Archive of Our Own

November 14, 2010 - Abu Dhabi

“Du bist Weltmeister!”

It had to have been the millionth time they had replayed Rocky’s voice over the broadcast. The radio message had been on a near-constant loop since the race's conclusion, not that Mark was paying any attention. No, he was alone in the garage while the rest of the team eagerly awaited their new rising star - the youngest world champion in Formula One history - to stand on that mythical top step and take his place among the greats. 

“Sebastian Vettel, you are the world champion! The world champion! Well done enjoy it!”

Rocky’s voice echoed against every wall of the garage and although Mark tried desperately to ignore how the sound seemed to rattle against his skull, like the words were trying to burrow into his very being, he still couldn’t shake the bad taste it left in his mouth. He’d blame it on the sweat and exhaust that had accumulated in the pit, but deep down he knew what that taste really was. Defeat.

Fourteen. That’s the number of points he had finished behind Sebastian this year. 

Fourteen. 

Even now, as he was peeling away his race suit, all he could think about was where he could have possibly made up those fourteen points. Turkey? South Korea?

Did it even matter? He had lost. Hell, it might have been close but he hadn’t even come second. Fernando had taken up that spot and just from the short glimpses he had caught of the Spaniard on the cool down lap and on the television that kept playing that damned radio message, he looked far worse off than Mark.

Mark wiped the sweat from his cheek as his little blonde teammate came skipping across the screen. Sebastian was smiling so wide that it honestly looked like his face might split open with the force of it, but unfortunately, Mark wasn’t that lucky.

He was hopping around like a tike on Christmas day, but that was nothing compared to the waterworks that followed. His eyes glistened as he looked up toward the sky, no doubt taking in every moment and savoring it like a dying man would his last breath. 

Sebastian thrived under situations like these. He soaked up attention like a sponge and this moment, winning the world championship in the season's final hour, he couldn’t have asked for a better way to bask in everyone's adoration, even if he tried. 

Mark didn’t want to stay and watch the champagne spray but it was like he was under a spell. His feet were firmly planted and his eyes stayed glued to the screen as Sebastian tilted his head back and let Jenson and Lewis douse him under the eyes of millions. 

Red Bull gives you wings but champagne gave Sebastian a halo. He was glowing, even if he was dancing around like an absolute ass. 

Eventually, after the German had carelessly dumped the rest of his bottle’s contents over the side of the balcony and been ushered back inside to take part in the post-race press conference, Mark was finally able to break away from his masochistic watch.

He wasn’t bothered on his way back to his driver's room. The hallways were barren - everyone was out in pitlane basking in the glory of a season well finished, and even if they weren’t, who would want to congratulate the guy who’d come in eighth? 

—

The bar buzzed with activity. A hive mind focused on one singular goal. Have a good time getting absolutely plastered. 

Red Bull sure knew how to celebrate their wins, but even some Silver Arrows and Prancing Horses had found their way into the same bar.

Jenson and Lewis looked happy enough, but they had already won their championships. 

Fernando seemed as red hot as the paint on his car, but even after a few drinks, that aggression was questionably directed at poor Petrov who hadn’t stepped aside and let the Spaniard through during the race a few hours prior.

Mark had lightened up a bit since the checkered flag, likely thanks to the fourth bottle in his hand, but even as a fifth followed, he couldn’t shake away the evening's disappointment. He had started the night a strong contender for the world championship and ended it at the bottom of a bottle. Although, he supposed Sebastian was in a similar state, just much happier to be there. 

Speaking of, the blonde was currently stumbling towards their table. He was clearly very, very drunk, but honestly, that put him among the majority. His face was bright red, either from the alcohol, or the tears, or the laughing - most likely all of the above - and he still had that goofy grin pulling at his lips like he had held it too long and now he’d be cursed to smile forever. 

“You’ve been sulking all night!” Sebastian accused, practically draping himself over Mark’s shoulder.

Jenson barked out a laugh at the sight which earned him a caustic glare from the Australian. Mark tried to shrug Sebastian off, but the little bastard was nothing if not determined. 

“You should be celebrating! We won!” He continued jovially. It was like biting into a sweet with too much sugar and suddenly feeling nauseous. 

“You won,” Mark corrected.

“We won the constructors.” Sebastian insisted, which only seemed to cause Mark’s frown to deepen. 

The constructors championship felt like a consolation prize. It was a title without the credit. He hadn’t won it. The team had. That’s why there were two separate trophies at the end of the year. One for the best driver and one for the best team. 

Mark tried to pry Sebastian off again, this time with a little more force. 

“Go leech onto someone else.” He bit, but again, Sebastian held firm. 

“Leech?!” The blonde scoffed, scandalized. “You’re the one who's sourpussing!”

Across the table, Jenson giggled again. “Sourpussing!” He repeated drunkenly.

“You’re really not helping, mate.” Mark hissed.

“Helping? Are you kidding? I’m enjoying the show!” 

Mark loved JB like a brother, but at the moment, he was contemplating the implications of a double homicide. 

Finally, as Sebastian laughed along with Jenson, his grip loosened up enough for Mark to shove him off. Unfortunately, whether it was due to the alcohol in his system or the baseline annoyance that came with being around the mouthy blonde, Mark had put too much force behind the push and sent the kid floundering backward into one of the other bar patrons. 

The Australian was already getting up to apologize for the trouble when a pair of hands slammed into his chest and sent him flying back down into his seat with a grunt. 

“Arschloch!” Sebastian barked down at him, shoving that stupid finger in his face.

He looked like a riled up pomeranian, which had Mark laughing before he could stop himself. That only seemed to egg the younger man on though because soon enough that finger was jabbing into the center of his chest.

Mark’s amusement at the situation quickly evaporated, and all that pent-up anger rose to take its place. Jenson, ever the peacekeeper when it mattered, practically dove across the table to stop Mark from tackling the blonde to the ground, and the closest person to Sebastian, who just so happened to be their exasperated team principal, jumped in to keep him at bay.

“Enough! Both of you! That’s enough!” Christian ordered, scolding them both like naughty children. He then proceeded to commit to a fairly long monologue that he had likely been stewing over for the majority of the season. It included all the highlights.

Never in my days! You’ve soured the night! After all we’ve been through?!

Honestly, Mark was so far gone that he’d barely caught every other word, but by the end, he’d sobered up enough to catch the important bit. 

“Back to your rooms. We’ll talk about this after the debrief on Wednesday.”

Britta was already collecting Sebastian and ushering him toward the door by the time Mark had managed to order himself a cab back to the hotel. The buzz of the bar had settled down into a gentle hum and even some of the other crew were beginning to filter out. It seemed as though they had accidentally put an end to the night. 

A shame really. Red Bull was buying. 

—

November 17, 2010 - Milton Keynes

It was amazing that even after thirty-four years, being called to the principal's office could still make him feel so incredibly uneasy. Somehow though, Sebastian looked worse off than he was. The kid practically hadn’t stopped squirming around since Christian had ushered them up to his office and promised that he’d only be a moment. 

