It had been odd to see Casey in the paddock again, surrounded by the familiar sight of bikes and uniformed team members running around and the press crawling up and down the pitlane with their sound crews and camera men. Familiar but jarring, it had felt wrong that Casey wasn’t in the bright red leathers of Ducati, to see how Casey’s face was lined with age and to feel the weariness in his own bones.

Sometimes he looked into his own face and saw the handiwork of time and thought, “fuck, I’m getting old!” With a surprise not fit for his age. It was hard to make amends with the fact that they were getting older, time seemed to be slipping through his fingers, but it was somehow worse to see it in Casey.

Still, Valentino wouldn’t lie and say that they were too old for him to have had a brief, vivid moment of delusion where they were again young and their teeth ached to bite down on another win to bring them closer to their name on the metal of the Tower of Champions, but he had looked away before a camera caught him watching.

Now, the paddock was packing up again, the circus getting ready to move onto the next country and Valentino was walking somewhat aimlessly until someone needed him. It was bittersweet for him, coming back to the paddock, old memories coming back to settle heavy in his chest.

He found himself wandering over to Ducati – he had no real intentions to talk to Casey, the air of Misano already coating his mouth with a bad taste, but maybe it was nostalgia and old sentiments and he found himself walking towards Casey. He stood beside him silently for a second and watched on as the Ducati mechanics loaded the bikes into the trucks.

“The bikes are so different,” Casey said after a pause and Valentino turned to look at his face. There was no sense of longing in Casey’s eyes, not like how Valentino couldn’t let go, but there was a distaste to the tension between Casey’s eyebrows.

He knew he had held on for too long and some part of him would never leave the race track behind, haunting the paddock in whispers of his name and half of his soul no matter where in the world he found himself. He knew that Casey would forsake every part of the race until it was stripped down onto the bike and the pilot, machine and man, and he had to stifle a laugh. If there were any two people more unlike one another, Valentino would be astonished, but he had heard that opposites attract.

“You don’t like the bike, no?” Valentino stated more than asked. It was amusing, just slightly.

“No, I don’t,” Casey said stiffly, never turning to face Valentino. Valentino hummed in acknowledgement and again they stood in silence.

“Come to my motorhome?” Valentino found himself asking, and again he couldn’t exactly fathom why but it felt right; nostalgia, whim, or whatever else could be blamed.

That seemed to capture Casey’s attention because he finally looked up at Valentino. “What?”

“Eh, I said come to my motorhome,” Valentino said again,

“I thought we didn’t do that anymore.”

“Allora, you do not say that at the ranch,” Valentino said salaciously, which got Casey’s eyes to widen slightly and his cheeks to tinge rosy pink. 

Casey glared at him before whipping his head to look around as if trying to find a journalist with a microphone in hand hiding behind a corner waiting to accost them. It was odd, Valentino had always been the more image-cautious one of the two of them. They had hugged in the middle of the paddock with people all around them, compared to that just talking together seemed innocent enough in his opinion.

Finding that no one had popped out of the ground with a camera to livestream to the world that two MotoGP world champions had fucked, Casey rounded back at him to level him with a glare. “You want something, just tell me what it is and then leave.” 

Valentino would have probably fucked off by this point if Casey hadn’t been so hostile, but the man’s prickly demeanor after seemingly starting to begrudgingly accept Valentino’s friendliness made him a little curious. Casey had always been a little touchy, easily provoked by things that Valentino didn’t understand fully and hadn’t really ever had a care to try – at least until now that was.

“Come to my motorhome. You eat dinner with me, we chat about when we were racing like old men, nothing bad,” Valentino said, loud enough that anyone with a curious ear would think enough. Casey looked at him scrutinizingly, up and down his face as if he could divine a motive from it.

“Fine, I can do dinner,” Casey said slowly, still seemingly not trusting Valentino fully, “but only dinner.” At that, Valentino broke out into a grin, he still knew how to sway Casey; it wasn’t like the man ever had the restraint of a monk anyway. 

“Only dinner,” Valentino repeated innocently, but the smile on his face made him look like the cat who got the cream.

•••

When Valentino had been younger, he had been something of a risk-taker with his passions. Girls were acceptable – hell, girls were encouraged – but sometimes Valentino wanted a broader figure to envelope his own, lanky one and a calloused hand to thread in between his fingers and press him down into the springy mattresses of the hotel rooms that had made up his youth. The more eyes that trailed on him as the years passed, although, the more hesitations that sprung up.

