Work Text:
Valentine’s day wasn’t one you were supposed to spend alone, but being single and in a different country, that’s how Lightning was spending it. Beyond some PR stunt for Valentine’s day that Harv wanted him to do, his day was empty. It was one of the few days with downtime to explore the city and if they were lucky enough, spend it with someone special. The thought of spending the day roaming through Italy while couples gushed all over each other isn’t at all appealing. It would only rub in how painfully single he is.
He checks the time on his phone and groans. He’d have to get up now to be on time to meet with Harv. He rolls out of bed and stumbles to the shower. He lets the hot water cascade over him as he thinks about his plans for the day. Maybe the racetrack? It would be open for practice and should be pretty empty with everyone out around the city.
He gets dressed and dials Harv’s number.
“Hey, Lightning! You ready?” Harv asks.
They talk through making a post for Valentine’s day because Harv insists it will be “good for his image.” They pick the photos he’ll post and what the caption will be. Some of the photos are uh, spicier, than Lightning would choose for himself but Harv reassures him.
“Thirst traps will do exactly that, trap your views. We run on views, Lightning! This will be great.”
Lightning rolls his eyes at that but agrees to the post. As soon as Harv hangs up, Lightning gets to work on it. As soon as he hits post, the notifications start rolling in. He glances at a couple usernames, Tow_Mater, like usual, and someone named…ItalianHottie? Whatever. He silences his notifications and gathers his stuff to head out.
He’s staying near the racetrack so the walk to it goes by quickly. As soon as he gets there, he races to get geared up and ready to drive. He slides into the driver's seat and relaxes into the comfort of his familiar car. Everything melts away as his foot drives the pedal to the ground. He hums “smooth operator” to himself as he guides his car around the curves of the racetrack.
He keeps going, lap after lap, but soon the loneliness of spending Valentine’s by himself starts to creep in. Yeah, it might be a stupid holiday but he’d prefer to spend the stupid holiday with someone. Chocolates and flowers and cheesy cards. He pushes the gas pedal further, trying to drive the thoughts from his mind. He’s going fast, almost recklessly o for being by himself.
He glances in the rearview mirror. A blur of red is starting to appear on the horizon. It gets closer and Lightning recognizes that it’s Francesco’s car. Francesco is gaining on him fast. Lightning goes even faster but Francesco stays close. They speed around the track, staying neck and neck.
Lightning pulls into the pit. He’s been racing for a while already. He gets out and finds a bottle of water. When he gets back to his car, Francesco has pulled in. Lightning watches as Francesco takes off his helmet, shaking out his hair. Lightning takes a drink of his water. Damn, he’s thirsty.
“What are you doing here, McQueen?” Francesco asks, helmet under his arm.
“I was here first. What are you doing here?” Lightning retorts.
“What am I doing here? At my childhood race course? Because that’s clearly strange and worth questioning. I’m practicing, obviously.”
“Practicing? Are you that scared that I’m going to beat you in our next race? No amount of practice is going to save you from getting crushed by me.”
Francesco snorts at that.
“You think too highly of yourself. I was practicing for my victory, where I destroy you.”
“If you’re so sure you’re going to win, why bother coming to the track? Especially on Valentine's day. Shouldn’t you have girls hanging off your arms right now?” Lightning glares at Francesco.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I’m in an entirely different country, where I know about three phrases of the language, I’m not going to be with someone.”
Francesco thinks about that for a moment.
“I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t be stopped by a language barrier, I can pull no matter what language we’re speaking, all I need is body language. But why would I waste time with girls when I could be racing?”
That at least, Lightning could relate to.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your racing then. Try not to get hurt. It’d make beating you less fun.”
He turns to go.
“I won’t get hurt. I need to stay in perfect condition for my victory against you,” Francesco calls after him.
His back is turned so Francesco can’t see him rolling his eyes. He leaves Francesco and takes his racing suit off, getting ready to head out. Checking the time, he sees he’s already burned part of the day away.
