ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ

When your boss moved you to the graveyard shift, you were certain it was nothing short of a curse. The lack of sunlight you witnessed, the subsequent cost of vitamin D supplements, the inherent loneliness of living your whole life while the majority of your city slept.

There were certain benefits, however, once you gave yourself the time to adjust. Laundry, for example. On your days off, you were perfectly free to saunter down to the completely empty laundry room in your apartment building, which was a rare sight. In days long past, you’d had to fight tooth and nail for an opportunity to run a load of laundry, although you had found that the room was mostly empty come 3 in the morning. Key word: mostly.

There was a certain gentleman, who apparently lived in your apartment building, although you hadn’t ever seen him before your late-night laundry escapades. Now, however, he seemed to be a regular fixture in your life. You hadn’t yet figured out whether this was a benefit or drawback. In fact, you were having trouble figuring him out in general.

Soft brown hair, a little overgrown but he wore it well. Warm eyes, dark and shining, the kind you’d expect to see on a puppy. An air of confidence, the sense that he knew exactly who he was and what he was worth. Something about him… you just had to know more. He was a particularly interesting synopsis on the back of a novel, and you wanted to stay up all night reading him, cover to cover. You’d begun sharing smiles with the man, glances across the laundry room. Not that night, though.

That night, his rosy lips were pointed decidedly downwards in a frustrated pout, his eyebrows furrowed in a worried knot. There was something on his mind, that much was clear, and your mind ran wild, creating stories about what might be troubling him. He’d missed his stop on the bus home and ended up in a strange neighbourhood, and he was attempting to comprehend the oddities he’d witnessed. He was an undefeated chess master, and an upcoming champion was threatening his spot on the throne. His pet turtle hadn’t been eating her greens and he just couldn’t figure out why. None of those things, or perhaps all of those things.

“Fuck! For the love of god!”

The man’s cursing startled you from your daydreams, the impact of his shout causing you to drop the shirt you were holding. Even through your alarm, you found yourself thinking that he had a nice voice - even when he was yelling obscenities. You wondered how it would sound when he paid compliments, when he rambled about something he cared about, when poetry tumbled from his lips.

“Hey,” you called to him across the room, with all the bravery you could muster. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, although this clearly wasn’t the case. “I just can’t get this damn stain out.”

“Hm. What’s the stain?”

He lifted the shirt higher so that you could see it. A white t-shirt - well, you assumed it was once white. The condition of the fabric, when he pulled it from the washing machine, was a little less than ideal. A rusty stain covered the expanse of the material, red and brown. The man was far from happy - you could tell this wasn’t his first time battling this particular stain.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s ketchup?” he asked with a wry smirk. You couldn’t help but smile back at him - his sarcastic amusement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but feel that this was a frequent exchange for him. Not so much the laundry situation, but the smirk, making warmth blossom in the heart of a complete stranger.

You nodded. “Got it, no questions asked. Have you tried running a cold cycle? And do you wanna borrow some stain remover?”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he praised you. “Or at the very least, a shirt-saver.” You laughed at this; you wouldn’t have expected him to be so dorky. Or, upon reconsideration, maybe it was obvious. From the way his eyes glinted in the light. You swiftly closed your own machine, setting off the cycle, before gathering your equipment, your clothes-washing tools, and taking them over to the man.

“Here,” you said, taking the shirt from him and squirting the remover onto it. You walked him through the steps, rubbing the substance into the material before tossing it back into the machine and running a cold cycle.

“I’m Jungwoo, by the way. Apartment 127.” He held his hand out, and you shook it. Jungwoo, you thought, running his name through your mind. You wondered how it might taste, through laughter or in the dark.

“[Name]. Apartment 129.”

“No way,” he remarked. “We’re so close together - how haven’t we bumped into each other? Before recently, I mean.” It made you feel strangely special, the way he acknowledged your recent encounters with each other. Though you’d never spoken, he recognised you. He’d noticed you.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Well, actually - I just moved to the night shift.”

“That’ll be it,” he confirmed. “I’m a creature of the night, mainly.”

“Well, I’m gonna go. I have… stuff to do.” His pause intrigued you, but you let it slip. Jungwoo tapped the sign on the wall beside him, reading DO NOT LEAVE LAUNDRY UNATTENDED. “I won’t tell if you won’t. See you around, [Name].” With a wink, and a smile, he was gone.

*

Now that you had a name to the face, a voice to the man, a sliver of personality to the otherwise unknown figure, Jungwoo seemed to occupy your thoughts a lot more in the coming week. Hard as you tried to curb these thoughts - you barely knew the man, after all - but whenever you left your apartment, particularly when it was any later than 11pm, you found yourself looking for him. You scanned the hallways, crossed your fingers when the elevator doors opened, kept an eye on the door of apartment 127. It was all to no avail, however. You didn’t see Jungwoo once in the week following.

You’d almost given up hope entirely, or perhaps you were so weary and exhausted from your shift that even Jungwoo was far from your thoughts, which were solely focused on your warm, comfortable bed that you couldn’t wait to fall into. Birds were chattering away to one another, and you sincerely believed you’d never get used to falling asleep at seven in the morning. As you were scanning your way into the building, passing your key fob over the sensor, you noticed a figure behind you, in your reflection. The person was tall, though their identity was hidden by their hood, and fear flashed through you.

