#marc pats(?) vale's back

[scrollonso]

them (marc and alex)

[moonshynecybin]

one thing for sure : Marc would have been made captain early on à la Toews/Sid/Connor

(and you know people would doubt him at the beginning, say he’s too young and not captain material, etc)

this is so funny because it would be like. 19 year old marc too. baby. if we’re going off of youngest ever nhl captain. imagine rocking up to training camp and there’s marc with his acne and his black eye giving you the shark eyed stare in between honk laughs. crosby-esque in that regard…

i DO love this scenario because i think it works to heal a fundamental wound in marc which is how his ability/desire to compete kind of isolates him… he CAN work on a team he LOVES working on a team but if he’s in competition with you he’s not gonna hold anything back… so folding him into a hockey team where it’s all about building those lasting friendships that actually HELP you compete is going to be sweet… i still think he has a bit of that alien isolation (again pulling on sid here for some reason lol) but it’s mitigated which is niceee

HONESTLY in that same vein i can see the vale fallout coming where they’re on the SAME team marc’s rookie/sophomore year and then they have to compete at the olympics and marc is a SHARK and that’s what fucks them up… marc hits vale hard on the forecheck and it’s all like YOU KICK MIETTE? from there on out until vale leaves the team and in the playoffs shit hits the fan (to pull on sid AGAIN. injuring claude giroux’s wrists at the face-off dot in 2012 and being absolutely unrepentant)… BUT. BEFORE the divorce. can we all just take a minute and think about the cellys…. marc’s smiling face pressed into vale’s jersey while vale shakes him around with a noogie on the head and then pats him on the ass… COMPLETELY ignoring their lineys… nasty…

[dickinfectionbez]

It began as a joke.

Luca doesn't remember who made the joke, but here was was. Pol Espargaro, Alex Marquez and him all sitting in the kitchen of the Ranch. The meeting point would rotate, one time Pol would host, then Alex and finally Luca. The three of them formed a group lovingly dubbed, 'the brother support group for horny MotoGP riders' or just 'the group' for short.

This was the first time they met in the Ranch. The air smelt of lemons and sea salt, Alex sat down in his usual seat, a frequent visitor. Pol sat down next to Alex on the sofa, confused on why there were so many saxophones displayed on the walls. He turned to Alex, looking at him only to get a shrug in return.

Luca sat down, drink in hand as the doorbell rung. He cursed under his breath, getting up and turning on his heels to the door. He returned, a small box in his hands. Pol opened his mouth and closed it as Luca tossed the box onto the table, sitting on the floor with his hands on his head. "I can't do this anymore." He mumbled into his knees. "I don't even know how to play the sax. The reeds keep splintering in my mouth."

Alex looked at Pol. Pol looked at Alex. Luca stayed with his head on his knees.

"They keep gifting me a saxophone. I don't know why they keep gifting me a saxophone. They have sex and I gets saxophone." Pol slid off the sofa, sitting on the floor, arm on Luca's back. "Who keeps getting you a saxophone?" He asked carefully.

Alex shook his head, trying not to laugh as Luca looked up. "Vale and his hook-ups." Pol coughed, covering a laugh as Luca stood up. "It all started when I was 13 and I accidentally walked in on Vale. The lady he slept with was this jazz singer and he gave me a saxophone for some fucked up reason."

Luca began to pace, "-and after that every single person Vale has hooked up with has bought me a fucking saxophone. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PLAY THE SAXOPHONE. The guy who owns the music shop where I buy the reeds knows when I'm running out. The guy tried to teach me how to play but he stopped. Do you know why?" Pol shrugged his shoulders and Alex looked away. "BECAUSE HE FUCKED VALE."

Luca huffed, sitting back down. His face red and breath laboured as Alex patted his back. Pol just stared at the man, mentally calling his therapist for a joint session for the trio.

Luca whined slightly as he turned his head. "I once walked in on Cele fucking Bez. I saw his cock and balls. He pulled out him thrust and do you know what he did?" Pol shook his head again. "HE PULLED OUT A JELLYCAT SAXOPHONE PLUSH AND GAVE IT TO ME THEN CLOSED THE DOOR AND STARTED FUCKING BEZ AGAIN." His head flopped down again. "Didn't even know Jellycat made Saxophone plushies." Alex muttered as Pol smacked his forehead.

"-they say get laid, it'll distract you. I CAN ONLY THINK OF CELE'S DICK AND BALLS WHEN IM NAKED. I DONT WANT TO THINK OF HIS DICK AND BALLS." Pol stood up, sneaking to the kitchen and picking up a half-empty bottle of alcohol. He took a swig, handing it to Alex who did the same. Luca, when given the bottle, chugged the remaining alcohol as the conversation moved to lighter topics.

Alex thought to himself how greatful he was that Marc was always at Vale's and Pol was greatful that he didn't know anything about what Aleix was doing.

[42bakery]

happy lucamarc day waru !!! hope your day is going well <3333

OMG This is the way I learn that Marc lives rent free in Luca's mind. And it's also funny in which way, because it's so different from the way that Marc lives in Vale's mind. It also makes sense that difference.

Did you notice he says Marc Márquez? Well for Luca is always Marc Márquez because just Márquez is Álex. He's following the tradition of beefing with a Márquez, but it's Álex and we don't know why

Also did you notice how quick Luca asked if it the question refer to cat ears on the helmet? My boy is showing his otaku side 🙌🙌🙌🙌.

I also notice, Luca like to have his ass patted and finds it normal. Joan on the other way says it's the back, so not loving to have his ass messed.

[hotmessmaxpress]

can we please have bez/cele getting together in of au?

Yes you can! This is a direct continuation of this, where Bezz finds out that Celestino subscribed to Marc's onlyfans before Marc and Vale started dating. That threw Bezz into a gay crisis, and here we are!

Thanks for waiting so patiently for this!

OnlyFans au interlude: celestino and bezz

Bezz wakes up the following morning on Celestino’s couch. He’s stiff and still a little tired, and he enjoys that special type of calm that comes from waking up in a safe place. 

He freezes when he remembers the events of the previous day.

Cele has an onlyfans account and he subscribes to Marc Marquez. Bezz lays there, staring at the ceiling, wondering what other types of people Cele subscribes to. Do any of them look like him? Are they all tiny, fit twinks? Are they all fucking Spanish?

Bezz doesn’t realize he’s breathing heavily until Celestino walks timidly into the room. 

“Bezz? Are you okay?”

