"Can we go to McDonalds?"

"What the fuck---no. You're bleeding, dumbass."

"Precisely," Lee declares, pouting until his cracked lips hurt. "A cheeseburger will stop the bleeding. I'll drive."

"You are not driving," Jack insists. In the sharp, finely-cut gleam of the afternoon sun, his hair glitters like honey. He's handsome, irritatingly so, all-American good looks and a strong, boyish face that never fails to drive Lee crazy, the Western streak in his blood shining through his strapping build and carefully-carved jaw. "You're going to get that damn Camaro of yours into an accident."

"Even better. I'm already half-dead, anyway. Must as well let the road speed up the process." Lee grins, two scarlet-stained fingers reaching to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Jack slaps his hand away before he can touch his hair, shoving a small fistful of tissues into his damp palm.

"You're not driving, you twit. Wipe your hands so you don't look like you just left a crime scene. I'll take you home."

"Want to use my car? It needs to get home too, anyway."

"Fuck no. I can't drive that shit. It's the bike or you're staying here until tomorrow."

"Would you stay with me?" Lee asks, eyes widening hopefully.

Jack snorts. "You wish. Get off the bike, Lee. We've got to figure out how to fit both of us on it."

Lee finishes wiping the blood off---as much as he can manage, at least---and stands up. "I could grab on to the back and you could drive fast enough for me to fly behind you."

"Do you want to die?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Probably not, knowing you." Jack swings one leg over his bike and plops himself down on the seat. "Get behind me, dumbass. If you're coherent enough to be stupid, you should be strong enough to get onto a bike by yourself. Make sure you've gotten all the blood off your hands. I don't want my uniform to get stained."

"What?"

"What do you mean by what? Get on the bike and hold my fucking waist so you won't fall off, stupid."

"Oh." And then, "Oh. Fuck. I'm a dumbass."

"Yes, you are."

"Are you serious? This is rapidly turning out to be the best day of my life," Lee proclaims. "I get to beat people up, hold your waist and go to McDonalds? Someone pinch me. Actually, don't. I don't want to wake up from this dream. Ever."

As expected, Jack reaches back and pinches his arm, hard. Lee bites back a curse and settles for shooting a dirty look Jack's way, which Jack promptly ignores. "We're not going to McDonalds. Get on the bike, loser."

"It's not nice to make fun of invalids."

"If you can run your stupid mouth like this, you're not an invalid. Get on the bike or I'm leaving you here."

"Okay, okay. No need to be so pushy, Pref." Lee gingerly lowers himself onto the bike, wincing as the hard seat presses into his backside---too many luxury cars, no doubt. He lifts his palms, then halts.

Truth be told, Lee doesn't know why he's hesitating. After all, he's dreamed of putting his hands on Jack's beautiful body for years, but---something stops him in his tracks. Maybe it's because he can't seem to separate dreams from reality anymore. Maybe it's the idea of being in the moment and too much misplaced cowardice. Maybe it's the fact that something's---maybe everything's---changed. Everything feels the same, but something different lingers in the air, thick and hot and palpable. The scales tilt, the balance of power between them spinning into the eye of the storm, so fast it gives Lee whiplash.

Lee realises what it is.

Despite everything, Jack's not scared.

The revelation hits him like a truck---the realisation that Jack's watched him tear people to the ground like the monster he is, like the beast everyone from his past thinks he is, like the creature who'd wrecked and ruined and destroyed...and he's not afraid of him. He's watched him take on three guys at once and beat them to bloody pulps---and he's not scared like even Lee himself is. The thought comforts Lee, spiralling butterflies into his chest and filling his lungs with air.

"What's taking you so long? You're going to fall off the moment I start pedalling, dumbass. We can both barely fit on this thing as it is," Jack complains. And before Lee can protest, Jack reaches behind him, grabs Lee's wrists, and places Lee's hands on his waist without even glancing back.

Lee instantly short-circuits.

Jack's body is hard beneath Lee's lingering fingers, all broad limbs and sculpted bone. His waist is solid, breathlessly masculine, Lee's hands barely covering his lean sides. Through the stiff, starchy confines of his now somewhat-wrinkled uniform, he's a wonder to touch, to hold, Vitruvian under Lee's grip, all concrete and granite and creamy, statuesque quartz. Lee blithely wonders how someone could feel so strong and yet be so weak.

