Could we the people have some behind the scenes thoughts about the things that happened in WTB Mick’s miserable day to make him say this:
“I could smell you all day,” Mick tells him. His grip on Seb’s hips is so tight it’ll most likely leave his brand there for days. Good.
“Well, I wasn’t wearing blockers,” Seb says, just to be difficult. “What did you smell?”
“That you were angry,” Mick says right into his ear. “And so, so wet,”…
this picks up on a lot of themes from your lovely lovely mick's pov ficlet, please everyone help yourselves to that too!
the door slams closed behind sebastian.
the impact of his fist on the cushion of the massage table isn’t satisfying: it doesn’t help the hot fury rolling in his stomach, but he can’t risk fucking up his hand with punching the wall. mick wants to scream, wants to do something, anything, that will quieten the storm in his chest.
he stays in his driver’s room for another five minutes, carefully doing breathing exercises, but he can’t stop seeing seb’s face when he closes his eyes, how his mouth dropped open in shock, the minute flinch of his whole body. how he tilted his head to snap at mick–
at least you couldn’t knock me up.
not for a lack of wanting, not on mick’s part– but they haven’t talked about seb’s heat since it passed. it would be unbecoming of mick to bring it up. and anyway, he thought that with the end of the season approaching, they’ll have time to discuss it. seb keeps saying it: that he’ll have all the time in the world, that he’ll have to figure out what he wants to do next. there’s something soft in his smile when he says that, something almost shy, his eyes sweeping down on mick’s body.
he finally goes downstairs a good ten minutes later after splashing some cold water on his face and neck. before he even makes it out of the hospitality, someone takes ahold of his arm.
“i don’t need to know what just happened,” laura says, the dictaphone tucked under her elbow. “but you need to go back upstairs and put your blockers on.”
mick doesn’t argue.
later, he’s out on the tarmac with gary, fussing over the front wing, when three figures dressed in teal come out to the pitlane from the aston garage. for once in his life, mick wishes it was lance. but it’s seb, whose eyes settle on him for a few seconds, his face tense and carefully blank.
before mick can raise a hand in a wave, seb turns to mikey. mick gulps at the clear dismissal, clears his throat before looking back over at gary.
“alright?” gary asks mildly. he’s too kind to say anything but there’s no way he didn’t pick up on it.
“sure,” mick nods. he almost says something dumb, like peachy, but he feels too taut to try to joke.
the wind picks up, bringing closer the tenors of seb’s laughter, easy with everyone else today, apparently. mick sighs, takes a deep breath to center himself, except– except he swears he can pick up on the now familiar bright notes of seb’s scent. it wasn’t even half a day that they spent together, seb’s heat breaking a few hours after midnight, but mick doesn’t think he could forget it even if he tried. he bites his lip, looks over at seb. but he’s still turned away, gesturing with his whole body, so it might be just mick’s rut that’s playing a trick on his mind. seb isn’t in heat, he couldn’t be, so there’s no reason for mick to smell him like this. it hasn’t even been a fortnight just yet.
except he smells seb again when he goes to do media duties. the intensity of it makes his mouth water pathetically; he has to gulp a few times to collect himself, to stop thinking about the way seb tasted, all pink and glistening, offering himself to mick, languid in his want. he can just barely see seb where he’s talking to carlos, the lines of his shoulders tenser than usual. mick lets laura lead him to the media pen, gets into the mindset of the driver they want to see. these interviews are just becoming more and more excruciating as the season progresses, the ultimatums of steiner looming over him.
the fifteen minutes feel like a lifetime. seb is inside the building now, but it feels like he’s pressed close to mick, the soft fuzz on his forearms brushing against mick’s, the ghost of the hot puffs of his breath raising the hair on mick’s nape. it’s torture to feel seb’s desire so physically, that he’s hungering for it, to know him wanton and desperate.
seb hasn’t offered to help him with his rut. mick didn’t ask him, of course: he doesn’t want to make seb feel like what they have is only sex or a convenience. it’s only a few weeks now until seb makes his final lap as a racing driver, something mick still dreads; but he thinks that the next chapter that seb’s been talking about will have space for him, too – something soft and promising that he felt when they woke up the morning after seb’s heat. seb’s sweet smile, the shade of his lashes, the gentle trail of his fingers on mick’s arm.
he’ll tell sabine to cancel the service when he gets back to his driver’s room. he doesn’t think he could touch someone else without recoiling.
i need u to know i think about worked the blade every single day. i have never been so obsessed with a fic before. i think if u ever posted more of it id explode. love u sm
anon this is so nice of you to say and i'm also obsessed with that fic sadly, entertaining myself with little headcanons and zoning out day to day :( i have like 2k written from the next chapter and i have a very clear outline for the story, so sooner or later it should happen! i just haven't really been in a writing mood in this fresh new hell year. but i can give you a lil teaser!
