Words on a Page
As always, click here for Master List of Fics.Title: Words on a Page
Characters: Charles Pic, Giedo van der Garde
Rating: Red Flag
Summary: Giedo discovers the F1 fandom.
Disclaimer: Not real, didn't happen - all in my head.
A/N Inspired by this prompt, posted on motorskink. This fic kinda had a life of its own and ended up being very different from my original idea. *shrugs* It happens. I now see it as a sort of tribute to the meme. I stumbled face first into the fandom a couple of months ago, and now I’m addicted. *glares* Thanks. To the authors from whom I stole tidbits/mentions of your stories: I only meant it in the best of ways. If I mentioned something you wrote, it’s because something in it made it stick in my brain - I hope you don't mind! Now on to the story...
Giedo came across it first. He can’t remember exactly how it happened. He clicked on a link, on Tumblr maybe, which led to another link, which led to another. Then before he realized how he got there, he was reading a story about Mark and Seb. It was completely absurd, but hilarious as fuck. Seb was a unicorn and Mark was a dinosaur. Who comes up with this stuff, Giedo thought, his stomach hurting from laughing so much.
When he finished that story, he decided to keep reading. Some of what he saw were stories, while some were ideas, he gathered, of what people (fans?) wanted to read about. The next story he found was about Felipe and Rob. Although this was still amusing, it definitely wasn’t what he had been expecting. Felipe was eating a lollipop. That in itself wasn’t anything particularly fascinating, Giedo thought. But this story, the way the author was describing Rob’s thoughts, was very naughty. Giedo had felt himself almost intruding, wondering whether he should be reading this stuff about people he knew. It almost felt like he was ready someone’s personal diary. But, he thought, it’s just words on a page. So he kept reading, in no particular order, clicking here and there and everywhere.
It was 4:00 am when Giedo eventually took notice of the time. His eyes were dry and itchy from staring at his computer screen so long. His mind was a little foggy and he rubbed his eyes with a hand. He had watched porn before, and looked at magazines, like most everyone, but this had been different. This had been more private, as if he had been spying on his fellow drivers during their most intimate moments. He had just seen them laugh and cry, moan and groan, hurt and love. He’d watched them be kissed, abused, punched, licked, sucked and fucked. Giedo got up and opened a window, letting the cool breeze caress his skin. It’s just words on a page, he reminded himself, just the figment of someone’s imagination.
Giedo went to bed, hoping the few hours of darkness left would be enough sleep. Tomorrow was Thursday and there was the media circus to go through, including a drivers’ press conference.
The morning arrived way too soon for Giedo, who had to hit snooze about four times before rolling out of bed and into the shower. He had fallen asleep fairly quickly, but his sleep had been disturbed by several dreams. In the first, Fernando and Mark had him tied to a chair while he watched them have sex. The next had been of Jenson, coming to him for comfort in the form of a kiss, the press of his lips feeling so real. The last one had been of Charles. Giedo had dreamt of Charles before, so that wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was the intensity of the dream. They had been kissing, Charles’s arms around him, a hand on his ass while the other was running through his hair. Charles was moaning sweet nothings in French, or at least he thought it was French. It always amazed him that he could dream in another language and yet not understand any of it. But, in his dream, it made perfect sense. The words Charles uttered between kisses were music to his ears. Their bodies were warm, pressed comfortably together like this was a typical thing. When their eyes had met, Charles was looking at him with the kind of love and desire that fills you up with an unexplainable warmth and joy, the kind that makes you feel like you’re the most precious person in the world, the kind that makes you smile regardless of whether you want to or not.
Giedo put a hand against the shower wall to steady himself. While he had been reliving his dream, he had been vigorously washing his privates.
The dream hadn’t stopped there, though he wished it had. Out of nowhere had appeared Dan and Jev, naked and holding hands. Jev had called out to Charles, waving him over. Charles had then kissed him on the lips tenderly, a final goodbye of sorts, before turning around and leaving with them, never looking back. Giedo was screaming, running after him until he was out of breath from running and yelling. That’s how he had woken up; covered in sweat and gasping for air. He had fallen asleep again, but the dream had remained firmly imprinted in his mind.
Giedo finished himself off in the shower, the warm water washing away soap and come alike as he found some peace of mind from the rush of release.