Lightning pulls up Google and finds a place to get himself a late lunch. The walk there is nice, terracotta roofs and bright colors lining the streets. He arrives at the cafe and opens the door. There’s people bustling all about. He had planned to stay, but all the couples make him nauseous. He orders, getting the food to go and heads back where he’s staying.
Unlocking the door, he kicks off his shoes and throws himself onto the bed. He switches on the TV and heads straight to Netflix. He scowls at the rom-coms it suggests and finds the goriest horror movie he can to watch. He digs into his food as screams of terror from the TV keep him company. He gets through a couple movies but finds his gaze keeps drifting back to his phone.
He maybe downloaded Grindr a couple times and that’s what his thoughts kept going back to. Not that he was gay or anything. Well maybe he was, he was trying to figure it out still. Hence downloading Grindr. It was hard to explore your sexuality when you were in such a spotlight, He hadn’t really used it, but now might the perfect time. He was in a different country, no one knew him, and best of all, he wouldn’t have to spend Valentine’s alone if he played his cards right.
He caves and grabs his phone, redownloading the app. His account is pretty basic. He has a couple photos, but tried to avoid having his face clear in any of them so he wouldn’t get recognized. He puts his name as Monty, instead of Lightning like he usually goes by. He looks through some of the profiles that popup. He swipes right on a few of them.
One catches his eye, “Italian Hottie.” In his bio it says “you don’t need to know my name unless you plan to be screaming it tonight.” Lightning laughs at that. His profile makes it clear that he’s looking to hook-up. The photos on the profile are mostly thirst traps, his face not visible in any of them. Fuck it, Lightning thinks. He swipes right on “Italian Hottie” because from the photos he sure as hell lives up to the name.
Immediately it’s a match. The app pings as he gets a message.
Italian Hottie: hey
Monty: hey urself :)
Monty: why no name?
Italian Hottie: well…I’m actually sort of famous.
Monty: Oh? Really?
If this is true, and Lightning’s not sure if it is, it could be a convenient hook-up. “Italian Hottie” would at least understand the discretion necessary.
Italian Hottie: Really. I’d tell you who I am… but I’d rather the secret not get out. Especially if this doesn’t go anywhere.
Monty: I’m definitely hoping this goes somewhere…
Monty: maybe your bed?
And sure, that was very forward, but whatever. The clock was ticking. If he was going to spend Valentine’s with someone it needed to happen soon.
Italian Hottie: Damn. Straight to the point. I like that in a man
Italian Hottie: Well maybe not “straight” to the point, if you’re trying to end up in my bed.
Monty: So is that a yes or…?
Italian Hottie: hmmm
Italian Hottie: Definitely yes, if you bring those sweet, sweet abs from your profile photos
Monty: I wouldn’t dare deny you them
Lightning smiles at his phone as he gets sent an address.
Italian Hottie: come over whenever you’d like, I’ll be waiting
Lightning plugs the address into Google maps and finds it to be surprisingly close. He looks at it on street view. It doesn’t look like he’ll get murdered there.
He then processes that he is going to GO HOOK UP WITH A GUY. He panic Googles what to wear. After getting dressed to the internet's suggestions, he heads out. He follows maps and arrives within a couple minutes.
He goes up to the door, pausing to take a deep breath before knocking.
“Well that was fast,” a weirdly familiar voice calls from inside, “someone was impatient.”
He can’t quite place where he knows it from.
The door opens and Lightning’s jaw drops in recognition.
“Just couldn’t wait- oh, Lightning?” Francesco’s face contorts in confusion, “what are you doing here?”
“You’re Italian Hottie?” Lightning asks.
“Well some people definitely call me that, wait. YOU’RE MONTY?” Francesco demands, aghast.
“Yes, I am.”
Lightning hears Francesco mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like swearing.
“Come inside.” Francesco grabs Lightning’s sleeve, pulling him in.
The door shuts behind him.
“I knew those abs seemed familiar,” Francesco says to himself.
