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Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Miami Heat

Miami never slept. Neon lights reflected off wet tarmac, palm trees swayed in the humid night air, and bass-heavy reggaeton thumped from every corner of Little Havana to South Beach. For Brian O’Connor, it was chaos and comfort all at once. He leaned against the hood of his Skyline, baby-blue eyes fixed on the rows of brightly painted cars lined up in Tej’s lot.

He liked it here. The rumble of engines, the smell of grease and rubber, the chatter of racers—it drowned out the noise in his head. No LAPD badges. No undercover lies. No Dom’s shadow chasing him. Just Brian, Miami, and a fresh start.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“Bullitt!”

Her voice cut through the buzz like a siren, pulling his gaze toward her. Brian turned, and there she was: Suki. Petite, all energy and color, rocking bubblegum pink shorts and a white crop top already smudged with grease. She had that baby face of hers set in a smirk, blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail that swung as she crossed the garage floor toward him.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been standing out here brooding again.” She leaned against his Skyline, pink-tipped nails tapping the hood like it belonged to her.

Brian arched a brow. “Brooding? I was just… thinking.”

“Same thing,” she shot back, grinning.

She always called him Bullitt. The nickname stuck after she caught him watching Bullitt on a beat-up VHS in Tej’s lounge one night. Brian never minded; it sounded better when she said it, like she’d turned his name into a secret between them.

“You’re lucky I like you, Suki,” he said, shaking his head.

“Of course you like me,” she teased, chin tilted up defiantly despite the fact that she barely reached his shoulder. “Everyone likes me.”

Brian’s lips quirked, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he let his eyes wander briefly over her Honda S2000 parked nearby, its hot-pink body catching the light. The anime girl decal winked at him from the side panel, playful and bold—just like Suki.

Inside the garage, the usual chaos reigned. Tej barked orders at a pair of mechanics, Rome laughed loud enough for the whole block to hear, and the air smelled like fried plantains someone had bought from the food truck out front. The garage was more than a shop—it was a safe space, a family.

“Hey, white boy,” Rome called from across the room, already grinning. “You finally gonna teach your girl how to drive straight?”

Suki threw a rag at him. “Don’t be mad just ‘cause I smoked your ass last week!”

“Man, you ain’t smoke nothin’! You cut that corner like you were playin’ bumper cars!”

Brian laughed, sliding past them toward the workbench. Rome might talk big, but even he wasn’t immune to Suki’s fire. She had a way of lighting up a room, and though Brian tried not to think too hard about it, she lit him up too.

Later, the night air wrapped thick and heavy around them as the crew gathered outside. Cars lined the street in bright, defiant colors—machines polished like jewels. Engines revved, music blasted, and onlookers leaned against hoods with beers in hand. Miami street racing wasn’t just a hobby. It was a lifestyle and family all rolled into one.

Brian leaned against his Skyline again, beer in hand. He scanned the crowd—Rome chatting up a few ladies, Tej counting bills, and Suki leaning over her S2000 with a wrench. The neon painted her skin pink, like she belonged to the city itself.

“You racing tonight?” he asked when she caught his eye.

Suki blew a strand of hair from her face and shrugged. “Maybe. Depends if the boys bring anything worth my time.”

Brian smirked. “Cocky as ever.”

“Confident,” she corrected. Then, with that mischievous tilt of her lips, “Don’t worry, Bullitt. I’ll save you a seat in the winner’s circle.”

Brian chuckled, shaking his head. He couldn’t decide what was more dangerous—the Miami streets or the way she looked at him sometimes, eyes sparkling like she saw through all his walls.

Hours later, the races were done. Rome lost, naturally, and blamed “bad tires.” Tej laughed all the way to the bank. Suki came in second, her pink Honda roaring down the strip like a candy-coated bullet. Brian watched her climb out of the driver’s seat, cheeks flushed, hair wild, smile wide.

She was electric.

“Close one,” Brian said as she walked over.

“Close doesn’t cut it, Bullitt,” she said, tossing her keys at him playfully. “You think you could’ve done better?”

Brian caught the keys effortlessly, smirking. “You wanna find out?”

The look in her eyes was pure challenge and something else. Something softer beneath the heat.

For a moment, the noise around them faded. It was just the two of them, standing too close, breath mingling in the sticky night air. He noticed how small she was next to him, how the grease smudge on her cheek only made her prettier. She tilted her chin up, daring him to break the spell.

He didn’t. Couldn’t. Not yet.

“One day,” he said finally, tossing her keys back. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Suki caught them, smirk spreading slow and dangerous. 

That night, Brian lay in his apartment staring at the ceiling, the hum of the city outside his window. He should’ve been thinking about cars, or the next race, or whether the cops were paying too much attention again. But all he could see was her—pink nails tapping his hood, grease on her cheek, eyes daring him to step closer.

He’d promised himself no complications. Miami was supposed to be clean—no deep ties, no dangerous emotions. Just cars, races, freedom.

But Suki wasn’t a complication. She was gravity.

And he was already falling.

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Chapter 2: Grease and Gasoline

The garage was quiet after hours. Most nights, Tej kicked everyone out by midnight, but Brian had a key, and Suki had a habit of sticking around when she felt like it.

Brian crouched beside his Skyline, sleeves rolled up, grease smudged across his forearms as he adjusted the intercooler piping. The city hummed faintly outside, but in here, it was just tools clinking, the faint buzz of the radio, and the steady rhythm of their breathing.

“Bullitt,” Suki’s voice came, soft but teasing. “You ever sleep?”

Brian looked up to find her perched on the workbench, legs swinging, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She’d changed into cutoff shorts and an oversized tee, the hem brushing mid-thigh. 

“Cars don’t build themselves,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Neither do you,” she countered. “You’ve been running on fumes since I met you.”

Brian smirked, standing to stretch. His height towered over her, and she tilted her chin up, defiant even in the shadow of him. “I thought you liked me this way.”

