For princessrosberg who asked for Hulkenrez fic yesterday.
Sergio is a businessman with a terrible sports car that seems to break every two minutes. Nico is a mechanic who is allergic to shirts.
Sergio refuses to believe that his car is approaching the twilight of its life. He bought the car a few years ago when he got promoted at work. It’s a Ferrari 612 Scaglietti, in silver. He loves it, washes it himself every other weekend. However, today, the car manages to get him to work before it splutters to a halt and dies in the car park.
Sergio curses in Spanish and lets his head hit the steering wheel. He’s already late for work; the car wouldn’t start this morning and he hasn’t even had his breakfast yet. He shakes his head, making a note to call a mechanic in his break.
He leaves his car, locking it and stalking towards the offices where he works.
Sergio is on his break; he flicks through a motoring magazine whilst he idly eats a banana. It’s not until two minutes before his break is due to end, when he realises that he needs to call the mechanic. He curses under his breath and grabs the directory from the bottom drawer of his desk. He flicks through the pages, one eye on the clock; he’s got a meeting with some of the other bosses in the division in about five minutes. He manages to find the mechanic listings. He scans down the page.
Hamilton & Rosberg
No, he’d been to them before. They’d said it was a braking problem when there was smoke coming out of the cooling vents, the engine was practically on fire. They also seemed to argue over the tiniest thing.
Scuderia
Not a chance, last time he went there, the blonde guy with the steel grey eyes told him that his car was shit (which Sergio already knew, thank you very much) and that the best thing for it was to let it go to the scrapyard.
There’s a few others that he’s either tried before or he just refuses to go to. However, the one near the bottom of the page catches his eye.
Force India
First class service in repairs, servicing and MOTs
01327 850800
Sergio dials the number, keeping an eye on the time. The meeting is about to start in a minute and a half, according to his watch. He fiddles with his pen, doodling a car in the margins of the directory as he is connected.
“Hello, Force India. Nico speaking, how may I help?”
“Hi, I’d like to book my car in, please for repairs.”
The man on the other end, Nico, makes a noncommittal sound and clicks his tongue. “Okay, you are the luckiest man alive. I have got a spot this evening if you would like to book now?”
“Yes please.”
“Bring the car in for about half past five. What kind of car do you have?”
“A Ferrari 612, Scaglietti.”
“Terrible car.” The man tuts.
“What is wrong with Ferraris?”
“There’s nothing wrong with Ferraris, just the one you have is one of the worst cars known to man.” The man replies, he chuckles into the phone. Sergio frowns. This man is annoying him already, he hasn’t had any coffee.
There’s a knock on Sergio’s door. “Hold on a moment.” He says briskly.
“Come in.” He says.
One of the new interns enters the room. “Mr Perez, they’re waiting for you in the boardroom.”
“Tell them I’m having an urgent phone call. I should be about two minutes.” Sergio says, grin plastered on his face.
The intern nods and quickly leaves.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. So anyway, back to your car. It drives terribly, it’s like riding a horse. And the design is terrible.”
“Stop insulting my car or I will be forced to take my business elsewhere.” Sergio says, carefully.
“I can’t help it if your car is one of the worst cars you could have bought.”
“Look,” Sergio butts in, changing the subject. “Is that everything? I have to go.”
“Just your name please.”
“Sergio Perez.”
“Okay, Mr Perez. Bring your crime against cars to the garage at half past five please.” The man says, cheerily.
Sergio hangs up.
Arsehole, he thinks.
He manages to get through the day and he’s looking forward to going home and preparing a roast dinner. His car this time thankfully starts but he can hear from the roar of the engine that something is not quite right.
He’s in Waitrose looking at ready-prepared chickens when he checks his watch. He was supposed to have dropped his car off at the mechanics twenty minutes ago.
He quickly pays for the chicken and leaves the supermarket, heading towards the mechanics.
He pulls into the mechanics garage and steps out of his car.
The garage looks empty, there’s a radio blaring out from somewhere playing some dance music. Sergio glances around, trying to spot an office.
However, as he moves closer to one of the cars, he spots a man.
A man wearing nothing but a pair of tight jeans, he’s shirtless, the bare expanse of his back on show.
He’s singing along to the Britney song as he twirls his wrench around, fixing one of the nuts into place.
Sergio is frozen in place as he watches the beautiful man check on the fittings. He stops for a moment and pushes his blonde hair away from his face.
