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magicshopaholic · 2 years

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Weekend Story: A Japanese GP Special (Part 1)

Summary: Years before all the heartbreak and drama, Kim Taehyung walked onto my paddock at Suzuka. Try as I might to look away, he was the only thing I could see on track.

How Taehyung and Dilara first met

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Word count: 27.5 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, stress, sexism, jealousy, heavy making out, blowjobs, fingering, dirty talk, sex

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @meirkive, @dreaming-with-happiness, @kflixnet, @k-radio

A/N: In honour of one of the best tracks on the calendar (but a questionable race :/), I've decided to post the first draft of Taehyung and Dilara's origin story! The initial idea was to just post an excerpt but not only was it too hard to choose, but so many of you wonderful readers requested the entire thing (despite the 40K threat) and after a point I couldn't imagine cutting anything out.

Do remember, though, this was written a very very long time ago, over a year before I even opened this blog. So while this is canon, in that these events already have and will continue to be referred to in future fics, there will be minor inconsistencies and differences in style of writing compared to the rest of the series. The biggest of these is probably that it's told from a first person POV, ie. Dilara's POV.

That being said, this is the first BTS fic I ever wrote and is therefore vv special to me, and I hope you all love it too :) It is set eight months prior to Los Angeles over the span of a race weekend.

(Also, congratulations to Max Verstappen who became two-time world champion today 🇳🇱)

Listen to: “on se plaît” by françoise hardy

part 2 | taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

a night to remember

Something’s different.

I stare at the ten foot poster, frowning and tapping my foot as the coffee in my cup sloshes around softly. Something’s different. I’m sure of it. My eyes skim everything; my own face, hair and race suit until the poster cuts off at the torso, followed by Max’s features and everything else on the poster. I still can’t figure it out.

Someone sidles up to me. “Do you know that from back there, it looks like you’re just admiring a poster of yourself?”

I shake my head, not changing my posture one bit. “Something’s different.” From the corner of my eye, I see Max frown, studying the poster himself. For all his fame as a hot-headed prodigy in Formula One, guaranteed future world champion and my very own teammate at Red Bull Racing, he looks just as confused as I am.

“I think my hair is parted differently,” he says thoughtfully after about a minute.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Well, maybe it’s the fact that you’re smiling. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this -”

“It’s nothing to do with our faces,” I interrupt him, rolling my eyes. “It’s something else… the background or design or - or layout…” There’s a few more seconds of silence before Max sighs.

“Alright, I’ve lost interest. Can we go inside now?”

“I’m right behind you,” I murmur absently, now scanning the text at the bottom of the poster.

“Dilara, Christian is literally looking right at you from the Red Bull enclosure.”

That gets me to pay attention. I snap away from the poster in the parking lot and join a mildly smug Max as he makes his way into Suzuka, the circuit in Japan. One of the last races of the season, Japan is chilly as expected and I internally groan in anticipation of the three days of the weekend that we’ll need to drive around in the cold, waiting for our tires to heat up before they can really zoom.

Thursday is PR day, however. All of us drivers have reached the paddock early in the morning, straight from the airport from the looks of it, while our luggage gets wheeled to our hotel about twenty minutes away from the circuit. I’m not the only one that’s jetlagged and bleary-eyed; from across the paddock, I see Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, in Ray Bans and what looks like a set of robes over his jeans, rubbing his eyes as he looks down at his phone. Behind him, Daniel Ricciardo and his trainer Michael appear in identical McLaren hoodies, slow and unsmiling, with large coffees in their hands. I take a sip from my own when Max groans.

“What a shitty PR schedule?” Max doesn’t bother with any more small talk and gets straight to the point. “Why can’t we just have PR where all we need to do is sit and answer a bunch of questions?” he complains, reaching for my cup without permission.

I make a sound of annoyance but let go of the cup without much protest. Becoming friends with Max was as easy as it was unexpected, despite the fact that I share a first name with his ex. We don’t talk about it or even refer to it, but when everyone was in Monaco a week early for Daniel’s birthday party, the unspoken assumption was that I would be crashing at Max’s.

“One final year of Honda PR,” I tell him, trying to be comforting but failing, for I don’t want to sit around while a bunch of people talk in Japanese and Christian, our prematurely greying team principal in his early forties, pretends to not be annoyed while he answers questions in his dry English accent. “Gotta suck it up, though. They did deliver some pretty good engines the last couple of years. I was hoping to get in a quick workout today before leaving, though. It’s like a three hour drive to Tokyo.”

“Taking time away from your fangirling, is it?” Max grins when I squirm, reaching over and snatching my coffee back.

“I don’t fangirl,” I reply shortly. “Not in public anyway.”

“What about -”

“And that one night in Ibiza.” I don’t bother explaining to him that I was drunk and that the entire club was jamming to Daechwita. Max just wouldn’t understand.

He does give me a look, though. “You’re telling me you won’t fangirl while you’re at their concert? How would that even happen?”

“So we’re officially using fangirl as a verb, then? Believe me, no one’s going to be noticing what I’m doing at the concert,” I inform him confidently. “There’s probably a one percent overlap between BTS fans and F1 fans anyway - I’m pretty sure I’ll be anonymous.”

“Oh, sure, we’ll see.”

Over the year or so that I’ve known Max, I’ve gotten used to his need to add a sarcastic comment everywhere, irrespective of the context, which is why it takes me almost a minute to process what he’s just said.

“Wait.” I slow down slightly before frowning up at him. “What did you just say?”

Max raises his eyebrows under his Red Bull cap, ignoring a photographer who darts in front of us to take a picture (Red Bull teammates enter the paddock together!). “I said we’ll see.”

“Yeah, but… you’re being facetious, right?”

“Not a hundred percent sure what that word means but I’m going with no.” When I stare at him, eyes widening, he frowns in confusion. “I meant, we’ll see because we’ll be there,” he explains kindly.

“No, no, no, no,” I mutter, slapping his shoulder. “What does that mean? How are you - how did you even get tickets?”

“Lily got them for us.”

Lily, meaning Lily He, Chinese-American golfer dating Alex Albon, another fellow driver. Also the person who got me my ticket. “Um -” I clear my throat, trying to make sense of this. “Lily said she was getting tickets for us.”

“Yeah. That’s what she did,” he says calmly, reaching for my coffee again.

“No, as in, her and me, us,” I say tightly, feeling my heart race. Max Verstappen cannot see me at a BTS concert. “And Lexie, of course.

“Didn’t Lexie get food poisoning or something?”

I sigh. My trainer and probably the closest friend I have these days threw up on the flight from London to Tokyo and given the tight circle that is the F1 community, the news probably travelled to everyone before we even landed. It’s a blow, but there’s not much I can do about it.

“Yeah, she did,” I confirm, trying to hide my disappointment at losing my trainer for a day. “I told her not to eat ramen at Kuala Lumpur airport. Anyway,” I add hurriedly, getting back on track, “I thought Lily would just give that ticket to Alex and that’s it.”

“Oh, so you don’t mind if Alex goes with you?”

“No. He’s nice. And he can't make fun of me without making fun of Lily, too,” I point out, shrugging.

“Well, Lily’s us definitely included more people than you and Lexie. She got tickets for George and Lando, too, but George isn’t landing until the evening so -” He shrugs exaggeratedly, clearly oblivious to my growing horror.

George, Alex’s oldest friend and driver for Mercedes wouldn’t have been half bad. He teases and banters but is overall a decent guy. Lando, of course, a twenty year old twerp in McLaren who’s sure to have at least ten memes of me floating around by tomorrow morning, might be an even worse addition than Max.

“This is a nightmare,” I state as we reach the Red Bull garage. “Just be warned, Verstappen. I still have that video of you at that Martin Garrix concert.”

“Point taken. And don’t worry - we just want to get out of this town and see Tokyo before the race weekend officially starts,” he adds, sounding almost sincere as we pass another giant poster of him and I. “If your fangirling is the most fascinating thing we see there - not our fault.” We automatically separate to enter our own garages, right after I knock his baseball cap off his head and he playfully shoves me. “We’ll head out at four, yeah?” he calls, turning around and walking backwards, hands in his pockets.

It’s far from ideal; while everyone I’m having to go with tonight is ultimately a friend, they’re also a competitor, which means there’s still a certain distance I need to keep with each of them. Going to a concert together isn’t a bad thing at all, but watching me tearfully scream in extremely basic Korean at performers my own age is not something I want them to see. Ever.

I suppose I don’t have a choice. I’ve never been lucky enough to snag tickets to a BTS concert, mostly because I’ve never been in the same location. This time, though, their calendar and the F1 calendar have somehow overlapped - and even that’s only due to a stroke of luck that they decided to add a few more Asian concerts before their tour officially comes to a close.

I had no idea, of course; ever since I moved from F2 into F1, I’ve only barely managed to keep up with their music, let alone anything else - I couldn’t even tell you what colour hair they’re currently sporting. Today is the last concert, though - the absolute last one - so when Lily called me as she sat in front of her laptop, waiting to pounce the moment tickets went live, I said yes without a second thought.

After an hour at the gym and a quick shower, I reach the paddock the same time that Max does. Near the Red Bull enclosure is a huge standee with both our faces on it, similar to the one I was staring at in the parking lot, Max looking smug and so Dutch while I tilt my chin down and look up with only a hint of a smile. It was a suggestion from my publicist: “You’re a girl - the only girl - and people will underestimate you. Try not to smile too much. Stay somewhere in between the Gasly and Raikonnen territory - far away from the Ricciardo area.” Under our picture is a stream of sponsor logos, starting with Honda. I frown as we walk past it, still unable to put my finger on what’s wrong with it.

Once we’re inside, I’m descended upon by hair and make-up, who touch up my cheeks and hair until PR officially starts. Half an hour in, I’m taking a break outside my garage, drinking a bottle of water and talking to Tom Clarkson, a journalist, who’s passing by on his way to the McLaren enclosure when I see a handful of photographers approaching, backs to us, busy taking pictures of someone. My first thought for some reason is Yuki Tsunoda, the only Japanese driver, but he’s no longer on the grid… I frown, but all it takes is a moment where the photographers back away and I recognise the guest immediately.

Or guests, I should say. I can hardly believe my eyes. I almost hope I’m having a moment of unconscious bias and mixing my Asian men but I know that’s an empty hope. There’s only four of them, but they’re unmistakable: the tallest, the visual, the pretty one and the one with the cheekbones. I haven’t had favourites in this band in years, but I would recognise their faces anywhere. It’s only when Namjoon points at Max’s banner on top of his garage that I realise I’m shamelessly staring.

Calm the fuck down, Dilara. I avert my eyes instantly, wishing Tom had stayed so that it would force me to rein in the fangirl inside me, but before I can, one of the Honda PR guys meets them and says something in Japanese - presumably - and points at Max’s garage. There’s a moment of foreboding when I remember that Max is still in PR and therefore the only driver left is -

“Dilara Komyshan!” The Honda guy points at me and I make out my name in the flurry of Japanese as all four members turn to look at the same time. An entire year of media training means I automatically smile and give them a small wave as they approach. Namjoon is, as expected, the first to speak.

“Dilara, great to meet you,” he says, smiling and offering his hand. The others next to him wave and mutter their greetings. My first thought is that they’re taller than I expected - or maybe that’s because everyone looks tall when you’re five foot one. They’re also… bigger than I expected. They’re lean, but camera angles must be a thing because I suddenly feel like they’re towering over me.

They must have really taken me off guard, for without thinking, I go, “Aren’t there more of you?” I realise what I’ve said only after I’ve said it. There’s a moment of silence before all of them snort. Even though I’m embarrassed, I’m also glad; there’s usually no better way to start off a conversation than a joke. “Just four of you performing tonight?”

They’re just about coming around. “They were too lazy,” says Jimin, his smile even prettier in person. “Are you coming to the concert?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“First time ever,” I confess, crossing my fingers before cringing and lowering my hand. “But at least I know my favourite members now,” I add, gesturing to them and Jimin winks.

I know what I’m doing - and I have a feeling they do too. It’s not a big deal, but it does happen remarkably often. Every time a male celebrity comes to the paddock, they inevitably pass by Red Bull to meet the first and only girl on the grid. It’s never to hit on me or anything, but as per my publicist during media training: “There’s probably something about the sudden dip in testosterone in the interaction that if you flirt, they will reciprocate”. It was subtle, but I knew what she was telling me to do.

“Well, I’m everyone’s favourite.” Jin deadpans and Jimin snorts again, but my eyes automatically go towards the only member that hasn’t spoken yet. Taehyung, in a loose brown button-down and black trousers, stands silently behind the other three, his smooth face betraying only the tiniest of smirks. He’d laughed at my joke - I think, for he’d lowered his head, too, but his long hair had obscured his face entirely. Now, his dark eyes snap from Jin to me in an instant and I hold his gaze for a moment before I look back at Namjoon, who’s now talking about why they’re in the paddock. I try to pay attention, for I really do want to know why, but I’m still hyper aware of Taehyung looking at me.

Just media training. I force myself to think of them as any other celebrity; the last and only time I’d been this starstruck was when Daniel Craig had come to Silverstone in England and the humiliation of that day is not something I wish to repeat ever again, especially not with BTS.

Thankfully, another member of the Honda team appears next to me and greets them, and without thinking, I look back at Taehyung. This time, he holds my gaze for a couple of moments before turning his attention to the Honda guy. I don’t even try to follow the conversation; I just stand there politely, silently daring Taehyung to look at me again. When I chance it, his face is still smooth and impassive, with that same slight smirk as he listens to the conversation in front of him, almost as though he knows I’m looking at him. At that point, the Honda guy asks a question and Taehyung replies in Japanese, voice surprisingly deep and deadpan as ever, and the other three burst out laughing at whatever he’s said. He simply grins, clearly aware of how funny he is, and flicks his long hair out of his eyes.

At that moment, an arm goes around my shoulder and someone else joins me. “Dude, I think I figured out what’s wrong with the -” Max breaks off abruptly when he looks up, noticing only then apparently that I’m not alone. “Oh, hi, I’m Max,” he says, leaning forward to shake each of their hands.

As they greet each other, I struggle not to roll my eyes because despite Max’s sub-standard acting, none of this is a coincidence. One day, last year, when Tom Holland had come to the Portuguese Grand Prix and stopped by our garage to talk to me, Max had slithered next to me exactly like this and whisked me away, introducing me to the move. When I’d been most unimpressed, he’d informed me that there was no better way to gauge the interest of a man I’d just met than to see his reaction when another man entered the picture.

It seemed vaguely prehistoric and sexist, not least because he’d just assumed that I cared at all about a man’s interest on a race weekend, but its results had proven undeniably effective. Tom Holland had slid into my DMs that very night, Harry Styles had retweeted a picture of me and him the day after I’d met him at the French GP with a questionable caption, and Michael B Jordan - Michael B Jordan - had sent flowers straight to my London apartment. Nothing had ever happened with any of them, of course, but their gestures had been enough for me to gain a little extra, if begrudging, respect for Max.

I look up to see if Max’s move today has generated any desired results, only to see Taehyung looking at me again, face completely unreadable. His gaze flickers momentarily to Max before meeting mine again, before he flicks his hair out of his eyes and looks away towards Jimin, jawline sharp. Jackpot.

Meanwhile, Max tugs slightly. “Natalie’s waiting for us,” he tells me, pointing to the blonde journalist next to the garage, and the boys seemingly get the hint. They start saying their goodbyes and I wave back, when Namjoon says, “Hope you have a good time tonight.”

I start to smile and nod, when next to me, Max beats me to it. “Oh, we will,” he says casually, making me want to hit him. But I rein it in to the best of my abilities and simply smile, just needing this awkwardness to be over.

