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By now, a few people had noticed. Max didn’t make a big deal out of it, but if the people around them found out then they found out; he didn’t have the patience or the temperament for daily dissimulation. Eventually someone picked up on the casual touches and the easy intimacy between them. It didn’t mean Max had to like it.
He was having breakfast at the hotel, along with all the other drivers, when Carlos sat down next to him before anyone else could, carrying a plate of cold cuts and a single croissant. Max didn’t look forward to watching him tear everything into little pieces and eat with his hands in deliberate mouthfuls. Carlos loved making a production out of everything. This was no different, he smirked and leaned into Max’s side, as if sharing a secret. “I bet it makes you feel like a big man, no? Fucking him.”
It didn’t, it made him feel like a child.
Max made a noncommittal noise. “Something like that.”
He smiled tightly at Carlos, who shook his head at him in amusement, before cutting his eyes across the room to where Lewis and Charles were talking by the buffet, selecting their own breakfast with deliberate care. “He seems hard to please.”
The conversation had long extended the bounds of civility, but Max wasn’t the kind of person to point that out. “Yeah, you know how it is, only the best for him.”
Carlos guffawed and clapped him on the back, Max did his best not to flinch under the touch. “I’m just teasing you, man. Happy for you. Both of you.” A pause, and then another pointed look. “Does your girlfriend know about him?”
At that Max had to laugh. “That’s none of your business.”
Carlos raised both hands, conceding defeat. They ate in silence after that. Lewis and Charles sat down at a table with Ferrari personnel, and Max tried not to read into it. He wanted to get practice done with so they could be alone, but he had a bad feeling the day was going to drag, as any day that wasn’t race day tended to.
---
The thing was that these days Max felt like there was a construction site inside his head. Part of him still couldn’t believe that the low level mean flirting he and Lewis had always engaged in had come to anything. A year into sleeping with Lewis and Max was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He couldn’t say what had possessed him to approach Lewis that night in an empty garage, when it was just the two of them, no annoying cameras, no crew underfoot, and to trap him against a wall and question him if he was leaving Mercedes because he was running from something.
“I don’t run from anything.” He’d glared at Max, but as always, his long lashes ruined the effect. “I only run towards something.”
“And what is it?”
Another championship went without saying, but Lewis should have known better than to look for it in the same old church Leclerc had worn grooves down on the floor from all his devoted praying, with nothing to show for it besides bruised knees.
Lewis deflated, turning his face sideways. He looked tired. “I hope I’ll know when I reach it.”
Max had been about to tell him he should have grabbed Toto’s balls in a vice and squeezed until he coughed out whatever amount of years and pounds Lewis wanted to hear, but before he could, Lewis focused his gaze on him, sharp now. “You are one to talk about running from things.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maybe Lewis was just baiting him, but Max was at times easy to bait.
Lewis leaned back against the wall, putting space between them but it only brought into stark relief how close they’d been, and were. Max was still holding himself up on his forearm, boxing Lewis in, his gaze followed the path of Lewis’ tongue on his bottom lip. “You’re all talk,” Lewis said, his gaze flickered upwards from below heavy lids and Max swallowed thickly. “A lion? I think you’re a kitten, Verstappen. That’s the only explanation for all the teasing that never goes anywhere.”
“What about you? Could always meet me halfway,” he said, glad his voice hadn’t wavered.
Lewis chuckled with a little shake of the head as if Max wasn’t getting it. “You’re the one who has to convince me you’re worth my while, man.”
There was probably something smart Max could have said to that, but he got hit with a wave of arousal so powerful the only thing he could think to do was wrap his free hand around Lewis’ throat to keep him in place for a kiss. Lewis returned the kiss with a startled gasp and a vicious grip on the back of Max’s hair. They kissed like they wanted to leave bruises. Max crushed Lewis against the wall, slotting one leg between his, rubbing up on him through the layers of their soft joggers.
“Let’s go to my motorhome,” Lewis whispered the words between their lips, voice rough as if he’d been running. Max was so hard he felt close to coming just from grinding on him.
