AlteredCarbon

It had started with some harmless teasing, jokes and laughter between their friend group. The usual, like they had done so many times before.

He remembered sitting on top of a table, some empty food container next to him. They had been at Pecco’s motorhome, late at night, celebrating Pecco’s first win of the season.

There was a conversation flowing. Teasing. He heard how Migno made joke about their world champion. They all knew it were just words, no heat and no harm intended.

Looking back he couldn’t remember who made the joke to start it all. Probably Andrea.

“Congrats to Pecco! First time this year Marquez is not fucking him.” Pecco had chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah trust me. Not the first time I’m fucking him” he had said.

There was a silence. All of them staring at him, trying to understand what had just been said. They patched the words together, knowing grins forming.

Luca and Franky exchanged a glance. Cele blinking in confusion.

“Francesco Bagnaia, are you fucking Marc Marquez?” Franky asked, his voice playful. A grin dancing around Luca’s face as well. They were clearly enjoying the chaos of that statement.

The thought that their mentors golden boy – the one that bought two championships back to Italy – was screwing Marc fucking Marquez, his own teammate, was drama gold to them.

Bez on the other hand, felt like he was witnessing a car crash.

He felt like he had been carved into, his inside taken out, thrown away, replacing with a deep emptiness.

“How do they say?” Pecco asked, a confident smile, accompanied by a suggestive wink “A gentleman enjoys in silent” “Oh you little fucker!” Cele laughed.  

Bez felt like he was hit over the head and kicked in the stomach. He stood there. Frozen. Unable to react. Unable to say anything. He just stared at Pecco.

He wanted to call him names. Call him a whore. An asshole. A stupid cunt. He wanted to yell and curse, throw something in his face.

He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. He was trying to make up an excuse, process what he had just heard. He was telling himself it was just a stupid lie. A joke. He would reveal it any second now…

But he didn’t.

And with every second, more doubts kept creeping in Bez’s heart. and Marc had been dating for almost a year. He had thought they were good. Stable. But apparently, he had misinterpreted things.

From then on, the comments started. They all started with the academy, their usual teasing and jokes. Some questions. The Aprilia rider just watched over weeks, trying to find the prove that Pecco was lying.

He knew he should have talked to Marc immediately. But he was scared of the answer. He didn’t want to be seen as insecure or clingy. Or have it confirmed as the truth.

Instead, he watched Pecco shrugging when asked if he’d tell Vale. The gesture to easy to be fake. It all seem to come too natural.

“No. It’s just sex. It’s not like I plan to bring him to the ranch” “Good. Cause I don’t want to explain some doctor why someone’s dick was cut off” Luca said deadpan.

“Do you think Vale would cut off Pecco’s or Marquez’s?” Cele continued. “Both. Probably”

It was a weird feeling. Bez watched it all, listened, never fully joining in. He listened to all the jokes and he felt a weird sense of jealousy. Weren’t those jokes supposed to be about him? Him and Marc? Not Pecco.

Slowly he pulled back, claiming it was just because he was overthinking. When asked he would just shrug and reply with “work” which had become their code for confidential bike information.

In reality, he sometimes just couldn’t stand looking at his best friend and he knew the academy would figure it out soon if he was avoiding him, so he needed to work it out for himself first.

He had tried to ignore it. It didn’t work.

He had tried to believe it was all fake, just a lie but he couldn’t. Not when Pecco mentioned the mole Marc had on his ass. There was no way he could have seen it when Marc was wearing pants, which meant…

Pecco was telling the truth.

Marco even tried to be ok with it. He tried to accept it. He tried to think about it like an open relationship. It worked for others, so why not for him?

He tried to see it as a win that Marc was at least still coming back to him. He was still choosing him. He hadn’t lost him. Yet.

He knew he shouldn't think like that of course, but he couldn’t help it.

He knew that he was being cheated on. He knew he should confront Marc, telling him that he knew. He wanted to work it out. Somehow. But his heart told him that it would be impossible. He couldn’t stand the thought.

And then with Pecco of all people.

Pecco didn't even know about the relationship.

After all, he had never told anybody about dating the Spaniard. He had been too afraid of what his friends might say. They were his family after all. And he couldn't stand the thought of losing them.

