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Gabriel loves how natural it all feels.
Him, sprawled across Nico’s hotel bed like he owns it. Legs stretched out, back resting against the headboard, shirt loose, phone in hand, grin like a menace.
He’d been buzzing all evening, still high off the adrenaline of race day. P5 for Nico. P5. In that car. And Gabi had practically tackled him in parc fermé.
“So if I can name the brainnot, you—”
“Brainrot,” Gabi corrects without missing a beat.
Nico shrugs, completely unfazed. “Yeah, whatever. You’ll take off a piece of clothing?”
That part? That one, he definitely cares about.
The younger man hums in response, gaze flicking up to where Nico’s still standing at the edge of the bed. He watches him like he’s planning something. Probably is.
“And if I can’t?” Nico asks.
“Well,” Gabi says, stretching just a little more, “nothing happens.”
“So I lose nothing?”
“Perks of being a P5 finisher, old man.” That grin turns absolutely criminal.
Nico lets out a long-suffering sigh “This is ridiculous.” But he’s already climbing onto the bed, aware of how a pair of eyes follow every move, like a cat tracking its prey.
Once he settles beside him, Nico doesn’t waste time. One hand lands casually on Gabi’s thigh—just resting there, warm and confident. Just because he can.
“And how many chances do I get?” he asks, voice low. Gabi barely glances up from his phone. “How badly do you wanna see me naked?”
“Again?” Nico smirks, giving the thigh a deliberate squeeze. “If I don’t, I might not survive the night.”
Gabi bites back a smile, clearly pleased. He turns the phone screen toward Nico with a dramatic flourish, revealing a blurry meme of a humanoid shark standing on a beach in broad daylight.
“Okay, genius. Name this brainrot, and you get your prize.” He says it like a challenge, knowing just how much the older man craves any sight of exposed skin.
“Your generation has a really interesting idea of what’s considered funny,” Nico says, eyeing the meme like it personally offended him. “You’re just too old to understand it,” Gabi fires back, smug.
Nico huffs. “I don’t know—Sharky Suffer, maybe?” He glances at him, a hopeful tilt in his brow.
Gabi snorts. “Too bad. The shirt stays on.”
He giggles when Nico groans dramatically, flopping back on the bed like he’s been personally wronged.
Too bad, because thirty minutes later, that very same shirt is forgotten on the floor. Right next to Gabi’s jeans… and his boxers.
The Brazilian is now laid out flat on his back, completely naked. His chest rises and falls in quick little huffs, and there’s a very smug German between his legs, currently busy kissing down the inside of his thigh.
Gabi’s fingers twist into the sheets when Nico bites the soft skin just above his knee. “Fuck,” he mutters, trying to hold it together.
Nico chuckles, low and satisfied, feeling the way Gabi’s thighs twitch at the contact.
“You’re lucky I’m generous, old man,” Gabi grits out, attempting to sound cool despite being an obvious, squirming mess.
Because, truthfully, Nico had only gotten one right. Ballerina Cappucina, No TikTok brainrot championship title for Nico Hülkenberg.
But Gabi had stripped for him anyway. Piece by piece. Grinning the whole time like it was a gift he couldn’t wait to give.
Now Nico presses another kiss to the inside of Gabi’s thigh, trailing higher, just to feel him squirm again. And when he’s had his fill. He moves up, sliding over Gabi’s body to kiss him deep, slow, and deliberate.
Gabi groans into it, gripping at Nico’s shoulders like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Didn’t know getting one answer right gets you a full-course meal,” Nico mutters against his lips, hand trailing back down to Gabi’s thigh, fingers spreading over warm skin.
Gabi huffs a laugh. “Perks of being my favorite old man.”
Nico pinches his thigh in retaliation, and Gabi yelps—though the grin never fades. “Call me that again and I’ll make you beg.”
“Oooh,” Gabi coos, mock-scared. “So scary. You gonna spank me next, Grandpa?”
Nico growls low in his throat, pushes Gabi’s legs wider and dips down, mouth trailing back between his thighs like he’s aiming to shut him up the only way that works.
And it does. For about five seconds.
Because the second Nico licks a stripe up Gabi's cock, the boy moans — then says, breathless, “This doesn’t feel like punishment.”
One of Nico's hands goes to squeeze the base of the youngers cock, “Fuck,” Gabi gasps, the cockiness slipping. “Okay—okay, you win.”
“Thought so,” Nico murmurs, before slipping down forward, kissing around at his entrance that is considered almost too tender, given the situation.
Gabi’s breath stutters. “Nico-” he warns.
“hmm? You were so confident just an hour ago, no?” Nico says, voice low, aware of his breaths hitting the boys entrance. “Now you're naked on my bed, legs spread, begging for it.”
“I’m not begging—”
“You will be.”
And he is.
A few minutes later, Gabi’s got one hand over his mouth, the other gripping the headboard like it owes him money, hips rolling down onto Nico’s three fingers, moaning something that sounds suspiciously like “oh meu deus” when Nico curls them just right.
“Still think I’m too old?” Nico asks, voice smug.
Gabi whines. “Yes, but god, you fuck like you’re twenty.” That earns him another bite, this time on his hip. Gabi throws his head back, thighs trembling again. “Porra, just—come on—”
Nico leans over him, kissing him hard enough to make his toes curl. “I’ll fuck you if you name the 1954 driver's championship."
