Prosenna ABO | Prosenna/Berlesi/Mika Hakkinen | Test
The brief silence inside the TF1 studio was a sharp contrast to what was happening outside, to the roar of the crowd in the grandstands. Not just cheers and boos, but also the sound of powerful engines as the cars flew past the spectators at full speed.
Alain was focused on the broadcast monitors in front of him, his eyes constantly searching for the blue-and-white Williams, car number 2. The coffee in front of him had long been forgotten, his attention split between commenting on key moments of the race and tracking that blue-and-white car.
âIt looks like Senna is going to try another move at that corner,â the lead commentator said. âSchumacher hasnât made it easy for him over the last twelve laps. Will he manage it this time? What do you think, Alain?â
âItâs a tough move. Schumacher is defending really well, and Senna will only get through if he forces a mistake. But itâs risky, especially with the tires already worn.â
He paused briefly, watching the two cars run wheel to wheel on the screen.
âAfter twelve laps like this, the tires arenât in great shape anymore. Any more aggressive move could compromise the exit of the next corner. Thatâs where the race can be decided.â
He straightened up in his chair, his eyes never leaving the screen showing the two cars racing side by side.
Just a little more. Come onâŚ
Alain tried not to let his anxiety show, this race was insane. They were already halfway through the championship and the battle between Ayrton and Michael was intense. The two had been trading first and second place all season. They werenât messing around.
He knew exactly how important this year was for Ayrton. The Brazilian wanted desperately to win his fourth world championship, to finally feel fully satisfied. He hadnât stopped saying âThis is my year! Eu sei que eu vou ganhar!â during the last break, always reminding Alain that he was going to bring another world trophy home. And Alain believed himâhe always did.
But none of that kept the pit in his stomach from tightening every time Schumacherâs car got close to his husbandâs. The young German was giving him a hard time, but Alain knew exactly the kind of challenge Ayrton lovedâthe one that pushed him to go faster, to push the car harder, to finally reach his goal: being first in everything.
Once again, the two drivers were putting on a show, this time at Hockenheim. Positions were swapping constantly, neither of them willing to fall behind. Only six laps to go.
âI canât believe it!â The lead commentator jumped out of his chair, microphone in hand, eyes glued to one of the screens. âSenna is catching up again, and this time it looks like heâs going to make it!â
Alain crossed his fingers under the table, his eyes never leaving the cars. In a quiet voice, he muttered a small prayer. Since 1994, he had developed the habit whenever he felt anxious during a race, whenever his husband was in the spotlight. It helped him stay calm and made him feel like he was bringing luck. At least, thatâs how he liked to think of it.
Then, suddenly, in a risky but perfectly executed move, the blue-and-white car overtook the red one, and the crowd went wild. Ayrton had passed Michael and was now chasing yet another victory in the championship.
The clock was ticking down the final laps, and everyoneâs heart was racing.
âFive laps to go, and Senna is in the lead!â The commentator practically jumped out of his seat with excitement. âHeâs keeping the car steady on the track, pushing through every corner perfectly. Schumacher tries to respond, but he just canât match the Brazilianâs pace!â
During the fourth and third laps, Alain began to notice the gap between the two drivers widening considerably. As always, Ayrton was giving everything he had to finish this race in first place.
âFinal lap! Heâs on the home straight and the crowd is going wild! Senna is controlling the car masterfully,â the commentatorâs voice grew louder with every new image on the screen showing Ayrton nearing the finish line. âAnd here he comes! Heâs crossing the finish line! Itâs a victory for Ayrton Senna! Another unforgettable triumph in the championship!â
The roar from the stands was deafening. People were jumping, shouting and waving Brazilian flags, all cheering for another achievement by the Williams driver. The excitement turned the circuit into a celebration once again, with fans constantly edging closer to the track, yelling his name and watching him fly by.
Alain put his hands over his mouth and took a deep breath. He was over the moon, thrilled, and above all, moved. He wasnât usually like this, but in that moment, it was impossible to hold back the few tears threatening to fall, his hand unconsciously resting over his pregnant belly.
âIt was a tough and sensational race, simply phenomenal. Weâre now watching the Williams car pull into the pits, Ayrton has just completed his final lap, waving to his thousands of fans. What a moment of happiness, my frien-â The commentator stopped mid-sentence. âAnd it looks like one of our reporters is ready over there to speak with todayâs big winner. Go ahead, Paul!â
Alain, who had already taken off his headphones and was ready to get up and leave, grabbed them back to listen to the quick post-race interview.