“The floor is fine.” He dove in for another kiss, but Lewis stopped him with a bite and a gentle push against his chest.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you fuck me on the garage floor.”
Max hadn’t thought that far ahead, he would have been happy dry humping, he was an idiot. “Fuck, but you’ll let me?”
Lewis grin dimpled his entire face. “I’m feeling charitable.”
The slight dig got Max even hotter. He had no memory of the walk to Lewis’ motorhome but the night that followed would stay with him forever.
---
He thought that first time might have been a fluke, the result of the rush of it happening at all when he’d been convinced Lewis wasn’t that interested and just flirting back for the hell of it. He didn’t flirt just with Max, he was game. His smiles came easy and he let people get handsy when he liked what he saw. Max had always thought people touched Lewis too freely. But he had no complaints when he was the one doing the touching. He divested Lewis of his clothes eagerly, mapping smooth skin with his palms and lips as it was revealed. He hadn’t been with a man in a long time, and nerves threatened to get the best of him. Maybe there was more hero worship involved than he’d thought. Which confused him, because he’d never been like the wide-eyed rookies that flocked to Lewis now. Back then Lewis had looked right past him, usually at Nico Rosberg.
He was looking now, though, gaze hazy, lips parted in a silent moan as Max mouthed at the wet cotton of his boxers. Max was hoping his nerves didn’t show. Lewis’ hands on his head were appreciative, gentle, but guiding. Max was glad for the hint, he got Lewis’ underwear down his smooth legs and sucked his cock into his mouth. He wasn’t the most talented cocksucker in the world, but he was noisy and drooled a lot which he knew made it hot. Lewis was big, and Max struggled to take him in, which only led to an even bigger mess.
It wasn’t long until Lewis was pushing his head away with a hiss. “Enough, you’re going to make me come.”
Max pulled off with a loud pop and a smirk. “Bet I could make you come twice.”
“Bet you could, I just don’t feel like it.” He grinned at Max from his splayed position on the motorhome’s narrow bed and slid a foot between Max’s legs pushing his sole along the length of his trapped cock. “Get to it, I’m not getting any younger here.”
Max let out a gasp and held Lewis foot in place by the heel, keeping it steady to rub up on. It was humiliating how bad he wanted it, and that was when he became aware that he felt like a kid. Like he was losing his virginity all over again, that if he didn’t perform to satisfaction he might as well go and kill himself.
It wasn’t hero-worship, it was something far weirder. He couldn’t explain, not even to himself why he suddenly felt thirteen or thereabouts. Back at the height of his performance anxiety, his father’s voice shouting violent threats inside his head, blaming him for growing into a body he had yet to get used to and which forced him to adjust the way he drove on a weekly basis. None of it made sense, he had not lost his virginity at thirteen and not to a man, and yet his mind was making connections he couldn’t follow. The fear and desire were all tangled up inside him, like getting an erection during a crash.
This felt like a crash, the adrenaline spike was liable to make him go off before he got his cock anywhere near Lewis. Perhaps noticing some of his inner turmoil, Lewis took pity on him and reached for an overhead compartment where he got a bottle of lube and a condom he threw at Max. “You can watch.” The words were sultry, but his actions were practical. Max fumbled with his clothes, while watching Lewis work two lubed fingers into himself, he wasn’t playing it up for Max’ benefit, but their gazes held and Max felt heat bake him like the inside of his car during a summer’s race.
Max rolled the condom on, trying to stop the shaking in his hands. He didn’t think Lewis’ noticed; when Max wrapped them around his waist, his grip was steady and hard. Lewis bit his lower lip while Max’ cock sunk into him, to release it with a sigh once he bottomed out.
Lewis was like a vice around him, Max bit the inside of his cheek to ground himself, if he came now there would be no living it down. Lewis wouldn’t ridicule him or anything but he’d go back to looking right through Max, like in those first years before he considered him competition.
“You look crazy,” Lewis said, his voice airy with laughter. “Come here.” He pulled Max down by the bicep and then wrapped one arm around his neck, drawing him into a kiss.