Bezz sits up and looks at Cele. He’s sleep-rumpled, and Bezz wonders how late the two of them must have slept. There’s a pillow line across one of Cele’s cheeks, and the neck of his shirt is stretched out. Bezz wants to wrap Celin up in a blanket and bundle him back into bed. He wants to hold him and kiss him on the forehead and make sure he’s warm and comfortable at all times. 

The revelation nearly sends him into another panic attack. Now that he’s acknowledged that he likes men, or, at least likes one man, it’s like he is seeing Cele with new eyes. 

“I”m okay,” Bezz says, voice rough and a little high pitched. 

Cele stands there awkwardly for a moment, and Bezz pats the couch next to him. Cele sits down, and he grabs the edge of Bezz’s blanket so he can pull part of it over himself as well. 

“Can we talk about yesterday?” Bezz blurts.

Celestino looks like he would rather do quite literally anything else, but he doesn’t get up, so that’s a win. 

Bezz has no idea what to say now that he’s opened the door, though. How do you tell your best friend that you’re having some not-quite-heterosexual thoughts about him? How is he supposed to tell Celestino that he hates Marc now, only because he has to live with the knowledge that Cele found Marc so attractive that he–

“You aren’t going to tell Vale, are you?” Celestino asks awkwardly, interrupting Bezz’s spiraling.

“What?” Bezz asks, staring at him. 

“Please don’t tell him. If you think he needs to know then I should be the one to tell him– but I already cancelled my subscription, okay?”

Well, that’s not the direction Bezz thought this was going to go. 

“That’s not what– no, I’m not going to tell Vale. I am trying to explain…” 

Cele stares at him expectantly. 

“I don’t like that you followed Marc. I don’t like that you’ve seen him naked.”

Cele recoils, embarrassed and clearly a little hurt. Bezz immediately realizes his fuckup and knows there’s no coming back from this. He can’t let Cele think he’s homophobic. 

“Bezz-”

“I’m jealous,” Bezz croaks. “I don’t want you to be attracted to him.”

Cele stares at him. Now that Bezz has admitted it, it’s impossible for him to stop his mouth. 

“I want you to think of me that way because I want to think of you that way. And I know you didn’t have sex with him but in a way it feels like you did, and I am jealous of that because he doesn’t deserve that from you. You shouldn’t have to watch him jack off or whatever because you deserve to be taken care of,” Bezz complains. 

Cele is staring at him.

“Sorry,” Bezz adds, as an afterthought. 

Cele is still staring at him. 

“You’re gay?” Celestino asks, dubiously. 

Bezz hadn’t gotten that far in his internal discussion when he woke up. He has no idea, and he’s not sure how to explain that to Cele. He hasn’t ever considered if he likes men before. He knows without a doubt that he likes Cele, though. He thinks he probably always has. It feels like breathing. This entire situation has felt like his world has been upended, but liking Celestino feels like breathing. 

“I… I don’t know,” Bezz says lamely. 

Cele looks away. 

“But you like me?”

Bezz nods, but Cele isn’t looking at him. 

“Yes. I think… I didn’t ever really think about it until you said you follow Marc and I felt jealous. And then I had to think about why I felt jealous. And I guess if I’m jealous that means I’m at least a little gay, right?”

Cele is silent for a moment before he snorts and starts laughing. 

Bezz shoves at him, embarrassed and defensive. 

“You’re supposed to be supportive!”

Cele is howling with laughter now. 

“Of course I am supportive! But you were the one who made me think you were mad at me yesterday!”

Bezz frowns. 

“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely, but Cele is clearly not listening. He’s still wheezing with laughter at Bezz’s expense. 

Bezz pouts while Cele calms back down. 

“I shouldn’t have told you,” Bezz complains. 

That seems to remind Cele of what they were talking about, and he turns to Bezz with wide eyes. 

“Wait,” Cele says, “you have feelings for me.”

Bezz’s heart is racing and he nods. 

“You are jealous that I follow Vale’s boyfriend because you want me to see you naked, not him.”

Bezz nods again, sure that he has never been this mortified in his life. 

“You’re ‘a little bit gay’,” Cele says, making exaggerated air quotes. 

Bezz buries his face in his hands. 

Cele laughs again, then pulls at Bezz’s wrists until he uncovers his face. 

“You’re lucky I’ve had a crush on you since I was thirteen.”

Bezz makes a startled noise at that information, but before he can think, Cele has placed a hand on the back of his neck and guided their faces together. 

It’s the worst first kiss Bezz has ever had. Their noses bump together and Cele is still giggling a little bit, and Bezz’s brain is still moving so slowly that he only realizes he’s being kissed as Cele is already pulling away. 

He frowns, deciding that is not good enough, and he leans forward. This time he’s prepared for it, and Cele has stopped laughing, and when their lips meet it’s easy for Bezz to close his eyes and relax. 

Kissing Cele is feels normal. It’s almost anticlimactic how normal it feels. There are no fireworks or explosions. 

It feels like getting on the bike; a flash of nervousness followed by a sense of rightness; a feeling that all is well. Bezz has a flash of frustration at himself for taking so long to realize that he wanted this. 

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but when they finally pull apart they’re both smiling.

[whoregaylorenzo]

do we have any idea what happened between mavio? oh fellow mavio lover please tell me you have an idea 🥺

oh bestie....*pats seat next to me* we're really in it now aren't we..😭😭

okay there's definitely better ppl to ask this since I've only been here for a few months but I'll tell you what I think I know

disclaimer: a lot of the gaps of my knowledge (so a lot) are filled in with dramatic exaggerations and my own headcanons so don't take it too seriously

1. maverick comes into motogp with one championship under his belt (moto3) and a third place in moto2, from what I've gathered he'd been seen as one of the real next talents, I'm not 100% sure of the timeline but I know I've heard vale mention him as well as marc as someone who could be quick/has a lot of talent

2. he starts off at suzuki (with aleix), gets some good results even a win and a couple podiums and after two years moves to yamaha in 2017 after coming 4th in the championship im 2016

3. he fucking wins his first two races with yamaha, talk about an entry to a team. oh and his teammate was valentino rossi. enough said.

4. mav having a grand time at yamaha, finishing 3rd and 4th and 3rd again (2017,18,19) in the championship. then shit starts going downwards.

5. in 2019, fabio arrives on the motogp stage with the petronas yamaha. he has an amazing first season, getting like 7 podiums and finishing 5th overall.

