Work Text:
46 club
bezzzz
You guys are being USELESS
Franky
We're busy too bez
tescco
I wish i could help
But I already have a dog to take care of
bug boy
wait
bug boy has added Fabio Di Giannantonio to this chat
bug boy has renamed Fabio Di Giannantonio to DINOSAUR
DINOSAUR
what the fuck is this?
bezzzz
DIGGIA I HAVE A FAVOR TO ASK
tescco
Why don't you ask Sava???
DINOSAUR
?????
bezzzz
HE'S BUSY TOO
Diggia are you busy this afternoon
DINOSAUR
hell no
bezzzz
Hell no as in you're free or as in you don't want to?
DINOSAUR has left the chat
bezzzz
Oh
bug boy
LMAO
Franky
Why did you even bring your dog if you knew you had a meeting like this?
bezzz
Cele shut up
Well I guess I'm just an idiot guys?! Sorry????
Tescco
We'll figure something out Bez, don't worry.
bezzzz
I'm going to lose it.
Marco had a problem.
A big, hairy and barking problem.
“No, Rubik! Don't bite at me,” he hissed in despair, trying to stop his dog from chewing on his pants.
It was Thursday in Misano, and Marco needed to get to his interviews. He didn't know the cost of not attending, but he didn't want to deal with it.
Besides, given his recent success, people expected him to show up and make some important statements. He couldn’t just slip away anymore with all the spotlights on him.
Yes, maybe bringing Rubik wasn't his smartest move, but he'd missed his friend, and he knew the dog didn't like to be cooped up in the house for so long, with strangers coming in and out of the house to entertain him. Misano was close, and it was home.
He looked at Rubik and gave a whine of despair.
“This is not going well,” he moaned and hid his face in his hands. Rubik settled between his legs, looking up at him with his tongue out.
“...at least you're happy,” Marco mumbled and sighed. “Okay, come on, boy, we'll find you someplace to stay.”
To be honest, he could probably ask Massimo, but the thought of asking his boss to babysit his dog felt awkward enough for him to discard the idea.
He put Rubik on his leash and headed outside. He tried going through his mental list of people available yet again, only to draw a blank.
Marco was in deep shit; he had to leave in five minutes, cazzo.
From a distance, he spotted Enea walking towards him and lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Enea!” He called out with a smile.
The Italian brought Hagrid to the paddock! If the dog wasn't here with him, then clearly, he knew of someone who could take care of the dogs while Marco did his interviews.
“Hey, Bez! And hi Rubik,” the man said, crouching down to pet his dog on the head. Rubik panted happily at the touch.
“Enea, who's guarding your dog right now?” He asked, trying not to sound like he was desperate.
He really was. He didn't want to leave Rubik alone in his motorhome; that was mean.
The rider blinked at him, “I am. I have no commitment this afternoon, so we'll be touring the paddock.”
Perfect.
“Could you take Rubik with you while I go do media? Please, I'll pay you back,” he begged, making the man laugh.
“Of course! You don't have to ask, Bez! It would be a pleasu—Woah!”
Enea stumbled back as Rubik growled loudly at him. His teeth were bared menacingly, and Marco panicked seeing the feral look on his dog's face.
“Rubik, calm down! What the hell?!” He yelled and gripped the leash tighter. His dog didn't listen, barking at Enea as if to chase him away.
“Hey, isn't he normally friendly?!” The other Italian asked in panic as he settled a bit farther away.
Marco groaned in answer.
“Yes! I don't understand what's going on with him these days!” He complained.
Truth to be told, he had tried to make Rubik stay with numerous people this morning. Of course, not everyone was busy; that would be ridiculous. But Rubik started acting up every time he got close to someone who wasn’t Marco.
It was frustrating, if not a bit flattering, to learn that his dog had developed attachment issues while he was away.
He wished he could take Rubik everywhere with him.
He sighed, leading Rubik away from Enea. “Nevermind man, I'll just…I'll figure something out.”
