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horndog

@motorsport-jesus made me do it, okay...

puppy play: beznaia | Alex/Franky if you squint | for the rpf summer camp

He loses sight of Bez somewhere between the third pink bubblegum shot and another Britney Spears song. The vodka sticks to his teeth like velvet and Pecco presses the pad of his finger against it. 

“Why are you sucking your fingers?” Franky asks on his right, and elbows Pecco in the ribs. 

“Bez usually sucks them for me.” He says, matter-of-fact. It’s true. Bez loves sucking on Pecco’s fingers. Licking the disgusting kale smoothies from between Pecco’s fingers makes the whole athlete diet thing a lot more fun. 

The bass thumps through the floor into Pecco’s body like a metronome and his lips pop as he pulls out his finger. It’s shiny and looks almost alien underneath the red strobe lights above them. Something wicked sparks inside his chest and in retaliation, he rubs his spit-slicked finger against Franky’s nose. 

“Stop that. Ew, fuck off.” He yelps and throws a handful of soggy popcorn at him. “Disgusting.” 

Franky’s entire face scrunches up and he wipes furiously at his nose – it’s not like his own sweat-soaked shirt is much better – and Pecco knows he’s forgiven when Franky leans over and shoves his tongue into his ear. 

“Urgh, fuck– stop we’re even alright.” Pecco laughs and rubs his own sleeve against his ear. 

“I think my teeth are furry.” Pecco says, as they settle into the booth and look at where Mig is trying to get Celin to do the lift from Dirty Dancing. Bez is still missing. Sava too. And Pecco tries very very hard not to think about that. It’s fine, they’re friends, teammates. It’s a coincidence, he’s sure. 

“How much did you drink Francesco?” Alex says somewhere over Pecco’s shoulder and he startles so hard he goes sideways out of the booth. “Fuck– Pecco, are you alright?” 

He swats away Alex’ hand where it’s stretched out above him. The floor is quite nice, he can see the whole world from down here. Red and pink and blue lights make the edges of everything seem less sharp and it’s nice. Then an angel appears; halo the same color as the shots Pecco had earlier and funny little snaggle teeth like Bez and– 

“Why are you on the floor?” Bez asks, looking down at Pecco with his big beautiful eyes. 

Pecco doesn’t answer, instead he just holds up his arms and grunts when Marco flops down on top of him. The weight of him is nice and Pecco can’t really remember why it’s a bad idea for him to lick Marco’s neck. They’ve celebrated like this before in the paddock, Pecco rutting against Bez and he rolls them over because Bez is half-hard against him and– 

Someone hauls him up, hands under his armpits. 

“Jesus, Francesco. Let’s get home.” Franky says somewhere above Pecco’s head. Bez is leaning on Mig and Alex Marquez is walking in front of them with a car key dangling from his finger. 

Celin disappears and when Mig goes to retrieve him, Bez spots something and takes off with the spirit of a drunk hobbit on an adventure. Pecco looks up and a rush of panic rushes through as Marco gets further away. 

“Bez. Marco!” He shouts, loud enough to make himself jump a little – Bez freezes, halfway across the parking lot – and turns around, head down. Pecco beckons with his hand, the universal come hither motion. “C’mere.”  

Bez half-jogs back to them, legs uneasy from alcohol and when he reaches Pecco, he rubs his cheek against his shirt and makes a noise like a wounded animal. Spitting out a mouthful of Bez’ hair, Pecco wraps his arms around him and strokes his clammy back. They stand there, swaying together from alcohol and something else and Pecco doesn’t want to ever let go. 

“At this point you might as well just get him a collar and a leash, eh.” Franky snorts. 

“Wh-what?” 

Shaking his head, Franky swats him on the ass. “It’s a joke Franzi, you’re treating him like a puppy sometimes. It’s cute, that's all. Get in the car.” 

“Hm.” Pecco shrugs, trying to ignore the way his heart rate picks up as Franky’s words ping pongs around his head. A collar– a collar and a leash. Like a dog– a beast. Something to own and care for and treat and– and breed.

———————

“Francesco,” Vale smirks, his sunglasses pushed all the way up onto his head as he hands him an espresso. “I heard some very interesting things about last night.” 

Pecco really isn’t in the mood to play mind games with Vale today. His head is throbbing with an almighty hangover and his entire body feels like it’s been through the gravel and back thrice over. 

“Did you try to fuck Marco on the floor of the club like a horndog?” 

The mouthful of espresso goes down wrong and Pecco splutters as he hacks up a half a lung trying to get rid of it. Vale just smirks wider, eyes glinting with mischief, and cocks his head sideways.

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That dam dog is truly their baby

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20

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The stray soldiers Marquez and VR46 princes(knights) and King Valentino

Based on this post.

(Close up ver under cut)

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video the commentators asking bezz if he has a boyfriend:))

turn up the volume!!

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scorched, our brittle hearts - prelude

Summary:

It’s FP1. It’s only fucking FP1.

It’s FP1 in fucking Sepang.

It’s FP1 in fucking Sepang and Alex is battling Marc for the championship. The gap is so damn small, they’re saying it will come down to the last race, the last corner.

It’s FP1 in Sepang and Alex was knocked out by Luca fucking Marini crashing into him.

It’s FP1 in fucking Sepang and there’s a Ducati in the gravel coming to a terrifying halt on top of its rider.

Pecco crashes in Sepang. Marc saves his life. His arm is never the same. Everyone deals in their own way. Read on AO3

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made a design for an omamori（？ but its too expensive to print it out、 、trying to save my money or open commission after finals

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Wip of Model Alex/ pecco AU!!!⬇️⬇️

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practice

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Roby &Bez minibike era

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不知道为什么这张在哪里色差都很大

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Migno（？

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if you take reqs, can u draw bezzetti? ❤️

You can yell at me for being this late anon… anyway here we go with bezzetti!!

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his tail must be wagging so hard rn