However, even at the height of his career with the devoted eyes of thousands scrutinizing him, he had found ways to. It was a careful oasis of privacy that he would never be made to give up when there was a man in this bed, a piece of his life that he could keep selfishly to himself and which no one would ever ask him to surrender.

Some people had told him to settle down with some model, have a kid or two, not risk it as much as he did, but Valentino had never been one to play it safe. He never took their advice; he had always wanted everything the world had given him and then some more and he was nothing if not greedy.

There was a youthful freedom in taking a man into his bed and a more than a little bit of giddy delight in pushing Casey down onto the bed. He pulled himself into the younger man’s lap, crashing their lips together in a messy kiss. 

As so often as it did, the world narrowed down into just the bedroom and its inhabitants, then further down into the throbbing pain in his lips as Casey bit down harshly, the feeling of Casey’s hand running against the sides of his torso from where it had sneaked under his shirt, the throbbing of his cock in his shorts. Almost in spite of himself, Valentino ground down against Casey’s crotch, the friction making them both moan into each other’s mouths as they rubbed against each other like teenagers.

Casey’s hand trailed down to Valentino’s hips and stilled them. With a mournful groan, Valentino pulled away from Casey to glare at him.

“No offense, but I don’t think that either of us could go for a second round,” Casey said, panting ever so slightly with his pupils blown wide and absurdly, Valentino broke down laughing. He hid his face in Casey’s chest, shaking with laughter and Casey tensed underneath him as if he thought Valentino was going insane mid-foreplay.

Before Casey could do anything about it, though, Valentino pulled his head up and framed a confused Casey’s face with his hands, a wide smile on his face. “We are so fucking old.”

Casey rolled his eyes at Valentino’s but he still smiled, Valentino could feel the sides of his mouth turn up underneath his hands. He pushed Valentino off and stood up to start taking off his clothes, leaving Valentino to flop down on the bed and watch him with a dopey grin.

“You do know we can’t have sex if you’re going to be dressed the whole time, right?” Casey asked when he had gotten his jeans off but Valentino was still laying on the bed, his eyes trailing up the bare skin that Casey had exposed. Valentino sighed heavily at the idea of getting up.

Seemingly done with Valentino’s theatrics, Casey rolled his eyes and stripped down to his boxers in the most utilitarian strip tease that Valentino had ever been in the receiving end of. Still, Valentino whistled in appreciation for a second to which Casey blushed bright red before pulling him up to his feet to take off Valentino’s team polo in one smooth motion.

His shirt was thrown somewhere across the room uncaringly but Valentino didn’t even have a chance to whine about it before Casey began to suck bruises into Valentino’s shoulders and the crook of his neck. The boys were going to drag him through the mud about it but Valentino found himself groaning in a mixture of pain and pleasure when Casey got a little bit meaner with his bites.

Casey’s hand went down to play with the buckle of his belt, toying at the clasp before taking it off and letting Valentino’s shorts fall to the ground as well. Valentino threaded his fingers into Casey’s hair and pulled him away from where he was biting into Valentino’s shoulder. It was kind of hot to see the dazed look on Casey’s face. The low light of the bedside lamp made him look even more debauched, yellow light highlighting the red of his cheeks and the dilation of his pupils.

Impatience pooled in Valentino’s stomach as he finally pulled off his and Casey’s boxers, leaving them both fully naked. He pushed Casey onto the bed before moving down to be face to face with the other man’s dick. Casey looked down at him with half-lidded eyes and Valentino met his gaze as he took Casey into his mouth. 

“Jesus Christ,” Casey groaned under his breath as Valentino bobbed his head up and down slowly to get used to the familiar feeling of a dick down his throat. He would have made a cocky remark that his name was Valentino, but he wasn’t really interested in pulling away from Casey’s dick at the moment.

This time, it was Casey’s fingers which threaded in Valentino’s hair. He made no move to fuck Valentino’s mouth, just placed his hand on top of his head like a reminder. Casey started to breathe harder, little restrained groans escaping his throat before Valentino let his teeth graze him ever so slightly and Casey moaned loud enough that the sound filled the room.

As the seconds flitted by, any grasp that Casey’d had of himself slipped more and more until he was bucking into Valentino’s mouth with curses spilled under his breath. A particularly rough thrust made Valentino splutter, pulling off Casey as he began to gag slightly. But before Casey could move away, Valentino took another breath and went back down on him.

