Mark was stumbling down the podium in a rush of emotions. He had made a pole to podium finish this season right here in Monaco and Sebastian had been chasing the hell out of him for most of the time but couldn’t get past and ended up finishing second. The entire garage was in uproar and it felt as if the party would last at least until the next morning, properly accompanied by a terrible hangover. Sebastian’s hand was holding his own dragging him down the stairs of the podium a beaming smile on his boyish face. A smile Mark imagined was just for him and his victory. His heart was beating harsh against his ribs before they were torn apart and dragged off to different parts of the press pen, swallowed in the mass of reporters Mark found himself facing interview after interview. He couldn’t wipe the smile of his face even if his hand felt empty. He tried to recall the warmth of Sebastian’s fingers closed around his own. A gesture of gratitude and so much more to the Aussie. He rubbed his cheek thoughtfully, feeling the stubble under his fingertips as they rushed at him with all sort of questions. It lasted for one hour before he could get back to the garage, still in his sweaty racing suit, the damp scent of podium champagne clinging to his soaked clothes and penetrating all his senses. The adrenalin still buzzing around his body as he followed Seb and Britta up the stairs to the top of their motorhome.
The big wooden terrace already packed with people and yet more press and camera’s. The entire world’s eye was on them. Congratulations were shouted at them from all around as they made their way past some important people and most of all the entire team had gathered and hands were shaken. It didn’t took long for it to escalate rather quickly as Seb was pushed into the pool by his physio and Christian who were laughing widely as Seb managed to drag his physio inside along with him. Climbing out the German was smiling over to him. Mark was aware of that from the corner of his eye as he was yet answering more questions about the race on the street circuit to Martin Brundle from Sky Sports.
Shaken out of concentration he realized that Seb had took hold of his arm and was trying to push him inside but Mark refused to let the kid have it and took hold of a pole to steady himself, which only resulted in Mark throwing Martin Brundle inside the cold water who looked rather surprised over the sudden shower he received. Seb pouted clearly appealed to get his will and tore Mark away and over to the fun part of their party as the music was playing loudly and it was rather hard to understand each other nor talk to each other anyway. The DJ was playing “We are the champions.” by Queen and a few people were dancing to it, while the rest of the team still stood alongside the pool raising their fists in the air in the pure after bliss of the victory.
Seb tried again to get Mark inside smiling ever so cheekily but he lost yet again and Mark couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The almost feather like touches combined with enough force to pull him off his Nomex shoes was making his skin tingle in delight. He beamed down at wet Seb in the pool winking slightly, before abandoning the interview, taking the trophy from Adrian Newey, who patted him on the back like a very proud dad. Mark raised it above his head letting out a scream of relief and prise for Red Bull Racing that left himself breathless and slightly lightly headed as he grinned cheekily over to Seb in the pool who pouted but made no attempt to climb out.
Mark winked at him, steadying his weight on the slippery wood at the edge of the pool, taking a deep breath before doing a back flip right into the cold water, splashing everyone in the process. The world swirled past him as he curled in on himself to avoid banging his head on the tiles that littered the floor of the pool. He felt himself sinking down to the ground, the water engulfing him, soaking into his Nomex underwear and racing suit without effort. His cap wet and lost somewhere among the process. He smiled, holding his breath, opening his eyes to watch the clear blue sky through the waters surface. Instead of the clouds he was expecting to see, he gazed into Seb’s clear blue eyes, as his team mate smiled into his face, their lips touching for merry seconds as the German pulled him up, eyes closing, eyelashes wet and long sinking onto his boyish cheeks as he and Mark pushed to the surface not stopping the kiss and listened to the abrupt silence that greeted them as they resurfaced from the cold soothing body of water before the entire team broke out into cheers and everyone around them was pushed or jumped into the pool.
They parted for the lack of oxygen highly flushed and gazing into each others eyes with a mixture of longing, love and surprise. They communicated without words for a matter of seconds before they were forced flush against each others chest by Christian, Adrian and other people of the Red Bull Racing team who cheered for them as they simply took the change and fussed their lips together again. Someone was yelling into Marks ear: “Finally!” which echoed his thoughts perfectly.
He hold onto Sebastian so tightly, his arms wrapped around his waist, he was afraid he might leave bruises behind, but there was no rejection to Mark’s hold on the younger boy, indeed Seb was pushing his luck by forcing his tongue into Mark’s mouth who gasped and felt as if someone had put him on fire. If they wouldn’t have a party right now and wouldn’t be accompanied by a load of excited people he would drag him down over to his room downstairs and strip away all the layers of Nomex, before getting lost in the boy he admired since the day he walked into the garage.