#racerau

[joh-a-umeko]

[xylavie]

I'm still at the cottage.

[loeyslover]

secrets

      you looked down at your glass of whiskey as the loud music resonating off the club hit your ears. at this point, you didn’t even wanna look back, as the sight you had seen was forever embedded into your brain. your longterm boyfriend with the hands that touched you every morning wrapped around a frisky blond’s dress clad hips, every now and them moving to cup her ass while they danced along to whatever song was playing, you’d lost count. however, you weren’t just sitting at the bar feeling sorry for yourself, you were awaiting the attention of someone other than your boyfriend.

      even with sorrow clouding your thought, you still felt him when he graced the club with his presence. the aura around you changed, the energy radiated danger and adrenaline, something your blood was urging to have. he didn’t look like he belonged here, more like he came straight out of a harley davidson magazine issue. his long, thick thighs were clothed with a pair of black denim jeans, his steps were walked in ink black combat boots, his muscles restrained by a black and white cotton tee, and the final piece perfecting this man’s calloused image was his beat up leather jacket, it perfectly showed the rippled and strong muscle held in his arms, as everytime he reached over to grab his beer, the leather would tighten around his biceps. you took slow sips of the whiskey you would normally down, as you wanted to savor in the moments you were able to take quick glances at him.

      he looked like the bad boy your parents would hate to see corrupt their daughter, the kind of guy your friends would warn you about because he would break your heart, but the guy you would go back to a million times because you loved the thrill and the rush of living on the edge with him. his eyes, dark and mysterious like a sky you wanna look at forever, but would never decipher, his black hair shaggy and covering most of his forehead, and on his face were the luscious lips you badly wanted to taste.

      you didn’t know it, but he had been eyeing you too. you thought your glances were being careful, when they were in fact very obvious. chanyeol wasn’t trying to be noticed or take anyone home tonight, he just wanted to relax at his favorite bar for as long as he could, maybe down a few beers, but he thought that if he took someone home, it might as well be you. 

      just as you finished your last sip of alcohol and reached into your pocket for a twenty, you stopped at the sound of a palm hit against the bar table, and that’s when you looked up and saw him. he towered over you, looked down, and offered a small smile at your form. “umm, what’s this about?,”you asked, as you held the crisp bill you fished out from your pocket in between your index and middle fingers. “you’re telling me i’m tryna be nice and pay for a pretty girl’s drink, only to be hit with a what’s this about?,” you heard his raspy, deep voice say over the music.

      “you don’t know said pretty girl, that’s why i’m asking,” you responded, and that’s when you felt his large hand creep up onto your face, and take your chin between his middle and index finger. “i think i know you pretty well from all that staring you were doing earlier, princess,” he said, as your eyes went wide with shock and cheeks flushed up in embarrassment. “i wasn’t looking at you, though. i was looking at my boyfriend,” you sassed back. he raised his eyebrows in amusement and said, “the boyfriend that is currently humping another slut and has his tongue down her throat?,” you turned your head back and were met with the exact sight he described. 

      you tilted your head down in disappointment, but it was instantly raised by chanyeol’s hand. “tell you what pretty girl, i’ll take you on a ride if you can keep a secret.” he said over the song playing and didn’t even give you a chance to respond, as he intertwined his palm with yours and dragged you out of the bar to the parking lot.

      you followed his lead until you were met with a motorcycle, so the mysterious stranger was a biker. you looked at the squeaky clean exterior painted a sleek, night black and in that moment decided what you wanted. “show me, handsome, show me darkness, baby show me deepness. i’ll ride with you.”, you told him, and before you knew it you were straddling his back on his motorcycle, hanging on for dear life as the engine roared.

      you felt the fresh breeze of the three am air flush your cheeks and kiss your hair, as you sped out the bar’s parking lot. soon you were met with the bright lights of the buildings and skyscrapers of the night in seoul, you felt chanyeol rev the bike and accelerate, as he sped down the lonely streets of the city. 

      you rested your cheek against the cool leather of his jacket and inhaled the strong scent of his cologne through the material. you closed your eyes, and felt truly at peace with a complete stranger you felt you knew all your life, as your arms wrapper tighter around his muscular torso. you sighed in content, as the bike sped further into the night and sky, you were sure you never wanted to return, the thrill of this man too addicting.

hey guyssss, so i have a little something here for you, i really hope you like it. i was thinking of writing it further into a smut, so if that’s something you wanna see, then be sure to tell me please. 

[joh-a-umeko]

[joh-a-umeko]

[joh-a-umeko]

Racer AU was originally drawn by kidian.

[72-reasons]

"Oh come on. They even made a compilation of your best drifts!” John whined, and Khan knew that whatever his physician had to say about his blood pressure, John was largely to blame. 

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, in spite of it barely being set, he snapped, “I don’t care! They can keep it!” It was a petulant response, one which made his lungs burn and not entirely from having agitated his scar tissue, he was fairly certain.

