#also it's so hard to write dovi as andrea i need to write dovi and then edit it out because his narration would be that but still

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

nearly, nearly, nearly: dovquez [t]

@dovquezdecember + near

“Dovi!” Marc says clumsily, flashes him a grin—sun-bright, shameless.

Andrea is thinking. He was nearly a champion this season. Nearly, nearly, nearly. But it wasn’t so close at the end, -37 points, and the entire ocean between Marc making a miraculous save and him screaming on the gravel trap.

His fingers spasm around his empty glass, just once. Andrea is acutely aware of the camera glares, of way, way, way too many people around. Too soon to get another one, and the one after that. The frizz of alcohol is heavy in his stomach, leaden.

Marc makes a noise—impossible to make sense of. Andrea blinks, remembers he should answer him any time now. His tongue is stuck on the roof of his mouth, but it isn’t Marc’s fault that everything had to go right today and nothing did.

He drops whatever he was planning on saying. Marc brandishes his own champagne flute, takes Andrea’s empty one for himself. It’s full—lukewarm prosecco, sure, but it’s full.

Andrea—against his own will, let it be said—laughs.

Marc’s eyes go round, shiny. His hand comes down to cling to the sleeve of his suit, where it falls half an inch too long. And he sways towards him, chest brushing against the side of his arm. Andrea cups the small of his back, raises his eyebrows.

“The drinks aren’t good enough for you to be drunk already.” He prods—harmlessly, his voice pitched low.

He could be drunk on everything else, though. His podium, his sixth championship in—God—eight years, Honda delirious over their golden boy.

Marc bats his lashes coyly, pretends to think. “It was a good dinner, don’t be mean.”

It was, is the thing. He stopped counting after the fourth course, the tenth FIM/Dorna exec with a polished smile that congratulated him on a clean, sportsmanlike dispute—probably having the time of their times that it didn’t end in death threats and a sports court.

Andrea snorts. “Drinks are still shit.”

For all that Marc says don’t be mean, the corners of his lips are trying to quirk up again. Just as cruel.

And when he catches Andrea looking, Marc ducks his head away. Tries to hide it.

He’s so—he’s a sharp, shameless little thing. Hurts to cradle him close, cuts his palms to gory ribbons. Andrea clings, anyway. The party has dulled to a trickle of I wish it was me that barely registers. He fancies he can spot the place where Marc kissed the tower on his mouth, his teeth—like Raphael’s blessing.

His stomach rolls with champagne, too little food he wasn’t feeling up for. Sizzles.

“It was a good season, too.” Marc speaks abruptly but quietly. The cut of his jaw turned bullish, stubborn.

He can feel the tension pressed on his side. It’s not even like gearing up for a risky overtake—Marc throws himself into those with wild joy, again and again and again. This is measured, strained. Marc’s spine grows rigid where he’s touching.

Andrea hums. “Are you going to say you’re sorry?”

Marc’s expression slackens, softens with confusion. “What?”

“You look like you might.”

“For winning?” Andrea nods, stares at him expectantly—wills his face to stay flat and unamused and is only mostly sure he succeeds. Marc purses his mouth, lets him catch a hint of teeth and the downturned curve of his lips. “No way.”

And listen—

Andrea shakes his head. He feels that gold-tinted lightness filling the insides of his chest. Maybe he’s drunk, four glasses catching up like outbreaking himself into a highside, but it’s easier now than it was a couple minutes ago, when the champagne tasted stolen, tasted like trackside dust and a mocking round of applause in his garage.

“You are horrible.”

He watches it happen in real time, how Marc pulls a face, how his eyes flutter to look at him and then away.

People call him brutish, impulsive—it’s not true. Just because he was born without a sense of self-preservation doesn’t mean he doesn’t think. Marc is a shrewd thing. Calculating. He wonders what he was trying to find with that look.

But he’s probably a little drunk himself too, or Andrea wouldn’t have caught that minute flinch in his expression. Marc is too opaque for acting mistakes these days.

It is the thing about Marc. Andrea doesn’t know if he’s bracing for a slap or it never coming despite how much he wants it to.

“I don’t think you mean that,” he says—petulantly, imperiously.

Very, very deliberately.

Andrea smiles, squeezes his back. “I do, I do!”

“No, you don’t.”

He does. But Marc is horrible like a tricky corner, or a bull charging in a bullfight. Predictable only in how it scares you shitless no matter how many times you try it. Horrible in that clammy fear you’re going to be swept along. Fucking fantastic when you conquer it—if you do.

It’s there anyway, of course, red-hot, that frustration—the shame in the gravel, in the garage. But Andrea tries to get angry only about things he can control.

Marc winning isn’t personal, is it.

He takes a breath, lets that awkward silence wash over him, over them, releasing that aimless frustration knot by knot. Marc fidgets against him, rehearsing taking a small step to the side, away from him. Andrea considers for a moment, half of one—doesn’t let go of his grip on him, on the fabric of the back of Marc’s suit.