6. 2020 (ooh getting spicy) so there's a lot of very friendly interactions between mav and fabio from this time, it really seems like they were good buddies, n then preparing to be teammates in 2021, being excited about it!! looking at results tho - even though fabio only finished 8th that year, he won three races, meanwhile mav got one win plus two second places - both behind fabio...

7. so going into 2021 the situation is basically - fabio, boy wonder replacing motogp legend and maverick - not quite being able to fulfill the potential ppl said he had, getting this new teammate, a fast young guy - [threatening music starts playing]

7. and then the season starts off not too bad for mav with a win but after that - forget it. mav getting worse, fab winning and winning and winning. mav starts thinking yamaha have clearly moved on from him and are backing fabio, casting him aside a bit (in his perception, I can't really speak on what really happened I simply wasn't present in the fandom and I've not dove that deep yet), and then ofc it culminates in the whole debacle with mav just having enough of the frustration and doing sth rash, leading to the yamaha fallout and him leaving the team - well being fired really - and going to aprilia

8. as far as I know, it wasn't this alone that broke mavio? I think fabio said sth to the effect of he doesn't really care about mav leaving the team, and then there's a mav quote I think of him saying he's surprised to hear that from fabio

9. and then ofc there's fabio on that podcast this year answering the question "who's the rider you have the worst relationship with" with maverick.

IN CONCLUSION I think a culmination of fabio riding high on success, mav spiraling and lashing out, all that lead to the sorta icy relationship they have now....*sob*

anyway at the bottom of this I gotta add these tags from vic @distinguishedfifty to lighten the mood bc I simply love them uwkfjfkd

if any motogp mutuals have more to add here or maybe wanna correct me on things pls feel free!!

[scrollonso]

Heaven

A marcmarc fluff oneshot (1.7k words)

Pecco had won, and despite Bez finishing eighth, seeing his best friend on the top step of the podium washed away all his disappointment. Seeing his boyfriend smiling so brightly with his brother standing just one step below probably helped too. Bez couldn't help but shift his focus from Pecco to the Spaniard beside him, he looked perfect up there.

A few hours had passed since the podium celebration, and now Bez was heading out to celebrate the way he liked best, with alcohol and the rest of the academy. As soon as he entered the bar, Pecco greeted him with a bright smile. They hugged without hesitation.

"Feeling good, amo?" Bez grinned at his friend, who nodded, still on cloud nine from his earlier win.

"Andavi fortissimo," Bez praised. It was true, Pecco had been incredibly fast, beating Marc was a big deal, especially to Vale's boys.

They made their way through the building, joining the others and striking up conversations.

It didn't take long for Bez to get drunk, becoming more giggly than usual as he clung to anyone who got too close.

Cele was the closest, not minding the arms wrapped around him as he continued to drink, far less drunk than the curly-haired boy attached to his hip. Everything was funnier to Bez in this state, whether it was Vale coughing or a girl coming over to hit on one of them, he couldn't stop the giggles that followed.

As the night went on, the bar became livelier. Bez's laughter filled the room. Cele, amused by his friend's antics, tried to keep Bez upright as they navigated through the crowd.

"Hey, Bez, maybe slow down a bit," Cele suggested, chuckling as Bez nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Wowww" Bez groaned, his words slurring slightly. "Are you making fun of me for getting eigth"

"Oh shut up" Cele rolled his eyes, pushing him into a seat in a quieter area of the bar, not wanting him to get too drunk. The last thing he wanted to do was be on "Babysit Bez" duty.

Pecco joined them, a drink in hand and a wide grin on his face. "Looks like someone's having a good time," he teased, hand patting the back of Bez's head.

Bez frowned up at him. "Cele's making fun of me, this isn't fun anymore" The trio knew he was just being dramatic, this is how it went for Bez. Clingy, overdramatic, then sad.

Bez leaned heavily against Cele, his head resting on his shoulder. Cele's arm wrapped around Bez's shoulders, keeping him steady.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" Pecco asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Training," Cele replied, rolling his eyes. "Break just started and I can't even enjoy it yet."

Bez groaned dramatically as if he was the one scheduled to train, he had a week until his turn. "Do we have to? Can't we just stay here and drink forever?"

Pecco laughed. "Don't think you need any more to drink ever."

The night continued with stories, laughter, and more drinks, to Pecco's dismay. Eventually, Bez's energy began to wane. Cele noticed and leaned closer, having to speak louder into his ear to make his voice clear over the music.

"You okay?" Cele asked, concern in his eyes.

Bez nodded, though his eyelids were drooping. "Just tired," he mumbled.

Pecco sat down beside him. "Maybe it's time to call it a night. You've had enough fun for one evening." Bez sighed but didn't argue.

With Cele's help, Bez managed to stand up. Pecco took his other side, and together they guided him out of the bar. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the stuffy bar, and Bez took a deep breath, feeling a bit more alert.

"Thanks," Bez said, his voice soft. "You guys are so nice to me."

"Of course," Cele replied, smiling.

As they walked back to their hotel, the streets quiet and empty, Bez began to perk up at the thought of seeing Rubik. When they finally reached the hotel and made their way to Bez's room, they were greeted by an enthusiastic dog, who immediately bounded over, tail wagging furiously.

"Hey, buddy," Bez mumbled, kneeling down to cup Rubik's face, kissing all over the dogs fur. His excitement was contagious, and Bez's tired eyes lit up.

"Looks like someone missed you," Cele said with a smile, watching the joyful reunion, no matter how long the two were apart it was always like this when they came back together.

Pecco gave Bez a quick hug once he finally let go of the Pitbull, "Sleep well, Bez. We'll see you in the morning?"

Bez nodded, having no plan of falling asleep as he fell onto his bed, Rubik settling down beside Bez as he pulled his phone from his back pocket to call Marc.

The phone rang a few times before he heard a familiar voice on the other line, curls falling back as he rolled onto his back. "Cucciolo, where are you?"

"I'm on the way to my hotel, is everything okay mi cielo?" Marc asked, picking up on Bez's drunken state just by the way he spoke

"Come to mine?" He asked, slightly whining as he thought about being alone, now he was sad.

"Okay, I'll be there soon Marco" He confirmed before hanging up, he was about a 10 minute drive from Bez's hotel.

Bez waited impatiently, the Spaniard couldn't get there soon enough. He pulled Rubik closer, muttering in Italian about his boyfriend. Where was he? Was he close? Was he not coming? Did Marc not want to see him?

It was silly, really, Marc adored being with Bez, he was happiest with the Italian in his arms and Bez was well aware of that, Marc made sure to vocalize his feelings whenever he could so there was no need for him to get so worked up over this, though the alcohol wasn't working in his favour.

