about the rest later.

Taehyung knew that he was in ‘the zone’ on his second hot lap. No extraneous thoughts marred his mind, so intently focused was he on what he had to do. And do it, he did. Glancing at the screens and seeing his name at the top, he gave a little fist pump inside the car. He knew he’d probably have to do it all again to secure the pole position, but he was Kim Taehyung. Of course he would manage.

Jeongguk cursed roundly inside his helmet as he encountered a load of understeer at turns 15 and 16, meaning he couldn’t quite get the throttle down as quickly as he’d have liked to roar over the line. Expectedly, the lap left him sitting in third position behind Seokjin and Taehyung. Subduing his roiling anger, Jeongguk reminded himself that he had one more chance to get it right.

One more chance to take pole position at home. Jeongguk had never wanted anything so badly in his life. The absurd thought crossed his mind that he would trade the opportunity to win the championship simply to take pole position today, if that’s what it came down to.

Seokjin knew that his second hot lap had been the most he could possibly get out of the car. There was no more. He’d peaked too early, and now he was a sitting duck. Seokjin would try to put a decent third lap in, but deep down, he knew that he could only hope to match what he’d done, not exceed it. He feared that Jeongguk and Taehyung would end up leaving him in the dust, and could only hope that he’d hold on to third position too. The gap to Kim Mingyu was over six tenths of a second, so Seokjin could feel somewhat confident. But one thing was certain – and that was the fact that in racing, absolutely nothing was certain.  

Gearing up for his final hot lap, Taehyung’s stomach filled with butterflies. He’d tried desperately to pretend that this qualifying session was no different to any other. And yet he knew it was. Somewhere, in the VIP area of the grandstand, his parents were watching. His brother and sister, too. He’d offered them the chance to watch from the comfort of the Stallions garage, but his father had refused. “I know you, my boy. If we’re there you’ll be worried about us, not about what you have to do,” he’d said gently. So instead, Taehyung had acquired the best possible seats for his family on the understanding that they would see him on Sunday after the race.

It would also be their first time meeting Jimin – well, as Taehyung’s boyfriend, anyway. He knew they would love him, because they already did. Everyone did. Even though nobody could possibly love Jimin as much as Taehyung.

Rounding the final corner before his hot lap, Taehyung’s focus came down and he found himself firmly in the zone once again. The lap seemed to fly past in the blink of an eye and soon, he was crossing the line to the cheers of the crowd. Allowing himself a glance at the screens, he saw his name at the top.

“Hyungsikkie, how’d we do?” he asked, feeling the need to confirm with his engineer.

“At the moment, Tae, that’s P1. But Jeon is just about to finish… Ah. Yeah, sorry, Tae. That’s P2. Second position. Front row. Great job.”

Making sure his radio button wasn’t being pressed, Taehyung turned the air blue inside his cockpit. After cursing vehemently until he was almost out of breath, Taehyung felt somewhat cleansed. Pressing his radio button again, Taehyung replied calmly, “Thanks, Hyungsikkie. I guess we can still do a lot from there.”

Goddamn it, Jeon, Taehyung thought rudely. I’ll just have to beat you again tomorrow.

“Oh my God, Guk! You did it! That’s POLE POSITION AT YOUR HOME GRAND PRIX!” Yeonjun crowed wildly over the radio.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I DID IT! I’M ON POOOOOOOOOOOOOOLE POSITION!” Jeongguk screamed, the sheer volume of his voice sending the radio channel firmly into distortion.

“Jin, that’s P3,” Yoongi’s voice flooded his ears.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. I just didn’t have anything more to give,” Seokjin sighed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jin,” Yoongi scoffed. “You’re still leading the championship. Plus, I’ve seen you win races from well outside the top six, so you have absolutely nothing to apologise for.”

But I cared so much more, then, Seokjin realised. Could he actually pull off something like that, now? Even the thousands of people chanting his name couldn’t make up for the deficit of enthusiasm.

“What’s the order?” he managed to ask.

“Jeongguk P1, Taehyung P2,” Yoongi replied.

“Oh, good for Guk,” Seokjin couldn’t stop himself from saying.

Jeongguk’s mother was present this weekend. Given that Seokjin hadn’t been formally introduced to her, they’d decided it was best not to spend the nights together this time around. Although they’d discussed the meeting, there hadn’t been a time that Jeongguk had so far deemed appropriate. Seokjin hadn’t expected to find it so difficult to not have access to Jeongguk. All he wanted to do was go back to the hotel and cuddle with his boyfriend. To fall asleep and wake up with their limbs entangled, their faces close as they shared the same air. But that wasn’t available to him, today.

The pensive look on Jimin’s face as they walked back to the Stallions hospitality area after the press conference had Taehyung failing to hold back a giggle.

“Why so serious, Jiminie?” he teased, reaching out to tickle underneath Jimin’s chin.

“Hey, stop it!” Jimin protested, swatting Taehyung’s hand away. “Can’t a man be serious?”

Taehyung pulled a ridiculous face. “Well, a man can be serious. But you can’t, unless there’s something up,” he pointed out.

Caught out, Jimin couldn’t suppress the flush that overtook him. Clearing his throat, he shot Taehyung a glare. “Nothing’s up, Tae. Let’s get something to eat,” he said, his tone brooking no refusal.

Pushing his lips out into a pout, Taehyung agreed, following Jimin quietly to the hospitality area.

Namjoon’s relief, when the day’s on-track action ended and the crowd dispersed without fisticuffs, was palpable. Watching people file out of the grandstands amicably, he felt his heart rate return to normal and his breathing reach deeper into his abdomen. Hoseok happened to glance over at that moment. Surreptitiously, he took a few steps closer and gently patted Namjoon on the arm in mute reassurance. The look of surprise on the team principal’s face quickly turned into a smile, his full lips parting around pearly white teeth. Hoseok couldn’t resist smiling right back at him. For Yoongi, watching from the other side of the room, the sight was positively dazzling.

*****

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jimin sing-songed as Taehyung’s eyes struggled to open.

“Whattime’s it?” he slurred, pulling the covers over his head.

“Eight thirty,” Jimin informed him. “Time for you to get up. We have a physical warmup to do… Oh!” he squealed as Taehyung’s hands shot out of the covers and grabbed him around the waist, pulling Jimin down on top of him.

“Physical warmup, you say?” Taehyung intoned darkly, settling Jimin firmly over the bulge in his boxers.

“Tae, are you sure?” Jimin breathed, quickly feeling himself succumb to the pull of desire. “Maybe we should save this until after the race… ah!”

Taehyung’s hands had slipped down to Jimin’s ass, giving the cheeks a firm squeeze.

“After the race, you’ll be meeting my family,” he reminded Jimin. “Judging by the state of… this,” he cupped Jimin’s fast-swelling cock in his hand, “asking you to wait until late tonight would be unfairly torturous, no?”

Fuck, Jimin thought. He’s right. I can’t wait that long. The sheer potency of Jimin’s desire for his boyfriend was impossible to ignore. So when Taehyung slid his hands underneath the waistband of Jimin’s boxers and coaxed them down his legs, Jimin didn’t protest. Nor did he protest when Taehyung diligently prepared him, or when large hands guided Jimin’s hips, helping him buck up and down on Taehyung’s cock. In fact, the only complaint Jimin had was that when Taehyung flipped them over and began thrusting so, so deep inside him, the press of his cock against Jimin’s prostate felt simply too good.

“Tae, oh God, I’m not gonna last,” he whined, his body fast dissolving into a shower of sparks.

“Don’t try,” Taehyung murmured, his velvet voice wine-dark with desire. “I want to feel you come.”

Taehyung always gets what he wants, was Jimin’s final thought before his internal muscles clenched hard and warm, sticky cum streaked between their bellies. The sound Jimin let out, a combination of a wail and a whimper, surprised him. He hadn’t expected a noise like that to come from his own mouth. But then again… Taehyung.

“That’s it, baby. Shit, you’re so tight, so soft… so good for me, fuck…” Taehyung managed to say until his orgasm slammed into him, robbing him of the ability to form coherent words. His spent body lolled heavily on Jimin’s, pressing him into the mattress.

Feels nice, like a human weighted blanket, Jimin thought sleepily. But now was not the time to luxuriate in the afterglow. They had a Grand Prix to prepare for. Knowing how much he’d annoy Taehyung by doing so, Jimin’s small fingers poked at the exposed skin of his side. “Taehyungie. We have to move,” he whispered.

“Five more minutes,” Taehyung mumbled, the buzzing of his lips tickling Jimin’s neck.

Trapped under Taehyung’s weight, Jimin had little choice but to give in. Once the five minutes were up, though, his inquisitive fingers resumed their poking.

“Aargh! Tickles,” Taehyung complained. He attempted to use his weight to stop Jimin from moving any more, but Jimin was too strong. Gathering some of his power, Jimin shoved Taehyung off him and rolled deftly off the bed. “Taehyung. Up. Now!” he ordered. His lips curved up into a gratified smirk as Taehyung did precisely what he was told.

“I’m not doing this because you told me to. I’m doing this because I want to win,” Taehyung mumbled grumpily.

Jimin simply flashed him the sweetest of smiles.

*****

Every seat in the grandstand was full, all general admission areas overflowing with spectators crowding in for the best possible view of the track. The warring factions seemed to have agreed on a temporary ceasefire, much to the teams’ relief. Seojoon and Namjoon had discussed it over breakfast that morning. They’d scheduled the meeting in order to make pre-emptive plans to avoid any danger to their drivers and team personnel. But as it turned out, that hadn’t been necessary. At least, not by the time the cars began their formation lap.

Namjoon, seated on the Silver Bullets pit wall, allowed himself a moment’s peace. He knew it was the last one he’d get for at least the next ninety minutes. The way he saw it, they had two potential problems, today. One was Kim Taehyung, and the other was the weather. Forecasts showed a storm front coming through that was predicted to hit the track right in the middle of the race. Right now, the sun was shining and the air temperature was a balmy 17 degrees Celsius. But if the rain hit the way it was supposed to, it would be a nightmare for the drivers and teams. One couldn’t really go on to intermediate tyres pre-emptively, because a dry track would wear them out, leaving them useless if the rains did come. But getting caught in the rain on slicks was potentially even more dangerous. Lack of grip could result in huge accidents if the cars were close on the racetrack. It was a headache that Namjoon really didn’t need…

Jeongguk’s heart was racing as he wove to and fro on the start/finish straight before stopping his car in the pole position box. The fire in his veins was unlike that of any other race start he could remember – normally, he was relatively calm. But not this time. This race meant so much to Jeongguk. Perhaps a little too much.

“All settings correct, Tae,” Hyungsik informed him after guiding Taehyung through a few minor tweaks on the formation lap. “Let’s get ‘em.”

“Count on it,” Taehyung replied flippantly. Coming to a stop in his box, his car was very definitely pointed toward the Silver Bullet on pole position. Taehyung would be leaving absolutely nothing to chance.

Leading the second row, Seokjin calmly positioned himself for the start. An unexpected thrill of excitement rushed through him. This is what it used to feel like, he remembered fondly. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts, he told himself as the five lights went on.

The moment they went off, the track was a flurry of activity. Xu Minghao, in his Wilkins, had stalled from eighth place and cars darted left and right trying to avoid crashing into him, or each other. Luckily, they all managed to get away. Minghao, however, wasn’t so lucky, needing to be wheeled back into the pitlane as his car refused to get going. So only nineteen cars made it around the first lap.

Jeongguk’s start had gone absolutely according to plan. He’d moved away from the line rapidly and smoothly and was well able to cover off a rampaging Kim Taehyung. By the time they’d reached the second lap, though, Taehyung was already nipping at his heels.

“Fuck you,” Jeongguk gritted out as Taehyung’s front wing surged alongside him in a corner. Ultimately, Taehyung had to yield as Jeongguk was ahead at the apex. However, it had been a little too close for comfort in Jeongguk’s eyes. Once the drag reduction system was enabled on Lap 3, Jeongguk knew he’d need a miracle to keep Kim Taehyung behind him.

Firing his Stallion out of Turn 3, Taehyung opened his rear wing. The whoosh of increased speed allowed him to pull alongside Jeongguk and, finally, overtake him on the straight before turn 4. The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and boos – it depended where one was sitting. Taehyung didn’t hear any of it over his own loud whooping.

“Fantastic overtake, Tae. That’s P1. Keep your head down, now,” Hyungsik congratulated him.

What Jeongguk didn’t expect, however, was a major challenge from Seokjin. Sensing that Jeongguk’s head wasn’t quite in the game after Taehyung’s overtake, Seokjin began harrying him around the lap, showing him a front wheel several times but ultimately unable to do anything more.

“Seokjin, this is Namjoon,” the familiar voice boomed over his radio. “You and Jeongguk are free to race, but please keep it clean.”

“Gotcha,” Seokjin agreed. Keeping himself well inside the drag reduction system’s detection zone, he readied himself to try again.

“Box this lap, Guk,” Yeonjun’s voice came through loud and clear.

“But why? My pace is good-“

“This appears to be the best strategy,” Yeonjun replied flatly. “Confirm?”

“All right, Jjunie, I’ll come in,” Jeongguk muttered, making sure his in lap was neat and tidy.

“Jeon is pitting,” Hyungsik informed Taehyung on lap sixteen. “What do you want to do, Tae?”

“Stay out,” he replied. “My tyres are good, I should be able to avoid the undercut.”

“Whatever you say,” Hyungsik agreed.

Following that conversation, Taehyung proceeded to fire in the fastest lap of the race so far.

“Jeon is twenty-three seconds behind you,” Hyungsik told him. “So far, looking good. You want to go one more lap?”

“Sure. These tyres are fine,” Taehyung said breezily.

Yoongi called Seokjin into the pits on the following lap. Emerging less than half a second behind Jeongguk, Seokjin’s eyes lit up. I can get him, he thought. With Namjoon’s words echoing in his head, he set about chasing his teammate down.

“Box this lap, Tae, repeat, box this lap.”

“Confirm.”

Swerving into his pit box, Taehyung stopped slightly long on his marks. The mechanics therefore had to adjust by a few inches, lengthening the pit stop process by a further half a second. Tyre change completed, Taehyung was given the go-ahead to return to the track. Half a second, Taehyung thought to himself. Surely I managed to cover that off?

Seeing not one, but two Silver Bullets flash past him as he left the pit lane was certainly an unwelcome surprise. “Hyungsikkie, how come I’m in third place now?” he asked incredulously.

Hyungsik hummed. “Sorry, Tae. A combination of fabulous laps from Jeon and Kim and that slightly long stop. You can get them, though,” he urged.

“Would be nice if I didn’t have to,” Taehyung replied archly.

Still, by the very next lap, he was right in Kim Seokjin’s wheel tracks. Coming out of Turn 3, he was able to engage the drag reduction system and perform a carbon copy of his manoeuvre on Jeon from Lap 3.

“Eat my dust, Your Majesty,” Taehyung chuckled to himself as Kim Seokjin faded into his mirrors. This time, however, Jeon seemed to have decided to make things a lot more difficult. His defending has really improved, Taehyung thought to himself. But now wasn’t the time to compliment his competitors. Narrowing his focus to the finest of points, he studied the car in front of him for a few laps, deducing where Jeon was strong, and where he was weak. It was the end of the lap where Taehyung was making up time, in the fast, twisty section between corners 14 and 18. Positioning the car just so, Taehyung soared through the difficult portion of the track and opened his rear wing on the start/finish straight. This time, he was close enough, and soared past Jeongguk back into the lead of the race.

“Jesus Christ! What do I have to do to keep that asshole behind me?” Jeongguk yelled, red mist coagulating behind his eyes and sending his heart rate spiking.

“It’s OK, Guk. You got him once, you can get him again,” Yeonjun said calmly.

“No offense, Jjunie, but could you please shut up?” Jeongguk snarled.

“Gotcha,” Yeonjun replied, a slight chuckle in his voice. The engineer was well used to drivers’ tempers. There was no need to take any of it personally.

Five laps later, Taehyung’s lead had grown substantially. With an empty track opening out in front of him, Taehyung was simply enjoying himself. This track was great fun, especially when one wasn’t trying to either attack or defend. Hyungsik, of course, kept him updated on the gaps.

“Three seconds back to Jeon and a further half a second back to Kim Seokjin,” had been the latest update. Taehyung allowed himself a small smile. Oh yes, things were turning out wonderfully well thus far. Settling into a rhythm, he allowed the laps to tick away. By Lap 33, Taehyung was beginning to wonder whether it might be time to come in for fresh tyres. Putting the question to Hyungsik, he received a rather odd response.

“Maybe hold out for just five minutes more, Tae… There’s some surprising weather on the horizon.”

Taehyung glanced up at the sky. It appeared mostly clear, but as he got to the latter half of the track, a bank of ominous-looking dark clouds came into view. Shit, he remembered. We talked about the possibility of a storm in the team briefing. Three laps later, the first drops hit Taehyung’s visor.

“Box for inters, Tae,” Hyungsik called.

By the time Taehyung made it around to the pit entry, the conditions were almost ideal for full wet tyres. Still, he trusted his strategy team’s decision and opted for the intermediates. This stop was far less eventful than the last, and Taehyung soared back out into the lead of the race. Hyungsik let him know that Jeon and His Majesty had also pitted and were five seconds behind him. Good, Taehyung thought smugly.

Treacherous conditions were child’s play to Kim Taehyung. A rainmaster from way back, his impeccable car control made him almost un-catchable in wet races. Darting off into the distance, he’d soon put almost eight seconds between himself and Jeon in second place. Imagine his dismay when his dashboard began flashing with double yellows, swiftly followed by the Safety Car indicator.

All that hard work, and it was gone in an instant because somebody else had fucked up.

“Who was it?” Taehyung demanded.

Hyungsik sighed. “Kim Mingyu in the Arlington. Just ran out of talent, I think… dropped it at the exit of 11 and took Josh Hong with him. They’re both in the wall. Should take a good few laps to clear.”

“Oh for fucksake,” Taehyung muttered. Those precious eight seconds would wither down to nothing. He didn’t even have a tyre advantage for the restart, given that Jeon and His Majesty had pitted the lap after him…

“You’re just going to have to hold on, Tae,” Hyungsik said gently. “I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

“Not your fault, Hyungsikkie,” Taehyung replied flippantly. “Let’s just see what they’ve got, OK?”

While the safety car laps dragged on interminably, at least they saved the field from getting into any further accidents. The rain was still teeming down in a way that was rarely seen in November. Track temperatures had plummeted, and grip was going to be scarce once racing resumed.

Seokjin actually felt a sharp pang of fear when he thought about what might happen. What kind of racing driver are you? he scolded himself, banishing such thoughts from his mind.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, was bored. “When are we going to race again?” he whined to Yeonjun.

“Looks like safety car might be in on the next lap,” Yeonjun murmured. “I’ll keep you informed, obviously.”

“Fuckin’ hope so,” Jeongguk grumbled. His tyre temperature had absolutely tanked, and on a wet track there was really no foolproof way to avoid that. At least Kim Taehyung had been brought down from his lofty perch a little…

“Tae, safety car will be in this lap,” Hyungsik let him know. “Including this one, we have nine laps to go. You’ve got this. We’re all rooting for you.”

“Gotcha,” Taehyung replied dryly. The rain had slowed somewhat, although there were still some parts of the track that were incredibly wet. The final nine laps would need every ounce of concentration he possessed. At last, the safety car peeled into the pitlane and Taehyung was the one dictating the race restart. He’d pondered what approach to take, wondering if it would be better to go early or late. But given the aggressive way Jeon was crowding into his mirrors, Taehyung decided his best course of action was to simply go for it.

Stick to him, stick to him, stick to him! Jeongguk repeated silently to himself, vowing not to let Taehyung get away again. What he didn’t realise was that Seokjin, in turn, was sticking to Jeongguk. The top three broke away from the pack to the tune of one second by the end of Lap 47. And still, there was nothing to choose between them.

By Lap 49 that second had stretched out to three, and still, Kim Taehyung stubbornly kept hold of the race lead. Jeongguk knew he was going to have to do something risky if he wanted the win today… He only hoped that it would pay off. The fact that Seokjin was almost pushing him along the track added urgency to Jeongguk’s desire to overtake Taehyung – if he didn’t manage to do so fairly soon, there was a real chance that Seokjin would overtake both of them and sail off into the lead.

Jeongguk loved Seokjin. But he was also desperate to beat him. The two things somehow managed to coexist quite easily within him. With that thought spurring him on, Jeongguk fired his car down the inside of Taehyung’s at Turn 3, taking the Stallions driver by surprise. Move completed, Jeongguk drew away with an enormous grin on his face.

“Gotcha,” he sneered. Although he would quickly come to regret that.

Kim Taehyung was not one to sit back and let himself be overtaken. Immediately, he fought back, retaking Jeongguk at the next corner. Over the next three laps, they swapped positions uncountable times. The crowd’s roar became one continuous wall of noise as the laps ticked down. With two laps remaining, Jeongguk managed to put a little bit of breathing space between himself and Taehyung, leaving the man in red to defend against Seokjin. Foolishly, perhaps, Jeongguk allowed himself to believe that Taehyung’s challenge might have run out of steam. The rain had stopped, and they were having to cool their intermediate tyres by running over wet spots on the track. Jeongguk’s tyres were struggling to hold on. So, naturally, he assumed that Taehyung’s would be the same, given Taehyung had pitted the lap before him.

As the counter ticked over to the final lap, the crowd’s intensity kicked up a notch. Gritting his teeth, Jeongguk threw his car around turns 4, 5 and 6, giggling a little in sheer glee as Taehyung and Seokjin remained safely behind him.

What is that weird English saying? Jeongguk found himself thinking. To assume makes an ass out of u and me? Is that right? The moment he’d finished forming that thought, as he rounded the final corner, a flash of red drew alongside him. The run to the line was nothing but a drag race. Jeongguk was certain he’d done enough. But at the very last minute, Kim Taehyung’s Stallion surged ahead, beating him by a nose.

“Holy shit, that was close!” Seokjin reflected to Yoongi.

“Yeah. But you got the fastest lap,” Yoongi told him.

Admittedly, Seokjin felt the sting of not winning, especially since he’d been so close. But the fastest lap was certainly a fine consolation prize.

“Taehyung got it, right?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” Yoongi replied. “By two thousandths of a second. But it’s enough,” the engineer said mildly.

Seokjin’s heart sank when he realised that this would put Kim Taehyung back into the championship lead, demoting him to second place. There were just four points in it. But race wins and championships were often decided by the finest of margins, and Seokjin simply couldn’t afford to be on the wrong side of it.

“That’s P2, Guk. Repeat, P2,” Yeonjun said carefully, his voice betraying the sympathy he felt for his driver and friend after such an incredibly tough fight.

“Thanks, Jjunie. I guess it wasn’t to be, today.” Jeongguk’s voice was small and pale-sounding. Definitely unlike his usual exuberance.

“Kim Taehyung, you have WON the Korean Grand Prix!” Hyungsik bellowed.

The last few corners had been so full of action that Taehyung hadn’t even had the chance to let things sink in. He’d won. He’d won! In front of his family, too. Oh, that felt so sweet.

“Yahooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” he yelped, his normally dark voice rising to a fevered falsetto. “I fucking did it!”

Hyungsik’s laughter broke through. “Maybe try swearing less, Tae. You know the FIA are trying to clamp down on that.”

“Oh. Sorry, Mr. Bang Sihyuk, I got a little carried away,” Taehyung added cheekily. “Please forgive me.”

“I’m sure he will,” Hyungsik laughed. “Especially given you’re a Korean driver and you’ve just won the Korean Grand Prix. Not only that, you’re back in the championship lead.”

“Whoa,” Taehyung breathed. He hadn’t even given a thought to that. Doing the math in his mind, he quickly realised that Hyungsik was right. “Four points?” he asked.

“Yep. Four points.”

“It’s not much…”

“But you won today’s race by two thousandths of a second. Fine margins or not, you’re ahead. Now bring it back safely, OK?”

Taehyung did precisely as he was told.

Bursting out of the car once he’d parked it in the winner’s spot, Taehyung rushed over to his team. His mother and father had pushed their way to the front, with his siblings off to one side.

“We’re so proud of you, Taehyung!” his father had sobbed, hugging his son tightly.

“I don’t have any fingernails left,” his mother admitted, giggling.

Taehyung beckoned his brother and sister to the front and hugged them, too. “Thanks for being here for me,” he murmured.

“Anytime,” his sister replied. “I’ll definitely have bragging rights at university next week!”

Taehyung threw back his head and laughed. As he brought his attention back to the group of Stallions personnel, one particular smile caught his eye. “Jimin!” he called.

Jimin’s face lit up. “Taehyung!”

“Where’s my winner’s kiss?” he pouted, eliciting a hearty laugh from his family.

Jimin blushed. “Well, I thought…” gesturing toward Taehyung’s relatives.

Taehyung rolled his eyes and pulled Jimin into an enormous, sweaty hug. Leaning back just a little, he dove in for a kiss. “They’re all adults, Jimin. They’ve seen people kiss before,” he murmured as they reluctantly pulled apart.

As Taehyung was pulled away to attend the podium ceremony, he glanced back at his family. He was enormously gratified to see Jimin in animated conversation with his mother. Something comforting and warm settled deep in his heart.

