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logiesarge2 · 3 days ago

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LUCA I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOOOVE YOUUUYL

He better keep Vale AWAY from my baby boy or else...oh please please pleeeaaasseee Ray have Luca yell at Vale i beg you😩

Also fuck you Uccio

David I adore you. You go put uccio and vale in their place carinño

Shadow of the past running past

My baby, my baby chapter 11

Child of divorce AU

Something that he would never admit was that Uccio always had an eye on the kid.

He justified it to himself as knowing and understanding Rossi’s rival. He tried to find a different in Marquez racing when his son was at the track. Maybe he’d race less aggressive if he knew his child was in the box?

He never did.

Still, the Italian gathered the information he got on the boy. As if as along as he understood every aspect of Marquez life, it’d be easier to beat him. Somehow.

But if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that this wasn’t just for the sake of understanding.

Sometimes when he watched the kid, saw some of the rare videos or pictures, or when the boy was running around in the paddock, he saw a glimpse of his old friend.

He watched how he and little Pedro dragged each other around, one always close to the other. One always braver around the other. They were partners in crime.

He knew the feeling those kids shared very well. Tight knit and close. Those two were siblings without blood.

He watched them sneak around, each an ice cream in hand despite it being dinner time, he didn't even want to know they got it. They were clearly trying to get away from Dani who had bought Pedro along for some KTM duties.

As the Spaniard called out for them and they bolted giggling, he recalled being in the same situation.

He saw himself, just a child, scrambling to get up while Vale had already been on his feet yelling to hurry up. Now it was Pedro who had been taken by surprise while David was already sprinting away.

“Hurry up!” David yelled, his voice a little to similar to what the boy who used to run away with him sounded like.

"I'M FUCKING TRYING" "Ey!" Pedro's father had yelled as he started running too. He was yet to lose his physical strength and athletic build, so it was no problem for him to catch up to the two kids.

"I swear you two are the reason for my grey hair. You and your fathers."

The boys giggled, sharing a look that seemed to contain their own secret language.

Uccio knew that feeling too. The feeling of being caught. Together. Knowing there were no real consequences.

So many summer evenings had been spend running around, sneaking out or stealing treats just to disappear in some kind of field while hiding from Uccios parents.

He shook his head, grounding himself in reality, away from those 1980s summers. But while he returned, the kid Vale stayed. The imagine of a 8 year old Valentino Rossi remained in front of his eyes.

But now the Italian’s eyes were brown and his facial features were slightly different and his Italian had a Spanish accent.

They haunted him.

The imagine of part of Vale, torn apart and mixed with… him… kept haunting him.

He could never quite shake the feeling of those similarities despite the differences. He kept noticing them, like a shadow looming in the background of his consciousness, a reminder of what he had done.

But the shadow came in traces of the child that used to go to the same class as him. A child that used to tell him about cool bugs and stones he had found while wandering off. A boy who would proudly tell and show him every scar he had got, treating them like battle wound.

This child was far away from the legend he’d grow up to be and now it felt like said child was back, waiting to claim the world as his own.

With that thought he watched the small version of his friend sit down in one of the furthest seats away from him on a plane. He watched him from the corner of his eyes, his mimic not changing, his head still forward as if he wasn’t seeing the child.

But he did see him.

He saw how he let himself fall down on his seat, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He pulled his legs slightly up, curling up in himself.

The distance memory of all those boring school mornings came flooding back. Vale entering the classroom, his face closed off, the first sign that it had been a rough day.

Uccio would see how he let himself fall down on his seat, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He pulled his legs slightly up, curling up in himself.

David reminisced the young version of Vale – the one no one knew anymore.

The one that had disappeared long ago, the one that was slowly suffocated by the stinging comments, critics, the confusion antics of it all and the jealousy that would claw at him as he climbed the latter with races, wins, podiums and championships.

It was a version not even Luca could recall. He had been too young. But Uccio remembered. He remembered him so well. Sometimes he was the only reason he was still doing all this.

And now a torn apart version of this boy was there. And no matter how much Uccio tried to deny it, he couldn’t get rid of the truth.

