Fingers In My Hair
Pecco Bagnaia x Marco Bezzecchi
18+ Minors do NOT interact!!
Wordcount: 4.8k
Tags: smut, hair tugging, anal sex, choking, light dom/sub, possessive sex, some fluff at the end
Inspired by this pic:
Better late than never right @ray935sworld ?
------------------------------------------------------------------
“What the fuck did you do to your hair?” Cele all but shrieks when Bez walks in. The conversation which flowed easily just before comes to a screeching halt and everyone turns to look at his hair. Or better, his missing hair. None of them knew about his plan to get it cut. Honestly, Bez didn’t think it was such a big deal. All the curls were getting annoying to take care of, especially during race weekends, and his head just got too hot at this point. So he decided to cut it after the last race.
“I cut it,” he replies drily. Ignoring the different kinds of looks the others send his way. Cele is wide eyed and honestly looks a little offended. Luca hardly blinks an eye at the new look and just sends him a silent thumbs-up. Always the silent supporter. Franky and Andrea both give him a once over before turning back to their earlier conversation.
That’s when Bez notices that Pecco isn’t here. He tries not to be disappointed at the fact. Pecco was the only one whose reaction mattered. They’ve been best friends for ages. Sure, he’s known some of the others nearly just as long but things are different with Pecco. Their friendship is…he can’t really explain it because he doesn’t know what it is either. He just knows that with Pecco, things have always been both easier and more meaningful at the same time. They’re best friends for fucks sake. Of course his thoughts count the most to Bez. Besides Vale’s obviously.
The grin spreading on Cele’s lips is starting to make him worry though. Because that’s the grin the younger man always wears when he has mischief in mind. Which is often. But usually Bez is the first to be clued in on it. Right now though? Bez has this sinking feeling that Cele won’t tell him anything. So instead of waiting to see what Cele is about to say or do, he clears his throat to quickly change the topic. “Where are Vale and Pecco? I thought we’re meant to train today.”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because that unsettling grin only grows. It’s really starting to make Bez nervous. “Pecco’s Mom is in town so he promised her to show her around. And Vale is…busy,” Luca says. They all know what he means. They’ve all been victims to Marc and Vale…being busy on the ranch before at some point since the two of them got back together. Let’s just say, the two older men don’t really bother with being quiet. Or in appropriate spaces for…their activities.
“I swear if I have to listen to Vale beg to fuck Marc one more time I’m killing myself,” Andrea whines with a ahunted look in his eyes while the rest of them nod in solidarity. They’re no prudes. Hell, Bez has walked in on each of them and their partners at least once in their lives and vice versa. But there’s a big difference in seeing your buddy fuck than walking in on your mentor, your hero and the man you looked up to, on his knees, begging the man he claimed to despise for over a decade to let him fuck him. Or walking in on said ‘despised’ man lying on his chest, knees tucked under him, ass in the air and getting drilled into the bed like there’s no tomorrow.
The first time Bez saw them together he didn’t know if he should feel horrified or horny as fuck. He’s not blind, you know. He can confidently admit that Marc is very attractive, his scars just adding to it, and Vale? The fact that Bez had posters of the man on his childhood room’s ceiling should tell you enough.
Bez’ phone buzzing pulls him out of the confusing memories. “Pecco asked to meet up at the club after we’re done.” He gets excited ‘hell yeah’s from Cele and Andrea. Those two always look forward to getting drunk and making themselves look ridiculous on the dance floor. Something Bez joins in on more often than not. He enjoys dancing and if it gets him laid at the end of the night it’s a win for everybody in his books. After settling everything for later tonight they all get ready to train. Bez already has his helmet on so he doesn’t hear Cele whispering to the others, “I can’t fucking wait to see Pecco’s face.”
The music is loud and Bez can feel it in every bone as soon as they step into the club. The five of them are already drawing attention to themselves. It makes Bez walk with a bit more swagger and if he unbuttons his loose shirt just that much more so that everyone has a good view on his piercing? That’s between him and his shirt. He won’t lie, the new haircut came with a certain boost of confidence. Exactly what he needs tonight. It’s been embarrassingly long since he got laid. Even longer since he’s gotten properly fucked by someone. Maybe he’ll get lucky tonight.
To everyone's surprise Vale and Marc are already there with drinks in their hands. “I bet you a twenty that they’ll be humping each other in the next half hour before disappearing to the bathroom,” Cele whisper-yells in his ear. Bez shakes his hand with a laugh. “I give them fifteen minutes.” The younger man chuckles before that stupid grin comes back. This time, Bez knows exactly why it’s there. Because the hairs on the back of his neck stand up the moment he enters the room.
