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Carlos was sitting on the couch when Charles walked in, spinning his keys on one finger.
“Carlos, I have a few quick errands to run. Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you.”
He glances up, then down, then his jaw drops a little. Charles is dressed casually, a t-shirt and sweatpants. Gray sweatpants that show an obscene outline of his dick.
“Charles.” His voice gets a bit stern. Charles tries not to smile.
“Yeah?”
“You are not leaving the house like that.”
“Like what?” Charles tilts his head to the side, amused.
“Well, if you come a bit closer I could probably count the veins.”
Charles is trying really hard not to smile now. He takes a few steps closer and Carlos’ eyes haven’t shifted for a second. His face is as red as his uniform.
“I mean, seriously, Charles, I can see everything. I can, um, I can…” He trails off. Charles is swaying his hips ever so slightly, passable as restless, but he makes it swing a little. Carlos is getting very stupid very fast.
“That’s only because you are looking, mon amour.”
“And you think they aren’t? You-“ Carlos cuts himself off when he hooks a finger around Charles’ waistband, intending to just pull and let it snap back, but he meets bare skin immediately. Mouth filling with spit, he tugs the sweatpants down on one side. Nothing underneath. “You are just fucking asking for it, aren’t you?”
“I am not.”
“No?” Carlos stands up and Charles’ heart is racing. He takes Charles by his little waist, grip tight.
“No, and I thought you liked when people can see it? See how much my good boy can take?” He runs the tip of his finger along Carlos’ jaw before tilting his chin up and leaning in to kiss him. Carlos’ breath hitches when their bodies meet. They barely break as they stumble towards the bedroom, pulling each other’s shirts off. Carlos sits his teammate down at the edge of the bed and kneels between his legs.
“What I like is when you put on that tiny, tight race suit, and walk me through the paddock, and I see everyone staring. And they imagine, they wonder if they could take it.” Carlos murmurs in between soft kisses down Charles’ stomach, palming at him over his sweatpants. “But I don’t have to wonder. You’re mine.”
“All yours, Carlos.”
Carlos mouths at the head until the fabric is soaked. Charles lifts his hips to help Carlos slip his pants off, and he brings them down slow, letting Charles’ cock slap against his stomach. He groans, low and deep in his throat, getting a hand around him and stroking gently.
“Dios mío, tan hermoso. I could just eat you alive, Charles.”
“Yeah?” He plays with Carlos’ hair, spreading his legs a little wider. Carlos looks up at him, big puppy dog eyes, and leans down. He flattens his tongue up against the underside and takes his time licking up to the tip, savoring the drag. His eyes only stay locked with Charles’ for a moment more as he swirls his tongue around, then kisses a line back down to the base, his thumb rubbing circles over the tip.
“Is it your favorite of my features?” Charles scratches gently at Carlos’ head as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Third, after your dimples and your eyes.”
Charles smiles. Carlos spits, letting it drip down slowly, then works his hand up and down while he’s kissing at Charles’ inner thigh. He bites and licks back up and traces over a vein with the tip of his tongue. Leclerc is breathing hard, trying not to buck his hips. Carlos takes him into his mouth, light pressure with hollowed cheeks, and sinks down.
“Good boy, Carlos.” With one hand, Charles feels over Carlos’ throat, forced open, stretching around him. Carlos breathes in through his nose. “You take me so well.”
Carlos raises his head, lips tight, slow and controlled, then looks back up at Charles as he starts to settle into a rhythm. His heart is pounding, body feverishly hot. He swallows Charles over and over, so eager, so hungry, hand twisting in time with his mouth.
“That’s it, such a good boy.” Charles moans, guiding Carlos’ head by his hair until he pulls off to take a breath.
“Charles, please, fuck my throat. Use it.”
“Yeah, mon amour? Want me to fuck this pretty face of yours?”
Carlos nods, moving to kiss Charles’ hipbone.
“Do you want to stay on your knees or get up on the bed?”
“I want to kneel for you. I like seeing you stand before me like that, so big and strong.” Carlos sits back, watching Charles as he stands up. He can’t even go a second without it, he wraps his hand around Charles’ cock and licks at him. “So fucking big.” He sighs, eyes glazing over, before taking the tip into his mouth and putting his hands in his lap. Charles puts one hand on the back of Carlos’ head and presses in deeper with the other. Sainz keeps his jaw slack and Charles whimpers when he’s all the way in, fingers curling in Carlos’ hair. He starts off gently, lets Carlos get used to it, then puts both hands on his head and starts to roll his hips forward.
The sound is slick and vile as he finds a rough pace. Carlos can barely breathe and his brain is empty, staring at Charles through the tears, obsessed with the way he whines. He uses Carlos’ hair like a leash, pulling him forward.
