Work Text:
Alex smiled up at the hulking mass of his airship. Entitled The Rook, Alex had spent ages building it alongside the help of his teammates and boyfriends, George and Lando. The wood was a smooth, white oak, sanded to a healthy shine. The beams that protruded from the boat and connected with the air balloon on top were made of a strong yet flexible pine, and the decking was melded to perfection out of teak. All of it glimmered in shades of white and gold.
White ropes held everything together, with ornate gold detailing decorating the sides and the deck. The bowsprit was thick, a rook fashioned out of clay and painted black with white spots and eyes of gold stood atop it. Their symbol.
The balloon was also a masterpiece of design, something Lando had pulled from his brain and seemingly constructed out of pure magical finesse. Alex had smelled the fuel and the flames from Lando’s many hours spent smelting. He often came home reeking of burnt and melded copper.
The beams had been shaped into the form a zeppelin. The rear end had two small yet sharp fins sticking out, providing a slipstream for the airship. Canvas cloth covered the entire frame, painted in strips of white and black. George had painted tiny rooks along the edges of the white sections, and white ones along the edges of the black sections.
It was the best-looking airship in the whole field, Alex knew it was, but they’d only finished seventh. Ten people participated in the quarterly airship races, and as the newest team, lots of eyes were on them. And they’d only finished seventh. A measly six points. Alex felt pathetic.
“At least we finished,” George said. He still had his gloves on, the leather material squeaking as he stretched out his hands and shook his wrists. Alex’s own hands weren’t much better. They were blackened with soot, and he was sure his face and clothes were also in a horrific, ungentlemanly state.
“Someone didn’t finish?” Lando chirped. He’d gone to the judges, submitting the details of their ship post-race, and had finally reappeared. He pulled his goggles off his face and pushed them up into his windswept hair. He looked bedraggled, but relatively unharmed, which Alex appreciated.
“We’ll do better next time, I’m sure,” George said. He pulled Alex in and kissed his cheek. Alex sighed, melting into George’s embrace and reaching out for Lando. The younger man dove into the hug, humming excitedly before he started giggling.
“We’re officially racers now,” Lando sung, his voice high and cheery. Alex smiled, unable to avoid the infectious nature of Lando’s joy. George was smiling too and Alex leant in to kiss him, before kissing Lando. George and Lando kissed afterwards. Alex felt some of his previous irritation melt out of him.
They could improve for next time.
- ☼ -
George started the engine, listening to the steady hiss as steam flowed through its systems. He stood up, flipped three dials, and turned to face Alex and Lando. “You guys ready?” George asked. Lando nodded, wiping his wrench down one last time before pocketing it and fitting his goggles over his eyes. Alex nodded too and readied his shovel.
With confirmation, George flicked on the lights to symbol that The Rook was ready for the race. It was a simple twelve-mile race around the perimeter of Foxon, the central city of Afreig, where airship racing had first started, where it all took place.
The other airships had their lights on, so George looked ahead, waiting for the red sparks that would be fired, signally the start of the race. He took deep breaths, each second passing agonisingly slow.
Fwoom! Sparks shot into the air and George pressed down on the accelerator, the ship juddering forward. It cut through the air with ease, surging ahead of the other ships. Only The Bull had gotten a better start, smoothly taking the lead like always.
“Going up!” Lando called. The door opened, air whooshing through the cockpit, before Lando scrambled up onto the deck, kicking the door shut and locking it. George listened for the patter of Lando’s footsteps, steadying the ship as much as he could until they stopped.
Alex was shovelling coal into the ship’s furnace, soot-dappled sweat dripping down his skin. George shook his head, turning away from his boyfriend and focusing on the vaguely marked out track before him. He pressed down on the accelerator, greedily commanding the ship forward.
Swerving round a corner, George growled under his breath and tried to veer the ship away as he spotted another ship cresting up the side. The red and black alerted George to the presence of The Prancing Horse, and he angled the ship more, sweeping around the bend and blocking any attempts at overtaking.
George was not losing P2 to The Prancing Horse of all ships.
--
The ship landed on the ground, wood screeching. There was a hole in the decking that Lando hadn’t been able to fix due to it appearing on the underside of the ship. The younger man’s footsteps skittered about above George’s head, and George knew that Lando was taking stock of all the changes, ready to report to the FID.
George smashed his fist off the control panel and pushed out of his seat. Alex was panting harshly against the furnace, sweat staining his skin. George didn’t stop to comfort him, knowing there was nothing but fury in his veins. He’d only lash out and he refused to do that to his boyfriend, refused to hurt the people he loved.