"I can hear you panting from over there, you horny bastard," Jack remarks, finally turning back to grace Lee with a teasing little smirk, an expression so rare that Lee wants to snatch it off his face and bottle it up forever. "Are you really that touch-starved?"

"Yes," Lee answers honestly.

Jack lifts one hand off the handlebars and flicks Lee's forehead gently, making him blink quickly and go cross-eyed for a full second. "Now you don't have to be touch-starved anymore. I'm touching you, okay?" He wrinkles his nose. "That sounded a lot better in my head."

"It sounded amazing in real life, too," Lee breathes, starry-eyed. "You're amazing. I mean---fuck." He mentally slaps himself in the face and decides he'll blame it on him being a horny teenage guy, because it seems easier to fault the hormones instead of his big, fat, stupid crush.

The corner of Jack's mouth quirks up in a thin smile. "And you're still bleeding." He turns back to the front, and Lee sighs at the loss of Jack's intense gaze. (He likes it a little too much when Jack looks at him---unhealthy, he knows, but it's a comfort all the same, knowing that someone sees him without him having to brandish a ten-foot tall neon sign screaming Hey, I'm fucking here. Or maybe he's just projecting.) "Hold tight, dumbass. We're going home."

"So...can we get McDonalds?"

"Fuck no."

٩( ᐛ )و

They end up in McDonalds.

Jack tries to convince Lee into letting him bike through the drive-thru---people are less likely to think you just killed someone, he insists, gesturing to Lee's busted lip, split knuckles, and bruised temples, to which Lee laughs and says it makes him look more badass.

"Peple are going to think I've been beating you," Jack protests.

"Are you implying we're in a relationship?" Lee suggests hopefully.

In response, Jack pulls into the nearest parking lot. Lee twists his mouth into a pout even though he knows Jack can't see it.

(He'll get Jack to like him. Someday.)

The server does give Lee a few strange looks when he rolls up to the counter spouting an order Garfield would be proud of, but doesn't comment on the very obvious bruise on his forehead or the trickle of dried blood bisecting his swollen upper lip. Lee pays, of course. Jack tries to stop him, but Lee manages to slam fifty bucks on the counter before Jack can move.

("I'm your sugar daddy now," Lee teases.

"You're old enough to be one anyway, grandma," Jack shoots back.)

"Holy shit, what did you even order?" Jack grumbles, lugging the sky-high tray to the nearest table. (Lee had offered to carry it. Jack had insisted he wasn't going to let him carry anything with bashed-up hands like that.) "The amount of cheeseburgers here could feed a small country."

"I like cheeseburgers. So sue me. And I'm hungry. Fighting takes a lot out of people. I got you a Big Mac set, by the way. I know you like those."

"Have you got a feeding kink or something? I'm going to be huge if you keep buying me McDonalds," Jack complains, but Lee doesn't miss the way his cheeks flush hotly as he sits down opposite him. "Thank you, though. You didn't---"

"Shh." Lee leans over the table and presses a finger to Jack's perfect lips, winking maniacally. "Let me channel my Asian grandma energy in peace so I can feed you like hell."

Jack wrinkles his nose. "If you call me ah boy, I'm going to actually kill you."

"Kinky."

"I'm going to fucking smack you."

"On my ass?"

"No. On your dick, you stupid dick." Jack unwraps his Big Mac, side-eyeing the small mountain of cheeseburgers in front of Lee. "Jeez, do they not feed you enough at home or something?"

Lee jolts, startled. His fingers reach for his Coke, twisting the straw nervously. "Ah---if course. I mean, yes. Kind of. Yeah." The truth's too complicated. He can't cook. He's tired of leftovers and takeout and the night maid's shitty cooking. He hates eating alone. It's easier to deny, deny, deny, pretend he doesn't go to bed hungry nearly every night because he tries, but it's so fucking lonely to sit at the dinner table with no one but Socks at his side.

"Wait, fuck, I'm sorry." Jack reaches over and curls his fingers around Lee's wrist, his touch so unnaturally gentle Lee nearly bursts into flames. "Is everything okay?"

