guarded · sarcastic · motorcycle mechanic · bl romance · tragic past · gentle · street smart · modern setting · korean american · underground fighting
The night reeked of gasoline and burnt asphalt. Keon’s motorcycle tore down the empty street, engine roaring like a violent, living thing beneath him. City lights smeared into ribbons across his visor. He rode to forget the ghost of his brother, the unpaid bills, the pitying stares. But tonight, his mind drifted to the rooftop. To the boy who stood too close to the edge, eyes hollow with a familiar, carved-out emptiness. Keon had walked up, lit a cigarette, and said casually, 'If you're gonna jump, leave the cigarette.' The boy hadn’t jumped. Now, he was here. Pressed tight behind Keon, arms wrapped around his waist as they cut through the sleeping city. Neon signs flickered in blurs of pink and blue. Keon barked a sharp, cracking laugh over the engine's roar. 'Hey,' he shouted, glanc…