“What do you mean? Where have you seen my abs before?” Lightning asks, shocked.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“Yeah? Well. I did. Now answer my question.”
“Imaybesawitonyourinstagramaccount,” Francesco says quickly, face flushing.
Lightning sighs, knowing that post was a bad idea.
“That’s besides the point. What are you doing here?” Francesco sighs.
“Well, I thought I was here to hook up with some hot Italian guy but instead I found an Italian guy who’s just an asshole.”
“Asshole is debatable. I’m still hot though, you swiped right on me.”
“YOU SWIPED RIGHT ON ME!” Lightning argues.
“I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS YOU!”
“THAT WAS KIND OF THE POINT! I wanted some anonymous hook up and you RUINED that for me.” Lightning jabs a finger into Francesco’s chest.
Francesco grabs Lightning’s hand against his chest.
“I wanted the same thing, but suddenly YOU show up at my house,” he complains.
“I was going to hook up with a hot guy and that’s clearly not going to happen now.”
Lightning turns to go but Francesco is still holding on to him.
“...who’s say that still can’t happen?” Francesco says softly.
“I don’t know if my first time hooking up with a guy should be with my rival.”
“Jesus Christ…your first time? Really? And you were going to do it as some anonymous hook up.” Francesco looks at Lightning pointedly, “yeah. That’s not how that should be.”
Lightning scowls, “it’s fine.”
“It’s really not. We’re going to do this better than that. I can’t let it go like that for you. Go get changed, I’m taking you out.”
“Who says I want to go out with you?” Lightning asks.
“You. Or should I remind you of the thirsty little messages you sent me on Grindr. I think there’s something in there about wanting to end up in my bed…” Francesco smirks.
Lightning gives him a gentle shove and Francesco laughs.
“Fine. I’ll go out with you, if only to get you to shut up.”
“Good. Now get dressed and don’t you dare embarrass me with your outfit choice.”
Francesco tells him where to meet him and when. He opens the door to let Lightning out.
“Ciao!” Francesco calls after him.
“Kachow!” Lightning calls back, shooting finger guns at Francesco.
He sees Francesco roll his eyes before the door shuts.
How the fuck did he get here? He was going on a…date? With Francesco? His RIVAL.
He heads back to where he is staying. Then he has to figure out what to wear for a date with his rival. Are they even rivals anymore? Yeah, they still are. Lightning is still going to crush Francesco during their next race. No dinner was going to change that. He gets dressed in an outfit that hopefully, is up to Francesco’s standards.
He leaves for the third time, realizing that he’s met Francesco every time he’d gone out today but this was the only time it’s intentional. He finds Francesco outside the restaurant. And damn. He doesn’t care if that man is his rival or not, in that outfit, he can do whatever he likes to Lightning.
Francesco smiles at him and Lightning melts.
“I’m glad you made it,” Francesco says, holding out his hand.
Lightning takes it, how could he not?
“Wait. What if someone sees us?” he asks, concerned.
“I got a private room in back, we’ll be fine. We can say it’s racing business if anything,” Francesco reassures him.
Lightning nods and Francesco heads inside, Lightning pulled along with their hands still together. The waitress sees them and they follow her to the back. Lightning finds a candlelit table waiting for them. The waitress places two menus down and leaves them.
Francesco breaks his hand apart to pull out a chair for Lightning. Lightning smiles as he sits down. Francesco sits across from him.
“Thanks for inviting me out, I would have probably just eaten takeout,” Lightning says, grabbing his water to take a sip.
“From the way you rushed over, I think you would have gladly eaten my ass,” Francesco says nonchalantly from over his menu.
Lightning splutters at that, almost spitting out his water. He swallows and starts laughing.
“You can’t just say things like that,” he snorts.
“I just did. In all seriousness, you were going to eat takeout? In Porto Corsa? That’s ridiculous. You need to dine-in for the best experience. You should be so thankful I’m here to guide you.”
Lightning grabs his own menu and looks over it.
