Hey! Saw you prompt request post. First those are really cute prompts, it was so hard to choose. Can I ask for a hand holding 6, hugs 10,kisses 39 with schulott. Can it be in one fic. Thanks!
Those prompts are so cute! They’re the reason I decided to open my requests for the first time because they’re so sweet!
And you requested one of the sweetest couples that I am soft for for some of my favourite prompts on the list! It’s a little bit angsty, but also a lot fluffy!
Drop a like or kudos!
Mick felt sick as he made his way back to his hotel room, feeling more alone than he ever had in this sport he loved.
Guenther’s words rang around his head, the beady stare as fixed on him as he told him plainly that despite getting the better results in the first four races of the season, he was not the team priority. That they had fought to gain him from Ferrari because they needed the sponsors and a known name for the media to focus their attention on.
Although the words had been prettier, Guenther had basically told Mick what he had known all season: that he was Haas’s scapegoat.
He didn’t even have the energy to fight it. He had simply sat there, ignoring his teammate who was grinning at him. Staring at him as if he were a shark and Mick was bleeding in the water when everyone knew he was nothing but a small fish that the grid was tearing apart every weekend.
All Mick had done was ask a simple question about why his strategy, as the leading car out of the team, seemed to lack any push to it despite Mick having figured out by the fourth race of the season how to stabilize the car in a way that allowed him to fight the Williams and sometimes, the lower placed car of normally mid-field teams.
A part of him had known when he had asked what the answer would be, especially as his race engineer and strategist looked away. Almost as if they were too ashamed to face Mick, not that he would ever blame them for doing their jobs. He understood not risking their livelihood by helping him, but it had still stung as he was dismissed from the meeting and told he wasn’t needed for the rest of the day.
It had been a trip from the track back to his room. The evening stretching on before him and the streets sleepy as the sun set, only the odd car or taxi passing him until he was stumbling into the elevator and avoiding his own reflection in the shiny walls.
He kept his eyes fixed on the carpet, listening to the elevator music play faintly in the background as he tried not to let the thoughts in.
He practiced his breathing techniques that his mother had thought him. Focusing on breathing in for three, holding for five and releasing for ten, and pushing thoughts of his failure from his mind.
Although the little voice in the back of his head told him once more that the articles were right, that he would never live up to the Schumacher name and his F2 title came at the freak series of bad luck that his competitors suffered throughout 2020 despite his own career highlighting his strength as a driver.
All the little comments under Haas posts, from Twitter and from articles had slowly begun to get under his skin, dislodging the quiet confidence he had always carried with him in the feeder series and picking at wounds he had carried all his career due to the weight of the name her carried.
As he reached his door, fingering the key card and mind wandering, Mick thought to himself that maybe he couldn’t do this. That he was a driver that achieved young and wasn’t cut out for the harsh realities of Formula One.
Ferrari had kept him wrapped in bubble wrap, supporting him at every turn. It had made him secure in his drive, but now in the unforgiving reality of Formula One, Mick was wondering if it was worth it.
If he deserved it.
He sighed, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, knowing that even with the pain and frustration he was feeling right now, it would always be worth it.
As much as he loved his peace and wanted to be left alone, he wouldn’t give up racing for the world.
It was a discussion he had had with himself multiple times, and as he pushed into the room, tossing his cap onto the shelf beside the door and toeing off his trainers, he still had the same answer as always.
It was worth the pain.
Even if the sport he loved just didn’t love him back right now.
However, movement caught his eyes, drawing him from his melancholy pity party to someone that did love him back without any conditions or self-serving expectations.
Mick tried to supress the tears as Callum moved from the couch the couch, the taller wearing one of Mick’s pastel hoodies that despite Callum’s height, hung loose on his slimmer frame. The Brit’s hair was wild, the other having obviously not brushed it with having no appearances today now that the race weekend was over and the grey sweatpants, he wore looked soft and cosy.
