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Dick Grayson panted heavily, sweat dripping down his back. His muscles burned, the strain of the past hour burning through him as adrenaline coursed through his veins. The continuous shifting of his legs, the twisting of his arms, the pressures forced onto him.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so close,” Dick groaned out as he pushed through the exhaustion from exerting himself so hard.
After all, there were still 23 laps left in the race.
Up ahead, Dick could see the bright red of car 16 turning with centimeters of clearance from the wall. Charles Leclerc was a scary good driver, but Dick could be too, and he was finally less than half a second away from overtaking Charles. He really hoped he did because it would make the post-race meet up all that much better. Getting to tease his childhood friend was one of his favourite things to do, and if that lead to some phenomenal sex, well who was complaining?
Charles and Dick had discovered the amazing relieving and relaxing qualities that post-race fucking could give them, years and years ago. As teens they experimented, and now as adults with seats in Formula One, they only had more intense pressures that lead to needing a good fuck every once in awhile.
Were they dating? No. Their arrangement was comfortable though, a friends-with-benefits that really benefited. With time and practice and familiarity, knowing each others’ mind and body intimately, it worked for them.
Being able to overtake and place above Charles was one of the things Dick knew would fire up the Monegasque driver.
Ferrari was doing well this year, certainly better than the last couple. Dick was happy for Charles; he understood the need to prove to himself that his dream of driving for Ferrari was worth it, that he hadn’t wasted his whole life and full dedication in a fizzled out disappointment. After the deaths of his father, and his godfather, Charles worked harder than ever to prove his skill to the world and he succeeded.
Years later that dream had wavered. But now, with Fred at the helm and a better car, things were looking back up. The days of Red Bull domination were waning. The other teams were battling it out, ruthless at this time of weakness for the team that had won all but a couple of races in the past few years. Dick’s team, sponsored by Bruce Wayne, was up there with Ferrari and McLaren, Mercedes not far behind. Although, Mercedes was only doing so well while they still had Lewis Hamilton driving for them; next year all of that would change with his move to Ferrari.
And that was another thing on Dick’s mind, especially as car 44 approached him from behind, the menacing threat becoming clearer in his side mirrors.
Charles was still losing his mind over the switch. Yeah it messed with team dynamics, something carefully built with Carlos Sainz through trial and error, but there was another layer to it. Charles was fostering a deep, and understandable, crush on Lewis.
The man really was the GOAT. Over a decade of success, both in the sport and out of it, would be admirable enough if he hadn’t also grown into a kind, funny, attractive man. And soon Charles would be spending a lot more time being a lot closer to him.
Fuck, he was doomed.
Dick, on the other hand, didn’t have a crush on another driver. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that he was crushing on one of his mechanics instead. Jason Todd had recently become noticed for being the hot, muscled mechanic that worked in Dick’s garage. Dick had seen a few of the Tik Toks other people had made from footage zooming into Jason’s bulging biceps as he had helped with guiding Dick and his car into the pit lane.
They already knew each other for years, before Jason joined his crew, but working together helped bring them closer, and Dick was all too willing to get even closer.
From the pit, Wally spoke up, passing along information through Dick’s radio. Tire management was key at this point, and they were trying to figure out if Charles would do a one-stop or a two-stop. With a fair amount of laps to go, but not enough of a guaranteed lead, Dick and his team were working through the options.
“What does Tim say?” Dick asked.
Tim Drake had come on as a strategist this season, his skills adept at determining other teams’ possible plans and making contingencies to counteract them. Dick loved being able to work with his younger brother; Bruce had an awkward position of being the owner and main financial backer of the team, which meant whenever he hired his sons, they got reamed for being nepo babies instead of being judged on their actual talents. Bruce wouldn’t have hired Tim, or Dick for that matter, if he didn’t think they were actually good at their jobs- and damnit they were.
“He says go for Plan B. Stay out, we’ll see how things go in 3 more laps,” Wally said, his firm voice keeping Dick’s racing heart steady.
Wally West was another great addition to Dick’s team. A racer in his own right, he understood the level of need to know information both from a technical standpoint and a mental one. Knowing the specific gaps between cars, or tire read outs is good for Dick, but not when he’s concentrating on avoiding debris from an earlier collision. Time and place was just as crucial to understand.
He was also a good friend of Dick’s, which meant he knew how to read Dick’s moods and mindset, knew when to push and when to let Dick do it himself. Wally was only second best to Charles in terms of his closeness to Dick. It made them a really good team.
As good as they were, this was still a race and other drivers occasionally could be better. Case in point was the way Lewis overtook Dick a few laps later, despite his best efforts at defending. Sure, it was frustrating, but as time went on and rubber continued to eat away at asphalt, the trio sped ahead to victory with a sizeable gap between them and the other drivers.
Charles won, Lewis came in P2, and Dick shared their podium snagging a P3 finish.