In the cool-down room, Jeongguk made a beeline for Taehyung the moment he arrived. “Congratulations,” he mumbled, offering his hand to shake. “That was a fantastic battle, and you got the best of me, this time.”

Seokjin watched on in astonishment. Jeongguk had been savagely beaten to the win he’d wanted so much. He hadn’t known what to expect from his boyfriend. But this certainly wasn’t it. A smile spread over his face as he discovered a newfound respect for Jeongguk.

“You pushed me right to the very end,” Taehyung acknowledged, grinning. “Thanks for making me work so hard. It’s a pleasure racing with you,” he finished, patting Jeongguk on the shoulder. “And you, too, Seokjin,” he added, moving over to the older driver. “Thought you were going to take us both, for a while there.”

Seokjin gave a wry smile. “Didn’t have what it took, today,” he said honestly. “You do know, Taehyung, that I’ll be wanting my championship lead back?”

Taehyung smirked. “You’ll have to fight me for it,” he teased.

The Korean and Italian anthems were played, the champagne was sprayed, and the three drivers were ushered into the press conference. Much was made of the fact that Taehyung was now in the championship lead – but much was also made of the fact that it was still incredibly close, with only three race weekends left to go. All three drivers made it clear that they would do whatever was necessary to get their hands on that trophy.

Although Seokjin’s words felt a little hollow, at least to himself.

When at last they were released, Taehyung sprinted back to the hospitality area where the whole Stallions team were gathered, waiting for him. Lifting Taehyung into the air, they took a team photo. Vernon had finished a respectable fifth. As ever, though, he was right there to congratulate his teammate and friend. Once the photos were taken, the party began. Taehyung took a moment to speak to everyone in the team, thanking them for their hard work and support. Every time he would glance over at Jimin, he was laughing happily with Taehyung’s family. Given that this was their first time meeting Jimin as his boyfriend, Taehyung was thrilled to see how well it appeared to be going.

A soft touch to his elbow made him whirl around. “Eomma?” he said softly.

“My baby,” she cooed, ruffling his hair in a way that would always make Taehyung feel like he was five years old and his mother’s touch could keep him safe from everything in the world. Glancing over at Jimin, she gave Taehyung a significant look. “He’s the one, isn’t he?” she asked, not bothering to sugarcoat it.

Momentarily, Taehyung was taken aback. He hadn’t expected his mother to be this direct.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’ve known for a little while, now.”

“He adores you, Tae. And you clearly adore him. Don’t be a fool, now. Make sure he knows how much he means to you.”

“I tell him every single day,” Taehyung murmured.

“Ah, maybe,” his mother laughed. “But have you shown him? Does he know that his is the face you see in all your potential futures?”

Taehyung thought for a moment. As much as he was certain of what was in his heart, he really couldn’t be sure of that. “I’m not sure, Eomma,” he admitted.

His mother’s lips quirked up into an indulgent smile. “My Taehyung. You’ve always been such a kind, loving boy. I trust that you’ll know what to do. But don’t let this one slip through your fingers or you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

His eyes were irrevocably drawn to where Jimin stood, laughing at one of Taehyung’s father’s jokes. An image arose in his mind of himself and Jimin, greying and a little thicker around the waist, kissing each other goodnight at the end of a long day. Taehyung knew, with utmost certainty, that he could never want anything more than that.

Not even the World Driver’s Championship.

Chapter Text

Dragging himself into wakefulness through a thick fog of fatigue, Namjoon briefly wondered whether he was getting too old for all of this. Checking his Rolex, he noticed that they were eight hours into their eleven hour flight to Las Vegas. The rapid turnarounds got tougher as the season went on, Namjoon mused. Especially when they’d lost the last two races in a row to Kim Taehyung. Three, if one counted the sprint. The thing that hurt the most about that was the fact that Taehyung had literally just returned from injury. He should have been compromised, maybe a little cautious. But Kim Taehyung seemed to have never heard those words, let alone know the meaning of them.

Yoongi stirred in the reclined seat beside him, murmuring something unintelligible. A rush of affection flooded Namjoon as he glanced over at the engineer’s sleeping form. Namjoon was becoming more and more certain that he loved Yoongi. The kind of love he’d searched for his entire life, but hadn’t held much hope of actually finding. Instinctively, he reached out to stroke Yoongi’s soft, dark hair, his heart squeezing when Yoongi nuzzled sleepily into his hand. In that  quiet moment, Namjoon knew that there was no reason to doubt any longer.

So why did Hoseok’s face and voice keep barging into his most intimate thoughts? How was that fair to any of them?

With a quiet sigh, Namjoon pushed his hair back from his face and resolved to try and get some more sleep. Vegas was always a rollercoaster of a race weekend and he was going to need every scrap of energy he had available. All it took was Yoongi’s hand creeping into his and Namjoon fell heavily back into slumber.

*****

Controlling his breathing using an exercise that Jimin himself had taught him, Taehyung carefully inhaled and exhaled as he waited for Jimin to join him at the airport. In for four counts. Hold for four counts. Out for four counts. It had been two and a half days since he last held his boyfriend in his arms, and Taehyung was suffering, craving Jimin’s presence with an intensity that scared him. He hoped that this kind of thing wouldn’t have to happen for too much longer… Well, you’re the one who can do something about it, Taehyung reminded himself, his mother’s words echoing in his ears once more.

“Does he know that his is the face you see in all your potential futures?” Taehyung’s mother had asked, pulling him aside after his spectacular victory in the Korean Grand Prix. In his mind’s eye, Taehyung had seen a clear vision of himself and Jimin in years to come, still loving each other as fiercely as they did in the bloom of their youth. The absolute certainty that had evoked sparked a tender warmth in his heart that Taehyung was still not quite able to come to terms with. It particularly tugged at him when they’d arrived back in Seoul and Jimin had apologetically murmured that he had some things to take care of at his own apartment. At the time, Taehyung had faked a smile and seen him on his way. And yet his heart throbbed painfully as he watched Jimin walk away from him, heading toward the subway entrance.  I really did mean it when I said I was better when he’s around, Taehyung thought sadly. Anyway. Taehyung had a plan. If he managed to execute it well enough, perhaps he’d soon have Jimin around more of the time.

“Taehyung!” Jimin called, startling Taehyung out of his thoughts.

Immediately, Taehyung was on his feet, running toward his love. “Jimin! Oh, God, I missed you so much,” he blurted out as his arms wrapped around Jimin’s waist and his nose found its favourite spot on his boyfriend’s neck.

“It’s only been a couple of days, silly,” Jimin teased affectionately. And yet, his voice was as golden and warm as the summer sun, as exquisitely rich as the scent of roses in their prime. “Anyway, now you’re stuck with me for at least the next eleven hours,” he added cheekily, letting out a tiny squawk when Taehyung squeezed him extra tight.

“Thank Heaven for that,” Taehyung murmured. Peppering a smattering of kisses on Jimin’s neck, he trailed them up until he’d captured Jimin’s soft, plump, sweet-tasting lips with his own. The surprised moan Jimin emitted when Taehyung naughtily slipped his tongue between said delicious lips immediately had his blood diverting from its usual course.

“Taehyung,” Jimin murmured in protest as he reluctantly pulled away. “We have a long flight to get through.”

Rolling his eyes, Taehyung released Jimin from his tight hold. “You’re right, Jimin. I wonder how much money it will take to bribe the crew to give us some privacy for a couple of hours- Ow!” Taehyung yelped as Jimin’s tiny but very pointy fist landed in the middle of his left deltoid. “Hey, what happened to being careful with me?” he pouted.

Jimin flashed him an angelic smile. “You’ve won two Grands Prix and a sprint race since then. Not to mention, you’ve performed capably in many other areas. You can take it,” he finished, poking his tongue out and sauntering toward the gate, where the attendant greeted him with a genuine smile. “Safe trip, Mr. Park,” she said as she glanced at his passport once last time. “You too, Mr. Kim,” she added as Taehyung followed closely behind. Surreptitiously, she leaned closer. “If you and Mr. Park are in need of some privacy, it can be arranged,” she whispered conspiratorially.

Taehyung’s eyes widened and his face flushed crimson. He wasn’t quite sure why he was blushing, given the escapades he’d indulged in before he and Jimin had gotten together. And still, Taehyung’s cheeks were on fire. “Uh. Thank you?” he uttered, a little at a loss.

The attendant sent him a cheeky wink.

*****

Seokjin closed his eyes as the plane slowly descended into McCarran International Airport, reliving the meeting between himself and Jeongguk’s mother the evening after the Korean Grand Prix. Rather like her son, she had been kind, gracious and blessed with bright eyes and a winning smile – but there was an air of toughness about her that Seokjin instinctively understood not to cross. Jeongguk’s mother had clearly seen some of the worst that life had to offer. And while it hadn’t turned her hard and unyielding, Seokjin could sense that anyone who hurt her child, deliberately or otherwise, was going to come up against an unstoppable force. Their meeting was all smiles and kind words until Jeongguk excused himself to go to the bathroom. The moment her son was out of earshot, Jeongguk’s mother leaned forward, narrowed her eyes, and stated clearly, “I don’t care who you are or how many world championships you have. If you use my son and throw him away like a piece of trash, I will end you.”

Seokjin had choked on his mouthful of Beaujolais. When he’d finally managed to breathe easily again, he looked Jeongguk’s mother directly in the eyes (so reminiscent of her son’s that it was almost terrifying) and calmly informed her that he had absolutely no intention of throwing Jeongguk away. That he was in love with her son and intended to remain by his side.

Upon hearing those words, Jeongguk’s mother had given him an enigmatic smile, leaned back in her seat and declared, “We’ll have no problems, then. It’s very nice to meet you, Kim Seokjin,” she’d added, holding out her hand for him to shake.

Confused, Seokjin accepted it. Even though they’d greeted each other at the beginning of their meeting.

“Don’t look so worried,” Jeongguk’s mother had laughed. “I’m greeting you properly, because now I understand a bit about who you are and the way you’re going to treat my son. Don’t forget to breathe,” she added teasingly.

Seokjin had never been more grateful for Jeongguk to return from the bathroom. Much to his relief, the rest of the evening had progressed smoothly. Jeongguk’s mother’s scary side stayed hidden. They’d even laughed together. Seokjin was just beginning to relax when Jeongguk stepped away to go and pay the restaurant bill, despite Seokjin’s insistence that he should be the one to pay.

His mother levelled Seokjin with a thoughtful look. “You know, I think you just might be all right, Kim Seokjin,” she said pensively. “Don’t prove me wrong, OK?”

Seokjin had assured her that he wouldn’t.

*****

Las Vegas Strip Circuit, Las Vegas, United States of America

“Jeongguk!” Hoseok called as his driver jogged past him in the pit lane.

“Oh, Hoseok! How’s it going?” he grinned.

Hoseok’s relief was palpable. There was no trace of the tense, strained Jeongguk he’d seen at the beginning of the Korean Grand Prix weekend. Falling into step beside Jeongguk, he clapped him on the back gently. “I just wanted to say how proud I am of the way you handled yourself last Sunday,” he told him quietly. “It takes a lot of guts to stand up and congratulate your opponent after being beaten like that.”

Jeongguk gave him a thin smile. “A lot of it was to do with what you said. Although it took a little while to sink in,” he admitted. “I managed to beat him to pole position, but the race was another story. I gave it everything I had and he still beat me.”

Jeongguk’s shoulders slumped a little upon saying that. Hoseok’s brow furrowed with concern and he was about to speak when he realised that Jeongguk wasn’t done.

“But I’m not even in my prime, yet. One day, I’ll have the measure of Kim Taehyung. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or any time soon. But one day, I will,” he vowed, the quiet intensity in his voice leaving Hoseok in no doubt of the truth in his words.

“Sounds as though you’re pretty sorted, then,” Hoseok grinned. “But if you have a wobble, or just want to talk at any time, you know where to find me.”

Jeongguk’s smile lit up his face. “I sure do. Thank you,” he grinned before jogging off again.

The garish lights of Las Vegas weren’t exactly to Kim Seokjin’s particular taste. However, the track very definitely was, his slew of pole positions and wins making him rather more kindly disposed to the décor. He knew it would be incredibly difficult to keep both Jeongguk and Taehyung behind him here – although Taehyung had been uncharacteristically subdued in the first Free Practice session, only putting in a time that was good enough for tenth place. Seokjin had no doubt that the current championship leader would pull out all the stops for qualifying and the race. After a quick debrief with Yoongi, Seokjin noticed Namjoon sneaking toward his office. Clearly, the boss had something on his mind. Despite the fact that their relationship was rather less hands-on than it had once been, Seokjin’s curiosity was piqued. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to let Namjoon know that he was available to talk. They were still friends, right?

Seokjin tiptoed after Namjoon, glancing left and right to make sure nobody was following him. Knocking lightly on the door of Namjoon’s office, Seokjin didn’t wait before opening it.

Namjoon’s head rested in his hands. Seokjin’s first thought was that his boss looked exhausted. Before he had a chance to formulate any more thoughts, Namjoon’s head snapped up in surprise.

“Jin!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Seokjin slid into one of the chairs on the opposite side of Namjoon’s desk. “I followed you, Joon,” he admitted quietly. “I’m worried about you.”

Namjoon visibly winced. Was he really that bad at hiding his feelings? Or was it just that Seokjin knew him better than most people did? “I’m fine,” he protested, knowing full well that Seokjin wouldn’t take that at face value.

“Cut the crap, Joon. You and I both know you’re lying,” Seokjin snapped. “Now, you have two choices. One, you tell me willingly what all these sad looks and sighs are about. Two, I find out on my own and you know I will.”

Namjoon attempted to calm his slightly panicked breathing. “Jin, you have another Free Practice session in an hour,” he protested. “You don’t have time to be worrying about me.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Kim Namjoon. Am I, or am I not, someone who cares about my friends, regardless of whether I have time to worry or not?”

“I guess so-“

“Correct. And you are also correct that I don’t really have time right now to listen to whatever it is you have to say, or failing that, to do any digging of my own.”

Namjoon’s shoulders slumped in relief and he went to speak, but Seokjin cut him off.

“However. I do have time once the on-track sessions are over. How about we have a beer, for old times’ sake?” he asked.

Namjoon knew that Seokjin wasn’t really asking. “Sure,” he acquiesced, knowing it was easier than fighting it.

“I’ll text you a place and time,” Seokjin told him blithely, already rising to his feet.

“Jin!” Namjoon called sharply, causing him to turn around.

“Hmm?”

“Have a good second practice, OK?”

Seokjin smiled, wide and genuine. “Count on it.”

“Hyungsikkie, where am I losing time?” Taehyung asked exasperatedly as yet another attempt at a hot lap failed to put him anywhere near the top of the timesheets.

“Um. Kind of… everywhere, Tae,” Hyungsik explained. “Different places in every run. You’re just not putting the lap together.”

“Damn it,” Taehyung spat. “I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

Hyungsik shared a glance with Jimin. The concern in the engineer’s eyes had Jimin’s heart rate almost doubling. “Is he OK?” Jimin whispered.

“I should be asking you that question,” Hyungsik replied. “Seriously, Jimin, has there been anything strange about Taehyung lately?”

Jimin pursed his lips in thought. “Come to think, he has seemed to have something on his mind. Normally he’d talk to me about it, but this time I think he wants to keep it to himself. I’ll talk to him tonight, see if I can get anything out of him,” he promised Hyungsik.

“Thanks, Jimin,” Hyungsik replied. “He just doesn’t seem quite himself, and I’m worried.”

Hearing Hyungsik say he was worried increased Jimin’s own worries tenfold. He couldn’t help but be concerned about Taehyung – it was kind of his job, as his boyfriend and his performance coach – but knowing that others close to him were feeling the same effectively magnified Jimin’s concerns.

Much later, when they were back in Taehyung’s suite enjoying a room service dinner, Jimin eyed his boyfriend carefully. Taehyung was smiling, even laughing. Outwardly, he appeared normal. But Jimin noticed that the smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes, a slightly worried look remaining in those fathomless dark brown pools. Placing a gentle hand on Taehyung’s, he cleared his throat. “TaeTae?”

“Hmm?”

“I hate having to ask this question, but I need to… Tell me honestly, my love, is there anything on your mind?”

Taehyung bit his lip somewhat guiltily. “Um… not really, Jimin,” he said, not quite able to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. “Just the usual race weekend stuff, I guess.”

Oh shit, I hope my lie was convincing enough, Taehyung thought, panicked. He hadn’t realised his preoccupied state was so obvious… Forcing a smile that he hoped looked genuine enough, he began clearing away the plates for want of anything better to do.

“Tae.”

“Yeah?”

“You know the hotel staff will do that, right?”

Taehyung cursed himself internally. Making up something on the fly, he stated, “I just want to make their job a little easier. They spend their entire lives running around after rich assholes like me,” he added wryly.

Jimin laughed heartily, his adorably crooked front tooth on full display. “You may be rich, Kim Taehyung, but you are definitely not an asshole,” he declared, smiling in such a ravishing manner that Taehyung was amazed it didn’t melt him right there on the spot.

Taehyung’s hand instinctively flew to his own cheek. Just as he expected. Warm. He’d thought Jimin was the bigger blusher between the two of them, but he’d been discovering lately that he was just as bad. Yet another reason why you need to throw him off the scent, Taehyung reminded himself. Although he wasn’t certain that Jimin had actually let the subject go, his boyfriend was kind enough not to push it any further for the rest of the evening. A rather pensive Taehyung found himself desperate to cuddle, to make himself small in Jimin’s arms as they watched a movie. Later, when they were in bed, he tentatively asked Jimin if he would mind being the big spoon. “I just feel like being held,” he admitted.

“You never have to justify that to me,” Jimin told him as he curled himself into all the spaces around Taehyung’s tired body. “I’ll hold you whenever you want.”

A field of wildflowers bloomed in Taehyung’s heart as Jimin’s words melted into him. I hope you really mean that, was his final thought before he was overtaken by sleep.

*****

As he prepared to get into his car for the qualifying hour, Jeongguk wondered, yet again, if he would ever get used to the feeling of possibility that clung to this time in a race weekend. Vegas was a little different – qualifying was on the Friday evening and the race was on Saturday night – but still, the thrum of excitement and fear was every bit the same as anywhere else. Weirdly, as he was strapped into his cockpit and guided out of the garage, Jeongguk found his mind wandering to the dinner he and Seokjin had enjoyed with his mother. It had seemed to go well, from Jeongguk’s perspective. His mother had certainly had nothing but positive things to say about Seokjin in the conversations they’d had since. Given that he was the first boyfriend Jeongguk had ever introduced to his mother, and also, the boyfriend he wanted to keep forever, it had been an enormous relief that they’d gotten along as well as they had.

It was only when Jeongguk was getting ready to cross the start/finish line for his first hot lap that he actually took note of the idle thoughts rushing through his mind. Yes, he did want to keep Seokjin forever. Desperately, in fact. Intellectually, he knew that it would be incredibly difficult to sustain a relationship with both of them fighting for positions in races and the overall championship. The fire of competition ignited once more inside his chest. As he’d noted on many occasions, while he loved Seokjin, he was still desperate to beat him. In truth, Jeongguk held a growing determination to beat all of Seokjin’s records, no matter how lofty. Championships. Race wins. Fastest laps.

Yes, he wanted all of that. But what he wanted most of all was for Seokjin to continue loving him.

The dissonance wasn’t easy to sit with.

“Well done, Guk. That’s P1 at the end of the first qualifying session,” Yeonjun told him, pride sneaking into his tone.

Jeongguk pumped his fist in sheer relief. He’d done most of that session on autopilot while his mind was otherwise occupied. So it was an immense relief to know that he’d still done a decent job.

“Where’s Jin?” he asked instinctively.

“P2.”

“And Taehyung?”

“P14,” Yeonjun said quietly. “Half a tenth from the knockout zone.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows shot up, and a slightly sick feeling lurched in his gut. He’d noticed that Taehyung wasn’t as fast as usual during practice, but he’d still expected the Stallions driver to put up a solid fight for pole position today. “Ah well, as they always say, as long as you’re in, you still have a chance,” Jeongguk mused.

“P2, Jin,” Yoongi drawled. “Nice lap. Still some time to find.”

“Yeah, I feel like I can take the flowing section between turns 9 and 12 almost fully flat,” Seokjin murmured.

“Oh really?” Yoongi queried, mirth creeping into his voice. “You really wanna risk that?”

“Do you really wanna ask The King whether he wants to risk something, hmm?” Seokjin teased.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Yoongi quipped. “Time to get ready for Q2.”

Seokjin wasn’t quite brave enough to keep his foot flat to the floor in the second part of qualifying. But he did get substantially closer to doing just that, finding himself at the top of the times as the session came to an end.

“That’s P1, Jin. Great effort,” Yoongi’s voice flooded his ears.

“Still one more session to go. Let’s not count our chickens just yet,” he teased. “Where’s Guk?”

“P2, one tenth behind you. Followed by Kim Mingyu, who is having another spectacular weekend.”

“Nice one, Mingyu!” Seokjin murmured. “What about Kim Taehyung?”

Yoongi sighed. “Your eternal nemesis finds himself in P9. He almost didn’t make it through.”

A near-painful feeling surged through Seokjin. What is going on with him? he wondered, hoping desperately that Taehyung wasn’t simply falling away from the championship fight rather later than usual. Seokjin was weirdly invested, now. He wanted Taehyung to fight for it until the very last lap of the very last race. “Hmm,” he uttered.

“Hmm, indeeed,” Yoongi agreed. “Anyway, Jin, there’s no time to worry about your competitors. Head down.”

But Taehyung isn’t just another competitor, Seokjin reminded himself.

Yoongi was right, however. Although Seokjin wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. There was no time to worry about his competition when he had a pole position lap to find.

“I didn’t make it to Q3, did I?” Taehyung drawled despondently, ending with a heavy sigh. “Be honest.”

“Tae, you’re in P9,” Hyungsik replied quickly. “Get your act together because we’ve got more work to do.”

“Oh,” Taehyung uttered. Frankly, he was in shock that such a terrible lap could still put him into the top ten shootout. “Um. I guess I’d better bring it back, then.”

Over the last twelve minutes of qualifying, Kim Taehyung found himself wondering whether he’d completely forgotten how to drive a Formula 1 car. Oversteer at one corner, understeer at the next. Missing apexes all over the place. Not getting the power down in time to get the most out of the straights. After the first run was completed, he knew without even asking Hyungsik that he’d be squarely at the bottom of the pile. When his engineer confirmed over the radio that Taehyung was indeed P10, all he could do was huff out a sardonic laugh. If he wanted to be any closer to the front than the fifth row, Taehyung had to hustle.

Jeongguk’s foot was flat to the floor as he rounded the final gentle curve and flashed over the line. He knew it had been a good lap. One of his best, in fact. But would it be enough?

“That’s P1 as it stands, Gukkie,” Yeonjun confirmed.

“Cool,” Jeongguk replied calmly, knowing that nothing was certain yet. Keeping an eye on the screens as he peeled into his cool down lap, Jeongguk was shocked to see Kim Taehyung’s name with P8 beside it. Eighth? he mouthed in disbelief. Jeongguk supposed that points were given out after the race and not after qualifying, but all the same, it was a definite surprise. Indeed he was so preoccupied by Taehyung’s lowly qualifying position that at first, he didn’t notice his own name being replaced at the top.

“Sorry, Guk,” Yeonjun cut into his thoughts. “Jin beat you to pole.”

Disappointment ripped through him, settling uncomfortably in his gut. It took Jeongguk the rest of the cool down lap to come to terms with the fact that it was his boyfriend who’d pipped him to the post, and a part of him was happy about that. Well, happy for Jin, in any case. He could still be miserable for himself. There was no law against it.

Taehyung’s mood deflated as he took in Hyungsik’s words. Eighth position. Well, he supposed it was better than tenth… Fourth row instead of fifth. Only seven cars between himself and the win. It was going to be a tough ask, especially considering he hadn’t been anywhere near the pace this weekend. But Taehyung wasn’t going to give up. For once, he was relieved to get out of the car. Pushing himself out of his cockpit, he ambled over to the media pen to give a few short interviews. There wasn’t much to say, really. Taehyung was aware that he probably came across as aloof and unlikeable today, but frankly, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Jimin waited quietly, slightly away from the media, hoping Taehyung could feel the calming effect of his presence. The very moment Taehyung finished his last interview, his fiery eyes met Jimin’s and he couldn’t stop himself from running over to take his boyfriend into his arms.

“Jiminie, I fucked up.” Taehyung whimpered as he cradled Jimin against his sweaty chest, his voice cracking under the weight of the pressure of fighting for the championship. “I just couldn’t put the lap together. It felt like I’d forgotten how to drive,” he uttered darkly.

“It’s OK, Tae. It’s OK,” Jimin told him quietly. His small hands stroked up and down Taehyung’s back in a soothing motion. “You wanna go back to the hotel? I think you could really make some use of that jacuzzi tonight,” he suggested. Jimin idly mused to himself that it was a definite perk of being Taehyung’s boyfriend that he got to stay with him in one of the suites at the MGM Grand, now that they’d given up the pretence of having separate rooms while away to race…

“Only if you promise to join me,” Taehyung murmured.

