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formulaes5 · 5 months

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there’s my audience (there’s my arrogance)

Jenson watched as Seb bent over, sticking his pert little ass out in those stupid plaid shorts riding low on his waist. He had to do a double take when he saw it, not quite believing his eyes. Red lace and delicate satin; thin straps with gold detailing. What the fuck. In which Seb is begging for it, Mark is more than happy to give it to him, and Jenson faces the moral dilemma of the ethics surrounding jerking off to your friends while they fuck next door.

☆ 5k, E, ao3 ☆

It was dark when they got back to the hotel, night having well and truly fallen by the time they had escaped the post race debrief.

They walked into the deserted lobby side by side, sneakers squeaking on tile as they talked over their races in significantly less technical terms than the debrief. They stood together, Seb leaning into Mark ever so slightly as they waited for the elevator. It took them a minute to notice Jenson – or, more accurately, for him to notice them – sat in a big armchair in the corner of the lobby, flipping idly through a magazine somebody had left behind on a coffee table.

“Hey, you two!” he called across the room, waving them over with a grin, “What time do you call this? Your mother and I have been worried sick!” he said strictly, attempting to affect a stern look and failing miserably, letting a giggle slip.

Mark rolled his eyes, taking a seat in the armchair adjacent to Jenson with a sigh. “What are you doing up then mate?” he asked, “must be past your bedtime too huh?”

“Well obviously I was waiting for you,” Jenson smiled charmingly, not quite up to admitting that he had been scared out of his room by a not exactly large spider.

Seb followed Mark sedately, throwing himself down dramatically into a chair across from them, before looking down in annoyance, clocking an untied shoelace. He stood up with a groan, then moved to bend over, side on to Jenson and Mark.

Jenson watched as Seb bent over, sticking his pert little ass out in those stupid plaid shorts riding low on his waist. He had to do a double take when he saw it, not quite believing his eyes.

Red lace and delicate satin; thin straps with gold detailing.

What the fuck.

He stared, eyes wide, taking in the strappy waist, the lace detailing, the way the back narrowed, tapering out and disappearing beneath his shorts, presumably to rest between his cheeks. It was indecent, scandalous; he wanted to see where the string went.

He tore his eyes away from Seb’s behind and looked over at Mark incredulously, not even noticing Jenson’s eyes on him as he stared so blatantly at Sebastian’s ass that it was nearly comical; eyes wide and lips parted. Jenson was sure he had looked the same.

Mark snapped his eyes to Jenson, who had returned his own eyes to Seb, still bent over tying his shoe. He took in the look on Jenson’s face, the way he was looking at Seb. He looked hungry.

That wouldn’t do. Not at all. This wasn’t the first time he had caught Jenson staring at Sebastian, and normally he didn’t even mind it. but this time something was different. He felt possessive, which was ridiculous in of itself; he knew that Seb only had eyes for him. He still wasn’t liking the way that Jenson’s eyes were boring into Sebastian, though. This was something more than casual flirtation — this was desire.

Jenson turned back to Mark, seeing the hard look on his face. He did the first thing that came to mind, the first thing that always came to mind — he made a joke — which was also the worst idea of his entire fucking life.

“Hey Seb,” he said conversationally. Then he dropped the bomb.

“Nice panties mate!”

Seb nearly fell over in his rush to stand up, whirling around as he stood. His face was the same colour as his underwear. The one time that he had forgotten to do laundry before a race week and been left with only his, ahem, racier pairs of underwear to choose from. He thought briefly about abandoning his career and running away to become a forest hermit; surely that would be better than whatever the outcome of Jenson knowing the exact contents of his underwear drawer would be.

“I… Wh– huh?” he stammered, not even sure what to say in this situation. He looked over at Mark, trying to force as much ‘jesus fucking christ please help’, into the look as he could. Jenson was looking at him with something that Seb couldn’t quite parse written across his face. Mark should be in his corner here really, he rationalised to himself desperately, as he looked across at the two other men, especially considering how much he had enjoyed peeling this particular pair off of him with his teeth last time they had made an appearance.

They had come to a standstill, nobody sure what to say but all three of them fully aware of the root of the issue. As well as the colour of the issue.

