"Alright, now just shift gears and inch it forward," Mr. Lee told his son gently. Taemin sighed and did as he was told, shifting to "Drive" and slowly advancing on the street, both hands limp on the steering wheel. The slim silver car crawled down the street.

"Dad, when am I going to get to race like you?" Taemin complained as he gently turned to wheel. He longed to slam the gas to the floor and speed down the road, but he knew that his dad would never allow it. Mr. Lee sighed.

"Listen, racing isn't all that it's cracked-up to be. Just because you can do it doesn't mean you would love it," the man murmured. Taemin scoffed and kept driving, barely inching above 5 mph.

"Dad, if you'd just let me try, I could be an awesome racer. I feel it in my gut," Taemin insisted. Mr. Lee let out a loud groan that told his son that The conversation was over.

"Let's not talk about this," he murmured. Taemin groaned and nodded, continuing his drive until his dad said that it was time to go home. Taemin stayed silent the whole way. He didn't even talk during dinner. He just ate his pork and rice, his face stony.

"What did you say to him?" Mrs. Lee hissed at her husband. Mr. Lee shrugged and looked down into his bowl, eating voraciously before getting up.

"I have to do a few practice laps for the race next week. I'll be home by nine," he promised. He kissed his wife on the head and looked at Taemin with a sigh, patting the boy's hair down. "Keep out of trouble, you hear me?"

"Yeah, whatever," Taemin muttered, pushing food around his plate with a fork. He waited for his dad to leave before getting up and leaving the table. His mother didn't try to stop him. She knew that her son was headstrong and stupid.

Later that night, she laid next to her husband with his smell of diesel soaking into the sheets. She wrinkled up his nose and silently wished that he would take a shower. Still, she got cozy. It was a cold night.

Suddenly, a roar exploded from outside. She jumped into the air and raced to the window, her husband yanking open the curtains to see that their car was driving away. He swore and ran to his son's room, where the blanket was hanging out of the window.

"! Taemin, you idiot!" he shouted. He ran downstairs, grabbing his coat. Still, without a car, what was he going to do? He saw Taemin's fist stick out of the window, one finger pointing up to he sky, before the car peeled off. It left only the smell of burning rubber.

Taemin laughed and whooped as he jumped the car to 60, narrowly turning corners and straightening the car expertly. He was a natural. He could feel the racer in him pumping through his veins. He knew that he could do this. his dad. Taemin was born to speed.

The sound of sirens alerted Taemin to bigger problems. He checked the rearview mirrors and let out a string of curses that would make his mother faint. He started to push the car to 80. the police. He couldn't just give up now.

"Taemin, pull the damn car over!" his father's voice boomed from the bullhorn. Taemin rolled his eyes before digging his heel into the horn, blasting a loud beep before he slammed down the gas.

" off!" he shouted as he swerved down a road. He heard two cop cars get shaken off from just the sheer sharpness of the turn. Taemin smirked and got the car under control long enough to head down his route again.

"Goddammit! Taemin, you are so grounded!" Mr. Lee shouted. Taemin saw the police car in front stop. He celebrated until he saw his father get in front the take the wheel. Taemin swore and slammed the brakes, turning the car around and zipping past the cop car, smirking at his dad's stunned face.

"Let's see who winds this race, huh?" he shouted as he shot into the two cop cars who were just starting to regain control. He watched them scatter, his speedometer reading 95 by now. He raced down the dark street, the night like an inky fog that he was slicing through. He could see his dad gaining on him.

"Taemin, hit the ing brakes!" the man yelled through his bullhorn as he gained onto his son. Taemin swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding having his gather scrape off his taillights. He smirked as his dad tried to follow, but the clunky cop car just could compare. Taemin left it behind as he flew past his dad, smirking at the still-swerving car.

"See you later!" the teenager shouted as he headed for the highway. The highway meant freedom. The highway meant soaring down the roads and losing the cops. He sped up.

Unfortunately, the car couldn't handle the distance.

Taemin felt himself jolt as the car suddenly just... stopped. He cursed and swore as he hit the steering wheel, trying to start up the vehicle. The engine would only make that frustratingly weak sound before dying. He heard the cops approaching and groaned, getting out if the car. He leaned against, grabbing a box of cigarettes and a lighter from the glovebox. He lit one up and smoked it calmly as the police approached.

"So, fun night," he quipped like the smartest he was. One of the police, red-faced at his defeat at the hands of a brat, grabbed Taemin's wrist roughly and cuffed the boy. Taemin blew the smoke into the cop's eyes. The man's face got even redder.

"Listen, you little punk—"

"Taemin! What the were you thinking?" Mr. Lee demanded as he marched over. Taemin smirked at his father as he crushed the cigarettes under his feet, letting the cop lead him away.

"I told you I could be a damn amazing racer. I beat you, didn't I?" he taunted. Mr. Lee looked like he was going to kill the boy as Taemin was tugged along behind the officer. Taemin ignored his father's swearing. He leaned back in the cop car, gazing at the ceiling. He knew that he was going to be great.

