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Brazil
Sunday November 25, 2012
It was the last race of the season. Sebastian and Alonso were going head for head, only a couple of points apart in the standings, but the championship fight was far from over.
The Brazilian grand prix was nothing more than a shit show. The rain poured down, leaving the track in a chaotic state.
Alonso qualified seventh, but the slippery conditions favored him. He finished the race in second position. It wasn’t enough to bring the championship home.
Sebastian started from fourth position, but his championship hopes plummeted during the chaotic first lap. His RB8 suffered significant chassis damage after being hit hard, causing him to drop to last place.
He climbed his way back up the grid, finishing the race in sixth place. He took home the championship by three points.
His team roared for him. He was the golden boy. Even though Mark finished ahead of him in fourth place, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed with his performance. He was in the same car, but he hadn’t brought three championships with him. Why couldn't he be more like Sebastian?
The team didn’t fall at his feet, the team didn’t worship him, and bend to every request he had. What the hell makes Sebastian so special?
He just needs to shake off the disappointment, he’s going to enjoy tonight. It’s the end of the season and they’re going out to celebrate. Mark can positively get wasted and forget about everything weighing him down.
Lately his mind has been obsessed with Sebastian. His pale skin and golden hair, his big blue pools for eyes he has, his stupid accent. Everything about Sebastian enrages Mark, but he can’t help the attraction that he feels for the conceited younger boy.
He climbs out the car in Parc Ferme, an absence of team members surrounded his car. No one left to congratulate him and his race finish. Of course, not because they’re all crowded around Sebastian, celebrating him.
He treks to the scale, standing in line behind Felipe. While he waits to be weighed, he offers his condolences to Fernando.
Fernando was one of the only ones who understood the distaste Mark had for Sebastian. Mark didn’t even congratulate the German. He completed his media duties and walked to his driver's room.
The music in the club was blaring from the speakers. Each beat drilling into Marks head. Sweaty bodies surrounded the booth he sat at, all wanting a piece of the 3-time world champion.
Sebastian threw back the vodka shots he was being handed, he was already clearly wasted, and the night had only begun. In his free hand, he nursed a beer. His face was flushed, his hair was disheveled, the lights shone in the sweat collecting on his forehead.
Mark couldn’t help but scoff. Even in the state Sebastian was in, he still looked godly and irresistible. Mark stayed cemented to his seat, sipping his neat whiskey. His eyes closely followed Sebastian to the dance floor, watching the women touch him. A state of jealousy washed over him. That should be him, running his hands over Sebastian, harboring sounds from him.
Sebastian turned and locked eyes with Mark. He stuck his finger out and motioned Mark towards him. Without a second thought Mark was on his feet making his way over to Sebastian. With his drink still in hand, he sucked down the last drops of his whiskey and shoved his cup into a stranger's hand.
There was an abundance of people surrounding them, anyone could record, or leak information. Best not to do something that will be across tabloids in the morning. Mark leaned into Sebastian, swaying to the beat of the music.
Sebastian chuckled, and pressed his body further into Mark, his ass sitting directly over Mark’s crotch. Mark sighed at the sudden contact; this is reckless but why should he care when it feels so good. Mark placed his large hands-on Sebastian’s hips, helping him sway.
It was overwhelming, the lights, the people around him, the alcohol clouding his head, and the pressure he feels building in his stomach.
Sebastian craned his head back, lying it down on Mark’s shoulder. He was having the time of his life. It couldn’t get better than this, he won the championship and Mark’s here.
They continued until Christian came and pried him away for a celebratory toast. Mark was upset; Sebastian didn’t need any more celebration. Mark was the only one who hadn’t celebrated him, it was his turn. But Sebastian was whisked away by their team principal. Mark was in the middle of the dance floor, feeling rather displeased.
He flagged the bartender over, ordering another whiskey. While on a stool at the bar, he notices Sebastian, dancing on top of the table they once occupied. What a sight.
Sebastian was plastered by now, sweat pooling down his body. Mark’s jaw was slack, saliva collecting. Mark didn’t even notice Fernando sit down on the stool beside him. “Mate, you’re letting the flies out.”
Mark was sucked from the lust filled trance he was in. He closed his mouth and swallowed his spit. Mark laughed, “Hey mate. Sorry about the championship.” Fernando grasped his shoulder and shook his head in acknowledgement.
In the time that Fernando started conversating with him, Sebastian climbed off the table to excuse himself to the restroom. But he didn’t make his way to the bathroom, he searched around the club for the handsome Australian.
When Sebastian found him sitting at the bar, he drunkenly stumbled over. Placing a hand on his lower back.
The sudden contact startled Mark out of his conversation with Fernando. “Oh, Seb.” Fernando greeted. Sebastian wore a wide grin, “Hey!” he shouted. Fernando saw himself out, leaving Mark with the German. Sebastian took over the stool next to Mark. Keeping his hand on Marks thigh as he did so. Sebastian’s pupils were blown wide; he was smiling ear to ear and another unknown emotion painted across his red skin.
He leaned into Marks ear whispering under his breath, “I have a problem. That only you can solve.”
Mark was shocked, when had Sebastian gotten so bold? Secondly, what is this problem and why can Mark be the only one to help him?
Sebastian held onto Mark’s bicep, almost pulling him from the stool. Mark got the memo and followed Sebastian through a door, leading to an alley. The alley was deserted, nothing but a dripping pipe sounded the brick walls.
Sebastian shoved Mark against the brick wall. The air was knocked from Marks lungs at the action. Mark wasn’t even able to protest, with the lips glued to his mouth. He melted into it and took charge, flipping them around so Sebastian’s back was pressed against the wall.