Jimin knew instinctively that there wasn’t any sexual intent in Taehyung’s words, this time. He simply craved the easy companionship of the pair of them sharing the same space. Jimin was more than happy to give him that. Perhaps he’d guide Taehyung through a meditation later, if he was willing.

Still, no matter what other thoughts Jimin distracted himself with, he couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that whatever was on Taehyung’s mind was having a far greater effect than his boyfriend was willing to admit.

*****

Jeongguk dragged another harsh breath up from the depths of his ribcage, his hand pressing heavily on the back of Seokjin’s head where it rested between his legs. Given that it had been a while since Seokjin’s last pole position, Jeongguk had forgotten just how much it turned up his freak dial. They’d barely made it back to the room before Seokjin was practically tearing Jeongguk’s shorts and boxers off and pushing him down on to the sofa, where he proceeded to suck his soul out through his dick. No wonder Jeongguk was struggling to breathe.

“Jin! Stop!” he uttered harshly as the lava in the pit of his stomach threatened to overflow.

Seokjin pulled off and gazed at him quizzically. “You don’t want to come? But I wanna make you come,” he pouted, pushing his luscious lips out. 

Jeongguk almost laughed at the absurdity of the scene. Three-time World Driver’s Champion Kim Seokjin on his knees, lips red and wet, eyes smouldering with desire and practically begging to be allowed to suck his lover to completion. “Not yet,” he told his pouting boyfriend. “I want you to feel good, too.”

Seokjin’s eyes softened and he glanced down at the prominent bulge in his own shorts.

“What do you want, Jin?” Jeongguk asked, tilting Seokjin’s chin up to ensure their eyes met.

“I want…” Seokjin’s words trailed off into something inaudible.

“Jin,” Jeongguk said patiently, “You’ll have to speak a little clearer than that.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes and spoke again, this time clearly enunciating every word. “I. Want. You. To. Fuck. Me. Please.”

Smirking, Jeongguk pulled Seokjin into his lap, curling his arms around his lover’s waist. “Since you asked so nicely, how could I refuse?” he whispered directly into Seokjin’s ear, delighting in the way it made him shudder.

After he’d fucked Seokjin through two orgasms and a spectacularly explosive one of his own, Jeongguk gazed down at the reigning World Champion who was currently fast asleep in his arms, snoring softly. “You need someone to take care of you, don’t you?” he whispered lovingly. “You don’t always have to take charge, Jin. I’ll look after you just as much as you look after me.”

Seokjin’s brow furrowed in his sleep as he muttered something in a language only he could understand. Jeongguk smiled, gently stroking Seokjin’s hair until his face had returned to its usual serene beauty.

For a moment, at least.

Jerking back into wakefulness, Seokjin grabbed his phone in a panic. “What time is it? Oh shit, I’ve gotta go,” he told a bewildered Jeongguk before he practically sprinted through the shower and got dressed in record time.

“Jin, where are you going?” Jeongguk asked as a Seokjin-shaped blur barrelled out the door with a call of, “Be back in an hour or so!”

Stepping into The Vault at the Bellagio, Seokjin allowed his eyes to rest on the genteel, plush décor and found himself thinking that this was much more to his taste. Namjoon waved from a small booth in the far corner which was largely shielded from prying eyes and ears. I seem to have a habit of meeting with people in bars, he mused to himself as he slid into the opposite side of the booth. Seokjin was pleasantly surprised to see that Namjoon had ordered him a pint of his favoured beer. Well, some things never changed…

“Hi, Joon.”

“Hi, Jin.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Seokjin murmured apologetically. “Got a little bit caught up.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Celebrating your pole position?”

Seokjin’s cheeks flushed. “You could say that. Anyway, we’re not here to talk about me,” he deflected.

The knowing look on Namjoon’s face informed Seokjin that his ex-lover was privy to a few too many of his secrets. But they weren’t here for that. Cocking his head to one side and resting it on a hand, Seokjin dove right into the reason they were meeting in a basement bar after midnight.

“Joon, you don’t look good.”

“Oh, thank you, Jin-“ Namjoon snapped sarcastically.

“No, don’t be silly, I don’t mean like that. You’re as handsome as you’ve always been,” Seokjin corrected him. “But you look… I don’t know, haunted, or something. I can’t help but worry about you,” he admitted. “The fact that you cancelled our planned meeting last night also had me worried,” he finished, looking up to meet Namjoon’s eyes.

The team principal’s imposing features scrunched into a silly expression. “I was busy,” he said shyly, the tips of his nose and ears blushing a delicate pink.

“Fucking Yoongi, you mean?” Seokjin wasn’t beating about the bush.

“Um. Yeah,” Namjoon clarified, turning even pinker.

“So what’s the problem, then? You and Yoongi seem really into each other. I’d make some comment about workplace relationships, but people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones et cetera…” Seokjin trailed off.

Several different emotions journeyed across Namjoon’s face before he next opened his mouth to speak. When he did, he looked Seokjin squarely in the eye and said one word only.

“Hoseok.”

“For fucksake, Namjoon, how many times are you dipping your pen into the company inkwell? Other people do exist,” Seokjin blurted out in exasperation.

Namjoon’s head had fallen into his hands, his posture crumpled. “Hoseok and I… We had a thing, for a while. It was casual. At least, it was for him, I guess. I was falling for him,” Namjoon admitted sadly. “And then Yoongi happened to find out that the man he wanted to make his boyfriend was also fucking me. So that was awkward,” Namjoon laughed dryly.

“Shit,” Seokjin murmured under his breath. “That’s messy.”

“Yeah, and then it got even more messy when Yoongi and I decided to get revenge on Hoseok,” Namjoon sighed. He detailed their plans, and how they’d gone spectacularly awry by virtue of the fact that they’d fallen for each other along the way. “So you’d think we’d have a fairytale ending, right? We got revenge on the man who wronged both of us and ended up together in the process.”

Seokjin regarded him with scepticism. “Clearly it’s not that simple. So what, exactly, are we dealing with here?”

Namjoon groaned, thumping his head lightly on the wooden table. “I still love Hoseok. And I also love Yoongi. What the fuck do I do with that, Jin?”

Seokjin didn’t have any answers. Instead, he patted Namjoon’s back in mute solidarity as they both silently contemplated his crisis.

Over a second beer, Seokjin realised that there was no better time to discuss with Namjoon what had been on his mind, lately.

“You really mean this, Jin?” Namjoon asked incredulously once Seokjin had finished talking.

“I think so, Joon,” Seokjin murmured. “I might still change my mind, but it seems less likely with every passing day,” he admitted.

Namjoon’s eyes met Seokjin’s, steady and calm as ever, despite the seriousness of what Seokjin had just imparted to him. “Just keep me posted, all right? I trust you to make the right decision for yourself.”

As they parted ways later that night, Seokjin felt sure that some of the heaviness had moved from his shoulders. Just enough to allow him to breathe.

*****

“Jimin,” Taehyung murmured as soon as his eyes opened on the morning of race day, “Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?”

Jimin cocked his head. “Good morning to you too,” he laughed. “Of course, Tae. What did you have in mind?”

Sleepily, Taehyung stretched his arms out wide, catching Jimin between them and squeezing. “I wanted to take you out to lunch somewhere fancy,” he admitted, not quite meeting Jimin’s quizzical gaze. “What do you say?”

Slightly taken aback, Jimin blinked a few times. “Sure, baby. I’d love that. But why are you being so formal this early in the morning?” He couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that escaped him.

“Do I need a reason to take my gorgeous boyfriend out on a fancy date?” Taehyung bluffed, hoping that Jimin wouldn’t pick up on his nervousness.

Grinning warmly, Jimin shook his head. “You can take me out on a fancy date whenever you want, sweetheart,” he informed Taehyung, leaning in for a few sleepy morning kisses to sweeten the deal.

Taehyung’s heart rate began to settle as he lost himself in Jimin’s embrace. The plan was in place, now he simply had to execute it. There was also the small matter of a Grand Prix to complete, first…

*****

Jeongguk thanked Hoseok warmly as he brought himself back into the room after a visualisation exercise. No longer jumbled and tripping over each other, Jeongguk’s thoughts were organised, tidy, and clear. Rather than a vague idea that he had to win, he could now see in his mind’s eye precisely what he needed to do to make that happen.

Lining up beside Seokjin at the start, Jeongguk calmly ran through the visualisation in his mind once more. The sound of revving engines faded into obscurity as his focus narrowed to only one thing. As all twenty cars shot off the line, Jeongguk hooked up the perfect start and surged alongside Seokjin into the abrupt first corner. Keeping his foot in just that little bit longer, Jeongguk was able to brake a tiny bit later than Seokjin, thus beating him to the apex and winning the corner.

“See ya later,” Jeongguk laughed to himself as he attempted to sail off into the distance. However, yellow began flashing on his dash and on the screens around the track.

“That’s a yellow flag, Guk,” Yeonjun called over the radio. “Crash further back.”

“Everyone OK?” Jeongguk asked instinctively.

“Looks that way. Kim Taehyung didn’t get away well and Xu Minghao wiped him out. They both walked away, though.”

Kim Taehyung is out of the race? Jeongguk realised with a jolt that if the positions stayed as they were, Seokjin would go back into the championship lead and he would only be four points behind.

“Calm down, Guk,” he told himself quietly. “You have a whole race to get through before you can count those particular chickens.” Blinking a few times, he replayed Hoseok’s visualisation in his mind as he slowed down for the Virtual Safety Car.

By some miracle, the stricken Stallion and Wilkins hadn’t managed to strew debris all over the track and were able to be recovered quickly. So Jeongguk’s lead was fairly safe when the VSC was revoked and racing began again. He had been absolutely ready for it, however, and this time was able to zoom off into the distance leaving Seokjin a whole second behind before the end of the fifth racing lap.

“What the hell?” Seokjin had screeched inside his helmet at the race start as Jeongguk powered past him into the first corner. I nailed my start, for heaven’s sake! Guk must have a rocket in the back of that car! By the time the Virtual Safety Car had been thrown, Seokjin had come to terms with the fact that he’d lost the lead to his boyfriend, and was scheming various ways of getting it back. Though the news that the VSC had been caused by a crash involving Taehyung had him feeling rather unsettled. With only two race weekends left after this one, the situation was a massive blow to Taehyung’s championship aspirations.

And a massive advantage for yours, Seokjin couldn’t help but think.

Though Kim Seokjin was a masterful schemer, nothing he did on track that day could get him into the lead. Jeongguk was simply too strong. Pride and shame warred inside Seokjin as he crossed the line in second place. The same thought that had been gnawing at the edges of his mind for a while nagged at him once again. Perhaps it was really time to admit that which he had most feared.

“P1, Gukkie! What a fantastic drive today!” Yeonjun crowed ecstatically as screens all around the track lit up with a picture of Jeongguk’s smiling face.

“YES! I did it! I won!!” Jeongguk screeched. Elated, he realised that with Taehyung’s non-score and beating Seokjin, he’d brought himself firmly back into the championship hunt. He’d really done it.

*****

A very grumpy Taehyung submitted to the mandatory medical checks. Although he’d rather have been anywhere else. Furious with himself for what he saw as a foolish lack of attention at the start, his anger threatened to devour him whole if he didn’t manage to defuse it quickly. When the doctor was finally giving him a clean bill of health and was about to send him on his way, a panting, sweaty Jimin burst into the room.

“TaeTae!” he cried out, gasping for breath in a way that suggested he’d sprinted the entire way to the medical centre from the Stallions garage. “Are you OK? Doctor, how is he?”

“He’s fine. Best you ask him, not me,” the doctor chuckled.

“I really am fine, love,” Taehyung reassured Jimin, opening his arms for a hug.

Jimin almost knocked him over in his haste to be in his embrace. “My whole life flashed before my eyes when I saw Minghao’s car plough right into yours… Thank God you’re all right. But… your shoulder? Tell me it’s not hurt again!”

Taehyung realised that Jimin was crying and his heart threatened to split right down the centre. “Hey, Jimin. Look at me, hmm?” he murmured, tilting Jimin’s face up so that they could lock eyes. “I’m completely fine, even my shoulder. I’ll have a few bruises but that’s all. The Doc says I can do everything as normal. So please, baby, don’t cry,” he pleaded, his voice meltingly tender as he stroked Jimin’s tear-tracked cheek.

Taehyung’s overpowering anger at his own stupidity had been completely usurped by the intensity of his love for Jimin, the sweet stickiness of it seeping into every pore of his body. Frankly, everything else was just noise that he could gladly tune out. Even the fact that he might have just thrown away the championship...

An idea flashed into his mind and he immediately had to give voice to it.

“Jiminie. As I’m kind of done for the day, now, do you want to move our date up to tonight instead? I’ll tell Seojoon that any debrief can wait until later. It’s not like we need to do a thorough post-mortem of what caused the crash. And frankly, I could use the distraction,” Taehyung smirked. “So, what do you say?”

Jimin blinked twice, then his face broke into a joyful grin. “Yes please, Tae. I’d love to,” he replied, squeezing his boyfriend into an even warmer hug.

Back at the hotel, they shared a shower and quickly dressed in the finest clothes they’d brought with them. Jimin stunned in a deep red velvet blazer over a cream silk shirt and skin-tight black jeans, and Taehyung wore a mid-grey jacket over a white shirt with dark grey trousers and a matching tie, his classic handsomeness the perfect foil to Jimin’s opulent look.

Having made a couple of quick phone calls while Jimin was in the bathroom, Taehyung patted his pockets to be sure he had everything he needed before escorting Jimin down to the hotel lobby. A black stretch limousine awaited them, the driver jumping out to open the door as soon as he spotted Taehyung walking toward him.

“Mr. Kim, Mr. Park. Good evening,” the man said, his voice low and sweet.

“After you, my love,” Taehyung gestured for Jimin to get into the vehicle first.

Jimin’s bright eyes and excited laughter had Taehyung’s stomach lurching with pure happiness.

The journey was short, as most were on the Las Vegas Strip. But it was long enough for Taehyung to become transfixed by the way the flashing neon lights painted Jimin’s face in myriad colours and sparkled in his eyes. His boyfriend may have been lost in the lights of Las Vegas, but Taehyung was lost in everything that was Park Jimin.

“We’re here,” the driver informed them as he pulled into the turning circle of Paris. Putting the limousine in park, he jumped out to open the door for Taehyung and Jimin. Thanking him, they bade the driver farewell. Taehyung placed a gentle hand on the small of Jimin’s back and led him confidently through the casino. Such a beautiful couple were bound to draw whispers and admiring glances. But still, nobody dared to disturb them as they made their way to a specific elevator.

Jimin’s eyes widened as he realised where they were going. “You’re taking me to the Eiffel Tower restaurant?” he whispered excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to come here!”

“One day I’ll take you to see the real thing. But for now, here we are,” Taehyung grinned as the elevator ascended.

“Good evening, Mr. Kim, Mr. Park,” the maître d' greeted them warmly, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“Thank you for changing our reservation at such short notice,” Taehyung said quietly.

“It’s no trouble. May I just say that I’m sorry about what happened…” the man offered apologetically.

Taehyung shrugged. “It’s racing,” he quipped. His tone made it clear the subject was closed.

“Indeed. Let me show you to your table,” the man replied softly, indicating for them to follow him.

Jimin gasped aloud as they were seated at right angles to each other at an intimate table in the corner, right by the enormous windows that lent them an ideal view of the Bellagio fountains.

Taehyung couldn’t help but feel pleased with his choice.

“Tae, it’s so pretty! I might even forget to eat…”

“You’d better not, Jiminie. The food here is delicious,” Taehyung teased.

Delicious it was, indeed. Jimin was even able to tear his attention away from the exquisite view to enjoy it. But then the magnetic pull of Taehyung’s hooded, adoring gaze dragged him into its orbit and he had to be reminded again.

“Jiminie, are you going to eat that? It’s going cold,” Taehyung teased lightly, indicating the two or three mouthfuls he had left on his plate.

“Oh,” Jimin uttered, his cheeks turning rosy as he realised that he’d been staring. “Sorry!”

Taehyung’s deep chuckle seemed to vibrate through Jimin’s entire body. “Baby, never apologise for looking at me like that.”

Jimin bit his lip and looked shyly down at his plate. Was he ever going to stop blushing around his boyfriend? At least Taehyung likes it, he reminded himself, happiness flooding through him as Taehyung secretly squeezed his knee underneath the table.

“Wow!” Jimin gasped as the fountains began their half-hourly show. It’s only water, why is it so mesmerising? he found himself thinking. Feeling Taehyung’s hand clasp around his own, their fingers interlacing, Jimin allowed himself to give in to the giddiness of it all. Although it’s not quite as mesmerising as him, his mind helpfully supplied. With an internal sigh, Jimin accepted that he was a lost cause when it came to Kim Taehyung. Gently, uncaring of the fact that they were in public, he laid his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of Taehyung’s body seep into his own.

“We’re having dessert, by the way,” Taehyung murmured. “I’m not passing up that opportunity.”

Jimin giggled quietly, silenced only by Taehyung stealing a quick peck from his lips. Humming, he chased Taehyung’s mouth, but his love pulled away.

“Later,” he whispered, his large hand creeping up to Jimin’s thigh and squeezing gently.

After they’d spoon-fed each other the most decadent desserts, muffling their enamoured giggles and ignoring the glances of the other patrons, Taehyung downed the last of his champagne and signalled for the bill. Whisking it away so that Jimin couldn’t see it, he placed his black credit card down and moved the folder to the edge of the table. Turning his full focus back on Jimin, he smiled warmly.

“Do you wanna go for a little walk after this? Might help with the digestion,” Taehyung suggested.

I’d do anything you asked, Jimin thought. Gathering himself together, he managed to reply in the affirmative.

As they stepped out into the balmy night air, clasping each other’s hands like a lifeline, Jimin pondered the fact that he had never been this happy. His heart was light, his chest full of something soft, warm and sticky. He’d never even imagined he could feel this kind of all-encompassing love for another person. And to find it with someone who’d been a part of his life for years already…

“Penny for your thoughts?” Taehyung murmured as they waited at the crosswalk.

“Just… Happy,” Jimin shrugged. He was unable to stop his lips from turning up at the corners, his eyes from squeezing into joyous little crescents.

Taehyung’s nerves settled a little upon receiving Jimin’s response. Perhaps what he was about to do wouldn’t be quite so scary after all. Leading Jimin confidently, Taehyung stopped right in front of the Bellagio fountains. “Thought you might want to see them from up close, too,” he murmured, slipping his arm around Jimin’s waist and pulling him nearer. Just as he’d finished speaking, the fountains began spurting out graceful arcs, tinted exquisitely by coloured lights. Settling Jimin in front of himself, Taehyung embraced him around the middle and rested his chin snugly on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Hundreds of people milled around, many of them stopping to watch the fountain show. But Taehyung was only aware of the warm, compact body in his arms. The soft hair that tickled his cheek, the rich, floral scent of cologne with an undertone of something that was uniquely Jimin.

If I don’t do this soon I might burst with it, he thought briefly to himself as the fountain show came to an end. Gathering his courage, he decided to proceed.

“Jimin?” he murmured.

“Yeah?” Jimin replied, swivelling around to look at him.

“Oh my God, it’s Kim Taehyung!” a raucous female voice burst in.

Taehyung whirled around to see a tall woman with two shorter friends flanking her. The woman’s rictus grin was smothered in bright red lipstick that Taehyung unkindly thought made her look like she was on a detour from the circus.

“I’m, like, your biggest fan,” the woman gushed. “Can I get a photo?” Without waiting for an answer, she stepped forward and manhandled a shocked Jimin out of the way. Leaning against Taehyung’s shoulder, she posed, pushing her lips out into a mockery of a duck’s face. 

Shocked into silence, Taehyung eventually found his words again. “Excuse me, do you mind? I was busy,” he uttered gruffly, sending an annoyed glance in the woman’s direction.

A panicked look crossed the woman’s face as she glanced between Taehyung and Jimin, followed by a crafty expression. “Oh, you were with your latest plaything,” she simpered. Turning a fake smile on Jimin, she looked him up and down blatantly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We all know you won’t last long.  History tells us that Taehyung never sticks around with anyone past the three-month mark. So enjoy him while you still can,” the woman finished, her smile sickeningly sweet as she gave them a little wave and sauntered away.

Frozen in shock and anger, Taehyung nevertheless noticed Jimin shudder. Whipping around to face him, he immediately clocked the haunted look in his boyfriend’s eyes as he stared at the pavement. “Jiminie,” he whispered, cupping his cheeks with both hands, “Won’t you look at me?”

Raising his eyes to Taehyung’s, Jimin couldn’t stop the half-sob that rose up from his chest.

“Oh, baby,” Taehyung whispered, dragging him infinitely closer. “I’m so sorry that happened. What an awful person,” he spat, eyes fiery and words bitter on his tongue.

“But… she’s right, Tae. I’ve never seen you stay with someone longer than about three months,” Jimin said so quietly that Taehyung almost missed it.

Panic surged from Taehyung’s gut right up to his throat. “Jiminie, listen,” he uttered urgently. This is it, he thought, now is the time. “I asked you out on this date for a reason. And while I didn’t expect the nasty interlude we just had, I don’t think there’s ever going to be a better time for this,” Taehyung declared, voice raw and eyes wild. Meeting Jimin’s gaze with unutterable tenderness, Taehyung couldn’t help but sigh as their eyes locked together. “Jimin, I love you. I know you know that already, and honestly, those words somehow don’t even feel like enough to encompass everything I feel right here,” Taehyung clasped Jimin’s hand and placed it over his heart. “I know it’s still early in our relationship. Believe me, I’ve had this discussion with myself many times. But my mother said something after the Korean Grand Prix that really stuck with me,” he admitted.

Jimin asked a silent question with his eyes. 

Taehyung swallowed. “She asked me if you knew that yours was the face I see in all my potential futures, Jimin.”

“Oh,” Jimin breathed, his mouth falling open.

“Which got me thinking,” Taehyung added, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. “I’m not sure if you do know, honestly. In many ways I have no idea what my future will bring, but one thing is clear – you’re there with me in all of my daydreams,” he said quietly, voice trembling. Slowly, Taehyung brought out a rectangular box covered in rich blue velvet.

Jimin’s eyes flicked frantically between Taehyung’s face and the box, his curiosity threatening to burst.

“There are so many questions I want to ask you, Park Jimin,” Taehyung began, the warmth in his voice shooting straight to Jimin’s heart. “And I hope to ask them all, in good time. But right now, there’s only one thing I need to say.”

Taehyung opened the box to reveal a matching set of white gold bracelets, each bearing a charm with an infinity symbol. Hearing Jimin gasp, he smiled. “Jiminie, my love. Even before we got together, I said that I was always better when you’re around, and I meant it. I just didn’t realise quite how much. When you were staying with me during my recovery, I realised that I never wanted you to leave…. That I never want you to leave.”

Taehyung paused, gathering his thoughts. Jimin stood in quiet anticipation, afraid to say anything that might break the spell.

“I know it’s soon. We’ve only officially been together for two and a half months. But we’ve known each other for a long time. Long enough for me to be sure that I always want you around,” he admitted.

Jimin’s exquisite face tilted toward him like a sunflower, his eyes shining and lips slightly parted.

Taking a deep breath, Taehyung gazed deep into Jimin’s eyes and finally allowed himself to speak the words that had been on his mind for so long already. “Jimin, will you move in with me?”

Jimin gasped, falling forward and steadying himself with a hand on Taehyung’s arm.

“You… want me to live in your house?” he whispered.

A giddy laugh bubbled up from Taehyung’s chest. “Yes, Jimin. I do. Or if you don’t like my house, we can get a new one. I don’t care, as long as you’re there with me,” he added recklessly.

“Oh my God, Taehyung…” Jimin breathed, his gaze falling to land somewhere in the distance.

“Take all the time you need to think about it,” Taehyung rushed out, nerves getting the better of him.

“I’m done thinking,” Jimin declared, his gaze returning to Taehyung’s and his voice firm. “Not that I really had to think that much about it anyway because my heart told me immediately that saying yes was the only possible choice,” he added breathlessly, bringing his hands to rest gently on Taehyung’s shoulders.

“Yes? You mean, you will?” Taehyung uttered quietly, barely daring to believe it.

Heart thudding in his chest so loudly that Jimin could barely hear himself think, he felt his cheeks lift into an even bigger smile, his hands moving from Taehyung’s shoulders to wrap around his waist and pull him impossibly close.

“Yes, Taehyung. I will, I’ll move in with you,” he breathed before closing the tiny distance between their mouths.

As he melted into the kiss, Taehyung’s body and mind were nothing but a riot of vivid colours and sweet sensations. All thoughts of what had happened earlier were banished to the ether. The only thing that mattered right now was that Jimin was here, in his arms, and he’d said yes. Taehyung couldn’t stop his mind from fast-forwarding to another question he planned to ask Jimin, when the time was right. He could only hope he’d say yes to that one, too.

When at last they were able to detach from each other just a little, Taehyung realised that he still had the velvet box in his hand.

“One for you, and one for me,” he murmured conspiratorially. “Hold your hand out for me?”

Jimin did as he was asked, and Taehyung carefully fastened the bracelet around his delicate wrist. “Perfect,” he declared.

“Let me do yours,” Jimin suggested, the sparkle in his eyes feeling dangerous to Taehyung’s health.