At the sight of the concern in Jack's chestnut irises, Lee can't help the way he melts a little. He throws his head back with the best grin he can manage. "Everything's fine! I just don't really like eating alone." When Jack lets go of his hand, Lee feels the loss like a knife in his chest. But he can't tell him to touch him again---can't let on exactly how touch-starved he is, so he begins unwrapping one of his cheeseburgers. "For what it's worth, I'm really glad you're here." And then, "It's always more fun to eat with friends." Friends that I really wish were more than friends.

"Sure." There's something in Jack's gaze---something oddly tender, almost sympathetic. Lee drinks his silent pity in like fine wine. Jack takes a bite of his Big Mac and doesn't protest when Lee reaches over to steal a handful of his fries. "So where do you want to go after this? I need to be home by eight for dinner."

"You mean we can't stay here? You could always have dinner in McDonalds too," Lee jokes.

Jack snorts. "You wish. You're the only person I know who chooses going to McDonalds over a hospital when you've just gotten out of a fight and are still bleeding like mad."

A chuckle bubbles past Lee's bruised mouth. "I have priorities, Pref." He steals another fry. Jack either doesn't notice or pretends not to. (He suspects it's the latter.) "Can you drop me off at Yumeko's? It's closer than my house, and the wifey's better at patching me up, anyway. I'll provide directions."

"How will you get home after that, pray tell?"

Lee shrugs. "The marvellous invention we call legs exists?"

Jack exhales exasperatedly. "You're not walking home."

"Why not? I'm fine. Perfect, in fact."

"You're impossible, that's what you are. You're not fine, Lee. I'm not letting you walk home in that state, okay?"

"Why? Do you feel guilty or something?" Lee knows he's playing with fire, toeing the fragile line between too much and just enough, but he's always loved to burn. So burn he does, the flickering orange flames scorching the visage of the dangerous man he's finally let out of the cage of his body. He feels the heat in every canine of his devil-may-care grin, tossing his head back so his blue-grey locks flip over his forehead.

Jack makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. "Of course I feel guilty! You wouldn't have gotten hurt if you hadn't been so fucking stupid and decided to---" His shoulders slump, and he sets his burger down, wiping his fingers on the nearest tissue. Then he reaches over the pile of food between them to brush Lee's bangs away from his forehead.

Jack's touch is a firecracker, exploding into sparks of blue and green and gold in Lee's aching chest. He strokes Lee's hair like he's been doing it forever, and fuck, Lee just---melts. Leans into Jack's rare affection like a starving man, and he swears he accidentally purrs. But there's no time, no space to be embarrassed, not when Jack Sang is stroking his hair and caressing the bruise on his temple like Lee will break if he presses too hard, like Lee's something precious and beautiful and fragile.

The butterflies in Lee's stomach easily escape the velvet confines of his organs, soaring out of his throat until he can't breathe, fluttering against his skin until it stretches taut against his ivory bones, screaming, crying, a perfect storm. He is no longer drowning---he is floating, floating on the road of eternal sunshine Jack's unknowingly paved for him, so high he could touch the cotton-candy clouds.

Oh, Lee thinks mutedly, almost too breathless to speak. I think I may kind of be in love.

Jack pauses, thumb hovering against Lee's bruise, his usual seriousness clouding his eyes. "I don't know why you'd do that."

"I had to. They hurt you." I wanted to hurt them back.

"Not as badly as you hurt them." The bandage on Jack's neck seems to throb in disagreement, but Lee knows he's right---even though he'll never actually admit it. So he remains silent, sore mouth twisted in a petulant pout. "So why'd you do it?"

Lee doesn't reply.

"Lee."

"Jack," Lee shoots back mockingly.

Jack sends him a glare.

Lee sighs, setting down his own burger. The toe of his sneaker hits the underside of the greasy table. "I don't know---" kick "---you're just---" kick "---so good to me and---" His voice breaks, the words crawling back into his throat. They feel dull on the tip of his tongue, cold and blunt and stale.

Something warm settles over his split knuckles. Jack's hand. "Take your time," Jack says.

Lee hangs his head, bangs falling back over his face. "I dunno---guess it's because you're always there for me and shit---you and Yu---and I just kind of wanted to be there for you too---" Because I haven't even seen my dad in over a week and it's been four hundred and three days since Mom stopped picking up my calls and---

He stops. He's shaking.

