The end of the year
“What?” Cisca screeched.
“Are you sure?” Adam asked.
“See, I told you we could have bought something blue!” Daniel said to Nicole.
“Two boys, one girl!” Oscar repeated. They all sat on the living room floor, wrapping paper around them.
“And which one of them is going to be called Daniel?” Daniel asked with his signature smile.
“Adam’s little brother.” Adam laughed with him and Cisca shook her head. Adam tried to fist bump Daniel, but Oscar smacked his hand away.
“Neither one of our sons is going to be called Adam or Daniel.” Oscar said sternly.
“Any chance for a daughter Danielle then?” Daniel didn’t give up, earning another mad look from Oscar.
“How about Nolan?” Lando asked in their nest at night, stroking Oscar’s belly. It had grown huge.
“How about no. Maybe Marcus?”
“Hmmm, how do you like Samuel?”
“No, that’s Alex’ new asshole boyfriend’s name.”
“Alex’s new asshole boyfriend?”
“Yeah, I don’t like that guy. I met them by accident the other day, he just felt … off.”
“Off?”
“I can’t really explain it, he just … I don’t know. Gave me a bad feeling. He was … bossy, but not in a sassy way, it seemed like he was ordering him around and like … he just felt … not good. The Christmas special is running great, by the way, we beat the estimates by 20%.”
“You talk about so many things at the same time.”
“Yeah, I’m an omega. I can multi-task. How about Isabelle?”
“Oh, I like that one.” Lando said “And I like James. I know it’s a simple one, but I like it.”
“It is a nice one. Let’s take that into the inner circle.”
George wrote another message to Lance. ‘Hope you’re having a good day. Does it snow where you are?’ Lance hadn’t answered any of his messages. One message every day. A call on Sundays as well. He didn’t answer, the internet didn’t say anything about him. No reports, no photos, no interviews, well one was published, but he knew that Lance did the interview and photoshoot in November already. Christmas was over. He had been with Toto and Suzy, as it was their tradition. He had brought each of them a gift, but asked not to receive any, which they respected. 21 days since the final. 21 days since he had seen Lance, 21 days since he had heard him, felt him, loved him. Not a word. Not a message. Nothing. He could be dead and he wouldn’t even know. Then a thought flashed through his head and he dialled a number.
“Now how did I get the honour to talk to you, Mr. Russell?”
“Hi Charles, how are you doing?”
“Really? You called me to ask me how I’m doing?”
“Why not?”
“Okay, I’m really well. I’m freshly filled by my boyfriend, his daughter is with her grandmother today and he’s about to satisfy all my needs again. Now why are you interrupting my love session?”
“Ew, Charles really.”
“You asked, I answered.”
“Good point. Where is Lance?” George asked and it was silent “Charles?”
“Why do you ask?” Charles asked back.
“Because I want to know.”
“He’s alive and well.” Charles stated stiffly.
“Wow, you are really helpful, you know that.”
“You’re welcome.” Charles said and George heard a laugh.
“Are you on speaker?” George asked.
“Well, yes, I … didn’t really have a hand free, so Max helped.”
“You know, no, I’m not going to ask about that part. Now, where is Lance?”
“Safe and happy. I’m not saying anything else.”
“Why not?”
“Because … he explicitly asked me not to say anything, okay? And yes, I’m going to tell him that you called me and asked, because things like that always come out at some point and I have no desire for that to come out at the dinner table” Charles talked faster and faster, letting out a moan “when our parents are there.”
“Are you having sex right now?” George asked, somewhere between shocked and disgusted.
“Well, Clinton wouldn’t … CALL it THAT. He doesn’t believe anything else than, oh God, traditional things are sex.” Charles voice got higher.
“You’re crazy.” George said and hung up. His phone rang soon after.
“Hi George, it’s Meg.”
“Hi Meg, how are you doing?” George asked surprised. Meg was the mother of his ex-girlfriend Carmen.
“I’m alright, I just have a short question, did you hear from Carmen lately?”
“No, I didn’t is everything okay?”