Taehyung submitted to Jimin’s attentions, giggling a little as Jimin struggled with the clasp.

“I’m too nervous, my fingers won’t do as they’re told,” Jimin muttered as he finally managed to fasten the bracelet.

“There’s no need to be nervous, love. We’re going to walk a road of happiness together,” Taehyung said, nuzzling his nose against Jimin’s and delighting in his happy laugh.

“We are,” Jimin agreed. “But you know what would make me really happy, right now?” he asked, his eyes taking on a feline cast.

“Tell me.”

“If we could get the hell out of here. There are things I want to do to you that are in no way fit for public consumption.”

“Say no more,” Taehyung laughed, his grin growing even wider.

Straightening up, Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hand and dragged him swiftly back to where their driver was waiting to take them back to the privacy of their suite.

*****

Arriving at the airport far too early on the Sunday after team celebrations that had lasted well into the night, Yoongi rubbed his bleary eyes as he followed Namjoon into the terminal. As the season was drawing to a close, they were gearing up for one final push. Most of the teams and personnel weren’t bothering to head home before flying to the UAE for the final two races, the Silver Bullets included. It was exhausting to be away from home for such a length of time, but less so than flying back to Korea in the midst of it all… In any case, the lifestyle in Doha and Abu Dhabi was rather genteel when one had the money for it. Which Namjoon certainly did. And the taste, too. As independent as his spirit remained, Yoongi still felt incredibly fortunate to be invited along for the ride.

The first sight Yoongi’s barely-focusing eyes landed on, upon entering the airport, happened to be Jung Hoseok.

“Hoba,” he uttered, freezing in place and feeling Namjoon do the same.

“Good morning,” Hoseok joked. “You two look about as good as I feel.”

“Worth it, though,” Namjoon grumbled.

“When’s your flight?” Yoongi blurted out, much to Hoseok’s surprise.

“Uh. In two hours,” he replied.

Yoongi glanced at Namjoon, willing him to read the question in his eyes. After a silent conversation, Namjoon spoke.

“Hoba, would you be interested in joining us on the jet? As we’re going to the same place, and all…” he trailed off nervously.

This telepathy thing is a real trip, Yoongi thought to himself.

Hoseok’s mouth fell open and his eyes darted from Namjoon to Yoongi and back again. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he smiled, slow and careful. “I’d love to,” he admitted. “Much nicer than economy class, that’s for sure. I mean, as long as I wouldn’t be intruding…?”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Yoongi blurted out. “We’d love to have you join us.”

“Oh…” Hoseok uttered. “Honestly, I can’t thank you enough-“

“No need,” Namjoon cut in. “Just follow us, I’ll take care of everything.” Pulling out his phone, Namjoon made a call. As he spoke efficiently into the handset, Hoseok and Yoongi shared a few shy glances. Once he’d finished his call, Namjoon said, “Right, that’s sorted. Let’s go,” and strode off toward the private security screening.

A still-in-shock Hoseok couldn’t help but follow, his legs seemingly taking on a mind of their own.

Jeongguk groaned as the sun hit just at the wrong angle for his sunglasses to fully block out. Perhaps it was time to admit he’d gone slightly overboard on the champagne last night… At least, at the Silver Bullets after party. The half bottle of whisky that he and Seokjin had shared between them once arriving back at the hotel to personally celebrate their 1-2 didn’t count. Surely it was their right? Glancing over at his boyfriend, Jeongguk smirked when he noticed just how pale Seokjin looked in the harsh glow of the early afternoon sun. Ideally, he’d have walked closer and spent the walk into the terminal teasing him about hangovers and his advanced age, but Jeongguk was painfully aware that their relationship had still not been officially confirmed. Even though it was probably an open secret at this point. But still, protocol had to be followed. Idly, he wondered when, if ever, they’d be able to go public. For now, though, he'd have to wait until they’d cleared private security and had made it on to their jet before he could indulge in the need to seek comfort from his love.

Seokjin was in no better state. His head pounded, his stomach gurgled and he was sweating pure alcohol. His mind was also awash with a plethora of thoughts, none of them particularly welcomed in his seedy state. Ah. There it was again. The single thought that drowned out all others… Not now, Seokjin told himself firmly. You’ll have time to give it plenty of thought later. When they’d finally boarded the jet and Jeongguk had wrapped his arms warmly around him from behind, Seokjin finally felt himself start to relax.

“I’m gonna need you to cuddle me for at least an hour,” he murmured, leaning heavily on his boyfriend. “And I’m gonna need a coffee the size of my head,” he addressed one of the attendants.

“Of course, Mr. Kim. I’ll bring that right over.”

Jimin had never experienced quite the rush of paparazzi that engulfed he and Taehyung when they got out of their taxi at the airport that day. Always raking over the coals, he thought bitterly as Taehyung told yet another nosy reporter that he didn’t wish to make any further comments about what had happened in the race or the fact that he was now sitting behind both Kim Seokjin and Jeon Jeongguk in the drivers’ standings. Knowing that he couldn’t really say anything to help, Jimin simply squeezed Taehyung’s hand, running his thumb gently over the infinity charm bracelet on his lover’s wrist.

“Thank God I have you,” Taehyung sighed as they finally broke free of the press.

“You’ve always got me,” Jimin affirmed. “Just try getting rid of me now!” He laughed fondly.

“No chance,” Taehyung grinned. Stopping abruptly, he pulled Jimin into a full-body hug, caring little for the stares of onlookers. Kim Taehyung was in love, and he didn’t give a damn who knew it.

*****

Lusail International Circuit, Doha, Qatar

Alone in his hotel room in Doha, Hoseok remained seated in the same spot he’d landed the moment he’d walked through the door. Staring into the ether, he attempted to follow the thread of his tangled thoughts in a way that made some kind of sense. His heart rate still hadn’t slowed down after parting ways with Namjoon and Yoongi at hotel reception. And if he was entirely honest with himself, it had hurt, seeing them walk off together to their shared suite while he was left alone in his rather more economical double room. But it wasn’t really about the luxuriousness of their accommodation, now, was it?

Hoseok couldn’t help but wonder whether Yoongi had told Namjoon about the conversation they’d had at the Korean Grand Prix. Whether he had or he hadn’t, Hoseok couldn’t help but cringe so hard he almost fell in on himself. Why did I say all those things? he asked himself aggressively. What, exactly, did I hope to achieve?

Several floors above and several hours later, Namjoon lay with his nose buried in Yoongi’s hair and one arm wrapped around his unclothed waist. Yoongi, as always, had no trouble falling asleep. But Namjoon still had miles to go. Unbidden, Hoseok’s face had taken up residence in his mind. His smile. His laugh. The way he pursed his lips when he was deep in thought. And then, shamefully, the images turned erotic. Hoseok on his back, legs wrapped around Namjoon’s back, begging him to go harder, faster, more. His effortless core strength as he undulated his hips, driving Namjoon to the brink of insanity and then past it.

How can I be having such thoughts when Yoongi is here in my arms? Namjoon berated himself, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Shame filled his heart, hot and cloying. And still, the image of Hoseok curled up behind him, an arm slung over Namjoon’s waist the way his was slung over Yoongi’s, was so vivid that he could almost feel his presence. Shame gave way to yearning, the intensity of it stealing Namjoon’s breath.

Could I have both? Could we all have each other?

That audacious, improbable thought lodged in Namjoon and refused to let go until he finally drifted off to sleep as the sun was beginning to rise over the desert landscape.

*****

A blood-curdling scream echoed throughout the Parisian Suite in Raffles Hotel, Doha, shaking Jimin into immediate high alert.

“Taehyung? Taehyung!” he repeated, feeling the mattress shake as his love trembled uncontrollably. “Baby, what’s happening?”

Taehyung’s eyes flew open. His thousand-yard stare stole Jimin’s breath from his lungs.

“Fuck,” Taehyung uttered, his voice dry and chalky.

Even in the darkened room, Jimin was able to discern an extra glimmer in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Hold me?” Taehyung rasped.

“Of course,” Jimin replied simply, deeply moved by the way Taehyung made himself smaller to fit right into his arms. Snuggling in, Jimin mused that they really did fit together like two halves of a whole. Jimin filled in all the spaces that Taehyung left, and Taehyung… Well, he completed Jimin in ways he was still trying to decipher. Maybe he’d never know the full extent of it. But now wasn’t really the time to ponder that.

“Tae?”

“Mm?”

“Do you wanna talk about what just happened?”

Sighing heavily, Taehyung somehow managed to burrow even further into Jimin’s embrace. “Not really,” he mumbled, hoping that would be enough for Jimin to drop the subject.

He should have realised how foolish that was.

“Kim Taehyung. You just jolted me awake by screaming so loudly that my ears are almost bleeding. You don’t get to decide. Now, spill,” Jimin said, the steel in his voice a major contrast to the softness of his hold.

Freezing cold fear engulfed Taehyung as he challenged himself to face the nightmare he’d just had. He was forced to admit that this wasn’t something that could solely be consigned to the terrors of the night.

“Jiminie,” he began, “what if I’ve really thrown away the championship again?” he whispered, hardly daring to utter the words. “What if it’s never going to be mine?”

Jimin’s stomach lurched painfully. He hadn’t wanted to think about this particular situation, but he’d known that the time would come when Taehyung needed him to. What kind of a performance coach would he be if he couldn’t help his driver navigate a problem like this? Furthermore, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he couldn’t support Taehyung through this crisis?

“You haven’t thrown it away,” Jimin responded firmly. “There are still enough points left for you to snatch the championship from underneath Seokjin and Jeongguk’s noses,” he added cheekily. “It’s not going to be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s you, Kim Taehyung,” he declared, gently rubbing Taehyung’s back as he delivered his verdict.   

“You’re just saying that,” Taehyung murmured dismissively.

Furious, Jimin disentangled himself and reached out to turn on the overhead light.

“Ouch!” Taehyung yelped, shielding his eyes. “What on earth?”

“I need you to look at me, Tae. And I need to be sure that you’re actually looking,” Jimin fumed.

“All right, all right,” Taehyung grumbled. And yet, he made sure to gaze pointedly into Jimin’s eyes.

“Taehyung. Do you seriously think that I’d even be here if I didn’t believe you were capable of winning the world championship?” Jimin began.

Taehyung merely shrugged.

Shaking his head, Jimin huffed out a heavy breath. “I can’t believe you’d insult my professionalism like that.”

Eyebrows shooting up, Taehyung made to apologise.

“No,” Jimin cut him off, holding up a hand. “Let me speak.”

Taehyung nodded meekly.

“Yes, you’re my boyfriend. Yes, I love you. But first, I was your performance coach,” he explained. “I’m not someone who does things by halves, as I’m sure you know by now,” Jimin smirked. “And for me to agree to take on the job as your performance coach, I had to believe in you one hundred percent.”

“Oh,” Taehyung uttered sheepishly.

“Yeah, Tae. Even before we got together, I had every faith that you would win at least one World Championship. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have said yes to taking on the job,” Jimin explained. “My career was at a crossroads and the next job I took was very much make or break. And working with you was the making of me. I’m prouder of my work as your performance coach than anything else I’ve ever done, professionally,” he admitted.

“You really believe in me,” Taehyung uttered in wonderment.

“Of course I do, silly,” Jimin replied gruffly. “And what’s more, I’m going to help you get your head in the right place to steal that championship,” he added.

“I love it when you talk like that,” Taehyung drawled, rubbing his incipient bulge against Jimin’s thigh and letting out a heavy breath. “Since we’re awake anyway, you wanna?”

Jimin’s delighted giggle was swiftly muffled by Taehyung’s lips on his.

*****

After the one and only free practice session at Lusail Circuit, Kim Seokjin mused that he had a love-hate relationship with sprint weekends. Being brutally honest with himself, he was forced to admit that love-hate feeling extended into everything about Formula 1. Such thoughts were unwelcome, however, when he had just a couple of hours to get his head back in the game for sprint qualifying. Somehow, he’d managed to top the timesheets so far, though Seokjin really wasn’t sure how he’d done that.

I guess I really am one of the greatest of all time if I can drive like this when my heart isn’t in it at all, Seokjin thought wryly. Naturally, throughout his racing career, his love for the sport had ebbed and flowed. It wasn’t plausible to suggest that his feelings had been entirely positive. Truthfully, there were times when Kim Seokjin really didn’t want to do this anymore. Despite the fact that he was leading the championship with two race weekends left, today was one of those times. Rather than haul his ass back to the garage and sit through debriefs with Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok and other team personnel, he would much rather drag Jeongguk back to the hotel, snuggle up under the covers and watch a light-hearted movie.

Pushing himself out of his car, Seokjin’s eyes instinctively searched for Jeongguk. Even from across the garage, the fire in his boyfriend’s eyes burned so brightly he could almost feel it.

He really wants this, Seokjin knew. He wants it in a way that I can’t, anymore.

The decision that had gnawed at the edges of his consciousness for so long, already, thrust itself right into the centre of his thoughts. He’d been surviving by staving it off, thinking that his attitude would change. Historically, that had been the case. There was something vastly different about this time, however, and Seokjin was powerless in the face of it.

Two more race weekends. That’s all he had to get through, and then…

Well, things would be different.

Though he appeared to be paying close attention to the post-practice debrief, Jeongguk couldn’t stop his attention from wandering toward his boyfriend. Seokjin looked haunted. Though the rest of the team seemed to be acting as normal, treating The King the same way they always did. Perhaps, knowing him as well as he did, Jeongguk was simply more aware of it than others were. You can’t fool me, Kim Seokjin, Jeongguk thought to himself, ignoring the tender tug of his heartstrings in favour of remaining focused. Unfortunately, Jeongguk still had a job to do.

And so did Seokjin.

“Allow yourself to visualise the ideal lap. The exact sequence of events that will take place in order for you to deliver that inch-perfect performance,” Jimin’s calming voice intoned.

Lying prone on the sofa in his driver room, Taehyung simply couldn’t switch off his intrusive thoughts. This is all your fault. If only you had been paying attention at the start of the last race you wouldn’t be in this position. Not to mention your big crash a while back, which was caused by you literally running out of talent. How pathetic are you? Think you can run with the big boys but really you’re just a small, pathetic loser who will never get your name on the trophy you covet so deeply.

“When you’re ready, Taehyung, breathe yourself back into the room, remembering where you are. When you open your eyes, allow them to land on something beautiful, something that makes you smile.”

Taehyung opened his eyes and immediately his gaze landed on Jimin. Perfect, he thought. Noticing the direction of Taehyung’s stare, Jimin blushed and giggled lightly.

“You’ll spoil me,” he murmured. “Just so you know, I don’t expect you to look at me every time I say that.”

“And what if I want to?” Taehyung grinned. “Sweetheart, how about you come and sit on my lap for a little while before I have to get ready for qualifying?”

As a compact bundle of limbs landed heavily on top of him, Taehyung had the fleeting thought that he should tell Jimin about his struggles to concentrate on the meditation. But then Jimin kissed him, and all other thoughts flew right out of his mind.

“Ready to go, Jin?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Yoongi,” Seokjin replied sharply.

“You know what to do,” Yoongi added mirthfully.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing this for a while.”

Just like that, all of Seokjin’s weariness evaporated as his ‘game face’ took over and he whizzed around the sixteen corners of Lusail International Circuit. Crossing the line, he sensed that he’d done a decent job.

“How was that, Yoongi?” he asked as he began the cool down lap.

“P1 so far,” Yoongi replied smugly. “Looks like the old man’s still got it.”

“Less of the ‘old’, thank you,” Seokjin chided him. “You’re less than a year younger than me, remember.”

Somehow, Seokjin was able to keep unwelcome thoughts at bay throughout the forty-five minute sprint qualifying session. He was strangely pleased to note that Kim Taehyung was rather more competitive than he had been in Las Vegas, managing to qualify third. Which certainly helped Seokjin’s concentration as he had to work hard to keep him at bay. But the fact was, the Silver Bullets were definitely the team to beat around this circuit.

Crossing the line on his final hot lap, Seokjin knew that he’d given his all. And if that wasn’t enough, then what?

Yoongi’s voice startled him out of his funk. “That’s P1, Jin. Pole position!”

“Fuck,” Seokjin muttered under his breath, making sure the radio broadcast button wasn’t pressed down. Gathering himself together, he pressed the button and delivered a massive whoop. “Nice work, guys. Thank you for giving me such a beautiful car,” he drawled smoothly.

“Front row lockout for the Bullets tomorrow,” Yoongi informed him. “Guk was only a few hundredths away from your time.”

All’s fair in love and war, Seokjin couldn’t help but think.

“Nice session, Guk. That’s a front row start for the sprint,” Yeonjun told him cheerfully.

Jeongguk couldn’t ignore the pang of regret that punched him in the gut. If only he’d taken a little more speed into that final corner, perhaps he could have beaten Seokjin… But still, the front row was a decent place to start. He’d won from second position before, and he could do it again.

“Cheers, Jjunie. Thanks to you and the rest of the team for the rocket ship you’ve put under me this weekend,” Jeongguk said warmly. Now was not the time to let his disappointment take hold. Besides, he still felt a slightly smug pride at the fact that he’d be the one sleeping next to Kim Seokjin, sprint pole-sitter, that night.

Third. Could have been worse, Taehyung thought after Hyungsik informed him of his grid position. “Thanks, Hyungsikkie. I guess the Bullets were a little too far ahead, today.”

“Remember, Tae, there are no points for qualifying,” Hyungsik reminded him sharply. “Tomorrow’s another matter.”

A dark cloud settled over Taehyung as he pondered the fact that he really hadn’t been able to settle into a rhythm. He’d been lucky to get away with third place, and even that was only by the tiniest of margins over Chris Bang in his MacPherson. Vernon was fifth, Felix Lee sixth, followed by Kim Mingyu, Xu Minghao, Josh Hong and Kai Huening, the latter really seeming to grow into himself in the latter half of this season.

Despite feeling downcast, the tiniest sliver of hope stirred in Taehyung’s heart. The championship wasn’t over, yet. It was up to him to make certain of that.

*****

Lining up in his grid slot, Jeongguk could almost taste the sprint victory that could be his, today. He only needed to overtake one car. Just one!

Unfortunately, that one car contained the driver who many said was the greatest of all time. But Jeongguk was no longer afraid of Seokjin’s reputation – no, he knew his boyfriend far too well for that. Underneath the cool, collected façade lay a goofy, sensitive, kind-hearted man whose self-confidence could sometimes do with a bit of propping up. Jeongguk was more than happy to help with that. But not today.

No, today he wanted to crush Seokjin.

As the five lights went off, he put together one of the better starts of his Formula 1 career. Drawing alongside Seokjin in the run up to the first corner, Jeongguk braked as late as humanly possible – or so he thought. Somehow, Seokjin managed to brake even later and avoid careening off the track. In disbelief, Jeongguk had to concede the corner.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wondering if he’d slightly overestimated himself. Or, perhaps, underestimated Seokjin?

Taehyung’s start had definitely not gone according to plan. He’d managed to engage the anti-stall device, which meant he was sluggish in getting off the line and was rapidly passed by both his teammate and Chris Bang. Letting out a roar of frustration, he darted all over the track in an attempt to overtake.

But there was nothing doing. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t get himself in a position to pass. For nineteen laps Taehyung sat impatiently behind two slower cars. Perhaps if he’d been in a better headspace, he’d have been able to do something about it… But there was also the distinct possibility that it was just how the chips had fallen, that day.

Crossing the line in fifth position, Taehyung cringed as he realised he’d only earned four measly points. At least Kim Seokjin had only earned eight for his win, and Jeon Jeongguk seven points for second. Small mercies.

The moment he returned to the garage, Taehyung grabbed Jimin by the hand and dragged him into his driver room, ignoring the whoops and catcalls from other team personnel.

“Tae, what are you-“

“Jimin, I need your help,” Taehyung whispered urgently, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I need to find my spark again. I need to put myself in with a chance of winning the main race tomorrow if I still want any hope of winning this championship,” he finished, slumping heavily on to the sofa. Looking up, he met Jimin’s eyes. “Will you help me?”

Jimin’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Of course I’ll help you, Tae. It’s my job,” he said firmly. “But you have to be honest with me, too,” he added, rather more quietly.

Taehyung sighed. “I should know that I can’t get anything past you,” he admitted.

Jimin smirked.

“OK,” Taehyung breathed. “I couldn’t focus during our meditation earlier. And I didn’t want to bother you by letting you know at the time. I figured I could just brazen it out…”

Jimin’s raucous laugh stopped Taehyung in his tracks. “You really think I didn’t notice, Tae? Did I come down in yesterday’s dust storm?”

Taehyung raised his hands sheepishly. “Why didn’t you say something? Time is kinda of the essence, here,” he grumbled.

Rolling his eyes, Jimin placed both hands on Taehyung’s shoulders. “I can’t make you get into the right headspace, Taehyungie. All I can do is show you the way. Unfortunately, it’s up to you to do the rest.”

“I want to do the rest,” Taehyung uttered almost inaudibly.

“Hmm?”

“I want to do the rest,” Taehyung repeated, louder and firmer. “I want to win this year’s championship, Jimin! Fuck, I want it so badly I can almost taste it,” he finished, his deep, resonant voice almost bouncing off the walls. “Can we please try another meditation?” he asked, quieter this time.

“Of course, Tae. But you have to promise to be honest with me, this time. It’s OK if you’re not feeling it, you know? If you tell me, I can adjust what I’m doing to better suit you,” Jimin explained. “There is no right or wrong when it comes to meditation and visualisation exercises, remember that.”

This time, when Taehyung felt his mind start to wander, he told Jimin about it. Which enabled Jimin to better tailor the meditation to Taehyung’s needs. By the time they’d finished a lengthy visualisation, Taehyung was suffused by calm. That feeling clung to him as he proceeded through the first two sessions of Grand Prix qualifying. The usual butterflies accompanied him into the top ten shootout, but they were weak enough to simply acknowledge and move on. At his very core, Taehyung remained unshakeable.

With each hot lap, he surged closer and closer to the lap record. As he came over the line for a final time, he knew he’d put himself firmly back in the conversation for the race win. Now he just had to wait until the last car crossed the line to be certain of where he’d line up on the grid for tomorrow.

“Fantastic lap, Tae,” Hyungsik’s voice boomed in his ears. “I’m sorry to say that you just got pipped at the very end there by Kim Seokjin. But you’ll start from P2 tomorrow.”

Second. While it was only one position further up than he’d started in the sprint, there were light years of distance between the two, at least from Taehyung’s perspective.

“Yesss!” he hollered, exuberance practically bursting out of him as he caressed his car slowly around the corners for the cool-down lap. Most importantly, Taehyung had shown himself that he could still do it.

And now that he’d done that, it was going to take a monumental force to stop him.

The top three qualifiers’ press conference was a riot of noise as reporters clamoured to prove their questions were the most deserving of an answer.

Sitting back a little in his chair, Taehyung surveyed the other two drivers with interest. Jeon appeared every inch the rookie firebrand, eyes flashing and body tensed in a forward position. His Majesty was rather more subdued. Odd, given he’d just achieved his second pole position of the weekend… But Taehyung was smart enough, these days, not to presume he knew what was going on in the hearts and minds of other drivers. That kind of know-it-all attitude had gotten him in strife as a youngster. It was Jimin who’d taught him that one can never really know what’s going on with someone else – no matter how close you may be to them or how much you are able to imagine yourself in their shoes.

“Taehyung, how are you feeling after your crash in Vegas? Especially given you’ve fluffed the championship again? Remind me, how many years in a row is it now?” a particularly annoying reporter asked.

Taehyung knew that reporter, of course. The dumpy, ruddy-complexioned man had always seemed to have a heavy chip on his shoulder and an affinity for pressing Taehyung’s buttons in particular.

Leaning back a little further in his chair, he offered the man an unruffled smile. “I’m feeling absolutely wonderful, thank you for asking,” he smarmed. “And as for the other part of your question, it’s simple. I am skilled at basic mental arithmetic, which informs me that the championship is still achievable. Unfortunately, with your obvious lack of numeracy skills, you seem to have missed that point.”

Titters flowed along the row of reporters as heads turned to observe the man’s reaction. Even redder-faced than usual, he spluttered and attempted to form a sentence when Taehyung turned a shark-like grin on him. “Don’t worry, there’s still time for you to learn to count,” he cooed.

Well played, Taehyung, Seokjin thought privately, hiding his amusement behind his hand.

*****

Shaking a few drops of water from his hair, Jeongguk tied a towel around his waist and slapped some moisturiser on his face. Through the cracked-open door, he could see Seokjin sprawled on the superking-sized bed, staring into space. His boyfriend had been unusually quiet since they’d returned to the hotel after the press conference, hardly speaking a word during dinner. Jeongguk had become so weary of the silence that he’d excused himself to go and clean up. Normally, that would provoke some kind of response from Seokjin – usually an offer to join him.

But this time, Seokjin had merely hummed and resumed his unfocused staring.

There had been no wild dash back to their hotel suite to consummate Seokjin’s pole positions this weekend. Truthfully, that had stung. Seokjin hadn’t even tried to initiate any sort of physical closeness. Not only that, he’d completely missed Jeongguk’s not-so-subtle insinuations.

Maybe the novelty’s wearing off, Jeongguk wondered. Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore?

The thought was so painful that Jeongguk buckled a little at the knees.