He wasn’t about to let his angry dog get close to poor Enea.
He ran a hand on his face, his heart beating faster. Fuck, he needed someone and quick. This wasn’t funny anymore.
Marco could feel the stress eating at him, and he hated it. It made him feel like he was about to go racing. His thoughts were jumbled, and he felt like he was on the verge of going into full-blown panic mode.
Rubik whined sadly at his feet.
“Hey, hey, no. This isn't your fault, big boy. I swear I'll figure something out,” he mumbled and gave a kiss to Rubik's forehead. The dog panted happily in answer.
With that in mind, he resumed his quest to find someone to take care of his best friend. Surely, there had to be a way to make sure Rubik was happy and not so growly with someone.
He looked at his phone and picked up the pace, his breathing coming up shorter. Fuck. Fuck this shit. He needed someone and fast.
He started running, Rubik following with a worried whine. They couldn’t waste any time walking anymore. Marco was about to round a corner when he collided with a hard chest, his face slamming into a red shoulder. He yelped and covered his nose with a noise of pain.
“Shit!” He hissed, Rubik growling at his side.
Large hands settled gently on his hips, stabilizing him. Marco froze at the touch.
“...Marco? Are you alright?” A voice he knew very well asked, and Marco had the mind to close his eyes and pretend he didn't exist in embarrassment.
Of all the people he could've run into.
“Marc! I'm so sorry for running into you, I gotta go!” He stressed, looking at the way the man's red Ducati polo stretched across his chest. He couldn’t look at Marc’s face right now; he'd explode.
He tried to leave when hands tightened on his waist, pinning him in place. He squeaked and finally dared to raise his eyes to look at the Spaniard. Marc was staring at him in concern, his gaze a special kind of worried Marco hadn't seen often before.
He fought not to blush.
“What's going on?” Marc asked slowly, his eyes searching for an answer. Marco stammered, his face burning. His breathing was still erratic, and clearly Marc wasn't a fan of it.
“Nothing! I just—I have media, and I can't let Rubi—my dog. I can't leave my dog alone,” he explained quickly, taking a big breath of air after he was done. It felt weird to confide his troubles to Marc, but he’d take it.
Marc's eyebrow raised at his apparent distress, and he looked down at the whining Rubik for the first time.
Wait—whining?
“You need someone to babysit him?” Marc wondered as he crouched next to the dog, his hands finally leaving the younger man's waist to his disappointment. Marco opened his mouth to warn the Spaniard that this was a bad idea, but nothing happened.
Because Rubik wasn't growling. Or barking. Or snarling.
He blinked and watched his dog push his head against Marc's hand in awe.
This wasn't…Marc? Really? Marc Márquez?
(Of all the people his dog could have chosen to like.)
“You…uh,” he hesitated. Marco couldn't believe he was considering this.
But he was already two minutes late, and he needed to get to the media pen right now. And Marc didn’t look too busy. Surely, he could…
He watched the older man coo at Rubik and looked away with a blush.
“Are you sure you're alright, Marco?” Marc wondered with a frown on his face as he stood up. He tried not to react at the sound of his name out of that mouth, but as usual, it made him want to squirm. He wasn’t friends with Marc Márquez, but he'd learned to…appreciate the older man as the season went by. It wasn’t his fault that the Spaniard kept saying his name like that.
“Yes, uhm. Hey, could you do me a big favour? I promise I'll pay you back!” He pleaded, his trembling hands coming up to grab the man by the shoulders before stopping halfway there. He couldn’t just…yeah. Hell no.
Well, not that he needed physical contact to convince the guy. Marc was probably busy, leader of the world championship and all, clearly Marco was only wasting his time—
Marc blinked owlishly, “Of course.”
His thoughts screeched to a halt.
Huh?
He stared at Marc, ignoring the loud whine from Rubik. “Wait—yeah? You mean you'll do it?” He asked in disbelief.
Marc simply nodded at him.
“Yeah, sure. I'm free this afternoon.”
