fallen leaves
01.
on the precipice of defeat;
kris/suho; pg-13; Tokyo Ghoul!au
warning: blood and mentions of murder
☆ originally posted here.
The stagnant atmosphere in the dark neighborhood did nothing to calm Junmyeon’s nerves. He dragged himself across the small alley that led straight to his apartment complex. He was trembling, whole body still shaking despite the newfound energy surging through his entire system after the feeding.
He reeked of blood. He should be used to the smell but no matter how hard he tried, the supposedly-sweet scent always threw him off. It reminded him of his true nature, his origin. He was disgusted at himself.
As he passed by a huge dumpster, he got rid of his jacket, grimacing as splotches of darkening thick liquid met in contact with his fingers. He sighed, trying his best to dispose of the evidence. Nobody would find out but he still had to be extra careful, especially with the increasing number of the Doves roaming up and about the city lately.
Junmyeon breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he was in the confinement of his single room apartment. He maneuvered himself in the darkness, heading immediately to the bathroom to wash himself. When he was done, he chugged down a can of beer, feeling slightly better. The beer tasted filthy as usual but at least it got rid of the aftertaste of the blood lingering on his taste buds.
Something caught in the periphery of Junmyeon’s vision and he whirled around, letting out a hiss on reflex. Bright light flooded his sight and he squinted slightly, trying to make out the tall silhouette standing before him.
“Junmyeon,” a voice he’d been wanting to hear for the past week reverberated across the small kitchen and rang in his ears. “It’s me, Yifan.”
“Yifan?” he echoed, his breath still painfully hitching. When he fully registered the warm smile and even warmer eyes directed at him, he lunged at the other man. “Yifan!”
Yifan laughed as he stumbled a little. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, feeling warmth radiating through their bodies. “I missed you so much,” he whispered.
Junmyeon peeled himself off Yifan, looking into the other’s dark orbs. He was silent for a long while before blurting out, “I just fed.”
Yifan’s smile was unwavering when he replied, “You look much better now. I’d be more worried if you kept starving yourself and-”
“I killed somebody!” Junmyeon cut Yifan off, pushing the latter away from him. He plopped himself on the couch, burying his face in his hands. “I fed on a person tonight…”
Yifan settled beside Junmyeon and gently took the other’s hands, squeezing them in his. “Junmyeon, we talked about this before. It’s not your fault.”
“I’m a fucking ghoul, Yifan!” Junmyeon snapped, his eyes welling up with tears. “I’m a monster that feeds off innocent people.”
“Shh…” Yifan shushes him and immediately enveloped him in his arms. “No more of this, okay, Junmyeon? You’re a ghoul, you can’t starve yourself anymore. You have to feed.” Yifan pulled away and held his gaze on Junmyeon’s. “You’re also Junmyeon, and I love you.”
Junmyeon’s lips twitched a little as he turned away. “You idiot. One day, I could have eaten you, you know,” he muttered, voice stooping low.
“Junmyeon.”
When Junmyeon turned back, Yifan’s breath caught in his lungs. The other’s eyes were pitch black, like an entrance to the deepest, darkest abyss, and his irises - they were scarlet, burning like flame. Yifan clenched his jaw as he stared right into Junmyeon’s orbs.
“I’m not very good at controlling myself, Yifan,” Junmyeon whispered, melancholy fully evident in his hoarse voice. “I’m truly scared. What if, while we’re sitting like this, my hunger kicks in? Your scent is exceptionally enticing.” Junmyeon crawled into Yifan’s lap and nuzzled at the blond’s neck. “Very enticing.”
Silence hung in the air like heavy smog that veiled the city of Seoul. For a few moments, the weight of silence itself was almost suffocating, the surrounding white noise almost deafening.
“That’s fine with me,” Yifan said.
Junmyeon’s eyebrows knitted together. “What?”
Yifan’s large hand ruffled at Junmyeon’s floppy hair as he grinned at him. “I said, that’s fine if it were you. You’re a ghoul, and I’m a human. We shouldn’t be sitting like this, having almost normal conversations but then we did. We’re one heck of a contradiction. I guess there must be a price for this miracle to happen, for us to happen.”