The first hour or so was spend in silence. None of them acknowledge or even looked at the other. Both pretended the other wasn’t there.

But eventually, with more time passed, David’s stomach decided to betray him. Quickly he pressed his arms against his middle as if it would silence the growling noise.

Uccio eyed him, watched how he so obviously tried to stare ahead, his cheeks now flushed pink with embarrassment.

“You’re hungry.” It wasn’t a question. They had boarded the plane in the evening. Nobody had probably thought about giving the boy something for dinner.

“No” David muttered. His eyes flickered to the Italian who was still looking at him. He shook his head, his face visible unsure about the situation.

Annoyed the older rolled his eyes. His own kids were a lot more polite. Not that he had expected anything else. Still, a part of him couldn’t help but want to care for the boy. Afterall he was just a little boy.

“Yes you are. I’ll get you something and you will eat it.” He said. He got up and quickly heated up one of the prepared lunches they had on the plane. He placed it in front of the boy who was sitting up straight now.

“Thank you” he said, looking up properly for the first time and looking straight at Uccio with something he could only describe as a polite smile. It felt weird to see, so the Italian just scoffed.

“Shut up” he hissed.

David blinked but quickly focused on his food. As he silently eat his noodles, he decided that – no – he would not play the role of some kind, obedient kid. He wouldn’t let himself be pushed around. He wasn’t raised to be pushed around.

In his head he wondered what Pedro would say. He wondered what his friend would do. He slowly chewed his food as his voice filled his head, more mischievous ideas coming up.

He spend the next hours watching a movie, his eyes getting more and more heavier. Slowly he was getting pulled into sleep. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t feel safe enough.

He clutched to the little bear in his arm, the one he had since he was born. He had always taken it everywhere with him and now the teddy was sitting next to him on this plane.

He let out another yawn, but blinked, making his eyes as big as possible to stay awake.

“Jesus, just get some god damn sleep.” The Italian muttered. “Not tired” he replied, making a face to show he didn’t care about what he said.

“I don’t care… Sleep” “Why?” he asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. Uccio gave him an annoyed look. “You think I’m gonna kill you in your sleep?”

David just shrugged. “How would I know?” “Well, if I were to kill you in your sleep, I would get in very big trouble with the authorities. I mean, everyone knows we are traveling together so it’d be pretty stupid to kill you here since I would be immediately the main suspect”

He expected to have scared off the younger with this. Even if it was just a little. But instead David nodded knowingly. “Yeah. You’re right. And then you’d go to jail”

“And you think you’re worth going to prison for?” he asked. “I wouldn’t even go to the store for you”

“Thank you” he muttered. Then he suddenly sat up. He basically bolted in his seat “Wait!” he said loudly. “Shit. I almost forgot. I got something for you” He pulled his backpack closer and started searching it.

Confused – and slightly curious – the older watched how he searched through it. “There!” He sat back up, staring right at Uccio with a big winning smile. In his hand – nothing.

He just did a middle finger gesture towards the Italian, as if he had just pulled out, while smiling the same evil smile his father had.

The adult rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Little shit” he muttered. “Truly a Marquez, as rude as you are. It’s very obvious what Marquez teaches his son…” “Ey I learned that on my own” David shot back, immediately ready to defend his family.

“Did you now?” he asked, annoyed, massaging his forehead with two fingers. He was getting a headache – probably just from flying but he preferred to blame it on David. “I basically live at race tracks. Go figure.”

“Can you shut up and just fucking sleep now? You’re causing me a headache.” “……Good”

With that, David turned around, ultimately ending the conversation.

He clutched the plushie to his chest. It felt like a life line. Like a small connection to his papa. Quickly he gave the bear a kiss on the head, just like his papa always did before bed.

In his head, he said a quick prayer. He wanted his father to be okay. He still fully know what happened and how he was doing. He just hoped he’d okay and he’d allow him to come home again. And he hope his uncle Alex and his grandparents were okay and they weren’t too worried.

With the thought of his family, he finally settled enough to actually fall asleep.

He dreamed of his home, his family, bikes roaring.

