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The Brazilian night was alive with noise. Fans chanted and fireworks cracked against the humid sky, painting it in streaks of gold and red. The chaos of the podium, champagne sprays, and celebratory roars still echoed in Pierre Gasly’s ears as he approached the quiet haven of their motorhome.
Inside, the world was calm—a stark contrast to the celebrations outside. Esteban Ocon stood by the open window, the moonlight catching his lean frame. He didn’t turn when Pierre entered, though his head tilted slightly, acknowledging Pierre’s presence in the way only Esteban could—keenly aware of everything, his senses sharper than human.
“I knew you’d find me,” Esteban said softly, his voice carrying a hint of that otherworldly rasp that always sent a shiver down Pierre’s spine.
Pierre let out a tired laugh, kicking off his shoes and tossing his team jacket onto a chair. “Where else would I go? I wanted to celebrate with you.”
Finally, Esteban turned. His eyes glowed faintly gold, the wolf just beneath the surface. The adrenaline of the race still lingered in him; Pierre could see it in the tightness of his posture and the way his hands flexed, his claws threatening to emerge.
“I couldn’t stay out there,” Esteban admitted. “Too much noise, too many people. The wolf—” He trailed off, shaking his head.
Pierre crossed the room and cupped Esteban’s face, grounding him. “Hey, it’s okay. You did everything right today. You were brilliant out there.”
The tension in Esteban’s shoulders eased under Pierre’s touch, but the glow in his eyes remained. “It’s still… too much,” he murmured.
Pierre smiled gently and took a step back. “Then let it out.”
Esteban’s brows lifted in surprise. “Here?”
“Why not? It’s just us.”
For a moment, Esteban hesitated, his eyes searching Pierre’s face for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he let out a slow breath and stepped back, giving himself space. Pierre watched as Esteban’s form began to shift, his body folding and reshaping with the ease of long practice.
His clothes gave way to thick, dark fur, his hands and feet becoming powerful paws. The transformation was graceful, mesmerizing, and over in a heartbeat. Where Esteban had stood now crouched a large wolf, its coat a deep black with streaks of silver, its golden eyes gleaming with quiet intelligence.
“Better?” Pierre asked, his voice soft as he approached.
The wolf—Esteban—let out a low, rumbling sound, something between a growl and a sigh, and stepped closer. Despite his impressive size, Esteban’s movements were careful, almost shy, as he nudged his head against Pierre’s chest.
Pierre chuckled and sank down onto the couch, pulling Esteban with him. “Come on, you big softie. Let’s relax.”
Esteban obliged, settling beside Pierre and resting his massive head on Pierre’s lap. Pierre’s fingers immediately found their way into his fur, stroking gently. The wolf let out a low, contented rumble, his tail thumping lazily against the couch.
“There you go,” Pierre murmured, his voice full of affection. “No more stress. Just us.”
Esteban’s golden eyes closed, his breathing slowing as Pierre continued to pet him. The sound of the fireworks outside faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of Esteban’s breaths.
For Pierre, there was no greater celebration than this—the quiet intimacy of sharing the victory with the man, and the wolf, he loved.
As the minutes stretched into a serene stillness, Pierre found himself marveling at the sheer contrast between the world outside and the quiet moment they now shared. The wolf in his lap was both fierce and gentle, a reflection of the man he knew so intimately.
Pierre leaned back against the couch, his fingers idly combing through the thick fur along Esteban’s neck. “You know,” he began softly, “sometimes I forget how big you are in this form. But you’re still my Esteban.”
Esteban cracked one golden eye open, the glimmer of a smile unmistakable even in wolf form. His tail thumped once against the couch as if to say, Always.
“Today was perfect,” Pierre continued, his voice a soothing murmur. “The win, the team, you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before—so complete.”
Esteban shifted slightly, his massive body curling closer to Pierre’s. He let out a soft huff, nuzzling against Pierre’s side, and Pierre laughed quietly, the sound warm and full of love.
“You’re clingier like this, you know,” Pierre teased, scratching behind Esteban’s ears. “Not that I’m complaining. You’re lucky you’re adorable.”
Esteban’s ears flicked back, a low rumble escaping him—not threatening, but a playful protest at the word adorable. He nudged Pierre’s stomach, making the smaller man laugh harder.
“Okay, fine,” Pierre conceded, grinning. “You’re majestic or whatever you want me to say. But you’re still my cuddle monster.”
The wolf huffed again, but his tail wagged, betraying his enjoyment of the attention. Pierre leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of Esteban’s head, his lips brushing against the soft fur.
“I love you,” Pierre whispered, his voice tender.
For a moment, Esteban stilled, his golden eyes locking onto Pierre’s. Even in this form, his emotions were plain as day—affection, trust, and an unspoken promise. He nudged Pierre’s cheek gently with his cold nose, his way of saying it back.
As the night wore on, Pierre’s hands slowed, his strokes becoming lazier as fatigue crept in. The adrenaline of the day was finally wearing off, and his eyes began to droop. Esteban shifted again, carefully maneuvering his large body so Pierre could recline against him like a living pillow.
“You’re the best, you know that?” Pierre mumbled sleepily, his head resting against the wolf’s side.
Esteban’s tail thumped once in response, and he wrapped his body protectively around Pierre, his warmth cocooning the smaller man. As Pierre’s breathing evened out, slipping into the peace of sleep, Esteban remained alert, his sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit room.
The wolf was always on guard, always ready to protect what mattered most. Tonight, that meant guarding not just a victory, but the man who held his heart.
Outside, the fireworks faded into silence, and the paddock settled into slumber. Inside, Pierre and Esteban rested, tangled together in a world entirely their own—a world where love, loyalty, and triumph were all that mattered.