You really hoped this wasn't one of those horror stories - where a strange man gains entry to an apartment building where he doesn't belong, only to murder its inhabitants. You glanced backwards before you pulled the door open, only for your fear to lessen and your concern-slash-confusion to raise.

"Jungwoo?" you asked, peering at him. He was clearly trying to hide himself, but you knew it was him. You unrecognised his lips, and hoped that wasn't creepy, but what deterred you was the swelling around the left side of his jaw. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, [Name]. I'm fine." He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but winced as the action twinged his swollen features.

"You don't seem too fine," you commented, trying to peer at the rest of his face, under his hood.

"I've had worse," he shrugged, wincing again. "Look, can we go inside?"

You frowned, pulling open your apartment door before ushering him inside and pulling down his hood, acting fast and catching him unaware, only to gasp at the state of his face. Along with his swollen jaw was a black eye, and a gash across his forehead that had recently ceased its bleeding, judging by the dark, dried blood around the site of injury

"Oh my god, Jungwoo, what happened?"

"Listen, I said it's fine-"

"Come on, let me patch you up." You grasped his arm, marching him towards the elevator, and he got the message that his protesting was worthless and you wouldn't be taking no for an answer. Once in your apartment, you pulled a chair out from your kitchen table and pushed Jungwoo firmly down onto it, before digging the first aid kit out of your cupboard.

Jungwoo was silent through the whole affair, and you sensed that some of this was surprise. It didn't seem like he was used to this - being taken charge of, that was. He seemed like the type of guy who took charge of everything and everyone he encountered. Well, you supposed, he had met his match.

He was a good patient, and only flinched once, when you brushed his wounds with an antibacterial wipe. Finished your cleaning and bandaging, you leaned back against your kitchen counter, eyeing the man up. He said nothing, simply looking back at you with an undetectable look on his face. His lips were set in a straight line, though his eyes were soft.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked him eventually, breaking the silence. “I have decaf coffee, tea, hot cocoa-”

“Hot cocoa, please!” Jungwoo interrupted, looking excited all of a sudden, despite his injuries. You nodded, and went to prepare two hot cocoas. Silence fell again, and it was a strangely comfortable silence considering you were near-strangers.

“So,” you spoke after a few moments, “I know I said I wouldn't ask questions. But I did just fix your face, so I think you kinda owe me a little explanation.”

“Hey, hey. This face? Could never need fixing. You can’t fix perfection.”

You gave him a look. “You’re avoiding the subject, Jungwoo.”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I’m a street racer.”

You paused for a few beats, looking at him. Searching his face for any sign of amusement, waiting for a gotcha!

It didn’t come. “A street racer?”

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. He sounded genuine. You were left wondering whether he was, in fact, a street racer… or a pathological liar.

“You don’t look like a street racer,” was all you said, as you handed him his cocoa. He took a sip.

“Then, what do I look like?” he questioned. A model, you thought. Outwardly, however, you simply shrugged, and tried to hide your blush by taking a sip of your drink. “You can come see me in action if you want, baby. I’m racing again tomorrow night, midnight.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Follow a mysterious man, who I’ve found covered in blood on two separate occasions? Come on. Even to you, that must sound a little shifty.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “You’re the one who invited me into your home, baby.”

You sighed -  you couldn’t really fight him on that one. You wrapped your hands around your mug tightly. “I don’t know anything about you, Jungwoo. I don’t even know your last name-”

“Kim,” he interrupted. “Kim Jungwoo.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. Well I know your last name, now. But still. How do I know you’re even telling the truth?”

Jungwoo smiled, his lips twisting upwards in the corners in the most endearing way possible. He looked into your eyes. “[Name]. Darling. Why would I lie?”

You give him a cynical look. “Really, Jungwoo? There are some serious creeps out there. Creeps who tell many different lies for many different reasons. And none of them are good reasons.”

“Just trust me, okay? Take a leap of faith.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Most creeps weren’t this pretty. “A leap right into my arms,” he continued, stretching his arms wide as an invitation.

Snorting out a laugh, you delivered a shove to his shoulder. Gently - you didn’t know the extent of his injuries. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Midnight, right?”

“Midnight,” he confirmed. He smiled at you, in a way that you couldn’t help but smile back. “See you then.”

With that, he was gone, leaving you alone in your kitchen once more. Jungwoo always seemed to come and go, much like a tornado, leaving you shell-shocked and windswept in his wake. Street racing, hm? You shook your head to yourself. Just what were you getting yourself into?

*

As you didn't have a car, you didn't tend to visit your building's underground parking lot often. If you did, you were sure you would've noticed Jungwoo's car before. Cars didn't typically stand out to you - you weren't a car person. But even you had to admit, there was something impressive about the vehicle.