It took little to make Casey come down Valentino’s throat. Valentino pushed his tongue against the underside of Casey’s dick and sucked on his tip and Casey was arching off the bed. Coughing, Valentino pulled off Casey’s dick and swallowed, licking his lips with a cheshire grin that Valentino could swear had made Casey stop breathing for a second.

For a second, Casey closed his eyes and Valentino was worried he was going to fall asleep. He could have probably made do with the sight of Casey’s red, flushed skin and the sheen of sweat on his body to jerk off, but what was the point of having someone else in his bed if they weren’t even going to make him come? But Casey got up again, twisting around to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lube to coat his hand with.

“I don’t think I could give you a blow job right now if I wanted to,” Casey said, coming back to Valentino’s side, “so you’re going to have to do with my hand.” Honestly, Valentino couldn’t be bothered to give a shit; sex was sex, Casey was Casey, and he had never been that picky anyway, so Valentino just nodded mindlessly in agreement.

The first touch of Casey’s hand against Valentino’s cock felt like heaven. He hadn’t known just how desperate he had been until Casey started to move his fist up and down Valentino’s dick. His eyes closed without his consent and a constant litany of noise and an unintelligible mixture of Italian and English passed through his lips. It didn’t take long before Valentino was tumbling over the edge, but who could blame him?

He collapsed again onto the dirty sheets with Casey falling right beside him. The sheets were disgusting and they would have to inevitably get up to clean themselves but that could wait. They had until morning light would light up their sins to the world and in the afterglow, that seemed forever away.

“I can’t believe you roped me into sex only for it to end in a blowie and a hand job,” Casey said finally, a mixture of disbelief after they’d both caught their breaths.

“Fucking takes a lot of energy, I’ve had a busy day,” Valentino shrugged, stretching out his limbs as a pleasant exhaustion weighed him down and Casey scoffed a laugh.

One of Casey’s fingers was trailing absentminded figures into Valentino’s skin. They were both filthy but neither seemed to want to get up and break the illusion that they had made together. It never lasted, one of them had always left – it simply was how the story always went. Still, Valentino wanted to relish in the moments he had, to hold Casey close for a moment longer.

There was a heavy feeling in his chest, one he couldn’t properly define that made tears well up in his eyes and feel less like the thirty-six year old man that he was and more like a kid wanting to run back to his mom. Uccio was waiting for him outside, he had been the one who went to get the tests and had held back his hair while he had puked his guts out every morning but Valentino found that he didn’t want to say it out loud.

“I’m pregnant,” he mouthed to himself and another wave of nausea washed over him. Suddenly his skin felt too small over his body and he wanted to be anything other than himself. There was something growing inside him and it was going to ruin everything he had ever worked for.

He pulled up his shirt to stare at his stomach. There was no way he was showing, it had barely been two weeks since it had happened, but it still got hard to breathe anyway. Running a hand over his stomach, he imagined it distended instead of flat. The skin there would stretch taught over a baby instead of flesh, bone, and muscle, he realized deliriously.  

Valentino had no clue what he was supposed to be feeling – elated? But his career was over now, everyone would see a knocked up omega first and a MotoGP champion second. Horrified? But some small, stupid part of him wanted it desperately.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Valentino immediately dropped his shirt, startling as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. Uccio called out, “Vale? Are you okay?” And Valentino fought back a hysterical laugh, he felt fucking awful. He felt unmoored and horrified and confused and horrible and he didn’t know how to fix it.

Still he took a deep breath and opened the door to face a worried looking Uccio. “If I won Assen pregnant does that make the baby the youngest race winner ever? How constipated do you think Ippolito would look if I asked him?”

“Fuck,” Uccio said, his eyes wide, ”Are you sure?” Valentino wasn’t expecting Uccio to know or understand what the fuck he was supposed to be doing but still the fact that 

“No Alessio, I think all six fucking pregnancy tests and puking my guts out every morning for the last week were just hallucinations,” Valentino snapped before taking a deep breath.

Tentatively, Uccio began, “We could probably find a doctor that’ll abort it who’ll keep his mouth shut if we pay him extra.”

Valentino looked up as if God would spell out what the fuck he should be doing on the ceiling but finding nothing, he slowly shook his head no. It felt wrong to kill it. Was it wrong that he was going to keep it?

Pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes hard enough for his vision to go red he sighed. “I want to go to the doctor, just to make sure.”

At that moment every stupid decision he had made in the last month flashed before his eyes. He had drank after Assen and had coffee and had raced maybe with the baby and fuck knows when it had been conceived – he knew, he knew and he hoped and prayed he was wrong, he knew and he wished he didn’t – it wasn’t even real yet and Valentino had already fucked it up.

“You’re keeping it? Valentino we need a plan, if someone sees you there and calls the press—” Uccio began, breaking Valentino out of the spiral he had been going down.

“—So I’ll fucking call him ahead of time. Uccio just deal with it? Please,” Valentino sighed, looking back at Uccio pleadingly. He could basically hear Uccio thinking but Uccio slowly nodded.

“I’ll tell the boys you have a cold, but they won’t leave you alone when you come back,” Uccio warned.

“Thank you,” Valentino said with a tight-lipped smile but just as he was going to pull out his phone to call the doctor, Uccio stopped him with a serious look. The beta had been joined to Valentino’s hip since they had been twerps on tricycles but he had never seen Uccio so hesitant before.

“Listen, I don’t know how to say this without you running away, but you don’t have to keep it.” Uccio stared at him imploringly but Valentino just nodded stiffly before pulling out his phone, telling him to fuck off without saying the words.

The phone rang, once, twice, and Uccio gave him an appraising look, something wary and nervous, before stepping out. Valentino leaned his head on the wall with a thunk, listening to the phone ring out – three long beeps, a pause, again the cycle repeats – before a feminine voice picked with the same greeting he had been met with every other time that he had made an appointment. The familiarity was more jarring than soothing, he found.

“Ciao, I need an appointment as soon as you can get me—”

•••

Valentino had always hated hospitals. He hated the smell of cleaning products and the sight of terrified people in the waiting room but he hated the moments between waiting for results to come and doctors to arrive even more. Money, he had found, helped quicken up the process a little.

He tapped his finger onto the wooden tabletop as he read through the posters around the room for what seemed like the billionth time to pass the time. He could recite the words by heart if someone asked him to. Dr. Flippi could have stepped out anywhere from five minutes to hours ago. Valentino knew that he would get the same result as he had got at home, but there was something different to a doctor saying it that made the diagnosis feel like a death sentence more than anything.

If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the calm of the rituals before a race, the intoxication of being a bike, the rev of the engine and the roar of the crowds, but the twinging in his arm where the nurse had drawn his blood kept reminding him of where he was. Fear wasn’t an emotion foreign to Valentino, a good racer had to be a little afraid whenever he was riding a bike, but this fear was all consuming in a way that didn’t give him clarity like the fear that filled his veins before he took a risky pass.

The door cracked open and Valentino almost flinched at the sound before catching himself. He looked over and it was just Dr. Flippi with the tests in her hand. Dr. Flippi himself was a severe looking old woman somewhere between seventy and a hundred years old and she had been Valentino’s doctor since he had presented.

Vividly, Valentino could still remember sitting in the same exact seat at eighteen, fresh off of his presentation heat and delirious with anger and shock. If he had any strength to be snarky, Valentino would have made a comment about how exactly the suppressants had made Valentino infertile if he had gotten knocked up after one heat at the young age of thirty-six. Instead, Valentino worried at his lip as if he didn’t already know what the doctor was going to say, as if him speaking it out loud would make it realer than it was at the moment.

“You’re pregnant but I think you already knew that,” Dr. Flippi said and Valentino let out a shaky laugh. With the same tone, Dr. Flippi went on, “you want to do away with it?”

Valentino’s nails bit into his palms as he curled them in hard enough that he was sure if he looked at his hands there would be perfect crescent shaped indents in his skin. He could, something whispered in him, if it just went away, Valentino didn’t have to deal with the problems that would come with it. But a larger, louder part of Valentino wondered if he would ever have the opportunity if he walked away from this one.

“No, I’m going to keep it,” he whispered as if it was something sinful that he wanted no one other than her to know. If she was surprised by his answer, she didn’t show it, just nodding slowly at his answer.

“While it’s not mandatory, I suggest that you bring the alpha for your next appointment—” Valentino took in a sharp breath when she said alpha but Flippi didn’t seem to catch it, too busy rattling off information about prenatal appointments and antenatal classes.

