Adult Content Warning
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Summary
“So, I thought–,” Pecco speaks again, the silence between his words punctuated only by the faint clink of cutlery. “I mean, I talked with Gigi and he said it would be best if we, you know, live together. At my villa in Pesaro.”
“It’s not– binding, or anything,” he adds quickly. "But it gives a nice image to the public. Strong.”
“Ah, sure. Okay for me,” Marc shrugs, not giving too much thought to it. “Was the same with Enea, no?”
“Uhm, yeah.”
“Well, I hope you don’t snore, then.”
Marc brings a tortellino to his mouth again, now cold enough to be eaten, but the innocent tease has seemed enough for Pecco to choke a little on his wine, embarrassment spreading along the high points of his cheeks.
“You don’t need– I have guest rooms,” he coughs. “You can sleep there. It’s not– it doesn’t have to be like that. I don’t expect it to be like that.”
Marc chuckles, low and rumbling like a satisfied cat. He chews slowly, watching the way Pecco fidgets under his gaze.
“Well, what’s the point of being married if you can’t even fuck your spouse?”
OR; royal forced marriage au set during the 2024 motogp off-season and onwards.