kais
in
cupofdaisies
Rev Your Engines
Title: Rev Your Engines
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Genre: fluff, romance, street racer!au
Rating: pg
Length: 2k
Summary: Jongin is a popular street racer and Kyungsoo is a big fan.
Note: This is all for Huiru (hokaidos). I hope you enjoy it and feel better soon.
Kyungsoo goes to the racetrack every weekend; it’s just regular, illegal street racing, with wagers being placed on riders all around, but he loves the screech of the air horn and the smoke that pours from spinning tires. He loves the drivers who sit on their bikes with their helmets on, identities concealed behind the roar of engines and flawlessly executed turns.
There’s one driver in particular that Kyungsoo keeps an eye on every time he races, one that almost never takes off his helmet and speeds down the road like a bullet. If Kyungsoo didn’t know better, he’d say he’s in love with the tan fingers that curl around rubber handlebars and the emphatic roar of a jet black bike.
He thinks it’s all just a rushed, adrenaline powered illusion.
Then he meets Jongin on a hot Saturday night in the middle of August.
He’s sitting with Baekhyun on the hood of his car, watching some guy show off his subwoofers with a Beenzino song when Oh Sehun approaches and invites them to hang out with the rest of his crew.
“I don’t see why not,” Baekhyun shrugs, and they follow him through the throng of people that make up the party.
He gets introduced to them one by one, shakes hands with Luhan, Kris, Minseok, Yi Xing-- all of the rest, of course. It goes smoothly for Kyungsoo with gracious smiles and a firm grip.
But as Kyungsoo stands in front of Jongin, who’s wearing a black leather jacket covering taut muscles and black skinnies that cling to his legs, the air in his lungs goes stagnant. The boy before him is absolutely breathtaking, and Kyungsoo curses the helmet that has kept him from seeing Jongin for so long before sticking out his hand and introducing himself. “I’m a big fan,” he continues. He knows this is the same rider he watches by the designs on his helmet.
Jongin blushes cutely, the world around them melting into something syrupy and amber until it’s only them encased in a bubble of solidarity. “Thanks,” he says, taking Kyungsoo’s hand, and then even the sound of Baekhyun’s fingers snapping or Sehun’s teases can’t break them out of the electricity-induced trance that comes with their skin touching.
The genuine tenderness in his eyes is in such stark contrast to the wicked eyeliner and thick lips that paint a picture of crooked smirks and low expectations. Even his amicability grates down his cut-throat moves on the road.
“We should take a ride together sometime,” Jongin tells him later that night as they chill on the hood on Kyungsoo’s car, beers in their hands and smiles on their faces. The summer’s night is wrapped in a blanket of stars and heat that makes their heads swim.
Kyungsoo grins even wider, leaning back against the windshield, and Jongin copies his movements. “I’d really like that.”
--
“Come on,” Jongin whispers to Kyungsoo, lips close to his ear and their arms brushing, “let’s get out of here.”
It’s been a couple of weeks since they met and all nervous chuckles and shy smiles have died down into comfortable touches and affable stares. They’re gathered in the crowd of the onlookers, Jongin just having won another race by a landslide, and now he wants to take Kyungsoo up on that ride.
“Sure,” he agrees without hesitation, and together they sneak away from their friends, climbing onto Jongin’s Ducati Streetfighter 848.
They drive out to the middle of the country, somewhere not quite in the city or out in the middle of no where, but the perfect distance for guaranteed privacy with a hint of reality.
They clamber out into the center of a field somewhere, a quilt draped over Jongin’s arm so they can sit comfortably in the already dewy grass. The power of nature stands with a hold over their lives and presses fate into their chests as they rest in the midst of trees and long stalks of grass.
“It’s really nice out here,” Kyungsoo says, and whether he’s talking to Jongin or to the trees and the moonlight that filters between their leaves, he does not know.
“It’s where I come to get away,” Jongin whispers back. They keep silent because nothing should break the ruffling of plants so much bigger than themselves; their voices, their existence, are dwarves in the face of giants.