It sat low to the ground, vintage-looking, stark black with two contrasting white stripes running across the middle. You didn't know they still made cars like that; maybe they didn't, you considered. You found yourself wondering how it sounded when the engine ran, how it looked when Jungwoo sped down city streets inside it. You noted the sizable dent on the front bumper, and wondered just how bad his crash had been the previous night. Apparently not big enough to deter him, seeing that he got right back into the game, but perhaps that said more about Jungwoo than the size of the crash.

"What do you think?" Jungwoo asked, his smirk audible in his voice. This thing was clearly his pride and joy.

"I like it," you admitted honestly. It's cute, you tacked on, mentally. Though it was an honest compliment, you weren't sure it would go down well if you voiced it.

You smiled when Jungwoo opened the passenger-side door for you. It was nice learning things about him - he was a gentleman, you noted, someone who believed in chivalry.

"You aren't gonna speed with me in the car, right?" you asked as he settled into the driver's seat, only half joking.

He shook his head. "I put myself at risk when I drive. I wouldn't do the same to you, [Name]." You said nothing, but felt your heart swell.

“It’s just a twenty-minute drive, baby. This kinda stuff has to take place on the outskirts of the city.”

“Hey,” you remarked, your tone surprised, curious, but not hostile. “Why do you keep calling me baby?”

Jungwoo paused for a moment. He didn’t seem to have the answer any more than you did. “I don’t call everyone ‘baby’ y’know. I’m not one of those guys,” he noted your sceptical look, “Really.” He trained his gaze back towards the road, eyes pointed forwards. “Something about you… I don’t know, [Name]. I just have to call you baby.”

You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter wildly at that. You pulled your scarf up to hide the blush that flooded your cheeks. You'd spent far longer than you'd like to admit picking out your outfit. You weren't entirely sure what type of person he was yet, nor the crowd he raced with. Not that you were trying to impress anybody - that wasn't you, that wasn't what you did. You just didn't want to stand out too much.

The weather was warming but the nights were still cool. You'd gone for a light jacket, paired with your favourite scarf. Enough to keep you warm, but not so much that you were completely bundled up.

"This isn't a big race, by the way," Jungwoo shared. "I'm sorry I can't show you something more impressive."

"That's okay," you told him, and it was the truth. You were happy to be invited here regardless. "I've never seen street racing before, so I guess I'll be impressed by anything."

Jungwoo snickered. "You're cute."

The city lights passed by in red and white streaks, and you felt dazzled. Before long, Jungwoo was pulling into a parking lot on the outskirts of the city. It had a strange feel to it; you knew that, by day, this place was probably rather abandoned, seeing activity levels of zero, most days. But now, just after midnight, there was a thrum of energy, small as it were.

Streetlights shone onto the lot, revealing one other car, its door open. One figure stood beside the car, another sitting in the passenger's seat.

Jungwoo put the car in park, but paused and turned to you before getting out. "Hey, if you wanna go home at any point, just let me know. I'm your ride 'n stuff, so…"

You nodded. "Thanks."

"And, by the way, if you get scared, you can always hold your hand."

You scoffed. "Sure. You wish."

Jungwoo winked at you, and opened his door to climb out. "Maybe I do wish that," he murmured before swiftly moving on, not giving you enough time to react. "The door sticks, I'll come open it for you."

Jungwoo was flirty. But you didn't know what he was after. You didn't know how genuine he was. Sure, he'd invited you out here to watch him race with his friends, but how did you know he wasn't just doing it to get laid? Were you the first person he'd brought here? The second? The tenth?

You found yourself flustered as you looked up at him, climbing out of the car. You really had to stop overthinking every interaction between you two. You left the car and approached the other, sticking close to Jungwoo's side.

"Jungwoo," greeted the standing man with an inclination of his head, a happy grin on his face.

"Hey guys," Jungwoo grinned at the boys. "This is [Name], like I said."

"Hi," you waved politely.

"This is Yukhei and Sicheng," he indicated to his friends. You found yourself wondering, Are all street racers this beautiful?

Yukhei was tall, an overgrown golden retriever of a man, with kind eyes and tousled hair. His beauty was a warm and welcoming one, and you couldn't help but feel favourably towards him right away. Sicheng, sitting in the car, had a more elegant, delicate beauty, a slight smile and a curious gaze; something about him intrigued you. You weren't sure what you'd expected of a group of street racers, but this wasn't it.

"Let's get into it," Jungwoo declared, sounding fired up. His excitement was electric, you felt it in the air.

"Move it, babe," Yukhei instructed Sicheng, who left the car with a roll of his eyes.

"Look after [Name] for me, Sicheng," Jungwoo called out before getting back in his car.

"I'm sure [Name] can look after themselves," Sicheng responded, before turning to you. "You might want to step back for this, though."

You complied wordlessly, taking a few steps backwards. Jungwoo and Yukhei lined up their respective cars, revving their engines a little more ferocity than necessary. Sicheng stood in front of them, a piece of fabric in his hand that looked like a bandana. He raised it in the air. The tension was thick, anticipation weighing on your shoulders. Sicheng lowered the bandana, and in an instant the cars were gone, leaving behind a cloud of dust which you braced yourself against.