‘What’s up buttercup?’, Callum asked softly, holding his arms out as Mick all but stumbled into him, a soft noise escaping the German’s throat, ‘Hey, hey, don’t trample me. I might not be driving next weekend, but I’d like not to be broken Mr. Schumacher’.
Mick would normally laugh at the teasing or roll his eyes, but instead he tucked his face into Callum’s neck, hiding himself in the crook of it as he wrapped his arms around the Brit’s waist and held him close.
It was safe tucked away in Callum’s arms, his face hidden from his boyfriend’s worried gaze and the weight of the world shared between two instead of lying just on Mick as the other held him softly, his touches gentle and comforting. Every movement filled with love and reassurance as Callum let Mick hide and collect himself, just rubbing a hand up and down his back softly and waiting for the other to be ready to speak to him.
Mick wasn’t sure how long he stood there, face tucked away and just breathing in the scent of his sandalwood bodywash on the others skin and letting that soft warmth settle in his stomach as it always did when Callum was nearby.
‘I knew they only signed me for my name and sponsors, but hearing them say it, that I wasn’t the priority when it came to strategy hurts’, Mick whispered into the skin of Callum’s neck, feeling guilty for complaining when truly, his boyfriend had gotten the short end of the Haas stick.
‘They’re absolute pricks’, Callum stated, pressing Mick closer to him, holding him tighter, ‘You are more than a name or sponsors…. you’re a damn good driver, and you aren’t half bad to look at naked either’.
The joke caught Mick off guard, making him giggle as he pulled back to look at Callum in disbelief as the Brit smiled proudly at him. Delighted in having succeeded in making Mick laugh despite the still tense set to his shoulders as Callum pressed a kiss against his forehead, making Mick smile slightly.
‘There he is, that’s the handsome bastard I fell head over heels for’, Callum muttered, ducking to kiss Mick softly.
His hands were still gentle where they had settled on Mick’s hips and the kiss was soft, almost comforting as Callum just held him. The kiss didn’t demand anything, wasn’t for Callum to distract Mick. It was a simple kiss that spoke gently to him; telling him Callum was here, that he loved him, that he was worth more than Haas.
‘You think I’m good enough? Even with all the little mistakes I’ve made in races’, Mick muttered against Callum’s lips, seeking the comfort he desperately needed as Callum drew him into another soft kiss.
The other’s hand had slipped up to cup Mick’s neck, fingers playing with the short hairs at the base of his skull. The other reach of one of Mick’s, pulling it from where it was resting on Callum’s shoulder to hold in between them. His thumb rubbing over Mick’s knuckles in calming motions, making him relax further.
‘You are more than enough Mick, and if Haas can’t see that, then fuck them, because everyone else can see it and we know it’s the car and the team’, Callum reassured, squeezing the back of his neck gently as he pulled back to press a kiss to his forehead.
Mick nodded, closing his eyes, and letting the words sink in as Callum stood there, a pillar of comfort and strength when Mick felt he had been knocked to the ground and reduced to four inches tall.
‘Thank you, for believing in me’, Mick whispered, the words lost between them as Callum squeezed his hand softly before kissing him soundly once more before pulling back and letting go of Mick’s neck.
‘Anytime baby, now come on, there’s a new episode of that show you like, and I ordered some cheat day pizza because I felt like you’d need some comfort today’, Callum smiled, tugging Mick to the couch.
Mick let himself being gentle manoeuvred until he was sitting in Callum’s lap, head resting on his shoulder where he could tuck his face into the crook of his neck.
They ate their pizza one handed, the other tangled together with Callum’s thumb still brushing his knuckle as they traded jokes and kisses between bites of pizza, a reminder that Callum was there. That he had someone that believed in him even when the world tried to make it hard to believe in himself.
Mick couldn’t change how the world or even Haas viewed him, but he knew he would never need to as long as he had Callum by his side.
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