The wave of relief that hit Marco was strong enough to make his knees weaken, and Marc immediately straightened him back up, his hands coming to clasp Marco's. The Italian bowed his head to hide his face. He would surely make a fool of himself if he were to keep staring at Marc.
He squeezed Marc's hands in his and breathed out.
Marc Márquez. Why the hell not. Marc Márquez would take care of Rubik. He could freak out about that later.
Immediately, he went into professional mode, the urgency scratching at his brain once more. “Okay, thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me. I'll forever be grateful, Marc—”
“Dude, it's really no problem—”
“—He already ate lunch, but you'll have to get him dinner. I'll come back late, so please just make sure he's not bored. He loves to walk, and hugs, and squishy toys, and when you scratch his head, and—and…”
Hands came up to his face, cupping his cheeks and cutting him off mid ramble. Marco took in a shaky breath and looked into Marc's piercing eyes.
They were really pretty. Especially under the sunlight like this.
“I will do all of this. Marco, you don't have to worry,” Marc insisted with a warm smile.
Marco felt a whimper rise in his throat.
(Pathetic. So pathetic how just a few words were enough to calm him down. But somehow, he fully trusted Marc with Rubik. The older man wouldn't…he wouldn't be an asshole about this.)
“Thank you so much,” he breathed out again and thrusted the leash and his motorhome key into Marc's willing hands. Marco looked down at Rubik only to see his dog panting happily at Marc.
Fuck, was that normal? Did his dog have a crush on Marc or something?
He leaned down and planted a firm kiss on his best friend's head. Rubik barked in joy, his ears twitching.
“Be good for me, alright?” He whispered and straightened back up to look at Marc one last time.
“I owe you—”
“You owe me nothing. Now go before you pass out from the stress,” Marc joked with a cackle, his eyes crinkling up in that way they always did whenever he was pleased. Not that Marco knew that. He wasn't looking at Marc at all.
Yeah. Obviously.
He gave the man one last grateful look before all but running away, his cheeks warm enough to cook eggs on them. It was always like this with Marc; he said anything to Marco, and the Italian couldn't function anymore. It was a great source of fun for the group chat.
Which, talking about…
Marco whipped out his phone as he ran and groaned.
46 club
bug boy
any news?
Franky
Did Bez die?
bug boy
@bezzzz
tescco
He's probably doing his interviews already guys. Don't spam him.
Podcast host
Why didn't he ask me????
I was free all afternoon
tescco
You were?
bug boy has added Fabio Di Giannantonio to this chat
bug boy has renamed Fabio Di Giannantonio to DINOSAUR
bug boy
@DINOSAUR
this is all your fault btw
DINOSAUR
how are you blaming me????
Podcast host
Yeah I was
Is that Diggia?
DINOSAUR
no.
bug boy
yes
Franky
Hi Diggia
DINOSAUR has left the chat
Franky
Oh
bezzzz
Guys, problem handled don't worry about it
tescco
You found someone?
Podcast host
I feel offended
I'm offended right now
bug boy
will yoj make a podcast about it
Podcast host
Maybe I will when you fix your grammar
bezzzz
Yeah, I'm running to my interviews
Franky
So who is it?
bug boy
fuck you mig
yeah im curious now
tescco
Was it a staff member?
Podcast host
Yeah, who got priority over me?
bezzzz
Well, I was in a hurry, I didn’t have much choice
And it's not like I would've ASKED in normal circumstances
the one piece is real
Bez, who did you ask?
bezzzz
Uh
I might have asked
Marc Márquez?
Podcast host
You asked fucking Marc Márquez to babysit your dog before ME??
Podcast host has started a group call
bezzzz has declined the group call
bezzzz
I didn’t have a choice!
I was panicking!
And he just
He was there
And he said yes
What was I supposed to do?? He saved my ass!
the one piece is real
Kicking Uccio out of this chat was a good idea.
bug boy
This is incredible.