“I like giving you hell,” she said, grinning.

He leaned against the bench beside her, their shoulders brushing, electricity sparking at the contact. He caught the faint scent of cherry lip gloss and motor oil. An odd mix. Addictive.

“You ever think about slowing down, Suki?” he asked quietly.

She laughed, short and sharp. “Slowing down? Me? Bullitt, if I slowed down, I’d disappear.”

There was something under the joke, something raw. Brian didn’t push. He knew better than anyone that racing wasn’t just about speed—it was about survival, about control, about running from something you couldn’t name.

The next night brought another meet. This one was bigger, louder, with more money on the line. Brian pulled up in the Skyline, Rome in the passenger seat, already talking smack.

“You see Suki yet?” Rome asked, grinning knowingly.

Brian shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, B. Everybody sees it. The way you two circle each other, one of y’all gonna crack.”

“Drop it, Rome.”

Rome chuckled. “Hey, I’m just sayin’… if you don’t make a move, someone else will.”

Brian clenched the wheel tighter, jaw ticking.

Sure enough, when they arrived, Suki wasn’t alone. A tall racer named Marco leaned against her pink Honda, laughing at something she’d said. Marco was all swagger—tattoos, gold chain, cocky grin. Brian’s stomach knotted in a way he didn’t care to analyze.

Suki spotted him, eyes lighting up. “Bullitt!” she called, waving him over.

Marco turned, sizing Brian up. “This your boy?”

“Something like that,” Suki said with a smirk.

Brian forced a polite nod, but his voice came out flat. “What’s up.”

Marco chuckled. “He don’t talk much, huh?”

Suki laughed too, but her eyes flicked to Brian’s, searching. He shrugged it off, leaning against his Skyline, arms crossed.

Rome’s words echoed in his head: If you don’t make a move, someone else will.

The races that night blurred into noise and smoke. Brian drove like hell, winning his race, but his focus wasn’t on the finish line. It was on the way Marco hovered too close to Suki, the way she laughed at his jokes, the way jealousy burned hot in Brian’s chest.

Afterward, back at the garage, Brian threw himself into fixing a minor scrape on the Skyline’s bumper. Suki appeared, holding two cold beers. She handed him one, settling beside him on the floor.

“You were quiet tonight,” she said.

“Just tired,” he muttered.

She studied him, head tilted, baby face softening. “You jealous?”

Brian barked a laugh, too sharp. “Of Marco? Please.”

Suki smirked knowingly. “Relax, Bullitt. He’s not my type.”

Brian risked a glance at her. “Oh yeah? And what is your type?”

She didn’t answer right away. Just leaned back on her hands, legs stretched out, eyes tracing him slowly like she was deciding how much to give away. Finally, she whispered: “Tall. Blonde. Ocean eyes. Always trying to pretend he’s not the center of the room.”

Brian’s throat went dry. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words jammed up. Suki smirked, taking a long sip of her beer like she hadn’t just wrecked him.

“Don’t worry,” she added lightly. “You’re safe, Bullitt.”

But the way she looked at him over the bottle’s rim told him he wasn’t safe at all.

Later that night, long after she’d left, Brian lay awake again. The city lights streaked through his blinds, and his thoughts refused to quiet. He replayed her words, her smirk, the way her thigh brushed his when they sat on the floor.

Safe? No. Not safe. Not with her.

But maybe he didn’t want safe.

Maybe he wanted Suki.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Sparks and Bruises

The Miami heat clung thick to the air that weekend. Another meet, another sea of neon, another excuse for adrenaline junkies to put it all on the line. Tej’s crew rolled in, Brian in his Skyline, Rome mouthing off in his Eclipse, and Suki in her pink S2000, decals flashing under the streetlights.

Brian liked these nights. The crowd, the energy, the way engines growled like caged animals. But tonight he couldn’t shake the edge prickling under his skin. Ever since Marco’s little performance last time, Brian had been restless.

And sure enough, Marco was back.

He found Suki near the concession truck, leaning casually against her Honda. She was sipping a soda, laughing at something one of her girlfriends had said, when Marco slid up beside her, hand grazing her arm like he had every right.

“Hey, angel,” Marco drawled. “You gonna let me ride with you tonight?”

Suki rolled her eyes. “In your dreams.”

“Baby, I can make those dreams real,” he said, leaning closer, fingers brushing her waist.

Brian’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists before he even realized he was moving.

“Back off, Marco,” Suki snapped, shoving his hand away.

Marco laughed, cocky as ever, and reached again—this time lower, fingers skimming the curve of her hip.

Brian didn’t think. He just acted.

In two strides, he was there, grabbing Marco’s wrist and yanking it off her. “She said back off,” Brian growled, voice low and dangerous.

Marco sneered. “And who the hell are you? Her babysitter?”

Brian’s blue eyes burned. “Try me.”

Marco shoved him, hard. Brian shoved back. In seconds, fists were flying—knuckles cracking against jaws, Marco swinging wild, Brian ducking low and driving a punch straight into his ribs. The crowd roared, phones out, the fight spilling across the lot like fuel on fire.

Rome’s voice cut through the chaos. “Brian! Chill, man!”

But Brian didn’t chill. Not until Marco staggered back, lip split, cursing as his buddies pulled him away.

“Punk ain’t worth it,” Rome muttered, grabbing Brian’s shoulder.

Brian stood there, chest heaving, lip bleeding, knuckles raw. And Suki—Suki was staring at him with wide eyes, equal parts shock and something hotter, sharper.

Later, when the crowd had dispersed and Tej had barked everyone back to business, Brian found himself sitting on the hood of his Skyline, nursing his split lip with an ice pack Rome had shoved at him.

“You’re a dumbass,” Suki said softly.

He looked up. She was standing there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“Yeah, maybe,” he muttered.