Watching him run off of his bike to climb the podium as the world champion of 2007 only left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, however.

He had watched the kid struggle up through pure grit and talent and he had earned that podium and he had earned his place with the other MotoGP champions on the Winner’s cup but still, he couldn’t help the part of him that was filled with jealousy. There was no feeling better than the feeling of the top step of a podium and the feeling of winning was better than any high a drug could give him and he was jealous. Everytime he saw someone on that top step other than him he was jealous.

Once, it had marked him as a good rider. Crash after crash he had gotten up again out of a sheer need to win and that anger that he had felt had been a strength. It had never been about the money or the fame but the thrill of winning, it’s what had made him different from the rest, but now it made him feel like an old man angry that someone younger now had it all.

If Mick was a better man, he would have stayed to congratulate Casey. But then again, if Mick was a better man, he wouldn’t have felt jealous over a kid winning his first world championship in the first place. He left before Casey climbed down the podium.

•••

A few hours later, Mick found himself standing in front of Casey’s hotel room, fist raised to knock at the door. If it had been any other rider, Mick would have slated it as a lost cause until they finally dragged themselves out of whatever seedy club they’d been partying in, but clubbing had never been Casey’s scene. Everyone who had thought he was too serious had never met Casey Stoner.

So, when the guilt of leaving the kid like that without saying anything to him had finally reached a point where he couldn’t just ignore it, he had called a few people to find what hotel room they’d put Casey in and had finally brought himself to go congratulate the kid. Still he hesitated, his hand still held in the air in front of him, and he wondered if he really was going to do this, before he finally gave in and knocked on the door.

For one, anti-climatic moment, nothing happened and Mick had resigned himself to giving some quick congratulations and a made up reason for his disappearance over the phone when he heard the sound of scuffling and a few muffled curses from behind the door. Casey wrenched the door open a few seconds after and, well – Mick couldn’t judge, he’d had his own wild few nights after his own championships after all – there was no other way to describe him other than a man who was disturbed mid-sex.

He was half dressed, only in a pair of sweatpants and no shirt, and his chest was covered in a blotchy red. If that wasn’t evidence enough, his pupils were blown wide and his usually neatly gelled back hair was sticking up in all directions like someone had run their fingers through it.  Mick would have had to have been blind not to realize what Casey had been doing instead of partying. The only question was how in God’s name Casey had found the courage to talk up a girl.

“Mick,” Casey said, his voice raspy and his eyes wide, “why are you here?”

“I thought I’d congratulate you, but I wasn’t expecting you to have company already,” Mick responded, giving him a once over. “The first championship is always the best, ” he ended weakly. He wasn’t lying, there wasn’t a way that Mick could explain how he’d felt when he’d won his first and do it justice all the while.

Casey’s cheeks went pink and his ears were burning red. “It’s nothing no one else’s done,” he grumbled before tacking on a quick, “thanks.”

“Is that Mick?” Casey’s guest called out from the room and both men froze. That voice was undeniably a man’s voice and suddenly, Mick knew damn well who exactly Casey had been fucking.

“Valentino Rossi,” Mick hissed at Casey incredulously, leaning a little heavier on his cane, “you’re fucking Valentino Rossi of all people?”

“It’s nothing no one else’s done,” Casey repeated again, his eyes narrowing at him and Mick knew Valentino had told him. “You know what? Just come inside.”

Without even checking if Mick was going to follow him, Casey turned to disappear into his room like he just knew that Mick would do as he’d asked and for a second, Mick was tempted to just turn around and walk away. He was far too old to participate in whatever game Casey and Valentino were playing with one another – but in the end, he was just a man like the rest of them all and temptation won out and he followed Casey inside.

•••

Mick had to be careful where he placed his cane because of the clothes thrown carelessly on the floor. The room was dim, dark except for the gentle glow of a night lamp and when he finally caught sight of Valentino sitting on the bed, completely naked. Like Casey, Valentino looked dazed and fucked, but there was still that sharp cunning to his eyes that never really left him.

“Decided to join us old man?” Valentino asked with a lazy grin, clearly egging Mick on. He’d had a bad race, Mick knew, and Valentino was a bitch when he had a bad race – he was surprised that he had come to Casey at all instead of moping with the boy that stuck to him like a shadow.

“I might stick around if you make it worth my time,” Mick shrugged dismissively in a way he knew would piss him off.

