Work Text:
Sebastian was not unfamiliar with hazing. There was the polite delivery of baby paraphernalia in front of cameras, and the following teasing hands putting the bib on, trying to force the bottle past his lips. The cheek pinching.
Formula 1 is a tactile sport. There’s no physicality between competitors on the track, so all the friendly aggression comes out around the paddock, hinting at both genuine affection and subtle ways of exerting dominance and playing mind games. Where you’re touched and how hard means the difference between a sincere “good job” and a passive aggressive “you’re my bitch”.
Sebastian is a social creature, one who loves language and people, and this tactile language, this communication about pecking order here on the grid is very much something else to conquer.
So, here he is, sitting in a blindfold, somewhere in Milton Keynes, waiting to see what Mark has in store for him.
Webber had seemed bemused by his duty to bring up his new teammate, only giving Sebastian the bare minimum information in a flat, above-it-all drawl. But the slap on the shoulder blade lingered just long enough for Sebastian to know Mark wasn’t entirely pissed off about this tradition.
It had been maybe twenty minutes of sitting here, mouthing at his cuticles, listening to something occasionally rustle or bang in a nearby room, before a door opened and a gruff voice beckoned him forward, along with a large callused hand pulled Sebastian’s away from his mouth.
The hand pulls Sebastian into the next room, which seems darker, even through the blindfold.
“Drink this first”, Mark commands, holding up a shot glass to Sebastian’s lips. The drink is sloppily downed, and Sebastian nearly gags at what appears to be Red Bull, vodka, and cream. The drink streams down his chin and onto his shirt.
“Strip”, Mark says in the same tone, not brooking any room for argument.
Sebastian shivers, shoulders tight. Are there any other people here? But he slowly pulls off the baggy Red Bull T-shirt hanging off his frame and nervously plays with his waistband.
“All of it”, Mark grumbles, but there’s a hint of heat, and another lingering touch to Sebastian’s shoulder that sears. He just has to trust Mark not to destroy him now.
It’s after getting nude that Mark again leads Sebastian around the room to what appears to be a bed or bench. Sebastian begins to get dizzy, feeling disoriented about which direction is up.
Sebastian feels very placid as he wakes up, there’s a large body draped half over him, placing something over his mouth that feels a lot like the dummy he’d had poked at his mouth a while ago, when everyone was teasing him for being the baby of the grid. He gently pulls it in between his lips, laving at rubber with his tongue, feeling something at the back of his head being adjusted. He hums before falling back under, groaning at a slight discomfort in his abdomen and a brewing headache.
Mark rouses him this time, stroking over his flank with large hands. “C’mon, Sebi”, there’s a warm, teasing lilt to his voice that Sebastian has never heard directed so fully towards himself before.
The blindfold has been removed, and Sebastian blinks awake to a dim room and silky red sheets, thankfully empty save for him and Mark. Mark has dressed down to just boxers, and is watching Sebastian intensely, like Sebastian’s a particularly intriguing set of telemetry data.
As he moves his hand to rub his ears shyly, Sebastian jolts up and Mark breaks into a smirk.
That– That is not Sebastian’s ear. That is a soft flap of warm fur and skin, one that just twitched at his touch. Sebastian nearly chokes around the soft gag in his mouth, scrambling to his feet to the other side of the bed, where there is a lit mirror.
Holy shit, was zur Hölle, holy shit, mein Gott is that me?
Now, Sebastian isn’t vain, per say, but there’s something terrifying for a race car driver to wake up and not look remotely fit for racing.
He’s got roan ears flicking out from his mop of hair, the gag has a well-made soft reddish muzzle with a boxy pink nose on it, and there appear to be small horns budding out of the top of his head. But more concerning is that he’s managed to put on what must be 15 kilos mostly around his hips and tummy and ass, though his limbs and face are also looking doughy. He is a cow, and he’s soft like a dairy cow, budding tits and all. He even has a tail with a tufty end.
