#when i first found out about pierre gasly i was like ‘okay first time I’ve ever liked facial hair’

[httpiastri]

osc has like a little scruff and mustache going on you can barely see it but its in the sim session video on mclarens insta 😵‍💫-💪

NO BESTIE THIS IS SCARY because i was genuinely literally cropping these pics just as i saw your ask….. he’s actually so attractive pls 😭😭 it’s just barely there but it’s lovely

(also had to crop some other screenshots because… i love shots of his back & the neck from behind 😵 plus obvs the hands and arms….. help)

also this 🥲 could be my new lockscreen, he’s so cute wth

[leclerc-s]

i did something bad - part three

FERRARI MULTI-34

masterlist//previous//next

ABU DHABI 2023

daniel ricciardo PARTY FOR CHECO AFTER THE RACE!!

charles leclerc it's thursday, the race isn't until sunday.

daniel ricciardo i'm planning ahead, checo, we still expect you at races once you leave us.

sergio perez i will try my best to be at races, but no promises.

alex albon AFTER THIS WEEK MY MAN IS FREE!! WAR IS OVER!!

pierre gasly IT'S TIME TO REJOICE!!

charles leclerc i think you two are being dramatic

teagan horner DOUBLE PARTY! ONE ON MONDAY, ONE ON SUNDAY! HE'S FREE!! CHECO WE'RE GONNA MISS YOU!!!

charles leclerc yup, you're all being too dramatic.

liam lawson the fia wants carlos dead. have any of you looked at the press schedule for this week?

daniel ricciardo what were they thinking putting him in same room as charles and max?

teagan horner that one of them is going to snap and get fined and dsq'd for the race this week?

mark webber if it comes down to it, pull a seb, multi-21 style

sebastian vettel oh for fucks sake mark

logan sargeant does anyone know why alex keeps shouting 'war is over' at the top of his lungs? i would like to sleep a few more hours, it's 6am.

max verstappen no clue charles leclerc no idea daniel ricciardo i haven't got a clue pierre gasly isn't alex always doing weird shit? sergio perez i've given up questioning why most of you do half the things you do yuki tsunoda ask george

george russell all of you are acting weird, what do you know?

pierre gasly aren't you basically dating alex? you should know.

george russell first of all, fuck you. second of all, i have a girlfriend. third of all, i don't know why alex does everything he does.

alex albon WAAARRR IIIISSS OVEERR!!!! THE SHACKLES HAVE BEEN BROKEN! THIS IS THE PART WHEN I BREAK FREE!

daniel ricciardo ALEX! HAVE SOME DECENCY MAN!

lewis hamilton i don't think we want to know

oscar piastri this is too much for a thursday morning at 6am. why are any of you up?

pierre gasly scheming with yuki

esteban ocon regretting ever becoming an f1 driver.

fernando alonso GO BACK TO SLEEP YOU BABOONS!!

lando norris sorry father

fernando alonso AND DON'T CALL ME THAT!

teaganhorner monthly dump

view all comments

username ma'am who's that man?

↳ username forget the man, look at the way they're celebrating checo!

username that one picture of max smiling at charles is hilarious, man was plotting world war 3.

maxverstappen1 did you have to include that picture? it’s from like 2020? where did you even find it?

↳ teaganhorner of course i did, people must see how in love you are with charles. i found it in the depths of my camera roll.

↳ landonorris #lestappeninlove #bewhoyouare

username gonna miss seeing checo in teagan's photo dumps

↳ teaganhorner i'm gonna miss checo in my dumps too!

landonorris but has the boyfriend met the dad yet?

↳ teaganhorner he has you know this lando

username teagan baby, what about us? what about everything everything we’ve been through?

username it’s okay guys, i’m their third, they just don’t know it yet.

username HE CARRIES HER SHOES FOR HER!!

gerogerussell63 since when do you have a boyfriend?

lewishamilton you have a boyfriend? why am i just finding out now?

oscarpiastri please tell alex to stop screaming ‘war is over’ it’s been happening periodically for the past 4 hours.

↳ username why the heck is alex screaming ‘war is over?’

↳ alex_albon THE SHACKLES HAVE BEEN BROKEN!

