off to the races (1/?)
off to the races (1/?)
~ 3,254 w, r, (krystal/kai)
Krystal gets his engine running, literally.
■ first of all, I apologize for the really long hiatus! I finally graduated and I took the time off to socialize, relax etc.
■ I'm not too happy with this but I love the idea so I went ahead and kept on writing.
■ Kai in f(x) teaser pics, what else can I say? This ship is sailing itself obvly
■ a little fanmix to accompany this fic
■ would love it if you guys could leave me more ideas in the drop box
Jongin’s always been a night person, a nocturnal animal of some sort. Live fast, die young, that’s his way of getting by - the artificial bright lights in the dark, the smell of leather seeping into his pores, the world in your hands with just a simple touch of the throttle.
"I’m bored of this Ecosse crap," Chanyeol drawled, a displeased expression on his face as his hand runs up and down the worn out handles.
“Go find yourself a new toy then,” Kyungsoo says, smoking at lung cancer speed, “That’s all we’re ever good for anyway.”
He’s part of the big picture, coked up and slick.
The warehouse is in its usual illegal, crowded state with rebellious teenage dudes walking around in pricey leather jackets and designer tagged helmets in arms. Familiar faces reflect off gleaming motor bikes put on platform for money intimidation purpose, little kids who like to play the big league but not enough cash to make up for it.
And this is the empire Jongin built with his own two hands, the only thing he truly owns.
“We’re doing pretty well tonight.”
“Well?” Baekhyun chuckles dryly at Jongin’s statement. “Dude, this is fucking insane! By the end of tonight, I can buy myself a castle and throw in a couple of ponies.”
Suho’s distracted and turns at the sight of some flirtation smiling red head in a tight dress, whistling in appreciation. “And don’t forget the girls - all these lovely ladies piling up for us.”
Sehun rolls his eyes, blowing a perfect smoke ring. “They just want a free ride around town.”
“They can take me for a ride around the whole country if they’d like.” Baekhyun jokes, wagging his eye brows in suggestive manners. “Hey Jongin, do we still stock up on champagne around he -“
“Masters?”
Baekhyun groaned in frustration and seethes through gritted teeth, “How many times do I need to tell to people not to interrupt me when I’m talking?”
“Learn some manners,” Kyungsoo says, a curt hiss and turns to the anxious looking worker that had been debating with himself whether to interrupt their conversation for a while now. “What is it?”
The short and stout boy they’ve hired last month is on his toes, his face turning paler and paler after each and every word whispered to Baekhyun. Jongin watches from the corner of his eyes, lacking in interest and yawns out a ‘stop’ to server with a tray full of martinis. A group of junky girls crowding around the NCR in their less than decent dresses wave at him, giggling and Jong In grimaced in return, raising his glass in pretend acknowledgement.
“Jongin! Dude!”
“Yeah?” He responds lazily, being spun around by the hand on his shoulder. “What?”
Suho looks sober for the first time of the night with his nails leavings a mark on Jongin’s leather jacket, mumbles, “We’ve been robbed.”
Well, that’s new, Jongin thinks and chews on the olive.
“Right, shit got stolen, what’s the big deal?”
Kyungsoo looks like he’s about to burst a vein, bloodshot eyes twitching as he slams the table with the back of his hand with such force it sends Chanyeol jumping out of his seat in fear. “What’s the big deal? You ask what’s the big deal?!”
“Okay, dude,” Baekyun begins, too terrified to look up at Kyungsoo. “It’s not so much of a crisis. These things happen all the time when you’re in this kind of business.”
“He’s right, Kyungsoo,” Jongin adds and nod at Baekhyun in agreement. “Just find out which gang did it, give them a good scare, push ‘em around a little until they give back our stocks - all in its rightful condition and if not then,” Jongin pauses for a moment of pondering then shrugs, “cash.”
Suho props his feet up on the table, says, “Sounds simple enough.”
“It’s not.”
