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fall0utmind · 8 months ago

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Gattino - Rosquez One shot (~2k)

Oh hey, did someone want a stupid one shot where Marc gets a helmet with cat ears?? No? Have it anyways :)

As per usual, come talk to me xx

It had been a hot summer so far, the sun beating down on the dirt track during the day; the atmosphere was oppressive with no breeze to break it. The evenings brought cooler air which was beautiful to sit out in, but the nights were unpleasant, too hot for even a sheet. Even so, the academy rode, and Vale watched them. He advised them on their water breaks, which were more frequent at this time of the year, telling them where they were losing time and how to improve. Afterwards, they scrambled inside, racing each other and laughing like schoolboys rather than fully grown adults. Valentino wasn't sure where they got the energy from.

The evening sun was slanting through the big windows, casting the room in hues of gold. Valentino was sitting on one of the comfy sofas writing up notes from the track session. It had been a long day at the ranch, full of motorbikes and joy. The boys were changing and getting sorted for dinner, their chatter drifting down the hallway. It was comfortable, having his house full of laughter over the summer; sometimes it felt too lonely when they weren’t here.

Luca was the first one back downstairs, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. He smiled at Vale before heading into the kitchen, mind already set on food. Valentino rolled his eyes fondly and watched his brother disappear, knowing the other boys would come down soon, clamouring for a meal. They usually took turns to make dinner, fostering a sense of comradery that he was immensely proud of in his academy. Tonight was Pecco and Luca's turn; he had heard them conferring over lunch. Valentino was just thankful it was not Bez or Cele, or the kitchen might not be standing by the night’s end.

Right on cue, Bez screeched from somewhere in the house, the sound of heavy footfall following. It stopped suddenly before a round of obnoxious later exploded from the direction of the bedrooms. The running started up again, multiple people this time.

Bez came rushing through the door, clutching his phone and shouting as he did so, "Luca!! LUCA".

Pecco and Franky rushed in after him, Franky was laughing hard, whereas Pecco looked torn between confusion and amusement. Luca popped his head out of the kitchen, frowning at the commotion, "What is It Bez?", he asked. Valentino heard a harsh cuss before a thump as Bez smacked into the kitchen doorframe. It prompted the others to burst into giggles, used to Bez's clumsiness.

Bez simply thrust his phone at Luca as he pouted and rubbed his head. Valentino honestly began to consider babyproofing the house if his boys continued to act like children. As if to prove the point, Cele ran through the door at full speed, almost colliding with Pecco. He steadied the younger gently and grinned at Cele’s embarrassed smile, "Watch it piccolo", his voice was tinged with amusement as he chided him. Cele scowled at the nickname, unimpressed. Vale shook his head at them, trying to suppress his overly fond grin.

Bez was practically jumping up and down as Luca took the phone, almost yelling at him in excitement. Luca shushed him, and Bez quietened down enough that Valentino could hear rapid-fire Spanish playing from the phone’s speaker. Luca’s cheeks began to turn pink, his mouth agape as he stared at the phone in his hands. When the video ended indicated by the lack of Spanish, the whole group dissolved into laughter. Every time one of them looked back at Luca’s stunned face, they doubled over once more. Bez was gasping around his words, "fuck that's so funny. Luca’s face. Jesus, of course, he posted it like a thirst trap, classic Marquez".

Vale froze. Which brother were they talking about? And what the hell was a thirst trap? And why the hell were his boys so invested in it? His interest was piqued; he needed to see the video. He stood up and strolled into the kitchen, aiming for casual despite his racing thoughts. When he approached the group, Luca and Pecco both shot him panicked looks, the former even stepping away from Valentino. He frowned in confusion, cocking his head slightly. Well, that answered the question of which brother. Pecco had grown surprisingly close to Marc since they had been teammates, and he now avoided all conversations about the Spaniard with Valentino. It made sense, although Valentino had stopped being so publicly anti-Marc, he certainly wasn’t fond of the man. Not at all.

(Definitely not)

Valentino held his hand out to Luca, who shook his head frantically in response. It made Valentino feel like he had missed something important. Anger bubbled inside him. The others were looking between the two brothers now, uncertainty radiating off them. Valentino arched an eyebrow at Luca, who sighed but passed him the phone with a look that told him he wouldn’t like what he saw.

