Watch the clouds float, white Ferrari
Short 1k+change of Sete x Vale having a date in Ibiza ft. a lot of dramatic irony
They had danced together for a while, closer than they would have without the alcohol coursing through their veins. When Sete had inevitably asked him to come back to his room, Valentino had laughed and had told him to take him out for dinner before he tried to fuck him.
The doorbell rang loud and way too early in the morning and Valentino blinked awake with a scowl. His head pounded in time to the music in the disco from the night before. The doorbell rang again and he groaned, dragging his hands down his face. He had a rule of not waking up before noon on his days off and he had a sinking feeling that it was nowhere near noon yet.
Uccio should be awake, he should be the one who went off to see who the fuck it was, but Uccio had went off with some girl the night before and he was God knows where now so it was up to Valentino to check the door. Blearily, he stumbled off of the couch and winced as he felt the crick in his neck. He leaned his forehead against the door for a second before getting off to rub at his eyes.
Yanking the door open, Valentino blinked once and then twice before realizing that yes, it was Sete Gibernau standing in front of him in a nice dress shirt and holding a bouquet of roses like he was taking a girl out to a dance or something.
“I think you have the wrong house,” Valentino said, his voice raspy. If he eyed the flash of tanned chest he got for a moment too long, that was between him and God.
“No? Don’t you remember last night?” Sete asked, Valentino’s mother tongue curling in his mouth like it was Sete’s as well, and Valentino stared at him in confusion.
He scrunched his face up in thought as he tried to remember what he did the night before. If Valentino was being honest, Ibizan nights were all pretty much the same – staunchly hedonistic and full of bad choices. He had danced with pretty girls and drank more than was probably recommended and then, at some point, he had stumbled into Sete.
They had danced together for a while, closer than they would have without the alcohol coursing through their veins. When Sete had inevitably asked him to come back to his room, Valentino had laughed and had leaned in close before telling him take him out for dinner before he tried to fuck him.
"Oh," Valentino said as it dawned on him.
“You asked me to take you out, so I’m taking you out,” Sete shrugged.
“I said dinner, not lunch,” Valentino tutted, “you woke me up so early. I don’t know, I might not come.”
“Who said I was only keeping you for lunch?” Valentino marvelled at how thick Sete was laying it on.
“Shit,” Valentino said, “you’re treating me like a chick!” Sete only shrugged again, which wasn’t a refusal, but Valentino found that he didn’t mind it much.
“Well, I can’t go like this,” Valentino looked down at his clothes, rumpled from the night before.
Sete reached out and straightened Valentino’s shirt. “You look fine to me, but I always think you’re hot so maybe my opinion doesn’t count.” Valentino laughed, loud and pleased, before pulling him inside the house.
“Ah, no use in flattering me, I’m already coming. Leave the bouquet on the coffee table, Uccio will take care of it when he comes back,” Valentino called out as he went into the bedroom to ransack his wardrobe for something that would look decent.
“It’s not flattery if it's true,” Sete said, leaning against the door frame as Valentino pulled out a shirt. Valentino smirked and made a show of stripping out of his old one and it only got to his head a little when Sete seemed like he couldn’t rip his eyes off of Valentino.
Valentino slid his shirt on and went to button it as Sete pushed himself off the door frame before coming to stand in front of Valentino. He swatted Valentino’s hands away before buttoning up his shirt with deft fingers. The heat of his hands seemed to penetrate through the thin fabric of the shirt and the breath caught in Valentino’s throat as Sete’s hands brushed Valentino’s neck as he neatened the collar.
He looked at Sete’s face once before looking away quickly. This is what he did for girls – letting his hands linger on their body enticingly as he brushed a wrinkle off their dress, smiling a little too sharply when they caught his eye – not what happened to him.
“Ah, you are trying very hard,” he laughed, almost flustered with an awkwardness to it that was uncharacteristic.
“Is it working?” Sete asked with a smile.
“Absolutely,” Valentino said, his face serious as he bent down just a little so they were closer together.
“I had one more thing for you,” Sete said, putting his hands around Valentino’s hips, where they settled almost naturally against his hipbone, “but if that was enough for you—”
“No no no, what is it?”
“I think it is better if I show you.”
Grabbing him by his hand, Sete barely gave him any time to slip his shoes on before leading him back into the blazing sunshine of the outside. Valentino grimaced and put his hand up to shield his eyes from the brightness. was about to ask him what the fuck he was thinking before he saw what Sete was talking about.
He hadn’t noticed the car that Sete had come in when Sete had rung his doorbell, half-asleep and a little confused why Sete Gibernau was standing at his doorstep, but he was a little more aware of himself now to see what Sete had brought.
It was an older Ferrari, a Testarossa from the 80’s, and instead of the signature Rosso Corsa it was painted in a pure white. The shine of the white against the bright sunlight was almost blinding. Valentino whistled under his breath as he circled it. “Nice ride Gibernau. You really want to fuck me, don’t you?”
“Maybe. You want to drive?” Valentino looked up at him, disbelieving.
“You’d let me?” He asked incredulously.
“Yeah, why not?” Sete said as if it was that easy.
“Fuck, like I’d say no,” Valentino laughed before gleefully grabbing the keys from his hands and slipping inside. Wrapping his hands around the steering wheel almost reverently, Valentino turned the ignition key and felt the engine turn on underneath him.
He had always loved everything and anything that had wheels – cars, bikes, whatever. It had always been something that he had laughed off, teasing from the other boys – “Vale, you’re always drawing those cars. Vale, do you think about anything other than your bike?” – that he quickly deflected. Normal boys didn’t dream of circuits and engines and brake points but normal boys never made it to MotoGP, did they?
The door opened and Sete slid into the passenger seat. Valentino smiled at him, bright and blinding as the Testarossa he was in. “Well then, loverboy, where are we going?"