He slept all the way through after that. Afterall he hadn’t got much sleep in the last few days. He wasn’t even sure what day was now.

But eventually he was woken up by one of the kind flight attendants. The man explained in wobbly Spanish that they were going to land very soon. David knew the procedure well enough to nod.

After a few more minutes – and doing his bets to ignore the Italian – they finally landed. He gathered all his stuff, getting out the plane.

As the Italian sun hit him, a weird realisation set him. He hadn’t really put much thought in it yet and looking back it felt ridiculous that he needed so long to actually understand. But he was about to meet his father.

He swallowed hard as he realized that he would actually meet his father. The one that had constantly ignored him now had to actually face him.

He tried to think of something to say, but the more he thought about it, the more fear he felt. He feared he would screw up already during the first meeting. He feared he would say the wrong thing. Do the wrong thing. He feared he’d lose this one chance forever.

With his papa, he knew what to do. He knew he would just need to run to him and hug him and he’d be picked up. But now he wasn’t even sure if he’d be acknowledged. Or touched.

He felt a tingling feeling in his stomach, like his whole body had been emptied.

He suddenly spotted a car, two person lingering around it. One of them had to be his father. For a moment he felt warm and cold at the same time. He wanted to finally meet him properly – not just some annoyed glances and twisted comments - and run at the same time.

His first instinct was to turn around, look for his papa and ask him for advice on how to deal with the situation, how to behave.

But as his little head turned more out if reflex, he was harshly reminded that there was no one.

He was on his own. He was alone. He was completely and utterly alone in a country he barely knew, with people that didn’t want him.

He felt tears swell in his eyes and he just wanted to disappear. He didn't want that. After all that time where he had asked about his father.

Alex and his grandparents had barely talked. Just said he wasn't like this. Only his papa sometimes talked about him. His words soft.

He once had asked that if his father had loved them as much as Marc said, then why wasn't he here?

His papa had just smiled and caressed gid hair. "Your father made a mistake. He believes someone he shouldn't. Someone who is very close and very dear to him. But he lied. And Vale keeps trusting him. Not out of some kind of... Evil spirit. It's just a mistakes. And everyone could have made that mistakes. He is yet to realize that."

David looked ahead. He stared at Uccios back who was a few steps ahead of him.

He was the one that had lied to his father. He had caused all of this.

He thought that the man who destroyed his family was so close - still so close to his father - made him angry.

But he knew he couldn't say anything. There was nothing he could do about it.

Yet.

“You will make a mistake” he whispered. “And then you will pay”

Not yet. But eventually. He knew that. So he just continued walking towards the car and it felt like he was walking towards something bad.

He looked at one of the man, recognizing him as Valentino Rossi – his father. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest. A pair of sunglasses covering his face. He had a disapproving, annoyed look under his faked neutrality.

David took a deep breath. He wanted to act tough, even just for a moment, to cover up his own fear.

Then he saw the 2nd man, leaning next to Vale, talking to him. He recognized his silhouette without a doubt.

He couldn’t help but grin widely, his fears gone.

“Uncle Luca!” he yelled and immediately started running. He was sprinting down to the car, ignoring everyone else. He passed Uccio and he passed Vale, not even looking at him a second time.

But Uccio did.

Uccio had seen how there was a slight twitch in his old friends face as he watched how the boy jumped on his younger brother.

Luca too had smiled widely and quickly kneeled down. He had gathered the boy in his arms, standing up like it was nothing while having the 9 year old in his arms.

David pressed himself against Luca, his eyes closed as he hold onto the little bit of family he had and knew here. His small hands were buried in the fabric of his clothes, refusing to let go.

"Missed you tio Luca. Missed you so much..." he whispered before a small sob left he's body. "I love you."

Luca closed his eyes. He pressed him even closer. He couldn’t image how David felt, so he just let him. He softly cooed, mumbling reassurance in hope to keep him calm.

"I missed you too. And I love you too. Soooo much."

He was aware he was being watched by his older brother, but he didn’t care one bit. Instead he just gave the boy in his arm a soft kiss on the head.

“Hola pequeño“ he said.

It was a silent power play. He wanted to show that – even if he loved David dearly and wanted to protect him – his place was in Spain. Not Italy.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asked softly. David just nodded. “Good. Good, that’s good” Carefully he lifted his head and looked at Luca.

He smiled brightly at him. “Hey there” he said. David smiled too. With Luca by his side, he felt a lot more settled. He felt save, protected.

Then Luca turned a little. David turned too, now facing him. His father. Valentino Rossi.

It felt weird. Whenever David had imagined meeting his father, it felt – warmer. Now he was just afraid.

“That is my brother – Vale… Vale, David” he tried to introduce them. David looked him up and down and lifted his hand. He gave him a small wave. “Hello Valentino”

No nickname. No dad. Just Valentino.

The Italian gave a short nod, his arms still crossed in front of his chest, standing next to Uccio.

“Ciao” he replied.

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logiesarge2 · 3 days ago

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We love when we actually like our writing

Me to the new child of divorce chapter because I genuinely like some of the parts I've wrote :)

You can judge for yourself this afternoon...

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logiesarge2 · 3 days ago

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I love you <3

i swear to god if marc is cheating with pecco i will screaaaammmmmm!! I do want to trust him though. Which does leave the question why pecco is behaving like an ass 😔

at first i thought it maybe would be like a misunderstanding kinda thing and they would only talk about pecco fucking "marquez" (which would turn out to be alex), but ITS NOT. So whyyyyy?

Mmmmh.... Again. Veeeryyy Intresting. And I really like the he's fucking Marquez and meant Alex idea but sadly... Taht doesn't quite fit hear. Even though it would be quite funny.

Oh imagine Pecco saying he's fucking Marquez and in that version Bez actually speaks up and is like "Hold up you are banging my boyfriend?" and Pecco is like "You're dating ALEX?!" because.... Yeah. And Bez gets big eyes like. "NO. Oh! Never mind :)" and for a second they are all silent and then they turn to Bez like "You are dating Marc fucking Marquez?" extra comedy crack bit. Bez being like "Ehm..... I... No?" "Then who? Julia?" "Yes" "WHAT THE FUCK?!" gets bonked before he is like "Okay okay it's Marc"

But for this story... I guess there's only one way to know....

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logiesarge2 · 3 days ago

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Ok i need this alternattive fic pls

i swear to god if marc is cheating with pecco i will screaaaammmmmm!! I do want to trust him though. Which does leave the question why pecco is behaving like an ass 😔

at first i thought it maybe would be like a misunderstanding kinda thing and they would only talk about pecco fucking "marquez" (which would turn out to be alex), but ITS NOT. So whyyyyy?

Mmmmh.... Again. Veeeryyy Intresting. And I really like the he's fucking Marquez and meant Alex idea but sadly... Taht doesn't quite fit hear. Even though it would be quite funny.

But for this story... I guess there's only one way to know....

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logiesarge2 · 3 days ago

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You really are

I wish I could believe you

Part 1: I swear I was trying

Marcmarc; marcnaia

CW: This story includes the thought about a partner cheating and the accusation of cheating

Marco didn’t know exactly when it started.

But he knew exactly how he found out. The moment was carved into his brain. He knew how he had felt. The feeling never left his chest, haunting him whenever he thought about it.

It was always the same.

Empty. Betrayed. Dirty.

It had started with some harmless teasing, jokes and laughter between their friend group. The usual, like they had done so many times before.

He remembered sitting on top of a table, some empty food container next to him. They had been at Pecco’s motorhome, late at night, celebrating Pecco’s first win of the season.

There was a conversation flowing. Teasing. He heard how Migno made joke about their world champion. They all knew it were just words, no heat and no harm intended.

Looking back he couldn’t remember who made the joke to start it all. Probably Andrea.

“Congrats to Pecco! First time this year Marquez is not fucking him.” Pecco had chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah trust me. Not the first time I’m fucking him” he had said.

There was a silence. All of them staring at him, trying to understand what had just been said. They patched the words together, knowing grins forming.

Luca and Franky exchanged a glance. Cele blinking in confusion.