“Guk,” Seokjin called softly, “are you almost done?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighed, pushing open the door and wandering back into the bedroom.

At least Seokjin was sitting up, now. As he drew closer, Jeongguk realised that his boyfriend’s eyes held a curious intensity.

“You smell so good,” Seokjin murmured, holding out his arms. “Cuddle me?”

Jeongguk’s stomach lurched painfully. How could he ever say no to that? Choking a little on his breath, he flung himself on the bed and into Seokjin’s waiting arms.

“Hey, Gukkie,” Seokjin asked gently. “What’s on your mind, hmm?”

Burrowing his face into Seokjin’s neck, Jeongguk sighed. “It’s dumb,” he said quietly.

“Hey! Nothing is ever ‘dumb’ if it bothers you. Do you hear me, Guk?” Seokjin replied sharply.

Jolted out of his dreamy state, Jeongguk raised his eyes to meet Seokjin’s curious gaze.

“Am I…” he began, then shook his head.

“Are you what?” Seokjin queried, his voice achingly gentle.

“Am I still enough for you?” Jeongguk blurted out, his cheeks flushing poppy-red.

Seokjin’s mouth fell open, his juicy, rosy lips parted in an ‘o’ shape. “Jeongguk…” he uttered, seemingly unable to follow it with anything else.

“It’s just that you’ve been so distant, Jin,” Jeongguk lamented. “I feel like I can’t reach you, and that scares me.”

Seokjin shook himself out of the temporary stupor he’d fallen into.

“Jeon Jeongguk, when I said I loved you, I meant it,” Seokjin avowed fervently. “I realise now that I’ve been remiss in making sure you know just how much,” he added, gazing deeply into Jeongguk’s glittery eyes. “You are everything to me. Everything. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. Actually, I’m pretty sure that if I lost you, I’d lose myself, too,” he conceded.

Jeongguk regarded him with surprise.

“Guk, I have something I need to tell you,” Seokjin declared earnestly. “I wasn’t going to, but I think I have to…” he trailed off.

Fear roiled in Jeongguk’s gut at the seriousness of Seokjin’s tone. Subduing it, he placed a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder and reassured him that whatever it was, he would be there for him.

The exhale that Seokjin let out left him somewhat deflated, his eyes smouldering with intent as he leaned forward and told Jeongguk exactly what had been on his mind.

By the time Seokjin had finished getting it all off his chest, Jeongguk was certain his eyes had never been wider.

As the elevator travelled down to the hotel lobby, Yoongi observed Namjoon keenly. His lover was every bit as handsome and wildly charismatic as he’d always been, of that there was no doubt – and yet, something didn’t sit right with Yoongi when he looked at him. After examining his own feelings in depth, Yoongi was confident it wasn’t about those. Yes, he craved Hoseok, but he also craved Namjoon. Something in Yoongi was telling him that Namjoon’s feelings on the matter were potentially as complicated as his own. And still, Yoongi worried that he was projecting.

The elevator stopped, and the door opened.

“Oh,” Hoseok uttered, looking from Yoongi to Namjoon in surprise before getting in. “Uh, hi. I was just going out to explore and find somewhere for dinner,” he explained.

Is Hoseok blushing? Yoongi wondered, although the soft light in the elevator made it difficult to get a read on that.

Glancing at Namjoon, Yoongi was surprised to find a beseeching look in his eyes. The words ‘forgive me’ popped into Yoongi’s mind unbidden as Namjoon blurted out, “Why don’t you join us for dinner, Hoseok?”

Hoseok’s eyes immediately flew to Yoongi’s face. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?” he asked quietly.

Rearranging his features into a smile, Yoongi informed Hoseok that he would be very welcome.

The tiny squeeze Namjoon pressed into Yoongi’s hand told him he’d given the only right answer.

As it had been on their shared flight, the atmosphere was a little awkward at first. Soon, however, awkwardness gave way to a tender, almost shy sense of feeling their way in each other’s company. The three of them spending time together was a brand new dynamic, so of course it was going to feel a little strange… But Yoongi, listening to Namjoon and Hoseok’s animated discussion about mint choco ice cream, had the distinct feeling that he could get used to this.

He only hoped that both Namjoon and Hoseok felt the same.

*****

Taehyung had been oddly silent for most of the day leading up to the race. No matter what he tried to tell himself, Jimin couldn’t help but worry.

Frankly, the day hadn’t started well. Waking with a start, the sky still dark, Jimin had found the other side of the bed empty. When he’d checked the time, he was confused – it read 4.27am, and yet Taehyung was nowhere to be found in their suite. Jimin had expected to find him in the bathroom, or failing that, the comfortable sofa in the living area. When Taehyung wasn’t in either of those places, Jimin’s heart instinctively began to pound. He’d put through three calls to Taehyung’s phone. All of which had gone unanswered.

As he’d restlessly paced the room, Jimin’s mind had rushed through all the potential negative situations that Taehyung could have found himself in. He was just about to do the unthinkable and put in a pre-5am call to Seojoon when the door to their suite swung open and Taehyung sauntered in, his t-shirt sticking to his body with sweat but otherwise supremely nonchalant.

“Jimin?” he’d uttered in surprise. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Jimin levelled him with an astonished look. “I woke up and you weren’t there, Taehyung! I was panicking! I tried to call you but you didn’t answer. It’s lucky you walked in right at this moment because I was just about to dial Seojoon’s number…” he trailed off as Taehyung crossed the room in three long strides and took him in his arms.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he soothed, rubbing long, gentle strokes up and down Jimin’s trembling back. “I just couldn’t sleep. I needed to do something productive, so I ended up running the track. Managed to get someone to let me in and put the floodlights on,” he grinned, clearly pleased with the level of influence he was able to exert.

Pouting, Jimin gave him a light tap on the arm. “You should have woken me, I could have come with you,” he grumbled.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. “Why would I do that when you were sleeping like an angel? You were so peaceful, Jiminie. I couldn’t bear to disturb you.”

“Your smell is disturbing me right now,” Jimin grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “Go shower.”

“I suppose I can’t tempt you to join me?” Taehyung asked cheekily.

Jimin snorted. “Not likely. I’m going back to sleep,” he declared, storming off to the bedroom and completely ignoring Taehyung’s longing gaze.

Clean and sweet-smelling, Taehyung padded gently into the bedroom, careful not to disturb Jimin any further. His breath caught in his chest as his eyes travelled slowly over the contours of Jimin’s body underneath the thin white sheet. Blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, lips pouted and eyes softly closed, pretty lashes fanning out over his delectably full cheeks, Jimin had never resembled an angel more than he did in that moment. I love him so much it hurts, Taehyung realised. Emotion threatened to overcome him, his throat tight and eyes filling with unexpected tears.

*****

A twilight race in the desert carried several familiar challenges. One was the fading natural light, soon to be replaced by the harsh electric lights around the circuit. The second, rather less bearable, was the dust. The light could be dealt with using graduated visor tear-offs, but the dust? Well, that was going in every crevice it could find. Machine or human, it didn’t discriminate.

The third, even more worrying, was the effect the desert seemed to have on the drivers.

Taehyung’s walkabout in the small hours of the morning was just the beginning. There were reports up and down the paddock of drivers behaving oddly, leaving team principals tearing their hair out. Namjoon was grateful that neither of his drivers had made too much of a spectacle of themselves.

Well, other than Kim Seokjin and his sense of humour that could only really be referred to as ‘dad jokes’. The entire team had been rolling their eyes and groaning in disbelief since Seokjin had arrived at the track that day, his squeaky laugh ringing out from somewhere in the garage approximately every thirty seconds. Jeongguk seemed to be bouncing off Seokjin’s energy, as evidenced by the fact that he had been hiding in all sorts of places so he could startle team personnel with jumpscares.

It was when Jeongguk jumped out from underneath Namjoon’s desk that he knew he had to put a stop to it.

“Jeon Jeongguk!” Namjoon bellowed, the commanding tone of his voice surprising even himself. “This is not a playground!”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened so much that Namjoon was momentarily worried they were about to fall out of his face. “I’m sorry, Namjoon,” he apologised, gaze falling to the floor. “I guess I got a bit carried away.”

A rush of sorrow flooded Namjoon as he realised afresh that he was only three years older than Jeongguk. Still a young man, but when had he last acted like one? Softening, he reached out to pat Jeongguk on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Guk,” he soothed. “I get that you’re just trying to lighten the mood around here, and to be honest, we could all use a bit of that, this late in the season,” Namjoon admitted. “Just make sure you’re in the right frame of mind for the race, later, OK?”

Jeongguk nodded. “Of course I will,” he affirmed, getting ready to leave the office.

“Make sure you tell that to your very mature boyfriend, too, OK?” Namjoon grinned.

“Will do, boss!” Jeongguk chirped, fake-saluting as he wandered back out the door.

To be involved in the insanity that was Formula 1, one must operate constantly with some level of jetlag. It was simply impossible to avoid. Mornings turned into afternoons, days into nights. All bodies were confused at all times. At least, given their schedules, the days were easy enough to tell apart. Even still, a 4pm race start felt distinctly off-putting. The drivers and engineers, especially, had to make sure they were firing on all cylinders regardless of how much sleep they’d had or whether it was at the ‘right’ time. Because once the racing got underway, everything else faded into irrelevance.

Fastening his race suit, already wincing as the dry heat lashed at his skin, Taehyung looked intently into his own eyes in the mirror. Calm. Focused. Unflappable. Not even the vaguest hint of disturbance intruded into his intense, dark brown gaze.

For a brief moment, his thoughts flicked back toward Jimin and the tender embrace they’d shared before Taehyung had taken the final few pre-race moments for himself.

Jimin believed in him wholeheartedly. And because of that, it was easier for Taehyung to believe in himself. Simple, right?

Wrenching his eyes away from his reflection, Taehyung headed into the garage and prepared to be strapped into his race car. The simplest things are often the ones that mean the most, he mused as he settled into his lap to the grid. Talking of simple things, Taehyung found his thoughts drifting back to yesterday’s post-qualifying press conference and his well-placed quip about mental arithmetic.

It really was incredibly simple. He was currently on 409 points. Jeon Jeongguk was on 426, Kim Seokjin on 431. Maximum available points in the next two races? Fifty-two. Today, the most important thing Taehyung could do was throw everything at the race win. No more playing it safe.

He was ready.

With the back of Seokjin’s car directly in his eyeline as he drove into his grid slot after the formation lap, Jeongguk let out a heavy exhale. Being only five points adrift of the championship lead in this rookie season, with two races left to run, had seemed like a crazy dream. And yet, here he was, with a real chance to win the championship in his very first year.  At the moment, he was seventeen points ahead of Kim Taehyung. Comfortable enough, one might suggest… But if Jeongguk had learned anything about the Stallions driver through racing a full season against him, it was that you were a damn fool if you ever counted Kim Taehyung out of anything before it was truly over.

Pole position. Nothing ahead of him except the run down to the first corner. A sight Kim Seokjin had seen many times in his lengthy career as a racing driver, one that had filled him with excitement and nervousness in equal measure. How many times had he soared off into the distance, untroubled? Conversely, how many times had he been forced wide and overtaken at the first corner?

That’s not the best thing to think about right now, Seokjin reminded himself as the five lights went on and the deafening roar of engines filled his ears. As his Silver Bullet hurtled toward the first right-hander, Seokjin became aware of a flash of red drawing alongside him. Kim Taehyung was crafty, that was undeniable. But Seokjin had seen the move coming and was able to cover it off.

Jeongguk cursed roundly as Kim Taehyung darted away from him and made a more than decent attempt at taking the race lead away from Seokjin. He hadn’t exactly fluffed the start, but the Stallions driver had definitely nailed his, leaving Jeongguk scrambling to catch up.

Yeonjun’s voice, calm and measured, brought him back down to earth. “It’s a long race, Gukkie. Anything can happen,” his engineer reminded him.

Yeonjun’s words proved prophetic when in lap 12, Vernon Chwe’s Stallion suffered a spectacular brake failure as he reached the end of the start-finish straight, leaving him simply a passenger as he skewed off the track, veered through the runoff area and smacked into the barriers.

Taehyung groaned as yellows flashed up on his dashboard. “Hyungsikkie, who is it this time?” he asked wearily.

“Vernon,” Hyungsik replied shortly. “He’s fine, been on the radio already. Brakes stopped working when he was at top speed. Obviously he couldn’t get out of it.”

Wincing, Taehyung made a hissing noise through his teeth. “First, I’m glad Vern’s OK, it’s scary when that sort of thing happens. But please make sure you keep an eye on my brakes, because we don’t want something like that to happen again.”

Hyungsik laughed nervously. “Of course, Tae. We are a professional race team, you know…”

Taehyung laughed awkwardly. While he knew that focusing on what could go wrong was more likely to drive him mad than it was to spare him from a mechanical DNF, it was difficult to wrench his mind away from the possibility of his brakes suddenly deciding to go the way of his teammate’s. History showed that when one car in a team had a certain problem, the other had a decent chance of following in its footsteps.

At least if my brakes fail and I lose the championship because of that, it’s not really my own fault, Taehyung thought briefly as the cars all lined up behind the safety car, weaving around to keep as much temperature in their tyres as possible.

Jimin’s voice interrupted his nihilistic thoughts with a bump. “Tae?” the silvery sound filtered through his headset. “You doing all right in there?”

“You’re not Hyungsik,” Taehyung teased. He should have been used to Hyungsik handing off his microphone to Jimin at crucial times, given he’d done it quite a few times by now. But his engineer’s foresight to do so at this particular moment still surprised him.

Jimin giggled. “No. But he wanted me to check on you. Because of the dumb rules, I’m not allowed to coach you,” Jimin sighed in exasperation. “But I’ll remind you that you know exactly what to do. Got it?”

Jimin believes in me. Those words flashed neon-bright in Taehyung’s mind, displacing all else.

“You’re right, Jiminie. I know exactly what to do,” he replied confidently. “Thank you,” he added, somewhat softer.

“Go get ‘em, Tae,” Jimin urged.

Recovering Vernon’s stricken Stallion took rather longer than anticipated, and by lap 14 there was still no sign of the safety car being withdrawn. An idea popped into Taehyung’s mind and it simply would not be displaced.

“Hyungsikkie?”

“Mm?”

“Any chance you could bring me in for softs?”

“Uhhh… Let me check that, Tae… It’s not what we discussed, but…”

“Trust me on this, Hyungsikkie.”

Silence. Taehyung could only imagine Hyungsik going in to bat for him with the rest of the strategy team.

“Tae?”

“Yeah?”

“All right,” Hyungsik sighed, the difficult conversation clearly having taken its toll. “Box, box.”

Jeongguk watched in astonishment as Kim Taehyung peeled into the pit lane. What is he doing? It’s race suicide, he thought. But then he remembered how many races he’d watched where Kim Taehyung made a call that seemed, at the time, like lunacy… And it turned out to be inspired. This one, however, made absolutely no sense to Jeongguk. It was too early for a pitstop, safety car be damned.

“Taehyung’s pitting,” he blurted out over the radio to Yeonjun.

“We’re just looking into it, Guk. Initial investigations show that it is not optimum strategy,” Yeonjun reassured him.

Sure enough, when Taehyung emerged from the pits, even with the smaller loss of time being under the safety car, he was in P14 on the track.

“Jin, just to let you know, Taehyung pitted for softs behind the safety car. He’s down in P14,” Yoongi informed him.

“What?! That’s crazy at this point in the race!” Seokjin exploded. Laughing sardonically, he added, “Maybe I should thank him for just handing our team the race victory, hmm?”

“Safety car in this lap, Tae,” Hyungsik let him know. “Be ready.”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Taehyung answered coolly.

Hyungsik, sitting in his usual position on the pit wall, had to suppress a shiver.

The safety car pulled into the pits, and the race restart was in the hands of Kim Seokjin. Taehyung was so far back that he couldn’t even see Seokjin. His attention was sharply focused on the cars in front of him  - two Picadors and a Hayes. Not, usually, the types of cars he was required to fight with. Although Taehyung was in by far the faster package, doing battle with unfamiliar opponents still brought with it a certain type of danger. It was wise, therefore, to sit back a little at the restart and give himself a moment to assess the situation.

Halfway around the lap, Taehyung had observed and internalised the strengths and weaknesses of the cars immediately in front of him and with two rather perfunctory passes, was sitting in P12. As expected, his tyre advantage over the other drivers was ridiculous with his brand new softs as opposed to tired mediums and very quickly, he was back inside the top ten and knocking on the door of the top five. Now, only Kai Huening, Felix Lee and Chris Bang stood between himself and Jeon Jeongguk in second place.

Kai didn’t put up much of a fight when Taehyung streamed past him. Whether that was junior driver loyalty to the Stallions team or whether Kai simply knew he didn’t have the necessary, it didn’t matter. But Felix Lee and Chris Bang had no such reservations, throwing everything at Taehyung in order to keep him behind.

Excellent drivers though they were, neither had quite the combination of speed and car control that Kim Taehyung possessed. And so, by lap 21, he was staring at the back of Jeon Jeongguk’s Silver Bullet.

“He’s going to have to pit an extra time,” Yeonjun reminded a rather stressed Jeongguk.

“Yeah, but he’s still going to come out right behind me,” Jeongguk muttered. “He’s made up so much time on those tyres.”

Jeongguk was wrong about one thing, at least. Kim Taehyung had absolutely no intention of staying behind him, and showed that definitively by overtaking on the inside at Turn 1.

“Ciao,” Taehyung quipped, driving off in pursuit of Kim Seokjin.

While his soft tyres were starting to wear a little, they were still in better condition than Seokjin’s. Which made it surprisingly easy to breeze past him with the rear wing wide open.

“P1, Tae. Awesome driving,” Hyungsik piped up.

“Cheers, Hyungsikkie! I’m having fun out here,” Taehyung responded cheekily. “This car feels like heaven, today.”

Soaring to an effortless lead of five seconds over Kim Seokjin, a further two back to Jeon Jeongguk, Taehyung was flying high. When his tyres started to feel slightly threadbare, Hyungsik was already on the radio.

“Think about coming in, Tae.”

Taehyung was often one to trust his gut, and right now, it was telling him no. “Let’s hang out just a little longer,” he suggested.

Hyungsik sighed. “If you say so,” he acquiesced. “But The King is coming in this lap and we imagine Jeon will be in the next. You’ll all be on the hard tyres after this stop, so any advantage you had will be gone. Remember that.”

“Sure,” Taehyung responded. “But I still want to wait another couple of laps.”

“As you wish,” Hyungsik said wearily. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

Duly, Hyungsik informed him of the two Silver Bullets’ pit stops and where they’d re-emerged. Something in Taehyung was screaming at him to stay out for just one more lap…

When double yellow flags sprang up around the circuit, Taehyung knew he’d made the right decision.

“Who’s dropped it this time?” he asked Hyungsik.

“Kai,” Hyungsik informed him sadly. “Took too much speed into a corner and spun off. Car is destroyed but he seems to be fine.”

“Damn,” Taehyung sighed. Naturally, he felt sorry for their junior driver, but couldn’t resist turning his sigh into a laugh as the safety car indicator lit up.

“I guess you got it right again,” Hyungsik demurred. “Will you finally box this lap?” he teased.

“All right, Hyungsikkie, I’ll box,” Taehyung replied, fake weariness suffusing his voice.

Pitting under the safety car for the second time, Taehyung emerged back into the lead of the race. Kim Seokjin was in P7, Jeon Jeongguk in P8. Most of the cars between them had yet to pit, but still, this gave Taehyung a comfortable amount of breathing space. When the safety car ended after one lap, Taehyung smugly realised that back at racing speed, the slower cars between the Bullets and himself would potentially hold them up for however long they decided not to pit.

All he really needed to do now was bring it home. Nailing the restart, he pulled a two-second lead on the cars behind in the first lap alone. By the time the slower cars pitted, he had drawn that out to five. With ten laps left and no tyre advantage, the Bullets could only claw back two seconds of that gap as Taehyung controlled the race from the front.

As the chequered flag waved, the reality of what he’d done sank in. He’d clawed back eight points on Kim Seokjin and eleven on Jeon Jeongguk. Heading into the final race, Taehyung was only fourteen points off the championship lead.

Fourteen.

“That’s P1, Tae! Fantastic drive,” Hyungsik’s voice brought him out of his daydream. “I’m glad we listened to you.”

“Thanks, Hyungsikkie. Thanks to the team for a beautiful car. And even more so for believing in me and my crazy calls,” he bantered, letting out a whoop of sheer joy.

“I didn’t tell you this because I didn’t have to, but your brakes were verging on critical near the end there,” Hyungsik admitted. “Obviously if there’d been any real danger I’d have let you know, but…”

Taehyung threw back his head and laughed wholeheartedly. “But why worry me when there was really no reason for it? I can hardly blame you for that,” he acknowledged.

Shaking his head in amused disbelief, Taehyung slowly brought the car around to park in the Number 1 position.

“P2, Jin. I’m sorry,” Yoongi sighed.

“Kim Taehyung, huh?” Seokjin replied lightly. “That crazy bastard.”

“I wish he had a clone that we could hire for our strategy team, that would be useful,” Yoongi admitted. “Anyway, you’re still leading the championship and there’s only one race to go. In the box seat for the fourth year in a row,” Yoongi reminded him.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in Seokjin’s gut as he contemplated precisely that.

“Great drive, Guk. That’s another podium, P3,” Yeonjun ventured.

Jeongguk’s sarcastic laughter filled the cockpit of his car with acid. “Not optimal strategy for Kim Taehyung, huh, Jjunie?”

“Sorry, Guk. We couldn’t have known…”

“No, of course you couldn’t. I’m sorry,” Jeongguk apologised. “How many points am I behind Jin now?”

“Just nine,” Yeonjun reassured him. “Still one race left. Anything can happen.”

Already, the various permutations were flooding Jeongguk’s brain. If he could win the final race and take the fastest lap, Jin would need to finish third or lower for Jeongguk to be champion.

It was far from impossible.

But the biggest obstacle, by far, was the fact that by his reckoning, Kim Taehyung was now only five points behind him in third place. While he was a lot fonder of Taehyung than he’d once been, Jeongguk was still furious at what he’d managed to pull off, today. There was nothing to say he couldn’t pull off something just as crazy in Abu Dhabi.

Hoseok’s prescient words bounced back into his mind, settling comfortably around Jeongguk like a warm embrace. Just because Taehyung and Seokjin were currently more experienced and skilled than he was, that didn’t mean he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – beat them to the championship.

It was still all to play for.

Spraying his bottle of champagne in the Stallions driver’s direction, Seokjin noticed that Taehyung seemed curiously calm. Thinking back to the podium in Australia, which he’d had to watch on TV afterwards, Seokjin remembered Taehyung’s raucous laughter and the way he’d downed approximately half the magnum of champagne before even stepping off the dais. Naturally, he’d heard the rumours that Jimin and Hyungsik had needed to rescue Taehyung from a rather sticky situation in a club later that night. And indeed, the similar but rather more sinister rumours of what had very nearly happened to Taehyung in Budapest.

After that, however, Kim Taehyung had settled down in a way Seokjin had never seen in all the years he’d known him. Jimin is good for him, Seokjin mused, his eyes drawn to the smiling blonde who stood at the front of the Stallions delegation, gazing at Taehyung like he’d hung the moon and the stars.

Feeling the heat of a gaze on his own face, Seokjin glanced over toward Jeongguk. His beloved had fixed him with a look that required no explanation. Part of Seokjin immediately worried what people would think, hoping it could be explained away as hero-worship. But his innermost, authentic self could feel nothing but unadulterated joy in understanding what it was to be adored.

“Love you,” he mouthed in Korean, grinning widely as Jeongguk turned the colour of a poppy in bloom and shyly looked away.

*****

Jimin’s body, pressed between Taehyung’s and the sheets, burned like a furnace despite the cool temperature of the air-conditioning in their suite. Finally, finally, Jimin was getting what he’d craved since they’d stumbled into the bedroom, pulling at each other’s clothes in slightly unhinged desperation. From the moment Taehyung had perched Jimin on the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees on the floor, Jimin had recognised that particular glint in Taehyung’s eyes. No matter how much Jimin begged, Taehyung was going to edge him until he cried, and that was that. Jimin had lost count of how many times Taehyung had dragged him to the very edge of ecstasy with his tongue, fingers, or both, before squeezing the base of his cock and stopping altogether.

The sheer intensity of the interrupted pleasure he’d already experienced had left him worn-out and desperate. When Taehyung had at last flipped Jimin on to his stomach and slid his slicked-up cock between his cheeks, Jimin had sobbed. “Please, Taehyungie, please,” he’d wailed, wriggling his ass in an attempt to get Taehyung’s cockhead to catch on his rim.

“You want this? You want me inside you?” Taehyung whispered maddeningly.  

“I wanted you inside me like an hour ago!” Jimin burst out.

Taehyung’s body shook with laughter. “Oh, Jiminie. I’m so pent-up that the moment I get inside you I’m gonna blow. So I wanted to make it good for you first…”

Reaching behind himself, Jimin wordlessly grabbed Taehyung’s cock and aligned it with his hole.

“Do you think I’m going to be any better after what you’ve put me through? Get. In. Me,” he grunted, pushing his hips back.