“See you tonight,” says Taehyung, face smooth and impassive.

I stare, for his tone makes it seem like it could be directed at both me and Max, but his eyes are still on me. The other members don’t seem to notice anything strange but I suddenly feel unbelievably grateful for Max Verstappen.

“Yeah. I can’t wait,” I add, waving and taking a step back and Max’s arm drops from around my shoulders. “Good luck.” As we walk away, Max leans down slightly.

“Think it worked?” he mutters.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say automatically. “But… what are they doing here?”

“It’s a Honda and Samsung event this weekend,” he answers, clearly pleased that he knows something I don’t. “That’s what’s wrong with the poster. There’s a Samsung logo in there. Your boyfriends got paddock passes.”

Elbowing him in the side and ignoring his grunt, I glance back one more time, making sure to flip my hair a little and see the band walking away as well - with Taehyung glancing back at me, face unreadable, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur of random PR until we hurry back to the hotel to get ready for the concert. Tokyo is a good three hour drive away but with four F1 drivers in the car, we easily make it in under two and a half. Since Lando and Alex seemingly have no intention of drinking at all tonight, Max, Lily and I relax a bit and decide to have a good time, pre-gaming with a round of shots at a sushi bar close to the venue.

We have good seats; since we’re all VIP (“Lily, I could kiss you.”) and have a balcony to ourselves, we’re allowed to be liberal with seat numbers and, more importantly, are allowed alcohol. Lando, true to form, procures beer from somewhere, placing two six packs under one of the seats and passing cans of some Japanese brand around. About fifteen minutes before the band is announced, by which time fans are already screaming in the thousands and we are buzzed as hell, a bouncer-type comes up to us.

“Komyshan?” All four of my companions point to me as I raise my hand curiously. He hands me a white envelope, shrugging when I ask him what it is before walking away.

As he leaves, I tear it open to find a card in my hand, approximately the size of my phone. There’s a picture of BTS on one side, with the logo and details of today’s concert. On the back is a QR code, followed by the unmistakable words that tell me what it is, despite my disbelief: a backstage pass. For a moment, I’m speechless while Lily groans softly in longing and Alex and Lando frown. “How’d you get that?” Alex asks, looking over my shoulder with ease, six foot frame coming in handy.

I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how they knew for sure that I’d arrived, when I had, and how the bouncer had found me. Fortunately, Max comes to my rescue once more. “She met the band today,” he says nonchalantly. Alex and Lily shrug it away, the latter still eyeing the pass in disappointment, but Lando, who is no stranger to my occasional brushes with male celebrities, raises an eyebrow knowingly.

“Shut up,” I mutter, even as I continue to wonder how and why they’ve singled me out with a pass. As far as I remember, backstage passes aren’t even a thing BTS does very often. In fact, I’m not even wholly sure that it’s from the band. The smallest, most optimistic part of me that’s replayed my brief interaction with Kim Taehyung over and over in my head, feels convinced that it’s he who’s sent it - or at least it’s he that the rest of the band has agreed to send it for.

But when the band finally comes out and the crowd screams deafeningly, my heart sinks a bit, for there’s no way in hell that I’m the only one that has a backstage pass. Immediately, I feel like slapping myself for reading this deeply into an interaction that had lasted less than three seconds - in fact, if I have to guess, Taehyung doesn’t remember it at all and the only reason they’ve sent it is to be polite, since we met in what can be considered backstage at my place of work.

It’s an incredible experience, though. All seven members have a stage presence of their own, different people stealing the show depending on the song. My eyes keep going only to one member, though. When Taehyung sings, smiles, or does literally anything else, I’m left with nothing to do but admire how exhilarated he seems when he looks at the crowd, how his long and sweaty hair falls into his eyes, how his trademark smirk widens to become the smile that I’m sure will one day kill me.

They do plenty of crowd work in Japanese - in which, it seems, most of the band is fluent - and the crowd screams and laughs. None of the five of us understand anything except for the bits they say in English, of course, but Max is hopped up on enough liquor to jam to the music while Lando keeps busy streaming what feels like the entire concert, and Lily and I sing along to nearly every song.

At first, the distance to the stage had seemed much smaller. I’d half-expected at least one of the members (Taehyung, Taehyung) to spot me but when they’d come on, it was clear that they were performing to the crowd and not sections of it. The realisation had been mildly disappointing but it also meant that I could enjoy the concert without feeling too conscious, even as I forced myself to remember the people I was here with.

It’s objectively a wonderful concert. At the end of it, Lily and I are still buzzing as we head out with the guys. Just as we reach the door, I stop.

Max turns. “What?”

I don’t answer. The backstage pass feels like it’s burning a hole through my sling bag. I want to go, but this would be the first time in my whole life that I’ve ever entered a party alone. Max seems to know where my thoughts are. “You want to go?”

“I -”

“Of course she does!” Lily exclaims. When I say nothing, she turns to me incredulously. “You - you do, right? You actually have a backstage pass, Dilara,” she explains to me slowly, as though I’m a toddler. “This chance will literally never come again.”

“But…” I’m suddenly stumped. “What - what do I do backstage? What do people do at parties? Do I - do I mingle?”

Alex and Lando, my fellow introverts, seem to seriously ponder this question. Max just squints at me thoughtfully while Lily half-glares at me. “Yes,” she deadpans.

She’s right, of course. I take out the pass and stare at it, hoping the answer will jump out at me. Finally, I look up. “If I’m not back in fifteen, you guys go on without me.”

Lando's eyebrows rise high up his forehead as Lily beams, but Max is much less subtle. He snickers and nods, telling me in a low voice to go and get lucky. Ignoring him, I take a deep breath and head backstage.

It turns out that "backstage" isn't actually backstage at all; a docent informs me that the backstage party is taking place at the hotel across the street where the band is staying tonight before leaving for their next destination in the morning. When I reach, the party is in full swing. I was right: there are at least a hundred people here, most of them girls, almost all of them with drinks as a Dua Lipa song plays on the speakers.

It's not as dark as I'd expected it to be. In fact, it’s less like the rock and roll afterparties I’d imagined and more of a lounge night, with a nice vibe and what looks like an open bar. The lights are dimmed and the music is blaring, but I spot the band almost the moment I enter. I spot Namjoon with a drink, standing with Jin and Suga as they laugh at something. Next to them is Hoseok, enthusiastically talking to a couple of girls, both of them hanging onto his every word. On the other side, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook bop to the music together, looking effortlessly graceful as they do so.

Now that I've spotted the maknae line, I have no idea what to do. It's far too awkward to walk further into the party while not knowing a soul. Even when I scan the rest of the crowd, I can’t really tell who they are. They definitely aren’t fans; everyone is dressed in designer-wear which makes me wonder if this, too, is a PR-related afterparty. It would certainly explain my presence here. Just as I start to wonder if this is all a terrible idea, from all the way across the room, Taehyung's eyes meet mine.

Before anything else can happen, though, we're blocked by a bunch of people entering the makeshift dance floor. Suddenly feeling uncomfortably alone, I go to the bar and order a beer - anything to not feel this awkward. The feeling doesn't last, though, and when another ten minutes pass and I don't see Taehyung anywhere, I get ready to admit defeat.

I turn around to leave, placing my beer on the bar and calling Max, when I finally see him again. I don't know if he knows that I was just about to leave, but this time he sees me and starts walking straight towards me, squeezing through the crowd of dancing people.

I stay rooted to the spot, my phone at my ear but the ringing sounds more distant by the second. When he reaches me, he places a hand behind me on the bar and leans in to speak into my ear. His long hair brushes my cheek and I catch a whiff of cologne.

"Do you want to go somewhere quiet?" Taehyung asks, sounding like deep velvet.

Finally.

I hesitate for a second and then nod, trying not to seem too eager, and motion for him to lead the way. My phone call is forgotten as I follow him through a side door, a couple of dark corridors and two flights of stairs to what looks like a balcony. I step out onto it, registering the long patch of fake grass and soft and sparkly lighting, to see us overlooking the pool of the hotel. Okay, this is it.

I can feel Taehyung behind me, albeit a few feet away. I turn around to see him with his hands in his pockets, long hair falling into his eyes, surveying his surroundings with a mildly satisfied expression - I can’t tell for sure, because his face is just so goddamn unreadable. His eyes land on me, though, and - I know it sounds ridiculous - but the night suddenly feels warmer.

“I feel like Rapunzel,” I begin, peering over my shoulder at the ground again, not knowing how else to mention my deathly fear of heights. When Taehyung simply tilts his head curiously, I continue. “Rapunzel. She had really long hair, locked up in -”

“No, I know Rapunzel,” he interrupts, looking slightly amused. “Should I rescue you, princess?” he asks seriously, raising his hand to his side in a fist as though holding an invisible sword.

I almost laugh. The Paddock’s Princess was what the media had titled my first feature article when I started in Formula One, a slightly sexist nod to the first girl in the sport. Some fans who couldn’t stand the sight of me on the grid used it with vigour on social media until my fellow drivers started deliberately using it, too, succeeding in eventually turning it into a somewhat casual nickname rather than an insult.

I highly doubt Taehyung knows this. In fact, hearing the name come out of his mouth makes me feel something else entirely. It’s incredible that he’s already eliciting such ridiculous thoughts in my mind; the only saving grace is that I’ve resisted displaying it so far - and it’s only because he seems to know the effect he has on me. “Oh, please, my prince,” I answer dryly, putting a hand to my chest. “Help me?”

Taehyung smirks, like he’s enjoying an inside joke. “Did you enjoy the show?” he asks, voice calm and deep. The Korean lilt in his voice is more pronounced than some of the other members’, based on the few things they’d said on stage and certainly more than Namjoon’s. It makes my toes curl inside my shoes.

“Of course,” I say honestly, leaning back against the railing. “My friends enjoyed it, too.” I say it without thinking but if Taehyung thinks of Max, he doesn’t show it.

“Oh, I know. I saw you dancing.”

I raise my eyebrows, genuinely surprised. “You - you did? There were some ten thousand people there.”

“You were in the VIP box. It wasn’t hard.” His smirk is more pronounced now as my face starts to heat up. “You’re a good dancer.”

“Thank you. You’re a good singer.”

That makes him laugh. His smile hits me like a ton of bricks and I know that I absolutely have to see it again, that I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. “Show me what you know,” he suggests.

I laugh nervously. “No… no way. My dancing is for my trainer and my studio only.”

“Isn’t there a video of it?”

I stare, having forgotten this rather important detail. “There is, but that was filmed against my will.” I shake my head. “I don’t - I don’t dance in public.” Definitely not in front of an idol who does it professionally.

“You were fine dancing in public during the show,” he points out. If my mortification shows on my face, he doesn’t comment on it. “If you dance, I’ll sing,” he suggests.

It hardly seems fair, so I cross my arms across my chest and raise an eyebrow. In response, he simply sits on the floor on the fake grass, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him, looking up at me expectantly.

“You really want to see me dance to one of your songs?”

He shrugs. “I performed for you,” he points out.

I scoff. “You didn’t perform for me, you performed for the thousands of fans in the audience.” I cringe inwardly the moment I’ve said it, half-expecting a corny line like But I was only looking at one, but all Taehyung does is slowly smirk a bit more, as though daring me to guess what he’s thinking.

"Oh, come on, don't be afraid to get it wrong," he says smoothly. "I'll help you." He says it very casually but I have a feeling he knows what he's doing, because despite how nervous I am, the one thing I can’t let go of as a professional athlete is a challenge.

“I’m not afraid.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because based on his smirk, he knows he’s hit a nerve. “Dance for me, princess,” he says softly, only halfway back in character.

I would normally die rather than say this, for it’s the most filmy line imaginable. But then again, nothing about this night feels real, so I say it before I can stop myself.

“Make me,” I say, meaning it.

Taehyung stares. Then he shrugs and stands up, dusting off his hands as he comes up to stand behind me. My smirk fades when I realise he’s taking me at my word.

“Like this,” he says, turning me slightly so that we step together. He’s just about a head taller than me; the top of my head reaches his jaw and his chest brushes my back. I do my best not to sink into him and try instead to focus on what he’s doing. “And up, step, step, turn…” Taehyung’s hands fall from my shoulders to brush my arms and down to my hands, so casually that I barely notice until the last step when I turn around and he doesn’t. Instead, our arms crossed and fingers still intertwined, he lowers his head and kisses me mid-turn.

Or I kiss him. I’m not sure. But we kiss, and all I can think is Fucking finally and Holy shit, this is what people mean when they say fireworks. One of his hands drops mine and comes up to my face, brushing my hair. It’s a really, really nice kiss, all lips and butterflies and hormones. I start raising my hand, wanting so badly to run it through his hair when his phone rings.

Taehyung pulls away, face scrunched up in annoyance and embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, dropping my hand and reaching for his phone. “I need to -”

“Go ahead,” I tell him, taking a small step back, feeling somewhat glad that I get a few seconds to process what’s just happened. He nods and touches my arm before stepping away and answering the call. All I can make out is Jungkook’s name amidst all the Korean. If I have to guess, his bandmates are trying to locate him. I remember then that I’d called Max a while back; I whip out my phone and find a message from him.

Did you call me? We’re at a club one block over and I can’t hear a thing. A few minutes after this message, he’d sent another. Oi, Komyshan. You alright?

I frown, trying to suppress my smile at how perfectly alright I am. I turn around to see Taehyung still on the phone, body tilted towards me but looking away as he speaks to Jungkook. Suddenly, even though he tries to cover it up, I hear my name. It’s the first time he’s said it - Dilara - and with his deep, raspy voice and Korean lilt, it sounds like a song. I make up my mind in an instant and reply to Max. I’m good.

Taehyung’s call ends and he puts his phone back in his pocket before walking up to me slowly. “So… where were we?”

I grin. “You were teaching me how to dance.” Just as he nears me, I take a step back. “Uh-uh. You aren’t going to rescue me from this big, scary tower first?” I ask dramatically, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

He stops in his tracks. For a moment, I’m afraid he thinks I’m a complete lunatic. I know half my friends definitely think that, every time they ask me the time or to pass them a bottle of water, and I respond with a line out of a movie. But before I can step back and hastily apologise, he grabs my wrists in his hands and tugs.

“It’s more fun if I’m the one holding you up here,” he suggests, tilting his head again like he’s asking my permission to change the story. When I bite my lip, trying to suppress a smile, he tightens his grip and narrows his eyes. “You can’t escape me, princess.”

“Yeah, I think I’m okay with that,” I murmur, throwing caution to the wind and reaching up to kiss him again. He responds immediately, pulling me even closer as his arms go around my waist, his much taller figure engulfing me as I stumble backwards.

Keeping me close, Taehyung snickers against my lips. “You’re a very easy captive,” he teases, biting my bottom lip and kissing me immediately, swallowing my gasp of surprise.

“I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than you,” I inform him, wrapping my arms around his neck and finally running a hand through his thick hair, returning his kiss. “I could totally get out of this if I wanted to.”

“M-hm?” Taehyung brings a hand up to my face to kiss me deeper and I feel all vestiges of self-control about to leave me. “It’s a good thing you don’t want to, no?” he mutters, backing me into the railing before pulling away. “Still want to be rescued?” he asks cockily, tilting his head towards the drop.

Barely suppressing a smile and feeling my cheeks flushed, I playfully push him in the chest, making him stumble. “I can escape you all by myself,” I remind him, ducking out from under his arm and walking away, my heart skipping a beat when I hear him laugh behind me.