“Francesco Bagnaia, are you fucking Marc Marquez?” Franky asked, his voice playful. A grin dancing around Luca’s face as well. They were clearly enjoying the chaos of that statement.

The thought that their mentors golden boy – the one that bought two championships back to Italy – was screwing Marc fucking Marquez, his own teammate, was drama gold to them.

Bez on the other hand, felt like he was witnessing a car crash.

He felt like he had been carved into, his inside taken out, thrown away, replacing with a deep emptiness.

“How do they say?” Pecco asked, a confident smile, accompanied by a suggestive wink “A gentleman enjoys in silent” “Oh you little fucker!” Cele laughed.

Bez felt like he was hit over the head and kicked in the stomach. He stood there. Frozen. Unable to react. Unable to say anything. He just stared at Pecco.

He wanted to call him names. Call him a whore. An asshole. A stupid cunt. He wanted to yell and curse, throw something in his face.

He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. He was trying to make up an excuse, process what he had just heard. He was telling himself it was just a stupid lie. A joke. He would reveal it any second now…

But he didn’t.

And with every second, more doubts kept creeping in Bez’s heart. and Marc had been dating for almost a year. He had thought they were good. Stable. But apparently, he had misinterpreted things.

From then on, the comments started. They all started with the academy, their usual teasing and jokes. Some questions. The Aprilia rider just watched over weeks, trying to find the prove that Pecco was lying.

He knew he should have talked to Marc immediately. But he was scared of the answer. He didn’t want to be seen as insecure or clingy. Or have it confirmed as the truth.

Instead, he watched Pecco shrugging when asked if he’d tell Vale. The gesture to easy to be fake. It all seem to come too natural.

“No. It’s just sex. It’s not like I plan to bring him to the ranch” “Good. Cause I don’t want to explain some doctor why someone’s dick was cut off” Luca said deadpan.

“Do you think Vale would cut off Pecco’s or Marquez’s?” Cele continued. “Both. Probably”

It was a weird feeling. Bez watched it all, listened, never fully joining in. He listened to all the jokes and he felt a weird sense of jealousy. Weren’t those jokes supposed to be about him? Him and Marc? Not Pecco.

Slowly he pulled back, claiming it was just because he was overthinking. When asked he would just shrug and reply with “work” which had become their code for confidential bike information.

In reality, he sometimes just couldn’t stand looking at his best friend and he knew the academy would figure it out soon if he was avoiding him, so he needed to work it out for himself first.

He had tried to ignore it. It didn’t work.

He had tried to believe it was all fake, just a lie but he couldn’t. Not when Pecco mentioned the mole Marc had on his ass. There was no way he could have seen it when Marc was wearing pants, which meant…

Pecco was telling the truth.

Marco even tried to be ok with it. He tried to accept it. He tried to think about it like an open relationship. It worked for others, so why not for him?

He tried to see it as a win that Marc was at least still coming back to him. He was still choosing him. He hadn’t lost him. Yet.

He knew he shouldn't think like that of course, but he couldn’t help it.

He knew that he was being cheated on. He knew he should confront Marc, telling him that he knew. He wanted to work it out. Somehow. But his heart told him that it would be impossible. He couldn’t stand the thought.

And then with Pecco of all people.

Pecco didn't even know about the relationship.

After all, he had never told anybody about dating the Spaniard. He had been too afraid of what his friends might say. They were his family after all. And he couldn't stand the thought of losing them.

He hadn’t ready to be made to choose. He was afraid of who he would end up choosing.

So he had never said anything. He thought Marc had understood. He had said he did.

But now, it felt like Mark was using that insecurity and use it against him. As if he was trying to prove that other people in Bezs circle didn't seem to think about him the way Marco feared they would think about him.

The more he thought about it, the more he was hurt.

He loved his boyfriend. Maybe a little bit too much. Because a part of him wanted to accept and move on.

A part of him wanted to pretend that he didn't know, as if he had never overheard all those countless comments that kept pressing into his chest like small daggers.

He feared that once he did confront Marc, he would lose him. That Marc would have to choose between Pecco and Bez, and the younger Italian knew that he wouldn't be the one to be chosen.