And then… silence. It felt a little anticlimactic, but it made sense when you thought about it; the boys were racing through a concrete jungle, obviously you couldn't observe the whole course. Sicheng let out a huge breath, a cathartic sigh. You realised that your own adrenaline was running high, and imagined that Sicheng's must be even higher, since the cars had rushed right past him, impossibly close.

"That's that," he commented, smiling at you. He came to stand beside you, and you watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a flask. "Cocoa," he said, before taking a swig. "Want some?"

You took it happily, enjoying the warmth that the sip instilled deep inside you. The night was a bit colder than you expected.

"So, you're Yukhei's-" the word boyfriend was on the tip of your tongue, but Sicheng interrupted before it could come out.

"No, no. We're just friends - he's my best friend. He's like a brother to me."

You nodded in understanding. "And you don't race?"

"Only idiots race," he said sagely, and you trusted his judgement; if the people he was closest to races, he would surely be an expert.

"I'll keep that in mind." You accepted the cocoa flask, when he offered it to you again.

"So, how do you know Jungwoo? He was very vague when he said he was bringing someone."

Your initial response, mentally, was I don't know him, not really. Although, you waved it away. It didn't feel true. "He's my neighbour. We haven't known each other long."

"He must like you," Sicheng remarked offhandedly.

"Well, I don't know about that," you denied, skeptical.

"He wouldn't have brought you here if you weren't special. This whole thing, the racing, it's all underground. You can get into a lot of trouble when you're caught."

You thought this over. Special. Of course, this was Sicheng's word, not Jungwoo's, but you wanted it to be true. It seemed more and more likely, the longer you dwelled on it; and you certainly had spent some time dwelling on it. He must've seen something in you, to invite you here. Maybe more than just bed-material. Maybe.

Minutes later, the two cars returned to the parking lot, almost side by side.

“I won that, for sure!” Yukhei yelled out of his open window.

“Yeah, for once,” Jungwoo contended. “C’mon, you’re showing me up in front of [Name]. They’re gonna think I’m a bad racer.”

“You’ll get it next time, Jungwoo,” you cheered him on with a smile.

Jungwoo and Yukhei raced a few more times, while you and Sicheng drank hot cocoa and cheered them on. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt more and more enthusiastic each time Jungwoo returned; you really got into the spirit of things. Jungwoo seemed to be the clear victor; he had won four races while Yukhei had only won one.

"Should we call it a night?" Jungwoo asked. "I'm starving." You had to admit, you were getting pretty hungry too. Upon checking your phone, you realised that a few hours had passed. You were so consumed in the excitement, in keeping score for Jungwoo, that you'd barely realised time was passing.

"I was thinking the same thing," Yukhei agreed. "We going to Aeja's?"

Jungwoo turned to you. "Are you up for that, [Name]?"

"Aeja's?"

"Aeja's diner," he elaborated. "The best apple pie you've ever tasted. Are you hungry? I can take you home, if you want."

Your stomach rumbled, as if answering the question for you, and you chuckled. "I'm famished."

You found yourself smiling when you got back into the car with Jungwoo. His presence was warm, and it felt good to be sitting next to him again.

“Are you having fun tonight?” Jungwoo asked you as he pulled out of the parking lot, following Yukhei’s car. “Sorry we haven’t really got to hang out yet. It can be kinda boring, watching people race.”

“No, I’m having fun,” you told him honestly. “This is exciting, and Sicheng’s been keeping me company; he seems nice.”

“I hope we can spend some more time together, [Name],” Jungwoo said, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you. “We should hang out again.”

“I’d like that,” you replied honestly.

The tinkle of the bell above the door was a light, welcoming sound when you stepped into the diner. It was a nice place, and though you'd never been there before, it somehow instilled a sense of warm nostalgia within you. Hardwood floors, neon lights, cracked red leather booths. It was like something out of a movie. It was empty, save for a bored-looking waiter behind the counter.

"You guys again? Really?" he drawled, but there was a teasing expression on his face. He had an angular jaw, chocolate-brown hair in a low ponytail, and a nametag reading Yuta.

"Hush. We keep you in business," shot back Sicheng, as the four of you found your seats in a booth.

"You're right," the waiter - Yuta - conceded. "Manager's talking about shutting this place up at 10 every night." He came around the counter, joining you at your table.

"Don't you dare," threatened Yukhei, sounding deeply devastated at the prospect of new opening hours.

"It's not up to me, bro," Yuta raised his hands in surrender, seeming amused.

"I need this place," Yukhei iterated.

"Yeah, yeah. What do you want?" Yuta pulled a notebook and pencil from the pocket in his apron, ready to take your orders.

Jungwoo, Yukhei and Sicheng all knew what they wanted immediately, being regulars at the diner, so you just followed Jungwoo’s lead and ordered a burger and fries, with a milkshake.

Yukhei folded his arms onto the table, leaning towards you. “So. Did Jungwoo tell you about the big race?”

You looked to Jungwoo in question. “Big race?”

Jungwoo nodded in confirmation. “In a few weeks. That’s what we’re practicing for right now.”

“Million won prize,” Yukhei interjected.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “A million? Where does the money even come from?”