↳ landonorris alex, mate, we still don’t know what that means

danielricciardo wow, never thought i’d live to see teagan horner soft launch her bf

↳ teaganhorner oh shut up, you’ve known from the start

↳ pierregasly it’s been a year and you’re just now soft launching? my man deserves better

↳ georgerussell63 PIERRE KNEW? WHAT ABOUT ME? HOW DID HE KNOW BEFORE ME?! BEFORE LEWIS?!

↳ teaganhorner 😊😊

↳ alex_albon I’VE ALSO KNOWN!!!

↳ oscarpiastri lando spilled the beans one time so now i know.

username so only a few people know who mystery man is.

↳ username from what we’ve gathered, max, lando, oscar, daniel, alex, and pierre know.

↳ username there’s a common thread here and it’s red bull. except the mclaren boys.

¡leclerc-s speaks! it’s so easy to write for this story because i have so many ideas for it. i don’t think i established that every part is going to be a race or two each one. meaning, winter break incoming before we head to preseason testing and the bahrain gp. fret not people, checo is not 100% gone, he’s still going to be mentioned from time to time.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[danielxricciardo]

Winner

Summary: You met Pierre at the Brazilian Grand Prix and for 3 months you couldn't get in touch.

Warnings: fluff, like 2 swear words

Word count: 2.3k

This one was requested by @jugasly and I know it is not exactly what she wanted but I really tried and I hope you liked it!

Avenida Paulista's Boulevard catches the eye especially through the skyscrapers similar to those in the big North American cities. Brazil's most modern city has much to offer tourists around the world. The most beautiful museums in South America can be found here, the shore is furrowed with lots of sunny beaches. And its nightlife has attracted many tourists.

The largest city in South America makes New York look small. The buses make an unbearable noise and black smoke spreads over the upper floors of the skyscrapers which, through the heat that maintains it during the day, turn the city into a real hell.

I felt myself waking up but I was determined to keep my eyes closed for a little longer but in a few seconds I was awakened violently by the sound of car engines. That's what I deserve for booking the hotel next to the Formula 1 circuit.

You reluctantly got out of bed and went to the window. I saw how the Formula 1 cars are brought on the circuit and I look at my watch. Fuck, it was pre-qualification practice, did I really sleep that much? Honestly, I arrived in the room at 5 o'clock and at 6 I fell asleep so I shouldn't have been so surprised that I slept in.

I was in Brazil with my two best friends to watch a Formula 1 race live and we chose Brazil because we needed a good reason to leave Europe and visit South America for a week, right?

I woke up my friends and in less than half an hour we were leaving the hotel, running, with a big cup of coffee in our hand.

We passed quickly through the front gate, all we needed now was to find our seats.

All around us could be heard the cars speeding on the circuit. My skin was goosebumps and I was looking at my friends who had the same smile on their faces that I think I had.

We find our seats and watch the last 15 minutes of training. We held in our hands the tickets that gave us access to the paddock. We were going to go there after the drivers returned to the garages.

My eyes were searching for Aston Martin Hospitality. I knew that if I returned home from this Grand Prix without an autograph from Sebastian Vettel for my father, I could very well stay in Brazil for the rest of my life.

Being so focused on looking for the green building, I didn't realize that someone was coming in front of me only when I hit a hard chest. I heard my girlfriends gasping. Fuck, I just hope I didn't run into Toto Wolff.

I open my eyes slightly and see a driver's suit, white and blue. Alpha Tauri?

I look up at the driver's face. To be damned. Pierre Gasly. With ruffled hair and a red face, Pierre Gasly was in front of me.

"I'm really, really sorry, I didn't look where I was going. Sorry!" I say and take a step back, stepping out of his personal space.

As I walked away from him, I saw that he was not alone but with Pyry.

"It's okay, I wasn't looking where I was going either," he says, running his hand through his hair, trying to fix it.

I smile at them and then I look at my friends giggling at our embarrassing date.

Pyry motions to Pierre to someone behind me and that makes him take his eyes off me.

"Oh, I have to go," he tells me. "Have fun."

I stood still for a few moments, unable to move. I just met my favorite driver and it couldn't be more embarrassed than that.

"The first meeting with your children's future father was very good." my best friend, Lila, tells me.

"Shut up."

The fact that I found Aston Martin Hospitality and managed to get the autograph for my father and I could take a few pictures with Sebastian Vettel erased the embarrassment caused by the disastrous meeting I had with Pierre Gasly.