“Excuse me?” Sergio finally calls out.
The blonde man whips around and gives him a wide smile. “Hello, I’m Nico Hulkenberg. I own the garage, how can I help?”
“You could start by putting a shirt on.” Sergio says.
The blonde – Nico – laughs. It sounds familiar to Sergio. “Sorry, man, it’s really hot in here and with me being the owner of the garage, I tend to do what I want to do.”
Sergio grits his teeth. Nico smiles and glances over, his gaze hitting Sergio’s Ferrari.
“Oh, you’re Mr Perez right?” Nico says. “You’re a little late.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. You’re a little underdressed.” Sergio fires back. “Are you going to fix my car or not?”
“Of course I can fix your car. It’s going to be hard though, I just want to take out a sledgehammer and smash it.” Nico admits.
Sergio raises an eyebrow.
“What?” Nico shrugs. “It’s silver as well. Why do you have a silver Ferrari? Ferraris are supposed to be blood red.”
“Maybe I did it to upset mechanics like you who are scared of shirts.”
Nico laughs. Sergio hands him the keys. His gaze flickers over Nico’s chest one more time before he leaves, there’s a trace of a smile on his lips.
The next day, Sergio is in a meeting with an important client when his mobile phone goes off.
He clicks ignore.
However, his phone rings again a minute later.
He excuses himself for a moment.
“Hello?” He hisses, not bothering to hide his anger.
“Mr Perez, it’s Nico from Force India. Your car is all fixed and ready to be picked up.”
“…You fixed it?” Sergio says, his tone is one of disbelief.
“Of course, I fixed it.” Nico says with a laugh. “It was a simple problem really.”
Sergio is silent for a moment.
“Okay, I guess I sounded like a righteous prick…I’m somewhat of an expert with Ferraris. But anyway, I fixed your car.”
“Okay, I’m in a meeting right now, thank you. I’ll be in after work.”
“I’ll take my shirt off ready for you.” Nico teases.
Sergio’s client glances at the blush on his cheeks and asks how his wife is doing. Sergio shrugs off his comment.
Sergio is deep in conversation on his Blackberry when he enters the garage, he’s yelling something down the phone at his suppliers. He angrily ends the call.
Nico is standing before him, shirt off, surveying him with raised eyebrows and a smile.
“Let me guess, he never called you back?”
Sergio snorts. “Work actually, some idiot misplaced one of our orders. I guess you could say he never called me back, but it was about a hydraulics system, rather than a date.”
Nico’s blue gaze meet Sergio’s. “That’s such a shame.”
He winks. Sergio feels the blush on his cheeks. “So is everything okay with the car?”
Nico nods and hands back the keys. Sergio feels a jolt inside his chest when Nico’s fingers graze against his own. Nico smiles. “See you later.” He says and walks away.
Sergio gets into his car in a daze. He glances back across the garage. Nico is bent over a car bonnet, fiddling with something in the engine.
There’s a stripe of motor oil across his cheek. His skin seems to glisten in the sunlight.
Sergio lets his head hit the steering wheel once more. He’s so screwed. He likes the mechanic who seems to have an allergy to shirts.
The problem Nico insisted was fixed, however, resurfaces again the next morning.
Sergio whips out his Blackberry and dials the garage. It rings twice before it’s picked up.
“Force India, Nico speaking. How can I help?”
“Hello, it’s Sergio Perez-“
“Ah, yes, the bloke with the bad Ferrari who takes offence to my nakedness.”
Sergio snorts. He’s getting used to Nico’s sense of humour. “Yes..well, you know how you said you fixed the problem. I don’t think you did. My car is sitting in the car park at work, it broke this morning.”
Sergio hears a sigh on the other line. “Okay, hold on-“ He hears shuffling. “Bring the car in after you finish work tonight. I’ll fix it for you.”
Sergio raises an eyebrow. “Okay, thank you.” He replies and hangs up. He leans back in his seat for a moment.
Nico is waiting for Sergio when he pulls into the garage. He’s leaning against a Lamborghini, his blue eyes are dancing, there’s a smile on his face and nothing on his chest once more.
Sergio gets out of the car and hands the mechanic the keys.
“When I said see you later, I didn’t mean the next day.” Nico remarks as their fingers brush together.
Sergio shakes his head. “Well, if you had fixed my car properly.”
Nico’s smile drops a touch. “Sorry about that, I will fix it today.”
Sergio nods. “Thank you, Mr Hulkenberg.”