“Gambling, mostly,” Jungwoo explained. “A lot of people bet on the organised races.”

“Your Jungwoo’s the favourite for this upcoming race - three to one.”

You dismissed Yukhei’s remark of your Jungwoo, instead focusing on his claim of Jungwoo’s capability. “Woah, really?” He looked bashful when he met your gaze, and you had to admire the fact that he hadn’t bragged about this to you; you’d met far too many boys who boasted and gloated about their many triumphs, talking themselves up in a completely unnecessary and unlikable way. Jungwoo wasn’t one of these boys, it seemed.

“It’s not like this is a huge race,” he explained. “I only stand out locally. Plus, I have some pretty strong competition in this guy Jaehyun.”

“This is so crazy,” you expressed. “This whole street racing thing, I mean. It’s all been happening right under my nose and I had no idea. I didn’t even know it existed, really. I kind of thought it was just a movie thing.”

“It’s very real, baby,” Jungwoo assured you. You had to admit, you weren’t at all mad about the pet name he’d assigned to you; your heart fluttered each time the word passed his lips.

Yuta returned with your food, and you all tucked in. The boys hadn’t been exaggerating about the quality of this place - the fries were heavenly, the burger not too greasy.

“You know what they say about street racing, right?” Sicheng asked you, and you looked at him inquisitively. “Street racing started when they made the second car.” You smiled at the charming proverb.

“Drive fast and leave a sexy corpse, that’s my motto,” Yukhei said, around a mouthful of burger. Jungwoo snorted out a laugh, and Sicheng rolled his eyes though he was clearly amused. You caught Jungwoo’s gaze, and your own laughter doubled. There was a certain happiness that erupted within you, whenever you made eye contact with the boy.

You had to admit, this night was the most fun you’d had in a long time. You hadn’t met up with any friends in a while, now that you were a night owl, and you appreciated the way these three boys accepted you into their circle.

*

It was almost instantaneous, the switch in your life from loner to social butterfly. You began spending your nights with Jungwoo, Yukhei, and Sicheng, either racing, hanging in the diner, or otherwise exploring the city. You and Jungwoo had grown close, faster than you would’ve expected. He set off fireworks in your heart, stars erupting whenever you closed your eyes.

“What did you do before I came along?” you asked Sicheng as he poured you a cup of hot cocoa, in the parking lot that had grown incredibly familiar. “This must be so boring on your own.”

“I didn’t come to watch them race often,” Sicheng said. “I come to the big races, and we hang out a lot anyways - it’s not easy to find other people who are pretty much nocturnal. But Jungwoo asked me to come along to keep you company that first night.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. You supposed this was a new routine for more than just you.

“Oh, shit,” Sicheng muttered suddenly, looking past you. You turned to see red flashing lights, a police car cruising by silently.

“That’s bad, right?” you asked Sicheng, your heart spiking with nerves.

“It’s not good,” he confirmed, grimacing.

“What’ll happen if they’re caught?”

“They’ll probably get taken down to the station,” he explained. “After that, who knows.” Sicheng seemed worried, going by the tense look on his face, and his agitation was contagious. A sense of panic began to set in, and you chewed your lip anxiously.

“If they realise cops are patrolling before they’re caught, they should manage to get away okay,” he said, and you nodded in understanding.

After a few minutes, a few tense and painful minutes, a car rolled into a parking lot - Yukhei’s. He drove to you and Sicheng, parking up and climbing out.

“Where’s Jungwoo?” were the first words that passed your lips, urgent and hurried.

“Hiding out, I hope,” Yukhei responded, running a hand through his hair. “Fucking cop car, patrolling. We split when we saw it.”

Your worries weren’t eased in the slightest. “I’ll try texting him.” When you pulled your phone out of your pocket, you realised your hands were shaking.

Are you okay??? you tapped out, as quickly as you could. Moments passed. “He’s not replying,” you exhaled.

“Don’t worry, okay? It could mean he’s on the road, driving back here,” Yukhei said.

“It could also mean he’s been caught,” Sicheng mentioned. You saw Yukhei shoot him a look that said not helping.

Yukhei patted you on the shoulder. “Jungwoo’s survived much closer calls than this, alright? He’s tough. He’ll be fine.”

Though it felt like hours had passed, it had only been eight minutes, and you knew this precisely as you’d been checking your phone for messages the whole time. When the hum of Jungwoo’s engine neared, and he arrived at the parking lot, you audibly gasped. He jumped out of his car, and the sight of him, unscathed, brought relief that was almost overwhelming. You ran to him, hugging him tightly.

“Hey, hey, I’m alright. It’s okay,” Jungwoo reassured you with a surprised laugh, wrapping his arms around you. You pulled away, feeling shy all of a sudden, though Jungwoo kept a hold on you, arm wrapped around your waist.

“You think there was a leak?” Jungwoo asked.

“Maybe,” Yukhei responded with a shrug.

“A leak?” you asked. “What do you mean?”

“The police may have gotten word that there’s a race planned here. They don’t usually patrol this area,” Jungwoo explained, still holding you close.