Sebastian couldn’t help the sound that ripped from his throat. He maneuvers his erection against the brawny thigh Mark had positioned between his legs. The feeling is amazing, just the right amount of pressure, shockwaves shoot through his entire body. Every nerve ending his body set a flame. Through his scattered thrusts, and whining he manages to voice, “Please, take me.”
Mark silently agrees, and before he pulls away another wet kiss is spread across the column of his throat.
Sebastian muttered something in German, while they walked towards the street. Mark waved a taxi down. He opened the door; he held onto Sebastian’s hand while he climbed in the backseat. Sebastian scooted all the way over, making space for mark.
Mark hopped in the back beside Sebastian and gave the driver directions to their hotel.
They arrived shortly after. Mark threw some cash at the driver, and they sped to the privacy of Sebastian’s suite. Sebastian fumbled around with the keycard, swiping it a few times before the door finally chimed and allowed entry. The minute it had opened, Sebastian was stumbling inside, Mark following closely behind.
Mark waited for the door to slam, before he was caging Sebastian on the bed. The air surrounding them was heated, filled with lust driven desires, they both entertain.
Sebastian fumbled with his shirt, rushing to rid the fabric. Mark ran his large hands down Sebastian’s sides, earning a shivering whimper from the German. Mark was starting to regret wearing jeans, they were rather restrictive in moments like these.
Mark climbed off Sebastian to get the full picture. Under him was a beautiful German, who irritates the fuck out of him, who he hates, envies even. How did they get here?
Did Mark dislike him because he rather carry around the burden of hatred, rather than endearment for Sebastian?
He can’t think, the alcohol clouding his judgement. He leaned in close to Sebastian’s ear, “I’m going to fuck you so good. I promise.”
Sebastian grabs at his biceps, holding them so tight his fingers turn white at the tips. “Please, Mark.” he struggles to spit out. His hips are moving under Mark’s, just barely grazing where he wants it.
Mark, still fully clothed, pulls his shirt off. Hoping that it will relieve the boiling temperature of his skin. He kicks off his trainers and unbuttons his pants. Sebastian is slowly stroking his hand down the side of his body. Shivers invading over his soft skin.
Mark positioned Sebastian further up the bed, his messy golden hair contradicting against the clean neat white pillows. When his head hit the pillow, he let out a slight huff. Mark chuckled at him. He slipped further down the bed, assisting Sebastian with his trousers. Sebastian lifted his hips, aiding in the quick removal of his pants and boxers.
Mark threw Sebastian’s pants across the room, adding them to the pile of forgotten clothing. Sebastian was hard and leaking against his thigh, his body was rigid. Mark was in the same predicament, but his hard-on confined by the tight fabric of his jeans and boxers.
Mark took Sebastian in his hand, stroking him slowly. Sebastian gasped at the contact, heat spreading through his entire body. Mark slowly climbed up the bed, his hand still secured around Sebastian’s length.
He kept the pace slow but efficient, trying to find the more sensitive parts of Sebastian. While he continued to jack him off, Mark attached his lips to Sebastian’s throat.
He traveled all over the expanse of Sebastian’s rather pale German skin, nipping and biting. But not hard enough to leave trace of their daring escapade. Mark found a particularly sensitive spot that nursed a high-pitched whine from Sebastian. He detached from his throat, earning another cutoff whimper. With that Sebastian seemed to be enjoying this so he dove right back in, sucking gently on the spot.
Mark could feel Sebastian twitch in his hand, signaling he was close. Mark gathered the precum beading at his tip and spread it down his length. He sped up, the sounds ripping from Sebastian’s throat were heavenly.
Sebastian’s hips began to stutter; he kept mumbling some incoherent German mixed with Mark’s name. Ecstasy took over and he erupted all over Mark’s hand and his lower stomach.
The sight below him was lethal. Sebastian covered in his own semen, with a fucked-out expression, panting and gasping for air. Mark stayed frozen in place. His hand still glued to Sebastian’s flaccid dick.
He let go, swiping his thumb in the motionless cum resting on Sebastian’s stomach. He brought his thumb to Sebastian’s kiss bitten plump lips, smearing his release over them. It left them glossy and wet. Sebastian’s mouth was slightly agape, allowing Mark’s finger to slip inside.
Sebastian sucked around the digit, sliding it in and out. As if he had Mark’s heavy cock shoved down his throat. Mark added another finger, grazing the palate of his mouth. With some unspoken need, Sebastian grabbed Mark’s hand, pushing his fingers deeper down his throat.
Mark was still prisoner to his jeans, and Sebastian wasn’t helping his problem. Sweaty and looking up through his eyelashes, driving Mark’s fingers in his mouth. He’s so drunk. Drunk from the alcohol and drunk on something so completely Sebastian.
Mark took his hand away from Sebastian’s wet mouth, covered in spit. Mark’s throat was dry, from not speaking. “Tell me you want it.” he squeaked.
He cleared his throat, embarrassed how his voice sounded.
Sebastian still underneath Mark, pushed himself up, using his arms to support his weight. He leaned impossibly closer to Mark, his breath ghosting over his ear. “I want it so bad. Fuck me, Mark.”
That was all Mark needed to hear to flip Sebastian on his stomach, with his ass perched up. Sebastian whined of course, beginning to harden again. “Do you have lube?” Mark questioned.
Sebastian craned his head to the side, “In the drawer, hotel provided it.” he spit out.
Mark reached over to the elegant bedside table, yanking it open wide. He gathered the complementary packets of lubricant. He positioned himself behind Sebastian on his knees, rubbing a hard hand down Sebastian’s spine.
Sebastian was getting impatient; his back ached from the position he was in. “Please, Mark please.” he begged.
Mark wasn’t going to give in, he wanted him to beg, beg for mercy, or simply beg for Mark. “That’s not going to get you anything.” he tore open one of the packets, slathering the lube over his fingers.