That was better. His eyes closed and his mouth busy Max could let his body do the thinking for him. But he still felt clumsy and inexperienced although nothing was unfamiliar, not even the hard cock trapped against his abdomen, leaking copiously. Max felt flayed open, an overloaded transmission, everywhere their bodies touched seemed like it could spark. Lewis moaned into the kiss whenever Max got him just right, and Max whined like it pained him, because the relief of doing something right was balm to his nerves as much as it pushed him that much closer to coming.
He did his best to fuck more of those startled moans out of Lewis, who scored Max’s back with the blunt manicured nails of one hand, and gripped his ass to make Max fuck him how he liked it with the other. Harder and heavier, until the bed groaned and Max worried if it was possible they were making the whole motorhome shake tellingly.
“Just like that,” Lewis hissed against Max’s lips, frowning with his eyes closed. Max never imagined he’d be so vocal with his pleasure. He was like a cat in the way he melted into what felt good and became aggressive for more of it; biting and scratching at every part of Max he could reach. “You’re fucking me so good.”
Max let out a whimper and hid his face into Lewis’ neck, hoping he wouldn’t cry or cum, or both. This was the single most humiliating experience of his life, and also the best. Lewis was oblivious to his torment, chasing his own pleasure and canting his hips up while his hole squeezed Max’s cock like a mean fist. Cruel, almost, how he took what he wanted without noticing Max was going to pieces. But mostly hot.
“You’re so hot,” Max said, figuring Lewis should know. His voice faltered and his hips stuttered, he wanted to come so bad his balls hurt.
Lewis chuckled into Max’s neck, breath humid and hot. “Go for it, little lion,” he said, and wrapped a fist around his cock. He had little room for maneuvering between their sweaty abdomens, but it only took a few pulls for him to be coming with a drawn out moan, adding cum to the mess between their sticky skin.
The rhythmic squeeze of his hole around Max’s cock made him curse in every language he knew and come with a desperate, wounded moan. His cock throbbed, and his entire body hurt, he collapsed on top of Lewis like a puppet with its strings cut. Lewis petted his hair while both of them caught their breaths. Max rubbed his eyes into Lewis’ braids, hoping he couldn’t feel the wetness. In the end he’d ended up crying anyway. Such a little boy.
After some time of this, Lewis made a sound in the back of his throat, not unkind, but Max got the message and disentangled himself. He pulled out of him with a wince, holding the condom in place to avoid making a mess.
Lewis got up from the bed with a luxurious stretch and groan. “Bin is over there,” he said, pointing to where Max could get rid of the condom. “I’m going to shower, you can join in.”
Max sat on the bed, getting his bearings. It was possible that Lewis was just being polite, but Max didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck if he overstayed his welcome, so he binned the condom and followed the sound of water hitting glass, thinking to himself that he might still talk Lewis into that second orgasm.
---
Lewis had still been with Mercedes then. Now, months later, Max had grown used to seeing him in Ferrari red. That first time hadn’t been the last as Max had expected, although for a time he was always surprised whenever Lewis texted him a time and place, until he grew bold enough to start doing the same. The feeling of childish immaturity whenever they fucked never went away either, but by now Max just accepted it as part of their dynamic – not that Lewis had any idea, he was always too lost in his own head. Part of Max feared that when he closed his eyes he was picturing someone else. Recently, he’d said Sebastian’s name in an interview instead of Max’s and it stung.
Max wasn’t childish enough to bring it up, his own thoughts embarrassed him enough.
That weird regress to childhood only happened with Lewis, though. When Max fucked his girlfriend everything was fine. Sex felt normal, good, not mindblowing, but as good as it had always been. He sometimes considered fucking another man just to test it out, but he already felt bad for cheating with Lewis, he didn’t want to cheat on Lewis on top of everything else. Not that they were in any kind of relationship. They had never discussed it. When they stopped using condoms a few months back, Max had kind of expected a conversation about where they stood, but none had come.
In an odd way, the conversation with Carlos was more acknowledgment of their relationship than Max had gotten from Lewis.