~
Most of the drivers were already there when he arrived, making small talk in the large lounge before the press conference. Giedo settled sideways in a sofa chair, laptop in hand. He couldn’t help but look at his peers differently this morning. He found himself noticing details he would normally never have seen. Things like how Sebastian always whispered in Kimi’s ear even if no one was listening, or how squished together Felipe and Rob stood, even when there was lots of space around. Why was Rob here anyways? Giedo didn’t remember the engineers being invited.
He shook his head as he powered up his laptop from sleep mode, his last browsing session still open. He moved the cursor to the X but held off on clicking. Reading these stories was starting to play with his head. Things were much simpler when he could look at Mark without hearing him scream “Nando!!” in his head, or when he could look at Charles, who was now walking towards him, without feeling high from the connection he had felt in his dream or broken from the rejection that had followed.
“Hi! How are you?” his teammate asked in his usual quiet voice, sitting in the sofa just next to Giedo’s.
“Tired,” Giedo replied, a little sharper than he had intended, so he smiled at Charles to let him know it wasn’t against him. Charles seemed content with that and just settled in his seat, playing with his phone.
Giedo was still staring at his browser. He knew he should close it and forget it existed, but something was still nagging at him. He had spent hours reading last night, and yet his name had only come up once. It had only been a few lines, him fucking Seb. But in the story Seb was getting fucked by the whole grid, and Giedo’s name had almost been last on the list. It was silly, and Giedo knew he really shouldn’t care. Just words on a page, he reminded himself, but he still felt left out, like maybe he wasn’t good enough to play in the same league as the rest of the guys. Wow, this thing was really getting to him, Giedo realized.
So he re-read the story about Seb being a mermaid, making him chuckle and feel a little better…until he started thinking he would have made just as good, if not better, a merman as Seb. He sighed loudly, causing Charles to turn to him. “What’s wrong?” he asked with concern.
“Do you think I’m ugly?” Giedo asked. Charles looked at him a little confused, but seeing Giedo was being serious, answered him best he could. “No. You are handsome. Remember in Monaco? Everyone said you should be a model. No one said that about me.”
Giedo stared back at his screen. If it wasn’t his looks, then what was it? Heck, compared to him, Charles was getting some action left, right and center. He’d read at least three stories about the French guys having orgies. Then there was Seb. It seemed like every second story was about Seb. Vettel was a virtual slut.
“What’s going on?” Charles asked him, not ready to let Giedo’s question slide. Giedo knew he was being ridiculous. Just words on a page. But this would keep him distracted all weekend if he didn’t come to terms with it, and after all, the French were open to this kind of stuff, right?
He turned his computer screen towards Charles. “It’s this. These stories. About F1, about us,” he explained quietly so no one else would hear. “Well, about everyone but me. It’s like I’m not good enough.” Charles read for a minute before looking up at Giedo, an amused look on his face. “Kink fanfics?” he asked with a knowing smile. Giedo nodded, now curious. “You know this?”
“I’ve read some, yes. Not for F1, but for other things. And you are worried because no one writes about you?” Giedo winced as he nodded again. It sounded even stupider than he felt when Charles said it out loud. “You are too normal,” Charles explained nonchalantly as if he were talking about the weather. “Hot, but normal. The writers, the fans, they need something to inspire them.”
Giedo just looked at Charles, processing the information. Charles took the silence as a cue to continue and he tilted his head towards Rosberg. “Have you seen all the stuff online about Nico? Fans love him. Britney, Princess. He has a certain something, an attitude. In French, we say a je ne sais quoi. You understand?”
Giedo raised an eyebrow. He thought he might understand, but he was not sure what the big deal with Nico was. Giedo always considered himself a fashionable guy, so he didn’t really see the difference. Charles saw his hesitance so looked for another example. “Romain and Sergio. Sometimes they drive okay, but often, they crash, make other drivers angry. It’s good for fics. It’s their je ne sais quoi.” Giedo looked at Charles, incredulous. He started to think nothing Charles said would be useful. “I will not start crashing with people on purpose!” Charles gave him a stern look, but being patient and polite like he was, he gave it another shot. The easiest example he could find: “Rob and Felipe. What do you see?”
Giedo shrugged. “They work together. Seem to be good friends.” Charles pushed a little further. “What does Rob call Felipe?” Giedo thought for a second. “Felipe…and sometimes baby. And sunshine I think too.” Charles nodded, “And would you call a friend that?” Giedo shook his head. “No, it’s too personal.”