Before long, we end up lying down on the grass next to each other, making out, playing around and just talking for what feels like hours. His grasp on the English language is better than he gives himself credit for; it’s good enough to carry on a conversation, like we’re doing, although he does stop every now and then to recall a word or to ask me for one. I remember how he didn’t speak much at the paddock; does it mean he trusts me a bit more now? It’s strange but I know I do, enough for someone I’ve known for less than half a day, enough that talking to him feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

“You can call me Tae, by the way,” he says after a while, lying down on his back with his shirt unbuttoned and looking up at me. His long hair looks jet black against the bright green grass and, finally giving into my urge, I reach over and brush his bangs out of his eyes from where I’m lying down on my stomach next to him, propped up on my elbows. “Although I like how you say Taehyung, too.”

I bite my lip. “Really? I think I’m getting the accent wrong.”

“Not really. Where’s your accent from? It sounds English, but…” He tilts his head again, squinting slightly.

“Yeah, it’s English, mostly,” I reply, a bit evasively. “I moved to London when I was a kid so my old accent is probably in there somewhere. I think I’ll just call you Tae, though,” I add quickly, hoping to move on. “And you can call me…” I trail off here, because I don’t actually have a shortened version of my name that anyone calls me. “Just Dilara, I guess.”

Taehyung chuckles. “It’s a nice name,” he remarks, playing with the ends of my hair where it’s falling down my shoulder. “Sounds really nice. Dilara.”

I lower my head slightly, feeling my face get hot, suddenly glad I don’t blush. “Thank you. It’s Persian. My mother named me.”

“Is she Persian?”

“Not exactly.” He continues looking at me expectantly, so I give him one more detail. “She’s Asian.” I don’t go any further and I can tell he’s picked up on my deliberate silence.

“You’re Asian?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” His face is unreadable once again, but I can hear the curiosity behind that one word. I picture him trying to place me, taking into account my name, the beige complexion, my facial features and eliminating East Asian countries immediately. I feel my stomach squirm unpleasantly the longer he watches me and I drop my gaze. His slender fingers have paused, a lock of my hair looped around one of them. “And Komyshan?” he asks after a moment, a bit softer.

I bite my lip. “It’s Ukrainian. My stepfather is Ukrainian and… I took his name when I turned fifteen.” This is as far as I can go, at least with a virtual stranger, no matter how infatuated I am with him. I wonder if he’ll Google me after this; Wikipedia might be able to shed a bit more light but the most intimate details have thankfully remained wholly private. I raise my eyes to look at him again, making my stance clear.

His expression, still mostly unreadable, can only be described as thoughtful. He’s truly beautiful, I acknowledge, momentarily diverted. After a moment, his fingers resume their absent playing with my hair. “Dilara is prettier,” he says in a matter-of-fact way, as though coming to a conclusion.

Once again, the sound of my name from his lips is enough to get my heart to skip a beat. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” he chuckles, sitting up and gently pushing me back down, his long hair tickling my face as he kisses me again. I kiss him back, sighing into his mouth as he pulls me gently by the waist and, if I’m not mistaken, silently apologising for prying.

I almost forget that it’s a Thursday night before race weekend; being with Taehyung on this balcony with absolutely no one else feels like something you’d see in a movie. We talk well into the night about anything and everything - his tour, my first year in F1, places we’ve visited, funny things that have happened to us. He’s easily one of the most charming and charismatic men I’ve ever met in my life and I can feel myself falling fast and hard for someone who, for all intents and purposes, was a stranger just earlier today.

“So tomorrow is when the race weekend actually starts?”

I nod, mouth full, as I pass him the protein bar. We’re sitting facing each other, cross-legged, sharing a protein bar I found in my bag, the only source of food we have up here. There’s a paper napkin between us on which I’ve drawn a rough sketch of the Suzuka circuit from memory, pointing out the difficult corners everyone’s worried about. Tae watched me as I drew and explained, brushing his hair out of his eyes as his face scrunched up in concentration.

“Tomorrow we get two hours of free practice,” I tell him, already looking forward to it. “We get to just take out our cars and get used to the track. Then we have one more hour of free practice on Saturday morning, followed by Qualifying in the afternoon and then the race on Sunday.”

Tae frowns as he chews. His shirt is buttoned up halfway now and all the sexiness he’d put on a little while back has disappeared. “How do you decide who starts first? In the race?”

“Well, that’s what Qualifying’s for. All twenty cars do the fastest lap they can and the slowest five get eliminated. Then the remaining fifteen do their laps again, and the slowest five get eliminated again. Finally the top ten do their laps one last time and based on everyone’s speed in their fastest lap, we decide who gets to start where.”

“Wow.” Taehyung nods. “Sounds stressful.”

It is, but I don’t say it out loud. It’s an unspoken rule in Formula One - in most sports, I would presume: you never let your competitors see you stressed. Ever. In F1, given that there’s just twenty of us who are friends, teammates and competitors all at once, it becomes all the more difficult but even more important.

The jet lag is properly hitting me now and the concert could not have been easy for him. But it’s clear that neither of us wants to leave. He makes me laugh. So much. It’s insane how witty he is and with my momentary flashes of sarcasm and self-deprecation, we end up laughing so much it starts to hurt. But I don’t lose sight of reality. As time passes, I know that we’re getting just that much closer to probably never seeing each other again.

We’re lying down next to each other on the fake grass while Taehyung absently plays with my fingers, humming something under his breath. It sounds extremely familiar but the drink and the exhaustion is making it impossible to identify and it’s starting to drive me crazy. I think about asking him but that would mean disturbing the moment and nothing right now is worth that.

“How will you get back to your hotel?” he asks after a while.

“My friends are still here in Tokyo, so I’ll go back with them. Whenever they decide to leave,” I add after a moment. I can feel him stiffen next to me and I guess that he’s looking forward to that just about as much as I am. My chest suddenly feels heavy, like it’s closing up, and when I feel my eyes sting, I realise that I absolutely, so badly don’t want to leave. A small part of me notes how ridiculous this is, how extreme my reaction is at the thought of saying goodbye to what is barely even a one-night stand.

Taehyung has asked me another question, but I haven’t heard it. He sits up on his elbows and turns to me and I can see him frown at the look on my face, whatever it is. “What’s - what’s wrong?”

“I -” What do I say? No matter how crazy I’m being, there is no way I can tell him what I’m thinking. I open my mouth and close it again. “It’s - it’s nothing.”

It doesn't work. In fact, his face doesn't move at all. "Dilara." There it is again. He says my name and it sounds like a goodbye song.

I try again. "I…" But it's impossible with him watching me so intently. I look away. "I… don't want to leave," I say slowly, hoping it sounds like I just don't want to leave the city, not that I don't want to leave him.

His face remains as unreadable as ever, but I think I see a flicker of relief in his eyes and the deep breath he takes. He's quiet for a moment where I wonder if I've freaked him out.

"Then don't." He says it in the same matter-of-fact way. I force a chuckle but don’t disagree with him. I look slightly lower; he’s still wearing a bunch of jewellery from the concert. Most of it is pretty blingy, but one of them is a black string with what looks like a guitar pick for a pendant. I want to ask what it is but I’m afraid that if I open my mouth, he’ll hear my voice tremble and then I’ll have to kill myself. So I hook my finger around the string and tug slightly, and he bends his head and kisses me again.

The next thing I know, I’m being woken up by a phone ringing - mine, this time. I frown and look around; it’s still night, I’m still on the balcony, and Taehyung is still with me. At some point, we’ve fallen asleep, me on my back with one leg bent at the knee with Tae beside me, one arm around my waist, one leg on me, and his head buried in my neck. He stirs as I sit up, looking adorably annoyed as he opens his eyes slowly.

I scramble for my phone to see a call from Max. My eyes dart up to the clock on my phone and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s only one a.m.; it’s not great, but it’s not a disaster either. Of course, it means it’s Friday, or -

“FP,” I whisper, realising that no matter how fast we drive to get back to the hotel, if Max and I aren’t in top form for practice, Christian is going to kill us, or worse, kick us off the team. I answer the call, bracing myself.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Hey, Max,” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear the sleep in my voice. “I’m, uh, across the street from the concert. Are you - are you guys leaving?” I turn to see Tae, now sitting up and watching me with sleepy eyes, messy hair and something else in his expression I can’t identify. I can’t help but smile and shake my head at him, when his phone rings as well. He looks at the screen and swears in Korean before picking up the call.

“Wait, who is that?” Max’s epic hearing comes into play. “Are you with -”

“Can you just tell me where to meet you?” I interrupt him, the thought suddenly occurring to me that he probably thought I was at a party this whole time. He gives me a location about two minutes away from where I am and hangs up, but not before telling me to hurry the fuck up.

Shit. Free practice. I’m not drunk anymore, but I’m definitely running on a lack of rest. I have no idea how tomorrow is going to play out but I know I need to leave now. I turn around to see Taehyung hanging up the phone as well.

“I have to go,” he says, already buttoning his shirt, before I can say anything. “I’m sorry, but my car is leaving and -”

“Yeah, I know. Me - me, too.” I don’t know what to do now. Neither does he apparently. We stand facing each other for a moment when I hear a ping. I know it’s a message from Max, that we need to leave, that we’re going to fuck everything up for our team tomorrow if we don’t. So before I lose my nerve, I reach up and press one last kiss to Tae’s mouth.

His hand snaps up to my face and he kisses me back. It takes everything I have to pull away, turn around on the spot and sprint out of there. I take the steps two at a time and run through the halls, hoping that even the slightest dose of the real world will ensure that I don’t cry in front of the guys who will never let me hear the end of it. Mercifully, by the time I’m out of the building, I’m more stressed about finding their car than anything but fortunately, Lando pulls up right in front of me and Max throws open the back door. I jump inside and the moment the door closes, the car zooms forward.

“You alright?” Alex asks from the shotgun seat.

“Yeah, you were gone a while,” comments Lando, his tone betraying all sorts of theories as to why I was possibly gone a while.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I say, reaching for a bottle of water in between their seats and gulping down about half of it. “Just - just tired.” When they all snicker, I just roll my eyes. “Grow up. I was - it was nothing.” Yep, just Kim Taehyung and nothing else. Nothing at all.

“I’m sure “nothing” was sad to see you go,” he smirks into the rearview mirror, catching my eye and making it clear that at least one of his theories is probably confirmed.

“Well, for your information, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, you just get a hickey instead,” says Max, brushing my hair back from my neck. I slap his hand away just as Lily pops her head up from the back row.

“Oh, leave her alone,” she pipes up, almost giving me a heart attack. “She lived the dream. Believe me, D, you are the luckiest girl in the world,” she slurs, patting my shoulder and promptly passing out.

Drunk as she might be, Lily’s words make me feel a bit better. I don’t believe I’m the luckiest, but the fact is, I did kind of live the dream tonight. Leaving Tae… it was harder than I expected, but if I have to, I’ll take what I can and just hope he doesn’t forget me.

I fall asleep in the car. Deeply, deeply asleep. I’m woken up by an equally exhausted Max and all of us clamber gracelessly out of the car and trudge towards the elevators. It opens to Daniel Ricciardo, Lando’s older teammate and resident jock of the paddock, with his trainer Michael inside, both looking sleepy as well.

“Guess we’re all fucked tomorrow, huh,” I comment, rubbing my eyes as we enter, not caring about my smudged mascara. It’s taking everything I have to stay awake - and Max to help me stand upright.

“I can’t believe the traffic,” grumbles Lando, fist bumping Daniel and going to stand next to him.

“Was it just me or were there like ten bellboys in the lobby just now?” Lily mumbles as the elevator starts moving, head on Alex’s shoulder. “Is the President arriving or something?”

“Nah, it’s some celebrity,” says Daniel as my floor arrives. “Some boy band type. That’s why we were down there. I asked for room service like an hour ago…” I tune him out as the elevator door opens and I stumble out, dreaming about my soft bed, when something clicks.

“Wait.” I turn around to see the doors closing. “Wait! What did you say?”

suzuka city

The next morning, I wake up with a mild headache and a desperate thirst. I reach blindly for my phone and realise I’ve woken up before my alarm, an unprecedented turn of events. It’s still nine a.m. though and despite the fact that FP isn’t until after lunch, I force myself out of bed and head straight for the shower, stripping off last night’s clothes on the way. The water is hot and soothing and I end up standing under the shower for a good five minutes, feeling it through my hair before I do anything else.

Last night, despite a revelation from Danny, the only thing I’d managed to do after I entered my room was kick off my shoes, take off my bag and set an alarm before I fell on my bed and passed out. I’d clearly underestimated how exhausted I was, for you’d think that I’d stay up overthinking the obvious, but not only had it seemed far too good to be true, it also made no difference, for Taehyung and I had already said our goodbyes and I’m not sure I can do that again.

But they’re brand ambassadors for Samsung, says a stupid, hopeful voice. Of course it’s them. What are the chances of two K-pop bands roaming around in Suzuka at the same time? But it matters not, for I have not one but two Free Practice sessions to focus on.

I rub a bit of product in my hair and let it air dry as I rummage around in my towel for clothes and make-up. Days without PR are not days where I’m required to wear any make-up but I do anyway, for very few things give me the kind of confidence that perfectly wing-tipped eyeliner does. I don’t have the patience or the will to blowdry my hair today, but I’m satisfied with the natural curls forming so far.

FP’s not for a while but I want to do a track walk this time - Suzuka is not easy on newcomers. And it’s raining today. So I pack a backpack with an extra Red Bull t-shirt and put on normal clothes, along with a Red Bull hoodie on top and head out of my hotel room, switching on my phone to text Lexie that I’m on my way. Before I can, however, I see a bunch of texts: one from Christian, one from Danny, one from Lily, three from Max and a bunch of Instagram alerts. I open Instagram first to see the announcement: Free Practice Cancelled On Friday Due to Rains. Under that it mentions that there’s only to be one FP tomorrow, along with Qualifying - meaning today is completely free.

My first thought is sleep. I’m in front of the elevator when I open the other messages: Christian’s is purely informative, Danny’s asked if I want to explore the city with him and Mike and Charles, while Max has informed me that there’s a FIFA tournament taking place in the game room and if I’d like to join. I’m just about processing that I can’t test my car today, when the lift doors open and I look up to lock eyes with one Kim Taehyung.

He looks just as surprised as I am. A baseball cap perched backwards on his head, he looks up from his phone just when the doors open and his eyes widen, face breaking into a smile that he immediately struggles to suppress. I notice then that he’s not alone; Jimin, with resplendent vermillion hair, has also looked up and evidently recognised me, for he’s looking at Taehyung with raised eyebrows and a Cheshire cat grin. After a moment’s hesitation, I step in and stand next to Jimin, hyper aware of Tae on his other side.

There’s a moment of knowing silence before Jimin asks him something in Korean. Tae clears his throat and replies, and Jimin immediately turns to me with the prettiest smile in the world and says, “Dilara? I’m Jimin.”

I smile back automatically - I don’t know a single person in the world who couldn’t smile back at Park Jimin. “I - I know. We met yesterday.”

“No, I know.”

Okay. “I’m a big fan,” I reply, shaking his hand.

“A big fan of BTS or a big fan of Taehyung?” Next to him, Tae elbows him in the ribs and says something exasperatedly in Korean while I try and fail to hide a smile as I look away, basically confirming whatever Jimin is hinting at.

The elevator continues to descend. “So,” begins Jimin again, “what are your plans for today? Driving?”

“Um, no,” I say slowly, “everything’s cancelled, because of the rain, so no driving for me.” I shrug at him and chance a look at Tae next to him, who’s standing with one hand gripping the railing behind him, clearly listening to every word.