Franky
You made Cele use actual punctuation. Congrats
tescco
He did? Marc?
But doesn't he have…
Oh.
the one piece is real
He does?
tescco
I'm pretty sure yeah
the one piece is real
This is entertaining
bezzzz
What?
bug boy
what
tescco
Nothing. He has a free schedule, yeah.
bezzzz
I'm so thankful to him
Podcast host
I bet you were
Did you blush when he said yes?
bug boy
is that like a marriage proposal for you?
Franky
This is horrible to think about
tescco
I can't believe this
Marc…
the one piece is real
Pecco, there is someone next to me right now.
tescco
No. Luca don't you dare meddle.
Please.
the one piece is real
Only because you're asking so nicely
bug boy
ew
bezzzz
I HATE ALL OF YOU
☆
Marco couldn't focus for the rest of the day. Which was quite funny considering he'd basically employed Marc in order to be able to concentrate.
(His life was a joke.)
He just…he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it. Marc, strolling down the Misano paddock with Rubik next to him, both of them getting recognized immediately. People would talk, and Marco—
Marco needed to stop blushing at random intervals. Marc was only taking care of his dog because he was nice and happened to have a free evening. It was nothing personal. Marco shouldn't look too deeply into it, shouldn't assume things that are clearly just in his head.
Still, of all the damn people, it had to be Marc. It had to be the guy whose sole presence turned Marco's brain into mush and made him dumb.
Lucky him.
From a distance, he could see Pecco answering questions on the other side of the room. The Ducati rider raised an eyebrow at him before looking away quickly.
…He had no idea what that was supposed to mean.
“Bez, you've brought Rubik with you in the paddock, right?” The journalists asked him.
He smiled at her and tried not to flinch at the question. That was a normal thing to ask. No one knew about Marc.
“Ah, yes. He is very happy to run around the paddock. More entertaining than watching from home,” he joked with a smile, making the woman laugh in delight.
“And where is he now? Did you leave him with the team? I'm sure they'd love to babysit!”
Actually, I left my dog with Marc Márquez if you really want to know.
“Yeah,” he croaked out awkwardly and gave a chuckle.
Yeah. Yep. Rubik was with the team.
Yep.
When he was finally freed from answering these terrible questions, he thought in relief that the worst was over. Only for Massimo to raise an eyebrow at him, his eyes amused.
“Rubik is with the team, is he?” his boss commented with a chuckle, making Marco blush until his face felt like melting.
“Obviously!” He forced out, avoiding Massimo's eyes. Marco was a shit liar. This was terrible.
His friends and now his whole team would be making fun of him for this.
He quickly escaped, his mind running back to Marc immediately. He wondered if he and Rubik got along well, despite his dog's reticence towards strangers. Marco hoped they would.
He really hoped they would.
By the time he had to make it back to his motorhome, the sun was calmly setting on the horizon, painting everything a soft orange colour. It was late; probably later than Marc expected to have to watch over a dog. Marco felt guilt eat at him.
Hopefully, he wouldn't think of Marco as a bother from now on…
He entered his motorhome as quietly as he could; he didn't know if the Spaniard even used the key he gave him, but he didn’t take any chances. From the lack of noise, he assumed the man didn't. Rubik was a very vocal dog when he wanted to be, and one couldn't say Marc Márquez was a quiet individual. He sighed and closed the door.
It seemed he would have to swing by Duca—
Oh.
He stopped in the middle of his motorhome, almost dropping his sunglasses in shock.
On his couch was a sleeping Marc Márquez, his head resting on the cushioned armrest. He was stretched out, soft strands of hair falling in his face. He looked comfortable. He looked at home.
But what really made him pause was Rubik. His friend was lying on Marc, his head buried in the man's neck and snoring softly. Marc had thrown a blanket on top of both of them, and he had an arm wrapped around his dog in a mimicry of an embrace. They looked…
They looked soft. And at ease, like they knew nothing could hurt them here, in Marco's motorhome.
It shouldn't make him feel anything, but it did.