He teased around Sebastian’s muscled rim, Sebastian’s body tensed. “Relax for me,” Mark stroked his lower back. Mark opened another packet, squeezing it over Sebastian’s ass. Sebastian shivered at the cold lube, dripping down his skin.
Even though Mark wanted to tease him even more, the pressure building in his lower stomach was becoming unrelenting, his pants tighter than ever. He gave in, slipping a finger inside Sebastian. At first there was resistance, Sebastian trying to push the intrusion out. “Relax, you’re doing so well.” he held his waist steady, trying to comfort him through this.
The foreign feeling was different; it had Sebastian on the edge of pleasure but not quite there. Mark let him get used to the stretch of one finger, then he added another.
It was electrifying, Mark’s fingers moving inside him. Mark angled his fingers up, nailing Sebastian’s prostate spot on. “Oh, Fuck. Right there.” Sebastian moaned, arching his back further.
Mark continued to drive his fingers into Sebastian, till he was approaching his second climax. Mark pulled out, wiping his fingers on the disheveled sheets next to him. At last, he freed himself from the contraption of clothes. Both stark naked.
With a sinful grin, Mark began to kiss his way down Sebastian’s body, leaving a path of silent devotion along his spine.
He tore the last packet of lube open, stroking it over himself. He lined himself up, pressing the head of his penis through the tight ring of muscles. Sebastian moaned, pushing himself back on the burning stretch. Mark gripped his waist, steadying him. He was going to control the pace.
He carved his way, inching in at an agonizingly unhurried rate. Sebastian was becoming impatient as one does; he was whining uncontrollably. “Please, all of it. I can-” he mewled out as Mark thrusted all the way in.
His hips now flush with Sebastian’s ass, he stilled allowing Sebastian to get used to his size. “Oh, fuck. You’re so tight mate.” Mark huffed out. He was trying to think of Helmut Marko, so he wouldn’t cum right away.
Sebastian was in between the sensation of pleasure and pain. The stretch was something out of this world. Sebastian started rocking his hips, trying to signal to Mark he was ready. With the green light, Mark pulled slightly out, and slammed back in, setting a persistent pace.
Each thrust drilling him further into the bed. Sebastian couldn’t control any of the sounds leaving his throat. He tried to prop himself up on his hands, but Mark used his free arm to press him down, arching his back and changing the angle. Mark hit the jackpot; he knew by the sounds Sebastian created. Close to a scream but not quite there. He slowed, dragging his dick over the bundle of muscle, ultimately teasing Sebastian.
“Mark please.” Sebastian didn’t even know what he was asking for anymore. His brain was scrambled around, unable to think. He was so close and the teasing act from Mark was only edging him closer to his orgasm. He felt floaty, ready to fly away with his pleasure.
Mark’s thrusts were faltering, each one unsteady but angled dead-on with his sweet spot. Mark suddenly pulled out, Sebastian felt large hands grip his waist and flip him over to his back.
Sebastian’s hole was wet and puffy from where Mark had fucked into him. He grabbed his length and buried himself to the hilt. Sebastian’s mouth opened to form an ‘o’ shape as he pushed back in.
Mark set the same unyielding pace as before, nailing his sweet spot each time. Sebastian was taken over by the pleasure, Mark fucking him hard.
The sound of skin against skin fills the room as Mark grabs the back of Sebastian’s thighs, leaving small pink marks behind in the impression of his fingers.
The sight before him was something out of his wildest dreams. Sebastian laid out, moaning for him, with his dick inside the German. Mark was losing the game, he couldn't stop staring at Sebastian’s fucked out appearance, his plush lips, the toned muscled body beneath him, his gleaming hair in the overhead light. It stirred things deep down inside him.
He began to spudder, right on the brink of exploding. With one more thrust he pumped Sebastian full of his white seed. “Fuck.” he breathed out.
Sebastian, hard against his stomach. A pool of precum imprinted on his stomach. Mark grabbed his rigid length, tugging it twice and Sebastian surrendered giving into his orgasm.
“Mark, Mark, Mark.” he cried out like a reverent prayer.
Cum spurt on Mark’s hand, covering it like a glaze.
Mark went slack against Sebastian, still submerged in him. Sebastian felt hazy, ready to slip into a coma. Even in the muddle he was caught in right now, he couldn't care. This was everything he wanted and more. Sebastian buried his face into Mark’s broad shoulder, urging sloppy kisses upon them.
Mark slowly eased out, groaning as he did so. Sebastian whined at the loss, feeling empty. Mark started to climb off the bed, but Sebastian caught him by the arm before he lifted off the bed. “Don’t leave.”
“M’ not mate. Just to get a wet cloth.” He shook from Sebastian’s hold and stumbled to the ensuite connected to the room. He grabbed the nearest hand towel wetting it under the flow of water from the faucet. He looked in the mirror during the process, he was covered in a layer of sweat, bag under his eyes, his hair an utter mess, and cum drying on his torso. He cupped water in his hands, splashing his face. The water was cool against his warm skin offering relief. When he returned, Sebastian was in the middle of the bed, lying there boneless.
Sebastian could feel the cum trickling out of his wrecked hole, gliding down his thighs and onto the bed. His lower body throbbed horribly, never before exerting those muscles. Mark had thoroughly fucked him, every bone in his body fragile.
Mark lapped the wet cloth over Sebastian’s-stained skin, cleaning up the remanence of their shared night together. Mark cleaned his own chest off after and chucked the rag somewhere in the room.
He climbed in the bed beside Sebastian. Pulling the sheet over them, concealing their nudity. Sebastian winced as he turned on his side, allowing mark to slip closely behind him. They fit together like two puzzle pieces. Mark held on to Sebastian’s bare waist, using his thumbs to rub soothing circles into them.
Sebastian sighed, melting completely into Mark. Soon, he dozed off. The alcohol and rigorous dance they did exhausting him.