She sighed, climbing onto the hood beside him. For a moment, they sat in silence, the night air heavy around them. Then she reached out, fingers brushing his jaw.

Brian froze.

“You’re bleeding,” she said simply, thumb grazing the cut on his lip. She leaned closer, pulling a clean cloth from somewhere and dabbing gently. Her touch was feather-light, but it burned like fire all the same.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured, eyes fixed on his.

“He put his hands on you,” Brian said, voice rough. “I wasn’t about to stand there and watch.”

Her lips parted, a tiny breath escaping. “Bullitt…”

The nickname was softer this time. Less teasing, more… something else.

Brian swallowed hard, every nerve in his body screaming at him to close the inch of space between them. Her baby face was so close, her eyes bright even in the dark, her lips barely a whisper away.

But then she pulled back, smile flickering. “You’re still a dumbass.”

Brian huffed out a laugh, tension snapping like a wire stretched too tight. “Yeah. Guess I am.”

She shook her head, still dabbing at his lip. “Next time, try not to get your pretty face messed up, Bullitt. I kinda like looking at it.”

Brian’s chest tightened, heat curling low in his stomach. But all he said was, “Noted.”

That night, long after Suki left the garage, Brian caught himself touching his lip, not because it hurt but because it still felt like her fingers were there.

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Chapter 4: Empty Spaces

The garage wasn’t the same without Suki.

For the first couple nights, Brian brushed it off. Maybe she needed a break after the incident with Marco. Or maybe she was tweaking the S2000, designing a new pink-and-chrome masterpiece to show off at the next meet.

But then a week passed. Then two.

Her usual seat on the workbench stayed empty. Her laughter, sharp and sweet, was missing from the late-night tuning sessions. Rome tried to fill the void with more jokes, louder trash talk, but it wasn’t the same. Tej grumbled about missing his “best sidekick,” but his eyes flicked toward the door more often than usual.

Brian felt it the hardest.

Every time he looked at the corner of the garage, where the S2000 usually parked, he felt that ache. Like the whole place had lost its spark.

Suki had sent a single text to the group chat the night she went dark.

‘Not gonna be around for a bit. Don’t wait up’.

That was it. No emojis, no explanation, nothing more nothing less.

He read it more times than he wanted to admit.

By the tenth day, Brian couldn’t take it anymore.

He waited until the garage slowed down for the night, then slipped away. He knew enough about her to figure it out. He’d dropped her off once or twice after late runs, seen the quiet neighborhood with its cracked sidewalks and swaying palms.

Her house was small, paint peeling, but neat. A modest little place tucked between bigger, louder neighbors. The porch light glowed dim, and a row of potted plants lined the walkway.

He knocked.

It wasn’t Suki who answered.

Instead, a tiny older woman opened the door, wrapped in a knit shawl. Her hair was silver, her eyes kind but tired. She blinked up at him.

“Yes?”

Brian cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. “Uh- sorry, ma’am. I’m looking for Suki. I’m… a friend.”

The woman’s expression softened. “Oh, you must be Brian.”

Brian blinked. “She… told you about me?”

The older woman chuckled, coughing lightly into her sleeve. “She talks. Sit, sit. I’ll get her.”

Inside the house was warm but worn—lace curtains, family photos on the wall, the faint smell of miso soup drifting from the kitchen. Brian sat stiffly on the couch, eyes scanning the pictures: a younger Suki in a school uniform, smiling with a missing tooth; another of her holding up a trophy at some local kart race; one of her with this same woman, arms wrapped tight around each other.

Then she appeared.

Suki stepped into the room in sweats, hair in a messy bun, circles under her eyes. No makeup. No pink gloss. Just her, raw and real.

“Bullitt?” she said, surprised.

Brian stood, suddenly very aware of his height compared to her. “You disappeared,” he said simply.

Her lips pressed together. She glanced at the older woman, who gave her a knowing smile before retreating down the hall.

“I should’ve told you,” Suki murmured, folding her arms. “Gran’s been sick. I had to take care of her. Didn’t want to dump that on everyone.”

Brian studied her, the vulnerability peeking through the usual armor. “You didn’t dump anything. We just… missed you.”

Her eyes flicked to his, softening. “You missed me?”

Brian smirked faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “The garage is too quiet without you giving me hell every five minutes.”

That got a smile out of her. Small, tired, but real.

They sat on the porch, night air cool against their skin. Brian got up and leaned against the railing, Suki curled up in the chair with a blanket.

“You race for her,” he said quietly, nodding toward the house.

Suki tilted her head. “What?”

“Your gran. You do all this, the cars, money, risking your ass—because of her.”

Suki was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded. “She raised me, Bullitt. My parents… they weren’t really around. Gran worked three jobs just to keep the lights on. I race because it pays. Because it’s the one thing I’m good at. And because...” She broke off, staring into the street.

“Because it feels like freedom,” Brian finished for her.

Her eyes darted to his, surprised.

He shrugged. “I get it. The world slows down when you’re behind the wheel. It’s just you, the road, and nothing else.”

Suki exhaled, tension easing from her shoulders. “Yeah. Exactly.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other, the silence thick but not uncomfortable. Brian wanted to reach out, to tuck that loose strand of hair behind her ear, to tell her she didn’t have to carry everything alone.

But instead he said softly, “You don’t gotta do it all yourself, Suki.”

She gave him a small smile. “Careful, Brian. You’re starting to sound like you care.”

Brian’s ocean eyes held hers, steady and unflinching. “Maybe I do.”

Her breath hitched, and for once she didn’t have a comeback.

That night, when Brian finally drove home, he realized something had shifted.

He didn’t just want her fire, her teasing, or her unlimited sass. He wanted all of her—the girl who stayed up all night to care for her sick grandmother, who made the most of every scrap life handed her, and who raced not just for the thrill but for love.

And the ache in his chest told him he might already be in too deep.