“Oh, so you’re completely free today?” Jimin asks transparently, already looking back at Taehyung with a raised eyebrow. I nod in answer and, as they begin speaking in Korean, I feel something brush my fingers. I look down to see Tae stretching his arm behind Jimin and intertwining his fingers with mine. As the elevator doors open, Jimin steps forward but we stay put, unspoken but clear - and Jimin seems to know it, too.

“He’s ditching us for you today,” he tells me in English as he steps out of the elevator and turns back to us.

“I’m sorry," I tell him cheerfully, not sorry at all, as Taehyung inches closer to me, already hurrying Jimin out.

Jimin grins. "You two have fun," he says knowingly as the doors close. I turn to Tae just as he pulls me to him and, slipping an arm around my waist, lowers his head and kisses me.

I kiss him back immediately, one hand going to the back of his head to his long hair. The elevator moves but I have no idea where to, and I don't care. I can't believe Taehyung's actually here, that I'm actually with him again, let alone making out with him in an empty elevator.

Evidently, he feels the same. His kisses are hungrier than last night and he's holding me tighter, as though he's afraid I'll vanish. Despite that, it still has the same playful, sweet, young feel to it. I run a hand down his chest, accidentally nipping his lower lip when I register hard muscle. While he'd been wearing a loose button down last night, today he's in a more form-fitting white t-shirt and jeans and I finally realise why he looked so much bigger in person than on screen. It doesn’t help to be thinking about this while we’re making out, as I find out when I involuntarily sigh into his mouth and immediately feel his jeans move. Given a choice, I'd do him right now.

But I can't. Eventually, before we both have a PR disaster, I reach for the cap on his head and take it off, pulling away and placing it on my own head. Tae pulls away and smiles down at me, shaking his hair out. "Hi."

"Hey yourself."

"Are you really free today?"

"Mhm." I nod, reaching up and kissing him again, the adrenaline pumping at the thought of spending time with him again. "One hundred percent."

"Do you want to..." He frowns, apparently searching for the word. "... explore? Explore the city with me?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Suzuka City? Um, sure… it's pretty public but we can -"

"Not exactly -" He starts to say when the doors open again and this time, Charles Leclerc steps inside. Taehyung and I immediately take a step back from each other but the damage is done.

If it's possible, Charles looks even more mortified than us. "Oh - oh, my God,” he stutters, his French accent sounding thicker than ever. “I am - I am so sorry. I didn't -"

"Charles, it’s - it’s okay," I assure him, foreseeing an I am stupid situation come to life. Both boys look so awkward that I decide to introduce them just to say something. "Tae, this is Charles. Charles, Tae."

Two sinewy forearms meet and shake hands, and they nod at each other briefly. "So, uh, I guess you won't be joining FIFA?" Charles asks, as Tae places his arm behind me on the railing.

"That would be a no." Thankfully, the elevator stops then and Charles steps out. Before he leaves though, I call his name. "Um… it goes without saying…?"

It takes him a moment to catch on but he nods. "Of course. I didn't see a thing." He nods at Taehyung and leaves. I try to believe him; I love Charles Leclerc, bless him, but I also know that he's one of the biggest gossips on the paddock. If anyone gets wind of what's been going on since last night…

I frown. It isn’t something I’ve given much thought to, if I’m being honest. I’d just assumed that both of us had to keep this quiet due to the public forums we were on. Before I can think any further about this, Tae nudges me to him.

I’ll go anywhere with you. But before this corny spiel threatens to come out of my mouth, I nod. “Let’s do it.” I promise to meet him outside by the lobby in his rental car and get out on the ground floor so that he can get to the parking lot. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less about where we go. Saying goodbye last night had been harder than expected and despite Danny’s big reveal last night, I hadn’t dared to dream that it was BTS that was staying here.

“So?” he asks again. “Do you want to go on a drive with me?”

I stop at the breakfast buffet to grab a couple of croissants before I exit the hotel and it’s only when I see Melissa Nathoo, an F1 reporter, that I realise I’m still in my Red Bull hoodie. She catches me with a cameraman following her, and shoves a recorder at me. “Dilara Komyshan is here this morning, the third driver we’ve spotted so far,” she says enthusiastically into the camera as she falls into step beside me. “Tell me, Dilara, what are your plans on a rare free day on a Formula 1 weekend?”

I rather like Melissa Nathoo overall and the media is not something to be played with, so I wave at the camera before I answer. “It is quite rare,” I agree, “but I don’t know. Not a lot of rain here yet, so I might check out the city?”

“I hear there’s a FIFA tournament going on upstairs in the hotel,” she says. “I know Max, Lando, Alex, George and Carlos are going to be there for sure. Think you’ll make an appearance?”

I chuckle and shake my head. “It sounds fun but I think I’m gonna have to ditch my boys today for - for something else.”

“Girls’ day it is, then,” she says, completely misunderstanding me but I make no effort to correct her. Behind her, I spot a black SUV with Kim Taehyung in the driver’s seat, baseball cap backwards on his head again, pulling into the driveway. He looks so hot, turning the wheel with one hand and surveying the area around him with his smooth, impassive face. He stops the car when he sees me, the slightest smile appearing and making my heart skip a beat.

I say goodbye to Melissa and, aware of the camera following me as I leave, hop into the shotgun seat quickly and slam the door shut. The car is on neutral and immediately moves forward, and we exit the premises.

“Isn’t the city way too public for you?” I ask as I hand him a croissant.

“Oh, thanks. And, yeah, it is. That’s why we’re not going into the city… exactly.” Tae says no more, just looks out the windshield with the same slight smirk on his face as he dares me to ask where.

I don’t take the bait, though. “How’s that croissant working out for you?” When he chuckles with a mouth full of bread, clearly struggling with managing both the wheel and his breakfast, I roll my eyes. “Want me to drive?”

“But you don't know where we’re going.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. I think.”

I give him a look. “Tae, hop out. I’m the professional driver,” I tell him. “Unlike you, I can drive and eat at the same time.”

He gives me a wounded look even as he stops the car. “But… then what do I do?”

“You give me directions,” I suggest. “Oh, and you’re a professional singer - why don’t you sing for me?”

Taehyung snorts and leans his head back against the seat. “I’ve missed you.”

It’s admittedly been eight hours since we’ve seen each other, but I know exactly what he means. My heart gives a jolt when he turns to me, long hair falling into his eyes. I reach over and brush it away before taking off my seatbelt and hopping out, gesturing for him to get out, too. He groans but gets off as well, brushing my waist as he goes around the car, when I see it. Someone, about twenty feet away, squinting at us.

Without further ado, I slide into the car but don’t start it. I’m sure his fanbase is as strong in Japan as anywhere in the world, so it’s no surprise that someone might recognise Taehyung, but now that I think about it, I’ve never seen any of the boys in the media with a girl before. Ever. I sneak a sideways glance at Tae as he straps on his seatbelt, once again with a mouthful of croissant, and wonder if this would bother him. But when he looks back at me and raises his eyebrows, I can’t think of anything to say.

“Um… I should take this off,” I mutter instead, shrugging off the Red Bull hoodie and tossing it into the backseat. “Too recognisable.”

“Yeah, okay. You can wear mine if you get cold,” he offers, gesturing to the backseat. “Now. Ready to go?”

We end up driving outside the city, from what I can tell. The buildings decrease, the crowds of people start thinning out, and the roads become wider. Tae has Google Maps open, but I haven’t the faintest where he’s directing me to. At first I’d thought we were just driving out somewhere, but it turns out he has a specific destination in mind. He refuses to tell me what it is, stating only that he and a few of his group members had been there last year and he thinks I’d like it. I pretend to be annoyed but it only makes him laugh and frankly, I’m more than okay with this arrangement. I love driving, the roads are nice, the weather is beautiful - and I’m with Taehyung on a rare, free day on an F1 weekend.

Despite whatever I’d said about being able to drive and eat together, Taehyung still ends up feeding me bites every couple of minutes, occasionally licking chocolate off his fingers absently. He does end up singing; he starts off by casually humming random melodies, followed by lyrics, some English and some Korean, and while I recognise some of them, I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s composing music on the fly. I want to ask, but his voice is the drug I didn’t know I needed and I can’t bring myself to interrupt him. Somewhere during the drive, his hand travels to my knee and rests there, big and warm as he occasionally taps along to whatever he’s singing.

“Tae, are you sure you’re reading the map correctly?” I ask about an hour in. So far he’d been confidently giving me directions, but now he’s peering into his phone, looking concerned.

“I think it’s this way…” he says, sounding rather unsure, looking ahead at a mostly blank expanse of the outskirts of the city. “This place does look familiar…”

I turn to him incredulously. “Every place looks like this place. There’s a town in England that looks like this,” I tell him. “Do you want to ask someone for directions?”

Taehyung looks at me and then looks outside, to see absolutely no one around. “Okay, look, it’s okay. Alright? I remember this place. There was a McDonald’s and then there was… you know, that - that tree.”

I can’t remember being this exasperated and endeared towards anyone in my entire life. “Tae?” I have to consciously resist the urge to add a baby after his name. “Just tell me where it is - or even what it is - and we can take the shortest possible -”

“Found it!” He turns to me, eyes wide and bright. “It’s here,” he says, zooming into the Maps on his phone. “It should be… there!” I look to see him pointing in the distance to a low house with a sloping roof and trees around it. “It’s right there! It should only take us…” He checks his phone and his face falls. “... another twenty-five minutes. Shit, I’m sorry, Dilara.”

But I shake my head. “I do this for a living, remember? I’ll get us there in ten. Seatbelt on.” I step on the gas and zoom. By the time we reach and I bring the car to a halt, Taehyung is plastered to the seat, breathing heavily with his face slightly green. When I hastily put on his hoodie, go over to the other side and open the door, he tumbles out, groaning and breathing heavily.

“Oh, my God.” I try not to laugh as I kneel down next to him where he’s curled up on the paved grass.

“Am I alive?” His voice is muffled. “Is the car still moving? Am I dead?”

“Shut up,” I murmur, brushing grass off his white t-shirt as he continues moaning on the ground. “Tae, you’re okay,” I tell him when he finally turns over on his back and opens his eyes slowly.

“I’m never getting into a car with you again,” he says seriously, which only makes me burst into laughter. He shakes his head and closes his eyes again, long black hair looking darker against the green grass. It suddenly reminds me of last night. I think it does the same for him, because he opens his eyes and doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He tugs on the zipper of my - his - hoodie before finally sitting up and shaking out his hair. He throws on the baseball cap and claps his hands. “Ready?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you?” When he chuckles and nods, I stand up and offer him a hand. He takes it but doesn’t let go, not until we reach the gates and he knocks on it with the metallic clasp. A man appears and, after a brief interaction in what I’m pretty sure is Japanese, Tae ushers me inside and takes me behind the house towards what looks like a large grassy field.

“Where are we -” But he shakes his head and gestures for me to keep moving, with his hand hovering over my back across the expanse of the field. I can hear sounds; they’re soft and high-pitched, immediately reminding me of Angry Birds for some reason. When I look back, the man who’d let us enter hasn’t moved from in front of the house and is instead watching us go.

I stop in my tracks before a small dip in the ground. The sounds are louder now and all the other silence is making me uneasy. “Tae…” He bumps into me and I feel myself backing into his chest even more. “Where - where are we?”

“Almost there.” His hands close around my shoulders. When I don’t move, he squeezes them and nudges my head with his jaw. “Dilara, come on, I promise you’ll like it.” It’s only the sound of my name in his deep voice that makes me move forward. Come on, I think, you drive tiny cars at ridiculous speeds. You can take whatever’s down there.

I keep repeating it to myself as we continue walking, Taehyung’s hands on my shoulders the entire time. Finally, when the field opens up and I open my eyes - I had no idea they were even shut - to see a field of -

“Puppies!” Taehyung hops out from behind me and throws his arms out, looking thrilled, evidently gesturing to the large backyard full of puppies of all breeds. The moment Tae backs out into the field, they yelp and yip and swarm towards him, eventually tripping him, where he laughs and stays fallen as three different puppies start crawling on top of him.

My heart is still returning to its normal speed after the anxiety of finding out what it’s in the mysterious backyard, but now it’s beginning to expand, feeling so full and so happy because I know - I just know - that if there is one more sure-shot thing that confirms that I’m falling in love with Kim Taehyung, a field full of puppies is it.

The feeling doesn’t go away the entire afternoon; in fact, if anything, it only intensifies. The serotonin that the puppies provide is incomparable. There have to be at least twenty of them, some bigger than others, all of them thrilled with the entry of two humans they’ve never met before. The owner of the dog farm only appears once after that, briefly, to check if we need anything but apart from that, Tae and I are alone. It doesn’t even matter; I know I could spend hours here, running around with a bunch of puppies and Taehyung, the only person it seems who can actually draw my attention away from them.

I catch him looking at me sometimes; while it’s mostly with laughter and happiness, once in a while, he gets this strange expression on his face, like he’s just noticed that something’s wrong. Every time he sees that I’ve noticed it, however, he shakes his head and smiles, almost like he’s telling me not to worry about it. I try not to - and succeed, for the most part. Most of the time, we’re laughing and cuddling puppies and taking pictures and videos of each other, silently desperate to commemorate today as much as we can.

Hours later, we’ve calmed down, as have the puppies. I’m lying down on the grass, two cocker spaniels curled around each other next to me and leaning their little heads against my waist. I turn my head to the side to see Tae lying back on the grass as well, a labrador falling asleep on his chest, while he strokes its head and hums a song absently. I recognise it instantly; it makes me catch my breath because he’s honestly the last person I would’ve expected to be singing a Francoise Hardy song - but for some reason, right now, it also feels like it makes complete sense.

I’m about to ask when he turns slightly to see me watching him and gives me a small smile, stretching out his arm towards me. I touch his fingers and run my thumb over a ring on his index finger. “Did we really meet at the paddock for the first time only twenty-four hours ago?” I ask softly.

Taehyung chuckles. “Seems crazy, right? I noticed you immediately, though.”

I frown playfully. “Of course you noticed me. You were talking to me - or at least the other guys were. You wanted to look all mysterious and sexy so you didn’t say anything.”

“Aw, come on,” he says, grinning and sitting up on his elbows as the labrador crawls off, “I liked you. You know I did.”

I roll my eyes before looking back up at the sky and closing them. “Define like.”

“Well…” I hear a shuffle and suddenly the sun behind my eyelids disappears and I open my eyes to see Taehyung on top of me, long hair falling on his forehead and into my eyes. “I wanted to do this -” He lowers his head and kisses my cheek “- and this -” He kisses my neck “- and this -” He kisses my lips “- and a whole lot more,” he finishes with a smirk.

Feeling my face heat up, I wordlessly grab the front of his t-shirt, pull him down and kiss him. One hand goes straight for his hair and the other stays where it is at his chest as I kiss him deeply, never ever wanting this moment to end. Tae lowers himself onto me and kisses me back with the same hunger he’d displayed this morning in the elevator; his hand goes down my waist and up my thigh as I bend my leg, and he feels so steady. I want him so bad. He’s in jeans and I’m in pretty solid leggings, but it doesn’t stop me discovering that he wants me too, at least just as bad.

I bite his lower lip and his grip on my leg tightens - and I swear he growls softly - but before I can be sure, I hear a soft yelp and feel something pushing gently against me. Taehyung pulls away immediately to see one of the puppies standing on its hind legs and using my torso to balance. The sight is so adorable that neither of us can ignore it, and he rolls off me onto my other side, breathing slightly heavily.

I sit up and bring the puppy onto my lap before turning back to Tae, who’s lying back on the ground with one hand covering his eyes. I can’t help but snicker at how disappointed he looks, which makes him look back at me and shake his head, still looking a little pissed. All I can hear Just wait until I get you alone again which, combined with how flustered I am, gets me wondering if we can start it back up again right here, right now.