The door swung open, and George jumped down. The sign before him was taunting him, the gigantic three glaring him down. He turned his back on it and huffed, so upset with himself. He’d made a mistake. Flipped the wrong switch and sunk too deep into the corner. He’d nearly thrown Lando off the ship and had all too easily opened the gap for The Prancing Horse to slip through.
George growled and kicked at the gravel, ignoring the spray of dust that threatened to backblast into his face. Footsteps sounded behind him, and George turned, seeing that it was Alex. The older man met his gaze, but George shook his head. He needed to be alone.
When Lando joined them, the trio were ushered into a small side room. There were bottles of water along with a bucket full of it, allowing them to clean their mucky faces and hands. Lando’s goggles had shielded his eyes from the smog, but dots of it were smeared across his face, rings lining his cheeks as he pulled the copper glasses onto his head.
“A podium, how exciting!” Lando exclaimed. He splashed water onto his face and dried off before snatching up some water and sprawling into a random chair. Alex preoccupied himself with the bucket, drying his pitch-black hands over and over until the water had soaked up all the soot.
George sat down, and the tears sprung to life immediately. “I’m so sorry,” he sniffled. Alex looked up in alarm and Lando nearly choked on his water as he scrambled to sit up, pressing himself to George’s side.
“Shush, no Georgie. It’s okay!” Lando promised. He was smiling brighter than the sun, and George smiled, weakly attempting to return it. Lando held up his half-empty water bottle to George’s lips, prompting George to sip. He took the bottle from Lando’s hands gently and glugged down three mouthfuls before handing it back.
“Alex?” George questioned.
“Shut up,” Alex scowled. He slumped into his seat, right on the edge. George’s eyes widened and he gulped. His worst fears were coming true.
Prior to joining the Airagon League as a new team, George had felt anxious that the racing, the struggles, would tear them apart. Alex hadn’t been too upset after their P7 finish, just a mild disappointment, but this was vicious, catty. They’d finished on the podium, and whilst George wished it was higher up, it was a better finish than last time.
George sighed and stood up, crossing to the doorway and leaning in the middle of it. When a woman appeared and gestured for them to follow her to the podium, he didn’t wait for Alex, just snatched Lando’s hand and stormed off. He could hear Alex behind him, but he didn’t care.
The podium was as sweet as it could be with the tension between the three of them. The Firchen anthem rang through the air, Max, Checo and Danny crowded onto the top step. George applauded when needed to, watching the top three as they accepted their individual medals and shared trophies.
The Prancing Horse went next, Lewis accepting the trophy as he stood between Charles and Carlos. Finally, it was their turn. Alex ducked down and accepted his medal, followed by Lando, and then George. They handed him the trophy, the cogs digging into his hand until he adjusted his grip.
Raising it above his head, George ignored the anxiety swimming in his gut.
- ☼ -
Lando screamed, his voice echoing through the mountains, as he was flung from the deck of the ship. The balloon had caught on a jagged hilltop and had ripped open. It was going down, and George hadn’t been able to stop it.
The earth met him at his back, his breath rushing from his lungs as stars danced in his vision. Lando whimpered weakly and tried to shift, crying out when his muscles protested. He needed to move, needed to get help. Footsteps pounded towards him and when Lando looked up, Alex was nearby.
“L-lex,” Lando weakly called, his voice drifting on the wind. Alex turned and looked around before spotting Lando. He darted over and sunk to his knees, fingers immediately cradling Lando’s face.
“Lando, baby, you’re okay,” Alex croaked. “We thought we’d lost you.”
“George?” Lando whispered. Alex gestured behind his shoulder and when Lando turned, he saw the smoking carnage that was their Rook. Their precious baby. The product of months of hard work. Lando tried to scrabble upwards, screaming as his back twinged. He collapsed into Alex’s lap, half-twisted.
Alex lifted him into his arms, careful and mindful of the aches and pains that riddled Lando’s body. Lando whimpered and turned to look at the wreckage they were slowly approaching. George was knelt nearby, coughing weakly as he tried to pull away the smoking beams of the deck. If they could save most of the ship, it’d make rebuilding it easier.
“George! I found him!” Alex shouted. George looked up before crying out and scrambling to his feet. He darted over and Lando tried to shoot him a reassuring smile, but his face ached, and he was soon grimacing again. It hurt to breathe.