There are cameras, still. Too many people. It’s none of their business—

This is, Andrea reasons, nothing worth hiding.

“It was a good season,” he says, gently—either an agreement or a concession.

Marc relaxes a fraction, does his best to tuck himself against him no matter that he’s a couple of centimeters taller. Finally, finally, he looks at Andrea straight on, with his usual hungry shamelessness, eyes huge and liquid on his face.

“You looked like you were having fun.”

“Here and there,” Andrea shrugs, isn’t even a bit surprised when he feels Marc’s fingers slip under his shirt to hold the jut of his wrist. “I had this pest bothering me.”

He is surprised at how hot those tiny points of pressure feel. His pulse drums against the thin skin of his wrist.

Marc bristles, indignant. “You ambushed me this whole year!”

Here and there, when he could, when he managed to make it work. In Austria, Japan. Andrea made himself steady as a metronome, harmless until he wasn’t—he wasn’t going to outcrazy Marc anyway, might as well try something unorthodox.

“You weren’t very angry about that from what I remember,” Andrea replies mildly. Mock-dry.

Marc nudges him with his shoulder, tries to scowl but melts into a loud, honking chuckle. It’s evidently, incredibly disarming. “Fuck off, I was! You always knew what I was going to try next. I thought you were going to drive me crazy.”

“Not even you can win them all.”

Marc grins—shiv-quick, self-satisfied. He looks like he’s winning this one, whatever this one is. “I can try.”

Andrea is thinking—it isn’t self-pity this time. Feels about just as dangerous. Marc’s touch is insistent, makes him fidgety all the way to the bone. He isn’t even the slightest bit innocent himself either—hand splayed on Marc’s back, the tip of his little finger reaching suspiciously lower than it was a moment ago.

He swallows. Marc tracks the jerky move of his throat, stares at him through his lashes. It is as shameless as it is—unfortunately—effective.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I enjoyed myself?” There’re nails biting into his forearm lightly. A smirk—broad, pink-lipped.

Cocky little bastard, isn’t he?

“You still are.”

Marc preens, forgets—for a slip of a second—to keep his cards close to his chest. Everything about him becomes bright enough to blind, to cast spots in his vision like he’s staring into the sun. He is horribly easy to like, to forgive.

Even through the stab of the annoyance, the tangle of thorns wrapped around his throat that Andrea has to name envy. Even when he wants to shake Marc by the shoulders—don’t you know? Don’t you see what you are? It never sticks. Marc is that dangerous in close proximity.

Looks eager to prove that he is, too. He shifts his head from one side to the other, gauges the crowd. There’s this focused frown on his forehead. Andrea knows him well enough to brace himself. Realizes—too late—that there’s no bracing for an inspired Marc.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” He pauses, bludgeons on when Andrea doesn’t immediately reply. “I want to.”

Christ.

Christ on the bloody cross.

He doesn’t know why he expected Marc to be subtle or careful, but still.

Andrea sputters out a cough, laughs. He can hear the strain in his voice—the complete fucking disbelief. “What? Here?”

It is a yes by any other name. Marc shrugs, chuckles—he’s an insolent thing, fingers straying playfully over his arm, looking so very sure of himself. Of getting what he wants, always.

Smug.

“Why not?” He asks, eyebrows wagging. It is ridiculous. So is the rush of fondness in his chest. The fishhook tug of Marc’s tongue flashing over his teeth.

Andrea isn’t—usually, he amends—so reckless.

“You’re insane.”

Marc stares at him, shark-eyed, unblinking. It slices through him cleanly like a hot knife, like Marc on a left-hander circuit. “You keep saying that.”

And yet goes unsaid.

He breathes in, a little funny, constricted. His fingers spasm on Marc’s back, cling to the smooth downiness of his pressed shirt. Want jolts through him like touching a live wire—he isn’t thinking. It’s the easiest thing in the world to move his hand, eyes on the party that feels like his burial.

Marc chokes on a noise when Andrea untucks his clothes to reach the skin of his back, when his thumb digs into one of his Venus dimples.

“Alright,” he mutters, soft.

The room melts to nothing around him, a kaleidoscopic blur of color and people he doesn’t care about. Marc’s head is bent, tucked close to his own—an inch closer, and they’ll be inside each other’s skin, breathing the same air. Andrea can only think about the pinkness of his mouth—how near it is.

[sbknews]

New Post has been published on Superbike News

New Post has been published on http://superbike-news.co.uk/wordpress/faster-last-year-riders-ready-take-silverstone/

Faster than last year - riders ready to take on Silverstone

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Ahead of track action on Friday for the Octo British Grand Prix, the Pre-Event Press Conference got the ball rolling at Silverstone, with Championship leader Marc Marquez (Repsol Honda Team) joined by Andrea Dovizioso (Ducati Team), Maverick Viñales (Movistar Yamaha MotoGP), Dani Pedrosa (Repsol Honda Team), Cal Crutchlow (LCR Honda), a Union Jack-wearing Scott Redding (Octo Pramac Racing) and Tom Lüthi (CarXpert Interwetten). Talk focused on the challenge of the long, fast Silverstone Circuit, and a few questions about the weather – as always when touching down for the British GP.