“That’s what makes it a perfect racing spot,” Yukhei added. “No speed cameras, no police.”

Jungwoo sighed. “Let’s just call it quits for tonight, yeah? I’ll talk to Johnny tomorrow, see what he knows.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Yukhei agreed. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

“C’mon, baby,” Jungwoo said, ushering you to his car.

The ride home was strangely silent. You didn’t think it had ever been this quiet between the two of you, not since your laundry room days. When Jungwoo parked up in the garage, he paused before getting out of the car, turning to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a comforting hand on your knee. “You okay?” You simply nodded, eyes trained on your lap. “Look at me,” he said, and you did. His eyes were wide, genuine concern evident in his expression.

“I was really worried about you tonight,” you explained, and he smiled.

“I know,” he said gently. “That’s not something I’m used to, y’know? There usually isn’t anyone to worry about me like this.” His voice didn’t call for pity. If anything, he sounded amused by your outburst.

“I don’t know what came over me. I was terrified for you, Jungwoo.”

His smile turned into more of a smirk. “Maybe you just care about me, baby.”

“I do. I really do.” Your heart was racing, pounding at an alarming rate. Looking at Jungwoo, this hurricane of a man who had stormed his way into your life, you felt something you couldn’t explain. You wanted to be close to him, to stay close to him forever. When he slowly leaned in, you closed your eyes and waited for his lips to find yours.

They were soft - softer than you would’ve expected. His touch was light as a feather when he cupped your cheek. Your hands went to him automatically, settling on his body as though they were always supposed to be there; your left landing on his shoulder, your right flat on his chest. Jungwoo deepened the kiss without hesitation, sliding his tongue past your lips and using it expertly. A small moan emerged from within you, and Jungwoo pulled away before things got any more intense. You were left panting slightly, adrenaline coursing through you.

“I care about you too, for the record,” Jungwoo stated, and you smiled, shaking your head in amusement.

“Do you want to come to my apartment?” you invited him.

“I’d love to.”

*

You awoke as the sun was setting, golden rays filtering through your curtains. You blinked yourself awake, eyes adjusting to the room. Jungwoo was sitting at the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone. You smiled to yourself, admiring his frame, the wide expanse of his shoulders. You noticed his eyebrows tied together, frustration etched into his features, and wondered just what he was looking at.

“Morning,” you greeted him sleepily, before amending, “Evening.”

“Hey, baby,” he replied, expression softening into a kind smile once he saw that you were awake. “You sleep well?”

You nodded. “Everything okay?”

Jungwoo laughed, a stressed chuckle, as he ran his hand through his hair. “One of our message boards was infiltrated - everything’s coded, but we can’t take any risks, especially not after last night. We’re gonna have to change the location of the race.”

“Oh no,” you said with a frown, moving to sit beside him. He lifted his arm, and you cuddled into his side, savoring his warmth. You tried hard not to smile to yourself, given Jungwoo’s unfortunate situation. You hadn’t realised just how much you’d craved his touch until you got it, and now you’d gotten a taste, you never wanted to let go.

Jungwoo groaned. “This is gonna throw me off, big-time.”

“But it’ll throw everyone else off, too. That could be a bonus,” you pointed out.

“You’re right,” he agreed, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “Plus, I have you now. My good luck charm.”

You smiled into the warm skin of his bare chest. This was a big obstacle, very close to the race. But, even with your very limited knowledge on the subject, Jungwoo seemed like a very competent racer. You knew he’d push through this.

*

The boys hadn't been exaggerating about the sheer energy these big races brought. There was an electricity in the air, and you felt inexplicably giddy, as though all your hairs were standing on end.

Floodlights shone down on the parking lot - not the one you'd been visiting, unfortunately, but a revised location on the other side of the city. The place was swarming, a whole crowd of people packed into the lot. Around fifty, if you had to estimate. Drinking, laughing, preparing. You didn't know what you'd expected, in terms of demographics, but you were surprised. People from all walks of life were here; punks with brightly coloured mohawks, men who wouldn't look out of place as lawyers or accountants, some of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. It seemed that the art of street racing was seductive to all types of people.

You clutched Jungwoo's hand as you looked out at everyone, standing beside his trusty car. You knew he was nervous, but he didn't show it. He smiled down at you, giving your hand a squeeze.

"You're gonna do amazing," you reassured him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I know," he said, hints of a smirk on his lips. He looked past you suddenly, scowling. "Who let you in here?"

You turned to see a man approaching, a smug look plastered on his face. He was tall, as tall as Jungwoo, and handsome. Though his charm was different to Jungwoo’s; where Jungwoo was pretty, puppy-dog eyes and a bright smile, Jaehyun was angular, cocky grin and dark eyes.

“Could ask the same about you,” he shot back. “You ready to get your ass kicked?”

Jungwoo sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “Don’t try to trash talk me, Jaehyun. It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not gonna be the one who’s embarrassed, Kim,” Jaehyun denied. “See you out there.”

“You won’t see me, man,” Jungwoo called out to him as he walked away. “You’ll be left behind in my dust.” Jaehyun failed to reply, only shooting Jungwoo the middle finger behind his back. Jungwoo snorted in laughter.