However, just then the owner appears, saying something in Japanese. Taehyung sits up and replies and I get the gist: it’s time for us to leave. It’s just as well; we’re both hungry and tired so we get up and dust ourselves off - he jokingly messes up my hair as he does so before pulling me back into his chest for a quick hug. As we walk to the car, I wonder how much of the small affectionate gestures he’s even really thinking about. With the quick pecks, the occasional squeezes of the shoulder, I don’t know what worries me more: the fact that they’re seemingly natural or how much I love it.

“What do you want to eat?” Taehyung asks me, in the driver’s seat this time. “Keep in mind it’s just a town so we won’t get anything fancy.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who’s into fancy?”

He shrugs. “You’re in the most expensive sport in the world,” he points out.

I give him a look and reach to pick a blade of grass out of his hair. “Fair enough. But I’m hungry and I know we can’t be seen, so I’m good with anything.”

The drive into town is quieter. Tae drives a little slower than I’m used to but it means longer with him, which I’m good with. We switch on the radio this time and a Post Malone song starts from the middle and Tae immediately starts singing along, his deep voice a whole octave lower than Malone’s. I roll down the window and look out, letting the wind blow through my bangs and closing my eyes. I look around after a few minutes to see Taehyung with one hand on the steering wheel and the other pointing his phone at me.

“Tae!” I exclaim, swatting the phone out of his hand as he laughs and swipes it out of my reach. “Eyes on the road!”

Another song starts and this time I recognise it immediately. I look over to Tae to see him smile automatically as Jimin’s voice comes floating out of the stereo. “Can I just say that this is one of my favourite BTS songs ever?” I tell him and his smile gets wider as his part comes and he starts singing along. Just then my phone pings; I open it to see a message from Vicki.

Grill the grid taping at 4:30 with AT guys. Need you in at 4 for HMU and micing.

I stare, my heart sinking. It had been so easy to forget that, technically, this is a working weekend for me. I briefly consider asking Vicki if I really need hair and make-up done, given that Max is probably going to show up looking like he’s just left the gym and Jehan I know for a fact has not shaved in at least a week. I’m wondering how I can word it without sounding like I’m complaining, when Tae notices my expression.

“Everything okay?”

I sigh. “Yeah, I just… I have a PR thing to do today so I have to be back by four. Which gives us…” I look at the clock on my phone, “... a little over four hours.”

Taehyung nods. “That’s not too bad.” After a moment, he turns back to me. “How important is PR again?”

I chuckle. “Well, it’s part of my contract so I’d say it’s pretty -” But I’m cut off by a jerk. The car jolts and revs momentarily, before going still. “What was that?”

He shakes his head, hands hovering over the steering wheel. “I - I don’t know. I think we hit something -” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out, and I do the same. At the front of the car, I see a huge stone that’s stopped the car and is preventing it from moving.

“Damn it. We need to change the tyre.” I turn to Tae. “Do you know how to do that?”

His eyes widen. “Me? Aren’t you the professional?”

“I’m a professional driver,” I clarify. “But I don’t… I’ve never changed a tyre,” I admit, a bit sheepishly. When Tae simply shrugs, I realise we’re essentially stranded. I look around the fairly deserted town area. “Do you think we can find anyone to help us? You speak Japanese, right?” I look back to see him typing something on his phone. “Calling us a cab?”

He shakes his head. “Too risky. I can get the car towed back but to pick us up…” He dials a number and puts it on speaker, holding it between us. I hear what I think is Namjoon’s voice, but the conversation takes place fully in Korean. I hear other voices in the background which I presume is the rest of the band. At one point, he asks Taehyung a question and Tae, after a brief glance up at me, says my name in the midst of a long sentence. In the background, the rest of the boys hoot and Tae shakes his head, fighting a smile. The conversation ends after a few minutes.

“Okay, so Namjoon hyung is coming to pick us up,” he informs me, putting his phone back in his pocket. “We just need to get out of this district - it’ll take ages for him to navigate his way through the dirt roads.” He flashes me a heartbreaking smile. “Ready?”

The towing company arrives - surprisingly quickly - and arranges to take the car back to the hotel. I just about retrieve my bag before Tae pulls me back by the arm out of the way so that the giant tow truck can get the car off the ground. Once the car is gone, we start walking.

Even though it’s not really a surprise by this point, it’s amazing how quickly time seems to pass when I’m with Taehyung. The weather is cool and breezy and the town fairly empty, making it unnecessary to keep our distance too much. We still don’t engage in PDA per se, for it isn’t desolate, but walking together, laughing, and taking pictures and videos of each other doing silly things become so easy, almost natural. It’s the first time in a long while that I haven’t had to worry about photographers, something that’s definitely amplified with Tae, and we get to spend a rare day in privacy.

Taehyung takes so many pictures of everything. He doesn’t have a professional camera with him, something he laments more than once, but his phone seems more than enough as he constantly documents everything, finding even the most mundane object and getting a beautiful shot of it. Even when we’re walking through a canopy of trees and brambles and I’m piggybacking on his back, he has his front camera on and before I know it, snaps a picture.

“The sun’s glare is too strong,” I tell him after a while. I’m lying on my back on the ground where I’d bent down to take a picture of a ladybug. Taehyung is standing over me, hands in the pockets of his jeans, laughing as I point my phone up at him. I think he thinks I’m taking a picture but this moment is too adorable to not record. A few light rays of sun poke out from through the grey clouds behind Taehyung’s head, his dark hair thick and long; he looks like an angel.

“Alright, come on, you’re going to screw up your back,” he says after a while, bending and pulling me up by the hand in one swift movement. I feel a pit of butterflies in my stomach when he pulls me in and casually puts his arm around my shoulders as we continue walking and I show him the video, promising to send it to him.

We finally get to the outskirts of the town where Namjoon is supposed to pick us up. I sit on the pavement and sweep my hair off my neck as Taehyung walks in random circles on the road.

“So, hang on,” says Tae, kicking a stone and watching it roll away. “You’re half-British, right?”

“No, my father was Asian, too. My biological father,” I clarify, automatically clamping up at the topic. “So I’m not really part anything. I don’t know, my mum doesn’t really talk about him.”

“But you grew up in London?”

“Partly. We moved there when I was pretty young,” I say evasively, not wanting to get into how she was essentially kicked out for having a child out of wedlock. “Maybe when I was like eight or nine, and she met Rudy a few months later.”

“Your stepfather?” When I nod, he frowns. “But… what happened to your - your real father?”

I bite my lip. I don’t usually give out details of my family, especially my father. I’ve moved on from it but it’s not exactly a thing about my past that I want the public to know. I look away from Taehyung for a moment, who’s waiting patiently, thinking about how much I want to tell him.

“He, uh…” I wonder why he wants to know. “... he left when my mom got pregnant. Wasn’t ready for parenthood, I guess.” I’m reasonably relieved at how nonchalant I sound. But I can feel Taehyung’s eyes boring into me and the last thing I want to see there is any kind of pity - seriously, it would make me livid if I saw even a hint of it - so in an effort to get far away from this topic, I take a deep breath and lean back on my hands. “How long until Namjoon gets here?”

Tae frowns at the abrupt change of topic but doesn’t comment on it. “Well, it took us over an hour to get here so I guess, around the same?”

I sigh and look away, still a bit put off at talking about my father. I can feel Taehyung watching me and I think he knows what’s bothering me. Either way, he doesn’t prolong it. Instead, after a few seconds, I hear a sound come out of his phone which turns again into Tu les garçons et les filles by Francoise Hardy. I look up in surprise to see Tae holding his phone up with a questioning smile on his face, as if asking me if this is okay.

“I can’t beIieve you know this song,” I comment, unable to stop a surprised chuckle.

His smile widens, obviously relieved at my reaction. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop listening to this song,” he says, walking forward and holding out a hand for me to take. “It makes everyone feel better.” As if to test this theory, he pulls me up when I give him my hand, smiling down at me like the sun. “Now... “ He lets go of my hand and turns around on the spot, looking back at me with an exaggerated sexy look. “... we dance.”

Taehyung dancing on stage or in music videos is addictive. He’s so sexy and so talented that I could watch him and nothing else all day. It turns out, though, that when there’s no one watching and no obligations, Kim Taehyung grooves and bops to music like any other person. I laugh but can’t help but join in with him, dancing along to what is truly a very nice song. He looks so happy that I’ve joined in that it makes it all worth it. Somewhere during the song, he grabs my hand and twirls me into his arms, and we sway to an indie French song on a deserted dirt road in Japan.

“You have a really nice smile, you know?” he tells me, touching my cheek with his finger. “I have a thing for dimples.”

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks but I keep looking back at him. He looks angelic; I try to memorize everything - his hair, his smile, his cheekbones, his lips, his jaw, how his hand is firm on my lower back, how his other hand is gripping mine with his slender fingers - before I shake my head and tilt it. “Flirt.”

“Guilty. What does the rest of your day look like?”

“Well, if we ever get back to the hotel, I have about an hour of PR,” I tell him. “Then I have a drivers’ briefing - although since we haven’t even driven around the circuit yet I’m sure it’ll get moved to tomorrow afternoon. After that… after that, I’m free, I guess.” My gaze involuntarily falls to his mouth and I immediately raise it to look back at him, feeling my face heat up.

Tae simply nods, but I just know where his mind’s at, especially with the small smirk appearing on his face. He spins me around once but I don’t make much effort to hide my smile because I’m so sure that I know where his mind’s at, that the moment this morning in the elevator was something we hadn’t seen last night, that the interruption at the dog farm was only momentary.

After that, both of us seemingly silently agree that we need to keep some distance between us, at least until we get back to the hotel. We share a can of Diet Coke that I find in my bag but it’s practically warm so after I empty it on the side of the road, we end up playing a makeshift game of football with the can.

I’m a pretty good racecar driver, but I suck at pretty much any other sport, apart from swimming maybe. As per his own admission, Taehyung is good at tennis - and anything requiring hand-eye coordination, really - but here, on a dirt road with a can for a football, we’re both abysmal.

It’s so fun, though. We completely forget that we’re hungry and stranded; even kicking around an empty soda can be amazing if Tae’s around, apparently. I’ve always known that he’s extremely good-looking but seeing him like this, happy and care-free, flicking his long hair out of his eyes, tall and lithe - he’s otherworldly. I feel like I could watch him forever. I know I’m not a troll, but I find myself wondering more than once what exactly he seehs in me.

“Okay, okay, it’s happening, I’m doing it!” I kick the stupid can, dribbling it around Tae to get to our makeshift goal. I hear him groan and then feel him grab me from behind, stopping me from going any further. “Hey, that’s cheating!” I exclaim over his laughter, secretly loving the feeling of his arms around me.

He does, too, clearly, for he doesn’t let me go even after I’ve stopped struggling. I look up at him, about to say something, when I hear a shout. Both our heads snap forward to see a black SUV with the Hilton logo on it driving up the hairpin, with someone’s hand appearing out of the passenger window. Whoever it is shouts again, waving, and while I can’t make it out, Taehyung does immediately. He straightens up and his hands come up to my shoulder.

“Jungkook is here,” he says, only the slightest bit of surprise in his voice. “Must have pestered Namjoon to let him come along.” His hands fall from my shoulder and he goes back to sit on the pavement, leaning back on his hands, apparently satisfied that his friends are finally here.

“Oh. Great,” I say, sitting down next to him, his hoodie and my bag in hand. By the tone of his voice, it’s pretty clear that the reason Jungkook has insisted on coming along is because of me. We watch the car approach; when they’re about thirty feet away, I can see Namjoon driving and Jungkook in the driver’s seat, the latter grinning far too widely.

Looking at it, I can feel my nerves beginning to act up. “So, um… what happens if Jungkook doesn’t like me?” I ask, cringing when I hear the nervousness in my own voice.

“Then we’re done,” says Tae casually, before catching sight of my expression. “I’m kidding. Jungkook likes everyone. And you’re not that bad,” he adds generously. “Don’t worry, he’s the nicest out of all of us.”

“I’ve heard. That’s why he’s my favourite one,” I add innocently.

“You said the same thing about Jimin this morning.”

“Depends on my mood. For example, last night I was in a very different mood.”

“Sexy and mysterious?”

“More like curious and horny.”

Taehyung chokes, I look back ahead, chuckling. He mutters something under his breath as his arm goes around my shoulder and he kisses the side of my head casually, naturally. My heart skips a beat and I think I see Jungkook raise his eyebrows in surprise as the car approaches and stops a few feet away from us.

Here we go, I think warily, standing up as Namjoon and Jungkook step out of the car. Namjoon waves at me as he walks over but Jungkook gets to me first, holding out a hand. “Dilara! Finally! It’s so nice to meet you - I’ve heard a lot about you,” he adds, looking over at Taehyung, who’s rolling his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I say absently, because Jeon Jungkook is even better looking in person than he is on screen. He flashes me a smile and I almost forget to breathe for a moment, but then he looks at Tae and laughs at something, nose scrunching up, and he suddenly reminds me of the puppies we’d been hanging out with an hour ago.

Namjoon appears then and greets me with a nod and a smile, looking very tall and leader-like. His politeness is distinct, like he’s had a ton of practice at it. He asks me with a well-placed chuckle how we managed to get ourselves stranded in the middle of nowhere in the outskirts of Suzuka City. I start telling him that all Tae had to do was let me drive, but we get distracted by Jungkook running after him and leaping on his back. Taehyung catches him effortlessly and they begin laughing and joking around, too far for me to understand what they’re saying.

“Are they -” I start to ask but Namjoon beats me to it.

“Always,” he says knowingly. We all pile into the car after that, once Jungkook discovers that neither of us have eaten anything except a croissant hours ago. Namjoon gets into the drivers’ seat and, thankfully, Taehyung and Jungkook slide into the backseat, leaving the shotgun seat for me. I wasn’t crazy about the idea of sitting in the backseat alone with Tae while both his friends shot us side-eye glances trying to observe us. This way, those two have their fun giggling in the backseat while I’m up front with the most intimidating member of the band so far.

We stop at the first fast food place we see, which ends up being a KFC. Once the three guys put on a variety of hats and hoodies, all four of us shuffle in and dive for the menu; when I realise that everything is written in Japanese, I have to rely on the boys to translate and order for me. Taehyung stands behind me at the counter, hands resting comfortably on my shoulders as he peers at the plastic menu over my head. I’m looking up at him and frowning, trying to decide whether to go for chicken or pork, when we’re interrupted by Namjoon who offers to order for all of us.

The food arrives almost immediately but when we look around and see the few other customers squinting slightly at the boys, almost as if they recognise them, we opt to head out and eat by the car. I walk with Namjoon; I discover pretty quickly that as much as my heart belongs to Taehyung, Namjoon is clearly the most interesting member. There’s something so mature, so intelligent, so attractive about him that I immediately feel like I should have been more prepared before meeting him.

It’s also clear that he knows his group members extremely well. The entire time as we walk back to the car, while he’s speaking to me, he’s also keeping a clear eye out on Taehyung as he talks with Jungkook. Even as we sit around the car and devour the food, I feel increasingly like I’m being vetted for the honour of being Taehyung’s… whatever I am. That throws me into a bit of a tangent as my mind instantly starts wondering what I am to him, what he is to me, what we’re doing, what we’re planning to do -

“You want to throw that away?”

My head snaps up to see Taehyung to my left, two empty boxes and a cup of Coke in his hands. He points with the cup to the wrapper in my hand and tilts his head towards the trash can at the door of the restaurant. I take the hint and jump to my feet, so, so relieved at his arrival, and offer to take Namjoon’s wrappers with me as well.

