𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞; oscar piastri

PART TWO

Thanks for the support so far, ily guys <3

Word count; 2,470

Tomás

— February 20th, 2023. Sakhir, Bahrain.

Sunlight peered in through the curtains, and my eyes fluttered open beneath it, squinting at the bright rays as they stretched over the hotel room. My head rolled to the side, slightly uncomfortable from balancing on Pierre's bicep all night, and I sat up, reaching for my phone as it buzzed away on the nightstand. 

"Hello?" I answered, voice hoarse from slumber. 

"For fuck's sake, Facu, I've rang you about five times. Where are you?" 

I groaned, rubbing my brows over with my knuckles; I hadn't noticed the contact when I picked up - and if I had, I would've let it ring forever.

"Facu?"

Mind still muffled from the tequila, I answered simply, "At the hotel."

"I'm in your hotel room, shithead, you're not here."

"I never specified which one." I chuckled, knowing how much my lack of regard would infuriate him.

A finger poked at my back and I looked over my shoulder, smiling at Pierre as he stirred awake.

"What's the problem, Curro? I kept the mess out of my room, what's there to worry about?" I probed, not bothering to listen to the answer.

Pierre grinned at me, and I slid my hand over his naked thigh.

"Okay, okay," I interrupted Curro's endless ranting, my eyes not leaving Pierre. "I'll be there in thirty."

"No, Facu, you need to be here now. Where are you?"

I pretended to hear some static, something disrupting the call,"In thirty you say?"

"Fuck you, Facu, get here now. Not thirty-"

"I'll see you in thirty, baby." I ended the call quickly, tossing my phone back onto the bedside table.

"I can't believe you." Pierre said sleepily, fingers walking circles around my back.

"It's true," I shrugged. "I could've brought three girls back to my room last night and made him deal with it."

"You speak as if that has happened before." He smirked, an expression I adored.

"It was a lot more than three." I turned, leaning over him, my chain dangling in the space between us. "Old habits." 

His smirk grew, aware that he fell in the same demographic. Our lips brushed together, and I considered completely disregarding the thirty minutes I had to get back to my hotel. But we both had somewhere to be, and we'd probably find the same bed again sooner or later.

It was three days before the pre-season testing, which called for a lot more fuss than it was worth; photoshoots for the new season, hours of media filming, interviews et cetera. We - Liam and I - were directed to a space outside, where various other drivers loitered, waiting for everyone else to arrive, and I couldn't help but tease him for how light he was on his feet - a long-lasting effect of a hangover.