Formula One - One Shots

𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 ~~ fuck me in that ferrari

cw: explicit work, inappropriate use of a Ferrari

'🇫🇷'🇲🇨'

Pierre always liked Charles. He had been such a constant in his life, always there in the good and bad moments. He was an everlasting pillar of happiness, reassurance and hope. Pierre would be always grateful of having such a friend like Charles.

Yet, the French driver would be lying if he said he didn't want more. Who wouldn't? Charles was the embodiment of everything he could have ever dreamed of. A body chiselled in marble, in the image of a Greek god, a face worth of a model, and such deep, understanding, absolutely sinful eyes.

Each time Pierre saw his best friend, he felt that irresistible and unholy pull toward him. He wanted to love him, worship him, make sweet love to him, but also make sure nobody would ever hurt him, protect him in his arms. Pierre wanted so badly to see Charles absolutely falling apart between his fingers, happy tears in his eyes as they joined the sky together.

Yet, the Frenchman was pretty sure the Monégasque didn't feel the same way. Charles was a social butterfly, going from friends to other friends, lover to lover, and Pierre couldn't be jealous. Who wouldn't want a piece of Charles for themselves? He learned to mend his heart time after time, learned to be there for Charles when the latter would cry after getting dumped. He would never put his feelings before their friendship, he made himself that promise years ago, when Charles got his first girlfriend.

'🇫🇷'🇲🇨ˊ

"Wanna explore the city?" The Monégasque asked one night. "I heard Montréal is beautiful right now."

Charles was leaning against Pierre's hotel room's door. The latter just shrugged. It's not like he had better things to do. He hadn't had anything planned except sleeping and maybe playing a bit on his PlayStation, but Charles was more important. He was always more important.

"Nah, let's go," the Frenchman answered, getting on the bed he had been laying on.

They got into the hotel's lobby, and then towards the parking. Pierre didn't know what to expect, especially since Charles was seemingly so content with himself. The Frenchman felt something was afoot, but he couldn't figure out what.

They arrived in the subterranean car park, and the Monégasque went towards a beautiful red car. Pierre followed him, thinking it was some kind of supercar. Yet. when he got closer enough to truly see her, his jaw dropped.

He was in awe in front of its sleek curves, and deliciously smooth body. He let his hand run on the car, and he couldn't repress a shiver. The "Ferrari" logo at the front was nagging him, standing out like the main jewel on a crown. The light was of poor quality, but he could still see the magnificent paint job of the car. The metallic red was ecstatic.

"Do you like it?" Charles asked, a devilish smile on his face.

"Do I like it? Putain, Charles, I love it!" Pierre answered, still admiring that beauty.

"You wanna turn it on?" The Monégasque smirked, and Pierre let the innuendo pass.

He gladly took the keys, opened the door, and almost jumped into it. The start button was just there, he just had to press it. Yet, Pierre felt a little nervous. It was an expensive car, probably lenses by Charles' team to him. They wouldn't like him driving it.

He looked back at his best friend, and the latter gave him a thumb up. To hell with assurances and laws, Pierre thought, if Charles said it was OK, then he will make everything he could for this to be OK.