For a little time.

As soon as we got out of Aston Martin Hospitality Lila pulled us to McLaren Hospitality, hoping to meet Lando Norris and take some pictures with him, about 100, but who's counting, right?

I was with my head on the phone, sending my father some pictures I took with Sebastian Vettel when I came across someone, this time I lost my balance and I was about to fall but two strong arms caught me. Pierre Gasly, again.

"Honestly, we should stop meeting like this, you could get hurt," he says and laughs. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," I say and bite my lip. "I should really start looking where I'm going."

My friends secretly took pictures of us.

"It's the second time we've met in less than 10 minutes, maybe the universe wants to tell us something, don't you think?" he says and holds out his hand. "Pierre."

I hold out my hand and smile wide. "Y/N."

I turn my gaze to Lila and Erica, presenting them to Pierre as well.

"I hope you feel good in the paddock. So far, the world has been nice to you and your friends?"

"Yes, everything has been good so far. We've only been to Aston Martin and they've all been very nice to us. Except for a few people who don't look where they're going, we haven't had any unexpected events." I say and laugh.

Pierre starts laughing too.

"Yes, I will try to look after you from now on and avoid you. I don't want to be the reason you fall. Although, if something happens, I know the medical team and you don't need medical insurance here."

I asked Pierre if he wanted to take some pictures with me and he accepted immediately. At least that's what I can do after I've run into you twice already.

For the next few hours, Lila and Erica, and I walked from one Hospitality to another, looking for drivers. They were all very nice to us and agreed to pose with us.

When it was time to start qualifying, we went to the room provided by McLaren for guests to watch.

I followed Pierre's position in the standings, Lila followed Lando's position and Erica followed Max's position. All three of us breathed a sigh of relief when the three boys passed into Q3.

Lando will leave from the seventh position tomorrow.

Pierre will start from the fourth position.

Max will start from pole position.

The three of us went to the hotel, ready to rest well for the next day.

If the atmosphere for qualifying had seemed charged to me, then the atmosphere before the race could not be described.

Yesterday everyone was behaving nicely and they were smiling. Now everyone was running past everyone, there were many screams and many curses could be heard. And everyone was frowning, not a smile in sight.

We didn't see any drivers, so we headed to McLaren Hospitality to get comfortable for the race. I unwittingly was disappointed. I wanted to see Pierre before the race to wish him good luck.

Although I hadn't wished him good luck, Pierre was lucky. He finished the race in second place, behind Max Verstappen. I was very happy and I wanted to go and congratulate him as soon as possible.

I watched the award from the window, filming and taking pictures which I was sure I would cherish for a long time to come.

"Congratulations!" I scream when I see him and he looks at me. "It was a very good race, congratulations!"

"Thank you!" he says and smiles at me.

I asked my friends to take some pictures with the trophy and champagne and then Pierre left, being shouted by someone from the team.

"Stay here, I'd like to see you one more time before you have to leave."

I could die then and there when I heard his words. Pierre Gasly wanted to see me again.

It's just that it hasn't happened before. We stayed there for another two hours and Pierre could not be found. It was getting late and everyone was starting to leave, so we left.

Monza is the most important economic, industrial and administrative center of the Brianza sub-region, being the third-largest city in Lombardy, with a population of about 120,000 inhabitants. When people think of Monza, the first thing that comes to mind is the famous Formula 1 Grand Prix that is held here every year.

Although many may think that Milan eclipses this smaller city, Monza should not be dismissed, having an absolutely sublime historical architecture, such as the Cathedral and the Leoni Bridge, but also features the huge Parco di Monza and of course the famous Formula 1 Autodromo.

The historic center of Monza stretches over a large area and in this area, you can find most historical sites and a guided tour of the history of cities.

Three months have passed since the Brazilian Grand Prix.

Three months since I first saw Pierre Gasly.

Although I have pictures of the two of us, I can't help but regret the fact that I didn't see him then; I will probably never see him again.

The exams passed and to relax completely my father and I got tickets to the Italian Grand Prix.

What I didn't know was that my father had taken VIP tickets.

That means we're going to the paddock.

Does that mean I can meet Pierre?

I tried not to have too many hopes, in the end, there are thousands of people there, I can't meet him, can I?