“Cele, who is your fri- Marco?” Bez tries so hard not to shiver at the way his name sounds when Pecco says it like that. It’s been years since he’s been Marco. He’s always just Bez. But tonight? Fuck, the way his best friend’s eyes widen and…darken? It feels like something has shifted and he’s not sure yet what to do with it. It’s probably all just in his head. Wishful thinking or something.
“Your hair-” “Looks good doesn’t it, Pecco?” Cele says, throwing an arm around Bez and carding his fingers through his curls, tugging slightly and making Bez hiss slightly. He hopes that Pecco doesn’t notice but by the way his jaw tenses, he does. “Yeah, looks good.” His reply is low and Bez shifts under the unreadable look in the other man’s eyes. Bez gets saved by Marc pulling him to the dancefloor. “Vale says he’s too old for it,” is his reason. But there’s a glint in the Spaniards eyes that makes Bez not believe him. He lets himself be dragged away anyway. Thankful for not having to look at Pecco anymore. His reaction was not what Bez imagined it to be. It kind of stings if he’s honest.
“Stop looking like a kicked puppy,” Marc teases and wraps his arms around Bez’s neck. Instinctively, Bez’ hands find the shorter man’s hips. “What are you doing?” he asks, noting and not liking the way Vale is staring at them from the bar. He has a full drink in his hand but makes no move to actually drink it. Marc hums and looks up at him innocently. “I have no idea what you mean.” The Spaniard leans in closer as the music turns into a sultry slow rhythm. “I’m about to do something and if it makes you uncomfortable you tell me.” His voice is serious but there’s a teasing glint in his eyes.
Curiosity gets the better of him and Bez just nods. Not knowing what to expect. Before he knows what’s happening, Marc starts grinding into him, making him gasp in surprise. He can see the silent question in the older man’s eyes and gives his hips a quick squeeze. The gesture causes a wicked grin to spread on Marc’s face. The two of them ‘dance’ like this for a while, grinding up against each other. Bez is already half hard and straining against his too tight pants. God, he really needs to get laid tonight. The song changes and suddenly Marc is being pulled away from him by Vale. The two of them are gone before his brain can even catch up.
“Mind if I swoop in?” a smooth voice asks behind him. Big hands are on Bez’ waist and his breath hitches when the stranger sneaks his pinky underneath his shirt, caressing the overheated skin there. “Sure,” is all Bez manages to say. A look over his shoulder tells him more about the guy. Tall, broad shoulders, dark short hair, clean shaven and tattooed. “What’s your name, beautiful?” And wow, that voice sends shivers down his spine. “Marco.” It comes out in a hoarse whisper. Stranger guy leans in closer, his warm breath tickling his neck as he plasters himself against Bez’ back. “I’m Enzo. Up for a dance?”
Bez nods and the next moment he finds himself with his head resting against Enzo’s shoulder, one hand buried in the man’s short hair. He’s pretty sure they’re not dancing anymore - if they ever even were in the first place. He can feel the other man’s hard cock press into his ass with every move and fuck he’s big. Bez’ mouth salivates at the pure thought of it. Lips caress his neck and he turns his head in silent permission. A gasp leaves him at the first kiss being placed on the sensitive skin. He’s losing himself in the feeling of it all before suddenly being rudely ripped away from it. It takes him by such surprise, that he stumbles into the person’s chest.
The smell hits him first and he swallows as he looks up at Pecco. But the man isn’t looking at him. No. His eyes are entirely on Enzo. There’s a heat in them - dangerous and hot at the same time - that Bez has never seen before. Not on Pecco. It sends a thrill down his spine and he tries to suppress the whimper threatening to slip out. And fails if the way Pecco’s fingers dig into his hips is anything to go buy. There might be bruises there tomorrow and this time, Bez doesn’t even hide his moan. He feels Pecco stiffen against him but his brain is way too overwhelmed right now to notice. Nor notice Enzo leaving after whatever his best friend - and let’s be honest, not-so-secret-secret-crush, just said to him.
“We’re going home,” Pecco growls and the way he says it leaves no room for arguments. Bez lets himself be led through the club, past their friends and a very smug looking Cele, before finding himself out in the warm night air. Fuck, Bez only had a single drink tonight but he feels tipsy. He loses his balance and leans into Pecco for support, burying his face in the other man’s neck. His head jerks back when a rough hand grabs his curls and tugs hard, forcing him to look up. The fire in Pecco’s eyes makes him moan and his cheeks heat up when he realises what he just did. He tries to pull away but Pecco’s grip on his hair doesn’t let him.