Realistically, Mark understood that their jobs weren’t in any danger. They had contracts and as far as he knew, there were no stipulations around drunken misunderstandings. That’s all Sunday had been, after all- just one big misunderstanding. Mark, despite the near constant frustration he felt toward his younger teammate, never meant to hurt him and he was sure that Seb had only instigated out of a need to retaliate. 

Still, that old saying about drunken words being sober thoughts sat at the forefront of his mind. Maybe all the two of them needed was just an opportunity to take a few good swings at each other and then they’d finally be the pair of model teammates Red Bull wanted them to be. 

Mark huffed a laugh through his nose at the thought, inadvertently catching Sebastian’s attention.

“What?” He asked in a hushed voice like he was afraid Christian was waiting with his ear pressed to the door, ready to catch them out. “What’s funny?”

When Mark didn’t answer, Sebastian looked ready to lean over and ask again, but before he could, Christian walked in with a freshly steaming cup of tea. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Horner said, raising his cup as if that served as explanation enough. Only, he was the team principal, so it did. “I’m sure you both are aware of why I organized this little chat.”

The two drivers sat up and both spoke at once.

“Christian, this is all a misunderstanding-”

“Mark pushed me-”

The pair looked at each other for a moment, equally stunned at what the other had said. 

“I pushed you? What are you five?” Mark scoffed, and Sebastian prickled at the statement.

“You did! You pushed me!”

Suddenly, Sebastian’s finger was back in his face and he was reliving Sunday night all over again.

“I was trying to pry your drunken ass off me after I’d politely asked you to leave me alone!” 

“You called me a leech!”

Christian’s long suffering sigh cut through their incessant bickering, causing both drivers to pause momentarily and regard the man currently rubbing at his temples. 

“You two never quit, do you?” He asked rhetorically, but of course, nothing was ever rhetorical around Sebastian. 

“He started it!” The blonde accused, and if he hadn’t just won a Formula One championship, Mark would have sworn that the blonde was still in grade school with the way he was always petulantly putting all the blame on anyone but himself.

“I’ll finish it too, you little-” 

“Fucking hell. This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Christian interjected again. “The two of you bicker like little schoolchildren. You’re supposed to be the pinnacle of motorsport and quite frankly, looking at you now, that is the most embarrassing notion I’ve ever heard.”

Sebastian deflated like a sad little balloon animal while Mark just sat there looking like a deer in headlights.

“What you two pulled in Abu Dhabi was completely inexcusable. You embarrassed me. You embarrassed the team, and you embarrassed yourselves,” He continued, only pausing for a moment to take a sip of his freshly brewed tea as if chewing them out had left him parched. Maybe it had.  

The room was silent for a long moment. Christian seemed to be fighting off a steadily approaching aneurysm, while Sebastian and Mark sat there quietly so as to not accelerate the process. Eventually though, he reached into his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. 

“I’ve arranged for you both to participate in some mandatory team bonding over the break. If you wish to continue racing for this team, it is not optional.”

Mark’s jaw nearly broke with the force at which it hit the floor.

“You’re kidding.” He scoffed once he’d regained his composure. 

Christian didn’t even look up from the stack of papers he was currently carding through. 

“I’m not. The budget has already been approved so clear your schedules for the first week of December. I’ll have the team email you the details by the end of the week, but other than that, if you have no further questions, you’re both dismissed.” 

Mark chewed at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something he might regret. After another long pause, he just got up and walked out, leaving Christian and Sebastian behind in the room together, which as he would realize later, was not his brightest move. 

A week later he received an email along with a confirmation receipt for a flight to Switzerland. The little blonde tart must have stayed behind and convinced Christian to let him pick their destination, because if memory served, and it usually did, Switzerland was where Sebastian currently lived.

He thought about emailing Christian his letter of resignation, but that would mean admitting that Sebastian won, so instead he breathed a deep sigh through his nose and began preparing for a weeks long getaway in one of the coldest places on earth at the moment.

What a thrill.

—

December 1, 2010 - Zurich

It was cold. Bitterly so. Not that sorta brisk winter breeze that makes you contemplate a light jacket. No, it was properly frigid! 

A fresh blanket of snow had fallen on his flight over, and although fundamentally he understood that Switzerland was going to be cold, he hadn’t been prepared for how sharp it would be. Even standing inside the airport, he could feel the frosty air sinking in through his coat.

It had nearly been impossible to find decent winter gear in Australia, what with it being quite warm over there this time of year. Luckily, he had taken a ski trip with a couple of friends a few years prior, so he wasn’t completely left to the wolves. Still, he couldn’t help but curse the innocent little snow flurries that danced outside in the wind, like they were the sole cause of his discomfort.

“Just think of it as a free vacation, mate. Sebi’s not that bad!” Jenson consoled over the phone. 

“He told Christian I shoved him.” Mark scoffed back. “He’s the only reason I’m freezing my ass off, shin deep in snow right now.”

“He was probably just scared you’d blame him too.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he thinks you hate him. Between that and being called into the boss's office, I’m sure he was probably just wound up. You know how he gets.”

Sebastian did have a habit of overthinking to the point of self sabotage. It wasn’t a stretch to believe he’d gotten himself into a tizzy thinking Mark had some master plan to throw him under the bus, which is why he’d jumped at the first opportunity to shift the blame away from himself. That still didn’t make Mark feel any better though.

He was still cold. He was still in Switzerland. And he’d still have to waste a portion of his break spending time with the very man he’d been counting down the days to get away from. 

Mark hadn’t even realized how quiet he’d gotten until Jenson’s voice came through the receiver again in that tone he reserved for times when he was trying to lighten up a particularly grim mood. 

“Look, it's only for a few days. Then you won’t have to see him until pre-season testing.” 

“Just a few days,” Mark repeated back as he watched Sebastian weave his way through foot traffic to get to the entrance. 

“Try not to kill him before then, yeah?”

Mark hummed a noncommittal sound through the phone before ending the call and stuffing his cell deep into his pocket. 

—

They’d been driving for three hours already. Neither of them had said very much, which was honestly quite shocking because Mark would have bet actual money that Sebastian couldn’t physically stay quiet for more than ten minutes. Yet there he was, mouth closed and eyes focused on the road. It made Mark wonder if Jenson was right. If Sebastian genuinely thought he hated him. 

Sure, the kid had his moments, but he was young. Mark was sure he was just as annoying when he first started, and he had been older than Sebastian was now. By quite a few years actually. 

He didn’t hate Sebastian, he was just…jealous? He’d never admit it, but the fact Seb was always so fast, so ready, so loved made him want to tear his hair out. This year was supposed to be his year because like it or not, he was running out of time. Sebastian still practically had a whole career ahead of him, and although Mark would never want to win because someone was holding back, he sometimes wished that Sebastian would just… not.

Not what? He had no idea, but he had a sickly feeling that over the next few years, he might find out.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Sebastian was tapping the steering wheel in an off beat rhythm. If he closed his eyes and really listened, it sort of sounded like Yesterday by The Beatles. 

It only took about two minutes for it to grate away Mark’s already thinning patience. 

“Quit,” Mark warned.

“It’s too quiet. Feels like we are going to a funeral.” 

“Then put on some music.”

Sebastian went quiet for another moment before mumbling something under his breath.

“What?”

“I said I don’t know how to work this radio.”

They hadn’t even reached their destination yet and Mark was already thinking about getting out and walking back to the airport. 

“What do you mean you don’t know how to work the radio? Is this not your car?”

“It's an leihwagen,” Sebastian snapped his fingers as he quickly tried to supply Mark with the translation. “Uh…A hire car!”

“What are we doing in a rental? I thought you lived here.” Mark squinted his eyes at the German.

“I do, but when I saw we were headed to the mountains I thought it best to get a car more suited for the terrain,” The blonde explained, which would make sense if it weren’t for the fact that Sebastian had been the one to request the mountains.

“Why would you ask to come up here if you’d need a rental to do it?”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to look lost.

“What do you mean? I didn’t ask to come here.”

“Bullshit.”

“No! It’s beautiful, but I had nothing to do with it. I don’t even know who made the decision for this to happen in Switzerland.” 

Mark narrowed his eyes at the younger man again, not quite believing him, but then again, Sebastian was historically a terrible liar, so the likelihood of him suddenly gaining that skill was fairly low compared to the latter option of him simply being truthful. 

Eventually, Mark leaned over to fiddle with the radio himself. It wasn’t hard to get it turned on but they were practically in the middle of nowhere, snow and mountains as far as the eye could see, so he could barely get a signal, much less an English one. 

After a long few minutes of scrolling through a variety of static channels, he turned the radio back off with a huff and sat back in his seat. That apparently was enough to draw a giggle out of his teammate.

“Oh, think that’s funny, do you?” Mark asked with no real venom behind his words.

“Very,” Sebastian shot back, seeming quite enthused by the older man’s failings, as he usually did. “We’re not far anyway. We should be there in the next few minutes.”

Sure enough, ten minutes later they were pulling up to what was possibly the smallest cabin Mark had ever seen. 

“That can’t be it. That barely looks big enough to be a shed!” Mark observed, double checking the address. “We’re thirty minutes off of the nearest town! What the hell do they expect us to do up here?”

“Find common ground, I suppose,” Seb answered softly with a shrug. 

—

The cabin had three rooms. A kitchen, a bathroom and…

“Where’s the other bedroom?” Sebastian's voice came from up ahead.

“What do you mean?” Mark asked, heaving his bag inside and shutting the door behind him. A fruitless effort to keep the cold at bay. 

“I mean I’m only seeing one bedroom unless I missed the other on the way in, and honestly Mark, I don’t think that’s possible.” 

The Aussie shoved past his teammate into the room expecting, at the very least, to find two beds, but no, there in the center of the room was a humble little queen. Mark nearly dropped his bag in the doorway at the sight, but took another few steps into the room like that would help him spot a door they had missed leading to the second bedroom. Unfortunately, no such door existed. 

Sebastian wiggled into the room and carelessly dropped his bag onto the foot of the bed nearest the window. 

“And what do you think you're doing?” Mark scoffed at him with a raised brow. 

“What, do you prefer this side?” Sebastian asked, already shifting to move his bag. 

“No. I mean why are you putting your bag down in here?”

Sebastian blinked up at him in confusion so Mark continued. 

“I’m not sleeping in this bed with you, Seb. You’re just going to have to lay some blankets out on the floor or something.”

The blonde gawked at him like he had just been told he’d be sleeping out in the snow.

“You’re not serious.” He eventually deadpanned, but Mark was already dropping his duffle onto the bed and beginning to unpack. 

“Mark you can’t make me sleep on the floor like I’m some kind of dog!” Sebastian argued. 

“You act like one well enough,” Mark knew it was mean and completely uncalled for, but he was cold and beyond frustrated. 

“I do not!” Sebastian hissed behind him, shoving him hard on the shoulder.

Mark sucked in a quick breath through his nose and spun around to catch the blondes retreating arm. 

“You do.” He spat. “You follow Christian and the boys around the garage like a goddamn pup and they treat you like you’re some kind of angel because of it.” 

Sebastian’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared up at Mark in shock so he kept going.

“You catch a lucky break and suddenly everyone thinks you’re God’s gift to motorsport, but I know deep down you’re scared.” Seb’s trying to pull out of his grip now, but Mark holds fast. “You’re terrified that with every little mistake you make, they’ll realize it’s all just a fluke. That’s why you play nice with everyone. You’re hoping it’ll save you.”

He didn’t know where all this was coming from. Even Mark didn’t believe what he was saying. He was just angry.

Angry at Seb for winning. Angry at himself for letting the championship slip away. Angry at Christian for sending them out to the middle of nowhere in the hopes they might come back nicer than they left. Hell, at this point he was angry at Switzerland for being cold!

There were tears welling up in Sebastian’s eyes now, either from frustration or the fact that somehow, Mark had managed to strike a nerve. It made the Australian pause for a moment before he finally released Seb’s wrist.

The blonde yanked his arm back hard enough that it made a sound when it connected with the wall behind him. He hissed out something in German that Mark didn’t quite catch but honestly, it was probably for the best. 

Mark heaved out a deep sigh before nabbing another few shirts from his duffle and packing them away into the closet. 

He was no stranger to long flights, that came with the job, but he was starting to think that the many hours spent on the plane had fried his brain. 

The week would go by a whole lot smoother if he just left things alone. Sure, Sebastian could be an annoying little git at times, but he’d barely said a word before Mark had moved to bite his head off.  

For a brief moment, he thought about apologizing. He hadn’t meant to make the kid cry, and an apology might help them build up some rapport. 

Thud.

“What the…” Mark turned around to figure out where the sudden racket had come from only to discover that Sebastian and his bag were missing. Seb’s bag was still half strung out on the foot of the bed but Mark’s was nowhere to be found. 

The Aussie crossed the room at the same time that Sebastian waltzed back in looking like the cat who’d gotten the cream.  

“Where’s my bag?” Mark asked, a deep frown already pulling at his features. 

Seb simply shrugged but he still had that infuriating little grin on his face. 

Mark huffed a cloud of annoyance out through his nose before venturing into the hallway. It only took him a second to spot his bag propped up against the front door but by the time he had taken the two or three steps to fetch it, he heard the telltale sound of the bedroom door slamming shut and locking behind him. 

Abandoning his duffle, he strode back towards the bedroom and tried the handle. Sure enough, it was locked. He pounded a tightly closed fist against the door a few times but to his dismay he heard nothing from the other side. 

“Sebastian, open the fucking door.”

