Epilogue

Race Day in Montreal

They were both dripping in champagne, the typical celebration of race victory mandating that they shake up the bottles and then spray them over the crowd and the other people on the podium. And as they were teammates, well, Heero had decided to use his entire bottle to drown Duo in, spraying it first in his face before taking one swig and then dumping the entire contents over his head. Duo had not been entirely passive – he sprayed it in his face but took a longer drag from his own bottle – but that showed the rookie in Heero's opinion. He'd been on the podium plenty of times during his career and the taste of expensive champagne no longer had damn appeal. It was only Duo's third time.

Bangs heavy in his eyes, wet with champagne, they took one final photograph on the podium, Heero centre, the Japanese flag behind him, Duo stepping to his right side as second place and Chang on his left as the third placing driving. He felt Duo's arm slide around him and he replicated it on both sides so that it was the typical "friendly" picture of the three top drivers. He didn't allow himself to show any emotion or anything beyond his pleasure at his own victory as the international press took the pictures and then they were done on the podium – Heero reaching down to grab the first place trophy of the Canadian Grand Prix in Montreal and his sponsor hat that he'd taken off during his national anthem out of respect and then discarded entirely as he sprayed champagne.

It was the Canadian Grand Prix in Montreal, the first weekend since his disastrous race in Monte Carlo, the first time he'd been back to the particular circuit that he'd crashed at in the previous season and this time the race had been much more successful as he dried off some of the alcohol with an offered towel and followed Chang down off the podium and towards the press conference that would begin in mere moments. He knew Duo was following him; he'd only managed to say that he'd driven well in the brief weigh-in prior to arriving at the podium as he didn't want to indicate anything else in front of the cameras. Duo had made a comment regarding performance that Heero's only response was to stare at him unsure whether it was a sexual innuendo or not. It had been innocuous but damn, it didn't seem that way when accompanied by that particular look and Duo's hair sticking to his face due to sweat, looking exactly as Heero knew he did after they'd fucked.

It seemed fucking the rivalry out of their systems had worked. Or perhaps the crash had maybe taught both of them something about their driving styles. Monte Carlo had been a disaster for Winner Racing – there had been meetings at HQ – but even while they were being reprimanded or told that they couldn't act as they had that weekend, they had acted on friendly terms which confused the team management and they took their revised attitudes as an improvement. Heero felt smug knowing that the team didn't know the reason they were on better terms, that Duo had stayed the night in his hotel suite and that they continued the activities of the previous night the next morning in the large Jacuzzi tub his suite had. For someone who'd had plenty of sexual encounters, it had still been on his list of things to do and it seemed that Duo had no objections to the suggestion of being wet, slippery and naked. Neither did he object to sneaking off at HQ to blow each other. It seemed the arrangement worked damn well. They hadn't pissed each other off, Heero had been focused all weekend and now they were exchanging casual glances, Heero looking over his shoulder to catch his teammate's eye.

They had no time prior to the press conference but he communicated silently – that after it was done, when they would be spending the brief spell of down time in their trailers, they'd continue the casual sex arrangement that had been initiated during their weekend in Monte Carlo. Duo only gave him a small wink and he knew that after the press and the interviews and all the things he had to do, they'd have a chance to be alone together.

It took hours for it to happen, for Heero to be in his trailer – his temporary accommodation on a race day – readying himself to leave the track and make the journey homewards, first class flights booked so that he didn't have to remain in Montreal overnight as the team wanted to start doing some testing early Monday for further improvement to the car.

The knock on his trailer was loud, two loud knocks that perhaps were meant to be some kind of signal but it didn't matter as Heero opened it, looking out briefly to see if any press or fans lingered before he let Duo enter. It was hours after the race, the teams ready to leave, mechanics dismantling cars and the small town that set up around any race was about to be gone. Few people were around and he could easily justify his teammate visiting him after gaining the one/two positions for Winner Racing.

