#lewis goes to drive for fernando with like. yuki or smth. seb is his race engineer. it is terrible. it is wonderful

[milflewis]

35 + ferwis

35: to gain something

Fernando corners him on the way back from the bathroom, blocking him in between Sebastian’s bedroom door and large mahogany bookcase. His eyes are hazy with drink, mouth wet, and he smells like the veggie noodles Sebastian had cooked — everything handmade and vegan — and weed, the spicy cologne that Jenson gets him every Christmas undercutting it all.

Lewis leans back against the wall, slouching down a little further than he intended to, hands in his pockets, and waits. Jenson is singing Barbie Girl downstairs and Lewis can hear Sebastian laughing, trying to stop Mark from unplugging the speaker.

Fernando frowns at him, glaring. “I own a team now.”

Lewis hums. “You’re actually the team principal, not the owner, but okay.”

Fernando waves a hand, half rolling his eyes, dismissive and short. Lewis grins. “Whatever. I manage a team then. Details. Doesn’t matter. You are retiring next year.”

Lewis blinks. “Am I?”

“Yes.” Fernando steps in closer. “Everyone knows this. Don’t try to lie. Doesn’t matter. You should come drive for me. One year. Maybe two.”

Lewis laughs, the sound falling out of him, bent double at the waist, fist pressed into his stomach. Just as he thinks he’s caught his breath again he spots Fernando’s face, all heavy eyebrows and dark eyes and mouth in a flat line and he’s set off again.

“Ah,” Lewis says, patting him on the chest, hiccuping slightly. “That was a good one, thanks, man.”

“I am not joking. I want you to drive for me.”

Lewis squints at him for a moment before lifting up a hand, holding the back of it against Fernando’s forehead. “You feeling okay?”

Fernando slaps him away, fingers curling around Lewis’s wrist, hand hot and tight. “I am fine. Stop being stupid.”

Lewis tugs his hand away, once, and then again, but Fernando holds him close. Lewis lets him after a second, it’s easier than fighting him when he gets into these moods.

His eyes are dark and big up this close. “I want you,” Fernando says, loud and clear, breath hot on Lewis’s face. If you were someone else, I probably would dreamt of this, Lewis thinks and laughs as Fernando continues. “To drive for me, you idiot.”

Lewis is still laughing when Fernando kisses him, hot and deep and dirty, fingers digging into his wrist. Lewis lets his legs fall open further, leaning back so Fernando steps into his space. His free hand pulls at Fernando’s hair until his mouth opens and Lewis licks his way in, biting at his lip.

Lewis opens his eyes, marvelling at the sweep of Fernando’s eyelashes, with his eyes closed they look so long. He maybe could’ve done without smoking that second joint. Fernando presses a thigh between Lewis’s legs, up and hard and insistent, jean stiff against Lewis’s soft sweats. Lewis moans, not bothering to catch the sound in his throat.

Fernando’s eyebrows do that thing that they do when he wants to be delighted with the win but knows Lewis gave it to him and hates how that cheapens it. Lewis grins as Fernando pulls away, mouth ducking in to wet the line of his jaw before moving back.

“You deserved that,” Fernando says, dragging a thumb across Lewis’s bottom lip. Lewis hums, tilting his head back until it hits the wall with a dull thump. There is a small cobweb hanging off the hallway light. Lewis wonders if Sebastian names the bugs in his house like he does with his bees.

“Maybe,” Lewis says. “Probably. But you enjoyed it.”

Fernando rolls his eyes properly this time. “I always enjoy putting you in your place. It is very satisfying.”

“Yeah,” Lewis bites at his mouth, catching Fernando’s thumb with his teeth, rocking his hips forward, dick dragging along Fernando’s, half hard already. “I can feel how satisfied you are.”

Fernando pushes his face to the side, Lewis giggling, catching himself on the bookcase. “Think about it,” he calls over his shoulder, walking a little awkwardly. Lewis smiles.