It’s three in the morning and the minute hand that belongs to a smashed face of a red clock, keeps on ticking. Chanyeol and Suho clowned around with the basketball too much and listened to Kyungsoo too little. It was in the morning on that day too, the sun just began to rise when the orange ball that Chanyeol threw, rebounded off the clock and left it with a cracked surface. Kyungsoo yelled a lot, as he usually does but he had fun, Jong In knew and so did all of them. Not today though - Kyungsoo didn’t laugh like that summer morning, harsh lines form on his face and he’s sweating like he forgot its winter.
Suddenly, Sehun who hasn’t spoken a word ever since the incident makes them all turn in their seats at his exaggerated sigh. “So the rumours are true, huh?
This makes him turn and questions everything, “What’s this about?”
At that question, Kyungsoo eyes Jongin warily and says in a small voice, “This isn’t a gang we’re dealing with.”
“If it’s not a gang then what is it?” Suho chuckles, blowing up the strawberry flavoured bubble-gum he’s been chewing on for the past hour. “Did Santa pay us a visit to steal all the presents back?”
“It was a one person job.”
Baekhyun stiffens, curses, “Oh fuck”
The clock stops ticking, it’s the beginning or the end, Jongin can’t tell anymore.
Jongin’s job is a simple one - he deals and when he deals, he is, to put it lightly, lying. The more people he fools, the more machines, the better the cash. It’s not a big part of the process but it is a significant one that requires certain skills such as a sincere smile that holds a certificate of authenticity.
His relationship with his father is in the worst condition possible but his words of wisdom remains with Jongin - “Doing dirty business means you always have to be ready for things to go wrong.”
They’re not prepared.
“You’re telling me,” Baekhyun pauses to take one deep breath to calm his nerve then, “That one, ONE person hacked through our security system and drove off with our most expensive Harley then called all his little friends up to collect the rest?”
“Yeah,” Sehun replies dully and sits forward slightly, “Basically.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
Kyungsoo turns away, growing more serious by the seconds and Jongin knows the older boy is seeing wasted money, as he is.
“So…” Jongin begins in a casual manner, shoving his hands in his pants’ pockets, “How do we get everything they’ve stolen back?”
Kyungsoo seems to contemplate over the rather straight forward question, pacing back and forth and trimming his finger nails with his teeth. He’s unstoppable and no one bothered to voice their displease opinions about his behaviour. He is the boss, the alpha male, he does what he wants, when he wants and the authority should not be challenged.
“I don’t want any shooting.” He says in a final tone. Baehyun mouth shuts close as quickly as it fell open, the argument is at the tip of his tongue but he knew better, like the rest of them. “We’ll play their game one of us will race against them for it, fair and square, if we lose everything then we lose everything but if we win, we win eve -“
“Oh so that’s your genius plan? Lose everything we’ve worked for?” Suho yells, shooting out all sorts of unnecessary comments he’s been holding in. “Yeah, have fun with that, Kyungsoo ‘cause I’m no -“
“I’ll do it.”
“How old are you kid?”
Smoke gets in Jongin’s eyes, answers, “Nineteen.”
The biker bums out his cig and looks up for the first time, eye scanning up and down his form. “I never see you ‘round before.” He pauses, crosses his arms then, “Your first time, kid?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re too young to die.” He states but sounding more like a warning as he points his tatts filled fore finger at Jongin’s chest. “Chances are, kid, you’ll die tonight. First round - won’t get shit back, won’t even make it home.”
He’s yet to experience any panic and continues on with the conversation, unafraid and calm. “How many times have you done this?”
“Enough time to know that I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
Kyungsoo had repeatedly nagged him to arrive early - these things are precise, he’d say like a prayer and here Jongin was, thirty mins later with loud, drunken hookers trying to make money along with an overwhelming amount of amateur racers. This is the coldest it has been in weeks and he shivers in Baekhyun’s denim bomber, toes freezing in his boots. They come in packs, in little clans of fast bikes with dirty aviators to shield the moon light and short skirts’ whores in the back.
The music is loud and messy, too many boom boxes fighting over each other and Jongin blocks it all out in order to keep sane. He’s never been in a place this rowdy, this wild, this crazy in a long while now. Can’t say he misses it, Jongin thinks and pulls out his flask, full to the brim with rum, takes a swig.