Nothing.

“I’m not kidding, mate. Open the door.”

Silence.

Mark tried the handle again, but alas, it was still locked. 

“Fuck it,” he hissed, snatching the keys from the counter and storming outside into the snow. If Sebastian wanted to act like a brat, then he could do it alone. Mark was going out to find someplace warm to hunker down for at least the next few hours. 

—

The drive back into town wasn’t that bad all things considered. Sure, it took the better part of an hour, especially with the roads being as unkept as they were, but it had given him plenty of time to cool down. Even the scenery was actually sort of nice now that he wasn't sharing it with a little blonde devil. 

Mark pulled into the car park of the first hotel he saw, which was conveniently the only hotel around. That being said, it was packed, which was a little surprising considering the cabin had felt like it was smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Who would want to vacation here?

After trying and failing to communicate with the desk attendant about a room he found himself meandering towards the hotel bar. The bartender didn’t speak much English either, but it was a lot easier to communicate “drink please” than “I’ll take any room you’ve got.”

About three fingers into… whatever the hell the bartender was pouring him, Mark felt his phone buzz. He half expected it to be Sebastian crying for him to come back but instead, the caller ID nearly made him choke.

“Christian,” Mark greeted, accepting the call with a smile he hoped would come through in his voice. 

“Ah, Mark. I’m glad you picked up. I was worried you wouldn’t have a signal out there,” Christian’s voice crackled back. He wasn’t coming through as cleanly as Jenson had so obviously the signal must not be great out there. Silently, he wondered if Christian had planned it that way. 

“How are you and Sebastian settling in?” 

“Place is a bit small, don’t you think?” Mark proposed boldly.

“It’s as big as it needs to be,” Christian answered before pausing long enough that Mark felt the need to check if the call had dropped. “Besides, what does it matter to you? You’re not even there right now, are you?”

“How do you-” Mark felt like he had just been caught playing hookey. His eyes darted around the bar trying to find Christain but there was no way he’d drag his family all the way out there just to supervise his and Sebastian’s little mandatory getaway. 

That’s when he spotted a familiar blonde ponytail from across the bar. 

“You sent Britta out here to babysit us?!” Mark gawked over the phone only to get an amused chuckle back in response.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mark. Her family goes out there every winter.” Mark decided that that sounded like bullshit so he just stayed silent. Luckily for him, Christian wasn’t done talking.

“You can’t make amends with Sebastian if you’ve abandoned him out in the forest with no way back to the city. I understand the two of you don’t see eye to eye on most things but truthfully I’m running out of the patience to care. Go back to the cabin, play nice, and don’t fucking make me call you again.” 

Beep.

Mark set his phone down on the bartop with a noise that could have been mistaken for a growl. The sound was enough to draw Britta’s attention to him but she didn’t seem too keen on wandering over due to the state he was in so she settled on giving him a sheepish wave from across the room. Deep down he knew she was just doing her job, but that didn’t stop him from frowning back at her in response.

Eventually, after throwing back the last few sips of his drink, he was able to rein in his frustration at the situation. Still, Britta didn’t seem too happy to see him striding over. 

“Britta.” He greeted. 

“Webber.” She huffed back, and that’s when he realized that she wasn’t nervous that he’d be mad at her. No, she was mad at him.

“Look, I’m not here to cause problems-” He began but she cut him off with a scoffed laugh. 

“But you have no problem leaving Sebastian alone in the middle of nowhere I see.”

“Hey, I didn’t choose for us to come out here.” He frowned, a hint of annoyance lacing the edge of his voice. 

At that, she seemed to deflate a bit.

“No… No, I suppose you didn’t.” Her gaze shifted down to the steaming cup between her hands. 

“It’s just…” She began before trailing off like she’d thought better about what she had planned to say. “Give him a chance. Please? He’s not nearly as bad as you make him out to be and believe me, I would know. I spend more time with him than I do with my own family.” 

Mark had a feeling she was trying to make a joke, but there was an underlying sadness to her voice. He knew firsthand how hard it was being away from home so often, and he supposed having a family would double that difficulty. 

“Okay,” He agreed softly, and that seemed to be good enough for Britta because she reached into her bag and pulled out two decently sized bottles of whatever the bartender had been pouring him. 

“To make the time go faster,” She explained with a sheepish smile, before ushering him towards the door. “Oh, and don't forget to get some groceries on your way back. It’s supposed to snow some tonight. There’s a store on the corner.” 

—

The journey back took nearly twice as long. By the time he’d gathered up enough groceries for the week and gotten back on the road, it was nearly impossible to tell where pavement began and mountain ended. 

It was a slow and steady trek, but eventually, his headlights illuminated the familiar silhouette of their rickety old cabin.

Mark stuffed his arms full of bags, being mindful not to break the two bottles Britta had gifted him, before trudging through the snow up to the front door. It took a bit of effort to balance the bags and heave the door open all in one go since the snow had now come up an inch or two, but he managed.

When he was finally able to set the groceries down all Mark wanted to do was collapse onto the nearest soft surface and go unconscious for a while. Unfortunately, the groceries still needed to be put away and the cabin was still freezing. 

To help fend off the cold, the Aussie knocked back another glass of what Britta had given him and began to work on the groceries. It didn’t take long, he’d only bought enough for the week, but by the time he finished, his head was swimming. 

The last meal he’d had had been hours ago. A shitty complimentary plane dish that he had picked at for around twenty minutes before handing back over to the flight attendant to bin. Not exactly the best move for a man who’d been drinking since he’d gotten back to the city. 

That’s likely why he couldn’t remember opening a door that had previously been locked, or why he also wouldn’t recall crawling under the covers and immediately finding comfort in the first source of heat he could. 

When he woke up the next day, the bed was empty and a fire had been started in the hearth. Faintly he could smell something wafting in through the kitchen, so, with a groan, he forced himself to sit up. 

A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. Briefly, he cursed himself for not remembering to pack any first aid, but just as he was beginning to really hate himself for it, he noticed two little pills on the bedside next to a half-empty glass of water. 

Mark paused a moment before downing the medicine and throwing back the rest of the glass. The relief was slow-acting, but at least it was something. 

Knock. Knock.

“Mark…? I made breakfast.” Sebastian’s voice came from outside.

Obviously, the blonde was expecting him to still be asleep because when pulled the door open Sebastian nearly lept out of his own skin. 

“Relax, mate. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Mark couldn’t help but chuckle, much to the German’s annoyance. 

“I didn’t know you were up!” Seb explained, clutching a trembling hand to his chest dramatically.

“Yeah, I figured that.” 

Gently, Mark pushed Sebastian out of the doorway so that he could make his way into the kitchen. Whatever he had made smelled more than edible. To his surprise, it actually smelled… nice. 

Sebastian toddled after him and began to set the table. It looked like he had gone the whole nine yards. Bacon, eggs, toast, even pancakes.

