fantasy

traffic

Tags: Smut! Namjoon x Reader, Namjoon can drive, road head, public sex, YES I KNOW this book has an overabundance of public sex/exhibitionism but I CANNOT STOP! Also, I do not condone distracted driving! PLEASE BE SAFE OUT THERE!!! 😠💜

Word Count: 2696

—

Civilization is so weird.

You stared ahead with a pout, trying to ignore the empty grumbling of your stomach as the metal death machine you sat in inched its way forward.  The highway that stretched out in front of you was congested with little hybrid cars, gigantic semitrucks, minivans, and the like.  A wavering mirage hung over the horizon, the late summer heat radiating off all the metal and pavement.

Namjoon's rickety car was a small drop in the ocean of vehicles, and you couldn't help but think how weird it was.  Thousands of people surrounded you; you all populated the same city, you all took the same highways home, to work, to school, to dinner.  But you would never know even an itty-bitty fraction of them.

"Let's move to Montana."

"Montana?"  Namjoon looked over at you from the driver's seat before chuckling under his breath.  "Why?"

"Because traffic is stupid, and cities are weird.  Like, why are we sitting in a long line of cars?  Just waiting in line to get to a place.  Don't you think that's weird?  Like a complete freakin' waste of time?" you whined, putting a foot up on the dash.  The windows of the car were rolled all the way down – Namjoon's AC made a terrifying screaming noise, it just wasn't worth it – so you stuck an arm out and let it flop over.  "Instead of spending this gigantic chunk of our lives sitting on top of a pile of concrete and steel, we could be living in a log cabin with wild horses running around our backyard, which would conveniently double as a gigantic field of wildflowers overlooking a snow-peaked mountain range."

"But we can't get Korean BBQ in the wilderness of Montana," Namjoon mumbled. 

At the mention of food, you were reminded of the gnawing hunger that consumed you.  You and Namjoon were on your way to your favorite BBQ place downtown, and the only thing getting in the way of you and some grilled pork belly was a ridiculously delayed highway flow.

So maybe you were a little hangry.

"Touché," you pouted.

Namjoon chuckled again, but it was a little tense.  He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, stretching them out before wiping his palm on his pants.  Driving always made him nervous, and hella traffic didn't help.  Neither did the fact his car's check engine light came on about half a mile ago.  Namjoon's car – which he had lovingly named The Steed™ – had been alive for nearly two decades, and it was still chugging along.  Yeah, the brakes were squeaky and sometimes it took a couple tries to get it started. 

But its stereo system still worked perfectly, and according to Namjoon that was really all that mattered. The Steed came into existence before aux cords were a thing, though.  So instead of listening to one of Namjoon's carefully compiled Spotify playlists, you two listened to one of his burned CDs.

As you stared out the window at cityscape, you absentmindedly noted that Bryson Tiller had come on.

Lately you say he been killin' the vibe
Gotta be sick of this guy
Pull up, Skrrt
Get in the ride
Left hand is steering the other is gripping your thigh

You burst out laughing when at the lyrics' prompt, Namjoon reached over with his right hand to grab a handful of your thigh.  When he did, he looked over at you with his goofiest, proudest smile. The way his dimples framed the grin made your stomach feel full of fluttering butterflies instead of being empty and growling.