“So?” Tae asks as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Are they being nice to you?”

I scoff. “Of course they’re being nice. And Namjoon…” I glance back surreptitiously, “... God, he’s so cool. It’s like he knows everything about everything.” I look up to see Taehyung raising an eyebrow, looking amused.

“Should I be worried? Am I going to lose you to my fearless leader?” he asks dryly, just as we reach the trash. “Because I can take him. Probably.”

“Probably.”

Taehyung chuckles and, lightning fast, leans over and presses a quick kiss to my lips. Before I can react, he gestures for me to continue walking, smiling down at me as if nothing just happened, brushing a hand down my waist comfortingly as we start walking back. “They like you, too. At least Jungkook does. And I’m guessing Jimin, too, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t have tagged along today.”

“Ah, good. My favourite and my second favourite,” I say, laughing when Tae scowls. We get into the car again, everyone in the same seats, and it’s barely a five minute drive when Jungkook states that he feels like dessert - and not just any dessert, but a specific Japanese sweet that they’d had the last time they were here. Both Namjoon and Taehyung agree immediately and we drive around looking for any passing store that might sell it.

When we finally do, Taehyung volunteers to get out and go buy them while the rest of us stay in the car. He takes our order (I decline since it’s a race weekend) and walks away towards the shop. I watch him - I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop - as he walks away, how he walks with his hands in his pockets, how his long hair brushes his t-shirt at the nape of his neck, how when he turns his head slightly to look for oncoming cars, his haughty features looking like a statue’s.

“He likes you,” says Namjoon from right next to me, almost scaring the shit out of me. I turn to him to see him looking back at me with a peculiar expression, part-knowing, part… approving? Before I can examine it deeper, Jungkook speaks from behind me.

“He really likes you,” he contributes, leaning forward so that his head appears in between our seats. “He usually never makes any effort with girls. Definitely doesn’t ditch us to hang out with one. I mean, you guys are even wearing matching outfits.”

I notice then that we are, kind of; white top and black bottoms, but I ignore this statement in favour of the one before. His words are practically identical to what Jimin had said to me earlier today. Like Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t sound miffed at all; on the contrary, he sounds almost wondrous, as though this series of events had never occurred to him. I can feel my palms getting clammy and the heat rushing to my face, so all I can say is, “Oh, did you - did you guys have - have plans today?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” says Namjoon dismissively, almost like he knows what I’m thinking. “It’s just good to see him like this. Happy,” he adds for my benefit, raising his eyebrows at Taehyung who’s now started walking back with a small stack of boxes the size of my phone.

Jungkook says something to Namjoon in Korean but I lose track. As I watch Tae walk towards us, I struggle for a moment to pinpoint why Namjoon and Jungkook’s words have suddenly made my insides tight. I should be happy, I suppose. I should, knowing that Taehyung likes me so much, that his closest friends in the world have noticed and more or less approved. But all that is overshadowed by the burning question of why? Why does he like me so much when we’ve only just met, when it’s been an unspoken cloud hanging over us reminding us that this weekend is all we have?

As he approaches, our gazes meet - and his eyes light up. It’s subtle, but it’s there and I know it is because even Jungkook behind me whispers wow before asking me if I’m sure that I don’t want one of the sweets. “Um… no, I - I prefer cupcakes,” is all I can manage to say before looking away from Tae. By the time he climbs into the backseat, I’m almost angry at him for making this so much harder.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Tae holding out an open box filled with what look like Reese’s peanut butter cups. His eyebrows are raised and the hand he’d tapped me with is still lingering against my bare arm, but I suddenly find it hard to look at him. So I shake my head and turn back to look ahead.

As we continue to drive, I find that I can’t look at anyone in the car; not at Taehyung who apparently likes me way more than he should, not Namjoon who seems to know way more than he should, and not Jungkook who definitely seems way more excited than he should be. Truth be told, I haven’t the faintest idea what to do with this information and I definitely have no idea what it is that Namjoon and Jungkook were trying to achieve by telling me. So I just stare out the window at the sky, the trees, road signs - anything to distract me.

“Dilara?” Taehyung saying my name sounds like a song again, like his favourite song in the world. “Any requests?”

It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking about the music in the car. “Um…” I turn slightly in the direction of the backseat and shake my head for a moment before looking back out the window. “Not really. Anything’s fine.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence where I can practically feel Taehyung’s confusion at my change in tone. He says something in Korean to the other two, almost accusingly, and while I don’t understand a word of the language, I imagine he’s going What did you two say to her? or something to that effect. I can’t really blame him because, let’s face it, had I been in a similar situation, that’s exactly what I would’ve asked.

My theory is more or less confirmed when, after both mumble answers in equally confused tones, Namjoon looks over at me, asking, “You alright?”

I look back, not wanting to seem rude, and nod. “Yeah. Of course.” I force a smile but I don’t think anyone is fooled. It’s almost too convenient when just a few minutes later, we make our last stop of the drive at a gas station. I mention something about using the washroom and jump out of the car, breathing in the fresh air like my life depends on it.

All I really do, though, is head over the back of the station and lean back against a wall, wondering what the hell to do now and how I can manage to avoid Taehyung for the rest of the weekend when we literally live in the same hotel -

“Hey.”

My heart skips a beat when I see Tae walking towards me, hands in his pockets, long hair falling into his eyes, face as smooth and impassive as ever. I immediately turn towards the wash basin next to me and start washing my hands, letting my hair fall in front of my shoulders and shield my face. “Hey,” I say after a moment, cringing at how fake even the simplest word sounds.

He stops a few feet away from me. “So, uh. My friends told me what they said to you. That I like you." He doesn't stutter around the inadvertent confession. "And that they might have freaked you out.” He says no more, just waiting for me to confirm it.

I swallow, wiping my hands on my leggings and still not looking at him. “Not exactly.”

“Then what is it? Dilara,” he says when I don’t respond. I finally sigh and look him in the eye, suddenly feeling guilty at shutting him out. He looks at me expectantly, perfect features betraying only the slightest bit of concern. “Tell me.”

I bite my lip and look at the ground, wondering how to word this without making it a bigger deal than it is. “You know we can’t… you know that nothing else can happen, right?”

“I know.” His response is immediate, accompanied by a small shrug, confirming that he does indeed know that nothing else can happen. And why shouldn’t he? With my calendar, his job, and both our careers in front of us, of course he knows that nothing can happen.

“Then… why do you like me so much?”

Taehyung’s expression doesn’t change much, except for a small frown. Hands still in his pockets, he shrugs again. “Since when can anyone control how they feel?” He says it like the most obvious thing in the world and all of a sudden, I feel ridiculous. The affection and adoration in his eyes is clear even to me and I can’t believe I’ve just spent the last thirty minutes essentially icing him out, especially when I know we don’t have much time.

“Not me,” I admit quietly, looking at the ground and then back up at him.

His mouth moves just a bit, giving me a small smile. “Look, I know it’s scary and it’ll be… hard, when it finally happens.” Neither of us needs to elaborate on what ‘it’ is. “But today’s not goodbye. We’ll - we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, alright?”

I look away and nod, taking a couple of steps towards him. He meets me halfway and raises one hand to brush my arm comfortingly as his gaze drops to my mouth and back up to me, as though asking for permission. He lowers his head slightly and pauses, waiting for me to confirm that it’s all good. I get on the tips of my toes and kiss him, feeling him kiss me back immediately. It’s a nice, comforting kiss. For about a second.

He moves his hand to my waist just to steady me but it’s right at that moment that I open my mouth slightly, his tongue slips in and I moan softly, making his grip on my waist tighten. All it takes is one look between us before Taehyung has me pinned against the wall, kissing me fiercely and holding me flush against him. My hands go into his long hair and I pull at it, and Tae bites my lower lip. I snake one hand down between us and loop one finger in his belt loop and tug, feeling his pelvis against mine. His erection rubs against my core and I sigh, ready for him to fuck me right here and now. Taehyung’s hand slips down my waist, down my hip and to my arse when -

“Oi! We’re in public!” Namjoon’s furious whisper makes us jerk apart immediately and look around to see if we’ve been spotted. Fortunately, there isn’t anyone around but even I can’t believe how risky that was. That’s hot. Yes, it is, especially when I look up at Tae to see him looking right back at me, panting slightly, lips swollen and eyebrows together, looking pissed that we were caught.

We trail quietly behind Namjoon to the car and get into our seats. While Namjoon looks exasperated as hell, Jungkook can't look either of us in the eye. My face feels so hot that I can’t look at either of them. I can’t look at Taehyung either, but that’s for a whole different reason. As we drive back with nothing but the radio providing any sound, I look out the window, trying not to think about what just transpired and what is sure to be replicated later today.

I count myself lucky; technically, I can think about whatever I want with no one the wiser. Taehyung on the other hand, can’t think of shit without an erection appearing for his friends and the world to see. I can hear Jungkook murmuring in Korean and Tae responding with short, abrupt replies. Our eyes meet in the wing mirror constantly, both of us now knowing what we want and how soon we want it.

It’s a quarter to four by the time we reach the hotel. If I have any hope of making it to PR on time, I have to leave now. I hop out of the car after Namjoon parks and fluff my hair out, checking for my bag and phone before I head out.

“Hey,” says Taehyung, coming up behind me. I turn to see the other two waiting by the car, trying to pretend like they aren’t paying any attention to us. Evidently, Tae’s noticed them too, for he glances back at them before turning back to me. “Do you have to leave now?”

“Yeah. Thankfully it’s happening here at the hotel, so we don’t have to drive to the paddock.” I bite my lip and say no more. This is the awkward part. How do two people who aren’t dating, who’ve literally just met, who aren’t even friends, say goodbye to each other?

“So, I’ll, uh…”

Taehyung nods, taking my hand and linking his fingers with mine. “Yeah, I’ll see you later,” he agrees. I have the strongest urge to brush his long, thick hair out of his eyes, but I’m afraid it’ll be too intimate here. Taehyung sneaks another look back at his friends, who are now not even pretending to give us privacy, before rolling his eyes and quickly kissing me on the cheek.

I try to fight a smile as I shake my head and leave. I rush to the poolside after that where our thing is supposed to be taking place. Jenna from the PR team is waiting for me at a small makeshift energy station with a transparent pouch filled with make-up products and a hair straightener, heated and ready to go.

Max arrives halfway in and Vicki briefs us both about the game while Max sips on water out of a Red Bull can and I sit painfully straight as locks of my hair fall in soft waves down my shoulders. Jehan and Pierre arrive soon after, everyone in their team hoodies. Jenna is holding up a mirror while I apply a nice brick shade of lipstick when Vicki suddenly exclaims that I’m not in Red Bull gear.

It seems to have occurred to everyone only now, five minutes before the interview. I’m still in a plain white top; I’m about to mention that I probably have an extra team t-shirt in my bag when Max tosses me his hoodie, saying with a very Max smugness that he’s not feeling cold at all. I give him a look but put the hoodie on anyway, kind of liking how nice and oversized it is.

All four of us are seated around a small poolside table, chatting as the production team sets lights and mics around us. I go onto my phone for a moment, secretly hoping for a text from Taehyung. There isn’t one, which is to be expected, so in a rare moment of initiative I text him. I send him the video I’d taken of him earlier today from the ground along with the message Thanks for today, I had a great time.

He replies almost immediately with Day’s not over ;), along with a picture. I download it and need to bite down on my lip from smiling. It’s a picture of me at the dog farm with the puppies: I’m lying on the grass upside down, two labradors clambering onto me, with my hair all dark and wavy on the grass, smiling with genuine happiness and cuddling a third puppy as I look into the camera - as I look at Taehyung.

I’m about to respond with a quick ‘thanks’ but instead, he sends a second picture, then a third, and then about ten more, all of us today with the puppies, strolling the streets together, piggybacking down the canopy. There’s one of us that he sends at the end, a few moments after the others, of us walking together. It’s obviously taken by someone else - most likely Jungkook; I realise it’s from when we’d both volunteered to chuck everyone’s trash after lunch. We’re just walking back, looking at each other, with Tae’s hand disappearing behind me.

I zoom in. I hadn’t even noticed that his hand had been on my back; in fact, it doesn’t even seem as though he’s conscious of it. It looks so natural; even the fact that we are indeed wearing very similar clothes doesn’t escape me this time. We’re walking close together - very close. I remember feeling his chest brush against my arm, feeling his fingers linger on my elbow - but I hadn’t thought about how it would look. We look like a -

“Alright, everyone ready?”

PR forces me to abandon my train of thought and focus. It takes us about an hour and a half; it’s fun, no doubt. All four of us get along pretty well and the games include a Q&A type and a taste test of Japanese cuisine. By the end of it, after it’s confirmed that there’s no drivers’ briefing today, we start to head back into the hotel. I check my phone (not eagerly) to see a message from Taehyung. Ignoring the leap in my chest, I open it.

Once you’re done, come over to 2006.

two hotel rooms

I halt. Now I have no way of knowing who lives in 2006; for all I know, it’s just Taehyung’s room and he’s calling me over for tons of passionate sex after a day of teasing and yearning. If that’s what it is, I’m on board.

But there’s something about the text that makes me think that that’s not all that it is. I try to figure it out; after a couple of minutes, I decide it’s not flirty enough. If there’s one thing I’ve discovered about Kim Taehyung in the last twenty-four hours, it’s that he’s smooth as shit. If he were inviting me over to fuck, I have no doubt that I’d be dripping by the time I got to his door.

I have to ask. But not too pointedly. My fingers hover over the screen as I chew at my lower lip before finally typing out a response. What’s in 2006?

Taehyung replies in under a minute. Food and stuff.

I frown, having learnt nothing from this incredibly vague text. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s being vague on purpose. I replay the events of today in my head, specifically the moments I spent with Jimin, Namjoon and Jungkook. I remember them looking at me like a specimen they never saw coming, but I also remember the huge, boxy smile on Tae’s face each time I joked with any of them.

I exhale. Spending a Friday evening hanging out with members of BTS: it’s a goddamn dream - for some. I know of millions of people around the world who’d literally murder me to take my place. But nothing about it is exciting me; in fact, I think this is the most stressed I've been all weekend.

I briefly consider making an excuse. Tomorrow is Qualifying after all; I can sneak away to hang out with the other drivers while they obsess over FIFA, dull as it sounds. But I do want to see Taehyung again, so badly. I finally make my way up to the twentieth floor, the entire time debating the possible outcomes of this situation in my head, before I reach the room. I can hear muffled noises from inside, both music and voices. I find I can’t physically press the doorbell, so I text Tae instead.

I’m outside. Can you come out here for a second?

Ten seconds later, the door opens and Taehyung steps out, still in the same white t-shirt and jeans, black hair thick and long, looking so incredible that I have to consciously try not to launch myself at him. His face automatically breaks into a smile at the sight of me and my heart skips a beat.

“Hey,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets and stopping a couple of feet in front of me. “Everything okay? Oh, hey, your hair is different,” he comments, taking a straightened lock in between his fingers.

“Yeah, for PR. Um…” I take a deep breath, folding my arms across my chest nervously. “Who else is in there?”

Taehyung glances back at the room and when he turns back to me, it’s clear that he’s immediately caught on to what’s bothering me. “It’s six of my friends.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Really. Exactly six?”

He smiles, knowing I’m not fooled. “It’ll be fine. They’re looking forward to meeting you,” he says, dropping all pretense.