I didn't meet him on Friday. It had been the two practice sessions, everyone was as relaxed as possible, my father took pictures with everyone he saw, but Pierre was nowhere to be seen.

On Saturday we were late and did not catch the practice, but we saw the qualifications. Pierre starts from the tenth position. To be honest, I didn't have high expectations for tomorrow's race for Pierre.

And man I was wrong about that.

The whole race I was speechless. I heard my father from lap 23 and to the end cursing the accident that took Charles Leclerc out of the race.

My eyes were only on car number 10. I had the impression that I was blinking only when the camera moved to another car. I forgot to breathe when I saw the overtaking he was doing.

But he won.

Pierre Gasly won in Monza. His first ever Formula One career win and it was my home race.

Before we went out in the paddock looking for Pierre, after the premiere, I wiped away the tears I didn't know I had.

It wasn't hard for me to find him. Where there were a lot of people screaming and chanting, he must have been there too.

And I was right. He is enjoying his first victory with the whole team. Everyone wanted to hug and congratulate him.

As if he noticed my presence among the hundreds of people who were there, Pierre looked at me. I noticed his face light up and he came towards me.

"Y/N!" he says and hugs me.

I'm sure my father was shocked somewhere in the back. I hadn't told him that I had met Pierre, but after this hug, I will definitely have to explain to him what the situation is.

"Congratulations!" I tell him and I smile broadly. "First victory! Wow!"

He shrugs nonchalantly.

"I was lucky."

I laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

"With Hamilton being penalized? You would have overtaken him without that penalty."

He looked into my eyes.

"I haven't found you after the race in Brazil."

The fact that he remembered had taken me by surprise. I was sure he couldn't remember the fact that he had proposed to me to stay on the circuit so that he could see me one more time.

I was sure that the second he left, he forgot what I looked like and forgot my name.

But no. He still knew me. He still knew my name and knew we had to see each other.

"I haven't seen you there before and I left after about two hours, it was getting late."

"I'm sorry, the teamwork had taken longer than I initially anticipated. When I went to look for you, no one was there. Then I realized I didn't even have your phone number. I tried to look for you on Instagram, but do you know how many girls are there with your name?"

I laughed.

"Well, I could give my phone number to the race winner now, if he wants it, of course. Do you think he would accept it?" you ask laughing.

Pierre blushes and bites his lip.

"I'm sure he would accept."

I take out of my bag the notebook and pen I was carrying with me to receive the drivers' autographs and write my phone number. I hand him the sheet just as Pierre is being taken by some engineers to the garage to celebrate the victory.

I laugh and wave at him.

I was at home with my father, watching a boring movie on Netflix. I've been looking at the phone constantly since last night, waiting for a message from Pierre but I haven't received anything.

"Ugh, this movie is so boring," I say and take my phone off the table. "Let me look for a more interesting one."

That's when I receive a message from a number I didn't save. I received a picture.

It was the picture with the prize Pierre received.

"The winner of the race has received your number and is wondering if you are free to dine with him."

I bit my lip, unable to control the smile on my face.

"If the winner of the race wants to go out on a date with me, who am I to say no?"

"8 o'clock?"

"I'll send you the address right away."

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 4

Masterlist

Thank you as always to my best friend and Beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit​ for putting up with me and my ramblings ♥

Word Count: 3.8k

Recommended song: "ily (I love you baby)" by Surf Mesa and Emilee

You'd never been more thankful that you kept a change of clothes in your car than you were after the race at Silverstone. You'd showered again, changing back into the sweaty tee and leggings. The clean emergency hoodie and jeans were a blessing, and casual enough for a night on the town.

Most of the crew had left, only a few poor souls pouring over race data or packing up essentials. James let you into the trailer yard this time without hesitation. "We really should just get you a key," He teases, "Sure would make my life easier."

Rolling your eyes, you give the tower of muscle a pitiful shove. He doesn't move an inch. "Thanks James. I'll ask Pierre to look into it."

A sudden wave of tiredness washes over you when you make it back to the trailer. You flip through the channels on the tiny television, settling on an analysis of the day’s race.

“And a brilliant drive from young Pierre Gasly, wasn’t it John?”