Jenson looked at Mark, then back at Seb, then back at Mark again. Seb was flushed from his head all the way down his neck, and Mark had a certain set to his eyebrows that was usually a precursor to one of his hissy fits.

“Well,” Mark slapped his hands down on his thighs, breaking what was possibly the most awkward silence in all of human history as he stood, “I’m going up to bed.”

Not what Jenson was expecting.

He watched as Mark moved towards Seb in long strides, taking him by the waist and pulling him along towards the elevators. Manhandling would probably be the correct term. Jenson was vaguely aware of the fact that Seb and Mark had a thing going on between them, it was honestly kind of impossible not to see the way they orbited around each other when you spent enough time with the two of them. Maybe he had crossed a line by staring too hard, he wasn’t sure, but Mark never seemed to have a problem with the casual flirting that Seb and Jenson did, all too often he would laugh along with them, flirt back with Jenson if he was feeling like playing.

Jenson watched them go, trying – somewhat guiltily – to see if he could get another peak at whatever the fuck Seb was wearing under his shorts, to no avail. He sighed, dropping his head down into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Jenson was never normally one to judge, but the idea of skinny, gawky, fashion disaster Seb wearing lacy, strappy, women’s underwear would nearly be laughable if it wasn’t so goddamn hot.

His cheeks were aflame under his palms. He felt like he was sixteen again, blushing like a ripe tomato, heat rising in his cheeks after he’d seen a fair bit more of the contents of his girlfriend’s dresser drawers that he had intended to. Why the fuck was it so hot, and what else was Seb wearing under his clothes?

Jenson groaned in despair. This was so not okay.

He decided to take the stairs back up to his room, not trusting himself to wait for the elevator with those two, not to mention he would then be trapped in an enclosed space with Seb and his panties — and Mark’s eyebrows.

Jenson took the stairs two at a time, moving at a record pace. He stopped several floors up, shouldering his way out the door of the stairwell and making it back to his room.

He flopped down on the bed with a sigh, looking around for the spider to no avail before debating the merits of jerking off before bed; he wasn’t sure if getting off to the memory of his friend bent over in lacy panties could really be considered good form, but it probably couldn’t hurt, especially if he never told Seb – or looked at him or spoke to him ever again. Probably not practical in the long run.

He was pulled from his musing by a vaguely wooden sounding thunk from the next room over. Mark’s room, to be precise. It was probably just Mark knocking something over with his stupid long arms, he thought to himself, though it did sound a bit far away. Maybe it was something in the corridor? There was definitely a normal, entirely non Seb and Mark having sex reason for the noise. Definitely.

That reasoning was promptly thrown out the window along with his sanity when he heard the next noise. A loud thump against the shared wall of the two rooms, followed by an entirely pornographic, decidedly Sebastianesque, moan.

“What the fuck?” Jenson whispered under his breath, “whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck.”

Next door, Seb was going through a similar thought process.

The charged make out in the elevator up from the lobby had been Textbook Mark. Getting shoved up against an elevator wall was nothing new to Seb, nor was the hot and heavy makeout that followed; tongues and teeth and the hot press of Mark’s body against his, hands fisted in his shirt and a thigh slotted between his own, delivering delicious, perfect pressure where he needed it the most.

What was out of the ordinary, was the way that Mark pressed him up against the outside of his hotel room door, kissing him right in full view of anyone who might have been traversing the corridors late at night, fighting jet lag or just heading out for a midnight snack. Seb thought about it for a second as he kissed Mark back just as aggressively, grabbed at Mark’s shoulders. Did he mind it? He didn’t think he did. A small, rational part of his brain acknowledged the risk of being discovered by a member of one of the several teams staying at the hotel, and the devastating consequences that would be associated for both of them, before a larger, hornier part of his brain dismissed the worry. He’d never been fucked against a door before, he thought as he laved his tongue up Mark’s neck; there was always time for new experiences though.

Fortunately for both of their reputations and future racing careers, Mark had other ideas. He fumbled for his keycard, swiping it over the electronic panel clumsily before pushing the door open and walking Seb backwards into the room, hands still held tightly around his waist as he licked into his mouth, sucking at Seb’s bottom lip with vigour. He pushed him back further into the room, bypassing the bed entirely and shoving him roughly against the back wall, still coherent enough to cup the back of Seb’s head with his hand so as not to concuss him before the main event.