Conversation flows like a stream between the two of them, floating rocks of topics that range from their childhood to their parents to the present, but neither of them talk about the future. For people like them-- rejects of society because they live their lives for them and not for the green stuffed in their wallets-- the future can mean anything.
The future for Jongin could mean a motorcycle crash or it could mean three children by some woman he barely likes. It could mean being the CEO of a company or falling in madly in love with a stranger.
The future for Kyungsoo could mean assimilation into society and college and what others dictate as a ‘real’ future. It could mean he rides off into the sunset on the back of someone’s bike because that’s what he would fucking want to do.
The future for the two of them together could be nothing, or it could be everything.
But right here, laying next to each other, they can pan out into now and stop thinking about what if.
--
Sometimes Kyungsoo likes to hop on the back of Jongin’s bike when the morning sun is rising and the mob of people at the races have disappeared back into their lives. Even their friends eventually slink away, and that’s when he wraps his arms around Jongin’s waist and rests his head on the younger’s shoulder.
They cruise around without a real purpose and watch the way the sun draws long shadows from the trash that litters the ground. Occasionally they even drive down the previous night’s track, scrutinize the skidmarks that darken the asphalt, and Jongin will tell him stories about what happened where.
There’s road block signs, orange and bright, that are spread out across a couple of intersecting roads to keep pedestrians away. That’s usually how the cops bust them (not like they ever catch anyone, anyway).
And it’s enough for them to be crammed on a motorcycle like that together with only the morning as their witness.
--
It becomes routine to spend an hour or two with their friends before driving out into the country every Friday and Saturday night. Something about tonight is different, though. The air feels light against them, like maybe their world doesn’t have to built on teenage angst and the exhaust smoke from the bike in front of them.
Maybe it can be built on something as grand and as old as the roots that run so deep into the ground that they aren’t affected by wind or rain or shine.
Tonight, they lay beneath the universe and laugh about how Kyungsoo drives a BMW K1600GT even though he doesn’t race, and he explains that he’s always wanted to but was too afraid to take the chance of losing. They talk about the tattoo that Jongin has on his hip that he got because he lost a bet with Yi Xing and Jongdae over how much ice cream he could actually snort.
“You know,” Kyungsoo muses once their laughs are shaken out and the vibrancy around them has died down, “you’re a lot different than I thought you’d be.”
Jongin turns to look at him, hands laced behind his head and the remnants of a smile left curling his lips. “Yeah? What did you think I’d be like?”
Kyungsoo also turns to look at him and his own hands rest against his stomach. “I thought you’d be really cool. No, not that you aren’t!” He quickly sits up and reassures when Jongin snorts. “I mean, I thought you’d be this really stoic, cold-hearted guy that only gave passing gratitude, you know? Because you’re a really hardcore street racer. I just…” Kyungsoo looks over his shoulder at him, at a loss for words.
“And what am I really like?” Jongin murmurs, glancing up to him with curiosity flitting over the features of his face.
He hesitates, just slightly, unsure of his words and the truth that’s bouncing around so painfully in his mouth. “You’re… really nice. And sweet. And you’re a dork. You flinch under your helmet everytime the blow horn starts a race,” Kyungsoo turns back around, unable to keep the grin off his face nor keep his eyes to Jongin’s so he looks at the rough fibers of the blanket.
“You laugh really loudly when you’re embarrassed and you have really pretty teeth, and your neck is thick and so is your head but it’s really quite endearing. Not to mention how good-looking you are. You draw really well, too, and you can dance, and you’re one of the best drivers in the lineup… Sorry.”
The moments following are tense in wait of a reaction, but Kyungsoo keeps his face forward, towards the cluster of trees right in front of them.
“You want to know what I think of you?”
He turns around at Jongin’s soft voice. “Sure.”
“At first I thought you were going to be this nerdy fan that only watched because he didn’t know how to have fun himself. I thought you’d never known what an adrenaline rush is like aside from public speaking, and that your laugh would be really obnoxious.