Charles leaned closer to Giedo to whisper to him. “And look at how they stand together: always so close, hands brushing against the other, faces only centimeters apart. Look how they smile when their eyes meet. Would you be like that with a friend?” Giedo turned to look at Charles, who was still leaned into him. With you I would, he thought, biting on his lip to hold the words in. All he could think about with Charles so close was the dream he had, coming back to him now he could smell his teammate’s cologne and feel his breath against his skin. “No, not with a friend,” he forced himself to say. He had to get rid of the tension, so went back to the discussion at hand.
“So your je ne sais quoi, it’s being the young innocent and corruptible one,” Giedo teased, “it’s what the stories about you say.”
“I’m not innocent,” Charles replied, a faux disgraced look on his face as he grabbed the laptop from Giedo and started looking through some fics for his name.
“Prove it, show me,” Giedo blurted out before he could stop himself. Charles looked up from the laptop, mouth slightly open as he flushed a bit. Giedo regretted it already; Charles really did look innocent.
“You really want people to write about you, to be in these stories, in the media? It matters to you a lot?” Charles asked him, ignoring his comment. Giedo thought for a second. It did matter to him, in a weird way. It wasn’t about the fics themselves though. It was more about him standing out as an individual, about being more than normal, about having a life interesting enough for someone to want to write about it. “It matters,” he confirmed.
Charles smiled at that, giving Giedo back his laptop as he stood up to join the rest of the drivers filing to get into the press conference room. “You trust me?” Charles asked him. “Yes, you more than anyone else,” he answered, packing his things away and following Charles. As they walked into the room already packed with journalists, Giedo felt Charles’s hand slide against his and their fingers intertwine. He felt his hand being squeezed gently, and he squeezed back. He heard murmurs from the media, but kept his head forward, following Charles’s lead.
Charles let go of his hand as they sat down next to each other. Giedo was sure his face was completely red, though no one made mention of it or of the hand holding. The rest of the conference was the normal, mostly boring, procedure. When they had made their way outside, there was still a crowd of journalists and photographers around trying to get exclusive interviews with the more popular drivers. Giedo was pulled to the side by Charles. “What I will do now, I need you to know it is for you but it is for me too,” Charles told him. The next instant Giedo had Charles’s arms around his neck and the Frenchman’s lips against his, soft and warm. Giedo let himself be immersed in the moment; hearing the quiet sounds Charles made between kisses, tasting the tangy mint of his breath and feeling the escalating desire until they finally parted, both men breathing heavily. Only then did Giedo become aware that absolutely everyone was now staring at them, camera and microphone waiting. “I think that’ll do it,” Charles whispered, looking at him. But Giedo didn’t hear him. All he heard was the thump of his own heart. He didn’t care about the fact that their kiss would become the hottest news in F1. He didn’t care that the other drivers had to form a protective barrier with their bodies to prevent the press from crushing him. All he cared about was the look in Charles’s eyes; the same one Charles had in the first part of his dream. “Charles, I…” Giedo began before Charles shook his head. “Pas ici,” Charles said before leading Giedo away from the media, letting the press know there would be no comments.
Not here had turned into not at all. They had gone to their respective hotel rooms without talking about what had happened. Giedo was lying on his bed, computer open beside him. What if the chemistry had all been in his head? What if Charles was just trying to be nice, to help him out? He decided to distract himself and pulled up the kink meme. He smiled when he scrolled to two pictures of him and Charles, the first one of them kissing and the next just post-kiss. The photographer must have been standing behind him because the angle showed Charles’s face but not his. Giedo read the accompanying caption: “OMG someone please write this!!! They look so in love!” Giedo smiled. So it wasn’t just his imagination. The buzz of his phone caught his attention: a text from Charles.
“Mission accomplished” the text read, “want to give them more?” came another quickly after. Charles must have been keeping an eye on the fandom, Giedo thought.
He pondered how best to answer.
“No. They had enough.”
“Oh” was Charles’s short reply.
“But I want more,” Giedo wrote. He watched his phone anxiously. He watched the icon change as Charles wrote. Then stopped. Then wrote. Then stopped. No message came. He got up and paced around his room, clutching his phone and looking at it every few seconds. Still nothing. A knock at the door startled him.
He opened the door to reveal Charles standing in front of him, so he invited him in. “I want more too,” his teammate admitted as he launched himself at Giedo, kissing him passionately and kicking the door closed behind them. Not just words on a page after all, was Giedo’s last thought before his mind focused on the wonderful sensation of Charles’s skin against his.
.