Jack leans over, brushing Lee's hair away from his face again, his touch so tender Lee wants to kiss every inch of him---his fingertips, his neck, his perfect lips. "Thank you," Jack says, and Lee melts like ice cream on a hot sidewalk. He hesitates, as if trying to find the right words to say. "But you've always been there for me. Even if you don't know it."

Lee looks up, a little in love. The weight of their stars seems to swallow him alive, and shit, being crushed has never felt so good.

A thin scowl crosses Jack's expression. "This isn't an excuse to get all sappy on me."

"I wasn't getting sappy on you."

"You were about to."

Lee chuckles. "Yeah. Maybe I was."

"You definitely were." Jack's face morphs into an uncontrollably affectionate smile, a quick flash of teeth that disappears faster than it had come. Lee feels like he could fly, especially when Jack's large hand covers his own palm again and taps it gently, the gesture so ridiculously intimate that Lee has to actively hang on to himself to keep from tumbling over the edge. This is new---a side of Jack he hardly ever sees, and it's refreshingly welcome. It's a sugar-sweet reminder that under all the grit and prudence, Jack is soft---or at least, he can be. It cracks Lee's pliable chest open like an eggshell and fills his mouth with liquid honey. "Come on, dumbass. Finish your burgers, then I'll take you home."

Oh, Lee thinks again, the notion fleetingly delicate, immaculately flawless. It's more addictive than any drug could ever be, and it sends him spiralling over the brink of the cliff, falling, falling, falling---all the way down into the nicotine cloud called Jack Sang. I am definitely in love.

JACK STROKED LEE'S HAIR mjshdjsjs DON'T TOUCH ME I'M SOFT (no but seriously the way i CRIED when the two extra virgin dumbass oils in my head FINALLY cooperated with each other and had an affectionate moment DON'T TOUCH ME I'M STILL CRYING) like this is a really cathartic moment for me because Jack and Lee haven't had really STRONG voices in my head (unlike Jeong-Soon and Gregory, who practically wrote their own story because they Would Not Shut Up) UNTIL TODAY when they FINALLY decided to speak up. now they Will Not Shut Up and I LOVE IT I'M SO HAPPY

if you haven't figured it out already...yes, Jack is Wasian. if you don't like that, suck my nuts, you racist pig.

(also yes i'm bringing my culture into this, because half the Asian grandmas here are like "eh ah boy ah eat more 来来来" and we love them for it)

ANYGAYS

happy birthday tOoOo yoUuuu (track 9 and 10 LMFAO) WHY DID IT TAKE ME 4 MONTHS TO NOTICE THIS 😭 LIKE I WROTE THIS SCHIST IN FEBRUARY AND I DIDN'T EVEN REALISE I WAS ACCIDENTALLY DECLARING HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN THE CHAPTER LIST UNTIL NOW 😭😭😭

happy pride month, babes! as a biromantic guy who's also somewhere on the ace spectrum I AM THRIVING like my power stats instantly increase by 1000% the moment June rolls around cause I'M GAY but ANYGAYS happy pride to all my non-straighties out there! (don't worry, straggots. i love y'alls too.) let's wave our rainbow flags up high this month cause we're here and we're queer :D 🏳️‍🌈

i'm writing a Seobyul (Seori x Moonbyul) fanfic on my fanfiction account for Pride if that's something you're interested in! Seobyul is admittedly a rarepair but i mean, Shutdown is a bop. and Queen Moonbyul herself confirmed it to be gay as hell. so. yes. if you like Seori and/or Moonbyul and/or kpop in general, check it out! (or at least praise my cover drawing skills cause i drew the cover myself for that book too AHAHAHA)

sorry i've been inactive despite promising to be active, lmaooo. just finished band camp and WHEW i love my kids but being a father to like 4 ppl is HARD (i've got 6 kids but 2 are actually responsible so yee yee) had to teach, organise, headcount, remind, tell stories, force them to memorise their scores, and make sure they all ate lmao BUT i have this whole week off! so prepare to see some major speedrunning for Crackerbox because Wattys submission is in August oh my

SO WHAT DID Y'ALLS THINK OF THIS CHAPTER please let me know as i am a sad desperate very gay attention whore

love you guys, and make sure to stay safe and healthy!

xoxo, Alex