It was difficult, though, because these daily races had easily become the best part of Sehun's weekday morning routine; he liked the ring roads, he liked the thrill of driving fast, and he liked that there was apparently someone else out there who understood. He honked once in "Hello" and the driver of the Mustang honked twice in reply—Sehun liked to think that one meant "You ready for this?" and that the other was some variation of "What the hell, let's just go!" Sehun's foot hit his gas pedal faster than he smacked off his alarm in the mornings, yet his Audi made it to their finish line a half second behind the Mustang. Just like it always did.

 

To be honest, Sehun had thought he would care more about the race itself, about winning and not winning, and the fact that he always seemed to be in the second category and never the first. Except he'd realized around Week 3 of whatever this was, that the speed was what mattered; that, in itself, was all the exhilaration he needed. He paused habitually before his turn, taking the time to even his breathing before driving the rest of the way to work. Usually while he did this, the Mustang's driver backed his car up so that he didn't join Sehun in exiting this ring road for another one, before honking once in "Goodbye," and driving off. Today, though, Sehun checked his mirrors before putting his Audi in motion again—like a good driver should—but only made it a few meters before the Mustang appeared out of no where and stopped smoothly in front of him.

 

Sehun wondered briefly if he should be afraid. That triad movie came to mind again, but he decided there'd been no point in buttering him up if the driver of the other car were just going to kill him now; no, that wasn't mob style, and Sehun breathed a little easier.

 

An even worse thought occurred to him soon after. What if the driver of the green Mustang wasn't actually a man, liked Sehun had assumed since the tinted windows, though probably illegal, gave nothing away. Sehun had nothing against women, but he'd been thinking for a while that the driver, his car, and his racing style were incredibly y, and women were so not Sehun's type.

 

To his great relief, though, when the driver's door opened and Sehun's racing opponent emerged, it was a man who stood beside the Mustang—and damned if he wasn't y. Sehun felt his jaw drop reflexively at the sight, but had to catch himself quickly because his windows, he'd just remembered, were not tinted at all.

 

The man closed the driver's door and just stood there, leaning against it as his eyes found Sehun's and their gazes locked. He lifted one hand from where it rested carelessly at his hip and pointed it beckoningly in Sehun's direction with a strangely attractive sort of lazy nonchalance. Sehun gaped as the man still held his gaze, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat while he considered his options.

 

The seatbelt was pressing down hard on something that would be painfully obvious if Sehun got out of the car, so he removed that option from his list—even though it had been the gesture of "Come here" that had made him so in the first place. Sehun shook his head once he'd decided for sure that he wasn't moving, and the guy raised an eyebrow at the challenge to his wordless command. Biting his lip in response, Sehun assumed the guy was just going to get in his Mustang and leave after being so blatantly refused, so Sehun took a last opportunity to check the other driver out and engrave the man's image into his brain.

 

He practically oozed appeal, arching his back against his car in a way that was equal parts confident and sinful, and made Sehun imagine all sorts of ways for the man to be arching that way while over him. His tan was unusual for an Asian, but Sehun's time in Shanghai had changed some of his ingrained Korean concepts of beauty, and the man was hot despite, and maybe even because of, his bronzed skin. Sehun's gaze traveled over the man's Louis Vuitton dress shirt as he admired the way it fit his shoulders almost seamlessly, his eyes particularly lingering at the sharp cut of the man's collarbone which peeked out from behind the open buttons at the top. Finally, Sehun allowed himself to look lower, to try not to drool too obviously as the man's leather pants which looked as tight as they were red; on anyone else, Sehun thought that the entire look set against the bright green of the car would have been horrific, but on the man in front of him, the ensemble was literally breathtaking. When Sehun's eyes were satisfied, for the time being at least, they returned to the man's face, traveling past his pouty lips and perfectly angular nose to find the man's own eyes on Sehun.

 

He looked as if he knew exactly what Sehun had been doing, but instead of being bothered or annoyed, the man's mouth quirked crookedly to the side as if the whole situation amused him. Lifting his hand a second time, he beckoned once more, but Sehun, who's little problem was now much worse than it had been—if that were even possible—shook his head vehemently; there was no way he was getting out of the Audi in his current state. If the guy wanted Sehun, he would have to be the one who moved. Sehun almost regretted that thought as soon as it slipped out, though, because it almost seemed like the guy could read his mind. The Mustang's driver rolled his body to lift himself from off the side of the car without the use of his hands, and slowly he began walking toward the Audi while Sehun glanced down—because he almost couldn't help himself—and realized that red leather hid very little of the fact that the guy had quite a prominent of his own.

 

Gathering his wits, his Mandarin abilities, and his briefcase—for coverage—Sehun took a deep breath before he rolled down the window and relaxed his arm in the opening, all in a show of the confidence he wanted, but didn't currently have. He considered greeting the other man first, but soon decided against that course of action; if he was making the guy come to him, he might as well take this all the way.

 

Sehun looked down briefly as he readjusted the bag in his lap, and to his surprise, the man was there, standing at Sehun's window and wearing an infuriatingly knowing smirk. He leaned down, folding his arm right above the window so that his face and Sehun's were at exactly the same level.

 

"You alright there?" His voice was lyrical, and clearly amused, as he raised an eyebrow once more.

 

"Shut up," Sehun responded, sounding rude but not really meaning to, and hoping the man would realize that. Actually, he was so caught up in overanalyzing the man's comment and his own reply, that it took Sehun a few seconds to realize that the man spoke Mandarin like a Korean—like Sehun.

 

"You need help with that then?" The man still spoke in heavily accented Chinese as he chuckled deeply and his chin towards Sehun's briefcase-covered crotch.

 

"I'm fine," Sehun's embarrassment manifested as he took a chance by switching to Korean and his voice broke on the second to last syllable of his denial.

 

The man looked startled for a moment, but then he grinned widely a half second later. "I can tell," he joked sarcastically, now also in Korean. "I'm Kai."

 

The man, Kai, continued to lean against the Audi as he stuck his other arm through the window for Sehun to shake. "Sehun."

 

"You're quite the driver, Sehun." Kai was practically purring as he said this, taking particular care to emphasize Sehun's name, too. "But how would you like to go for a real ride?"

 

Sehun felt the heat as it hit, flowing from his cheeks to pool in the pit of his stomach on the way to his groin. Still, he played dumb. "The Mustang?"

 

Kai's eyes became hooded and Sehun could practically feel the hunger as it stirred in the other man's gaze. "Among other things." The huskiness of his voice made Sehun shiver noticeably and Kai's smirk as naughty when he added with a whisper into Sehun's ear, "That way we both win."