Chapter Text
Vale stared at his phone. He was hesitant, trying to remember the last message he had send years ago but deleted for almost as long. His eyes ghosted over the chat he had promised himself to never open again.
The name and profile picture were glaring back at him. It felt like mockery. Or a threat.
It was the same chat he had opened a dozen times in the last week. A hundred times since news about the consequences of that crash reached him. He couldn’t tell how many times his fingers had ghosted over the letters, considering to reach out. To ask how he was doing, what was going on.
But he never had. There was never a need to.
The fear and nervousness had always been silenced by whatever small news reached him. A successful surgery. A recovery picture. The announcement, he’d take the season off.
It had ended his restless pacing, his snapping over the smallest things. Not that he’d ever admit these things were connected.
Though he was sure his boys knew. He had seen them whisper, sharing knowing glances when he had been especially tuff with them. They had connected the dots he hadn’t yet acknowledged even existed.
Until now.
Now he was staring at the screen, letting his fingers type out a drafted message. “I hope your arm is okay.” No. “I hope your arm will be okay.” Deleted. Then another try.
“Arm still attached?” Deleted.
He sighed annoyed before closed the app, turning his phone off and smashing it against the mattress.
Then he opened it again. Typed. “How is recovery?” Deleted.
He swallowed, trying to remember what he was trying to achieve. This was about taking revenge. Subtlety. This wasn’t about healing. Or recovery. Or checking in on a colleague.
He told himself that this was the only logical step. He could still pretend this message wasn’t because he wanted to. Not because he cared. No. This message and hopefully what would follow was solely payback.
His jaw clenched as he remembered for what. He recalled walking in his brother’s hotel room, the same way he had done since Luca had joined the championships years ago and gotten his own one.
“Luca, have you-“ he had said, looking from his phone to ask about something. He couldn’t remember what.
He froze when he saw the scene in front of him.
Brown eyes that didn’t belong there meeting his own blues. The same blue eyes that were pressed under the brown eyes.
He backed away immediately, leaving the room without a word. He didn’t yell. He didn’t scream. He just left.
The scene – his little brother, almost fully naked if it wasn’t for the boxers that had another man’s hand in them, under Alex fucking Marquez, who had lost his shirt as well – spoke for itself.
He pressed his eyes shut, hoping to burn the vision out of his memories. A shutter ran down his spine.
He was already back in his own hotel room when someone pulled the door open. He looked up. Luca. More or less dressed, with a panic expression on his face.
“Vale! Please. Please. Please, let me explain.” He said out of breath. He had been running to get to him.
Vale paused. He looked at his little brother. He saw the red of his lips. The dried spit that had been running down his chin. He saw his ruffled hair, the shirt – the wrong one, judging by the 73 printed on it, probably grabbed in a hurry while running - thrown on backwards.
Everything about him screamed of a man to be fucked. As much as Vale hated to admit it, but it was the truth. His brother has had visible every intention to sleep with Alex Marquez.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He just stared at him, leaving Luca to stand there awkwardly, shuffling, trying to fix his appearance by brushing his hair back.
“I… I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want to find out like that.” He hurried to say. His cheeks red, an apologetic look in his eyes.
“Find out like that or at all?” Vale shot back. The answer would show him if Luca and Alex were serious or just fun. If there was a need for Vale to know or if this were just two adults enjoying themselves.
“Ehm… Like that.” He admitted. He swallowed hard before his voice got smaller. “I… I wanted to tell you. I swear.”
The motogp rider let out a loud sigh. He pinched his nose. So it was serious. And he had to care. If it was about Luca he’d always care.
“How long has this been going on? You and… him? When did this start?” “Since… It’s complicated…” “Be honest with me, Luca. Do not lie to me now.” He warned.
Luca felt a bit like a child being scolded. Maybe because Vale had always looked out for him, took care of him and slightly parented him. He knew he meant well. So he let him.
“We had a few dates in 2015-“ he started.
“2015?! Before or after you were 18?!” The shocked expression, along with the accusative tone didn’t sit right with Luca. “Vale! He’s barely a year older!” he argued back.
“And nothing happened. We had burgers and went on a walk and kissed maybe 3 times total. No need to freak out!” “That didn’t look like that!” he snarled.
“I… You think after the stunt you pulled with Marc, Alex would still wanted to see me?! You think he could just pretend that never happened while people were actively-” he didn’t continue the sentence.
There was no need. Luca notice the fraction of a second when guilt crossed his brother’s face. He saw the moment of pity. Regret that his actions had affected his brother’s personal life that directly.
He hadn’t know. Luca had never told him since there had never been the need to. Until now.
Luca quickly continued after a few seconds, not wanting to have this discussion now, aware it’d lead nowhere.
“If you have to know, we got together again last year. We started talking again, had some drinks and…We clicked. Again. Or still. Doesn’t matter. But. He… He is a good man.”
Vale felt like he’d been punched in the guts.
A Marquez. A good man. A good man to his brother. Luca’s… man.
He shook his head in disbelief. “Pecco is a good man too.” He tried to argue. “He- They are similar, no? Both… Tall, brown eyes, polite – I guess. Calm. Weird best friend that’s attached at their hip.”
Luca rolled his eyes. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. “Seriously? You’re trying to sell me Pecco?” he had to laugh at the idea.
“Of course. I mean, I can try. I didn’t put you with half naked good Italian men every weekend for nothing. I tried everything and you still hook up with a fucking Marquez.” Luca sighed. He wasn’t sure how much he was joking.
He looked at Vale with an almost helpless expression. “The academy isn’t Alex.” He tried softly.