Mark has slid across the bed, still smirking as he palms Sebastian’s more substantial ass. Sebastian can feel himself rapidly getting hard as Mark chuckles, “Cute, though a little unexpected. When DC had me, I was a bull. Maybe this means something about our personalities, that you end up a heifer”
Sebastian spluttered and coughed indignantly around the gag, drool running out around his mouth and a flush spreading down from his face to his tits. He glared at Mark, clambering over into the older man’s lap. He tilted his head, not willing to break eye contact at this point, and ground down with his wider hips straddling the brunet’s trim and lanky waist.
Mark groaned appreciatively, his large hands clamping down around Sebastian’s ribs and waist, unable to stay still as they stroked and pressed into the extra padding reflexively. Mark’s hands jerk suddenly as Sebastian and him time their hips rolling together perfectly, grinding burgeoning erections against one another.
Sebastian is about to start drooling in earnest around this gag, because Mark is clearly hung if he’s this big, not even full mast. He grumbles around the bit, lifting his hands to yank at the mouthpiece. The older man releases Sebastian’s waist to yank the hands away from the gag, saying, “Nah, cows don’t get to talk. I picked it out specially for you, since you never seem to keep from running your mouth”, and manages to smoothly roll Sebastian off his lap into the sheets while pinning the smaller, curvier man’s wrists down to the fabric. Sebastian is torn between wanting to scrabble his way up and whine in pleasure at the show of unabashed strength. As it is, he squeaks as his new tail is pinned awkwardly beneath an unfamiliar ass.
Mark pulls up, resting his weight back on his heels, staring heavily into Sebastian’s watering, glaring blue eyes. Sebastian wriggles, letting his tail swish out from under him into a more comfortable position, ears flicking and not looking away from Mark’s gaze.
The brunet sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, if you need it off, if I’m hurting you, double tap with a closed fist, or just flip me off, alright? I’m not reading it wrong here that you’ve been gagging for cock long before you got to Formula racing, huh?”
Sebastian’s glare was less convincing when he was whimpering and unable to control the jerk of his hips at the last statement, nodding affirmative to both the directions and the accusation.
Deciding this was good enough, Mark shoves himself down the red sheets and begins mouthing around Sebastian’s dick, his stubble rubbing against the soft, tender skin and leaving Sebastian’s thighs with a pleasant burn with each bob and scrape. Sebastian whimpers again, hips swiveling around, trying to find some relief, when Mark finally engulfed the younger man in his warm mouth, taking in the length easily.
More drool spills out around the gag as Sebastian huffs and cants his pelvis up, Mark’s long nose pressing into the soft lower belly chub and wiry light brown curls there. Just as the heat building in Sebastian’s tummy starts to get just right, Mark pulls off and dips lower, mouthing sloppily at Sebastian’s balls and perineum, causing Sebastian’s watery eyes to fly back open, then grind down into the suction.
Just when Sebastian feels like they’re getting into a rhythm where he’s almost lapping at the edges of an orgasm, Mark pulls away, digging his fingers into Sebastian’s newly plush waist and hips, taking his time to nip and pull at the extra flesh as he leaves dark purple hickeys all along the line of where the band of Seb’s boxer briefs would go.
Mark smirks, “So you’ll feel me for a few days after this, little cow”, then crawls back over Seb completely, bracketing the smaller man. Mark reaches in between them and tweaks Seb’s puffy pink nipple, raised on a pocket of flesh that Seb’s embarrassed isn’t all just this transformation making his chest this sensitive. He squeaks at the burn of the flick, and moans loudly when Mark rolls it between his big, rough finger and thumb.
The Aussie’s mouth is still messy from the cock sucking as he bends down to take the reddened nipple in between his teeth, and Sebastian humps up into the air, smacking into Mark’s thigh and pelvis with his little cock getting tacky and the friction of hitting Mark getting a little painful.