"Nice win, Yuy." Duo stepped inside and looked around his trailer though he imagined his was identical to the other trailers of all the other drivers. Heero closed his door and then turned to Duo who was giving him that little smile he'd come to like. "You were really somethin'."

"You could've been more competitive."

Duo shrugged and approached. "Yeah, well, there's always next race weekend… Plus team orders and all. They wanted you to win this weekend. And as I don't want my ass fired, I went along with it."

"So you're saying…" Heero let the end of the sentence hang in the air as he felt a hand slide into his hair, strangely matted from the champagne that his teammate had sprayed into it.

"I'm saying that this weekend, I followed team orders and I was told that you had to win. That you got the better pit stops and the better strategy and I'd take second."

As he spoke, Duo's face inched closer so that he could feel hot breath against his lips and Heero found it difficult to concentrate on the words with him in such close proximity. There wasn't a bed but the couch that spread across the entire back of the trailer would make a damn decent substitution.

"I won. I was four seconds ahead. I outpaced you."

"Yeah, well, 'Ro… you take this weekend as a win and let's see what happens at Silverstone, huh?"

Before he could respond, Duo closed the short distance between them to press their lips together and as it had been over a week since their experience in the bathroom at Winner Racing HQ and with the high of a race victory still coursing through him, it was difficult not to respond to the heat of his mouth, to the tilt his head and the part his lips, to reach out and touch the braid still damp whether from the champagne or a shower and find his body in direct contact with the one he intended to re-familiarise himself with.

As distracting as the kiss was, as hot as Duo's body felt against his own, and despite how quickly he could feel the rushing heat in his groin bringing him to hardness, he still pulled away from the kiss.

"You were told to let me win?" he asked as the words had sunk in despite the fact his body didn't want to talk. His body wanted to use the leftover adrenalin that was coursing through his veins from the win to do something better and that would include Duo naked, sweaty and underneath him. Yet a part of him wanted to damn know whether team orders had come into play, whether Duo would've been more competition if the boss hadn't decided to order him to not to cause too many obstacles to Heero's race strategy.

Duo just sighed loudly. "'Ro, seriously, do you wanna fuck or discuss race strategy?"

The casual bluntness of the words made the decision easy in Heero's head. As much as he wanted to know whether Duo had been told to drive more conservatively as the second driver in the team, whether he'd been "allowed" to win as that's what the team wanted, he didn't care right now. He had the race win, he was top of the World Championship and however he'd got it, he'd driven his damn best and erased the memories of last year's crash, his dad's looks after his injury and the last race weekend's fuck up in Monte Carlo. And Duo was standing inches from him, a hand still on the back of his head, his eyes questioning and his lips set in a straight line that was too tempting not to kiss away.

"Let's fuck."

"Good. I was kinda hoping you'd say that," he said, that seductive deep tone to his voice. "Hell, we can totally discuss how I'm gonna kick your ass at Silverstone next weekend later, if you want."

"You can dream, Duo."

Duo laughed and there were no more words about the race then – the fumbling of clothing and the removal of shirts full of team logos, the finding of lube and condoms was only accompanied by swearing and teasing as hard dicks met and sweaty skin slid together until they were a tumble of limbs on the trailer's couch.

Team orders may have let him win but as Heero sat back on the couch, letting Duo's body grind down on him, lips meeting, teeth clashing, it didn't matter. A win was a win and this – being inside Duo, tasting his sweaty skin, lapping at his throat and listening to every "fuck" that spilled from his mouth – was better than the champagne and the damn trophy.

And as his hands grasped Duo's hips, encouraging the movement, he smirked against his hot flesh. Yeah, Duo could dream. Duo could try to beat him at the British Grand Prix but he was beginning to really like their new found rivalry – it seemed fucking out of their systems had worked for him after all.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and enjoyed this fic - we're now done! This was a seriously fun write for me so I've really appreciated every comment I've received and while they'll be no more Monte Carlo I've got some one-shots up and coming and a 3x4x3 multi-part so plenty of new stuff! Thanks again, guys!