"Well why don't you take your own suggestion to yourself?"
With anger covering up his rational thoughts, Pecco slammed the door right in front of Alex's face, leaving him alone.
They argue a lot, he admits, they make up fast too, not that they usually let it goes on race weekends. Misunderstandings happen. Normally, Alex or he, will approach the other later. However, this time it's different, he had avoided trying to understand his partner's view, and they have to work tomorrow. Which means, they won't find much time to see the other, considering that they haven't told anyone about their relationship, for safety reasons. Not even the brother, yes. Plus they have to focus on the championship that's going on.
–
Great. Pecco is ignoring him. He doesn't understand, it's not a big thing, they can just talk it out, no need leaving him behind in what's-supposed-to-be-their-house (they haven't talk about it yet).
He sighed, put on his helmet and walk to his bike, he will—no they will solve it later. Now it's work hours.
Turns out, work hours aren't that nice either. He fell off the bike, scrapped his arms on the gravel, which still stings but he's back on the bike, no bones feels broken so it'll be fine, he thinks. He still need to get into Q2.
The practice session goes on, a few minutes left, and Alex is able to go fastest, P1. Unbelievable, considering that he just fell and Marc has been so strong. He saw the name under his, it's Pecco. He wondered if he noticed that too, if they weren't fighting he knows that his boyfriend would be annoying about this, as if it's the main race, not everyone can experience having a 1-2 with their partner, Pecco would say. How he missed him already.
—
The "Mr. P2" title keeps following him, it seems. He had started from P4, overtaking Pecco in the early laps, until Fabio crashed while battling Marc. Of course they're back on the typical podium. The crowd is chanting Marc's and his name, but the only thing he felt is Pecco's eyes on his back. One more day. One more day and they'll be fine again.
—
The engine is roaring underneath him, his team on the left side waiting, already celebrating. It is happening. His first ever MotoGP win. Euphoria rushed over his body, he went on another lap after being handed the Spanish flag, savoring the moment. Alex arrived in parc ferme later, receiving hugs and many affectionate slaps from the his family and the team. He is a championship leader now.
He averted his eyes, and it looks like Pecco had finished his interview, they locked eyes as the man approached him. Pecco gave him a light hug, "Congratulations," Alex patted his shoulder, "Thanks," voice too small he's not even sure if Pecco heard him.
They walked to the cooldown room, side to side, with Fabio in front of them. They arrived at the room, the TV playing some highlights from the race, until Fabio turned his head towards Alex, "How was the-?" he gestured at Alex's arm.
"It's fine, just a few bruises," he shrugged his shoulders, Fabio nodded.
Now Pecco is confused. Did he miss something? From what he conveyed from the conversation, Alex has bruises that probably came from a crash in one of the session they had completed. The more he thought about it, he felt horrible. Not only he had let his emotions got the best of him, he might also be the last person to know about his own boyfriend's "injury". A small misunderstanding shouldn't make him disregard Alex's whole existence.
Someone called their name, it's time to get on the podium.
Pecco heard Alex's name being called for the first position, he looked to his right, Alex is waving to the crowd, his eyes are tearing up. He lifted the trophy, kissed it, hold it close before putting it down, the Spanish anthem is playing. Pecco stole some glances to look at Alex, who’s singing along, pride slowly filling his heart. He knew, always, that this day will arrive, he never doubted Alex’s ability even if he’s harsher with himself. He felt lucky to share this special podium, to be up here with his lover.
The melody ended, he grabbed the prosecco bottle near and starts spraying it at everyone, it is obviously more targeted at Alex, no one would realize the dynamic shift between them, they are all celebrating. They clinked their bottle, drank some of the leftover champagne, he can still feel the energy beaming from Alex, his smile hadn’t fade even after the photographer finished taking the podium photo.
—
Gresini sure do take their party time seriously, it had been an hour since Pecco had sneaked into Alex’s motorhome, well he already gained the access since they got together, but calling it “sneaking in” gives more surprise element into it. He gets it though, first win is always special, especially with a team that treats you like a family.
He gets up when he heard steps outside, that should be Alex.
The door opened, Pecco immediately cups Alex's cheeks, pulling him into a kiss. Alex's hands finally found their way around Pecco's waist, drawing him closer. Their gazes are still on each other eyes as they break apart, waiting someone to start talking first.
It's Pecco who interrupted the silence, "Ah congratulations, again, for the win, also I'm sorry for being a shitty boyfriend, and I've missed you," he blurted out.
Alex blinked three times before he burst into laughter, Pecco looked at him awkwardly, he thought that Alex would still be mad at him.
"You're so tense, thank you though for saying that, I was preparing to still be ignored actually," he teased.
Pecco wants to roll his eyes, but then he remembered again about the injury. He wrapped his hands around Alex’s hand that he assumed to be the one that's bruised.
"I know what you're thinking, I'm fine now, they'll heal overtime," Alex said, trying to reduce Pecco's worry.
"I should've been there for you."
"You were busy too okay? And if it's something big I'd have someone delivering the news to you, so no need for the stress, I'm here right now is what's important."
That did ease Pecco's mind, he nodded, Alex smiled from his reaction, "Well I'm still sticky from all the champagne so if you let me-" he gestured at the bathroom's door.
Pecco let go of Alex's hand, "Yes you can of course, I'm sorry,"
"No need to apologize for that, I know you have missed me so much," Alex teased him again.
He can't even deny that one, Alex is right. He does miss him, their time together, thank God all the madness from this week made him realize all that. They can finally take their rest while being in each other's arms, a routine for them.
#6373 Willibald Three Hands (Canada) Big ups to @nathandoesbeer for this bad boy! Willibald are a brewery I rarely get hold of, so it’s always a pleasure to get them in me. This is an 8.3% DIPA with Galaxy, Vic Secret and Amarillo, it pours hazy with a foamy head and candied peaches on the nose, the body is creamy and not over the top for the ABV, there’s some citrus vibes here (lemon, orange), a touch dry, mild hop born, incredibly easy drinking for north of 8%, ending in a dusty, clean finish. Genuinely dope af. (at Montreal, Quebec) https://www.instagram.com/p/CP4_ZcbF4ch/?utm_medium=tumblr