Seb moaned. Loudly.

It was the kind of moan that carried across a room and left nothing to the imagination, the kind of moan that generally indicated that his night was going very, very right. Something about the rough treatment was really doing it for him tonight in a way that it didn’t often, the hard surface of the wall against his back grounding him in reality. They had their fair share of rough sex, mostly after races, getting the frustration of a DNF or a fucked up strategy out of their systems, but this was different, charged in a way that it never really was. Not even when the sex they had was rougher, more accurately classed as hate fucking than anything else. It was certainly after a race, that much could be said, but the race itself was the last thing on their minds right now.

“Careful Sebi,” Mark teased, pressing a long leg back between Seb’s, “Thin walls here, we don’t want Jenson to hear do we?”

Sebastian’s reaction was out of proportion. He pushed down into Mark’s leg with a whine, his entire body shuddering at the thought of Jenson hearing him moan, hearing as Mark fucked him.

The part of Seb that was still conscious thought that maybe he would file that one under secret. He didn’t think that he could possibly ever look Jenson in the eye again, it was already bad enough that he had discovered his proclivity for pretty underwear, even if it had turned him on to feel Jenson’s eyes on him, as well as see the jealousy written clear as day across Mark’s face. He shook his head in desperate denial.

Mark – once again – had other ideas, “Oh?” he laughed, “that’s interesting sweetheart, because from where I’m standing it looks like you do want him to hear, hm?”

From where Mark was standing, Seb looked desperate for it, blushing and squirming on his thigh. Seb went crimson, the playful condescending tone in Mark’s voice sending him reeling. They did it like this occasionally, Mark taking the lead, talking smooth enough and playing rough enough to leave Seb feeling woefully off balance and nearly desperate to do whatever Mark wanted.

“I think you wanted him to see as well, didn’t you baby?” he teased, nipping at Seb’s neck, “Prancing around downstairs, bending over so he could see your pretty panties. You wanted him to see.” He reached down to Seb’s waist, pushing at his shorts to reveal the skimpy waist of the thong, pulled high over his hip. He worked a finger underneath the elastic and snapped it against his skin.

“Nooo,” Seb whined, protesting the truth as best he could, shaking his head and closing his eyes. He was a little bit embarrassed to have been turned on at essentially being called a slut, but right now he was more embarrassed over the fact that Mark was right. He had wanted Jenson to see, once he had gotten over the initial embarrassment of accidentally flashing a coworker, and after that he had wanted Mark to see Jenson see him.

That, however, was the extent of what he wanted, he had no idea what he had been hoping to achieve, rucking up the bottom of his shirt as he bent over to tie his shoe, other than using Jenson to fulfil his own agenda of getting well and truly fucked, which looked like it would be on the cards tonight.

Mark wasn’t typically jealous – he knew that what they had was solid – so this newfound jealousy was a delicious change to their usual games. He’d never thought about having an audience before, never really even considered it. What he and Mark did in the privacy of their own bedroom, hotel room or shady corner in the back of the garage was nobody’s business but their own. But what if it was? What if there was someone listening in, watching Mark take Sebastian apart with large, practised hands, taking his pleasure from their own. Seb felt light headed as he thought about it all, rubbing his body into Mark’s with a moan.

Mark stroked a hand down Seb’s cheek, moving his hand to rest at the hollow of his throat, not tightening, not applying any pressure, just resting over his collarbones suggestively. “Well that’s too bad sweetheart, because he doesn’t get to look,” Mark said sharply, flexing his fingers slightly, “you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

Seb nodded rapidly. He was Mark’s as much as Mark was his.

“Oh, but you still want him to hear you, hm? Of course you like an audience,” he chuckled, sweeping a lock of blond hair out of his face with his unoccupied hand, “egotistical little thing, aren’t you?”

Seb keened, rutting down into Mark’s thigh, rock hard against satin and lace, and the hard zipper of his shorts. His blush was constant, embarrassment coming off him in waves as he stared up at Mark, trying to lean in for a kiss to soften the burn of it all, but stayed held in place by Mark’s hand.

