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F1 Flash Fic
Formula 1 Fanfic Prompts
End of Season Flashfic is go 
25th-Nov-2011 08:00 pm
F1 Flashfic


Quick reminder of the rules:

- Leave your prompts in the comments of this post - they can be one-liners, quotes, pics, videos, everything goes.

- Post fics in reply - any drivers, any pairings, any length

- Make a note of the pairing, rating and any warnings in the subject before you post any fic to make it easier for people to find fics they might like

- Fics don't have to be written specifically for the person leaving the prompt, but if you want to do so then check out the intros post to find their preferred pairings (and if you're joining us for the first time why not head over there and leave a comment so we can write something for you)

- Everyone please respect each others' differing opinions, so no bashing teams/drivers

- Have fun and get writing :D
Comments 
25th-Nov-2011 08:01 pm (UTC)
Celebrations
25th-Nov-2011 08:02 pm (UTC)
Chaperone
25th-Nov-2011 08:03 pm (UTC)
Things are going to get better
26th-Nov-2011 11:59 pm (UTC) - Felipe/Rob, PG
"Are you going to be okay?"

You look up at him. You really don't know if you are going to be okay, and that's exactly what you tell him. There's no point in acting like everything is fine around him - even if you try to hide what's really going on inside your head, he's going to notice something's off, and try to drag it out of you no matter what. You kind of want to pretend you are keeping it together better than you are, that you are not on the verge of crying, to avoid troubling him even more than you already have. But telling him things like this has become second nature to you, and keeping anything at all from him would feel strange and wrong - probably for the both of you. To not inconvenience him would be an inconvenience in and of itself, and you constantly find yourself stuck in a circle you still haven't figured out if it's good or bad.

"I don't know, Rob." you confess to him. Your voice is uneven and thick, and you have to clear your throat before you can add, "I just know I really want you to stay right now."

"That's alright, sunshine." he whispers, and strokes your back with a gentle touch. "I'm not going anywhere."

You just lean your head against his chest and hide your face in his shirt instead of saying anything. His words are comforting because you know they are true; he would never leave you. It makes you feel safe and secure in a world you never know how it's going to shift or turn from one moment to another.

He embraces you and holds you close. His chin is leaning against the top of your head, and you can feel the vibrations from his voice as he speaks.

"You are going to be okay, Felipe, because you are bloody brilliant." he tells you. His hold on you tightens as he confidently adds, "I'll make sure you'll be okay."

You believe him. He's going to make sure you're both okay, just like he always does.

The thought makes everything that little bit easier to deal with.
25th-Nov-2011 08:04 pm (UTC)
Didn't think it would be this way
25th-Nov-2011 08:06 pm (UTC)
25th-Nov-2011 08:08 pm (UTC)
1st-Dec-2011 08:05 pm (UTC) - felipe/rob pg

Normally Rob did not pay attention to the PR side of the team unless he was being dragged in for another of their stupid interviews or Felipe was chewing his ear off about the latest giraffe type model they had found for him to pose with. Which was not fair of them, Rob thinks to himself, because it looks ridiculous and then Rob has to suffer Felipe ranting about how ridiculous it is.

The team should be thinking of Rob before they agree to these things really.

Usually when Felipe is happy with the PR stuff, Rob is happy, and when Felipe is upset then Rob wants to shoot himself in the head. That is just how it works. Or how it used to work.

Until some fucking muppet decided that would be a good idea to give Felipe Massa a water pistol.

Now Rob, along with half the catering staff are soaked as a jeering Felipe chases Fernando around the Ferrari motor home while Stefano just stands there laughing about it. Big kids the lot of them. Rob would bet a year’s wages that it won’t be Stefano that is being chased around a hotel room while trying to calm down Felipe later.

The team really need to start thinking of Rob.
25th-Nov-2011 08:43 pm (UTC)
Mind-reader
26th-Nov-2011 01:07 am (UTC) - Felipe/Rob, sort of Felipe/?, PG-13 (no idea where this came from, just a bit of silliness XD) 1/2
Sometimes, Felipe thinks, it's a pain in the arse having a mind-reading boyfriend. Oh people always think it would be wonderful, a partner who always knows what you want, even before you know it yourself, but it's not that simple. They forget that there's a whole other side to it, that they can see the bad things as well as the good, that nothing is ever private.