Seb runs a hand through his hair for the last time and opens the door: wind and cold sweeping into the house immediately. Mick jogs up to the porch, leaving clear footprints in the fresh snow.
“Hey,” Mick says again, stopping right at the doorstep. He’s flushed pink from the cold, smiling so hard the slight dimple etched in his right cheek is visible. Seb wants to trace it with his thumb.
“Hi,” he says instead.
“I got you some soup, in case you’re still sick,” Mick lifts the bag he’s holding. Seb blinks at him. Oh, right. He told Mick he was feeling under the weather – he had enough of a headache that it was true – when Mick asked if he wanted to meet up a few days ago.
rosy i am having worked the blade withdrawals pls give me anything 🤲
this is basically nothing and i'm not sure it'll even make the cut because it's so technical but EYE like to think about these things
“I presented late,” Seb says after a moment of thinking. “Like, one of the latest in my cohort, you know? And even before I did, people were saying my body is trying to bide my time when I kept getting podiums more often than not. It was, what, 2000? Something like that. Normal to be dropped by your academy or sponsors if you turned out to be an omega. So we heard parents telling other kids to be patient, I would be out sooner or later. And I think– I think one time your father must have heard something – he’d been paying attention to my career, he told me later – and asked us after a podium why people were saying that.”
By lap 60, it's getting more and more obvious that save for some unexpected catastrophy, it's going to happen. Sebastian watches with his stomach in knots, sweat sliding down between the headphones and the curve of his ear. The rest of the race is a blur -- they put Corinna on the radio after Mick crosses the line, and then him, but he doesn't even know what he's saying, can only hear the fervent, euphoric catches in Mick's breathing, the breaks in his voice.
Half an hour later, Mick comes down from the podium, still absolutely soaked-- from sweat, champagne and tears, the stench of victory if there ever was one. He needs to go to the press conference, but Sebastian is selfish enough to not want to let him go; he's curled his hand around his bicep some time ago and Mick seems happy to stay right there, right until a stern looking steward shows up to remind him of the time.
"And I'll need your pick, too," he says before he steps back out of the room.
Mick's eyebrows twitch together; his eyes slip back to Sebastian, who's ignoring the hot sweep in his stomach.
"It's your day," he says, because that's what he's supposed to say. "You know what they say, you never forget your first. So have some fun."
Mick's lips do pull to a grin, then.
"A call like that, from you?" Seb says, unable to shut his mouth now, not until he finally hears Mick say a name and he'll have to smile and nod and back off. "That would wake the dead, handsome alpha like you can have anyone you want--"
"Anyone?" Mick asks. His eyes are narrowed, laser focused on Sebastian, like they had been, years ago, when Sebastian asked him to--
"For sure, yes," he nods, realizing that his hand is now tight as a vise. When he loosens his fingers to let go, Mick's hand flies up, folds his hand back over the curve of his bicep, his thumb rubbing Sebastian's wrist slowly.
"You, then," Mick says. He licks his lips; eyes slipping down to Sebastian's mouth hungrily. "You can say no, of course, but-- if I could have anyone, it'd be you."
He sees the split second Mick’s eyes fall to the curve of his belly, sees Mick’s mouth drop open and his eyes darken with such intensity that the root can only be one thing: betrayal. His gaze snaps back up to Seb’s face and Seb’s chest contracts and his breath catches in his throat.
On the doorstep of his worst nightmares, Seb almost says, ‘It’s not yours.’ But he’s never lied to Mick and he won’t start now. He’s promised himself that.
"You could do this to the whole fic" honestly I could sit here whilst you did commentary on every word of that fic and I'd be sat here in rapt attention. The fic itself is so good, and literally your thoughts and back ground on it all is fascinating
(Also what are the extra charges for moving up your DAS appointment time?)
thank you!! and thank you for the confirmation that this is an absolutely crucial detail. i estimate it around a 10% upcharge, and btw the same-day cancellation means Haas would have to pay the original fee anyways.
i truly have no words for chapter two of worked the blade...... it's so good, it's so painful....... how mick keeps saying "i'll make you mine" when seb is most definitely already his.... how seb thinks that mick doesn't want him the way he wants mick when actually he more than does..... you are so brilliant, thank you so much for blessing us with this 🙏🙏🙏
anon i’ve been trying to come up with something smart or like extra-added to say to this but i can’t so just THANK YOU!! very happy you liked it!!
