Destiel- Drive me Crazy (Completed)

Azerbaijan

After the night we had spent together, everything had changed. We texted almost constantly leading up to the Azerbaijan race, when we passed eachother in the corridors or in the pits, both of us smiled, remembering what we shared, our parking lot rendezous' became a regular occorance, just so we could be close to eachother. We shared stories about our families, I told him about my sister Anna who was a mechanic for my team, and Gabriel, who followed every race and tried to come to as many venues as he could, and Meg, Balthazar and Hannah, who followed my career from a distance but loved me all the same, and Urial- also a driver, but disowned from the family a long time ago- and Niomi - who, although remained in contact with most of the family, hated Gabriel and I for our 'alternative lifestyles' (Gabe being Gender-Fluid didn't go down well with Dad either). In turn, Dean told me more about his younger brother Sam, and his wife Eileen. As it happened, Dean's mother had passed away, just like mine, and though his father was alive, he was distant.
I had received a lot of hate during the week, from fans of the sport, it was always worse here, in fact the country was ranked the worst country for LGBT rights activism and support, though the law allowed gay marriage. Dean was there, every time, to hear me rant, or just hold me. I'd never had that before... someone who was there nomatter what- besides Gabe of course, but he couldn't be here all the time.

When the race finally came around, it was tight, and I mean really tight. At one point, Dean's car was litterally wheel to wheel with mine on a stretch on straight road, I glanced over to see him watching me in turn, and smiled. Despite this, I pushed on, determined to beat him.
I was unsurprised when he managed to steal the win, but I was equally pleased to be standing beside him in second place. Not wanting to give away anything in the way we interacted, I avoided all glances at his toned physique in the race suit, or at his blinding smile. He did the same, only catching my eyes for a second as we separated for interviews.
Most of the questions were usual, but one caught me off-guard.
"Are you aware of the accusations of your sexual assault on the young, impressionable Dean Winchester?"
I blanched. "The accusations what?"
"You have been seen dragging Dean into your car after races, and following him into bathrooms." The interviewer asked, his face showing no sign of remorse. Maybe he didn't grasp how much his comment could ruin my life.
I had no idea what to say. Of course I should outwardly deny it, but I couldn't form the words, couldn't think straight. Of course it would always be me that would be villainised, me that had lead him astray.
I felt a sturdy hand in the small of my back, and blinked my way out of my haze to find Dean beside me, talking confidently.
"I'm hardly young and impressionable" He laughed, so casually and freely, as if the situation was not what it was. I had completely forgotten about the age difference between us, and now it was shocking to me. I was 37 and he was 28. "And I don't know where these unwarranted accusations are coming from, but Novak and I are past petty squabbles and moving onto a friendly rivalry. It's true we have been spending time together, but in a mutual, friendly capacity. After all, shouldn't F1 be about friendly competition?"
"And this new found... friendship, won't affect your competitive racing spirit?"
"Never. The both of us still want to be the best of the best." He grinned, glancing at me. "And to those of you who decided a predatory gay man and an innocent victim was easier to imagine than two friends... re-evaluate your stereotypes before you hurt someone."
I was not only amazed at how well Dean handled the situation, but at how well he had spoke, how meaningful it had been. I tried to avoid gazing at him like he was my everything, but it was getting harder by the minute.