“Well, yes, it’s probably nothing. She wanted to come for Christmas but then suddenly texted she has to work and now she doesn’t answer, only texting that she’s busy and stuff like that.”
“Oh, okay, well, I’m sorry, I haven’t talked to her since we broke up, but I promise to tell you if I hear something.”
“Alright, thank you anyway, George.”
“Of course, Meg, and I’m sure she’s fine.” George said before hanging up.
“Oh my God” Charles moaned loudly, pulling on his restraints “You’re the devil.” He said to Max.
“Oh, is someone getting cocky now? Is someone not obeying the rules?” Max whispered into his ear. Charles was bound do the bed, hands above his head, legs spread, wearing a blindfold. He had agreed to trying the remote controlled vibrator, the blindfold having a role in their relationship for a couple of weeks. Max had asked if he should pick up the call from George and he said yes, not thinking that a vibrator would have this big impact on his speech. That Max would really turn it up this high, almost letting him orgasm while still being on the call.
“I’m not getting cocky.” Charles said quickly, breathing heavily and trying to hold back his orgasm, the vibrator relentlessly stimulating him. He pulled on the restraints, his body wanting to curl together.
“Really? Are you sure about that?” Max groaned into his ear “You shouldn’t get rewarded if you can’t tell me the truth.” Max whispered and suddenly pulled the vibrator out of Charles, letting him groan in frustration.
“You grrrrrh you were right, I was cocky, I shouldn’t have been, I’m sorry, please put it back in, please let me come, please!” Charles begged, speaking rapidly.
“Oh no, I won’t let you get away this easily, baby.” Max chuckled against his ear and Charles let out a whine. Max sank down on top of him, stroking his face “This is the only reward you’re getting for now” he said and kissed him deep and slow. Max started kissing down his chest, little kisses down to Charles’ hip bone. Max knew Charles loved that spot. His hip bone and then to the inside. His weak spot. Max pressed a kiss right in that spot, followed by a lick and another kiss. Charles moaned, his body fighting the restraints again. After what seemed like an eternity, Max kissed his way back up and over his face. His body was drenched in sweat, tears streaming from under his blindfold, desperate for his release “I’m going to fuck you now, baby. I want you to count” Max ordered and Charles whined “and when we reach one hundred strokes, then you can come, understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Charles said and felt Max entering him roughly “One” he groaned. The one hundred couldn’t come soon enough. Charles felt like he would explode at any moment, feeling Max entering him over and over, barely making it through the seventies and eighties. The hundred and first was his downfall, everything fell away, he felt everything and anything again, fell into subspace, letting Max carry him through it. His shaking body, now embraced in Max’s arms, still being taken by him, keeping his thrusts fast and hard, letting Charles feel everything and then some before releasing. Letting himself go, filling Charles up to the brim, breaking down on top of him. Max took some deep breaths, then released the knot on Charles wrists, pulling slowly out of him. He crawled down to release him from his other restraints, laying down next to Charles and pulling him into his arms, softly pulling off the blindfold. He cuddled and kissed him softly until Charles came back from his subspace, cuddling him even more after.
His home. His nest. His comfort. A huge nest on a kingsize bed, more than a dozen blankets spread out, framed in by roped and slung together scarfs, blankets, pillowcases, bedsheets and other fabrics he had found on his travels and deemed perfect for his nest. The outline was lined with pillows, building some kind of wall around him. He had green, cream and brown scarfs hung from the ceiling, giving the feeling of being in the woods. Fairy lights here and there, little accents of gold. He had built this nest since he was sixteen, moving into this villa in the Monaco mountains. He had his own appartement in here. If he would want, he could lock the door down the hallway. He would still have his kitchen, living room, two bedrooms and two baths. He knew that none of this was normal.