“I completely agree Martin. Gasly took advantage of every slip up by Mercedes and Red Bull and he has to be commended for that. Max made some rare mistakes and…”

You smile to yourself, their praise washing over you. Yawning, you curl up on Pierre's bed, the familiar smell of cedar lulling you into a light sleep in minutes.

**********

A gentle touch to your cheek wakes you some hours later. You crack your eyes open, greeted by a smile brighter than the stars in the night sky. You taste eternal sunshine on his lips when you kiss him, your soul sparking in response to his light.

"Good morning," He murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jaw. "Sleep well?"

You snuggle closer to him, eyes closing once more as you soak up the warmth. "Is it time to go out already?"

"It is. But we can stay here if you want to." He brushes a stray hair off your face. The gesture is so tender, if you didn’t know any better you’d never guess he could turn into the seasoned, take-no-shit racer you’d seen hours before. 

You shake your head. You couldn't let him miss out on celebrating his victory with his closest friends. Besides, you hadn't seen any of them for a span of time longer than a few minutes in months, and truth be told, you missed them all. 

Those boys had a knack for turning the simplest of outings into unforgettable adventures. You had been sworn to secrecy on numerous occasions after Pierre recounted drunken escapades that usually ended with Max sleeping somewhere preposterous, like a claw-footed bathtub in a fancy suite.

“Where are we going?” You ask sleepily. “Somewhere nearby?”

Pierre tugs you up until you’re sitting. He pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe ten minutes away.”

You lean your full weight against him, admiring how perfectly your bodies slot together. “Can I leave my car here?”

“As long as you’re okay with it staying here until tomorrow, that’s fine.” He coaxes you to stand and presses a kiss to your temple as a reward. Your limbs are still heavy and uncooperative. Pierre winds an arm around your waist, supporting you and assuming the position of your rock as he always did.

"You don't sleep here," You state simply, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head.

"Wouldn't be enough room for two anyway." He gestures to the tiny twin sized bed and shrugs.

Your brow furrows. “Am I staying with you tonight?” You honestly had not considered it. The jet usually left early and you had assumed he would want to get as much rest as possible. But now that you had experienced waking up next to him, you realize how much you want his face to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes each morning.

“Of course you’re staying with me. I’m taking every second of your time that I can get.”

You bite your lip and lay your head on his shoulder. The idea of falling asleep in his arms was enough to shake any lingering sleepiness. “Okay.” Confident that you could hold yourself up, you step out of his grasp. “Ready.”

The few mechanics roaming about the grounds are enough to keep you cautious. You walk through the paddock a hair's breadth apart, although every nerve screams for you to touch him. Every time your arm grazes his, electricity ripples across your skin. All you want to do is hold his hand, but there’s enough prying eyes that you restrain the impulse.

You can tell he feels it too by the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. And he's biting his cheek, you notice. A nervous habit of his and a clear indicator that he'd retreated inside his own head, likely contemplating if he'd truly deserved to win today or not.

Every few months his doubts crept in, the devil on his shoulder reminding him that Horner hadn't deemed him good enough to keep his seat at Red Bull after only a handful of races.

You'll never be as talented as them, is what you'd imagined it whispered. They're only here because they pity you. What makes you think you deserve a seat?

It couldn't be farther from the truth. Deep down, Pierre knew that. Driving in Formula 1 meant being under constant scrutiny from the public and sportscasters. Making an error meant debates about whether you were good enough and rumors about seat security.

There were no such errors today. You'd heard the commentary after the race; everyone was raving about his performance. Not one person had dared say he didn't deserve it.

Not wanting him to suffer alone, you subtly wrap your pinky finger around his. "You're okay," You say softly, his head whipping to you. "You deserved that trophy today. It was some of the best driving I've ever seen, everyone agrees. You deserve a trophy every time you get in that car. You'll always be my champion, even if the world tells you otherwise."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he nods and releases your pinkie. "You're my grounding rod," He says, lips curling in a knowing smile, and you can't hold back your laugh.

"Leave it to you to turn a romantic moment into a cheesy one." Instead of saying you're my rock like any normal person, he had to bring up the time you'd embarrassed yourself at the bar a year or so ago. He'd let you prattle on to poor Dan about building grounding rods of all things, and how you'd thought your professor's way of designing such a system was flawed. Pierre would never let you live that down, it seemed.