George carefully bundled Alex and Lando into his arms, tears falling down his cheeks. Alex was no better, silent sobs shaking his frame. Lando just gulped down his emotions and tried to ignore the pounding in his head.
Somehow, Lando had survived. And that was something he’d treasure.
- ☼ -
The ship wouldn’t start. Alex couldn’t believe it. The ship wouldn’t fucking start.
“What do you mean?” Lando muttered. He had one hand on the doorframe, ready to throw out the help signal. A trailing ribbon of red. Alex turned to George for his answer.
“Something must’ve gotten affected by the crash in the last race,” George said, voice shaking. Alex turned to him, frustration seeping into his pores.
“And you didn’t notice it?” Alex hissed. George turned and shot him a glare, before turning back to the control panel, his fingers flipping switches and turning nobs. The ship coughed out a belch of smoke and Alex cursed as it billowed over him, sticky warm and suffocating.
“Lando, throw the ribbon,” George said, standing up from his chair and turning to face Alex, expression stony.
“Don’t you dare, Lando.”
“Why not?” George asked, sarcasm bleeding into his tone. “Just admit it, you’re mad at me for not noticing something undetectable.”
“Clearly detectable if you detected it just now,” Alex spat back. The door flew open seconds later and Lando threw the red ribbon out. The guards of the race threw the sparks in the air and allowed the other ships to start their races before they threw themselves into helping recover the stranded Rook. “Lando… what the fuck?” Alex hissed.
Lando turned to face them, angry tears sitting thick and full on his lashes. He was shaking, jaw clenched as his muscles ticked in his face. Alex hadn’t seen Lando this angry in a while, and he hated it. Hated seeing his boyfriend looking so… unhappy.
“I’m not going to be forced to pick sides. I love you both, I want you both, I’m dating you both. I’m not picking,” Lando seethed. The ship juddered as it was tugged down, Lando stumbling. He righted himself and watched the pair of them with a scorching glare. “Issues like this are going to happen, Alex, you have to accept that.”
“So you’re picking his side?” Alex snarled. He was bitter, furious, tired. He wanted away from his two boyfriends already. They were driving him insane. And the ship breaking down on them had only been the spark that fuelled his anger.
“No I’m fucking not!” Lando exploded. “I’m not picking his side. You didn’t fucking let me finish, Alex,” Lando snarled. He turned towards George, face crimson with rage. “You. Don’t command me to do shit ever again. I’m an adult, as much as you guys love to forget that.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Alex said. Before Lando could respond, the ship jolted, finally landing on the ground. Someone knocked on the hull, and Lando glared once more before walking away.
George followed after him, tears lining his eyes. Alex threw his coal shovel in frustration, watching it soar through a window, smashing the glass and clattering onto the floor. Alex paced back and forth, his fists balled, before he finally left. Healers tried to help him, but Alex brushed past them and stormed off.
He was done.
- ☼ -
George swallowed thickly, bracing himself to say the words that lingered on his tongue. Alex and Lando were watching him, waiting for him to explain why the two of them had been summoned by him.
“We should break up.”
The response was instantaneous. Alex stood up, angrily demanding an explanation. Lando curled in on himself, eyes lightly swimming with tears. George’s own eyes filled with tears, but he blinked them away, needing to remain strong.
“We have an alliance with the FID, and I would like to compete with you two over the course of the next season. But clearly this relationship isn’t healthy anymore,” George explained. Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest.
“That’s it then? You’re ending our years long relationship because you’re too stressed out to try and fight for us?” Alex said. Lando made a strangled noise and stood up.
“George had a good point, Alex. You two are constantly arguing or being shitty to each other. And that goes for both of you,” Lando emphasised. He was starting to huff, his fists clenched at his sides. “When we finished P3, you got angry with us. The Prancing Horse is the oldest competitor in this competition, of course they were gonna take P2 from us!” Lando seethed.
“Serio–”
“Don’t cut me off!” Lando shouted. “You, George, should know better than to act like a child. Rather than storm off to the podium, you dragged me behind you like I was a little kid without trying to offer Alex an apple branch or whatever the saying is.”
“I did nothing wrong!” George protested, annoyance surging in his gut. How could Lando think so little of him? How could he think that George or Alex would treat him that way?
“Stop cutting me off!” Lando screamed. “You two never fucking listen to me. I’m just the boy you throw the fucking bone at! And I’m done playing that shit, I’m done with you two!” Lando stormed off, shoving Alex out of the way when he tried to stop him. George sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose.
