This Will Never End
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Title: This Will Never End
Characters: Nico Rosberg, Michael Schumacher
Rating: Black Flag
Summary: Nico has always wanted him, and Michael can't say no forever.
Warning: age gap, barely legal
Disclaimer: All in my head, none of it real.
A/N: Written for this prompt on motorskink.
“Like what you see?” the teen asks him with a confidence and a smug smile that throws him off, but an attitude he probably should have expected from the Formula BMW winner. It’s not as if he is staring; he is simply looking, maybe admiring the roundness of the arse right in front of him too, or imagining how it would feel if his hands were to cup it.
“I know you want me,” the young man whispers in his ear while pulling him into a professional hug in all respects but for the words he just spoke and the way he’s pressing his crotch against him, letting him feel his hard cock through the layers of clothing.
“Nico, what are you doing?” Michael hisses through closed teeth, painfully aware of Nico’s body so publicly pressed against his, only meters away from where Keke stands.
“Help me celebrate,” Nico asks, their lips tantalizingly close.
“You’re seventeen,” Michael says, trying to block the advance, but he can’t control the way his body responds, the way his cock is already half hard in his jeans, but at least he still has the brains to break the hug and take a step back, patting Nico on the shoulder.
“Congratulations on another win,” Michael says before turning away from Nico and locking himself in the first bathroom he finds, freeing his cock and releasing the buildup of desire that now consumes him, mind filled with thoughts of the young Rosberg. Keke’s boy, he tries to remind himself, but it does nothing to stop him from picturing Nico’s fireproofs slowly being peeled off to reveal a smooth, firm body and a perked up dick ready and eager for him.
~*~
There’s no denying Nico likes a good party, especially when it’s a party thrown for him, and even more so when he wakes up the next morning with a warm body next to him, an arm flung over his narrow hips, and a mouth breathing softly against his neck. Nico doesn’t dare move too much, resisting the urge to do anything more than brush his fingers down the smooth bronze back of the sleeping man as he thinks back to the first time he was in this situation.
He wasn’t sure Michael would show up to his birthday party, thinking perhaps he had been too forward with the World Champion last year, but Michael was there, tight jeans and partially undone button shirt, exposing just enough collar bone and chest that made Nico want to tear the shirt right off Michael’s back.
Getting Michael to walk him back to his room was easy enough; a couple of stumbles, a few slurred words, acting just drunk enough for Michael to wrap a steady arm around him and help him to the room he rented at the hotel where the party was taking place. The harder part was convincing him to stay. Nico pulled at Michael’s collar, intending to press a kiss to Michael’s lips, but Michael turned away. “Nico,” he said, chastising him like a parent would their child.
“I know you want me,” Nico insisted. He could tell from the glances Michael sent his way when they met, from the way his breath caught whenever they hugged in greeting.
Michael took his chin between his finger and his thumb, “You’re still a kid.”
“I’m eighteen now, it’s alright,” Nico answered, knowing Michael’s hesitation was in no way related to how he felt.
“You haven’t even been eighteen for a full hour!”
“Stop trying to be so righteous, it doesn’t suit you,” Nico said, lips brushing against Michael’s mouth when he spoke, his fingers working away at the shirt buttons with too much agility for someone who was supposed to be drunk.
“I have to go,” Michael said, his voice a little shaky as he stilled Nico’s hands with his own, “Thanks for the party.” But Nico had already exposed most of Michael’s chest and he kissed the skin, wet lips and tip of tongue covering the defined pecs, and Michael froze in places, squeezed Nico’s hands and let out a quiet moan that brought a victorious smile to Nico’s face. He had finally broken through the last of Michael’s defenses.
“Fuck it,” Michael said, pulling the rest of his and Nico’s clothes off and dragging him into bed. Nico never felt more wanted than that night, as Michael seemed to get as much pleasure from touching him as he did being touched. Nico would have been embarrassed at his lack of endurance, but Michael didn’t seemed to mind, simply showering him with kisses and touches, or fucking him, or just letting him sleep, only to wake him up a few hours later and continue. By the time morning had come, the bedsheets were on the floor mixed in with towels, condom wrappers and lube were littering the night table, and Michael was asleep in his arms, as exhausted as he was, but as peaceful as one could be.
“Morning,” a muffled voice says, bringing Nico out of his revelry and back to the present.
“Hi,” he answers as he kisses Michael’s forehead, tightening his embrace.
Michael smiles and kisses his neck in response, tracing small circles on Nico’s hip bone. “We can’t keep doing this Nico, not if you want to marry Vivian. And with me not in F1, it’s not as easy. This needs to end.”
Nico cups the back of Michael’s neck and pulls him close, kissing him firmly while he rolls them both around so he lands on top of Michael. “This. Will. Never. End.” Nico says with a smile, kissing Michael repeatedly, looking into the eyes of the man he’s admired and idolized, and maybe even loved, for over a decade. “You’re a perfectionist, Michael Schumacher. That’s why you always come back to me.”
“Because you’re perfect?” Michael laughs, grabbing Nico by the wrists and rolling him on his back so Nico is now the one being straddled.
“No,” Nico answers, suddenly serious as he traces Michael’s outline with his hands. “Because you look for the perfect relationship, and I do too, but it doesn’t exist. That’s why you come back, because what we have, it might not be a relationship, but the moments we share, they’re the closest thing to perfect we’ll ever find.”
.