Max spots the two of you first, waving from where the boys had gathered outside Red Bull. “About time you showed up! We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!”

“She fell asleep,” Pierre says simply, his confidence back. “Takes her awhile to wake up.”

“Whatever, I’m just glad you’re here,” Daniel says, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you tight to his side. You couldn’t help the broad smile creeping onto your face, twin to the aussie’s as you hug him back. 

“We missed you,” Charles says, falling into step beside you. “I never hear from you anymore!”

You grimace. It was true, while the three boys had texted you quite frequently the past few months, you had barely responded to them. You felt guilty about it, knowing they were taking time out of their packed schedules to catch up. But uni had been kicking your ass and the only one you’d found time for was Pierre. Looking back, you were glad he had been the exception.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say. “Lots of projects.”

“And that new internship,” Max points out. Your eyebrows flick up, gaze flicking to Pierre. You had been awarded an internship a month or so ago at a local engineering firm in London. It was only part time work, a few hours a week, but it was enough. The only one you had told was Pierre.

Pierre grins, the gesture a silent apology. “I may have spilled the beans.” 

You cut him a glare, the others laughing at your attempt at being intimidating. But you couldn’t turn away from him, not when he was looking at you with the same pride you had felt when he’d won earlier that day. 

“Uber’s here,” Charles announces, checking his phone.

“Where?” Daniel asks, and Charles indicates a black SUV parked at the curb. Daniel and Max exchange a look, shouting “Shotgun!” at the same time. Both boys break into a full sprint, feet pounding on the pavement. Daniel wins - barely, leaving Max and Charles to squeeze into the back seat.

Pierre follows you into the third row of seats, his hand immediately engulfing yours. Your stomach flips, glancing up to find a reassuring smile on his face. You could barely focus on what was said for the first half of the ride, hyperaware of the callouses rubbing your skin. The world around you erupts into color at the touch, completing the part of you that you’d never realized was missing. 

The remainder of the drive is filled with laughter, jokes, and plenty of selfies with the driver. It wasn’t every day one could brag about having four world class drivers in your car; you couldn’t blame the man for being excited.

By the time you arrive at the bar, your sides are already splitting with laughter. “First round is on you, Ricciardo,” Charles says, wagging a finger at him. “Punishment for bringing up the Abu Dhabi incident again!”

“Jokes on you, I was already planning on it!” He glances at you and winks. “Gotta congratulate the winner somehow, right?” Little did the Australian know, you had already congratulated Pierre a few hours ago, and you doubted that a few shots would outshine that performance. You hope the pink tinge that rises to your cheeks with the memory isn't obvious and you duck your head just in case.

A blast of air conditioning hits you as you all stumble into the bar. All eyes fell to you and the ragtag group of drivers when you entered, silence blanketing the patrons. The bartender slams a fist on the wooden bartop, rattling glasses and making you flinch.

“Been wonderin’ when you lot were gonna show your ugly mugs!”

Daniel, Max and Charles erupt into friendly laughter, shaking the man’s hand and making small talk. You look to Pierre for an explanation.

“Tradition,” He murmurs. The noise returned to a normal level around you, though you could feel the glances thrown your way. “We come here every year, but only if one of us wins at Silverstone. Been awhile since that happened.”

"Ah," You say, nodding dramatically. "Yes, very long time." Pierre grins, shaking his head.

"Who won this year?" The man - William, Pierre informs you- asks. He towered over you when you sat on the sticky bar stool, tall and lanky but well muscled and certainly not someone you would expect patrons to try disrespecting. He was already pouring five shots of a fine Irish Whiskey, waving Daniel off when he tried to start a tab. “My treat.”

Max claps a hand on Pierre's shoulder. "This one claimed the crown, for once!"

"Wey hey!" William says, passing out the shots. "Everyone else crash out or what?"

"You should watch the replay," You say, knocking Pierre's shoulder with your own. "It was amazing. The move he used to get past Max-" you bring your pinched fingers to your lips in a chef's kiss. "Gorgeous."

"Much to Max's despair," Charles adds, raising his shot. "To the underdog!"

You all echo the sentiment, the boys knocking back the strong alcohol with practiced ease. It didn't go down as smooth for you, burning your throat and making you wince.

Daniel laughs. "Not used to drinking with us anymore, huh?"