Having a dog like Rubik was great when Bez was alone, he could be as clingy as he wanted to the pitbull and he never cared, more than happy to be smothered by the racer.

Time passed by slow for both of them, Marc eager to get out of his car and hurry inside, knowing exactly where to go to find Bez's room, it was easier when they were staying in motorhomes by the track but because the two were staying in Germany a little longer than the others their managers made sure to book them hotels instead.

He soon reached the boys door, knocking three quick times before stepping back to wait for the door to swing open.

Like clockwork both Bez and Rubik shot up, greeting Marc with smiles on their faces. Before the Spaniard could even speak the Italians arms were wrapped around his shoulders, light kisses being pressed on the side of his face as he was pulled back into the room

"Hi, cielo, hi" Marc laughed, leaning into the touch as Rubik waited impatiently for some attention to be on him, too.

"I missed you so much" Bez confessed between kisses, pulling back to look at Marc, "missed your face."

He couldn't stop his lips from curling up as he looked at Bez, eyes shining as he examined his boyfriends face. Cheeks still flushed red from his activities earlier in the night, curls now frizzy from laying on his back while waiting.

"Did you have fun? You celebrated with Pecco, no?" Marc asked, looking away to give Rubik what he wanted, nice scratches under his jaw

Bez hummed, cheeks hurting because of the smile stuck on his face, he loved seeing Rubik and Marc together, his two favourite boys getting along. "Yeah, everyone went to a bar together, drank too much"

"You always drink too much" He responded playfully, laughing at the expression on Bez's face, he knew it was true but he'd never admit it.

It wasn't long before they ended up laying down together, Rubik curled up on Marc's left, Bez on his right with his head on his chest as if he wasn't nearly 10 centimeters taller than him. To them it didn't matter, this is how it went. Marc always made sure Bez knew he was his, his baby, his heaven, his Marco.

Marc's hand found its way into the Italians hair, nails softly scratching Bez's hair. He hummed contently, eyes closing as he focused on the feeling, something so comforting about the position they were in, they'd stay like this forever if they could.

The room was filled with a quiet sense of peace as they lay together. Bez's breathing started to even out, and Marc could feel the tension melt away from his boyfriend's body. Rubik snuggled closer to Marc's side, his warmth adding to the cozy atmosphere.

Marc softly whispered, "Te amo, Marco."

"Ti amo, Marc," Bez murmured back, a sleepy smile on his face. He felt completely at ease, surrounded by the two people he loved most.

After a few moments of silence, Bez spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for coming, amore."

Marc pressed a gentle kiss to Bez's forehead. "I'll always come to you. You know that."

Bez nodded, feeling his eyes grow heavier. He clung to the comfort of Marc's presence and Rubik's warmth. It was moments like these that made having to keep this a secret worth it. He was loved, cherished, and supported, and he knew that.

As the night deepened, Marc continued to run his fingers through Bez's hair, humming quietly as he gazed lovingly, Marc could look at him forever. Bez's breathing became slow and rhythmic, signaling that he had finally fallen asleep. Marc glanced down at him, his heart swelling with affection.

"Sleep well," Marc whispered.

The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of their breathing and the occasional snuffle from Rubik. The chaos of the day had faded, leaving only the serenity of the night. Marc stayed awake a little longer, savoring the moment and the sense of completeness it brought him.

Eventually, he too closed his eyes, letting sleep take over. Tomorrow could wait. For now, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

[scrollonso]

more thoughts on boypussy! bez?

pleaseeeeeeeee

hi anon!! 😽 so i was gonna write more headcanons but instead... marcmarc smut?? luca, pecco, and cele are mentioned two times i think? 😸

Marco usually isn't this careless. Or easy. Or both. But something he's noticed when it comes to Marc is that none of that actually matters.

Because half of the time he's with Marc, he's either teasing him, making him cook for him, or having his tongue halfway down his throat.

Marc is honestly as easy to get to as Marco is. It's probably why they work best together.

Not that the other riders don't work well with Marco or they don't treat him just as good or even better than Marc does, but something about knowing that the person he's with is equally on his wit's end just drives him haywire.

It's what's happening now, with Marc's hand halfway down the front of his pants, hand too eager to pull down the sweatpants he's wearing for easier access. He's instead stretching the front of the pants as his hand makes its way into Marco's panties and his palm cups him.

"You're all wet," he says breathlessly, his mouth sucking a spot into Marco's neck, the Italian could cum from just that if he had Marc's permission. "Your pussy is so wet, amor. It's so ready for my cock."

The younger man has his neck bared for Marc, head thrown back, his mouth parted open on a whine when Marc's palm makes contact with his clit. Marc rubs his finger around Marco's cunt, spreading the wetness all over, making sure his hand is coated with the wetness.

He loves Marco's pussy. It's always nice and wet. Whether or not someone has fucked him earlier, Marc revels in the thought of sliding into him, the slide sure to be sloppy and hot.

He's so sensitive, his body twitching with every flick that Marc now gives to his clit. He rubs it around distractedly, eyes simply on Marco's face, he's wondering how Marco could be so pretty in the light of the room like this. How his neck looks so much better now that there's a mark or two, telling the riders and staff that he's just been fucked when they walk out of the older mans motorhome..

The words that he thinks off dissipate before they come out of his mouth and he's left licking his bottom lip over and over to keep it from drying out.

He's so delirious with pleasure and Marc isn't even touching him in the way that he wants. Marc knows that. He knows that Marco needs at least three fingers scissoring inside him for him to be ready to take him easily. Now he's only got two in, stroking them in and out of him at a steady pace.

This is why Marco likes being with Marc. Or is it the other way round? Either way, this is why Marco had snuck out of the VR46 garage the moment they concluded debriefing and had pulled Marc, who was next door, along with him.

Marc had stared up at him from where he was sat on the large couch in the room and Marco had smirked, moving closer to him until his shins made contact with Marc's knees.

"Why are we here?" Marc asked, no other reason to it than the way Marco goes pink in the face, eyes avoiding him when he mumbles an answer under his breath. "I can't hear you, ricitos."

"I said I want you to fuck me," Marco said, still not looking at Marc but his voice was louder and it wasn't as timid sounding as it was earlier.

"Right now?," he said with a tilt of his head. "You know Valentino is probably wondering where you've gone?"

"Don't talk about him right now," Marco barked, he hated wheh Marc brought up Vale, especially knowing their history. Marc was his now.