After practice he went up to Lewis' motorhome and found him on his laptop, lost in thought as usual. He came up behind him and squeezed his shoulders, he made a move to kiss the back of Lewis’ neck but he ducked out of the way.
“People coming and going, mate.”
“Some of them know, it’s fine.”
Lewis made a sound like a tire losing air. “We should be careful about that. You especially, bad optics all around, but you’re still with your kid’s mother. How does that look?”
Max’ middle tightened with a sweet kind of pain. He slid a hand beneath the collar of Lewis’ Ferrari polo, mapping the warm skin of his back. Is that a hint? But he couldn’t get the words out, instead he asked, “What are you doing this first summer break?”
“I have plans, but I’m thinking I’ll stay around Monaco and Italy for a while, there’s some shit at the factory I have to look at anyway.”
“I’m staying too, going out in the boat and that’s about it.”
“Sounds good,” Lewis said, gaze focused on the screen. “Hey, you want to go back home with me, after the weekend? You could stay over.”
They hadn’t done that often, Lewis rarely invited him over. They fucked during race weekends or not at all. “Yeah, I could do that,” he said, aiming for indifference. He couldn’t handle wanting it more than Lewis did, he was always on the backfoot, chasing him without trying to look like he was running.
Suddenly Lewis’ phone rung with an incoming call, his eyes cut to it, but Lewis’ picked it up before Max could read the caller ID. It was obvious, though, as soon as Lewis’ face split into a huge grin.
“Hey, man, nice to hear from you.” He got up from the table and paced barefooted around the motorhome while listening to Vettel on the other end of the line, he laughed from time to time at whatever was being said. “Yeah, whenever you want. I don’t have any plans for the break.”
Max was waiting to catch his eye but Lewis seemed like he was avoiding looking towards him on purpose. In the end he left without telling him he was going, no point in waiting around.
---
“Can you grab us a bottle of water,” Lewis asked, after Max pulled out of him, cum leaking after his cock. He was arrested by the sight for a moment, and had trouble making sense of Lewis’ words.
“Anything else? Some tea?”
Lewis snorted into the pillow and gave him two fingers. Max got up and padded around the flat naked. There were a lot of pictures all over the place, Lewis with friends and family, very little of it had to do with formula 1. There was a fascinating painting of a disassembled motorbike, but no cars. Max had no idea where he kept his trophies, perhaps in the house in Britain. He had never been there, and couldn’t imagine he ever would.
It took him a long time to return to the bedroom with the water, Lewis had cleaned himself up and was scrolling on his phone. Max pressed the cold plastic bottle against his thigh to make him hiss, and laid down on his side, his head on Lewis’ chest. “What are you doing?”
“Talking with Seb,” He said, uncapping the bottle and taking a sip.
“About what?” Max smoothed his hand down Lewis’ abdomen, twisting his pinky into the few curly hairs above Lewis’ soft cock, the only spot on his body where he allowed any hair to grow.
“Ferrari, what else.” He sounded frustrated, he’d been sounding frustrated the whole year. Max couldn’t believe he had really thought his mere presence would turn a trashfire into a winning team, but evidence forced him to reconsider.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Max’s year was one to forget too. The two of them were battling to stay in the points more often than they were battling for P1. He missed racing Lewis, he was the only competition he’d ever had that wasn’t himself or mechanically engineered. He missed the adrenaline hit, and was glad to get it back when they fucked. He could have told Lewis all of this, but something always stopped him. In the back of his head he always heard his dad telling him to stop with the nonsense and focus.
“No, you don’t get it. It’s how they do things over there. It drives me crazy, Seb knows what I mean, he’s had to deal with them.”
Max knew full well what it was like to be in a dysfunctional team, it was all he’d ever known. But he was like Lewis in the sense that he could forgive a lot if they gave him a good car. Everything became white noise when the machinery was humming in tune with the driver. He missed the feeling of working with his car instead of against it.
“Toto keeps calling me.”
Lewis put down his mobile with a sigh, he turned to look at Max. “It’s up to you.”
