─ POINT BLANK.

➜ location: the team hotel ➜ @shcrpshooter

Kiraz had no problems making the schedule Enzo's publicist sent over work. Really, it was almost embarrassing how married to her job she truly was, and she'd hated the fact that she couldn't push back against a single 'required' event. Truthfully, there were more on there than she'd expected, and a lot of the ones that surprised her the most were charity events. Enzo had never been one to brag about his social calendar, not that Kiraz would've listened, so she had no idea he was such a philanthropist. It was one of many things she was learning about him, even though this fake relationship was just starting off. They'd been leaving the hotel together more often than not and she'd gone out of her way at the paddock to make sure people believed the story— checking in with him before she went to grab her lunch or bringing him a water any time his looked close to empty. She still had a job to do, of course, but her job required a lot less of her when Enzo's seemed to require more. After all, if she did her job right, then he'd have no troubles in the car. But if Kiraz built him nothing more than a shitbox on wheels, even if the engineers designed it with good intentions, then Enzo's life would get much harder once he got behind the wheel.

She heard the knock at the hotel door and moved quickly to open it, holding it open with one hand while she barely managed a greeting. "I'm almost ready, you can wait inside" she explained, stepping quickly back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. They'd agreed it would look better if they entered the lobby together, because who knew what sort of spying eyes would be watching. News had broken of Enzo's relationship, of course, and people were starting to talk both online and in the paddocks.

If he looked around her hotel room, he wouldn't find much to write home about: Kiraz Karga was as meticulous in her private spaces as she was in the garage. Every time she settled into a new hotel room during the season, she put things right in order— everything had its place. It made packing and unpacking much easier when you spent nine months of the year traveling the globe. She reached up to finish applying her mascara, grateful for an excuse to avoid Enzo's gaze when she spoke again. "I've never attended one of these fundraisers before," she said softly, "so if I'm underdressed, let me know. I can always change, I brought options." She finished applying her makeup and looked herself over in the mirror once more, smoothing her hands over the bright red dress she'd brought for this event. Apparently it was a fundraiser to fund scholarships for kids in karting, something Kiraz hadn't even known existed until Enzo's publicist gave her the rundown.

Even though she spent most of her life in a garage, Kiraz did clean up really well, and she made it a point to look her best outside of work. She thought the dress was fine, but she wanted to make sure Enzo approved. After all, she was a grease monkey at heart. Kiraz gestured toward the heels resting on the floor next to the bed that she'd set aside for the dress: a pair of black Louboutins she borrowed from her roommate in Istanbul when she'd stopped there last week between races. "Those should help jazz it up a bit. I thought the Ferrari red was a nice touch, no?" She couldn't quite pinpoint why she was so nervous, but she was still trying to make an effort. It wouldn't look good for her to be a complete bitch to her supposed boyfriend, even if nobody was around just yet to witness it.

A flicker of a smile creased the corners of his eyes as she opened the door, ushering him in with the sort of greeting that was perhaps the antithesis of one between lovers– and that made it all the more amusing to him. At least here, they didn’t have to pretend. He stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind him. “Take your time,” he murmured, dark eyes darting around the hotel room while she finished up. It was exactly like he’d expected– neat, minimalistic, sharp to a militaristic degree. He smiled more fully then– both because he’d been right in his assumption of how she traveled and because she couldn’t see him grinning from where she was in the bathroom. He filed it away– something else to note about the woman who was supposed to be his girlfriend. 

Catching her words, Enzo chuckled softly and cleared his throat, “Trust me, despite being all about money, they’re the least pretentious events we’ll have to go to.” On the surface, fundraisers didn’t appear that way, but the truth of it all was somewhat different. Most people were gathered there in good faith, raising money for something that mattered. They hardly cared what anyone looked like. No, he hadn’t seen her outfit yet, but Enzo would argue that Kiraz could go dressed in a burlap sack and she’d still be the most beautiful woman in the room– but he’d never admit that, largely because he doubted she’d believe it if it came from him. 

When she did emerge, Enzo swallowed thickly, momentarily at a loss for words as his dark eyes drank her in, studying her from head to toe. “Wow,” he managed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You look beautiful.” He followed her line of sight then, eyeing the heels in question. Wordlessly, he made his way over to them and crouched down, “Excellent touch,” he agreed with a laugh– and then the idea struck him. “Come here,” he prompted, taking one of the Louboutins in his hands, hoping that alone would make his intent known. If anything, he was armed with the excuse that if they were going to convince anyone that they were a couple, then she’d have to get used to random acts of kindness, or daresay chivalry, and her expressions would have to match– meaning, she couldn’t glower at him like he assumed she was at his attempt to put her heels on for her. “We have to sell this,” he reminded her, tipping a glance up at her, a smirk forming on his lips, “so you can’t scowl at me when I do something nice in public– practice makes perfect, right?” He was teasing, mostly. He didn’t doubt Kiraz’s ability to play her part. But most of all, he was just using it as an excuse to get close to her– to learn more about what made her tick. 