Gabi laughs into the kiss, wrecked and smiling. “Shut the fuck up and fuck me already.”
Nico doesn’t move at first. Just hovers above him, steady and infuriating, still in that damn shirt and grey sweatpants.
“Come on,” Gabi huffs, fisting the sheets beneath him. “You’re hard, I can see it. Are you gonna fuck me or just flex your old man patience?”
Nico’s mouth twitches, amused. “You’re very loud for someone who hasn’t even been touched yet.”
“Touched?” Gabi scoffs, breathless. “You had three fingers in me and kissed my thighs like you were proposing.”
“I’m romantic,” Nico deadpans.
And then finally he hooks his thumbs under his waistband, dragging down the soft fabric of his sweatpants and boxers in one slow, smooth motion.
Gabi immediately stops talking.
Because holy shit.
“Okay,” he says, blinking at the sheer size of him. “That’s unfair. That should be regulated.”
Nico smirks, stepping out of the puddle of clothes at his feet, leaving his black tee hanging loose over his hips.
“I should leave you like this,” Nico says, spreading lube over himself with maddening slowness. “Hard, messy, desperate. Let you stew in it.”
Gabi glares. “You’re such a fucking tease.”
Nico leans in close again, lips brushing over Gabi’s ear. “Maybe I should just jerk myself off right here,” he whispers, slow and cruel, “watch you squirm while I ruin the sheets.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I might.”
“Nico,” Gabi whines, hips lifting. “Please—”
That’s the one that breaks him.
Nico exhales sharply, lines himself up, and presses in slow—all the way, until Gabi’s moan turns into something half-choked and wholly obscene.
His hands fly to Nico’s shirt, trying to yank it open. “Off. Take it off. Want to see you.”
But Nico just pins both of Gabi’s wrists above his head, fully in control. “Nah,” he says, hips starting to move. “You don’t get everything you want just yet.”
And god, Gabi whimpers.
He’s never been this undone by someone who hasn’t even taken their fucking shirt off. Nico fucks him slow, deep, like he’s savoring every sound Gabi makes. Every gasp. Every time his legs tremble.
“Look at you,” Nico murmurs. “So cocky earlier, and now you’re drooling on my pillow.” And then he shifts his angle just slightly—and Gabi screams.
The younger claws at the sheets now, his arms trembling from being held down, thighs spread wide as Nico drives into him with that maddening pace—deliberate, deep, fucking perfect.
“That—fuck—whatever you just did, do that again,” Gabi gasps, voice cracking around the edges.
Nico chuckles low. “You mean this?” He shifts just a little again, hits that spot like he mapped the rookie’s body in advance, and Gabi shatters.
His back arches, toes curling, a broken moan falling from his mouth. “Fuck, yes—yes—”
Nico leans down, finally letting go of his wrists to cradle Gabi’s jaw, tilting his face up. “Thought I was old and boring,” he murmurs. “You said I should be knitting, remember?”
“Y-yeah, well—” Gabi tries, but another thrust knocks the air right out of him.
Nico grins. “Not so mouthy now.”
Gabi groans, one hand flying to Nico’s arm, gripping tight. “God, you’re such a bastard.”
“I know,” Nico says sweetly, pressing a kiss to his temple like they’re having coffee and not fucking the life out of each other. “But you like it.”
And Gabi does. He’s flushed head to toe, chest heaving, eyes blown wide, pupils swallowing the brown whole. He looks at Nico like he hung the moon—like every inch hurts so good.
Nico picks up the pace, still deep but faster now, sweat slicking his shirt to his chest. Gabi watches it cling, obsessed, tries to yank it up with clumsy fingers.
“Fuck, let me—let me see you—”
“Greedy,” Nico mutters, but relents enough to tug the shirt halfway up his torso, just enough to show the sharp cut of his abs, the trail of hair leading down from his navel. “That better?”
“So much better,” Gabi breathes, dazed.
They’re close now—it’s obvious. Gabi’s body is twitching with every thrust, cock leaking between them, his fingers digging into Nico’s back like he’s trying to anchor himself to Earth.
“Touch yourself,” Nico says, voice gone ragged.
Gabi obeys instantly, wrapping a slick hand around his cock and stroking fast, chasing it. “Nico— I’m—I’m gonna—”
“Yeah, come on,” Nico pants, fucking harder now, chasing his own edge. “Want to see you lose it. Be good for me, Gabi.”
That’s all it takes.
Gabi cries out, loud and wrecked, spilling across his own stomach, clenching so hard around Nico that it drags a filthy groan from deep in the German’s chest.
“Fuck—” Nico bites out, thrusts stuttering, and then he’s coming too, buried deep, gasping against Gabi’s neck as his hips finally still.
For a moment, all that fills the room is breath—harsh, ragged, beautiful.
Then Gabi exhales a laugh, breathless and smug, even as his legs are still shaking. “Not bad for someone who should be in bed by ten.”
Nico lifts his head, eyes narrowed. “Careful,” he warns. “I’ve got more rounds in me than you think.” Gabi grins, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah? Then keep the shirt on.”