Speed (Discontinued fic)

Word count: 2,236 
Genre: supposedly action
AU: AirGear universe; storm rider!Jongin

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The last day of summer before his junior year was the day Kyungsoo had first seen a storm rider up close.

 

He’s heard of them plenty of times before, on the electronic billboards of his city, in the radio ads that interrupted his favorite songs and even in the endless chatter of the voices around him. They were the the talk of the town, the trendsetters who paraded on the streets, gliding up, down and across roads and buildings in a pair of cleverly designed highly advanced roller blades which took them anywhere in the same speed as a moving car, maybe even faster.

 

Kyungsoo lived in an age when air treks and the people who wore them were much in vogue.

 

Everyday he saw emblems stuck in nearly all the corners and alleys he knew. They were a mixture of different team names and logos with images of animals or objects representing groups like Behemoth, Sabel tigers, Genisis, Sleeping Forest and much much more.  

 

Some of them he saw more often than others, claiming territory over several spaces and areas. Occasionally there were those that overlapped, and according to his Air Trek fanatic friends it was a team’s way of inviting an opponent for a challenge. There were nights when he would hear the screech of wheels against metal rails or the acceleration of tiny engines on walls high above him, and while others excitedly whipped their heads around in search for where the action was happening, Kyungsoo was always the one indifferent soul in a sea of air trek patronizers.

 

He never spared any storm rider a glance even when they sped right past him. He didn’t have to look at them to know that they found thrill in danger and it wasn’t something he was willing to fall trap to. He didn’t exactly revel in the idea of kids his age throwing themselves carelessly into a world where speed races meant joining gangs, grinding hand rails or concrete ledges, jumping stairs, ramping off of embankments and generally turning anything on the regular street into an obstacle, ramp, or grind rail. So he had kept his distance and avoided having anything to do with them and their little devices for majority of his life as a child of the 31st century.

 

Like this, he was Do Kyungsoo, the no nonsense all ace student who had zero space in his mind and heart for any of those life-risking, foolish inventions that his generation seemed to worship.

 

But, as we’ve said, The last day of summer before his junior year was the day Kyungsoo had first seen a storm rider up close, and it was such a defining moment in his life, such a turning point for him that it pretty much cancelled out every opinion and impression he had of them in the snap of a finger.

 

It was raining for the first time in weeks and he more than welcomed the feeling of cold drops soaking into the fabric of his clothing as he headed down the usual path through the center of the city.  Sunset had long passed and the skies now cried heavy tears over the concrete jungle where the combined noise of buzzing crowds and splashing puddles gave Kyungsoo a slight headache.

 

“Modern technology has allowed for the advent of a four kilowatt miniaturized motor, no bigger than a tiny gear, and it’s become especially popular among extreme sports fans who use it to modify their roller blades. These daredevils push themselves to go even faster, to fly even higher with these high tech devices. They enter into a world of their own, racing down the streets writing their own rules. For storm riders, there are no boundaries, the world is their road and the sky's the limit, climbing higher and higher to the heavens themselves.”

 

The shrill voice of an athletic looking female behind a big screen went on advertising a pair of air trecks to the awestruck public. The blindingly bright neon lights it emitted casted shadows against the pavement he walked on and Kyungsoo was half glad this intersection was closed off to vehicles otherwise it would definitely have been an accident prone area due to the multiple commercial distractions that surrounded it.

 

The streets were packed with people walking to and fro that summer evening, businessmen heading home from a long day at work, teenagers like him wasting away their last minutes of freedom, and a few families going out to dinner. Some of them stopped on their tracks to train their gazes on the gigantic screen at the corner while others continued well on their way, probably having heard as much of these air trek shenanigans  as Kyungsoo has.

 

Being part of the latter, he tugged his cap lower and clutched his bag close as he made his way through the sea of onlookers.  Nothing to see here, he thinks to himself. Nothing to see anywhere.

 

Other than smiling politely at the old homeless man who had sought shelter in the skate park, his trek towards the canal up north of the city was uneventful. Thankfully the rain had saved him from having to dodge random waves of riders on his way there, as he usually would have to do on a clear skied day. There was always someone racing towards god knows where to win god knows what. Again, Kyungsoo didn’t care to know.

 

The further he walks, the thinner the crowd gets. As the road begins to take an uphill tilt, the shops lining the sidewalks are replaced by residentials, rows of houses with laughter echoing through their windows and the smell of supper making Kyungsoo’s tummy grumble. He quickens his pace, eager to arrive home to his own meal, which is probably another scrumptious serving of undercooked instant noodles care of his flatmate Park Chanyeol. Obviously living a long and healthy life was the least of that boy’s concerns.

 

It’s when he can actually see the roof of his apartment amidst the blur of the rain that his footsteps slow down to a stop. To his side is a narrow alley, the sound of gushing water heard faintly from its other end. Kyungsoo eyes it warily, his own thoughts keeping him from moving any further, freezing him on the spot.

 

Will he come despite the rain?

 

The question is set on loop inside his head, his curiosity luring him away from his usual path and into the darkness of the alleyway he frequents.  

 

In the recent summer, He’s made the terrible mistake of losing one of chanyeol’s limited edition pokemon cards, a matter which they’ve so intensely fought over that Kyungsoo was nearly convinced it was the end of their 7 year friendship. At that time, the canal on the other end of the alleyway had seemed like a good enough place to hide and perhaps cool off for an evening, what with the sounds of the city far and faded, overpowered by the sound of calm running water.