Mark, wide awake. The alcohol had worn off, and now he’s beginning to regret his life choices. Every single emotion, washing over him. Sebastian is snoring softly alongside him, fortunate to not be in active warfare.
Mark’s mind is so jumbled he doesn’t even know what he’s truly feeling. Regret? Anger? Resentment towards himself? Love? He doesn’t know. He’s drowning in his own thoughts, sucked in by the lake of Sebastian. He ended up falling asleep sometime after lying down, despite his conundrum.
The warm sunlight washes throughout the suite's ornate windowpanes, painting Sebastian’s pale skin golden. Mark lies awake, soaking in his thoughts while Sebastian sleeps soundly. His chest rose and fell in a steady manner, not at all mirroring Mark who was having trouble breathing.
He had to flee. It was the only option left. He couldn’t be here with Sebastian. He wasn’t able to face his endearment for Sebastian yet. He slowly untangled his limbs from Sebastian’s naked body, making sure his breathing stayed the same rate.
There were clothes scattered all over the floor. He collected the articles of clothing that seemed like his and locked himself into the bathroom. He held onto counter, mentally arguing with himself. How did he let it get this way?
He splashed his face with frigid water, hoping it would ease the throbbing headache forming. He practically fought with his clothes, trying to frantically put them on and leave. Turns out he grabbed Sebastian’s alcohol-soaked shirt. Great, now he smelled like a brewery and expensive cologne. Mark couldn't care less. His biggest concern was to be out of Sebastian’s room before he woke.
He strategically popped out of the bathroom, snatched his trainers off the floor and sped down the hallway of the hotel to his designated room. He felt like the shittiest bloke ever, leaving after sharing something so personal.
Mark searched his back pockets for his key, only his phone held space. He pats the front pockets of his jeans, empty too. His wallet must’ve fell out of his trouser when he ripped them off. Mark is a complete wreck, not accepting of his feelings and no key to his room.
Mark is faced with a dilemma. Now he has two options: 1. Walk back to Sebastian’s room (Which he doesn’t have a key to) and collect his wallet or 2. Go downstairs and consult with the receptionist. He chose the latter, wanting to steer clear of Sebastian.
He opted for the stairs, not wanting to fight the morning guests in the elevator. He pushed open the door, surveying the area for intruding eyes. He flew down each flight of stairs, out of breath by the time he reached to the bottom.
He strung himself into the expanse of the lobby, exasperated. He could only imagine how his appearance looked to people right now, a Formula one driver with stained shirt hugging his figure, clammy skin, still slightly drunk on last night, stumbling through the lobby of a grandeur hotel.
If the media gets ahold of this, they’ll have a field day, fabricating lies and twisting stories. He’s very aware of his surroundings, being cautious where he treads. He makes it to the front desk, desperate to be in the solace of his hotel room.
The Brazilian receptionist had a look of sympathy towards Mark; her eyes examined his scruffy aspect.
“Can I help you?” she asked, typing away on the computer stationed in front of her.
Mark hadn’t learned her name, “Yes, um.” he teetered in search of a hint as to what her name could be without explicitly asking. An angel from above sent sun shining through the lobby, illuminating the sliver of her golden name tag. Marcia she was called.
He stumbled over his words struggling to find them, “Uh. Marcia, I lost my wallet. I’m in need of a new access key for my room.”
She looked amused, but none the less she answered with a professional attitude. “What’s your name sir?”
“Mark Webber, I’m here with Red Bull.” he replied in a whisper tone, with his real identity out he was feeling extremely exposed now. He’s used to the extent of exposure that being a Formula one driver brings, but nothing ever can prepare you for your whole life to get picked apart, media swarming you, watching your every move.
“Oh yes, Fórmula 1. How could I be so silly!” she slapped her hand against her head.
She was cute, Mark was able to admit that. She had luscious brown curls about shoulder length. Her uniform was a crisp and ironed in all the right places, not a button out of place. Very put together. She had subtle makeup on, that highlighted her natural beauty. Around her neck she wore a dainty gold cross necklace. On top of that she was sweet and respectful.
“Senhor Webber,” she snapped in front of his face, his name sounded funny with her thick Portuguese accent.
She slid over an envelope over the counter, he ripped it open, revealing his new key card. He was so thankful, “Thank you so much Marcia!” he beamed, blowing kisses in his wake.
She blushed, clearly affected by his attention. “Anytime. If you have any issues, you can reach me here.” she bid goodbye.
He snatched the envelope trash from the desk and made his hike back to his suite. By the time he reached his floor he was sweating profusely, smelling of musk and Sebastian. He needed to rid Sebastian, from his mind, from his body.
Mark stuck the new key into the door, waiting for the green light and the chirp that followed. As soon as the door slammed heavily behind him, he wrestled out of the confinement Sebastian’s shirt brought. He couldn't stand the scent emitting from his body.
His trainers sat abandoned at the door, along with his pants. He sat on the bed with his head in his hands, rethinking the last 24 hours. He could’ve had any girl in the club and the one he chose to bring home wasn’t even a woman. It was a man, and better yet it was
Sebastian. Reigning World Champion Sebastian Vettel, Red bull teammate Sebastian, Red bull’s golden boy, Sebastian Vettel.
Mark rethought his life in the shower, cleaning his body. He rethought while packing his bag and even boarding his plane back to London. Even though it was the most mindless decision he’s ever made, he can’t bring himself to regret it.
Mark hopes that Sebastian can acknowledge they made a grave error, and it will never happen again. Or will it?
Sebastian had drunk enough to be intoxicated for at least three more days. When you’re a World Champion, things tend to get out of hand at parties. Everyone handing you rounds, your team principal inviting you over to have a celebratory toast, bottles and bottles of champagne.
The afternoon sun was cutting through the open drapes harshly. Okay, maybe this party was more intense than the rest. Sebastian couldn’t remember a lick of how his night went.