That doesn’t make me feel better at all. My face must show this, for he immediately comes up to me and places his hands on my shoulder. “Dilara, there’s no pressure. You don’t have to. But…” He shrugs. “It’ll be fun.” When I don’t respond, he squeezes my shoulders gently. “Come on, you’ve already met most of them and it’s been fine. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” I say honestly. The only ones I actually haven’t met at all have been Hoseok and Yoongi, but meeting all of them together? But I can’t say no to Tae, not when he looks this hopeful. “Just… just six friends, right?”

“Right. Oh, wait, Jimin and Jungkook are at the gym, so it’s really only four,” he adds helpfully.

I frown incredulously. “Jungkook is the one person I actually know in there.”

Taehyung bites his lip and holds his arms out wordlessly. I take the hint and step in, wrapping my arms around his waist as he hugs me back, head resting against mine and rubbing my shoulder with one hand. “If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to,” he says softly.

I say nothing, revelling instead in his scent and the feel of his lean torso and strong arms around me. This is our first hug, I realise, and I hold him a bit tighter, resting my forehead on his shoulder. “You’ll be there the whole time?” I murmur into his t-shirt.

I can feel him smile as he nods. “The whole time,” he confirms. “Until we leave, that is. Which will be… early?" he guesses.

That makes me laugh. I step back and ruffle his hair affectionately. “Sure. As long as you stay by my side.” I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back. “Let’s do this.”

Tae rolls his eyes at my theatrics but I see him smile again and it’s all worth it. He rings the doorbell and Namjoon opens it, immediately noticing me and greeting me loudly. “Oh, hey. Hey, Dilara’s here,” he calls out, beckoning me inside and shutting the door behind me. “There’s food and… well, tons of gummy bears on the table,” he adds, pointing at the coffee table.

I step in to see Seokjin on the phone in the corner of the room, Yoongi and Hoseok in front of the television, the latter laughing his head off at something before noticing me. All of them wave and call me over just as the doorbell rings again. While Jin waves at me with his free hand, we both turn to see Jimin entering, hair wet and newly washed, smelling like strawberries. The moment he sees me, his eyes widen and he turns to Taehyung, who’s standing with his back against the wall and watching me, with an impressed look and a wide smile before coming over to me.

“Hey, what’s Verst- oh, Max Verstappen?” Namjoon’s voice from behind me makes me do a double take. I turn to see him pointing at my torso and I realise he’s talking about the hoodie I’m wearing, the one that has Max’s name printed on the back.

“Hey, it’s good to see you again,” he says easily, hugging me around the waist as if we’ve known each other for ages. Jungkook follows close behind, waving enthusiastically before his gaze shifts to Namjoon and he says something. Within seconds of meeting me, everyone simply goes back to their own conversations.

“Oh, yeah,” I answer, tugging at the hoodie. “I had to borrow his hoodie for PR. I left mine in your car,” I tell Taehyung. There’s a short but unmissable moment where everyone’s eyes flit to Tae, with Jimin and Jungkook clearly fighting smiles and Yoongi rolling his eyes. But I’m only looking at Taehyung, who’s still standing against the wall with his hands in his pockets. His face is still the same, smooth and perfect with the small smile as he watches me interact with his bandmates, but I swear I can see his chin tilt up and jaw harden for just a moment.

Fortunately, at that moment the doorbell buzzes again and he goes to get it, and everything seems to go back to normal. I take a step back and go to stand next to Namjoon who’s helping himself to a sushi roll, an exasperated smile lingering on his face. “Um,” I begin in a low voice, “what was that?”

His smile gets just a bit wider as he looks up at Taehyung across the room before looking back down at me. “Nothing. Just Taehyung… and his jealous tendencies,” he says, chuckling quietly. With a knowing raise of the eyebrows, he sweeps past me and heads towards the TV.

It turns out Namjoon is bang-on. When Tae returns, he looks like his normal self, coming back up to me with the same small smile and asking me if I’m okay. Jungkook and Jin join us and even as everyone continues talking, I feel Tae move to stand closer to me, sliding a hand down my waist to rest low on my hip. It’s subtle but I can feel a heat between my legs. I decide to experiment.

“Oh, I should text Max and tell him I have his hoodie,” I say nonchalantly, tapping my phone on but keeping all my attention on Taehyung. He doesn’t disappoint. I’ve barely opened my chat with Max as Jin and Jungkook drift away, telling us to come to the TV, when Tae casually moves to stand behind me. Both his hands are low on my hips now as he looks over my shoulder. For a moment I think he’s looking into my phone, but the next second his lips are at my ear, brushing against my hair.

“Hey.” His voice almost makes my knees buckle. It’s the deep, low baritone that I’ve come to know and be obsessed with over the years but hearing it this close while his fingers grip my hips and his pelvis brushes against mine, and especially when I can hear that slight edge in his voice, I know this is what I’ve been waiting for. “Come sit with me?”

I literally cannot think of words. Instantly forgetting all about Max, I follow Kim Taehyung to the couch where everybody else is. It’s a k-drama; I don’t recognise it, but whoever has the remote immediately turns on the English subtitles when I automatically take a seat on the floor next to Jungkook, the one person apart from Namjoon I’m slightly comfortable with at this point. Taehyung, after repeatedly offering me the one empty spot on the sofa, sits right behind me and I lean back against his legs as I try to catch up.

There’s no spotlight on me, thankfully; they don’t go out of their way to include me in conversation but they don’t ignore me either, and it ends up being just the right balance. Jimin comes after a while to sit on my other side, smiling so prettily at me that it feels like my heart will stop.

Sometime later the doorbell rings with a package for Park Jimin; everyone turns to see him holding a pink cardboard box that I recognise as the hotel bakery’s. To my surprise, he comes straight back and places it in front of me. He opens it with a flourish to reveal six cupcakes, each with a different coloured frosting on it. “For you,” he says proudly.

It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking to me. “M-me?”

“Yeah, Jungkook told me you like them.”

Before I can ask, Jungkook shrugs on my other side. “You didn’t have dessert with us and you said you liked cupcakes.”

It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me which is why, even though I can’t eat sugar due to it being a race weekend, I pick one up and take a bite. It’s really good; I almost consider risking it and eating the whole thing but I know Lexie would end me, so I just take a second bite and turn around to offer one to Taehyung. It’s just an excuse, though; the gesture is so unexpected that I just want to share it with him - do your friends really like me? His eyebrow raise and secret smile answers it - I told you they like you - as he takes a bite from the cupcake in my hand. By the time I’ve turned around, all the other boys are helping themselves which is just as well.

“It’s amazing,” I tell Jimin, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks when he flashes me another winning smile. “Thank you.”

Nearly an hour later, after everyone has moved on from watching TV, I notice that I’ve lost track of time completely. I’ve been sitting at one of the smaller coffee tables with Jin who, after having informed me that I’ve been using chopsticks wrong my entire life, is attempting to teach me how to use it right. I look up for a moment to see Taehyung sitting on the window seat with Namjoon and Hoseok, while Jungkook lounges on his lap and scrolls through his phone.

By the time Jin finally succeeds in teaching me a crude version of chopsticks usage, we’ve both devoured two boxes of maki - the only thing I know Lexie will be okay with me overindulging on on a race weekend. Jin leans back in his chair and sighs loudly and my eyes automatically find Taehyung again. He’s in the same place but Jungkook is no longer in his lap. Instead, Tae is leaning back against the window, one arm resting above his head while the other holds his phone, and his legs are spread out again, as though inviting me to come sit on his lap. His gaze meets mine right then and he gives me the tiniest smirk, almost as if he knows what I’m thinking.

I shake my head just as Namjoon joins us. “Aren’t you warm?” he asks, sitting on the arm of Jin’s chair and popping a gummy bear into his mouth.

I frown and look down, realising that I’m still in Max’s hoodie and something clicks. “Oh… I hadn’t noticed.” Hesitating for a moment, I take it off the second I see that Taehyung’s looking. As expected, the smirk gets wider, as though he’s suddenly happier… or satisfied.

It’s so hot - and adorable - that it occurs to him to be jealous. It’s past nine now, which means I’m almost done with twenty-four hours of waiting since meeting Kim Taehyung before I can officially start to pursue him. My thoughts are getting dirtier by the minute and I’m just waiting for a signal from him that it’s okay to leave.

Ten minutes pass and nothing changes. Taehyung’s still sitting with his lap looking inviting as hell and all my attempts at walking across the room, touching Jungkook’s shoulder and even wrapping Max’s discarded hoodie around my shoulders don’t work. Finally, when Tae’s alone at the food table, I fall back to Plan A.

I come up from behind him and run my hands up his arms casually, resting them on his biceps. The moment I touch them, I feel the familiar heat between my legs again. Focus, Komyshan. Tae turns slightly to see me behind him, head lingering next to his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, voice deep and sexy as ever.

“Hey. So, um…” I move closer to him, not wanting anyone to overhear, “Tomorrow is Qualifying and I have to be well-rested and up early, so…”

It takes him exactly half a second to catch my drift and another to drop the gummy bears in his hand back into the box. He turns to face me, leaning back against the table. “So…?”

He wants me to say it. Sneaky little shit. Taehyung’s casual confidence coupled with his laidback position, not to mention that goddamn smirk, makes me want to simultaneously choke him and ask him to -

“So… I should head out,” I tell him, mimicking his nonchalance.

“You’re leaving?”

“Mhm. Long day tomorrow.”

“Sounds like you should be good and tired to get a good night’s sleep.”

“I think I can figure something out.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches slightly again and I know it’s working. “I thought we had some… alone time planned.”

“I don’t want to take you away from your friends,” I tell him. “And besides…” I take a small step closer to him “... I’m not really sure what to expect during… alone time.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Or rather, he doesn't respond with words. Instead, his smirk gets just a bit more pronounced and he just continues looking at me, almost like he’s picturing it. Just when I feel like he’s literally undressing me with his eyes, he gives me a small shrug and an innocent smile. “Whatever you want.”

Aaaand we’re done. I want a lot - but I’m not about to tell him that. “Good. So it’s settled, then?” When he doesn’t say anything, I play my last card. “Or you can stay and I can just go take care of it myself.”

All vestiges of a smile leave Taehyung’s face. He grabs my wrist with one hand and his black hoodie with the other and turns to his friends with a completely normal expression. There’s a general dry outcry that we’re leaving so soon, followed by Jimin yelling something in Korean and everyone laughing. I look up at Tae to see him avoiding their eyes and fighting a smile when Jin shouts “Have a good night!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and waves to them as we head out the door. Just to add to the drama, I pull him out by the hand, walking backwards and winking at the boys as the door closes behind him.

The walk back to my room is a blur. All I know is that we’re hurrying as much as we can, taking great pains to not draw any attention to ourselves until my room finally comes into view. My keycard is ready in my hand and I can feel Taehyung’s hand hovering over my lower back and I know he’s desperately resisting the urge to touch me until we’re inside. The second my door opens, I turn around and walk backwards, not bothering to turn on any lights other than the dim ones already on. The door closes behind him and I immediately hook my fingers around his belt loops and pull him towards me the same moment that his hands go up to my face and he lowers his head and kisses me.

“Finally,” he murmurs against my lips, echoing my exact thoughts, reaching one hand into my hair and pulling me closer to him with the other on my waist. Why haven’t I realised until now just how tall he is? Or how lean his torso is, or how his arms feel like the steadiest things I’ve ever felt around me? I open my mouth to let him in and sigh into the kiss, unable to help myself. I run one hand through his hair, his long, thick, sexy hair, and pull, making him grunt and move his hand down my waist and hips to my arse.

“Clothes off,” I say softly, pulling away for the briefest moment to take my top off over my head. Taehyung does the same with his t-shirt and I realise that seeing Taehyung with an unbuttoned shirt last night came nowhere close to seeing him like this, half-naked in the semi-darkness with a look of hunger in his eyes as I look right at him and unhook my bra, letting it fall on the floor next to him.

He has me pulled flush against him in a moment, kissing me harder than ever. Our hands are everywhere and our kisses are all lips and tongue and teeth; an entire day’s worth of tension and longing has finally come forth and neither of us are willing to waste even a single moment of it. My hands travel down to his jeans and I begin unbuttoning them, brushing against his hard abdomen, before I slip one hand in and feel his erection through the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grabbing me even harder and moving us to the couch where I push him down and climb on to straddle him, lowering my head to kiss him again. Without thinking, I roll my hips forward and he groans into my mouth, pulling away and resting his head back against the sofa for a moment. I look at him - no, I gaze at him, never ever wanting to forget this sight. His hair is falling into his eyes, his jaw is clenched and mouth parted slightly as he catches his breath.

Taehyung kisses me again, moving his lips down my jaw and to my neck, immediately finding the exact spot just below my ear that drives me crazy. He sucks on it as one hand moves to cup my breast, the other firm on my hip. I bite my lip to stop myself moaning too loudly, clutching at his hair and feeling his erection harden even more against me.

“Fuck, Tae,” I whisper. I need him now. He feels so right against me that I find myself not even caring if I’m being too obvious about how much I want him. I palm him through his boxers and he groans again.

“Shit, Dilara,” he mumbles against my collarbone. “God, I need you, I -”

I pull away to stand up and peel off my leggings, standing in front of him in nothing but my underwear. His eyes rake over my entire body and I revel in it. I take a step forward and he reaches for me but instead of straddling him again, I drop to my knees in front of him.

Taehyung bites his lower lip. “Dilara -”

“I want to,” I interrupt him, reaching for his erection. His eyes shut involuntarily but he opens them again.

“You - you really don’t have to -”

“I know,” I tell him and look him in the eye. “I’ll stop if you want me to… but I don’t want to.”

He shakes his head. “Fuck, where have you been all my life?” he sighs.

I grin and reach for his jeans, pulling them down. He raises his pelvis off the couch so I can take them off completely along with his boxers. His erection springs free and my eyes widen at his size. I just know my jaw is going to get a workout from hell and just the thought of it makes me so fucking wet that I wrap my hand around his cock and stroke him once.

Taehyung’s eyes flutter shut immediately and he swears, his back against the couch and his hands clutching the fabric of the seat. I run my tongue along his tip and continue stroking him, watching him the whole time as he slowly comes undone. Somewhere along the way, I link my fingers with his and squeeze his hand. His eyes open to meet mine and he gets the hint, reaching for my hair and grabbing it hard. I moan in sweet pain and he swears again, getting close. I suck him off until my jaw hurts, until he’s louder than I’ve ever heard him and he finally finishes in my mouth, warm fluid coating my tongue as I continue stroking him slower now, letting him ride out his high.

I pull away, swallowing and wiping my mouth as he gets his bearings back. He opens his eyes and looks down at me with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. “Come here,” he says softly, helping me back up onto his lap. I straddle him again and he kisses me, deep and long, holding my face in one hand and pulling me close to him with the other. His hand is big and flat on my back as I kiss him back, wanting him, needing him so badly.

Almost as though he’s read my mind, he suddenly stands up and, without breaking a sweat, carries me straight to the bed and drops me on it. He comes up to kiss me once, biting my lower lip softly, before moving down to my neck. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he murmurs in my ear. He runs one hand down my torso and abdomen to reach my core and presses against the cloth. His sharp intake of breath tells me that he can feel just how wet I am.

He pulls my underwear off and, before I know it, sinks one finger into my folds. I whimper; it feels so fucking good, finally, finally, to have him inside of me like I’ve been thinking about all day. He slips another finger in and my back arches. “Fuck, fuck,” I moan, clutching my pillow as my knees bend automatically.

Taehyung grunts softly and kisses me, his long hair falling into his eyes and onto my forehead. “Can you take another for me, baby?”