Junmyeon whimpered, burying his face at the crook of Yifan’s shoulder. His eyes turned back to normal, albeit still a little puffy. “You’re so fucking weird, you lowly human.”
Yifan chuckled as he held Junmyeon against him. “Well, I’m your human.”
Junmyeon smiled. Yifan had always been a little different but then, he supposed, he was too. He was a ghoul, and Yifan was a human; the fact would never change and so did his love for the blond man. If there was anything that would hurt Yifan, Junmyeon wouldn’t hesitate to fight.
“Hey, Junmyeon,” Yifan suddenly said. “I think you need a bath. You stink.”
Junmyeon took a deep breath. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
02.
up above the clouds;
(exo/red velvet) suho/irene; g; fluff
☆ originally posted here.
“Your hair smells wonderful.”
Joohyun glows at the impromptu comment. She doesn’t have to look up to know that Junmyeon is gazing at her at the moment. She feels Junmyeon nosing at her hair and her scalp tingles at the slight touch. She tucks her head closer under his chin, welcoming the other’s gesture silently.
They are sitting on the rooftop of the building after long hours of practice and rehearsals. The space between their heated bodies is long gone as they fit in to each other; Junmyeon’s arm around her waist and her head resting on his shoulder. Junmyeon’s free hand is toying with the strands of her hair that splay across his chest. Joohyun sighs in content as he moves to tuck a wild strand behind her ear.
“It’s so tiring,” she whines softly. “My legs feel like they’re coming off.”
Junmyeon chuckles. “Let me carry you, then.”
“Oh? Then I will cling to you like a koala and you’ll have to carry me forever.”
“My legs will be falling off then!”
Joohyun laughs. Junmyeon’s smile breaks out into a wide grin before the sound of their tinkling laughter cuts through the silent night. Junmyeon pulls her closer and she gives in, fatigue draining out of her body in an instant. It still amazes her how even the smallest of his gesture never failed to make her feel at ease when she struggles to keep standing on her two legs. Neon lights from commercial billboards that proudly stand atop Seoul skyscrapers stare at them, outshining the blinking stars that scatter across the sky.
Joohyun lets out a yawn as she feels drowsiness gnawing at her mind.
“Joohyun?”
Joohyun hums in acknowledgement. Junmyeon smiles fondly as he notices that Joohyun is almost dozing off, snug against his shoulder. He plays with her fingers, trying to make her stay awake.
“Let’s go home, noona,” he says suddenly, mirth lacing his voice as he stresses the last word of his sentence. He tries not to laugh at the look on Joohyun’s face.
Joohyun puffs her cheeks in mild annoyance, now completely awake. She rolls her eyes, knowing that Junmyeon always, always finds it amusing whenever she reacts to his antics.
“Fine, seon.bae.nim,” she retorts and squirms to escape his hold.
Junmyeon makes an embarrassing yelping noise as she tugs him hard, pulling him to his feet. She giggles at the flush blossoming on his cheeks before tiptoeing to peck at his lips. Junmyeon blinks, and in his daze, he realizes that she has run off downstairs, the door to the rooftop slamming shut behind her.
Junmyeon grins to himself, trailing after her. He will pay back her favor, he thinks, as he catches sight of the pink strands of her hair dancing across her back.
03.
liquid & metal;
kai/sehun; pg; motoGP!au
Dark clouds lumber lazily across the usually sunny Aragon sky. The tracks are gradually shadowed by the marching clouds and the crowds seem to tone down at the sudden weather change.
Jongin stares at the sky, tipping up his baseball cap in the process. To be frank, he’s thankful if it rains a little today. Aragon has been a bit too hot for him even though he used to complete practice sessions under the unforgiving heat of Doha. He observes the circuit from the paddock. Yesterday’s practice session was too much for him; the heat getting up to his head quicker than the brake rotors of his motorcycle. He was lucky that he managed to wrap up the last few laps, even positioning in Top 10. He’s pretty confident he’ll place better in today’s qualifying rounds, given that the scorching sun is going easy on him.