When he starts shaking too bad to stand, Charles sits back down on the bed, dragging Carlos down with him. He takes back over quickly, head buried in Charles’ lap.
“Carlos, Carlos, I’m so close.”
Carlos pulls back, spitting all the saliva and pre-cum that had pooled in his mouth onto Charles’ cock and jerking him off with it.
“Want to swallow.” He mumbles, voice hoarse, accent thick.
“That’s my good boy.” Charles moans as Carlos dips down again, sucking on the tip, making Charles throb in his hand. “Good boy, good boy, so fucking good, Carlos…”
It pours onto his tongue, down his throat. He swallows happily, working Charles through it, cleaning him up with his tongue while he pants.
“Such a good boy, Carlos.”
He takes one more deep breath before taking Carlos’ face in his hand, looking at him. Breathless, smiling, lips shiny with spit and a droplet of sweat rolling down his temple. He bends down and Carlos sits up to meet him, pressing their lips together. His free hand slips down Carlos’ chest, past his belt, feeling him up over his pants. Carlos twitches into his touch, breaking the kiss to let out a needy little moan. Charles tugs at his hair and he stands. The way he unbuckles his belt with trembling fingers makes Charles’ stomach flip. When he gets his zipper open, his boxers are soaked.
Charles raises his eyebrows a bit.
“Did you come already? Or are you just that wet for me?”
“I might have. I don’t know. All I could focus on was you. If I did, it didn’t help.” Carlos finally gets his pants off and sits on Charles’ lap, straddling his thighs, kissing his neck.
“No, it didn’t.” Charles grabs his hip with one hand and his cock with the other, stroking him, smearing around the pre-cum with his thumb. “So fucking hard, baby, my god.”
“I love it when you use me like that.”
“I always worry if I will hurt you, but you just keep taking it.”
“I’ll take anything you’ll give me, Charles.”
“I know you will, mon amour, my good boy.”
Carlos is rocking his hips into Charles’ hand, biting his collarbone. He whines when Charles takes his hand away, but he forgets all about it once he’s being manhandled onto his back. His legs spread immediately.
“Please, Charles.”
“What do you need?”
“Need you.”
“Yeah?” Charles settles on his knees between Carlos’ legs and reaches for the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube.
“Need you to fuck me, ruin me, wreck me.”
Charles coats two of his fingers and circles them slowly around Carlos’ hole. His legs spread a little more and he takes the bottle from Charles.
“I’m going to fuck you completely stupid, mon amour.”
Carlos smiles, squeezing some lube into his palm. He can’t take his eyes off of his hand around Charles’ cock, already half hard again.
“Incredible, how it makes even my hand look small.”
Charles is blushing twice over. He eases one finger into Carlos, other hand on his thigh.
“I remember one time, when I first came to Ferrari, I walked past your garage. You were standing in the car, about to get in, and you adjusted yourself in your suit. And it didn’t even fucking fit in your hand, not at all. I thought about it the entire day, I jerked off to it for weeks.”
“Really?” Leclerc’s eyes widen as he works his finger in and out.
“Really.” Carlos matches his pace, mesmerized watching Charles harden fully in his grip.
“Next time you can help me.”
“If I even touch you once, you will do the whole race aching.”
Charles adds another finger, crooking them upwards.
“Good. It’ll remind me who I belong to.”
Carlos groans under his breath, head falling back onto the pillows.
“Please, Charles, I need you so bad.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know. Such a needy little thing, aren’t you? I need you to be patient for me though, okay? You’re so, so fucking tight, Carlos. I can barely even move my fingers.”
He’s starting to squirm, grinding down onto Charles’ hand.
“I’ll get used to it, make me get used to it, please.”
“Carlos, come on, be a good boy for me. Are you my good boy?”
“Yes.” Carlos nods, mindlessly playing with Charles’ cock, craving it so bad it hurts.
“That’s right. Just relax and let me take care of you.” Charles carefully slides in his ring finger, moving closer to Carlos. With his other hand, he palms at him, flushed and drooling pre-cum. Carlos whimpers, hips bucking. “Put your hand around both of us.”
Carlos takes their cocks into his hand, damp and hot against each other, then lets out a pathetic moan.
“Say it, Charles, say it, please. I need to hear you say it, por favor.”
Charles looks him up and down, savoring the way he’s blushing and panting and shaking. He makes a show of letting his eyes land on the mess between them, tilting his head side to side slowly, examining. A little smile tugs at the corners of his pretty lips, and he gazes back up at Sainz, looking him right in the eyes. He’s pleading for it, eyebrows pulled together, eyes wide. Charles speaks slowly, a low purr that makes Carlos shudder.
“I’m so much bigger than you, Carlos.”
Carlos’ eyes nearly roll back into his head. Whining, his body arches toward Charles, hand tightening around them.