He took a silent step forward, settling an arm's length away from the sleeping duo.
Marc could have left. He could also have said no. He was here, sleeping on Marco's couch because he wanted to. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. And for his dog to trust the Spaniard so quickly? Well, Rubik clearly liked Marc. Marco had never seen him take to someone in such a way.
Again, it shouldn't make his cheeks heat up, but it did.
It did, because Marco was weak to Marc Márquez, and seeing the man stretched on his couch, dead asleep with his dog was fucking with his brain.
He raised a hand, perhaps to wake Marc and tell him he didn't have to bother anymore, but something stopped him. Instead, he let his fingers brush a few strands of hair away from Marc's forehead. They were soft to the touch.
Just like he imagined.
He gave a shaky breath and tore his hand away.
Fuck, he shouldn't be touching Marc like that, but…
His hand drifted down a fraction, hovering above pretty pink lips. He'd always wondered what they felt like, knowing he would never get to know. Maybe—
Maybe he could just…
His thumb brushed the plump lips lightly, barely even touching them. He let his finger hover there for a while, feeling Marc's breath on his hands. They were soft.
As soft as his hair, and as enticing.
He physically took a step back this time.
Cazzo, Marco. Bad time to develop a crush. This is Marc Márquez for fuck's sake.
He really should wake them up. Marc would leave his motorhome, and Rubik would probably whine about it for a bit, but nothing he wouldn't be able to handle.
That was the best option.
Instead, he turned on his steps and went for the small makeshift kitchenette. He had some leftovers stored there just in case he couldn’t make it back home in time tonight. It turned out to be a good idea after all.
He silently heated up half of the food and sat at his small table, still looking at Marc and Rubik's still forms. He couldn’t believe his dog didn't wake up with all the noise around. He must be sleeping pretty heavily in Marc’s arms.
Marco wondered if his dog was comfy. He sure looked the part. It must be nice, falling asleep in Marc's arms.
(He shook his head. Stop it.)
He doesn't know how he managed to tear his eyes away from Marc's sleeping face, or how he managed to turn to wash his plate. Or even how long it took. His brain was a pile of mush, and he felt like time had stopped around them, leaving only his motorhome intact.
The buzzing in his skull was incessant, and the urge to look back to watch Marc sleep was growing like a parasite. He didn't notice the sound of small claws hitting the floor, or a blanket being thrown off.
What he did feel was a soft breath against his neck.
“Morning, Marco. Or should I say night?” Marc croaked out, his voice heavy with sleep and doing things to Marco that definitely weren't ideal in his shorts. He froze with his plate in his hands, half expecting Marc to touch him.
(He tried not to be too disappointed when he didn't.)
“Ah, Marc! I uh…” he trailed off as he turned to look at the man. His face exploded in a blush.
With his back to the counter and Marc so close, he had nowhere to run and nowhere else to look but Marc's beautiful face. His eyes still looked heavy with sleep, and his bed hair made him look like he just finished a race.
Marco blinked rapidly before his thoughts could wander.
“...Thank you. For staying with Rubik,” he choked out, trying to look anywhere but at Marc's dark eyes. His dog was shifting happily at their feet, looking between him and Marc.
Marco swallowed a groan.
Marc gave him a warm smile, his face opening up even more. Marco had never seen him look so relaxed before.
“I told you before, it is no problem. And Rubik is a good boy,” he said, grinning down at the dog.
Marco was going to faint.
At his prolonged silence, Marc looked back at him with an uncertain glint in his eyes. “Ah, but maybe I am bothering you. I should probably go now—” he grabbed the man's wrist before he could finish his sentence.
“Stay,” he blurted out, his face flaming.
Marc raised an eyebrow, looking at him for a few seconds. He gave a smile.
“Are you inviting me for dinner, Marco?” The older man teased, and Marco was pretty sure there was no blood left in the middle of his body; all of it unsure whether to go north or south.
