Racing for Keeps
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There’s the loud shriek of tires braking on pavement, the rumbling of an engine, and he only manages to pry an eye open after a few moments pass, and he hasn’t been turned into roadkill. The hood of the car sits an inch away from the flimsy metal barrier where they stand. Kiyoomi’s heart is hammering in his chest, all the while the crowd roars around him. Rin is smiling at him, tugging his limp hand in the air, cheering like they didn’t almost die.
After a moment, the door swings open, and Kiyoomi watches as a pair of black high-top Vans emerges. Tan, toned legs, baggy shorts, a loose Ramones T-shirt, even tanner arms, messy blond hair, and an arrogant grin.
Hot.
That’s Kiyoomi’s first thought.
“That’s Atsumu,” Rin says, as if it’s not obvious by his wide smile.
His second thought is even more eloquent than his first.
Fuck.
Series
- Part 1 of Racing for Keeps
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“Yer a menace,” Atsumu laughs against his mouth.
Kiyoomi hums, “If only there were something you could do about that.”
Atsumu’s eyes darken, and it’s the same look he gets when he’s getting ready to race. When he’s flooring the Mustang through the dark streets, nothing but neon lights and the roar of an engine to keep him company. Atsumu looks at Kiyoomi like he can’t wait to get under the hood, like he can’t wait to figure out just what makes him tick. Like he can’t wait to take him apart just to put him back together.
This. This is what Kiyoomi can’t get enough of.
Series
- Part 2 of Racing for Keeps