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Chapter 5: Confessions in Chrome

The garage was nearly empty that night. Tej had called it early, Rome had gone off with some girl he’d been chasing for weeks, and the city outside hummed with its usual restless energy. But inside, it was just Brian and Suki.

The air was thick with motor oil and the faint crackle of the old radio. Brian leaned against the hood of his Skyline, a socket wrench dangling loosely in his hand, while Suki perched on the workbench, pink nails drumming against the metal.

It felt different tonight. No teasing, no loud distractions, no crowd. Just them.

“You ever gonna tell me why you really came to Miami?” Suki asked suddenly, her baby-face sharper in the low light.

Brian stilled. His jaw tightened, eyes flicking away. “Thought I already did.”

She tilted her head. “Nah. You told me the surface-level story. I want the real one.”

Brian exhaled slowly, setting the wrench down. His blond hair caught the dim light, haloing him in gold. For a moment, Suki thought he looked untouchable, like a fallen angel.

“You sure you wanna know?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

Brian’s eyes grew distant as he spoke.

“I was a cop. LAPD. They sent me undercover into the street racing scene. That’s how I met Dom. Dominic Toretto. He wasn’t just a racer, he was… more. A brother, almost. I was supposed to bring him in. But when the time came… I couldn’t. He trusted me, and I burned every bridge I had to keep him out of a cell.”

Suki watched him, breath caught.

“After that, I ran. Joined the FBI for a while, tried to make it right, but it was just more lies, more pretending. Every time I thought I had a fresh start, I’d screw it up. Or they’d drag me back under.” His voice dropped lower. “And then there was Mia. Dom’s sister. She was too good for me. We tried for a bit, but I couldn’t give her what she needed. Not while I was still running from who I am.”

He looked down, running a hand over his jaw. “Miami was supposed to be different. No badge. No feds. Just me, cars, and a chance to breathe. I don’t want to keep running, Suki. Not anymore. I want… I don’t know. A life. Something real.”

Her heart squeezed at the honesty in his voice.

She’d known Brian O’Connor was complicated, he carried it in the way his eyes sometimes went faraway, like he was chasing ghosts only he could see. But hearing him say it out loud… it made him human. Flawed. Vulnerable.

And God, she cared for him all the more because of it.

Everyone saw the calm, the cool, the way he slid behind a wheel with confidence. But now she saw the cracks. The guilt. The longing for something he didn’t even know how to name.

And she wondered, ‘Where do I fit into that?’.

She was Suki. Loud, reckless, sassy on the outside, but underneath—just a girl fighting to keep her gran’s world intact. Brian’s world felt so much bigger, heavier. Cops, FBI, family he couldn’t let go of. Could someone like her be enough for someone like him?

She wanted to be. God, she really wanted to be.

“Brian,” she said softly. Not Bullitt. Not teasing. Just his name.

He looked at her, and the intensity in his eyes nearly knocked the air from her chest.

“You don’t have to keep running,” she said. “Not from who you are. Not from this.” She gestured around the garage, then at herself. “We’re not perfect, but… we’re here. Tej, Rome, me. You’ve got a family right here if you want it.”

His throat bobbed, like he was holding back words too big to verbalize.

“You really think I belong here?” he asked, voice rough.

Suki smiled faintly, leaning forward until her knees brushed his leg. “Bullitt, you make it here.”

For a long moment, the silence between them was thick with everything unsaid. Brian’s gaze dropped to her lips, then flicked back up. Her heart pounded, and for a second she thought he might finally close the space between them.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached for her hand—just a simple, steady touch, warm and grounding. His thumb brushed her knuckles once, twice, before he let go.

“Thanks, Suki,” he murmured.

And though it wasn’t the kiss she secretly craved, it was enough to set her entire body buzzing.

That night, as she drove home, Suki realized something terrifying.

Her golden-haired angel wasn’t just another racer, another pretty face.

Brian O’Connor was starting to matter.

And if she wasn’t careful, she’d fall headfirst into him.

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Chapter 6: Sirens and Shadows

The week leading up to Race Wars Miami was brutal for Suki. Her car had blown a gasket, and the bubblegum pink Honda that usually turned heads at every event was stuck in Tej’s garage with its guts hanging out. She’d cursed, thrown a wrench across the floor, and sulked for an entire afternoon before finally accepting that she wouldn’t be racing.

Still, she wasn’t about to miss it. This wasn’t just another backstreet sprint—it was the event. Months of planning, crews from all over, the kind of night that cemented reputations. Suki might not be behind the wheel, but she’d damn well be there to support her team.

The abandoned docks lit up like a carnival. Cars lined the waterfront in every color imaginable, neon underglow reflecting on chrome. The bass from sound systems rattled the air, mixing with the smell of fuel and saltwater.

Brian stood near his Skyline, scanning the scene, calm as ever. Suki bumped his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t look so serious, B. You’d think you were about to walk into war.”

He smirked down at her. “Sometimes these things are war.”

She rolled her eyes, baby-face scrunching with attitude. “Please. Just go win something. Someone’s gotta keep the Miami girls swooning.”

His grin widened, blond hair messy in the humid night air. “You gonna swoon for me?”

Her laugh rang out over the music, but her heart stuttered at the way he said it.

The first few races went smoothly. The crew pulled some wins, Rome talked more trash than he earned, and the energy buzzed higher with each engine that roared.

But then came the sound that froze blood, sirens.

At first faint, then swelling into a tidal wave of noise as squad cars rounded the corner, headlights slicing through the night.

“Cops!” someone shouted, and chaos erupted.

Engines roared to life. Tires screamed. The carnival became a stampede of horsepower and panic.

Brian grabbed Suki’s wrist without thinking. “Come on!”

Her pulse spiked as he dragged her toward the Skyline. Cars swerved in every direction, metal and light colliding in confusion.

“You’re with me!” Brian yanked the passenger door open. “In!”