His eyes wander around. He spots Sehun, his teammate, lounging on a small chair all ready in his rider suit. The younger rider looks calm and composed, barely showing any emotion. Jongin knows Sehun the longest. He knows that Sehun is more than cool demeanor and stoic expression. He is always nervous before a race. Jongin is rather ashamed to admit it himself, but he envies the way Sehun just lets his adrenaline take over his body. Sehun that he sees right before a race is not the same Sehun that becomes one with the circuit once the red lights go out.
“We’re starting in an hour, Jongin. Go get changed,” Junmyeon, the team manager urges him.
Sehun looks up from his position and gives Jongin a small smile. Jongin returns the favor before quickly scurrying towards the changing room.
Jongin approaches Sehun once he’s done changing. He bumps his shoulder against the latter’s lightly to gain his attention. Each clad in a leather suit that boldly displays the team’s name alongside many other endorsement brands, they stand next to each other in silence, holding a helmet by the hip.
‘Sehun must be thinking too much again,’ he muses as he clasps a hand on the other’s shoulder.
“Think you can beat me?”
Sehun’s lips pull up into a smirk. “You should worry about yourself more. Get past Hayden before thinking of beating me.”
“As if. I know you’re still not over Lorenzo getting the podium in the last session,” Jongin pokes.
Sehun’s lips pull into a pout. “Can’t believe that he’s just a rookie.”
Jongin laughs. Sehun makes a huffing noise but says no more. They’re the only static figures in the middle of the paddock. Each member of the on-track pit crew from the team manager to the bike technicians buzzes with energy, shuffling to and fro the pit-box. Junmyeon looks the busiest, shouting instructions and making sure everything is going as scheduled.
“The machines are ready!” Chanyeol, the team’s engineer yells from the pit-box.
Jongin and Sehun strut towards the motorhome station. Two yellow and black Yamaha YZR-M1 racing bikes stand proudly in the garage, adorning their rider’s respective number. The bikes are brought onto the tracks and the crowds begin to cheer from the grandstand as their favorite riders appear.
The race starts smoothly. Sehun has a front-row start - which gives him a much better chance to rank due to his excellent performance during practice sessions - and Jongin gets to start from the sixteenth position on the grid. Sehun fires away, taking the hole-shot at the first corner, surpassing two other riders from their rival teams who are trailing close behind him. His number - ‘94’ - boldly stares from the front, emblazoned on his leather suit.
The first crash happens at the second hairpin when a Japanese rider loses control of his machine and goes down, crashing straight onto the asphalt. Two other riders who are unable to avoid the mishap are brought down along with their bikes. Jongin barely misses the contact and gets a hold of himself as he continues to rev up.
‘Four more laps,’ Jongin thinks to himself when he sees Baekhyun flashing an LED board from the pit wall as he passes by. He’s pretty confident he will at least manage a Top 10 position, and he’s sure Sehun will-
He’s reaching a corner when he spots another rider in a crash, lying face down near the curbstones. Jongin’s heart starts to thump frantically. He recognizes the lifeless bike. He knows that yellow-black suit. As he makes a turn, he sees two familiar digits on the rider’s back before his vision is blocked by a group of marshals huddling around the fallen rider.
Jongin is shaking. He wants to stop, wants to reaffirm what he just saw but he knows Sehun won’t forgive him if he did. Crashes are not new in their world. Jongin had a few minor crashes before but they were nothing serious. But Sehun. Jongin had the nightmare of his life when Sehun fell under his bike during a practice session in last year’s Russian Grand Prix. Sehun was such a wreck that Jongin almost wanted to pull out of the team. Of course, he could never do that especially when Junmyeon and the rest of the team had his back.
He’s sprinting through the last lap. Adrenaline rushes through his veins like never before, dominating his brain and kickstarting his inner rider. Infinitesimal sparks nibble at the edge of his mind, almost making the threads that are pulling him together snap free. He wants to quickly finish the damn race.