The only memories surfacing was him winning, the drive to the club, flashing lights, champagne, dancing and a mystery man. Had Sebastian brought this man to his hotel? That may give an explanation to the fierce throb blanketing his lower body and his core set aflame. His bedraggled state reflected across the room. Dirty clothes adorned the floor, furniture out of place, his suitcase was even strewn open.
Sebastian crawled to the bathroom, regretting every drink he had accepted. He should’ve had the champagne and been done. He was a lightweight, not holding liquor well at all. He let loose, more than he has in a while. He deserved every second of it. All year long, he trained, pushed himself beyond the limit to gain the title. Now that he had the title, parties come along, events scheduled, it’s all about him now.
He could feel the reminisce of last night's alcohol still taking an effect. He bent over the toilet in agonizing pain, vomit flowing from his mouth. Just as the first wave finished another one hit like a freight train. He pulled the lever of the toilet down, the mixture of vomit and water swallowed by the plumbing system.
He stood shakily, grasping the edge of the ensuite counter.
He flipped the light switch, looking into the mirror. He was frightened by the reflection staring back at him. His skin was discolored, his once golden locks were oily and unkempt, lips bitten and plush. As he was examining his state, he noticed the muted mahogany splotches scattered across the plane of his skin. Embellishing the bruises, were substantial fingerprints etched into his waist, leaving an incomprehensible gap as to what happened last night.
Sebastian stood up straight, looking over his body once more. He brought both of his hands up, lying them over the imprints left on his hips. His hands traveled up his body, pressing on every impression left on his skin. When he reaches his collar bone the bruises left there are darker in color.
He traced the around the outline of the bruise. He added pressure under his fingertips; with each pass the sensation caused his breath to stick in his throat. Blood rushed down his body, his glans filling with excitement. He immediately pulled his hand away.
Sebastian turned facing away from the mirror, he needed to shower and rid his body of sex and the smell of the pub. He showered efficiently, scrubbing his body inside and out.
He dug through the pile of clothes stacked in his suitcase. He pulled out a pair of cotton briefs, a Red Bull t-shirt and some plain shorts. When he was fully dressed, he surveyed the initial state of the bedroom he was standing in. Clothes were everywhere, along with an isolated towel thrown in the corner.
Sebastian started picking up the disorder of the suite. He began by making the bed. He pulled the sheets over the corners of the mattress and tucked them under. Following that he draped the duvet over the bed, folding over the part that was sticking out. He finished by arranging the pillows at the head of the bed.
Sebastian picked his suitcase up and sat it down on the bed, he stuffed the remaining clothing inside it to make room for the clothes still on the floor.
While he was picking up the dirty clothes, he came across a sizeable black V-neck shirt with a white stripe alone the sleeves. It wasn’t his, so who’s could it be? He led the shirt to his nose, breathing in the scent. It smelt of vanilla, expensive whiskey, and a musk so familiar.
He bunched the shirt in his hands and smelt it once more. Wishing he could smother himself with the fragrant. He folded the shirt neatly, packing it away in his suitcase. It was a juxtaposition to everything surrounding it. He grabbed the rest of the discarded clothing from the floor; he didn’t bother to fold it. Sebastian zipped his bag and continued to tidy the room until it was cleaner than this morning. He flicked all the lights off, observing the room once more and he was off to the airport.
His flight was leaving soon, and Sebastian couldn’t wait to be back in Switzerland. First, he had to stop in Milton Keynes for the end of season debrief, which wasn’t mandatory, but Sebastian wanted next year to be better than the last.
When his plane touched down in Heathrow he felt at ease, the holiday ahead of him would be long, but rewarding.
During meetings, Sebastian was always a chatty one, asking questions and making statements. Opposed to Mark, who was sulky and quiet, never daring to speak.
Mark sat in his chair, scanning over the data being presented. He wasn’t retaining any of the material, his thoughts clouded by Sebastian. There was a commotion, the doorknob rattled incessantly. Mark craned his neck in the direction of the open door. Mark’s eyes fell on Sebastian. His ears started ringing and he swore his heart stopped beating.
Sebastian had just arrived to the debriefing room. From a quick glance, his hair was uncombed, and he looked like he had just rolled out of bed. Upon further inspection, Mark noticed Seb’s clothing. A black V-neck shirt, that was larger against his frame. The same shirt Mark wore in Brazil at the club. The same shirt Mark ripped off, to have skin to skin contact with the German.
Does Sebastian know? The entire room started spinning. This was the universe coming to bite him in the ass for what he did.
Mark was cut out of his trance when Sebastian climbed into the desolate chair beside him. Scooting over unbearably close to him. Of course, the only available chair was beside Mark. Sebastian looked over and shot him a toothy grin, he must know something.
For the rest of the session, Mark fiddled with his hands under the table, channeling every ounce of Self-control he had as to not touch the German so close to him.
Debrief was long but beneficial, Sebastian had walked out of the conference room with such confidence for the impending season. His brain flowing with ideas, pointers and strategies to better himself and his championship.
Mark made a beeline for the door as soon as they were released. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his team principal call for him, “Ay mate, Where you off too so quick?” Christian questioned.
“Yeah, just a bit of errands to run, and the dogs deserve a walk.” he replied, looking for every excuse to leave. He shouldn’t have even come. It was unnecessary for him. The entire team was just going to kiss Sebastian’s ass all season, catering to his every need.
Christian motioned him over, “I’ve got a surprise for you.” he pulled Marks lost wallet. Mark let out a sigh of relief, at seeing the leather square. Christian handed the wallet over, “Maybe next time don’t leave this lying around at a club.”
Mark expressed his gratitude and stuffed the wallet into his pocket. In the process of speeding out of the room he was stopped again by none other than Sebastian himself.
