hold it down, dare

George Russell/Oscar Piastri/Mark Webber

5.8k words, Explicit

Tags: Jealousy, Sexual Tension, Guilt, Making Out, Under-Negotiated, Infidelity (Sort Of)

He thinks about truth or dare about four years ago. Stupid game, both of them drunk enough to be reckless. Oscar still doesn't know how he got Mark to agree. Doesn’t know why he still remembers. Oscar had asked which driver Mark would want to fuck, expecting—naively, pathetically—that Mark would say you. They'd been circling each other for months by then, tension building in hotel rooms and hire cars and quiet moments between sessions.

Mark had looked at Oscar for a long moment, something complicated crossing his face, before saying: George Russell.

Now Oscar picks at his cuticles and tries not to think about George in the paddock earlier. About seeing him after the race—George had finished poorly, clearly furious, Toto nowhere to be found. About the split second where Oscar had said—casual, calculated—507, if you don’t want to be alone tonight. About the way George's eyes had held his for a beat too long before he'd nodded once, sharp and knowing.

About months of careful not-looking that had become its own kind of looking.

(3/6)

He will be fine…..

Laughed.