“Good run today,” Rafael says, welcoming Julien back to their shared driver’s room. “Just watch out for?—”
“Six and ten. Yeah, I know.” Julien strips off his Nomex shirt with a grunt. “I want to beat Friedrich tomorrow.”
“Most drivers want to win.”
“Of course I want towin,” Julien says, punctuating the word by flinging his shirt at the ground. “But I want to race Friedrich so hard he doesn’t forget me. He needs to know I’m a threat, not just some randomguywarming your seat.”
“Won’t be easy, since he’s starting on pole.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Julien almost got pole too.
“Both Sam and Thomas are starting between you and him.”
Julien hesitates, but recovers. “Have to beat everyone in order to win.”
“That’s the spirit.” Rafael looks really smug for someone who isn’t actually affected by the outcome of the sprint race. “Don’t forget our deal, Mr. P4.”
Julien forgot their deal.
He’s P4.
Ugh.
“It’s just a sprint.” Julien pushes his long johns down and he feels extra-bare. “Do you want half a blowjob?”
“Depends which half. Lengthwise? Widthwise? I’d love to watch you suck only the left side of my cock. Could be fun.”
“I was thinking timewise, actually.” Julien stands, and Rafael’s eyes drift from his naked chest down to his black briefs. “Bail before you come. Could be fun.”
“After I made an effort to eat more fruit? You’re a cruel man.”
Rafael falls back with a huff, his lap open and welcoming. His sling clings on for dear life where it digs into the muscle of his good shoulder and around his chest.
Some men don’t wear bondage well—they either fight it too much or beg for it until they lose all self-respect. Rafael falls into a secret third category of delectable men who are inconvenienced by the restriction but accept their fate anyway. It shows flexibility, vulnerability, a willingness to follow.
Julien is drawn to it like a moth to the flame.
He likes a man who eats more fruit just in case he gets a chance to come. A man who whines so prettily when he’s edged, instead of lashing out. A man who makes a deal, and slinks back when Julien reneges on it.
He wants Rafael carnally, but that doesn’t change the fact that Julien still despises giving blowjobs.
Julien saunters over, and Rafael peaks an eye open. Slowly—slow enough to stop—Julien lifts a knee and plants it on one side of Rafael’s legs. The other follows, hugging the larger man’s thighs.
Despite Julien’s nearly naked form, Rafael’s silent stare remains fixated on his face.
Whatever works for him.
Julien lowers himself until he’s sitting on the older driver’s lap. After no reaction, he scoots until they’re pressed against each other, connected at their clothed groins.
From this angle, Rafael has to look up at him. His dark eyes catch the lights of the room and shine. His awe is beautiful, even in the harsh lighting of the driver’s room.
“I don’t like giving blowjobs,” Julien says, lowly.
“We made a deal,” Rafael whispers back.
“A blowjob is a small-cock activity.” Julien rocks forward and the Brazilian sucks in a breath. “Do you have a small cock?”
Rafael’s head sways from side to side.
