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Sebastian hadn’t been worried about his more mysterious character traits when he’d first entered the Formula 1 paddock. Immediately, his senses told him he should have been worried. There was definitely another wolf somewhere in the paddock, and it had him raising his hackles immediately.
He never even considered the possibility that he might not be the only one. Werewolves were rare in this day and age. He’d always been free to claim the entire grid during his karting days and short Formula 3 career. Having a territory was important, especially in a career where you had to change location often, like, for example, a professional racecar pilot. His territory moved with him, and it had always been his and his alone.
Well, until now, apparently.
Now, there was another Were on the grid. Someone he would have to confront, establish the hierarchy in which they would operate. This meant he might have to fight someone. Sebastian didn’t particularly want to do that.
It would come, though. He was sure it. Wolves were very territorial. The other Were probably already knew he was there, would instinctively know that there was a challenger on his terrain. Whoever it was would not appreciate a fresh newbie like Sebastian to go spreading his scent around. Seb knew he wouldn’t have to wait long before someone approached him with a challenge in their eyes, the threat of submission in the air.
-
Well, that had been a fucking lie. It had been over a year now, and Sebastian still didn’t know what his status on the paddock was. He still was no closer to figuring out who the other Were was. It made him antsy, the other Were’s lack of challenge. For the first months of his Formula 1 career, he’d walked into the paddock with his hackles raised and his senses on high alert, sensing danger in every glance and wondering if that would be the day he was the day he would need to get his claws and teeth out.
No-one had had ever approached him to settle the score. Not when he’d started taking up more and more space in the paddock, not when he’d started subtly scenting members of his garage, not even after he’d started winning races. That last one definitely should’ve attracted the attention of his fellow Were. But it had been quiet.
At first, Sebastian believed the other Were might have already left the paddock. That the traces of their scent were the remnants of a former employee’s presence that had already left before the start of the 2007 season. That would explain why the scent was so faint around the paddock. The other Were didn’t flaunt their presence in the paddock like Sebastian did. The other hadn’t laid any claims on people they liked either. Or, at least, Seb didn’t notice any,
But there were moments where he was able to tell. Moments that betrayed the Were’s presence in the paddock. Every once in a while, he would hug someone and smell the scent of the other Were. Faintly, as if they hadn’t even meant to put it there. But it was often enough to be noticeable, the scent fresh enough every time to let Sebastian know they were still around and that his claim on the territory was still not undisputed. But it was never strong enough to tell Seb who it was. The other Were was clearly not as physically affectionate as Sebastian, who was constantly squeezing shoulders when other drivers had done well, or hugging enthusiastic mechanics when he himself had had a good race, basking in the physical contact. He was a young Were without a pack of proper territory, no-one could blame him for being touchy.
Sebastian had settled on the idea that perhaps the other Were was part of some foreign TV crew or something. Perhaps one of the guest hosts who were only around for a couple of races in the season. That would explain why their scent was so faint most of the time. There was no way any wolf could be so inconspicuous.
So Sebastian had taken advantage of his rival’s infrequent appearances and had started claiming his territory more noticeably. He finally felt comfortable enough to get settled in, to stop worrying about his hold on the paddock and the threat of an imminent fight.
-
Kimi wasn’t really a hug-guy. Sebastian didn't need anyone to tell him that. It was clear as day from the way he reacted to most contact, sometimes even darting away from an outstretched hand like liquid. The most Seb could manage was a firm handshake.
But he wasn't giving up. Most of the grid smelled like Wolf now, like Sebastian. The faint traces of wolf that made Seb feel like a content golden retriever who had just found his forever home. That's what the paddock finally smelled like now. Home. Except for Kimi, who still felt more like a frequent visitor instead of an occupant.
So Sebastian needed to hug him. Preferably while he was wearing his favourite sweater or something, if the man even had one.
But Kimi wasn’t having it. Every time Sebastian even tries, Kimi would leave the area with more and more ridiculous excuses: “I need to go take a shit” or “my plane is about to leave,” even “I left the stove on in my yacht” once. Sebastian just about had enough of it. He needed the Finn to smell like him. At least a little bit. Enough that the other Were would know that Kimi was off-limits.
So Sebastian did what any feisty young Werewolf would do: he confronted the man. He had lured Kimi in with a lie. He had mentioned, seemingly casually, that the FIA always forgot to lock one of the unused common rooms, and that there was a couch there that made it the perfect place for a good nap. No-one would expect you to be there, or come get you to go do media duties, and the couch was perfectly placed so that the sun would turn it all warm and cosy to sleep on. Seb had mentioned taking a nap there, and had seen the barest hint of interest in Kimi’s eyes. Everyone knew how much the man hated media duties, but few knew how much the Finn loved napping in the sun.