It only took Marc one look from Marco, eyes wide and shiny, a purposeful bite of his lips and he opened his arms wide, patting his lap and welcoming the taller mans body on his.

Marco had straddled Marc, each thigh on either side of him. Marco feels smaller like this and it turns him on so much that he can't help grinding down against the front of Marc's pants.

They are soft and cotton and leave nothing to the imagination or feeling. Marco has always loved how big Marc was. It was an amazing compliment to his body; all tan muscles and hard skin. It was also a beautiful contrast to Marco's; lean, milky, soft in all the right places.

The feeling of Marc's hard-on under his ass makes Marco groan low in his throat. Alongside the way Marc keeps staring at him, watching his reactions as he twists his hand just right, finger pads pressing up against that sweet sweet spot, Marco feels the telltale feeling of his orgasm building up.

And that can't happen without Marc's cock inside him so Marco uses all the strength inside his body to push at his hand until the man gets the memo and pulls away.

"Did you bring a condom?" He asks, pulling out his hand, now wet with the juices from Marco's pussy.

Marco shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. Marc stares even harder. If there was an award for being the most beautiful person in motorsports, he's sure Marco would take it without a beat.

He's always been enticed by how one person could carry such an air of confidence alongside such dazzling beauty, making him the center of attention wherever he went.

It's why he's always shocked when Marco comes to him with a pout on his mouth, asking him to,

"Please fuck me, amore," or "Do you think you could eat me out instead tonight?"

And by far, Marc's favorite,

"I wanna ride you,"

He knows Marco fucks around with other riders too. Hell, he does too. But something always tells him that he and Marco have a great streak going with the amount of times Marc has had to change his sheets during the summer break.

It's nothing to be proud of but he feels pride in knowing that he's one of the small amount of people that get to see Marco cry tears as he's filled up with cock or the way Marco holds on to Marc's biceps when he's about to come, his eyes shut, mouth open, head thrown back as he makes the most pornstar sounding moan Marc has ever heard.

And Marc's heard a lot.

The academy riders often talk about what Marco is like in bed. Marc, who couldn't stop himself from listening in, has come to find that Marco is completely different with every rider he's with.

He's softer and more sweet when it's Pecco fucking him stupid. He likes the way Luca kisses him in between thrusts. He's a little controlling when it comes to Cele, too, likes to tell him what to do because the younger man is just clueless like that most of the time.

But still, no one matches up to the way he and Marc fuck. And Marc likes that. Likes that he's the only one that say things to Marco like " my pretty slut," "you're such a whore," and get away with it.

He likes that Marco lets him take full reigns when they're in bed. He loves that Marco trusts him with his pleasure.

Hearing how the academy riders talk is how he'd found out one thing he and Marco have never talked about or addressed. He's noticed it to be a consistent mention from everyone he'd listened to — well everyone he knows that has fucked Marco.

"Amore," he says, blinking up slowly at Marco. The man looks dazed, sweating despite the air conditioning in the room.

"Hm?" He hums, looking down at Marco with sultry eyes that only makes Marc's cock jump in its confines. He's sure Marco felt it, with the way he grinds back down on the appendage.

Slowly, gauging his reaction, searching his face for any disagreement, Marc's hand that isn't splayed on Marco's back lifts the front of his shirt.

He heard it from Luca, Pecco had said it in passing and Cele mentioned it a lot. So naturally, Marc was genuinely curious to see how it would change anything that they were already used to doing.

"Bez gets crazy wet when you fondle his tits,"

"They're not tits, Cele," Luca had said. "He's not a girl."

"He likes to call them tits too," Pecco had butted in. "Told me to call him principessa one time even."

Marc shook his head. Pecco had always been Marco's favorite. He gets too many privileges.

He gently pulls up the shirt until it's bunched up under Marco's chin and the man takes notice with a shuddering breath to hold the fabric with his chin.

When Marc looks away from his eyes to stare down at his chest, he silently curses and lets his nose make contact with the skin first.

Marco's chest is so pretty. Marc usually doesn't pay it much mind but now he's staring. Freckles are littered across his chest, nine prominent dark spots on just his pecs. The man's nipples are so soft and puffy, dark against his pale skin. They look almost swollen, practically begging him to have a taste.

Marc's own nipples aren't as sensitive as he would like them. He knows very well that some people have the ability to come from just their nipples being toyed with and from what he's heard from Pecco, the same could be said for Marco.

He didn't even know he was this much into nipples until the others mentioned it. Or maybe he's just into Marco. That would make absolute sense too.

Marc rubs his nose all over the areola, careful to avoid the metal and actual bundle of nerves. Marco's heart is beating so hard behind his ribs and Marc can feel it. The man is already shuddering and his body is trembling and he'd fall over if not for Marc's hand that's holding him at his back.

"Mar..", Marco says with a sigh when Marc finally gives a lick to his nipple.

Marc feels on fire when his mouth closes fully around the bud and he gives it an experimental suck. The reaction is instant.

Marco moans high in his throat, his back arching and therefore pushing his chest more into Marc. If no one knew they were here before, now they will, with how high Marco is moaning.

His hands are at Marc's shoulders, trying to push him away but at the same time still holding him close.

He can feel Marco moaning and shaking with every suck he gives to his chest. He didn't even know the man could get like this and he was so sure he'd seen every version of debauched Marco.

Marco keeps making these little sounds and noises. He's sighing out at one point and then making short moans with every suck Marc gives to his chest.

He switches nipples when he feels he's sucked enough on the other and opens his eyes to look up at Marco. The man isn't looking at him, which Marc expected with how much writhing he's doing. He can't sit still, his hips rolling forward so his pussy rubs down on Marc's cock to give them both a delicious friction.

Marc didn't think sucking on Marco's chest would make him this delusional. Suddenly he's thinking of Marco pumped full of come, ready to have baby in nine months. It could be a reality, Marco's body can take it. His body is able to take a child and Marc desperately wants it to be his.

He pulls off the nipple to speak, letting his hand twirl the hardened buds around.

"Amore, you've got such pretty tits," he says, voice breathy. He's looking at Marco as the man tries to keep his moaning at bay. He's failing. "They're so soft, could do this all night."

"Ah.. Amo.. Marc please.." Marco finally looks down at the older man to say. "Please fuck me. don' need prep jus.. fuck me, hm?"

Marc could laugh at the way Marco starts to rock back and forth on his lap, eyes shiny, lips bitten raw with how Marc's teeth don't leave it alone.