After taking over two other riders in the last lap, Jongin finishes at number 9. Topping the timesheet is not his priority at the moment even though Junmyeon would probably bitch at him for eons. He rushes to the paddock after stationing his bike.
“How’s Sehun?” he wheezes, trying to catch his breath as soon as he reaches the team’s infirmary. His eyes are wild, looking for a certain lanky boy and when he spots him, he just wants to give up on his knees. Sehun is slurping from a box of chocolate milk, a leg wrapped in bandages and propped up on a makeshift chair.
“Chocolate milk. Are you a fucking child?” Jongin grits out, ignoring Kyungsoo’s soft chuckle. The team’s medic pats Jongin’s shoulder as he leaves the two of them in the room.
“What,” Sehun mumbles, the straw dancing between his lips. “This thing keeps me alive.”
“The crash looked horrible; what with the fire and all. I was worried to death!” Jongin blubbers, walking around the small room. “And here you are, casually drinking chocolate milk.”
Sehun pats a space next to him and Jongin sighs, plopping himself down on the flat cushion.
“Ow. Careful. There’s a patient here,” Sehun whines as he squirms to make himself as comfortable as possible. However, he freezes when he feels a weight on his left shoulder. He doesn’t have to look to know that Jongin is the cause.
“Seriously, Sehun,” Jongin whispers, voice gentle. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
Sehun hums, resting his own head against Jongin’s. He knows he can’t promise Jongin anything and truthfully, Sehun is afraid that the same thing could happen to him too. They might stand proudly on the podium one day but get carried on a stretcher the next. The extremes between winning and losing are terrorizing but that’s what they live for.
“Let’s just look after each other, okay?”
When Jongin doesn’t say anything, Sehun peers at him cautiously. He quickly breaks into a smile; Jongin is sleeping like a baby. Sehun follows suit but not long after that, Junmyeon bursts into the room, starting to lecture them on the next Grand Prix in US.
(Jongin and Sehun continue napping like nothing happened. As usual.)
a/n: thank you for reading!
on the precipice of defeat;
kris/suho; pg-13; Tokyo Ghoul!au
warning: blood and mentions of murder
☆ originally posted here.
The stagnant atmosphere in the dark neighborhood did nothing to calm Junmyeon’s nerves. He dragged himself across the small alley that led straight to his apartment complex. He was trembling, whole body still shaking despite the newfound energy surging through his entire system after the feeding.
He reeked of blood. He should be used to the smell but no matter how hard he tried, the supposedly-sweet scent always threw him off. It reminded him of his true nature, his origin. He was disgusted at himself.
As he passed by a huge dumpster, he got rid of his jacket, grimacing as splotches of darkening thick liquid met in contact with his fingers. He sighed, trying his best to dispose of the evidence. Nobody would find out but he still had to be extra careful, especially with the increasing number of the Doves roaming up and about the city lately.
Junmyeon breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he was in the confinement of his single room apartment. He maneuvered himself in the darkness, heading immediately to the bathroom to wash himself. When he was done, he chugged down a can of beer, feeling slightly better. The beer tasted filthy as usual but at least it got rid of the aftertaste of the blood lingering on his taste buds.
Something caught in the periphery of Junmyeon’s vision and he whirled around, letting out a hiss on reflex. Bright light flooded his sight and he squinted slightly, trying to make out the tall silhouette standing before him.
“Junmyeon,” a voice he’d been wanting to hear for the past week reverberated across the small kitchen and rang in his ears. “It’s me, Yifan.”
“Yifan?” he echoed, his breath still painfully hitching. When he fully registered the warm smile and even warmer eyes directed at him, he lunged at the other man. “Yifan!”
Yifan laughed as he stumbled a little. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, feeling warmth radiating through their bodies. “I missed you so much,” he whispered.
Junmyeon peeled himself off Yifan, looking into the other’s dark orbs. He was silent for a long while before blurting out, “I just fed.”
Yifan’s smile was unwavering when he replied, “You look much better now. I’d be more worried if you kept starving yourself and-”
“I killed somebody!” Junmyeon cut Yifan off, pushing the latter away from him. He plopped himself on the couch, burying his face in his hands. “I fed on a person tonight…”
Yifan settled beside Junmyeon and gently took the other’s hands, squeezing them in his. “Junmyeon, we talked about this before. It’s not your fault.”
“I’m a fucking ghoul, Yifan!” Junmyeon snapped, his eyes welling up with tears. “I’m a monster that feeds off innocent people.”
“Shh…” Yifan shushes him and immediately enveloped him in his arms. “No more of this, okay, Junmyeon? You’re a ghoul, you can’t starve yourself anymore. You have to feed.” Yifan pulled away and held his gaze on Junmyeon’s. “You’re also Junmyeon, and I love you.”
Junmyeon’s lips twitched a little as he turned away. “You idiot. One day, I could have eaten you, you know,” he muttered, voice stooping low.
“Junmyeon.”
When Junmyeon turned back, Yifan’s breath caught in his lungs. The other’s eyes were pitch black, like an entrance to the deepest, darkest abyss, and his irises - they were scarlet, burning like flame. Yifan clenched his jaw as he stared right into Junmyeon’s orbs.
“I’m not very good at controlling myself, Yifan,” Junmyeon whispered, melancholy fully evident in his hoarse voice. “I’m truly scared. What if, while we’re sitting like this, my hunger kicks in? Your scent is exceptionally enticing.” Junmyeon crawled into Yifan’s lap and nuzzled at the blond’s neck. “Very enticing.”
Silence hung in the air like heavy smog that veiled the city of Seoul. For a few moments, the weight of silence itself was almost suffocating, the surrounding white noise almost deafening.
“That’s fine with me,” Yifan said.
Junmyeon’s eyebrows knitted together. “What?”
Yifan’s large hand ruffled at Junmyeon’s floppy hair as he grinned at him. “I said, that’s fine if it were you. You’re a ghoul, and I’m a human. We shouldn’t be sitting like this, having almost normal conversations but then we did. We’re one heck of a contradiction. I guess there must be a price for this miracle to happen, for us to happen.”
Junmyeon whimpered, burying his face at the crook of Yifan’s shoulder. His eyes turned back to normal, albeit still a little puffy. “You’re so fucking weird, you lowly human.”
Yifan chuckled as he held Junmyeon against him. “Well, I’m your human.”
Junmyeon smiled. Yifan had always been a little different but then, he supposed, he was too. He was a ghoul, and Yifan was a human; the fact would never change and so did his love for the blond man. If there was anything that would hurt Yifan, Junmyeon wouldn’t hesitate to fight.
“Hey, Junmyeon,” Yifan suddenly said. “I think you need a bath. You stink.”
Junmyeon took a deep breath. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
02.
up above the clouds;
(exo/red velvet) suho/irene; g; fluff
☆ originally posted here.
“Your hair smells wonderful.”
Joohyun glows at the impromptu comment. She doesn’t have to look up to know that Junmyeon is gazing at her at the moment. She feels Junmyeon nosing at her hair and her scalp tingles at the slight touch. She tucks her head closer under his chin, welcoming the other’s gesture silently.
They are sitting on the rooftop of the building after long hours of practice and rehearsals. The space between their heated bodies is long gone as they fit in to each other; Junmyeon’s arm around her waist and her head resting on his shoulder. Junmyeon’s free hand is toying with the strands of her hair that splay across his chest. Joohyun sighs in content as he moves to tuck a wild strand behind her ear.
“It’s so tiring,” she whines softly. “My legs feel like they’re coming off.”
Junmyeon chuckles. “Let me carry you, then.”
“Oh? Then I will cling to you like a koala and you’ll have to carry me forever.”
“My legs will be falling off then!”
Joohyun laughs. Junmyeon’s smile breaks out into a wide grin before the sound of their tinkling laughter cuts through the silent night. Junmyeon pulls her closer and she gives in, fatigue draining out of her body in an instant. It still amazes her how even the smallest of his gesture never failed to make her feel at ease when she struggles to keep standing on her two legs. Neon lights from commercial billboards that proudly stand atop Seoul skyscrapers stare at them, outshining the blinking stars that scatter across the sky.