“I—yeah. Yeah, if you want. As a thank you!” He quickly precised, but he could see the amused look Marc sent him
Fuck, the Spaniard knew. Fuck.
“As a thank you,” Marc agreed and sat back down. The Italian quickly prepared the rest of his pasta while the man played with Rubik some more. He couldn’t resist stealing a look or two.
They got along nicely. Maybe Marc would want to walk Rubik with him tomorrow.
(A guy could hope.)
“Here,” he put the plate in front of Marc. At that moment, the Spaniard's phone lit up with a call from Ducati, and Marc quickly turned it off.
“Is everything good?” He asked curiously.
Marc only gave him a secretive smile as he took his plate of pasta, “Don't worry about it.”
He watched the older man eat his food, Marco’s blanket thrown around his shoulder, his dog at his feet and in his motorhome to top it all off.
Surely this couldn’t be real.
Rubik whined at their feet, and Marco quickly leaned down to give his friend a few pets. Marc seemed to have the same idea because their hands suddenly touched. The Spaniard’s hand was warm compared to his, and Marco squeaked away in embarrassment.
“Sorry!” He let out, staring at the table like it could fix all his problems.
Marc gave a few amused chuckles, “Hey, Marco. Can you look at me?” He asked.
The Italian immediately raised his head despite his furious blush.
“Thank you for letting me stay. I appreciate it,” Marc said, a hand coming to rest on top of Marco's on the table.
He was going to die. Marc was going to kill him.
He fought the urge to avert his eyes.
“You can stay as long as you want,” he whispered in a daze as a thumb started brushing the side of his hand.
Marc tilted his head to the side. He looked a lot like a cat when he did that; assessing and playful.
“And you can walk Rubik with me tomorrow. If you want,” he hurried to say before the man could answer.
It made Marc cackle like a hyena.
“Then it's a date!” He said, lacing their fingers together. Marco only looked at him in awe.
That man…
(He was going to be the death of him, and Marco would gladly accept it.)
Marc didn’t leave after dinner, or after they finished drinking an entire bottle of disgusting pre-race smoothie. He stayed in Marco's motorhome until it was pitch dark outside and Rubik had fallen asleep on his lap, similarly to when Marco had first found them here.
He looked at Marc next to him, now sleeping on his couch. The old race they'd put on was now a long-forgotten background noise.
He really was beautiful.
Marco bit down a smile and—as subtly as he could—leaned to the side until he was resting against Marc. He looked at Rubik, now stretched on both of their laps like a greedy little gremlin and stifled a yawn.
He cuddled closer to Marc and closed his eyes.
He could let himself have this tonight.
46 club
tescco
Bez never went home
bug boy
did he die
Podcast host
I bet he's with Márquez
Franky
Try not to sound too jealous Mig
Podcast host
Franky I hate you
tescco
@the one piece is real
Are you with Vale?
bug boy
what does that have to do with anythign
the one piece is real
Yes
Bez is in his motorhome
Podcast host
Wait
tescco
That's what I thought
Podcast host
Vale put a tracker on Bez????
Franky
Why are you surprised? You have one too
Podcast host
Excuse me?!
bug boy
so hes sleeping in his motorhome ehy is that a bad thing
the one piece is real
We never said it was
Pecco, is Ducati still panicking
tescco
No, I've explained what I could to them.
But they're not very happy
bug boy
i feel like im missing something
Podcast host
They're saying Márquez was actually busy today but ditched his team to hang out with Bez's dog
Pathetic
bug boy
EHAT???????
the one piece is real
We shouldn't judge. They're both idiots.
Talking about dogs, Pecco, I still have Turbo with me.
bug boy
huh????
tescco
Ah
I'll uh
the one piece is real
I can drop him off at your house if you want
tescco
Yes
I mean
Yeah, if it's no bother to you
the one piece is real
I'm on my way then
tescco
Cool
I'm here
Yeah
Podcast host
Real smooth Bagnaia
bug boy
ARE YOU KIDDNIGN ME