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Franco doesn't even know how he ended up here, face pressed into silk sheets, his eyes rolling into the back of his head every time he's pushed into the bed further, feeling the springs underneath bounce him back up.
It started with him in a bar with Alex, chatting away about the race before Alex started mentioning Logan a little too much to Franco's liking, staring off into space as he mumbled under his breath about his previous teammate, that much he knows. But he was laughing otherwise, with Fernando, with Lewis, happier than ever after that beautiful race result in Baku.
The place was crowded but to Franco, one person stood out, sat at a far table, a grimace on his face.
He wasn't stupid, and he had seen all the videos across his feeds, of the older man looking at him like he wants to devour him whole, eye-fucking him while standing half a foot away from him.
All he wanted was to lighten up the mood, maybe get a laugh out of the Mexican. If not a confirmation.
So he had made his way over, intending on lifting the man's spirits, feeling sorry for him. Getting taken out a lap before the end while fighting for a podium must be so damn hard, especially when everyone uses it to deminish all your other accomplishments. Franco was dead set on making it better. One way or another.
"Hola."
Franco started, voice dropping as he went back to speaking Spanish, sitting beside the man and placing his drink down onto the table. Checo looked up at him and sighed, forcing a smile that didn’t last very long.
"Why aren't you celebrating?"
He asked, his tone sorrow but Franco knew he didn't mean it towards him, or at least hoped so.
"I am, just... wanted to come over and talk."
He shrugged, shifting closer to the Mexican, who almost immediately raised an eyebrow at him.
"What are you trying to do?"
Checo asked and Franco felt his face heat up at the sudden shift in tones. He shrugged again and leaned closer.
"...wanna make you feel better."
Franco responded frankly, moving one of his hands to Checo's thigh, expecting rejection because of the look on the man's face. But to his surprise, it stayed there, soon enveloped by Checo's.
"Don't start things you can't finish."
The older man mumbled and Franco chuckled.
"Who says I can't?"
Everything after that happened fast, way too fast. He was tugged out of the booth and dragged outside, then pushed inside a random taxi, hands all over him, his mouth finally connecting with Checo's in a dirty mess of teeth and spit.
And Franco loved it.
Checo ignored the driver clearing his throat at them, his fingers tangled in Franco's hair as he sucked and nipped at his neck, groaning when the younger man whimpered from the light sting on his scalp and throat.
It didn't take them long to arrive to the hotel, Checo tipping the driver generously, probably as an apology but also because he didn't want to bother with counting the bills.
He pulled Franco to the elevator that was thankfully empty, pressing him up against the mirrored wall and immediately slotting a leg between Franco's.
"Tell me you want this... just... just wanna make sure."
Checo panted against Franco's skin wetly, his fingers tracing lines underneath the boy's shirt, sending shivers down his spine.
"I want it... fuck I... I really really want it."
Franco whined unknowingly, clinging onto the older man.
And that was confirmation enough for Checo as he and Franco stumbled out of the elevator towards his room, clumsily pulling out his keycard and then entering. Checo slid his hands down the young driver's sides then around to his ass, pulling him close with a predatory smile.
"You said you wanna make me feel better?"
He purred and Franco just nodded, eyes locked onto Checo's face, heart pounding in his chest from excitement. Checo took his hand carefully and pulled him further into the room, sitting into a big armchair by the bed and letting Franco stand between his legs.
He grabbed his phone, quickly putting on a song Franco recognized, making his insides twist. Then, Checo looked back up at him.
"Dance for me, mi cielo."
He smirked and Franco stared for a moment, gulping. Dance? He didn't expect this, truth be told he didn't expect to get this far in the first place but this wasn't a part of what he thought could happen-
"I don't know how."
He mumbled, standing stiffly in front of the older man, hands itching at his sides. Checo chuckled.
"Just move."
He said, as if that was what Franco was confused about. The younger man rolled his eyes.
"That's easy to say but-"
Franco yelped, not finishing his sentence as he was pulled into the other man's lap, his knees on each side of Checo's thighs. Checo bit his lower lip and restarted the music, tossing the phone away and placing his hands on Franco's hips like they always belonged there.
"To the music, come on, I know you got it in you."
Checo's voice was barely above a whisper, gravely Spanish spilling from his mouth as he tugged Franco even closer, aligning their aching crotches together, giving them both the pleasure of delicious friction. The younger man mewled, trembling as he tried to sway his hips the way he had seen, or the way he knew his lovers usually liked -- though, those weren't lap-dances, but it wasn't that different.
Clothes or no clothes, it was similar enough.
Franco braced himself on Checo's shoulders, getting into a position where it wasn't hard for him to maintain balance. He already had no idea what he was doing, he didn't want to make himself look even more silly. He rocked his hips forward and back to the beat and then slowed as did the song, looking down at Checo, breathing ragged just from the sight alone.
"Like this...?"
Franco slowly rolled his hips, hands sliding down from Checo's shoulders to his chest, eyes hooded. He watched Checo's reactions, his cock twitching in his pants as the older man gripped his waist, head lolling back against the armchair, looking at him still as if his gaze was glued to him.
"Yeah... like that."
Checo uttered, his hands eagerly pushing the younger boy's shirt up and quickly off, wanting to see as much of him as possible. And Franco smiled faintly, the words and actions sending a shiver down his spine as he did it again, adopting the beat of the music into his movements better.
"Y-Yeah? You like that papi?"
