tw: slight dom/sub dynamics, general ferrari sadness lol
The fireworks in Abu Dhabi left phantom echos in Sebastian’s ears, even hours later he was still hearing the explosions as he watched Charles laugh and mingle amongst his team, amongst his friends, his family, and the ones who let him down the most. Every bright laugh was like another firework, echoing through Sebastian’s entire body and making his head spin in the aftermath.
He was lurking, he knew, but he just wanted to observe everyone. Observe him, watch Charles as he pasted on his smile, dimples popping out as he laughed and giggled and pleased. Sebastian felt like a slight creep, if not because he was just standing in the corner, watching Charles with the intensity of a dedicated fan. But, he was overwhelmed by just how much he held inside his body, how much passion he had for Charles. How much he wishes he could convince Charles to call Horner back and accept his offers.
Max adored Charles. Everyone adored Charles. It would be fine, he thinks. If not a little interesting to see Charles in the RedBull. He just wishes he could rip Charles away from racing red, from legacy and tradition. From the way he holds his bleeding, aching heart in his hands and presents it to the fans, to the execs, to everyone. He wants to shove his heart back into his chest and shield him, put him somewhere where he can shine without the pressure crushing his dreams. He wishes he didn’t have to go to Charles’ drivers room and watch a motion picture of grief, of the illustrations of a man who was a boy inside who was watching his dreams get crushed.
Sebastian took a sip of his jagerbomb and watched how Charles danced around, pleasing everyone and giving them his time and attention, fiddling with his bracelets, spinning his rings. He was acting drunker than he really was.
He was upset and discontent. Second was amazing given the circumstances of his year. It was quite extraordinary that despite all the issues he had, he managed to keep it above water and gamble. But for people like Charles, people like Sebastian, like anyone who is a champion, whether they have their name on that trophy or not, he was not content or happy with a second place finish when he should have been number one.
It was crushing to watch someone who possessed more talent in his pinky than most did in their whole body feel like he was a failure and not enough. Charles would tell everyone that he was okay, but Sebastian still feels the tremble of his body as he held him back in July. Once in France and then again in Hungary, right after he announced his retirement.
If he had known what was to come when he had made the decision to retire, he wouldn’t have done it. He would’ve waited, maybe another year. Aston Martin had offered it to him, but he decided he had other things he wanted to focus on. That was before the most important thing came back to him and then he told him he was leaving him to fight on his own, right after he had promised him he would be there by his side.
Sebastian supposes he once again shares Charles’ sentiments of feeling crushed on all sides by his commitments and feelings of devotion. Charles’ were to a cage that had held him in since he was a boy, outshining everyone. Sebastian’s were to Charles.
He watches as Charles finally notices he was there, the way his green eyes light up and his real smile slips onto his face as he walks over. Looking at Charles hurts in a way that he cannot explain. He knows better than him, knows better that all Ferrari will give him is disappointment and a breaking heart. He knows that Charles’ mission is almost futile with the current administration. But, he can’t help but believe with him. He will do it, if anyone can.
It’s like looking at a mirror, a mirror that taunts him. A mirror that reflects all the worst and best parts of himself back.
“Seb!” Charles says, all the excitement that he’s always possessed when he sees him. Sebastian’s face breaks into a smile as Charles parks himself in front of him, looking down his nose at Sebastian with adoring eyes.
“I’m proud of you, Charles.” Is what he opens with. He’s a little embarrassed actually. He didn’t mean to get straight into it, but with Charles he can’t just be normal and say the normal formality. He has to crack his own heart open just to match him, just to let him know someone somewhere sees him in his raw naked form and believes.
Charles’ head tilts and Sebastian wants to hide him.
“Thank you, baby.” Is his reply and Sebastian wants. He wants this stupid man who played him like a fiddle at the age of 21, 22, 23. The man who has anger so red it could rival his greatest love. The man who screamed that he was coward while Sebastian’s cum was still running down his thigh.
“Are you busy or have you made your rounds?” He asks, feigning curiosity. Charles just laughs at him. He supposes he isn’t subtle in any manner when it comes to him.
“I have time for you.” Sebastian stands up, taking him by the hand and leading him to the private bathroom, setting both their drinks somewhere. He didn’t care if they were taken or tampered with, he had other thoughts on his mind. Like how he could prevent Charles from attempting to give him a blowjob and how quickly he would be able to get Charles’ pants around his ankles so he could finger all those pretty sounds out of him.