“Cheers” The biker murmurs, taking a sip out of his own.
Jongin laughs slightly at the inscription - fuck my liver. A nice reminder of the damage they’re doing to their health, living this way, but he know neither of them would have it any other way.
“Who’s the toughest to beat?”
The biker quirks an eyebrow. “You just don’t give up, do you?”
Jongin just shakes his head in response and keeps on drinking.
Tatts man glances down at his wrist watch and whispers, “Wait for it.”
The silence drags on for longer than he’d have liked before a group of bikers pull up near the badly drawn start line. The crowd seems to erupt into an animalistic growls just at the sight of those seven Harleys, lined up almost perfectly as they take their time with the dramatic entrance. The helmets come off and one by one, the crowd goes a bit crazier than the last.
“Look at the last one,” he mumbles to Jongin, as if he’s afraid that someone else will be able to hear him. “On the right.”
Long, glossy hair, brown eyes, scarlet painted lips.
“Now that,” the other man says with a sinful smirk, his finger tracing a line of her curves almost as if he could almost feel it under his fingertips, “Is the devil in disguise so if I were you, I’d be careful.”
He takes the advice and looks away.
She stays atop of the cherry red Ferrari like a sight to be admired and hums to the sound of men howling and sways to the engine’s lullaby.
Jongin feels unnerved, staring at her, at this point he looks away and goes back to dwelling on the
race.
“Bet you’re intimidated.”
He turns, strand of mussed hair falling in his eyes. It’s one of them; Jongin recognized and stare back at the curious eyes without so much of an ounce of emotion.
“She’s an exotic beauty, isn’t she?” The tall stranger says with a mocking edge, looming behind his back like a shadow. “Very lethal too.”
Jongin turns away, says, “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’m Kris and you?” He offers a hand, smiling like a Cheshire cat with a hidden intention.
“Kai”
“Kai, who?”
He hops on his bike with a small sigh, “Kai-I’m-about-to-beat-you-and-your-little-girlfriend.”
“Cocky, I see,” Kris laughs. “I’m not on tonight but Krystal and my other friend, Tao would be more than happy to show you a good time.”
“You know, there are a lot of people with a lot at stakes today. You and I and your gang, being the teeny tiny part of that crowd.” Jongin murmurs with a cig in his mouth and lighter held to it, “I can take care of myself, I can show myself a good time, no problem.” He says, inspecting his helmet for any signs of last minute repair. “You should worry about me taking care of your friends, Kris.”
Kris smiles a bitter one. “Just watch your back out there, Kai.”
They line up. Legs hitched over bikes, grip tight on throttle - like little boys and their toys, wroom wroom, here they go.
A pretty girl with long legs holds up a flag, smile harsh against the dark night. She winks her blue orbs at Jongin, a flirty notion which he accepts in a disinterest nod before closing his pro shield.
There’s a rush in racing - the guilty pleasure of having the thought of death encrypted deep at the back of your mind. The breathing being more of a challenge rather than nature because he knows, they all know, this might be their last so might as well take a big one.
“Hey, Kai.”
He hears a sultry voice from his right and it gets his full attention.
Her piercing gaze does something to him, he doesn’t know what it is. “Do you like to play games?”
Jongin doesn’t answer, only stare back at her even if she might not know it.
“How about a game of chase?”
Her shield is up and she’s off to the races - fast as a lighting, untameable like the vixen that she is.
She doesn’t play fair, he should have known, Jongin thought as he swerves pass from the corpse of the girl with long legs, so pretty lying in a pool of blood, national flag draped over her. A picture of tragedy Krystal has painted with her psychotic idea of fun.
Jongin speeds after her - a cat or mouse in this game, he no longer knows.
The traffic lights get in his eyes as his side mirror goes flying off the high way. The red bike crashes into him sideway and he crashes into the blue one head one, watching the driver fall of his bike with an earth shattering ‘thud’.
Jongin’s been at this for two hours and he’s yet to catch a sight of Krystal or the finish line. He’s
been constant with his forefront position, always unafraid to play the villain who eliminates the competitions in ways dirtier than one would ever expect. He knows the field and how it works as well as the back of his hands but there were no ebony tresses, no vampy presence - Krystal was missing and how can he accept her challenge when she won’t let him in the first place.
