#and adding character thoughts/movement and i got to the end where suddenly marc was having opinions

[moonshynecybin]

wanna have thoughts about Sepang pre-season testing 2015 and how that photo of the two of them wearing swim trunks happened and what else might have taken place that day/week

prompt 4! because it is my brand i must say that cal crutchlow was also there in real life for the rosquez beach date and we must never forget this. he isnt in this story but please hold that in your mind okay thank you. anyways this story is about considering what it would be like to interrogate your very sexy coworker's control issues while you are slightly sauced and neither one of you are wearing shirts. so it goes.

Vale takes a sip of his drink and looks over at Marc, sprawled out on the lounger next to him, limbs loose and easy in the glow of the sun. His swim trunks are riding up, exposing the pale, tender skin on the inside of his thighs. He's already looking at Vale.

Of course he is.

"So, you don’t like the beach?" Vale asks, to try and get his mind of something else. Marc is— Marc is competition. He shouldn't.

Marc hums. "I don’t like being in the water, it’s different."

Interesting. That's not what Vale expected.

"Why? You can swim." He's seen him in the pool earlier, hollering with his brother and dunking him under the water. Shiny and wet under the Malaysian sun.

Marc shrugs, unbothered, and Vale spends some time with the movement of his shoulders, the cut of his muscles. It's fine. Marc wont be able to see his where his eyes are lingering, anyways. Vale is wearing sunglasses. It's harmless.

"I don’t know what’s in there— I always think there’s a shark or something that's going to eat me." Marc's nose scrunches as he talks, and he looks like he's about to laugh.

"You drive motorcycles for a living," Vale replies, voice light. It seems ludicrous that Marc would be scared of something like a shark attack, with what they both do for a living. With what Marc does in particular.

Marc flicks up his sunglasses to squint at Vale, smile still huge on his face. "So do you, are you saying you aren’t scared of anything?"

"I’m not." Vale answers with a straight face.

Marc laughs. It's easy to make him laugh. "I see!"

Vale nods. "No, I’m very brave."

Marc's still laughing, strong forearm thrown over his stomach now.

Vale really shouldn't.

"But you," Vale sits up, faces towards Marc. He’s a little drunk, Vale thinks. A little pink from the sun, still pale from the winter. “You are very brave.”

"Thank you," Marc takes a long sip from his drink, lips wrapped around his straw. Jesus.

Vale shakes his head. It’s not quite a compliment. “No no no no— you take risks. Not like a normal one of us.” He flips his shades down and slumps back. Looking at Marc is maybe too much right now. “And you are scared of the ocean.”

"I don’t like flying either."

Vale blinks. "What?"

Marc shrugs, the corners of his mouth digging impishly into his cheeks. He blinks lazily, and stretches a bit. Keeps his eyes steadfastly on Vale.

"It’s all… out of my control. On the bike I can ride. I know my lines, I know when to brake, how far to lean. It’s up to me. In the sky? The ocean? It’s up to other people. It’s up to God." He shakes his head. "There's too much chance.”

Vale chews on the the inside of his cheek, turns the idea of that over in his head. "Isn’t the chance fun?" He asks. It is to him.

"No." Marc answers.

"Hm." They stay there for a second, listening to the distant crash of waves. To the unknown quantity that is the sea. Vale thinks about it. Thinks about what it means to be surprised. To lose control. To feel like he doesn't know what's going to happen next. About how Marc makes him feel like that all the time.

He really shouldn't.

"Marc?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"