Dutifully, John had realized the gravity of his mood and buttoned his lip. The cyclist’s eyes, however, were on him like a malcontent headmaster, sizing up his response. Were it anyone else, Khan wouldn’t necessarily worry about them seeing beneath his petty reaction. Most would chalk it up, and not incorrectly, to his most recent brush with death.

But with John, Khan was actually concerned the other man might catch wind of what was truly bothering him.

“You know, your entire career has set an unreasonably high bar,” John said, and the mild amusement of his tone caught Khan off guard. He pursed his lips, looking at the other man as he sat, lounging on the patio chair as if he owned it, Khan knew he was up to something. “You’re the only driver to be dead during the victory determination of the penultimate race of the season, and then come back to claim the trophy.”

“Not to mention the fact that you’ve got more wins than any of your contemporaries. Your standings will take another hundred years to best - and that’s only if they can breed another psycho like you,” the blond continued, plucking a stalk of pickled asparagus from his bloody mary. The uncharacteristically brilliant spring sunshine glinted on his sunglasses as they sat perched on his brow.

“So?”

It was all he could think to ask. It sounded like John was giving him permission to retire. To turn his back on the craft that had consumed his life, and the sole talent he could claim with any certainty. But he couldn’t be sure, or rather, didn’t want to be sure that was what the other man was offering.

“So.” Fishing out his mobile from his pocket, John unlocked it, fiddled with it for a moment, and handed it to him. Khan took it reluctantly, squinting and tilting the screen so he could see what the other man had concocted.

“Real estate?” he asked dryly, looking over at the blond with a shake of his head. He nodded at the house, and at the rolling lawn that stretched down to the shores of Lake Windermere. “Don’t have a whole lot of use for that, do I? I certainly don’t need the revenue.”

“No, you don’t,” John agreed, before wagging a finger at the mobile still in Khan’s hands. “But look at what I actually bookmarked, would you?”

“Yes, yes. Commercial land, waiting for development. What the hell are you on about?” he replied with a an exhausted wave of his hand. “I’m not exactly the farmer type.”

“God, I would sure as hell hope not. But that area has got some interesting developments. Car show rooms, storage units. It would be a prime spot to set up a track,” John answered nonchalantly, flicking his sunglasses back down over his nose and taking a long swig from his drink. “Easy to develop too, given it’s close to an industrialized area.”

“A track?” he parroted, raising his brows. “A track for what?”

“Karting, you moron.”

“What, on that scrap of land? There’s no way it would fit.”

“It’s not exactly Aintree, no. But that doesn’t mean it won’t work. That plot of land is the size of Windsor Castle. If you don’t think you can fit a functional karting track on that much land, I think you’re full of shit,” John insisted, shaking his head. “You’ve got the money. This whole fucking place is paid for, and you could be retired for the next two centuries before running out of money. That plot is an hour away, and you don’t have a single reason not to buy it and develop it.”

“Oh don’t I?” At that John looked at him, pulling his sunglasses down far enough to cast Khan a skeptical look. “Who’s to say I’m retiring? And why on earth would I take on the liability and headache of a bunch of sniveling halfwit children on my own? I think that’s reason enough to think this whole plan of yours is a bunch of bollocks.”

“I know the look of a man that’s reached the point of valuing his life over his career. It’s in your eyes, Khan. It’s the same look Niki Lauda has in his.”

That startled Khan, nearly to the point that he dropped John’s mobile. But he couldn’t deny it - couldn’t refute what he’d been working himself sick over every moment of his laborious recovery. “Then why keep living it?” he asked. “Why open a track, just to watch others make the same mistake?”

“Because it wasn’t a mistake. It was the best decision you ever made, and you still feel that even if you’re still trying to understand why you feel that way given it almost killed you. It’s the same problem I have. And that’s why starting a racing school is the next best step. It’s your way of passing on that wisdom you paid for,” John said, and Khan was amazed to find himself raptly agreeing. “You don’t have to risk your life doing it, Khan. But that also doesn’t mean you have to live entirely without it either.”

“We’ve upgraded to an academy now, have we?” Khan teased, and John’s smile was as brilliant as the Cumbrian sunshine. “That was quick.”

“Come on. You can’t tell me that Khan Academy doesn’t have a nice ring.”

“It does - mainly because it’s already copyrighted.”

“Well. Whatever. Khan Racing Academy. Still sounds authoritative.”

“It’s missing something, though. This is your brain child. Or are you just handing me a therapy method and wanting me to walk it out?” Khan asked.

“Hell no. I would never trust you to handle being around children on your own. But I don’t need my name in the title. I just need you to keep biking in mind when you build the track - because don’t think that this joint venture isn’t going to be just that.”

Leaning back into his chair and looking down at the twinkling waters of the Lake District, Khan smiled, taking a sip of his caesar and handing John’s phone back to him. “That’s better,” he said. “Now, since you found that listing, go ahead and call the realtor. We’ll be wanting to snag it before it goes off the market.”

“Should I offer them cash up front?”

“If that would make you feel powerful. And it might be a colorful way to get their attention.”

“God you’re obnoxious. I love you.”

Khan chuckled. “I love you too. Now pass me the vodka. If we’re going to ring in my new career, we had better do it properly.”