The mixture of Korean and English curse words that Taehyung let out as Jimin’s tight, warm, perfectly slick ass moulded itself around his cock had Jimin giggling into the pillow. “Don’t you dare fucking move,” Taehyung ordered, pinning Jimin to the bed with his weight. Every breath he dragged into his lungs creaked with the effort of holding himself back. Even though Jimin had already made it clear that he’d forgive him for blowing too soon, Taehyung was determined to prove to himself that he could last at least a few minutes.

“Fuck, Tae, it’s like I can almost feel you in my throat,” Jimin whined and with that, all of Taehyung’s self-control was very nearly shattered.

“Oh?” Taehyung murmured, softly kissing the nape of Jimin’s neck as his hips shuffled forward in a tentative thrust. “You like that? Does it feel good?”

The wanton moan Jimin let out was proof enough. “More,” he uttered brattily.

Slowly, sinuously, Taehyung dragged his cock in and out of Jimin, ensuring he felt every millimetre of its impressive size. The hot lava that spread through Jimin’s body with each stroke had him moaning and writhing, the pillow barely muffling his sounds of pleasure. Every time he thrust inside Jimin, Taehyung trembled, wild ecstasy bubbling just under the point of boiling over. Changing the angle of his movements, Taehyung aimed to rub right over Jimin’s prostate.

The strained mewl that fell from Jimin’s lips sent the remaining vestiges of Taehyung’s self-control right out the window. Drawing back, he began pounding into Jimin with animalistic fervour. A deep groan started in the base of his chest, harmonising perfectly with Jimin’s high-pitched cries.

“Tae! Taehyung! Fuck,” Jimin screamed, his voice breaking as it reached an impossibly high pitch. White-hot, decadent pleasure peaked inside him, the culmination of an hour’s denial. Though somewhere in his lust-addled brain he knew it was impossible, Jimin felt like his orgasm lasted days. Clenching, convulsing and gasping, his body soared and soared until he worried he would never come back to earth.

“My Jimin,” he heard Taehyung utter as thick, warm liquid spurted inside him, the extra wetness multiplying the feeling of Taehyung’s cock dragging against his already sensitive walls as Taehyung’s final thrusts slowed to a halt.

Completely spent, Jimin allowed Taehyung’s weight to push him even further into the mattress. Sweat, lube and other bodily fluids had the slightly nasty effect of sticking them together. Not that they minded.

“Love you,” Jimin whispered, so quietly that Taehyung wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Love you too,” he replied, feeling Jimin giggle beneath him.

“I wasn’t sure I’d even said that out loud,” Jimin admitted.

“Neither was I,” Taehyung responded. “But I thought I’d better tell you I loved you just in case.”

“You could tell me that a billion times and I’d never get sick of hearing it,” Jimin vowed.

Groaning, Taehyung peeled his sticky stomach off Jimin’s back and carefully slid out of him, wincing as a pool of lube and cum dribbled out on to the towel he’d thankfully remembered to put down earlier. “Sex is the most beautiful thing in existence, but it’s also kinda gross,” he mused. “Why does it have to be so messy?”

“Oh come on,” Jimin laughed. “At least in a same-sex relationship we don’t have to worry about unwanted pregnancies. So forgive me if it’s not such a big deal that we have to clean up a little.”

Eyes flashing with mirth, Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want me to put a baby in you, Jimin? Because I’m not sure that’s possible, but I’m sure as hell willing to try…”

Jimin squawked and rolled over in a flash, reaching out to tickle his boyfriend. Grabbing both of Jimin’s tiny hands with one large one, Taehyung pinned him in place and kissed him deeply until they were both panting, writhing and ready for round two.

*****

As he leaned in to cup Yoongi’s cheek and bring him in for a gentle kiss, Namjoon couldn’t fail to notice the faraway look in his lover’s eyes. Though he had intended for the kiss to be long and passionate, potentially leading to other delights, Namjoon made do with a soft peck and drew back, placing both hands on Yoongi’s shoulders.

“Wanna talk about it?” he queried.

Yoongi let out a sigh so heavy he visibly deflated. “I don’t know, Joon…”

“Yoongi. Why don’t you at least try?”

Looking away, Yoongi mumbled, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

A prickle of odd anticipation made itself known in Namjoon’s gut. “Who says you’re going to? Why not just try me?” he suggested, looking from one of Yoongi’s eyes to the other.

Wincing, Yoongi replied, “If you’re sure, Joon, but I think you’re going to be mad at me.”

“I can’t make you talk,” Namjoon acquiesced. “But I wish you would trust me enough to be honest about what’s bothering you.”

It was a strange feeling, Namjoon realised, to have Min Yoongi studying his face the same way he perused the telemetry from a practice session.

“All right, Joon. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Yoongi sighed. Taking a deep breath to buy himself an extra few seconds, Yoongi finally met Namjoon’s eyes properly.

“The thing is, Joon… I miss Hoseok,” he admitted, sorrow twisting his face. “And I know I shouldn’t, because of the way he played us both. But he told me something at the Korean Grand Prix that I haven’t been able to get out of my mind since,” Yoongi trailed off.

Namjoon swallowed, hard. “And that was…?”

Yoongi visibly steeled himself before responding. “Joon, he told me that he did what he did because he was falling in love with both of us. That he knows he fucked up, but that it all stemmed from love,” he blurted out, looking both relieved and terrified when the words were out, hanging heavily in the space between them.

Namjoon’s breath was knocked out of him as though he’d suffered a physical blow.

“Yoongi, why didn’t you tell me before?” he was finally able to whisper after a long pause.

“I panicked, Joon! What did you expect? I’ve never been in a situation like this before and I needed some time to think-“

“If you’d told me, we could have thought about things together,” Namjoon cut in firmly.

Yoongi eyeballed him with scepticism. “What?”

“Do you know how much I’ve been driving myself crazy? I can’t stop thinking about Hoseok, either,” he admitted.

Yoongi’s eyes blew wide. “Joon…”

“And here you are, telling me that he’s in love with both of us while clearly, we’re both in love with him,” Namjoon added in exasperation. “Don’t you see that this has a simple solution, Yoongi?”

“Joon, do you really mean… The three of us?” Yoongi asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Namjoon’s eyes sent out a fervent plea. “Couldn’t we at least try? I guess the first thing we should do is talk with Hoseok and see what he wants. How does that sound to you?”

Scrambling for his phone, Yoongi opened up his text message app. Pursing his lips in thought, he typed something and then showed the screen to Namjoon. “How about this?”

Min Yoongi (21.28):

Hoba.

There’s something important Joon and I need to talk with you about.

Are you free to come to our room?

“I guess that says everything it needs to,” Namjoon murmured. “OK. Send it.”

The small noise that signified a sent message informed them both that it was too late to change their minds now.

Yoongi and Namjoon could only sit in silence as they waited for Hoseok’s response. Far too quickly, Yoongi’s phone pinged.

“Oh my God,” he breathed. “He’s coming now.”

Jumping up, Namjoon rushed around the room, righting anything that was the slightest bit out of position. He was still darting from place to place when the suite’s doorbell chimed.

“Do you want to get it or should I?” Namjoon asked, his normally unshakeable voice trembling.

“Let’s go together,” Yoongi decided, standing up slowly. Steadily, they walked toward the door, gripping each other’s hands tightly for support.

Upon opening the door, Namjoon was struck by the uncertainty on Hoseok’s face.

“Hi,” Hoseok offered, lips curling into a small smile.

“Please come in,” Yoongi rushed out, moving aside to allow Hoseok entry. Namjoon ushered Hoseok to the sitting room, indicating that he should sit on one of the sofas. He and Yoongi sat on the other, keeping a respectable distance between their bodies.

“Uh. So, you wanted to talk to me?” Hoseok asked, his eyes darting between the pair.

“Yeah,” Namjoon burst out. “The thing is, Hoba, Yoongi just told me about the conversation you two had in Yeongam-“

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Hoseok cut him off. “I didn’t mean to make either of you feel uncomfortable… Fuck, I’m an idiot as well as an asshole. Please, don’t let the fact that I can’t keep my dumb feelings to myself get in the way of the good thing you two have going here-“

“Hoba!” Yoongi interrupted. “Will you just listen?”

“Oh,” Hoseok uttered, sitting back a little. “OK.”

A look passed between Yoongi and Namjoon.

“Hoba, we’ve been thinking,” Namjoon began carefully. “And the thing is, we – both of us – miss you,” he admitted. “So, ultimately, that led us to wonder whether you would be willing to see how things work with the three of us.”

Hoseok’s surprised expression was almost comical. For long moments he just stared between Namjoon and Yoongi, his mouth opening and closing but no sound making it past his lips.

Nervously, Yoongi reached for Namjoon’s hand, squeezing it when Hoseok finally spoke.

“You… want us to be together? The three of us?” he repeated in astonishment.

“Well, we love each other, you love us both, and we both love you, so yeah, it seems to make sense,” Yoongi mumbled, looking down at his lap.

“Oh my God,” Hoseok breathed. “Oh my GOD. You’re serious.”

The three of them fell into an uneasy silence.

Namjoon was about to break it, saying something that let Hoseok off the hook when the sound of sobbing suddenly became loud in the room. Looking up sharply, he saw that Hoseok was crying. Fat tears rushed down his cheeks as he sniffled inelegantly.

“You both… want me? Really?”

“Really,” Namjoon and Yoongi replied in unexpected unison.

Quick as a flash, Hoseok was off the other sofa and running toward them. Barely did they have a moment to register what was happening and Hoseok was squeezing himself between the pair of them, throwing his arms around them both.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Hoseok laughed, tears still streaming down his face. “I thought I’d fucked up so badly that I could never hope to be happy again. But this is beyond my wildest dreams,” he admitted. Pausing, he looked from Namjoon to Yoongi and back again with utterly love-drenched eyes. Inexorably drawn to both men, Hoseok couldn’t decide which one to kiss first.

Exchanging a look over his head, both Namjoon and Yoongi leaned in to press soft, warm kisses to the corners of Hoseok’s mouth.

“Oh,” he breathed, allowing himself to sink into the squishy bliss of being loved.

*****

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates

Unable to sleep, Seokjin found his eyes irrepressibly drawn to the masculine contours of Jeongguk’s body. Still bare after their earlier lovemaking, he’d merely pulled the covers up to his waist, leaving his marble-hewn, intricately inked torso on full display. The casual strength present in his lover’s body always took Seokjin’s breath away. Sure, after many years of intense training, Seokjin was also incredibly strong. But it was the effortlessness of it in Jeongguk that truly impressed Seokjin. Smirking, he thought back to the early days of their training together, and the way Hoseok had defused a potentially explosive situation. And wow, had it turned out to be explosive – in quite a different way to what Seokjin had expected.

It wasn’t just his boyfriend’s undeniable beauty that was keeping Seokjin awake. This was the very first time he’d gone into the final race weekend with a points lead but no guaranteed championship. All of his three World Championships had been won long before the final race. It had been nice, really, knowing that no matter what he did, he’d already sewn up the title. To add to that, in two of his three championship years, Seokjin had been able to seal off the season with a dominant victory just for fun.

This time, however, a dominant victory was really the only guaranteed way for him to become champion. With Jeongguk a mere nine points behind and Taehyung only fourteen, Seokjin was still the firm favourite. But he knew that in racing, there were no certainties until he’d crossed the finish line and the results had been declared. Kim Taehyung had been astonishingly good at Lusail, Seokjin had to admit. Given the tribulations Taehyung had endured during the course of the season, Seokjin was even more impressed with his tenacity.

It wasn’t the idea of losing the championship that sparked unease in Seokjin. Rather, it was the idea of winning a fourth. He’d been humbled enough to join the ranks of champions such as Sir Jackie Stewart, Niki Lauda, Sir Jack Brabham and Ayrton Senna with three. But to sit alongside Fangio and Prost at four… Well, that seemed simply ludicrous for a little boy from South Korea. Maybe I won’t have to worry about that, after all, Seokjin thought wryly. Anything could happen in racing – and as he well knew, it often did.

As for himself, Seokjin still hadn’t given Namjoon a final answer about what they’d discussed in Las Vegas. He simply wasn’t ready, yet. Namjoon had been patient, as ever, quietly pulling threads together behind the scenes in preparation for whatever Seokjin decided.

Only four people were privy to his dilemma, including himself. Only four people needed to be. Seokjin shuddered as he imagined the fallout if he really decided to go through with it.

Ah well. The world will keep turning, regardless, he thought to himself as he snuggled closer to Jeongguk and attempted to sleep.

Jimin nuzzled his nose into Taehyung’s neck, inhaling deeply the subtle, clean scent of his skin and hair, the slight tang of sweat adding an addictive spice. Taehyung was currently sleeping peacefully. And for that, Jimin was immensely glad. Over the past week they’d spent almost all of their training sessions focusing on mental strength. At this point in the season, drivers were in such peak physical condition that it was more important not to tire them out than to struggle through hours of extra fitness training. Taehyung had worked so hard, so conscientiously, that Jimin felt it would be spectacularly unfair for him not to win the championship this year.

And yet, fairness very rarely came into the final results. Jimin hoped that whatever the outcome, Taehyung would hold his head high, knowing he’d driven a brilliant campaign. A gaping pit opened in the depths of his stomach as he imagined the very real possibility that Taehyung wouldn’t win the championship. Unable to suppress his shudder, he felt Taehyung stir.

“J’min? Y’OK?” Taehyung’s molasses-thick, sleepy voice mumbled.

“Fine, baby. Go back to sleep,” he soothed, grateful to hear Taehyung’s breathing fall back into its deep, even rhythm. 

Whether Taehyung won the title or he didn’t, Jimin would still love him with every fibre of his being. That much was certain. Once the season was over, he could actually start the process of moving in with Taehyung, and with that, the rest of their lives together. There would be another season in just a few short months, and Taehyung would undoubtedly be competitive in that one, too. Life will go on, whatever the outcome, he thought to himself, trying desperately not to hope too much for something that was out of his hands.

Eyes flying open as he woke from a dream in which nothing had gone right, Namjoon’s heart rate settled as he recognised where he was, and more importantly, who he was with. Yoongi’s head was pillowed comfortably on Namjoon’s right pec as he snored lightly, his petal-like lips slightly open as he blew air out of them. Further down, Hoseok lay with the side of his face resting on Namjoon’s stomach, his caramel-coloured hair tousled and his pretty mouth forming a heart-shaped smile as he slept deep and restful. Though it had only been a few days, the new arrangement between the three of them had felt like coming home. Through the tentative shyness of finding their way together, there had been so much laughter, as well as an almost unbelievable amount of physical pleasure. The businessman in Namjoon wondered whether it had really been the best idea to start this new relationship just before the final race of the season when the Silver Bullets had so much on the line… But ultimately, he realised that it was going to happen regardless, and meddling with the timing any more than he already had may well have been disastrous for his sanity.

In just three days, the World Drivers Championship would be decided once again. And after that… Well, that was out of his hands, Namjoon realised with a jolt. He was, of course, ready for whatever decision Seokjin felt it was right to make. But not being able to tell Yoongi and Hoseok was taking its toll. Especially given how heavily involved they were with Seokjin, as his race engineer and performance coach. But Seokjin had made him swear not to discuss it with anyone outside of the situation itself. When Seokjin had admitted that he’d only told Jeongguk what was happening to reassure him that he was loved, Namjoon instinctively understood how important it was to his driver that secrecy was observed.

Whatever happens, I’ll do it all again next year, Namjoon mused. As long as the Silver Bullets existed and Kim Namjoon was the team principal, there would be more of the same in his future.

*****

Wandering into the garage before the final first practice session of the year, Jeongguk could almost taste the tension in the air. How long had it been since the championship hung in the balance up until the final race? He remembered that before Seokjin’s dominance there were often two drivers in the hunt late in the season. But three? Jeongguk couldn’t remember seeing anything quite like this. And yet here he was, in his rookie year, an integral part of it.

Over the course of the season, Jeongguk had experienced so many ‘pinch me’ moments that he was surprised situations like this could still affect him. And yet, as he stood at the rear of the Silver Bullets garage, surveying the hive of activity taking place before it was time to get in the car, emotion surged in him so powerfully that he briefly needed to lean against the wall to steady himself. Seokjin’s dilemma rushed headlong into his mind, causing Jeongguk to shake his head firmly. You have to stop worrying about Jin right now, he told himself firmly. He could ill afford to focus any of his precious attention on his boyfriend’s stressful situation when his own championship was at stake. Knowing that still didn’t stop the ache from gnawing at his gut. But Jeongguk simply had to focus on himself. At least until the race was over…

“Blistering pace, Tae!” Hyungsik crowed over the radio as the chequered flag flew at the end of FP1. “You’re sitting on top by half a second over Jeon. The King is in a relatively distant third.”

“Hmm,” Taehyung replied. “His Majesty will get closer, I’d bet my house on it.”

“Jimin is giving me a very wide-eyed look right now,” Hyungsik laughed. “Maybe don’t talk about betting your house on anything when he’s just put his flat on the market or you both might end up homeless.”

Jimin’s put his flat on the market? Taehyung thought giddily, thrilled to have further confirmation that Jimin was serious about moving in with him. That familiar feeling of gooey, marshmallow-sticky love filled his chest, making him smile so wide his cheeks hurt. Whether I win the championship or not, I still get my ultimate prize, Taehyung reminded himself, Jimin’s bright, beautiful grin filling his heart and mind.

Namjoon pored over the telemetry of both his drivers, stopping to sigh and rest his head in his hands. He couldn’t shake the feeling that had been with him since he’d awoken from his bad dream the night before. Something just didn’t feel right. Not that Namjoon could pinpoint what that was. The obvious problem was Kim Taehyung topping the timesheets. But in fairness, they’d only had one practice session and there were still two left to go. Namjoon knew that his drivers were not only brilliant, but competitive as hell. He could rest assured that they would drag every last millisecond of speed out of that car between now and qualifying.

But what if that’s not enough? Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that they had already sewn up the Constructors Championship. And that it was more than likely that one of his drivers would hold the World Drivers Championship trophy aloft come Sunday afternoon.

Probably Seokjin.

But also maybe Jeongguk.

What if it’s neither of them? What if Kim Taehyung actually pulls it off this time?

That desperately unwelcome thought lodged in his mind and refused to let go. Namjoon had become accustomed to winning. Idly, he wondered how he’d manage if he didn’t.

Jimin eyed Taehyung with loving concern. “I know you’re going to hate this question, but how are you feeling?” he ventured, placing a gentle hand on Taehyung’s bicep.

Taehyung’s eyes flashed with amusement. “It’s not that deep, Jiminie,” he laughed. “I guess I’m happy, because I was fastest in FP1. I’m ready to take the fight to the Bullets in FP2. Tomorrow I’ll drive as fast as possible and on Sunday I’ll drive as fast and as smart as possible. And if all that goes to plan, hopefully I’ll win the championship. That’s really all there is to it,” he ended, shrugging.

As Taehyung was speaking, an annoyed crease formed between Jimin’s eyebrows. It’s not that deep, my ass, he scoffed internally. But Jimin knew that there was no use in pushing Taehyung to talk about his feelings when he wasn’t ready. All he could do was be there for Taehyung, as and when he needed it. Instead of giving voice to his internal monologue. Jimin simply smiled and opened his arms for a hug. “Proud of you,” he murmured. Squeezing his love extra tight, Jimin couldn’t help but smirk as he felt Taehyung melt into his embrace. Jimin wasn’t often given to smugness. And yet, it was impossible not to indulge in just a little of it when he was the reason the great philanderer Kim Taehyung was settling down and staying faithful. Really, who could blame him for feeling such a way?

“Hoseok?” Jeongguk grabbed his attention as the performance coach was wandering off in search of food. “Do you have a moment?”

Sighing internally, Hoseok composed his face into a welcoming smile. “For you, Guk? Of course,” he replied.

“We can talk over lunch,” Jeongguk grinned as Hoseok’s stomach emitted a particularly savage growl.

Hoseok burst out laughing. “That would be ideal, thanks.”

Tucked away in a corner of the Silver Bullets hospitality area. Jeongguk and Hoseok exchanged hushed words over their nutritionally balanced, dietitian-approved meals.

“I don’t know what to do,” Jeongguk admitted sheepishly, raising his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

Hoseok’s heart squeezed. Jeongguk, for all his maturity and mental toughness, looked absurdly young in that moment. His wide, sparkling eyes dominated his face as he chewed nervously on his petite lower lip.

“I hear you, Guk. My question is, what exactly can you do? I think it’s about acknowledging what’s in your hands and what is out of them,” Hoseok replied seriously.

“Hmm. That makes a whole lot of sense,” Jeongguk agreed.

“Like, you can’t control the weather. Or what other drivers do over the next couple of days. Or whether your car has a mechanical issue. You know the drill. But you can control yourself. What you do in the situations you find yourself in.”

Jeongguk nodded, his eyes taking on a steely glint. “Yeah. All I can really do is take charge of myself. And whether that’s enough to win me the championship is out of my hands,” he admitted. “But I’ll be damned if I leave anything on the table in my pursuit of it.”

Hoseok couldn’t suppress his grin. Part of him sincerely hoped that Jeongguk could do the impossible and lift the World Drivers Championship trophy in his first year in the sport. Although he knew there would be many other opportunities for this spectacularly skilled driver who was still only beginning to show his true potential.

Of course, another part of Hoseok was quite desperate to see Seokjin lift his fourth. Having worked closely with The King since his early days in the sport, Hoseok’s connection with Seokjin had long since moved past the point of simply being colleagues. He’d been one of the first people allowed to see past Seokjin’s aloof exterior to see the goofy, tender-hearted young man underneath the astonishing good looks and generational talent.

Hoseok pondered his words to Jeongguk and realised that ultimately, it was out of his hands, too. What would be, would be, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to influence it.

*****

There weren’t many situations in which Kim Taehyung hated being proven right. But seeing Kim Seokjin’s name in P1 at the end of Free Practice 2 was definitely one of them.

“I’d have kept the house,” he’d grumbled to Hyungsik upon returning to the garage. Poring over his telemetry, and Vernon’s too, Taehyung was able to take note of the places he was losing time. Briefly, he wondered how Jeon was feeling after being relegated to third. Probably telling himself it doesn’t matter, because there are no points or grid positions earned from free practice, Taehyung thought amusedly to himself, knowing full well he was telling himself the same thing about being beaten by Seokjin.

Jimin, over to the side, was definitely hovering. Judging by the cheeky look he gave Taehyung every time their eyes met, he knew it, too. Feeling a curl of lust expand in his core, the moment Taehyung was finished the post-practice debrief he grabbed a surprised Jimin by the arm, frogmarching him into his driver room and slamming the door, pressing him firmly against it.

“Tae, wha- Oh,” Jimin’s words were truncated by a seeking pair of lips on his neck, travelling up to his succulent, ruby-red mouth.  

The fire in Taehyung’s eyes had Jimin’s body temperature surging, definitely not helped by the dexterous hands that were working to untuck his polo from the ridiculous bright red trousers all team personnel were forced to wear. When Taehyung cupped the distended front of Jimin’s trousers and let out a satisfied grunt, Jimin worried he might just keel over. Gathering the frayed edges of his sanity, Jimin made a weak attempt to protest. “Taehyung, we can go back to the hotel now. We don’t have to do this here.”

Taehyung answered that by unzipping Jimin’s trousers and shoving them, along with his boxer briefs, right down to his knees.

“Well, all right, if you insist,” Jimin breathed, his eyes already rolling back in his head as Taehyung spat on his palm and gripped him gently but firmly. A few strokes in and Jimin was already panting and lamenting the fact that he wouldn’t last long. “Tae, baby, I’m close,” he whispered. Aware that the rest of the team were milling about just outside the closed door, Jimin bit his lip to muffle his whines.

Taehyung dropped to his knees on the floor. “Come on my face,” he demanded. “Give it to me, Jimin,” he goaded, grinning wickedly.

With Taehyung’s long fingers pumping his shaft and his warm, wet tongue tickling his cockhead just right, Jimin sucked in a deep breath and exploded, painting his lover’s face with strings of pearly white.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me, get it all out,” Taehyung urged, working Jimin gently through the aftershocks. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he sighed, reaching his clean hand up to stroke Jimin’s cheek.

“Oof,” Jimin uttered, slumping against the door.

Laughing, Taehyung made sure to hold him up. “You gonna be OK to stand on your own?” he teased. “I just need to clean up a little.”

Jimin gave a weak nod. His head was still swimming from the unexpectedness of it all, his body buzzing with the aftereffects of his orgasm. Sighing happily as Taehyung carefully tucked him back into his underwear and pulled his trousers back up, he watched lazily as his beloved sauntered over to the sink and cleaned his face with soap and cold water.

“Oops, got a little in my hair. Better clean it now, before I shower later. If it goes anywhere near hot water I’m never getting it out,” Taehyung chuckled.

Jimin snorted at the casual nature of his aside. Like it was totally normal for his performance coach to come all over his face in his driver room right after Free Practice. Well… Jimin supposed that it was fairly normal, nowadays. Without giving it a moment’s thought, Jimin’s feet propelled him over to where Taehyung stood at the sink and he wrapped his boyfriend in the warmest of back hugs.

“What’s this for?” Taehyung rumbled, amused.

“Just… I love you,” Jimin purred softly. “And I can’t wait to move in with you as soon as we’re back home.”