Not that Felipe wants to keep secrets, nor is Rob one for looking in where he's not invited. No, he doesn't go looking, but apparently Felipe isn't the quietest of thinkers and Rob claims it doesn't count as snooping when he's mentally yelling it at him.

Take this morning for example.

~

Felipe suddenly crashes into consciousness when the other man throws back the covers and storms across the room, slamming his suitcase closed and dragging it towards the door. Felipe rubs his eyes, willing his brain to catch up and help him out here.

"Whu's wrong?"

Some of the annoyance leaves Rob's face when he sees Felipe's thoroughly confused expression. "Nothing, just a bit of trouble sleeping. Gonna go see if I can crash on Giuliano's couch, might be a bit quieter in there."

And without another word, he's gone.

It takes a second for Felipe to realise what he must have meant. The room is near silent, the faint noise of the traffic outside certainly not enough to disrupt anyone's sleep, so the disturbance must have come from somewhere else. Something most people can't hear. He concentrates, trying to remember what he might have been dreaming of, but the images seem just out of reach, brief flashes disappearing before he can work out what they might be.

Sighing, he pulls himself up out of bed and makes himself a coffee, settling down in front of the tv to provide some background noise. His mind is working too hard to even attempt to get back to sleep.

Slender fingers trail down his sides, tracing over his ribs and making him squirm and arch up against the hard body above him. Soft lips drag along his jawline up to his ear, tongue drawing wet, mindless patterns over his skin before sharp, unexpected teeth nip at his earlobe. His eyes fly open as he reaches up to tangle fingers into those soft brown curls...

Not Rob. That was definitely not Rob.

~


Edited at 2011-11-26 01:08 am (UTC)
25th-Nov-2011 09:05 pm (UTC)
Scared and determined
25th-Nov-2011 09:07 pm (UTC)
I will walk and I will not see you
26th-Nov-2011 12:32 pm (UTC) - Hamilton/Massa, Singapore (PG)
I climb out the car and walk away in disgust, gloves and balaclava stripped off and thrown defiantly into my helmet. Not for the first time this year, though this is something I'd never admit, I catch a glimpse of red out the corner of my eye. An arm waves, a gesture to speak.

I will walk and I will not see you.

I climb on the weighing platform irritably, ignoring the blaring German anthem echoing around the circuit, echoing deafeningly in my skull, a reminder I cannot ignore. The flash of red reappears as I stalk off and this time I see your face, confused expression and big, brown, hurt eyes. This is a reminder I can ignore.

I will walk and I will not see you.

I hand my helmet to my PA and saunter into the lions den, jutting my chin in a display of defiance and arrogance, a small defence against the words they use as weapons, pen mightier than the sword and all that bullshit. What the frick do they know anyway? Dutifully, I lean into the words being whispered into my ear by my PA, dully nodding at what should and should not be said, reminding me in clipped tones that have grown ever sharper this season of the price of saying the wrong thing. I mentally prepare my script and launch into my first interview.

This time, I do not see the flash of red. Instead, I feel the sting of your hand on my back, hear the words in accented English, dripping with sarcasm, "Good job, huh? Very good job!" I spin around and spit back my reply, a warning, but he is already walking away and he doesn't see me.

***

I know he will follow and I can hear his footsteps speeding after me as I head for my motorhome. He is angry and he grabs my arm, pushing me against a wall and glares with eyes blazing and a mouth full of venom. He asks as I know he would, "What the fuck was that for? What the fuck were you doing?" My reply is short but it is powerful as it threatens to push him off his self proclaimed pedestal and drag him back into the real world as he relinquishes me and I walk away.

"You will see me."
25th-Nov-2011 09:13 pm (UTC)
Losing your cool (bonus marks if it's on pit wall) ;)
25th-Nov-2011 09:14 pm (UTC)
It may change your life
25th-Nov-2011 09:15 pm (UTC)
The night will pass
25th-Nov-2011 09:37 pm (UTC)
testing stamina
25th-Nov-2011 09:37 pm (UTC)
hidden messages
26th-Nov-2011 08:58 pm (UTC) - Nico/Adrian, Jenson, PG-13
Nico’s phone chimed again and Jenson was sure he wasn’t imagining it this time. Nico slid the phone from the table, angling it carefully away from Jenson’s line of sight as he read the message. Jenson watched him carefully, the way his bottom lip slid thoughtlessly to rest between his teeth, the way he shuffled slightly in his seat.

