Work Text
alex has never been the best with physical affection, not until george and lando and charles who hung off of him when they were younger. it wasn’t like he was starved for it either, not when he had george’s wandering hands, or lando’s need to be pressed against the nearest person shoulder-hips-thighs-type of pressed. charles was more subtle, a hand around the waist, on his shoulder or lower back, his hand loosely wrapped around alex’s wrist.so again, it’s not like he grew up starved for it.until logan.logan who hovers, hands awkwardly pressed to his thighs or in the pockets of his jeans or sweaters. alex almost doesn’t notice, wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for nick. nick and his older brother tendencies that had led him to squeeze logan’s neck when they saw each other at the factory.and alex had seen how quickly logan sagged, wether by the praise of the older driver or just the fact that someone was touching him. he ignored that little tidbit until they were teammates and the season was quickly going to shit and the starry-eyed american started to lose his spark.alex had done it almost out of some hardwired instinct, his hand spanning the width of logan’s neck and squeezing. logan’s knees had buckled so quickly, they both went tumbling down, logan on top, still flushed and the overly-hot from the race. his eyes were wide, green sea-glass eyes staring at him dazed for a second before he’s scampering up.he’s gone before alex can say anything, not that he could when he can still feel the heavy weight of logan on his lap. he can almost still feel the way his thighs gave in a little, the muscle soft and plush under his fingertips.he’s never thought of a teammate this way, overly obsessing over other reactions he could get out of logan. they spiral from there, haunting him in his dreams where he wakes up in the aftermath, rutting desperately against the mattress until he’s spilled into his briefs.logan doesn’t clock it, not really even though alex feels like losing his mind every time logan goes near limp in his hands, melting like butter. maybe he does know, maybe this is something that he barely allows himself to have.it culminates in spa.the car had been good so far, they’re getting closer to points each race. logan was in p5 by some miracle after his second and last pit stop. he was being chased by yuki, just two seconds between them when it happens: the engine dies.yuki has to skirt around logan, jerky movements that he manages to fix before he takes off again.“fuck!” logan shouts, “what the fuck happened, man! the engine just fucking died on me. fucking fuck!”logan watches helplessly as alonso passes by him, then esteban then the remaining thirteen drivers. he feels like dying, the cooling twisting pain as he slams his hands on the steering wheel. hopelessness grabs him, he was so close, he just had to keep yuki off his tail for two more laps and he was home free.“okay, buddy, out the car.” gaeten’s smooth voice sounds in his ears, “we’ll talk about it when you get back, this shouldn’t have happened, but you fought well.”“fucking useless,” logan mutters, “fucking shit, man.”the drive back is humiliating, every stare feeling like another stone against his back. for the first time in months, he had felt the thrill he had chased since he was a kid. he was flying, the car was agreeing with him up until that moment that had shattered everything in a second.the media is relentless and it takes everything in logan to not break down right then and there. the debrief is even more humiliating, none of the engineers know what happened exactly and they’re on the way to blame logan for some contact that he got caught in when gaeten shakes his head.“it wasn’t a driver error and we know this, he was fine after. this had something to do with the engine itself.” gaeten says, “we figure it out and worse case scenario, we take the ten-grid penalty when we come back.”“if i come back.” logan mutters bitterly, but the words were out and james looks—for the first time in the last fourteen races—ashamed. logan’s team turn to look at james, surprise and resignation written on their faces.“no.” one of them said, “no, we just got the upgrades for logan’s car. we barely gave him a fighting chance.”“this isn’t fair.”logan shrugs, standing up, “it’s the way of the game isn’t it james? that’s why you’re asking other teams for their reserve drivers, why franco called me asking about my future. why carlos is signing.” he turns to his team, the ones logan has apologized to time and time again, “i truly am sorry about this, if i don’t see you guys after the break, then i hope you guys know how much it meant to me that you guys had my back.”he leaves, because he’s never left before, had always stayed until the end, when the engineers exhausted themselves and james had left to stew in his own rage and disappointment. he’s never left, has always been the one left behind one way or another.his friends are successful in their own rights—oscar literally won this race. logan doesn’t know how long he could continue to hold on, not when the dream had easily turned into a nightmare, haunting him even in his most happiest moments.he misses home almost violently as he makes his way to his hotel room, exhaustion pulling the very marrow of his bones. he misses the ocean blue water and hot sandy beaches. he misses his parents and his brother, his friends.he wants to go home.alex is waiting for him, which isn’t exactly surprising. alex had a better race, a solid p7. logan almost doesn’t want to see him, he wants to wallow in his own self-pity before calling his manager. he shouldn’t have blown up at james, even if their relationship was less than amicable, balancing precariously between civil and something downright violent.the older driver trails in after logan, silent in a way that makes logan unsteady. between the two, logan has always been the quiet one, content to sit in the loud explosiveness that is alexander albon.logan escapes to the bathroom, leaving alex alone with his thoughts. patrick had told him what he overheard, that james was thinking of replacing logan during the summer break, and that they would announce carlos beforehand.alex had known, deep down, that this could be their end. if, because alex refuses to believe james is cruel enough to do something like this when they’re on the cusp of something good, logan leaves, he won’t turn back. the sport had turns its back on logan, so in that same vein, logan will do it too.and now he sits on logan’s bed, the sheets a mess from the morning when logan had woken up late. he doesn’t know what to do, or what to say. he’s had months to identify his feelings for