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Baby Blue (I'll Bloom For You)

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From his view at the bottom of the slope he could see the massive crowd filling up in the stands built into the quarry. There were several long stretches of metal built into the rocky outcropping and by the time the show started they would be packed full with people. Yoongi didn’t know that exact figure of people that could fit on them but being down in the pit and looking up to see what felt like thousands of faces staring back down at him, he would estimate the amount to be countless. Infinite maybe. So many faces and he didn’t really look at a single one properly. It was always the same so there was no point in ever looking.

 

When people came to the track they were one of three things: elite businessmen, escorts, or drunk college students. The rows of metal seating would be packed with block coloured suits of black and charcoal grey, white shirts open at the collar; sparking or satin sleek dresses with daringly low cuts and raked up thigh slits; casual jeans and hideous logo tees with nonsense English slogans on them. There would be hands holding wads of won notes and plastic containers of shots: lemon soju, tequilas, Vesper cocktails; or they would have Rolexes with massive clock faces, icy diamond bracelets and rings, or be holding smartphones to record everything like it was a concert venue.

 

Yoongi didn’t greatly like them recording it all but he had no choice, if it spread online and got more people visiting then it was better for the cause. More people, more bets, more drinking, more cash flowing into the track. So that meant that he would have to put up with flashing camera lights for now. In the end the lights were only annoying when he was down in the quarry watching everything, getting prepared for a race. When he was in his car, keys in the ignition and hands gripped around the wheel, listening to the sound of the crowd getting riled up, all he would see was the light fixture dangling as he waited for the amber to go bright green.

 

To put it quite simply, being down in the quarry when the racing track was at full capacity was much like what he imagined being a gladiator in the coliseum was like. It was the rush of so many people screaming and cheering amplified off the high rock and clay basin walls, the floodlights that shone down with enough heat to make his skin break out into a sweat from the intensity of it all. Not yellow or orange tinged but rather a bright white that was akin to stars floating in the pitch black above them.

 

Right now he was sitting on a skateboard fixing up Namjoon’s front tire because the asshole had went and bust another one on him in the space of three nights of racing. He would have been surprised by this fact but he wasn’t. Three days was a miracle because it could be every night if he tried his hardest. Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time he had actually blew out a tire rather than just replace them all when the treads started to feel a little too soft for his liking. He needed them to be firm and grip well or else drifting would be too dangerous for him to attempt. Yes, there was a joy in that little rush of danger but he wasn’t like Taehyung. Yoongi didn’t slam his cars into the concrete obstacles for fun because he had much better things to do, like not risk breaking his fucking neck every single time he got behind the wheel. Fixing a single bust tire was child’s play for him at this point but still…

 

Namjoon wasn’t doing something helpful right now, like assisting any of the others should they need it, like checking on Jungkook and the flowing bets that were being placed across the quarry. No, he was sitting in the front of the car with the door open and hip hop blaring from the speakers so loud that he could feel the vibrations through the lug wrench as he removed the bolts to get rid of the old tire. What the others were doing, with the exception of Jungkook, he had no clue. He assumed that Seokjin was preening his car or himself in turn because he was going to be up for tonight and he had to look good.

 

Yoongi was sure that he put more hard work into his face and hair than he did in caring for his car but it didn’t really matter, Seokjin hadn’t asked him for any help fixing blown axles and cylinders like the rest of them. At least he had an idea about how to fix minor problems, which could not be said for the rest of the crew. If he left Taehyung to mod a car then he would try and fit a V6 engine block into a car much too small and he would end up fucking the entire thing up like always. The younger male really had to realise that bigger did not always mean better and that he couldn’t just build a hack job and expect it to work. And Hoseok…well Hoseok was too busy trying to make his car break the sound barrier to be able to fix things, going through tires so very fast.

 

“Who’s on tonight?” Yoongi asked purely to try and start a conversation, removing another hub cap so he could get to the bolt.

 

“Tae’s gonna race Jin first, I’m thinking it’ll get the blood pumping. Then you and Hobie,” Namjoon explained. “Jin’s gonna win the first race probably, I dunno I didn’t fix this race. Whatever happens happens but I got a feeling that Tae’s gonna try and burnout for fun. Saw a look in his eyes earlier that makes me think he’s planning on crumpling the nose of his car like a piece of tinfoil again.”

 

“If he does then I’m gonna tie him to one of the fucking blockades,” he muttered under his breath as he dropped the hubcap and bolt onto the floor and moved onto the last one. “We can’t keep spending a couple of million won on a car every two weeks ‘cos he gets bored and wants a new toy, alright?”

 

“I agree, kid’s got no respect for quality. Just goes for the premium looking shit that gets wrecked after a single crash.”

 

Namjoon’s car was a Chevrolet Chevelle, older than every single one of them by near a decade but that didn’t mean that it was a bad car. Sure it only went over 120 at fastest before being modded but it was a hefty vehicle and it had yet to be dented or scratched thanks to the younger man’s handling. It had a long rectangle hood and double squared headlights, glossy black with speed stripes along the front to make it stand out. But Namjoon had had it modded over the three years he had owned it, thin grille replaced instead by a massive double square of chrome that looked like a set of massive teeth. He had heard people refer to his friend’s ride as ‘The Shark’ and he wasn’t surprised for it did look like a predator which such a vast chunk of chrome gleaming under the floodlights. He wouldn’t at all be surprised if it came to life and swallowed one of them whole whilst they were rolling out from under it: a beast of a car.

 

“If Hobie can ride that death trap of a car past 200mph and not break it then Tae can learn to drive too, or else he ain’t going over 150mph whilst I’m here,” Yoongi retorted as he grabbed hold of the tire and pulled it free, rolling it aside without a care. He watched it go a few feet before falling on its side, deflated from the slight hole in the tread. Then he shifted to collect the new one and shoved it in place. “Seriously, if the kid mistimes a crash over 100 he’s asking for death but he still does it.”

 

“Hits the brake before he burns out,” Namjoon muttered as he shifted to get a better view of what he was doing. “By the time he smashes into the blockades he’s doing nothing more than 80 but he’s still taking a big risk. At least he always make sure to hit the back end and not the front, don’t want him making that mistake.”

 

If Taehyung decided that he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory for the evening and fuck up everyone’s bets then crashing was his choice. But, like Namjoon had pointed out, at least he was smart enough to ruin the back rather than the front. He might have been stupid but even he wasn’t that bad.

 

So far, in the years that he had been working this circuit, Yoongi had seen a couple of deaths. Usually one was enough to scare the current team off and after a few months a bunch of newbies would roll onto the scene to take their place, but the current team had been going strong for over three years now with nothing more than broken bones, concussions and mild burns. He thought that they were incredibly lucky and he was counting himself in that regard too.

 

Yoongi had seen the fronts of car being crushed as if the hand of God had come down and swatted them hard, metal squealing as it crushed and the momentum forcing the front backwards. When that happened one of two things occurred: one, the front engine was torn free of its frame and it spilled gasoline all over the machinery inside until the car exploded into flames, or two, the mid-engine was shoved back from the pressure on the front and burst free into the front seat of the car. That resulted in severed legs, ribs cages crushed and stomachs obliterated from the flying chunk of twisted metal the same size of a computer. Sometimes people were lucky and they came out of crashes like that in one piece but it was rare. If they weren’t burnt alive or crushed by engines then he at least expected facial fractures from heads colliding with dashboards, dislocated necks and collapsed lungs. None of that had happened to his friends so far but he wasn’t betting on it staying that way.

 

Three years without incident was pushing their luck and Taehyung really did drive like death was on his heel and he wanted to drag it down with him.

 

80 still killed people, 40 still killed people, and yet they raced up to and over 200mph every single night. If that wasn’t flirting with destruction and demise then he didn’t know what was.

 

Across the area he could still hear the monotonous drone of the audience making their way into the quarry. Bets needed to be made, alcohol needed to be served, and mostly they needed to talk about how fucking rich they were so loud that no one could possibly think otherwise. Oh there was CEOs, surgeons, politicians and more nestled in the crowds, all male. The only women present were all escorts and nothing more than that. In the capital with so many men running the businesses he wasn’t at all surprised by this fact but then again, he thought that most women in the city probably had more normal interests. TV dramas and clubbing with friends, at home working away or caring for children, not blowing millions of won that would see them never need to worry about debts for years on fast cars, fast women and fast shit. All the men in the audience were in positions of power and yet…to Yoongi they were no different from children. They wanted big, loud and colourful things to keep them amused; so very simple and pathetic.

 

“See the rich bitch that pulled up about five minutes ago?” Namjoon asked from the open driver-seat of his car, legs cocked up so that he could balance his elbows on them.

 

Yoongi lifted his gaze from the wheel in front of him to study his face before telling him that he had not. He picked the lug wrench back up and proceeded to screw the last bolt back in place to secure the tire, twisting the metal tool around to tighten the bolt.

 

“Lamborghini Gallardo as I live and breathe.” This was enough to make him pause, wrist still working to fix the bolt but eyes no longer interested in watching it. He cocked his head on an angle to see him more clearly and judging from his expression he must have looked surprised or something close to it, for Namjoon’s lips lifted in a grin. “Ain’t kidding, ask Jin if you don’t believe me. He saw it too, eyes nearly rolled outta his head. Doesn’t like it when someone owns a car more beautiful than his.”

 

Yoongi would be hard pressed to think of a car that looked more beautiful than that off the top of his head, so he asked him the colour. He was expecting to hear bright pink and cringe at the ruination and yet that wasn’t the colour at all.

 

“Blue, baby blue I’d say.”

 

“Blue huh?” Not bad, he would have preferred black but it was better than pink or red that was for sure. He found it hard to picture in his mind however, which meant that he was going to have to see it with his own two eyes rather than listen to his friend explain it all. “Who’s dick did she have to suck to afford that baby?”

 

“She? Don’t you mean he? It was a guy sitting in the front,” Namjoon explained before letting out a laugh.

 

Yoongi furrowed his brow at this and thought it over before finding that he was still confused by the idea. He asked him how old they were, thinking that maybe the guy was pretty old, middle-aged or getting close to it. Wouldn’t be the only man to show up alone, at least this one had tastes.

 

“Shit I dunno, looked all of twenty to my eyes. Looked like he shouldn’t have been driving a car at all, never mind one that runs nearly 200mph, y’know?” 

 

Yoongi sighed and finished securing the tire for him. He found it hard to believe that Namjoon had been driving this circuit for three years now and yet he struggled to do something as simple as attach a new tire. He wouldn’t trust him to do so, or to even check the air pressure of a tire never mind remove one. He wasn’t exactly in it for the cars per se, rather the mastermind behind setting up races and ensuring that the bets looked good enough to make people not believe that they were in any way fixed from the start. Namjoon drove his car without needing to show off, without needing to drift and cause a scene, and he was always the option that no one picked for that reason. Made it that much better when he actually fixed a race in his favour for once. Still, Yoongi liked fixing up the cars even if they weren’t his own. After all, this place would be nothing without him. Taehyung would have burnt through so many cars on his wrecking sprees that they would have had nothing salvageable from the ruins. He had once thought that the younger male went through cars like condoms, used once and then tossed away. The axles and treads on Hoseok’s car would be fucked if it wasn’t for him constantly tightening and replacing them before the wheels came flying free and caused a crash that just might kill someone. 

 

“So, that’s why I called him a rich bitch, gotta be rich or a bitch to drive a Gallardo so I decided to play it safe and pick both options.”

 

“Probably the rich heir of some fucking chaebol,” Yoongi agreed as he pulled his bandanna free and wiped the grease off his hands, the scent of it clinging to his skin just like always. He would always stink of the substance no matter what. “Got cash to blow so he’s gonna waste it all betting like an amateur and when he loses it all he’ll go crying back to daddy for more.”

 

“Maybe he’s got a daddy of his own?” Namjoon suggested with an eyebrow raise, slipping languidly under the bleached mess of hair over his brow.

 

“Pft, wouldn’t be surprised.”

 

Yoongi reached over to check the bolts, running his fingers along them one last time, and then he got to his feet. All done, no need to sit around and waste time. Not when the rally would be starting in a few minutes. But a Lamborghini Gallardo? Well, that was something that he was going to have to check out before it was too late and he had missed it. If it was the case and it was some spoilt kid coming to check the place out then he might not come back after the first time and a Gallardo was not the type of car to miss. It was like a strange game of bird-watching or trainspotting he supposed, but Yoongi wanted to see that car very much.

 

He shoved the bandanna into the back of his trousers, in the waistband so that he could pull it out easily enough, and then he crossed the lot to go out of the quarry. He would find the car where the rest of the others were parked, in the flat expanse just before one needed to get out and walk inside to get to the seats. On a normal night there could be as many as a hundred parked down in the bottom and even more on the ridge around the quarry. It made the place look like a desolate drive-in cinema.

 

Yoongi saw Seokjin out of the corner of his eye as he crossed the lot, finishing up his own work on his car. He was wiping the front windshield down with a cloth to remove any of the annoying white dust that clung to the air and leave the chrome and glass gleaming in the floodlights. The Jaguar XKR Convertible had a white body with black piping around the vents in the hood, mesh grille above and below the license plate and long thin headlights. The man glanced over his shoulder at him for a second before going back to his car and he saw the grin on his face.

 

“You’re going to check that car out aren’t you?” Seokjin asked, dark brown hair falling forward over his eyes as he stretched forward and wiped at the window in fast circular motions. “I said to Joon, the first thing I thought when I looked at it, I bet Yoongi’s going to want to see that baby…and I was right. Not a surprise.” He confirmed that he was with a nod and his friend laughed softly. “So predictable. An escort with legs that run for miles shows up and you don’t even blink but a car comes and you’re nearly running to look at it.”

 

“Cars interest me, escorts don’t.”

 

“Hmm, well I’m a bit annoyed by the newcomer. I’m scared a few of the escorts might be looking his way instead of mine. How can I put on a show if they aren’t looking?” Yoongi eyed him with a bored expression because this was something that he had heard a million times already; Seokjin being jealous over any remotely attractive males being in his vicinity for that would mean that he wasn’t getting all of the attention for once. Seokjin didn’t take well to not being showered with adorations. He hadn’t earned the title ‘The Prince’ for nothing. “It will be a hard race tonight to win over their affections.”

 

“Offer ‘em cash and you’ll get their affections for an hour,” Yoongi retorted. “Offer a little more and you’ll get a whole night.”

 

“Oh Yoongi, it’s not about the end results, the sex or anything like that, it’s about putting on a performance. I am an actor on that track and the escorts are my fans.” Sure, that was exactly what it was. “You might want to hurry up and check it out though, Tae will probably have a million complaints to make before the show starts and you don’t want him breathing down your neck.”

 

Yoongi made a noise in agreement at this and hastily crossed the lot. As he got closer to the parking area he had to pass the audience and as he did he heard bets still being called out and women trying to get his attention. He spared a quick glance over to see that Jungkook was juggling a series of paper bets as he tried to place any last ones before the beginning of the show. He had a look on strong concentration on his face as he accepted cash and scrawled odds and numbers out on scrips that were then shoved into hands, not at all fazed by the pressure that was on him to not fuck it all up and give out the wrong information. Yoongi watched him before letting his eyes drift over the audience. Women were waving at him and blowing kisses because they had clearly been here enough times to recognise him as a driver, ignoring the fact that their buyers were sitting right beside them watching. Well, it wasn’t like they were married to the old fuckers. The only men he saw were all old as expected, or already pissed college kids that clearly were not the owners of the Gallardo judging from appearances. So whoever it was was clearly not in the crowd or was so hidden away that he had missed them. Maybe they had left already, he couldn’t be certain but he doubted it.

 

So he went down the thin passageway in the quarry and up the sloping hill that lead up to the first layer of parked cars. No sight of the vehicle at all, just the typical shit he had seen night-in, night-out for years now. Cherry reds and yellows, silvers and golds or plain blacks, all sports cars that were so warped out of shape that looking at them it was impossible to not see them for what they were: phallic compensation. They were all hideous and he groaned in disgust as he crossed the area and went up the next slope that would see him back up on the main road and practically out of the quarry. It took a few minutes of walking before he did and he saw the rows and rows of vehicles along the length of the quarry like always. A glance at them showed them all to not be empty and he just knew that a few escorts would likely be getting fucked inside. They had to earn their pay some way he supposed, though he always imagined that it would be after the races had caused excitement and stirred the blood rather than before, but he supposed being up here meant that it could happen during too. He wasn’t at all surprised by the steamed up windows of one or two slightly rocking cars and he just crossed the side of the wide freeway to finally get to the car that his friends had told him about.

 

Oh it was a sight to see in reality.

 

Yoongi had seen enough Lamborghini Gallardos in magazines to know that it was a beaut of a car but photographs could do no justice to an actual vehicle, couldn’t show the true curves of the body and the gleam of floodlights reflecting off the surface. He had seen them in the stock black and silver and red colours but he had never seen a baby blue before. It was a custom job, he knew that it was, but the paint had been applied so good that it would be impossible to tell. There wasn’t a slight patch to the layers of soft blue and he couldn’t see a nick or dent or even a surface scratch anywhere on the body. New car? Or intimately loved? From the nose to the tail it was practically smooth, nothing more than the soft rise, and the windows were like sheets of black ice in the night dim. Two high set sodium arc headlights and vents were set below and on the outer edges of the wing doors. What would the interior look like? Steering wheel high and centre, gear stick panels and screens mounted on the dash above it? Black leather or also custom?

 

Just thinking about it all was enough to make him almost shudder and before he could stop himself he was moving to get closer to the car and reaching out to put his hand on the back.

 

Underneath the metal there would be the engine, V10 with enough power to kick up to 100mph in less than ten seconds. It would come to life with a soft rumble that would then become a sound that he couldn’t possibly put into words, the closest being a vroom that had a high-pitched whine behind it. It wasn’t the deafening roar of a turbocharged V6 but it would still roar better than the cars parked down in the quarry and only his own car would come close to beating it. Yoongi ran his fingers along the back engine and he slowly walked around to the side, dragging his fingers as he did. Cool metal body. A quick glance through the window showed him that the interior was cream leather and it was enough to make a frisson run across his skin. Oh this was a baby and a half, Namjoon and Seokjin hadn’t lied to him when they had told him about it and he was glad that he hadn’t missed it. He doubted that he would see another car like this for a long time and-

 

It took him a few seconds to figure out that there was someone staring at him and that was when Yoongi shifted to look over his shoulder and see him. The so called owner of the car judging from what he knew of him.

 

If the car was a sight to behold then so was the owner, for Yoongi had never seen a young man like him step anywhere near the tracks before. He wasn’t the kind that could be mistaken or pass out of memory because it wasn’t possible to see him and forget him.

 

The first thing that Yoongi’s eyes fell on was not his face but rather his clothing, or great lack of it he thought. Leather trousers that would put even Taehyung’s mighty collection to shame, they were so tight that he had to wonder if he had been born in them or if he could even move. It didn’t seem possible, but then again that wasn’t the most obvious item of clothing that should have been catching his attention. Maybe it should have been the black shirt that was made of such a fine mesh so that it was practically see through. Yoongi could see skin, could see the dimples of muscles, and he would have been able to see a lot more had the young man not been wearing a coat on top of it. In the current chill weather he wasn’t surprised but a white fur coat was a little too much in his opinion. The escorts down on the tracks didn’t even wear things like that and he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or shocked by the sight of such a thing.

 

After staring at his chest for what seemed like a little too long he lifted his gaze to study his face instead. Tanned skin, very healthy glow to him that just clashed against the white fur like the way that the cream interior clashed against the blue paint job on the car. He had a soft face with full cheeks but a sharp jawline; delicate nose with a point to it and eyes that he thought looked a little sad, droopy in the corners somewhat. But his mouth was the feature that caught his attention the most, for it was the kind of mouth that he would see on the women down in the quarry seating area. Yoongi had once heard Taehyung point to a photograph of a model and declare that he wished he had ‘blowjob’ lips like that and he was looking right at a pair.

 

God, blowjob seemed like an understatement for his lips, an insult even.

 

“You’re making me almost jealous,” the stranger said as he dropped his eyes to study his hand, which was still on the back engine cover. “Seeing you giving all of that attention to my car instead of me.”

 

Yoongi pulled his hand away from it and this made the young man smile. Those sad eyes lifted at the corners when he did and he saw white teeth and Yoongi discovered that the frisson that ran along his skin like a shiver had shifted. It had moved downwards and into the pit of his stomach. It was strange and he didn’t know why but he had the greatest urge to rub his hand on his black jeans as if trying to wipe something off his palm. Sweat perhaps?

 

“Never seen a Gallardo before?”

 

“No,” Yoongi said with a soft shake of the head. “Not here I haven’t.”

 

“1.8 billion won,” the young man said as he ran his eyes over the vehicle. “for a single car. That’s a lot of cash don’t you think?”

 

Yoongi thought for a car that looked as good as this one that was nothing, though he wouldn’t say that aloud. People were supposed to be shocked by such a thing, by a car costing such a ridiculous high amount of cash, but not him. Considering the fact so many people in capital were blowing thousands of won on facial surgeries he didn’t think that a car was that ridiculous at all.