On the screen was a video from Alex Marquez's Instagram story. It started with Alex laughing hard with a friend, talking in rapid-fire Catalan; the only bit Vale understood was Marc’s name. The next frame showed Marc, standing shirtless as Alex gave him a box from behind the camera; the younger could be heard laughing in the background as Marc opened the gift. A rapid series of emotions crossed his face: confusion to shock, to embarrassment, before finally settling on a cocky smirk as he lifted a helmet out of the box. At first glance the helmet was normal- sleek glossy black with a dark visor. Until Marc spun it in his hands, revealing two little pieces on top. Valentino flicked his eyes up to Luca, wondering why it was so funny. He realised before Luca could say, it was funny because the helmet had cat ears. Alex had brought Marc a helmet with little ears on it as some kind of stupid joke. The Marc in the phone lifted his head to look directly at the camera, trailing his hands over the ears as he winked and simply said, "For Luca".

Valentino stared at the screen for so long that it turned black. He vaguely remembered a promotional video Luca had done for Honda last year- one where Luca had said that he would like Marc to wear this helmet. Something hot pulled in his gut. He tried to ignore it.

The boys had fallen into an awkward silence, waiting for Vale to make a move. He could not stop imagining Marc in the helmet. Marc's sharp grin when he won His eyes dark as he flipped up the visor.

Fuck.

Valentino’s voice was a little too deep and gravelly when he spoke, "he will look ridiculous". He could only hope they didn't notice. He almost chucked the phone back at Luca, fleeing the scene. Behind him, the boys stared in bemusement, only Luca looked on with a knowing look in his eyes.

By the time dinner was ready, Valentino had firmly pushed all thoughts of Marc to the back of his mind. He steadfastly ignored the looks Bez and Pecco shot him throughout the meal, focusing the conversation on tomorrow's training plan instead. He spoke to Cele about tucking tighter in the corners and told Franky about the areas of the track where he was losing speed. He saw Pecco and Luca conversing quietly out of the corner of his eyes and had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that they were talking about him.

Once the dishes were washed and put away, the whole group settled in the living room, sprawled out across furniture and the floor. Valentino had cracked out a bottle of wine; it was summer break after all. Pecco was second in the championships, just behind Marc, who had gone from strength to strength on the Ducati. It was, admittedly, rather impressive, and Marc looked good in red. He paused, wondering how he had yet again begun thinking about Marc. He cursed himself for his weakness.

The buzz of a phone was loud, even above the murmurs of conversation and hushed music that Vale had picked out. A choked-off noise ripped him from his musings and he raised his eyes to look at the source. Luca was staring at his phone again, eyes like saucers. The boys closer to him clambered over to see what he was looking at. Bez and Cele started cackling immediately; even Pecco was smirking, rolling his eyes fondly. Bez turned to Luca, "Ah, I think he liked your idea", he said in a teasing voice. Luca chuckled, slightly far away, "fucking hell, clearly. Is this on his public?". The other boys laughed harder at the comment. Vale felt lost. He tuned them out as they continued to joke around, unwilling to be drawn into Marc Marquez once again. Instead, he ran through the mental imagery of every corner in the 2006 championship.

He tried to follow the conversation after that, but he was far away for the rest of the night. His glass of wine had been finished and refilled a few times over. Valentino refused to give in to the temptation. He didn't care about Marc. He didn't want to know what the hell he was doing. And yet, as the night wore on, Valentino’s mind kept drifting to him. Marc smiling underneath him, his eyes crinkled and fucked out. Marc, shirtless, on his sofa at the ranch. Marc wearing the helmet as he sped around Valentino’s track, on one of Valentino's bikes. The possessive part of him was very pleased by the idea. It was a heady thought, addictive in the way that only Marc could be. It led his brain down a path that he tried not to tread. Not anymore. It was only once the boys had all headed to bed that Vale gave in. It was slightly embarrassing to unblock Marc on social media for this.

(But so worth it.)