“What would you do?”
“I changed teams, didn’t I?” He didn’t sound encouraging.
“Yes, but if you were in my place?”
Lewis eyes roamed over his body and face, as if taking stock or doing mental calculations. Max resisted the urge to stick out his chest to make himself look more impressive. Lewis must have seen the desire to do it in his eyes because he gave Max one of his boyish grins and drew him into a kiss. “I’d kiss me, if I were you,” he said, pecking Max in between words, “and maybe, but this is me, I’d even fuck me again.”
Max grabbed Lewis’ throat. “If I were you I’d wonder if I could even get hard again.”
Lewis bit Max’ lip and struck him in the calf with his heel. “If I were you, I’d worry about myself, little lion man.”
---
In the morning, Max woke up to a barrage of texts from Kelly calling him everything from a miserable cunt to a joke. There were some really creative insults in there, and he thumbs upped all his favourites. To all the ones in Portuguese he reacted with a heart because he thought they sounded hot. He got out of bed without waking Lewis, but left him a little handwritten note telling him he had to go and relieve Kelly of babysitting duties but that he wanted to see him again during the break. He drew a wonky little heart for good measure and stuck it to the fridge door with a magnet.
He tried to make his hair presentable while he waited for the elevator, but the mirror in the hallway kept showing him a disheveled guy who looked like he’d just crawled out of his hook up’s bed.
The lift arrived with a musical chime and Max stepped in without paying attention to whoever was inside. It was only when the doors closed that he looked to the side and found Nico Rosberg staring at him while holding a purple trashbag and a little yapping dog by the lead.
Max buried his face into his palms. “Fuck, I guess there’s no point in asking you not to make this awkward.”
Nico chuckled. “Walk of shame?”
“No, I just have to go look after my kids. He didn’t kick me out or anything.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot, congratulations by the way, a daughter, right? Lewis always did like plausible deniability.”
Max should just ignore him. This was bait. But the words spilled out of him like vomit. “You have to be the world’s sorest loser, someone should give you a trophy.”
Nico gave him a look like he thought Max was an idiot. “I have never lost anything to you. And definitely not Lewis, so don’t flatter yourself.” The elevator arrived on the landing, but neither of them moved. “I just meant that it’s very convenient that you have a family. He’ll use it as an excuse as to why things have to end between you eventually.”
He slid the sunglasses perched on top of his head down to his nose and left, leaving Max to grapple with the fact that he’d had no comeback. He walked home thinking about Lewis’ shit taste in men and what it said about him.
---
He ended up not hearing from Lewis so he decided to take the kids and Kelly down to Sardinia, might as well, since moping around the flat waiting for a text that wasn’t coming made him feel pathetic. Besides, Kelly was having a little too much fun at his expense trying to find out who was ghosting him.
During the journey, Max couldn’t stop himself from looking up Lewis to try and figure out where he was and with whom but it was as if he had disappeared. He even looked up Seb Vettel, narrowing his eyes at every photo in the off-chance he might see a tattooed hand or a stray braid at the edge of the frame. A lion didn’t concern himself with the likes of Nico Rosberg, so he did not think about his parting words on the elevator even once.
Once they arrived, Kelly made sure to update all their socials with plenty of pictures of the kids and the two of them. Fine. It looked cute. Max liked it when she was being a bitch, and the girls were having so much fun it was hard to stay in a bad mood. Against all expectations he was actually enjoying himself.
And then he got the call from Toto. “There’s someone here who would like to see you.”
Max knew right away that he meant Lewis. He sailed to where Toto was anchored first and only afterwards told Kelly he was going out to his yacht to have a word with him, and to not wait around for him. She told him to go fuck himself. He asked her if she wanted him to take the kids with him, but left before she could throw a stray bottle of sunscreen at his head.
Max didn’t know what he expected when he steeped on board Toto’s yacht, perhaps some sleazy party with plenty of alcohol and half naked models, worse, some kind of business hangout with old men wearing beach shorts and polos. He found neither, Susie welcomed him aboard with a flute of champagne, told him the “boys are inside” and disappeared into the deck to some kind of all-girls group video call that generated a lot of laughter.