“So, that’s Jaehyun?” you asked. You’d heard about him, from Jungwoo and the others. He was one of the only racers who was on Jungwoo’s level, his biggest competitor. He’d won the last race, and Jungwoo was determined to take back the crown.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Jungwoo nodded. “Nasty piece of work, right?”

“Yeah, awful,” you agreed with a laugh - it wasn’t serious. The two of them were rivals, that much was evident, but you sensed a great deal of respect between them, without a doubt. They challenged each other, pushed each other to be better, and it seemed that they appreciated each other for that.

An air horn sounded suddenly, and you grasped Jungwoo’s hand a little tighter in surprise. He grinned at you, and you laughed as your cheeks heated. You were just so excited, so worked up, that it made you jumpy. “That’s the signal, babe,” Jungwoo explained. “Kiss for good luck?” You complied, giving him one last lingering kiss.

You reconvened with Sicheng, watching as Jungwoo and Yukhei got in their cars and drove towards the starting line. There were six cars, in total, with Jungwoo, Yukhei, and Jaehyun accounting for three of them. Yukhei’s nimble red car stood out among the bunch; Jaehyun’s was a deep blue, bigger than Yukhei or Jungwoo’s; however Jungwoo’s was certainly the most impressive of the bunch, with her stark white stripes. You could have been biased, though.

Your heart was pounding. With nerves, with excitement, possibly even a bit of fear. This was racing - real racing. You knew how dangerous it could get. After all, you’d fixed up Jungwoo’s injuries yourself. And, really, he was lucky to get away that lightly.

The parking lot was near silent as the cars lined up. You and Sicheng stood, a few metres away from the line of cars. You looked at Jungwoo, through his windshield. There was a look on his face, determined and excited, that made your heart flutter.

You’d never felt a silence so heavy, never heard a silence so loud. It was as though every single person was holding their breath. The tension sunk its sharp, jagged teeth into your skin, and you dug your nails into your palm.

“On your marks,” boomed a voice, amplified by a megaphone.

“Get set.” Engines revved.

“Go!”

Almost the instant the word had been uttered, the cars had sped off, leaving no trace behind. The crowd erupted, whooping and cheering. Sicheng pulled you into a hug, and you laughed as you held him close. There was a certain high that came from this, an adrenaline rush. You could barely even imagine how Jungwoo must be feeling, flying down the streets at lightning speed.

“You look nervous,” Sicheng commented, the corner of his mouth lifting. You gave him a small smile in response. “Jungwoo knows what he’s doing,” he reassured you, and you nodded. This felt so reminiscent of the times you’d spent with Sicheng, waiting for Jungwoo and Yukhei to finish racing, drinking hot cocoa and laughing together. Though it also felt wildly different. There was something riding on this race; Jungwoo’s pride and a lot of money. Your heart was pounding. A month ago you’d never spared a thought for street racing, and now? You’d give anything for one man to win this race.

The race was a little longer than what Jungwoo and Yukhei had been practicing - or maybe it only felt that way because you were sitting on the edge of your metaphorical seat. You could hear them, in the distance. An unmistakable low rumbling, thrumming through the asphalt. It grew louder, the cars drew nearer. You reached for Sicheng’s hand, clutching it tightly as butterflies raged in your stomach. You stepped forwards, peering down the street. You saw the headlights in the distance, as they turned onto the stretch of road. Sicheng gripped your shoulder, pulling you back gently from harm’s way, and you chuckled, a little embarrassed at your anxious enthusiasm.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen cars move that fast - in fact, you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything move that fast. You barely had time to blink, as Jungwoo and Jaehyun’s vehicles, a blur of black and navy, raced ahead of the others, appearing in front of you within an instant.

A screech, a deafening crashing sound, and a hoard of gasps met your ears all at once. If it weren’t for Sicheng’s grasp on your hand, you would’ve ran directly into the line of oncoming cars. “Jungwoo!” you heard yourself cry out, and although it was your voice, it sounded distant, far away.

“Hey, hey, [Name],” Sicheng said, pulling you closer to him. “He’s okay, Jungwoo’s okay.” His words were meant to soothe you, but his voice was still tinged with worry. You blinked, looking out at the scene in front of you.

The other cars whizzed by, driving past the wreck that Jaehyun’s car had become. Jungwoo had been the clear winner, as Jaehyun’s car had skidded off-course just a short distance from the finish line. The bumper had been dented, the metal crumpling as though it were paper. You watched as Jaehyun stumbled out of the driver’s side, mostly unscathed. A group of people ran to him, now that the cars had stopped flying by, carrying first aid kits, but you paid them no attention. You shrugged free of Sicheng’s grasp, running to where Jungwoo had stopped.

You caught sight of his car, dented along one side, and tears sprang to your eyes. Jungwoo climbed out when he saw you coming, and you held him at arm's length, looking over him frantically. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely rising above a whisper.

“Baby, baby, I’m fine,” Jungwoo breathed, pulling you into a hug.

