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⠀ c ⠀ u o v e e d ⠀ n ⠀ r
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───AND THEN, just as Jeongguk's heart finally begins to desire to pump blood around his cold body, the blond on the motorcycle chuckles this deep chuckle, standing the tiny hairs all over Jeongguk's body up on end.
"You wouldn't know what to do with that information, love," He states simply, voice deeper than anything Jeongguk could have come to expect from his face. His tone is velvety and warm, like the suppressor for a gun that gets shot into the dead of night.
"Please," Jeongguk asks again, anticipation rising in his throat in a manner that makes him much more than just uncomfortable. "I feel like... Like I've seen you somewhere before."
"This isn't the first time. Won't be the last," The other replies, elusive, but not for fear, no. There lies a deeper meaning behind his self-made secrecy, dragging Jeongguk by the shoulders through an ocean of confusion that swallows his head beneath it's unsteady current. "Tell me, do you want to take a ride?"
Jeongguk looks at the stranger's motorcycle with calm eyes, unsure of why he'd even consider such an offer made to him by someone he didn't know at all. But he finds himself nodding, regardless, allowing the man to help him onto the bike.
He takes his hand, skin to skin, a perfect caricature of a feeling that'd become so foreign to the boy who had lived in oblivious suspension for years, and guides him onto the back of the motorcycle.
Jeongguk's same hand is then guided to rest on the man's hip and his body is pulled close, other hand soon joining the position to hug up to the firm chest of the stranger.
"But understand," The blond starts up the bike. "The things I'll show you— you can never unknow them."
"Enlighten me."
"Of course," comes the stranger's reply.
And then, the world breathes new life as the scent of raw leather fills Jeongguk's lungs, thick and heavy against his cheek as the biker takes a hold of the handle bars and speeds off onto the highway with a vacancy of care for the pure stupidity of their acceleration as he nips and cuts, swerving like a madman.
His knuckles adorn many fancy pieces of metal, some simple, some more intricate, but all breathtaking. One catches Jeongguk's eye in particular; a serpent, wound around his index finger. It's eyes are blacked out, but glint in a dark gemstone that beseeches Jeongguk's attention until the rattle of the bike against the pavement begins to become more prominent at the forefront of his mind.
Streetlights fly by, glares of each lamp merging into one long streak of never ending blindness which leads to Jeongguk having to bury his face in the other's neck, breathing in the scent of sweet spices and lingering pangs of fine oils. He finds refuge in the aroma, eyes taking a relaxed rest, closed and unmoving as the vibrations from the motorcycle speeding down the highway grow more rampant.