“Oh my god, I can’t stand it anymore, Charles, I need you inside me.”
“Yeah? You are going to handle all this like a good boy?”
“I’ll be so good for you, mi amor.”
Charles slips his fingers out and slicks himself up. Carlos can’t breathe, he hitches his trembling legs over Charles’ hips and twists up the bedsheet in his hands.
“Take a breath.”
He inhales as Charles teases him with the tip.
“Please, Charles.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, baby. I’ll fill you up and fuck you until you can’t even think, okay?” His thumb rubs soothing circles into Carlos’ hipbone as he starts to press in, slow and gentle.
“Charles, Charles, mi amor. Oh, fuck, Charles.” He whimpers, eyes falling shut, lower back arching. Leclerc is torn between watching Carlos’ face or watching the way he stretches open to take him.
“Good boy, Carlos, doing so good for me.”
By the time their bodies are flush together, Carlos is panting in short and choppy breaths. His hand is clasped over Charles’ and his teeth are gritted.
“Breathe for me, mon amour. You’re doing so well.” Charles’ voice is shaky, Carlos is almost unbearably tight around him, wet and hot. With his other hand, he feels over Carlos’ stomach, pressing down against the slight bulge. “You feel that? So fucking deep, Carlos.”
“Charles…”
He keeps his hand there as he pulls back slowly, then pushes in.
“Good boy, Carlos.”
Carlos shivers, legs spreading wider, opening his eyes to look up at Charles. He stares with desperation, squeezing the younger man’s hand. Charles takes him by the waist and starts to pull him back into each soft thrust, steadily picking up speed until he’s driving hard into Carlos.
“Charles, fuck, oh my god.”
“That’s it, baby, you take it like such a good boy. So tight.”
Carlos can only moan Charles’ name as the ache falls away, replaced by searing hot sparks every time Leclerc hits his sensitive nerves. His arms fall above his head, fingers twisting up the pillowcase. Charles holds him with a bruising grasp until the pity takes over and he curls his fingers around Carlos’ cock, so red and soaked and hard.
“If you do that I’ll come, Charles.” He spits.
“Can I continue after?”
“Do with me as you please, I’m yours.” Carlos whimpers. Charles’ eyes light up, and he starts stroking Carlos as fast as he’s fucking him. Carlos arches toward his teammate, dripping in his hand.
“Charles, mi amor.” He gasps, twitching.
“Go on, pretty boy, make a mess for me.”
His body obeys Charles instantly. It coats his stomach, his chest, Charles’ hand. He gets so tight it makes Charles wince, nails digging into Carlos’ skin.
“So good for me, aren’t you, Carlos?” Leclerc slows a little as the sensitivity sets in, but he thrusts just as hard, bringing his hand up to Carlos’ mouth. “Clean up your mess.”
Barely coherent, Carlos grabs his wrist and brings him closer, lapping the cum from his palm and between his fingers. When it’s all gone, Charles bends down, forearms beside Carlos’ head. He presses their lips together, messy and wet, swallowing the cries from the Ferrari driver as he works back up to pace. Carlos rakes his nails down Charles’ back, his legs shaking. His big brown eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed and overworked.
“Come on, Carlos, take it. I know you can. You’re such a good boy for me.”
Carlos drags in a breath.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, Charles.”
“There’s my good boy. Such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” Charles gets his teeth into Carlos’ neck, the sweat making his scratches sting.
“Yeah. Let me ride you, baby.” Carlos moans, tilting his head back to let Charles get a better angle.
“Yeah? Want to show me what a good slut you are?”
“Please.”
“Are you going to cry when I pull out?”
“Not if you kiss me.”
Leclerc kisses him, deep and full of tongue, while he draws back and then lies down. Carlos straddles him, sitting on his cock, letting out a broken whine when he’s fully seated. He runs his hands up Charles’ stomach, coming to rest on his ribcage. Charles feels up Carlos’ thighs, grabbing at his ass, spreading him open, before leaving one hand on his hip and wrapping the other around his cock.
“Did you even get soft at all? Unbelievable, Carlos.”
“F-Feels so fucking good.” Carlos slurs, starting to rock his hips, head falling forward.
“Yeah? You are such a good vaquero riding your prancing horse.”
Carlos shudders, throbbing, trying not to drool. He opens his eyes and looks up at Charles, whimpering at the sight. He looks like he just raced, pink and sweaty, hair a mess. But his lips are never this bitten, eyes never this glassy. Carlos slides a hand up Charles’ throat and puts two fingers in his mouth. Charles sucks on them eagerly, rolling his hips up in time with Carlos. When his fingers are drenched in spit, Carlos brings them to his own mouth, sitting up. He drinks down Charles’ saliva, grinding back onto his cock and forward into his hand.