Taehyung spun around. “Is it true what Hyungsikkie said earlier? You really put your flat on the market?” he asked, his eyes bright.

“Yeah,” Jimin admitted. “I instructed the realtor today. I didn’t think there was any point waiting.”

That very moment, Jimin was engulfed in the biggest, safest, most loving hug he’d ever experienced. “I’m so happy, Jiminie,” Taehyung cooed. “The fact that I get to wake up next to you every day? It feels like a dream,” he admitted.

Jimin grinned. “For me too, TaeTae,” he admitted. “But as exciting as that is, we have something important to do first. Are you with me?”

“Always,” Taehyung replied, sealing his affirmation with a tender kiss.

*****

“You’re in fantastic form,” Yoongi murmured to Seokjin as they pored over the telemetry after Free Practice 2. That much was obvious. And yet, his driver’s attitude seemed more than a little off. Yoongi was willing to chalk it up to the nerves of taking the championship lead into the final race. Although The King rarely got nervous – or at least, he rarely admitted to it.

“Thanks, Yoongi. But it doesn’t matter what I do today. The hard work is still to come,” Seokjin demurred, ducking his head a little. “Can I see Guk’s telemetry? I have a feeling he gets on the power a little earlier than I do at certain points.”

Glancing over at Yeonjun and Jeongguk, heads together and discussing the data intently, Yoongi grinned. “Sure thing. Let’s analyse.”

Later, Seokjin’s eyes wandered over to Jeongguk and he was pleased to notice his boyfriend’s gaze was already trained on him. Inclining his head just a little, Seokjin signalled that they should get out of there. Jeongguk was only too happy to oblige.

Several hours later, after a room service dinner and their umpteenth viewing of Iron Man, Jeongguk’s head drooped against Seokjin’s shoulder and he felt himself being pulled under by the siren call of sleep.

“Baby’s tired?” Seokjin murmured, rubbing gently along Jeongguk’s back.

“Mm,” Jeongguk replied, his eyes half-closed.

“Let’s get baby to bed, then,” Seokjin declared, hefting his surprisingly heavy boyfriend into a bridal carry.

“Jin! What are you doing?” Jeongguk laughed, suddenly wide awake.

Seokjin pouted, mirth dancing in his eyes. “I thought I was helping,” he quipped before dumping Jeongguk unceremoniously on the bed.

“What would actually be helpful is if you get your ass over here and hug me,” Jeongguk grumbled.

With a fond roll of his eyes, Seokjin did as he was asked.

*****

The atmosphere crackled and pulsed, sharp arcs of tension shattering the air at Yas Marina Circuit on Qualifying Saturday.

Taehyung had barely uttered a word since he and Jimin had arrived. Headphones on, he’d taken up residence in his driver room with Jimin following quietly behind.

Seokjin and Jeongguk had decided to stick to separate schedules. Jeongguk, bursting with energy, arrived early in the morning in order to do his traditional run around the circuit. Whereas Seokjin preferred to do that on the Thursday afternoon, feeling his Saturday needs were better served by having more time to sleep.

They’d discussed their need for solitude, agreeing to stay out of each other’s way until the qualifying hour was over. Taking it even further than that, Seokjin had decided to move to the other bedroom in their hotel suite that night. As close as Seokjin and Jeongguk were, they were still championship rivals. And it was incredibly difficult for them to justify spending the night before crunch time sleeping next to the man who stood between themselves and motorsport’s biggest prize.

Namjoon smiled knowingly as he registered the coolness between his two drivers.  They’re still racers, underneath it all, he thought wryly. And nobody wants to be beaten by his teammate. Even when his teammate happens to be his boyfriend.

For the time being, he was able to stop obsessing over what may or may not happen after Sunday’s race. Realistically, he knew that he had no actual influence over Seokjin’s decision. Reminding himself of that, Namjoon was able to liberate himself from his sense of responsibility over the results.  

Jeongguk took a moment of quiet reflection before Free Practice 3. He was able to hold on to that calm throughout the session, delivering a series of astonishingly fast, accurate laps which had him easily topping the times. I can only control what’s in my hands, he reminded himself yet again.

Seokjin’s session wasn’t quite as silky-smooth.

“That’s P2, Jin. Guk was just a little too fast,” Yoongi let him know as they finished the session.

“I’ll get him later,” Seokjin vowed.

Yoongi privately wondered what Jeongguk would have to say about that.

“That’s P3, Tae. Excellent effort. You’ve been in the top three in all practice sessions,” Hyungsik congratulated Taehyung.

“Meh,” Taehyung replied flippantly. “I don’t like being behind the Bullets. But I won’t let that happen later,” he added.

Jimin, sitting tensely beside Hyungsik, prayed that Taehyung would be able to deliver on his confident assertion.

As his drivers peeled into the pitlane for the final qualifying session of the 2025 season, Namjoon paced the pit wall, his nerves making it impossible for him to stay still. Whatever happened over the next twenty-seven hours, both his drivers would be attending the end-of-year prizegiving for the top three in the championship.

He hoped, desperately, that one of them would end the weekend as World Driver’s Champion.

“Ready, Guk?” Yeonjun asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Jeongguk replied with steely determination.

Jeongguk’s words proved sharply accurate. Flashing around the first half of the track’s long straights and gentle curves, he navigated the tight, twisty final sector with a deft touch, already troubling the lap record on his very first attempt.

“Fantastic, Gukkie! You nearly got the lap record already. It’s only a matter of time,” Yeonjun cheered.

Seokjin’s first lap was similarly excellent, replacing Jeongguk’s in first position.

The real first blood, however, was reserved for Kim Taehyung who broke the existing lap record in the final moments of Q1.

“Tae! That’s a new lap record! P1, obviously,” Hyungsik blurted out.

“Sweet,” Taehyung drawled, bringing the car back to the garage to prepare for Q2. Silently, he took on some hydration and perused his data as the mechanics prepared the car for the second part of qualifying.

Jeongguk, however, was not quite so calm. That bastard! The lap record should have been mine, he fumed to himself. Ah well, he thought, I have a few more chances to go even faster.

Head down and focus honed in the second part of qualifying, Jeongguk delivered two more laps of Yas Marina that knocked the benchmark down even further. With twenty seconds left on the clock, he was sitting comfortably in P1.

It wasn’t until he was driving back to the garage that Jeongguk noticed his name had been shunted down to P2. The name above his?

Kim Seokjin.

“What. A. Lap, Jin! Unbelievable,” Yoongi crowed. “Think you can replicate that in Q3?”

“I can do better than replicate it,” Seokjin replied coolly. “Just watch me.”

“P3, Tae. Don’t stress it, anything can happen in Q3.”

“Where’s Vern?” Taehyung asked, ignoring Hyungsik’s words.

“P6. Behind the MacPhersons,” Hyungsik admitted. “Not his best lap. But we’ll see if he can learn something from you.”

“Let’s see if I can learn something from me, too,” Taehyung muttered.

Jeongguk’s blood was hovering just below boiling point as he drew near to the end of his warm-up lap. First, Kim Taehyung had beaten him to the top in Q1. Then, Seokjin had won the intra-team battle in Q2. But Q3 is when it really matters, Jeongguk reminded himself. This is my time to shine.

His first lap certainly glinted with greatness. Not quite re-breaking the lap record currently held by Seokjin, it was tantalisingly close. Fortunately, neither Seokjin himself nor Kim Taehyung could lower the benchmark on their first run.

Jeongguk allowed himself a brief moment of relief. And yet, he knew the battle was far from over.

For fucksake, not now, Taehyung thought to himself as his concentration dipped and he made a small unforced error on his second hot lap. It was still fast enough to put him in P2 behind Jeon, but not enough for provisional pole position. He’d have to try harder next time.

Seokjin was eerily calm as he crossed the line after his second run. He knew the lap was good. But how good?

“P1 again!” Yoongi quickly let him know.

Relief flooded through Seokjin. It probably wasn’t enough for pole, given that the times usually improved on the final run. But it gave him a solid platform to rest upon, at least.

With three and a half minutes on the clock and all ten remaining drivers in the pits, it was Kim Seokjin in P1, Jeon Jeongguk in P2 and Kim Taehyung in P3. Nothing surprising about that. Any of them could still win the championship from those starting positions, although Seokjin looked the most likely candidate at that point in time.

Jeongguk, though, was not about to give up without a fight. So fired up that his blood may as well have been rocket fuel, he tore around his final lap at an utterly hair-raising pace. As he flew over the line, the crowd gasped as a new lap record flashed up, a full three tenths of a second quicker than what Seokjin had managed in Q2.

Seokjin was deep in thought as he began his final hot lap. This is it, he told himself. This could be your very last chance at a pole position. So you’d better make it count, he told himself firmly. Unlike Jeongguk’s, Seokjin’s lap appeared utterly cool and controlled, with no bouncing over kerbs or brushes against the barriers. Holding his breath as he waited for Yoongi’s confirmation, Seokjin exhaled loudly when his engineer informed him that it was P1, faster than Jeongguk by a mere three thousandths of a second. But Seokjin knew full well three thousandths was more than one needed. Relief flooding his body, Seokjin set about cooling down the car.

“Remember our visualisation,” Jimin had said just before Taehyung got in the car for qualifying. “Remember what it looks like when you drive that ideal lap. And know that you can, and will, achieve it.” With Jimin’s mellifluous voice echoing in his ears, Taehyung drew on every last drop of skill and tenacity he had. By the time he crossed the line he couldn’t remember a moment of the lap he’d just delivered. Taehyung had no idea whether it had been good, bad, or indifferent.

Until Hyungsik yelled in his ear, that is.

“KIM TAEHYUNG! THAT’S POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLE POSITION! Half a second off the lap record Kim Seokjin literally just set.”

“Oh my God, I did it,” Taehyung whispered in disbelief. “I’m on pole for the final race of the season!”

“You certainly are,” Hyungsik confirmed. “Kim Seokjin P2, Jeon Jeongguk P3. Nothing new there, I guess.”

It’ll still be a massive uphill battle to make that championship mine, Taehyung thought. But most of it wasn’t up to him. And he’d taken care of what was, right now. The rest was tomorrow’s job.

Lining up for the top three drivers’ press conference were a disgruntled Jeongguk, a calm Seokjin and a cautiously optimistic Taehyung. In tacit agreement, all three cut short questions about how they felt about their chances of winning the championship and thankfully, the conference was over in less than ten minutes.

Throughout it all, Taehyung was desperate to get out of there and throw his arms around Jimin.

Conversation was sparse between the two of them that evening. It seemed as though everything that they needed to say had already been said. Wordlessly, they lay entwined in the enormous bed watching a movie that Taehyung couldn’t have summarised five minutes after it ended, so stretched was his attention span.

“You want a massage before we sleep?” Jimin murmured, his voice heavy with fatigue.

Taehyung smiled warmly. “Yes please, love. But no funny business, I need all my energy for tomorrow,” he chided teasingly.

Jimin faked shock. “Kim Taehyung! What do you think I am?”

Grinning in response, Taehyung replied, “The love of my life. That’s what you are. And I just want to be close to you,” he said simply, melting as Jimin giggled, his boyfriend’s magic hands soothing his aching muscles.

Seokjin couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that his bed was both more spacious and colder than usual. Jeongguk was only in the next room, but Seokjin had grown so used to the warmth of his body and the gentle huff of his breathing that his lover might as well have been a thousand miles away. I have to give him the space he needs, Seokjin reminded himself. Just as he was about to succumb to sleep, the door to his room opened just a crack.

“Jin?” Jeongguk’s dear, cotton-soft voice reached his ears.

“What’s up, Guk?” Seokjin replied, squinting toward the light from the hallway.

“Never mind, it’s stupid,” Jeongguk sighed.

Seokjin sat up. “Hey. If something bothers you, it’s never stupid.”

“Can I sleep here?” Jeongguk blurted out. “I know you probably want your space, but I’m struggling to relax without you by my side,” he admitted.

Oh, Seokjin thought. I wasn’t alone in my feelings after all.

“Come here, lovely,” he cooed, pulling the covers aside and patting the space beside him. As Jeongguk gratefully snuggled in, Seokjin felt his own heart rate slow and his breathing steady. “I wasn’t doing so well without you, either,” he whispered, stroking Jeongguk’s soft, dark hair.

“Then we should stay together always,” Jeongguk pouted. “Let’s not be dumb about it from now on, OK?”

“Deal,” Seokjin agreed, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Once again, Namjoon lay wide awake in the small hours as Yoongi and Hoseok slept peacefully beside him. They’d spent most of the evening discussing the possibilities of tomorrow. Namjoon and Hoseok were both torn over who they wanted to win. But Yoongi had no such qualms, being Seokjin’s race engineer.

“I like Guk a lot, and I’m super proud of the job he’s done this year. But the championship should be Jin’s,” he’d said firmly, his face implacable as Namjoon and Hoseok both tried to sway him with their arguments.

At 4am, when all masks were off, Namjoon had to admit to himself that he agreed with Yoongi. The scrupulously fair team principal part of him hated to admit it. But Jeongguk’s time was yet to come. And Jin’s? Well… It could be over sooner than his legion of adoring fans dared to imagine.

*****

Striding into Yas Marina circuit beside Taehyung, Jimin couldn’t help but admire his boyfriend’s beauty. Taehyung had really pulled out all the stops in a crisply tailored cream linen suit and forest-green shirt, topped off by a matching off-white trilby hat with a green ribbon and a pair of designer sunglasses. There was no doubt that Taehyung looked every inch the world champion in waiting. And yet, Jimin could feel him trembling through their interwoven hands. Desperately, he tried to transmit his support through physical touch, hoping that would help to ground Taehyung a little.

Their usual visualisation exercise done, Taehyung had dressed in his race suit. Jimin made to leave his driver room when Taehyung stopped him by gently grabbing his wrist.

“Jimin?”

“Yes, Tae?”

The uneasy expression in Taehyung’s eyes made Jimin’s stomach turn a backflip.

“Will you still love me if I don’t win the championship today?” Taehyung rushed out, immediately averting his eyes.

Jimin stared at Taehyung in complete shock. “Kim Taehyung!” he scolded. “Are you being serious right now?”

Taehyung muttered something inaudible.

“Look at me,” Jimin insisted, tilting Taehyung’s chin up. “I love you. Not the idea of you being a world champion. Heck, you could decide to walk away from this sport tomorrow and not a single thing would change between us, except that we’d both be out of a job,” Jimin said laughingly.

A split second later, he was in Taehyung’s arms.

“Thank heaven I met you,” Taehyung murmured. “Thank heaven I chose you to be part of my team. Because I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like without you in it.”

“Then don’t,” Jimin advised. “Because I’m not planning for you to find out.” Pulling away just enough to look Taehyung in the eyes, Jimin told him, “You know what you need to do, today. So all you do now is get that done. Nothing else is up to you, remember.”

“I will,” Taehyung agreed. “I’ll do everything in my power, and let go of the things that aren’t.”

Wistfully, Jimin realised the time. Untangling himself and taking a step away, he asked, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Taehyung grimaced. “Anyway, I have to be. It’s time to go,” he pointed out. “Stay here if you like. At least it’s quiet.”

“I think I need a moment,” Jimin admitted. “Thanks, Tae. And… good luck,” he added, fighting the urge to run right back into Taehyung’s arms.  

Sending Jimin a tiny wave, Taehyung strode toward the door.

It was only when Taehyung had disappeared from sight that Jimin allowed his nerves to take effect. Heart pounding, he sat down on the sofa and attempted to breathe himself calm.

Though they’d woken with their bodies intertwined, as usual, Jeongguk and Seokjin had parted ways after breakfast, thinking it best to maintain some space on such a momentous day.

Upon his arrival at the circuit that morning, Seokjin had gone immediately to Namjoon’s office.

“I’ll have a decision for you by the end of the race,” he’d said flatly, turning on his heel and striding back out of the room.

Namjoon had barely had a moment to register Seokjin’s words before he was already gone.

Well, at least I’ll have some clarity, he thought uneasily.

Other than a few longing glances from one side of the garage to the other, Seokjin and Jeongguk didn’t communicate that day. Jeongguk couldn’t stop himself from wondering whether their dynamic would be different if one of them won this year’s championship. Sure, Seokjin was already a three-time champ. But he hadn’t won any of those against Jeongguk. And if Jeongguk pulled off the insanity of becoming a giant-killer at this early stage of his career, what would that do to them?

Only time would tell. And there were fifty-eight laps to race before they would know.

Strangely, as he pulled into his grid box at the front of the field, Taehyung wasn’t nervous as he waited for the lights to go out.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Nineteen other engines burbled behind him, all waiting for the precise moment when the lights went off.

After what felt like an interminable hold, they were racing.

Taehyung’s throttle hadn’t fully engaged at the start. He’d managed to salvage it, but by the time he was up to full racing speed he’d seen both Silver Bullets and both the MacPhersons zoom past him.

Damn it, he thought as he rushed through the gears, desperate to catch up.

Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat as he saw Taehyung struggle at the start. No, no, NO! he wailed internally as four cars shot past Taehyung and Kim Seokjin took the early lead. Could it be all over, already? he wondered. Catching himself, he remembered that there were still fifty-eight laps to complete.

“What happened to Taehyung?” Seokjin asked Yoongi once the excitement of the start had calmed a little.

“Bogged down at the start,” Yoongi explained. “He’s sitting in fifth right now.”

A pang of sorrow hit Seokjin in the gut. He didn’t want it to end like this. “Ah well. Still fifty-seven laps to go, am I right, Yoongi?”

Yoongi’s low chuckle was enough of a response.

Jeongguk was pretty thrilled to find himself in second place immediately following the start. He’d thought it would take more effort than that to gain a place… But while Taehyung was currently out of the way, his beloved boyfriend was not. Seokjin was doing what he did best and controlling the race from the front. Ten laps in and Seokjin hadn’t put a tyre wrong.

He almost never did.

Was this how Jeongguk’s championship ended? With a whimper?

Yeonjun’s voice rang out in his headset just as Jeongguk finished that thought.

“Don’t give up hope, Guk. We’re only ten laps in. Anything could happen.”

Three laps later, Jeongguk was completing his first pit stop. Seokjin had pitted the previous lap, the Silver Bullets team as fast and efficient as ever with both cars.

Which didn’t help Jeongguk at all. Shamefully, he’d been hoping for something to go wrong with Seokjin’s stop so that he could steal the lead. But instead, he was back out on track two seconds behind the three-time champ.

At least Kim Taehyung was still languishing in fifth place.

“Why didn’t the undercut work?” Taehyung fumed on the radio.

“Uh… you didn’t make up enough time, Tae,” Hyungsik said flatly. “Nothing we can do about that from here.”

Grumbling, he nevertheless decided it was time to get his head down and do whatever he could to salvage his situation. Frustratingly, the MacPhersons had so much straight line speed that Taehyung couldn’t show them a front wheel. He could feel his temper growing hotter and hotter as every lap passed that he failed to make a move.

“Tae, Kim Seokijn is pitting this lap,” Hyungsik told him. “What do you want to do?”

“Hold off,” Taehyung replied gruffly. He didn’t know why, exactly, but he had one of those gut feelings that he’d learned to trust.

Kim Seokjin pitted, coming back out in P9.

Jeon Jeongguk pitted the following lap, emerging in P10.

Taehyung stayed out.

“Your tyres have gotta be holding on by a thread,” Hyungsik lamented. “Won’t you come in this lap?”

“Tyres are fine,” Taehyung responded flatly. “One more.”

“If you say so,” Hyungsik sighed. By now, he knew full well that Kim Taehyung couldn’t be swayed when he was in this particular mood.

By the end of the lap, Taehyung was sliding around the tarmac like it was ice, only his superhuman car control saving him from costly off-track excursion. Maybe I should have listened to Hyungsik flashed through Taehyung’s mind at the precise moment that yellow flags began flashing on his dashboard and around the circuit.

Oh my God, Taehyung thought giddily as the Safety Car indicator went on. Oh. My. God. This cannot be happening again, and yet…

“Coming in,” he informed Hyungsik.

“OK,” his engineer replied with barely concealed excitement.

Nerves flooding his body, Taehyung took special care to ensure his car was stopped precisely on its marks when he drove in to his pit box. The Stallions mechanics were primed and ready, and a mere 2.1 seconds later he was pulling back into the pit lane to return to the track.

“Where am I, Hyungsikkie?” he asked as he rejoined the race.

“Yas Marina, Tae,” Hyungsik quipped. He must have felt Taehyung’s eye roll because he quickly added, “Third. Behind the MacPhersons, who also pitted behind the Safety Car.”

“Cool,” Taehyung replied. “Anyway, what caused it?”

“Kai and Jake Sim had a little altercation over the same piece of track,” Hyungsik explained. Both drivers fine, but I imagine a little red-faced.”

“Where are Jeon and His Majesty?” Taehyung asked urgently.

“Jeon is currently in P9 and The King is P8. You and Bang and Lee all waited to pit until the Safety Car came out, which gave you the advantage. So now you’re racing the Aussies for the win, Tae.”

The calculator in Taehyung’s brain flashed up some unbelievable numbers. All I have to do is overtake the MacPhersons and hope to God that Jeon and Kim stay where they are and I’ll win the championship, he thought incredulously. The moment he’d formed that thought, Taehyung banished it. No, we’re not going there, he told himself. We’re just going for the race win today. That’s all that’s in our hands.

There were twenty laps to go.

Twenty chances to overtake the lurid orange cars in front of him.

Seokjin’s stomach lurched as his car yet again failed to respond the way he’d expected. On the previous lap, he’d chalked it up to an unforced error. This time, though, he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Car feels weird, Yoongi,” he radioed urgently.

“We’re looking into it, Jin. I’ll keep you posted.”

With a heavy sigh, Seokjin resumed dragging his reluctant car around the track. The first of his nightmares became reality when Jeongguk came whizzing past him at the very next overtaking opportunity.

“Where’s Taehyung?” he asked, needing but not really wanting to know the answer.

“P3,” Yoongi replied.

Seokjin calculated the points. Don’t, he told himself, anything could happen in the next fifteen laps.

Jeongguk could scarcely believe his eyes when he noticed Seokjin struggling to make it around a corner. Without the slightest thought for their relationship, he opened his rear wing and effortlessly passed the limping car. Setting his sights ahead, Jeongguk knew he had a lot more people to overtake if he wanted to be champion. And not all of them would make it quite as easy.

Kim Mingyu didn’t put up much of a fight. Thinking about it, Jeongguk suspected nobody would until he arrived on the back of the podium positions. Most drivers didn’t want to get involved in the outcome of a championship, if they could help it…

After Mingyu came Josh Hong, who defended a little but ultimately didn’t have the speed to keep Jeongguk’s faster car behind for long.

P6, Jeongguk realised. Just a few more.

It only took another two laps before he was on the back of Xu Minghao’s Wilkins. Feeling everything begin to fall into place, Jeongguk easily soared past him and into P5.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Jeongguk realised the next driver up ahead was Vernon Chwe.

Kim Taehyung’s teammate.

Now there was someone who’d put up a fight.

With twelve laps left in the race, Jeongguk had time to study the strengths and weaknesses of Vernon’s defence. A few times, he thought he’d nailed it. But then Vernon pulled off a defensive move so sweet that Jeongguk had to admit he was foiled. The bright red behind of the Stallion car seemed to be wiggling in his face, taunting him.

As he reached the longest straight on the circuit, Jeongguk could see all four cars that stood between himself and the race win.

Vernon Chwe.

Kim Taehyung.

Felix Lee.

Chris Bang.

Working out the various permutations in his mind, Jeongguk realised that if Seokjin remained down in the far reaches of the top ten, or dropped out of the points altogether, that he really only needed to be ahead of Taehyung and he – Jeon Jeongguk, rookie – would be World Champion.

“Jjunie, where’s Jin?” he asked, trepidation surging in his gut.

“Jin is currently P10. Unfortunately, it looks as though he’s going to be overtaken by Lee Jinki in the next few corners.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Seokjin swore vehemently, making sure his radio button wasn’t pressed. This was not the way he’d wanted to end this season, fading out of the points and therefore, the championship.

“Jin,” Yoongi’s voice cut into his anger, “We’ve figured out the issue. Unfortunately it’s hydraulics. Nothing we can do, I’m afraid. Can you still bring it home?”

“It might take me an hour after all the other cars have come in, but sure thing, Yoongi,” Seokjin drawled sarcastically. “I’m losing speed hand over fist. Oh, there we go. Jinki just overtook me and now I’m not going to score at all, today.”

“I’m so sorry, Jin,” Yoongi consoled him. “I wish it hadn’t happened like this.”

That was the moment Seokjin knew there was only one decision he could make. There was no more fighting it. His mind had been made up.

“Never mind, Yoongi. We’ve been a great team, you and I. Haven’t we?”

“The best,” Yoongi affirmed.

With ten laps still to drive, Seokjin felt his eyes filling with tears.

So focused was he on the MacPhersons ahead with five laps to go, Taehyung barely paid any heed to what was happening behind him.

“How are your tyres, Tae?” Hyungsik queried gently.

“Fine,” came the flat reply.

“You might want to use them, then. Coming up behind you is Jeon Jeongguk,” Hyungsik informed him carefully.

Fuck. Taehyung absolutely had to beat Jeon. Sickeningly, he realised that if positions stayed as they were, even if Taehyung held on to the fastest lap, Jeon would beat him to the championship by one measly point.

