Work Text:
Lance was already bordering on getting into subspace after the race. The adrenaline had only just started to wear off, but the heat in his body had settled into a dull, constant thrum. He didn’t need Fernando to be the first to speak—just the weight of his presence was enough. Sitting there on the edge of Fernando’s lap, legs spread open, he could feel every breath the older driver took against his neck.
And yet, Fernando wasn’t paying him the slightest bit of attention. At least, not outwardly.
“Sí, sí, Lawrence.” Fernando’s voice was deep and smooth over the phone, the faintest hint of amusement curling in his tone. Lance barely registered the conversation; it didn’t matter. His hands fisted into the fabric of the bedsheets, his hips shifting ever so slightly, desperate for a reaction. He bit his lip, a quiet whimper escaping before he could stop it.
Fernando paused—just briefly. His free hand slid down Lance’s side, fingers firm as they squeezed his hip in warning. Lance shivered. He knew better than to push, but he couldn’t stop himself. A small moan slipped from his mouth, the kind that made the old man’s knees weak. He could hardly sit still, his body aching for more, but Fernando remained completely calm. He sat relaxed, his hand resting lightly on Lance’s thigh, phone pressed to his ear, speaking in his usual calm tone.
“Yes, Lawrence, Lance did a great job today,” Fernando said, his voice smooth and casual. “He handled the car well. Good driver, that boy—very impressive out there.”
Lance flushed at the praise, but it didn’t help with the tension knotting in his chest. He shifted slightly on that warm lap, letting out a quiet, shaky breath as he pressed closer to the spaniard. Fernando’s fingers flexed slightly on Lance’s thigh, a subtle signal to hold still, but he didn’t break his stride.
“Yes, I think he’s getting better with every race,” Fernando continued. “He stayed composed, even when the pressure was on.”
Lance squirmed again, his body trembling as he tried to get closer. His voice was a barely audible whisper. “Papi…”
Fernando’s lips curved in a small, knowing smile, though his attention stayed on the phone. “Hmm? No, he’s fine—just a little tired after the race, I think. He pushed hard today, gave everything on track.”
Lance whimpered softly, leaning into Fernando’s chest, his hips pressing forward in an attempt to find relief. “Please, Nando,” he whispered, his breath hitching.
Fernando kept his tone steady, ignoring Lance’s growing frustration. “Yes, Lawrence, we’ll review everything tomorrow, but I’m confident in him. He’s only going to get stronger.”
Lance trembled at the sound of his own praise, but the ache was becoming unbearable. He pressed harder against Fernando, his desperation spilling out. “Mon bébé… I can’t wait anymore,” he moaned, his voice breaking.
Fernando’s hand tightened slightly on Lance’s thigh, his voice lowering just enough to send a shiver through him. “Patience, nene,” he murmured, covering the mouthpiece for a moment, his tone soft but firm. “You can wait just a little longer.”
He finished the call smoothly, his voice calm and professional as always. “Yes, Lawrence, I’ll speak to the engineers tomorrow and send over my thoughts. Thank you. Talk soon.” He ended the call with a click, placing the phone down and finally turning his full attention to Lance.
Lance’s breath hitched, his entire body trembling. “I’ve been good for you, papi,” he whispered, his voice small but full of anticipation. “Please…”
Fernando’s smile deepened, and he cupped Lance’s face, his fingers brushing the skin of his jaw. “I know, cariño,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. “Now, let me show you how proud I am of you.”
Lance whimpered, his thighs shaking as he tried to hold himself steady. He was already sunk down onto Fernando, the overwhelming stretch and heat making it impossible to think straight. Every slow roll of his hips sent sparks through his body, but it wasn’t enough—he needed more.
“Papi,” Lance moaned, his voice high and needy, his hands clutching at Fernando’s shoulders for support. “Please… I can’t—need more, please.”
Fernando’s hands gripped Lance’s hips, holding him firmly in place to stop his frantic movements. His calm gaze met Lance’s desperate one, a soft smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Slow down, cariño,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Let me take care of you. You don’t need to rush.”
Lance let out a frustrated whimper, his body trembling under Fernando’s unrelenting control. “But I—papi, I need you. Please, I’ll be good for you, I swear.”
Fernando chuckled softly, brushing his thumb along the curve of Lance’s waist. “You’re already being good, mi amor,” he said, his voice filled with affection. “Look at you. Taking me so well.”
Lance flushed at the praise, his breath hitching as Fernando guided his hips to move again—slowly, deliberately. The pace was maddening, every inch of Fernando filling him completely, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the growing ache inside him.
“Papi, faster,” Lance begged, his voice breaking as he tried to move on his own. Fernando’s hands tightened on Lance’s hips, stopping his frantic movements. “Ah, ah, cariño,” Fernando chided softly, his voice calm and steady, but his grip firm. “If you keep acting like a spoiled brat, maybe I’ll stop altogether. Is that what you want?”
Lance’s breath hitched, his lips parting in a mix of frustration and need. He shook his head quickly, his eyes wide and pleading. “No, no, papi. I—I’ll behave. I promise,” he whimpered, his hands clutching at Fernando’s shoulders as if to anchor himself.
Fernando smiled, his fingers tracing soft circles along Lance’s flushed skin. “That’s better,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a soothing hum. “Let me take care of you, Lancito. Let me give you what you need.”
He leaned in, capturing Lance’s lips in a slow, consuming kiss. Lance melted into it, his body relaxing slightly under Fernando’s touch. The kiss deepened, Fernando’s tongue brushing against Lance’s as he held him close, keeping the pace unhurried and deliberate.
Lance whined into the kiss, his hips instinctively pressing down against Fernando’s lap, seeking more friction. But Fernando’s hands stayed firm, controlling Lance’s movements, letting him feel every inch of their connection without letting him rush.