 

“This baby can go nearly 200mph…” Yoongi said just to break the momentary silence that had fallen over the area. Well, silence if he didn’t include the faint creaking coming from a car not too far from where they were standing and moans that sounded fake even to his untrained ears.

 

“Baby? That’s what you call cars?” He studied the back window of the Gallardo rather than look at him and then there was a soft laugh. “That’s funny. I heard that there’s a lot of nicknames on this circuit.”

 

“Oh yeah? What are they?”

 

“Prince, Shark, Kid,” the stranger listed, lifting a hand and sticking a finger up for each title that he announced. “Lightning and…Shadow. Which one are you?” Yoongi lifted his gaze to look at him and he waited to see if he would make a guess himself. “Seen a couple of cars down there, all cool I guess. I don’t really pay attention to cars…” Didn’t pay attention to cars? He had a near two billion won car in his possession and he didn’t pay attention? It was almost enough to make him want to weep. “Red, two white cars, a black and white one…and a plain black one. Matte. Very nice. I think that’s your car.”

 

“Why’d you think that?” Yoongi asked as he shifted to once again trace his fingers along the back of the Gallardo.

 

“Because I’ve seen the others climbing in and out and checking over those cars but not the matte one. That’s solitary and untouched, no one’s gone near it. So I think that it’s yours, so that must make you Shadow.”

 

“And what’s your name, huh? Sherlock?”

 

This quip made the stranger’s lips twitch upwards again but he hadn’t entirely been joking around. He was amazed that he had figured this out and yet it wasn’t that hard he supposed. All that it required was looking down at the quarry and watching them for a little while. Had he done that? Had this young man sat in his car for long enough to track them down there like ants and figure all of that out?

 

“Jimin,” he replied. “What’s the Shadow’s real name, huh?”

 

“I don’t tell the audience my name,” Yoongi retorted as he shifted to look at the front of the car, crossing his arms over his chest as he did. “I’m kinda like a performance artist, it’s part of the act.”

 

“Performance artist?” Jimin raised an eyebrow at this, fluid movement so that it disappeared under the slight fall of dark brown hair on his brow. The rest was swept back in place and yet there was that one little lock at the front just hanging there, almost annoyingly so. “That’s interesting, I perform too.”

 

Yoongi ran his eyes over the soft slope of the body of the Gallardo and he had a feeling that his lack of attention was irritating the other man but he was too distracted with checking his ride out to care.

 

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” He made a noise in disagreement and heard Jimin huffing loudly at this. It sounded spoilt, a sound that he could totally associate coming out of those lips of his. “What does a person have to do to earn your name here?”

 

“…Ride,” Yoongi said as he stopped in front of the car and stared through the front window. God, the leather seats looked so plush that he couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to sink down into them. “They have to ride to earn my name.”

 

“Well, you haven’t earned my name either.”

 

“Too late, you told me. Jimin.”

 

“Call me something else,” Jimin said with a pout. It was annoying and pleasing in equal amounts.

 

Yoongi cocked his head and finally lifted his gaze to study him fully rather than just quick glances. His attention seemed to greatly please the young man for he saw his shoulders go up slightly. Small shoulders, small frame and yet he could see those muscles through that shirt of his. He asked him what he was thinking of and Jimin’s pout was replaced with something else, a grin that could only be described as mischievous.

 

“Call me baby, like the car.”

 

For a moment Yoongi could only look at him blankly and then the urge to snort was so great that he couldn’t resist it. He reached up with one hand to cover his mouth and the sound escaped from behind his hand. Yet the grin on the young man’s face didn’t falter in the slightest at this. After a few seconds he lowered his hand and told him that it was a good joke and that was when Jimin told him that he wasn’t joking. The smirk on Yoongi’s face did falter at this, the corners dropping slightly. That frisson was still annoyingly present in the pit of his stomach and he dropped his arms from his chest to shove them into his jeans pockets.

 

Call him baby? A guy that he had just met, a guy that had just shown up at the tracks for the first time? He might just decide to let Taehyung take his Nissan S14 out for a nice drive straight into a concrete blockade too but he doubted it. He was about to open his mouth and say something to him but there was a loud roar from down in the quarry below them and he looked over his shoulder to see that the show was going to start any minute from now. He needed to get down there and prepare himself for the second race so he turned back to look at Jimin. That grin was still on his face as he looked at him.

 

“I got a race to win,” Yoongi said as he started walking around the car.

 

He had to pass Jimin to do this and yet he didn’t move out of his way, meaning that he had to turn sideways and squeeze between him and the gap between the car parked beside the Gallardo. His shoulder brushed against his chest, the thick fur bristling from the contact and he got a waft of cologne so strong that he could taste it on his tongue. Spicy. Then he was crossing the lot to go down the next levels to get down into the quarry, walking at a pace that might be described as close to a jog.

 

When he got to the bottom the two vehicles were already lazily drifting across the tracks as they tried to whip the crowd up into a nice frenzy. Bets had been placed, booze was flowing and being spilled all over the stands and there was probably other substances being used too. Yoongi stuck way back near the lot and he watched the show, the posturing as Seokjin and Taehyung left deep tire marks in the loose quarry soil, wheels spinning and twisting and floodlights flashing off the bodies as they drifted in loose circles. It was like a dance, a warm up for the actual race that would be happening very soon and would be over in moments.

 

Taehyung had had the Mazda RX7 he was currently in for just three weeks now and he was hoping that he would own it a little longer. It was cherry red and though Yoongi often found the colour jarring on most cars it seemed to fit him perfectly. Perhaps it was because it matched so well with the owner, he wasn’t sure but it just looked right in a way he couldn’t explain. It was an older model with low headlights and a curved front wide front that went to the back where the spoiler stuck up sharply like a long dorsal fin. He had a habit of tying shit to the back of it for fun, from paper streamers to lanterns to celebrate new years to tinsel when the holidays came around. It was likely this, combined with that fact that he was the youngest currently riding on the team had earned him the nickname ‘The Kid’. Right now there was a series of strings tightly around the spoiler and on the bottom of them was a variety of Styrofoam cups. Well…it seemed that Taehyung was having his ‘just married’ phase again. That was of no surprise, at least he hadn’t spray painted shit all over the side of the car like he usually did. Yoongi was waiting for the day that he filled airbags with confetti for fun and he thought that it was only a matter of time.

 

Right now the cups were bouncing and hitting the back of the car as his friend let it drift around, circling Seokjin’s car like prey. In the Jaguar XKR Convertible he could see Seokjin clearly, open top showcasing his upper body perfectly for everyone up on the seats. There was a subtle smirk on his face and he could hear the escorts in the audience screaming for him, putting him right in his element.

 

“Alright alright, hurry up with the cockteasing,” Hoseok muttered, perched on the front of his own car: Bugatti Veyron in blinding white just like Seokjin’s ride. He had his long legs spread over the hood, leaned back on his wrists as he did, and Yoongi couldn’t believe that he would sit on it like it was nothing more than a piece of furniture. “Hurry up and race I’m itching to get on the track.”

 

Which really meant that he was itching to jump inside and hit the pedal so hard that it treads tore off the wheels as he shot across the wide quarry at just over 250mph to the sound of screeching metal and screaming people. As if his complaint had been heard the pair of them finally stopped showboating and instead rounded back across the quarry to get to the starting line.

 

Yoongi shifted to watch them from a better angle, moving to stand on the other side of the white car. On the light fixture there was a glowing amber light and he wondered what was going through Seokjin and Taehyung’s minds as they looked at it and waited. A quick glance over at the crowd showed that Jungkook had even turned back to look over his shoulder, watching it all keenly with those huge eyes of his. Then a blaring horn cut through the air and there was the unmistakable roar of the car engines kicking into power.

 

No matter how many times that he saw this Yoongi never got bored of it: the screeching tires, the stench of burning rubber and exhaust fumes, the screaming crowds and the engines that sounded like beasts released from cages.

 

The two vehicles weren’t at all matched on engine power and yet Seokjin never got close to the 250 range that he could achieve for risk of totaling the car. It didn’t look good if he crashed that gorgeous Jaguar XKR Convertible into a blockade or the seating area, and the man was all about looking good, so much so that he would cut nearly 100mph off his speed just to ensure that he could woo the crowd. With the top open he could see him shifting from the pressure of the curves, sliding along the seat slightly and then whipping back, dark hair a mess around his face as it fell forward and was then blew back off his brow. He really did look like a prince sitting inside of it and he knew that everyone else in the crowd thought that too, hair swept back to showcase his strong eyebrows that were furrowed in intense concentration, pretty face hardened in a way that was the visual equivalent of an iron fist in a silken glove.

 

Taehyung was not visible in his Mazda RX7 because of the roof but he didn’t need to be when his car stood out so much against the white quarry soil, a blur of red and flying streamers, loud rock music blaring out of the open windows so loud that it was like a soundtrack for the audience to scream along to. They rounded the first treacherous curve, the tires cutting tracks so deep into the soil that scorched black marks remained, Taehyung once again cutting it too close for proper comfort and yet still zooming down at the track at the fastest he could achieve, which was just below what Seokjin was playing with.

 

On the second blockade the younger male twisted too hard on the wheel and the back end crunched against the concrete, hitting hard and crumpling a dent near the tires that would take a lot of work to smooth out again. The streamers and cups still dragged along the air behind the vehicle like a bridal veil and the crash didn’t seem to faze him at all.

 

It never did, Taehyung enjoyed that part the most.

 

As Namjoon had predicted Seokjin won the laps but not by as much as the other man had likely been expecting. Yoongi made it perhaps two seconds between the flash of white and red in front of him and then he was turning to look over at Hoseok. His friend was against him, second match of the night and only one that he was up for, just like always. Hoseok slid off the top of the Bugatti and stretched his arms up over his head before offering him a wide grin. Good luck, is what his expression said.

 

Yoongi didn’t need luck. He had a car that was much better than that, and he crossed the lot to go and get it.

 

He never left it on clear display for the crowd for he greatly enjoyed rolling it out and under the floodlights and hearing them all cheering at the sight of it. He went around and to the building that he used as a mechanics, slipping his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the car with a press of the button. The headlights came on with the beeping noise and lit the front of the car up. His ride wasn’t something as extravagant as a Bugatti Veyron, didn’t have the awe of the Jaguar XKR Convertible but it was something alright.

 

The Nissan S14 was made for drifting. It had a low body that pressed close to the ground and multiple vented grilles on the front under the rectangle headlights. Rounded curves to the front and back of the body, nice rise for the seating area and then a spoiler on the back just like Taehyung’s vehicle. There was no shit hanging from his one however. The paint job wasn’t glossy but rather matte black and that was what had earned him the nickname Shadow from the current crowd that came to watch. But he had had a few. At one point he had been Silver Wind for the speed that he had hurtled down the track had been next to none, until the newest gang had showed up. Now he might not have the fastest car but he had something better, a modded up ride that could drift with ease under the guide of his hands. The turbocharged V6 engine block would cause a rumble much like an earthquake, a deafening roar that showed that it wasn’t just a small cat in the pit of sleek sports car big cats. His car was most certainly more of a beast than the exterior showed, and it would move so smoothly that under his control that it was almost as if it was a living creature rather than metal and chrome and leather.

 

Yoongi climbed inside and slammed the door shut before snapping his seatbelt in place. Then he was starting the engine and slowly driving across the lot to get onto the track. He caught sight of the passenger-seat door of the white Bugatti dropping down, a familiar flash of Taehyung’s grinning face as he got in and he knew exactly what that meant.

 

Hoseok was going to get to enjoy blazing down the track at the speed of lightning and he would have Taehyung climbing over the gear stick panel with his head shoved firmly between his thighs. Yoongi might not have been in the car with them both to personally witness this but he knew that it was the case. Hoseok liked the thrill of driving the fastest car currently on the lines available and Taehyung liked…whatever the hell kind of rush he got out of that he supposed.

 

Yoongi rolled onto the track at a nice slow speed, teasing the audience almost when he could hear them hollering through his window. He wasn’t going to give them all a show just yet, that only happened when he was physically racing, so he just lazily circled around Hoseok’s vehicle and let the engine rev a little loud like a growl. The flirting lasted just a mere minute before he got bored and decided to roll back over to the starting line and his friend took the hint and followed after him.

 

After lining their cars up perfectly Yoongi glanced out of the window to eye him on his right. Hoseok grinned widely at him and then shot him a thumbs up which he didn’t return. He spared another glance out of the window to his left to look over the crowd and he saw that most of them were standing up now, in anticipation of what was happening. He didn’t see a flash of white fur in the crowd and he wasn’t surprised so he turned back to stare at the amber light. When the colour flickered he got his foot ready and as the horn blared loudly he slammed it down and the car rolled forward as he shifted gears right to the highest one. It took a few seconds before the horse power kicked in fully and when it did it roared so loudly that he felt the engine block vibrating through the car. It was loud enough to almost drown out the crowd and he couldn’t even hear Hoseok’s underneath it.

 

This is what Yoongi lived for. This very moment that lasted mere moments before it was over, the pounding heart and the struggle to pull air into his lungs from the pressure of the car zooming down the dirt track; the crowd all gasping and shouting his nickname out as they waved betting slips and pounded their feet down on the metal seating. This was what kept him breathing.

 

Despite the roaring of his engine he was still a little behind his friend, because his car just had more velocity than he did. Even with his fixed up turbocharger he could barely press 200mph but Hoseok could sail over it by a comfortable amount. There was one major difference between them however. Yoongi tightened his grip on the wheel as he saw the blockade coming up, placed perfectly to cause trouble whoever came around the curve too hard. He had seen Taehyung scrape enough paint off on it multiple times enough to nearly gouge into the metal and yet none of them had crashed into it yet. He knew exactly what Hoseok would do, for he knew his driving just as well as he knew his own. His friend would lift his foot off the pedal as the blockade came close and shift gears, drastically dropping speed as he hit the clutch and twisted the wheel, allowing a smoother curve before slamming forward on the stick again and flying along the straight track. It was easy that way, and safer too, and he knew that everyone else on the team did it but not him.

 

Yoongi didn’t drop speed when he was on the track, he kept the speed constant until he was over the finish line and only then did he stop. Those precious few seconds of gear change cut seconds off their speed and that meant that even a 200mph stretch could be beaten so long as he caught up with those lost seconds. So when the blockade started to get close he started to hear the crowd reacting through the open window beside him, the screams starting to lower down in volume as people held their breath and waited to see what would happen: a crash or a miracle. It didn’t get silent, nothing close to it, but the air seemed to get filled up with a pressure that buried the noise.

 

Yoongi held his breath and then he took the plunge. He lifted his foot off the pedal and then he twisted the wheel to the side. There was a few seconds where the vehicle just drifted, turning on its side as it did, and then he slammed down on the pedal again and gained control of it once more. His car went completely off course, sailing to the left rather than rounding the right and then he jerked it back hard and got it back on the road, sailing right past Hoseok’s Bugatti that still had a few seconds to recover from the gear change.

 

The crowd exploded back into sound at this, this moment that had last nothing more than three seconds and that was when he knew that he had this race under his belt. It was easy now that he had overtaken him on the first curve, he just had to drift the next laps as smoothly as he could and then he would be zooming over the finish as the victor of the race.

 

So, he held onto the lightly vibrating wheel and he didn’t think at all, eyes fixed onto the road in front of him as he anticipated every slight twist of the wheel and calculated the pressure needed on the pedal. As he flew over the finish for the first lap he saw Seokjin on the sidelines with his hands cupped around his mouth but whatever he was yelling was lost under the roar of his engine and he was visible for barely a second before he was nothing more than a blur in his rear-view mirror. By the time that Yoongi was finished with the race he had earned perhaps three seconds on top of Hoseok because of his slowed down corners and when he went over the line he saw the crowd exploding across the quarry. Whoever had bet in his favour would be very happy right now, and whoever had bet against…well.

 

He veered his car off the track and back across to the lot so that he could kill the engine and spend a moment collecting himself. He had to after a race, because if he was to pop the door open and step out he would end up collapsing. His legs were so loose and shaking that he wouldn’t be able to stand up and the vertigo of getting upright would make his heart skip several beats in his chest. So Yoongi took his hands off the steering wheel and took deep breaths as he willed his heartbeat to get back to a normal beat, letting them out of his mouth as he exhaled.

 

After he felt more calm, more collected, he pulled the keys out of the ignition and popped the door open, slamming it behind him as he did. Then it was right back onto the track again to watch the next series of races. He didn’t watch them too closely however, but rather drifted off across the lot to collar Jungkook. The boy was hastily serving drinks as fast as his hands could let him, moving along the booth area in the seating created just for him. He would leave it to collect cash and hand out bets and then go right back for the drinks, and inside of it with him would be the thousands and thousands of rolled up and crumpled won notes that he had collected from the crowd.

 

“Oh, you’ve pissed a lot of people off tonight,” Jungkook said as he strained a martini for a buxom escort.

 

The woman looked all of nineteen and she was eyeing the boy with a warm smile on her face, maybe drunk, maybe just because she thought he was kind of cute. That was what everyone thought. There was a reason he was the team mascot, taking bets and serving drinks, rallying the crowd up before they even hit the tracks. One day he would have a car of his own to his name but not just yet. He still had to learn a lot about before he could get behind the wheel and risk killing himself from one bad spin of the steering wheel.

 

“Not my fault they see speed over technique,” Yoongi retorted as he watched him slide the plastic cup over to the woman.

 

She picked it up and lifted it in a slight salute before turning on her staggeringly high heels and making her way back across to the seats.

 

“These men work with numbers,” the boy retorted as he moved onto preparing shots of lemon soju and other drinks in advance for the next spill of buyers. “They don’t see anything but numbers but me, I’d have bet on you every time.”

 

“Sure you would kid, you’re just saying that ‘cos I’m standing in front of you.” But the wide grin on Jungkook’s face didn’t look guilty, rather genuine.

 

“Something’s got your attention,” the boy remarked as he dropped his gaze to the line of red plastic cups in front of him. “You’re not watching the races, so what the hell has got you thinking? Need a drink to settle your mind?” He shook his head at the offer and then glanced back over to look at the track. More flirting and showboating, Namjoon’s Chevrolet Chevelle with its shark grilles edging dangerously close to Seokjin’s snow white car. “Come on, you know you can tell me. I won’t say anything.”

 

“You ever see a guy come in here, young, not like the usual types?” Yoongi asked as he turned back to look at him. “Wears weird clothing, looks like he might do modelling in his spare time, ‘cept he models behind a rolling camera if y’know what I mean?”

 

“Do I see porn stars here?” Jungkook asked before laughing at his own words. “Nah man, I just see old farts and hot chicks that’s it. No hot guys, sorry.”

 

“There’s a guy here tonight, came in in a baby blue Lamborghini Gallardo,” Yoongi said as he watched him finishing off filling the shots. “I went up to check it out, got caught feeling up his car like a pervert. He knew all of the track names so I thought he might be a regular. That’s all.”

 

“Young guy? With a Gallardo?” The boy made a noise that sounded like a snort. “Then he really could be a porn star to afford one of those. Or the heir to Samsung, which one you thinking?” He just shrugged at the question. “Still, imagine having one of those babies on the track…” The word ‘babies’ caught Yoongi’s attention and he glanced up sharply at him before suppressing a smirk. “That would get even more cash flowing, right?”

 

“Think I’m gonna go for a ride,” he said as he shifted off the counter. There was a wave of people coming to get drinks and he didn’t want to get caught up in them. “Have fun arguing with drunk men over lost betting slips.”

 

“Isn’t it always fun?” Jungkook retorted as Yoongi lazily waved him off and crossed the lot to head back in the direction of his mechanic shed.

 

On the track the cars were zooming past and he didn’t even glance to look over at them. Instead he just went inside the open shed and that was when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, turning just in time to see him.

 

Jimin sitting on the seat of his Kawasaki Ninja Motorbike like he fucking owned it.

 

Yoongi was too stunned by the sight to react more strongly that blink at him.

 

The young man had his legs cocked up so that he could rest his heels on the chrome casting around the wheel and it made his already tight pants almost ridiculously so. It was hard to not look at the crotch area when it was so brazenly on display like that. Jimin was leaned back on his wrists and his coat had opened slightly. Now he could see more than dimpled muscles and a hint of chest, he could see his flesh as clear as if he wasn’t wearing that shirt at all. Navel, toned stomach, even his nipples were on display with the fur coat spread open. But most of all he stared at the sight of a white stick stuck between his two lips. Not a cigarette, but rather a lollipop likely pilfered from the glass jar that Taehyung kept on the tool bench.

 

“I should have known that Shadow would own an all black motorbike too,” Jimin remarked as he pulled the lollipop free. Swirled orb of white and red sugar. “Kinda clichéd don’t you think?”

 

“Get off my bike,” Yoongi said in a low voice, trying to not sound too aggressive or possessive over the vehicle.

 

Jimin held the lollipop in front of his lips for a moment as he considered this, slightly slick lips that sensed to glisten in the overhead buzzing fluorescent light.

 

“Tell me your name and I will.”

 

“No.”

 

“Call me baby and I will.”

 

Another no, this one making the man slip the lollipop back into his mouth. He did it slowly, pursing his lips around it and watching him just as intently as he watched his mouth; pouted spit slick lips enclosing around the lollipop.

 

“Hmm, let me think of something else then.” Jimin cheeked the lollipop and it stuck out under the skin of his cheek.

