THE DEFINITIVE VALENTINO ROSSI HAIR TIMELINE (1996-present)
- as composed collaboratively with fellow valentino rossi scholars on the basis of many (many) hours of determined and hair-pulling (haha) research.
(some conjecture required for the early years but hopefully more or less accurate)
On one hand, if that Ducati wasn't doodoo on wheels this would have been a Pecco win. On the other hand, BEZNAIA PODIUM IN MUGELLO AND PECCO PODIUMS BACK TO BACK!!!
Chapter Summary: One Valentino is pregnant, five months along and overflowing with joy with his mate by his side, he's ready to enter the final trimester and welcome his new baby. The other Valentino loves fucking Marc Marquez to fill his time between race weekends and is more than happy to be a fun uncle, but would never want to look after a kid full-time. One morning, they wake up in the other's body.
Read below or on ao3!
and yes this was in part post here back like last year I think? big thank you to @internet-crypt1d and @gointhewest for helping workshop this one!
When Marc gets home to his big empty house, he expects it to be quiet. Having helped Alex, his girlfriend and the dogs move into their new home, and with Gemma having moved out months ago when she walked into the motorhome and found him bent over the counter, his hand pulling on his hair. She wasn’t meant to be there that weekend; it was meant to be a surprise. He let him finish fucking him before he chased after her. She wasn’t impressed at that, nor was Alex when he saw the moving boxes come Monday.
All that to say, Marc was expecting the house to be quiet, but it’s not; there is a small, ever-present sobbing. Carefully and quietly, Marc picks up one of his trophies (It’s not his first pick as a weapon but worst comes to worst he could beat someone to death the golden plate he got from Phillip Island in 2015) and then he follows the sobs into the living room making sure to muffle his footsteps to make sure whatever lunatic made it into his house wouldn't hear him coming.
When he makes it to the living room, he finds something odd… in the centre of the room, someone has made something akin to a children's pillow fort with what must be all the pillows and the blankets in the house. He carefully approaches it, with the trophy still raised just in case, but as he looks over, he sees Valentino? Somehow, he was in his house, in Marc’s Ducati jacket, which looks far too small on him, especially with the pillows he’s shoved under it, which Marc only realises because Valentino has his arms wrapped around his midsection. His shoulders are shaking as he keeps crying. He has his nose hidden in the jacket. It’s never going to be the same. Valentino definitely stretched it out.
It takes Marc back. He hasn't seen Valentino this emotional in front of him since… since… well, he couldn’t really remember. He mainly sees Valentino in three states: angry, horny and happy. The former two he’s seen up close more often than he can count, mostly at the same time. He used to see that happiness up close. Now it’s just reserved for when Pecco or, more recently, Bez beat him in a race weekend. But he’s never seen him so upset; blind rage, Marc could deal with. He was used to that. But this was uncharted territory.
So uncharted that before he realises it Valentino has sensed his presence, he’s being grabbed by the neck and being dragged into the pile of pillows, barely able to throw the trophy to the side so he can catch himself, not wanting to break Valentino's hip by falling right on it “Marc! Thank God!” Valentino has developed an iron-tight grip on Marc’s neck, yet still takes care to avoid his arm even more carefully than he normally does.
Valentino buries his wet, snotty face in the crook of Marc’s neck; he's still crying as the sobs turn to sniffles. It takes Marc a moment to realise, but Valentino is sniffing him over and over again like he's searching for something. Honestly, while Marc normally likes Valentino close to him, seeing him like this? Totally broken. A sobbing mess. It is really freaking him out.
But like always with him and Valentino, they never say what they truly mean with each other. That’s how 2015 happened. No one wanted to risk that again. So rather than asking what’s wrong, he asks, “How did you get in here?”
Valentino sniffles, rubbing his face and snot all over Marc’s neck, then he pulls back, seemingly just to glare at Marc for his stupid question, “Through the front door?” Marc can’t help himself; he rolls his eyes “Yeah, but there’s a gate with a code, and you should be in Italy.”
He rubs his face on some of the pillows and blankets, and Marc is weirded out, actually freaked out might be a better word. Somehow deep down, he knows Valentino is looking for the comfort that Marc has never been able to give him, even when Valentino is out of his mind. “I still have my plane, I lost everything but the plane” Valentino sounds so sad. Marc wants to ask why, but he doesn’t; he just asks, “And the gate?”
Leaving Valentino to look at him like he grew two heads “It’s 1617. Our birthdays. Alex laughed at you because we weren’t even together yet, and you told a lie so terrible that the numbers were just random, but that was such a clear lie that Alex still makes fun of you for it. We laugh at you all the time.”
And that wasn’t a lie, that was the story Alex always made fun of him for, but Valentino doesn’t know that story he’s never been here also Alex and Valentino in the same room? Laughing together no less? That can’t possibly be true. No matter how much this hurts, he has to get to the truth. “ Okay, so you are here because?”
“Because everything is wrong! You smell wrong, everything smells so plain, and our mating marks are gone!” Okay, so Valentino must have had some type of terrible head injury, and for some reason, his brain has created this delusion where Marc is seen as a safe person for Valentino to come to in his current state. Any other day, he’d enjoy it with glee. But in the moment, it was far more worrying; he didn’t know what to do. It’s not like he could just call Salucci to come collect Valentino.
“Okay, okay, help me understand what happened since you woke up today.” Maybe he can get a clue of how bad the injury is and who he should call. His two best bets right now were a priest or an ambulance.