“Jaehyun,” you uttered. “He-”

Jungwoo pulled back, kissing your forehead. “He’s okay,” he assured you. You followed his gaze to Jaehyun, whose forehead was being wiped by a makeshift medic. He gave the two of you a thumbs up, and Jungwoo waved back.

“You won,” you stated, looking back to Jungwoo.

“Yeah,” Jungwoo laughed. “I guess I did.”

“You don’t sound very happy,” you pointed out, caressing his cheek lightly.

“It doesn’t feel right - I feel like I’ve won unlawfully, y’know? I only won cause Jaehyun crashed-”

“Maybe, but you don’t know that for sure,” you told him. “You won, and that’s that.” Jungwoo sighed, and you kissed him.

An air horn sounded, and you jumped yet again. Jungwoo laughed. “That’s for me, babe.”

“And the winner is Kim Jungwoo,” called out the voice, crackly through the megaphone. Jungwoo raised his hands in victory, as a scatter of applause rang out for him.

“A million won, huh?” you said. “What you gonna spend it on?”

“Fixing up my car, probably,” he sighed, looking back at the dent in his vehicle. “And I might take my baby on vacation.”

"Jungwoo?" you asked, peering at him. He was clearly trying to hide himself, but you knew it was him. You unrecognised his lips, and hoped that wasn't creepy, but what deterred you was the swelling around the left side of his jaw. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, Y/N. I'm fine." He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but winced as the action twinged his swollen features. 

"You don't seem too fine," you commented, trying to peer at the rest of his face, under his hood. 

"I've had worse," he shrugged, wincing again. "Look, can we go inside?"

You frowned, pulling open your apartment door before ushering him inside and pulling down his hood, acting fast and catching him unaware, only to gasp at the state of his face. Along with his swollen jaw was a black eye, and a gash across his forehead that had recently ceased its bleeding, judging by the dark, dried blood around the site of injury 

"Oh my god, Jungwoo, what happened?"

"Listen, I said it's fine-"

"Come on, let me patch you up." You grasped his arm, marching him towards the elevator, and he got the message that his protesting was worthless and you wouldn't be taking no for an answer. Once in your apartment, you pulled a chair out from your kitchen table and pushed Jungwoo firmly down onto it, before digging the first aid kit out of your cupboard. 

Jungwoo was silent through the whole affair, and you sensed that some of this was surprise. It didn't seem like he was used to this - being taken charge of, that was. He seemed like the type of guy who took charge of everything and everyone he encountered. Well, you supposed, he had met his match.

He was a good patient, and only flinched once, when you brushed his wounds with an antibacterial wipe. Finished your cleaning and bandaging, you leaned back against your kitchen counter, eyeing the man up. He said nothing, simply looking back at you with an undetectable look on his face. His lips were set in a straight line, though his eyes were soft.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked him eventually, breaking the silence. “I have decaf coffee, tea, hot cocoa-”

“Hot cocoa, please!” Jungwoo interrupted, looking excited all of a sudden, despite his injuries. You nodded, and went to prepare two hot cocoas. Silence fell again, and it was a strangely comfortable silence considering you were near-strangers.

“So,” you spoke after a few moments, “I know I said I wouldn't ask questions. But I did just fix your face, so I think you kinda owe me a little explanation.”

“Hey, hey. This face? Could never need fixing. You can’t fix perfection.”

You gave him a look. “You’re avoiding the subject, Jungwoo.”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I’m a street racer.”

You paused for a few beats, looking at him. Searching his face for any sign of amusement, waiting for a gotcha! 

It didn’t come. “A street racer?”

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. He sounded genuine enough. You were left wondering whether he was, in fact, a street racer… or a pathological liar.

“You don’t look like a street racer,” was all you said, as you handed him his cocoa. He took a sip.

“Then, what do I look like?” he questioned. A model, you thought. Outwardly, however, you simply shrugged, and tried to hide your blush by taking a sip of your drink, which was far too hot. “You can come see me in action if you want, baby. I’m racing again tomorrow night, midnight.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Follow a mysterious man, who I’ve found covered in blood on two separate occasions? Come on. Even to you, that must sound a little shifty.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “You’re the one who invited me into your home, babe."

You sighed -  you couldn’t really fight him on that one. You wrapped your hands around your mug tightly. “I don’t know anything about you, Jungwoo. I don’t even know your last name-”

“Kim,” he interrupted. “Kim Jungwoo.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. Well I know your last name, now. But still. How do I know you’re even telling the truth?”

Jungwoo smiled, his lips twisting upwards in the corners in the most endearing way possible. He looked into your eyes. “Y/N. Darling. Why would I lie?”

You give him a cynical look. “Really, Jungwoo? There are some serious creeps out there. Creeps who tell many different lies for many different reasons. And none of them are good reasons.”

“Just trust me, okay? Take a leap of faith.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Most creeps weren’t this pretty. “A leap right into my arms,” he continued, stretching his arms wide as an invitation.

Snorting out a laugh, you delivered a shove to his shoulder. Gently - you didn’t know the extent of his injuries. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Midnight, right?”

“Midnight,” he confirmed. He smiled at you, in a way that you couldn’t help but smile back. “See you then.”