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Wet snowflakes drift down from the sky as Koko waits for Inupi outside of their meeting place. Inupi had sent him a text, just a single address and a time: 9 pm. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Inupi, who’d made it a habit of sending cryptic texts. If it were truly important, or a crisis, he would always call.
Koko felt the cold prickling at his skin, his feet already freezing in his leather boots. He really should have dressed for the weather better, Koko thought to himself as he let out a tiny sniffle, resisting the urge to wipe his nose on his coat. His expensive, designer wool coat.
Koko gazes at the building in front of him, hands stuffed in his pockets. A high-end motorbike shop, the windows illuminated from within, glistening motorbikes sparkling in their holiday displays. Perhaps there was a reason Inupi had asked him to meet here, of all places. Perhaps, this was a hint of some type— an expensive hint, one that Koko was going to choose to ignore.
All speculation ceases as the garage door next to the shop opens, and a familiar figure appears, walking a brand new, shiny, motorcycle towards him.
“You got a new motorcycle?” The second the question left his mouth, Koko wishes he hadn’t said anything, the tone of his voice sounds judgemental even to his ears. It’s not really his business what Inupi spends his money on. Even if just looking at the bike in front of him makes his pockets sore.
Inupi turns to him, a smile on his face, partially hidden behind a scarf, breath foggy in the cold winter air. “Yeah. I finally got enough money saved to— oh, don't look at me like that,” he interrupts with a wave of a gloved hand, as if reading Koko’s mind. “It was worth it. My old one was pretty much falling apart.” Inupi never saves his money, always blowing the allowance he gets from the Black Dragons on designer shoes, clothing. While Koko would admit that designer goods are definitely worth their hefty price tags— especially when he gets to appreciate Inupi’s legs in a brand new pair of heels— he definitely thinks this was a bit excessive.
“Exactly how much did you spend on this… death trap ?” Koko asks, taking a moment to truly look at the bike in front of him. It was a motorcycle. With motorcycle seats and motorcycle handlebars— Nothing about the bike particularly stood out to him, although it looked a lot fancier than Inupi’s previous one. It could probably go pretty fast. Koko shivers from just imagining sitting on the back of that cold metal death trap, speeding down the street…
Inupi declines to answer Koko’s question, instead running his gloved hands over the body of the motorcycle almost reverently. “Wanna test it out with me?” Inupi asks, grinning at the scowl on Koko’s face. “Baby’s first ride?”
“No fucking way,” Koko scoffs, crossing his arms for good measure. Despite being in a motorcycle gang, Koko had never ridden a motorbike before in his life, out of sheer stubbornness. He’d like to live longer than sixteen years on this planet, thank you very much.
“The meeting is super far— what, were you planning on walking the whole way there?” Inupi asks, cocking his head in a way that has Koko immediately on the defensive.
“ Yes. ” Koko insists, kicking at a bit of snow with his already freezing foot. Really, he should have worn warmer boots for the weather, thicker socks perhaps. He could always take a taxi to the meeting…
“Aw, c'mon Koko, we can't have one of our executives showing up wet and shivering— it’s a bad look for the Black Dragons. What if they think you’re too poor to afford a motorcycle?” It was obvious what Inupi was doing, appealing to Koko’s overwhelming sense of propriety in order to get what he wants. There's no way Koko would fall for such a shameless attempt at manipulation— he has to put his (frozen) foot down, to look Inupi in those pleading, puppy dog eyes and say no .
“Okay, fine.” He says.
God damn it .
A shit-eating grin spreads across Inupi’s face. Koko is so whipped it’s actually comical. “Only because my feet are cold, okay? I don’t want to have to walk in this shitty snow more than I have to,” his feeble attempt at protesting falls on deaf ears, as Koko allows Inupi to grab him by the arm, dragging him towards the shiny new motorcycle.
“Whatever you say. I know you're scared of riding, but it’s okay. I'll take care of you.” Inupi’s voice lowers, leaning forwards, the look on his face dropping into a suggestive grin that has Koko stepping backwards in embarrassment. The grin grows wider as he claps a hand on Koko’s back. “I’ll drive slow. Promise.”
With Inupi looking at him like that, Koko really has no choice. “You fucking better .”
The motorcycle sits there on the curb, propped up by its kickstand. It’s glossy white colour, a perfect contrast to the Black Dragons vinyl decal covering the side of the motorcycle’s sleek body. At the end of the day, this had been a business purchase— a way for the gang to prove just how much money they’d been raking in recently. A vanity piece, a statement that tells onlookers: we have so much money, we don’t even know what to do with it . Koko supposes he can’t argue with that.