“God, you’re such a slut, Bez,” Pecco hisses, his voice dark and mean. It makes Bez want to shrink in on himself. “Didn’t-didn’t mean to make you angry, Fran,” he whimpers, looking up at his best friend with wide teary eyes. “What did you mean to do then, hm? First, grinding against Marc like that and then letting that guy all but fuck you in front of everyone? Don’t get me started on your slutty outfit and your new fucking haircut.” Bez’ chest squeezes painfully “M sorry, Fran. Please,” he begs and whimpers when the fingers tighten their hold in him. “Please what, Bez. Hm?” He doesn’t think before he says, “Please let me make it up to you.” It might just be the light or lack of it but he could swear Pecco’s eyes darken at his plea. Bez lets himself be tugged closer to the other man, can feel Pecco’s breath on his lips and if he could just move a tiny bit closer he could- “I can think of something you can do.”
Bez hardly remembers how they got back to the ranch. All he knows is that Pecco is right there next to him the entire time, his hand on his thigh, squeezing minutely. And it feels good. As soon as they’re in Pecco’s bedroom he’s being pushed up against the wall, one hand next to his head and the other gripping his jaw, making Bez look him in the eye. Not that Bez would want to look anywhere else right now. Because fuck, he’s seen the man mad before. But right now he’s seething. And it’s fucking hot. It takes everything in him not to try to grind against the leg Pecco slotted between his thighs.
“You acted like a real slut tonight, Bez. And do you know what sluts like you get?” It’s clear that Pecco doesn’t expect an answer from him so he stays silent. He swallows hard as the other man leans in closer, his beard rubbing along his neck and making his knees buckle. “They get fucked. Hard. Just like they want it. Like they need it. And you need it, don’t you, Bez? Need it so bad you squeeze yourself into these pants that leave nothing to the imagination and flaunt your tits around for everyone to see.”
A small whimper slips out of Bez and he’s nodding because yes, he does need it. He’s been needing it for weeks, hell months, and he’s desperate. And beyond caring about his neediness by now. He’d do anything for Pecco to touch him, to fuck him. To do anything to him. As long as he does something. “But I’m the only one who gets to touch you. To see you like this. Desperate. Needy. It’s all just for me, isn’t it?” Pecco murmurs hotly into his ear. Bez is nodding again, barely able to stay standing. “Just you.”
If it wasn’t for Pecco’s leg basically holding him up, he’d be on his knees right now. At the perfect hide to mouth at the man’s bulge and beg him to let him get a taste. Fuck, he’s already drooling at the thought. A hand gently cups his jaw, so different from what has happened tonight it makes him gasp in surprise. Pecco wipes away the small trail of drool before pushing his thumb into Bez’s waiting mouth. His lips instantly close around it and he moans at the way the other’s eyes darken when he starts to suck.
“Fuck, look at you,” Pecco groans as he looks at him in awe. It makes Bez bolder. He hollows his cheeks, really sucking the digit in and swirls his tongue around it, teasing it at the tip. All while imagining it’s Pecco’s cock instead. His hips move without him realising. He’s so lost in the weight of the other man’s thumb on his tongue. Bez’ eyes roll into the back of his head when the pressure on his aching cock suddenly doubles. His mouth drops open as a breathy moan escapes him. Fuck, that feels good.
When he manages to open his eyes again he’s met with a sinister smile on Pecco’s face as his hand drops from the wall down to Bez’ hip, squeezing it tightly and starts to roughly move him against his thigh. And all Bez can do is shake and moan as pleasure zings through his entire body. The zipper of his pants digs into his skin, adding a delicious pain to the mix and he’s already embarrassingly close to coming. Whines keep pouring out of his mouth around Pecco’s finger but he’s so past caring now. All he wants is to come. And it’s so close, the edge already there all he needs is just a little-
The next second Bez finds himself on his knees, a painful whimper sounding in the back of his throat as he stares up at Pecco with confused and teary eyes. A gentle hand comes to rest on the back of his head, playing with his longer curls. “Not yet,” Pecco rasps and a shiver runs down his spine at the roughness in his voice. The hand in his hair tightens slightly and starts pushing him forward until his lips touch the fabric of Pecco’s pants. He looks up at the man pleadingly. “Please, let me-” He doesn’t even have to finish his plea before he’s met with the hot thickness of Pecco’s cock.