Joohyun lets out a yawn as she feels drowsiness gnawing at her mind.
“Joohyun?”
Joohyun hums in acknowledgement. Junmyeon smiles fondly as he notices that Joohyun is almost dozing off, snug against his shoulder. He plays with her fingers, trying to make her stay awake.
“Let’s go home, noona,” he says suddenly, mirth lacing his voice as he stresses the last word of his sentence. He tries not to laugh at the look on Joohyun’s face.
Joohyun puffs her cheeks in mild annoyance, now completely awake. She rolls her eyes, knowing that Junmyeon always, always finds it amusing whenever she reacts to his antics.
“Fine, seon.bae.nim,” she retorts and squirms to escape his hold.
Junmyeon makes an embarrassing yelping noise as she tugs him hard, pulling him to his feet. She giggles at the flush blossoming on his cheeks before tiptoeing to peck at his lips. Junmyeon blinks, and in his daze, he realizes that she has run off downstairs, the door to the rooftop slamming shut behind her.
Junmyeon grins to himself, trailing after her. He will pay back her favor, he thinks, as he catches sight of the pink strands of her hair dancing across her back.
03.
liquid & metal;
kai/sehun; pg; motoGP!au
Dark clouds lumber lazily across the usually sunny Aragon sky. The tracks are gradually shadowed by the marching clouds and the crowds seem to tone down at the sudden weather change.
Jongin stares at the sky, tipping up his baseball cap in the process. To be frank, he’s thankful if it rains a little today. Aragon has been a bit too hot for him even though he used to complete practice sessions under the unforgiving heat of Doha. He observes the circuit from the paddock. Yesterday’s practice session was too much for him; the heat getting up to his head quicker than the brake rotors of his motorcycle. He was lucky that he managed to wrap up the last few laps, even positioning in Top 10. He’s pretty confident he’ll place better in today’s qualifying rounds, given that the scorching sun is going easy on him.
His eyes wander around. He spots Sehun, his teammate, lounging on a small chair all ready in his rider suit. The younger rider looks calm and composed, barely showing any emotion. Jongin knows Sehun the longest. He knows that Sehun is more than cool demeanor and stoic expression. He is always nervous before a race. Jongin is rather ashamed to admit it himself, but he envies the way Sehun just lets his adrenaline take over his body. Sehun that he sees right before a race is not the same Sehun that becomes one with the circuit once the red lights go out.
“We’re starting in an hour, Jongin. Go get changed,” Junmyeon, the team manager urges him.
Sehun looks up from his position and gives Jongin a small smile. Jongin returns the favor before quickly scurrying towards the changing room.
Jongin approaches Sehun once he’s done changing. He bumps his shoulder against the latter’s lightly to gain his attention. Each clad in a leather suit that boldly displays the team’s name alongside many other endorsement brands, they stand next to each other in silence, holding a helmet by the hip.
‘Sehun must be thinking too much again,’ he muses as he clasps a hand on the other’s shoulder.
“Think you can beat me?”
Sehun’s lips pull up into a smirk. “You should worry about yourself more. Get past Hayden before thinking of beating me.”
“As if. I know you’re still not over Lorenzo getting the podium in the last session,” Jongin pokes.
Sehun’s lips pull into a pout. “Can’t believe that he’s just a rookie.”
Jongin laughs. Sehun makes a huffing noise but says no more. They’re the only static figures in the middle of the paddock. Each member of the on-track pit crew from the team manager to the bike technicians buzzes with energy, shuffling to and fro the pit-box. Junmyeon looks the busiest, shouting instructions and making sure everything is going as scheduled.
“The machines are ready!” Chanyeol, the team’s engineer yells from the pit-box.
Jongin and Sehun strut towards the motorhome station. Two yellow and black Yamaha YZR-M1 racing bikes stand proudly in the garage, adorning their rider’s respective number. The bikes are brought onto the tracks and the crowds begin to cheer from the grandstand as their favorite riders appear.