Vale shook his head. “Why not Bez? Or Franky! He is-“ “Vale… I don’t want Marco. Or Pecco. Or Franco. I don’t want any of them. Or anyone else… I want Alex.” He hoped his honesty was carried within his voice.
There was no one else. No one he want more. Just Alex.
The older sighed. There was no way around this.
He stared at his brother searching his eyes for uncertainty, trying to find out if he lied. He didn’t. Therefore, he knew he couldn’t be Rossi right now. He had to be Vale first. He had to be Luca’s brother before anything else.
“And… Alex… treats you right?” he tried not to spit out the name, to not make it sound like he was being poisoned. “He’s really a good man? He doesn’t hurt you. Pays attention to you. Takes care of you. He makes you feel safe?”
The younger chuckled softly, while he nodded. “Yes, Vale. He is good to me. He really is. I couldn’t ask for more. He is kind, attentive, gentle… He is perfect. I swear to you.”
“Fine… Then go back to him. Jesus, looks like he needs to at least finish what he started with you.” Luca laughed before he gave his brother a quick hug.
Vale pulled his boy closer. He couldn’t help but press a kiss to his hair. “I’ll kick him off his bike if he hurts you.” He whispered. “I know. So does he.”
And now Vale was laying in his bed, phone still in hand, intentions clear.
He told himself it was just because he had to. For Luca. For his little brother’s sake. He had to put away his own conflict with his brother’s boyfriend’s older brother to make sure there was no tension.
After all, he didn’t want to jeopardize the other’s relationship because of his grudges. Not again. He had done it once and that was one time too many.
He had always hoped that he – his career and his person - would have minor influence on his brother. Of course it hadn’t come like that. Of course he would always be a shadow looming over Luca.
So he needed to at least try and get this under control. Solely for Luca.
Of course.
Officially…
At least that’s what he told himself.
And that’s what he’d tell Luca and the academy
Unofficially, he had heard stories about Marc going insane without racing, him sneaking out and even trying to bribe the local dirt track to lend him a bike for just an hour or two. But apparently Alex had bribed him first – and better.
Apparently Marc was really going on his brother’s nerve, being insufferable and refusing to follow his own recovery plan.
Messing with Marc – letting him ride - felt like the best way to get back to the younger Marquez for fucking Luca.
Sure he was happy that Luca was happy. He couldn’t ask for more than a man that treated his brother right…
Even if he preferred a different nationality and surname.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to give Alex a hard time. Afterall. If he wanted Luca, he’d have to be able to handle things.
So he settled for a simple text. One that he send before he could overthink it and rethink the plan in itself.
“Ranch day is tomorrow. Wanna join? I can get you a bike.”
Send and delivered.
No further explanation. No reason. Just an offer.
And Marc had stopped expecting an explanation. He had stopped hoping for reasons. He no longer tried to understand what was going on in the Italian’s brain.
He had learned to accept what he was given. So when he saw the message he didn’t question it. He didn’t try to see a reason. He was too tired to find a reason.
He didn’t felt like himself anymore. Not being able to ride had torn at his heart. He had lost a part of himself and this felt like a chance to get it back.
It felt like he could get himself back. Maybe he could even pretend it was still 2014. Everything was alright. He had never been torn into pieces, physically and mentally.
All he saw was a chance to find himself on a bike, on a track with dirt flying beside him, chasing other riders. Nothing more. Nothing less.
And he promised himself to see nothing more than that in it. Just a way for him to race. To get away from Alex. The recovery. The worry.
A way to just be.
Before every reason why this was a stupid idea filled his head, he booked a flight.
“I’ll be there at 3pm tomorrow” he replied slowly. He couldn’t type fast with one hand.
Vale just nodded. He didn’t send confirmation. He didn’t ask questions about the logistics.
So he just stood there in the bright afternoon sun, looking over the ranch’s front yard while he was leaning against the door.
Everyone was already there. The bunch of engineers were inside, the academy was currently changing – probably messing around and joking, unaware of the guest they’d face soon.
He had only told a few mechanics, the ones that would get Marc’s bike ready.
He had even made a point in getting a 93 sticker on one of the unused, not customized dirtbikes. A yellow 93. A peace offering, small but it was there.
It didn’t take long until he heard an engine. He watched a car pull up, stopping a few spots away from where his academy boys had parked.
He pushed himself from the door, approaching the car. He couldn’t help but look inside. He caught a glimpse of a tired expression.
It was unusual for the younger one. There was no overflowing energy. No cocky smily. No music blasting. He just sat there, shutting the car down, before grabbing his backpack and getting out.
Now there was no going back. No way out. For neither of them.
They made eye contact. Neither said anything.
Marc froze in his spot, scared the message was meant for someone else. Scared he was about to be thrown out. Told that he had made a foul out of himself.
But Vale just took the suit from the backseat. It wasn’t his usual honda suit. It was plane black one.
He didn’t say anything about it. Instead he eyed the sling around Marc’s arm for a moment.
“You sure you can ride with that?” he asked in a flat voice.
“If I can drive, I can ride.” The Spaniard shot back.
“Good. But if your injury becomes a threat for the other, you’re out. That’s the rule.” He stated. His voice was still a bit cold.
“Fair enough.” The Spaniard admitted since it was in fact the same rule for each of the boys too.
They made their way back to the house. Both looking ahead. “I got you a bike. It’s the same as the boys ones, so I expect you to give them hell… Unless that arm is slowing you down.” He said.
A grin accompanied his teasing. Marc saw it from the corner of his eyes. He chuckled.
“You wish, old man.”
And for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed.