#5514

It’s like having a lost little puppy begging for you to take them home, following you around and insisting upon your greatness. Carlos says it all the time, that he can’t believe he gets to have his hero as a friend and a competitor, always gushes to Fernando about how great he is and how he hopes to have a championship title like he does. Fernando is aware that the last thing he should be doing is indulging Carlos in his very obvious infatuation.

Fernando can pinpoint exactly when the lines started to blur between them. Things started to shift in Germany, when Toro Rosso happened to be in the same hotel as McLaren and Carlos found his way to Fernando’s room during almost all their free time. Fernando was good; he didn’t try to touch or coerce or any of the other things his colleagues would warn him not to do, just listened to Carlos talk and talk about whatever, watched his expressions and excitement as he spoke. He realized after that, that he liked spending time with Carlos, despite how obvious his crush was.

Maybe it was their drunken kiss in Monaco, initiated by Carlos at some random house party. Fernando hadn’t fought it at all, hadn’t tried to push Carlos away or insist he was no good for him. In his intoxicated state, it actually felt nice, Carlos eagerly shoving his tongue into his mouth and not pulling away even for a second. He can still remember the ‘talk’ Lewis and Sebastian had with him the day after. They scolded him for being a perv and implored him not to start any morally dubious relationships with rookies. Fernando knows it would do him some good to heed their warnings, but he was never one to follow the rules, not exactly.

Everything changes at Monza. He wasn’t even sure how Carlos had snuck into the McLaren garage, undetected, only an hour before lights out. Carlos pushed him into his driver room and pressed him up against the door and kissed him without a word, hungry and hot and wet, no elegance to it. Fernando had grabbed onto Carlos’s shoulders and pulled away immediately, but Carlos begged for Fernando to kiss him again, to have his way with him if he wanted. Fernando felt something inside of him twist and turn, changing the most fundamental parts of him, his desire at the forefront now, unshielded by his reservations.

Fernando didn’t fuck him then, he knew it’d be impossible for Carlos to drive afterward. But, he did kiss him back finally and flip them around so it was Carlos pressed against the door. He did in fact push his knee between Carlos’s legs and let him hump his thigh desperately, and he did enjoy watching every minute of Carlos fully giving in to the pleasure. The image of Carlos’s hips stuttering against him as he came in his fireproofs was something Fernando would always hold close to his heart. Fernando’s favorite part was watching Carlos continue to rut down onto Fernando’s thigh until his whole body shook, his legs weak, even after he came, babbling about how he didn’t want it to end.

It’s in Japan, a couple races later, when Carlos gives him no choice but to give in, fully.

Carlos invites himself to Fernando’s hotel and the older man has to say yes. He doesn’t even intend to do anything with him but whine about their days and maybe watch a movie or two, but Carlos has other plans.

“Can we talk, Nando?”

The question comes suddenly and without warning, not even a few minutes since they’d entered the room. Fernando was sitting on the edge of his bed while Carlos was standing before him, blocking his view of the TV he’d been trying to watch. Fernando’s hands turn clammy, not sure whether he should be worried or not about what Carlos wants to say.

“Yeah, of course,” Fernando says sincerely and pats the spot beside him, watching Carlos with furrowed brows as he sat down. He can’t help but notice how distraught he looks, how his eyes almost glisten with emotion.

“I know we’re not together, I shouldn’t even care about this, but-“ Carlos starts, a bit sad and frantic with his words. “Max told me you took him out to lunch a few days ago. You didn’t even tell me,” Carlos huffs, wincing as if he’d actually been cheated on. “I-I just feel like.. I wanted you to just be happy with me. Max is great, I know, and maybe he’s a better driver than me and he’s cuter than me, but I don’t think it’s fair that-“

Fernando had to stop him, he couldn’t let Carlos continue to think that anyone else was as special to him as he was. The older man did it by pressing a soft kiss to his mouth, and he didn’t pull away until he could feel Carlos relax. The realization that Carlos’s feelings were bigger than both of them didn’t make him want to run or hide— the fact had nestled itself in the back of his mind, always there and present and sometimes scary, but it had prepared him sufficiently for Carlos to go and spill his guts to him.