“Newbie!”
The blood red bike seems to be saying to him. It’s the face reflected in the kill machine that is speaking to him, the owner that’s been riding along his side that’s been doing nothing but dodging all the attacks aimed at him for hours now. The player’s without a helmet and Jongin figures he likes to play with fire.
“Talk” he yells back over the sound of multiple engines slowly closing in on them.
The boy with sharp jawline angles his Ducati closer, says in a hush voice that’s barely audible to either of them, “If you want your stocks back, turn right when you see the next crossroad.”
“How do I know you’re not lying just to put me off my game?”
He smiles a little too slyly, says, “You wouldn’t want daddy to find out you’ve lost his money makers when he gets back in the next month.” And speeds off, mercilessly pushing a stranger off his bike on his way down the road.
Kyungsoo has never been one to gamble but Jongin is so he takes himself to the unknown.
Always expect the unexpected, they say.
So Jongin takes his time to calculate all the risks he has put himself in when he races down an abandoned street. Just when he thinks he’s prepared for what’s to come, he catches a sight of what belongs in the warehouse, his warehouse.
There’s a lonely ancient lamp post - the last source of power, blinking its few last dying light, acting as a poor spotlight for the BMW. It’s a show that’s been put on for him, a ridiculed display of how good they’ve had it and now they don’t have anything at all. A shadow of the figure hiding behind the brick wall is monstrous in his eyes and its awaiting his arrival.
“I’ve been waiting for so long to see you again.”
Denim cladded leg appears under the orange tinted along with a doc martens’ boot which is soon joined by its pair. A slender form, so petite, so fragile yet so dangerous looking - the perfect portrayal of mystery and danger, Krystal, here they meet again.
Her skin is ivory, her lips are blood - an angel or the devil, how to distinguish?
“Why did you bring me here?”
Krystal giggles like a child, innocent and playful. “I like being a tease,” she says with a nonchalant shrug, stroking the side panel with her perfectly manicured index finger. “I like having what other wants more though.”
Jongin hops off his bike, eyes hard on the girl infront of him as he leans against his engine and crosses his arms. “Stealing can get you in trouble.”
Her smile fades within seconds. “Have we been introduced? I don’t think so.” She says with false enthusiasm and step towards him with ease, moving closer and closer until she’s in the darkness with him. “People know me as Krystal but my real name is Soojung.” It comes out as a breathy whisper against his lips, he inhales her scent and it’s just like poison. “I want you to call me Soojung. It's much more intimate. I like intimate."
And her arms are around his neck, nails clawing into his skin when he mutters his answer, “I don’t like intimate, especially not with enemies.”
She frowns and retreats, sighs and says, “Maybe next time then.”
“There won’t be a next ti -“
He is silenced with the feel of her lips against his own - the feel of her tongue prying open his darkest desire and he lets her. She tastes like a forbidden fruit, he wants more. His arm encircled around her waist, ridding off any space between them and ridding her of any air. The other tilting her head up for better access as he leaves bruising kisses down her neck and in return, receives a gutturals growl of pleasure from Krystal as she wraps her legs around his waist, wiggling against him for more.
“I want you,” she moans, “Now”
And that’s enough to make him slam her into a wall and onto his bike.
She presses a kiss against his ears and takes a much needed breath, “God, you’re hot.”
Krystal gets his engine running, literally.
“What are yo -“
“This,” she grunts, kicking back the side stand with full force and stepped on the gas, making him jump back in surprise. “Has been fun but we really should do this some other time, I’m on a time limit.”
“Fuck,” Jongin curses and runs for the BMW.
“See you soon.” Krystal shouts back her farewell, swiveling her head around for one last, triumphant grin. “Don’t miss me too much, yeah, Jongin?”
Well, the devil’s got a smile of an angel.
It’s Sehun who comes and gets him. It takes him three hours and four cigarette packs to locate Jongin.
“At least we got the BMW back.” Is the first thing he says and the last for the rest of the night.
That probably has something to do with the lipstick prints left all over him.
