Fic: Interconnection, Part 8
Pairing: Mark Webber/Sebastian Vettel
Rating: M
Synopsis: Midway through the summer break, certain realities begin to sink in
Word count: 2,480
Disclaimer: Didn’t happen, never will. Don’t like, don’t read.
Interconnection, Part 8
Summertime, and the livin’ is easy…
The lyrics of the classic song were making Sebastian think, stressing him out rather than lulling him into a summer haze. Here he was, poolside, with a whole bunch of friends… Sun, booze and general frivolity on the cards. Yet the summer break from Formula One was proving to be far from easy. He didn’t even know where to begin with the trouble - all he knew was that he was spiralling.
He’d dyed his hair a few days ago. It was a yellow blonde now. Straw blond. Or as Mark had angrily referred to it during their video call yesterday, Ken doll blonde. The jibe had led to another no-holds-barred argument, where they once again forgot why they were fighting and simply revelled in their anger instead.
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, again wondering about the why. Why had he dyed his hair? Why were he and Mark so angry with each other over this break?
The hair question was easily answered. The first week after Hungary had been so very strange for Sebastian. Every day that passed was another day after the blow job he’d given. It was as if this sexual act had become a new marker on his calendar, his personal timeline. People often had milestones etched into their ongoing understanding of their lives, and Sebastian’s timeline was a record-breaker. The youngest to do this, the youngest to achieve that, this win here, this championship there. Sure, there were other mind-blowing events - namely losing his virginity - but it was this new event that currently overshadowed them all, at least in his mind.
First sexual act with a man.
First time he’d gone down on Mark.
He’d enjoyed it, yes… But it had been so real. It was like he’d made a commitment to the other man, essentially telling him that he was ‘all in’. He knew what fooling around felt like, and this went beyond that on an emotional level.
So it was this awareness that had made looking in the mirror a particularly confronting exercise. Fraud, he’d think to himself. And then Top Gear had aired, making him realise how much Mark was beginning to mean to him. ‘Not going to miss me a huge amount?’ he’d raged at the older man, though they both knew how irrational the outburst was. ‘Fucking liar. You miss me right this instant.’
‘I had to say that,’ Mark had said. ‘I struggled with my response. Did you not see that?’
‘A bit of needle? What does that phrase even mean?!’
Before the dye job, the outside had looked the same. He had looked like the same man who’d previously hated Mark with all his being. Suddenly he’d snapped, wanting something, anything to denote the change. Dyeing his hair was simple and excusable. It was summer, which - if a school analogy was drawn - meant freedom.
Fucking freedom. He’d told Christian that he didn’t give a fuck who replaced Mark, and Christian had gone ahead and told the press that he’d expressed no preference. He did have a preference - that Mark not abandon him. Too late for that.
Summertime wasn’t easy. And now Hanna was walking over to his deckchair, having just gotten out of the pool. The thought of another tense conversation made him want to strangle the inflatable pool toys that were bobbing up and down in the water. Not to mention, he’d rather listen to Justin Bieber than listen to the rest of the ‘summer’ themed songs on his friends’ playlist.
‘Seb!’
Hanna’s tone was light and dark at the same time. She was a cheerful girl, but on the shier side of outgoing, which meant she was never outright angry with him. She even skipped a bit as she approached.
Sebastian was thankful for the sunglasses he was wearing. He could feel himself glaring at her with undeserved frustration.
‘What?’
‘Why are you just sitting here with your phone?’ she asked. ‘Everyone is in the pool or helping out with lunch.’
He shrugged. ‘I have people to talk to.’
‘It’s the break.’
‘So?’
Seemingly crestfallen at being continually rebuffed, Hanna bit her lip and didn’t say anything in reply. She could hardly call him a bad boyfriend, not when he still showered her with affection…at times. Sebastian still called her pretty, and was cuddly when he was in a good mood. And they were still sleeping together frequently. She had friends that complained that their boyfriends no longer seemed interested during sex, or worse, didn’t want to do it all (which suggested they were going elsewhere for their needs, or perhaps just heading for the door). So whatever problem there was, surely it wasn’t serious.
