LDR Ch 17

But all that was reflected in their eyes was the unmistakable desire that hadn’t yet faded. Their bodies were honest too; despite having just climaxed, both of their erections remained firm.

“Harry, don’t.”

The hand softly stroking his still-hard erection felt so wet that Leo let out a sigh.

“Okay. I won’t.”

Even so, Harrison lifted his head and gently kissed the edge of Leo’s ear.

“You can’t.”

Yet Leo leaned in slightly, making it easier for Harrison to kiss him.

“Got it. I won’t.”

Of course, they both knew there wasn’t a shred of sincerity in those words.

Abu Dhabi Grand Prix

Yas Marina Circuit

The final race of the season had concluded, and the race winner crossed the finish line.

— Renzo, you’re number one!

— Yeah. Thanks, everyone.

— And… you’re the champion!

— Uh, yeah, th-thanks…

The broadcast through the headset naturally played the voice of this season’s champion, Lorenzo, whose stunned voice trembled with emotion.

Leo confirmed that Harrison came in third and began walking to congratulate him. The drivers had just finished the celebratory ritual known as donuts, spinning their cars in circles on the spot, and were heading to parc fermé. Almost simultaneously, Lorenzo and Harrison got out of their cars, locked eyes as if by agreement, and without hesitation approached and embraced each other.

Harrison tapped Lorenzo’s helmet, prompting Lorenzo to remove it. Harrison then shielded what was likely a tear-streaked face and whispered something continuously. Lorenzo kept nodding. Though they’d never reconciled, seeing them not ignore each other on a day like this made Leo feel oddly proud.

— Congratulations! Lorenzo Lambardi, this season’s champion! Truly congratulations.

— Yes, yes. Thank you. Um, first, I’m so grateful to our team. I don’t know how to express it, but seeing the results of everyone’s hard work finally come to fruition like this… If we hadn’t achieved this today, it would’ve been too much. I’m thrilled to see these results, and it’s not just one year’s achievement but the result of our team’s relentless progress over a long time despite the challenges. I’m so proud of our team. Especially to the fans who’ve always supported us consistently, thank you. I know what it’s like to watch from home or the stands, hoping Ferrari wins. Thank you. Please keep being proud of us. This is an unforgettable, glorious day for me.

Though he managed not to cry, Lorenzo’s interview was thick with emotion. The second-place driver gave another interview, and finally, Harrison stepped in front of the camera.

— Harry, you finished third overall and made the podium today. How do you feel?

— Thanks to the team.

Normally, Harrison would’ve rushed to the team greeting him, but having been caught up talking with Lorenzo, he looked at the team members watching him from a distance, taking them in slowly. When his gaze met Leo’s, his face broke into a slow smile.

— To the team members who traveled with us, unable to go home, to the headquarters staff in the UK staying up until dawn to match the race time zones, and to everyone who gave THEIR best in their roles, thank you. We had good days and bad days this year, but to the fans who supported us until the end, thank you too. It might be premature to say at the end of the season, but I’m already looking forward to next year.

After those words, instead of heading to the cooldown room, Harrison ran to the team and embraced them. In the midst of it, Leo hugged him.

“Congrats.”

At those words, Harrison hugged Leo’s back even tighter.

“Thanks.”

Their eyes met again, filled with unspoken words. Feeling suddenly shy under that gaze, Leo handed their precious driver over to the team. As he smiled, Harrison, receiving all sorts of rough and fervent affection, smiled back. In that moment, words weren’t needed.

After greeting a sponsor, Leo visited the driver’s private room and found Harrison sitting quietly. He closed the door. It had been about two hours, so the interviews should’ve been over, and Leo had assumed Harrison would be in debriefing. It was surprising to find him still in the private room.

Leo wondered if Nathan had returned yet. Debriefing wouldn’t start until all the drivers were back, so there was still time. Standing at the doorway, Leo looked at his partner. Even wrapped in the afterglow of triumph, he seemed quietly exhausted inside.

“Congrats.”

At Leo’s words, Harrison’s champagne-soaked head lifted, revealing a face half-hidden until then.

“You too.”

With a smile, Harrison extended his arms. Leo approached, and Harrison wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist, resting his forehead against Leo’s stomach. Leo naturally stroked his hair. As his hand slid to Harrison’s nape, the slightly warm skin, perhaps still sticky with champagne, brushed against his fingers.

“Did you talk to Renzo?”

As Leo gently massaged his nape, a slightly drowsy voice emerged, and Leo looked at the curly hair resting against him.

“No. Why?”

“He said the three of us should meet and not go back to the UK.”

“He has something to say?”

Harrison rubbed his cheek gently against Leo’s stomach.