“Who is it?” Jenson asked, taking a sip of his drink and trying his best to sound casual.

“No one,” Nico replied, staring intently at the phone as he tapped in a reply.

“People only ever say no one when it’s someone,” Jenson stated a tad too triumphantly.

“A friend,” Nico amended with a shrug. “You don’t know him.”

“Oh, that old chestnut,” Jenson said.

Nico didn’t respond, concentrating on his phone. With a sigh he placed it back down on the table, picking up his drink and sipping it while he stared distractedly into the distance, his mind clearly elsewhere. Jenson smiled, draining his own glass before holding it up to Nico.

“Your round, isn’t it?”

“Hmm?” Nico asked, blinking as he looked back over at Jenson. “Oh, yes, okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

He got to his feet, leaving his phone sitting there on the table just like Jenson guessed he would. The second Nico was out of sight, he lunged for it, going straight to the inbox. His eyebrows climbed up his face as he scanned over the string of messages that left literally nothing to the imagination and then he felt that cheeky grin spreading over his face. He didn’t know Nico had it in him.

“What are you doing?!” Nico all but screeched, slamming the drinks down on the table and grabbing his phone from Jenson’s hand. He looked at the screen and then sat down with a defeated pout.

“That’s some filthy fucking language, Britney,” Jenson said, unable to stop himself grinning.

“It’s private,” Nico said defensively.

“Oh, and I do know him by the way,” Jenson said breezily, reaching for his drink. “Your friend. Adrian.”

“Fuck off,” Nico told him. “You shouldn’t have looked.”

“Couldn’t resist,” Jenson shrugged unapologetically. “I feel a bit dirty now actually. Knowing that I’ve been sat here while you’ve been carrying on like that with him.”

Nico was blushing crimson now, fiddling with his phone in an obvious attempt to not look Jenson in the eye.

“Why are you sitting here with me anyway?” Jenson asked. “He sounds pretty eager to have you back in that hotel room. My girl sent me a message like that, I’d go fucking running.”

Nico smiled slightly, a shy but undeniably naughty smile, and he dared to look up at Jenson through his lashes. “Is sometimes better if you wait,” he replied quietly. “And Adrian gets very...” he looked back down, “...grateful.”

“Jesus,” Jenson muttered, shaking his head. “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out. Lucky little fuck. So I’m, what? A tool in your foreplay?”

Before Nico had a chance to respond, his phone chimed again. Nico read the message, smiling openly now and looking very pleased with himself.

“How much longer you gonna keep the poor guy waiting?” Jenson asked.

“Would be a shame to waste these drinks,” Nico replied, giving Jenson a wicked look.
26th-Nov-2011 12:20 am (UTC)
"(because) I love you but you don't even care."
26th-Nov-2011 09:37 am (UTC) - one-sided Christian/Seb, PG
Christian used to think that smile was just for him, but he can see more clearly now. Three years and nothing’s ever happened. Nothing’s ever going to happen. Seb smiles at everyone like that.

Christian’s not even sure he’s a mentor anymore. He’s just the boss, the one you keep sweet. Seb’s not to know that he’s playing with Christian’s heart, getting his hopes up, every time he hugs him after a race, so grateful, like they’re in this together.

He says thank you and Christian stupidly thought it was personal. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for bringing me to this team and bringing out my potential. Thank you for being there, being someone I can count on, someone to ground me.

That bond, it’s all in Christian’s head though. Thank you for being one of the people in the team that helped me win. That’s the honest version that Christian can admit to himself now. One of the people. He has no special place in Seb’s heart.

Christian gave Seb so much more than a car, a chance. His investment in Seb went much deeper than money and time and resources. If he’s honest, he only ever wanted Seb to win to give back a little of what Seb had given him: that feeling, that elation. He thought it would bring them closer together if they shared in that. And maybe a tiny, dark part of Christian can admit now that he thought it would make Seb owe him.

But Seb’s just won his second World Championship and they’ve never been further apart. Christian put his life, his heart, on hold, built a rift in his team that might never be repaired, and it was all for nothing. Seb smiles at everyone like that. Christian has never been special.
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