The door to the bedroom slowly creaked open.

Jeongin shifted in the warm sheets, pulling the blanket over his shoulder even more as the light from outside peaked into the darkened room. He had half the will to yell at the person invading his perfect bubble of impenetrable darkness and doom, but the better half of himself kept the sheets tangled around his limbs and his eyes squeezed shut as sleep evaded him. Maybe if he poisoned himself, he'd be able to get a decent night of sleep. No, too dangerous. Maybe if he asked Chan to hit him really hard, he could get a decent night of sleep. Though, knowing the older, he would never agree to that scheme. As much as both of them needed it.

A weight depressed the edge of the bed by Jeongin's hips, the younger struggling to keep his eyes closed and demanding to sleep. Like an echo, a ghost of a chance, fingertips brushed along his cheekbone as if they were guiding lines that kept them grounded in this world. Grounded from whatever else may blow them off their intended course. They danced on his skin, hesitating over the barely visible mark his mom left him, before settling on the bed behind Jeongin's shoulders.

Lips pressed against his temple. That touch, that contact, it was so gentle, so delicate. It was once so sure if itself, but now it felt heavy with a regret. A desire. It was one he often reflected in his mirror image, yet never had the will or want to pursue something so dangerous. Like the fangs of a cobra staring back at him, or the eyes of hyenas circling him and waiting for the right time to scavenge everything he had left to offer. It was almost humorous to him, that he too owned those eyes. He was sure that if he wasn't careful, he would easily be consumed by what that feeling was.

As if echoing his thoughts, the lips glided along his skin, leaving soft kisses on his jaw and neck as if they were coated with their own sweet taste. He let his hands curl tighter around the bedsheets.

Tentatively, and almost tantalizingly, those lips eventually found themselves at Jeongin's ear and whispered, "Know you're awake."

"Damn," Jeongin let his eyes drift open, being met with the sight of an amused Chan coming to brace himself up off the bed. The younger rolled on to his back, arm flinging over his eyes in a miserable fashion that hopefully told his company how desperate he was for a bit of sleep, "I was hoping you'd keep going."

"Not when you're trying to sleep," The older responded as his arm buckled and he collapsed against his songbird's chest, head thumping against where his heart gently coddled them into a comforting rhythm. A heavy sigh deflated Chan as he nearly crushed Jeongin under his weight, only taking a moment to press a light kiss to his chest before easing back into their position.

For someone who kept an aura of strength about him, this air of enigmatic grandeur that was unrivaled even in the best of situations, he seemed small in that moment. As if the armor he built up for himself finally shed, making away for a familiar touch that offered him an affection that blockade deprived him of. Knowing that he was finally comfortable enough to return even a bit of that affection, it swelled Jeongin's chest with a feeling that could overwhelm him. For someone who was always at the top, someone who always had the answers, someone who was considered strong, it must be lonely at times.

He would know that. Of all the days he spent confined in his room, crumbling in this cruel world without a taste of salvation because he was supposed to be the perfect child. Perfect grades. Perfect face. Perfect. Left foot, right foot, marching forward to the edge till dying to his demons was a privilege. That world seemed so far away now. Or, not far. It was still here in this room, in another form, waiting for it's moment to tighten it's grip to toss them both over.

Changbin was right about one thing. They really did need to realize how much they became shredded in this inescapable pit called 'Hell' that blocked out the sun and turned the city to a downpour of ash.

Jeongin's grip on the older fastened as he called lightly, "Chan? Can we go for a drive?"

"Nearly sunrise," Chan muttered into his shirt. He shifted until he was able to properly look at the younger, the exhaust scratching his voice becoming more audible, "Should be asleep by now."

Jeongin stared at Chan for a few more beats.

Ten minutes later, he was relaxed in the passanger seat of Chan's car. The gentle grind of wheels on city streets awoke his mind to memories of countless drives before this, under different circumstances but the same degrading feeling leeching the life from their veins while they chased another future down the highway. Running from another impending end that's yet to reach them. The eyes that followed them. Those hungry eyes that devoured them alive. They just kept running from it. Bleeding, leaving a trail for them to find, hints that left them cornered.

A soothing hand broke Jeongin's thoughts, and lessened the strain he kept on his furrowed eyebrows as it rubbed at the back of his hand. Chan spoke softly, softer than he usually did in their times alone, "Did you want to talk about anything?"

"No, I just missed this," Jeongin threaded their fingers together in a familiar fashion, the movement so engraved in his mind anyone would think he'd done it millions of times before this one. He brought the hand to his lips, breath dusting over the knuckles that bruised almost without notice, "Things have been complicated lately. I really want to forget everything that's been happening for a bit."

