- 6 months ago -

The silence sits heavily in the air, thick enough to crush the room around them. Laya stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the car as she stares at the contract resting on the workbench across from her. 

"I don't think it's a bad idea." She finally says, sighing. "I mean - he had a lot to offer-" Her eyes flick towards Noir, who hasn't moved an inch since Maksim walked out. 

"Noir?" She steps forward carefully, concern pulling at her brows. "Are you-"

"Ебать." His voice cracks, fists clenched and lightly trembling. The same familiar panic rushes in. His chest tightens, heat coils in his stomach, throat closing. 

"Noir, talk to me, now-" Laya reaches for him, but he flinches back like the touch burns. He backs into the metal workbench, making the tools clatter loudly - too loudly in his ears. 

He slowly crouches, hands clamped over his ears, muttering Russian under his breath. 

"R-Noir." Laya kneels in front of him, sliding her hands up his chest. He goes rigid at first, then slowly melts into the touch, breath shaking. 

"It's okay, just-"

"No its not!" Noir snaps, eyes going glassy. "Laya, you don't - that was -" He slams his fist against the floor, jaw clenched. He swallows hard. "He shouldn't be here." 

Laya cups his cheeks, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Noir," she murmurs softly. "Breath with me."

It always helps. Not completely, but enough to pull him back. Slowly, she guides him to the couch, watching as he stiffly sinks into the cushions. 

"He won't find out." Laya says gently. "Not unless we tell him. There's no way he would." She hands him the contract. "I know this is the last thing you want to think about, but... we can't keep going without a sponsor." She sighs. "I'm saying this as your friend and your lead technician."

Noir snorts, bending the paper slightly between his fingers. "Don't pull that card on me."

"I'm serious." Her gaze sharpens. "You want to go to the Grand Prix, don't you?" She pats his thigh lightly. "Yeah, you two have a nasty history, but his company is offering a lot - did you even see the mental health coverage?" She points at the section, hopping to her feet. 

"Medications, therapist visits- hell, he even said he can expand the benefits if needed. Don't you think that could help?"

"I have enough money for a therapist. I don't need free ones." 

You say that like I don't know, asshole." Laya snaps, eyes hard. "But he can make you go." 

Noir's eyes shoot up, burning. "He'll make me go... again..." He mutters.

"Shit," She whispers. She'd pushed too far. "I didn't mean it like that."

He looks down at the contract, thumb dragging across an already forming crease. She has a point. Without funding, traveling out of the country for the Grand Prix would drain them completely. 

Honestly, it's a miracle they even made it this far. 

Laya watches him think, and it's enough. Just a little more nudging. "And he treated me with respect," she says, arms crossing again. 

Noir glances at her. 

"He didn't question me once when I said I was the head mechanic. He's dumb, sure - but I can tell he means well."

Noir grits his teeth, then finally exhales and digs a pen out of his pocket. He scribbles his signatiture down in a messy scrawl. 

"There." He mutters. 

Laya squeals, launching herself onto him in a hug. Noir freezes up. 

"Off- Off!" He stammers, ears burning as she pulls back with a huge grin. 

"Us? Sponsored? New gear, new supplies - I can finally get this hunk of junk back in shape, baby!" She beams, practically vibrating with excitement. "I'm gonna go give it to him before he leaves!"

Noir watches her run off, then sinks back into the futon with a heavy sigh, burying his face in his hands. 
This is going to make everything a lot more complicated. 

-Present Day- 

The door to the penthouse slams shut behind them as they walk inside, drenched. It had started downpouring the moment they reached the lot, and neither of them had checked the weather, so umbrellas were out of the question. 

Being soaked would usually be okay, but being drenched in a suit that costs a few hundred rubles is something that irks Eunwoo. Why does the fabric feel scratchier now? And to make things worse, he and Maksim hadn't spoken a single word the entire drive home.

His jaw tightens as he fumbles with the buttons, hands trembling from teh cold. 

"Here, let me do it." 

Maksim tosses his jacket into the sink it let it drain and walks over, pushing Eunwoo's hands aside and undoing the buttons easily. 

"Why are you mad at me?" Eunwoo asks quietly. 

"I'm not mad."

"You clearly are," Eunwoo sighs. "What could you possibly be mat at?"

"I told you, I'm not mad." Maksim steps back. "I just - told you to stay away from that guy, and you go off getting all mushy with him?" His tone sharpens, bitter. 

Eunwoo scoffs. Actually scoffs. 

"What?"

"Maksim." He crosses his arms. "I'm not a child. I don't need you constantly breathing down my neck." Even as kids, Maksim was overprotective. It's reassuring sometimes... but also suffocating. 

"I don't see you as a child, Eunwoo, I just -"

"Maksim." Euwnoo says again, voice a bit firmer. "It's okay," He says, leaning against the back of the couch. "All we did was talk and he gave me his jacket because I got cold." He shrugs. "And he wasn't rude at all. He looked more stressed out than anything." He says honestly. 

