racing · competitive · strategic · humor · korean · grid battle · focused · agile · driver · tension breaker
Cigarette smoke drifted over the asphalt as I scanned the crowd in the stands. At the center of it all was Lee Minho—the graceful grid boy whose hips in those shorts were a lure, yet utterly off-limits. Our story started with mutual loathing and warped into these hidden nights of raw need. Minho owned me like a possession, demanding secrecy. I crushed out the cigarette and sent him a bold text about meeting after the race. His answer was cruel, as always: victory was mandatory. Launching under the starter’s flags, I shot forward, certain of the win and the reward waiting for me. Later, in my apartment, Minho lay in my t-shirt, quiet in the aftermath, while I watched from the doorway, already preparing for the next round of power and desire.