She didn’t argue. In seconds she was buckled in, and the Skyline screamed into the night, weaving through fleeing racers and incoming cops.

The chase was madness. Red-and-blue lights painted the rearview, closing fast. Brian’s hands gripped the wheel steady but tight, his jaw sharp in concentration.

“Hang on,” he muttered, shifting gears with surgical precision.

Suki clutched the seat, adrenaline surging. “I am hanging on, Bullitt!”

They tore through Miami’s streets, skyscrapers blurring past. A squad car tried to cut them off at an intersection, but Brian drifted hard, the Skyline sliding perfectly around the block with inches to spare.

For a moment, it felt like the world narrowed to just them, the car, the rush.

Then another cruiser lunged in from behind.

Brian cursed under his breath, downshifting, pushing the Skyline harder. The engine roared, tires screeched, and somehow, miraculously, they lost the cruiser. 

Minutes later, they pulled into the underground parking lot of Brian’s apartment building, the Skyline cooling down in the shadows. Both of them sat breathing hard, listening for the sound of sirens that never came.

Finally, Brian leaned back, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That was too close.”

Suki let out a shaky laugh. “Speak for yourself. I think I saw my life flash three times.”

He turned to look at her then, those damn blue eyes softening. “You okay?”

Her pulse tripped over itself. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

Upstairs, Brian’s studio apartment was exactly what she expected—bare, functional, with a mattress against the wall, a couch that had seen better days, and car magazines scattered on the counter.

“You should stay here tonight,” he said, shutting the blinds. “Cops might still be sweeping the area. Safer than you trying to get across town.”

She raised a brow, smirking despite her racing heart. “What, Bullitt, inviting me to stay over already? Bold move.”

He gave her a look, but his ears went faintly red. “Just being practical.”

Her gaze slid to the single bed in the room. “Practical, huh.”

“You can take the bed. I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She kicked off her shoes, sauntering toward the mattress. “We’re grown. It’s just a bed. Unless you think you can’t handle it?”

Brian’s throat worked. “I can handle it.”

Her lips curved wickedly. “Good. Then get ready to scoot over, Bullitt.”

The bed wasn’t big, not for his tall frame and her petite one. When Brian finally slid under the blanket, the mattress dipped, tilting her toward him. She could feel the heat rolling off him in the narrow space, their shoulders nearly touching.

“Comfortable?” he asked, voice low.

“Mm,” she hummed.

Suki slowly smirked into the dark. “You always this stiff, or just when you’re in bed with me?”

He exhaled slowly. “You don’t make it easy, you know that?”

She leaned closer, close enough to feel his breath against her skin. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

Her heart raced. His did too—she could hear it, feel it in the way the mattress shifted with each inhale.

They held each other’s gaze in the dim room, eyes adjusting to the dark until she could make out every line of his face. His lashes, his jaw, the curve of his mouth. She wanted to trace it all, to close the space, to taste.

Instead, she let her hand slip from the blanket to the edge of his, fingers brushing his knuckles.

Brian’s breath hitched. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he turned his palm and threaded his fingers through hers.

She smiled faintly, but her heart wouldn’t stop racing. Neither would his.

And in the small, too-warm bed, the slow burn smoldered hotter than ever.

It was nothing, just a handhold. But the warmth of it, the quiet weight of his touch, made her stomach flip.

“You always this careful?” she whispered.

His thumb brushed over her skin, lazy, gentle. “Only when it matters.”

Her throat tightened. He was so close now that she could feel his breath ghosting against her cheek, warm and steady, their noses nearly touching. It would’ve taken nothing, half a move, a tilt of her chin—for their lips to meet.

But neither of them closed that final gap.

Instead, they lay there, sharing breath in the silence, their hands tangled beneath the blanket like a secret.

And though nothing more happened, the tension hummed hotter than any kiss could have.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: No More Running

The garage smelled of rubber and gasoline, sunlight streaming in through the big bay doors. It should’ve felt like any other morning, with Rome being a complete menace while and Tej with his head buried in paperwork. Suki was perched on the hood of a half-finished project car, sketching new decal designs with a soft, secretive smile on her face.

But the air was tight. Word had spread about the busted race, and though most of the crew had slipped the cops, nobody could shake the nerves that came after a raid like that.

Brian was underneath the Skyline, wrench in hand, when the screech of tires outside pulled everyone’s attention.

Two cop cars rolled up.

The garage went quiet.

Three cops stepped inside, heavy boots echoing against concrete. The lead officer, stocky and graying at the temples, flashed his badge lazily.

“Got a few questions about that little party down at the docks,” he said, eyes scanning the room. “You all wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”

Tej leaned back in his chair, cool as ever. “Docks get plenty of parties. You’ll have to be more specific.”

The officer’s gaze slid past him, landing on Brian. His eyes narrowed. “Well, well. If it isn’t O’Connor.”

Brian stiffened. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” The cop smirked, stepping closer. “Last I checked, you were wanted in LA. Word was you flipped, worked with the Feds. And now here you are, crawling around a garage in Miami like none of it ever happened. You think you can just disappear? Guys like you never do.”

The room’s tension snapped taut.

Rome stepped forward immediately, shoulders squared. “You got somethin’ to say, say it straight. Otherwise, get the hell outta our space.”

The cop ignored him, eyes locked on Brian. “You bring heat wherever you go, O’Connor. You’re a walking mess. Don’t drag these people down with you.”

Brian’s jaw clenched. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Because the bastard wasn’t wrong, not completely. Everywhere he went, trouble followed. Dom. Mia. The FBI. Even here.

His voice came out low. “You don’t got a warrant. You don’t got a case. So unless you’re here for an oil change…”

The officer smirked, but Tej cut in before things went further.

“That’s enough,” Tej said firmly, standing now. “You don’t walk in here and start throwing names around. You want information, get it somewhere else. This is my shop, and unless you’re paying for service, you’re trespassing.”