“But it turns out your laugh is really cute, and so are you, and you’ve shown me more fun in a month than I’ve had in my entire life. True happiness isn’t about enjoying things by yourself. It’s about sharing them with other people and being able to see the joy in their eyes that mirrors yours, you know?”
“Yeah.” Kyungsoo lets his eyelids flutter just a bit from the rush of words. “I know.”
“You’re also very kind,” Jongin continues. “And caring. And you sing well just like you’re good with kids. Your eyes turn into moons you’re scared and to crescents when you’re happy. I really like when you’re happy, Soo--”
Jongin gets cut off when Kyungsoo swings a leg around him, straddling his hips and laying down so that his chin digs into a hard chest. Their faces are close; Kyungsoo can see his own reflection in the black pools of his pupils.
“And I think I might already be in love with you.” Kyungsoo wonders for a brief second if maybe he’s scaring Jongin off, but then the look in the younger’s eyes is softening into globes that cloud with a future carved out for the two of them.
Jongin’s face is mostly blank when his arms fall from behind his head and his hand cups Kyungsoo’s cheek, a callous thumb running over blushing cheeks and his other fingers tracing the line of his jaw. He cranes his head just slightly and Kyungsoo leans down so that their lips teasingly brush. Then Jongin grabs him, hard, passionately, and kisses him like he means it. Kyungsoo’s top lip is caught between Jongin’s, they’re moving against each other slowly, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“I think I’m in love with you too,” Jongin murmurs, words dusting his skin and sparking a multitude of butterflies in his stomach.
They end up side by side again with their fingers intertwined between them. They’re young and they’re probably dumb but just laying there, hearts content, creates the picture of the oldest element in the history of time.
(Love.)
As Kyungsoo looks over at Jongin, watching the moon sway tides of shy smiles that come and go, he can’t help but think that love is like a motor that needs to be cared for and maintained, but can start up instantaneously at the flick of a wrist. Then he looks up at the sky and wonders if the stars can hear the rev of their engines.
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Genre: fluff, romance, street racer!au
Rating: pg
Length: 2k
Summary: Jongin is a popular street racer and Kyungsoo is a big fan.
Note: This is all for Huiru (hokaidos). I hope you enjoy it and feel better soon.
Kyungsoo goes to the racetrack every weekend; it’s just regular, illegal street racing, with wagers being placed on riders all around, but he loves the screech of the air horn and the smoke that pours from spinning tires. He loves the drivers who sit on their bikes with their helmets on, identities concealed behind the roar of engines and flawlessly executed turns.
There’s one driver in particular that Kyungsoo keeps an eye on every time he races, one that almost never takes off his helmet and speeds down the road like a bullet. If Kyungsoo didn’t know better, he’d say he’s in love with the tan fingers that curl around rubber handlebars and the emphatic roar of a jet black bike.
He thinks it’s all just a rushed, adrenaline powered illusion.
Then he meets Jongin on a hot Saturday night in the middle of August.
He’s sitting with Baekhyun on the hood of his car, watching some guy show off his subwoofers with a Beenzino song when Oh Sehun approaches and invites them to hang out with the rest of his crew.
“I don’t see why not,” Baekhyun shrugs, and they follow him through the throng of people that make up the party.
He gets introduced to them one by one, shakes hands with Luhan, Kris, Minseok, Yi Xing-- all of the rest, of course. It goes smoothly for Kyungsoo with gracious smiles and a firm grip.
But as Kyungsoo stands in front of Jongin, who’s wearing a black leather jacket covering taut muscles and black skinnies that cling to his legs, the air in his lungs goes stagnant. The boy before him is absolutely breathtaking, and Kyungsoo curses the helmet that has kept him from seeing Jongin for so long before sticking out his hand and introducing himself. “I’m a big fan,” he continues. He knows this is the same rider he watches by the designs on his helmet.
