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He was itching for a fight. The violence bubbled under his skin in a way that made him want to jump in place and shake out his fists like a boxer, but that would do him no good, Sebastian had learned from a young age that he would never be big enough to hurt anyone with his fists, that was why he had developed such a smart mouth. The mood in their garage was subdued, despite the music, despite everyone trying to act as if nothing had happened, Seb saw the glances. The guys from Mark’s side who shot him judgmental looks over the rim of their cups. Even Christian, fuck, telling him, “You know you’re better than him, this was unnecessary, it makes you look like a child.”
Didn’t they like it when Sebastian acted the big kid? Wasn’t that fun for everyone? Good for the audience, good TV? Bernie told him not really, he wasn’t as well-liked as Michael, nor as well-hated. “Why not?” Seb had asked. Bernie had told him, “I think he was perceived as more of a man’s man, even if he dressed like a faggot. Maybe even because of that, who’s to say?” And then he shrugged and left after groping Seb’s ass.
Whatever. It wasn’t like anyone was tuning in to watch Mark race either. He took a sip of his drink and stepped outside the garage and looked down the pitlane at the Mercedes garage, the lights were still on there too, but the mood was even more subdued than at Red Bull. Seb was used to just strolling in to hang out with Michael. No Michael now, just his sour-faced replacement, who Sebastian had last seen pouting on the podium, saying his teammate should be up there instead. Idiot. That was the thing about Lewis, he was too nice, it got on Seb’s nerves because it didn’t suit him. A guy like that shouldn’t have to put on that kind of act. Sebastian didn’t. Which was why Christian’s and Helmut’s admonishment now grated on him. They did nothing but blow hot air up his ass, and now they were complaining that Seb was too puffed up? Fuck them.
He was itching for a fight, but there were plenty of ways to get one. He took two beer bottles from the crate on the floor and made his way over to Mercedes, walking lazily, waving at everyone who waved at him with the hand holding the two bottles. Inside, a silly banner hung across the rafters, “Congrats Lewis on your first Mercedes podium” but no one was celebrating, the crew were already packing. Lewis was off to one side, talking with his engineers it looked like, and Nico was hovering all the way across the garage, pretending he had something to do. Sebastian strolled inside and hugged Lewis from behind, shaking his shoulders. “Congrats, Mr. Mercedes,” he said, smiling when Lewis turned those huge startled eyes on him. “Here,” he handed Lewis one of the beer bottles, and clicked it together with his when he took it. “First of many, I’m sure.”
“Thanks, man,” Lewis said, taking a sip, lashes lowered over his eyes and cheeks dimpling. The bashful/brazen dichotomy Lewis had going on did it for Seb. It made him want to rile him up, tease him until he snapped, or gave in and showed his belly, either way Seb would pounce.
He slung one arm over Lewis’ shoulder and raised his bottle to the engineers. “Good race, boys, sorry I didn’t bring you anything, but you know, only two hands. You should stop by our garage and get yourselves a drink, though.” He looked around pointedly. “Not much of a party over here, I wonder why.”
He knew Nico could hear him, so he didn’t bother looking towards him. If he thought Sebastian was going to play nice with him now that Michael wasn’t around anymore he had another thing coming. He had fond memories of coming in for a chat with Michael but looking in Nico’s direction every third sentence just to make him think they were talking about him. Good times.
Michael wasn’t here, but maybe Seb could teach Lewis a thing or two about keeping a teammate on his toes. He could maybe, even, bait Nico into that fight he wanted. If Nico was man enough to fight for what was his.
He bumped shoulders into Lewis and lowered his voice. “Hey, is there somewhere we can talk? There’s something I need to tell you.”
Lewis shot him a puzzled look, trying to figure out what Sebastian was getting at, but after a short deliberation he nodded. “Yeah, follow me.”
Sebastian did, bidding the engineers goodbye with his half-empty beer bottle. He followed Lewis, one arm still slung over his shoulder, but just as they were about to walk out of the garage and into Mercedes’ administrative offices, Sebastian turned around and met Nico’s eyes, who he knew would be watching them. He tipped his head back with a wink and squeezed Lewis’ shoulder harder. Keep looking, champion’s son, and watch what I do with your boyfriend.
Maybe Lewis had an inkling what Sebastian was up to because he kept leading them deeper and deeper into the engineering offices until the noise of the pitlane was barely a hum. He elbowed open a door and walked inside. An empty office, two desks pushed together, a pile of chairs, but no computers or other machinery. Seb raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry but Lewis just stared at him, arms crossed in front of his team shirt.