logan, to slot them where it goes. he knows he loves logan, had loved him for longer than he probably realized.when logan emerges from the bathroom, alex still doesn’t know what to say so he crosses the room. logan stares at him with dim, tired eyes, eye bags heavy and dark and something violent festers in alex’s chest as he gently cups logan’s face.logan’s eyes flutter close, his shoulders loosening as alex’s carefully caresses logan’s warm skin. his hands slowly trail away, down his neck and barely-there pressure on his airways. logan’s breath hitches, eyes now half-lidded, his tongue sliding out against his bottom lip.alex continues, dragging his hands over logan’s shoulders. logan’s breathing has picked up, chest rising and falling in a quick rhythm as alex’s hands pass over his arms. logan flinches, but just barely when alex gets his hands on his waist, the material of his shirt soft.he waits, his hands spread around logan’s waist, his thumbs gently moving against the material. logan squirms, eyes blown out, an abyss of darkness that alex will never forgive himself for not getting lost in.“please.” logan whispers, “please.”the shaky desperation does something to alex, makes his sight glaze over with images of what he could do with logan, how he can make sure logan never forgets the feeling of their skin pressed together.he slips his hands under logan’s shirt and thrives for the whimper that slips from logan. he holds on, digging his fingers into the soft give of his waist. he hopes, almost possessively, that logan bruises, that tomorrow when they wake up, alex can see his marks on the pale, unmoored skin.he drags his hands up, the shirt lifting and cool air brushing logan’s shower-warm skin. alex almost doesn’t think about it as he carefully leads them to the bed, spreads logan over it like he was meant to be there, pressed against the bed, under alex.his fingertips brush against logan’s nipples, the tip of his nails lightly pressing against it. logan whines, hips jerking and pressing against alex. it makes alex’s mouth water, tension coiling in his gut as logan flushes pretty pink.“look at you,” alex marvels, “looks so pretty just laying here, letting me touch you.”logan whines, “alex please,” he begs, and he sounds so pretty, cheeks flushed with pink rose bushes and lips bitten red from failed attempts to hold back his needy noises.alex wants more, will always want more from logan.he pulls the shirt off, dropping it off the edge of the bed. he spreads his hands out against logan’s chest, the tan of his hands almost mesmerizing against the paleness of logan. he can’t help but duck down, press his lips almost desperately against logan’s spit-slick ones.logan gives in easily, following alex’s lead like he was made for it, doing nothing but giving into alex. alex feels a thrill go through him, feels logan squirm under him, mouth open with needy little whimpers slipping from him.alex grinds down, just enough to get logan to moan, head tossed back and neck exposed for the taking. alex dives in, drags his lips from the hinge of logan’s jaw to his collarbone, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. logan withers under him, legs spreading to accommodate alex.logan’s hands dig into alex’s hair, hitching a leg over alex’s waist, pressing him closer. alex complies, grinding down into logan who tries to meet his pace.“so good for me aren’t you,” alex asks as he trails further down, nipping at his collarbone, “look at you being so good, so pliant just for me.”he wraps his lips around a nipple, eyes fluttering close when logan tugs. logan can’t stay still, desperate for relief as alex moves onto the other. alex can feel logan against his hip, movements jerky and not enough. just as he drags the tip of his tongue roughly against the sensitive bud, he cups logan, squeezing him almost meanly.logan shudders underneath him, a cracking moan slipping from him as he ruts upwards. alex pulls away, locking away the desperate please, please, please that spills from logan.he slides his hand into logan’s sweatpants, grinning against the pinking skin, “no underwear, logie? where you hoping for this?”logan shakes his head, mouth dropping open again when alex properly wraps his hand around logan’s dick. he’s leaking enough that alex can he’s it to smooth the glide, tightening at the head. logan can’t stop the noises slipping out of him as alex picks up the pace, his hips jerking to meet alex.alex stills his hips with a hand, “lay still, baby, let me take care of you yeah?”he tugs the sweats off, sees logan in all his glory. he doesn’t hesitate to take logan into his mouth, logan near wailing at the toe-curling heat of alex’s mouth. his hands tug desperately in alex’s hair, straining to lay still as alex takes him deeper.it doesn’t take long before logan is crying, “close alex, so close, please, please, i’m so—fuck, mhmm please, alex please.”alex drags his tongue on the underside of logan’s dick, flicks it over the weeping slit as he uses his hand for the rest. logan’s back arches, thighs closing over alex’s ears as he lets out a cry, hands tugging almost brutally at alex’s hair.alex pulls off just enough for some cum to spurt onto his face. alex crawls up, one hand tugging down his jeans and boxers, freeing himself from his own prison as he uses logan’s cum as lube.he almost jerks away when logan’s hand grips him, and alex wraps his hand around logan’s, thrusting into the tight grip. logan angles his head, dragging down alex for a messy kiss as alex moans into his mouth, his movements becomes uncoordinated before he stills, gasping into logan’s mouth as his orgasm slams into him.he goes limp, his face nestled into logan’s neck. he can feel logan’s heartbeat, feels tempted to dig his teeth into the tendon and take a piece of logan with him.alex slinks away when he feels like he can walk, tugging his boxers on but stripping from his jeans. he carefully soaks a small towel in warm water as he washes his face, feeling the cum starting to dry.logan’s still spread out on the bed, chest rising and falling steadily. alex carefully looms over him, cleaning off the mess before tossing it to the side. he goes hunting for logan’s suitcase and grabs a pair of boxers. logan lets him slip them on before alex curls around logan.his hands are still restless as logan gets comfortable. they trail up his back, splayed open before resting on his back.he doesn’t know what the future holds for them, doesn’t know if logan will allow him to see him over the break. he wish he knew, he wished he could see how they will end up, but he doesn’t and all he has right now, at this very point, is logan, alive and warm in his arms, pressed skin to skin.