“Hey.” Sebastian greeted.
“Hey-o.” Mark chuckled.
“During the meeting, I couldn’t help but notice your restlessness. Are you doing alright?” Sebastian was worried about him? Well, this is certainly new.
“Nah, I'm alright mate.” He tried to dodge the question, hoping Sebastian wouldn’t interrogate him further. How was he supposed to tell Sebastian the reason he was on edge was because he can’t stop thinking about him. His stupid golden locks, the way his eyes sparkle in the sunlight, his annoyingly perfect smile and the way he looks spread out on full display only for Mark.
“Oh alright! Have a good holiday! See you soon.” Sebastian dropped the subject, and the German was out the door before Mark could even reply. Mark celebrated the small wins in life. After Sebastian left, Mark engaged in conversation with a few mechanics and engineers in the room.
It wasn't until the afternoon when Sebastian filled the hole of his drunken memories, on the way to lunch he spotted Red Bull media personnel. They were crowded around a computer, giggling to themselves. Sebastian walked by their desk, instantly curious as to what they were looking at.
“Hey! Sebastian, would you like to look at some photos from your celebration?” the red-haired media manager asked.
He contemplated, “Sure, let me see.” He walked around the desk, settling behind the girls. She began flipping through pictures from the night, a blur of colored lights, alcohol and an inebriated exploit.
She landed on a photograph. Red Bull staff were stuffed around a medium leather couch with Sebastian in the middle downing shots of clear alcohol. Mark seated beside him, sipping something brown. Mark’s shirt caught Sebastian’s eye.
A simple black V-neck with a white stripe along the sleeves.
Sebastian found himself lost in the photo, the way the stripe strained around Mark’s biceps. He looked down to his own arm, the same stripe now stretched around his arm.
In the picture Mark’s eyes were glued to Sebastian, watching him suck down shot after shot on the couch. Mark was the mystery that had been taunting him for days.
His body lit up like a fire, in acknowledgment of Mark being the one he left the club with. But this flame was short lived, fury soon overtook his body. Mark left him there, in the cold sheets. Without any evidence of him being there except the cum dried on his ass, and the measly shirt he left.
Why would Mark do this to him? To fuck him like it meant something and discard him like some hooker. He needed to find Mark right now. This was a conversation that wasn’t going to be avoided.
Sebastian thanked the girls for the photos and ran off. He busted through the doors of the meeting room that was once lively but was now desolate. He had no idea where Mark could be now. Sebastian booked it down the hallway to Christian's office.
He began knocking on the frosted door, each blow coming harder than the last. Until it swung open with a clearly annoyed Christian. “Sebastian, what can I help you with?” he questioned.
“Where did Mark go?” he said in between breaths.
“He just left the building, to the parking garage. Said he was on his way home.” Christian sat back behind his desk. “Thank you, I'll leave you be now.” Sebastian slammed the door shut on his way out. The parking garage was on the complete opposite direction from where he was. Through winding stairs and slow elevators, he reached the first floor, running across the lobby.
When he stepped outside, the chilly English air invaded his lungs harshly. He was exasperated by the time he reached the car park.
The garage was almost empty, the few cars left inside being his and other staff members. Not one of them were Mark’s black Porsche. To Sebastian’s dismay he had already left.
Sebastian pulled out the keys to his rental and unlocked the door. He walked over to the right side of the car and opened the door, slumping into the driver’s seat.
He forcefully pulled the door shut, letting out a sharp huff while doing so. He yanked the small mirror down. His appearance reflected the anger he felt. His flushed skin was contradicting against the white interior of the car. Sebastian shoved the key into the ignition, starting the engine up. He put the car into reverse and sped out of the parking garage.
Despite the biting temperature outside, Sebastian was boiling inside the car. When he was steady down the road he cranked the Air-con to full blast.
The English countryside was serene, calming him. But as he drew closer to his destination, he couldn't help but feel the anxiety brewing in his lower stomach.
Most of the drive to Mark’s residence was silent, till he couldn’t hold back the deafening sobs that bubbling in his throat. Hot tears spilled down his face, clouding his vision. Was Mark going take accountability for what he did?
Mark’s long winding driveway came into view and Sebastian debated on deserting this operation. Mark wouldn’t think twice, he already threw Sebastian away once, he would do it again.
Sebastian pulled off to the side of the road, putting the car into park. He rested his head against the steering wheel, trying calm himself. He lifted his head and pulled the mirror down, he was a mess, his face tear kissed, and splotches of red painted his skin.
He wiped his eyes aggressively with the bottom of his shirt, no Mark’s shirt. That made the tears fall worse than before. He sat on the side of the road for twenty-five more minutes preparing himself. With a shaky breath he put the car into drive and drove up the rocky path.
Mark lived in a charming, old stone cottage with a grey slate roof. His house was surrounded by a lush garden filled with vibrant flowers and greenery. The house had a warm, inviting atmosphere.
Sebastian felt the opposite. He felt cold and distant and obviously he’s showing up uninvited.
He drove his car passed the brick wall spanning the entire residential. He looked for Mark’s familiar black Porsche. He pulled in beside Mark’s car, and parked. He twisted the key out of the ignition and took a deep breath. He was ready to face this.
He shivered when the frigid November air hit his body. He should’ve dressed warmer before he left this morning for Milton Keynes. He peeled himself out of the car. Sebastian trekked up to the large wooden front door, with the sound of gravel crunching under his converse.
Swallowing the lump from deep within, he knocked so quietly that Mark probably didn’t even hear him. He grasped the iron ring on the door and began beating it against the door. He heard scattering behind the door and Mark’s dogs barking.
The door flung open, and two Labradors shot out. One was an ashy brown known as Shadow and the other was golden brown known as Simba. They jumped at Sebastian’s feet, trying to get affection from him.