His most recent post was a series of five slides, the caption simply read “Meow” and tagged Luca. Something akin to jealousy burned inside of him. The photos were various shots of Marc in the helmet. He was shirtless, standing outside by a pool, sweat trailing down his bronzed skin. The Spanish sun was lighting him up like some kind of Greek god, carved from marble and made to be worshipped. Valentino licked his lips subconsciously, enraptured by the flex of his abs and pecs. He had the helmet on, it made Valentino freeze like a rabbit in headlights. In the first two photos, the visor was down, hiding his facial expression, but Marc had flipped the visor up in the others. He was laughing in the one, crinkles in the corner of his eyes which were honeyed in the sunlight. The second one was straight out of a wet dream. Marc looked hungry, as he did when he raced. His eyes were hard and determined - deep pools of molten fire. Valentino shifted in his seat. He flicked to the final slide, a video this time. Alex and Marc were dirt biking, the younger chasing Marc around the track, following a black helmet with little pointy ears. Marc was riding like a maniac, his cackle heard over the roar of the bikes. The video ended when he skidded to a stop, flipping his visor up and smiling widely at the camera.

Valentinos heart was beating out his chest. He can't remember the last time he was so turned on. Over a goddamn Instagram post of all things.

Maybe he was getting old.

Maybe it was just because of Marc.

But when he finally dragged himself to bed, he dreamt of the younger man. It came in flashes of golden skin, dirty smiles, and hot nights. But somewhere, deep in his dreams, he was chasing Marc around the track, his cat ear helmet hiding his bright grin.

#motogp #marc marquez #rosquez #motogp rpf #my fics #cat coded! marc #valentino rossi #pecco bagnaia #new fic???#cant even finish the others #lol #i really enjoyed this though #wrote it in an hour #no beta #lets gooooooooooooo

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hotmessmaxpress · 1 year ago

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Rosquez Horror AU

Vale turns up at Marc’s motorhome after his crash with Pecco.

Marc stares at him, where he is on the front step, and genuinely takes a moment to wonder if it’s really happening. Vale barely looks at him, much less speaks to him. Despite Marc’s deepest desires to move forward with Vale, he can’t even get the other man to acknowledge him.

Until now, he supposes.

He lets Vale in the door, and stands a healthy distance away from him. Suddenly the motorhome feels entirely too cramped, too close. Marc doesn’t know why he feels like he needs space from him; it’s not like Vale will hit him.

Vale looks at him with narrow eyes.

“Your crash-”

Vale gets no further before the siren starts and they both freeze.

It’s been a long time, years, since one has appeared in the paddock.

The mandated emergency screen in the corner of Marc’s trailer flares to life with a crackle and an animatronic voice speaks.

“Attention all drivers, staff, and guests. A void creature has been spotted in your vicinity. Take shelter immediately. Lock all doors and windows and arm yourself if possible. Take cover and stay quiet. Do not respond to voices you cannot see. Repeat. Attention all riders, staff, and guests. A void creature has been spotted in your vicinity. Take shelter immediately. Lock all doors and windows and arm yourself if possible. Take cover and stay quiet. Do not respond to voices you cannot see. May Mercy be with you all.”

Vale and Marc move quickly and silently. Vale locks the door, while Marc checks the windows. He shows Vale how to pull down the metal safety panels in front of the doors and windows, and Vale helps him secure the rest of the motorhome.

Marc sends off a text to Alex with a half moon emoji and waits for the avocado Alex is supposed to send in return. Their code, unable to be mimicked by an outsider pretending to be one of them, and meant to signal “I’m safe and sheltered.”

The avocado pops into his messages shortly after, and Marc lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Vale seems to be doing something similar, staring at his phone in concern.

“Okay?” Marc whispers.

Vale nods, but Marc can see the tension in his shoulders.

“Bedroom,” Marc suggests. “It’s the safest.”

They carry food and water from the kitchenette to the bedroom, and Marc closes the door. Another metal safety panel comes down, and latches into place, and Marc breathes a sigh of relief.

“Is Alex okay?” Vale whispers.

Marc nods.

“Safe and secure. Are all of your riders?”

Vale looks nervous.

“I’m still waiting to hear.”

Marc nods.

He has the urge to reach out and comfort Vale, but the space between them in the tiny room feels vast. It’s not lost on him that Vale is only here because he wanted to yell at him. The ongoing anomaly event may be uniting them for now, but Marc has no doubt that when the threat is gone Vale will be back to hating him.

He reaches out anyway, squeezing Vale’s hand. He pulls him to the bed and they sit.

“We may as well be comfortable,” he suggests.

Vale doesn’t relax, though. He checks his phone again.

There’s a scream, so far off in the distance that Marc wonders if he heard it. He glances at Valentino, who has frozen in place, and assumes it must have been real.

He has a terrible thought that at least it was far away. At least it wasn’t near them. If it has to happen, let it happen somewhere away from himself and his family.