He was never the one to be chosen.

After all, he was just some weird curly headed over childish and overactive guy. He had barely won a handful of races. He had never won the championship. Pecco had. More than one.

He was calmer. More polite. More the son-in-law any parents would wish for their child. More perfect in any way. So why would anybody choose him?

The thought broke his heart.

But it also kept him from facing reality. The longer he could put away their conversation, the longer he could pretend that he didn't know. The longer he could keep Mark.

And Marc was his everything. He had everything of Bez.

Marc hold his hand. Marc hold his heart, his soul. Marc hold his body. His whole being felt like it was owned by Marc and Marc alone.

Yet he had given it to him willingly and he had no way to get it back.

A part of him didn't want it back either. He still wanted to belong to the older man without any conditions. Even without the condition of being treated with respect and being loyal and being loved.

So he laid in his bed, his eyes closed, trying not to cry as Rubik did his best to offer silent comfort. He was just trying to get through the night.

He knew that Marc was currently in Florence, ahead of the Italian GP.

He and Pecco were doing some promo, some pr stuff. They would spend the day and night in Florence. It was a haunting thought.

“Little bit of team bonding” Marc had said with a smile. He had spend the days prior at Bezs place. He had winked at him. “Gotta get along with your best friend, right?”

Marco had just nodded, wondering if he actually meant that they would have sex.

He looked at the clock, letting it get later and later. He get a few texts from Marc. A bunch of picture showing off the beautiful art displayed. And Marc.

Normally Bez eyes would probably fall out his skull at the sight of his half naked boyfriend. But now he just felt empty. In his head he saw Pecco touching all that and he started to feel sick.

He knew that Marc would sleep in the same hotel as Peeco. And the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to cry.

He knew that they would end up sleeping on the same floor. Maybe in the same room. In the same bed.

He tortured his own mind with the thought that they were currently laying next to each other. Possibly naked. Hands running over each other’s body. The same way he and Marc had done that same morning.

Possibly doing things that he didn't want to imagine.

A sadistic part wanted to hurt himself a little more. He heard his thoughts questioning if Marc was just as soft with Pecco as he was with him. Or rougher? Would Marc enjoy that more? Or was he softer?

Would he put his hand on Pecco’s cheek as they laid there, facing each other. Would he smile. Compliment him, like he did with Bez?

The Italian put his hands over his eyes. He wanted to stop thinking but instead his mind ran ahead. He thought about all the stupid jokes the academy might make once those picture were released.

Marc and Pecco in suits. Walking together through some of the finest art of human history. As if they were actual lovers heading for their wedding.

Would they – Marc and Pecco – joke about it themselves? Would Pecco pull on Marc’s eyes, stare at him with hungry eyes. Marc would enjoy that, wouldn’t he?

Would there be a hint of domestic? Would Marc fix Pecco’s tie afterwards while Pecco apologized for destroying his hair? Kiss?

He knew that it was only a question of time when someone would make a stupid joke, a comment and Pecco would confirm Marcos fear. He would confirm that they had sex and the carousel in his head would start all over again.

There was no way out.

And a part of him was a peace with that knowledge. Because soon Marc would be back at his own side, making him forget the previous days.

And then he would share the bed with Marco. Not Pecco. The younger Italian would feel like he had won. They would have sex.

But it was no longer any consolation. He swallowed hard as he realized that the jealousy had gotten stronger.

Bez was trying not to imagine that the naked, sweaty body above his boyfriend who was probably currently fucking into him was who he had considered to be his best friend. He shook his head, refusing to think of what the man was probably doing to him right now.

Instead he tried to focus on the future, once Marc was back at his side. But he couldn’t. He started to feel sick. To think that his boyfriend was getting fucked by someone else and would return to fuck him like nothing happened.

He hated the thought. He wanted to take a shower, a hot one. Hot enough to make his skin turn red. He wanted to burn the imprints of Marc’s hand off his body. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so dirty again.

Slowly he realized what it all meant. He started to see the line.