Mark eyes fell upon Sebastian, clueless as to what he was doing here.
Sebastian gave into the doggies, stroking them softly on their heads. When Shadow and Simba calmed, Mark called them inside. Sebastian suddenly remembered the real reason he was standing on Mark’s doorstep. It wasn’t to pet his dogs, but to rather talk about the burden he’s been carrying for days.
The burden of not knowing what happened, not knowing who was in his room. Why Mark had left.
Mark stood in the doorway silently with his arms crossed, looking at Sebastian. Sebastian refused to meet Mark’s eyes, scared he would be shut away.
“Sebastian, what are you doing here?” Mark asked in his annoyingly Australian accent.
“I think you should know Mark.” even though Sebastian was trembling he tried to convey a stern tone.
“Not a clue mate.” Mark answered dumbfounded.
Was Mark trying to play stupid? Was he trying to act like nothing happened between them?
Sebastian shivered, the cold air engulfing him whole. With chattering teeth, “Mark why was this shirt in my hotel room after Brazil?” he motioned to the shirt adorning his figure.
Mark pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking how to go about this, “Let’s speak about this inside.”
Mark stepped aside, advancing deeper in the foyer to allow Sebastian to slip inside the entrance. Mark silently signaled to Sebastian to follow him towards the living room. When Sebastian walked through the threshold, he was almost immediately warmed by the brick fireplace.
Sebastian stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, withholding himself from settling down on the taupe leather sofa. Tension took over Sebastian’s body, he no longer felt able to spew the harsh word he once clung for Mark.
He wanted to embrace the older man, being able to feel Mark’s lengthy arms wrap around his waist. To have Mark whisper sweet nothings into his ear. He wanted Mark to run his large hands down his body; touch him in place he doesn’t allow others.
Sebastian was sucked from his dream land when Mark cleared his throat, “Sebastian.”
“Mark,” he shot back in a nasty tone. Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest. He knew that he was being extremely petty. There was no need for the tone of voice he was using.
“Why are you being such a brat? You storm into my house and stand there like you own the place. Are you even going to tell me why you are here?” Mark scoffed.
He stood with his back turned, too afraid to look in Mark’s eyes. “Oh, so now you’re going to play stupid? I thought you were better than this.” he paused for a moment and then continued, “If you’re clueless about my presence, then why do you keep acting weird around me? Certainly, you wouldn't know why your shirt was left in my hotel suite.”
Sebastian snapped his neck around, now looking into Mark’s greyish eyes. “Me, a brat? Are you fucking serious. You brought me back to my hotel, took what you wanted and fucking left me there like some whore. Is that all I am to you?” Sebastian held back the tears threatening his eyes, he sniffled and then added, “If I am a brat, then you are a coward.” His voice was barely audible.
Mark soaked in the words flowing from Sebastian’s mouth. He stayed silent for a while, he didn’t know what to say. There was no excuse to leave Sebastian in the suite alone and completely ignorant of the situation.
“You’re not a whore Seb.” Mark coughed, that was followed by, “There was no reason for me to leave you there. There isn’t an excuse to justify my actions. Mate believe me, I am sorry.”
“Do you know how hard it’s been? I couldn't remember anything. My mind was just this big clusterfuck, I had no recollection. You became this consequential mystery. Do you know how worried that has made me?” Sebastian admitted, he turned away from Mark again.
Sebastian’s chest tightened, and a wave of panic washed over him. “This has been nothing but degrading Mark,” he gasped, his voice trembling. His once steady and clear breaths became shallow and erratic. The air around him felt thick and suffocating, pressing down
on him from all sides. His heart raced, and his hands began to shake uncontrollably as he struggled to find any sense of calm.
Mark quickly noticed Sebastian’s distress and rushed over. He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Hey, it’s going to be okay, Sebastian. Just breathe with me, alright?” Mark’s voice was calm and soothing; despite the way Sebastian had just talked to him.
But Sebastian’s panic only grew. “Don’t tell me to breathe, Mark!” he snapped, his eyes wide with fear and frustration. “You don’t understand how this feels!” His voice cracked, and he pulled away, the weight of his emotions overwhelming him.
Mark took a step back, giving Sebastian some space. “Sebastian I’m sorry. I was scared,” he admitted, his voice trembled with emotion. “I left because I was a coward, petrified of what would happen if you woke up beside me. I didn’t know how to handle my feelings, and I didn't want to hurt you.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened as he listened, the weight of the admission sinking in. He could see the regret and fear etched into Mark’s sharp features. “You... you were scared?” Sebastian’s voice rose, filled with hurt and anger. “What if it had been some random person who fucked me, left and then sold the story to a journalist? You left me there to wonder, to be terrified of what my career would become. You don’t get to say you were scared, Mark. You will never be as truly scared as I was.”
Mark flinched at Sebastian’s words, the intensity of his anger hitting him hard. He knew Sebastian had every right to be furious, and the guilt weighed heavily on him. “I can’t even begin to understand the fear you went through. I was selfish and I failed you. I know I have no excuse, I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”
Sebastian’s eyes blazed with a mixture of rage and pain. “It’s going to take more than promises, Mark. You shattered my trust. Do you even realize how hard it is to rebuild that?” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “If you really mean it, then show me. Prove that you’re not just saying these things to ease your own guilt.”
Mark nodded, his expression resolute. As Sebastian turned around, Mark took a step forward and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. Sebastian stiffened at first, but then slowly relaxed into the hug, feeling the sincerity in Mark’s gesture.
“I’m sorry,” Mark whispered into Sebastian’s wavy golden locks, his voice was filled with emotion. “I know I have a lot to make up for, but I won’t give up on us.”
Sebastian closed his eyes, letting himself feel the warmth he desired from Mark’s embrace. “Just don’t let me down again Mark. I don’t think I could take it.”