He wishes Alex were with him, like the first time he experienced an anomaly from the void. They were so young, at home in Cervera. He remembers watching television after dinner, then the screen cutting to a news anchor.

The news anchor had said something confusing, and Marc had looked over at Alex, who was similarly confused and annoyed that their show had been interrupted. Whatever the anchor had said terrified Roser, though. She had come running, grabbing Marc and Alex by the arm and dragging them down the hall to the small room under the stairs that they weren’t allowed to play in.

Alex had started crying, scared and startled by the way their mother had roughly grabbed them, and Roser had hissed at him to be quiet. Marc thought she was being mean; he remembers yanking Alex out of her arms, as if to protect him from her, and he pulled Alex against him. They’d been almost the same size at this point, long before Alex had his massive growth spurt and shot up past Marc’s height.

Marc had held his little brother in his arms, petting his hair, as Alex calmed down. He glanced at Roser, seeing her silently praying. At the time he hadn’t known the danger they were in– he didn’t understand the sirens surrounding them and the noises outside that he’d never heard before.

Roser brushed his hair back from his forehead, and her hands were shaking. It felt like hours that they sat there in that small closet-room, legs sore from squeezing together and sweating from the close space.

Marc and Alex hadn’t dared to complain though, sensing that now was not the time to press their mother for information or to whine. Once the wind outside died down and the sirens finally stopped, Roser had released them from the room and fed them dessert like it was a special occasion. She kept touching their faces, kissing their cheeks and their foreheads, and she spent most of the rest of the evening on the phone.

It was only once they reached school-age and got their first mandatory anomaly safety lesson that Marc really understood what might have happened to them.

Vale is still tense. Marc sees it in the lines on his face, lines that weren’t present the last time Marc and Vale shared a shelter during an anomaly.

They had been in a hotel that time, toward the end of their relationship, but before things got awful, and the hotel was expensive enough that they hadn’t had to leave the bed for more than to close the curtains. The doors and windows were already secured, and it was easy to forget the void creature lurking outside, far below them. They had climbed back into bed after they ensured the curtains were closed, and they muted the TV.

They treated it almost as if it was a thunderstorm, wrapped up in blankets and waiting for it to pass. Vale had pressed kisses along his neck, whispering reassurances in his ear.

“You’re safe,” he had said. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

At the time, Marc had believed him.

Marc swallows the lump in his throat, and reaches for a water bottle. He cracks the top and takes a long drink, trying to soothe the dry feeling in his throat.

Vale checks his phone again.

“Pecco hasn’t checked in,” he says, so quiet that Marc barely hears it. Marc’s heart jumps into his throat. His brain races through the full spectrum of possibility. It could be that Pecco was separated from his phone, and when the sirens go off it’s instinct to run without reaching for something like a phone. It could also be much worse– Marc’s ears strain for another scream.

“He might just not be near his phone,” Marc says, reaching for Vale’s hand again.

Vale allows Marc to take his hand, and he squeezes it.

They sit in silence for another long while, simply holding hands and waiting.

“I’m sorry about the crash,” Marc says.

“No you aren’t,” Vale says, giving Marc a dry look.

“I don’t want to crash. I don’t want anyone else to crash either.”

Vale grits his teeth, and Marc tries to pull his hand away. Vale doesn’t let him, and it reminds Marc of all the arguments that ended with Vale trapping him in his arms until they both calmed down.

“You race like you want to crash.”

Marc doesn’t have anything to say to that, at first.

“I’m getting older,” he finally breathes. “Things are changing for me,” he adds, leaving it at that.

Vale turns and stares at him, appraising him.

Marc wonders if Vale can see the lines that Marc himself sees when he looks at himself in the mirror. He wonders if Vale’s eyes pick up on the way that Marc’s body hurts; he wonders if it shows on his face how tired he is of being in pain.

Vale opens his mouth to speak, but they’re interrupted.

“Valentino!”

Marc’s entire body freezes. Pecco’s voice is outside, calling through the walls.

Marc squeezes Vale’s hand hard. He knows Vale is smart enough not to respond, but he can’t take that chance. He hoists himself up and straddles Vale, pressing his forehead to Vale’s. He stares Vale in the eye, keeping Vale’s focus on him.

“Don’t,” Marc warns, nearly silently.

Vale wraps his arms around Marc, and squeezes him tightly.

“Vale, please,” the voice outside begs. “I don’t know where the thing is. I know you’re in there- I need shelter.”