It was during his three hour stay there, that he had first saw him.

 

He started out as a screech. Nothing but the sound of wheels against metal railings for several agonizing seconds. Kyungsoo had winced at the sound, jerking his head around to find it’s annoying source to no avail.

 

Then, from a screech, he became wind. A strong gust that left Kyungsoo’s hair in a disarray and the air right out of his lungs. It was certainly no summer breeze, the sun was too high up, too scorching hot for that. The cap he was wearing had flown too quickly off his own head and onto the ground, only a few inches away from the canal. But Kyungsoo had little time to chase after it, the shadow that momentarily shaded him from above distracting him and driving him to finally look up.

 

The screech, the wind, the shadow, all of them had finally taken a form when he looked up. At first Kyungsoo had thought it was a bird, wings spread wide and high up above him. But when the figure had drawn away from the harsh glare of the sun he saw that the bird was, in fact, no bird. Rather, it was a man. A boy. Just like him. Except, this boy had rode straight into the air, plunging out from the alleyway and spreading his arms as if to take flight.

 

And take flight he did. At least, until his air treks had landed him on the next rooftop and sent him flying into the air once more.

 

Kyungsoo had watched as the mystery boy flew further and further, soaring from roof to roof with those high tech contraptions strapped onto his feet.

 

Air treks were absurd, air treks were dangerous and risky, and no amount of awe would have convinced him that they were a good idea.

 

So back then, Kyungsoo couldn’t figure out for the life of him why he had found himself constantly coming back to the same spot every afternoon, waiting for the same boy to emerge from the same alley, soaring into the sky the same way he would everyday.  Air treks didn’t awe him, this boy did.

 

And it was the only explanation he had for dragging himself to the same spot on a stormy evening.

 

He didn’t exactly know what he was expecting to see on such a rainy night like this. Yet here he is, standing by the canal whose water level is alarmingly high, staring intently at the dark space between the two buildings, waiting. It was long past afternoon, and the chances of his mystery boy to come soaring through that gap was slim. One could barely see through the rain walking, much less flying.

 

Therefore you could only imagine his surprise the second he hears screeching. Soft at first, but quickly increasing in volume, Getting closer. He braces himself, shielding his eyes from the harsh downpour if only to witness the next few minutes that is to come. Soon the wind picks up and even the rain seems to change directions when, lo and behold, a figure emerges from the alleyway.

 

Kyungsoo’s mouth goes slack at the sight. The boy leaps into the air and spreads his arms, challenging the clouds and thunders and skies. If Kyungsoo hadn’t known any better, he’d think that he could actually see wings, outlined beautifully by the pouring water droplets that hit against the boy’s his back.

 

Now, if things went how they usually would, the boy would simply reach new heights and continue his practices, riding from roof to roof completely unaware of Kyungsoo’s presence somewhere beneath him. However tonight, when Kyungsoo elicits a gasp he may or may not have intended to release, the mystery boy snaps his head towards his direction.

 

At this Kyungsoo’s quite sure his heart skips a beat. He wants to look away, he wants to rip their gaze apart however, their eyes have met and locked, and he’s finding it so difficult to pay attention to anything else. His heart only does more somersaults when he realizes that the boy is descending, smoothly landing on his treks and gliding to where he stood, stunned.

 

The mystery boy looks more like a man up close like this, with his damp, silver hair covering up his gorgeous hazel eyes and chiseled jawline. He’s panting, the rush of adrenaline up in the air proving to be quite the energy drainer. Kyungsoo merely stares back, nearly drawing blood with how hard he’s currently biting his lip because the man in front of him is absolutely beautiful.

 

“You’re here again.” the nameless man tries to say, or rather tries to shout through the noise of the storm. The most intelligent answer Kyungsoo could provide at the moment is a brief nod because he’s too entranced by the smooth and deep voice that speaks to him. He can only manage to be mildly alarmed that the other had known of his presence all along.

 

And yet, his unresponsiveness is rewarded with a smile.  

 

“You’re always here.” the man says with less surprise and more of something pleasant in his tone.  Kyungsoo looks down at his feet, slightly (or a lot) embarrassed at having been caught by the very subject of his obsession. So these are what they look like up close he thinks to himself as a distraction, staring intently at the treks strapped onto him. They’re black, with golden wheel frames and mounts. The taller had rolled his left pant high enough to provide Kyungsoo with a view of his ankle and it allows him to conclude that the gold compliments his skill well. His thoughts are interrupted by the other’s movement, and he looks up in time to see him brush his damp hair away from his face.

 

“Pity, if it weren’t for the storm i’d have given you a show.” the man chuckles, and it sounds melodious. By now he’s already gliding away slowly, ready to accelerate and speed off at any moment. For some reason, Kyungsoo feels this strong urge to ask for his name, an urge driven by the fear that he may never get the chance to catch him on the ground again. He’s always too far up in the air to reach.  

 

“Jongin.” The man, provides.  Jongin provides. “My name is Jongin.”

 

A/N: unfortunately the fic only runs till here. Originally i planned on writing it as a chaptered one but nnnnggh my ideas were to complex. Still, exo in the universe of air gear is close to my heart ;; someone write it for me #bricked