He sobered slightly though, shifting gears to the very real nature of the agreement they’d settled on, “You sure about this?” Enzo asked, giving her one last chance to back out of all of it before it became the hard launch that the F1 community would salivate over for months to come. The speculation had already been planted, but this event would confirm all of it. Was she really alright with tethering herself to him in that way? “Because once we step out like this at a fundraiser, it’s a lot harder to backtrack. I just need to know that you’re sure.” And if she wasn’t? She’d walk away unscathed, no questions asked. Fuck the team’s plan.

➜ location: şerefe ➜ date: february 16, 2026 ➜ @shcrpshooter

Mickey's birthday had fallen on President's Day before, and she wasn't going to complain about having the day off to celebrate it. After all, she wanted to nothing more than spend the day in bed with Aslan, only leaving if absolutely necessary. The start to the day looked exactly like that, but he'd had to come to the bar a couple hours ago for something. She'd offered to tag along, but he'd suggested she meet him there later so they could make a date of it. As jealous as she tended to be, Mickey didn't think anything of Aslan's suggestion— after all, it wasn't like he'd flat out told her not to come, or that he didn't want her there. She'd hit Azra up to see if she wanted to tag along to an impromptu nail appointment, figuring she might as well make the most of her day off to treat herself— not that she needed an excuse.

She'd pulled into the parking lot and was wrapping up the call from her parents as she climbed out of her car, eyes immediately landing on Aslan standing in front of the bar. Naturally, she'd told him she was on her way, so being met at the door wasn't anything that tipped her off to what he had planned. She thanked her parents for calling once more, finally ending the call and sliding her phone into the bag hanging off one shoulder. Picking up her pace, Mickey threw her arms around Aslan's neck as soon as she was within reach. "It should be illegal for your boyfriend to have to do work stuff on your birthday, you know," she teased, pulling back from the hug to look at him. Taking in Aslan's face, Mickey was still in awe that he was all hers, and she stole a quick kiss before settling back onto the heels she was wearing.

"Has it been busy tonight?" She hadn't dressed with helping Aslan in mind, of course, not with the strappy black dress and heels she'd donned, but she could do her best to avoid being a distraction if it meant his night wouldn't be too busy.

But instead, everything had gone off without a hitch. He’d decorated, he’d prepped food and drinks. He’d invited everyone he could think of– friends, family, her squad, and other co-workers– and led them all to the bar’s basement floor, the red, dim lit speakeasy portion that was sometimes rented out for parties on nights when there wasn’t a live music showcase. They were all waiting there while he went back upstairs and outside, knowing she was due to arrive at any time now. Spotting the familiar red Porsche pull in, Aslan grinned, and had to keep himself from excitedly shifting his weight between his feet while he waited for her to approach.

His breath hitched in the back of his throat when he saw her– a black dress and heels were the quickest way to get to him, and he knew that she knew that. But tonight wasn’t about him, and he could hardly wait to show her what was waiting downstairs. Wrapping his arms around her frame, he tipped his face into the crook of her neck, savoring the closeness just for a moment before easing back and catching her quick kiss. “You could say that, yeah,” he nodded, his smile taking on a mischievous tilt. “You look beautiful, by the way,” he added, pausing and holding up a hand. “–and don’t say I know.” Aslan was only teasing, of course, and reminding her of her response the first time he’d dared to call her beautiful.  

“C’mon,” he motioned, slipping his fingers through hers and leading her inside the bar. It was empty– something he hoped wouldn’t tip her off right away. But he’d closed the bar for the night, determined to have the focus solely on her and actually be there to enjoy it with her, rather than serving customers. “Gotta check on something downstairs– real boring work shit,” he continued, guiding them into the elevator. Pressing the appropriate button, he tugged her into his arms, “I love you,” he started, though it sounded more like a friendly warning more than a declaration, “Just remember that.” 

And then the doors opened, and the whole room erupted with one, singular word–

SURPRISE.

It was funny, in its own unique sort of way, that Mickey was so ready to hear Aslan say any number of words that men before him had dropped on her in moments just like this: crazy, insane, jealous, psychotic, messy, and more. Funny, really, because Mickey Maddox knew Aslan wasn't like any other man she'd dated, or any other man she'd met. She knew he was different, and due to her best efforts to prepare herself for the worst, she'd managed to look past that fact. She saw his face shift from one of concern to frustration, but she didn't miss the patience that was there, too.

Are you done?