He had tried to push all those thoughts back. But the more he kept pushing them down, the more dominant they became in his head.

At first he had tried to believe it had all been just a stupid joke. He had been more clingy to Marc. But every time he asked “I'm the only one, right?” Even if it wasn't a playful voice and he would get insecure.

And then he had started to pull back. He refused to give a real answer. After all, he felt like he still hadn't made-up his mind what he would do during or after the conversation.

He knew he would not blame Pecco. He hadn't told Pecco about their relationship. So he had no way of knowing.

He closed his eyes but all he felt was tears as he realized he couldn’t go on like that. He couldn’t keep going. He would have to confront him, one way or another. He hold onto Rubik, silently crying into his fur.

He decided to wait for after the race. He needed to focus on Mugello first.

He hadn’t expected that things could get even worst. They were at Franky’s motorhome when Pecco got a message and had to leave early.

He had winked saying he needed to take care of something at Ducati. “Something or someone?” Franky had teased. “Eeeh… I mean… He did win. Maybe a reward is appropriate”

Marco didn’t even want to know what that meant. He rolled his eyes and decided to try one last time. He pulled out his phone. He send a quick message.

“Hey, can I come over? Now? wanna celebrate with you”

“Sorry” he got a reply. “Gotta deal with something :( how about later tonight?”

Something. Marco turned his phone over in his hand. That something was Pecco. He knew it now. He bit his lip, realizing that he had reached the end of the line. The small amount of doubt had left him. His hope was gone.

“Sure” he replied. “I’ll be there”

And he knew what would happen.

He felt strangely calm. He knew he was about to confront, get his confirmation and break up with his boyfriend.

He felt tears rise to his eyes. Everything in him screamed to not do it, but he had to. He couldn’t continue like that. For once he had to do something for his own sake.

Everything seemed to lead them to this moment a few hours later.

Marc was sitting on the couch, when Bez entered the motorhome. He could smell sweat. His mind added that it might be from sex. But the Italian refused to think more about it. It didn’t matter anymore.

“Hey my love!” Marc yelled and was already up when Bez entered. The Italian looked up, his empty eyes making the older pause. He was about to ask about it, when he opened his mouth to say the words that took Marc’s breath away.

“I know that you’re sleeping with Pecco” He said it quickly. Like a bandage to ripp off. And then it was there. Out in the open.

Marc eyes had shot up. His eyes widening in shock, staring at the younger. The “NO!” already leaving his mouth. But the way his boyfriend looked at him, it felt like it wasn’t even a question.

Marco couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to somehow dodge his eyes. “It- It’s okay. I’ve – I’ve known since… Austin.”

He didn’t want to lie anymore. No more pretending. No more protecting.

“I – And I wanted to be okay with it. I really did try. I thought – like – I thought if we had an open relationship –“ he felt like his own words were choaking him. “- it might not be so bad. It works for others. They are happy. But I can’t. I tried. Okay?”

He felt like he was so desperately trying to cling on something already gone. He didn’t want to go down this road, break up but he had to. He tried to justify it to himself, prove himself that he had tried everything.

“I tried really really hard because I didn’t want to lose you. I love you so god damn much that I thought… I thought I could suck it up for you.. but I can’t – I can’t fucking can’t continue like this. I… I- I’m sorry”

“Marco, corazon.” Marc said softly. The younger watched how he raised his hand, knowing he was trying to touch his cheeks. Immediately he step back to avoid any type of physical contact. He couldn’t stand the thought.

Not when he knew that those hands had just an hour before caressed Pecco with probably the same amount of love and care.

The care and love he just showed him hurt like a twisted knife. He wanted to accept it, lean in, enjoy it. But it would just end up hurting even more.

Still, he felt guilty watching the other’s face fall. Marc knew that physical touch meant everything to the other. It calmed him. So he realized how bad this situation really was.

“I love you. I did not sleep with Pecco. I never slept with Pecco and I will never sleep with Pecco” he said, his voice having an edge of panic. “I didn’t cheat on you. I swear! You can go through my phone! You know my code! You can-“

Marco just shook his head. He didn’t want to go through his phone. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to see whatever he might or might not find.