NEXT >>
~ 3,254 w, r, (krystal/kai)
Krystal gets his engine running, literally.
■ first of all, I apologize for the really long hiatus! I finally graduated and I took the time off to socialize, relax etc.
■ I'm not too happy with this but I love the idea so I went ahead and kept on writing.
■ Kai in f(x) teaser pics, what else can I say? This ship is sailing itself obvly
■ a little fanmix to accompany this fic
■ would love it if you guys could leave me more ideas in the drop box
Jongin’s always been a night person, a nocturnal animal of some sort. Live fast, die young, that’s his way of getting by - the artificial bright lights in the dark, the smell of leather seeping into his pores, the world in your hands with just a simple touch of the throttle.
"I’m bored of this Ecosse crap," Chanyeol drawled, a displeased expression on his face as his hand runs up and down the worn out handles.
“Go find yourself a new toy then,” Kyungsoo says, smoking at lung cancer speed, “That’s all we’re ever good for anyway.”
He’s part of the big picture, coked up and slick.
The warehouse is in its usual illegal, crowded state with rebellious teenage dudes walking around in pricey leather jackets and designer tagged helmets in arms. Familiar faces reflect off gleaming motor bikes put on platform for money intimidation purpose, little kids who like to play the big league but not enough cash to make up for it.
And this is the empire Jongin built with his own two hands, the only thing he truly owns.
“We’re doing pretty well tonight.”
“Well?” Baekhyun chuckles dryly at Jongin’s statement. “Dude, this is fucking insane! By the end of tonight, I can buy myself a castle and throw in a couple of ponies.”
Suho’s distracted and turns at the sight of some flirtation smiling red head in a tight dress, whistling in appreciation. “And don’t forget the girls - all these lovely ladies piling up for us.”
Sehun rolls his eyes, blowing a perfect smoke ring. “They just want a free ride around town.”
“They can take me for a ride around the whole country if they’d like.” Baekhyun jokes, wagging his eye brows in suggestive manners. “Hey Jongin, do we still stock up on champagne around he -“
“Masters?”
Baekhyun groaned in frustration and seethes through gritted teeth, “How many times do I need to tell to people not to interrupt me when I’m talking?”
“Learn some manners,” Kyungsoo says, a curt hiss and turns to the anxious looking worker that had been debating with himself whether to interrupt their conversation for a while now. “What is it?”
The short and stout boy they’ve hired last month is on his toes, his face turning paler and paler after each and every word whispered to Baekhyun. Jongin watches from the corner of his eyes, lacking in interest and yawns out a ‘stop’ to server with a tray full of martinis. A group of junky girls crowding around the NCR in their less than decent dresses wave at him, giggling and Jong In grimaced in return, raising his glass in pretend acknowledgement.
“Jongin! Dude!”
“Yeah?” He responds lazily, being spun around by the hand on his shoulder. “What?”
Suho looks sober for the first time of the night with his nails leavings a mark on Jongin’s leather jacket, mumbles, “We’ve been robbed.”
Well, that’s new, Jongin thinks and chews on the olive.
“Right, shit got stolen, what’s the big deal?”
Kyungsoo looks like he’s about to burst a vein, bloodshot eyes twitching as he slams the table with the back of his hand with such force it sends Chanyeol jumping out of his seat in fear. “What’s the big deal? You ask what’s the big deal?!”
“Okay, dude,” Baekyun begins, too terrified to look up at Kyungsoo. “It’s not so much of a crisis. These things happen all the time when you’re in this kind of business.”
“He’s right, Kyungsoo,” Jongin adds and nod at Baekhyun in agreement. “Just find out which gang did it, give them a good scare, push ‘em around a little until they give back our stocks - all in its rightful condition and if not then,” Jongin pauses for a moment of pondering then shrugs, “cash.”
Suho props his feet up on the table, says, “Sounds simple enough.”
“It’s not.”