“So, what did you want to say?”
“What you said on the podium, about Nico deserving to be up there, would you have said that about Jenson too, or does Nico get special treatment because he’s fucking you?”
Lewis was frozen in place, eyes wide and mouth half-open on some word that didn’t want to come out, he looked like a frozen screen, and Sebastian didn’t hold back from laughing in his face. “I’m sorry, was it supposed to be a secret?”
Lewis’ lips tightened into a grim line. “Michael?”
“Not much escapes him, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“Which one?”
“Come on, Lewis, you don’t really believe he should have been up there, you held that position the entire race.”
“If he could overtake me then he should have, I had to lico to save fuel, if he didn’t then well…”
“Then he should be glad he didn’t get screwed over by strategy like you did,” Seb said, pointing towards Lewis with the beer bottle. This was annoying him more than he thought. “Don’t be nice. I always thought you were too nice to Jenson, you should have made a fuss to keep Heikki as your teammate.”
Lewis leaned back against the table and set down his bottle. He met Seb’s eyes with an amused look from under his lashes. “You think I didn’t try, man?” He shook his head. “I wish my life was as easy as yours.”
Seb took two steps towards Lewis and set his own bottle next to his. He wasn’t crowding him in, but they were close. “Making your own life easy inside a team is a skill too, don’t think I don’t work for it.”
Lewis lifted his chin and gave Seb one of those looks that fell into the ‘brazen’ category, no softness in his eyes now. “You have an advantage, a running start.”
Sebastian shrugged, he knew what Lewis meant. “And some guys are born rich on top of being white, and I still got out ahead of them, and so did you.” He caught Lewis’ wrist in a fist and pinned it down on the tabletop, bringing their faces closer together. “Just stop being mister niceguy, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Yeah? You know a lot about what suits me, do you?” His tone was dismissive, but his gaze was fixed on Seb’s lips.
Seb licked them. “What do you see in that guy? I thought at first you were fucking him, but Michael said it was the other way around. Can he even give it to you hard? Or is he too afraid he’ll break a nail, mess up his hair?”
He wanted to see what Lewis would say to that, if he would defend Nico, call Seb a twat, dare him to prove he was any better or even storm out in a huff, but instead he fixed Sebastian with a level gaze and a smirk. “You and Michael talk about me and Nico fucking often? That’s what gets the two of you going?”
Seb’s grin widened, he wanted to lean forward and take a bite out of Lewis. “We don’t need much to get us going, but sure, we talk.”
Actually, Seb talked, about Lewis, all the time, he kept track of him during the race like he didn’t with any other driver. He was always asking Rocky for updates on Lewis’ pace, whether he was p1 or p10, Lewis was the only driver Seb cared about going faster than. Michael told him that was smart of him. “He’s the one to look out for, never let him out of your sight.” And Seb didn’t, he’d joked once, “I only have eyes for him and for you.” Michael had thrown his head back with that raspy laugh of his and ruffled Seb’s sweaty hair. “Yeah? Well, your boyfriend has wandering eyes, it gives my teammate fits, even if he pretends not to care.”
And as always, Michael had been right, because here they were, and Lewis’ eyes were wandering all over him.
“I’m curious too,” Lewis said, his roving eyes having stilled on Seb’s lips once again, “do you fuck him, or does he fuck you?”
What a question, Seb chuckled and scratched his stubble. But the answer was easy. “Michael taught me everything I know, everything.” He leaned forward, palms flat on the tabletop on each side of Lewis’ hips, leaving him no quarter. “Want me to show you?”
Instead of an answer Lewis kissed him, one hand tight over the back of his neck, another holding his jaw in place. Seb returned the kiss eagerly, pushing a knee between Lewis’ legs and forcing him to widen his stance. It was messy and inelegant, and a little boozy from the beer and Seb wanted more of it. One of his hands left the table to grope Lewis’ ass, trying to worm itself below the waistband of his jeans and feel skin with no success, but he was undeterred. A little making out and Sebastian was hard as nails, Michael loved teasing him about being a fast starter; but Lewis’ was no different, Seb could feel the hard line of his cock straining against his jeans where Lewis ground himself against his knee, just as desperate.
“Eager aren’t you?” Seb said, pulling away from Lewis’ lips with a gasp. He undid Lewis’ fly one-handed and took his cock in hand with a hiss. “I guess Britney is a lion on the radio and absolutely nowhere else.”