“I prefer waffles but they didn't have the uh… a uh…” Seb motioned with his hand like he was physically trying to snatch the words from the air. 

“Waffle iron?” Mark supplied, raising a brow.

“That’s really what it’s called? That’s lazy.” 

“Yeah, well. Lazy or not, I don’t mind pancakes.”

A comfortable silence settled over them as they both dug into breakfast. Pleasantly, it was as good as it smelled so after a while he asked, “Where did you learn to cook?”

Sebastian seemed surprised at the question, almost like he wasn’t expecting Mark to speak to him at all. 

“My father and I used to make breakfast together before my karting races. It was like our little ritual. I had to have the same breakfast every race or else I’d lose.” He explained, a nostalgic smile appearing as he spoke. 

“Well if I’d known it was that easy, I would have interrupted your breakfasts a long time ago.” 

That drew a huffed laugh from his younger teammate. 

“You’ll be sad to learn that I have since outgrown that habit.” Seb shot back, biting off a piece of bacon with that goofy grin he always wore when he was trying to joke around with someone. 

“I never liked cooking.” Mark supplied after a while. 

“You don’t cook?” Seb asked, his brows raised high enough to brush the curls that sat low on his forehead. 

“Never felt the need to.”

“Not even now that you’re out on your own?”

Mark shoveled a bit of egg into his mouth to give himself some time to think of an appropriate answer.

When he’d moved to England to chase his dreams of becoming a Formula One driver, he had done so with the help of his manager. She’d let him move in with her and had taken care of basically anything that had to do with his racing career, including his diet.

Eventually, Mark just shrugged and said, “We’ve got trainers. They take care of that.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. During the season nearly everything was handled for them, but this was the off-season. 

“You…work with your trainer over the breaks?” Seb dug, but if the pinch of his eyebrows was anything to go off of, he wasn’t asking Mark because he didn’t believe him. He was asking because he thought he had just stumbled onto some secret advantage Webber had over him. 

Mark forked down the last of his breakfast before leaving Sebastian to stew over this newfound information at the table. Only, Sebastian followed him to the sink. 

“Do you do other things in the off-season?” Seb pressed, staring up at Mark with those annoyingly bright eyes. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Mark couldn’t help but tease.

It was too easy to rile the younger man up. He always sought the deeper meaning to everything, even if there wasn’t one.

“I would. That’s why I asked!” The blonde huffed, pulling at Mark’s sleeve. 

“Here. I’ll make you a deal.” Webber finally budged, turning to face Sebastian. “I’ll wash. You dry. Once we’re done, I’ll fill you in on all my juicy off-season secrets.” 

For a moment, the German just stared up at him with narrowed eyes, as if he were trying to work out if this was some sort of trick. 

“I could always do the dishes myself,” Mark said, turning back to the sink, fighting desperately to keep the amusement from his voice. 

“No, no! I’ll help!” Seb protested, grabbing at the older man’s shoulder in a desperate attempt to get him to move over. 

—

The dishes went by quickly. Sebastian had only dirtied up a few pans so at most it took about five minutes and once they were done Seb was right back in his personal space, pestering him for answers. 

“I don’t cook.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mark. We’ve established that.”

“No. I mean, I don’t cook. ”

Vettel could figure out the best racing line of nearly every track he came into contact with but somehow this was flying over his head?

“I don’t know how to cook, Sebastian.” Mark finally huffed crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to seem annoyed, but really it was just a trick to build up some space between him and his nosey teammate. 

“Oh.”

With the way Seb was, he half expected the younger man to immediately start teasing him for his lack of a life skill. To his surprise though, Sebastian actually looked… sad? Mark frowned. He would have rathered ridicule than pity. 

“I can teach you!” The blonde suggested suddenly. “We’re stuck here for a week anyway.” 

“I didn’t exactly get enough ingredients for a five-star meal, Sebi.” The nickname slid off his tongue before he could stop it, but Sebastian barely seemed to notice.

“Something simple then. We’ll figure it out. I thought I saw enough in the pantry for a decent pasta dish. Maybe we could do that for dinner?” 

Mark huffed a small laugh, shaking his head as he watched Sebastian wander over to take stock of what all they had.

“Sure, Seb. Whatever you say.”

—

The day passed like molasses. Around noon they had gotten all bundled up to try and make a trip out to the store to gather up more cooking supplies only to find they had been snowed in. 

Apparently, a storm had blown through overnight, and according to their little windup radio, the weather was only meant to get worse until about halfway through the week. It wasn’t a huge deal. They had plenty of food and water, but the cold was biting and they were already starting to run low on firewood.

Supposedly there was more stacked up on the north side of the property near where they had parked, but Mark wasn’t in a hurry to wander out in a snowstorm unless they really needed it. As it stood right now, they still had electric, as shotty as it was, so that meant that at the very least, they could run the shitty heater and pray the wood they had would be enough to carry them over til the storm died down. 

Sebastian shivered on the corner of the bed. He was nearly completely buried under a stack of blankets they had scavenged from an old cedar chest out in the hallway, and just the sight of him was enough to make Mark shake with the effort not to laugh. 

“I thought you’d be used to the cold.” He mused, pulling his own coat tighter around himself.

“I am!” 

“Then why are you bundled up to your nose and still shaking like a leaf?”

Sebastian turned to frown at him, which only made Mark laugh harder.

“You look like the Michelin Man!” The younger man rebuttaled, turning back around to face the fire again.

“The only reason I’m wrapped up like this is because someone is hogging all the blankets!” 

Mark couldn’t see much of Sebastian, but he did spot the blonde's ears go red at the statement. 

“I-I didn’t-”

“No, no! It’s fine,” Mark teased, closing his eyes and waving a hand around theatrically. “I’ll just freeze to death, thousands of miles from home! Don’t you worry about me, Seb. Oof-!”

A solid weight landed on his chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him. For a moment he thought Sebastian had thrown something at him, but when he opened his eyes, the blonde was no longer in his spot at the edge of the bed. 

“If you are so worried about the cold, we can share,” Seb’s voice drifted up from somewhere below his chin. 

Mark looked down to find that familiar mess of curls pulling the blankets tightly around them. Almost instantly he felt warmer, but whether it was from the extra layers or the close proximity to the little bastard who’d hoarded them in the first place, he couldn’t tell. 

“Seb, I wasn’t trying to-” Mark began but he was quickly cut off by Sebastian settling his head down on his shoulder.

“I’m not getting blamed if you get a cold!” The German shot back and he actually had the nerve to sound a little annoyed.

“I’m not going to catch a cold, Sebastian,” Mark scoffed, rolling his eyes, but that only seemed to encourage the kid to tuck in closer.

“You’re right. You won’t now that I’m keeping you warm!”

Mark wanted to groan and push Sebastian off, but much to his dismay, Seb was right. He was much warmer under their little blanket shelter. However, admitting that Sebastian was right seemed nearly just as bad as freezing to death so, of course, he couldn’t just leave it.