He just knew that one day...

"... And it's neck in neck! Lee Taemin in front, gaining ground inch by inch! Will it be enough, ladies and gentlemen? Will the rookie champion be able to make it into the big leagues! Will he—" The announcer cut himself off as he began watching intently, jaw agape.

Taemin smirked. He could see the finish line one more turn away. He liked to toy around with his prey before he crushed it. He let up on the gas pedal, letting the rookie next to him gain a little distance. He could hear the spotter yelling into his ear.

"What are you doing? Taemin, hit the damn gas! Come on!" the idiot shouted. Taemin ripped the earpiece out and waited until he and the opposing car were literally bumper to bumper.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reports that Taemin's put crew has lost contact with their driver! Lee Taemin, what happened?" the announcer demanded. Taemin rolled his eyes.

"I'm giving you a goddamn show," he snarled. He smirked as he saw the finish line two miles away. He gave it a second, and then there he was. Right there. Heart pumping, the world disappearing, his breath ragged. He gripped the steering wheel. He was there.

He slammed the gas down.

"HE'S DONE IT! He's done it, ladies and gentlemen! Lee Taemin has made it into the official Grand Prix race! He is the last contestant to be entered into this spectacular 3 day event! Ladies and gentlemen, Lee Taemin!" the announcer roared into the microphone. Taemin whooped and cheered, swerving his car onto the grass and doing a victory spin. He got out and punched the air as he leapt from his car, ripping off his helmet.

"I did it, baby!" he shouted, dropping to his knees and holding his fists to the sky. His headgear fell limply onto the grass as he felt the roar of the audience wash over him. It was like being swept away by a tidal wave. He felt so good, so free. He felt perfect.

"Lee Taemin! Choi Hyun-sik here! Tell me, what are your thoughts on this moment in your career?" a man in a suit and a layer of sweat asked, shoving a microphone into Taemin's face. Taemin got up to answer.

"I am very proud of myself, my team, and the support I have. It's been an awesome journey, it really has. And I know that it's only getting better," Taemin recited with a grin on his face. He had to win over his fans, after all. Hyun-sik brought the microphone back.

"I understand that your father is also in the Grand Prix as one of the veteran racers to attend this event. Care to tell us your views?" the reporter asked. Taemin felt like scowling and spitting onto the ground. His dad hadn't talked to him since he became a professional racer and started winning .

"I'm really proud to be racing alongside my dad, both as his son and as a racer. I mean, three Grand Prix titles and a few trophies from America? How many rookies get to race against that kind of legacy?" Taemin asked, pretending and lying through his grin-stretched lips. He'd beaten his dad when he was a teenager, and he'd beat his dad again. He was sure of it.

"And what about your opponents? In particular, Choi Minho, who is going to be in the Grand Prix as well? I heard that you were rivals when you were both rookies. How does it feel to be meeting him on the track again?" Hyun-sik asked in a blur of words. Taemin nearly did scowl.

Minho. Choi Goddamn-ing--Manwhore-Son-of-a- Minho. Taemin and he had been going neck and neck, toe in toe in each race they'd been in, and Minho managed to win every time. Every ing time. And Minho never missed a change to gloat, either. It put a dent in Taemin's pride that the boy hated to be there.

"I look forward to seeing my old rookie-mate on the track. I hope to have a good, competitive race with all of my opponents," Taemin said with as much sincerity as he could pull out of his . He hated Minho. Hated him.

"That's good to hear," a familiarly deep voice said from behind Taemin. The younger man jumped a little and turned, seeing Minho dressed in a casual polo and khakis. They both smirked at each other.

"Minho, what a surprise," Taemin said pleasantly, even as he imagined punching Minho's face from his skull. Minho nodded, his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

"I had to see who walked away from this race intact. I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was you," Minho replied. The latent insult might as well have been flashing in neon lights.

"Well, I'll meet you on the racetrack, then," Taemin said. Minho nodded, but he didn't move. Instead, he extended a hand with a business card pinched between his index and middle finger.

"All the Grand Prix racers are going to be at this mixer tomorrow night. You should come, if you're not too busy," he invited. Taemin took the card, keeping a smile on his face as Hyun-sik left to find a losing racer, presumedly to rub salt into the wound. As soon as the reporter was gone, Taemin's smile disappeared.

"I'm going to turn you and your little car into roadkill," Taemin snarled. Minho smirked and stepped closer, his eyes boring into Taemin. The boy tried to keep from killing this guy. Minho's plush lips parted slowly, and Taemin could see the pearly white teeth peek out. They belonged down his goddamn throat.

"Try it."

"I will."

~

A/N—Let's get started! Rev up your engines, folks!

Btw, dashing duo. They good. I like dem.

http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/534051/dashing-duo-graphic-shoppe-c-open-we-d-love-some-requests-to-work-on-elvin-uses-super-aegyo-to-beg-will-it-work-posters-postershop-graphicshop

Anyway, let's go!

More to come, comments are love!