“Stop talking about Nico,” Lewis said, biting the edge of Seb’s jaw and canting his hips up into Seb’s fist, chasing the rough friction of his palm.
It wasn’t that Seb wanted to talk about him, but he wanted him to be a part of this too, it was more fun for Sebastian if he won. Always. He’d won the race, because he was the better driver, and now he was going to win Nico’s boyfriend because he was the better man. He pushed Lewis down on the table with a hand on his chest and climbed half on top of him. Lewis’ knee collided with the two beer bottles and sent them toppling to the floor. They rolled on the concrete floor and disappeared under the table, gurgling beer in an arc. Seb hoped Nico had heard the commotion all the way in the garage and came investigate.
Lewis’ eyes were glazed and overwhelmed, like he couldn’t believe he was letting this happen here. Seb couldn’t believe it either, which was why he was in a hurry to seal the deal before Lewis changed his mind. He pushed the Mercedes team shirt under Lewis’ chin and rubbed his tight, dark, nipples with the pad of his thumbs, admiring how it made Lewis hiss and turn his face to the side. He gasped when Seb latched on to the right one, and tried to push his head away but Seb held him in place, threatening to bite down if he didn’t behave.
He had showered and changed after the race, and his skin tasted fresh and clean. Seb hadn’t bothered, he was still wearing his sweaty, champagne-soaked overalls, and Lewis was so hot for him that he didn’t even mind, a guy who wouldn’t sit down on a chair if it was a little dusty. Seb worked Lewis’ jeans and underwear down his legs, and rolled down his overalls only enough to get his own cock out. Lewis’ shot him a look from below half-lidded eyes like he wasn’t sure what Seb thought he was going to do.
Seb spat on his palm and slicked up his cock to make it obvious, but when he pushed up Lewis’ legs towards his chest to do the same to his hole, Lewis tried to close them with a yelp. “What the hell, man? We don’t have any lube, no condoms… no way.”
Michael often told Sebastian he could charm the habit off a nun, this wasn’t quite as dire, but Lewis could be prickly. Sebastian rubbed a hand down Lewis’ smooth thigh, and smiled at him, poking his tongue out like it was all in good fun. “Come on, don’t be like that, no need to get fancy either.” He held his cock in his fist and rubbed the slick head against the back of Lewis’ thigh. “I’m not that big, you can take it.”
“That’s a new one, what happened to ‘just the tip’?” Despite his derisive tone, he was smiling, and Sebastian counted it as a win. Before Lewis could find some other smart remark, Seb sucked his thumb into his mouth, and brought it against Lewis’ tight rim, just testing the give.
“I don’t need the classics,” he said, pushing past the resistance, watching Lewis bite his bottom lip and let him do as he wanted. “I’m an original.”
Lewis rolled his eyes at him, mocking him at first, but he kept them rolled back once Seb’s thumb popped inside his hole, and held him there, open, like a bookmark. He did what he’d planned to before Lewis stopped him, and spat, rubbing the white froth inside, and around Lewis’ rim. He let go of Lewis’ knee to guide his cock into his hole, where his thumb was making room for him.
Lewis hissed, and his abdomen bunched with the strain, Seb petted his chest, flicking a nipple in passing. “Shh, shh, it’s all good, almost there.” He thrust up and buried himself to the root, sighing in relief. “That’s all of it, good boy, good job.”
“Bastard,” Lewis said, through gritted teeth, but his cock was still hard, and dripping steadily onto his stomach, so Seb didn’t take it to heart.
He pulled Lewis’ by the hips to the edge of the table to make it more comfortable to fuck into him. Lewis’ skinny ankles locked around his middle, and Seb took it as encouragement to drive into him hard. He was so hot and tight inside, it was a real struggle not to blow his load with the first few thrusts, but then he would never live it down. It was fine to be a quick shot with Michael who liked teasing him as much as he liked indulging him, but he wanted to make a good first impression on Lewis. He didn’t want to miss out on being invited to a repeat performance by being too eager.
That was a tall order, though, when Lewis kept biting his lower lip and giving Seb those instigating looks from below his lashes. Seb wanted to crawl on top of him and kiss him blind, but they didn’t have the room for it, so instead he rolled one of his nipples between thumb and forefinger, just to watch him squirm and gripped the meat of his ass with his other hand to drive his cock into his pliant hole. It clung to him so hotly whenever he pulled back that Seb wondered, almost crazed, if Lewis was squeezing him on purpose on the outstroke; he looked too overcome for something that deliberate, but perhaps it was to be expected that Lewis would be a naturally phenomenal fuck.