“We fucked up, didn’t we?” George whispered. Alex sighed and crossed over to him, hands shaking. George hugged him without thinking, tears dripping onto Alex’s rough cotton shirt. There were stained deep soot splotches all over it and George couldn’t stop the wet smile that graced his lips.
“We did, but we’ll get him back. Or, well, do you still wanna be with me?” Alex asked. George whined and burrowed in deeper.
“Of course I do.”
“Then we’ll win him back next season. Lando loves racing too much to give up on us, on The Rook,” Alex said. He soothed his fingers through George’s hair and George sighed, melting into the touch. He could only hope they’d fix things, they’d be back as a trio again. He needed both of them, not just Alex or Lando. Both.
“I hope you’re right.”
- ☼ -
Lando leant over the side of the ship, staring out towards the rapidly approaching finish line. The Prancing Horse had already claimed P1, with The Bull and The Snowflake taking second and third respectively, but Lando was still proud of their team for finishing fourth.
Their team. Lando sighed. Was he really a part of that team anymore? He never entered the cockpit anymore, preferring to start already up on deck. It was easier for him that way, and if Alex or George needed to throw the red ribbon, they knew how to.
Lando wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the way Alex and George had gotten closer, had bridged the gap between their relationship now that Lando was out of the way. It sucked, but he’d accepted it.
As the ship settled safely on the ground, Lando jumped from the deck, took measure of the things he needed, and ran off to the first FID staff member he could find. He didn’t care to stick around whilst George and Alex celebrated, exchanging kisses like they knew they were stabbing arrows through Lando’s heart with each one.
He hated it.
- ☼ -
Alex whooped as they crossed the finish line. He shovelled in the last two mounds of coal before slamming the furnace door shut with his hip. He crossed to George and wrapped his arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek. George was probably getting covered in soot, but Alex didn’t care.
Footsteps above him had his gut churning.
“We should invite him to celebrate,” Alex murmured. George, concentrated on safely landing the airship in the right space, hummed softly, a determined expression on his face. When it was down, George sighed in relief and leant back into Alex’s grip.
“We should. But I don’t think he’ll let us get close,” George sighed. Alex smirked and poked a black dot onto the tip of George’s nose with a giggle.
“He’ll have no choice. We’ve podiumed!” Alex cheered. He pulled away and headed towards the door, swinging it open and jumping out onto the gravel. The smoggy Foxon air greeted his senses and Alex sighed wistfully. “No place like home.”
George snorted and jumped out of the ship after him. He adjusted the straps of his new gloves, oil-slick cogs coating the back of the leather, before pointing towards the cool room. “Lando’s probably in there already. Let’s go.” Alex smiled and nodded, slipping their fingers together.
“Here’s hoping he agrees.”
--
Lando had agreed, had stood on the podium with Alex and George, had soaked them all in foamy champagne until they were sticky with it. He’d even gotten the team members of The Bull and The Snowflake in on the action.
Alex had smiled, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his hair before he realised what he was doing. “Sorry…”
“It’s, um, fine. Are we celebrating tonight, did you say?” Lando muttered. His cheeks were crimson, an all too familiar splotchy flush that Alex and George both loved. Alex smirked at George before he looped his arm with Lando’s, steady and secure.
“We’re celebrating until the sun comes up.”
- ☼ -
George dove The Rook down the inside of The Prancing Horse, snatching the second-place spot away. Only three minutes of the lap remained, and The Bull was already too far ahead to catch, but George didn’t care. They were slowly climbing towards that delicious win, and George was so excited for it.
“P2!” George hollered. “Let’s finish this!” He heard excited footsteps above him before the door opened, the rush of air filling the space.
“Hurry it up. I wanna get down already,” Lando whined. George smiled and shook his head fondly, focusing on taking the twists and turns that made up the tricky Firchen track. At last, he saw the ribbons waving in the breeze, The Bull slowly lowering itself to the ground, and the staff waiting around to help them.
George flipped a few switches, putting the ship into the right mode it required. The airship slowly floated down, right into the spot reserved for the P2 finishers. George turned, watching Lando swing into the cockpit from where he’d been hanging over the edge of the ship.
“You should be careful,” George chided. Lando shrugged as he walked forward, wrapping his arms around George and then Alex before he wandered back over to the door. “Where you going?” George called.