The boys were indeed inside, laying about in swim trunks and in Lewis’ case a speedo and a see-through black robe. George raised an unexcited hand in greeting, eyeing Max warily. Kimi laid sideways on the sofa with his head pillowed on Toto’s knee, in the middle of reading something that looked like a comic book. He grinned brightly at Max and got up to hug him, his skin was hot and sticky with sunscreen. Max hugged him back feeling a little light-headed, the whole vibe was odd. Toto’s smile made him look like a shark.
Lewis was sitting by a window, looking out at sea, Max walked up to him and touched his shoulder with a quiet, “Hey.”
“Hey, sorry I’ve been radio silent.”
“It’s this where you’ve been?”
Lewis shrugged. He looked apprehensive, and then turned sideways to look at Toto. “Can we go downstairs to talk?” Max couldn’t recall Lewis ever asking anyone’s permission to go anywhere. Toto nodded and spread his arms with the good-will of a generous host, before returning his right hand to Kimi’s hair.
Max got up to follow after Lewis. The yacht’s lower floor had several rooms, Lewis led them to one with open travel bags scattered across the floor, bright outfits spilling over every which way. Max’s eyes snagged on the modular nightstand next to bed, where the contents of a shoulder bag had spilled over, among them a folded piece of paper with Max’s handwriting and a hand drawn crooked heart.
“I think we need to stop seeing each other,” Lewis said, as soon as the door closed behind him.
Max ignored him, and pointed backwards, indicating whatever was going on upstairs. “What are you doing here?”
Lewis sighed. “I made a mistake.”
“Don’t worry, I know you didn’t mean it.”
“No, I’m talking about leaving Mercedes. It was a mistake.”
Five minutes ago Max might have agreed with him, now he wasn’t so sure. “Does Toto make his drivers walk around oiled up for him to ogle during the off-season?”
Lewis sighed like Max was the one being unreasonable here. “He’s hands on.”
“I can see that. What the fuck, Lewis.”
“You have a family, we should stop, it’s only a matter of time until someone finds out and then it will be a huge scandal, bigger than either of us can afford.”
Max couldn’t help laughing, he rubbed one hand down his face and shook his head. “Nico told me you’d say that.”
Before Lewis could get another word in edgewise Max pushed him down on the bed with a kiss and climbed on top of him. If he hadn’t seen the note he might have taken Lewis’ words at face value and left with his tail between his legs, but no one kept a stupid note from a guy they wanted to break up with, let alone brought it on holiday.
“Give me a better reason,” Max said, sliding one knee between Lewis’ legs, where he was growing hard inside the tiny speedo.
Lewis’ eyes were huge and humid, he licked his lips trying to resist the urge to rub up into Max’s knee. “My ex wants us to get back together. I think it’s a good idea.”
“Who? Vettel?”
Lewis giggled, his lips splitting wide in the kind of smile that made him look like 40 going on 14. “What? No, Miles.”
“The fencer? I thought you were friends.”
“Yeah, we’re friends like the two of us are friends,” he said, and finally pulled down Max into a kiss, tangling his hands into the back of Max’s hair and sighing into his mouth like he’d been missing him too.
Max broke the kiss to look Lewis in the eyes, holding his chin in place with a thumb. “Go back to him, it changes nothing. I’ll still want you, you’ll still want me.”
“I don’t like open relationships,” Lewis said, trying to dislodge Max’s thumb.
“Who said anything about that. I love cheating, and so do you.”
Lewis let his legs fall open with a sigh. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s what gets you hot,” Max said, pulling his tshirt over his head with a single motion.
He took off the rest of his clothes and helped Lewis out of the stupid sheer robe that had tangled itself up around his arms. Usually he had no complaints where it came to Lewis’ more whorish clothes, but they did on occasion get in the way. The speedos he made short work of. He gripped Lewis’ hard cock in one hand and pushed two fingers of the other against his rim, expecting to find him tight and dry but they sunk into him to the second knuckle with buttery ease.