As Chan hummed a light acknowledgement, having to wiggle his hand away to take an road that took them farther from the city, Jeongin leaned his head against the window. If only he could fly away from all the fears he kept caged away in his mind; This voracious want to be shown that fondness from someone, to be cared for, to be loved, and trying to figure out how and where and why someone would be given any one of those things. In the end, that's what it always came down to, wasn't it? The fact nobody wants to be alone. And you become scared, because you're afraid to let go of the only thing you know.

"Can I ask a selfish question?" Jeongin asked as he watched the lines of the highway pass below the car's tires.

"Can ask me anything you want," The older responded promptly. He swiftly added on, "Owe you that much."

"What do I mean to you?"

"Won't like me saying this, but if you're asking me to give you a worth, I can't give that to you," Chan's grip on the steering wheel tightened, "Could tell you all these great things I do or do not think about you, but none of it matters if you're not ready to accept that."

"I don't know how. I mean, how can I be confident in myself when my whole life I've been told not to be?" Jeongin exhaled sharply as he kicked his foot up on the glovebox, using the leverage to press back into his seat as he tried to find a comfortable position but ultimately not being able to find one. He chewed at the inside of his cheeks, shoulders unconsciously reverting to their old habit of rolling forward into his turtle shell as he told, "My self-esteem is like ppfffthh."

"Self-esteem and self worth are different things."

"How do you find both of them?"

"Value," Chan hummed. His tired eyes briefly escaped the strong hold of the streets when it straightened out to an open vastness of nothing. Nothing in front of them on the roads, no cars, no city skylines, simply a field that led them away from it all. He glanced to the younger next to him, "But it's the value you give yourself, not what others give you. Not easy to realize that though."

Jeongin nodded a light agreement, that had been one if the major contenders in list of personal issues he needed to tackle before even attempting to worry about other's. Even then, as he relaxed in his seat again, foot dropping from it's press against the glovebox, he let his shoulders iron out as that hunched position began to send aches through his back, "I hate being like this, you know? I want to be helpful, but as I am, I feel like I'm hindering everyone around me. I'm watching all these people I care about crash and I can't do anything about it."

"Some cultures believed humans were made from clay. Great thing about people; Can be made into anyone we want. Start off as this ball of nothing and we can be molded into anything we dream of. We can change."

"Where do you start? How do I take this little clay glob of a human, or a canary, that's me and give it life? How do you give a thing that has no worth, worth?"

Chan went quiet for a few beats. Suddenly, the car began to lose it's oppressive speed the King always forced it to keep in order to overtake the world that spread before his sight. Jeongin's head swiveled to him, nerves suddenly spiking as the older pulled the car to the shoulder of the road and slide the ignition into park. He stumbled, "What- what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Chan reassured as he undid his seatbelt. Jeongin tightened his grip on his own, eyebrows furrowing together as he watched the older scuffle around in the driver's seat for a few more beats before finally turning to him. That smile was back on his face. That one that comforted yet taunted with the glimmer in his eyes, that same damn smile that he seemed to have forgotten, but it returned to his features as if there was no difference. It edged him on, irked him beyond belief, and told him there was nothing but a dangerous path he was about to send them down without a hint of mercy. And of course, of course, he just had to turn to Jeongin and rekindle that addictive feeling to the risks hiding behind the older's eyes, "Did you want to drive?"

Yes. But Jeongin slid down in his seat, attempting to dodge the hands that reached to undo his seatbelt, "This is 'not wrong'?! I don't-"

"Switch with me."

"No-"

"Come on."

"Chan-"

"I'll teach you."

His eyes narrowed at the street racer. How could he have ignored that? At his core, this man was high on adrenaline, looking for a risk, betting his life, gambling away money that never belonged to him. Among everything, he might have lost sight of that simple fact. Everything was a risk, one after another, no matter the cost of his life. Risks came with rewards, and sometimes risks came with damages, things that could never be repaired. At his core, Chan was a street racer and he was the best there was. Not because of the risks he took on and succeeded, but because of the risks he took on and failed at. One more time, like pummelling your fist into a brick wall until the brick wall broke bit by bit. He learned.

That's all people ever do, is learn. We learn, time and time again, we learn how to survive. Eventually, that turns into living.

They were the masters of living. And Jeongin, had been surviving. Now, they were trying to survive, and Jeongin needed to learn how to live.