“Yes,” I say immediately, biting my lip in anticipation as he slips a third finger into me. His thumb goes to massage my clit and I’m so close, so close… “God, Tae, I’m gonna -”

And I do. It’s like an explosion when I finally come and feel him slow his fingers down slightly as he lets me ride out my high. I open my eyes slowly to see Taehyung watching me, eyes blazing and jaw clenched, biting down on his bottom lip. He lowers his head to give me a quick kiss before his eyes flash. “Think you have one more in you?” he asks as he moves lower down my body and settles between my legs. He kisses my inner thigh before running his tongue along my folds but I know I can’t take this anymore.

“Taehyung,” I whisper, sitting up on my elbows, “I can’t. I just want… I just want you. Now.”

“Are you sure? I just want to make you feel good,” he says, frowning with what I realise is concern. “I don’t - I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Mm, you won’t. Please, Tae,” I add, and apparently that’s what works. Taehyung kisses my inner thigh once again before he gets off the bed and goes to pick up his discarded jeans next to the couch. I can’t help but just stare at him as he does, long hair and lean body completely on display. Just for me, I think. Mine.

He returns with a condom and a smirk. “Always ready,” he quips, making me laugh. He puts it on and climbs on top of me, lining himself up at my entrance. Brushing my bangs off my forehead, he asks, “You’ll tell me if it hurts?”

“I will,” I promise, reaching up to kiss his jaw. Tae nods and enters me slowly; both of us groan in pleasure and I fall back on the bed, opening my legs further and taking him in until he bottoms out. He’s big - that I knew the moment I’d taken off his boxers. It hurts, but not in a bad way. Another sigh escapes my lips as he pulls out to enter me again, and again, until we establish a rhythm.

“Fuck, Dilara, you feel so good, baby,” groans Taehyung, dropping his head onto my shoulder as he goes faster. I grip his bicep and wrap my leg around him to pull him in as he turns to capture my lips in his. I kiss him back; it’s messy and desperate and full of sighs and moans as he goes even faster. His hand comes up to grip my breast, lips still against mine, and I clutch at his shoulder, feeling my nails dig into his skin.

“Oh, my -” I can’t even finish my sentence before he hits the spot and I hit my second orgasm of the night, so much louder this time as I fall back on the bed again. Taehyung’s still going but I can tell he’s close by the way his grunts are getting louder and his jaw is clenching harder. It’s another ten seconds before he slams into me a final time and finishes inside the condom, supporting himself with his hands flat on the bed.

We stay there for a few seconds, both breathing in what just happened. Then, Taehyung raises his head to look at me and presses a soft kiss to my mouth before climbing off me and going out to dispose of the condom. He comes back in a few seconds, beautifully naked, and climbs back onto the bed next to me. We lie there in comfortable silence, our hands intertwined between us, while I think about how we were lying exactly like this just last night on a hotel rooftop when we’d met for the first time.

As the high slowly dissipates, I feel goosebumps erupt on my arm from the AC. Taehyung notices too, and wraps an arm gently around my waist. “Cold?” he asks, kissing my shoulder.

“Just a bit,” I answer, turning onto my side and kissing him. He kisses me back and, contrary to the roughness of what just happened, this is slower, deeper, almost loving. I brush my thumb across his cheekbones as he pulls me closer, eventually pulling me on top of him. Straddling him again, I pull away and sit up, getting my first good look at Kim Taehyung, naked. In my bed.

He’s beautiful. Unlike Jungkook who’s all bulk and muscle, Tae is much leaner, like a tennis player or a Formula 1 driver even. His torso is long and slender, while his collarbones arch to become lean biceps, sinewy forearms and slender fingers currently resting on my thighs. I look up to meet his eyes again to see him smirking up at me, like he knows exactly what I’m doing.

“This is my favourite hair on you,” I tell him, brushing his bangs out of his eyes slightly. He flicks his hair back as though out of habit. “Black… suits you.”

“Yeah?” His hands rise up to rest on my hips. “Just black?”

“The grey is a close second,” I agree after a moment. “The dark blond, too.” The fact of the matter is that Taehyung looks fantastic no matter what his hair looks like, but I can’t tell him that. He’s looking at me far too intensely; it’s making my face heat up. I suddenly feel conscious; he’s too gorgeous himself to be looking at me with this much reverence. “I need to… clean up,” I say finally, climbing off him and the bed, gathering my hair and slipping on my underwear as I search the floor for something to wear.

“My t-shirt’s right there,” he says, apparently knowing what I’m doing. I turn to see him watching me with a content smile, hands behind his head. Wordlessly, I pick it up and put it on, waving to him as I walk into the bathroom and close it behind me.

Once I’m in, I lean against the door and exhale. I can still smell him on me, on my skin, on his white t-shirt that reaches the tops of my thighs. I shut my eyes; it’s not that I can’t believe I just had sex with V of BTS - it’s that I can, even though just twenty-four hours ago, I was at a BTS backstage party waiting for him to just talk to me. I turn my head to look at the mirror and wince as I move closer.

My hair is a mess - no surprise there, considering how much Tae kept running his hands through it, tangling it and pulling at it. My stomach leaps at the memory of it. My lipstick, which had stayed through the entire time I’d been with the band, has now finally disappeared as well - no surprise there either. Moving closer, I brush my hair off my neck to inspect the most critical aspect of our session; I can’t stop a smile from appearing on my face. At the side of my neck, a couple inches below my ear, is a brand new hickey, blooming red and big.

I touch it gingerly and, almost as if it’s a signal, my inner thigh tingles. I know what it is before I’ve checked; right on the inside of my left thigh, barely three inches below my crotch are two smaller hickeys. When I check, there’s another on my right.

He’s marked me, I realise. The thought makes me feel strangely reassured. It doesn’t feel aggressive or possessive; if anything, it gives off a sense of… desperation, almost. As though he doesn’t want to miss the chance to prove that I’m -

“No,” I whisper out loud. I can’t let my thoughts go down this road, not tonight. I close my eyes, forcing myself to think about literally anything else, when I hear a soft humming of Tu les garçons et les filles again.

He’s on the bed where I’d left him, but he’s put on his boxers and is scrolling through his phone. The moment he sees me, he ceases humming and his face breaks out into the same boxy smile that regularly breaks millions of hearts around the world.

“Don’t stop,” I tell him, climbing onto the bed next to him and settling down on my stomach. “Sounded nice.”

Tae raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? You like it?”

“I always like hearing you sing,” I say honestly, my heart skipping a beat when he smiles and drops his gaze. “What? That can’t be the first time someone complimented your voice.”

“It’s not,” he admits, “but people usually prefer Jungkook or Jimin.” He says it in a matter-of-fact tone.

I shrug. “Yours is the sexiest.” He smirks, like I knew he would. When I bite my lip and raise an eyebrow, it widens into a grin.

“Will I get to see you drive tomorrow?” he asks, tugging on the ends of my hair.

“Definitely. I don’t see how they can postpone anything any further even if it pours all day,” I add, resting my head on my hands and looking up at him. “I really hope it doesn’t, though. We only get one practice session and Suzuka is hard enough for a rookie without the track being wet.”

Taehyung frowns but doesn’t say anything, brushing the back of his hand light against my cheek. My eyes flutter shut for a moment at his touch as I try to savour it as much as I can and not think about tomorrow. I’m just about to ask him if he wants to switch on some music - anything to get me to stop stressing before I really start stressing - when my phone pings, first once and then in a succession of pings.

I raise my head and turn around to the backpack I’ve been carrying around all day. I get up, leaving Tae lying on the bed, and retrieve it to see a series of messages from Lexie, all apologising for being MIA all day because of her food poisoning and that she hopes I’m ready for tomorrow. I text her back immediately, telling her to chill, when I see a notification from Max pop up just as a pair of arms wrap around my waist and my back meets a nice, warm, naked chest.

Taehyung lowers his head onto my shoulder and presses a kiss to the side of my neck, his long hair tickling my cheek. “Dilara,” he says quietly, and it sounds like his favourite song in the world. “Dilara,” he says again, this time in a whisper, grazing my ear with his teeth. My breathing stutters a bit but I don’t want him to stop; I close my eyes and sink back into him, tilting my head slightly to give him better access. I feel his breath on my ear and shiver.

“Do you want to order some food?”

My eyes snap open and I snicker, elbowing him in the ribs and pulling away. He laughs his deep, open laugh and I swoon - internally, of course. “I can’t eat anymore,” I tell him, shaking my head and leaning against the table. “I’m driving tomorrow so I have to, you know. Stay light.”

Tae nods understandingly. “Alright, I’ll just get food for me. Is that alright?”

“No, you are forbidden from eating if I’m not.”

“Hilarious. Oh, can you have ice cream?” he suggests. “Come on, who can say no to ice cream?”

I scoff. “All twenty of us getting into a car tomorrow. Food is bad enough, but sugar is absolutely the worst. Why do you think I said no to dessert in the car today?”

He frowns. “But… you ate the cupcakes,” he points out. “Why -”

I give him a look. “Well, firstly, I actually only had, like, two bites. I strategically offered bites to you and Jimin and Jungkook by which time the rest of you had finished the box. And secondly… well, of course I ate them. Jimin was so nice to get them for me,” I add, looking at the floor self-consciously. “Actually, why was he being so nice?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, clearly knowing what I want him to admit. “You ate the cupcake even though you’re not supposed to be eating sugar. Why were you being so nice?”

“Fair enough.”

He simply grins. “That’s me. I think Jimin likes you, though. He’s such a… how do you say it? Flirt?”

I laugh. “He’s cute. And, you know, my favourite member.”

Taehyung gives me an unimpressed look as my phone pings again and I go back to checking my messages. They’re mostly from Lexie and Christian, the latter of whom has sent me a screenshot of some data from last year’s race in Suzuka.

“Something wrong?” Taehyung asks, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, kissing my cheek with ease, as though he does it all the time.

“No,” I sigh, “just stuff to look over for tomorrow.” I try to keep the anxiety out of my voice but I know I haven’t succeeded. Instead of random encouragement, Tae just holds me a bit tighter and rests his head on my shoulder, swaying slightly to the music. I close my eyes and sink back into him, gripping his arms and swaying along.

“I dare you to do something!” We sing together all of a sudden and I turn around to see him singing just as dramatically as I am. He takes my hand and, just like earlier today, spins me and pulls me in by my waist and we sing the entire chorus and the next verse together until his long hair in his eyes and broad shoulders get too much for me and I get up on my tiptoes, wrap my arms around his neck, and try to kiss him.

Except I don’t reach.

It seems to take Taehyung a moment to realise what I was trying to do before he bursts out laughing. He overdoes it for sure, even when I pick up my t-shirt from the floor and throw it at him. “You’re so cute,” he tells me, smiling fondly and coming up to me to wrap his arms around my waist even as I half-heartedly try to push him off. He lowers his head and kisses me and, without warning, places a hand under my thigh and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist out of instinct as he turns around and takes me back to the bed. I’m on my back for just a few seconds before I flip us over and straddle him.

“My turn,” I tell him, flipping my hair over my shoulders and bending over him, tucking my hair behind my ears just as my phone rings. I groan and drop my head onto his shoulder before I climb off, chuckling at his protests. I pick up the call to hear Max Verstappen’s voice.

“This better be really important,” I state, placing a hand on my hip and looking back at Tae apologetically.

“It is,” says Max confidently. He sounds like he’s with someone when he says, “You want to go get a snack from the restaurant? It’s probably empty by now.”

I frown incredulously. This is important? “I’m, uh…” I trail off, turning and looking at Taehyung again, who’s now lounging on the bed looking like a Greek statue. I get the overwhelming urge to run my tongue up his lean, hard torso and force myself to focus. “... busy.”

I can almost hear Max raising an eyebrow skeptically. “Busy?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Like last night kind of busy?”

“Alright, Verstappen, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. Bye,” I say loudly, interrupting his joking response. I shake my head and turn around to see Taehyung now off the bed and walking towards me.

“Hey,” he says, kissing me quickly on the mouth, “do you mind if I take a quick shower? I mean, I could go back to my room and do it and then come back to -”

“Go take a shower, Tae,” I say, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek, and smacking his arse for good measure. He laughs and disappears into the bathroom while I settle on the couch in Tae’s hoodie that’s lying on the table and open up Christian’s messages.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m going through the last one, my laptop open on my side with a picture of the track on full screen. I’m frowning, trying to calculate something in the third sector, when the doorbell rings. I get off the couch and open it to reveal Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo, both in hoodies and joggers.

“Hey, we came to see if you changed your mind,” said Max, not even trying to lie. His gaze falls to your lower half and he smiles. “Looks like you didn’t, though.”

I’ve just remembered that all I’m wearing is an oversized hoodie (and it’s Max and Danny), so I don’t really care. “Afraid not.”

Daniel shrugs. “We can order in, too,” he suggests, his trademark grin appearing on his face, telling me instantly that Max has told him all about last night.

“That’s really not a good idea,” I insist. “In fact, why don’t you -”

“Hey, Dilara, I was thinking of ordering dessert in case you want -” Taehyung’s deep voice comes from behind me and I turn around in horrendous anticipation to see him in nothing but a towel around his waist, looking up from his phone, first at me and then at my guests.

Max and Danny are evidently speechless - and so am I, but for different reasons. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been mortified, but I’m too distracted by the discovery that apparently the only thing that’s more attractive than Kim Taehyung is Kim Taehyung straight out of the shower. My eyes roam shamelessly over the beads of water still on his body, his wet hair falling into his eyes, how low that towel is…

I remember I have company and look back at Max and Danny, shrugging innocently. Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed. His smooth, impassive face reveals the slightest smirk before he turns around and nonchalantly disappears back into the room.

I turn back to the boys, both of whom have a mixture of amazement and embarrassment on their faces. “You know what,” says Daniel finally, clapping Max on the shoulder, “you do seem really busy.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you in the morning,” agrees Max quickly, winking at me before I nod and shut the door. I walk back into the room to see Tae still in his towel, scrolling through his phone as he stands near the edge of the bed. I go up to him purposefully, shedding the hoodie and t-shirt on the way. He looks up at me and his eyes widen in surprise but I don’t stop.

“That was so hot,” I tell him in a low voice, reaching up to kiss him with one hand in his hair and undoing his towel with the other. If Taehyung is taken off guard, he doesn’t really show it. His arms go around my waist and he pushes me down on the bed, kissing me back.

This time, it isn’t quite like before, where we were just desperate to finally be together. No, this time, we go slower. Tae takes his time which, as it turns out, elicits a whole lot of other responses from me. He fully takes charge, too; it’s subtle and I don’t even realise it’s happened until I’m on my knees while he’s sucking on my neck and rubbing furious circles on my clit and I’m practically begging him to fuck me. He pulls me back flush against his chest as he begins a rhythm, each thrust making me whimper until we both finish almost at the same time and I can feel him pant against my back and kiss my shoulder.

We stay in bed after that, under the covers. We talk about indie music; he tells me he writes it and I inform him that I listen to it, followed by a bunch of recommendations. I tell him about the time I was at a music festival back home and was waiting for my friends at the smallest, least crowded stage and how much I don’t regret that decision to this day. He tells me about the first song he wrote and produced and how the songwriting process makes him feel lonelier than he’d imagined. I, after privately considering, end up telling him about my mother, and how Rudy Komyshan treating me like his real child is the only reason I’m able to race today.

Taehyung kisses me at that, a gentle, protective kiss, holding my face and brushing his thumb across my cheek. He doesn’t say anything but then again, he doesn’t need to. We lie next to each other and at some point I fall asleep, smelling lotion and feeling hard muscle underneath my fingers.

When I wake up the next morning, I'm alone.

Thank you for reading. Check out the link for Part 2 in the description, and don't forget to drop a review :)

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