There was supposed to be a second bike, a matching one for Koko, but he’d dragged his feet. Those things were a death trap, he’d told Taiju. Too dangerous. Wouldn’t get within ten feet of one. Although, he did note that the bike Inupi had chosen for himself had just enough space on the back for two. He wonders if Inupi had paid extra for that…
“ The Yamaha RZ350, ” Inupi says, a proud smile stretching across his face as he swings one leg over the bike. “I’ve been looking for one for ages. It was lucky to find one here. Been calling around town all week, and this was the last one, only needed a couple spare parts, a couple mods, and then it was good to go. It's like an early Christmas present to myself.” Inupi continues to smile at Koko, placing a hand on the seat behind him in invitation. “What are you waiting for? I don’t bite. ”
Koko sincerely doubts that statement. He makes a show of climbing onto the back of the bike behind Inupi hesitantly, moving as slowly as possible. That is, until Inupi decides to grab him by the lapel of his coat and yank him the rest of the way onto the bike. Koko’s arms flail out and grab Inupi by the back of his jacket, letting out an undignified yelp. Luckily, Inupi doesn’t comment on that.
Inupi reaches in front of him, pulling out a helmet, wordlessly passing it back to Koko. Koko begins to protest immediately. If anything, as the one driving, Inupi should be the one wearing the helmet, not him. He attempts to tell this to Inupi but falls silent the moment Inupi pulls out another helmet. One that matches the helmet currently clutched in Koko’s disbelieving hands.
“Oh. Matching helmets,” Koko says in disbelief, but Inupi only smiles softly in response. The helmets are the same clean white colour as the motorcycle, emblazoned with the matching Black Dragons' crests. “I’m gonna need more protective equipment than this. Maybe some shoulder pads? A bulletproof vest?” Koko scoffs as a distraction from the warm feeling growing in his chest.
Inupi snorts at that. “Planning on getting shot at tonight?”
“You can never be too careful—” Koko shoots back, but is rudely interrupted by Inupi revving the engine of the bike, cutting him off.
“ Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you,” Inupi shouts over the noise of the engine, the distinct humour in his voice leading Koko to believe that he had, in fact, heard him, and was just being an asshole. “You’re gonna wanna hold on tight, there.”
Hold on tight . Koko knows what he has to do, but doesn't know if he has the strength to do it. He should have known that this was going to be on the cards from the moment that Inupi had goaded him into climbing on the back of this metal death trap. The vast expanse of Inupi’s back sits in front of him, simultaneously welcoming and terrifying .
All this song and dance so Inupi can have him exactly where he wants him, clutching at his jacket from behind, completely under his control. Not that Koko really minds— he only sighs, giving in, wrapping his arms around Inupi’s midsection from the back. A small chuckle vibrates through Inupi’s chest, and then they’re off into the night. Slowly, at first. Until Koko is somewhat used to the feeling of the bike whipping down the street and has loosened his death grip from around Inupi’s waist.
Frigid air has Koko’s hair blowing around his face, snow stinging against his cheeks. As they get on the highway, Inupi speeds up, letting out a holler of excitement as the engine roars beneath them, weaving in between cars. Koko clutches Inupi’s back even harder, resting his face against his jacket.
Inupi has always been a reckless driver. His last motorcycle; the red one (that Koko has already forgotten the name of) had been dinged all over from a variety of street racing escapades that Inupi had gotten up to in his early Black Dragons career.
Flat out refusing to ever get on the damn thing, Koko had told Inupi: ‘It looks like it’ll fall apart any second’ and ‘no way in hell is that thing is safe to ride’. Whenever Inupi would rev up the engine, it would make a choked sort of stuttering noise that had Koko clutching his chest dramatically— secretly wondering if the bike really would explode into flames while Inupi was riding it, leaving only a scorch mark on the pavement in front of him. This new bike was definitely a step up from his old one. Safer.
From where Koko’s head leaned against Inupi’s jacket, he watches as the city goes by. The snow is coming down in sheets now, his feet still frozen in his boots— coat barely doing anything to block out the wind. Every once in a while, a stray snowflake slips underneath his collar, causing him to let out a full-body shudder as it melts against his skin. The only thing keeping him warm is the space where his body is pressed against Inupi’s.