Charles Leclerc, against common belief, was very bad at sucking dick.
He was even worse the first time they did this, all the way back in Austria in 2019, but the improvement he had made did not fill the whole deficit and no matter how much he practiced on Sebastian, he just was terrible.
It was a shame because he looked so pretty with his mouth on Sebastian, lips stretched around him and eyes watery, his stubble rubbing and catching on the sensitive inner thighs of Sebastian, rubbing the pale skin raw.
It was another shame that he unabashedly loved it, would try and get his mouth on Sebastian. The passion made up for it some, so did Sebastian’s endless pool of want. But even those two factors did not mitigate the feeling of his overly sharp teeth grazing over the foreskin and how deep unpleasant it was when he attempted to get his tongue in on the action.
Sebastian still let him, just because he looked so beautiful when he did it, but even coaching him through it didn’t work. The downside of his stubborn boy. He was always half praise drunk and Sebastian couldn’t help but indulge.
Sebastian locked the door of the bathroom and pulled Charles close by his waist. Charles looked at him through his lashes and Sebastian yearned so badly it made him throb, every bit of him. He kissed him, tasting the vodka and ginger beer from his moscow mule as his tongue traced the shape of Charles’ mouth against his.
He put a hand up Charles’ shirt, feeling his waist, the sweat that had collected on his back from being in a sweaty, crowded room. Sebastian felt depraved with how he wanted to lap up every bit of Charles.
“Seb. I don’t deserve-“ Sebastian put a hand over his mouth, then on his cheek.
“Shut up.” He commanded, firm. “I’ll decide what I think you deserve.” Charles looked at him, eye searching and then shook his head, but he didn’t say another word. Sebastian kissed his jaw, whispering words to Charles between every single press.
“You did so well.”
“My good boy.”
“The best driver I’ve ever seen.”
“You deserve it.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“You did this.”
Charles whimpered with each word out of his mouth, like it hurt him a little to hear. Maybe it did, but Sebastian wasn’t going to stop until Charles knew that he was proud of all he’s done.
Sebastian gently turned him around, kissing the back of his neck as he said “You look so good, tonight. My champion.”
Charles’ hips rocked and Sebastian tsked, grabbing his hip to keep him still as he trailed his other hand down his spine, tugging his jeans down when he got to the waistband, spreading Charles’ legs as his hand continued to trail down his spine, over his ass. He was teasing him down, watching as he tried to move his hips and the stilled, pressed between wanting to get off and wanting to listen.
He trailed a finger tip over his taint and his balls, causing an aborted moan to escape Charles’ mouth.
“Please Seb, this is unfair.” He was breathless but he was only focused on Sebastian.
“I’m getting to it. You’re impatient.” Sebastian replied, moving the hand from his hip to dig into his pocket, pulling out his travel sized packet of lube, warmed from hours in his pocket. He ripped the corner off with his teeth and squeezed it onto Charles’ lower back, coating his fingers in the liquid.
He traced around his rim, trying to get him to relax into it. He pressed his finger in slowly, Charles exhaling at the intrusion. He crooked his finger, feeling for that spot inside of him. Sebastian had a mission.
He pressed onto his prostate, Charles’ breathy whines turning into a shout as he circled it slightly. Sebastian smiled, shallowly thrusting his finger in and out of him before adding another one.
The sound Charles made had Sebastian’s dick twitching where it was ignored in his pants. He felt almost set on fire with the soft groans Charles let out as he thrust his fingers in and out him, brushing over his prostate and teasing him.
“Seb, what are you doing?” He panted, his head tilted to look at him. Sebastian pulled his fingers out, smiling at him. He kissed his shoulder where his button up had fallen down. He slipped a third finger into him, pressing on his prostate causing Charles to shutter hard, a moan falling from his lips as his head fell forward, cheek pressing against the tile
His hips gave aborted thrusts against the wall, and Sebastian grabbed his hip, holding him still. He pulled his fingers out of him and pulled another packet of lube, tearing it open and spread it over himself as he pushed his own jeans below his balls, grabbing Charles’ hips.
He pressed into him in one swift move, his groan mixing with Charles’ as he bottom out. Charles tried to fuck back onto him as Sebastian settled into him. He had him pinned there, needy and under his mercy.