After he’s done abusing Seb’s tits to be raw and red, Mark scratches his stubble down Sebastian’s ribcage and stomach, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses all the way, till Seb’s quivering with tacky spit and sweat and trying not to blow his load then and there.
Mark eventually pulls out the lube, and begins prepping Sebastian in earnest, gently fucking his finger, then fingers in and out of Sebastian’s hole, careful not to stretch the younger man too hard or too fast, intensely watching Seb try not to writhe around in pleasure and anticipation.
“Look at you, huh? Can’t believe no one else has clocked you as gagging for cock, you’re practically begging to be someone’s bitch. The cow concoction doesn’t even hide how desperate you are to be fucked, you’re a cow and not a bull” Mark begins a litany of filth to Sbeastian, and all the younger man can do is chew at his gag in rage an embarrassment for being called a girl, and it’s not his fault some potion meant to haze him is humiliating him. Wasn’t it supposed to make him like this? Though he can’t picture Mark getting turned into a part milk cow. Maybe it meant something else that he looked like this.
Mark continues “me and DC had quite the duke out to figure out who was fucking who, that fucker managed to come prepared to wrangle me down, but you don’t even put up a fight, you little slut, you just need a cock in you too badly to think of trying to get on top”
Sebastian froze, then thrashed his legs, smacking Mark’s back, but Mark only chuckles and pins his body across Seb’s legs to keep up his fingers in the blond’s ass. He finally pulls out and slicks up his cock, and Sebastian can feel more drool dribble out around the gag as he slows his squirming and stares up at Mark with big, lurid, near-black blown out eyes, eyelashes clumped together from the beginning of tears.
Finally, finally, the older driver lines up and pushes into Sebastian’s ample ass, letting the younger feel out the intrusion for a few seconds before starting a punishing pace, lifting one fuzzy lithe leg to get better access and begin pounding in earnest.
Sebastian is making wet whimpers around the gag as best he can, getting tears and snot getting all over the muzzle and dripping down the sides on his face into his hairs and soaking the fur of his ears. Mark is huffing above him, digging his long fingers into Sebastian’s hips hard enough to bruise. “You’re going to think of this moment every time you see me around the paddock. You might walk around like a tease, flirting with everyone like it’s a sport itself, but it’s only me who's seen you like this”
Sebastian keens, letting out an explosive orgasm, the pride in himself for lasting this long tempered by coming untouched and to Mark’s possessiveness.
Mark follows not too long after, the thrusting of his hips getting erratic, then he’s releasing come in Seb’s ass, letting it spurt, then pulling his cock out, pushing the leaking come back in. “You’re a natural, Sebi, you’re so tight you’re holding onto my come so well” Mark praises, petting Seb’s flanks soothingly as Sebastian begins to cry, heaving sobs raising his raw, red chest in big jerks.
The older man gently takes Seb’s hand, forms a fist with his own larger one, and taps it against the blond’s as he sits up. “We’re done, little one”
Mark removes the gag, and gently gets up to turn the mirror back to Seb.
The ears are gone, and so is the tail and 15 extra kilos. To Mark’s confusion, Seb still sniffles, fat tears still rolling down his cheeks. Mark sits down next to the younger man, who just pulls his arms around him, and slumps into Mark’s arms.
Seb mutters, “I was a, uh, a virgin” through a raspy voice.
Mark stiffens. He just had gagged sex with a virgin.
Seb continues, “And I don’t think I would have wanted to lose it to anyone else, maybe not in any other, ah, circumstances”
Mark is gobsmacked, and can’t think of anything to say, but pulls the younger man infinitesimally closer, wondering how he miscalculated this badly and why this boy bends him so out of shape.
Close to a decade later, four championships later, and a lot of hate sex and frosty silences later, Mark throws caution to the wind: “the red suits you, y’know” with a wink, and Sebastian blushes. In a split second, they’re hurtling back toward each other, hoping they won’t collide this time.