Mark took pity on him magnanimously, leaning down to leave a train of wet kisses across the stubble on his jaw. “Aw, poor baby,” Mark simpered, “I know, I know sweetheart, an audience of one isn’t much, but it’s gonna have to do for tonight.”

He leaned back in, connecting his mouth to Seb’s in a deep, open mouthed affair, teeth latched onto lips and spit smeared over his chin. He tugged at the bottom of Seb’s shirt as he parted from him, wanting it gone, wanting to put his hands all over his fuzzy little body; wanting to make him feel so good, to give him no choice but to be loud in his appreciation of how good Mark made him feel.

Seb lifted his arms, letting Mark pull his t-shirt up and off his body, then leaned back against the wall to watch Mark divest himself of his own shirt. He ran his hands through the hair on Mark’s chest, over his shoulders and across his back, pulling him in to kiss him again, swiping his tongue over Mark’s bottom lip before biting down, catching his lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth before letting him go again.

“You want him to hear you moaning on my cock, don’t you,” Mark taunted him, rubbing at the hardened nub of a pink nipple as Seb trembled, “want him to hear how good I fuck you?”

“Nghhh,” Seb moaned, “Mark— please…”

“Stay there for me Sebi.” said Mark as he strode across the room to rummage through his suitcase, watching over his shoulder as Seb let his shorts fall to the ground, pooling at his ankles to reveal his hard cock, barely contained by the sheer fabric of his panties. Fuck, he was gorgeous.

Mark returned to Sebastian’s side, lube in hand as he looked up and down his body before landing on those goddamn panties, darkened with precome and looking entirely too fashionable to be on Seb’s body. He stroked a hand reverently over Seb’s cock, garnering a little moan and a full body shiver in response.

Sebastian always looked good in what he called his “interesting underwear”, no matter what it was — lace, cotton, silk — he always looked beautiful. But right now, with soft, dark red satin stretched indecently over his hardness, trimmed with scalloped lace in a brighter red against his milky white thighs, he looked mouth wateringly gorgeous, good enough to eat, and — most importantly — he looked like Mark’s.

Mark sank to his knees in front of Seb, “Gorgeous,” he murmured, taking in the way the light glinted off the little gold rings linking the strappy waist to the gusset, before flattening his tongue over the front of Seb’s panties, tasting him through the fabric. Seb keened, pressing his hard cock into the jut of Mark’s chin. Mark redoubled his efforts, saturating the already wet fabric with his spit as he sucked at Seb’s cock through the underwear, before tucking his hand under it and pulling Seb free from the confines of the satin. “So gorgeous for me sweetheart…”

He suckled at the head of Seb’s cock, salt bursting across his tongue as he licked up a drop of precome welling at the tip, before taking him into his mouth with a hum of appreciation, hooking a finger under the satin back of the thong and pulling it out of the way. Mark prepped Seb carefully as he sucked gently on his cock, stretching him out around his slick fingers, scissoring them apart and working them in and out of his tight hole, rubbing up against his walls, angling his fingers just the right way to make Seb moan loudly into the silence, not sure whether to push back onto Mark’s fingers in the search for more or rock forward into his mouth.

He gave Seb a final few thrusts in and out with three fingers, hollowing his cheeks around his cock before pulling off, removing his fingers from his hole and getting back to his feet. He pulled Seb off the wall and spun him around, pressing him back into the wall just as quickly, cheek squished into the wall and ass out.

“This good?” Mark checked.

Seb nodded furiously. If Mark stopped their game now before it even got started, he was going to put serious consideration into going next door and getting Jenson to finish the job.

“Words, sweetheart,” Mark encouraged, stroking over the back of his shoulder.

“Yes,” he gasped, “It’s good – I’m good. Do something.”

Mark brought his hand down on Seb’s backside in a light warning slap, digging his fingers into the meat of his ass and eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Sebastian. “Beautiful…” he whispered, just for them to hear.

“Mark,” Seb whined petulantly, feeling empty and unmoored without Mark’s touch, inside and out, impatiently waiting for Mark to step out of his jeans and fist his cock with a groan, tugging at his length with a lubed hand. Mark lined up and sank slowly into Sebastian in one long thrust, cursing under his breath as he bottomed out, rocking his hips gently into the tight heat of his hole.