He hadn’t ready to be made to choose. He was afraid of who he would end up choosing.

So he had never said anything. He thought Marc had understood. He had said he did.

But now, it felt like Mark was using that insecurity and use it against him. As if he was trying to prove that other people in Bezs circle didn't seem to think about him the way Marco feared they would think about him.

The more he thought about it, the more he was hurt.

He loved his boyfriend. Maybe a little bit too much. Because a part of him wanted to accept and move on.

A part of him wanted to pretend that he didn't know, as if he had never overheard all those countless comments that kept pressing into his chest like small daggers.

He feared that once he did confront Marc, he would lose him. That Marc would have to choose between Pecco and Bez, and the younger Italian knew that he wouldn't be the one to be chosen.

He was never the one to be chosen.

After all, he was just some weird curly headed over childish and overactive guy. He had barely won a handful of races. He had never won the championship. Pecco had. More than one.

He was calmer. More polite. More the son-in-law any parents would wish for their child. More perfect in any way. So why would anybody choose him?

The thought broke his heart.

But it also kept him from facing reality. The longer he could put away their conversation, the longer he could pretend that he didn't know. The longer he could keep Mark.

And Marc was his everything. He had everything of Bez.

Marc hold his hand. Marc hold his heart, his soul. Marc hold his body. His whole being felt like it was owned by Marc and Marc alone.

Yet he had given it to him willingly and he had no way to get it back.

A part of him didn't want it back either. He still wanted to belong to the older man without any conditions. Even without the condition of being treated with respect and being loyal and being loved.

So he laid in his bed, his eyes closed, trying not to cry as Rubik did his best to offer silent comfort. He was just trying to get through the night.

He knew that Marc was currently in Florence, ahead of the Italian GP.

He and Pecco were doing some promo, some pr stuff. They would spend the day and night in Florence. It was a haunting thought.

“Little bit of team bonding” Marc had said with a smile. He had spend the days prior at Bezs place. He had winked at him. “Gotta get along with your best friend, right?”

Marco had just nodded, wondering if he actually meant that they would have sex.

He looked at the clock, letting it get later and later. He get a few texts from Marc. A bunch of picture showing off the beautiful art displayed. And Marc.

Normally Bez eyes would probably fall out his skull at the sight of his half naked boyfriend. But now he just felt empty. In his head he saw Pecco touching all that and he started to feel sick.

He knew that Marc would sleep in the same hotel as Peeco. And the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to cry.

He knew that they would end up sleeping on the same floor. Maybe in the same room. In the same bed.

He tortured his own mind with the thought that they were currently laying next to each other. Possibly naked. Hands running over each other’s body. The same way he and Marc had done that same morning.

Possibly doing things that he didn't want to imagine.

A sadistic part wanted to hurt himself a little more. He heard his thoughts questioning if Marc was just as soft with Pecco as he was with him. Or rougher? Would Marc enjoy that more? Or was he softer?

Would he put his hand on Pecco’s cheek as they laid there, facing each other. Would he smile. Compliment him, like he did with Bez?

The Italian put his hands over his eyes. He wanted to stop thinking but instead his mind ran ahead. He thought about all the stupid jokes the academy might make once those picture were released.

Marc and Pecco in suits. Walking together through some of the finest art of human history. As if they were actual lovers heading for their wedding.

Would they – Marc and Pecco – joke about it themselves? Would Pecco pull on Marc’s eyes, stare at him with hungry eyes. Marc would enjoy that, wouldn’t he?

Would there be a hint of domestic? Would  Marc fix Pecco’s tie afterwards while Pecco apologized for destroying his hair? Kiss?

He knew that it was only a question of time when someone would make a stupid joke, a comment and Pecco would confirm Marcos fear. He would confirm that they had sex and the carousel in his head would start all over again.

There was no way out.

And a part of him was a peace with that knowledge. Because soon Marc would be back at his own side, making him forget the previous days.

And then he would share the bed with Marco. Not Pecco. The younger Italian would feel like he had won. They would have sex.

But it was no longer any consolation. He swallowed hard as he realized that the jealousy had gotten stronger.  

Bez was trying not to imagine that the naked, sweaty body above his boyfriend who was probably currently fucking into him was who he had considered to be his best friend. He shook his head, refusing to think of what the man was probably doing to him right now.