It only took three words for Aslan to remind her of the man he was, and Mickey felt like all her emotions had been flicked off with the flipping of a light switch. He wasn't angry, he wasn't yelling, and he certainly wasn't accusing her of being crazy. If anything, Aslan stopped Mickey in her tracks. She was ready to continue, had a whole laundry list of accusations ready to toss at him— was it that she wasn't wearing something hot enough to keep his attention tonight? was he bored with her? did he actually prefer blondes and only just now realize it?— but instead, Mickey found herself leaning back an inch, lifting her eyebrows with the slightest hint of surprise.

In her sudden state of awareness, Mickey realized Aslan wasn't close enough. She blamed herself, of course, because she'd thrown out an attack without giving him a chance to break her defenses down at all. Reaching a hand out, she took a slow, steadying breath as she slipped it into his. "I'm done, at least for now," she said with a sure voice, nodding once. She wasn't mad, not in this moment, but she knew Aslan's explanation had better be a good one or she was going to go right back to it. Her thumb moved back and forth over the back of Aslan's hand, conveying an apology she wasn't ready to say out loud just yet. Instead, she used her energy to brace herself for a story she might not be excited to hear, especially if it confirmed her suspicions of Aslan having slept with that woman before. "So who is she?"

“No one you need to worry about,” he assured her, dropping his hand back down to his side then. He figured that was as good a place as any to start, because it was the simplest, most important part of it all. “But for transparency’s sake…I’m assuming you want to know if I’ve ever slept with her,” he continued, feeling quite sure that was what Mickey really wanted to know about. Again, he saw no point in beating around the bush or delaying the inevitable. “Yes,” Aslan supplied before falling quiet and giving her a moment to digest it. It hadn’t meant anything to him, but something told him it’d mean something to Mickey.

“Not long after I moved back here, only happened a couple of times,” he explained, shrugging a shoulder and showcasing his indifference towards it. There’d been nothing to it then, and there was nothing to it now. “You’ll be happy to know that she’s very much into girls now,” Aslan continued, chuckling softly. But even if the woman hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have changed anything from his standpoint. “We’re still friends, catch up maybe every couple of months here and there, but that’s it.” In his view, there was nothing more to it, and he felt sure the other woman had the same opinion. In fact, he’d shocked the shit out of her in telling her he was actually seeing someone now. “You good with that?”

She could tell Aslan meant what he said about not returning the favor, and Mickey had to admit that it was not only surprising, but impressive as hell. She caught his jaw before he could pull too far back from kissing her, guiding him back into a deeper kiss to show just how impressed she was. Speaking softly, Mickey nudged her nose against his, "Well, you certainly managed to do that." She couldn't help but smile, a hint of pride in her eyes, knowing that he was just as happy with how the night had gone as she was. She'd had a feeling he was enjoying it, of course, but reassurance was never a bad thing when it came to checking someone's boxes in bed. She was just about to tell him they should do it again very soon when he mentioned the time.

Following Aslan's lead, Mickey managed to peel herself from the bed after a few stolen glances in his direction. He was too much a work of art not to appreciate, of course, and she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to take it in. "Oh yeah?" She tugged an oversized t-shirt over her head before moving to pick up Aslan's remaining clothes. "Well, I guess there's hope for your closet yet." As soon as she heard his question, Mickey's face broke into a giant smile. She held out the pants and boxers that had been discarded, reminding herself that she couldn't distract him from getting ready to leave. "Well, I have dinner plans with some friends tomorrow, but I was hoping I could swing by the bar after. If you're not going to be too busy, I mean, I don't want to be a distraction." She offered up an innocent glance in his direction as she moved toward him, closing the gap as her hands moved over Aslan's chest. "Maybe you can even grab a drink with me?"

Quietly, he watched her as she followed him out of bed and threw on an oversized t-shirt– a move that somehow made her even sexier than he already found her. Biting back a smile, Aslan worked at a couple of the buttons on his shirt, careful not to let his gaze linger for too long. At her comment about his closet, he snorted a soft laugh, “There’s a small chance,” he supplied with a wink, glancing down at the rest of the clothes she’d gathered for him. He made quick work of stepping back into his boxers and pants, and settling into them, preferring to busy his hands with her than the garments, especially when she closed the space between them.  “Mickey, if you’re anywhere near me, I think distraction is an absolute certainty,” he cautioned with a smile before curving his arms around her waist, “Good thing I own the place.” It was dangerous, the way he could feel himself hanging off of every word she said and leaning into the hope of seeing her as early as tomorrow. Was it foolish of him? Probably, and yet he didn’t back away from it, or from her. “I’d like that a lot,” Aslan murmured, leaning down to catch her lips in a kiss, one he’d meant to keep to a brief peck, but soon allowed it to flare into something more. With his hands bunching in her shirt, and his tongue already invading her mouth again, he had to force himself back and broke away on a breathless laugh, “Alright, c’mon, killer,” he teased, giving her ass a squeeze before nodding back towards the door, “Walk me out before I keep you up any later.”