“Fuck, Sebi,” he groaned, “So good for me, aren’t you?”

Seb moaned into the wall in response, pushing back onto Mark’s cock, in an effort to get him to speed up. He wanted more, wanted all of him, loved the stretch and the pressure and the sudden slap of skin on skin as Mark snapped his hips forward, startling a noise out of Seb as he was pushed forwards against the wall with no warning.

“Oh!” Seb gasped, overwhelmed by the sudden sensation of being full, Mark pressed up against him in a scorching line, his cock fully seated inside him. Mark snapped his hips forwards again experimentally, trying to work out exactly what debauched sounds he could wring from Sebastian as he fucked into his addictive tightness, deep and hungry.

“That’s it Sebi,” he encouraged, “doing such a good job for me… So pretty in your little panties, of course Jense was staring.”

Seb moaned at the praise, pressing his face into the wall as he did.

On the other side of the wall, Jenson was having some fucking problems, to put it lightly. Mark was right. The walls here were thin. Despite being tangentially aware of the fact that it existed, he was woefully unprepared for a front row seat to his two friend’s sex lives, even though he wouldn’t exactly mind being involved in it, but this was an intense primer. The dynamic really shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, of course Seb and Mark got into some weird shit between races. At the very least, it certainly explained why they were the way they were with each other; a strange combination of sweet, soft affection, and hard, biting words.

Whatever they were right now managed to combine both those things, and it was all coming to a head against Jenson’s goddamn wall, staccato moans and accompanying thumps as Mark fucked Seb into the wall in a consistant, almost hypnotic rhythm. He was sat in a hotel room listening to his coworkers talk about him as they fucked against his wall. Because that was where he was at these days apparently.

He made his decision. Consequences be damned. If Mark didn’t want him to jerk off to the sound of him blowing Seb’s back out, then maybe he shouldn’t be fucking Sebastian against his wall, talking about him listening to them fuck.

He kicked his pants off with a sigh of acceptance. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to be making eye contact with either of the men on the other side of the wall anytime soon, he thought, then dipped his hand into his boxers and settled in for what would no doubt be the guiltiest wank of his life, easily beating the time he had rubbed one out to the picture of hot twink Stalin in his GCSE modern history textbook. Such things were really best forgotten.

“Is that good?” Mark’s voice came slightly muffled through the wall, “Do you think he’s in there baby… Listening to you take it so beautifully for me?” he asked, followed by more moaning from Sebastian. The fact that they had even managed to keep their relationship a secret from most people was baffling to Jenson, because Sebastian was not being subtle about exactly who was fucking him. His grasp of the English language had devolved solely into chanting Mark’s name (loudly) interspersed with pleas for “more” and “harder”.

Jenson had moved on from denial to acceptance, fully on board with his new reality now. He was ready to admit that this was hot as fuck . He abandoned his questions of the morality of his actions in favour of spitting into his hand and stroking his cock faster, groaning at the sensation as he twisted his wrist on the upstroke.

Mark was in heaven, fucking into Sebastian’s silky tight hole and murmuring filth into his ear like it was his job, Seb babbling in an incomprehensible combination of languages in response, English words that blended into German half way through; German that blended into breathy moans and desperate sobs, Mark’s name, bitte bitte bitte. He reached around Seb’s waist, taking his weeping cock in hand and jerking it to the fast paced tempo of his thrusts, glad that his trainer had been putting him through his paces on the cardio front as of late.

“Ah… Sebi,” Mark groaned, "you're being so loud for me baby— for him." Seb keened high in his throat as Mark took him apart methodically, his thick cock slamming into him, keeping him pinned against the wall. “Moaning nice and loud so Jense can hear how well you take it? How well I fuck you?”

Seb did his best to stay with the rhythm, pushing his ass back into Mark as he rutted into him, the slick, filthy sound of Mark thrusting inside him going right to his dick, Mark's hand tight around Seb’s cock, leaking pre and jolting with every slap of skin.

Mark thought about it for a second, considered the merits and consequences— then he moved in for the kill. “Do you think he’s touching himself sweetheart? That you’re making him feel good?”