“I don’t need to go through your phone and… Please just stop lying. Okay? I – I know about you and Pecco so hell, stop embarrassing yourself by denying it.” He insisted.

He had expected that Marc would just admit it. He hadn’t expected this. Somehow this hurt even more.

The lies continued and he felt even more like he was being played with. As if he could just lie to his face and he’d believe him.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “Marco, I am not cheating on you. Please! Please, please, please, I am begging you – I am honest to god begging you to think about what you’re saying about me. Because I didn’t!”

Marco shook his head. His boyfriends words were so loud. He was thinking them over. He wanted to apologize, believe him. But he couldn’t. Pecco’s voice was still in his head. He still felt the pain the thought created.

He still felt empty, betrayed and dirty.

“Tell me where you got this from so I can get it out your head again.” Marc requested, his voice too soft for Marco.

“I… I want to believe you. I really do” he whispered. His voice breaking. “You can, baby, you can, I am telling the truth. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’ve lied before and… Pecco said…” “Pecco said what?” Marc asked. He felt so lost and helpless, he didn’t know what to do but he knew he couldn’t give up now.

“That you two have been hooking up. And I… I want to believe you so bad but… Pecco knows about the mole on your ass so-“ “He could have seen me change” he interrupted, his brain trying to come up with a possible moment.

But the sadness in the Italians eyes was evident that he didn’t believe him. “Please just stop lying. And tell me the truth” Marc wanted to scream. “I do! Why – Why won’t you just believe me?”

“I’ve known Pecco since we were kids. He’s not someone who would lie about hook ups. He never did so… I really don’t know who to believe” he tried to explain.

Marc blinked in confusion. The younger watched his face change. He suddenly looked unsure and hurt himself. “You believe him over me?”

He sounded hurt, more than Bez had ever heard it. His voice was filled with disbelief, confusion. Slowly he shrugged. “I wish I wouldn’t but… I trust him.” He confirmed.

“You trust him more than me” he repeated, sounding accusing. Something about this shift rubbed the rider the wrong way. “You would trust Alex more too if he told you he had hook up with me”

Now it was on Marc to scoff. “That’s different.” “How?” “Alex is my brother.” “And?” “Pecco isn’t your brother.”

”And?!” he shot back, his voice suddenly angry. “The academy is my family. We may not have the same blood but I’ve known him since I was an awkward teenager or kid even and we’ve stuck together ever since. I trust them with my life!”

“Maybe that’s a mistake” “The fuck did you just say?!”

Marc didn’t dare to repeat it. He was angry and sad. Frustrated. But that didn’t mean he was entitled to talk like that.

“I am just saying… Bagnaia lied to you. I don’t know why but he did. I didn’t cheat on you. I swear. Tell me how I can prove it to you… Please. Please” Marco wanted to take the out. He wanted to reach for Marc and make it all end.

But he couldn’t. He knew he’d be anxious every time Marc wasn’t with him, during every Ducati PR or testing duty. Every time. He couldn’t deal with that. He refused to. It wasn’t fair for him or Marc.

“How are you supposed to do that?” “I don’t know but I can’t lose you. Please, I love you too much. Please… I love you, Marco. I will do anything for you” he tried to make a step towards him. He needed to somehow bridge the gap between them.

But his boyfriend backed away. “I wish I could believe you” he said and it broke his heart. “You can” “I can’t. Pecco said-“

“You said you wouldn’t get your opinion about me influenced by the academy anymore” he whispered, tears threatening to fall. “You said – you said – no more lies to be believed. I believed you.”

Bez just laughed out loud. It sounded empty and hurt.

It felt like a bad joke that his words from the start of their relationship was now thrown back at him like that.

“And you promised you’d love me” “I do.” “And then you go out there and fuck my best friend?” “I didn’t!” he said firmly, anger and fear creating an indescribable tone.

“I don’t believe you”

“Please…! Please do it anyway! Let me – Let me show you.”

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logiesarge2 · 4 days ago

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*takes deep breath*

I have so many fucking words for you right but i cant form them into coherent sentences so you're getting this instead :