It’s three in the morning and the minute hand that belongs to a smashed face of a red clock, keeps on ticking. Chanyeol and Suho clowned around with the basketball too much and listened to Kyungsoo too little. It was in the morning on that day too, the sun just began to rise when the orange ball that Chanyeol threw, rebounded off the clock and left it with a cracked surface. Kyungsoo yelled a lot, as he usually does but he had fun, Jong In knew and so did all of them. Not today though - Kyungsoo didn’t laugh like that summer morning, harsh lines form on his face and he’s sweating like he forgot its winter.
Suddenly, Sehun who hasn’t spoken a word ever since the incident makes them all turn in their seats at his exaggerated sigh. “So the rumours are true, huh?
This makes him turn and questions everything, “What’s this about?”
At that question, Kyungsoo eyes Jongin warily and says in a small voice, “This isn’t a gang we’re dealing with.”
“If it’s not a gang then what is it?” Suho chuckles, blowing up the strawberry flavoured bubble-gum he’s been chewing on for the past hour. “Did Santa pay us a visit to steal all the presents back?”
“It was a one person job.”
Baekhyun stiffens, curses, “Oh fuck”
The clock stops ticking, it’s the beginning or the end, Jongin can’t tell anymore.
Jongin’s job is a simple one - he deals and when he deals, he is, to put it lightly, lying. The more people he fools, the more machines, the better the cash. It’s not a big part of the process but it is a significant one that requires certain skills such as a sincere smile that holds a certificate of authenticity.
His relationship with his father is in the worst condition possible but his words of wisdom remains with Jongin - “Doing dirty business means you always have to be ready for things to go wrong.”
They’re not prepared.
“You’re telling me,” Baekhyun pauses to take one deep breath to calm his nerve then, “That one, ONE person hacked through our security system and drove off with our most expensive Harley then called all his little friends up to collect the rest?”
“Yeah,” Sehun replies dully and sits forward slightly, “Basically.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
Kyungsoo turns away, growing more serious by the seconds and Jongin knows the older boy is seeing wasted money, as he is.
“So…” Jongin begins in a casual manner, shoving his hands in his pants’ pockets, “How do we get everything they’ve stolen back?”
Kyungsoo seems to contemplate over the rather straight forward question, pacing back and forth and trimming his finger nails with his teeth. He’s unstoppable and no one bothered to voice their displease opinions about his behaviour. He is the boss, the alpha male, he does what he wants, when he wants and the authority should not be challenged.
“I don’t want any shooting.” He says in a final tone. Baehyun mouth shuts close as quickly as it fell open, the argument is at the tip of his tongue but he knew better, like the rest of them. “We’ll play their game one of us will race against them for it, fair and square, if we lose everything then we lose everything but if we win, we win eve -“
“Oh so that’s your genius plan? Lose everything we’ve worked for?” Suho yells, shooting out all sorts of unnecessary comments he’s been holding in. “Yeah, have fun with that, Kyungsoo ‘cause I’m no -“
“I’ll do it.”
“How old are you kid?”
Smoke gets in Jongin’s eyes, answers, “Nineteen.”
The biker bums out his cig and looks up for the first time, eye scanning up and down his form. “I never see you ‘round before.” He pauses, crosses his arms then, “Your first time, kid?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re too young to die.” He states but sounding more like a warning as he points his tatts filled fore finger at Jongin’s chest. “Chances are, kid, you’ll die tonight. First round - won’t get shit back, won’t even make it home.”
He’s yet to experience any panic and continues on with the conversation, unafraid and calm. “How many times have you done this?”
“Enough time to know that I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
Kyungsoo had repeatedly nagged him to arrive early - these things are precise, he’d say like a prayer and here Jongin was, thirty mins later with loud, drunken hookers trying to make money along with an overwhelming amount of amateur racers. This is the coldest it has been in weeks and he shivers in Baekhyun’s denim bomber, toes freezing in his boots. They come in packs, in little clans of fast bikes with dirty aviators to shield the moon light and short skirts’ whores in the back.
The music is loud and messy, too many boom boxes fighting over each other and Jongin blocks it all out in order to keep sane. He’s never been in a place this rowdy, this wild, this crazy in a long while now. Can’t say he misses it, Jongin thinks and pulls out his flask, full to the brim with rum, takes a swig.
“Cheers” The biker murmurs, taking a sip out of his own.