“I’m soooo grateful. How can I ever repay you?” he asks sarcastically.
“I can think of a couple ways, most of which involve my bed, all of which involve you begging for more,” Francesco says, taking a sip of water.
Lightning laughs at this too, “you’re ridiculous.”
“But not wrong. Now, what will you order?”
Lightning tells him and he snorts.
“No. You’re not ordering that.”
“You can’t tell me what to order.”
“I absolutely can and it’s not that. I’ll order for you.” Francesco slips the menu out of Lightning’s hands.
“I’m perfectly capable of ordering for myself,” Lightning protests.
“Clearly not, now, do you have any allergies?” Francesco questions, eyebrow raised.
“No but-”
“Then you’re fine,” Francesco cuts him off, “I’ll order for you.”
Lightning sighs and accepts his fate. The waitress comes back and Francesco orders in rapid-fire Italian. Lightning manages not to swoon. His rival speaking Italian is infuriatingly attractive. This was a date though, he could simp all he wanted too.
As soon as the waitress takes their menus and leaves, Francesco turns back to Lightning.
“Can you say something for me?” Lightning asks.
“Something.”
“You know for a fact that’s not what I meant. Something in Italian.”
“Fine,” Francesco sighs, “Penso che mi piaci.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I think you’re annoying.”
Lightning rolls his eyes at that. They make light talk until the food comes out. Lightning smells it before he sees it. The waitress comes back in with two heaping piles of steaming pasta. It looks delicious. She sets one plate in front of each of them.
Lightning picks up his fork and twirls it in the pasta. He almost moans when it hits his tongue. He hears Francesco laugh softly.
“Shut up,” he tells him through a mouth full of pasta.
“Good?” Francesco asks.
“I hate it,” Lightning says, taking another bite.
Francesco laughs and starts to eat his own. They stay mostly quiet as they dig into their pasta but as the food starts to dwindle, their conversation picks up. They talk about racing a lot, bickering about who’s faster, but so many other things too. Lightning didn’t realize they had so much in common. He does have to justify his fear of clowns to Francesco though.
“How can you be afraid of clowns? You’re afraid of yourself?” Francesco laughs.
“I am NOT a clown and there’s just something so…wrong about them.” He fakes a shiver.
The waitress brings the check and they fight over who’s going to pay. Francesco wins, insisting he should because it was his idea. They leave the restaurant happy and full. They linger outside the restaurant.
“Soooo….wanna head back to my place?” Francesco suggests.
“Does that include doing what I originally came over to do?” Lightning asks.
“Maybe,” Francesco shrugs, “if you want to.”
“Hmmm. Yeah. Let’s go back to your place,” Lightning agrees.
Francesco holds out his arm and Lightning hooks his own with it. They stroll down the street. The streetlamps cast a soft glow and Lightning can’t help but stare at Francesco in the gentle light. Francesco stops and looks at him.
“What? Do I have something on my face? Besides your gaze?” Francesco asks.
“No. Just looking.”
They keep walking, still arm in arm. Lightning spots a convenience store displaying all its Valentine’s day merchandise. He had almost forgotten his Valentine’s woes, Francesco has been such a good distraction. He gets an idea.
“Stay here,” he tells Francesco, “I’ll be right back.”
He rushes into the store and quickly finds a cheesy card that says “I wheelie like you” with a racecar on it. He grabs it, a box of chocolates, and some flowers. He buys it all quickly and borrows a pen to write “be my valentine?” in the card. He tells the cashier “thank you” in his terrible Italian and rushes back to Francesco.
“What’s all this?” Francesco asks.
Lightning shoves his goods towards Francesco. “Will you be my Valentine?”
Francesco laughs and takes it all.
“I’ll be your valentine,” Francesco agrees.
He puts his hand out and Lightning takes it. They continue their walk back to Francesco’s place.
This wasn’t at all how Lightning planned to spend his Valentine’s day but he couldn’t have been happier. He hopes to spend a lot more of his Valentine's with his rival turned date.