 

Yoongi could not believe that this stranger had just entered the quarry on his own accord and climbed onto his motorbike without a single care, and that he was currently debating with him to get him to get off it. By all rights he should be pulling him off it roughly, maybe punching him hard in the arm for touching it without his permission, yet he wasn’t doing anything like that. He was just standing on the spot, staring at him as if transfixed. Jimin rolled the stick back to the middle of his mouth and then pulled it free ever so slightly. This made his lips pout again.

 

“Yoongi,” he relented. “My name’s Yoongi.”

 

“So Yoongi,” Jimin said in a rather happy tone, climbing off the back and smiling at him. “What’s this called?”

 

He ran his hands along the seat slowly, almost caressing the leather. He might be sitting on the bike but he was still touching it like he owned it. He wanted to be annoyed but the sound of his fingers rubbing along the leather was pleasant enough for him to bite his tongue and not tell him to stop. Yoongi liked the touch of leather, from motorbike and car seats, and also the cool sensation against his bare skin when he curled up in the backseat of his car. That was just another part of the racing experience that excited him.

 

“I take it you’ve named this too?” Jimin’s fingers moved along over the gentle rise in front of the seat and then up to the front so that he could touch the low handlebars.

 

“Maybe I did…”

 

Riding on the Ninja, Yoongi would be sitting so far forward on the bike he would be practically lying on it, stomach against the curved rise. He wondered what Jimin would look like lounged over it, arms stretched to grip the handlebars and back arched. The young man bent forward to trace the black chrome facets above the wheels and the sight of his ass in those leather trousers caused a plummeting sensation deep down in his stomach. Now he wasn’t just imagining him leaned forward on the bike to ride it, he was imagining him spread over the leather and chrome; those annoying trousers nowhere in sight but the coat still present. Just the coat in fact. Hands on the bars, bare ass perked up so that the ends of the coat didn’t cover him very well at all. Yoongi's mouth felt dry and he was certain that he was stiffening in his jeans.

 

“Oh yeah? Let me guess, you won’t tell me the name?”

 

Yoongi couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at this for he was very much correct.

 

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

 

“You talk a lot, don’t you?” he retorted, quick and blunt like always.

 

It made Jimin smile as he reached up with one hand to pull the lollipop free again, other fingers still running along the handlebars. He was stroking it, that was the only word to describe the slow, drawn out movement of his fingers. Stroking it as if the Ninja was an animal…or something else.

 

“It helps for my profession,” Jimin said with a lackadaisical fashion, soft shrug making the coat slip down. Yoongi wondered about asking about that profession but chose not to. “You should talk more, you seem very interesting.”

 

Clearly the young man knew nothing about him or else he wouldn’t say that. He wasn’t at all interesting, the only interesting thing about him was his vehicles. Maybe that was what Jimin was talking about but he doubted it. Yoongi let this hang in the air for a minute before asking him what he was doing, asking him why he was in the mechanics.

 

“You didn’t give me a name, I wanted a name.” Jimin replied, as if this was the most obvious answer.

 

“I gave you my name, yet you’re still here.”

 

“Well, you said that the only people that know your name ride…” He shifted to go around the other side of the bike and then Yoongi watched him swing a leg over and climb onto the back seat. “I’ve never been on a bike before, what’s the model?”

 

“Kawasaki Ninja,” Yoongi said through rather numb lips.

 

Oh, he wasn't just a little stiff in his jeans right now, he was throbbing hard and he just knew that Jimin knew it too.

 

“Yoongi, let’s take this baby for ride.”

 

He had never rode his bike with another person before but he found that that didn’t really mean a thing. No one had ever asked, had ever had the guts to even suggest it never mind sit right on the back of the Ninja and tell him that they were going for a ride. Had anyone done that he might just have laughed in their faces but not Jimin. Jimin’s guts, coupled with the almost obnoxious attempts at flirting, made him feel like maybe he could just take him out for a quick ride on the bike. It was just a ride, nothing extreme, yet he couldn’t help but feel that Jimin was hinting at something…more than that.

 

Which was probably what caused him to shift and grab his jacket. Black leather, matched fantastically with Jimin’s trousers. He shrugged it on and then pulled the keys out of the pocket to cross the mechanics. At the sight of the glinting metal the young man made an excited noise and Yoongi climbed onto the Ninja and shifted to get into position, leaning forward as he started the ignition and gripped the handles. He didn’t mean to but he felt his ass rubbing against Jimin’s crotch and he was pretty certain that it made him press up against him.

 

“Hold on tight and stay low,” Yoongi advised as he felt him hunker forward and wrap his arms around his ribs tightly.

 

He kicked the starter and the engine rumbled to life and vibrated, making Jimin giggle against his shoulder. Then he was twisting the handles and curving out of the mechanics to get on the lot. Taehyung was standing to the side of the track hollering something and the sound of his engine roaring made him jump and whirl around to look at him.

 

“Hey, I was wondering where the fuck you were and-” the bike rolled out across the dust lot and his friend’s eyes widened when he caught sight of the mess of white fur wrapped around him, “Yoongz?! The fuck is that, is that a-”

 

Before he could finish this he had to leap out of the way so that he didn’t get clipped by the side of the bike. He yelped in surprise and he heard him shouting something at their backs that were lost beneath the roaring engines.

 

As he drove across the lot towards the slope that led out of quarry he saw Jungkook almost hanging out of his booth to watch him go in confusion. Up the slope and past the parking lot packed full of vehicles, up even further until they were back onto the main road and zooming down the tarmac. He didn’t know where he was heading for neither of them had said a thing, no destination in mind. It was very much like drifting, driving without a cause or a meaning, and the chill breeze blew against them and pulled their hair back off their brows and ruffled at Jimin’s coat. Talking was next to impossible with the wind hitting them and he felt Jimin’s face burrowing against his shoulder to block the force of it, so that he could catch his breath because he clearly wasn’t used to the sensation of riding a bike.

 

But there was no need to talk when the other man’s body did it all for him. At first it was the subtle push against his ass as he scooted closer, arms tight around his waist, then his breath as he moved his face along to his throat. Yoongi could feel him getting aroused, the press of bulging fabric against him. He stopped at a set of lights and let his breath out in a heavy sigh.

 

“Go for a ride?” Yoongi asked with a grin as he eyed the flow of traffic passing in front of them. “And I thought you meant the bike…”

 

“I’ll ride whatever you want me to,” Jimin said against his throat, breath hot on his skin. The lights on the fixture stayed annoyingly on red and if that wasn’t a warning sign then he didn’t know what was. “I watched you racing and I've never seen anything like that before. It was like you were flying and you didn’t crash even when I thought you would. You made me nervous and not many people can do that. Am I making you nervous right now?” Jimin knew that he was because he could hear the smirk in his voice, almost picture his lips lifting at the corners. “That car looked so good with you inside of it but I bet that you’d look even better inside of me.”

 

If Yoongi wasn’t already stiff in his jeans then that probably would have caused an instant hard on. He found it hard to believe that such filth spilled out of those pretty lips but it seemed to do so with great ease. The lights changed and he started off down the road, engine roaring back to life rather than purring. On the horizon he could see the unmistakable sight of Han River bridge and he knew that there would be shelter underneath it, the overhanging concrete balusters. So Yoongi picked up speed and went as fast as he could, leaned over the vehicle with Jimin pressed up against him. He loosened one arm from around his waist and ran his hand along his stomach before slipping it under his tee. He felt his warm palm caressing his skin before it slipped down to his waistband. By the time he was illegally cutting off the road to go down the dirt ramp towards the bridge Jimin had his hand tight around his erection.

 

Yoongi drove the vehicle right up and under the overhang so that they were plunged into temporary blackness and then the other man was pulling him off the bike and walking backwards until he felt his back collide with the concrete tunnel wall. Jimin’s arms went around his neck, the fur rubbing against his skin, and then he was dragging him close and kissing him. It wasn’t delicate, wasn’t a shy press of lips, rather he brought their mouths together in a near punch that he felt in his teeth. His mouth opened and he felt his tongue forcing its way between his lips so Yoongi opened the kiss up and let him inside. His breath was hot against the side of his face as he broke the contact and chased after his mouth again, moaning needily as he kissed him again; this time less messy and more passionate.

 

Yoongi’s own hands shifted from his coat and down until he could seize hold of his hips and then he was pushing him against the tunnel wall and grinding against him. It had been so long since someone had managed to evoke something this strongly in him, something powerful that he could barely control that hadn't been awkward experimental high school fumbles in an empty classrooms during break times, of crowded cinema bathroom stalls with more than one pair of hands pulling at his clothes. He had found something better than that, the sensation of hard leather steering wheels in his hand and the snap of the seatbelt biting into his ribs as he wrenched the wheel and gravity itself seemed to hold no sway over him. But then he had seen that stupid Lamborghini Gallardo and the flash of teeth behind soft lips, tanned skin and white fur, and he had found himself craving that old stupid rush again.

 

“Yoongi,” Jimin said breathlessly, hands shifting down from the back of his neck to his shoulders, to his ribs and then his behind so that he seized hold tightly and controlled his grinding. “I want you to fuck me.” Well, he didn’t need telling twice, but when he tried to get his trousers open he stopped him. “I want you to fuck me on…on your motorbike.”

 

Yoongi half-carried, half-dragged Jimin back over to the bike, doing so blindly not only because of the darkness under the bridge but also because the man was kissing him again, snagging his lower lip between his teeth and darting his tongue inside his mouth. When he finally got to the vehicle he reached back to grab the seat and steady himself and that was when he let him undo his leather trousers.

 

Yoongi struggled getting them down much further than his knees and Jimin slipped a hand inside his coat to get something out of a discreet inner pocket. He looked up from the sight of his rolled down trousers to see a square plastic wrapper in his hands: condom, lubricated and extra sensitive judging from the printed characters on the blue plastic. Then he was turning around to lean over the side of the motorbike to get into position. He felt Jimin wriggling underneath him, bringing himself upwards so that his bare ass rubbed against the material of his jeans, the contact unbearable through the strained material.

 

Yoongi tore at the packet with his teeth, not really caring in the slightest if he ripped it, and then he was fumbling with one hand to try and undo his jeans. He popped the button free and then had to pull the zipper and wrench down on his underwear. His erection popped free almost instantly, landing on the soft rise of Jimin’s buttocks. The weight made him moan and look back over his shoulder at him and Yoongi managed to get the condom free. It was slick with lube and he awkwardly slipped it onto his head and rolled his hand to get it on, trying to not get too much enjoyment out of the sensation.

 

“Hurry,” Jimin panted breathlessly, “hurry up and fuck me.”

 

Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time that he as done something like this but it really didn’t matter. Whatever he had done drunkenly in the past on the circuit would not come close to this, he knew that it was so.

 

After getting the condom on he reached down and grabbed hold of Jimin’s buttocks, kneading them as he parted them wider. Then he moved forward and rubbed the head of his cock around his entrance. Jimin let out another breathy noise at this, feeling him tracing his rim slowly. When he nudged his head inside he moaned throatily and then clenched around him. The pressure was enough to send a throb up into Yoongi’s stomach. Yoongi slipped out and then back inside, letting Jimin get used to his width, before sliding deeper inside. He had his hands still parting his buttocks and when he looked down he saw his cock disappearing inside of him, the tight little ring of Jimin's muscles almost shivering as he clenched around him. The sight was enough to make him feel himself leaking into the condom. Yoongi stayed inside him at that shallow length, thrusting lightly at first until he felt Jimin opening up to him, felt him loosening enough for him to go further. He let go of his ass with one hand and reached up to grab a handful of his fur coat instead, fingers sinking into the soft material.

 

“Go fast,” Jimin almost demanded, as if he was in charge. “Go as fast as that fucking cuh-car.”

 

Yoongi’s cock twitched at this and he slipped out to his head before thrusting his hips forward again. Jimin let out a cry at this and shuddered before jerking backwards against him, urging him deeper as he opened his legs wider. Yoongi held him down against the seat of the motorbike and then he picked up his pace. He went fast for several thrusts and then back out to his head before pounding forward again and every time that he did Jimin’s hips thumped against the seat, his own erection rubbing against the leather padding and smearing precum all over the black material. The sight was enough to make Yoongi feel weak; pure filth and yet art to his eyes. He was going so fast that every rock of his hips had Jimin crying out, moans and whimpers and grunts and when he pounded down into him he let out something close to shouts.

 

“Suh-say my name!” Jimin gasped, voice breathless hitch as he looked back at him.

 

Yoongi saw his half-lidded eyes, the flush on his cheeks and the sheen of sweat and drool on his skin. When he looked down he saw his ass spread wide open around his cock, deep red marks on his skin from where his fingers had sank into him. Jimin’s thighs were quivering with every rock of his hips and Yoongi knew that he was going to orgasm, they both were. So he managed to stutter it out for him, called his name even as the words spilled out of his lips and he felt a pressure building in the pit of his stomach.

 

When he did Jimin rocked backwards against him, throwing his ass back so that he went all of the way inside and that was when he started bucking on the motorbike seat. Yoongi heard the sound of him rubbing his cock against the leather, already slick with leaked cum, and then Jimin let out a series of strangled sounds that built up into a deep moan. His entire body shivered and hardened and then he ejaculated all over the seat.

 

But Yoongi wasn’t finished yet, he was still thrusting into him shallow and quick, his own climax starting to catch up. It was like the thrill of driving the car and yet something else entirely. The throbbing at the base of his cock intensified until he felt it in his chest, in his very head as his nerve ends tingled and burnt. Jimin was still whimpering as every thrust hit him right in that delicate bundle of nerves and made him shudder and then Yoongi reached up to snag hold of his hair instead of the coat, fingers sinking tightly into the messy tangle as his orgasm swept over him. The pulse swelled and then seemed to crash into him, made the air escape his lungs and his very vision flash white for a moment as he squeezed his eyes shut and felt them rolling under his lids. The roaring in his ears was as loud as the crowd back in the quarry and the heat that bloomed in his stomach burnt. Yoongi rode out his orgasm in a quivering mess, slumped over Jimin with his face pressed against the back of his coat. The pleasure was so intense that he could barely breathe and it took him a moment to catch his breath and then pull out of him.

 

Overhead on the bridge the traffic rumbled on like always, rumbling engines and blaring horns as the heavy goods vehicles bulldozed along Han River. After a minute of deep breathing Yoongi shifted to get off him, reaching back to feel for his bandanna. It had fallen free during their frantic attempt at lovemaking and he had to bend down to retrieve it, legs wobbling slightly as he did. Then he was handing it to Jimin to wipe at the seat. He did so without a hint of embarrassment, cheeks flushed from sex rather than blush. He pulled his trousers back up and fumbled with them whilst Yoongi slipped the condom off and dropped it without a care.

 

“Have I earned your name yet?” Jimin asked with that same mischievous expression as he shifted to sit on the back of the motorbike.

 

Yoongi saw the rise and fall of his chest and the light sheen of sweat on his glowing skin and he realised that he had caused that.

 

He thought that Jimin had more than earned it.

 

 

 

 

 

“So what’s this I’m hearing about you, huh?”

 

Yoongi was lying under the front end of the Bugatti Veyron on his board, wrench in hand and penlight torch currently held between his teeth so that he could train it on the spot he was working on. Another night on the tracks, another loose bolt in the left wheel axle that needed securing to make sure that the entire thing didn’t fall apart under the pressure that Hoseok exerted on it. 250mph and quick changing gears was bound to cause some troubles, and he was counting it as a blessing that the engine hadn’t started cutting out on him. Choppy at first until it started sputtering like an old man with lung cancer, spewing hours of exhaust out the end that was thick black and toxic smelling rather than grey and light. He could hear Hoseok’s voice surprisingly clear even underneath the vehicle, underneath the sound of hip hop coming out of a phone docking system across the mechanics, yet he couldn’t answer him with the torch in his mouth.

 

So he flexed his knees and gently pushed to roll out from under the car, just enough to pull the torch free and look up at him. The other driver was lounged on the hood like always, leaned on one elbow with his long legs dangling over the side; looked surprisingly comfortable. Yoongi didn’t ask him what he meant but just narrowed his eyes at him and waited for him to explain.

 

“Tae told me he saw you driving off with someone last night during the show. Couldn’t see much more than a fur coat and an ass he said, so that makes me curious.” Hoseok lifted one eyebrow at him, fluid and curious. “Give me the dirt.”

 

“Fuck off Hobie,” Yoongi muttered as he reached up and wiped at his face. He felt grease smearing against his cheek and he wouldn’t be surprised if it was in his hair though it would be hard to tell when it was the same pitch black.

 

Across the mechanics he heard a sniggering sound and a quick glance over showed him Jungkook seated cross-legged on the bench, sorting through won notes and bundling them up into tight rolls.

 

“I’m serious,” Hoseok said in a faux offended tone. “Min Yoongi riding off into the night with a hot piece of ass, I never thought I’d see the day. Y’know, for a little while I was almost convinced that you’d just stick to fucking your car.” Yoongi rolled back under the car, wheels clattering as he did, and he checked the axle once more. “Tell me, were they as tight as an exhaust pipe?” This was enough to make Jungkook start laughing fully, no doubt scrunching his nose up in that oddly endearing way of his. “Did you twist and press all of their buttons and play with their gear sticks?”

 

Hoseok had been spending too much time with Taehyung it would seem, he was spouting just as much puerile filth disguised as jokes that the other young driver would usually do. When he didn’t get a reply he heard him shifting on the hood of the car.

 

“C’mon, just talk to us. We’re all guys here, right Kookie?”

 

There was a murmured agreement.

 

“I’m busy fixing your fucking car,” Yoongi managed to say around the torch, lips pulling back from effort as he spoke through his teeth.

 

But that was pretty much a lie, he had secured the axle perfectly and it didn’t need tightening at all. He was just lying under the car because it was a good excuse to not have to roll back out and face more curious stares and questions.

 

“Well something must’ve happened,” Hoseok reasoned. “‘Cos if it hadn’t then you would just say that and you’d stop avoiding my questions like a pussy…”

 

Shit, he was right and they both knew it. Yoongi could have bullshitted something, anything, and even if they believed him it didn’t matter because he could have just stuck to it and refused to say anything else. But by going silent and hiding under the car it did seem like he had something else to hide too.

 

Jimin.

 

When Yoongi had woken up in the backseat of his Nissan S14, legs curled up and arms tight against his chest, he had done so in a dazed stare. His limbs had felt heavy and when he had shifted to sit up he had felt a strange sensation around his loins, a tenderness like a blossoming bruise and a matching ache in his thighs; pulled muscles. He had woken up with dried cum stuck to his underwear and the faintest recollections of lucid dreams that he hadn’t experienced in quite some time. Jimin and his Lamborghini Gallardo, baby blue, and his shameless flirting, tight leather trousers as he had climbed onto his Kawasaki Ninja and his lips pursing around the stolen lollipop; the drifting down the streets of the capital with his hand down the front of his jeans and then the sight of his ass wiggling and begging him to fuck him. It was no wonder that he had wet dreams because of it all. The thoughts were enough to make a shiver run down his spine and Yoongi’s teeth bit down on the torch unconsciously.

 

He had brought him back to the quarry last night and had watched him climbing into the Gallardo, window rolled down so that he could lean out and tell him that they would be seeing each other really soon, promising that they would in fact, and then Yoongi had went down into the quarry to park his bike and sleep. He always slept in the mechanics, in his car with the back windows rolled down, because he had nowhere else to lay his head. There was a converted bathroom for him to clean up in, a small area across the mechanics that had a stove and microwave fitted for his food needs. He didn’t need an apartment room when he lived on the tracks day-in, day-out. Truthfully he liked the cool sensation of the leather on his skin and he found that nothing helped him drift off to sleep better than it. It soothed him, or at least it had in the past. Now he wasn’t so sure that he would associate leather with feelings of contentment, much rather excitement.

 

Jimin rubbing his leaking cock all over his leather motorbike seat…

 

“Honestly, Yoongi,” Hoseok continued. “It’s just fucking, it’s nothing important so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed talking about it.”

 

“I think it’s kinda important,” Jungkook mumbled under his breath, the sound of the paper notes rustling in his fingers as he tied them together with an elastic band.

 

This made Yoongi smile softly, lips curving around the torch as he reached up to pull it free and shine it on the bottom of the car. All looked good to his eyes. There was a childish naïvety to Jungkook’s words that were at odds with the usual shit that he heard from his friends.

 

“…Sure it is,” Hoseok replied in a sarcastic tone.

 

Yoongi rolled out from under the car with a hard push, skateboard wheels making him roll a lot further out than needed. He stopped it before he rolled too far and then he shifted so that he was sitting on it instead of lying.

 

“Get off, let me look inside,” Yoongi said as he got to his feet and gestured for him to move.

 

Hoseok climbed off the hood and then popped it open for him, revealing the engine block. He leaned over, planting both hands on the rim of the hood so he could eye the interior. He didn’t like how his friend stayed right beside him however, looking at the back of his head and nearly breathing down his neck even with the few inches of height difference.

 

“Did you fuck someone last night, that’s all I want to know?” Hoseok asked as Yoongi reached down to run his finger along a valve. It reminded him of Jimin caressing the chrome facets of his Kawasaki Ninja. He asked him why he really needed to know and he heard his friend shrugging, the rustle of his loose tee. “I don’t need to know, I just wanted to know.”