One. Measly. Point.

Red mist surged in Taehyung and he realised immediately that he had to defuse it before he found himself in a dangerous situation.

Remember, you know what to do, Jimin’s silken voice caressed the words.

Training his attention even more firmly on Felix Lee’s car, Taehyung was determined to find his weakness and exploit the hell out of it.

Namjoon dejectedly watched the live feed as Seokjin dropped further and further away from the points paying positions. This was not the race he’d wanted for his old friend, especially given the decision Seokjin was about to make. Still, a small tendril of excitement thrummed in his gut as he realised his rookie sensation was about to win the championship, providing things stayed as they were. Kim Taehyung had been trying to overtake the MacPhersons for lap after lap, to no avail. With two laps remaining, it was probably safe to assume that he wasn’t going to.

Might be time to tell the guys to get out the Jeon Jeongguk World Champion 2025 t-shirts, Namjoon was thinking to himself when he heard the crowd roar and a flash of red caught his eye onscreen.

“What’s up, Stallion?” he uttered in disbelief as Kim Taehyung hurtled around the outside of Felix Lee. The audacity of the move was astonishing. Namjoon couldn’t help but feel impressed. Any other driver – even his two – who’d tried that would have ended up in the wall. But not Kim Taehyung. Damn, that man can drive, Namjoon had to admit.

He’d hold off on instructing the team just yet.

Meanwhile, on the Stallions pit wall, Seojoon was watching through tiny gaps in his fingers. Taehyung had just pulled off an insane overtake on Felix Lee. Which had currently put him in championship position, providing Jeon didn’t overtake Lee himself.

 But Seojoon knew his driver, and there was no doubt in his mind that Taehyung would want to seal it with a win.

The lap counter ticked over to 58.

Just sixteen corners remained of the 2025 season.

Less than half a second behind Chris Bang, Taehyung opened his rear wing just after sailing through Turn 5. Just as he was about to pull alongside, the MacPherson jinked to the right, breaking his tow and almost making Taehyung lose all his downforce. Gripping the steering wheel hard, Taehyung rode it out, dropping a little further behind Bang to stabilise himself for his next and last opportunity to pass. Slinging his Stallion around turns 6 and 7, Taehyung made sure he was well within the second required to activate his Drag Reduction System. Reaching the next long straight, he opened his rear wing, screwed his foot flat to the floor and offered up to the universe his most fervent prayer yet.

Please, please let me have this, he begged as his car accelerated smoothly and drew alongside the orange MacPherson. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as Taehyung’s car hit 340 kilometres per hour. Finally, thankfully, Chris Bang knew when he was beaten and conceded the position, tucking in behind Taehyung at the end of the straight.

Ignoring the ecstatic roars of the crowd, Taehyung knuckled down to negotiate the final sequence of eight tight corners. While he knew it would be a tough ask for Bang to show him a front wheel again, he wanted to be certain that it couldn’t happen.

It was only as he rounded Turn 16 and hurtled toward the finish line, the chequered flag waving frantically, that Taehyung realised what he’d just done.

Kim Taehyung was World Champion.

His eyes immediately filled with tears and he let out a wail inside his helmet. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” he sobbed, pushing up his visor to wipe the stinging tears from his face.

“Kim Taehyung!” Seojoon’s voice boomed over his radio. “Do you know what you just did?”

“I… think so,” Taehyung replied uncertainly.

“You just won the World Driver’s Championship, that’s what you just did,” Seojoon affirmed. “Congratulations, Tae. Nobody deserves this more than you.”

Taehyung couldn’t stop the ragged scream that came out of his mouth.

“Tae! You did it! Those moves on Lee and Bang will be on highlight reels for decades,” Hyungsik’s voice cut in excitedly. “I am so, so proud of you. Well done, my friend.”

“Thanks, Hyungsikkie. I couldn’t have done this without you and the team,” Taehyung vowed, a slight tremble underscoring his words.

“There’s someone here who wants to talk to you,” Hyungsik added.

Taehyung could feel the smile in his engineer’s voice.

“Taehyungie?”

The sweetest, most beloved voice of all.

“Jimin!”

“Oh my God, Taehyungie, you’re WORLD CHAMPION! I knew you could do it,” Jimin rushed out, his words devolving into tears. “Now get back here so I can hug you.”

“I’ll drive a little faster,” Taehyung quipped cheekily. He’d been enjoying his slow cool-down, treating it as a victory lap. But waving at the crowd held far less excitement for the brand new World Champion than throwing himself into the arms of his love.

Jeongguk’s heart rate was beginning to slow down as he reached the end of his cool-down lap. Yeonjun had been gentle with him on the radio, informing him that he’d missed out on the championship by just nine points in the end, finishing three points ahead of Seokjin. He’d known it was a longshot coming into the final race. But when he’d seen Seokjin’s struggles, Jeongguk had dared to hope.

It's the daring to hope that’s the killer, he told himself wryly. The moment he’d had that thought, Jeongguk’s thoughts flashed to Seokjin. How would his boyfriend be feeling right now? The championship had been his for the taking. He almost had one hand on the trophy. Only for his chance to be scuppered by a mechanical problem that left him finishing the race down in P12. I bet he needs a hug right now, Jeongguk mused. Actually, he could use one himself. Small mercies – at least he hadn’t finished in the top three. So there would be no need for him to keep a brave face while standing on the podium with the new World Champ.

“You did so well, Guk,” Namjoon’s voice soothed his ears. “Nearly had it there. But it wasn’t your year. You and I both know that your time will come. Sooner rather than later, if anything is fair.”

Jeongguk snorted. “Unfortunately, very little is fair when it comes to Formula 1.”

“But we will still go away, lick our wounds, and do it all again next year. Right?” Namjoon declared.

Jeongguk felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile at the idea of getting to do this all again. “Right. I can’t wait.”

“Taehyung won the championship, didn’t he?” Seokjin sighed over the radio to Yoongi.

“Yeah, he did. Pulled off two insane overtakes on the MacPhersons in the last couple of laps to make sure of it. Guk came in fourth,” Yoongi explained softly.

“So I’m P3 in the championship, then?”

“That’s correct.”

“Damn. Means I still have to go to that blasted gala dinner,” Seokjin laughed.

“Jin, I know this one must hurt,” Namjoon’s voice soothed.

It was at that moment that Seokjin realised that actually, it didn’t hurt at all.

“No, Joon, you’re wrong. It doesn’t.”

“Oh?”

“But it’s shown me precisely what decision I need to make,” Seokjin said firmly. “I’ll come to your office when I get back.”

“OK, Jin,” Namjoon replied, already feeling like he knew what Seokjin was going to tell him.

This was far from the first race Kim Taehyung had won. And yet, as he drove his car into the number 1 space, it felt as new as the tiniest rosebuds in early spring. The momentousness of the occasion was not lost on him as he pushed himself out of the cockpit, flicked up his visor and stepped on to the front of his car. When he jumped into the air, shaking both fists wildly and whooping fit to burst, his entire racing life flashed before his eyes. The tiny boy he was when he first raced go-karts. His first race win, his first junior championship. The rapid rise through the ranks that had so many people talking about him as a future Formula 1 world champion.

And his greatest rival. The one who had not only beaten him to the Formula 3 and Formula 2 championships, but had also beaten him three times to the Formula 1 title.

Taehyung took a moment to spare a thought for Kim Seokjin. He knew The King was made of tough stuff. Heck, nobody knew that better than Taehyung, given he’d been the one on the receiving end of it for the best part of twenty years.

Glancing at the gathered crowd, he saw Seokjin’s face in amongst them. The older driver was smiling warmly as he met Taehyung’s eyes and gave him a thumbs-up. “Talk later,” he mouthed before disappearing into the throng of people.

The very next moment, Taehyung’s eyes landed on the one person he’d been desperately longing to see.

“Jimin!” he screamed, running at full speed toward his love.

“Taehyung!”

The crowd parted to allow Jimin to reach the front, just in time for Taehyung to take him in his arms and kiss him like he never wanted to stop.

All in front of hundreds of broadcast cameras.

“I’m sorry to break up this tender moment,” the international broadcast presenter joked. “But can we please have a word with you, Kim Taehyung, Formula 1 World Champion?”

Disentangling himself from Jimin’s eager embrace, Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Do you mind? I was busy!”

The way his face immediately cracked into a goofy grin told the whole world that he was joking. Laughing raucously, the presenter pushed her microphone into Taehyung’s face.

“So. Kim Taehyung. World Champion. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“I could get used to this,” Taehyung grinned.

“What are your plans for celebrating?”

“Hmm,” Taehyung pondered. “Well, I’m going to eat. And I’m going to drink a whole load of booze – oops, I shouldn’t say that here in Abu Dhabi, should I? I mean, I’m going to drink a whole lot of *ahem* sparkling water. And then I’m going to take my boyfriend to bed, and we intend to be in there for quite a while,” he added cheekily, his shark-like grin beaming out to millions of households around the world.

The woman blanched and quickly attempted to smooth it over. “OK, thank you, Kim Taehyung. We’ve got to go and talk to… Someone else, anyone else. Oh! Park Seojoon, team principal of Stallions F1 team. How do you feel about your driver’s incredible achievement?”

As Seojoon’s excited voice droned on, Taehyung felt himself being escorted to the cool down room. Winking at Jimin as he walked away, Taehyung was delighted to see his boyfriend’s cheeks glowing the delicate pink of Sakura blossoms.

“Tae, my man!” Chris Bang crowed, leaning in for a fist bump. “I gotta give you that one, it was a fantastic overtake. Don’t think anyone else could’ve pulled it off.”

Taehyung smiled wryly. “It’s funny what you can do when something that massive is at stake.”

“How does it feel to know you’ve finally done it?” Felix Lee asked.

“Oh, shit,” Taehyung laughed. “Ask me in three weeks when I’ve had time to come to terms with all these goddamn feelings.”

Falling silent, they watched the race highlights on the provided screen, hissing at the replay of Kai and Jake’s crash and laughing raucously at the footage of Taehyung’s insane overtakes.

“No chance,” Felix shook his head. “You’re in another league, bro.”

“Wonder how The King and Jeon are feeling right now?” Chris pondered, a faraway look on his face. “Jeon’s chance will come. We all know it’s just a matter of time.”

Through his own elation, Taehyung felt the stirrings of sadness for his two toughest rivals whom he could now call friends. Though his happiness was so all-encompassing that those feelings only lasted a moment.

“Time to go, gentlemen,” the usher informed them.

Taehyung sang his heart out to both the Korean and Italian national anthems, tears streaming down his face as he bellowed the words in his rich baritone. Deciding not to drink the rose water, he simply sprayed it as best he could over the other two drivers, ducking out of the way when they did the same to him.

The podium celebration felt like a dream, Taehyung wanting to pinch himself as the official handed him the race winner’s trophy. Another, more significant trophy waited for him at the FIA gala the following evening.

Chris Bang and Felix Lee, two of the more popular characters on the grid with their quintessential Aussie larrikinism, brought their own special brand of chaos to the post-race press conference. Taehyung, floating on a cloud of disbelieving happiness, barely felt present as he answered questions succinctly and waited for it all to be over.

Running the gauntlet of reporters looking for a quote from the new World Champion proved strenuous. Eventually, Taehyung got them off his back by promising interviews at a later date once the dust had settled a little.

At last he made it back to the Stallions garage, where the entire team were waiting for him wearing Kim Taehyung World Champion 2025 t-shirts. Taehyung’s goofy face adorned the front of the garish red garments, the writing in large letters on the back. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed Jimin wearing one, too. Leaning close to him, Taehyung murmured, “I’m going to fuck you in nothing but that t-shirt later.”

Jimin giggled, blushed, and softly slapped Taehyung’s arm. “Please, baby. But you have to celebrate with your team first.”

The next thing he knew, Taehyung was being lifted on to the shoulders of Hyungsik and Vernon, who began the chant, “Kim Taehyung! Kim Taehyung!” which was soon taken up by the rest of the team. Taehyung was thrilled to noticed that personnel from other teams who were still floating around the paddock also joined in.

Given the rules, they were unable to share champagne whilst still at the circuit. So Taehyung suggested they move the party to his favourite rooftop bar. “I’m paying,” he insisted. So after a quick pit-stop back at the hotel (in which Jimin wouldn’t allow Taehyung’s hands on him, protesting that they’d never leave, how unfair) Taehyung donned his linen suit and trilby hat and set off with a smartly dressed Jimin on his arm.

*****

“Namjoon.” Seokjin uttered as he sat down on the other side of the team principal’s desk.

“Seokjin.”

“You know why I’m here, don’t you?”

Namjoon sighed. “I’m still trying to pretend that I don’t.”

Coolly, Seokjin looked Namjoon deep in the eyes.

“I’m retiring. Effective immediately.”

“I can’t get you to reconsider?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “No, Joon. You know that I’ve made up my mind. The fact is, I just don’t want this anymore. I’ve had three World Championships. That’s enough. I want someone else to have a turn, now.”

“People are going to say you quit because you came third this year,” Namjoon mumbled.

“And so what if they do?” Seokjin snapped. “Anyway, so what if they’re right? You and I both know my reasons are far more complex than that. Still, maybe if I had won a fourth, something in me would have yearned to keep going. But I didn’t, and now I don’t want to.”

“Should I call Soobin, or will you?”

“Call him now. I’ll talk to him too,” Seokjin declared.

Namjoon dialled the number.

“Hi, Soobin. There’s something I need to ask you, is now a good time? Oh, great, you’re not busy. Look, I’d call you into my office but that would take a good fifteen minutes from where you are, so I might as well just tell you now. You’ve been incredibly impressive as our Reserve Driver this year. How would you like to drive full-time for the Silver Bullets next season?”

Seokjin laughed out loud as Namjoon winced and held the phone away from his ear.

“Oh, that’s great news, Soobin. We’re so happy to have you. Hmm? Oh, who are you replacing? Well I’ll let him tell you that himself.” Namjoon handed the phone off to Seokjin.

“Hi, Soobin,” Seokjin said calmly.

“Seokjin?” Soobin replied in astonishment.

“The one and only,” he replied wryly. “Look, before you ask any questions I’ll just come out with it. I’ve been thinking about retiring for a while now, and I decided that now is my time to do just that. I couldn’t be happier with Namjoon’s choice for my replacement. Now don’t disappoint me, you hear?” he joked, relieved to hear Soobin’s laughter.

“I won’t, Jin. I promise. And… thank you, for everything.”

“Aaaah, don’t thank me, I didn’t do anything much,” Seokjin demurred. “Just do your best and most importantly, enjoy it. As a current F1 driver, you’ll be one in roughly three hundred and fifty million, you know that?”

“Whoa,” Soobin breathed. “That sure puts it in perspective.”

“Anyway, I’ve got to go. Joon will be in touch with the boring details. See you around, Soobin,” Seokjin ended the call and handed the phone back to Namjoon.

Eyeing Seokjin beadily, Namjoon leaned back in his chair.

“Are you sure you don’t have any regrets?”

“Joon,” Seokjin said impatiently, “I have the rest of my life for regrets if I want them. Don’t try to force things.”

“What are you going to do?”

Seokjin pondered the question. “Well, you won’t get rid of me so easily because I’ll be around supporting my boyfriend,” he grinned. “Oh, and we’re going to publicly announce our relationship at the FIA gala tomorrow night.”

“Finally,” Namjoon grumbled. “I guess you’ll have your hands full fending off the media circus for a while, then.”

“You know,” Seokjin drawled, pushing his lips out into a pout. “I wouldn’t be averse to some kind of advisory role within the team, if there was room for one of those.”

Namjoon laughed. “Basically you want carte blanche to come in and order us around and get paid for it?”

Seokjin grinned wolfishly. “That sounds ideal.”

Rolling his eyes, Namjoon returned his grin. “All right, Seokjin. If you insist.”

*****

Much later that night, after the Stallions team had drunk almost the entirety of the bar’s stock of champagne, Taehyung made good on his earlier declaration. Taking Jimin apart with infinite tenderness, he fucked him deep and slow, relishing every shared gasp and sucked-in breath as he pushed up the oversized t-shirt Jimin was wearing (as promised) and laved greedily at his nipples, leaving soft kisses and bright red love marks all over Jimin’s torso. When the rolling wave of pleasure finally crested and he came inside his love, Taehyung breathed, “You’re my everything, Jiminie.”

As Jimin trembled and released all over their stomachs, Taehyung held him closer than ever, knowing he had no intention of ever letting go.

*****

“You know what?” Yoongi murmured sleepily, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok’s shoulder and pushing back against Namjoon behind him, “I think what happened today was probably the best outcome when you look at it from every angle.”

“How can you say that?” Hoseok blurted out, rather too loudly for the situation they were in. “Neither of our drivers won the championship! Look, I’m obviously thrilled for my longtime pal Jimin that his boyfriend did win it, but let me feel a bit of sorrow for myself,” he finished petulantly.

Namjoon couldn’t hold back his laughter. “You’re both right,” he assured them calmly. “It’s great that Taehyung finally got his championship, although it sucks to be on the losing team. But had either of our drivers won the title, this year, perhaps it would have felt hollow?”

Yoongi and Hoseok both swivelled around to look at him.

“Jin has been our great champion, but his heart wasn’t in it for at least the last third of the season. Would it really be right for him to have won? And Jeongguk, as wonderful a driver as he is, was in his rookie season. Winning the championship in those circumstances sets him up for a lifetime of pressure and expectation that he’ll feel he has to live up to.”

“You actually have some good points, there,” Hoseok acknowledged.

“He usually does,” Yoongi grumbled, setting the three of them off into fond laughter. “Honestly,” he continued, “I’m looking forward to working with Soobin next year. I think he and Guk will be a formidable team. Guk’s ready to take on that team leader role, and I think he’ll thrive.”

“I just wonder how he’ll cope with a super-fast rookie beating him sometimes,” Namjoon quipped. “What goes around, comes around.”

“Only time will tell,” Yoongi deadpanned. “Can we talk more about this tomorrow? I need my beauty sleep.”

Namjoon and Hoseok silently shared a smile before snuggling back into their cozy huddle.

*****

The FIA prize-giving gala was something the invited drivers both anticipated and despised. Providing a wonderful opportunity to dress to the nines and cash in the interest that was no doubt generated from luxury brands, it was also an interminable evening with speeches that dragged on mercilessly.

Naturally, the announcement of Kim Seokjin’s retirement had sent shockwaves through the entire motorsport community, taking up its fair share of the headlines. But Kim Taehyung was still the biggest headline news after his breakthrough championship win.

Resplendent in Celine formal attire, Taehyung, alongside Jimin wearing perfectly tailored Dior, was the centre of attention upon arrival at the event. Walking hand in hand, with matching smiles, the couple’s unearthly beauty had spectators swooning.

When another limousine pulled up at the red carpet and Kim Seokjin stepped out, dressed impeccably in Thom Browne, reporters and onlookers craned their necks to get the first glimpse of who he’d brought as his date. Seokjin had famously attended the gala solo on all his previous appearances. But this time, the shadow of another person was visible through the tinted windows.

The crowd erupted in shocked gasps when that person was revealed as none other than Jeon Jeongguk.

To avoid any misunderstandings, Seokjin held out his arm for Jeongguk to take and smiled calmly at the reporters. “Isn’t my boyfriend handsome?” he grinned, leaning in to kiss a delighted Jeongguk on the cheek. “Calvin Klein practically begged to dress him, and can you blame them?”

Leaning in to Jimin, Taehyung murmured, “I see those bastards are stealing my spotlight. I’ll get them back, someday.”

Knowing how devious his boyfriend could be, Jimin had zero doubts he’d do just that.

*****

December 2027

“Oh, I love Paris in the winter,” Jimin trilled, letting go of Taehyung’s arm to spin around in a giddy little circle. “Thank you for bringing me here, Tae.”

Taehyung blushed a little. “Well, I did promise a while back. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to make it happen-“

Jimin placed two fingers on his lips. “No apologies, Taehyungie. Just good times,” he ordered, opening his arms for a hug. “Anyway, you’ve been a little busy.”

“That’s true,” Taehyung laughed wryly. “Here we are, Jiminie,” Taehyung announced as they reached the base of the Eiffel Tower. Scrolling through his phone, he showed their tickets to the staff member.

“Messieurs Kim and Park. Welcome,” the man said in heavily accented English before leaning slightly closer to Taehyung. “I am sorry about this year’s championship, I had so wanted you to win your third. I’m a big fan,” he added shyly.

Taehyung graciously thanked him and murmured something about the better man having won this year before ushering Jimin toward the elevator.

Given that it was dusk, the perfect time to ascend the tower and enjoy the perfect view of Paris at nightfall, Jimin wondered why it was so quiet. Perhaps it was the cold? He could feel his cheeks turning red from the wind whipping around them all afternoon.

As the glass-walled elevator ascended 276 metres, he noticed that Taehyung seemed nervous. “Are you scared of heights, baby?” he teased gently, reaching for his boyfriend’s hand.

Taehyung squeezed his hand so tightly that Jimin’s breath caught in his throat. “Something like that,” he murmured.

Upon reaching the top, they quickly perused Gustave Eiffel’s office before heading to the champagne bar.

Jimin was yet again surprised to note that they were the only ones there. However, there were staff present behind the bar so everything seemed normal enough.

“Jiminie, why don’t you go and take in the view? I’ll get us a drink and be right with you,” Taehyung told him. A still-giddy Jimin needed no convincing, skipping over to the window with barely concealed delight.

“Wow,” he breathed to himself. “It’s so beautiful. So magical. TaeTae, you need to come over here and see- Oh,”

Jimin’s words died on his lips as he whirled around. Taehyung rested on one knee, eyes shining and his face blooming with hope. In one hand, he held a small velvet box containing an exquisitely sparkling diamond ring.

“Jimin,” he began, his voice trembling with nerves, “The last two years have been better than the most glorious dream. Being with you has given me so much that I didn’t even know I needed. Now, I know that I cannot live without those things – and most importantly, I know that I cannot live without you. Life is beautiful, blossoming, and full of wonder now that you’re with me.”

Stopping briefly, he allowed his gaze to roam over Jimin. His beloved’s eyes were like saucers, his rosebud mouth had fallen open and his entire body was tensed with anticipation. Now is the time, Taehyung. Ask the question, he told himself.

Taking a deep breath, he finally uttered the words that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long.

“Park Jimin, will you do me the great honour of becoming my husband?”

Taehyung blinked and Jimin was suddenly so close, kissing him and holding him tightly as hot tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Is that a yes, then?” Taehyung teased, pulling away just a tiny bit.

“Of course it’s a yes,” Jimin grinned, leaning in to claim yet another kiss from his fiancé.

The slight sting of losing the 2027 World Championship paled in comparison to the heart-filling happiness Taehyung was experiencing in that moment.

Jimin was his forevermore. Nothing could thrill him quite as much. Not even ten World Championships.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Hoseok squawked as he opened the message he’d just been sent. Racing out of the home gym, he frantically made his way into the living area where Namjoon and Yoongi were calmly sipping on some coffee.

“What is it, Hoba?” Yoongi asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“Jiminie and Taehyung are engaged,” Hoseok blurted out. “My friend is getting married!”

Namjoon couldn’t help but groan inwardly as he realised that Jeongguk’s hard-fought first World Driver’s Championship would soon be old news. Two-time World Champion Kim Taehyung getting engaged to his extremely photogenic boyfriend? The papers would be all over it.

“I’ll send a card,” Namjoon nevertheless murmured, unable to stop himself from smiling.

Seokjin lifted his favourite crystal Edo Kiriko tumbler, filled with three fingers’ worth of Yamazaki 25. Warm water submerged him, the soft lighting of his sanctuary glinting off the bubbles and also the whisky-filled tumbler of the man who was sharing his bath, and his life.

“Looks good there,” Seokjin acknowledged, his eyes focusing on the 2027 World Championship trophy that had taken up residence on a new shelf in his Hammerglass cabinet. The first trophy in the display case that hadn’t been won by Seokjin himself, this was a momentous occasion.

Jeongguk grinned cheekily, his eyes still as wide and sparkling as the day they’d met. Even losing two championships in a row to Kim Taehyung hadn’t dimmed his lustre. Managing to win this one after the toughest fight of his career, however, had polished it up even more.

“So how does it feel to be fucked by a World Champion?” Jeongguk asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I should be asking  you that question,” Seokjin scoffed. “You have far more experience in that area than I do.”

“Give it time,” Jeongguk drawled, placing his tumbler on the ledge beside the bath and leaning heavily into Seokjin’s space. “Wanna get some more practice?”

“All right,” Seokjin sighed jokingly. “I suppose I’d better get used to it.”

Laughter echoed off the walls of the bathroom, swiftly followed by deep, resonant moans as Jeongguk gave Seokjin the full world championship experience.

Later, when they had dried off and snuggled together in bed, Seokjin and Jeongguk’s phones went off simultaneously.

“It’s Taehyung,” Jeongguk said, reaching his phone first.

Opening the photo message, they registered a giddily smiling Taehyung and Jimin. On Jimin’s left hand rested an enormous diamond ring, sparkling obnoxiously.

Kim Taehyung (20.31):

Just wanted to let Jeongguk know we’ll be stealing his headlines this time around.

END.