The race starts smoothly. Sehun has a front-row start - which gives him a much better chance to rank due to his excellent performance during practice sessions - and Jongin gets to start from the sixteenth position on the grid. Sehun fires away, taking the hole-shot at the first corner, surpassing two other riders from their rival teams who are trailing close behind him. His number - ‘94’ - boldly stares from the front, emblazoned on his leather suit.
The first crash happens at the second hairpin when a Japanese rider loses control of his machine and goes down, crashing straight onto the asphalt. Two other riders who are unable to avoid the mishap are brought down along with their bikes. Jongin barely misses the contact and gets a hold of himself as he continues to rev up.
‘Four more laps,’ Jongin thinks to himself when he sees Baekhyun flashing an LED board from the pit wall as he passes by. He’s pretty confident he will at least manage a Top 10 position, and he’s sure Sehun will-
He’s reaching a corner when he spots another rider in a crash, lying face down near the curbstones. Jongin’s heart starts to thump frantically. He recognizes the lifeless bike. He knows that yellow-black suit. As he makes a turn, he sees two familiar digits on the rider’s back before his vision is blocked by a group of marshals huddling around the fallen rider.
Jongin is shaking. He wants to stop, wants to reaffirm what he just saw but he knows Sehun won’t forgive him if he did. Crashes are not new in their world. Jongin had a few minor crashes before but they were nothing serious. But Sehun. Jongin had the nightmare of his life when Sehun fell under his bike during a practice session in last year’s Russian Grand Prix. Sehun was such a wreck that Jongin almost wanted to pull out of the team. Of course, he could never do that especially when Junmyeon and the rest of the team had his back.
He’s sprinting through the last lap. Adrenaline rushes through his veins like never before, dominating his brain and kickstarting his inner rider. Infinitesimal sparks nibble at the edge of his mind, almost making the threads that are pulling him together snap free. He wants to quickly finish the damn race.
After taking over two other riders in the last lap, Jongin finishes at number 9. Topping the timesheet is not his priority at the moment even though Junmyeon would probably bitch at him for eons. He rushes to the paddock after stationing his bike.
“How’s Sehun?” he wheezes, trying to catch his breath as soon as he reaches the team’s infirmary. His eyes are wild, looking for a certain lanky boy and when he spots him, he just wants to give up on his knees. Sehun is slurping from a box of chocolate milk, a leg wrapped in bandages and propped up on a makeshift chair.
“Chocolate milk. Are you a fucking child?” Jongin grits out, ignoring Kyungsoo’s soft chuckle. The team’s medic pats Jongin’s shoulder as he leaves the two of them in the room.
“What,” Sehun mumbles, the straw dancing between his lips. “This thing keeps me alive.”
“The crash looked horrible; what with the fire and all. I was worried to death!” Jongin blubbers, walking around the small room. “And here you are, casually drinking chocolate milk.”
Sehun pats a space next to him and Jongin sighs, plopping himself down on the flat cushion.
“Ow. Careful. There’s a patient here,” Sehun whines as he squirms to make himself as comfortable as possible. However, he freezes when he feels a weight on his left shoulder. He doesn’t have to look to know that Jongin is the cause.
“Seriously, Sehun,” Jongin whispers, voice gentle. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
Sehun hums, resting his own head against Jongin’s. He knows he can’t promise Jongin anything and truthfully, Sehun is afraid that the same thing could happen to him too. They might stand proudly on the podium one day but get carried on a stretcher the next. The extremes between winning and losing are terrorizing but that’s what they live for.
“Let’s just look after each other, okay?”
When Jongin doesn’t say anything, Sehun peers at him cautiously. He quickly breaks into a smile; Jongin is sleeping like a baby. Sehun follows suit but not long after that, Junmyeon bursts into the room, starting to lecture them on the next Grand Prix in US.
(Jongin and Sehun continue napping like nothing happened. As usual.)
a/n: thank you for reading!