“Papi,” Lance whimpered when they broke apart, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, it’s too much… I need more.”
Fernando kissed the corner of Lance’s mouth, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “You’re so impatient, nene,” he teased, his hands sliding up Lance’s back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Always so desperate for me. But I like you like this—needy, mine.”
Lance squirmed in Fernando’s lap, his cheeks flushed, his breathing uneven. “I am yours,” he moaned, his fingers gripping Fernando’s hair, pulling him into another kiss. This one was messier, more urgent, and Fernando let him take the lead for a moment, his hands wandering over Lance’s trembling body.
“You feel so good like this, mi amor,” Fernando murmured against Lance’s lips, his voice full of quiet praise. “So beautiful, so perfect for me.”
Fernando’s hands slid up Lance’s back, firm but deliberate, tracing the tense line of his spine. “You’re such a handful, nene,” he muttered, his voice low and teasing, lips brushing against Lance’s temple. “So impatient.”
Lance groaned in frustration, his face buried against Fernando’s neck. “I’m not impatient. You’re just—ugh—taking forever,” he complained, his tone sulky and sharp, though he didn’t try to pull away. “I swear you’re doing this on purpose.”
Fernando let out a soft laugh, warm and unbothered, his fingers pressing into Lance’s hips to keep him still. “And if I am? You’re not going anywhere, cariño. Admit it—you like it when I take my time.”
Lance pulled back just enough to glare at him, though his pout ruined the effect. “I hate it,” he lied, shifting his hips in defiance. “You’re impossible.”
“Hmm.” Fernando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “And yet, here you are.” He smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he pressed Lance back down against him, earning a sharp gasp. “If you hated it, you’d fight me more. But instead, you’re trembling in my hands, begging me for more. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me you’re mean,” Lance shot back, his voice petulant. His fingers dug into Fernando’s shoulders, his movements restless despite Fernando’s firm grip. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Of course I am,” Fernando admitted easily, his smirk deepening. “You’re beautiful like this. All flushed and needy, desperate for me to take control.” He tilted his head slightly, studying Lance’s flushed face with a quiet intensity. “Do you even realize how perfect you look right now?”
Lance’s cheeks burned, and for a moment, he didn’t have a retort. He dropped his gaze, biting his lip as a shiver ran through him. “Stop saying things like that,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now, almost shy. “You’re not playing fair.”
Fernando leaned in, brushing a kiss against the corner of Lance’s mouth. “Who said anything about fair?” he murmured. “You’re mine, Lance. Let me take care of you.”
Lance’s breath hitched, his resistance crumbling as Fernando guided his hips into a slow, deliberate rhythm. “I—I don’t want slow,” Lance tried again, his voice cracking as he clung to the last bit of his stubbornness. “I want—”
“You want me,” Fernando interrupted, his tone calm and certain. “And you’ll let me decide how you get me. No more complaining, sí?”
Lance whined, his hands curling into Fernando’s shirt as his body fell into sync with the Spaniard’s movements. “Fine,” he muttered under his breath, though the word was laced with a quiet kind of surrender. “But I’m not saying you’re right.”
Fernando smiled, the kind that was all patience and pride, his hand sliding up to cradle Lance’s jaw. “You don’t have to say it,” he said, his voice softening. “I already know.”
Lance let out a shaky breath, leaning into Fernando’s touch. “You’re so annoying,” he grumbled, though there was no heat behind the words. His lips brushed against Fernando’s, hesitant at first, before he gave in completely, capturing the older driver in a kiss that was all desperation and need.
Fernando matched the kiss with a steady, unhurried confidence, his hand threading through Lance’s hair as he held him close. “Relax, cariño,” he murmured against Lance’s lips. “Let me show you how proud I am of you.”
“Papi,” Lance moaned, voice high and needy, hands clutching at Fernando’s shoulders for support. “Please… I can’t—need more, please.”
He leaned in, capturing Lance’s lips in a slow, consuming kiss, and Lance melted into it, his body relaxing slightly under Fernando’s touch. The kiss deepened, Fernando’s tongue brushing against Lance’s as he held him close, keeping the pace unhurried and deliberate.
Lance whined into the kiss, his hips instinctively pressing down against Fernando’s lap, seeking more friction. But Fernando’s hands stayed firm, controlling Lance’s movements, letting him feel every inch of their connection without letting him rush.
When they finally reached their peak together, the world around them faded into nothingness. All that remained was the electricity between them and the blissful aftermath of release. Fernando held Lance close, rubbing his back gently as he calmed down, letting their breaths sync in the quietness afterward.
Once they caught their breath, Fernando pressed a gentle kiss to Lance’s forehead. “You did so well, Lancito,” he murmured, his voice softening. “You were incredible.”
Lance nuzzled against Fernando’s shoulder, feeling a rush of warmth flood through him. “I’m always good for you, papi,” he replied, a hint of playful pride sneaking into his tone.
“Always,” Fernando agreed, holding him tighter. “But you need to remember to take it easy sometimes. You pushed yourself, and I don’t want you to burn out.”
“I know,” Lance said, allowing himself to fully relax in the comfort of Fernando’s embrace. “I just wanted to feel you.”
Fernando smiled, sitting up a bit and pulling the hotel’s blanket around them both. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and then I’ll grab us some snacks, okay? You must be starving after today.”
Lance nodded, reluctantly pulling away from Fernando’s warm chest. They both laughed softly at the disheveled state of the hotel bed, the sheets tangled beneath them.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured, sinking deeper into the warmth of their shared space.
“Good,” Fernando replied, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Lance’s head. “Because I plan to keep spoiling you whenever I can.”