Nico salutes the man as he leaves the garage.
Sergio gets called up during his lunch break by Nico, who lets him know that his car is ready for pick up.
“Have you fixed the problem this time?” Sergio asks.
There’s a slight pause, Sergio imagines Nico giving him a brief nod. “I think I’ve isolated the problem this time. You know though, there’s other options. You could but a new car.”
Sergio hangs up but there’s a smile on his face.
Sergio arrives to pick his car up. Nico is singing at the top of his lungs at the Taylor Swift song blaring out somewhere, his bare back and shoulders are just visible underneath the bonnet of the car he is working on.
Sergio watches the tall blonde for a moment, the curve of his back moving ever so slightly as he bends down, intent on his job.
He clears his throat. Nico’s head snaps up.
“Oh, Mr Perez.” Nico’s pale blue eyes widen. “I wasn’t expecting you here so soon.”
Sergio smirks. “Obviously. So can I take the car home?”
Nico wipes his hands off a rag. “Of course, follow me.”
Sergio tries to keep his eyes off Nico’s arse as the taller man saunters away.
Sergio’s Ferrari runs like a dream. He’s slightly disappointed that he doesn’t have to call up the garage and listen to Nico’s voice. He’s disappointed that he doesn’t have to walk to the garage after work and see Nico’s naked torso, damp with sweat, bending over a car.
He fiddles with his phone, as he sits in the meeting listening to one of the managers talk about their figures in the East.
He thinks about long blonde hair pulled back, he thinks about pale blue eyes, he thinks about pale skin, about light muscles, about a certain arse.
He groans out loud.
Everyone turns to face him. “Everything okay, Mr Perez?” One of them says.
“Yes, yes. Carry on.” Sergio says with a smile and a wave of his hand.
He calls Force India during one of his breaks. He wants to see Nico again but he doesn’t want the tall blonde to think he’s some sort of psycho.
“Force India, Nico speaking, how can I help?”
“Hi, Nico. It’s Sergio Perez here.” His voice is thick, his heart is beating against his ribs. He hates lying but he wants to see the blonde again.
“Oh, Mr Perez! How is the Ferrari?” Nico’s voice changes a touch, Sergio can imagine the grin on the blonde’s face.
“Not good, actually…I still think it’s not working properly.”
“Oh,” Sergio hears the confusion in the German’s tone. “I’m sure it was working beautifully when you left…but you can bring it in tomorrow? We’re a little overrun with MOTs right now. Third time lucky, this time.”
“Yeah…thanks Nico.”
“I know, I know, I’m a diamond.” Nico says. Sergio can hear the smile in his voice as he hangs up.
“I couldn’t find anything wrong with your car.” Nico says, there’s a frown line on his nose. Sergio wants to kiss it. “It’s running like a dream.”
“Oh,” Sergio sighs. “I’m sorry, maybe it was just me? I just thought I felt it shudder yesterday morning on the way to work.”
Nico shakes his head. “I couldn’t find anything wrong, I more or less went through the entire car. Recalibrated your engine, the works.”
Sergio bites his lip. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” He pulls out his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
Nico raises an eyebrow and pushes Sergio’s wallet away. “Nothing. I didn’t do any work on your car.”
“Nico, I have to pay you for your time at least-“
Nico shakes his head. “I’m not accepting your money, Mr Perez.”
“Call me Sergio. Mr Perez just makes me think I’m at work.”
“Okay, Sergio.” There’s a quirk of Nico’s lips. “I’m still not accepting your money.”
Sergio wants to press him against the garage wall and kiss the quirk off his lips. However, he settles for putting his wallet away and giving the German a smile.
Sergio throws himself into work. He’s got several big orders coming in from America and he has to work overtime to make sure they are filled correctly. This results in several sleepless nights and more cups of coffee than Sergio cares to remember.
He finally gets home and falls asleep at his desk, his cheek pressing against all the bills and bank statements.
He wakes up the next morning with a crick in his neck and one of his bank statements printed on his cheek.
He glances over the paperwork and begins tidying it up, opening up the mail that he had neglected for the last week.
He barely glances over the various envelopes – a bill here, a bank statement there, a letter from his phone company, he pauses on the next envelope.
Your MOT is due.
He curses under his breath and picks up his phone, dialling a familiar number.
“Hi, Force India, how can I help?”
It’s not Nico’s voice on the other end of the phone.