âSo, Ayrton?â The reporterâs voice echoed through the headphones in the booth. âHow are you feeling after this victory? After adding a few more points to your lead in the championship?â
âIâm very happy, thatâs all I can say,â Ayrton let out a tired laugh. Alain loved hearing that laugh. âIt was a really intense race, really tough⌠but in the end, everything worked out. I waited for the right moment, managed the tires, and when the opportunity came, I made the pass.â
Alain let out a small laugh. A year ago, during some tests in the car, Ayrton had been a pain, constantly asking for tips on how to better manage the tires and get the most out of them. Alain had gotten annoyed at times because his husband was so rough on the car and never seemed to learn, but over the past few months, he had improvedâand now, well, it seemed he had finally learned. Above all, Alain felt proud.
Then the reporterâs voice came back.
âSince I can see youâre all excited and happy, how about sending a message to someone special?â
âThatâs easy. Iâd like to send a message to the love of my life, the most perfect omega in the world, and heâs my husband.â
Alain started to blush when he noticed the other staff looking at him. He just put one hand over his face, already bracing himself for whatever Ayrton was going to do this time.
âI dedicate this victory to the little omega I know whoâs the most beautiful in the world, and I know heâs listening to me right now. Alain, I love you so much. Please, letâs get out of here soon. I want to get home and celebrate just with you.â
Alainâs face was practically turning tomato-red. Both of his hands were now covering his face as he listened to whistles and a bunch of âawwsâ from his coworkers sitting nearby, teasing him.
But Ayrton wasnât done.
âAnd donât forget to tell our little princess that her dad just won another race and that her mom is so proud. And donât blush there, I know you are. I love you, today and always.â
The moment the radio cut out, the entire studio erupted in applause, whistles and laughter. Some made jokes, others nudged Alain, who of course blushed even more while trying to hide a smile behind his hands.
âAh, stop it,â he murmured in French, though his happiness was obvious.
Finally, he stood up, adjusted his shirt and grabbed his things. He said goodbye to the team and left the room, ready to celebrate another victory of his alpha.
There was champagne everywhere on the podium. People cheered and shouted as the drivers sprayed champagne on each other and the crowd, ecstatic after receiving their trophies.
Ayrton was excited, genuinely happy, but his social battery was starting to run low. He just wanted to get out of there and go home, to relax with his little family. He couldnât wait for it all to be over.
After the post-race press interviews wrapped up, he quickly got up to head back to the motorhome, desperate for a shower and to change into something more comfortable. He was definitely not in the same party mood as Michael or Damon, who were still celebrating with the others. He just wanted to go home with Alain.
And it was the moment his hand was already on the doorknob that he noticed someone approaching out of the corner of his eye. When he turned, he smiled. Alain was walking toward him with a small smile, holding his coat draped over his arms.
Ayrton would never stop admiring Alainâand why would he? His omega was gorgeous, and Ayrton had always loved every part of him. And now, with that four-month baby bump, he was even more stunning.
âMm, what a nice surprise,â Ayrton said with a smile, pulling Alain closer and pressing a kiss to his hair. âI thought youâd only be able to come later. No interviews to do?â
âAh, thank God they didnât make me do any today. You know Iâm terrible at interviewing people.â
âDonât say that,â Ayrton kissed his hair while hugging him. âYou know I love it when they have you interview me before and after some races.â
Alain smiled, resting his face against Ayrtonâs chest. âOf course I know. You always like saying silly and embarrassing things just to make me blush in front of everyone.â
âStop pretending you donât like it, I know you, Alain,â Ayrton raised one hand, the one with a thin, expensive ring on his finger. âDonât forget it.â
Alain looked and let out a small laugh. He didnât have much to say about that, Ayrton was right⌠he really did know him well now. It was even kind of strange to think that just a few years ago, he had no idea what was going on in the Brazilianâs crazy head, and now he knew this goofball from head to toe.
Okay, sometimes Ayrton still managed to surprise him. Sometimes.
Ayrton stepped back just a little and placed his hands on Alainâs belly. His smile grew wider, a smile so tender and affectionate.
âCome on, I know you heard me on that one.â
Alain laughed and placed his hands over Ayrtonâs, looking down at the bump too.