“I won’t,” Mark promised, holding Sebastian even tighter. “I swear, I won't.” He pulled back and kissed Sebastian’s forehead.
Sebastian looked up through his eyelashes at Mark, his body finally calm. He tilted his chin up, meeting Mark’s gaze.
Seeing the vulnerability in Sebastian’s eyes, Mark leaned down slowly, giving Sebastian time to pull away if he wanted to. But Sebastian didn’t move. Instead, he closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was a kiss filled with unspoken apologies and promises, a tentative step toward healing through rift between them.
For a moment, everything had faded into nothing. It was just the two of them, connected in a way words couldn’t fully capture. When they finally separated, they both knew that this was just the beginning of a long journey, a journey they were willing to take together.
For the first time that day Mark truly smiled, still holding Sebastian close. “Mate, I didn’t expect that,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. “These past couple days have been torture. I missed you, you know? I just want to make things right between us.”
He brushed a stray hair from Sebastian’s face, his expression earnest. “I know it’s going to take time, but I'm all in.”
Sebastian responded by pulling Mark into another kiss, this one more intense and filled with a newfound determination. As their lips continued to dance together, Sebastian backed Mark up to the couch. Mark fell back onto the cushions, and Sebastian climbed on him, each thigh splayed over Mark’s. Their kiss deepened, the heat between them undeniable.
They got carried away making out, lost in the moment, when Sebastian’s hands traveled down to unbuckle Mark’s belt. But just when he was about to, Mark gently caught his wrist, stopping him.
“Wait,” he said out of breath, he pulled back slightly to look directly into Sebastian’s blue eyes. “I want to take things slow. I don’t want to rush anything.”
Sebastian was everything except understanding. His breath quickened, desperation creeping into his voice. “Please, Mark... I need you. Give me something to remember this time. Just this once, let’s not hold back.” He leaned closer, his eyes pleading, wanting to feel that connection even deeper.
Mark took another breath, steadying himself. He gently pushed Sebastian off his lap, creating space between them. “Sebastian, I really care about you, but I want to make sure we’re both ready for this.”
He looked into Sebastian’s eyes, hoping to convey his feelings without pushing too hard. “We can figure this out together.”
Sebastian’s expression shifted, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Seriously, Mark? Why can’t you just let go for once?” He pulled away, crossing his arms, clearly upset. “I just want to feel close to you again. Is that too much to ask?”
Mark’s eyes narrowed, slightly as he responded, “You didn’t remember it was me, Sebastian. You were just caught up in the moment. I want this to mean something, not just a heat-of-the-moment thing.”
Sebastian opened his mouth to protest, but Mark held up a hand. “No, just listen for a second. I need you to respect my boundary here.”
Mark’s tone softened, trying bridge the gap. “I care about you, but I want to make sure we’re both really ready for this.”
Sebastian shot back from the couch, “I am ready for this, Mark. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
Mark raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. “You arrived piping mad, and now you’re asking me to go along with it? It doesn’t work like that.” He sighed, trying to keep the conversation calm. “We need to talk about this, not just act on it.”
Mark watched as the words sunk into Sebastian, his face contorting into many different appearances. Sebastian stood up, a mix of shock and irritation crossing his face. “You know what, fuck you! I’m going home!” Sebastian exclaimed, storming out and heading to his car.
Mark felt a knot in his stomach, unsure of what to do next. He wanted to call out, to stop Sebastian. But he knew pushing would only make things worse. Instead, he stood there contemplating his whole existence.
When Mark didn’t hear the gravel crunching under Sebastian’s tires he started to worry and went outside. As he approached the car, he could see Sebastian hunched over the steering wheel clearly upset.
Mark knocked softly against the window and said, “Seb, it’s me. Can we talk?”
Sebastian responded with more tears, his shoulders shaking as he tried to compose himself. Mark stood there, not knowing how to address this.
Sebastian opened the car door and stepped out, his face warped with emotion. He buried his face into Mark’s chest, his body wracking with his sobs. “Why don’t you want me?” he choked out between tears, his voice filled with agony and exposure.
Mark felt his heart break at the sight of Sebastian in such distress. He enveloped Sebastian, holding him tightly as if to shield him from the world. “I do want you, Seb. So, much.” he murmured softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. “I care about you so much.”
He continued to stroke Sebastian’s back in slow, soothing circles, hoping to provide some comfort. Mark withdrew from Sebastian, his hands moving to wipe the tears from Sebastian’s eyes. “Let’s have a cuppa inside,” he said tenderly, giving Sebastian as reassuring smile. He guided Sebastian back towards the house and closed the door behind them.
Mark walked to the kitchen and Sebastian sulked shortly behind. Mark dug around in the cupboard for the kettle; he brought the pot over to the sink and began to fill it three quarters of the way with water. He sat the kettle down and fired the stove up.
Sebastian sat on the other side of the counter; his eyes fixed intently on Mark as he prepared their tea. It wasn't just a casual gaze; it was one of deep admiration. He took in every detail that made Mark uniquely him, the way his toned arms moved with precision, the gentle flex of his muscled neck as he was focused. The soft lighting of the kitchen highlighted the contours of Mark's physique, casting subtle shadows that emphasized his strength and grace.
Mark caught on to Sebastian’s staring problem and chuckled lightly.
They ended the day tangled in each other. Sebastian’s golden curls resting on his chest. The slow rhythm of his breathing matched the fading light outside, casting shadows that danced across the sheets. One of his arms lay draped lazily over Sebastian’s back, fingers tracing absent patterns into his skin, like he was trying to memorize him by touch alone.
He tilted his head slightly, pressing a kiss into Sebastian’s hair, breathing in the scent of sun and something like home.
Neither of them spoke. There was no need. The silence between them wasn't empty, it was full, warm, alive with everything they didn’t have to say.