“You’re not Nico.” The words tumble out of Sergio’s mouth before he can stop himself.
“No, I’m Kevin. I work part time. Mr Hulkenberg is currently test driving one of the cars around. Can I help you with anything?”
“Yes, I’d like an MOT please, on my Ferrari.”
“Of course.” Kevin says, brightly. “You want a slot in the evening? We can do Monday evening if that’s okay for you?”
“That’s fine, thank you.” Sergio replies, he hangs up and slumps back in his chair.
He drops his car off on Monday evening as requested.
Nico isn’t at the garage. Sergio ignores the dull ache in his chest as he hands his keys over to Kevin.
He gets a phone call at work the next day.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Sergio. It’s Nico from you know…the garage. I didn’t know you’d brought my favourite Ferrari in for an MOT.”
Sergio holds back a snort. “I gave the keys to Kevin, I think it was?”
“Yeah, he told me about the handsome businessman who came in with the shit Ferrari. He was devastated when he saw your car.”
Sergio laughs. “Leave my car alone.”
“You know, I might just make your car fail its MOT.” Nico teases.
“Dickhead.” Sergio replies, fondly.
“Anyway, your car should be ready to pick up in the morning.”
“Excellent, it’s my day off work tomorrow.” Sergio says.
Nico laughs.
The smile stays on Sergio’s face even after he’s hung up.
Sergio goes to pick his car up in the morning in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Nico’s eyes grow wide when he sees the man walking into the garage.
“No business suit today, Sergio?” He fires out, winking at the Mexican.
“No, I told you, it’s my day off.”
“I didn’t even think you owned a pair of jeans.”
“You’d be surprised.” Sergio remarks. His dark eyes dance.
Nico smirks. “So do you want to hear the good news or the bad news?”
“Bad news, first.”
“Your car somehow managed to pass its MOT. You needed one of your brake pedals changing.”
“And the good news?”
“There is no good news.”
Sergio accepts the keys, ignoring the jolt in his chest as their fingers brush together.
Sergio doesn’t see Nico again for a week. They end up bumping into each other at the Grand Prix at Silverstone.
“Sergio! Nice to see you!” Nico bellows, he’s wearing a shirt today, sadly. His eyes are watery and he’s swaying ever so slightly. There’s a bottle of beer in his hand and he’s wearing a German flag tied around his shoulders.
Sergio raises an eyebrow. “You’re wearing a shirt today.”
Nico laughs. “Nice of you to notice. It’s too cold to not wear a shirt today. British summer and all that.”
Sergio smiles. “Shame. I missed seeing your chest for the hundredth time.”
Nico winks at him and moves closer. “You could see a lot more if you wanted to.” He slurs against Sergio’s ear.
Sergio exhales heavily.
“Nico-“
“Sergio.” Nico whispers. He moves forward and presses his lips against the Mexican’s.
The only thing Sergio can think about is how sweet Nico tastes under the beer.
Sergio doesn’t speak to Nico for a week after that. He figures the tall blonde is embarrassed and it’s better to give him time.
He throws himself into work, there’s more orders coming through and he has to work harder to make sure everything is in place.
However, he finds himself driving past Force India and before he can stop himself, he drives his car into the car park.
He immediately spots Nico underneath a car, working on something. Sergio lets his eyes dance over the tight jeans the man is wearing and his bare hips. He’s not singing to the radio today.
“Nico?” He says.
The man freezes and rolls himself up from under the car. “Yeah, Kevin, just a-“ He stops mid-sentence. “Sergio, nothing wrong with your car, I hope?”
“No, the Ferrari is running perfectly. I just came to see how you were.”
“I’m fine.” Nico’s smile doesn’t quite reach his face. “I’m sorry for what I did at the race last week…I was drunk and it was stupid.”
“Don’t be sorry. I liked it.” Sergio says, smiling.
“I mean, I didn’t even ask you if I could…wait, what?” Nico pauses, raising an eyebrow.
“I liked the kiss. I think I like you. I mean, you’re a bit of an idiot sometimes and you’re a total car snob, but I like you.”
“I like you too.” Nico replies, his voice is barely a whisper.
Sergio leans in and kisses Nico on the mouth. They kiss against one of the cars Nico was working on. Nico’s lips are chapped but warm underneath Sergio’s, they seem to stick together.
Nico lets out a little sigh when they finally pull apart. “I’m telling you now that I am not having sex with you in that Ferrari of yours.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sergio laughs against Nico’s lips.
