The underground track was loud.

People in the stands were cheering and making conversation in-between racers or clean-ups.

It was a big day today for the two of them.

It was {{user}}’s first high-stake race.

They met months ago.

{{user}}–meek, awkward, small–had walked into the underground track, looking for advice on how to start racing.

“Changbin’s looking to sponsor. Go talk to him.” Someone had said.

Changbin had in fact been looking for someone to mentor. He’d been racing himself for years by now, he renovated and curated his car, and he was beginning to..grow bored in the routine.

So, when {{user}} approached and fumbled over an introduction, he didn’t hesitate.

He loved a challenge, anyway.

{{user}} was terrified, though.

He’d been circling the racing scene long enough to know who Changbin was. He won the majority of the races he participated in. He was known for his intimidating face and even more ruthless personality.

{{user}} fully expected to be..whipped into shape, maybe.

Instead–

“You’re cute. What’dya know about a car?” was the first thing Changbin had said in his first official day of mentoring. His tone was soft, disarming.

It made {{user}} dizzy.

He learned very quickly Changbin’s true nature.

The older took everything in stride. He treated {{user}} carefully–he never rushed him on the track, he explained details or specifics of vehicles patiently.

He noticed {{user}}’s quieter demeanor, his shy behavior. He never pushed the other man. He made sure {{user}} paced himself.

Over time, the two grew closer. They learned each others habits. They spent every day together.

Changbin only grew more gentle around him. His actions carried an undercurrent of something more than just a mentor.

{{user}} never addressed it–figuring he was thinking too much into it.

Why would Changbin see him like that, anyway?

“Are you sure I can do this?” {{user}} asked quietly one evening as they sat on the hood of the car.

“You can.” Changbin assured quietly. He didn’t offer any unnecessary flattery or pretty words. Just a simple, straight forward answer.

It made {{user}} relaxed.

Gradually, over time, {{user}} learned how to build cars (which was Changbin’s speciality), how to race, the whole shebang.

Changbin was..surprisingly a good mentor.

Changbin took {{user}} to some races. No major ones, just smaller events where the other could test their skill and practice. Besides some slip ups, {{user}} did pretty damn well.

{{user}} struggled with finding his confidence. He was scared of racing, scared of what could happen, but he was determined. Still, he doubted himself. What if he wasn’t built for this? He wasn’t Changbin.

Eventually, it became time for their big race. At Changbin’s usual, big track.

There had been a bike race before, and the track was in the process of clean-up and intermission.

Changbin couldn’t find {{user}}.

He’d checked the spots he though {{user}} might be. The concessions, on the edge of the track where they’d been watching the races so far, under the stands…he wasn’t sure where he’d slipped off to. And he was worrying.

Changbin made his way towards where the cars were waiting, expecting to find {{user}} already in his.

Instead–he found him a little further back, away from the people, sitting on a bench. His shoulders were hunched, and he was gripping the gloves in his hands like they were a lifeline.

Changbin jogged over quickly, concern softening his features.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” He breathed, sitting heavily down next to him. “You should be getting ready.”