Forever Unseen (Part 3)
As always, click here for Master List of Fics.Title: Forever Unseen
Parts: 1 and 2, 3
Characters: Valtteri Bottas, Christian Horner, Mark Webber
Rating: Black Flag
Summary: Valtteri never fails to find something interesting to see when he's wandering around invisible as a ghost.
A/N: Originally posted on Tumblr. This is a work in progress.
Normally, Valtteri doesn’t bother snooping on conversations that he shouldn’t be hearing, but when he walks past an open office door and hears Mark’s distinct voice booming from inside, he can’t resist going in. Red Bull drama, after all, is much better than any reality TV out there.
“This is fucking bullshit! This isn’t a team anymore, it’s Seb’s personal fan club!” Mark yells at Christian, who is sitting calmly in the chair on the other side of the desk.
“We’re just trying to do what’s best for the team Mark.”
“What’s best for the team?” Mark laughs dryly. “If the team was kissing Seb’s ass any harder, they’d have their tongue up his hole.”
“Mark,” Christian says as a warning that he’s gone too far.
“Don’t fucking Mark me. I bet you never use that tone with him,” Mark spits, “It’s all praises and thank yous with him.”
Christian buries his face in his hands and sighs. “You don’t get it. I can’t appear to be biased. I have to be fair.”
Mark leans across the desk. “I don’t know in what fucking world you live in, but in mine there is nothing fair about this.”
“Close the door, Mark,” Christian says looking up to meet Mark’s eyes.
Mark crosses his arms on his chest, an unimpressed smile on his face. “Why? So the world can keep believing we’re one happy family?”
Christian gets up and closes the door. “You really don’t understand. I can’t have a favourite, no matter how much I want to. No matter how much I want you.”
Valtteri has to cover his mouth to stop his gasp when Christian puts a hand at the back of Mark’s neck and slams their mouths together, lips pressed hard against each other. Mark pushes Christian away from him and runs a hand over his surprised face. “Fucking hell, mate!”
Christian blushes and looks at the floor. “Sorry. I just… I needed you to understand.”
There’s a moment when Valtteri isn’t sure whether Mark is about to punch Christian in the face or leave or laugh, but he sure isn’t expecting Mark to harshly cup Christian’s face with both hands and kiss him back, all teeth and tongue until Christian is pushing him away to get some air.
“This better be worth all the shit the team’s putting me through,” Mark says, looking into Christian’s eyes before he pulls Christian’s shirt over his head in one swift motion, and Christian is too stunned by Mark’s response to say anything, so instead he helps Mark get rid of the rest of their clothes, and just like that, Valtteri is trapped in an office and about to witness a show he never expected to see, so he settles in a corner with a huge grin on his face. If only he could tell someone about this, not that anyone would believe it.
Mark sits in Christian’s chair, legs wide apart, while Christian kneels in front of him, letting his head be guided towards Mark’s crotch. Valtteri is already feeling the blood go to his dick, because although Christian isn’t his type, he’d have to be blind not to be aroused by Mark’s naked body and his quickly hardening cock. There’s something so rugged and masculine about Mark, and Valtteri wishes it was him between Mark’s legs, wishes it was his mouth around Mark’s cock, sucking it hard while Mark’s hand was guiding him, but he has to be satisfied with watching Christian do it, making Mark’s low moans fill the room as Mark curls his fingers in Christian’s hair, almost reluctantly pushing him back.
“On the desk,” Mark says before putting two fingers in his mouth and taking them out, saliva dripping from them. There’s a moment of hesitation in Christian’s eyes, but he seems to realise it’s a now or never moment, so he pushes the piles of paper aside and lays back on the desk, legs bent and feet at the edge.
Mark is surprisingly gentle when he breaches his boss, taking the time that’s needed, and probably a bit more. Valtteri has a suspicion that Mark is enjoying seeing Christian squirm under his touch, that he loves to hear him beg, call his name over and over again, pleading for Mark’s cock inside him.
When the cellphone rings on the desk, Mark glances at it, fingers still inside Christian. “Answer it,” he tells him.
Christian manages to prop himself up on his elbows. “Now?!” And when Mark nods, Christian picks up the phone to see who’s calling. “No way.”
“Answer, on speaker, or I stop,” Mark says, teasing Christian’s prostate just enough to make him fall back down against the desk and moan.
“Fine,” Christian says as he picks up. “Hey Seb, I’m kind of bu-syyyy,” he says as Mark continues fingering him with the biggest smile on his face.
“Oh. I thought we could talk,” Seb says.
“Now’s not a good time,” Christian manages to say without letting his voice crack too badly.
“You always have time. I want to talk about the race, it’s important. I -“
“Not everything is about you Seb. I’ll call back later,” Christian says and hangs up, not waiting for an answer. “Fuck you,” he says to Mark, though the words lose their significance when he arches his back and moans loudly. “Fuck me, please.”
Mark laughs, because for once, it’s about him and not Seb, and he’s more than happy to fuck Christian, watching his cock go deep and hard inside him, and Valtteri is barely able to keep it together, biting down on the hem of his shirt to prevent any sound escaping his lips.
When he’s almost ready to climax, Mark jerks Christian off, seeing him fall apart brings him just over the cliff, and he adds his come to the pool on Christian’s stomach while Valtteri has resorted to using one of his socks to hide any evidence of his presence.
When Christian is done cleaning the mess on his body, Mark helps him up and tosses him his clothes.
“So is it worth it?” Christian asks as he finishes straightening his clothes.
“Maybe,” Mark says as he heads for the door, “but I’d like to try again, you know, to make sure.”
And Christian smiles as he watches him leave, but the frown returns quickly when he looks at the mess of papers on his desk and takes the phone in his hand, hitting the call back button.
Not bad for a number two driver, Valtteri thinks as he walks out of the office, a soiled sock in his pocket.
.