“Don’t know. Didn’t hear the details.”

Lifting Harrison’s face slightly as he held his hair, Leo saw a face with closed eyes, as if this space was perfectly safe. Leo quietly gazed at him.

After the razor-sharp thrill of the race, after the skin-tingling joy of the podium, this was the unguarded, serene face he showed only to Leo. As Leo cupped his cheek, Harrison’s head leaned docilely into his palm. The deep breaths traveled through his skin.

“I’m gonna sleep a long time tomorrow.”

In a calm voice devoid of joy or regret, Leo gently traced Harrison’s neat eyebrows with his finger.

“Yeah. Let’s sleep a long time.”

He wanted to look at that peaceful face for a long while.

As he’d said, all he wanted was to rest soon, but it was the last race of the season, the constructor’s championship ended in third, and above all, Harrison was a key player in elevating the team and finished third in the driver’s championship. Naturally, he couldn’t skip the party. Even attending only the hotel party, it was already morning by the time it ended.

Returning to the room and sleeping, it was lunchtime when they woke. Harrison was still asleep, faithfully keeping his promise to sleep long. Leo showered quietly and came out to find Harrison half-asleep, watching TV.

“You up?”

“Yeah.”

Curious about what he was watching, Leo saw yesterday’s race interviews and analysis on the screen. Sitting beside him, Harrison nuzzled Leo’s still-damp neck, kissed it softly, and rested his head there.

— What were you saying to Harry just now? You kept talking.

— Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

— Harry said that?

— Yeah. He really did. He just kept saying that.

— Were you going to cry?

— No!

— Once again, congratulations, Lorenzo.

— Thank you.

Despite that, Lorenzo’s eyes on the screen were already brimming with tears.

“What were you saying back there?”

As the screen shifted to the second-place driver, Leo spoke, and a still-drowsy voice came from his neck.

“He was already crying then.”

Leo had known from the radio. Unlike Harrison, who consistently did interviews, debriefings, and prepared for the next race whether happy or sad, Lorenzo cried when he became F2 champion, when he first made the F1 podium, when he got his first pole, and when he won his first race. So, of course, he cried yesterday as F1 champion.

— Harry, your pace wasn’t great during practice. Did you think you’d make the podium today?

— Yes. Friday’s pace wasn’t great, but we confirmed improvements in Saturday’s qualifying. I knew Sunday would bring better results. We had long meetings after Friday’s practice, and finding several improvements there helped a lot.

— So, did you think you might aim for something higher than third?

— That would’ve been nice, but overall, third is a great result for me and the team. Just making the podium at the final Grand Prix is satisfying.

Unlike his exhausted appearance in the waiting room, Harrison on the screen still seemed to revel in the race’s afterglow with a hint of a smile. He’d drunk heartily at the party without showing fatigue.

— Any plans for the off-season?

— First, I’m gonna enjoy the party tonight as much as I can.

— Congrats on third, Harry!

— Thanks.

“When’s the technical analysis?”

Looking at Harrison as he mumbled, Leo saw him flipping through the video, searching for the race commentary and technical analysis. This wasn’t new, but it was impressive he was doing it the day after the season ended.

“Right after the first pit stop, something felt off at Turn 14. Not quite understeer, but it didn’t turn well, so I mentioned it in debriefing. The data showed it wasn’t severe, but the car was turning less than the steering wheel. A few others had minor lock-ups there too, so maybe there was another issue. I heard they resurfaced that track section—could that be it? Or maybe crosswinds.”

Leo was just watching, but Harrison spoke as if Leo were scolding him, rattling off excuses. Leo lifted his head, kissed him firmly, and let go. The hand flipping through the video paused, stopping it.

Wondering what was up, Leo looked over to see Harrison, who’d been resting on his shoulder, turn to nuzzle his neck, then slide Leo’s robe open, trailing his hand along Leo’s abs and up to his chest.

At the less-than-subtle touch, Leo gave a dry laugh, then gathered Harrison’s tousled hair and laid him on the bed.

“Not watching the analysis?”

Climbing over him and removing his pajamas, Leo saw the tattoo bearing his name. A mark that would stay on this skin forever, leaving a trace even if erased. Tracing it, Leo asked, and Harrison, without a word, untied Leo’s robe.

“What’re you doing?”

As Leo watched him gently tie his wrists with the robe’s sash, Harrison ran his fingers through Leo’s still-wet hair, slid to his nape, and flipped their positions. Blinking at the sudden change in view, Leo felt Harrison slip a pillow behind his head and kiss the tip of his nose.

“Stay still.”

At the soft voice, Leo raised his knees, subtly teasing Harrison’s center.

“Pretty confident, huh.”