Instead he tried to focus on the future, once Marc was back at his side. But he couldn’t. He started to feel sick. To think that his boyfriend was getting fucked by someone else and would return to fuck him like nothing happened.

He hated the thought. He wanted to take a shower, a hot one. Hot enough to make his skin turn red. He wanted to burn the imprints of Marc’s hand off his body. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so dirty again.

Slowly he realized what it all meant. He started to see the line.

He had tried to push all those thoughts back. But the more he kept pushing them down, the more dominant they became in his head.

At first he had tried to believe it had all been just a stupid joke. He had been more clingy to Marc. But every time he asked “I'm the only one, right?” Even if it wasn't a playful voice and he would get insecure.

And then he had started to pull back. He refused to give a real answer. After all, he felt like he still hadn't made-up his mind what he would do during or after the conversation.

He knew he would not blame Pecco. He hadn't told Pecco about their relationship. So he had no way of knowing.

He closed his eyes but all he felt was tears as he realized he couldn’t go on like that. He couldn’t keep going. He would have to confront him, one way or another. He hold onto Rubik, silently crying into his fur.

He decided to wait for after the race. He needed to focus on Mugello first.

He hadn’t expected that things could get even worst. They were at Franky’s motorhome when Pecco got a message and had to leave early.

He had winked saying he needed to take care of something at Ducati. “Something or someone?” Franky had teased. “Eeeh… I mean… He did win. Maybe a reward is appropriate”

Marco didn’t even want to know what that meant. He rolled his eyes and decided to try one last time. He pulled out his phone. He send a quick message.

“Hey, can I come over? Now? wanna celebrate with you”

“Sorry” he got a reply. “Gotta deal with something :( how about later tonight?”

Something. Marco turned his phone over in his hand. That something was Pecco. He knew it now. He bit his lip, realizing that he had reached the end of the line. The small amount of doubt had left him. His hope was gone.

“Sure” he replied. “I’ll be there”

And he knew what would happen.

He felt strangely calm. He knew he was about to confront, get his confirmation and break up with his boyfriend.

He felt tears rise to his eyes. Everything in him screamed to not do it, but he had to. He couldn’t continue like that. For once he had to do something for his own sake.

Everything seemed to lead them to this moment a few hours later.

Marc was sitting on the couch, when Bez entered the motorhome. He could smell sweat. His mind added that it might be from sex. But the Italian refused to think more about it. It didn’t matter anymore.

“Hey my love!” Marc yelled and was already up when Bez entered. The Italian looked up, his empty eyes making the older pause. He was about to ask about it, when he opened his mouth to say the words that took Marc’s breath away.

“I know that you’re sleeping with Pecco” He said it quickly. Like a bandage to ripp off. And then it was there. Out in the open.

Marc eyes had shot up. His eyes widening in shock, staring at the younger. The “NO!” already leaving his mouth. But the way his boyfriend looked at him, it felt like it wasn’t even a question.

Marco couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to somehow dodge his eyes. “It- It’s okay. I’ve – I’ve known since… Austin.”

He didn’t want to lie anymore. No more pretending. No more protecting.

“I – And I wanted to be okay with it. I really did try. I thought – like – I thought if we had an open relationship –“ he felt like his own words were choaking him. “- it might not be so bad. It works for others. They are happy. But I can’t. I tried. Okay?”

He felt like he was so desperately trying to cling on something already gone. He didn’t want to go down this road, break up but he had to. He tried to justify it to himself, prove himself that he had tried everything.

“I tried really really hard because I didn’t want to lose you. I love you so god damn much that I thought… I thought I could suck it up for you.. but I can’t – I can’t fucking can’t continue like this. I… I- I’m sorry”

“Marco, corazon.” Marc said softly. The younger watched how he raised his hand, knowing he was trying to touch his cheeks. Immediately he step back to avoid any type of physical contact. He couldn’t stand the thought.

Not when he knew that those hands had just an hour before caressed Pecco with probably the same amount of love and care.

The care and love he just showed him hurt like a twisted knife. He wanted to accept it, lean in, enjoy it. But it would just end up hurting even more.

Still, he felt guilty watching the other’s face fall. Marc knew that physical touch meant everything to the other. It calmed him. So he realized how bad this situation really was.