"No, I still need to finger you," Marc argues, going back in to suck a nipple into his mouth. He can't get enough of Marco's soft chest. He mentally curses himself for not paying it much attention now.

"I.. I-I.. Maro fucked me earlier," he says with a small voice.

It makes Marc lift up, chin on the lower part of Marco's chest while his mouth remains attached to the nipple there, tongue coming out to lave at it.

"See what I said? Such a cockslut, you are," he says again, his lips attached to Marco's tit. "It's no wonder you were so wet."

"Yeah yeah so just fuck me right now," he says, nodding.

Marco's fingers tangle in Marc's hair, pulling the strands to get Marc off of his chest. He's really so sensitive and it would be a shame if he didn't get fucked and came just from his nipples being sucked.

It's why he'd never mentioned it to Marc, knowing fully well that the other man would definitely take advantage of it and use it to make Marco keen in any given instance.

He's always been wary of how sensitive his chest was. It's why he doesn't let anyone get too close to touch him there. Just the mere brush of hands against it makes his knees keel and a few minutes later will find him stuffed full of cock to get off.

"Are you clean?" Marc asks him as Marco gets off his lap to take off his sweatpants. "Leave the shirt on."

He forgoes taking off the shirt as he flings the sweatpants to the side of the couch. Marc watches on as Marco's shirt presses against his chest and he can see the vivid outline of his tits. They're wet with spit and Marc loves the way they're still puffy and swollen, perfect. It's what makes him mumble a " fuck " as he too pulls down his cotton pants until they're pooled at his ankles, freeing his cock.

"Of course, I've only fucked the other academy riders," he says, getting back on Marc's lap. He watches, entranced as Marc strokes his cock to full hardness.

Marco's mouth waters with how much he wants to sink to his knees and try to take Marc to the hilt. Marc hardly ever fits in his mouth but he always tries his best, if to get praised like the attention whore he is.

"So you want me to fuck you raw?" Marc asks just to be sure. Even as Marco is already moaning, his fingers rubbing his pussy and stretching it open, almost like an invitation for Marc to be inside him.

"Yeah. Sì.. please.."

Marc is not one for going back and forth over something so he doesn't. Instead, he sets his hand on Marco's waist and pulls him closer to him. "Do you want to be on your back?"

"Anywhere, please," Marco isn't usually this obedient.

Marc fixes their position so Marco is laid on his back on the couch and Marc's large body is hovering over him. The position is so boring and made specifically for people who fuck just for the sake of procreation but maybe that's what Marc wants to do.

Maybe this is the position that would finally get Marco's body to take. It's not often that they fuck raw and he's sure it's the same with the other members but Marc is excited to pump Marco full of his seed and wonder if he'll come to him with the news of a pregnancy, if his tits would grow a bit and get heavier. More sensitive.

The fantasy in his head is so hot and Marco is right there for the taking, pussy pulsing and soaked with how much he wants Marc too. Marc can't deny him anything, not when he too is on the verge of bursting.

He lifts one of Marco's legs with his hand and pushes the under of his knee back to expose more of his pussy to him.

The couch isn't the largest but it takes both of their bodies and comfortably lets Marc rest one of his legs on the couch while the other is bent at the knee.

"Come on, Marc, fuck me," Marco says, his hair splayed out around his head like a halo, just like the angel he claims to be. Marc has always been a sinner.

He takes his time despite Marco rocking his hips down closer to his cock but his hand on his hips are holding him still. Barely.

"Be patient," he says, his own voice cracking with the amount of resistance it's taking him to not pound into Marco, raw.

He tests the slide in by lining up his cock with his hole. The tip pops in with a squelch and they both moan when Marc fucks the tip in and out, teasing.

He pushes in some more, making sure he watches for the way Marco's mouth forms an o shape, a silent moan making its way out of him.

He's so small under Marc. Marc loves the allusion of a contrast between them. How he's composed (a lie) and trying his best not to hurt Marco while the younger man is writhing and trying to fit more of his length into him.

Marc's hand that's not holding up Marco's leg to his shoulder comes up to push his shirt up so his chest is exposed to the cool air of the room.

At the sight of Marco's tits, chest heaving, practically calling for him, Marc slides in all the way, his dick pulsing for a short second as he almost comes just from being inside Marco.

Marco is wet and hot around him just like he expected and it feels so good to be inside him without a barrier between them. It feels too good to be true. Marc has to breathe out through his mouth so he doesn't come prematurely like a hormonal teenager.

"Feel so full Marc.. you're so good.." Marco mumbles, sounding out of it as Marc begins to pull out and then thrust back into him.

It's slow and steady yet rushed and fast because Marc is already so close to the edge, tethering there for so long.

"Your pussy is so good, ricitos," he groans, head thrown back as he continues fucking into Marco, the couch shaking with the force of their movements.

Marco can only moan and keen high in his throat, eyes shut, mouth open. He's so breathtakingly beautiful and Marc feels the sudden urge to have him to himself.

He suddenly wants to pump him full of his seed, fuck him over and over again so his body takes. Make him his, put a ring on his finger. Or a collar on his neck. It's driving Marc crazy with wanton heat.

"Amore.. so good.. s'good.. harder please.. please," Marco says through his teeth. Marc has pride blooming in his chest. He made Marco, confident Marco, like this. Reduced to nothing but a babbling mess.

He gives it to him like he asks for it, pressing Marco's leg back down against him, stretching him to his full elasticity as he pounds into his cunt.

Marc uses the opportunity of being so close to Marco's chest to lean down and take a nipple into his mouth, licking over it with his tongue, loving the way Marco holds his head there as if to urge him on.

"Are you close? 'Cause 'm so fucking close," he whispers against Marco's skin. He looks up to see the man nodding, breathing harshly as his own body starts to tighten. " 'm gonna come inside you, Marco. You're gonna make me a baby. Okay? You think you can be a good mama and do that for me?"

"Oh my God.. fuck , Marc," Marco whines at that. "Please yes.. please come inside me. I'll be so good…please."

"Yeah? Want me to make you a mommy?" Marc groans, fucking into Marco with purpose.

"Please.. please yes.." Marco cries, his voice so loud that Marc is actually thankful for the thick walls and distance between the other riders motorhomes.

Marc curses and groans. Then he moves his head up and kisses Marco on the mouth, tongue swiping over his own tongue to lick into his mouth.

He bites down on his lower lips right as his back arches, his walls clenching down around Marc's cock, his body tightening right before it snaps and he gasps out when he finally comes.

