Moscow Mule - [Pierre Gasly]

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Azar stirred in her sleep as she heard the clinking of glassware and plates. She buried her face deeper into the pillow. She noticed the other side of the bed was empty as she rolled around, seeing Pierre wasn't in the bed anymore. Azar rubbed her eyes, smoothing out the sheets that were covering her. She opened her eyes, met with the morning light of the sun, the white curtains softly swaying with the wind, a warm breeze moving through the suite. The doors to the balcony were open and Pierre was outside. He was making the table, walking around to put plates down. He was shirtless, too. Prints of her nails were visible on the tan skin of his back, his muscled shoulders coming into her view as he turned around, making his way back inside. "Good morning," Pierre said, seeing that she was awake. Azar leaned up on her elbow. "Good morning," she replied. "What are you doing outside?" She asked. "Wondering when you'd wake up to have breakfast with me," Pierre replied, approaching her as she sat up on her knees on the bed, her body naked apart from her panties. "Oh..." Azar smiled. "Did you get me an iced..." "Caramel macchiato with a drizzle of hazelnut? I did."

"You don't even know my coffee order, Gasly," Azar hummed, feeling his fingertips glide over her face before he leaned down to kiss her lips. "It's so basic that I could have guessed," he teased her, earning a slap to his chest. He took the shirt he had worn last night, holding it up and letting her slide her arms through the sleeves. His fingers tickled her skin when he locked a single button over her sternum. Pierre lifted her chin a little, looking at her, her messy hair, the sheets pooling around her knees. She looked so deliciously rumpled. "Come on, breakfast is ready," he said, turning around to make his way to the balcony of the suite again. Azar swung her legs over the edge of the bed, following him to the table he had made. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the pancakes and muffins, fresh croissants and Nutella. Pierre shoved a chair back for her, making her smile a little as she sat down. "This is nice," Azar said, looking over at him. Pierre watched her move some pancakes over to her plate, taking a spoon full of Nutella to coat it. She took a sip of her iced coffee, which was perfectly sweet. "I didn't take you for such a sweet tooth," Pierre said, taking a bite of his croissant.

"The more you know," Azar shrugged, holding his gaze as his thumb reached her lower lip, wiping away the bit of chocolate that was there after the first bite of her pancakes. "You're leaving tonight?" Pierre asked, making her nod. "Where to?" he asked then. "New York for some shoots with Moschino," she said. "I see," Pierre replied. "And you?" she asked. "I'm going back home to train for my next race in Barcelona," he said. "You're welcome to be an AlphaTauri guest," he grinned, making her chuckle. She popped a strawberry into her mouth, humming in response then. "My dad has a yacht in Monaco. Maybe I'll come during that weekend," Azar said. "Of course, you're too good for Barcelona," Pierre teased, making her roll her eyes. "I'm Persian royalty, you should know that by now," she said, looking up from under her lashes, that sweet smile curling her lips that made his blood pump a little faster through his veins. "Don't you live in Monaco?" she asked, knowing that multiple Formula One drivers live in the little country. "I live in Milan, it's easier, because AlphaTauri's headquarters are in Italy too," Pierre explained. "You know, I have never been to Milan nor Paris," Azar spoke up again. "You should visit me for a weekend," he said, pulling on the armrest of her chair to draw her closer to him.

"Hmm, I don't think so," she said, reaching for another strawberry. "You don't want to see me again?" Pierre asked, cocking his head a little sideways while his bright eyes gazed at her. "I didn't say that," Azar answered. "But I'm busy, you're busy. We had fun, why make it difficult?" she shrugged, getting up from the table after she finished her coffee. "There's nothing difficult about spending time with me in Milan, a beautiful city you have never been before," Pierre grinned, pulling on the back of her thighs to get her into his lap. Azar sighed, gliding her fingertips over his shoulders. "I don't date or do feelings, Gasly," she said. "And I don't spend nice weekends somewhere with a guy," Azar tapped his cheek before she kissed his lips. "Then what have we been doing here?" he asked, getting up to follow her when she slipped out of his arms. "We were here on holidays with friends, and we came across each other. Did you want to put another label on it?" she asked, looking over her shoulder as he leaned against the door, watching her with his arms crossed over his chest as she slipped into a clean pair of panties and pulled his shirt off of her, draping a summer dress down her body. Pierre shook his head. A no strings attached relationship was perfect for his lifestyle.