 

Yoongi pulled his hand back with a heavy sigh and spared a glance back over his shoulder at Jungkook to see the boy busy with his counting task, eyes running over the box full of cash as he pulled handfuls out and started building another bundle.

 

“…Yeah,” he replied as he looked back at the engine block. “I did, there you can stop harassing me now.”

 

Hoseok practically squeaked at him. Yoongi could see that the engine was in very good shape and so he reached up to slam the hood down.

 

“Escort? CEO? Wasted college kid? What’re we talking here?”

 

It was his turn to shrug, telling him that he had no clue. He really didn’t know what Jimin did for a living and he didn’t really care. He was hardly going to play a guessing game with his friend.

 

“If it’s who I think,” Jungkook said suddenly, perking up on his seat as a grin appeared on his lips. “It’s a rich guy with a Lamborghini Gallardo. Looks like a porn star according to Yoongi…”

 

“You fucked a porn star?” Hoseok asked incredulously before bursting out into laughter and thumping him hard on the back. Yoongi nearly bit his tongue and he glared at him but the younger male was too busy patting at the back of his head to notice it. “Unbelievable, you little fucker you.”

 

“I said looks like,” Jungkook reiterated with a blank expression.

 

Hoseok waved his free wrist at him as if brushing these words away.

 

“The most important part isn’t that he looks like a porn star, does he fuck like one?”

 

Yoongi shrugged his hand off him and moved over to the tool table to grab his air pressure meter, offering the boy a withering look as he did. Jungkook just shot him an apologetic smile in response. Of course he had stupidly asked the boy about Jimin only to have been caught riding off with him like that, after he had told him about the Gallardo and the young attractive owner that had caught his eye. Within the next hour everyone on the track would know that he had ran off with him for a quick fuck and he didn’t know how he felt about that. Should he even give a shit if they found out? Like Hoseok said, it was just fucking right? It wasn’t even important. So why did the idea of them all knowing make him feel so strange? Yoongi shifted to get down on the board and then he rolled over to the front tire, sticking the meter in to gauge the pressure.

 

“He must to afford a Gallardo…”

 

“See Kookie, smart thinking. He’s a daddy’s boy with cash to waste or he’s got a couple of daddies of his own, huh?” He just stared at the tool in his hand rather than look at him. “Shit, one of us should really look into that, get a free Gallardo.”

 

“It’s hardly free,” Jungkook argued as he tied up another bundle of notes. “If you have to blow an old guy a hundred times to get it then it’s most certainly not free.”

 

“I’d blow anyone for a Gallardo,” Hoseok admitted without a hint of shame. “I’d blow Kim himself live on North Korean television.” The joke made Yoongi shake his head, corners of his lips lifting in a wide smirk. “But I don’t think I’m the ‘daddy’ type. Now, Kookie, you’re about the right type. Young, inexperienced, tighter than a drum.” Jungkook made a disgusted noise from across the room but there was a wide grin on his face. “Let him start looking around and we’d have a Gallardo on this circuit in a week.”

 

“We could have a Gallardo right now if we wanted one,” Yoongi argued. “But we can’t and you know the reason why. Your fucking boyfriend would crash it into the quarry wall for fun. We’re not pimping the kid out so it can last a day before being ruined.”

 

“You’re speaking like pimping me out is a possibility…” Jungkook said with something close to concern, another bundle tossed into the box in front of him.

 

“Tae can’t help it he gets a little…excited when he’s around high power engines.”

 

“I know, I’ve had to drag him out of my own car enough times after finding him sitting in the driver-seat twisting the keys just to turn the engine on.” Yoongi pulled the meter free and checked to see that the air level was fine. “He’s not allowed near a turbocharger, OK?” Hoseok made a noise in agreement. “And if he’s crashes that fucking Mazda RX7 then he’s not allowed a car that goes over 150 either.”

 

“He’ll never win a race that slow,” Jungkook remarked. Yoongi pointed out that he rarely won races anyway because of his poor technique and habit of crashing added seconds onto his time rather than shaving them off. “I know, but it would affect the bets. No one would bet on him to win and fixing would be so much harder when he’s driving at half the speed of the rest of the team.” The boy had a good point but still…Taehyung needed to stay away from turbochargers before he really did kill himself. “Just control your boyfriend, Hobie, save us a lot of trouble.”

 

“Ha, you think I can stop him?” Hoseok started laughing heartily. “I encourage him most of the time, not on purpose but uh…anyway, I’d need to have him on a leash to control him.”

 

Yoongi lifted his gaze from the tires to look at his friend and then dropped his eyes to the meter in his hand. A leash…? Why did hearing that suddenly make him think of Jimin? It should have conjured up images of Taehyung trying his very hardest to chase after his car, dragging Hoseok along in the dirt behind him; as would happen if they put on a leash on the young rider. Yet it didn’t come to mind.

 

Instead he pictured the sight of material wrapped taut around his fingers, a stretch of material that lasted several feet before coming to a stop in the form of a collar around Jimin’s neck; the young man lounged back on the cream seating of his car, naked with his legs spread just for him. Yoongi swallowed the lump in his throat and he looked between his two friends but they were too busy making jokes about Taehyung to notice. How long had it been since Yoongi had thought about something like that? Since he had had his classmates pull on his tie tight enough to make him feel pressure at the base of his throat, not exactly choking but close to it? The ones that had wanted to vent exam stress and hormones, locked in school for so many hours that they had had no choice but to turn to each other for borderline sadistic bullying. Except he hadn’t found the bullying unpleasant at all. No, he would much prefer the collar on his own throat rather than Jimin’s because the other man could pull on it and make him gasp for air when he went deep and-

 

“I just noticed that you’re trying to change the subject!” Hoseok announced suddenly as he turned to look back at him.

 

Yoongi was jolted out of his daydream about being lightly choked until his vision started to go a little fuzzy at the corners and he nearly dropped the pressure meter in surprise. He managed to catch it and looked up at him sharply.

 

“Don’t fall in love with a whore,” his friend philosophised. “Fall in love with a slut like Tae instead.”

 

“…Thanks for the advice but I'm not in love,” Yoongi muttered as he got to his feet and moved over to the bench.

 

The toolbox was stacked under it so he pulled it free and checked the contents to make sure that he had all that he would need. Satisfied that it was all there he lifted it and felt the heavy weight of the contents pulling him down on one side like an anchor. Jungkook finished with another bundle of notes and there wasn’t much left for him to sort out for tonight, he was working as fast as he always was. The kid was a whiz with things and he wondered what his nickname would be when he finally managed to hit the circuit. Probably something speedy, maybe not as fast as lightning but close to it. He reached over to roughly ruffle at his hair and the sudden contact made Jungkook jerk and then look up at him, eyebrows raised in a ‘what?’ expression. But there really was no reason for what he had done and so he just crossed the mechanics to step out onto the lot.

 

The sunlight was blinding and he could feel himself squinting within seconds. He located Taehyung right across the dust lot on the metal seating, arms held up high at his sides as he walked along the bench like it was a tightrope. He saw that he had tied his denim jacket around his waist tightly and that his tanned arms were on clear display because of his white vest. Clearly he was bored out of his brains or suffering from heatstroke, it was hard to tell with the younger racer most of the time.

 

“Tae!” Yoongi called as he cupped his free hand around his mouth. “You need a check up?”

 

“Uh…yeah!” He jumped down from the bottom bench and he saw dust clouds flying up around his Docs, settling on the black leather in a fine layer. “Engine’s sounding a little choppy I think there’s a problem but I dunno what!”

 

Choppy engine? That could be one of many things and the only way to tell would be to open the hood and really get a good look inside.

 

So Yoongi told him to come over and start the engine for him so that he could see it working and figure it out. Taehyung skipped across the lot in the direction to the Mazda RX7 and he pulled out his keys to unlock it. He popped the hood up and then opened the driver-seat to sit inside, so he moved over and dropped his toolbox in front of the car.

 

“Tell me when.”

 

“Go for it.”

 

So Taehyung twisted the keys and the engine started rumbling. After a few seconds there was a sudden stalling noise that lasted for a second or two and then the engine was back to normal again.

 

“Yeah, I see what you mean.”

 

“Noticed it last night!” the young driver called as he leaned around the open door to look at him. “Around the third race, lost a couple of seconds ‘cos of it.”

 

Yoongi thought that he had lost seconds through another reason entirely but he didn’t question this and instead observed the engine. It was the carburetor, he knew that it was running too rich and spraying way too much gasoline into the engine. He could tell from the fact that it was making loud sounds just like Taehyung had explained, that choppy sound that was a sign of a stalling engine. It needed cleaning and that meant quite some time spent removing parts and then replacing them, the scent of cleaning fluid strong enough to give him a headache. Trust Taehyung to have a dirty carburetor just to get under his skin.

 

“Kill the engine, I know what it is!” Yoongi waved at him, slicing his wrist in a ‘kill it’ motion and a second later he turned the engine off.

 

“Did I break it again?” Taehyung asked in a quiet voice, sounding a little guilty even though there was no need for him to do so. It was a common error, likely caused from the fast gear changes. Absolutely any of them could have done it by accident and even Yoongi had busted an entire carburetor once in the past and had had to cannibalize and rebuild a brand new one. So he told him that he hadn’t, that it was fine, and this made the younger male puff his cheeks up in a sigh of relief. “Good, I thought you were gonna kick my ass… You working tonight?”

 

“No, not after last night. I worked the crowd up, let’s leave ‘em hanging for a day or two before I come back onto the tracks,” Yoongi explained as he grabbed a socket wrench and leaned inside to start working on the carburetor. “Gotta tease ‘em, right?”

 

“You’d know a little about teasing wouldn’t you?” Taehyung asked as he climbed out of the car and shifted to drag himself up and onto the roof.

 

Yoongi looked up in surprise as he kicked his legs and shimmied onto it, twisting so that he could lie down and watch him, chin on his folded up elbows and legs stretched out over the back. He looked very comfortable on there even though the metal body was probably baking hot from the sun.

 

“Last night you were teasing us all, between the races and that piece of ass you ran off with.”

 

Yoongi decided that silence really was his greatest weapon at this point and he just concentrated on working on the car rather than try and talk his way out of another discussion.

 

“He? Yeah I think it was a he, he looked pretty cute…” Taehyung continued, eyes moving languidly under his thick lashes as he watched him work. “I didn’t know you liked cute things. Isn’t Kookie cute enough for you?”

 

“Kookie’s a high school dropout-”

 

“College freshman that never went to college as of next month actually, totally street legal.”

 

“Tae, there’s no such thing as street legal when it comes to sex; stop talking shit,” Yoongi muttered as he removed the first series of bolts and shifted to place them inside the special holder in the toolbox to save him from losing a single one. But Taehyung carried on, going on and on about how clubs these days had sixteen year olds displaying and he scoffed. “Yeah, looking for a fucking sugar daddy, that’s street legal for you.”

 

"Just saying-"

 

“Tae, I’m not interested in Kookie. Wherever you got that idea from, you’re wrong.”

 

The younger male said that they would make a cute couple and he rolled his eyes and continued working on the carburetor. Interested in Kookie? The team mascot? Yoongi felt nothing but an almost brotherly urge towards the boy, one that he didn’t necessarily feel towards the others. He found him cute in the same way one would find a sibling cute, a nice one that one actually enjoyed being related to. Not like his real brother… But still, Taehyung making a remark like that so casually, it was enough to irritate him and make him worry that he would say something like that in front of Jungkook and make everything weird between them both.

 

“He looked cute. Does he cum cutely?” Yoongi glared up at him and Taehyung grinned down at him. “Hobie does, he does this thing when-” he told him that if he wanted his car fixed then he had to shut up and his friend’s wide grin died and dropped at the corners, “why’re you so grumpy Yoongz?”

 

He didn’t reply as he leaned closer to get a better view, and after another minute or two Taehyung sighed heavily and got down off the car to cross the lot.

 

Yoongi didn’t watch him go but he knew that he went into the mechanics for the music changed from a bass ridden hip hop track to an obnoxious rock guitar, signalling that he had changed it. In the current sweltering heat he knew that this work would be hell but the faster he finished the faster he could climb into the shady backseat of his Nissan S14 and sleep the afternoon hours away. So he just concentrated on removing the exterior parts and then set about cleaning the machinery thoroughly with fluid. He had to cover his lower face with a bandanna, a different one from yesterday, to block the noxious fumes from poisoning him, and the gloves saved his fingers from any nasty burns. When the parts were free of gasoline build up he made sure to check the carburetor one last time to make sure that that was the only problem, and satisfied that it was he secured the parts once more in place. A quick twist of the keys Taehyung had left in the ignition made the engine run smoothly without a single choppy hiccup and so he slammed the hood down and silently congratulated himself for a job well done; a job that took the best part of two hours to complete.

 

After cleaning his gloves through using the outdoor pump affixed to the mechanics he went to check on Namjoon and Seokjin's vehicles. Neither needed any work done for they were in good shape and Yoongi made a mental notes to work on Taehyung’s bumper on the one night the track was closed: tomorrow. He would have to remove the bumper and hammer the thin metal back into shape before melding it onto the car again. Then it would require buffering to smooth the seams down and a paint job over the marks. That was the kind of work he required a day to do, because the car couldn’t possibly race the same night.

 

So Yoongi just stretched his aching muscles and crossed the lot to get to his car, pulling the backseat open and sitting down to remove his boots. He didn’t want to track dust inside and all over the leather. With the door closed and the window open just slight enough to keep the air fresh he could barely hear the others messing around in the quarry. The drone of rock music still bled inside but he was used to it so he just settled on the backseat and curled his legs up to get comfortable.

 

And was awoken to the sound of roaring and blaring horns.

 

Yoongi jolted awake and nearly slammed his head against the armrest of his car. His eyes were glued shut and his mouth was so dry that his tongue felt like carpet. He struggled into seating position and let out a cracked moan at his stiff muscles. After a moment of hanging his head and making disgruntled noises under his breath he reached up to rub his eyes hard and forced them open. Then he shifted to get a better view out of the front window.

 

Across the quarry the seats were filling up and the horn seemed to be coming from a bunch of drunk - or stoned - college kids; an obnoxious red bullhorn that got right under his skin. Yoongi realised that it was past midnight and he had slept for hours, no water or food since the early morning. There was a hollow area under his ribs and he popped the door open to step out of the vehicle. His bare feet brushed against quarry dirt and yet he didn’t care as he went around the back of the mechanic building and entered through the side door. Inside he found food in the form of cold leftover ramyun one of his friends had left on the small stove and he ate it standing in front of the pot rather than attempt to sit down on the tool bench. He was in the process of downing a bottle of water when Seokjin stepped through the open front entrance and stared at him with comic surprise.

 

“Where the hell have you been?”

 

“Asleep in my car,” Yoongi replied as he rolled his shoulders, reaching up to massage at one roughly and attempt to loosen a knot in it. “Think I’m gonna take a cold shower and try and wake myself up.”

 

“It will have to be cold, boiler’s broken again. Tried cleaning my angel down earlier but could only get lukewarm water.” His angel being his Jaguar XKR of course. “Left a nice shine on the body but I couldn’t feel my hands for an hour.”

 

Yoongi made a noise at this as he placed the bottle down on the counter, thinking of a plan in his mind. A quick shower in the tiny bathroom, changing out of his grease and sweat stained clothing. Spend the night watching the races and showing his face to build up some hype. Wake up tomorrow and clean the place down: clothes, cars, building. He could fix Taehyung’s bumper and-

 

“Hey?”

 

He snapped out of his thoughts roughly and shifted to look at his friend.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I said,” Seokjin said with a slight smile, “that there’s a certain Lamborghini Gallardo back on the lot again. Top of the bluff like yesterday. Seems that the owner’s interest is piqued.” Yoongi tried to not react to this but internally his stomach jerked up into his mouth, as if someone wearing a slick rubber glove had squeezed it hard. “And I don’t mean by the racing…”

 

“You on tonight?” he asked as he reached up and consciously scratched at the back of his neck, gave his trembling fingers something to do other than shake at his sides uselessly.

 

“Second race and fourth, Tae’s doing a special tonight. Obstacle course run or something, you know how the crowd loves watching him crash and burn rubber.” Yoongi thought about more dents that he would have to fix out in the body and he didn’t even wince because the idea was roughly pushed away by the fact that Jimin was present. Maybe he was in the crowd right now, waiting for him to appear and acknowledge him before sneaking back across the lot to sit on his Kawasaki Ninja and wait for him? “You alright?” He made a noise that vaguely sounded like an agreement. “You seem distant.”

 

“Just thinking…”

 

“About the owner of the Gallardo?” Seokjin asked before sighing dramatically. “I’m not happy about the car getting people’s attentions but at least my adoring fans only have eyes for me.” And the men that pay to fuck them, Yoongi thought but didn’t say. “Speaking of adoration I should go and show my face for them.”

 

And with that his friend turned on his heel and exited the mechanics, leaving him alone inside of the open building. Yoongi stayed rooted to the spot for a minute before deciding that the cold shower sounded fantastic so he went into the small bathroom. It was nothing more than a toilet and cramped shower cubicle but there was a storage area built onto the wall that served as a wardrobe for him; wardrobe meaning that he just shoved clothing inside of it without a care. Seokjin wasn’t lying about the water but he did manage to get it slightly warm, lathering wash and scrubbing hard to remove the dried smears of grease that coated his forearms. When he finally felt clean he got dressed in his usual jeans and loose tee combo, settling for a white one with a low neckline not because he chose it on purpose but because it was the first one he grabbed. At least there are no holes in it, like there were in most of his clothing because of wear and tear.

 

No longer feeling foggy and heavy limbed but rather wide awake he exited the mechanics and eyed the lot in front of him. All three of his crews’ cars out and ready for business, Namjoon was the only one in sight sitting on the hood of his Chevrolet Chevelle with his arms folded over his chest. All black, his hair breaking the block up just like the stripes on the body of his car.

 

“Hey,” Namjoon said with a nod and he glanced at him. “Thanks for fixing up Tae’s ride, he can play tonight no problem.” Yoongi brushed the thanks off with a wave of the hand. He didn’t need thanks, he was just doing his job. “Probably gonna regret it when he smashes it to shit again but…whatever, right?”

 

“Right,” Yoongi agreed with a slight nod.

 

He ran his eyes over the track to see that Seokjin was standing in front of the crowd and he seemed to be talking though it was hard to tell judging from the back of his head. Mostly he could see how all of the escorts had shifted over to get closer to him, buyers completely forgotten in favour of ‘The Prince’. Jungkook wasn’t in his booth because he was still taking bets, walking up and down the seats accepting wads of notes before handing out sprawled sheets with odds and info on. He watched him scribble something onto a sheet and hand it to a portly man who proceeded to turn and shove it into the cleavage of his escort. This caused everyone around them to laugh, the young lady perking her breasts up in a showy fashion, and Jungkook didn’t even blink as he moved onto the next bet. The boy was used to it all by now, barely even fazed by the sight of tight bodices digging into breasts, of the slightest aureole of nipple visible from an accidental slipped neckline, or legs visible from ankle to near hip when the escorts sat down. No, Jungkook had more important things to worry about, like fleecing as much cash out of the drunken rich fuckers as possible instead.

 

“You’re up in two days,” Namjoon said as he turned to look across the quarry too. “Me and you buddy, like I stand a fucking chance.”

 

“Want me to fold?”

 

“Nah, they’ll know it’s a scam if you do. Losing to Hobie every now and again, the rare lose to Jin’s better horsepower, all legit. Not losing to me.” His friend laughed softly. “Easy win, no stress. Gotta tease the crowd. Can’t give ‘em high octane shit every night or they’ll get bored.”

 

“Always someone ready to take their place,” Yoongi muttered as he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Always another rich asshole with nothing better to do.”

 

“Pretty soon we’ll be those rich assholes,” Namjoon said before grinning wide. Across the lot Seokjin must have done something because they could hear the escorts cooing loudly at him. “More money than sense, and a strong sense for fun.”

 

Yoongi often wondered if the men in the crowd even liked the cars. Were they there for the cars and the actual sport, or just the thrill of fast cash, fast women and fast pleasure? Were his friends even working the circuit because they loved it all as much as him, or were they just like the last crew he had been stuck with; there for fame and fortune before death scared them off. Death didn’t scare Yoongi off, didn’t sway him in the slightest, because he cared more about his vehicle and the track than his actual self. He trusted the car and his own hands to keep him safe.

 

The Nissan S14 wasn’t really a vehicle. Yoongi sometimes thought that it was an extended part of him, less a limb but something more important instead. His lungs, maybe even his heart.

 

“You think we’ll last long enough to retire?” he asked as he studied the side of his friend’s face.

