okay so i decided that it's time for me to Grow Up and start posting like fic snippets/teasers or whatever but the problem is that my writing speed is like.... i can't say negative because that's not possible, but like. abysmal very low. AND. i only have one actual WIP at work (as in the fic i've started and will probably finish in the foreseeable future) so. yeah.
anyway setevale rpf summer i guess and im doing the winner's room trope but there's like.... more to it (at least i will try to make it "more" you know)
“I thought you’d pick Biaggi.” Valentino says finally breaking the silence when Sete sits down on the edge of the bed, covered with stiff white sheets. “You two looked pretty busy out there.” He jokes and tilts his head – he is not wrong, shaking Max off wasn’t easy and Valentino knows that first hand.
“Should I have chosen Max?” Sete shifts a little, trying to sit up more comfortably, but the leathers keep him in place and he is not in a hurry to take them off just yet. “Would you recommend him?” He leans back on his arms and spreads his legs, mirroring Valentino’s pose.
“He’s… an acquired taste.” The scrunch of Vale’s nose and the slight eye roll says more than any words ever would. Sete hums in response – there’s no reason for Valentino to make Biaggi look better than he is, if anything he might be downplaying the quality of his experience. “Depends on what you like.”
“I like winning. I think.” Sete replies and licks his lips, watching Valentino stand up and unzip his leathers entirely as he frees himself from the tight sleeves. He glances away for a second, noticing a couple of smudges his dusty and wet from the rain suit has left on the sheets.
The winner’s room time is limited and it happens right after the podium, which always seemed a little bit strange to Sete until he ended up in the room himself. The rush from the race still lingers, the emotions are still fresh, and the nerves are still raw. Not only the colours of their leathers pop out in the clean and bleak surrounding, but their voices as well, the way they both smell – like fuel, like sweat, like champagne, like the rain. In any other case it would probably be a little bit nauseating, a little bit disgusting even, but watching Vale kick off his boots and shed his leathers coated in rain and champagne is none of those things. It’s exciting.