Seb wailed, convinced that he was about to implode. He was going to blush so hard and moan so loud that his only course of action would be to spontaneously combust under the pressure of the hot rush of shame and arousal running through him. Mark was taking him hard and fast against a wall, and on the other side of the wall was Jenson — Jenson who might be touching himself to the slap of Mark's full balls on his ass, to the noises he was making.

Sebastian’s skin felt hot, burning even, his breath hitched, feeling the coiling tension in his abdomen rise to a crescendo. It was all too much — Mark’s cock slamming into that perfect spot inside him, Mark’s hand spreading pre up and down his length, the way he had him pinned, pressed into the wall with no option but to take what he was given; Jenson on the other side of the wall, breathing heavily — Seb came with a plaintive cry, spattering against the wall wetly as he fell into it, like a marionette who’s strings had been cut. He felt boneless and exhausted, compounded by the way Mark was still thrusting into him at a frenzied pace, overwhelming his senses.

Mark emptied himself into Sebastian with a drawn out groan, holding on tightly as his walls spasmed through his own orgasm, contracting around his girth and moaning at the feeling of being filled so perfectly, Mark’s cock grinding into his prostate as he came inside him, moulding himself to Sebastian’s back as they breathed heavily together.

Mark pulled out with a groan, the fluttering of Sebastian’s inner walls rapidly becoming too much for his sensitive cock to handle. Seb moaned one final time, feeling empty but well fucked, floaty and tired, and vaguely aware of Mark’s come running down his leg. Mark pressed soft kisses to the back of Seb’s neck, under his ear, and across his cheek, slowly pulling Seb around to face him, connecting their mouths in a languid, easy kiss.

"Mmh, love you sweetheart." he murmured into Sebastian's ear as they parted, soft and sweet and just for Seb, before nudging him in the direction of the bathroom.

On the other side of the wall, Jenson had fallen over the edge right after Sebastian, eyes closed and mouth open in a perfect O, spurting come over his fist and onto the sheets beneath him. He let out a shaky breath as the haze cleared from his brain, wiping his release off his hand onto the crisp white sheets. He slumped back into the pillows, not all together sure what he was feeling at the moment, and thought about what he had done.

What the fuck had just happened?

☆☆☆

Jenson walked into breakfast the next day feeling nervous, on the lookout for Seb and Mark in case he needed to make an embarrassment-fuelled quick escape. He catalogued the exits as he grabbed a plate and joined the line, debated the merits of jumping over the buffet table in his grand escape just for the drama of it all.

“Are you gonna move or what, Jense?”

“Fuck!” startled Jenson, nearly dropping the plate in reaction to hearing Mark, who was currently laughing at him – the bastard.

“Yep,” he squeaked, moving along the gap in the queue and trying not to think about Mark and Sebastian having loud aggressive sex against a wall, failing miserably. His cheeks burned as he tried to physically shake the thought from his head.

“Hi Jense!” Seb chirped happily, startling him – again – by popping up from fucking nowhere.

Mark shot him a look, “You good?”

“Yep, yep, you know me, always good.” he said as casually as he could, before turning towards Sebastian to say good morning, filling his plate as they moved through the line.

Jenson floundered for a moment, trying to find the words to fill the silence as the three of them left the line and walked towards a table. He opened his mouth in preparation to say something very normal, and not at all associated with the events of last night.

“Good night’s sleep?” Jenson asked, immediately beating himself over the head with a large mental stick. Idiot .

“Oh yeah, slept like a rock,” Mark answered.

“Yeah I’ll bet you did,” Jenson muttered under his breath, before he could do something like have a a single fucking thought.

Shit. Shit fuck shit.

He looked up from his plate slowly, fearing the worst. Seb wasn’t even paying attention, too busy eating breakfast (thank fuck). He looked to the left, and then it all fell apart. Mark was just sitting there smirking at him, looking entirely too pleased for the conversation at hand. Then he winked at him.

“Glad you had a good night too, Jense.”

Ah, shit.

#anyway heres 5k of blatant smut i will take my leave now #sebmark #martian #f1 rpf #ao3 #my fics #possibly i went insane writing this #sebmarkson #is that the ship tag??#rpf #nsfw.txt #fic: there’s my audience (there’s my arrogance)

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