Fernando pulls away and is silent for a few more seconds. “You’re jealous, Chili?” Fernando says endearingly, reaching up to cup the side of Carlos’s unkempt, stubbly face, watching the way it made him short circuit, just one simple touch.

“Well, yeah, because..” Carlos tried to explain, still stuck on the kiss he’d just received, trailing off. Fernando had never made the first move before. “I don’t even know how you feel about me, but I like you so much,” he murmured. “Even if you think I’m just some stupid rookie.”

Fernando didn’t know it went this deep, Carlos’s devotion. He had never considered himself someone who was easy to love or someone who gave out his love to just anyone. Hearing Carlos be open and honest was new to him, yet welcome. It was a breath of fresh hair, having him be so hopeless about their relationship.

“It was just lunch,” Fernando answered Carlos’s initial concern, raising a brow at the younger boy and dropping his hand to his lap, intertwining his fingers with his. “You don’t have to fight anyone for my attention. I promise.”

Carlos truly felt like crying, like the weight on his shoulders had been lifted. “Why don’t you touch me, then?” Carlos sighed. It was much more blunt than he’d normally ever be, but it was something that had been heavy on his mind for quite some time. Fernando was so confusing in that regard, being reluctant to touch him but readily saying he was only seeing Carlos.

Fernando knew that was bound to be one of his talking points, letting out a laugh at how absurd it sounded. “The other drivers watch us, you know that, right?” Fernando countered, still gently holding Carlos’s hand in his own. “When you look at me for too long, when I talk to you instead of them, when you spend all your free time with me. They see that. And they think I’m a pervert,” Fernando smirked.

“You’ve been called worse,” Carlos noted, which got him yet another hearty laugh from Fernando.

“I know. But you’re so young. I don’t want to ruin your chances to explore. I don’t want to tie you down,” Fernando says, serious and quiet.

Carlos feels that familiar, searing frustration start to bubble inside him. Maybe Fernando had a point; Carlos was too young to be deciding that he was in love and that he only wanted one person, but Carlos wasn’t concerned about possibly making a ‘mistake’. What he had with Fernando was not a mistake, he’d never see them that way.

Instead of fighting Fernando further on the issue, Carlos leaned back in and kissed him again, climbing into his lap so he’d finally understand how serious he was about only being his. Carlos pulled away to look down at Fernando, just to stare at the beautiful face he’d fallen so hard for. “When we were together, at Monza, I don’t think you realize how happy you made me. I would’ve skipped the race if you wanted me to,” Carlos admitted.

Fernando isn’t surprised by Carlos’s shameless allegiance to him, hands roaming up and under the younger man’s shirt, feeling his warm skin. “Is that when you figured out that you liked me a lot?” He teased, tone soft. Fernando could read between the lines; it wasn’t a confession of love, more like a restatement of the truth, that Carlos had eyes for him and only him.

Carlos’s face flushed a deep red, nodding wordlessly and kissing him again, selfishly licking into his mouth so he could taste him, the mint of his toothpaste and the lingering taste of his favorite tea, tasting like perfection.

Fernando had Carlos pinned down onto his bed in minutes, making quick work of getting their clothes off so he could finally take what was his. He’d only gotten a taste of how Carlos got when he felt good, the distant memories of suppressed moans and gasps from Monza swirling in his brain. “Que bonito,” Fernando purred as he tugged down Carlos’s boxers, the young driver already half-hard, thick cock bobbing as it sprung out. “Perfecto,” Fernando hummed, his lips gravitating to his neck, licking and biting and speaking sweet nothings into his skin.