He really should have worn a hat, or something to go underneath the helmet. Maybe a scarf or a thicker sweater. It’s absolutely frigid now that the sun has gone down fully, although the light pollution from the city around them bouncing off snow makes it feel as though it were still midday. Koko shivers again.
As they pull up at a stoplight, Inupi takes it as an opportunity to unwind the scarf around his neck, tossing it backwards. As if he’d read Koko’s mind. Koko is unprepared to have a scarf thrown at him and scrambles to catch it before it drops to the slush beneath them. He stares at the fabric in his hands as though it has offended him personally.
When he makes no move to put on the scarf, Inupi speaks, “Koko, I can feel you shivering. It’s fine. I’m actually dressed for the weather.”
Koko moves to argue, as always, but sneezes instead, further proving Inupi’s point. Letting out a sigh, he wraps the offered scarf around his neck. He feels warmer already, mumbling out a quiet, “thanks,” that ends up mostly muffled by the material in front of his mouth. Inupi probably got the message, anyhow.
The light in front of them turns green, and Koko scrambles to regain purchase around Inupi’s waist before he speeds off down the street once again. Gone is the restraint that he’d shown at the beginning of their ride. The traffic around them has begun to thin out and Inupi has taken that as an invitation to start driving like a maniac. One particularly sharp turn has them skidding slightly on a patch of ice, and finally, Koko has had enough.
Heart tumbling in his chest, arms wound tight around Inupi’s waist, he hisses out, “Jesus christ Inupi, slow down! ”
“Think I'm going fast now? Just wait until you see—” Inupi is cut off by Koko squeezing him hard enough to cut off his air. He lets out a choked laugh. “You baby , we’re barely above the speed limit—”
“ You're driving above the speed limit ?!” Koko all but shrieks, tightening his grip around Inupi, tight enough that he can feel the other boy’s muscles flexing as he lets out a breathless laugh. A laugh that warms Koko up, all the way to the tips of his now frozen toes, but does nothing to quell the fear currently hammering away at his heart. “Just— Fucking slow down!! ” he shouts, voice muffled into the back of Inupi’s jacket.
Inupi continues to laugh gleefully, almost as if he’s enjoying Koko’s suffering. But he does slow down, eventually. Enough for Koko to finally let out the breath that had been caught in his chest. Now that Inupi is no longer driving like a crazy person, the ride is somewhat… enjoyable. Pleasant, even. It’s still snowing, lighter than before, snowflakes whipping past them in waves as they head further into the city.
Far fewer cars are on the road with them now, the snow casting a veil of silence around them. It’s peaceful. Koko catches a small smile beginning to spread across his own face, quickly stifling it. He refuses to give Inupi the satisfaction of knowing he’s actually enjoying himself, even a little.
As they pull up to the rendezvous point, there is no one else around. Inupi parks the bike out of sight from any cops or anyone else that might be lurking around at this time of night. Pulling out his phone, Koko checks the time.
“I thought we were meeting Taiju and the others at quarter to ten?” Inupi nods in affirmation. “Why are we half an hour early, then?” Koko asks. Inupi opens his mouth to respond, but quickly shuts it, averting his eyes with a sheepish smile. “Couldn’t help yourself, huh? You were going a little more than barely over the speed limit—”
Inupi lets out a dreamy sigh, breath escaping him in a cloud. “Racers magazine was right. The engine really does handle like a dream… even in the cold…” he says, rubbing his gloved hands together in front of his face.
Koko’s feet are still freezing. At this point, he’s regretting not taking a taxi after all. Inupi is fully transfixed by the bike, just running his hand over it in silence like a creep. “Have you named it yet?” Koko asks, as a distraction, genuinely curious.
Inupi blinks at him, his hand stilling against the frame. Taking a moment, he looks from Koko, to the bike, and then back to Koko. Koko can picture the gears turning in his head. Slowly. “Black Dragon,” he says, nodding his head solemnly.
“...Did you just come up with that on the spot?” Nobody has ever accused Inupi of being original— Koko recalls a long line of hamsters; all named ‘ Ham’ , from their shared childhood.
“Mhmm. I like it. Like the name of our gang,” Inupi replies, softly. Our gang. Not Tajiu’s, not Inupi’s alone. Theirs.
A strong gust of wind blows, sending a good amount of snow down the back of Koko’s neck, causing him a full body shiver. “Damn, it’s cold out—” he hisses.
Inupi scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and several moments pass. “...I can warm you up?” Inupi says, face surprisingly neutral.