 

Namjoon was silent and contemplative as he thought this over before shrugging and saying that he didn’t know, but he knew one thing: he wasn’t going to retire. The remark made Yoongi smirk. He was correct, he didn't see retirement in his future either. He would drive until he couldn’t do so anymore or he would die first. Personally he found the idea of dying young when he still had quick reflexes and could drift more preferable to getting rusty. He wondered if any of the others felt that way too. Seokjin wouldn’t stay young and beautiful forever, Hoseok would have to slow down at some point. He wasn’t sure if Taehyung’s obsession with totaling cars was because he had already become fixated with the thoughts of dying quick and glorious, or whether the collision and the snap of the belt across his ribs gave him a boner. It was very hard to tell with him, Taehyung barely vocalised his private thoughts aloud though he thought that Hoseok might be privy to them. He didn’t even know what Namjoon would be thinking in the future, but he thought that dropping out with a bank account in the ten digits was more his style. He would play the game and quit whilst he was ahead, the smart way.

 

Yoongi was so into his thoughts that it took him a moment to realise that Namjoon was staring at him intently. He held his gaze before asking him ‘what?’ and his friend just shrugged and said that it was nothing as he turned his attention back to the empty track. The track had been swept down but by the end of the night the thick white quarry dust would be coating it like always. Yoongi pulled a hand free to reach up and mess with his hair, which was only slightly damp from the shower. He was just tugging on it out of boredom when his eyes swept across the audience and he saw him sitting there, nestled away in a grouping of rich businessmen like a solitary star.

 

Jimin nearly glowed next to them, them in their boring suits and stiff white collars. He wasn't wearing that fur coat but rather just a vest that showcased his arms, just like Taehyung had earlier. Except he could see that Jimin had stronger arms than him, his biceps toned and obvious because he had his arms crossed over his chest. Tanned and toned arms over his black vest, a vacant expression on his face as he stared across the quarry.

 

Almost as if they were attuned to one another Jimin reached up to rake a hand through his hair, brushing that little lock back with the rest of his dark hair. Yoongi recalled snagging a tight handful of it last night whilst Jimin had bucked backwards against him, moaning and trembling.

 

“Talking about retirement, shit,” Namjoon laughed and shook his head at this. “We haven’t even hit thirty yet and here we are talking about being old.”

 

“I feel old,” Yoongi muttered as he watched Jimin gently run his fingers through his hair to the back of his neck, lightly tousled lengths that would run down to smooth skin. “When I’m not behind the wheel I feel old…”

 

He neglected to also add the name of a certain person across the quarry to this; the young man that had given him a little rush that had edged close to that of drifting. It hadn’t reached it just yet, but he was willing to bet that a few test drives would see him getting better and better.

 

“You look old,” his friend retorted with a wide smile. “No matter how long you work in the sun you barely get any colour, you’re always sleeping the day away and only come to life when the sun sets. You’re kinda like a vampire.”

 

Yoongi retorted that he didn’t bite, all the while looking at Jimin’s supple skin and thinking about sinking fingers and teeth into it. Did Jimin bite? Maybe, all he knew was that he liked it fast just like his car.

 

“But yeah, hopefully you’ll have less work to do tomorrow if Tae behaves and doesn’t total his ride again.”

 

“If he does I’m not dragging him outta the wreckage, you can do it instead,” he retorted as he stopped playing with his damp hair and started running his fingertips along with his lower lip.

 

Jimin’s fingers were still teasing his hair, his gaze moving along the track and expression staying bored. At the bottom of the seats Seokjin did something and the women squealed so Jimin shifted his attention down to his friend. He eyed him for a mere moment before looking away once more. Either he didn’t see Seokjin as a rival or he saw himself as the clear victor. He knew that he craved attention because he had to, driving a Gallardo and dressing the way that he did. Yoongi thought that Jimin craved attention just as much as he craved leather and exhaust fumes.

 

“Tae will fly clear of the wreckage, y’know him.”

 

Yoongi had seen men and women on his old teams flying out of wrecked cars, shattered glass shredding skin to ribbons and opening jugulars like scissors through paper. Flying clear didn’t mean flying free to safety, often it meant flying into even more trouble.

 

“Just tell him to him behave.”

 

“You’re not watching?”

 

“…No, I’ve got other plans.”

 

Yoongi crossed in front of the car without even glancing over at his friend and he heard Namjoon laughing at him, eyes on his back as he walked towards the quarry stage. As he got closer they seemed to notice him and he heard quite the murmur coming from everyone. They were probably wondering if he was racing tonight and considering placing bets and Jungkook would have fun turning said bets down. He didn’t take his eyes off Jimin and after a few seconds the other male finally dropped his gaze to study him.

 

Yoongi had a feeling that he had known that he was approaching and he had bide his time to ensure that they locked eyes exactly when he wanted them too. When they did he saw his lips pout out slightly before curving up on one side; crooked teasing smile. He had wondered if Jimin had woken up this morning tender and bruised and thinking of him and it seemed that he had gotten his answer. He dropped his hand from his hair and hesitated before tinkling his fingers at him in a semi attempt at a wave. Yoongi didn’t return it but instead cocked his head in the direction of the slope that led out of the quarry. Jimin took the hint, teeth flashing free to bit down on his lip. He did it on purpose to make him drop his gaze, he knew it. Then he was shuffling his way along the bench to get away from the crowd, heading in the direction of the slope.

 

Yoongi was certain that there was a spring in his step as he did and he watched him rub shoulders with escorts and businessmen to get out. He also saw a few watching him go out of the corners of eyes, not wanting to be caught staring at him but finding it hard to not look at him, especially in the skintight black jeans he was wearing. Yoongi just started off up the slope and he was near the top when he heard footsteps crunching on the gravelly soil and feet something brushing against his elbow.

 

He turned to see Jimin’s hand encircling right above his elbow joint, holding onto him because his hands were firmly stuck inside his jeans pockets. For some reason there was something strange about seeing his hand on his skin like that. He supposed that most people would feel such a sensation long before anything more intimate, the feel of skin against skin: palms of hands and fingers entwining rather than quick and rough sex over a motorbike.

 

Weird, he much preferred the sex.

 

“It’s funny,” Jimin said as he picked up his pace to walk at his exact speed. “I was thinking about you and then you appeared just like that. Were you thinking about me too?” He leaned closer as he said this, wafting the scent of his spicy cologne and something else too, something sweet on his breath: peppermint candy.

 

Yoongi replied nonchalantly that he might have been, before asking him why he had been on his mind.

 

“Sitting down there in the crowd is horrible, too much noise. I wanted to watch the races but I didn’t want to be surrounded by all of that shit so I was thinking of watching from up here instead. But it’s boring sitting in my car alone so I thought that company would be so much better.”

 

Jimin shoved his hand into his jeans pocket -how he managed to fit anything inside the tight material was beyond him - and then he was pulling the car keys out to jangle them at him. Yoongi eyed the lock pad, gold and possibly plated but maybe real. Something twinkled the floodlights back at his eyes, a gleaming gemstone just as bright as the metal keys.

 

Looking at those keys made Yoongi’s mouth feel so dry that it was almost funny. Lamborghini Gallardo keys, a near two billion won set of car keys lightly dangling from Jimin’s fingers like they were nothing special. Keys that would slip into the ignition so tight and twist and make the engine scream. It was enough to make his stomach feel tight and he wondered if Jimin even knew how excited the keys made him.

 

“I was thinking that it would be more fun to watch it together. You and me, the Gallardo.” Jimin’s fingers twitched and the keys danced melodically. It was music to his ears. “Then we could go for another ride.” He paused before adding. “You’ve never drove a baby like that before, right?”

 

Yoongi managed to mumble a no. He knew that the other man knew that it was so because he had only just told him yesterday that he had never seen a Gallardo in reality before, clearly he had never drove one except in his imagination.

 

Jimin smirked at him and then said that there was always a first time for everything before pulling him in the direction of the car. When he unlocked it by pressing the button, the headlights flashing, Yoongi went around the side to get into the driver-seat. Just feeling the leather seating as he sank down into it, the soft sound of it creaking under his weight, was enough to make his breath catch in his throat. He couldn’t help himself from bending down and hastily unknotting his boots, not wanting to track dirt inside of the car because it was too clean, too perfect. Luxury seats, smooth plastic and leather gear stick column and dashboard, meter screens mounted behind the forward wheel, everything else placed neatly on his right to avoid clutter. Jimin climbed inside and watched him shifting to shove his boots out of sight behind the seat with a wide smile.

 

“Are you going to take everything off?”

 

“It would be a sin to get dirt on the leather,” Yoongi retorted.

 

“Sins can be pretty fun,” Jimin retorted as he slammed his door shut and shifted. “Should I remove mine too?” He ignored him and instead ran his eyes over the dash and out of his periphery he saw him bending forward and copying his actions. “It’s like you’ve never seen a car before…”

 

Yoongi told him that it was hard to find a car of this quality and then he reached over to touch the gear stick. It was a slightly curved stick with a leather coating and he ran his fingers along it slowly, stroking it. Jimin kicked his own shoes out of sight under the dash and then shifted to watch him do this.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that loves cars so much.”

 

“It’s more of an…obsession,” Yoongi corrected, all the while thinking in his head that ‘fetish’ was a more fitting term to describe it.

 

Some people liked silken underwear and high heels and smudged lipstick, Yoongi liked cars. The more extravagant the car the better, the more plush the leather seats were and how the curves of the body felt under his palms the more excited he got. He had often pondered on the fact that this was a strange thing but it didn’t seem like Jimin cared at all. The other man had asked him to fuck him over his motorbike after all, so he must have known that engines and chrome and leather made his blood start pumping. Maybe Jimin liked it too but he had a feeling that Jimin’s kinks were much more different than that. Right now, sitting in his driver-seat and holding the steering wheel in his hands he could feel himself getting aroused and for once he wasn’t awkwardly trying to hide it and feeling something close to shame. Jimin would understand, he just knew that he would. 

 

Down below he heard another one of those loud bullhorn blares and he lifted his gaze up to see that Seokjin’s Jaguar XKR Convertible starting to roll off the lot in the direction of the tracks. It was enough to get the crowd up and pumping and it felt weird sitting up on the bluff and watching it all down below. He couldn’t feel the vibrations of the air as the vehicles blurred past and breathe in the exhaust fumes, he could only see the dust clouds the spinning wheels threw up and watch the floodlights shine on the clean bodies. But that didn’t matter right now, he had something better than that; he was sitting in a fucking Gallardo and he had his hands on the wheel and Jimin had promised to let him drive the thing.

 

“Here comes The Prince,” Jimin remarked as he shifted to get comfortable in his seat, bringing his legs up so that he could place his folded up elbows on them. “He’s very handsome but don’t you think he looks a little boring?” He had never said a word to Seokjin but he had gotten pretty close to describing him well. It wasn’t that he was boring it was just that he never said much that Yoongi actually wanted to hear. “Those women are all screaming for him but he seems like he would be pretty dull in the sheets.”

 

Yoongi spared a glance over at him to see a smirk on his face.

 

“You can tell that by looking at someone?”

 

Jimin shrugged and his vest sleeve slipping on one side to show a curved hint of shoulder that went all the way up to his neck. It was a strange talent and he wondered what he thought when he looked at him. Almost as if he sensed his thoughts the man slid his gaze over to hold his.

 

“You’re a shouter.” Yoongi felt a delicious heat starting to coil in his loins at this. “I bet that when you get going you just lose control.” He dragged his eyes back to the front window and heard Jimin laughing softly under his breath. “I bet that you also get off on the idea of being fucked but you’ve never done it that way before. It’s just a fantasy for you.” He paused for adding. “What do you think when you look at me?”

 

Yoongi managed to tell him that he wasn’t good at reading people.

 

“Doesn’t matter, what do you think?”

 

“…I bet you’ve only ever been fucked,” he said after a moment of thought, hands tightening their grip on the wheel. “And that you fantasize about finally having your chance to fuck someone instead.” He felt a strange surge of bravado and before he could stop himself he blurted out. “Good thing you met me.”

 

“Very good thing.”

 

Yoongi watched Namjoon’s Chevrolet Chevelle also rolling out of the lot in the direction of the tracks and that meant that the flirting was coming. He wondered if what was happening between them could be constituted as flirting before realising that it didn’t even come close. This wasn’t slow rolls around and front bumpers grazing too close, this was hard and fast teasing and it would result in a race and a half. He watched the pair of vehicles lazily drifting and then he turned in his seat to try and take the keys out of his hand.

 

“Ah, hang on,” Jimin pulled his hand away fast, moving the keys out of his reach. “We haven’t finished watching yet. It’s still the first race.”

 

“It’s all the same,” Yoongi argued, “I bet that Jin will win, it’s not even a contest.”

 

“Which one’s Jin?”

 

“White Jaguar XKR,” he explained, seeing Jimin looking over at the cars to figure it out. “The Prince.”

 

“How do you know? Is it rigged?”

 

“No, but he can hit 250 and The Shark only goes 180 after I replaced the engine. There’ll be a three or four second finish gap, mark my words.” Yoongi still had his hand out to him and he was practically shaking it impatiently. Yet Jimin still kept the keys out of his reach. “C’mon, it’s not fun watching when you know who’s gonna win, let me just-”

 

“No,” Jimin said suddenly, talking over him. “I’ve got an idea.” He gnawed on his inner lip and stared at him before asking him what he had in mind. “Let’s make a bet, you and me.”

 

Yoongi shifted in his seat to look at him, leather creaking and making him feel a shiver go down his spine at the sound.

 

“I bet The Shark will win, you bet The Prince will win.” He nodded in agreement at Jimin's words and once again felt his hand moving to grip hold of the gear stick. “Then let’s make a wager. You win and…you can drive this baby as long as you want.”

 

Yoongi was wriggling in his seat now, hand wrapped around the gear stick and the other pathetically palming at his erection through his jeans. He knew that Jimin could see that he was doing it and yet he didn’t care at all. He almost hoped that he liked what he saw.

 

“I win and…” A long drawn out pause that seemed to last forever. “I can fuck you in the backseat.”

 

Yoongi moaned and pressed down hard with his palm, feeling a throb in his stomach in response. Oh, Jimin knew exactly what to say to get a reaction. Fucking in the backseat of a car? In the backseat of a Gallardo? That wasn’t losing a bet that was winning. The man raised an eyebrow at him, smooth and languid, and he managed to nod in agreement.

 

“Then let’s watch it and see,” Jimin said as he turned back to the front window, folding his legs down so that he could look out more clearly.

 

Yoongi watched him wriggle in the seat and the leather noises were enough to make him want to whimper. If he lost this bet then he would get to hear that sound over and over, feel the car lightly rocking as the leather pressed against his bare skin. He was almost hoping that he lost now. The flirting down below seemed to last so long that he felt like he was being tortured, forcing himself to move his hand away and instead grab hold of the steering wheel. When they finally rolled up to the starting line he could have cried in relief. The race wouldn’t even take a minute and yet he thought that the bare seconds it lasted for would be too much for him to handle.

 

Down on the track the lights switched to green and there was a screech as the engines kicked in and the wheels left black scorch marks in their wake in the dust. Jimin jumped in surprise and then he was leaning forward to watch eagerly, arms on the dashboard and ass floating above the seat. He saw great interest on his face and then the cars were flying down the track at the speed of the wind, fumes and dust tornadoes in their wake. Yoongi watched them and felt something that he hadn’t felt in a long time since watching his crew race. He felt excitement, he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight down in the quarry and he saw it all coming before it happened. Seokjin’s first lap was slightly messy and he could see that he was starting to lose balance on the curves, a mistake that he often made against him that allowed him to win the race easily. He was going near 200 and yet with the lack of control he might as well been going 180, the same speed that Namjoon was catching up at. The few seconds that he had managed to gain at the start as his engine kicked into power quicker were starting to get shaved down on and then he turned a corner way too slow and careened way off course.

 

In the seat beside him Jimin let out a moan and the sound made his skin tingle.

 

Seokjin’s vehicle skittered off the makeshift track and went right into the dusty expanse around it, wheels digging in and throwing up thick clouds of grit and dirt that landed on the body and dulled the bright sheen of polish under the floodlights. Namjoon’s car zoomed past as he struggled to recover his curve and get smooth again. Three seconds ahead turned into three seconds behind and then he was back on the tracks but it was too late, he would need to increase speed to catch up and Seokjin would never take the risk for fear of him losing control again and crashing right into a blockade. Yoongi watched it all with wide eyes and didn’t take a single breath until he saw the black and white Chevrolet Chevelle flying over the finish line to the roar of the crowd that nearly made the windows rattle in their frames. Jimin let out a giggle and he looked over at him to see him kissing the keys in his hand. The sight of his lips pressing against the cold metal was more erotic than the lollipop ever could have been.

 

“You got beat so bad that I feel bad for you,” Jimin said as he ran his thumb along the lock pad delicately. “So let’s go for a little ride first, get out of here and find somewhere less…distracting.”

 

The keys were in his hand and he holding them out to him across the gear stick panel and letting him take them in his own hand. Yoongi felt strangely numb all over except for the heat in the pit of his stomach and the other man dropped the keys in his palm, the metal clinking together. He shifted and slipped them into the ignition and then he was twisting them. The engine came to life with a purr and he closed his eyes and let his breath out in a ragged sigh. Of course Jimin had a car that was as beautiful inside and out as he was physically. He hadn’t heard an engine so smooth in so long from working the track that he had started to get used to the slightly rough quality but now…now he had the Gallardo purring for him and he backed out of the spot he was parked in and twisted to get onto the road in one quick twist of the wheel.

 

The staccato of voices and vehicles down below faded away as he started driving down the road, once again with no destination in mind and just knowing that they would end up parked somewhere and minus clothing not very long from now. As luck would have it he managed to cruise along the main road and several smaller ones before ending up on the highway that went over Han River, a long straight stretch that went for quite some time without a single curve in it.

 

“What is it about racing that makes you so happy?” Jimin asked suddenly as he shifted in his seat to bring both legs up, sitting sideways to look at him fully with his back against the door.

 

He didn’t reply for a moment as he let the car pick up speed and watch the meter increase, changing gears with a thrust of his right wrist.

 

“The danger,” Yoongi finally explained. “I like the danger of being so close to…to death but then drifting past it. I can’t explain it the…the sound of people gasping and then exploding when I twist the wheel and soar along the track. It’s-”

 

“Orgasmic,” Jimin finished for him, voice soft. He laughed and told him that orgasms didn’t even come close. “Not the ones you’ve felt so far, but I bet that I could get close. I bet that I could make you feel something stronger.”

 

“The leather,” Yoongi said as he settled back in the seat and heard it creaking. “Metal, chrome of all those things too. It’s not just the crowd, it’s the vehicle.” He looked out of the window to see the road in front of them, barely any traffic on it beyond the distant red back lights of a truck. “Cars turn me on, that’s pretty fucked up right?”

 

Jimin let the car fell silent for a few seconds before laughing. Yoongi spared a glance over at him to see that he had covered his mouth with one hand, eyes wrinkled over it as he laughed. Then he told him that he had seen things a lot more fucked up than that and that he thought it was relatively normal. Yoongi had seen the vast expanses of car-based pornography all before, always women spread open on car hoods playing with themselves, stroking clitorises and pinching nipples on cherry red vintage cars with hair fanned out over the glossy paint jobs. Yoongi had yet to find any images of men being held down against cars, fucked raw as hips slammed into bumpers, hands gripping onto spoilers for dear life. Jimin had probably seen them all if he didn’t find it fucked up because he was pretty certain that the rest of his crew would find it weird. They might have joked about his obsession with cars but doubted they would find his fantasies normal. Not even Hoseok and Taehyung went further than blowjobs during races for a cheap kick. They had motel beds and luxury hotel suites instead, but not Yoongi. No, Yoongi didn’t need a designer suite with silk sheets and mints on the pillows, he just needed cold chrome and leather and that was luxury for him.

 

“If you knew the kind of things that turned me on then you would be…” Jimin paused and smirked at him.

 

Suddenly he wanted an entire list dictated to him. He wanted Jimin to look right into his eyes and tell him every filthy little thing whilst he gripped hold of the steering wheel in one hand and felt the engine rumbling through the seat. That curiosity was probably what made him ask him what he meant.

 

“I like being in control. Just like you do with the car.”

 

That didn’t sound fucked up at all but he knew what all of those words entailed without him having to say a single thing. Handcuffs, gags, paddles and so much more than that. Yoongi shifted gears and then he felt something moving along the back of his hand, Jimin placing his hand over his so that he could wrap his hand around the stick too.

 

“Do you need my permission?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Do I have to agree to any of this or…?” He felt Jimin’s gaze lifting from their hands to study the side of his face. “Do you prefer having control without asking?” He told him that he only liked consensual control and Yoongi shifted in his seat. “Like what?”

 

“Pull over and I’ll let you find out,” Jimin said in a quiet voice.

 

On the current freeway he couldn’t but soon enough there would be a road that he could take to get away from the main highway and kill the engine. Yoongi could feel himself getting a little too excited and his fingers were trembling around the steering wheel. Consensual control? Like those vivid mental images he had had just earlier? Of collars and light choking and so much more? It was enough to make him just know that he was going to cum into his jeans before Jimin even got them off and he wet his dry lips with a tongue that felt just as bad. He managed to get his hand free from the gear stick and then he was taking the wheel in both hands and turning off the highway onto a narrow road that looked to lead along in the direction of warehouses and old factories.

 

“Let me have my kicks and I’ll let you have yours too.”

 

Yoongi was already eyeing the thin alleyway entrance at the end of this block and he spared a quick glance over to see Jimin lower his head and then take the gear stick between his lips, tongue darting out to run along it. There was a shudder in the pit of his stomach so strong that he couldn’t help but moan and then he was wrenching the wheel and hitting the brakes to stop the car.