Valentino got up on his knees and pulled him close, making Mick stumble slightly. If Mick just moved his head forwardly slightly, he would be kissing Valentino. Valentino threw his hands around Mick’s neck and smiled slightly at him.

“If I hadn’t been the best fuck you’ve had in your life, maybe that threat would have been convincing.”

“So confident for a boy who was crying the first time I fucked him.” That got a glare from Valentino, but it would have been more threatening if the sight of tears falling down Valentino’s face wasn’t engrained in Mick’s memory.

“Should I leave you two to your dick measuring contest or what?” Casey interrupted from where he was watching them boredly from the headboard.

“Maybe you should learn a little patience,” Valentino bit back, not looking back to face the other man and well, the boy had won his first championship after all, he didn’t deserve backtalk from a bitch.

Mick threaded his fingers into Valentino’s hair, yanking his head back, and Valentino groaned at the pain. “How about you apologize to Casey?” he ordered more than asked.

“How about you go fuck yourself?” Valentino said, his eyes half-lidded but his smile sharp as ever. He winced when Mick’s fingers tightened around Valentino’s hair but a moan slipped from him nonetheless.

“Fuck, sorry Casey,” Valentino said begrudgingly and Mick let go of his hair. Casey watched them with interest, his cock tenting in his pants at the sounds that Valentino made. He clearly thought Mick handling Valentino was hot – after all, Valentino was something like a force of nature, it took a lot to wrangle him into something that almost resembled docile but never fully.

“Casey seems a little uncomfortable in his pants, don’t you think?” Mick hummed, staring into Casey’s eyes the entire time and leaning down next to Valentino’s ear like he was whispering in a dog’s ear. “Go take it off of him.” Valentino opened his mouth, seemingly to say something snide again, before thinking better of it and turning around to face Casey.

He walked over to an armchair in the corner, sitting down heavily as he watched Valentino connect his and Casey’s lips. One of Valentino’s hands went down to unbutton and unzip Casey’s jeans, they stopped for a second as Valentino dragged Casey’s pants off and threw it carelessly behind him. Before Mick could tell him anything, Valentino was reaching for the lube on the night stand.

“Stop, Casey, you should prep him,” Mick called out and Casey nodded eagerly. Unlike Valentino, the boy listened to him sometimes, which was more than Valentino’s never; he was more willing to bend to his will than the other man.

“Allora, I can prep myself,” Valentino whined just for the sake of complaining.

“Let him prep you or Casey can just fuck you without prep, it’s your choice.”

Valentino grumbled before shoving the bottle at Casey. Casey slicked his fingers before pulling him in for a kiss by the back of his neck with his clean hand. His hand remained on the back of his neck as Casey reached down to sink his finger into Valentino’s hole. Mick’s cock stirred in his shorts but he didn’t touch himself.

One finger turned into two and Valentino rested his forehead on Casey’s shoulder, panting and groaning. Slowly, Valentino was losing himself, dazed and incoherent leaving the man and animal that was intent on getting pleasure instead of the darling godling on two tires. There was something so intoxicating about dwindling down Valentino of all people into something dumb with pleasure, moaning and asking for more with not much else on his mind except more more more. The eternal boy king of MotoGP debasing himself for dick, it was hotter than anything else that Mick had seen.

“I think he’s stretched enough, don’t you Casey?” Mick said. “Go on, slip your fingers out and fuck him.”

“Fuck,” Casey groaned, but he did what Mick told him to do. Slowly, he slipped out his fingers and Valentino groaned annoyedly. 

He flipped them over so it was Valentino who was laying on the bed instead of himself and pulled his legs up to rest on Casey’s shoulders. Mick almost cursed when he saw how Valentino was made to bend, the man’s pre-race stretches were being put to good use for once.

Casey lined his dick up to Valentino’s hole before slowly pressing in without pause, Valentino moaned loud enough that Casey covered Valentino’s mouth with his hand. Without giving Valentino much time to get used to the feeling of him inside him, Casey started to move and muffled moans and curses were the only things that came from Valentino.

Valentino’s dick, pretty and hard against his thin stomach, left a white puddle of precome on his stomach, but no one moved to touch it and Mick made no move to order them to either. His head was thrown back against the pillows, mouth thrown open making little sounds every time Casey pushed inside fully and his eyes bleary and teary. He looked debauched and suddenly Mick had the weird urge to take a picture of the sight.