“I love you. I did not sleep with Pecco. I never slept with Pecco and I will never sleep with Pecco” he said, his voice having an edge of panic. “I didn’t cheat on you. I swear! You can go through my phone! You know my code! You can-“

Marco just shook his head. He didn’t want to go through his phone. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to see whatever he might or might not find.

“I don’t need to go through your phone and… Please just stop lying. Okay? I – I know about you and Pecco so hell, stop embarrassing yourself by denying it.” He insisted.

He had expected that Marc would just admit it. He hadn’t expected this. Somehow this hurt even more.

The lies continued and he felt even more like he was being played with. As if he could just lie to his face and he’d believe him.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “Marco, I am not cheating on you. Please! Please, please, please, I am begging you – I am honest to god begging you to think about what you’re saying about me. Because I didn’t!”

Marco shook his head. His boyfriends words were so loud. He was thinking them over. He wanted to apologize, believe him. But he couldn’t. Pecco’s voice was still in his head. He still felt the pain the thought created.

He still felt empty, betrayed and dirty.

“Tell me where you got this from so I can get it out your head again.” Marc requested, his voice too soft for Marco.

“I… I want to believe you. I really do” he whispered. His voice breaking. “You can, baby, you can, I am telling the truth. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’ve lied before and… Pecco said…” “Pecco said what?” Marc asked. He felt so lost and helpless, he didn’t know what to do but he knew he couldn’t give up now.

“That you two have been hooking up. And I… I want to believe you so bad but… Pecco knows about the mole on your ass so-“ “He could have seen me change” he interrupted, his brain trying to come up with a possible moment.

But the sadness in the Italians eyes was evident that he didn’t believe him. “Please just stop lying. And tell me the truth” Marc wanted to scream. “I do! Why – Why won’t you just believe me?”

“I’ve known Pecco since we were kids. He’s not someone who would lie about hook ups. He never did so… I really don’t know who to believe” he tried to explain.

Marc blinked in confusion. The younger watched his face change. He suddenly looked unsure and hurt himself. “You believe him over me?”

He sounded hurt, more than Bez had ever heard it. His voice was filled with disbelief, confusion. Slowly he shrugged. “I wish I wouldn’t but… I trust him.” He confirmed.

“You trust him more than me” he repeated, sounding accusing. Something about this shift rubbed the rider the wrong way. “You would trust Alex more too if he told you he had hook up with me”

Now it was on Marc to scoff. “That’s different.” “How?” “Alex is my brother.” “And?” “Pecco isn’t your brother.”

”And?!” he shot back, his voice suddenly angry. “The academy is my family. We may not have the same blood but I’ve known him since I was an awkward teenager or kid even and we’ve stuck together ever since. I trust them with my life!”

“Maybe that’s a mistake” “The fuck did you just say?!”

Marc didn’t dare to repeat it. He was angry and sad. Frustrated. But that didn’t mean he was entitled to talk like that.

“I am just saying… Bagnaia lied to you. I don’t know why but he did. I didn’t cheat on you. I swear. Tell me how I can prove it to you… Please. Please” Marco wanted to take the out. He wanted to reach for Marc and make it all end.

But he couldn’t. He knew he’d be anxious every time Marc wasn’t with him, during every Ducati PR or testing duty. Every time. He couldn’t deal with that. He refused to. It wasn’t fair for him or Marc.

“How are you supposed to do that?” “I don’t know but I can’t lose you. Please, I love you too much. Please… I love you, Marco. I will do anything for you” he tried to make a step towards him. He needed to somehow bridge the gap between them.

But his boyfriend backed away. “I wish I could believe you” he said and it broke his heart. “You can” “I can’t. Pecco said-“

“You said you wouldn’t get your opinion about me influenced by the academy anymore” he whispered, tears threatening to fall. “You said – you said – no more lies to be believed. I believed you.”

Bez just laughed out loud. It sounded empty and hurt.

It felt like a bad joke that his words from the start of their relationship was now thrown back at him like that.

“And you promised you’d love me” “I do.” “And then you go out there and fuck my best friend?” “I didn’t!” he said firmly, anger and fear creating an indescribable tone.

“I don’t believe you”