She had stopped asking about Mark, especially after the Top Gear interview. The combination of the lovely birthday card Mark had given him, plus his irritated reaction to Mark’s interview, suggested to her that they were secret friends. It explained a lot. Sebastian was probably moody because Malaysia had proven to be so destabilising for the pair, with the retirement news and new teammate talk also getting annoyingly overwhelming. She recalled the early days, before Turkey 2010, where Sebastian had openly enjoyed Mark’s company. Perhaps they were trying to make amends before it was too late, and didn’t want anyone knowing. It was, after all, a complicated relationship, and neither man was one for the personal spotlight.
‘You look great in that bikini,’ Sebastian said casually before checking his phone again.
‘Thanks.’
She bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek, expecting him to be playful enough to steal a kiss on the lips. Reassuringly, he forgot about his phone for the moment and did just that.
‘You should swim,’ she suggested. ‘Might help fade the yellow of your hair. Might even turn it green.’
Sebastian couldn’t manage laughter. ‘It’ll fade anyway.’
‘Maybe.’
When he became preoccupied with his phone again, Hanna left for the patio, where their friends were preparing lunch. They had all accepted that Sebastian was experiencing mood swings this summer. Being a Formula One driver wasn’t easy; how were they to know what he was going through?
The next time they saw a smile from him, it was when the song changed to something more upbeat: ‘In the Summertime’ by Shaggy. But still, he was glued to his phone, his look of intense concentration a sharp contrast to their carefree laughter.
*
Mark felt old.
He was down the road at Mitch’s house. Technically, the house was his - he’d bought it for his nineteen-year-old protege so he could live nearby - so in some way it was an outpost. But today, he felt a lot more removed.
It definitely had something to do with age. Mitch and his mates were in the yard, running around and shooting each other with super soakers. It was the type of juvenile fun Mitch was still entitled to indulge in. Meanwhile, Mark was inside, watching them from the kitchen window like some sort of de facto guardian. He was loading the dishwasher, of all things, the boys having left all their dishes in the sink after lunch.
Responsibility was fine with him. Mentoring Mitch was the closest he was ever going to get to parenthood, so he knew he had to do a good job - not only to help the young man’s chances of getting an F1 seat, but also to keep him grounded whilst he climbed the ranks.
And so it wasn’t just Ann who’d be heartbroken at the truth here. Mitch would also feel betrayed. Mark was always about doing the right thing and playing fair, yet here he was once again contemplating his secret and the man who many said had come to symbolise betrayal.
Tea towel over his shoulder, Mark shook his head and continued cleaning up. His ‘happy place’ at the moment was L’Alpe d’Huez, where he’d gone cycling with his friends and Mitch last week. The place was so refreshingly natural, and training amongst the mountain scape had been a great way to reset. Even with the heated texts and phone calls from Sebastian, Mark had felt grounded enough to handle the drama.
So it was this place that he continued to channel when his phone rang. Drying his hands, he reached for his phone and dutifully answered within four rings. Anything more than four rings and Sebastian was bound to accuse him of avoiding his calls, or quote, ‘staring at the screen, wondering if it’s worth answering’.
‘Yeah.’ It was a hilariously casual way to answer his teammate’s call, but casual was better than starting off with a sigh or accusation.
‘Yeah, yourself,’ Sebastian said, the irritation in his voice sounding like the good kind. The kind that Mark wanted: the German missed him.
‘You going to apologise for the insulting things you said yesterday?’
‘What? No.’
‘You should.’
Mark knew he was probably pushing it, but he wanted an apology regardless. The longer he watched the guys in the yard, the more the issue of age got to him.
Sebastian groaned. ‘But what I said was true. You can’t be angry at me for the fact I sleep with my girlfriend more than you sleep with Ann. It’s not my fault my girlfriend is younger. It’s not my fault your partner is old and doesn’t need it as much as Hanna.’
Yesterday, the older man had been overcome with jealousy. Today, he was also sad.
‘Maybe I’m angry because I’m jealous,’ he broached, angling for a softer response from Sebastian.
‘Obviously.’
‘You use that word too much. Say “obviously” or “for sure” one more time -’
‘And what? You’ll kiss me?’
There was a lengthy pause. ‘I would, actually.’