“Good boy, Carlos, fuck. So filthy. I love how stupid you get on my dick, just a drooling little slut.”
“Charles…” He groans, half listening, riding him harder and getting lost in it. “Charles, so full, it’s so fucking big.”
“And you take it like a champ, Carlos.”
Carlos smiles, and leans down to kiss his teammate. Charles takes Carlos’ hips with both hands, bending his knees and thrusting up into him. Carlos’ legs tighten around Charles, he nuzzles into the crook of his neck and bites at him in between whiny moans. Charles puts one hand in Carlos’ hair, giving it a hard pull. He goes weak against Charles, letting him take over for the most part.
“While you were busy jerking off to the thought of me in the garage, I was doing it to the thought of pulling your hair.”
“How did you imagine it the most?” Carlos pants, trying to sit up, his whole body trembling.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
A heavy wave of heat falls over Carlos. He crawls over on the bed, trying not to pout at the emptiness. His hips rise and his shoulders fall, a deep arch down his back, legs set apart. Charles is breathless staring at him, getting on his knees behind him. He slowly runs his hands up the backs of Carlos’ thighs, pressing into the muscle, squeezing and smacking his ass.
“Again?” Carlos mumbles. Charles smiles to himself and obliges, this time striking with a heavier hand. Carlos groans.
“Now, to answer your question.” He leaves one hand resting on Sainz’s waist, drips a little more lube onto his hole, and eases back in. Carlos breathes, the bedsheets caught in his hands as he starts to move. Charles traces up Carlos’ spine with his fingertips until he gets to his hair, tangling it up in his grasp. “I thought of you like this, bent over, back arched like a good boy.”
Carlos leans his head into it, jaw dropping, eyebrows pulling together.
“Harder, please, Charles.”
“Harder how? Like this?” Charles readjusts his grip, tugging on Carlos’ hair. “Or this?” He pulls out and drives back in, sharp and rough. Carlos cries out, tears welling up in his eyes. He tries to answer but Charles does it again, and again, faster each time. The tears slip down his reddened cheeks, eyes pure white when they crack open, head only help up by Charles’ hand. “What’s that, pretty boy? Can’t hear you.”
“Char… Charles…”
“That’s not an answer, baby.”
“Mi amor, Charles.” Is all he can get out. Charles releases his hair and his upper body falls, chest on the bed, head resting on his forearms.
“That’s all you can say?” Charles has his teammate’s hips with both hands, dragging him back into every thrust. “That’s okay, just take it like a good boy. You don’t need to know anything else. Fuck, Carlos, I’m close.”
Carlos whimpers, his cock pulsing as he gasps for air, spit spilling over his lip.
“Need it, need it, need it, please. Fuck, need you to come in me, please.” He sobs.
Charles reaches forward and wraps his hand around Carlos’ throat, pulling him upright. Their bodies stick together from the sweat.
“Going to come so deep inside you it will still be dripping out when you do media tomorrow.” Charles pants, licking up the side of Carlos’ neck before spitting into his palm and getting his hand around Carlos’ cock. He leans his head back onto Leclerc’s shoulder, letting his teammate tear into his neck. “My good boy.”
“I’m yours, Charles.”
“Mine.” Charles hisses, motions getting quicker and more desperate, free hand clawing at the older man. With a few final stutters of his hips he’s spilling into Carlos, and the way he moans in his ear sends Carlos over the edge with him. They whine, twitch, pant like dogs in each other’s arms. Charles fucks them through it and lies Carlos back down, kissing his neck, gently pulling out. “Such a good boy for me, amour.”
Carlos’ back rises and falls quickly under Charles’ hand as he catches his breath. Charles runs a finger up Carlos’ spine, ruffling his hair.
“You are still with me?”
“I think so.” Carlos mumbles, turning over to look at his teammate. “Come here.”
Charles smiles and joins him, lying down next to him, arms around him. Carlos traces circles over Charles’ ribs.
“Sometimes we say things, and I wonder how many of the same fantasies we have had about each other. How similar they were.”
“I bet many. But not in a million years could I have dreamed how it would really be like. You blow my mind, mon chéri.”
“I seem to blow a lot of you.”
Charles’ giggle makes Carlos feel even warmer, gives him butterflies.
“Yes, you do. You’re quite good at it.”
Carlos places a soft kiss to Leclerc’s chest.
“So I’ve heard. You were not actually going to leave the house like that, were you?”
“Of course not. I just like to get you all worked up.” Charles runs his fingers through Carlos’ hair.
“You’re quite good at it.” Sainz sits up, cupping Charles’ jaw and pulling him into another kiss. “After we shower, will you put those stupid, slutty pants on again?”
“Will you keep your hands to yourself for even five minutes if I do?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good boy.”