Marc comes right after Marco's pussy pulses around him, practically milking him dry inside him.

"Oh my fuck," Marc mutters against Marco's lips, thrusting into him to ride out the rest of his orgasm. Marco is just so good around him. "God, you're so fucking hot."

"Mhm," is the only sound Marco makes, his eyes closed shut as he lets Marc kiss him stupid.

Marc chuckles to himself when he pulls out, his cock twitching in interest when he sees the way his come dribbles out of him.

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face when he lies between Marco's spread legs so his head rests comfortably on his tummy and his mouth closes around a soft nipple, loving the way Marco whines in oversensitivity and tries to push him away.

Marc is really gonna enjoy this newfound information.

[dickinfectionbez]

He shouldn't be messaging this number.

Valentino knew this, he should be focusing on his WEC career and on fixing whatever was going on with Bez and Diggia. But he couldn't help himself from talking to this stranger. Only one person before had made this warmth blossom in his chest, and that person was now racing against his academy.

It was freeing messaging the stranger. In their messages he wasn't a 9 time world championship, he wasn't the villain in the eyes of the Spanish and he wasn't the man who had it all and lost it.

Most of their messages were based on racing, avoiding the mention of Marc and Vale, focusing on riders like Dani, Jorge and Dovi. Neither of them probed into what the others life was like. They didn't need to know about each other. But one thing that bugged Valentino was the fact he didn't have a name to call this stranger by.

Vale: what should I call you then?

0367926-9368152: I don't know.

Valentino's phone remained silent for the next hour, he assumed he scared the person away. He left his phone on the counter, rushing back to it as it buzzed.

0367926-9368152: Cervera.

0367926-9368152: Call me Cervera.

Valentino's throat constricted. Marc came back to haunt him once again. Wasn't being in his dreams, his nightmares and on the top of his tongue enough? Must he now haunt the messages where Vale wasn't Valentino?

0367926-9368152: What should I call you?

Valentino ran a hand through his hair, patting his phone against his thigh. What would he call himself? His name, his home, his career all too well known to be a nickname. What would he tell the Marquez fan who nicknamed themselves after his hometown?

Vale: idk

0367926-9368152: Well tell me one thing you like.

Vale looked down not sure what to say. His tattoo peaked out his under the hem of his shirt.

Vale: turtles. I like turtle and racing.

0367926-9368152: Fine, I'll call you turtle.

Vale: that's not a cool name.

0367926-9368152: Too bad.

0367926-9368152: If you wanted a better name you should have thought of it Turtle.

Vale: I'll block you,

Vale: don't think I wont.

0367926-9368152: Say my name Turtle. I know you want toooo

Vale: goodbye Cervera.

Vale tucked his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, tapping where is tattoo was. A stupid smile on his face as he walked out to the track.

[scrollonso]

Blurb as a follow-up to my tags on this post

I'm really not sure what it is... I had an idea 🤷‍♀️ (like 600 words)

Bez had always idolized Valentino. To him, Vale wasn’t just a mentor or a champion rider, he was a god, a beacon of everything Bez aspired to be. Every time he saw Vale on track, his heart swelled with admiration and longing. He yearned for Vale’s attention, his praise, his mentorship. His devotion was almost canine in its intensity. Loyal, eager, and desperate for any crumb of affection or acknowledgment.

For years, he basked in the glow of Vale's guidance. He worked tirelessly, always hoping to catch that approving glance, the pat on the back that would signify he was on the right path. However, as Pecco began to rise through the ranks of MotoGP with remarkable success, Vale’s focus naturally shifted towards his new star.

Bez watched from the shadows, feeling a cold, creeping emptiness settle in his chest. The camaraderie he once felt with Vale seemed distant, replaced by an aching void. Pecco’s victories were celebrated with enthusiasm and pride, leaving Bez feeling like a forgotten relic, a has-been in the making.

In his desperation, he began seeking validation elsewhere. He needed someone to fill the void left by Vale's waning attention, someone who could make him feel worthy again. It was then that Marc began to take an interest in him. Bez knew the history between Vale and Marc, the legendary on-track battles, the messy breakup that was as much about personal betrayals as professional rivalries. But Marc’s sudden interest was intoxicating, a heady mix of danger and promise.

Marc was cunning, his approach subtle yet manipulative. He saw the cracks in Bez's armor, the vulnerability that Vale’s neglect had created. Marc began to weave a web of psychological and emotional entanglement, playing on his fears and insecurities. He would drop hints, little seeds of doubt about Vale’s loyalty and intentions, making Bez question everything he had once believed.

“Valentino has moved on, Marco,” Marc would say in his smooth, persuasive tone. “He’s focused on Francesco now. You deserve someone who sees your worth, who can bring out the best in you.”

Bez, starved for the validation he had once received from Vale, began to fall under Marc's spell. The rival’s words were a balm to his wounded pride, a lifeline he clung to in his darkest moments. Marc was always there, whispering reassurances, promising to be the mentor Bez needed, the guide who wouldn’t abandon him for the next rising star.

In his heart, he still revered Vale, but the seed of doubt had been planted. He found himself torn between the god he had worshipped for so long and the devil whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Marc's psychosexual tactics were working, slowly but surely pulling Bez into his orbit. The boy’s desire for validation, for someone to believe in him, was leading him down a path he never thought he would tread, away from Valentino and towards the man who had once been his god’s greatest enemy. The serpent of the academy's religon.

Marc’s grip on him tightened, the lines between mentor, rival, and something more sinister blurring with each passing day. Bez could feel himself changing, the desperation transforming into a darker kind of loyalty. He was becoming Marc’s, not by choice, but by a twisted game of manipulation and desire. And as he fell deeper under Marc’s influence, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what he truly wanted, or if he was just a pawn in a game between two legends, destined to lose no matter which side he chose.

[moonshynecybin]

Okay but what is vale’s reaction to the motogp Instagram account posting that in the forced coming out au. Internally I mean. Does he do his best to ignore it? Is he so deep in denial that he’s patting himself on the back for being a good actor? What narrative is he building in his head?

coming down on jorge lorenzo (decidedly winning the idgaf war in all years) sending it to him and vale externally commenting two little love hearts and @ ing marc's insta publicly BUT also internally being like. im gonna have to run away to some uninhabited island in the mediterranean and live in exile like napoleon this sucks so bad

[dickinfectionbez]

Marc sat at the kitchen table, wringing his hands. Vale told Pecco everything about the couple getting back together and the boy seemed happy enough.