Bez leans forward, placing kitten licks on the tip and reveling in the sound of Pecco’s breath hitching, his fingers tightening in his curls. Without any instructions, Bez decides to keep going. He places hot open mouthed kisses along the shaft and back up to the tip before taking it in his mouth and just staying there. Looking up at Pecco, he holds the other man’s gaze as he swirls his tongue around the tip, occasionally sucking it in deeper. Is he teasing? Maybe. But before he can take it further, Pecco starts pushing his head down on his cock. Achingly slow.
The feeling of his thick length sliding across his tongue makes Bez moan and his hips twitch, desperately seeking friction but being denied it. His hands find the other man’s thighs, digging his fingers into them as the head touches the back of his throat, making him gag. But Pecco doesn’t stop until his nose is touching his pubic bone. Bez’ eyes water as he struggles to breathe but he doesn’t shut them. He’s unable to look away from the sight before him right now. Pecco’s head is flung back, his eyes closed and his mouth open as he moans. That picture is now burnt into his mind forever. Once he feels good to continue he carefully tries to pull back a bit, just to see if Pecco will let him. He can’t move. At all. The grip on his hair is too strong. Bez starts to shift on his knees and whines at being denied. Does Pecco want him to beg? Because he’ll beg.
He doesn’t have to. Because the next moment, Pecco’s hips pull back until only the tip is still resting on his tongue before snapping forward again. Bez gags at the sudden assault, his nails digging into the other man’s skin so hard he’s sure there will be bruises. But Pecco doesn’t seem to mind. No, he’s moaning and cursing as he fucks Bez’ face fast and hard. Spit is dripping down Bez’s chin by now and he’s humping the air like a dog. His pants are way too tight and pressure is bordering on becoming too painful to handle. Pecco’s voice rips him out of his misery. “I’m close. You want to taste it, huh? Or do you want me to paint your pretty face white, mark you with my cum?”
Instead of answering, Bez hollows his cheeks and sucks him down deeper. That seems to be the right choice and it causes a string of moans to spill out of the other man. He doubles his efforts, needing to taste Pecco’s cum. He never needed anything as much as he needs this right now. Suddenly he’s being pulled off and he can’t suppress the disappointed whine from slipping out. “Open.” His mouth drops open instantly at the command and he sticks his tongue out without thinking about it. “Fuck yeah,” Pecco groans, his hand frantically stroking his cock. With a guttural moan he aims at Bez mouth and comes. The thick white cum coats his tongue and its salty taste makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. Bez’ body is shaking and before he knows it he’s pushed over the edge.
Panting, he rests his head against Pecco’s hip. His body is limp, like someone just cut the strings that were keeping him upright. The fabric of his pants clings to his now sensitive cock and he whimpers at the uncomfortable feeling of it. A hand gently grabs his chin, forcing him to look up at Pecco. The heat is still there in the other man’s eyes but his expression is softer now. It makes Bez want to bury his face into his chest and cling to him for the rest of the night.
“We can stop and go to bed,” Pecco whispers, his thumb caressing Bez’s bottom lip. The younger man shakes his head slowly. Stopping is the last thing he wants right now. “Want to feel you,” he croaks, his throat raw from taking the man’s cock so deep and rough. A shiver runs down his spine at the curse Pecco lets out in response and the way the heat is back in his eyes with a ferocity he’s never seen in them. Until now. It makes his chest heat up with pleasure that he’s the first one to be looked at like that by the older man.
Without another word, Bez is hauled up on his feet and all but thrown onto the bed. The air gets knocked out of him when he lands but he can’t suppress a giggle. It soon gets swallowed by Pecco’s lips as he pulls the younger into a hot and heavy kiss that makes his head spin. It’s filthy and wet and full of teeth. It’s hot. And Bez can already feel himself getting hard again just from that. He can’t help but gasp when a calloused hand comes to rest on his throat. Not squeezing. Just resting there. Like a claim of ownership. And fuck, if it doesn’t feel like heaven. The threat of his breathing being cut for even just a minute has him moan against Pecco’s wet lips.
They pull apart to catch their breath, never breaking eye contact for even a second. Their chests are heaving and a sheen of sweat is covering their bodies. “You really have no idea what you do to me, do you Marco?” the older man says, looking down at Bez’ limp form. His entire face is flushed a pretty pink and it’s starting to travel down his neck to his chest. His curls are sticking to his forehead and his eyes are glazed over. “The prettiest boy I have ever seen,” he whispers before diving down and placing kisses along Bez’ jaw, biting down on his earring and tugging lightly. The younger man hisses and Pecco quickly places an apologetic kiss to his throat. Soft lips soon make way for teeth.
