Yeah. Right. Fic.
Not sure how to call this, not sure how to rate this, no idea about the word count, no idea what I did and how I did it. Anyway.
Basically, overexcited kids high on adrenaline and winning getting carried away a bit… and having to deal with the consequences.
(Read: Checo Pérez/Esteban Gutiérrez, being their adorable fluffy selves, with a bit of angst thrown in for good measure. Angst makes everything better.)
Written for a prompt on motorskink and beta’d by airrunner (thanks again)!! =) Oh, and maybe I should mention the facts that they’re not mine, none of this has ever happened and I don’t mean to do any harm by this.
Feedback is always appreciated.
Enjoy!! ;D
At first you have no idea what is going on. Everything is a blur, a whirlwind of emotions and impressions.
Cheering crowds.
Champagne.
Hugs.
Seconds, stretching into eternities.
Questions.
Intense focus.
The weight of the trophy
Overflowing joy, heart-stopping relief.
But what you remember most is Esteban.
A wide grin.
Sparkling eyes.
A heart-stopping touch.
“I’m so proud of you.”
Skin on skin.
A hand in your hair.
Softest lips.
A kiss.
Tears.
“I love you.”
It takes a while until you realise just what has happened. And it hits you almost as hard as a slap in the face. Knocks the air out of your lungs. Makes your heart stop and your body freeze.
“…did I really win my first race today?”, you whisper, still a bit incredulous, your lips brushing softly over the skin of Esteban’s chest. You feel Esteban chuckle in reply, before the younger boy shifts a bit to put an arm around your shoulders. “Damn right you did,” Esteban whispers back, pressing a soft kiss to your hair.
You stay like that for a while, resting your head on Esteban’s chest, listening to the heartbeat of your lover and his steady breaths, trying to sort out the emotional hurricane in your mind; and Esteban holds you close and tight, gently stroking your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down. It’s peacefully quiet, your breaths and distant street noise the only sounds, until you speak again.
“…and I really kissed you in front of everyone…?”
It’s more of a rhetorical question, as the memories become clearer and clearer.
You remember getting out of the car, taking your helmet off, running over to throw yourself into the arms of your crew, and then into the arms of Esteban, who holds you tightly, happy tears glittering in the corners of his eyes, screaming “I’m so proud of you!!” over the noisy cheers that surround you; his lips brushing over your ear and that simple touch drowns everything else out; high on joy and adrenaline, all you want to do is to touch Esteban as well, and you do, first placing a stealthy kiss on Esteban’s neck just where you know he’s most sensitive, and the shiver that you feel running down Esteban’s body makes you want more, more, and forgetting everything except the heavenly taste of Esteban’s skin your lips move up, across Esteban’s neck, along his jaw where a tiny bit of stubble scratches your lips, you want more, right now, and then finally you find Esteban’s lips and you’d kiss him like there’s no tomorrow if it wasn’t for Fernando not so gently tapping your shoulder, reminding you of the fact that you’re actually not alone and that there’s a podium ceremony waiting, and for Lewis who just laughs and pats your back, telling you to save it for later… but that is all quickly pushed aside by the look on Esteban’s face as he mouths ‘I love you’ when you stand on top of the podium: a mix of pride, joy, adoration, a bit of awe and something else that you doesn’t recognise at first.
You realise only now just what it is as Esteban shifts and turns to his side to face you: pure sincerity that you have hardly ever seen on your lover’s face. And it is only now that you realise just what an impact this kiss will have on your lives. It is only now that you remember the whistling and booing among the cheers, the awkward questions of the journalists, the disdainful and disgusted looks on people’s faces…
“Do you regret it?”, Esteban asks quietly, tearing you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the sincere look in those warm brown eyes that is now mixed with a vulnerability and insecurity that is almost painful to see.
You take your time to consider, the sincerely and honestly asked question deserves nothing less that a sincere and honest answer. Do you regret it? At first you think you might, the booing, the disgusted looks, the disrespectful questions flooding back into your mind. It won’t be easy to deal with that and you’re definitely going to have a hard time from now on, and it might even, no, it will be a serious threat to your careers… and suddenly another memory springs to your mind, a serious threat of a different kind: the accident in Monaco.
There’s Esteban, sitting next to your hospital bed, wearing that same insecure, worried, vulnerable look on his face, as he confessed that for a few seconds he had thought that he had lost you.
Then there’s Esteban again, this time smiling, telling you not to worry, that you’ll be back in the car soon. You remember Canada, how worried he had been when he heard about you not being able to drive, drowning out the anger about not being able to drive himself.
There’s Valencia, where Esteban has reassured you that it’s just a matter of time until you’ll have your old confidence back, where he scored his first GP2 win and you stayed up all night long celebrating together.
There’s Silverstone and that proud, smug ‘I-told-you-so’ grin after you’ve scored your first points after the accident, Japan, where he took care of you when you were sick… then countless memories from holidays during the summer break and the off-season, celebrating your podiums in Malaysia and Canada, thinking of how proud and happy he was for you, thinking of how much you already wanted to do that back then, how much you just wanted to kiss him right there and then, how many times you imagined what it would feel like, to kiss him right in front of everyone, not having to hide and lie and sneak around anymore…
“No…”, you say eventually, “I don’t regret it. You?”
Esteban lets out a deep breath and laughs relieved. “Never,” he replies sincerely, his smile back in place. “It won’t be easy… but we’ll get through this. I’ve already talked to Monisha and Peter, we’ve got their full support, that might make things a bit easier.”
Now it’s your turn to sigh relieved, you hadn’t even realised before how important their acceptance was for you.
“Good”, you whisper, curling up against Esteban’s chest again, resting your head against his shoulder, pressing soft kisses onto his skin until you hit that one sensitive spot on his neck again, there’s a moan and a shiver and before you can react Esteban is already all over you, pinning you down onto the mattress and kissing you passionately until the last of your doubts and regrets is gone.