Maksim heaves a sigh. "Look I'm sorry." he starts off. "But It's true when I say I'm not mad... at you." He clears his throat.

Eunwoo stares at him in disbelief. "Would you grow up?"

Maksim groans. "Eunwoo you don't get it. I don't want you anywhere near Noir. I've been working with the guy for 6 months. He's not someone you want to get involved with."

Eunwoo has heard enough. "I'm taking a shower and going to bed. Tonight sucked. Don't bring me to one of those things again."

He slips into the guest room, shutting the door with a shaky breath. He's exhausted. Bone-deep exhausted. 

He strips off the soaked clothes, fighting with the fabric that clings stubbornly to his skin. "God - fuck -" He kicks the pants off, exasperated. 

The bathroom is already warm with steam, the massive glass shower humming softly as water hits stone. He steps in, sighing as the heat spreads up his spine. Finally - something that doesn't feel miserable. 

Later, Eunwoo lies on his bed, robe tied tightly around his waist. He stares at the ceiling blankly, zoning out. 

"You went to a gala? What the hell for?"  

"Maksim had to go for work and he invited me." Eunwoo says, phone pressed to his ear as he flops back against the pillows. 
Chase is loudly eating on the other line. He figured he should call him. He's much more carefree than Maksim is. "Hey, can you maybe not chew in my ear-" 

"Well was it fun at least?"

"I mean... I guess." He lightly pats down his pillow. "It's weird being back. It feels like I never left." 

"Why is that weird? You're home." Chase tells him. "Don't ruin it for yourself. Relax a little. Where're you visiting your parents?" 

Eunwoo sighs heavily. "Not for awhile. They're on vacation right now." Of course they had to go right when he arrived. Did they not miss him at all? 

Chase just hums. "The kids miss you. They keep asking to play dodgeball during gym and absolutely annihilate me. My balls got crushed yesterday. I'm pretty sure it's because they miss you." 

That makes a soft laugh leave Eunwoo's lips. "Is that so?" His eyes droop, another wave of tiredness washing over him. "I'm going to head to bed." He murmurs. "Have a good rest of your day." 

"Night! Sleep well! Love you, pookie!"

A smile stretches across Eunwoo's face as he hangs up, tossing his phone to the nightstand. 

Slipping under the covers is the best feeling he's had all day. The silk glides over his skin - he doesn't even bother changing out of the robe. He's too tired to care. 

"Eunwoo?" 

Maksim knocks lightly before peeking inside. "Hey. I brought you some tea." 

Eunwoo blinks awake and slowly sits up, accepting the mug. "Thank you." The steam rises in soft lavender curls. 

"I'm sorry about earlier," Maksim says as he sits at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath him. "You're not a child. I shouldn't be acting so overprotective." 

He picks at a loose thread on his shirt. "It's just that... you ran to America as soon as we graduated. And then I lost my brother." 

Eunwoo's eyes widen. "Maksim-" 

"I wasn't protective enough with Rian and I lost him. I'm afraid that I'll lose you, too." 

Eunwoo's chest tightens. He hasn't seen Maksim like this in a long time - maybe he was too harsh earlier. 

"Hey," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around him, resting his chin on his shoulder. "You weren't a bad brother." 

Maksim stills, breath catching. Eunwoo can practically feel the guilt crawling up his spine. 

"You did the best you could. You were 17. Mistakes happened - that doesn't make you a failure."

Maksim stares down at his hands, eyes stinging. "If he were still here I'd-" His voice breaks into a quiet, helpless sob. 

"Shh." Eunwoo rubs slow circles on his back. "I know. It's okay." 

They stay like that for a long time, holding onto each other until eventually the warmth and exhaustion pull them both under. It feels like being kids again - back when life wasn't so painfully complicated. 

_

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"No."

They had arrived at the garage not too long ago. Laya isn't surprised - he always comes here when something's eating at him. 

Noir walks toward the matte-black race car, using his teeth to tug open the velcro on his gloves. 

"Are you sure?" She presses gently.

He hesitates. Just for a second, then nods. "Yeah."

She sighs. Not unexpected. He never wants to talk. "So what're you going to do now that your long-lost love is back in the picture?"

Noir's jaw flexes, but he doesn't rise to the bait. "Do the same thing I always do." He grabs his helmet, the white streaks catching the dim yellow light above them. "Play pretend." 

He slides it on and looks at her. "Wanna race?"

A playful glint sits in his eyes, something that only Laya sees. She smirks. 

"Loser gets to buy dinner," Noir starts. "At Hubbies." Her eyes light up in competition. Hubbies is her all time favorite restaurant. 

She throws her hair back, messily tying it into a ponytail as she grabs a key from the keybox on the wall. It's to a spare racecar that is often used if the main one is under repairs. 

"You're on." 

Noir snaps his visor shut.