First to speak was reigning Champion – and Championship leader – Marc Marquez,who first debriefed Spielberg before talking Silverstone: a difficult but good track for the rider from Cervera: “Austria was a great race and I was at home on the sofa watching it again and it was really nice to watch! Dovi was really fast there, he had a bit more than me but we tried until the end and I was very happy to take 20 points there. But now we’re at Silverstone, and we had a good test at Misano before. Last year I was close to the podium so the target is to stay consistent and try and get on the podium. Weather is always a question mark here! This is one of the most difficult circuits on the calendar, it’s demanding physically, difficult to warm the tyres…but I felt good since I came here with a MotoGP bike in 2013. I know here can be a weekend where Maverick will be strong but I’ll try and work hard in the garage and get ready for the race on Sunday.”

Andrea Dovizioso, who moved up to second in the standings after his stunning Austrian GP win, agreed it’s a tough circuit – but says he thinks it’s a great venue: “It’s a wonderful track. It’s very long, difficult, a lot of lines and bumps…and the English weather! But it’s really nice to ride in MotoGP. Last year was a strange race but I think this year it will be different; I think we are more competitive. But let’s see, we’re going into the race very relaxed. I hope it can be as close as Austria again – when I watched it again at home I was more nervous then! But I think this weekend there will be more riders who can be fast. It’s a different story every weekend and we’ll have to see, but it looks like we’ll have good weather and there will be time to work with the bike.”

Next up it was Maverick Viñales, who won the race last year, and has some extra-special memories of the track: “It’s always really nice to come here, with great memories in the smaller categories and last year. It’s really important to start pushing 100% here and giving the maximum. Friday, especially FP2, will be very important to decide which direction to take with the tyres. It’s tough now but that only makes us stronger, and when good times come we’ll make the most of them. And it was great to do the test in Misano before coming to Silverstone.”

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Key rival Dani Pedrosa agreed on the need to maximise track time – and is also raring to get out the blocks and down to work: “The last two races were quite good for me. We’ve been working a lot since the last test, so hopefully we can maintain the same level. We were testing a few days ago and the level is good. We’ll work from FP1, at this track it’s important to get laps because we don’t come here often. It’s long, wide and you need to learn the bumps. You need to get feeling with the track. Everything from FP1 will be important, qualifying is obviously an important point, the start…but we need to focus to try the tyres and understand which is best for the whole race and which for the laptime. More settings and laps are always useful.”

Then, of course, it being the British GP meant the UK was well-represented in the Press Conference, with last year’s polesitter and podium finisher Cal Crutchlow the next man to talk. He expects a tough challenge this season, but is looking forward to putting on a show for the crowd: “I always look forward to coming back to Silverstone, putting on the best show for MotoGP and for all the fans who turn up. Having Brits in all three categories is always good to give fans something to cheer about, and hopefully we can be up there too. I’ve had some good results here over my career but it’s not a circuit I like a lot – it’s bumpy, and I think I’d have to be very lucky on Sunday to overhaul these guys here. I think it will be a lot faster than last year but I look forward to being in the mix again and we’ll see what we can do.”

Compatriot Scott Redding also agrees it’s a great weekend for the home riders – and that track time is vital: “I always like to come back here to my home GP. I look forward to the weekend! From the first time out if the temperature comes up a bit or it rains…we have to use as much track time as we can. That’s the plan, just try and get everything dialed in and do the best we can, like always. It’s been a tough year but it kind of doesn’t show, I’ve put myself in good positions, we’ve struggled in some races but now we’ve been working differently – and I think that can help me in the next races.”

Finally, after announcing his move to MotoGP ™ with EG 0,0 Marc VDS next year, Tom Lüthi joined the Press Conference; full of excitement about moving up, but ready to fight the Championship fight in the intermediate class until the end of the year – against future premier class teammate Franco Morbidelli: “It’s great to sit here and next to all these guys, it’s like a dream come true. It’s amazing for me and I want to thank the team for giving me this chance! Now everything is fixed, the future is clear and I think it’s important to get it out my head again and focus on Moto2. Morbidelli isn’t unbeatable, so we have to keep it up, try and be in front for Valencia and the last race… and then start a new story!”

Silverstone is sure to write a new story in the tale of the incredible 2017 Championship, with track action beginning on Friday – and five riders still very much in contention for the title when the lights go out at 15:30 (GMT +1) on Sunday for the race.

Meet Marquez and Pedrosa at Misano, and support Nicky Hayden Memorial Fund

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