Sebastian tsked, pulling nearly all the way out as he said “Charles. I’m not going to fuck you until you say you deserve all of this.”
Charles froze and looked over his shoulder at him, eyes a little glassy as he furrowed his eyebrows. He shook his head, confused and Sebastian felt so affectionate, he loved him so much.
“Okay.” He said softly, going to tuck himself back. It was hard to resist but he couldn’t let Charles get away with being so down on himself, so convinced that for all his success and talent, he had failed and that it was all on him.
He leaned in and kissed Charles, wrapping his hand around him and slowly stroking him, quick and efficient as Charles gasped into his mouth, head shaking from side to side as he tried to protest.
“No-Seb, please. I want-I need you to fuck me.” Charles whispered to him as Sebastian’s hand slowed on him.
“Say you deserve it. That you’re a champion.” Charles’ whimpered was broken as he lightly squeezed him, holding onto him and holding him up.
“I’m not. I didn’t succeed, so I’m not.” Was his reply and Sebastian just hummed, letting go of his dick entirely. The look of devastation and desperation on Charles’ face was almost enough for Sebastian to let it go and just fuck him against the wall.
“Please, babe. Please, I need it.” Sebastian cupped his face and kissed his nose, his cheeks, his jaw. He wanted to provide Charles with everything before they had to separate, Sebastian going to Switzerland and Charles going home to Monaco. He also wanted Charles to believe that he was actually worthy of being proud of.
“We’ll try again, baby. Later.” Charles’ face wrinkled into something devastating and Sebastian pressed another kiss to his lips, sighing softly as he pulled away and slipped out.
“Where were you? Asked Britta when he sat back down. Sebastian shrugged, a smile playing on his lips as he crossed his arms. Charles appeared, smiling at the bartender, but his face was flushed, his button up still unbuttoned a little too much.
Charles laughed and Sebastian heard the echo of the fireworks in Abu Dhabi, bright and loud against the night sky, signaling they were done for a while before it starts again.
Only faint sounds of breathing could be heard on the radio as everyone in the team waited with bated breath to hear their driver was okay - charles/seb
Sebastian couldn’t help but chew on his thumb nail, watching the footage over and over. It was so cruel how they just kept fucking replaying the moment that Charles’ tires slipped off the line, and his car spun and spun, flipping over and over. It was replaying in front of Sebastian’s eyes and the wagyu steak from catering was turning in his stomach.
Deep heaving breaths came from the radio, nothing else. Charles had pressed the button so he had to have been semi-conscious, but Seb had so many flashbacks to all the crashes he’s seen, the crashes he’s driven past, the funerals he’s attended-
“Putain.” Charles groaned through the radio, the hurt echoing through his voice as the marshals attempted to pull his car over. Sebastian watched on the cameras as Charles released himself from the seat, his body slowly crawling out of the car before he sat down, the medical car almost tipping with the force that it braked, the doctor spilling out to evaluate Charles.
Sebastian had to turn away from the monitor, the silence on track speaking for itself as everyone held their breath. He couldn’t watch, he couldn’t do anything. He wishes he could convince Charles to leave this sport.
He knows in that moment that he has phone calls to place.
Charles’ skin crawled as he peeled off the race suit and fireproofs. (Hurt/comfort?)
Charles’ skin crawled as he peeled off the race suit and fireproofs. He needed them off right now. No, he needed them off the fucking second he crashed into the wall. Maybe he should have never put them on in the first place. He wants desperately to have never even hopped in the kart, angry tears streaming down his cheeks as he kicked everything into a corner, the racing red just as angry and horrifying as Charles himself.
He is laid bare, covered in only his boxers and yet he feels more covered than he did when everyone heard his screams over the radio, his heavy breathing, and the absolute fucking devastation that ran through him. That wasn’t meant for anyone but himself and the inside of the helmet and yet, the whole world heard his screams, heard his frustration, his anger, his most raw vulnerable moments.
Charles is still standing there, bare in the middle of his driver’s room when the door creaks open.
“If this is about the fine, it’s like this. I’ll pay.” Was all he said, still turned, still staring at the bright white flimsy walls. He wonders if it would crumble under his hands like everything else has. If maybe he could rip it down and let something out. It felt like slow dripping magma down his spine, reluctant to cool down and building.
“No, Charles.” He turned to look over his shoulder at Sebastian, his tears still streaming as he shook his head.