"Must have lost my edge," You say, the woody taste lingering in your mouth. "I'm sure it'll hit me hard in a half hour or so, too."

**********

Well, you weren't wrong about the alcohol hitting you like a punch to the gut. Two shots later and you were swaying like a sailor on his first excursion out to sea, Pierre's shoulder the only thing keeping you from toppling off the bar stool. 

Pierre's eyes were bright as the others poked fun at him, William joining in with a witty remark now and then. His laugh wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you content and grounded.

"Hey Pierre," Daniel says at one point, "Don't look now but that table of girls has been obsessed with you all night."

Pierre, blitzed as he was, pays no attention to Dan's warning and turns around. A loopy grin was plastered on his face, turning back and shaking his head.

You may not have been able to think straight, but your stomach lurches. Instantly sobering slightly, you follow Dan's gaze to the indicated table to your left. Three beautiful women sat there, whispering behind their hands and clearly speaking about Pierre. One bit her lip and caught your eye, giggling. Her looks were universally attractive enough that she would be anyone’s type, Pierre included. The possessiveness in the gaze she raked over his body set your blood boiling. 

This… was not a scenario you wanted to play out. You didn't know if Pierre was ready to tell his friends about your relationship yet. You knew he wouldn't let any of those girls have the light of day, but he might let them fawn over him a little, just to protect your secret. And it would kill you, but you would have no choice but to let it happen.

"I'm good," Pierre says, sipping the beer he had been nursing all night.

"Come on mate," Max pushes, a wicked grin on his flushed face, "That blonde is so your type."

No she isn't.

You’re already staring up at Pierre when he turns to you. You have always worn your emotions on your sleeve for anyone to see, and it only got worse when mixed with alcohol. Pierre smiles softly, taking mercy on you. Slowly, he takes your hand and threads your fingers together before turning back to the boys.

"One of you can tell them I’m not interested. I already have my girl." 

Heart beating wildly, you scan your friends faces. They were all wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at your joined hands. Pierre gives your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you to breathe. He read you like an open book, offering reassurance when you needed it most.

"It's about fucking time!" Daniel roars, breaking the tense silence. Your shoulders relax, grinning along with the others. Pierre beams at you, knocking your shoulder to say I told you so. 

"Does this mean I get a break from listening to you obsess over her every weekend?" Max asks, giving you a meaningful look. 

"Likely not," Pierre answers. "I'm still just as obsessed as before. Maybe more." Max pretends to gag, earning him a playful punch from Charles. God, it was so freeing for your relationship to be more open, even if it was just between your closest friends. 

"I'd just like to point out that I told you two this would happen years ago," Charles says matter of factly, pointing at Max and Dan. "Should've taken you up on that bet."

Your mouth hung open. "You were going to bet on us being a couple?"

"Oh come on," Max says, rolling his eyes. "We all knew it was coming eventually. We just didn't know when!"

Pink stains your cheeks, but Pierre laughs and leans in to kiss you. Remembering the girls behind you, you press a little closer to him. Under the guise of placing a kiss to his cheek, you meet the blonde's eyes and smile sweetly.

The woman preens, mouth twisting. Good. Pierre was yours, and now that he'd admitted it, you could let those girls know it. His hand slips to your thigh, squeezing hard. A clear warning that you were venturing into dangerous territory. You didn't care.

The alcohol in your veins makes you bold, and you want to drive your point home. They could look all they wanted, but he was coming home with you. You push the boundary farther and bite the soft skin of his neck just hard enough to leave a mark. Pierre's hiss finally makes you pull back and look up at him innocently.

"Get a room," Daniel teases with a wink. You smile at him, mumbling an insincere apology. Your point had been made. The arrogant smirk had been wiped from the woman’s face, replaced with a grimace. 

"I think it is time for us to get going," Pierre says, annoyance flashing across his face. Oh, you had stoked the fire and now you would have to face the consequences. 

"We're just getting started," Charles complains. Pierre slaps a few bills on the counter and gets up without responding. 

"Bye guys!" You call over your shoulder as Pierre drags you towards the door. They all wave back, Max's lower lip jutting out in a pout. Your eyes slid one more time to the blonde, who had her arms crossed over her chest. You give her a wicked, taunting grin and return her earlier wink.

Pierre halts so quickly that you run into him. “Why are we leaving?”