“Gotta speak to the FID, remember?” Lando said. “See you in the cool room.” Lando winked before hopping out the door, a loud hoot of excitement falling from his mouth. George smiled before shifting and meeting Alex’s gaze.
“Told you he still loves us,” George said. Alex glared at him before sighing, melting back against the furnace behind him. George crossed over, wedging himself between Alex’s legs and melding their lips together. Alex hummed into the kiss and tugged George closer, soot-stained hands clenching the white collar of Alex’s shirt.
“Guys? The FID sent me to… oh.”
George and Alex pulled apart instantly, and George looked over his shoulder, grimacing when he saw Lando standing in the doorway. He was looking down at his hands, fiddling with a screwdriver from his kit. The cogs that adorned the handle bit into his palms and George winced, pulling away from Alex and crossing over to Lando. Alex followed.
“What are you doing here?” George asked.
“I… I knew I was the problem but walking in on you two… it fucking hurts,” Lando sniffled. George and Alex exchanged a look before George was grabbing Lando’s face, lifting him up to meet his gaze. Lando’s oceanic eyes with swelling with tears. Shimmering and devastating in equal measures.
“You are not the problem. I am. I shouldn’t have suggested we break up. I should’ve listened to you and I didn’t,” George said. His eyes darted over Lando’s face taking in the twin scars on his nose, the moles that dotted his tender skin. He licked his lips and looked down at Lando’s before gently connecting them.
Alex took over from him almost immediately after they separated, and George watched with a fond satisfaction as Lando relaxed, melting into the kiss even as salt-slick tears dribbled down his face. When Alex pulled back, Lando didn’t open his eyes for a few seconds. He just stayed there, eyes closed as he tried to recover.
“We, um, we should go to the cool room,” Lando muttered. He was shaky on his feet and George pulled him back into his arms when the younger man tried to wander off. “We’re gonna get in trouble,” Lando weakly protested.
“The FID can fuck off,” Alex said, joining George in holding Lando. They surrounded him, expressions fond and tender. “Lando… we’re sorry if we made you feel like you were a child, or like we thought you were childish. You mean everything to us, and we can’t help but pamper you sometimes, especially me.”
“And I’m sorry I never listened to you,” George continued. “That’s something me and Alex have been trying to work on. After all, a ship works well with a driver and a fueller, but what good is it without a scout?” George brushed his fingers over Lando’s cheek, embracing the roughness of his facial hair, the dappled nature of his skin.
“We’re together again, then? Officially?” Lando asked. George and Alex nodded, watching as Lando flushed, giggles falling from his mouth. “That’s good. We should probably head to the cool room, though…”
“Can I kiss you on the podium?” Alex asked. Lando squeaked and slapped at his chest lightly before he smiled over his shoulder and pushed the door open.
“Save it for the first win.”
- ☼ -
Tears flooded down Lando’s face as he listened to the Afreigish anthem ring through the air. George and Alex weren’t much better, their own tears dripping down their cheeks and staining the rusted copper podium beneath them. As the last notes rang out, Lando turned to look at both George and Alex, excitement flooding his veins.
Roughened medals made of cogs and scraps of ribbon were handed out, one for each member of The Bull and The Prancing Horse. Lando accepted his with a grateful smile before his eyes strayed to the Ofrendic trophy. A hulking mass of metal, the trophy was a line of cogs, arched to look like a wing.
It was the ugliest thing Lando had ever seen. He loved it.
Lando accepted it and hefted it into the air, the trophy momentarily taking flight, before he cradled it to his chest. He refused to let go, refused to abandon the ugliest trophy that existed. It wasn’t the Afreigish trophy, the one he desired most, but he treasured it nonetheless.
“You’re gonna have to let go of it eventually,” Alex teased. Lando pouted up at him, batting his lashes as he tucked the trophy closer to his chest.
“No,” Lando said. George and Alex laughed and smiled fondly. Lando stood up and shifted the trophy to one arm before tapping his mouth. “You said you’d kiss me on the podium, and I said first win. Kiss me.”
Alex didn’t hesitate. He cupped the back of Lando’s neck and pressed their lips together. Lando hummed happily, even when he felt the gritty soot that still drenched Alex’s fingers scuttle over his neck.
George soon nudged Alex out of the way and claimed Lando’s lips for his own. He cradled Lando’s face in a way that made Lando feel loved and cherished, fragile but wanted. He treasured it, treasured the feeling of being loved the way he wanted, kissed like he needed. Pulling away, Lando stepped back two paces, allowing George and Alex to kiss.
