Sehun only seemed to come to life when his foot was slammed on the gas pedal, his eyes wild and bright, milk-white cheeks flushed a rosy hue with the high that could only be achieved through sheer, insane speed. For him, racing had never been about the money; with the amount of cash that his daddy--one of the wealthiest media moguls in Korea-- possessed, he would never spend a moment in his life worrying about the number in his bank account. Sehun raced only for this-- for the adrenaline rush that rattled his teeth, his bones, his entire body and soul.
A hazy voice whispered to him from the back of his mind, a sweet, toxic lullaby--"You can do it, you know", it cooed to him, coaxing him, "you can just keeping going and going and the end will be quick..."--but, as always, he somehow found the strength to ignore the temptation of this demon, and when he soared over the finish line, his foot managed to find the break. Tires squealing, the white Ultimate Aero gradually began to slow; Sehun's giddy, light-headed trances would linger in these moments between rush and reality, and he basked in it, soaking in the sensation he craved so hungrily.
Lips tilted up in an insane smile, Sehun allowed himself to rest his forehead against the steering wheel when he was finally stopped, trembling fingers tightly clenching the wheel. He had won again, the other racers only now bringing their cars over the finish line, but the boy could care less. He knew that this blissful Novocaine was a painfully temporary thing-- later, the hollow ache would be back in his chest, and he would try to drown out the nothingness within him with another drink; another joint; another faceless man with bruising hands. As always. So he focused on feeling alive, of being whole and complete and not so pitifully broken... even if only for a short period of time.
Sehun lifted his head and snapped his ever-controlled mask back onto his face, brandishing his confident, seductive smile like armor. Time to come crashing back down to reality, he thought as he slid out of his pristine SSC Ultimate Aero-- his car, his most prized possession. People swarmed him when he was declared the official winner of their illegal game, and he accepted the handful of cash as if it actually meant something to him; in reality, he was scanning the faces of the crowd, trying to find someone suitable to be his distraction for the night. As usual, a multitude of disgusting men-- no, pigs, filthy pigs--were attempting to catch his attention, hoping to get lucky, looking at him with the eyes of predators who wished for the chance to spread Sehun over their own cocks.
It disgusted him. But at the end of the day, he could blame no one but himself for his reputation as an easy fuck.
It was a cold night; winter was approaching quickly, and it carried the wrath of a vengeful storm. He tucked the bundle of money into his jacket and zipped it up to his chin, the bitter wind slicing straight through the fabric to chill his willowy frame-- he was too thin, all bones and long, lanky limbs; that's what one got when most of their meals consisted of booze and cigarettes. The midnight breeze tugging at his rainbow-streaked hair, Sehun began his search for someone to fuck some life back into his hollow body. He ignored the wolf whistles of passersby and turned down the offers to light his cigarette when he retrieved one from his back pocket, opting to light it himself with a quick flick of his Zippo lighter.
Oh Sehun was an infamous member of the racing community. He was defined by his talent, his promiscuity, his wealth and his massive house parties. The party never stopped for Sehun... never. It was never enough. Nothing was ever enough to be able to defeat the hollowness that always, always, manages to permeate his soul.
As the rainbow-haired boy breathed out a stream of smoke, his hip resting against the passenger side door of his car, movement on the far end of the lot managed to catch his attention-- more wolf whistles, a pack of men of all shapes and sizes. The blood drained from his cheeks when he caught sight of an all too familiar face amongst them, those vile lips tilted upwards in a wolfish grin. Memories of that night came flooding back--a hand clamping over his mouth to smother his screams, his legs being wrenched apart with brutal force--and Sehun knew, right then and there, that he must save whoever had managed to catch so many of these bastards' attentions.
Cigarette clamped between two fingers, Sehun left the safety of his car and weaved through the mingling crowd, his mind racing as he formulated a plan. Elbowing his way into the circle of bodies, the slender boy managed to catch a glimpse of the man at the center--tanned skin, strong shoulders--before he threw himself at him, looping his arms around his neck.
"Yah.... did you think you could sneak away from me that easily?" Sehun pouted his lips as if he was hurt, nuzzling his cheek against the stranger's. The street racer tasted the other's breath on his tongue even before he kissed him, slotting their mouths together before the guy could have time to react; Sehun placed one of his hands onto his hip, encouraging him to give it a squeeze as he playfully nibbled the man's plush lower lip. So soft and full, Sehun noted to himself of the man's lips before he left them, moving his mouth to hover above the stranger's ear.
"Play along," he whispered before pressing a gentle, teasing peck to the sharp line of the guy's jaw. Sehun made a big deal of separating himself from the man, as if it was almost painful to tear his lips away, even if only for a second. Glancing over his shoulder at the stunned crowd, at that man in particular, Sehun pasted a pleased smirk onto his face. "He's mine, boys. Better luck next time."
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