âShe already knew her dad was going to win, sheâs really happy. She moved a bit while I was talking about your last laps.â
Ayrton gave a big smile and didnât say anything else, just kissed Alain gently.
When he stepped back, he looked around.
âAyrton, we found you!â
Gerhard and Jean were walking toward them, Gerhardâs arm thrown over the shoulders of the omega who was both his teammate and his boyfriend.
âMan, when are you going to stop being so mushy, huh?â Gerhard nudged his friend with his elbow. âThere you go again, saying all this cheesy stuff to poor Alain.â
âAh, shut up,â Ayrton replied, rolling his eyes playfully. âAt least Iâm way more romantic than you, am I wrong? What do you think, Jean?â
âWellâŚâ Jean made a funny face and decided not to say anything else. But it was clear he agreed.
âHey!â Gerhard crossed his arms. âI am romantic, okay? I just donât say cheesy stuff like Ayrton. Thatâs something he apparently does every time.â
âAh, come on,â Ayrton said, laughing. He took Alainâs hand. âYouâre the dramatic one, thatâs for sure.â
Everyone laughed, and Gerhard was about to reply when they heard footsteps coming toward them. A small group of journalists and photographers were approaching, curious and expecting the winner to give them a little attention like the other two winning drivers had.
âAh, damn itâŚâ Ayrton huffed.
The group approached, congratulating Ayrton and greeting Alain, also trying to chat with him. Alain felt Ayrton tugging him by the arm, guiding him a little behind him to keep him out of the way of all those nosy idiots. Alain let himself be led, smiling. He knew Ayrton always got more protective when he was pregnant. He did it the first time, and now he was doing it again.
Gerhard and Jean just laughed at the whole scene, leaning against the motorhome and watching the circus unfold around the former biggest rivals in the sport.
One of the photographers, standing a bit further back from the group, was trying to get some angles while others were attempting to interview Ayrton and Alain. But then he felt something bumping against his legs, and when he looked down, he saw it was a child.
âHey there, little guy. Are you lost?â he asked, noticing the boy trying desperately to peek between the adultsâ legs to see what was happening on the other side. âWhere are your parents? You canât be wandering around here, buddy.â
But the boy didnât even look at him, completely focused on trying to see what was going on. He moved from side to side, his little face showing nervousness, clearly agitated.
âHey, what-â the photographer barely had time to continue before the boy suddenly rushed into the middle of the adults, trying to get past them and reach the two famous people.
The photographer gently grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back, already looking around to find whoever was responsible for the restless child. The kid tried again and again to push through the adults, but when he realized the photographer wasnât letting go, he let out a small cry while still trying to wriggle free.
âWhoa, whoa, calm down,â the photographer tried to get his attention while pulling him back. âEasy there, youâre going to hurt yourself.â
But then the boyâs cries grew louder, catching the attention of everyone nearby. They all turned to see what was happening. Ayrton and Alain looked too.
âMika!â Ayrton called out, until he saw the boyâs arm being held and his little face. Ayrton frowned and looked seriously at the photographer. âWhat did you do?â
The photographer quickly composed himself and let go of the boyâs arm, stammering as he tried to defend himselfâsaying he hadnât held him tight, that the boy was probably lost. But he barely had time to form a sentence before he froze, seeing the boy running straight into Ayrton, who was crouched down with open arms, waiting for him.
The boy threw himself into Ayrtonâs arms. Ayrton scooped him up and started smothering his little cheeks with kisses, more kisses, and even some nuzzles on both sides of the boyâs tiny neck.
Supporting the boy with one arm, he lifted his other hand and began signing to him. Simple signs, but enough for the little boy to understand.
âWhatâs wrong, my love? Did he hurt you?â
Mika shook his head slightly, still looking up at his dad.
âYou escaped the nanny again, didnât you? You know youâre not supposed to. Mommy already told you to stay right there with her.â
Mikaâs only response was to throw himself back into Ayrton and hug his neck, resting his head on his shoulder. Alain moved to the other side of Ayrton, running his hands through Mikaâs soft hair and planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Gerhard was the one who stepped back toward the group and started ushering everyone out, one by one, saying that interview time was over. The crowd slowly dispersed, but some of them left with a piece of information they hadnât known all this time.
Ayrton Senna and Alain Prostâs son was deaf.