 

Jimin still simulating fellatio on the gear stick, hand tight around it as he ran his tongue along the metal top and made it slick with saliva. Yoongi didn’t even have enough time to attempt to open his jeans so he just stuck his hand under the waistband and seized hold of his erection. He was a mess, had already leaked in his underwear way back when he had twisted the keys and turned the engine on, and he leaned back in the driver-seat and jerked his wrist hard as he watched Jimin go down to the base of the stick and then bite down on the leather covering. He was playing with him, teasing him with nothing more than flashes of his tongue and teeth against the leather stick and that was enough to make him ejaculate with just several pumps of his fist. He had only just pulled his hand free when he felt Jimin’s hands seizing hold of him and then he was being roughly forced out of the seat and into the back.

 

Yoongi grabbed hold of the seat headrest and saw that he had left smears of cum on the cream leather and then he was slamming his back rather hard against the gear stick column. It took an awkward moment of fumbling and Jimin shoving at him and kneading at his thighs before he was sitting in the back and then the other man was climbing in the back too, the car rocking from their sudden movements.

 

“I’ll treat you good,” he said breathlessly as he shifted to straddle him. “I’ll treat you real good just trust me.” Yoongi couldn’t breathe very well but he told him that he trusted him. He had let him have his fun with the car so it was only fair that he let Jimin show him something that excited him too. “I won’t hurt you, I want to make you feel good.”

 

Jimin didn’t pull his vest off. Instead he reached up to grab the neckline and then he was bunching handfuls and pulling so hard that the fabric ripped with a strange sound, tendons rippling under his skin as he did. The fabric slipped down to his waist and he tore it free, the remains nothing more than rags. Yoongi watched this all as he carried on running his hand along his upper thigh, stroking at the man’s erection through the material of his jeans, and then Jimin grabbed hold of his wrist and wrenched it up hard. He didn't know what was happening but a moment later both of his arms were up above his head and he could feel Jimin knotting the vest remains around his wrists. Not tightly, he could still bend his fingers and feel leeway around the material, but enough so that he couldn’t budge them more than an inch. This sudden twist in events certainly surprised him but he would be lying if he said that it wasn’t exciting.

 

Jimin turned his attention back to his clothing and then he was slipping out of his trousers. No underwear again, it made perfect sense considering the tightness of his jeans. The car rocked slightly as he removed them and Yoongi was aware of the fact that this was the first time that he had seen him fully naked. They had fucked and yet he hadn’t seen his skin like this before, everything displayed so that he could take in the dimples of every muscles and his strong thighs.

 

Quite simply, Jimin had the body of a god: Adonis, and he was not even close. He would have felt self-conscious but he still had his tee on. The other man fumbled to pull down his open jeans and soaked underwear and he couldn’t help him, not with his arms stuck up over his head. His cock flopped free of the material to land on his stomach and he eyed it for a second before looking up at Jimin. Jimin looked at his aching cock like he was observing fine art, hands still working to pull down the last messy tangle of clothing. When he felt them being dragged down past his ankles Jimin reached over to seize hold of him.

 

“You know,” he said as he slowly pumped his wrist from his base to his head, lightly pressing down with his thumb and then rubbing his head in circular motions. “I always found driving cars boring. There’s so much more fun you can have in them.”

 

Yoongi loved cars for every reason but he had to admit that the sensation of the leather on his bare ass rather than his arms, and Jimin’s fingers bringing him back to full hardness, was a thing he had never really gotten to appreciate before. He watched Jimin tracing around his head, feeling the sensation cause little trembles that ran up into his stomach, and then he lowered his head and dragged his tongue along him before taking his head in his mouth. The hot wetness of his tongue was almost unreal and Jimin sucked on his head, pressing the flat of his tongue against his slit before teasing it with the tip.

 

Jimin was finally sucking on him rather than lollipops and gear sticks.

 

Yoongi had thought about what it would feel like to have him take him in his mouth and yet it had not been like this. His lips were so soft that he could barely believe it as they rubbed along his length, cheeks hollowing as he sucked and licked on him. He released him and a dribble of spittle trailed from his cock to his lips before breaking and drooling down his chin. Those blowjob lips of his, glossy and wet and opening wide as he took his head again and then nearly swallowed the length of his cock. Those little trembles turned into throbs and Jimin bobbed back on him a few times before going back to his head. He sucked on him and moaned so that he felt the vibrations echoing down his cock. Unsurprisingly it didn't take much of his before Yoongi was pitifully leaking into his mouth, so very unused to such attention that he couldn’t help himself, and Jimin released him and ran his tongue down to make sure that he caught every slight drop; cum smeared lips, a dribble coming out of the corner of his mouth that clashed against his glowing skin. His tongue darted out to try and catch it and then he grabbed his hips and shifted them on a strange angle. Yoongi felt his stomach muscles clenching and his cock still ached and demanded attention.

 

“Isn’t this so much more fun?” Jimin asked as he planted little kisses on his thigh and moved his face upwards.

 

Yoongi thought that he was just teasing him and that he would go back to his cock after this, quick kisses and words that he knew would get under his skin, but then the young man’s face inches closer and closer and he realised what he was going to do. Jimin angled his hips up so that he had his thighs spread like some cheap porn star actress, and then his tongue was running up until he felt it against his entrance and Yoongi gasped loudly. Was he really going to…to do this? Of all the thoughts that had crossed his mind Yoongi had not thought of something like this. It seemed obscene and a little bit depraved and yet his cock still twitched in excitement when the tip of his tongue traced around him. He was running his tongue around his entrance like one of those fucking lollipops and Yoongi fucking loved it. He gave a tortuous drag along him and then Jimin slipped it inside. It was a sensation that made him stutter noises aloud, little shocked gasps. His tongue, inside him, slipping and licking and curling before he pulled it free and added a finger to try and stretch him wider.

 

Yoongi moaned and turned his face so that he could press it against his upper arm and he could mute the sound. Jimin was coating him with saliva and thrusting two fingers inside, scissoring them even when he felt the urge to clench tightly; opening him up so that he could get his tongue in deeper.

 

“Juh-Jimin,” he stuttered weakly.

 

“You’re such a pretty flower,” Jimin said, breath hot against him as he carried on working him with his fingers. “I want to see you bloom for me.”

 

Oh, he was blooming alright, a quivering mess splayed out on the backseat of the Gallardo with his thighs as wide as he could possibly open them and his cock still leaking all over his stomach.

 

Wrists tied up against the overhead passenger handle, he could do nothing more than squirm when Jimin’s tongue curled up and rubbed against his prostate. After a few more licks Jimin was shifting and adding another finger, stretching him wider. He knew what was coming. He knew that Jimin was going to fuck him just like the bet and Yoongi started whimpering under his breath at the idea. The sounds must have excited Jimin for he felt him rubbing himself up against his leg, and then he was moving his hips forward. Yoongi watched him jerking himself off hard and fast, tip of his tongue darting out to lick at his lips as he did and he felt something spattering against his inner thigh before Jimin slipped his fingers free and pushed his head inside. It didn't feel that bad at first, the lubrication of his leaking cock helping him pull out and thrust back in again, but when he went deeper it was something else.

 

His tongue and his fingers could not have prepared him for it. When Jimin slid his length inside of him there was a burning deep down inside of him and Yoongi thought the most accurate word for it would be: tearing. He felt stretched so tight that he was certain that he would tear and yet the sensation…the sensation was fantastic. It could have been the burning, it could have been the press of the leather now hot against his bare lower body, but it was probably the look on Jimin’s face when he rocked into him.

 

“Don’t do that,” he said as he reached up with one hand to grab his hair, pulling slightly so that he didn’t have his face pressed against his arm. “Look at me, I want to… to see you bloom.”

 

Yoongi felt so very stupid looking him in the eyes considering the fact that he was several inches deep inside of him, yet the eye contact didn’t sour his excitement at all. If anything, he found himself getting a cheap thrill out of that too.

 

“So pretty,” Jimin said breathlessly as he tangled his fingers in his hair and reached down with his other hand to push his tee up under his neck, exposing all of his stomach and chest. Then he was sinking his fingers into the side of the seat and lowering his head. “I’m going to plant little fuh...flowers all over you.”

 

Along his chest, from his collarbones which his tongue dipped into and his lips sucked on the knobs of bone, up along to his near and then his chest, Jimin left open mouthed kisses all over his skin so that little red blotches stayed behind like lipstick smears. His hips rocked in a slow rhythm that was enough to drive him insane, he wanted more, he wanted him to go faster and maybe…maybe just rougher than this. When Jimin’s lips found his nipple and he started teasing with between his teeth it was enough to make him jerk his hips up and slam them against his own.

 

“You like that?” Jimin asked with a laugh, and Yoongi could only make guttural sounds in response. Then he circled his nipple with his mouth and his tongue whorled around it.

 

It was enough to make his very toes curl up and the throbbing at the base of his cock was so strong that he moaned. Yoongi felt his fingers rolling up so that his nails dug into the flesh of his palms. This was better than the first time, that rough and clumsy fuck over the back of his Kawasaki Ninja. Yoongi was being fucked in the backseat of a Lamborghini Gallardo with hot leather on his skin and his wrists tied up over his head; the stuff of his fucked up teenage wet dreams. He couldn’t stop himself from lifting his thighs and wrapping them around his waist, the heels of his feet pressing down against Jimin’s lower back to urge him on. The noises coming from Jimin’s mouth were disgusting, the wet suck of his lips and his tongue as he teased his left nipple and left it tingling and raw before he move onto the right. He just wanted him to fuck him and yet he was teasing him so badly that it was torture. He moaned his name and it made him roll his hips wonderfully down into him, the weight of them on top of his pressing down on his erection.

 

“What does baby want, huh?” Jimin asked breathlessly, hand still playing with his hair, fingers wrapping tightly.

 

Baby? Oh this was fucked up alright and yet he would let him call him a bitch, a whore, a cumslut at this current moment. Hell, Yoongi felt like that right now. He couldn’t think of anything better than having Jimin pound into him until he came hard enough to see stars and felt the sensation of cum on his stomach and spilling inside of him.

 

“I wuh-want-”

 

“No, baby wants.”

 

“Buh-baby wants,” Yoongi groaned, “it ruh-rough.”

 

“Rough?”

 

“Baby wuh-wants you to fuh…”

 

Yoongi couldn’t finish this train of thought because he could feel Jimin slipping back so that only his head was inside of him, and then he thrust forward hard and fast. He was being stretched again and then the other man’s hips started rocking so hard and fast that he cried out in mingled pleasure and pain. With his own hips on such an angle, thighs spread wide open for him, every thrust made Jimin slam right into his sensitive spot and his moans started to get louder and louder, amplified off the doors of the car.

 

“Does baby like…that?” Jimin grunted as his hips collided against his hard. Yoongi thought that there might just be bruises left behind as he let out a series of sounds that could have passed as yes. “How much does baby like that?”

 

“Yes, oh-” He couldn’t turn his face away and he just knew that Jimin could see him, could see how every thrust made his lips and brow twitch, made his eyes roll. It was too much, this was too much. His hands were shaking up over his head and his stomach muscles were burning as rocked his own hips up against him. “Yes, baby luh-likes this Jimuh-min.”

 

The man’s fingers moved down from his hair to cup his cheek, thumb pressing into his skin as the head of his cock pounded against his prostate until he felt an explosion in the pit of his stomach. Yoongi threw his head back and felt it smack against the window as his thighs quivered with enough force to make him kick his legs out, knee connecting with the driver-seat of the car. He came with such a force that he wasn’t at all surprised to feel the liquid splash of semen hitting his chest and chin.

 

This wasn’t an orgasm, this was something close to death. This was the rush that he felt drifting so close to the edge of the track, the crashing that he missed by just inches as his breath bottled up in his lungs and his hands tightened on the wheel of the car. This was exactly what Jimin had promised him, getting close to the edge and then pushing him right off it until he felt like he was going to die. There was no snapping seatbelt and screeching tires, just the tight torn vest around his wrists as he tried to move but couldn’t and cries of pleasure escaping his lips as he rocked from every single thrust and waited for that moment to stop just like the car. But it didn’t. Jimin was still rolling his hips hard into him and he felt his climax getting stronger and stronger as his limbs got weaker. Could he cum again? Was that even possible? He didn’t even know but he did know that he couldn’t breathe and his skin was sticking to the cream leather, tacky with sweat.

 

Drifting in the car lasted just a mere second, this was going on and on and he could feel himself tightening around his cock again; the friction enough to leave him gasping and shuddering.

 

“You’re blooming,” Jimin said as he caressed the back of his hand against his cheek. “Those little flowers uh-are blooming.”

 

His thumb went near his lips and Yoongi felt the greatest urge to dart his tongue out and lick him. The other man was breathing heavy and it seemed that he was finally going to give into his own pleasure. Did he have enough time to try and chase after a second orgasm? When Jimin grabbed his hips and lifted him, pressed right up against the car door so that the wooden armrest dug into his back and each thrust made him slam his back against it he discovered that he could indeed. The car was rocking so hard that he could hear the axles creaking as it moved side to side. There was another explosion in his loins that spread upwards and outwards, made him cry out and pathetically grind his hips against him as he dry orgasmed. Yoongi buried his face against Jimin’s neck and then he was rocking lighter and letting out his own moans of pleasure against his shoulder. When Jimin came he did so by biting down on his skin firmly whilst he kneaded at his buttocks.

 

For a few seconds he stayed inside of him, Yoongi tightening once more around his still hard cock, and then he pulled out with a breathy groan. Yoongi felt his entrance quivering and then the sensation of cum leaking out and onto the cream seats, which he eyed with a great interest whilst Jimin unknotted his vest remains and freed him from the handle. His arms dropped down and they felt numb and rubbery.

 

“Good baby,” the other man said as he lowered his head and proceeded to lick the smeared remains of cum off his stomach and chest. “Very good baby. Didn’t I tell you that I would treat you good?”

 

“Yuh…yeah,” Yoongi groaned as he felt the cold window against his neck and closed his eyes.

 

Jimin cleaned his stomach and then he reached up and patted his head. The contact made him open his eyes in surprise, the gentle patting of the head whilst Jimin smiled at him widely. As if he hadn’t sucked on his cock, then ate him out and fucked him raw enough to experience his very first double orgasm. He wanted to be surprised by this, shocked even, but he just let Jimin pat him as if he was a puppy or a child and found that the weight of his hand caused a strange sensation. His chest felt all warm and tight, his heart doing something close to a flutter. Yoongi had never felt anything close to this before, something that could be described as sweet. All it had taken was being fucked in Jimin's Lamborghini Gallardo with his wrists tied up to cause it. He really didn’t know what that meant but he did know one thing: he wanted to feel it over and over if he could.

 

 

 

 

 

He pulled the bandanna up over his face to block his nose and mouth, the material taut over the bridge of his nose and knotted at the back of his hairline. He put the buffer down and moved to grab hold of the spray paint tool. The wire stretched across the mechanic floor and risked tripping someone up if they were to enter but he was currently alone in the quarry so there was no need to worry about that. For once it was strange hearing nothing but silence when he turned his tools off and yet he rather enjoyed the sensation. No blaring hip hop or rock music blaring from the docking system across the brick building, no sound of Taehyung and Hoseok hollering shit at each other from across the area, the former’s laugh so loud that he nearly made rockfalls thunder down from the bluff and the latter’s voice reaching such a volume that it was as if he was using a megaphone. Yet he wasn’t, Hoseok just had a set of lungs on him that could near rival a turbocharger V6 engine if he wanted to.

 

Yoongi had no clue where they actually were because he had woken up in the backseat of his Nissan S14 to find the place empty for once. No races on the track at all, he wasn’t surprised that they had all went off and found better things to do than hang around like him. But Yoongi lived and breathed and fucking slept in a car so he didn’t care if his only company had metal bodies and only spoke to him when he twisted keys in the ignition. In the past Yoongi had often thought that he could deal with such company and not need anymore but then he had met Jimin and suddenly the thoughts seemed pretty stupid to him.

 

No matter how fantastic cars were they couldn’t do the things that Jimin did to him, could only stir the excitement in the pit of his stomach that the other man took to a whole new level. Chrome and leather and engine blocks could give him thrills but they didn’t have fingers and tongues and teeth; couldn’t enter him and made those powerful explosions fill him and make his fingers and toes curl up tight. No, only Jimin could do that for him.

 

Yoongi shifted on the skateboard and felt a slight twinge of pain. He wasn’t surprised at all, for he was certain that he would be bruised as a result of the Gallardo sex incident. If he was not bruised than he would be greatly surprised, for he had felt that stretching and then the burning friction, the slam of Jimin’s hips against him. Yet the discomfort wasn’t that bad and he found that he rather liked the feeling. He supposed that some people might feel the same about love bites on their throats, that people could see and just know that they had had the press of another person’s mouth on their flesh. Yoongi had them too, all over his chest and ribs but the tenderness of his upper thighs and ass whenever he sat down on something that wasn’t plush leather was something else entirely.

 

Jimin had left little flowers all over his skin and he had allowed them to bloom inside of him too.

 

The paint was already inside of the tool, having been prepared in advance so that he wouldn’t have to fumble with the annoying machine. He hated using it because the pump had a habit of getting blocked and spraying thick blobs of paint rather than a fine mist just to irritate him and make a simple job harder. But he couldn’t fix up the countless dents in Taehyung’s rides without doing this, without using a blowtorch to cut the metal away and then melding it back on as good as new. He was beginning to think that he should stop fixing up the fucking Mazda RX7 just to see what the young driver did but he knew that it wouldn’t work. Taehyung would see a couple of scratches and then T-bone it into a blockade just so that he could get a new car…then he would fuck that one up a week later. So that meant fixing it up and sating him in the hopes that he wouldn’t find an excuse to blow a couple of million more won.

 

Yoongi sighed into the material and then ran his hand along the spot to make sure that it was smooth. He ran the palm of his glove over the spot and found that it was so he shifted again, feeling another twinge of pain, and held the paint tool up. Then he depressed the nozzle and there was a loud hiss as the paint came out and spattered against the metal, colouring the gunmetal in a thin layer of red that got darker and darker with each subsequent passing of the nozzle. Through the bandanna he smelt the thick scent of paint and it made him feel a lightheaded. He lifted his finger off the switch and leaned back to examine the job. He found that the layers looked even and smooth so he lowered the tool and watched a few drops of the red paint drip down to land on the concrete by his boots.

 

Yoongi eyed these and thought about Jimin, of puddles of cum spreading on the cream leather from between his thighs.

 

He counted to a hundred in head and watched the paint starting to settle onto the area, starting to darker shade to match. He didn’t think that he needed another coat for it looked fine to his eyes so he reached up and pulled down on the bandanna and take a deep breath of air. He nearly tasted the paint on his tongue and he grimaced as he put the tool down and removed the work gloves. Hands finally free from their annoying thickness he bent them and felt great enjoyment from the fact his hands no longer felt like they were trapped in cement. He shifted back to rest on his wrists and the position let him relax his stomach muscles. He was eyeing the patch of paint when he saw something moving across the mechanics and he turned his head just in time to see Jungkook stepping into the open entrance and then pausing to look at him.

 

“Ah, it’s the ghost of the quarry,” Jungkook said in a flat tone as he opened his eyes wide. Then he was grinning at him as dropping his gaze to the variety of tools on the floor. “A day off and you’re fixing up Tae’s fuck ups.”

 

“Aren’t I always?” Yoongi asked as he cocked his head back and then rolled it to loosen up the stiff muscle. Everywhere felt stiff right now, muscles tight and bruised but also feeling pretty fantastic in his opinion. “What’re you doing here huh kid?”

 

“Dunno,” the boy replied with a shrug. “I was bored but the others are busy I think? Tae won’t pick up, got a feeling he’s with Hobie like always and I’ll never get an answer out of him if he is. I think Seokjin’s probably shopping and being followed by legions of adoring women and recruitment people for modelling agencies, and Joonie… I dunno.” Namjoon was probably in college, where he had been enrolled part-time for near a year now yet no one else even seemed aware of it. “So I thought I’d come to the quarry.”

 

“…I know why you’re here.”

 

“Huh?” Jungkook looked up from the tools on the floor sharply, eyes widening this time not in mock horror but actual surprise.

 

Within a second or two his cheeks were a deep pink. Yoongi reiterated that he knew why he was in the quarry and the boy shoved his hands in his green bomber jacket pockets and rocked back on his heels in a fidgeting way.

 

“You were gonna try and sneak in one of the cars and take it for a ride down the track, weren’t you?” At this Jungkook’s expression shifted, the corners of his lips dropping and then lifting in a wide grin. Then he let out a flustered laugh and pulled a hand free to rub at the back of his neck. “You thought I was asleep and you could jump in Seokjin’s ride and take angel for a spin, right?”

 

“You got me,” Jungkook replied as he rolled his eyes. There was something sheepish on his face that Yoongi couldn’t quite figure out. He moved to walk around the back and then hunkered down beside him, checking out the paint job. “Will look good as new when it’s dry, like always.”

 

The boy folded his elbows on his knee and the mechanic building fell silent for a moment before Yoongi broke the silence.

 

“If I let you drive you have to-”

 

“What? Really, holy shit-”

 

“you have to promise,” he continued over him, “that you will do exactly what I say and stop when I tell you to. Alright?”

 

The enthusiastic nod he got in response was a better answer than any words.

 

Yoongi had never given a lesson before. Despite working this circuit for a few years the only things that he had shown crew members were all related to fixing; how to replace a tire, how to replace a broken valve and stop a leak, how to reattach broken bumpers. Yet sitting in the passenger-seat beside the boy rather than behind the wheel for once, he felt oddly comfortable with it all. He explained about gear stick changes and speed control as he demonstrated, hand on top of his moving from each gear whilst the engine remained dead so he could understand its purpose. Yoongi managed to not think about Jimin whilst he did. He showed him the best positions for his hands to be on the wheel and explained about not putting too much pressure down on the pedal. Jungkook listened to it all intently, studying his face and nodding and making noises under his breath to let him know that he got it: uh-huh and hmmm.

 

After a twenty minute still tutorial he decided that it was best to walk him through a little test drive so he handed him the keys. Seeing Jungkook eye them fervently, like an ancient relic, made a strange surge of pride in his chest. Then the boy was slipping them into the ignition and twisting, disabling the handbrake without being told about it, and he shot him a look before bringing his foot down on the pedal. Jungkook guided the car around the lot at a cautious speed but one that showed that he could handle his car pretty smoothly. When he suggested that he try a loose lap around the track the boy managed to turn and get onto the tracks without any difficulty, he just seemed to get a little confused about gears but that was to be expected. It would take a few weeks of experience to fully get to grips with them and he thought that he did very well for his first known attempt.

 

Upon going back into the mechanics he found the paint basically dry, all one even shade that matched the rest perfectly. Jungkook asked him what came next and when he said a nap the boy burst out laughing. Clearly he wasn’t aware of the fact that he had spent five hours of constant work on the car and a nap sounded like a heavenly way to sleep away the early afternoon heat. But the boy persisted, going over to the stove area and preparing enough instant ramyun to fill a pot nearly the size of a carburetor. Despite looking at it and thinking that they would never eat it all Yoongi discovered that he was wrong for the first few mouthfuls made a rumbling sensation in the hollow under his ribs to remind him he hadn't eaten in hours. He was starting to get a lot more physical now, it was no wonder he had an appetite.

 

“Where you going for the night kid?” Yoongi asked as he stirred the metal chopsticks around the stock remains in his bowl. Jungkook looked up from his food, in the process of shoveling noodles in his mouth, so he bit down on the mess and cheeked a mouthful before replying that he didn’t know. “Not crashing with someone?”

 

“Usually crash with Jin,” he explained. “But never on days off ‘cos I feel…I dunno, like I just feel like I shouldn’t be clinging onto him like that.” Jungkook prodded at his noodles. “He’s not a babysitter, I shouldn’t be dependent on him but it’s my own fault for dropping out I guess?”

 

“Why don’t you stay here?” Yoongi asked as he let go off his chopsticks and placed the bowl down on the floor in front of him. The boy looked at him blankly. “There’s a building. Got a bench. Could bring a sleeping roll and sleep here in the summer no problem. Winter…well winter’s harder but I’ve got a car. Practically a bed if you push the seat back and have a blanket.”

 

“You would let me sleep in the S14?” Jungkook asked in surprise, noodles dangling from his chopsticks and dropping stock into the bowl with loud dripping noises. When he confirmed that he would the boy laughed excitedly and then grinned at him. “First you let me drive, then I’m sleeping inside it. What next, I own it?”

 

“In your dreams kid,” Yoongi retorted, watching the boy happily continue eating.

 

As he slurped a particularly long noodle up a dribble of stock rolled down from the corner of his mouth and so he reached over and rubbed it free for him. Jungkook didn’t even blink and just carried on chewing with that smile on his face, and Yoongi thought about Jimin’s tongue darting out to lick his cum before it dribbled down his face; of him licking his stomach clean and calling him a good baby. When he pulled his hand back he wasn’t at all surprised to find that it was shaking slightly. There must have been something on his face because the boy raised his eyebrows at him, mouth too full to ask if he was okay. Yoongi just turned back to his bowl and eyed the golden brown stock without saying a word.

 

That night, not a single race on the track, Yoongi found himself bored to death. He felt cold and empty sitting in the quarry, floodlights bleaching the interior and throwing nothing more than shadows across the dusty ground. Jungkook was inside the mechanics playing games on his phone, occasionally letting out a frustrated noise or an excited giggle when he did something right. No Jimin in sight, not even the hints of his Lamborghini Gallardo on the bluff. Yoongi just sat with his back against the outer wall of the mechanics and tried to think of something other than the man.

 

What would he be doing? Where was he right now? It wasn't just about the fucking, Yoongi simply wanted to know about him. They hadn’t really had a full conversation that hadn’t ended in uncontrollable sex. He felt like Jimin knew a little more about him than he did about him, knew about his interests and kinks. Yoongi had a name and a vague idea of what he did, and he wanted more than that. Even if finding out meant being pounded down into the backseat of the Gallardo again he would be more than happy; that would have two benefits. 

 

Lying in the backseat of his Nissan S14 with Jungkook curled up in the passenger-seat, bomber jacket serving as a blanket and the seat far back enough to nearly be on his lower legs, Yoongi found frantically palming at his erection through his jeans sheer torture. Not wanting to wake the boy up by making too much noise he ended up shoving his bandanna into his mouth even when he could taste grease against his tongue just so that he could free himself of his jeans. Jimin had done this to him, had made him unable to stop thinking about him over the past three days. Yoongi didn’t even tease himself, he just made a tight fist around his head and stroked himself with the other, thrusting against his fist and pretending that it was Jimin’s lips until he came messily all over his stomach with his teeth biting down into the bandanna. He had to resort to cleaning himself up without the other man's assistance, licking the substance off his fingers and imagining the pats on the head that he would get. Jungkook didn’t even stir in his sleep, lips pouted softly and breathing light as his chest swelled and fell under his jacket blanket.

 

When Taehyung hit the track the next morning he made sure to do so by making as much noise as possible, bounding down the slope so that he could get over to the Nissan S14 and annoyingly call through the open front window, waking them both with a start. Yoongi slammed his knees into the headrest of the passenger-seat and Jungkook nearly cricked his neck from the sudden and shocking impact. The boy rubbed at the back of his neck with a groan and Taehyung just harassed them both until he caved and unlocked the door to let him in. The youngest driver dived into the driver-seat and looked between them both with a wide grin.

 

“What’s going on here?” Taehyung asked as he wriggled his brows.

 

Yoongi shifted to get upright, rubbing at his eyes roughly. There was a strange taste in his mouth and he was faintly aware of what it was. Jungkook tried to explain the events of yesterday between loud yawns, not even attempting to cover his mouth as he did. Taehyung made a noise at this before stating that he didn’t know Yoongi was cute. Yoongi didn’t even respond to this and just climbed out of the back in the aims of getting cleaned up. Upon exiting the bathroom he saw Taehyung examining his Mazda RX7, hunkered down low with his ass sticking up in the air. He moved over and bent down to pull the tape off the chrome bumper guard, the paint now dry and in no danger of running.

 

“Stop fucking around and start trying to drive properly,” Yoongi muttered as he scrunched the tape up and tossed it across the mechanics.

 

“Ouch, that was harsh,” Taehyung said as he ran his hand over the now dent-free bumper. “Just wanted to check on everyone, just curious.” His friend got back upright with a heavy sigh and then stretched his arms above his head with a little grunt. His tee lifted to showcase a few inches of his stomach, tanned and slightly toned with a massive bruise just to the side of his navel. It was shaped exactly like a ring of teeth. “You can’t blame me for wanting to know. Kookie’s never sleeping in the quarry.”

 

Taehyung had a good point but Yoongi wasn’t going to let it slide just yet.

 

“I’m surprised you’re even here, haven’t you got a porn star to be hanging around with?” He bit his tongue rather than respond to this and Taehyung beamed at him. “Yoongz is finally having some fun. It’s nice. You’re so stiff sometimes it’s like you’ve got an exhaust pipe shoved up your ass.” Yoongi thought about how pleasant that might just be and had to gnaw on his lip to stop a snort escaping. “You think he’ll show up tonight?”

 

“There’s a race,” he replied with a soft shrug. “Maybe.”

 

Yoongi hoped that his expression didn’t show how hopeful he was that Jimin would show up. He was almost shaking with anticipation at the thought.

 

The afternoon hours seemed to drag to the point of painful. Yoongi stayed in the shade of the mechanics and watched Taehyung rolling a busted tire around the track in boredom until he was panting for breath and sweating in the humid heat. Somehow he managed to talk Jungkook into assisting him and at some point it escalated to Taehyung squeezing himself inside the rubber ring and him pushing him across the course. Watching him rolling past laughing like a madman was enough to make Yoongi smile and also briefly wonder if the heat had baked his brain. Not long after a completed three lap race Hoseok showed up and the air perked up considerably. Yet Yoongi had no repairs to make and so he just distracted himself by cannibalising auto parts and building a spare engine block that they currently didn't need. It gave him something to do with his hands rather than just sit there, and over the slow hours the chunk of metal in front of him started to resemble something usable.

 

By the time the sun had set the entire crew was present, Namjoon cleaning the vehicles down across the lot to make sure they were gleaming for the show, Seokjin dragging crates of booze over to Jungkook's booth in preparation for the hundreds of downed shots. When the sky started to turn black and the sound of cars starting to enter the lot filled the air Yoongi started to feel nervous. It was pre-show and pre-Jimin feelings all rolled into a hard little ball in his stomach and he hated and loved the sensation.

 

“You’re on last,” Namjoon announced as the seating started filling up. “Finish the show with a bang. The Prince and Shadow, after his loss the other night bets are gonna be wild tonight.”

 

“Win or fold?”

 

“Win,” he explained as he folded his arms over his chest, leather jacket rustling as he did. “Like I could get you to fold, even if I want to rig it you’ll fuck it up. Right?” Yoongi made a noise in agreement. “Besides, you’ve got someone to flirt with.”

 

“What’d you mean?”

 

“Your little sweetheart in the crowd,” Namjoon explained before lifting an arm and pointing across the bluff. “I bet he’ll show up and park there again, maybe come down and make pretty faces at you until you run off together. Cute.”

 

Yoongi thought if he knew what happened when they ran off together he would take that remark back.

 

“Anyway, got a big night to prepare for,” his friend said as he popped his ride door open and checked the gas. Satisfied by the fact it was full he shifted and sat in the seat, sideways so that he could look at him. “Try to not let him get on your mind and distract you.”

 

Easier said than done.

 

The first three races went exactly like he had expected. Namjoon losing to Hoseok by a five second margin, Seokjin once again beating Taehyung but this time only slightly, and then Hoseok and Taehyung going head to head in a race that saw the younger driver leaning out of the window during the flirting process to blow kisses at the Bugatti Veyron, nearly rear ending his boyfriend’s car as he did. Jimin didn’t show his face but he knew that he was up on the bluff because he could feel him watching, could feel the unmistakable weight of his gaze burning into him. He had told him that he preferred to watch from above, without the crowd crushing against him, so he wasn’t surprised.

 

Climbing into his Nissan S14 and starting the engine felt strange after he had been in the Lamborghini Gallardo but he still felt that same old rush like always when he rolled off the lot and circled around Seokjin's vehicle. Just a few days ago this had been the only teasing that he had enjoyed, the flash of headlights off hoods and the lazy circular drifts and clouds of dust taking into the air. But now he had other teasing, better teasing. He had Jimin and his thumbs and tongue, with the slow rock of his hips and his breathy little moans against his skin. Yoongi wasn’t flirting with the other vehicle more peacocking down in the quarry for the other man up on the bluff. When he finally rolled onto the track to get to the starting line he found it hard to breathe and his hands weren't that steady on the wheel at all.

 

The blare of the horn sounded, the flashing light changed, and then he was flying. Flying down the track. The roar of the crowd and the engine working together in perfect harmony, a hymn to his blasphemous ears. Seokjin was right beside him on the track, nearly nose to nose as they hurtled down the track, horsepower increasing with every second. A glance at his speedometer showed that he was creeping on 180 yet he knew that his opponent had more power to work with. But power didn’t matter when there was curves to round. So Yoongi just prepared himself for the first rough turn and then he was back into it again, drifting and feeling the seatbelt digging into his ribs and making every inhale a gasp because the pressure was too much. Round and back onto the track, managing to slip ahead of Seokjin ever so slightly; the first lap was practically impossible to predict a winner from. During the second he gained another few inches and it seemed that he might just take the lead, but on the third lap things lost control.

 

Yoongi drifted around the third curve as smoothly as he could and Seokjin zoomed along the track faster than he had anticipated. The result made him swerve to avoid crashing into him and he felt a jarring thud to his side as the wing mirror collided with a blockade and was torn free and left hanging down. The sight of it was enough to make Yoongi’s hands tighten on the wheel so hard it hurt and he knew he had to beat him now, it wasn’t competition: it was war.

 

On the final curve Yoongi cut across him with such a hard twist that he felt his wheels leave the dirt track for a few seconds before slamming down hard. The impact made his teeth snap together and his brain nearly smacked against his skull. His head felt strange, ears ringing and vision faltering for a second and then it all came back to him; the screaming crowd and wheels, the stench of fumes almost choking him. His foot was pressing down so hard on the pedal that it was a miracle his foot didn't burst through the bottom of the car and then he was flying over the finish two seconds ahead of Seokjin. He pulled into the lot a shaking mess, heart racing so fast that he couldn’t breathe, a clammy sweat on his skin.

 

Yoongi needed something right now. He needed Jimin so badly that his chest hurt. Jimin could fix this, could control his shaking hands and could leave little kisses on his chest whilst his heart pounded against his rib cage hard enough to bruise.

 

So he killed the engine and stepped out on unsteady legs and when he looked across the quarry he saw him standing at the bottom of the slope. He was greeted with that same tinkling of the fingers and lopsided smirk that made his stomach jerk all of the way up to the back of his throat. He didn’t know how he did but he managed to cross the lot to get to him. With the chaos in the crowd, people still pumping fists and cheering, downing last shots and waving betting slips, he doubted that anyone even saw him snag hold of Jimin’s face and kiss him. The sudden and rough contact made Jimin laugh into his mouth and then he was pulling away to look at him.

 

“Let’s go for a ride,” he said as his hands reached up to hold his upper arms. “Back to my suite, just me and you and the whole night to waste.”

 

Driving the Gallardo for the second time Yoongi found that he could enjoy it more than the first. His initial excitement was still there, it had just been controlled last night with Jimin’s assistance. The car was perfect without a scratch or scrape whilst his remained back in the quarry lost with a near severed wing mirror. Jimin gave him directions as they rolled down the streets, along the Han River highway and then through blocks and districts until they into Gangnam-gu. Yoongi had never been in that district but he knew that it was the rich area of the capital. The buildings showed this, and before he knew it he was being dragged out of the car and into one that looked like a skyscraper to his eyes; a glasses and metal structure that brushed the very heavens. As he was pulled across the entrance area he asked the other man how he possibly afforded to live here and he was given a laugh in response.

 

“What?” Yoongi studied him as he pressed a button on an elevator, the sound of it descending to come down to them.

 

“It’s a long fucked up story.”

 

“Then tell me.” They both entered the carriage and the other man pressed the top button on the panel hard. “I want to know about you.”

 

“Well, I was going to be an idol at one point,” Jimin explained as the lift ascended, leaning back against the carriage and folding his arms over his chest. “I was a great dancer, always told that my singing needed a little work but whatever. I moved from company to company trying to find the right one and that’s when I found myself catching the eye of a CEO. Big CEO, major idol company so you can play a game and figure out which one. Anyway, I’m getting called into his office one day and he’s really friendly to me. Tells me that he saw my audition tape personally and that he thought that I was so talented. You see where this is going, right?”

 

Yoongi did but he remained silent and waited for him to continue.

 

““I need to see you dance in person Jimin,” is what he said to me. Let me see how badly you want it. So I did, I danced right there in the office. “No, no, more sexy, be more sexy Jimin…”” Jimin paused once more and he saw his eyes go distant as he stared at the glowing floor buttons on the panel. “I danced until I couldn’t breathe and I was dripping sweat and then I was being pinned down on a desk probably made from Amazonian wood and being fucked.”

 

The elevator fell silent, almost too silent for Yoongi’s liking because he heard the slight whistle of breath exiting Jimin’s lungs.

 

“I moved from business to business because I was passed along and recommended. All of those CEOs, they’re fucking monsters. I went into a company and had them all rubbing their hands and licking their lips until they pulled me out of rehearsals and got me alone in an office. Two years. That’s how long I let men fuck me and then kick me out of the company only for a buddy to come along and snap me back up. I was seventeen years old when one CEO decided that he liked me too much to kick me into the gutters. I was never going to be a star, not when everyone in the companies knew my face, but I could be something else. I could be his baby.”

 

Jimin lifted his head up to look at the overhead light.

 

“I started off with a decent-sized apartment room and weekly cheques being cashed for decent amounts of money. It was better than slaving away in rehearsal rooms and sleeping on the floor with ten other trainees huddled up around me, suffocating in a room packed with hot, tired and bruised bodies. I had money, you understand? I had money and I wasn’t living off one shit meal a day and having instructors beating me on the backs of the legs if I stumbled from exhaustion. So I stayed in my apartment room with its gadgets and my own bed and all I had to do was let him fuck me every few days. Sure, it wasn’t fun or exciting, but it was worth it. I didn’t experience an actual orgasm during it all but that didn’t matter. One day a year or so down the line he’s bringing another man with him and introducing the pair of us and I’m seeing this guy eyeing my body up like I’m on sale and it turned out that I was. That threesome could have paid for an entire course at college if I wanted to go, which I don’t. It just went into the bank with the rest of the cheques that I was earning from two men. For the past three years I’ve been fucking myself to riches that I don’t even spend. I don’t even know how much cash I have, I haven’t looked. Don’t need to look when you’ve got sugar daddies shoving cash down your throat whilst they slide their cocks up your ass.”

 

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to show him a small hallway area with a door at the end. Yoongi asked him how many he had, having noted how he had said plural rather than singular, and then Jimin explained that he had five. Yoongi snorted and told him that surely he was only supposed to have one. Jimin retorted that the men were only supposed to be with one person too but they weren’t, lips lifting in a wicked smile as he did and reaching down to grab his hand and pull him inside of the penthouse suite. He unlocked the door and then he was pushing the door open and gesturing for him to step inside and so Yoongi did so. His mouth dropped open at the sight in front of him.

 

He had never been in a penthouse suite before, hadn’t really seen photographs either. He wondered if this was the kind of rooms that Hoseok and Taehyung sometimes ended up in when they wanted to blow a lot of cash before pushing the thought away again. No way could they afford something like this.

 

The entire far wall was made from glass and the flooring was glossy light wood. The interior was packed with furniture and he could see a flight of stairs leading up to another floor, a soft spiral of white banister rail and steps. The ground floor was divided by semi-walls rather than full ones. To his right there was a kitchen area with black marble counters and a sleek appliances, a rounded dining table with a dozen or so seats at it even though there would be no need for so many. To his left was a small area filled with bookshelves and a long stretch of desk with a computer set up on it. The main area of the room however stretched all of the way over to the glass wall and it was two different suites placed across the area. One was cream, two settees and a chaise lounge around a glass topped tables, and the other was a coffee suite placed to be able to view the massive mounted TV screen built into the wall. It was a home cinema system and he even wondered if Jimin watched it before shifting to look up onto the second floor. There was an overhanging balcony on which he could see more tables with vases on them, filled with real flowers and more plush chairs. There would be a bedroom up there and he didn’t think that he could even imagine what it would look like. Then there was a noise from a few feet away and he looked down to see a cat looking up at him.

 

“Ah…we have a guest,” Yoongi said before laughing at the view by his feet. The cat was stunning, thin body but fur that was so thick and luxurious it reminded him of Jimin’s fur coat. “A pretty guest.”

 

“Gongju,” Jimin replied as he bent down to pick her up. Yoongi eyed the collar and wondered if the stones on it were real or fake before deciding that he didn’t want to know. “She’s a Chantilly, the supermodels of the cat world and she cost so much fucking money you wouldn’t believe.”

 

He thought, looking at the cat, that he very much could believe that people would pay ridiculous amounts of cash for it. The sleek black fur looked so perfect that it rippled like liquid in the overhead lights and emerald eyes blinked at him languidly. Yoongi jokingly asked if she was a birthday present as he lifted his hand and let the cat sniff at him. Satisfied that she wasn’t going to rip his skin off he scratched behind her ears and was blessed with a rumbling purr.

 

“No, a daddy just bought me her because he said that she looked like me. I get art and Gallardos for my birthday.”

 

“So the art on the walls is-”

 

“Real, yes,” Jimin smiled over the top of the cat’s head at him and he could only stare at him dumbly. “Bought from galleries. I have a bunch stored away like linen because there’s no room to hang them anywhere.”

 

A glance at the canvases showed lots of flowers and he wasn’t surprised, he had told him that he liked watching things bloom. Then he was placing the animal back down and she was trotting off across the room to jump up onto the cream chaise lounge and stretched her back in an arch. Yoongi studied the flawless furniture and then the floor before deciding that it was time that he removed his boots before he got dirt all over everything. It might not be as sacrilegious as leaving marks on the cream leather of the Gallardo but still… So he dropped to his knee and started unknotting the worn laces. Jimin watched him do so and he felt strangely self-conscious in a way that he couldn’t explain.

 

“You don’t want to make a mess?” Yoongi shook his head and then he laughed. “Oh baby, I want you to make a hell of a mess.”

 

He had only just gotten free of his boots and getting back upright when he saw the other man crossing the room and getting onto the first step. He leaned over the railing to look back at him, raising an eyebrow suggestively at him, so he followed him up the spiraling staircase onto the slight landing. He saw two doors one leading into a presumed bedroom and the other he didn’t have a clue but assumed to be a bathroom. Jimin took hold of his wrist and lead him past the furniture to the door on the left. There was an aquarium set into the wall and he saw colourful fish with delicate fins floating around inside it. Then he was pulling him into the bedroom and Yoongi eyed the inside with that same numb interest.

 

There was wooden flooring of a deep maple instead of the bleached ground floor, cream walls and a wall to the left which was also glass. He saw a walk-in closet and another door on the right that looked to lead into the en-suite bathroom. The bed was covered in soft coffee covers and there was a wooden frame around it, not exactly posters but something close. It made the bed look like it was in a frame and he saw a thick headboard. Just imaging the noise that it would make as it slammed against the wall was enough to make a warmth spread in the pit of his stomach. There was a long table with more flower vases and an open book on it, a few more corner tables here and there with lamps and pieces of porcelain on, it wasn’t cluttered and looked rather large and open; fresh air in comparison to the other floor with the gadgets and furniture all over it. Jimin let go of him and told him to make himself at home and so Yoongi stepped inside and crossed the room to go right to the closet for some reason that he didn’t even know.

 

It was filled with so many things that he could only stare at the large interior in dumb wonder. The room itself looked the size of the mechanics to his eyes and he saw clothing for all seasons nestled up on high poles set into either side, light jackets and tee, thick wool and fur coats, so many pairs of trousers that he couldn’t even believe it. Yoongi wore clothes until they fell apart, holes and tears and even burns in the material over the duration of time that he wore them. Yet Jimin had so many items inside that he didn’t think that it possible to wear them all. He must have had clothing for every single day, meaning that he would never have to wear something twice. And he hadn’t even dropped his eyes to study the shoes. Boots, sneakers, dress shoes of glossy leather; laces and buckles and studs. He turned to look over his shoulder at him, at Jimin still lounged on the bed on his stomach watching him with his head resting on his wrist. His shoes had been cast off at the bottom of the bed without a care even though they had likely cost a pretty penny, and he was running his free hand over the covers. He asked him why he had so many items of clothing and he smiled at him.

 

“They buy me clothes all of the time,” Jimin explained. “They come here with hands full of designer bags, clothing wrapped up in paper that I like to scrunch up in my hands and throw across the room as soon as they leave. I’ve not even worn most of it,” he lifted his free hand to study his nails and then sighed, “because it’s all hideous.”

 

“They buy you all of this shit too?”

 

“Collateral,” Jimin explained. “They want to make me pick them as my favourite but truthfully, I hate them all.” Yoongi eyed him in confusion and he laughed. “That’s how I’m doing this. Do you think that I could live easy if I had feelings for any of them?”

 

“…Good point.”

 

“They don’t want my feelings, they just want my body and someone to call them ‘daddy’ and choke on their cocks.” Jimin dropped his hand to the bed and then he shifted, folding his arms and cocking his head at him. “I’m their baby and they buy me gifts and pay for this suite room and every few days I let them fuck me. That’s my job, that’s how I have a Lamborghini Gallardo and a wardrobe filled with enough clothes to fill a store. What do you think about that?”

 

Yoongi glanced back into the closet and then he told him that he really didn’t think anything about it at all.

 

“You’re not…disgusted?”

 

“Disgusted?” He laughed and then reached out to run a hand along the clothing in front of him. “You’ve got five rich fuckers paying for you live in a penthouse suite with all of this shit and a Gallardo; I’m not disgusted I’m impressed.” A quick glance over at Jimin showed that he was staring at him with an expression that looked both shocked and also relieved. “You’re hustling, just like me and the rest of the crew. We make cash on illegal racing and betting, you make it from selling entertainment too.”

 

“You know…the clothes aren’t the only things that I’ve got,” the other man said as he got to his feet and crossed the room towards him. He stepped into the closet and he watched him playing with the sleeve of one of his fur coats, this one black and white and a little rougher than the white one. Jimin reached over to pull it free and then held it against his face as if checking the colour. “I never liked this I thought that it was hideous but you…you would look good in it. You would look fuckable in it.”

 

Yoongi felt the collar brushing against his cheek and he wondered what it would feel like on his bare skin as Jimin took hold of his hand and pulled him back out of the closet. The coat was draped onto the bed and then he was leading him across the bedroom towards a large dresser with several drawers set into it.

 

“Do you want to see my toys?”

 

Yoongi eyed the smirk on his face, lifted up on one side, and then he nodded and confirmed that he did. So Jimin pulled the first drawer open.

 

The dresser was filled with sex toys and pornographic magazines and underwear.

 

“This is what I like,” Jimin continued as he reached inside and moved a few objects around. Yoongi saw lace panties and crotchless silken ones, saw something that he thought was a vibrator, and then he was pulling things out and placing them on the top of the dresser. “I don’t really use these for my daddies because I don’t trust them to use them right, and I don’t think they like being dominated. They just prefer to push my face into the pillows and finish in ten seconds, the curse of old age.” He shoved a couple of magazines aside and then pulled something out and studied it. “But I’ve got a feeling that you do…”

 

Jimin placed the object down and he saw that it looked like a ring of some kind. Yoongi studied the things that he had placed on the dresser and saw a long stretch of fabric that could have been used for a variety of things: gagging, blindfolding, tying wrists together or onto those posts around the bed. It was silken looking and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch it. Jimin picked it up and then wrapped it around his neck with a smile. He found himself wishing he would pull hard on it but he didn’t, he just left it there like a scarf.

 

“What do you like?”

 

“I like it when you fuck me,” Yoongi retorted and this made the other man laugh as he turned back to the drawer.

 

“How do you feel about…ropes?”

 

Several minutes later, clothes all over the floor and spread out on the bed Yoongi watched Jimin slowly unbuckling his belt as he waited with baited breath. The fur coat felt even better than the leather and he hadn’t thought that even possible but it was. On the bed beside him were a variety of things: the silken gag and a long coil of rope, a bottle of lube. Yoongi had touched the rope and felt how smooth it was, not at all rough. It wouldn’t burn against his skin. The cock ring was black and he saw two loops and a little box of plastic with a slide button. He had never seen such things before, not even in the bad pornography he had stumbled across, so he didn’t really know to expect. But he trusted Jimin and he knew that he wouldn’t hurt him.

 

The man stepped out of his trousers and then collected the rope, uncoiling it slowly so that it slithered along the covers. The sound made him think of fingers on leather. Jimin was already stiffening and Yoongi had been throbbing hard the moment his back had hit the bed and the other man had helped him out of his jeans. Then he moved to get on the bed, kneeling by his spread open thighs and still running his eyes over his body. Jimin started knotting the rope around one thigh first, securing it in place before delicately looping it around and between his open thighs. He looped it around the other before pulling it taut. Yoongi felt his thighs slap together and he couldn’t help a moan escaping.

 

“Is it too tight, baby?” Jimin asked as he stopped. He shook his head and told him that it wasn’t. “If baby feels uncomfortable just tell Jimin, Jimin doesn’t want to hurt baby.”

 

“Buh-baby’s fine,” Yoongi mumbled, watching as he lightly knotted the rope and then created another level above it.

 

He watched his fingers work as he threaded and looped, made a series of layers all the way up and to his knees so that his legs were up straight in the air, then along and to his ankles. It was strange and yet fantastic feeling the soft rub of the smooth rope on his skin and the gentle warmth of Jimin’s fingers brushing against him. It wasn’t tight but he could feel a pressure dimpling into his skin and for some reason he liked it. It was like the seatbelt, holding him in place, keeping him safe. Jimin reached his ankles, having to reach up as he looped the material and then knotted it. When he was finished Yoongi looked at his legs to see a structure of ropes like a frame, pressing into his skin so that little red marks would be left in their wake. He couldn’t do much more than flex them, couldn’t really move at all.

 

“You look beautiful, baby,” Jimin said as he ran his hands along the ropes. “So beautiful.” Yoongi heard the soft rustle of his fingers as they trailed along the backs of his thighs and a shiver went through him, one that didn’t reach any lower than his hips because of his bound legs. “They should hang you in a gallery.” Oh, he wanted him to pet his head so bad that it hurt and then Jimin was reaching over to retrieve the silken gag. “People would line up to see you.”

 

“You made baby beautiful,” he explained as Jimin wrapped the lengths around his hands and pulled it taut, eyes running over his body as he figured out what to do next.

 

“When you lose a sense the others become more attuned,” the man said as he annoyingly played with the material. “Does baby want to feel even better?” Yoongi nodded in agreement and he smiled at him. “Then trust Jimin, OK?” Then he leaned over and he felt the fabric against his cheeks before it was being fixed in position over his eyes. Nothing but blackness and the press of silk on his eyelids as he felt Jimin lifting his head and threading it under, ruffling his hair as he secured the blindfold. “Still a lot of length left, let’s make baby look even more beautiful.” Yoongi couldn’t see anything at all so when the man’s fingers touched his wrist the contact was like a jolt and he felt his touch almost down to the bone. “You trust Jimin, right?”

 

“Baby trusts you,” he replied and then Jimin was delicately securing his wrists up over his head again; just like the Gallardo experiment.

 

He felt the rub of silk on his skin and heard the sound of Jimin humming softly under his breath as he worked. Yoongi didn’t have a clue what he looked like but according to Jimin it was art. Yoongi thought that art was seeing Jimin in that fur coat beside the Lamborghini Gallardo, the way he leaned over his Kawasaki Ninja and ran his hands over the chrome, or the sight of his slick mouth going down on his cock.

 

“There, now baby looks perfect,” Jimin said as he gently played with his hair. He felt his fingers snagging in it and then the familiar sensation of his cock leaking on his stomach with a hard twitch. “Ah, baby wants to feel good so no cumming.” Yoongi could only moan in response. “Now, before we begin I need to add the finishing touch.”

 

Jimin was talking about the cock ring like it was a cherry on the top of a cake. He felt his fingers going around him and then a slight pressure as Jimin slipped it down his length and right to the base, looping another slight piece of rubber down under his testicles. Then he felt the bed shifting as Jimin moved down to his bound legs.

 

“Jimin?”

 

“Yes, baby?”

 

“I-baby loves you.”

 

“Jimin loves baby too.” Jimin replied and he heard his preparing himself, pumping lube onto his fingers before he slipped them inside of him to loosen him. The cold liquid sensation was fantastic and Yoongi gasped as he pulled them out and then back in again, sliding them right up to the knuckles and curling them.

 

“Baby wants Jimin in-inside.”

 

“OK, what baby wants baby gets.” He felt the nudge of his cock as he slowly dragged it over his entrance, tortured him with the weight as he left it in place and reached up to stroke his thigh. Yoongi started whining at him so Jimin gave in and slid his head inside of him. “Baby looks so beautiful around my cock. A pretty pink flower, bloom for Jimin, baby.”

 

He groaned at his words, his pretty adorations at this filth that they were creating; pure art. Yoongi couldn’t jerk himself off with his hands tied together, couldn’t even rock his hip because of his legs. Jimin hadn’t lied about the heightened senses for he felt his fingers snagging on the rope and his lips running along the backs of his calves as if he hadn’t felt touch before in his life.

 

“Jimin that feels suh-so good.”

 

“Jimin told baby that he’d make him feel good, didn’t he?”

 

“Baby feels ah…amazing.” Oh, the cut of the rope into his thighs and the fur coat rubbing on his back and leaving ticklish little kisses in its wake; it was all too much. Jimin slid his length inside of him, one hand massaging at his buttocks as he did. Yoongi squeezed his thighs together hard and felt his ankles shaking, toes curling up because they were the only part of his lower body he could move. "Baby wants Jimin to go faster."

 

So Jimin did as he requested. Yoongi wasn’t even sure who was being dominated at this point, because whatever he asked for Jimin did without complaint. It was the perfect balance between being immobile and prey yet also controlling every single thrust.

 

Yoongi was drifting and Jimin was in the driver-seat. He was the car.

 

Had the cock ring not been in place he just knew that he would have orgasmed right around the time that Jimin started going deeper, stretched him tightly around his cock and groaned about how beautiful he looked. He didn’t do so however but rather just felt a deepening pressure build up at the base of his cock so that every thrust caused a throb, hard and powerful and making him moan. Yoongi twisted his hands to snag a handful of the fur tightly, seizing it and stroking in rhythm with Jimin’s hips. What he wouldn’t do to be able to just spread his thighs wide and have Jimin stretch over him, his weight on top of him so that every thrust made their hips collide and his stomach rubbed against his cock. But he couldn’t have that because of the ropes keeping his legs up in the air. Jimin played with the ropes with his lips and then reached down to his cock and then he felt his fingers playing with the ring. When the vibration kicked in Yoongi moaned in surprise and his fingers clawed at the coat.

 

“Does baby like that?”

 

“Yuh-yeah, Jimin,” he rasped as he took a gasp of air.

 

The ring was causing throbs to run all of the way up his cock to his head, and down and deep into his stomach. Jimin took his head in his hand and he rubbed with his thumb, touch causing his already hypersensitive cock to go into near overdrive.

 

“Tell Jimin when baby wants to bloom,” Jimin said before rocking into him harder, his own head hitting his prostate and making Yoongi nearly choke on a moan.

 

This was too much: the sensations and the feel of him fucking him open when he couldn’t even spread his thighs. He wanted to cum so bad but if he did then the pleasure would stop with an explosion and he wanted more. He wanted an entire race not just a lap, even when he was throbbing hard enough to hurt and he couldn’t breathe. He could hear and feel him pounding into him but couldn’t look, couldn’t see Jimin’s eyelids flicker and his cheeks flush as he licked his lips and took quick breaths. He was breathing on his calves now, hot breath and little moans against his skin. Just a little longer and he could give him, just a little more and-

 

“Baby wants to buh-bloom!” Yoongi cried out, legs uselessly stuck in place as he twisted.

 

He felt Jimin reaching down to pull the ring free and the sudden rush of pleasure to his cock was enough to make him shout and shudder. It was too much, he was on fire and the pleasure was peeling his skin off his bones and he could hear Jimin’s breathy moans as he started sobbing and choking for air. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but rock with every thrust of the man’s hips until his orgasm crashed into him. The pressure in his stomach wanted to race along his limbs but they were trapped by rope and silk and so it just exploded with a heat and force hard enough for him to almost scream in pleasure.

 

“Jimin!”

 

The man’s hands grabbed hold of the ropes as he bucked his hips hard and let out his own shouts of pleasure, several hard thrusts before he grinded against him and then repeated this over and over. Yoongi writhed on the fur as he ejaculated, twisting around so much that he felt it spilling onto the coat and all over his stomach. Then Jimin was breathing his name out in ragged moans until he thrust deep and orgasmed inside of him; hot semen leaking inside of him.

 

Yoongi stopped thrashing around and fell as still as he could with his shaking limbs as Jimin started unknotting the silk around his wrists and when he was free he wrenched the blindfold off his eyes. Jimin was looking down at him with red roses blooming on his cheeks and his hair was dripping sweat down onto his chest.

 

“Let’s get baby free,” Jimin said with a smile as he worked on the ropes around his ankles, quickly unbinding him and coiling the rope around his forearm as he did.

 

There were slightly pink marks on his skin and Yoongi touched them and felt slight dimples where they had dug into his skin. They looked like scorched tire marks. When the last knot was undone his legs dropped onto the bed with a loud thump. Then Jimin was putting the rope aside and before he could react he was being pulled into an embrace. The feel of Jimin’s lips pressing into his hair, along his forehead and then to his lips, hands rubbing at his back and his cheek.

 

“So beautiful.” Jimin crooned against his lips, fingers once again petting his hair. “You’re so beautiful Yoongi. A beautiful flower just for me.”

 

His palm was rubbing against his head, making him feel so warm and secure in his arms. He felt his shivering limbs getting heavy as he let Jimin wrap himself around him tightly, let him gently pat him to sleep as he told him just how good and beautiful he was. Yoongi just wished that he had the energy to tell him the same.

 

 

 

 

 

Hoseok had totalled the Bugatti Veyron.

 

Okay, that wasn’t exactly the case because he knew that he hadn’t crashed it into the blockade but a certain someone by the name of Kim Taehyung had. It had his name all over it, mostly because it was a head on collision that had crumpled the entire front of the car like a piece of sheet metal and had the engine currently pouring thick smoke out into the air. Yoongi eyed it with a mixture of anger, annoyance and heartbreak before turning to look at his friend. Hoseok was looking at it with a blank expression, arms folded over his chest and his mouth firmly shut for once. It was a blessing but it had taken the destruction of such a beautiful car to get such a result and Yoongi didn’t think that it was truly worth it.

 

“I’m charging for this shit,” he said eventually to break the silence between them both. Across the quarry Taehyung was playing with Jungkook on his phone, head on his shoulder as he tried to give gaming advice to the younger boy. Then Hoseok snorted loudly. “What?”

 

“Like you need cash…” Yoongi narrowed his eyes at him and his friend stammered out. “I mean you’re going steady with a porn star, a loaded porn star so-”

 

He lifted the wrench in his hand to point at the car and Hoseok yelped and leapt away as if he was going to hit him with it.

 

“A Bugatti! Now it looks like a two-seater fucking smart car!”

 

“Yeah alright alright, I shouldn’t have let him in the thing but you didn’t see the look on his face!” Hoseok argued, hands up defensively. “I couldn’t say no to him.” Yoongi asked him if he was in the passenger-seat beside him and he laughed. “No.”

 

“‘Cos to total a car this bad I expect to hear “yeah he was sucking on my dick and not even looking where he was going”.” Hoseok shook his head and denied this and Yoongi groaned and reached up to rub at his aching head. “I can’t fix this but I can cannibalise.”

 

“…Meaning?”

 

“Meaning go to the dealers and buy a new fucking car for tonight or you can’t race.” Hoseok perked up at this and asked if that meant he could finally get a Gallardo. “No, you’re not getting a Gallardo.”

 

“Oh, so you can ride one of those babies but we can’t?” Yoongi asked him if he wanted Taehyung anywhere near such a car and he paused before finishing. “He would be supervised at all times and-”

 

“If you come back with a Gallardo and he totals it I’ll kick your ass.”

 

“He won’t, he won’t I promise,” Hoseok said with a head shake.

 

Then he was crossing the lot and hollering to the two others, asking if they wanted to hit up the dealership with him and check out all of the honeys, as if his own honey wasn’t a crumpled ruination in front of him. Yoongi watched them leaving the quarry before sighing heavily at the Bugatti Veyron. Such a beautiful vehicle, it didn’t deserve this at all. He managed to pop the hood up and look at the wreck inside, thinking that it was a miracle that Taehyung hadn’t been crippled by his crash. It was going to take him a few days to salvage everything useful from the car before dismantling it for scraps. He was up for a race tonight and yet here he was in the baking hot sun staring at the Bugatti Veyron like a crime scene corpse.

 

He was so distracted watching the smoke pluming out of the ruined engine that when a loud slamming noise sounded in the quarry he jumped in surprise. It was the unmistakable sound of a car door being closed over, so he just dropped his gaze back to the Bugatti. Yet a minute later he heard the crisp crunch of footsteps on the slope so he looked up to see Jimin making his way down it at a leisurely pace.

 

There was no race, it was the middle of the afternoon and yet there he was. Yoongi felt his heart do a little skip as he walked right over to him and stopped, observing the ruined car intently.

 

“Oops.”

 

“I didn’t do this,” he explained, “stupid kid did it.”

 

Jimin asked him if he was busy and he gestured at the car and told him that he had to take it apart. So the other man moved to pull the Bugatti door open and sit in the passenger-seat. Yoongi asked him what he was doing and Jimin shrugged with a soft laugh.

 

“I’m spending time with you. Is it weird?”

 

“No…no I like it.” Jimin asked as if he had any plans after he worked on the car and Yoongi went silent for a moment. Then it was his turn to laugh. “Yeah, I was gonna sleep in the back of my ride and wait for the races to start tonight.”

 

“We should go for a ride instead,” Jimin replied as he settled back in the seat and smiled at him. “Have a race of our own.” Yoongi asked him what kind of race as he leaned forward and started loosening bolts on the engine block. “One with crazy bets.” He twisted at the bolt and felt a smile playing on his lips as he did. He wondered what they could bet on this time and thought that collars and spanking might just find their way onto the playing field. “Two teams; team Jimin and team Baby. Fierce competition, shocking odds. Don’t you think that sounds more fun than napping in a car?”

 

Yoongi thought that it sounded fucking fantastic.