It was true. Mark felt like time was slipping away. Before, Sebastian had always been the one pushing for a response, pushing for acknowledgment, pushing for them to try. Now he felt that urgency. There were only nine races left in the season. Only nine races left in his career. The time limit was his own fault, but he hadn’t exactly known how much things were going to escalate.
‘Are you okay?’ Sebastian asked, concern creeping into his voice. ‘Why aren’t you angry at me?’
‘Don’t want to fight anymore,’ Mark muttered.
‘You don’t even want to tell me off about my hair again?’
‘No.’ Mark held back a laugh. ‘Ken.’
‘You’re only mad because you don’t have a right to be upset about my hair.’
‘Right. Because I’m not your boyfriend.’
Mark’s mind suddenly went elsewhere. He was ten, it was summer, and he was careening down a slip ’n slide in someone’s back yard. He didn’t know what this had to do with Sebastian’s hair. Maybe it was a reminder of a more innocent time.
Surprisingly, Sebastian responded with more sincerity than usual. Perhaps he too was tired of the fighting. Underneath all the rage and the jealousy, there were the feelings that were causing them to act this way.
‘I’ve been with Hanna forever.’
‘My forever has been longer than yours. Much longer.’
‘Yeah, as you keep saying…’
‘Do you think of me? When you’re in bed with her?’
He had held off asking the question for days now. It hadn’t been fair to ask it previously, when the shock of their post-race encounter had still been plaguing the younger man.
‘Don’t ask me things like that. It makes it harder.’
‘Well, I’m just being honest with you. When I’m with Ann… I keep looking for excuses. Too tired. Too stressed. I’d never tell her I’m thinking about somebody else, but at least I’m telling that somebody else the truth.’
‘Maybe it’s different for you because you received the blow job. If it was really as good as you said it was, then of course you’re going to be distracted. I haven’t experienced the same. Plus I feel guilty, so yeah, I’m not going to be obvious about my cheating by turning Hanna away.’
The jealousy was a stinging pain now. It made Mark wince in anguish.
‘Thanks for the honesty.’
‘You don’t sound thankful,’ Sebastian replied doubtfully.
‘I can take it.’
‘Doesn’t sound like it.’
Mark shrugged, even though Sebastian obviously couldn’t see him. ‘So I hesitate with my own partner, whereas you don’t. It’s fine.’
His defensiveness was immediately reciprocated.
‘They’re our girlfriends. We’re not going to break up with them. We’re with them for good.’
‘So, what… We’re just going to fool around for the rest of the season and then that’s it… Done?’
‘It’ll be done because you’re leaving,’ Sebastian argued.
Mark mentally checked out for a moment. As far as he was concerned, he was back in the French Alps, traversing part of the Tour de France route.
‘Mark? Hello?’
He didn’t want to come back to the conversation. He couldn’t be responsible with Sebastian. Reliving the afternoon after the last race made him realise how weak he was - he’d let the younger man suck him off, and now he wasn’t even sure he regretted letting it happen.
‘This is where you say it’s my fault,’ Sebastian added.
Still, Mark stayed where he was. He was moving in his thoughts though, pedalling as fast as he could before gliding down an embankment. The beautiful scenery was whipping by, perhaps even more stunning when experienced like this.
‘Webber? Where are you right now?’
‘In the Alps,’ he answered.
Sebastian knew what the older man meant by this. He himself had especially complained about the amount of time Mark had spent training last week, for it had reduced the amount of time they’d had to communicate with each other. Mark had found time to tweet photos, but had delayed responding to texts, citing the fact he was on his bike.
‘Let’s go then,’ Sebastian suggested.
The suggestion jolted Mark out of his reverie. ‘What?’
‘Let’s go. Or do you want another two weeks of this before Spa?’
‘I’m not following -’
‘You’re so shit at this. I’ll plan it. We’ll meet up for a day. But no bikes.’
It took a long time for Mark to process the idea. It didn’t help that Mitch suddenly ran up to the kitchen window to spray water as a joke. The neurons weren’t firing fast enough, and both responses from Mark were delayed.
He poked his tongue out at Mitch.
Then he said yes to Sebastian. ‘All right. No bikes.’
Having Sebastian in his happy place was a fucking dangerous move, and the sensible response would’ve been to say no. But it was too late now; he wanted to go.
He would just have to accept that one day, when it was all said and done, even his happy place would be ruined by the memories.