The feeling of elation still coursed through Dick either way, the result still phenomenal for his standings. Also, it meant that the post-race celebrations would be extra fun. The trio sat in the cooldown room, catching their breaths and guzzling water, watching the replays of the race.
“Ooh, that was a close one, good overtake Charles,” Lewis winced, turning to Charles after the screen show a near collision from earlier.
Thank god their faces were already red from racing because any compliment from Lewis made Charles blusher redder than his racing suit.
“T-thank you, Lewis. I think Oscar had some braking troubles there.”
Over the back of Lewis’ shoulder, Dick looked at Charles, expression wicked as he smirked and winked. If it weren’t for the cameras, Dick surely would’ve made some more obscene gestures, poking at the way Charles was becoming flustered from the direct attention Lewis was giving him.
The angry glare he received back from Charles made promises Dick hoped he would keep during their personal cool down fuck session. He liked it when Charles got a bit feisty, it usually guaranteed Dick would get to bottom this time.
Charles seemed to read the anticipation on Dick’s face loud and clear because he gathered his nerves just enough to subtly nod back at Dick, confirming his suspicions.
Oh yes, Dick would enjoy tonight.
“Ah, fuck, Charles, please, right there,” Dick panted as he rode his friend.
They hadn’t been able to sneak out of the Paddock completely, post-race debriefs and celebrations taking longer than usual. Honestly, they didn’t really mind though - Dick’s sleeping quarters were perfectly suitable for a quick fuck, especially after Dick made Bruce add soundproofing to the room a few months ago.
Right now, Charles had pulled the chair away from Dick’s desk to sit on, allowing Dick to settle on his lap in order to bounce on Charles’ cock. Charles had his hands gripped tight on Dick’s hips, letting Dick do most of the work for the moment.
“You are so beautiful like this, Grayson,” Charles said, eyes latched onto Dick’s gorgeous face. The man was already considered one of the hottest men in the Paddock, but mid-fuck after a race? Outstanding.
“Yeah? Show me how much you like me, pretty boy,” Dick smirked down at Charles, taunting him.
Charles’ grip shifted so he could take over the movement of Dick’s hips, now slamming Dick down harder onto his cock. The whimpers from Dick at the changed angle were a sign that Charles managed to hit his prostate, sending shocks of pleasure up Dick’s spine. He bent over, hands coming down to grab onto the back of the chair on either side of Charles’ head, curling in as the sensations made Dick’s body tremble.
“That’s right, take it, gorgeous,” Charles growled out, face scrunching up.
It was then that the sound of Dick’s ass slapping against Charles was briefly interrupted by a shocked gasp.
Dick looked up at the doorway over the top of Charles’ head, surprised. Shit, he thought he locked the door.
As soon as he saw who was standing there, terror gripped him. No, no, no not him! Jason Todd was standing in the doorway frozen in shock. And, unfortunately for Dick, the moment they made eye contact was the moment Charles (who was still unaware of the intruder) bit down hard onto Dick’s stretched out neck. Between the bite, the already pounding sensitivity of his body still being rammed into with Charles’ dick, and the sight of Jason (who is really too hot for his own good) catching him in the act which just so happened to be a secret fantasy of his, Dick couldn’t stop his orgasm if he tried.
Eyes still locked onto each other, Jason got a front row seat as Dick came harder than ever before. Dick nearly screamed at the rapid and intense pleasure that shot through him. Jason’s eyes widened, and thank god he had some brain cells working because he quickly stepped into the room and shut the door behind him before Dick’s noises could make it further down the hall to other prying ears.
Ok, maybe half a brain cell, because now he was trapped in the room as a spent Dick Grayson was still being fucked down onto Charles Leclerc’s cock.
Dick whined, the overstimulation of getting fucked after coming being one of his favourite parts, but his brain was way too muddled with the sight of Jason still in the room. “J-Jasoon!” he whimpered.
Poor sweet Charles didn’t realize why he said it, as it wasn’t the first time Dick had said Jason’s name during sex. “You like thinking about Jason fucking you like this? Imagine him in this chair with you? Like to imagine riding his dick all night?”
Oh god, if Dick could come again he would. Jason clearly heard every word as a red flush quickly bloomed across his face, eyes still glued onto Dick.
“F-fuck Charles,” Dick’s attempt to shut Charles up was really truly weak. He had enough awareness that he caught onto Jason’s flush, immediately curious. Enough brainpower to take note, but not enough to stop his next words. Words that would change everything. “Yes, I do!”
There’s no way Jason didn’t hear, didn’t understand what Dick was responding to. Charles grunted up into Dick’s neck and finally came deep inside of him, bringing Dick down to melt into his lap. Dick closed his eyes for a second, allowing them both to catch their breaths, knowing he’d have to face the other man in the room in a second.