Vale buries his face in Marc’s shoulder.

“I left my phone in the garage and got locked out,” the voice yells. “Please, Vale! Please don’t let it get me.”

Marc thinks Vale might break his ribs with how tightly he’s holding him. Marc wonders how loud his heart is; if Vale can hear it from where his face is pressed against him. Marc puts his hands gently over Vale’s ears, trying to spare him the trauma of being targeted by an anomaly. He knows how it feels to have the voice of someone you love trying to tempt you into welcoming your own death through the door.

“Valentino!” Pecco’s voice yells again. It sounds desperate, pleading, and Marc can feel tears well up in his eyes. He hopes Vale can’t hear it. It’s a wretched thing, copying the voice of another.

Marc has never seen a void creature. He knows that people have seen them; he went to school with someone who claimed to have run from one. Marc knew that was ridiculous; you can’t run from them and live. But they have been captured on camera, and seen through windows. Marc only knows that they’re ungodly things, wrong and twisted and otherworldly.

He wonders now what the one outside must look like. He wonders if it bothers to take on Pecco’s appearance, or if it looks like the shadowed monster his school teachers had taught them to protect themselves against. The horns and claws made from the absence of light; sucking in light from everything they are near.

Vale is shaking now. He’s still gripping Marc tightly, and Marc still has his hands sealed over Vale’s ears.

There’s a scream outside, so nearby that Marc physically flinches. For a minute he has a horrified thought that it could be in the motorhome with them, and he wrenches his body around to look at the door. The metal sheeting is still in place, just like the metal over the windows.

It won’t break in, he reminds himself. He presses his lips against the crown of Vale’s head like a blessing, like it might protect them both.

He thinks of the time he had been in Vale’s position and thought Alex was outside. They were in Vale’s motorhome that time, before they had started to put a name to the thing that was developing between them.

“Marc! Are you in there? Please let me in!” the thing had screamed in Spanish.

Marc had shot up from where they were seated on Vale’s couch in silence, and Vale had thankfully gotten to him before he reached the door. Vale had gripped him around the waist, yanking him backward.

“No!” Marc had said, and Vale had clapped his hand over Marc’s mouth.

“Marc, that is not Alex,” Vale had hissed in his ear. He had dragged him away from the door, and Marc had struggled and cried.

“Marc!” the voice outside called, coming nearer. Marc sobbed against the hand pressed to his mouth. Vale dragged him into the toilet of his motorhome, shutting the door behind them and bracing his body against it. He forced Marc to look at him, keeping a hand over his mouth.

“Marc, that is not your brother. It’s not him and you know that,” he had whispered desperately. Marc had pressed his face hard against Vale’s neck and sobbed silently, and Vale had covered Marc’s ears for him.

It was a long time that they sat there, pressed tightly together while Marc prayed to every God that his baby brother was safe.

It was after that experience that Vale had suggested Marc and Alex have a code; a way to prove to one another that they were safe.

Marc can’t remember if he ever thanked Vale for that.

Marc thinks of that now, as he sits with his own hands over Vale’s ears. Marc wishes he could make it end, but he knows that if the anomaly is still outside now it will be a long time before they’re released from the lockdown and fear.

The voice outside has stopped, at least, so Marc takes his hands off of Vale’s ears. Vale doesn’t let go of him, but his arms relax a little.

“I think it’s gone away,” Marc whispers. “It’s silent, at least.”

Vale takes a shuddering breath.

A scream sounds from outside; Marc guesses it’s a motorhome or two over, but it sounds as if it’s in their ears. Marc flinches hard.

“Not gone,” Vale hisses.

Marc glances apologetically at him, then sighs and wraps his arms around Vale’s neck. They’re already in too close and intimate a position as it is. They’ve crossed a line that Marc knows they’ll regret later, but he doesn’t care. His heart has been racing since the whole ordeal started, and if pressing himself against Vale makes him feel a little less terrified he’s going to do it. Vale doesn’t seem bothered, and his arms are still around Marc’s waist.

“It’s going to be okay,” Marc whispers.

Vale snorts. “Are you telling that to me or yourself?”

“Both,” Marc admits. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard one so close.”

Vale is silent for a moment.

“We had one a few months ago in Tavullia. I was there with the boys.”

Marc can only imagine how tight Vale’s security is at the ranch.

“It was you outside.”

Marc’s heart stops in his chest.