Jongin laughs slightly at the inscription - fuck my liver. A nice reminder of the damage they’re doing to their health, living this way, but he know neither of them would have it any other way.
“Who’s the toughest to beat?”
The biker quirks an eyebrow. “You just don’t give up, do you?”
Jongin just shakes his head in response and keeps on drinking.
Tatts man glances down at his wrist watch and whispers, “Wait for it.”
The silence drags on for longer than he’d have liked before a group of bikers pull up near the badly drawn start line. The crowd seems to erupt into an animalistic growls just at the sight of those seven Harleys, lined up almost perfectly as they take their time with the dramatic entrance. The helmets come off and one by one, the crowd goes a bit crazier than the last.
“Look at the last one,” he mumbles to Jongin, as if he’s afraid that someone else will be able to hear him. “On the right.”
Long, glossy hair, brown eyes, scarlet painted lips.
“Now that,” the other man says with a sinful smirk, his finger tracing a line of her curves almost as if he could almost feel it under his fingertips, “Is the devil in disguise so if I were you, I’d be careful.”
He takes the advice and looks away.
She stays atop of the cherry red Ferrari like a sight to be admired and hums to the sound of men howling and sways to the engine’s lullaby.
Jongin feels unnerved, staring at her, at this point he looks away and goes back to dwelling on the
race.
“Bet you’re intimidated.”
He turns, strand of mussed hair falling in his eyes. It’s one of them; Jongin recognized and stare back at the curious eyes without so much of an ounce of emotion.
“She’s an exotic beauty, isn’t she?” The tall stranger says with a mocking edge, looming behind his back like a shadow. “Very lethal too.”
Jongin turns away, says, “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’m Kris and you?” He offers a hand, smiling like a Cheshire cat with a hidden intention.
“Kai”
“Kai, who?”
He hops on his bike with a small sigh, “Kai-I’m-about-to-beat-you-and-your-little-girlfriend.”
“Cocky, I see,” Kris laughs. “I’m not on tonight but Krystal and my other friend, Tao would be more than happy to show you a good time.”
“You know, there are a lot of people with a lot at stakes today. You and I and your gang, being the teeny tiny part of that crowd.” Jongin murmurs with a cig in his mouth and lighter held to it, “I can take care of myself, I can show myself a good time, no problem.” He says, inspecting his helmet for any signs of last minute repair. “You should worry about me taking care of your friends, Kris.”
Kris smiles a bitter one. “Just watch your back out there, Kai.”
They line up. Legs hitched over bikes, grip tight on throttle - like little boys and their toys, wroom wroom, here they go.
A pretty girl with long legs holds up a flag, smile harsh against the dark night. She winks her blue orbs at Jongin, a flirty notion which he accepts in a disinterest nod before closing his pro shield.
There’s a rush in racing - the guilty pleasure of having the thought of death encrypted deep at the back of your mind. The breathing being more of a challenge rather than nature because he knows, they all know, this might be their last so might as well take a big one.
“Hey, Kai.”
He hears a sultry voice from his right and it gets his full attention.
Her piercing gaze does something to him, he doesn’t know what it is. “Do you like to play games?”
Jongin doesn’t answer, only stare back at her even if she might not know it.
“How about a game of chase?”
Her shield is up and she’s off to the races - fast as a lighting, untameable like the vixen that she is.
She doesn’t play fair, he should have known, Jongin thought as he swerves pass from the corpse of the girl with long legs, so pretty lying in a pool of blood, national flag draped over her. A picture of tragedy Krystal has painted with her psychotic idea of fun.
Jongin speeds after her - a cat or mouse in this game, he no longer knows.
The traffic lights get in his eyes as his side mirror goes flying off the high way. The red bike crashes into him sideway and he crashes into the blue one head one, watching the driver fall of his bike with an earth shattering ‘thud’.
Jongin’s been at this for two hours and he’s yet to catch a sight of Krystal or the finish line. He’s
been constant with his forefront position, always unafraid to play the villain who eliminates the competitions in ways dirtier than one would ever expect. He knows the field and how it works as well as the back of his hands but there were no ebony tresses, no vampy presence - Krystal was missing and how can he accept her challenge when she won’t let him in the first place.