He arched an eyebrow, body leaning on the uncomfortable support of the door behind him as he folded his arms over his chest. Jeongin edged in a hesitant tone, though somewhere deep down he knew what he wanted, "Do you really think I can?"

"Let's find out," Chan had never looked as eager as he did when he received that response. He kicked the driver's door open, motioning for Jeongin to climb into the driver's seat as he exited the vehicle. The younger complied without any more fuss, taking extra care to not bump the car into another gear as he settled into the seat he once hurriedly familiarized himself with in a faint memory. The pedals buckled under his shoes. The wheel felt slick under his touch. Chan took his place in the passenger side, quickly buckling himself in as he instructed, "Seatbelt on. If your seat is comfortable, both hands on the steering wheel."

Jeongin wordlessly adjusted his seat and plopped both hands on the wheel.

Chan continued to inform, sounding as proper as a serious driving instructor, "Don't do anything yet, this is a powerful car so it's going to be more sensitive. You don't need to press as hard on the gas, okay?"

"Okay."

"First thing, put it into drive, and slowly roll back on to the highway. No one is around so you can take it as you need. Okay?"

"...okay."

"Speed limit through here is decent, it's a highway. If you think it's too much then tell me and I can keep driving, but again, no one is around so you can take it slow till you can get used to it. Okay?"

Jeongin's grip on the steering wheel tightened. His lips pressed into a thin line, the tenseness in his shoulders stiffening till he felt like nothing but a rigid statue in place of a real human. He tried to remind himself that he wanted to drive, he wanted this freedom yet, when he was finally faced with it all he could do was listen to the thundering of his heart overriding any sound that might have come in to touch his eardrums.

Thump

Thump

Thump

"Songbird."

Thump

Thump

Thump

"Songbird, look at me," Cold fingers pressed against his neck.

His head snapped in the direction of the one who called him back, cramped hands releasing from their incredible grip they kept on the wheel and loosening to hang off the bottom.

Chan removed the connection carefully. His breathing was steady, a calm presence next to Jeongin that quenched the mild panic building in his chest and told him to refocus on the road ahead of him. Slowly, the beating in his ears settled and the older came into focus. He smiled softly, "Breathe. I'm here to take the wheel if something goes wrong."

Jeongin muttered a quiet 'okay' barely loud enough for anyone but himself to hear, repeating the word to himself a few times as he nodded vigorously, forcing each breath to be deeper than the last till it reached the depths of his lungs and removed the chains that constricted his breathing. Taking the risk, his hands placed themselves back to their proper position on the steering wheel. All chances to turn back flew out the window as he shifted the car into drive and it's tires began to roll against the shoulder of the road. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.

Gingerly, he forced the petal to buckle under the sole of his shoe. The car lurched forward, springing them forward before they thudded back into their seats. Jeongin shrieked, "Sorry!"

"Did that a lot when I was learning too, just a bit heavy on the gas," Chan let out a light laugh. He told, "Need to relax."

Again, Jeongin nodded a silent response, mind focused on the road before them. He tried once more, being as gentle as he could be with the gas pedal and reaping the rewards when the car responded to him as he want it to, gliding gently back on to the road as he steered with a stiff hand that was beginning to ease on its own tenseness. Beside him, Chan hummed lightly. He was sure if his eyes weren't glued to the road like it was a train coming to collide with them head on and he took the time to glance at the other, his lips would be turned into a smile. That thought alone was enough to make him press down a little bit closer, and push on a little bit farther.

Although he hiccupped more than once, eventually he was able to bring that classic silver car up to the normal speed of the highway. The feeling of the pedal under his shoe and the wheel under his fingertips began to feel natural. They began to meld into his own being, and at some point he realized it wasn't just the car that was running on the highway. Left foot, right foot, he was running too, closer to an edge where he could rule over the demons that dragged him to an untimely death.

"I really like this," Jeongin smiled, a certain childish joy bubbling in his body. One he didn't know he still was able to feel, one he didn't know he still remembered the feeling of. Yet it was there. As he sped down the everlasting concrete snake of a highway, it was there.

The older nodded, "Then keep driving."

"Forward?"

"Anywhere. Your choice now," Chan leaned back in the passengers seat, eyes gently fluttering shut as he watched the road ahead be engulfed under tires. The beginnings of a morning sun glinted off of his features growing tired against his seat. The quiet words fell from his lips, "Let yourself fly."

As Jeongin found himself never wanting to let go of the feeling driving that car down the highway filled him with, and Chan let him sing as happily as he wished, he realized that was a simple truth.

Even a canary meant to die, was worth a lifetime to a miner.

✘