“What?” Marc asks, voice coming out just slightly too loud. Vale squeezes him a little tighter and they both sit silently for a moment, holding their breath and listening.

Nothing makes a sound, so they relax slightly.

“It had your voice. I almost opened the door.”

Marc has no idea what to say about that, so he rests his head on Vale’s shoulder. He wonders how the academy riders must have reacted to that; he’s surprised Uccio didn’t open the door to run outside and punch him in the face. The mental image of Uccio running full force at a void horror because of his hatred of Marc is such a fine line between hilarious and disturbing that Marc has to cover his mouth to muffle the high pitched, hysterical laughter bubbling up.

Vale runs a hand through his hair.

“Calm down,” he whispers flatly. “I don’t know what you’re laughing at.”

Marc shakes his head. If he tries to explain he can only imagine he’ll laugh harder.

Once he calms down he climbs off Vale’s lap and lays down on the bed, coaxing the older man into joining him. At first Vale stays far from him, but Marc gives him a dry look and Vale gives in. It’s not as if they haven’t already been on top of one another; pretending like they need to be separated is almost funny.

Vale allows Marc to cuddle up to him, and after all these years Marc still slots against him easily. Their bodies both still remember how to fit together; where to put their arms and legs so that they match up like puzzle pieces.

“I miss this,” Marc says, heart still pounding. It’s a cliche, he knows; it’s a notorious joke that there’s nothing that makes you want to bare your soul like a void event. There’s just something about thinking you’re going to die that brings out the honesty in people.

Vale is so quiet that Marc wonders if he’s pretending he didn’t hear him.

“I do too,” Vale says.

“What?” Marc asks, freezing.

“I miss you. I’m still angry, though,” Vale admits.

“I’m sorry,” Marc says. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I never hurt you on purpose.”

He knows Vale doesn’t believe him, and the silence hangs heavy between them. Marc wishes he could make Vale see the truth in his words. He wishes he could do anything that would make Vale understand.

The next thing Marc knows, he’s waking up to the blare of the release sirens.

“Attention all drivers and staff. The void creature has been neutralized and the anomaly event is over. You may leave your shelter and resume regular activities. Please stay alert for any further emergency communications. Repeat. Attention all drivers and staff. The void creature has been neutralized and the anomaly event is over. You may leave your shelter and resume regular activities. Please stay alert for any further emergency communications.”

“Pecco,” is the first thing Marc says, and Vale jolts up from the bed and scrambles for his phone. It’s already vibrating with incoming messages by the time he picks it up, and Marc can see as Vale’s entire body relaxes.

“He’s fine,” Vale says, voice cracking. “He’s okay.”

Marc sits up and pulls Vale toward him, hugging him tightly in relief. They’re both shaking now, from the rush of adrenaline and relief.

“He’s okay,” Marc repeats. “Thank God.”

Marc’s own phone is vibrating with messages of friends checking in, but he and Vale stay holding one another anyway.

When they finally have the energy to release one another, they don’t hurry to get up. The rest of the paddock will be recovering, taking stock of who was injured. Everything will no doubt be cancelled for the rest of the day.

They take their time opening the metal shields and restoring the motorhome to normal. They don’t move far from one another either, though they don’t acknowledge that.

“Why did you want to open the door? In Tavullia?” Marc blurts.

He thinks that there’s a non-zero chance that Vale leaves here and never speaks to him again anyway, so he may as well ask.

Vale is quiet for a moment, but he puts his phone down.

“It was a moment of panic. I thought– I thought that if I didn’t open the door for you I’d really never see you again; nevermind that it didn’t make sense for you to be there. I just thought that I couldn’t let you die.”

Marc has a lump in his throat that makes it hard to talk.

“I know you don’t believe me when I say it but I love you. I never meant to hurt you.”

Vale isn’t looking at him, and when he doesn’t raise his head to look at him Marc turns his back, busying himself with putting away the bottled water and snacks they didn’t use when they were under lockdown.

“I know, I think,” Vale says. “I think I know that you didn’t mean it.”

Marc’s heart is racing and he freezes in place.

“I love you, Marc. I’m still so angry but I do love you.”

“Just give me a chance,” Marc says desperately. “Let me fix things.”

Vale looks at him for a long moment.

“Okay.”

#if you saw this when I accidentally posted it no you didn't #marc marquez #valentino rossi #rosquez #horror au #mm93 #vr46

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