“Newbie!”
The blood red bike seems to be saying to him. It’s the face reflected in the kill machine that is speaking to him, the owner that’s been riding along his side that’s been doing nothing but dodging all the attacks aimed at him for hours now. The player’s without a helmet and Jongin figures he likes to play with fire.
“Talk” he yells back over the sound of multiple engines slowly closing in on them.
The boy with sharp jawline angles his Ducati closer, says in a hush voice that’s barely audible to either of them, “If you want your stocks back, turn right when you see the next crossroad.”
“How do I know you’re not lying just to put me off my game?”
He smiles a little too slyly, says, “You wouldn’t want daddy to find out you’ve lost his money makers when he gets back in the next month.” And speeds off, mercilessly pushing a stranger off his bike on his way down the road.
Kyungsoo has never been one to gamble but Jongin is so he takes himself to the unknown.
Always expect the unexpected, they say.
So Jongin takes his time to calculate all the risks he has put himself in when he races down an abandoned street. Just when he thinks he’s prepared for what’s to come, he catches a sight of what belongs in the warehouse, his warehouse.
There’s a lonely ancient lamp post - the last source of power, blinking its few last dying light, acting as a poor spotlight for the BMW. It’s a show that’s been put on for him, a ridiculed display of how good they’ve had it and now they don’t have anything at all. A shadow of the figure hiding behind the brick wall is monstrous in his eyes and its awaiting his arrival.
“I’ve been waiting for so long to see you again.”
Denim cladded leg appears under the orange tinted along with a doc martens’ boot which is soon joined by its pair. A slender form, so petite, so fragile yet so dangerous looking - the perfect portrayal of mystery and danger, Krystal, here they meet again.
Her skin is ivory, her lips are blood - an angel or the devil, how to distinguish?
“Why did you bring me here?”
Krystal giggles like a child, innocent and playful. “I like being a tease,” she says with a nonchalant shrug, stroking the side panel with her perfectly manicured index finger. “I like having what other wants more though.”
Jongin hops off his bike, eyes hard on the girl infront of him as he leans against his engine and crosses his arms. “Stealing can get you in trouble.”
Her smile fades within seconds. “Have we been introduced? I don’t think so.” She says with false enthusiasm and step towards him with ease, moving closer and closer until she’s in the darkness with him. “People know me as Krystal but my real name is Soojung.” It comes out as a breathy whisper against his lips, he inhales her scent and it’s just like poison. “I want you to call me Soojung. It's much more intimate. I like intimate."
And her arms are around his neck, nails clawing into his skin when he mutters his answer, “I don’t like intimate, especially not with enemies.”
She frowns and retreats, sighs and says, “Maybe next time then.”
“There won’t be a next ti -“
He is silenced with the feel of her lips against his own - the feel of her tongue prying open his darkest desire and he lets her. She tastes like a forbidden fruit, he wants more. His arm encircled around her waist, ridding off any space between them and ridding her of any air. The other tilting her head up for better access as he leaves bruising kisses down her neck and in return, receives a gutturals growl of pleasure from Krystal as she wraps her legs around his waist, wiggling against him for more.
“I want you,” she moans, “Now”
And that’s enough to make him slam her into a wall and onto his bike.
She presses a kiss against his ears and takes a much needed breath, “God, you’re hot.”
Krystal gets his engine running, literally.
“What are yo -“
“This,” she grunts, kicking back the side stand with full force and stepped on the gas, making him jump back in surprise. “Has been fun but we really should do this some other time, I’m on a time limit.”
“Fuck,” Jongin curses and runs for the BMW.
“See you soon.” Krystal shouts back her farewell, swiveling her head around for one last, triumphant grin. “Don’t miss me too much, yeah, Jongin?”
Well, the devil’s got a smile of an angel.
It’s Sehun who comes and gets him. It takes him three hours and four cigarette packs to locate Jongin.
“At least we got the BMW back.” Is the first thing he says and the last for the rest of the night.
That probably has something to do with the lipstick prints left all over him.
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