Seb had fantasized about this moment so much that now he felt as if it was happening to another, luckier man. He squeezed Lewis’ nipple harder but that only resulted in a pained moan, Seb wanted to hear his name.
“Feels good getting fucked by a champion, doesn’t it?” He asked, punctuating his words with a mean thrust that had Lewis’ keening and his cock weeping a thick string of pearly fluid onto his belly.
As sexy as Lewis’ sex noises were, they weren’t an answer, so Seb fucked up into him again, and held there, grinding into him, letting his hungry hole milk him. “Doesn’t it?”
“Y-Yes.” Lewis’ reached for Seb, clutching weakly at the hand over his tit, canting his hips to try and get him to keep fucking him. “Feels amazing.”
Sebastian nearly bit through his tongue to stop himself from coming right there. What a scene, what a little whore. “Who’s making you feel good?”
Lewis’ blinked up at him slowly, and then his bitten lips parted around the word in a moan. “Sebastian.”
Seb cursed under his breath and fucked into him hard, snapping his hips against the back of Lewis’ thighs until the flesh rippled. He cupped a hand around Lewis’ jaw, thumb pressing into the centre of Lewis’ full bottom lip. “It feels incredible to fuck a champion too.” Lewis’ eyes met his and his hole tightened almost painfully, Seb crawled a hand between their abdomens and jerked off Lewis’ straining cock roughly, he was so hard and so close it only took a few strokes to have him shooting off. Seb kept looking down into his eyes as it happened, watched them grow even wider and then shutter, as his insides contracted and squeezed and milked Seb’s cock until he was coming too; so intensely his vision whited out and the world tilted sideways, dropping him on top of Lewis’ like a puppet with its strings cut.
Lewis’ trembling hands came around his nape and the back of his head, and Seb felt grateful for the grounding touch. “I wanted to cum the moment I stuck my cock inside you, fuck, Lewis.”
Seb could feel Lewis’ laughter through his own ribcage, it was a funny feeling. “I could sort of tell, you looked out of it.”
“Shut up, you were the one making like fucking, sex kitten noises.”
“Sex kitten? What the fuck is that.”
Sebastian didn’t have the energy to explain himself, instead he planted a sticky, wet kiss on the side of Lewis’ neck, and pulled his softening cock out of him. They both got dressed in companionable, if sheepish silence. Seb tried to be a gentleman and offered up his fireproof shirt for Lewis to wipe himself clean with, but Lewis just batted his hand away with a curse.
Neither of them knew what to say in the awkward aftermath of intimacy. It was Lewis who broke the standstill with a hug, which made Seb’s chest squeeze painfully for some reason. “Thanks for cheering me up, I enjoyed myself.”
Seb buried a chuckle into the side of his head, and pulled away to give Lewis a proper goodbye kiss. “You can call me whenever you need cheering up again, I’ll come running.”
They agreed that Lewis should leave first while Sebastian waited some five minutes to follow. He leaned against the edge of the table while smiling to himself, happy to spend the time reliving what had just happened, thinking about how he would tell it to Michael. He would embellish Lewis’ sex kitten noises, he would tell Michael he had to gag him to stop him from screaming the whole garage down.
The office door clicked open and Seb lifted his head expecting to find Lewis returning because he couldn’t leave without kissing him some more, instead he came face-to-face with a red-eyed Nico Rosberg.
“You need to have everything, don’t you? You have three championships, everyone is saying that you’re going to win it again this year, and it’s not enough for you, is it?”
Seb pushed away from the table and walked up to Nico, he was a couple of centimetre’s taller than him, but Nico was broader. But only one of them smelled of sex with Lewis, so Seb grinned at him, all teeth. “You know what’s the difference between us? I don’t ask the team for what I want, I go and get it. And that’s why I have three championships, and will get a fourth, and had your boyfriend moaning on my cock just moments ago.”
A muscle jumped in Nico’s jaw, and for a moment Seb thought he would punch him, but then the heat died down behind his eyes, doused by sadness.
“He did it just to hurt me, you don’t matter at all to him.”
Seb shrugged. “Maybe, but now he knows who to go to when he wants to hurt you again.”
He walked past Nico and patted him on the shoulder, who didn’t even flinch away from his hand. Seb left the room and whistled to himself as he walked down the hallway and back towards the garage. His day had improved considerably. Who the fuck were Mark and Nico? Nobodies. Michael had taught Seb to never settle for less than what he deserved, and what he wanted were world championship trophies on his shelves and world champions in his bed, everything else was white noise.