What a bold offer. Koko can feel his cheeks flush. Before he has the chance to protest, Inupi is crowding him against the bike. Leaning back, Koko braces himself, placing a frozen hand on Inupi’s chest. “Ah— Inupi, what if someone—”
Interrupting him, Inupi leans ever further into his personal space. “There’s nobody around. I already checked.” He’s looking at Koko, eyes pleading. “...Please?”
It's already rare for Inupi to be the one to initiate anything physical between them, and far rarer for him to actually ask . “Okay,” Koko breathes out. Inupi begins to unzip his jacket, and then Koko is enveloped in warmth. Unwinding the scarf around Koko’s neck, he wraps it around the both of them. “You could’ve just said if you were cold, too,” Koko says, and Inupi hums in response.
They stand there for a while. Eventually, Koko snakes his arms around Inupi’s midsection, tucking his cold face into his neck, getting a small chuckle out of the other boy. Inupi is always warm, like a space heater; a contrast to Koko’s chronically poor circulation. When Koko would sleep over at the hideout on cold nights, he would often wake to find himself glued to the side of a happily snoring Inupi.
Inupi’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Actually, I changed my mind,” he says, and Koko pulls away slightly, fixing him with a questioning look. “The bike. I’m gonna name it Ninetails. ”
“That’s not a bad name,” Koko hums. “ Ninetails . Is there a particular meaning behind it, or…?”
“Mm. Not really.” A hand comes up, smoothing Koko’s hair out of his face. He’s sure he has a pretty bad case of helmet hair at this point. “It kinda reminds me of you,” Inupi says softly. Coming from a guy like him, one that would prioritize his bike over any girlfriend, this feels almost like a love confession .
“Huh? What do you mean—” Koko starts, feeling his face flush, but is interrupted by Inupi before he can get any clarification on what exactly he meant.
“Your hair is all messed up,” Inupi says, running his hand through Koko’s hair again.
Koko attempts to knock his hand away, in embarrassment. “I know. It’s from the helmet— probably your crazy driving too—”
“Hey. Koko,” Inupi says, softly, interrupting Koko’s complaint. His hand moves from his hair, fingers brushing against his cheek, the barest bit of contact against his bottom lip. Koko’s breath catches in his chest. Inupi leans closer, slowly, until their lips are just inches apart, so close, seemingly sharing a single breath. Koko wants, so badly, to close the distance between them, but he waits— the thought of Inupi being the one to initiate a kiss has his heart feeling close to bursting.
Suddenly, the sound of a motorcycle engine revving cuts through the silence. Inupi jolts slightly with the sound, Koko scrambling backwards— quickly putting distance between them. Immediately, he mourns the loss of contact, the warmth. Koko was so distracted, he’d forgotten they had a meeting. God damn it.
Inupi is standing away from him, a frown on his face as he zips his oversized jacket back up. Koko’s heart is pounding in his chest. The idea of the other Black Dragons members — of Taiju— catching their two vice-captains embracing has him feeling vaguely ill. They would be teased about it for the rest of time.
Looking around desperately, Koko breathes out a sigh of relief to see a group of motorcycles several streets away, too far for them to have seen anything. He runs a hand through his hair, smoothing it down self-consciously. If only they hadn’t interrupted—
A hand grabs his shoulder. Koko startles, looking back. Inupi glances at the approaching group, and back to Koko. All at once, he surges forward, to press a quick, warm kiss against Koko’s lips. Then, too soon, he steps back, returning Koko’s personal space.
Stumbling back, Koko covers his mouth in surprise, sure that his face is bright red. A voice shouts from behind them, in greeting. Inupi waves towards them, before looking back at a still shocked Koko. “I got a new space heater at the hideout,” Inupi says after a moment, cheeks still flushed. “A six-pack of beer too. Maybe, if you wanted— After, we can—” He trails off, voice lowering as he glances towards the approaching figures.
There's no way Koko could say no to that offer. The prospect of a drink, of a place where he can thoroughly defrost, of Inupi , has him nodding without a second thought. He breathes out a quick, “okay,” and Inupi smiles brightly, before walking off to greet the guys who’d just arrived.
By now, Koko has warmed up down to his very core. He can feel the heat of his cheeks, the back of his neck. If he were to look down, his body has surely melted the patch of snow beneath his feet, too. Koko has to take a moment to collect himself, to reconstruct his usually indifferent facade, jogging slightly to keep up with Inupi’s retreating back. Following two steps behind him, like always. They’ll be closer soon enough.