The weight in his voice was enough. The officer stared a beat longer, then jerked his chin at his partners. “Watch yourself, O’Connor. You won’t always have friends covering for you.”

And then they were gone, doors closing with a slam that left the crew in thick silence.

Brian leaned against the Skyline, rag twisting in his hands, his chest tight.

He barely noticed when Rome clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Don’t listen to that crap. You ain’t trouble. You’re family.”

Tej nodded, crossing his arms. “Man’s just bitter he couldn’t pin you. We don’t care about what you were, we care about who you are now.”

Suki slid off the hood of the car, stepping closer. “Bullitt,” she said softly, drawing his gaze. Her eyes were steady, warm, grounding. “You don’t bring us down. You lift us up. You’re the reason most of us feel safe on the road.”

He swallowed hard, words stuck in his throat.

Rome, of course, broke the tension with a grin. “Besides, if you left, who’s gonna stop me from being the prettiest one in the garage?”

A laugh broke out, shaky but real, the heaviness easing.

Brian dropped his head into his hands for a moment, breathing deep. The guilt, the doubt, it was always there, lingering like a shadow. But hearing them… it cut through.

For the first time since LA, since Dom, since running, he felt something anchor him.

He wasn’t just hiding in Miami.

He belonged here.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes found Suki’s. She gave him the smallest nod, like she knew exactly what he needed in that moment.

Without a word, she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around his waist. Brian froze, startled, before letting out a slow breath and folding her against his chest. She was small against him, her blonde hair brushing his jaw, but her hold was steady, grounding.

“You’re not alone anymore, Brian,” she murmured, so only he could hear.

His throat tightened, but he pressed his cheek to her hair, letting the weight in his chest ease just a little.

And for the first time in a long time, Brian let himself believe it.

He wasn’t running anymore.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Shattered Glass

This was supposed to be a small meet—just local racers, nothing major, after the cops had busted Race Wars Miami. A chance to show face, ease tension, and maybe win back some money lost. Tej was posted near the line, clipboard in hand, already organizing heats. Rome leaned against his Eclipse, tossing out jokes that got more groans than laughs.

Brian stood beside his Skyline, arms folded, scanning the crowd. His gut had been tight all night, though he couldn’t put a name to the unease.

Then he saw him.

Marco.

Leaning cockily against a bright red RX-7, grin slick as oil, eyes locked straight on Brian.

The crowd seemed to notice too, a ripple of tension spreading through the lot. Marco pushed off the car and strolled forward, swagger in every step.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Miami’s golden boy,” Marco drawled, voice carrying. “O’Connor. Thought you’d be halfway to Cuba by now after the cops sniffed out your little playhouse.”

Tej straightened. “What the hell you talkin’ about?”

Marco smirked wider, savoring every second. “Who do you think dropped that little dime on your garage, huh? Cops don’t just magically show up in your backyard. That was all me.”

The words landed like a punch.

Brian’s jaw clenched, his fists curling tight at his sides.

“You son of a—” Rome started, but Brian stepped forward, cutting him off. His blue eyes burned cold. “You got a real short memory, Marco. You already got dropped once.”

Marco laughed, tossing his hands out. “Yeah, you got your little shot in, O’Conner. But see… I don’t go down easy. You humiliated me. In front of everybody. So now I’m takin’ something back.” His eyes slid deliberately to Suki, standing near her pink S2000. “Maybe I’ll take her.”

Suki’s lips curled in disgust. “Dream on, asshole.”

Marco’s smile sharpened. “Then race me. Prove you’re more than just spray paint and attitude.”

The crowd murmured, sensing the bait.

Brian stepped forward again, but Suki’s hand shot out, pressing against his chest. Her touch was firm and grounding. “No, Bullitt. This one’s mine.”

Brian’s eyes locked on hers, storming with protest. “Suki—”

She shook her head, defiant fire sparking in her gaze. “He wants me? Fine. Let’s end it where it counts, on the street.”

The crowd roared approval, already hungry for blood and spectacle.

Marco grinned, victory flashing in his teeth. “You’re on, angel. Hope you like looking at my taillights.”

Engines roared into the night, headlights cutting through the dark. The crowd swelled at the edges of the street, phones up, voices chanting, hungry for a show.

Brian’s pulse thrummed in his throat. He stood behind the Skyline, fists clenched so tight his knuckles whitened. Every rev from Marco’s RX-7, every pop of Suki’s S2000, set his nerves tighter.

This wasn’t just a race. It felt like a setup.

Tej’s arm dropped. Tires shrieked, rubber burning the tarmac. Both cars launched forward, neck and neck, down the stretch of road. Neon pink against blood-red, sparks in the dark.

Brian couldn’t breathe.

He watched every second like it was happening in slow motion, the way Marco edged closer, the way Suki’s jaw set stubbornly as she held her line, refusing to give an inch.

“Come on, brat,” Rome muttered at his side. “Smoke him.”

Halfway down the strip, Marco swerved deliberately, nudging her rear bumper. Once. Twice.

Brian’s gut dropped. “No—”

On the third clip, her S2000 spun. Tires screeched as the car fishtailed wildly, smashing into the barrier. The world turned upside down in a flash of sparks and shattered glass. The S2000 flipped once, twice, landing hard on its roof with a sickening crunch.

The crowd erupted into chaos.

Brian was already running.

“SUUUUKI!”

His feet pounded the pavement, Rome shouting behind him, Tej calling for people to move. But Brian heard nothing, just the blood in his ears, the roar of his own fear.

He reached the wreck, heart in his throat. Smoke curled from the crumpled hood, glass scattered across the pavement. He dropped to his knees, peering inside.

Suki hung upside down, hair loose, blood streaking her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed but alive.

“Brian…” Her voice was small and shaky.

Relief punched through his chest so hard it hurt. “I got you, baby. I got you.”