“Leave.” Was all he managed. Sebastian, clad in the wrong color, shook his head. Charles looked back at the wall, still crying, silent and angry.
His dreams were wrecked. Ruined and shred into tatters, his best chance at becoming a champion for not only himself but for his father, for Jules, for Sebastian, for Monaco. Those were thrown in the garbage, ripped up and stomped on like everything he fucking touched.
Sebastian touched his shoulder and Charles turned around, falling into his chest as he sobbed. He was shaking, trembling in his arms and spiraling apart. He couldn’t do this anymore, years of endurance and suffering just to lead to this. Nothing but a 2nd place finish at the end of it all, if he was lucky.
Considering Charles’ track record, it wasn’t likely.
“Ruined. It’s all ruined.” Sebastian shushed him, carding his fingers through his hair as he held him tight. Sebastian was still sweat soaked from a race out in the July heat. He smelt like a form of home that Charles couldn’t even dream of going on to elaborate on.
“No, it’s not.” Sebastian said to him, and Charles wanted to scream at him too, maybe rip him down as well. Yes it was.
“Don’t. Don’t do these things to me. Lying to make it better when it’s not better. I ruined it. Everything that I did, everything that Jules did, everything Papa did. It’s all gone. Like that. Because I couldn’t manage the rear…it’s unacceptable. I’m not a champion, I’m a-a failure.” He spat it out, raging and wanting to scream some more.
“You can still do this Charles. Maybe not this year, I don’t think you’re ready. But you can still do it.” Sebastian grabbed his face, looking at him with steady blue eyes. Charles was brought back to Bahrain, his very first race with Ferrari.
“You are too good to not be a champion.” Charles pushed his hands off, shaking his head.
“Maybe when I was still 21, but not anymore. I am a failure. This performance, this whole year, this is unacceptable.” Sebastian scoffed as he stepped back.
“If you continue to talk like that, you’re right. Maybe you are a failure.” That hurt even more than the crash did and Charles felt shocked for just a few seconds and Sebastian stepped closer to him again, pulling him close as he pressed their noses together.
Charles wanted to shove him hard, how dare he-he was crying again, he realized.
“Please not this.” He whispered as Sebastian pressed a kiss to his lips, hesitating just a little.
“I’m proud of you, Charles. You are a champion. Stop putting yourself down or letting Mattia tell you otherwise. You’re the champion. You’re the number 1.” Charles surged up to kiss him, deeper, desperate as he gripped Sebastian’s long hair.
“Please come back with me. Just tonight.” Charles felt 20 again. Desperate for Sebastian’s attention, for his affection, for his praise. He felt 23 again, angry at Sebastian for leaving him and full of piss and vinegar about it. Jealous and upset and looking to get revenge on everyone about it.
He also felt 24 (nearly 25). Just needing Sebastian to soothe the endless ache he felt from his own failures, from years of failing to achieve the goal that he set out for himself.
“You haven’t invited me back since-“ Charles shook his head this time.
“Please come home. I need you right now, Seb. Please.”
Sebastian stepped away, grabbing Charles’ shirt, slipping it over his head to cover him, slightly breaking the moment. He held onto Charles’ waist over the shirt as he pressed a kiss to his dimple, not saying a word as he kissed his face.
“I’ll see what I can do.” is what he said after what felt like a century
In 505 au how old are Lexa and Clarke? An age gap could possibly lead to some misunderstandings between them, right? Like they're at different points in their lives?
hm the age difference isn’t that large between them. clarke is 21, lexa is 24. and i think that they’re not...actually at very different places? lexa has been stuck for a long time. clarke is just starting to be stuck. they’re together bc they find a sort of commonality with each other.
In regards to that 505 ask, yeah any season 3 character. Do you think you'll include any of them, like Nia, Roan, Pike, etc.?
hm probably not.
there’s just not really space for them? there’s a lot tied up with clarke, lexa, raven, and anya. those are the the only four characters you really see much regularly. there are appearances from other characters but these four are are the forefront.
505: Does Aden, Niylah, or Titus play a role? Do you think you'll include some of the season 3 characters?
aden.....is a tentative yes. there’s a character he could be, that i technically made up before there was an actual canon character that could fit the role. so im thinking i will change the character to aden so aden actually plays a big role, but in a very very sad way.