After a few seconds, Casey lost all pretense of moving slowly and carefully, thrusting in and out of Valentino quickly to chase his own end. Mick finally unzipped his shorts, letting out a sigh of relief as the pressure of his shorts tight against his dick finally left. He didn’t move to join them, however, until Valentino moved his hand down to touch his cock. Mick stood up, his shorts unzipped and slung low on his hips to stop Valentino’s hand.

“What the fuck— let me touch myself,” Valentino scowled and Mick tightened his grasp around Valentino’s wrist.

“You don’t come until I tell you to come,” Mick said cooly, meeting Valentino’s glare head-on.

“Shit, Mick,” Casey groaned. If he had looked well-fucked when he had met Mick at the door, Mick didn’t know what to call how he looked now.

Sweat beaded at Casey’s forehead as he looked down at Valentino with a single-minded focus, powerful arms taught as he gripped Valentino’s waist, pulling him into every thrust. His mouth was red and bitten from when he had been kissing Valentino and Mick reached out to hold the side of his face. Casey looked at him, confused, and Mick pulled him in for a kiss.

Valentino cursed at the sight underneath them as Casey steadily pumped into him while kissing Mick, but neither man paid him any regard, too busy licking into each other’s mouths. When they parted for breath, Casey was panting and there was a blush high on his cheeks and a few thrusts later, Casey was spilling into Valentino.

Pulling out of Valentino, Casey’s come started to leak out but Mick pushed it back in with two of his own fingers. Casey made a sound from the back of his throat as he watched intently where the base of Mick’s fingers were touching Valentino’s rim, but he climbed off the bed watch from the armchair Mick recently vacated.

“My turn,” Mick said, leering down at Valentino. Mick sat down to the side, his leg was still fucked and he couldn’t kneel for long, before pulling Valentino up to sit on his lap, fingers still plugging Casey’s come inside him.

“It’s a surprise you can still get it up after this long, popped a pill before this?” Valentino asked before letting out a keen as Mick curled his fingers inside him.

“Good whores know when to shut up,” Mick said before unceremoniously pulling his fingers out of Valentino and pushing himself into Valentino. He guided Valentino up and down with his hands wrapped around his waist, making the younger man ride him.

He could feel Casey’s come being pushed back into Valentino, fucked in deeper by his cock, and if Valentino’s cursing was anything to go by, Valentino could feel it too. Mick took in greedily every wince, moan, and twitch of Valentino’s face like a man starved. The thing about fucking riders was that you couldn’t know when it would be the last time you were allowed to so every time counted. Valentino was the finickiest one too, he liked to toy with people around him and lost interest when they left his circle, but that only made fucking him now that much more sweeter.

“Please let me come,” Valentino gasped, his eyes wide and pleading.

Mick was close too, he had been basically edging himself for just as long as he had been edging Valentino, but he couldn’t help but taunt Valentino. “Should I let you? But you’ve been such a bitch, baby, I don’t think you deserve it. What would you do if I just came and left you like this? Would you cry again?”

Valentino looked close to crying already, his eyes glistening with welled up tears, and Mick held on, just a few seconds more and he knew that— tears slipped down Valentino’s face and it sent Mick over the edge, adding his own come in with Casey’s. He placed his hand on Valentino’s dick finally, jerking the other man off and it took just a few pumps of his fist and a press on his slit for Valentino to come all over Mick’s hands before collapsing on Mick like a ragdoll.

Guiding Valentino off of him, Mick pulled the other man to curl up on the bed beside him and Casey popped out of God knows where with a wet rag to wipe him off. He was reverent with it, no matter how much snide comments and the media cat fights they had with each other, Casey seemed to like Valentino legitimately for reasons beyond Mick’s comprehension.

“You could stay if you want, I wouldn’t mind,” Casey said, not looking up from Valentino. “He stays the night most of the time.”

Mick had the sudden urge to shake Casey and tell him that no matter how young and stupid he was, he couldn’t fall in love with Valentino. It was a tragedy just waiting to happen, someone always leaves.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” Mick grunted instead, grabbing his cane as he walked off in the direction of the bathroom.

•••

Mick looked back at the sleeping duo one more time before he left, his gaze unreadable. He didn’t know what to think of that himself or even what to classify what happened as, but he knew that it wouldn’t happen again. Some fluke of chance was all that he could say it was.