He yanked at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Swearing, he braced himself and ripped, metal groaning until it gave way. Crawling in, he unbuckled her harness, catching her as she dropped into his arms.

Her small body trembled against him, her breath hitching. Scratches marked her arms, a thin line of blood trailed from her temple, but she was conscious. Alive.

Brian pressed his forehead to hers for half a second, voice ragged. “You scared the hell outta me.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, though her voice shook. “Just… shaken.”

“The hell you are fine.” His grip tightened, as if letting go meant losing her. “You’re going to the hospital.”

She shook her head weakly. “No. No hospitals… my car…”

“Forget the damn car,” he snapped, harsher than he meant. His chest heaved, panic and fury tangling.

Rome and Tej rushed up, Jimmy not far behind.

“We’ll handle the car,” Tej said firmly, already signaling for a tow. “You take her.”

Brian looked at them, jaw set, then back at Suki, trembling in his arms. He couldn’t walk away. Not now. Not ever.

Marco’s laughter rang out from down the street, cruel and victorious.

Brian’s head snapped up, fury blazing. For a split second, he wanted nothing more than to tear Marco apart with his bare hands.

But then Suki whimpered softly, burying her face in his chest.

And Brian made his choice.

He scooped her up, cradling her as if she were breakable. “I’m taking you home,” he murmured against her hair. “My home. Where I can keep you safe.”

Behind him, Rome’s voice thundered. “Don’t worry, bro. We’ll handle Marco.”

Brian didn’t look back. He just held Suki tighter and carried her away from the wreckage, the sound of engines and vengeance rumbling in the night behind him.

Chapter Text

The Skyline’s engine purred low, a steady rumble against the silence. Brian gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white, eyes locked on the road ahead. Every few seconds, though, they flicked sideways—to the passenger seat where Suki sat curled, arms wrapped around herself.

Her hair was mussed, glass still glittering faintly in the blonde strands. Scratches marred the smooth line of her cheek, tiny crimson streaks standing out against pale skin. But it wasn’t the blood that twisted Brian’s insides—it was the way she stared out the window, wide-eyed and trembling, as if she were still spinning on that tarmac.

“You good?” His voice came low, rough with leftover panic.

She nodded, though it was too quick, too forced. “Yeah. Just… can’t believe he did that.”

Brian’s jaw flexed. “I can. That bastard wanted to hurt you.” His hand left the wheel long enough to brush her thigh, a grounding touch. “But I’m not letting him touch you again. Not ever.”

The words were a promise, hot and sharp. She finally looked at him, her lashes wet, mouth parting as though she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. She just let the silence settle again, broken only by the hum of the Skyline as it carried them through the city.

By the time they pulled into Brian’s building’s garage, her hands had stopped shaking. Maybe because of the ride. Maybe because of him.

Brian’s apartment was quiet as they walked in, smelling faintly of motor oil and soap. 

“Sit,” he said firmly, guiding her toward the bed. She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her a look that allowed no room to argue. She sank onto the edge of the mattress, watching him dig in a cabinet for a battered first aid kit.

When he knelt in front of her, the air changed.

“Let me see,” he murmured, brushing back her hair to reveal the scrape along her temple. The touch was gentle, reverent. His thumb lingered, tracing the edge of her skin as though he could take the sting for himself.

She shivered. “You don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.” His eyes locked on hers, blue and unflinching. “You scared the hell outta me, Suki. When that car flipped… I thought I lost you.” His voice cracked just slightly, and she felt it like a knife to the chest.

Her breath caught. No one had ever looked at her like that before, like she was the most precious thing on the planet.

He dabbed antiseptic on the cut, apologizing softly when she hissed, his free hand steadying hers. His touch lingered too long, his closeness dizzying.

“You don’t always have to take care of me,” she whispered, half-teasing, half-aching.

His lips quirked, but his eyes burned serious. “Yeah, I do. Because I can’t… I can’t not. Not with you.”

The words hung between them, heavy and electric.

Her heart thudded, and before she could stop herself, she reached for his hand. Her fingers slipped between his, small and warm, grounding him as much as he’d grounded her.

“Brian…” she breathed, his name a confession on her tongue.

He leaned closer, so close their foreheads nearly touched, breath mingling in the dim room. His eyes searched hers—asking, waiting, holding back with all the restraint of a man who’d been running his whole life.

And for the first time, she realized, he wasn’t running anymore. He was right here. With her.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “With you.”

Brian stilled, then his hand turned beneath hers, their fingers threading together. Slowly, deliberately, he raised her knuckles to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand. The warmth of his lips burned her skin, a brand she knew she’d never shake.

He should have pulled away. He didn’t.

Instead, his other hand drifted up her thigh, a feather-light touch over her jeans that had her pulse jumping. He watched her reaction, his gaze hot but questioning, teasing, daring her to stop him.

Suki didn’t.

“Bullitt…” she breathed, half a plea, half a challenge.

That was all it took. His mouth found hers, soft at first, almost reverent. But the moment she sighed into him, lips parting, he deepened the kiss, slow, hungry, savoring every second. His tongue swept across hers, teasing, tasting, coaxing out little moans that he swallowed greedily.

Brian broke away just long enough to murmur against her lips, voice rough, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Suki grinned breathlessly, tugging at his shirt. “Then stop holding back.”

But Brian didn't want to rush. Not this.

He pushed her gently onto her back, following her down, bracing himself on his elbows. His lips trailed away from hers, down her neck, slow kisses and nips along the delicate line of her throat. His hands roamed her sides, slipping beneath her shirt to stroke bare skin, thumbs circling her ribs in lazy, deliberate patterns that had her arching into him.

Suki whimpered. “Brian…”

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against her skin. “Patience, baby girl. I’m gonna make you feel good. Gonna take my time.”

And he did. He stripped her clothes away piece by piece, each removal punctuated by another kiss, another stroke of his hands. By the time she lay bare beneath him, she was trembling, her breath coming fast.

