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Mick stepped out of the car with dejection and exasperation seeping from his pores. He knew what he was getting into when he signed for the team, theoretically, he knew it wasn’t going to be smooth sailing. But knowing something in theory and experiencing it practically are two completely different things, he understands that now. At previous races he tried to explain it away in his head, amounting everything to the growing pains of being in a new team, a new environment in F1, a new teammate, whatever he could explain away. He tried to take everything in his stride; the only way to learn is by going through things he reasoned. But something about today stopped him from doing that.
A cloud of grey followed him to the media pen, he hung his head low and shoulders hunched as his team took away his helmet in exchange for his hat. He put on his mask, glad that he won't have to put on a fake smile.
Working through the interviews was a chore, a mind-numbing cycle of the same questions he had to find different ways to answer. Switching between languages was becoming increasingly tedious and if he let his mood show by being a bit more critical of his teammate than usual, he’ll worry about that later. Right now, he just wanted to hide away from everyone. In the back of his mind, the guilt of making today a little bit harder on his PR people was already germinating, but he quashed it as much as possible promising to himself that he’ll make it up to them.
He sulked through the debrief making sure they, particularly Gunther, knew he wasn’t happy about the race. He often wondered what was the point in these debriefs if they were just going to repeat the same thing in every race. What was the point in trying if his efforts were going to be debuffed by the team? Sometimes he let the doubt of whether he made the right decision fester and dampen his mood, rearing its ugly head whenever he felt like he wasn't living up to his name. Most of the time he kept that to himself, he didn't want to seem ungrateful for the position he was in. He knew so many people would kill to be where he was.
Finally, he was free and b-lined for his driver’s room.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the figure sat on the couch. Being wrapped up in the organised chaos that was a race day, he had completely forgotten that Callum was around this weekend. Which was a testament to how spaced out he had been given that he woke up to a good morning text from the man telling him that he might see him around the paddock today. As his luck goes, he hadn’t had the chance to talk to him for most of the weekend.
Anyway, he was here now and he was not about to waste any more time. Callum had stood up in anticipation and Mick trudged towards him and wrapped his arms around his waist as soon as he was in reaching distance. He pulled Callum in close and nudged his way into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent the moment his cheek touched warm skin. Callum had wrapped his arms around Mick’s shoulders also pulling him into his space until their bodies formed a tight line where they touched. Callum’s hand slid up from where it was between his shoulder blades until it carded through the fuzzy short strands of blonde hair that adorned the back of his head.
The GT driver turned to his right slightly to place a kiss on Mick’s temple that elicited a tickle of breath hot on Callum’s neck.
“I hated today,” Mick finally broke the spell of comfortable silence that fell over them.
“I know, my love.”
“Everything sucked.” He knew he was being childish, brows in a furrow as he hid his face in the crook of someone’s neck but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Callum could feel the light brush of his lips as he talked and burrowed further into the junction. “I keep trying with them but it's like they won’t listen to me. I thought after Monaco they would understand and try to make things better but it feels like the same thing every race now. I’m so tired Cal.” A demoralised huff of air punctuated his sentence.
Callum’s heart broke at the forlorn tone that had taken over Mick’s usually upbeat voice. He knew this season was going to be tough on him, more so than others, but seeing it play out in real-time did nothing to ease his worries.
“I know, baby.” He continued to caress his hair as they slowly swayed side to side. “But you wanna know what I think?” Mick hummed in response. “I think when you win your second title-” Mick let out a low chuckle at that which Callum couldn’t help but smile at. “Shut up I’m being serious. When you win your second world title, you’ll be able to look back at this moment and laugh. When they make a documentary on your career this will only take up five minutes. I know today hurts and unfortunately, you’ll have more days like today, it sucks I know. But one day you’ll be so successful and accomplished you’ll have a hard time even remembering today. You just have to remember it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
Mick finally resurfaced. His blue eyes washed over Callum’s and it took everything in the latter not to hitch his breath at the beauty he still can't believe he’s allowed to unapologetically bathe in.
“No, I remember every day I’m with you.”
Callum’s love for him swelled at the heartfelt statement. It was so simple but the confidence in his words hit him to his core.
Almost unnoticeably, Mick’s face moved closer to the Brit's, his breath fanning across his lips and chin. “I can’t ever forget you. Even if I tried.” His gaze held so much intensity. An ardent roar of emotion flashed behind the ripples in his iris, reminding him of how much power Mick had over him. How much power he voluntarily relinquished to him. And how freely Mick reciprocated.
He should be scared. Scared of the electricity that thrummed under his skin whenever he brushed up against him. Or the heat that mottled his chest as it rose to colour his cheeks whenever Mick told him he loved him. He should be petrified. And yet.
Breaking the trance he had pulled Callum under, the younger man’s eyes flitted to his lips. His tongue darted out to lick his own, and like a magnet, the pink curve had Callum’s rapt attention. He would do anything for Mick.
“Kiss me,” Callum whispered.
Within a moment, Mick had captured his lips in a whoosh of zeal. He reveled in how open Callum was whenever he was under his touch. He bared his all to him and Mick made sure that he knew how much he appreciated it. How much it affected him in the best way possible. Callum allowed him to be him, the real him, without fear of judgment or ridicule. Or, worse yet, the potent aura of jealousy. Callum just existed. His calming presence purging him of any doubts he had about himself, reassuring him that there were people out there that loved him just for him. Not because of his name, or what he could do for them, just for being him. He would do anything for Callum.
And like that, they were lost in a world they had created. Lips undulating over each other, remapping a path they had built the foundation under. Callum’s hands had moved to bracket Mick’s face, a strong hand cupped his jaw as it felt the muscles dance. His thumb swiped along his cheek, sometimes dipping into the dimple that appeared when he smiled into the kiss.
Mick’s hands tightened around his waist, squeezing him as close to his body as he could without hurting him. Callum responded with a hum. The brunette caught his bottom him between his teeth and pulled slightly. Mick chased his mouth and before they knew their tongues had connected in a cacophony of licks and manoeuvres that silenced the doubt and dash of regret that had followed Mick since the chequered flag.
They separated for air and Callum had to let it be known, “fuck, you’re amazing.”
In response, Mick turned them around dragged Callum to the couch. He made sure both of Callum’s legs were stretched across his thighs and was perched comfortably on his lap. One arm threaded behind his waist and the other rested on his jean-clad thighs. Callum hooped his arm behind the blonde’s neck, hands crossed each other as they laid anchored on Mick’s opposite shoulder.
Callum looked down and Mick caught his eye, he tipped his chin up in a silent ask he knew the reserve driver wouldn’t be able to resist. Callum planted a chaste kiss to his lips... then his cheek... then his nose... and finally his forehead before straightening up.
“How long are you here for?” Mick needed to know.
“However long you need me to be.”
“The last team plane, it leaves in two hours. Come home with me?”
Callum leaned further into Mick’s space, relishing in how the younger man also melted into him. “What, you miss me that much?”
“I always miss you.” There he goes again, Callum thought, with that casual intensity that made him go weak at the knees.
“If Angie is there, I’ll be there.”
“Ok,” Mick giggled.
A calming silence washed over them like a blanket, warmed by the presence of the other. The German wished he could bottle this feeling and carry it with him wherever he went.
Callum was the one to break the silence this time.
“I love you.”
“I know.” A beat. “And I love you.”
“I know.”