More than perfect, actually. But he just wasn't used to the girl proposing it. He was used to the girl falling in love, not being able to handle his racing schedule and the minimal amount of days he'd be able to spend time with her, while Azar seemed to prefer to see him only when her schedule allowed, or rather, when she was feeling like it. Pierre should be glad he met someone like this, no drama, straight to the point, a woman who knew what and who she wanted. Wait, who she wanted? A pang of jealousy went through his chest at the thought that he might not be the only one allowed into her bedroom, but at the same time, she was picky, and not a little. "I have to answer some emails," Azar announced, grabbing her laptop after she slipped her feet into a pair of heels. "You can be in here as long as you like, I don't know if your suite is available already," she said. "Probably not," Pierre chuckled. "I will call the staff to get the stuff from the table," he said. "Alright, thank you," she smiled at him, getting the keycard from the door and making her way onto the hall to get to the conference room. Pierre sighed as the door fell closed behind her, reminding himself that he should be glad she was this easy going and not getting attached too soon.

"Good to see you again, Pierre. How were your days in Miami and Mexico?" Leonardo asked, looking at Pierre through the mirror as a makeup artist was brushing some products over his face. Leonardo carried a camera in his hand. "I have a new camera. It will make you look even more handsome on the pictures," he grinned, heavy Italian accent laced through his words. "That's great," Pierre chuckled, tilting his head when the makeup artist wanted him to. "I had a good break, ready to get back in the car in a week," Pierre answered. "You've gotten a tan, it's perfect for the upcoming summer line of AlphaTauri," Leonardo continued. "I will see you soon," he added, leaving the makeup room. The makeup artist finished the small adjustments within a couple of minutes, and he was guided to the room where they would shoot the pictures for the campaign. Yuki had his shoot yesterday, and therefore he was alone. After the shoot, he was going to have a meeting about his potential collaboration of knitted sweaters with the Italian brand. He was excited about it, hoping they would have some great ideas too, that could inspire the designs even more.

Pierre hadn't seen or heard from Azar ever since they both left Tulum. But this time, she had left him her number. She had left it on the nightstand when he wasn't looking, the note had something typically her:

Here's my number. Don't count on a reply, though. xoxo.

It had made him chuckle, his fingers brushing over the print of her lipstick she had left on her note, something typically her too. Pierre saw on her social media that she was all over New York for the work she would do with Moschino, her Instagram story sharing some behind the scenes pictures of the photoshoot with the brand. Pierre had been busy when he came back to Milan, anyway. He hadn't texted her yet. He was either training, in the simulator in Faenza, or doing something else that occupied his whole day. Like today, with the photoshoot. Pierre got offered a jacket he had to wear, and he smoothed out the fabric before stepping forward. They made sure the lighting was perfect, and then the camera started flashing to take pictures of him. Pierre had to switch his positions, he got redressed with multiple outfits, but after three hours, they were finally done. He got changed into his own clothes again, making his way to the conference room to have the meeting with the designers. Pierre already thought that the sweaters of AlphaTauri were lovely, especially for leisure wear and for late evenings outside.

Summer was yet to come, but they were already thinking about the fall collection, and he would love to add his input to it. Pierre had prepared some things to show the colors he preferred, the material, the way the clothes would need to fit and what he imagined alongside it, the preferred audience. "We like your project, Pierre, but have you thought of expanding your range by adding female sweaters too?" was the question directed to him. "We think it will be mutually beneficial to collaborate with a full line of sweaters for men and women, perhaps unisex. High quality, made for everyone. Do you know someone who would like to be involved with this and model for the campaign too?" Pierre didn't have to think long. "I know someone, yes," he said, nodding while taking his phone out of his pocket. He grinned as he dialed her number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Pierre."

"Hmm, I thought you'd call me sooner than this."

He chuckled. "Are you interested in collaborating with me on the new AlphaTauri campaign?" he asked.

"I'm listening."