“You know, if you were cold and wanted a cuddle you could have just said that.” 

Sebastian immediately shot up to glare at him but there was a pink dusting to his cheeks that was quickly spreading up to his ears.

“I was- I was helping you!” The blonde huffed, moving to get up and take his blankets, and body heat, elsewhere. 

Mark was quick to pull him back down with another laugh, but when Sebastian tried to squirm out of his grip, he felt something pull in his chest.

“Seb, settle down, mate. I was only joking. No, need to be so sensitive.”

“I’m not sensitive! You push and push and push, and when people get tired of it you always act like it’s their fault for getting upset!” 

At first, Mark was almost too stunned to speak, shocked by the younger man’s sudden outburst, but as soon as he felt Sebastian try and move away again, it was like a switch flipped in his head.

“You’re one to talk,” He scoffed. “You could write a book on how to push people's buttons! I swear, half the time I think you’re being a little shit on purpose as some sort of mind game.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Seb hissed back, moving to yank the blankets away, but Mark stopped him by snatching his wrists. “You blame me all the time for your misfortunes. Nothing is ever your fault!”

A frustrated chuckle was ripped from Webber’s chest as he pulled Sebastian closer until they were practically nose to nose. 

“I suppose Turkey was all me then, huh?”

“You should have just let me through! I was faster!” 

Mark was about to snap back at the kid, but he was cut off by the room suddenly going dark. Comically, Sebastian let out a little noise that made him sound like a mouse, and just as quickly as he had been trying to push Mark away, he was gripping onto the man's shirt for purchase.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Mark groaned, staring at the overhead light like sheer spite and willpower would get it to kick back on.  

“Do you think we tripped a breaker?” Seb asked, already moving to snatch the flashlight from the bedside table, turning it on and almost immediately blinding Mark in the process.

“Christ, Seb!” He said, pushing the light away from his eyes.

“Sorry!”

Once the stars drifted away and he got his vision back, Mark swung his legs off the side of the bed and went to nab the other flashlight. They were old, dim things. Probably meant more for decoration than actual use, but they’d have to do. 

Sebastian followed him out into the hallway to check the breaker box, but much to their shared dismay, they were all flipped in the right direction. 

“Surely they have a generator?” Seb murmured, standing on his tip-toes to see over Mark’s shoulder.

“Did you see one on the way in?” 

“Um…no.” He answered after a slow blink.

“Then that doesn’t do us much good now, does it, Sebi?” 

Sebastian looked like he wanted to argue, maybe say something along the lines of, I was just trying to help, but the cold was already starting to seep through the walls now that the heater was dead, so thankfully he held his tongue.

“We’re going to need more wood. This stuff will barely last us the next few hours.” Mark sighed, already moving to stuff his stiff limbs back into his winter gear.

“You are not seriously thinking about going out there, are you? It sounds awful, Mark, honestly.” The wind was strong enough to make the cabin walls creak under the stress. Every few minutes a particularly hard gust would rattle the windows but they didn’t exactly have much of a choice. 

“You got a better idea to keep warm?” Mark huffed, struggling to stuff his foot into a boot he hadn’t entirely unlaced earlier. When Sebastian didn’t answer, Mark snorted a soft laugh and breathed a, didn’t think so, under his breath.

He was nearly dressed when Sebastian began to scrabble to put his own coats on. 

“No, no, no.” Mark scruffed him, stopping the blonde in his tracks. “I need you up here to shine the light through the window so I can find my way back. Having us both out there is just asking for trouble.”

“But I-” 

“Sebastian, for once in your life, just fucking listen,” Mark squeezed the back of his neck to try and drive some sense into his younger teammate. “I’ll be fine on my own. Besides, if you stay here, I won’t have to worry about you blowing away in the wind.”

He was trying to lighten the mood and pull a laugh from Sebastian, but he didn’t look too convinced.

“And you’ll be back?” He asked softly, almost too soft for Mark to hear over the whipping wind that waited for him outside. 

“Where else would I go?” Mark tried again, but when Sebastian looked ready to hit him, he threw in a real answer.

“Yes, Seb. I’ll be right back.”

—

The wind cut like a knife. Mark was barely three steps from the porch and he could hardly make out anything other than the empty duffle slung around his shoulder and the flickering flashlight in his hand. It felt like an hour had passed before he reached the car, but he knew it could have only been a few minutes because he could still feel his fingers and toes, even if they were beginning to tingle from the cold.

The wood hadn’t been the easiest thing in the world to find. To keep it dry enough for use, the owners had covered it with a tarp, but due to all the snowfall, it was nearly impossible to spot. The only reason Mark had been able to find it was because he had bumped into it and nearly fallen face-first into the snow.

It took him a while to dig some wood out from the pile and shove enough of it in his duffle to make it through the night, but as soon as his bag was full, he was trudging his way back up to the cabin. His gait was shorter this time, desperately trying to avoid tipping over in the snow again. Unfortunately, in his efforts to tread carefully, enough snow had melted into his flashlight to make the poor thing go dead. 

Mark tried all the old tricks to get it to shine again. Turning it off and on. Violently smacking it against his hand. Calling it a useless bastard. Nothing worked. He was dead in the water. 

The cabin couldn’t have been more than fifteen feet away, but with the wind whipping snow into his eyes it was getting increasingly harder to see. 

His breathing picked up as he tried to tamper down the rising panic in his chest. He just needed to get back. That’s all. Just a short walk.  

Carefully, he knelt down to try and feel the tracks he had made on his way out to the car in the hopes that if he were able to retrace his steps, he could find the cabin again. 

It wasn’t easy, but eventually, he got close enough to see Sebastian’s flashlight cut through the storm. After that, it was just a matter of scrambling his way back inside and slamming the door shut behind him.

The duffle fell to the ground with a loud thud, and Mark couldn’t tell whether he wanted to laugh or cry at making it back in one piece. Before he could decide though, a flash of blonde slammed into his chest, sending them both flying backward.

Mark’s back connected with the door with another loud thud, but luckily he was wearing enough layers that he barely felt a thing. Suddenly, he was laughing so hard that he would have doubled over if it weren’t for the gangle of limbs currently tearing to wrap around him.

“Settle down, Seb!” Mark snorted, trying to pull the other man off of him, but Sebastian wouldn’t budge. 

“You said you’d be right back!” Seb’s voice sounded wet.

“I was. I am!” Mark argued but Sebastian only pulled him in tighter. 

“You weren’t! You disappeared! I called out for you and you didn’t answer! I thought you’d-” A shiver wracked the younger man’s body hard enough that it shook the both of them. “I didn’t know what to think. Why didn’t you answer?”

Mark stared down at him for a slack-jawed moment, and that’s when he realized that Sebastian was practically half-dressed for the weather again. His coat, one boot, and a pair of gloves that looked to be hastily pulled onto the wrong hand made the blonde's plans to go after him glaringly obvious. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t hear you.” Mark finally answered, carding a gentle hand through the younger man’s hair. 