Carlos from The Prancing Horse called his name before raising an eyebrow. Lando stuck his tongue out at him in response before laughing, the sound bright and bubbling as it rang through the air. When he turned to face George and Alex again, they were staring at him.
“Can everyone please be silent? Sir Albon of The Rook wants to make an announcement,” a voice said, ringing through the air. George and Lando shot Alex matching looks of bafflement and Alex merely chuckled, clambering down from the podium.
When he dropped to one knee, Lando gasped.
- ☼ -
Alex wiped his sweaty palms on his dirtied trousers before sinking to one knee. Lando gasped, the sound loud in the silence of the podium area. George’s eyes were wide, his mouth parted slightly. Alex found them both so adorable.
He fished a large box from his pocket, coughed to clear his throat, and started to speak.
“I have been with you two for a long time, known you two for even longer. We’ve been through the ups and downs. The first race, the first DNF, the argument that nearly tore our family apart. But our love for each other, and my love for you, has led us to this moment. To a victory that is sweeter than we’d ever imagined. And I want to make it sweeter. George, Lando,” Alex raised the dual ring box, popping the lid, “will you marry me?”
Lando screamed and dropped to his knees, curling his arms around Alex’s shoulders as he repeatedly mumbled yesses into the collar of Alex’s shirt. George was still frozen, hands over his mouth, and Alex softly called his name.
“I’d love to, Alex,” George whispered before joining Lando in his kneeling, his arms going round both of them. They stayed like that for a few moments before Alex forced the two boys backwards.
“Sorry if the rings are a bit rough, I made them myself,” Alex explained. Lando gasped.
“So that’s why you kept spending ages in the smelting room!” Lando exclaimed, clapping excitedly. Alex smiled and nodded before producing a ring from the box.
A small silver band, the size of Lando’s ring finger, sat in Alex’s hold. Enmeshed into the metal atop the ring was a roughened chunk of aquamarine. The colour reflected Lando’s eyes beautifully, and he slid it onto Lando’s finger, pressing a quick peck to his lips before turning to the next ring.
Another roughened chunk of aquamarine shimmered atop the ring, this time bound up in a thicker, sturdier silver. It would sit perfectly on George’s fingers, but it wouldn’t break under the pressure of his racing hands. Alex slid it on and watched as George lifted it to his face, admiring the iridescent hue.
“It’s perfect,” George whispered, “you’re perfect.” Alex blushed and ducked his head before standing up and helping George and Lando. Alex turned to the crowd, laughing loudly when he was greeted with cheers and hollers of excitement.
“They said yes.”
- ☼ -
George yawned as he watched the rain fall down, thick and fast. It wasn’t uncommon for it to rain in Afia during the time they went racing, but George still found himself fascinated by it. Fascinated by the awful combination of scotching heat and torrential rain.
Just as he went to turn from the window, tan arms wound themselves around his waist. George looked at the faint scars and the smattering of fine brown hairs and knew it was Lando behind him. The forehead pressed between his shoulder blades confirmed that. Alex went for the neck.
“Good morning,” George greeted. Lando hummed sleepily and nuzzled closer, his arms winding their way around George’s waist even further. “Sleep well?” Another hum. “Alex?”
“Bed,” Lando sleepily responded. George chuckled. Of course he was. The only reason Lando wasn’t still in bed himself was because he couldn’t sleep without both of them, had a keen sixth sense that woke him up every time one of them left his embrace.
“Ready for the race around Bfeyan?” George asked. Lando grumbled and dug his fingers into the divots of George’s abs, the thin cotton material of his shirt doing nothing to protect them. Lando pulled away and lightly mouthed at George’s shoulder, sharp teeth threatening to break the skin.
“You annoy me.”
- ☼ -
Lando was still sobbing as he hefted the Afreigish trophy above his head. It was heavy, melded together from a mix of different metals. Tiny cogs and two propeller wings decorated the trophy, and Lando nearly gasped when he saw the rook engraved into it.
He showed George and Alex, both of them expressing their delight, before he held the trophy in his aching arms. The race around Foxon had nearly killed him, but Lando delighted in the thrill, in the terror. The adrenaline that pumped through his veins kept him going.
Lando looked at Alex and George before his gaze dropped to the two rings that adorned his left hand. The alluring aquamarine ring that Alex had given him alongside the shimmering amber that George had constructed for him, bound together by gold twine. He looked up at them again.
Maybe he had some other reasons to keep going.