His head wandered, the scenes of his night with George replaying in his head, in front of his eyes. And then George fell asleep. Right next to him. An arm over his chest. They hadn’t been drunk or anything. George had cuddled into his side, and then it came clear to Lance. He had done it. He had slept with George. Ripped down and destroyed the walls he had built up around himself. This couldn’t be happening. He looked at George, his lips slightly open and breathing calmly. A little sweat still on his forehead, letting his hair stick. He would wake up and then what? Tell him they were friends? That this was a mistake? That they wouldn’t even be friends? That he wanted more? In the highly unlikely case of George wanting more, he wouldn’t be able to do that. A rushed thing like this? George didn’t realize that Lance had been wet already. He had grabbed for the lube, thinking Lance was an alpha. Taken his ass, thinking he was an alpha. It was hard and amazing. But maybe he just did that out of habit. From Alex. Alex. The man George probably really wanted. The man that had broken his heart only three months prior. He had thought about him most likely anyway.
His head drove him mad. He had to leave. Whatever George would say when he woke up, it would result in Lance getting hurt. Either because he would have to deny George or because George would deny him. He couldn’t hear him say that. He wouldn’t survive it. So he had left, leaving only a note. It wasn’t the best thing to do, but it was the only thing he could think about in that moment. He had taken one last look at George, still asleep on the bed, his disgustingly amazing, lean sixpack on display, his sharp jawline framing his handsome face. Thankfully, those huge, baby blue eyes were closed. The eyes that could make him stop thinking and do anything.
He heard rapid steps coming closer, a kid running through the house and towards him. He saw a little head peaking around the corner, light brown hair, blue eyes, wide smile with dimples.
“Hey little troublemaker” he greeted Arthur, still in his pyjamas.
“Hi Lancy!” Arthur said.
“Come on, what’s up?”
“Can I jump in?” Arthur asked, pointing at the nest.
“If you can jump that high” Lance said and Arthur nodded eagerly, taking a couple steps back before running towards the nest and jumping up, trying to get in. His upper body made it, his hips getting stuck on the fabric barrier, feet up in the air. Arthur let out a squeal and Lance gave him an extra push, getting him into the nest. “Now, why are you really here?”
“Can we watch Frozen?” Arthur asked, smiling innocently, blinking his eyes.
“What did your mum say?”
“The door is still closed.” Arthur said.
“Okay” Lance said.
“Okay?” Arthur asked happily.
“Okay, let’s watch it. English or French?”
“English. I need to learn.” Arthur said, laying down with his head towards the tv at the end of the nest, his chin in his hands.
“You need to learn?” Lance asked. He knew that Pascal raised him bilingual, but they mostly spoke French.
“Most peoples in racing don’t speak French.”
“People. People already is the multiple, there is no s at the end.” Lance explained, taking the remote and the oatmeal cookies from the nightstand.
“Okay … most people in racing don’t speak French.” Arthur said again.
“Amazing. Here have some cookies.” Lance said, holding the box towards Arthur while turning on Frozen.
That’s how Pascale found them an hour later. In Lance’s nest, side by side on their stomachs, chin resting on their hands, snacking on oatmeal cookies while watching Frozen. She asked to enter the nest as well, laying next to Lance.
“Are you okay?” she asked lowly.
“I will be.” He simply said. He didn’t tell her everything, but she was a mum. She probably knew everything before she even asked. He had entered his dad’s plane in Abu Dhabi, looking down, not saying a thing. Wearing a long-sleeved shirt, cap and sunglasses. His dad had wanted to ask something but Pascale had taken his hand and shaken her head. She had sat with him on the couch for the flight, Arthur and his dad at the table, doing some school work. The school had given Arthur Friday and Monday off, but he still had to do the work.
They celebrated New Years all over the world. Yuki with his family in Japan, Pierre and Kika in France, Logan and Esteban in Switzerland, Lando and Oscar with both of their families in England, George with Toto, Suzy and Jack in England. Charles, Max, Penelope and Lance celebrated together with Charles’ family and Lawrence in Monaco. Nico, Liam, Ollie, Lewis, Daniel, Kevin and Guanyu were with their families in their home countries and Valtteri celebrated with Tiffany in Finland. Fernando and Sebastian on their farm in Austria, Alex and Sam in Monaco. Carlos alone in his apartment in Madrid.