Brian sat back for a moment, eyes devouring her. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Heat flooded her cheeks, but before she could reply, his mouth was on her again—kissing, licking, teasing down her chest, her stomach, lower. His hands held her thighs open as his tongue slid over her, slow and devastating.

Suki gasped, fingers tangling in his hair. “B-Brian…”

He hummed against her, sending vibrations through her core, his pace unhurried and relentless. He licked, sucked, and teased, pulling her apart one ragged breath at a time. Every time she trembled on the edge, he pulled back just enough, forcing her higher, desperate.

“You taste so sweet,” he groaned, licking his lips before diving back in. “Could do this all night.”

She writhed beneath him, babbling pleas and curses, his name spilling from her lips. When she finally broke, shattering in his arms, he held her down and rode out every wave, drinking in her cries.

But Brian wasn’t done.

He came back up, kissing her hard, letting her taste herself on his lips. She moaned into his mouth, dazed and needy.

“Still with me?” he asked, voice gravelly.

“God, yes,” she panted, dragging him down.

Only then did he finally free himself from his jeans, the sight of him making her breath hitch. He pressed against her, teasing, rubbing just enough to make her whimper.

“You sure?” he asked, holding himself back even now, his forehead pressed to hers.

Suki’s nails dug into his shoulders. “Brian, if you don’t fuck me right now—”

Her threat broke into a cry as he slid into her, slow, deep, and deliberate. He cursed under his breath, eyes squeezing shut at the feel of her.

“Jesus, Suki…”

They moved together, a rhythm born of months of tension, unspoken confessions, and stolen glances. Brian kept it slow and deep, savoring every thrust, every gasp, and every way she clung to him. He kissed her through it, murmured filthy praise against her lips, teased her until she was begging, then gave her exactly what she needed.

When release finally came for both of them, it was overwhelming, hot, consuming, and perfect. He held her tight, forehead to forehead, breathing her in like she was oxygen.

For the first time in years, Brian didn’t feel like he was running.

Chapter Text

Sunlight spilled through the blinds, warm and golden, casting stripes across tangled sheets and bare skin.

Brian stirred first, blinking against the brightness. For a long moment, he just lay there, watching her. Suki’s lashes fanned against her cheeks, lips parted softly in sleep, her face relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen before. Peaceful. Safe.

Something in his chest ached at the sight.

He reached out, brushing a stray lock of pale hair from her face. She stirred, eyes fluttering open, and a slow smile curved her lips.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured, voice husky with sleep.

He chuckled quietly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. “Morning, baby girl.”

Her small hand slid up his chest, tracing lazy circles over his skin. “You didn’t sleep much,” she said softly.

“Didn’t wanna,” he admitted, kissing her again, this time on her lips. Slow, tender. “Didn’t wanna waste a second of this. Of you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she giggled quietly, tugging him closer until their noses brushed. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you.” His voice was low, reverent, as if confessing a secret.

Their kisses deepened, unhurried but full of warmth. Brian’s hands roamed her body slowly, not with hunger this time, but with devotion. Every touch was deliberate, a promise written into her skin. They made love in the soft morning light, slower than the night before, lingering in every sigh, every gasp, and every whispered word of affection.

When they finally stilled, bodies pressed together, Brian cradled her face in his hands. His thumb brushed over the faint scrape on her temple, his heart squeezing all over again.

“I meant what I said last night,” he murmured. “You scared the hell outta me. I can’t lose you, Suki. I won’t. I’ll take care of you and your gran. You don’t ever have to worry about anything ever again. You’re not alone. I’ll protect you, always.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she smiled through them, cupping his cheek with her small hand. “And I meant what I said, too, Brian. You don’t always have to be strong for everyone. You don’t always have to keep running, pretending you’re fine when you’re not. I see you. All of you. And you belong with me. You’re home with me.”

The words broke something in him, something he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. His throat tightened, but he didn’t look away.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words tumbling out like a truth long overdue.

Suki’s eyes widened, then softened, brimming with emotion. “I love you too, Bullitt.”

He kissed her again, tender and desperate, sealing the vow.

Later, hand in hand, they walked into Tej’s garage. The crew looked up in unison, and the sight of their joined hands drew immediate grins.

“Well, well,” Rome drawled, smirking widely. “Look who finally pulled his head outta his ass.”

Tej laughed. “’Bout damn time.”

Suki rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. Brian just shook his head, squeezing her hand tighter.

Then Jimmy leaned forward, voice low but proud. “By the way… you don’t gotta worry about Marco no more. Me, Tej, Rome, and a couple boys from the scene, took care of it. Let’s just say he won’t be racing again anytime soon. Not in Miami. Not anywhere.”

Brian’s brows lifted. “You serious?”

Tej nodded. “Dead serious. What he did ain’t tolerated. He crossed a line, and we made sure everyone knows it. No trail leads back here. You and Suki are clean.”

For a moment, Brian was speechless. His gaze swept over the crew. Rome’s smug grin, Tej’s cool nod, Jimmy’s quiet determination, and even Suki glowing at his side.

Family.

That was what this was.

His voice came out rough, thick with gratitude. “You guys… I don’t even know what to say. I spent so long thinking I didn’t belong anywhere. That I couldn’t stop running. But you…” His eyes flicked to Suki, then back to the others. “You gave me something I never thought I’d have again. A home. A family. I should’ve seen it sooner, but I was too damn stubborn. Not anymore.”

He drew Suki closer, their fingers interlacing. “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you. Not without any of you. I’m here. I’m home.”

Rome clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “’Bout damn time you figured it out, bro.”

Tej smirked. “Yeah. Welcome home, Brian.”

Suki leaned into him, whispering just for him, “See? Told you. You’re where you belong.”

Brian pressed a kiss to her hair, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

No more running.

No more hiding.

He was home.