Carlos couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was finally going all the way with Fernando. The older man meant everything to him, he was everything he wanted to grow into, he was all that it took to make him feel loved and happy and content. Carlos feels too exposed as Fernando undressed him, but he ignores his anxiety, instead spreads his knees and invites him in, silently begging to be taken. “Tócame,” he breathed, gasping when Fernando complied and wrapped a hand around him, using his precome to make the slide easier.

Fernando only has his boxers on as he starts taking Carlos apart, the slow twist of his wrist making him squirm and keen under him, as if he’d never been touched before. In many ways, he feels the same way about Carlos. He couldn’t see himself wanting to do any of this stuff with anyone else, he simply didn’t do this with anyone else. He just hoped he wasn’t some phase for Carlos, that the reason he wanted him wasn’t his glory, his titles.

Fernando strokes him a few more times before he scooted down the bed, comfortably positioned between Carlos’s tanned thighs. He wasted no time leaning in and taking the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking and lapping at it, being messy about it. He knew he made the right choice to start this way when Carlos squeezed his thighs around his head, one hand tugging at his hair firmly, the other fisting the sheets beneath them.

Carlos didn’t want to admit such an embarrassing thing about himself, but he was so sensitive, it didn’t take much for him to come, especially when this was the only person he’d wanted for several months now. It was too much and not enough, making him crazy yet silencing all his woes at the same time. “Fernando,” he moaned, not daring to look down at him. He knew that one look at the older man and he’d be spilling all over himself. “Please, please.”

Fernando knew Carlos was particularly sensitive. He gathered that from making Carlos come with just his thigh and his kisses. What he was more interested in was how many times he could make him come, how many would it take to have Carlos a blubbering mess beneath him. Fernando supposed that was the good thing about being older, the fact that he had more experience.

“Relax, papi,” Fernando said after pulling off, licking careful, fat stripes up and down his length. “I’ll take care of you,” he assured, pressing a trail of kiss to his hip, then down the inside of his thigh, slipping his tongue down between Carlos’s cheeks to swipe over his entrance, making sure to stroke him with his free hand.

That seemed to do the trick, Carlos relaxing and tensing all at once, letting out a contented squeak. His legs spread even wider and his hips chased the feeling of Fernando eating him out. He’d never had someone do that to him before, and it was quickly becoming his new favorite thing. Fernando’s tongue felt impossibly hot against him, soft and wet, his hole fluttering wildly, clenching around nothing and waiting impatiently to be filled. Fernando’s rough, calloused hands felt like heaven on his cock, slick from his own spit. When Carlos got the courage to look down between his thighs, he was done for—Fernando was looking up at him as he licked him, pretty brown eyes glistening in the dimness of the hotel room. Carlos could almost see the way his jaw moved, not shy about opening him up with just his tongue. Carlos couldn’t even warn Fernando as he came all over himself, thick ropes of come shooting onto his happy trail and all over Fernando’s fist, which was milking him through his orgasm.

Fernando felt blessed to be able to see Carlos in action, making him feel so good that he couldn’t last more than a couple of minutes. “Good boy,” he praised as he emerged from between his thighs, moving his hand in agonizingly slow strokes and leaning down to lap up the mess he’d made. Fernando made sure to lick him clean, letting go of his cock in favor of leaning up and kissing him harshly, wanting Carlos to taste himself.

Carlos mewled into the kiss, dizzy at the taste of his come on Fernando’s tongue. He was still feeling hazy as he felt Fernando’s hands grip his thighs right behind his knees, pushing his legs forward and spreading him apart even more. Carlos could feel his cock stirring back to life just at his lover calling him good, praising him for doing nothing but enjoy himself. “Need you, please,” he pleaded, trying not to come yet again at the sight of Fernando spitting in his hand, stroking his own cock to get himself lubed up. Everything about the older man made Carlos’s heart race, even the simplest habits and details.

“What if I break you?” Fernando asked teasingly, rubbing the head of his cock over Carlos’s waiting entrance, twitching against him.

“Ruin me,” Carlos insisted, letting his head rest back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation.