They stood there like that for a while. Sebastian was clinging to him like he’d never let go again and Mark was carefully trying to soothe the blonde enough that he could free himself from the kid’s iron grip and ditch his soaked clothes.

“My flashlight’s kapud.” Mark tried after a few minutes and the blonde pulled away just enough to look up at him in confusion. 

He looked an absolute mess. Cheeks wet, eyes red. It reminded him of that day in Fuji. 

“What…?”

Mark raised his broken flashlight up to Sebastian like that would help him understand. “My flashlight broke out there. I reckon it just needs to dry out but-”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, what did you say before?”

“Kapud?” Mark repeated, raising a brow.

For another beat, Sebastian was silent, but then a full-bodied laugh filled the room.

“Kaputt?” The German eventually supplied between gasped breaths.

Mark moved to peel the younger man off of him, but Sebastian was quick to backpedal. 

“No, no! I don’t mean to laugh!” Which was funny because he was still giggling like an idiot. “It’s just, I’m sure I sound the same to you. It’s nice hearing you try, I didn’t know you had picked anything up.”

At that, Mark shrugged. “You’re not easy to ignore.”

“I’d be boring if I was,” Sebastian beamed, ushering him to the bedroom. “Now let's get you warmed up before you turn into a Markcicle!” 

It was so stupid Webber wanted to hit him, but to his annoyance, he found himself smiling instead.

—

“Do you have any threes?”

“Go fish.”

“Was? Du lügst!” Sebastian hissed, going to pick up another card. He already had nearly half the deck in his hand. [What? You’re lying!]

Mark snorted at the reaction and scooted closer to the fire. They had been playing for nearly half an hour and he was just beginning to get the feeling back in his fingers.

“What’s that?” He asked as he watched Seb angrily reorganize his cards.

“I was calling you a cheater.” The German huffed, paying extra close attention to his hand so that he wouldn’t have to look at Mark.

Mark laughed again which only seemed to spur the younger man on, so he decided to pause the game for a moment to try and ease the rising tensions. 

“How’d you say it? Do lussget? ”

“Du lügst.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed at him from over his cards.

“You’re trying to distract me!” He accused. 

Mark put his cards down and threw his hands up. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t have an aneurysm in the middle of nowhere while playing a game of Uno.”

“Go fish!” Seb corrected.

“Same difference.” Mark groaned, already beginning to lose patience with the argument.

Sebastian, competitive as ever, leaned over to shove Mark’s cards back into his hand. 

“It’s your turn.” He paused before continuing with that stupid Cheshire grin. “Unless you’re afraid you’ll lose.”

The gall of it punched a laugh out of Mark.

“You’re the one with all the cards, mate. How do you not have a single set?”

“Because you’re cheating!”

Webber rolled his eyes, huffing another exasperated laugh through his nose. “You got any Jacks?”

Sebastian looked ready to explode. In a whirl, he slammed his cards down and folded his arms across his chest.

Mark raised a brow at the display. “Are we done?” He mused.

“We’ll finish in the morning. I’m tired.” The blonde declared, abandoning his cards on the floor and practically throwing himself onto the bed. 

Silently, Mark bit back a laugh and set his cards aside. It was getting late anyway. He could feel a yawn building up somewhere in his chest, so with the utmost care, he tossed a few more logs onto the fire and wandered over to the bed. Sebastian, the little shit, was sprawled out in the center with his eyes closed, but there was just the tiniest twitch to his lip that let Mark know the bastard was still awake and fighting like hell not to laugh. 

With a grin of his own, Mark reached down and picked Sebastian up like he weighed nothing. The blonde let out a high pitched yelp and floundered, trying to escape his teammate's grip, but before he could make any real progress, Mark unceremoniously dumped him back down onto the side of the bed. 

“Was zur Hölle?!” Seb shouted at him, but Mark just calmly slid into bed beside him. When he didn’t get an answer, Sebastian poked him hard in the side drawing a hiss out of the older man. [What the hell?!]

“What the hell was that for?!” Mark asked, rubbing his side.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t sleep with me?” 

Mark raised a brow. “Excuse me?” 

“Before, you said-” and honestly, Sebastian should be tried in a court of law for his crimes against Australia because in the most godawful accent he’s ever heard, Seb repeats back to him what he had said the day before, “I’m not sleeping in this bed with you!

“Yeah, well that was before our nice little shack turned into an icebox.” Mark shoots back, sliding under the covers. He can practically feel Sebastian’s eyes on him, but for the sake of his sanity, he chooses to ignore him. 

After a while, a comfortable silence settled across the room, and really, that should have been Mark’s first clue that something was about to ary. 

It’s the faintest brush at first, something that could have been written off as an accident if Sebastian didn’t repeat the motion barely five seconds later. Ever so slowly, Seb had inched himself closer and closer until he was practically hovering next to Mark. He was so close that Mark could feel the heat radiating off of him, so that’s why it wasn’t hard to reach a hand up and shove the kid back over to his side of the bed. 

“You’re taking up all the space!” Sebastian whined, sitting up so that he could glare down at Mark.

Mark kept his eyes closed. “Yeah, Seb. That’s what happens when you’re not the size of a mouse. You take up space.”

Suddenly, Seb’s hands were on him trying to shove him over. Fortunately, the kid was as strong as he looked so Mark barely moved. Unfortunately, it was super fucking annoying. 

“You’re not winning this one, Sebi.” Mark snorted, finally cracking his eyes open to watch his teammate fail miserably at trying to roll him over. 

“I will! I always win!” Sebastian huffed, putting what had to be his entire body weight behind a particularly hard shove. To his credit, he did manage to move Mark over a little with the push, but that was all it took for the older man to lose patience with this little game.  

In one motion he had caught Sebastian’s hands and pinned them down to the bed. Of course, Seb instantly tried to wiggle free, but Mark was having none of it so he rolled over and used his body weight to keep the blonde down. 

Sebastian, ever persistent, continued to struggle for a few seconds, but when Mark pressed him further into the mattress the kid let out a squeak and went stark still. At first, Mark thought he had somehow managed to knock some sense into that thick head of his, but when he shifted to get a better grip on the blonde, he felt something poke into his hip.

Sebastian was hard.

A realization that should have made him scramble away, but with the red hue quickly licking up Sebastian’s features, he pressed in closer, drawing a gasp from the younger man. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Mark asked, his voice coming out meaner than he meant it to. 

Sebastian looked like he might cry again but that didn’t stop him from bucking his hips up into Mark’s. The friction, and the admittedly tempting picture beneath him, was enough to get his own blood rushing south, but he wasn’t about to let Seb off that easy.

With a bit of effort, he was able to move Sebastian’s wrists to one hand and move the other down to still the younger man’s hips. Seb let out a frustrated noise and fought against Mark’s grip, but just like before, Mark was able to hold him down with ease.