Wrapping his bound wrists around Harrison’s nape and pulling him close, Harrison’s lips curved smoothly.

“Never not been.”

Laughing at the slightly cocky attitude, Harrison’s face mirrored the smile. His hand gently wrapped around Leo’s nape, and their lips met.

“Mmm…”

As Harrison fully opened the already-loosened robe and his hand slipped inside, Leo let out a muffled moan. Their lips parted, and Harrison nuzzled his neck.

“Not there.”

Harrison, who often bared his body, never left marks on himself, but he loved leaving them on Leo. So far, they’d been in places covered by clothes, so it wasn’t an issue, but the neck was different.

“Hey.”

When Harrison’s lips lingered reluctantly, Leo tugged his curly hair lightly, and Harrison playfully rubbed his nose against Leo’s neck, pretending it hurt.

“It’s winter.”

Still, Harrison moved from the neck, obediently grazing Leo’s already-marked collarbone with his teeth.

“You mark too easily.”

His breath tickled as he moved to Leo’s chest.

“That’s why you like it.”

“Yeah.”

The lower-than-usual voice resonated against Leo’s stomach. True to his unapologetic reply, Harrison loved leaving marks on Leo’s body. As if Leo would show off his body to others, despite Harrison being the one who did.

“You strip too.”

Leo was only in a bathrobe, practically naked, but Harrison, still in his pants, made him feel a bit shy. Harrison obediently removed his pants, leaving only his underwear, and approached.

“That too.”

Rubbing over the underwear with his knee, Leo felt Harrison guide his hand to his waist, slowly sliding it to the band.

“Take it off.”

At the suggestive tone, Leo teased the band’s edge, watching Harrison’s expression. His gaze, fixed on Leo’s hand, was blatantly intense. Leo, whose hands Harrison always called pretty, traced the hollow of his hip bone, tickling it, then spread his hand and moved lower.

Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

“Did you order something?”

“No.”

But neither Leo nor Harrison cared about a mere doorbell. They couldn’t recall if they’d ordered room service, but even if they had, it wasn’t important now.

“Did we put up a do-not-disturb sign?”

“Dunno.”

They genuinely couldn’t remember. They’d been drunk when they got in this morning and had sex right at the entrance, so anything before that was a blur. With that careless reply, Leo tilted his chin toward Harrison, who took the cue and leaned in, their lips meeting.

But before they could linger or deepen the kiss, a phone vibration interrupted. Sensing Harrison pulling away, Leo lightly bit his tongue, and Harrison, ignoring the vibration, gently explored Leo’s mouth.

“Ugh, what the hell.”

The persistent vibration wouldn’t stop, and Leo, annoyed, looked at his phone. Harrison, in a similar state, sighed and checked it.

“It’s Renzo.”

“Why’s he—oh.”

Trying to have sex with his boyfriend and getting interrupted, Leo was irritated when something clicked. At his voice, Harrison looked at him.

“Oh?”

Ignoring the expectant gaze, Leo pushed Harrison off.

“Move, quick.”

When Harrison, confused but unmoving, didn’t budge, Leo held his still-bound wrists up.

“Renzo said to meet, didn’t he? I gave him the hotel.”

“Oh.”

Finally catching on, Harrison got off, gathering his clothes.

“Whose room is this? Yours?”

“Probably.”

Since Leo gave Renzo the room number, it likely was. It might seem odd they were in one room, but since Harrison and Leo had always been close, no one would bat an eye if they said they got drunk and crashed together. Plus, with a living room in the suite, Harrison could say he slept on the couch.

“Harry, this!”

Lifting his still-bound wrists, Harrison finally untied them.

“He’s persistent. He doesn’t have a thing for you, does he?”

Showing Leo’s incessantly buzzing phone, Harrison’s words instantly made Leo scowl.

“Are you crazy? There’s stuff you say and stuff you don’t.”

“He broke up with Sophie too.”

“It’s not confirmed.”

“She didn’t come to Monza, so it’s confirmed.”

Lorenzo’s ex—or maybe current—girlfriend, Sophia, had been with him since F2, so Leo and Harrison knew her well. But she hadn’t been seen since the summer break, suggesting a breakup.

Regardless, Harrison seemed to think everyone liked Leo. That kind of thinking might be useful on the track, but not now. It was useless, absurd, and, frankly, a bit uncomfortable for Lorenzo.

“Leo!”

Before Leo could correct Harrison’s ridiculous suspicion, Lorenzo’s loud call echoed through the door, followed by annoying knocking. Leo grabbed Harrison.

“Harry, stall him.”

Glancing at his very inappropriate physical state, Leo spoke, and Harrison took his hand.

“Leo.”