“You know why,” He growls, flagging down a cab. “You didn't like how she was looking at me, so you did something about it. You might not have noticed, but every man in that bar had their eyes on you. So I’m following your example and doing something about it.”

Your brow furrows. Pierre won’t meet your gaze, and your eyes fall to the purple mark on his neck. You didn’t like his tone; it bordered dangerously on anger. “Are you… Are you mad that I did that?”

Tears threaten to spill when he finally looks at you. God, you were a blubbering drunk.  When your lip wobbles, his anger fades and he sighs. “I’m not mad. I just… I didn’t think you’d want me flaunting our relationship yet. When you did this-�� He gestures to his neck- “I could barely keep my hands off you. Not when I saw the guy walking up to you.”

You sniff, trying to conjure the image of the bar. “I didn’t notice anyone.”

“Yeah, cause I dragged you out here before he could say anything.” Pierre pulls his hood up and sighs. “Trying to catch a cab here is harder than overtaking Hamilton.”

You laugh harder than you should at the off-hand remark, following after him as he trudges down the sidewalk. “Why are you not drunk? I feel like you should be drunk. You won a race. They were feeding you shots one after another.”

“One of us had to be responsible and make sure we got home okay.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “And I knew as soon as you had that first shot it would have to be me. Didn’t you notice me handing the shots to the other guys?”

“No,” You say, rubbing your eyes. “What about the boys? How are they gonna get home?” Pierre stops, forcing you to do the same. He tugs your hood up, makes sure his is secure enough to hide his face, and grabs your hand.

“I already told Seb to come round them up in an hour or so. They’ll be fine.”

You don’t respond, too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face. It doesn’t help that your vision is a tad blurry. Finally you give up and whine, “How much further?”

“It’s right there,” He says, pointing at a towering glass building just across the street. “In five minutes, you can be tucked into a cozy, fluffy suite and you can rest all you want, my love.”

You hum at the words, warmth flooding your veins from more than the liquor. “I like that.”

“What, the building?” He asks, amused. He helps you cross the empty street, making sure you’re paying attention to where you’re going.

“Noooo, what you said,” You clarify, leaning on him as you try to navigate the handful of steps leading to the hotel.

He’s quiet until you reach the elevator. “My love,” He murmurs, and you grin up at him.

“Mon… mon coeur,” You manage to say, somehow pulling the French phrase out of the dregs of your memory. The words are slurred and you know that you absolutely botch the pronunciation, but the intent is clear. You may have lived in France since you were 18, but learning the language wasn’t a requirement when almost everyone knew english as well. But the two of you had spent many hours watching Pierre’s favorite french films over the years; some of it must have unintentionally rubbed off on you.

A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “How do you even know what that means?”

You shrug. “Just do.” The elevator doors open and you step out, Pierre following. You halt, not knowing which hall to take. You glance up at your companion for help, only to find him staring back at you. “What?”

He shakes his head and leads you down the corridor to his room. It's a spacious corner suite, with huge windows facing Silverstone that give him a perfect view of the track. You make for the window but Pierre’s hand on your wrist stops you.

“I don’t think so, it’s time for you to sleep.”

“But I just wanna see,” You protest weakly.

“Nice try. I know you. You’ll sit in front of that window for hours if I let you.”

You give in only because he was right. Cityscapes of any kind drew your attention like a moth to a flame. You pouted anyway, but let him take you to the bedroom. Gentle pressure on your shoulders had you sinking into the plush mattress, groaning at the luxurious softness. Pierre laughs as he helps you out of your shoes and jeans, leaving the hoodie.

Eyelids drooping, you climb under the covers Pierre had pulled back for you. He tucks you in and kisses your temple. You grab for him, tugging on his shirt until he stoops down and gives you a proper kiss. When he steps out of your grasp, you panic.

“Stay,” You mumble, fear bubbling in your chest. He had to stay, he couldn’t leave, not when you only had this one night left-

“I’m just taking off my shoes,” He assures you, his weight sliding in behind you to settle against your back. You sigh, moulding yourself to him as best you could. Being in his arms was somehow familiar, even if he’d never held you like this. It felt like home.

“Pierre?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Pillowy soft lips press to the nape of your neck. “I love you too, mon coeur.”

Tagging: @flashcal