“Now why is that?” Max asked, looking down at Lewis.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Lewis said, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pushed at Max’s chest to get a move on. “Just fuck me.”
Max held him open under the knee so he could watch his cock disappear inside his body, enjoying the few moments of composure he had left before the weight of it all collapsed on top of him and he was reduced once again to a child trying to hold on for dear life. He bottomed out with a sigh and collapsed down to one elbow, hitching up Lewis’ leg around his waist with the other arm.
“You always look so crazy,” Lewis, said pushing Max’ hair away from his forehead.
Max muffled a whimper into his neck, driving his hips down until Lewis gasped. “You’re the best I ever had.”
“You’re gonna give me a big head.”
“You don’t need me for that,” Max said, his chest pained him with strangled tears. He was such a baby, his dad was right, he couldn’t do anything right.
It didn’t matter, it felt good when he came to pieces. It felt like relief when the car finally crashed into the wall and he was out of it for good. The finish line kept eluding him this year, but it didn’t matter, because he could still chase it. There was always the next race and the next. In the meantime, he chased pleasure in Lewis’ body, and tried to ignore how it exposed his circuitry, how the engine of his heart pumped out of sync with his hips. Crashing felt even better when you were taking someone else out with you, and Lewis clung to him like he wanted it too. A clash at terminal velocity, their teeth bared and metal bending around them with the friction of their bodies.
They’d had some ugly crashes. Some beautiful ones too. Max lifted his face above Lewis’ and let him see his tears, there was no point in hiding when they were already crashing into each other.
“There you are.” Lewis raised a thumb to Max’s eyes and rubbed away his tears. Max kissed him with a whimper and came inside him without warning. His hips pumped sluggishly, filling up Lewis with cum as he groaned and stripped his cock one-handed, coming seconds after Max and shooting up all the way to their chests.
When he tried to pull out Lewis held him in place by the hip. “No, stay awhile.”
“I thought you were breaking up with me.”
“You argued a good case.”
Max chuckled wetly and pressed sloppy kisses against his cheek. “Are you going back to Mercedes?”
“I don’t know. There’s an open door.” He sighed. “Better the devil you know.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Max said, keeping his own counsel. It wasn’t his place to tell Lewis what he already knew.
“But what would you do, if you were me,” Lewis’ asked, grinning in that way that filled his eyes with sweetness.
Max thumbed at his cheekbone. “I think I’d kiss me. And then I’d consider ruining Toto’s nice sheets with a second round.”
---
The sun was setting when Max climbed up the stairs to the deck, feeling refreshed after a shower. Toto cornered him as he was leaving the boat.
“My offer still stands,” he said, smiling with all his shark’s teeth, arms open wide for a hug. “I’d love to have you on the team.”
Max hugged him with a grin. “You’re such a creep, Toto. I already said no.”
“In my experience, most ‘nos’ are just ‘not yet’.” He was talking out of his ass, obviously, no team could justify the cost of affording both him and Lewis. It was either or.
“Yeah, whatever, man, I don’t give a fuck. Let Lewis do whatever he wants with his life.”
“I’d never make him do anything he didn’t want.”
“Remember that and we won’t have a problem.”
“There’s no problem. You’re not an idiot, Max, don’t be a romantic. It doesn’t suit you, or him.”
Max wasn’t in the mood to argue. With any luck Ferrari would sort their shit out and Lewis would still be there come next season, and if not, Max would deal with Toto when he needed dealing with and not a moment sooner. In the meantime he had no intention of letting him think he was succeeding in making Max jealous.
He said his goodbyes to Susie now completely in her cups and made the way to his own yacht. He was greeted with the girls running up to his legs in simple, childish glee. Kelly was on the phone with one of her friends, calling him a faggot in Portuguese, no doubt. He walked by her and kissed the top of her head. She elbowed him away and called him a faggot in English. He turned to her with a shrug and a grin. He made his way to the cabin wondering if he should invite Lewis to sleep over, he liked kids, he would be good with the girls.