Valentino nods and Marc is ready to get the first clue in this mystery “I woke up at the ranch! Alone!” Marc falters at that with very, very confused “It’s where you live?” Valentino shakes his head like Marc is the one with amnesia and explains, “No, not since 2022! After I retired, I moved in with you!” The reveal is enough to make Marc's jaw hang open, in a way that would disappoint his Mother; he can almost hear her yelling ‘Shut your mouth or you’ll let flies in!’ actually he can hear that because between his tears Valentino’s hands have come to rest on his jaw gently shutting it, the touch feels amazing Marc would be lying if he said he wasn’t leaning into Valentino’s callous ridden hands that feel so loving on his cheek, he rubs his thumb as he says “Come on you know that look would make your mama sad.”
He doesn’t even think he can remember the last time his Mama and Valentino had an actual conversation, maybe in 2014 but that was a big maybe now days at most what would happen is Valentino would walk straight by them, or smack Marc’s ass without further comment which would of course lead to his Mama and Alex cussing out Valentino, sometimes when he could still hear them sometimes when he could not. Either way, as the years went on and Valentino let him back into his bed, Marc couldn’t bring himself to join in; he still longed for him.
“What do you mean you’ve lived here since 2022?” Before he answers Valentino huffs he pushes Marc around in the pillow fort a bit until Marc’s back is flush with one of the surprisingly well supported walls, his lap is open leaving Valentino enough space to lay down and curl in on it like a cat, he’s still cradling the pillow shoved under the Ducati jacket that has Marc’s name on it, which is driving Marc kinda insane. His poor dick is kinda overwhelmed.
He can’t help but pet his hair, running his hand through Valentino’s thinning curls, Marc swears he purrs like a cat that should have been put down five years ago, Marc still thinks it’s cute “It was summer break, you were healing the arm, you ended up stuck in a rut which somehow triggered my heat even though I was in Italy and nothing would stop either until I snapped, kinda stole someone else's jet and came begging to your door, and well you know how that goes.” No. Marc does not know how that goes.
But Valentino in heat? Like his grandma’s cat which she never got desexed? Humans don’t do that, “And I’ve lived here ever since!” Marc shakes his head, “No, I’ve lived with Alex. We only talk on race weekends.” Some race weekends, Marc should add, when both were pent up, and Valentino was looking for a warm body to take his rage out on, and without fail Marc let himself be used, every time.
Valentino scoffs at that and charges on, “And I have a dick again!" Valentino has always had a dick. Valentino loved fucking him with said dick and not much else. This is why they were in there hate fucking not-relationship relationship “When did you lose it?!” Marc cries out in horror that one could ever lose their dick and be this heartbroken about getting it back. Marc would miss his dick very much if it ever went away. Even if he doesn’t really use it since Valentino became the only person he slept with. Valentino cries back, “When I presented! Like every other male omega!” None of the words out of Valentino's mouth makes any sense, he wonders with a concussion this bad how he was allowed to fly “Male, what?”
His head moves up onto Marc’s chest, “And the worst part is I didn’t feel the baby kick, so I fling the sheets off the bed, and my stomach was flat, and for fuck sake I could see my toes again! I haven’t seen them in months!” Marc tilts his head “Isn’t that a good thing? I’d freak out if I couldn’t see my toes.” Valentino is still sniffing him, looking for something that isn’t there “Not if it means I can’t see our baby! Fuck my toes, I want our baby back!”
Valentino’s eyes, Marc’s hair, mixed together on a little tiny human is all that comes to Marc’s mind. Well, that and Valentino's belly growing big with Marc’s baby, would he grow boobs with enlarged and puffy nipples that Marc would suck on, helping Valentino feel good… Okay, that thought was interesting to Marc’s dick more than anything else. But that’s not what's important right now; what's important is that Valentino seems to think that a) he could get pregnant and b) he was at one point pregnant with Marc's baby of which he had lost and was now actively grieving. Valentino didn't even want kids. Last Marc checked, he loved being the cool uncle “A baby? My baby? Valentino, that's not possible. Why would we even want a baby together?!”
That was the wrong answer since Valentino starts sobbing again. At this point, Marc is left with no other choice, or as Alex would put it, Marc panics, “Okay! Okay! I might not know what you're talking about, but we can work this out, okay? We can make things right?” Valentino sniffles are impossibly loud. Marc has still never heard him this upset; he just can’t seem to calm down. “How about we stay here and cuddle and you tell me a bit about the- our baby?” Valentino looks up to him with pleading blue eyes, still wet with tears, and he says, “Really?” Disbelief dances on between the two syllable words.
Marc nods, sinking into the pillow fort and taking Valentino down with him, “Really, even if I don’t get it… Would it make you feel better? And maybe we can work out a way to make everything right?” Valentino actually smiles at him, with his eyes the same way he used to do in countless press conferences all those years ago, like Marc and him were the moon and the sun, and everything floated around them. And there they lived in their little bubble of happiness, with Marc thinking it would never burst. How foolish.
“Well, if she’s a girl, we are going to name her Catia, and for a boy, after I said no to Alex, we agreed on Emilio. I want the gender to be a surprise, but you’ve been dying to find out.” And as Valentino kept talking, Marc felt the warmth of the happiness bubble washing over him; he’d have to do something at some point, something was wrong with Valentino, very, very wrong, given the way he was talking. But also, it didn’t seem like he was actively dying, so it couldn’t hurt, right? Trying to put another baby in Valentino wouldn’t really hurt anyone long term. Besides, after all this, Valentino would never talk to him again, so he might as well do what he did best and go down swinging.
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