“Got to make sure everyone knows your mine,” he growls and gets rewarded by a pretty moan and even more skin to mark up. “Yours. Only yours,” Bez pants and his fingers fist the sheets. Pulling away from his painting, Pecco carefully pries the younger man’s hands open and slides his in them. The feeling is so right it makes them both dizzy. “Should have done this a lot sooner,” Pecco murmurs, capturing Bez’s lips in another kiss. This one slower, heavier and oh so fucking good. He could spend ours just kissing the younger man.
“Please, Fran,” Bez whines against his lips and he allows himself one more kiss before pulling away to grab the lube from the nightstand. Pecco takes his time getting to where Bez wants him. He leaves a trail of kisses down his chest, stopping at his nipple, catching the metal piercing between his teeth and tugging meanly. The reaction is beautiful. Bez flings his head back against the pillow, his back arching and screams. It’s music to Pecco’s ears but he still gives the abused nipple a few apologetic licks before moving down the younger man’s stomach. Kissing. Licking. Biting. Anything to show Bez and everyone else that he belongs to Pecco. No one else gets to see him like this. Only Pecco.
Ignoring Bez’ twitching cock, Pecco goes straight to parting the younger man’s legs, lube already coating his fingers and he slowly rubs one over Bez’ hole. He smiles at the gasp it gets him and circles it a few more times, applying a bit of pressure every other time but never quite enough. Just enough to make Bez writhe against the sheets, breathy moans falling from his lips as he moves his hips trying to bare down on Pecco’s fingers. Incoherent pleas slip out of the younger man’s mouth. “Plea-” His last plea gets cut off by a deep and long moan when Pecco finally pushes the first thinger in.
“Fuck,” Bez whines as the older man starts moving at a slow pace, quickly adding a second finger and expertly finding that little bundle of nerves that light up his entire body. The younger man’s back arches off the bed at its assault. Pecco’s own patience is starting to stretch thin so he makes quick work of opening him up. Each drag is more maddening than the one before. Pecco shushes his whine of protest with a kiss when he pulls his fingers free. “Condom or no condom?” Bez’ eyes are wide, his pupils blown and he looks absolutely wrecked. “No condom. Need to feel all of you,” he whispers and Pecco rests his head on the younger’s shoulder with a groan. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
They both moan, low and drawn out, as Pecco slowly pushes in. Bit by bit. Until their bodies are flushed. And he makes Bez feel all of it, circling his hips in maddening circles. The tip of his cock rubbing against the younger man’s prostate and making it hard to breathe. To think. To do anything besides clinging to Pecco like his life depends on it. Soon their bodies move in sync, their hips meeting with every thrust.
It only takes a few well aimed thrusts to reduce Bez to a moaning, whimpering mess underneath Pecco. The older man drapes his body over him, their hands intertwined in the sheets next to Bez’s head. Pecco can’t look away from the man under him. The way his eyes are struggling to stay open, fluttering widely, his lips parted as he desperately tries to catch his breath. Pecco mindlessly whispers dirty praise into his ear, his fingers roughly grabbing his curls and tugging, making Bez’ head tilt back and offer up his neck. The strain is almost too much but he couldn’t care less. Not with the feeling of Pecco’s soft lips planting kiss after kiss over each bruise he left there earlier. Like the sweetest apology.
“Fran, ‘m close. Please,” he begs, forcing his eyes to stay open. He can feel Pecco’s rhythm stutter and knows the older man is not far behind. “Fuck, yeah. Come for me, Marco. Make yourself messy,” Pecco groans and with one final thrust aimed at his prostate, he’s pushed over the edge. His mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ and his eyes never leave Pecco’s as he paints their chests white. His entire body is shaking, sensitive and slowly bordering on pain. Bez’s free hand shakily gathers up some of his cum from his stomach and without thinking offers it up to the other man. Pecco welcomes his sticky fingers into his mouth easily and Bez watches with rapt attention as his eyes roll into the back of his head. A guttural moan vibrates in the older man’s chest as he slams himself inside as deep as possible and fills Bez with his cum.
The next time Bez opens his eyes, there is an arm slung around his waist and a strong chest pressed against his back. Warmth floods his chest and he snuggles back against Pecco who pulls him even closer. “I love you, Marco,” the older man whispers, suddenly shy. Though his hold on Bez stays firm. Not wanting to let go even while fearing for the worst. But he has nothing to fear. The younger man turns around in his hold until they’re facing each other, a hand gently cupping Pecco’s cheek as he closes the distance between them for a sweet kiss. His smile is blinding when they pull apart. “I love you too, Fran.” They fall asleep in each other’s arms, love and warmth surrounding them.