Franco murmured, voice shaky but growing a sudden newfound confidence, making Checo's hips buck up as a reaction, a low growl escaping his throat.
"Keep talking like that and you won't have to worry about not knowing how to dance."
Franco grinned, moving his hips again, leaning down to Checo's ear.
"Maybe I want that."
He purred, feeling the other man's hands tighten their hold on him.
"Do you now?"
Checo chuckled, before gently pushing Franco off his lap but not giving time to properly stand before pushing him down onto the bed face first. Franco only huffed as he hit the sheets, eyes wide as he looked over his shoulder, seeing and feeling the Mexican eagerly pulling down his jeans along with his boxers, fully baring him, before doing the same to himself, kicking the offending articles away.
Franco waited patiently as Checo coated his fingers in lube he didn't even see being pulled out of anywhere, head already fuzzy.
"Relax."
The older man mumbled, rubbing the pads of the digits around at first before slowly inserting them, intending on stretching the boy as well as he could. And Franco let him do all that, because he was already achingly hard and leaking, the little friction making his head spin.
And maybe -- well, most definitely -- that's how he wound up here, in this position, this situation.
Checo didn't waste any time really, he prepped Franco properly, but gently, making sure he wouldn't get hurt, but as soon as he pushed inside him he began rabbiting his hips into him as if this is the last time he is ever getting laid.
"A-Ah- Oh- my- fucking- god-"
Franco is grinning, the feeling of getting stretched so damn good, joining all the other pleasant emotions from this weekend.
Checo's hand tangles in his hair and pulls, hard, making Franco's neck arch back and scalp tingle, eyes seeking Checo's while looking at him pretty much upside down.
Oh he likes this, he likes it a lot.
Checo's other hand wraps around his bared throat, holding him in place as his pace impossibly increases, his thrusts hard and rough, exactly the way Franco likes it. The younger man bites his lower lip, letting out little sounds with every push, body supported on quivering arms.
"Papi~"
Checo is breathless, the crease by his eyebrow prominent as he watches Franco with a hunger that feels so unfamiliar and yet welcoming it makes Franco shiver and clench around the Mexican.
"Yeah? You like that?"
Checo groans lowly, stilling inside of Franco with a heavy sigh, letting go of his head to squeeze the young boy's hips. He kneads the flesh under his palms, stretching Franco and slowly sliding in deeper with a grunt. Franco whimpers.
"Fuck... I don't wanna cum yet."
Checo mutters, taking a deep breath and spreading Franco's legs further, forcing his back into a deeper arch.
"But you're making it real fucking hard not to."
Franco lets out a little sob as he pushes back against Checo, his dick so hard it was almost painful, waiting for any chance possible to get its release. He yelps when Checo gives his ass a small warning smack, chuckling when the Argentinian whimpers. Slowly, he begins to move again, barely doing more than grinding into the younger driver.
Franco begins babbling, unsure of what he is saying at this point as he continously pushes back against Checo, demanding more.
The older driver moves his hands to grab onto Franco's, joining him in gripping the sheets as he slowly picks up his pace again, bracing himself on his knees, fucking into him while grunting and mumbling words that Franco can't make out either, some of it in English, some of it in Spanish.
"Y-Yeah- fuck, no, I can't hold it."
Checo groans and Franco just nods wordlessly, feeling his own cock jump at the suggestion of a release.
He whines, hoping the Mexican would understand what he wants; preferably a warm large hand on his dick -- just the thought makes him leak a little. The sound only makes Checo laugh, his fingers sliding down, just shy of where Franco wants them so badly.
"Ask..."
Franco sobs at the command, trying to make Checo touch him as he babbles.
"Please, papi, I need- I need it so bad it hurts, I wanna cum so bad~"
Checo groan loudly, wrapping his fingers around Franco and cursing under his breath.
"Y-Yeah- yeah-? Cum for me, hermoso, fuck."
Franco almost chokes on a sob, a simple buck of his hips back against Checo and a direct hit to his prostate being all it takes for him to cum all over the sheets beneath himself, body trembling as he mewls and whines into the pillows, riding his orgasm out with the Mexican still inside him.
It doesn't take very long for him to register Checo has stopped as well, ceasing all his movement, his cock pulsing inside of Franco, filling him up.
His hands are still gentle, sliding up Franco's outstretched arms, tracing over his shoulder blades, caressing every bump of his spine down to his lower back where he gently presses down.
"Good... God that felt so good, cariño.."
Checo huffs, carefully lifting Franco's hips and holding them in place before pulling out. He then sits back on his heels, sighing, his breathing still calming down as he watches Franco squirm, his release trickling out of the boy, rolling down the inside of a single trembling thigh.
"Shit... you're like a fucking painting."
Checo mumbles before gathering up all his leftover energy to push himself up and off the bed to get them both a towel, gentlemanly cleaning Franco off first before himself and tossing the soft rag off to the side.
He helps the Argentinian lay down, sighing.
"Don't bother getting dressed or leaving, um, you can stay... if you'd like."
He says to him, sitting down beside him, hands itching to touch Franco again, caress the young driver's skin, see his chest flutter underneath his fingertips, but he resists, opting to just watch.
Franco pauses and then smiles softly.
"Yeah... I don't think I could leave if I wanted to."
He jokes, seeing the Mexican's lips twitch into a smile as he nods, pulling a sheet over the other man's body as well as his own.