Let The Hail Come Down
As always, click here for Master List of Fics.Title: Let The Hail Come Down
Characters: Jules Bianchi, Max Chilton
Rating: Blue Flag
Summary: Max gets bruised in a hail storm. Jules kisses him better.
Disclaimer: All made up. Except for the hail storm bit.
A/N: Written for a prompt on motorskink.
Jules is looking for his gloves when he finds Max in the dressing room, his back to him, the skin freckled with bruises of all shades, from the faintest yellows to the deepest purples. He remembers Max saying he got caught in two hail storms while cycling a few days ago, and he certainly wasn’t exaggerating.
He walks up to Max from behind, a faint hello to announce his presence before he puts his hands of Max’s narrow hips, kissing the small bruise lodged on the rise of his left shoulder blade. “Does it hurt?” he asks, gently moving his lips another bruise.
“A little,” Max says, leaning with his hands against the wall in front of him.
Jules’ lips form a smile against Max’s skin. “Let me kiss it better,” he says and traces wet kisses all over Max’s back. Max shivers under his touch, and it’s quite the accomplishment considering the oppressive Malaysian heat. He lingers over a particularly nasty looking bruise, the skin turned navy blue, and licks at it, pressing his tongue hard against it. Max lets out a moan and looks at him over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Making it better,” Jules says and gives Max a look he’s sure his boyfriend will understand.
Max shifts his weight on his feet, widening his stance, and drops his head forward, giving Jules permission to continue. Jules continues to lick and kiss Max’s bruises, listening to Max’s breathing quickening. He lets his teeth graze at the sensitive skin first, testing Max’s response to the soreness before he bites hard into the skin and Max groans between clenched teeth.
Jules slides his hand inside Max’s pants, stroking his stiff cock while he continues biting at bruises, each stroke and each bite harder than the last. He’s never completely sure when to stop, when it’s too much. He hates seeing the pain in Max’s eyes but he loves the pleasure that shines just as brightly. He has to trust Max when he indulges him this way, has to trust that he’ll tell him when to stop. And right now, Max isn’t stopping him, simply arches his back and fists his hands against the wall. So Jules keeps going, leaving every single bruise surrounded by a crown of teeth marks, and he wonders which will fade first.
When Max is close, Jules turns him around so they’re face-to-face, and continues stroking his cock while he leaves one last mark on Max’s skin, a large hickey just below the neckline, a bruise that could rival the fiercest hail storm.
.