But when they were alone all Marc could feel was guilt. The heartbroken look on Pecco's face that day still burned behind his eyelids. He tore the innocence from his baby and now he sat across from an independent teenager. Marc looked at Pecco, studying the scar on his hand. When did he grow up so much? 'Obviously you missed out on a lot when you rejected him and refused to even be in the same room as him and his father' a voice whispered in Marc's mind.

Marc coughed, clearing his throat. "When did you get that?" He asked, nodding at Pecco's hand where a thin scar ran across his palm. Pecco outstretched his hand, resting it a few centimetres away from Marc's . "Bez and I were hiding from Franky and got caught on some wire." Marc nodded, not sure who Bez and Franky were. "Bez and Franky your friends?" He asked, taken aback when Pecco looked up at him with a mixture of anger, aggression and upset in his eyes.

"You don't have to pretend you know that Marc." Marc's heart panged at Pecco not calling him papa. When was the last time he called him papa? "I know you don't like me but you don't have to pretend. There are no cameras and I don't care." Marc wanted to scream and shout. He wanted to grab Pecco by the shoulders and shake him. He wanted to go back in time and never hurt his boy. But he stayed silent, watching Pecco huff. "I'm going out." He stated, standing up from his chair and walking to the door to put his shoes on. "I do care mi Cariño." Marc said, looking at the wall, his voice cracking. Pecco said nothing, instead slamming the door after himself.

Pecco marched to a secluded corner of the ranch, climbing into a hiding place he made years ago. It was a shallow tunnel he had dug out using a shovel he was gifted years ago. He had made a makeshift roof using an old IKEA bag that was cut to lay flat. His head hit the makeshift roof and his legs were cramped, knees tucked under his chest. Hot tears flowed down his face as he just sat there and cried. His dad would be back in a few days and then he'd be able to go visit his grandparents before he had to start training again.

He hid in his little hole for a few hours, watching the sunset. He planned to fall asleep in the hole but the rain started to beat down heavily, water flooding in. Pecco shivered but stayed in the hole until the roof collapsed under the weight of the rain, soaking him. He closed his eyes accepting that he was going to be wet and miserable.

The rain stopped, or so he had thought. Marc stood above him, out of breath and an umbrella in his arms. His face was blotchy and red. Pecco contemplated being stubborn and staying put, but the idea of lying down his warm bed was too tempting. He stood up, walking beside Marc who held the unbrella above Pecco, letting himself get wet. They got inside the house and Pecco marched into his room, stripping out of his wet clothes and into dry ones before climbing into bed.

Pecco woke up in the middle of the night in pain. His head pulsed and he felt as if he was burning up. He called out for his dad, for his uncle or anyone in desperation. Marc burst into his room, worry flooding his face as he saw Pecco lying there whining in pain. He rested his hand on his forehead, hissing as he felt the heat. Marc left the room, returning with a bowl of cold water, a face towel and some Vicks. "Papa?" Pecco questioned as Marc patted the cold towel on his forehead. Marc hummed, all his focus on his boy. Pecco fell asleep soon afterwards, Marc still sat on the edge of his bed not daring to sleep.

Pecco woke up the next day, his head still throbbing but feeling less feverish. Marc dipped the towel back inside the bowl, placing it back on his head. "How do you feel?" He asked, wiping some Vicks onto Pecco's chest, forehead and under his nose. "Shit." He answered, Marc chuckled. "If you weren't ill I'd have to lecture you on your language."

Marc brushed the curls out of his eyes. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm sorry about everything. I know you think I don't care but I do. I never stopped caring mi cariño. You're my son. You've always been my son, even when I was an asshole and told you weren't." Pecco let out a weak laugh, a few tears spilling out his eyes. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. I know you can't, but I ask for you to give me the opportunity. I've missed out on so much and don't want to miss anymore." Pecco nodded as Marc wiped the tears from Pecco's face and then wiped his own. He pulled his son into a hug, the pair crying together for a while, Pecco falling asleep in his arms as he used to as a baby.

Pecco woke up to his papa holding a tray of food and medicine.

[dickinfectionbez]

"Its fake." Vale said to no-one in particular. "The telemetry data, it's fake. Always was. I didn't know it before, but it's fake. I was the one who faked it."

Marc stared at him in disbelief. Valentino had not uttered a word to him in years, basically ignoring that he existed and now he was admitting that the reason they fell out was fake? Even worse, he was the one who apparently had unwilling faked it.

Bez stood with his mouth agape. He had spent years nursing a grudge with a man who did nothing to him. He followed Vale with the loyalty of a dog and he was in the wrong. He was cold to Marc for no valid reason except for Vale being cold to him. Bez wasn't one for blameless hatered. It was something he hated with a passion and yet he stood there, a hypocrite himself. Celin wrapped his arm around Bez's bicep, grounding him. He could sense the internal war that was going on inside his head.

Marc step forward towards Vale, a hand up in the air. Vale leaned forwards, waiting for Marc to cup his cheek as he used to when they were young. But they weren't young anymore. Marc slapped Vale across the cheek, hard. Celin and Bez flinched at the sound, nobody expecting Marc to hit Vale. Marc shook slightly, angry tears escaping his eyes. "I spent years, years Valentino suffering because of that data. I lost you and I had to endure so much because of you and for what? Data you faked? Fuck you." Marc spun on his heels and left the room.

The trio stood frozen in their places. Marc's handprint an angry red outline on Valentino's face. "I can explain." Vale said weakly as Bez left the room. Cele looked at Valentino, trying to find something in his eyes that would make everything okay. "I send the fake data to Uccio. I thought the blip was Marc and I. We hadn't fallen out yet and I needed to make it happen. I didn't know that I was the reason." Celin scratched his chin, watching Valentino look down in shame. Celestino closed the gap between them, patting Vale's back and they stood in silence.

Bez marched out the room with a mission. He found Marc hidden perched up on a ledge away from the bustle of the paddock. He climbed up, sitting next to him. "I'm sorry." Bez told Marc, looking at the track. "I'm sorry for the way I've treat you." Marc tapped his pinky against Bez's "it's alright. This needed to happen anyways. Vale and I were the blip. We needed to fall apart to keep our future." Bez shook his head, "No. You both are not the blip. You're fallout was not the cause of the blip. It's something much bigger."

They heard chattering coming from beneath them, the pair looked down to see a young Luca chatting with some of his support staff. "We should go back to the hotel. Celin can explain everything." Bez said hopping down and extending a hand to Marc. Marc accepted, the pair rushing back to Celin, ready to fix their future.