Discreetly, Dick whispered into Charles’ ear in French, “Darling, do not panic, he is standing in the room right now.”
“What?” Charles curved his neck around the best he could and jumped slightly at Jason who now was looking everywhere but at the naked couple. “What!”
Reflexively Charles wrapped his arms around Dick’s waist, pulling him flush against Charles’ chest with an oomph! That little noise got Jason’s attention swiveling back to them, albeit with awkwardness clear throughout his body.
Being calm in the face of dangerous situations is a well-honed skill of the race drivers, especially now evident as Charles cleared his throat and asked, back in English, “What are you doing here, Jason?”
“I-I was coming to ask Dick if he’d like to join some of the team for dinner, but I can see you’re busy. I’m so so sorry for interrupting -” Jason seemed to snap out of his surprise, backing away to the door.
“Oh, no it’s ok, let me just get cleaned up and I will leave you two.”
Dick looked down in panic at Charles, subtly shaking his head no. Charles was too aware of the tension between the other men, just wicked enough to make them both face each other alone after this, and Dick knew there was no stopping Charles with this.
Giving in, Dick awkwardly clambered off Charles’ lap, quickly grabbing the first piece of fabric he could to cover himself as Charles, the absolute no-shame fucker, got up and walked into the ensuite bathroom still naked. He came back a moment later with a wet cloth he tossed towards Dick to help clean himself up, Jason standing in the corner trying not to look at them. Charles quickly got dressed, helping Dick put on a comfy robe, and kissed the top of his head before turning back to the door.
“You take care of him, or I’ll cut your balls off. Have fun!” Charles said, pushing past Jason to leave the room, soundly shutting the door behind him.
Dick could only groan and bury his face in his hands, falling back onto his bed. “I’m so sorry about him.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. So you two…” Jason asked, still standing in his spot, hesitant to come closer.
Peeking through his fingers at Jason, Dick decided to take pity on him. “It’s not like you think. C’mon, sit down. Get comfy.”
Jason eyed the singular chair in the room, too wary to sit in it after what he just witnessed, instead slowly coming to sit on the bed next to Dick who had sat up and grabbed a pillow to rest in the lap of his crossed legs. With a sigh he turned to face Jason, preparing to explain himself.
“I know you understand the stress and adrenaline racing puts us through. Charles and I figured out that sometimes a good fuck is what we need to come down from the highs of racing without crashing too hard, so, sometimes after a race we’ll meet up to get it out of our system.”
“How… how long have you been doing this?”
Dick shrugged. “Since we were teenagers? We aren’t, like, together. Dating. We’re still just friends, maybe closer than most. He knows I-” Oh god, Dick looks up with a blush at Jason, who was catching onto what Dick was remembering. What had been said at the end there.
A slow smile grows on Jason’s face as he fully processes it all. “He knows you’d rather be fucking me, doesn’t he?”
Jason leans back, placing his hands behind him on the bed, making sure to stretch out and show off a little in front of Dick. With the way Dick’s eyes follow his movements, glued onto his biceps before switching to stare at the sliver of skin that showed as Jason’s shirt lifted up his toned stomach slightly, Jason knew he had assessed the situation correctly. Jason’s eyes burrowed into Dick’s head, cruel understanding filling him.
Dick gulped, “Yes.”
Taking a second to look Dick up and down, Jason came to a quick and easy decision. “Text him.”
“What?”
“Text him. Tell him you won’t need his help anymore.”
Immediately Dick snapped his eyes up to stare into Jason’s. “What do you mean?”
“Tell him that you won’t need his help anymore because I’ll be the one fucking you after every race from now on.”
And goddamnit if that wasn’t enough to make Dick’s cock get interested again. He was young enough, his refractory period wasn’t too bad, and Dick had had enough time to rest that his interest was clearly coming back in full force. Dick’s pupils dilated, his breath hitching. “Is that a promise?”
“Of course it is birdie. I don’t like to share what’s mine, just so we’re clear,” Jason said, his own breaths deepening as an almost predatory look was darkening his expression.
“We’re clear on that, definitely clear. I’ll tell him right now!” Dick jumped off the bed to grab his phone which was sitting on the desk. As he hurriedly typed out a message to Charles, Jason came up behind him, hands grabbing onto Dick’s hips pulling him back flush against Jason’s body. Jason leaned in, nipping at Dick’s ear.
“What do you say, pretty bird, got it in you for round two?”
The clatter of Dick’s phone against the desktop went unnoticed as Dick swiftly turned in Jason’s arms, finally after years of yearning closing the distance between them and kissing Jason deeply on the lips.
The ping of a responding message also went unnoticed as they fell into bed, Dick scrambling at Jason’s clothes, wanting to get them off as soon as possible.
On Dick’s phone, Charles had texted back. You owe me so much for this!! Let me know how it goes Dickie ;) I’m so happy for you! Now for what to do about Lewis...