That was all the confirmation Fernando needed, slowly pushing forward and slipping into Carlos’s soft heat. He was tight, so tight that Fernando briefly wondered if he’d ever done this before. He was easily distracted by the way Carlos seemed to suck him in, like he’d die if he didn’t bottom out soon. Fernando struggled to keep his breath even, nails digging into the younger boy’s skin.

Carlos was inconsolable, letting out sweet cries at how perfect he felt, completely stretched and full. “Nando,” he groaned. “Big, really big,” he babbled, locking eyes with Fernando again, prompting another kiss between them. “Do it, fuck me,” he purred, forehead pressed against Fernando’s.

Fernando knew he couldn’t be so careless, he had to start with a little more eloquence. “Like this?” He asked and drew his hips back, starting up a steady, down-tempo rhythm, making sure Carlos could feel every inch.

Carlos nearly went cross-eyed at the sheer amount of pleasure he felt just from the glide of his cock in and out of him, never mind the absolutely intoxicating feeling of Fernando rubbing his sweet spot, his legs shaking in his hands. “God-“ he whined, arching up into him and going to cover his face with his hands, knowing what was about to happen. His own lack of self-control on display once more. He knew he must’ve been red and hot to the touch, too embarrassed to let Fernando see him like this.

Fernando was wholeheartedly taken by how shy Carlos still was, even while he was balls deep inside of him. It was endearing, something Fernando admired about his favorite little rookie. “Do it,” Fernando murmured, mimicking Carlos’s earlier words, encouraging him to let go and not feel bad about it. “For me, mi tesoro.”

Carlos came between them with a whimper, moving his hands to grip Fernando’s shoulders, exhaling breathy, broken moans into his ear as he wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down, needing the close contact.

Fernando didn’t mind the mess between them as he buried his nose in Carlos’s neck, breathing in the heady, musky scent of his cologne mixing with his sweat, thrusting faster and harder into his boy. It felt more intimate than Fernando had ever expected, the two of them wordlessly moving together, graceful, like they were meant to fit exactly like this, only soft noises and breaths between them. He let go of Carlos’s legs and felt him wrap them around his waist, no space left between them. Fernando rutted into Carlos with a sense of urgency, chasing the euphoric feeling of being squeezed like a vice. Their skin slapped together rhythmically, filling the room and joining the symphony of their moans. Usually, Fernando didn’t struggle to last, but it was difficult to keep his cool when Carlos was all olive skin, long lashes, saccharine moans that turned breathy as his pace increased, the perfect storm for a timely demise.

Fernando came with a low groan against Carlos’s neck, filling him up to the brim with his seed. He could feel the way Carlos squeezed around him when he came, his legs getting tighter around him. Fernando loved that Carlos was desperate to keep it all inside.

Carlos couldn’t bear to let go just yet, barely through the afterglow and needing Fernando to stay stuck against him, just like he had been to the older man through their whole relationship. “No more dates with my teammates. Or yours. Or anyone,” Carlos said, feigning seriousness, but still heaving for his breath.

Fernando mustered up a weak chuckle and kissed anywhere he could reach, his shoulders and collarbones, until Carlos’s grip had loosened up enough for him to press another one to his lips. “Okay, mi amor,” Fernando agreed easily. “But, I might have to take Max out again if I get to have you like this.”

Carlos relaxed into the bed, staring up at Fernando with wonder and adoration in his eyes, one hand mindlessly playing with the hair at the nape of the older man’s neck. “I already told him to stay away from you,” he admitted, looking coy, like he knew that it was maybe a bit much to say such a thing to someone who had no intention of stealing his idol from him.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, Carlito,” Fernando tisked and looked down between them, placing a tender hand on Carlos’s hip and pulling out, his cock mostly soft now, eyes watching intently how his come dripped out of him.

“You love it,” Carlos laughed, looking even more beautiful than before, limbs splayed out on the bed and sticky with his own fast-drying come.