Jongin blushes cutely, the world around them melting into something syrupy and amber until it’s only them encased in a bubble of solidarity. “Thanks,” he says, taking Kyungsoo’s hand, and then even the sound of Baekhyun’s fingers snapping or Sehun’s teases can’t break them out of the electricity-induced trance that comes with their skin touching.
The genuine tenderness in his eyes is in such stark contrast to the wicked eyeliner and thick lips that paint a picture of crooked smirks and low expectations. Even his amicability grates down his cut-throat moves on the road.
“We should take a ride together sometime,” Jongin tells him later that night as they chill on the hood on Kyungsoo’s car, beers in their hands and smiles on their faces. The summer’s night is wrapped in a blanket of stars and heat that makes their heads swim.
Kyungsoo grins even wider, leaning back against the windshield, and Jongin copies his movements. “I’d really like that.”
--
“Come on,” Jongin whispers to Kyungsoo, lips close to his ear and their arms brushing, “let’s get out of here.”
It’s been a couple of weeks since they met and all nervous chuckles and shy smiles have died down into comfortable touches and affable stares. They’re gathered in the crowd of the onlookers, Jongin just having won another race by a landslide, and now he wants to take Kyungsoo up on that ride.
“Sure,” he agrees without hesitation, and together they sneak away from their friends, climbing onto Jongin’s Ducati Streetfighter 848.
They drive out to the middle of the country, somewhere not quite in the city or out in the middle of no where, but the perfect distance for guaranteed privacy with a hint of reality.
They clamber out into the center of a field somewhere, a quilt draped over Jongin’s arm so they can sit comfortably in the already dewy grass. The power of nature stands with a hold over their lives and presses fate into their chests as they rest in the midst of trees and long stalks of grass.
“It’s really nice out here,” Kyungsoo says, and whether he’s talking to Jongin or to the trees and the moonlight that filters between their leaves, he does not know.
“It’s where I come to get away,” Jongin whispers back. They keep silent because nothing should break the ruffling of plants so much bigger than themselves; their voices, their existence, are dwarves in the face of giants.
Conversation flows like a stream between the two of them, floating rocks of topics that range from their childhood to their parents to the present, but neither of them talk about the future. For people like them-- rejects of society because they live their lives for them and not for the green stuffed in their wallets-- the future can mean anything.
The future for Jongin could mean a motorcycle crash or it could mean three children by some woman he barely likes. It could mean being the CEO of a company or falling in madly in love with a stranger.
The future for Kyungsoo could mean assimilation into society and college and what others dictate as a ‘real’ future. It could mean he rides off into the sunset on the back of someone’s bike because that’s what he would fucking want to do.
The future for the two of them together could be nothing, or it could be everything.
But right here, laying next to each other, they can pan out into now and stop thinking about what if.
--
Sometimes Kyungsoo likes to hop on the back of Jongin’s bike when the morning sun is rising and the mob of people at the races have disappeared back into their lives. Even their friends eventually slink away, and that’s when he wraps his arms around Jongin’s waist and rests his head on the younger’s shoulder.
They cruise around without a real purpose and watch the way the sun draws long shadows from the trash that litters the ground. Occasionally they even drive down the previous night’s track, scrutinize the skidmarks that darken the asphalt, and Jongin will tell him stories about what happened where.
There’s road block signs, orange and bright, that are spread out across a couple of intersecting roads to keep pedestrians away. That’s usually how the cops bust them (not like they ever catch anyone, anyway).
And it’s enough for them to be crammed on a motorcycle like that together with only the morning as their witness.
--
It becomes routine to spend an hour or two with their friends before driving out into the country every Friday and Saturday night. Something about tonight is different, though. The air feels light against them, like maybe their world doesn’t have to built on teenage angst and the exhaust smoke from the bike in front of them.
Maybe it can be built on something as grand and as old as the roots that run so deep into the ground that they aren’t affected by wind or rain or shine.