“Come on, Sebi. Use your words. Don’t tell me you’re already so worked up that you can’t speak.” 

“Fuck you!” Sebastian spat up at him, but when Mark slid his hand over to palm him through his ridiculous looking pajama pants, Seb’s mouth fell open with a gentle gasp. 

“You’re a rude little shit, you know that?” 

Sebastian tried to glare up at him defiantly, but the fight was being pulled from his body with every gentle caress of Mark’s hand. His eyes fluttered close and he was biting his lip hard enough that the skin was beginning to turn white and swell. He looked like a dream. 

“There you are,” Mark soothed. “There’s that good boy I always hear about.”

Sebastian keened at the praise, his chest rising and falling like he had just run a marathon. “Mark, please! You have to- I want.”

The way he begged pulled Mark in. All Sebastian ever did was want. He was like this insatiable beam of light dead set on consuming everything he touched. A supernova. 

“What do you want?” Mark asked. He could feel himself slipping. 

Sebastian shivered, opening his eyes just enough to capture Mark’s attention again. “Want you to touch me.” He breathed. 

Mark squeezed him again over his clothes, his thumb playing at the wet spot that was beginning to dampen the fabric of Seb’s fleece pants. “Like this?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

Sebastian closed his eyes, whining high in his throat as he frantically shook his head. 

“Want you inside- Mark, please! I need you to, bitte! Bitte!” 

It was tempting. Fuck, it was tempting. Mark was practically blind with need at the prospect, but somehow his desire to make Sebastian squirm won out.

“What if I don’t want to, hm? It’s not always about what you want, Seb.” Mark teased, laying his palm flat against Sebastian's clothed cock, smiling when he felt the kid buck wildly up into his hand. 

For a moment, he thought he wasn’t going to get a response but then Sebastian huffed and frowned up at him. It would have been disconcerting if Seb hadn’t been actively trying to get himself off.

“You want to!” Sebastian insisted boldly. “I’ve seen the way you look at me!”

“And how’s that?”

“Like you can’t decide whether you want to hit me or fuck me.” 

Mark’s jaw tightened minutely at the statement. There had certainly been times he’d wanted to throttle Sebastian, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t pictured his teammate on his knees more than a few times, but it wasn’t a truth he was expecting to have thrown in his face.

He must have paused for longer than he thought because a high pitched whine pulled him back to reality. 

“I didn’t bring any lube, mate” Mark realized suddenly. There was plenty they could do without it, but then Sebastian was wrenching himself free. Maybe he had changed his mind?

“Here.” The blond said before digging his hand into the bedside table and shoving a small bottle into Mark’s hand.

Mark sat there stunned for a moment before a laugh bubbled out of him. “You brought lube to a cabin in the middle of nowhere?” He asked in amused disbelief.

“What else was I supposed to do for a week?” 

Mark laughed again, but then Sebastian was kicking off his pants and the sound died in his throat. 

Seb’s cock was dark red, already leaking onto his stomach as he settled back down. Mark had half the mind to take it into his mouth. It was small enough that it would have been easy, but as Sebastian pulled his knees up, the idea drifted away. 

Mark squeezed a bit of lube onto his fingers and carefully brought them to rest right where Sebastian wanted them. The blonde hissed at the sudden chill but eventually relaxed enough for Mark to slowly work a finger inside. 

“Bottle felt light,” Mark said, pointedly looking down at Sebastian. “You have some fun after locking me out?”

Sebastian flushed, confirming his suspicions.

“And just who were you thinking about while I was shivering my arse off in the cold, hm?” Mark asked, slowly beginning to work in another finger. Sebastian was already trying to rock himself back in time with Mark’s movements.

“Jenson.” Finally came the blonde's cheeky answer.

Mark shifted to change the angle of his wrist until he could meanly press into that spot he knew would shut the kid up. Sebastian’s head snapped back with a gasp as Mark practically dug his fingers into sensitive tissue.
“Didn’t quite catch that, mate.”

“Mark!” Sebastian choked out. “Fuck! I was thinking of you- Scheiße!”

Mark chuckled, working in a third finger. Sebastian looked like he was on another planet. Eyes unfocused, skin flushed. His lip was quivering with every other breath, but still, he managed to reach up and dig his fingers into Mark’s bicep. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He prompted, but Sebastian looked close to tears.

“Fuck- More, Mark! Please, need you inside!” Sebastian begged, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Mark couldn’t deny him even if he tried.

Slowly, so as not to hurt him, Mark pulled his fingers free. The blonde squirmed below him at the loss but quickly settled when he saw Mark reaching over towards the bedside table. 

After he nabbed the spare condom from his wallet, Mark shoved his pants down and gave his cock a quick few strokes before attempting to open the wrapper. It took him a second to rip the foil with his lube slick fingers, but once he got it, he rolled it on and lined himself up.

Carefully, he pushed inside, watching in awe as Sebastian's head pitched back and the air left his lungs. He could feel Seb’s fingers digging bruises into his shoulders, so he slowed down to give him time to adjust. Apparently, that wasn’t the right call though because Sebastian’s legs almost immediately flew around him to urge him forward.

“Don’t stop!” Sebastian gasped, his eyes flying open like he was trying to convince Mark.

“Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” Mark soothed, placing a firm hand on Sebastian’s hip when he felt the blonde try and close the distance himself.

Eventually, he was able to fully work himself inside, and fuck Sebastian felt good. He was so tight and sensitive. Every little movement drew out a new sound that Mark would have sworn came right out of a wet dream. He had to bite the inside of his cheek just to keep still. 

“Move,” Sebastian eventually begged, barely above a whisper. 

“What?”

“Move, fuck! Please, Mark, you have to-” Mark cuts him off with an experimental roll of his hips. When Sebastian doesn’t wince, he pulls almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward again, drawing a loud moan out of the younger man.

They find a rhythm quickly. Mark desperately fucking into Sebastian, like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and Sebastian using all his strength to meet Mark halfway. It doesn't take them long before they’re both panting and clawing at each other for purchase.

In the chaos, Sebastian managed to work a hand between them to feverishly jerk himself off. Tears streamed down his face as he leaned into the pleaser. When Sebastian’s pace falters, Mark is quick to take over.

Predictably, Sebastian is first to cross the finish line, his body tensing up as a silent cry falls from his lips. Mark isn’t too far behind though, especially not with all the little noises still tumbling out of Sebastian. 

The feeling is indescribable, but the sight beneath him is even better. Sebastian, messy and blissful. His breathing is still ragged as Mark pulls out and flops next to him on the bed, feeling boneless. 

For a peaceful moment, Mark just lets himself lie there and soak up the aftershocks, but eventually, when the cold begins to sink into his limbs again, he forces himself to get up and grab a towel from the bathroom.

Sebastian’s already knocked out by the time Mark’s wiped him clean, so without thinking too much about it, Mark slides into bed beside him again and pulls the covers over the both of them. They could talk in the morning.