Then, after masterfully laying his trap, he’d hid behind the door of the common room when he knew Kimi was scheduled to have an interview and he’d waited.
Sure enough, Kimi had come to hide away from his media crew and admire the sun-soaked couch in the corner of the room. He would have a lot of time to admire it, because Seb locked the door behind him.
Kimi turned around, looking Sebastian up and down with an unimpressed stare.
“I need to hug you.”
The unimpressed stare did not change with that confession. Sebastian tried to hide his embarrassment. He hadn’t exactly meant for this conversation to start like that.
“No.”
Seb raised his shoulders the slightest bit affronted by Kimi’s short answer and his absolute lack of reaction to Sebastian’s request.
“Why not?” None of the other drivers had been this hard to convince. Most wouldn’t like to admit it, but even the most stoic men liked a hug every once in a while, especially ones Seb gave, affection freely given and highly appreciated. Well, appreciated by anyone except Kimi apparently
“Why not?’ Seb tried not to sound petulant. He was a strong Werewolf. He did not need to whine like a sad puppy.
“I don’t want my clothes to smell like a dog.”
Sebastian felt his body lock up at the answer. His heart skipped a beat, as if he had tried to start a car in the wrong gear. He tried to hide his physical reaction with an awkward, fake-sounding chuckle.
“I do not smell like a dog.”
“Yes you do.” Kimi looked up from where he had been studying his nails and fixed Sebastian into place with a steely look, “because you are one.”
Sebastian opened his mouth to deny it, but closed it again, aware that a denial would look insane here. Of course Kimi knew he was not a dog. Kimi had eyes. He must have meant it metaphorically. That was the only explanation.
“You’re very rude,” Sebastian replied, making a weak attempt to laugh away the insult, more and more, it had begun to feel like he was trapped in the room with Kimi, instead of Kimi being trapped in here with him. “I am not a dog.”
“Stop lying, Vettel. It’s embarrassing.” Kimi had turned his back on Sebastian, who was trying not to bristle at the clear dismissal. He let his shoulders drop.
“How could you tell?”
“Easy. And come here. I heard dogs run hot.”
Then, as easy as breathing, between one breath and the next, Kimi dropped to the floor. Or, more accurately, his clothes did. Between one blink and the next, there was a pile of clothes on the floor where Sebastian had previously stood. From underneath it appeared a white long-haired cat, which shook his head free from the collar of his T-shirt and made his way over to the couch in the corner of the room.
Sebastian tried not to stare. He was pretty sure he was failing. He was also pretty sure his jaw was hanging open.
Kimi was a cat.
Kimi was a Were.
The Were.
It all made sense. They never needed to establish a hierarchy because there was no hierarchy between dogs and cats. There were no territorial disputes because they could live alongside one another. The scent had been faint because cats showed their affection in different ways, or maybe it was just because Kimi didn’t like hugs.
Sebastian must have been thinking too long, because Kimi jumped down from the couch and marched over to where Sebastian was standing with the same unimpressed gaze he had had before. Then, as if to prove Seb’s point about cats showing their affection differently, Kimi brushed his body against Seb’s trouser leg, spreading white hairs all over the black fabric, and then promptly bit Seb in the ankles.
Seb pulled his foot up, dislodging Kimi’s tiny, sharp teeth.
Kimi merely judged him for it and walked back over to the couch, stomping his tiny front paws on the sunny spot.
Sebastian stared.
Kimi swished his tail and stomped again.
Sebastian startled at the realisation, a happy smile breaking out on his face. If he had already changed forms, his tail would probably be wagging like crazy. “You want me to join you?”
Kimi meowed lowly, impatiently. Sebastian laughed at him. “so bossy…”
Then, he started taking off his clothes. Sebastian didn’t have the same luxury of changing whenever he wanted. Unlike Kimi, Sebastian’s other form would get stuck in the shirt. Kimi didn’t care enough to look away, but finally curled up on the couch.
Sebastian walked over once he was finally on four feet, his claws clacking on the linoleum flooring. He climbed onto the couch and curled around the white cat awkwardly. Kimi might have invited him to cuddle, but he was still a cat. No way was he giving up the best sun spot. Sebastian didn’t care in the slightest, content to nuzzle into Kimi’s snow-white, soft fur and doze off with one final, happy huff.
It was a good thing they’d picked a spot where no-one would look for them. Those spots always made for the best naps.