Tonight, they lay beneath the universe and laugh about how Kyungsoo drives a BMW K1600GT even though he doesn’t race, and he explains that he’s always wanted to but was too afraid to take the chance of losing. They talk about the tattoo that Jongin has on his hip that he got because he lost a bet with Yi Xing and Jongdae over how much ice cream he could actually snort.
“You know,” Kyungsoo muses once their laughs are shaken out and the vibrancy around them has died down, “you’re a lot different than I thought you’d be.”
Jongin turns to look at him, hands laced behind his head and the remnants of a smile left curling his lips. “Yeah? What did you think I’d be like?”
Kyungsoo also turns to look at him and his own hands rest against his stomach. “I thought you’d be really cool. No, not that you aren’t!” He quickly sits up and reassures when Jongin snorts. “I mean, I thought you’d be this really stoic, cold-hearted guy that only gave passing gratitude, you know? Because you’re a really hardcore street racer. I just…” Kyungsoo looks over his shoulder at him, at a loss for words.
“And what am I really like?” Jongin murmurs, glancing up to him with curiosity flitting over the features of his face.
He hesitates, just slightly, unsure of his words and the truth that’s bouncing around so painfully in his mouth. “You’re… really nice. And sweet. And you’re a dork. You flinch under your helmet everytime the blow horn starts a race,” Kyungsoo turns back around, unable to keep the grin off his face nor keep his eyes to Jongin’s so he looks at the rough fibers of the blanket.
“You laugh really loudly when you’re embarrassed and you have really pretty teeth, and your neck is thick and so is your head but it’s really quite endearing. Not to mention how good-looking you are. You draw really well, too, and you can dance, and you’re one of the best drivers in the lineup… Sorry.”
The moments following are tense in wait of a reaction, but Kyungsoo keeps his face forward, towards the cluster of trees right in front of them.
“You want to know what I think of you?”
He turns around at Jongin’s soft voice. “Sure.”
“At first I thought you were going to be this nerdy fan that only watched because he didn’t know how to have fun himself. I thought you’d never known what an adrenaline rush is like aside from public speaking, and that your laugh would be really obnoxious.
“But it turns out your laugh is really cute, and so are you, and you’ve shown me more fun in a month than I’ve had in my entire life. True happiness isn’t about enjoying things by yourself. It’s about sharing them with other people and being able to see the joy in their eyes that mirrors yours, you know?”
“Yeah.” Kyungsoo lets his eyelids flutter just a bit from the rush of words. “I know.”
“You’re also very kind,” Jongin continues. “And caring. And you sing well just like you’re good with kids. Your eyes turn into moons you’re scared and to crescents when you’re happy. I really like when you’re happy, Soo--”
Jongin gets cut off when Kyungsoo swings a leg around him, straddling his hips and laying down so that his chin digs into a hard chest. Their faces are close; Kyungsoo can see his own reflection in the black pools of his pupils.
“And I think I might already be in love with you.” Kyungsoo wonders for a brief second if maybe he’s scaring Jongin off, but then the look in the younger’s eyes is softening into globes that cloud with a future carved out for the two of them.
Jongin’s face is mostly blank when his arms fall from behind his head and his hand cups Kyungsoo’s cheek, a callous thumb running over blushing cheeks and his other fingers tracing the line of his jaw. He cranes his head just slightly and Kyungsoo leans down so that their lips teasingly brush. Then Jongin grabs him, hard, passionately, and kisses him like he means it. Kyungsoo’s top lip is caught between Jongin’s, they’re moving against each other slowly, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“I think I’m in love with you too,” Jongin murmurs, words dusting his skin and sparking a multitude of butterflies in his stomach.
They end up side by side again with their fingers intertwined between them. They’re young and they’re probably dumb but just laying there, hearts content, creates the picture of the oldest element in the history of time.
(Love.)
As Kyungsoo looks over at Jongin, watching the moon sway tides of shy smiles that come and go, he can’t help but think that love is like a motor that needs to be cared for and maintained, but can start up instantaneously at the flick of a wrist. Then he looks up at the sky and wonders if the stars can hear the rev of their engines.