Chapter Text
Neither of them would win be able to pinpoint when it began, truth be told neither of them could even explain what it was. They suspected, strongly suspected, they weren't the only ones, but they would never actually know, just as anyone who suspected about them would ever truly know.
It started innocently enough. A mere byproduct of two teenagers sharing bunk beds in a motor home. Emilio would pack them off to bed, in their minds ridiculously early, and they'd have hushed conversations and giggles about the girls they'd seen that day. Grid girls being stunning, plentiful, and completely out of reach for a pair of goofy early teens with legs too long, faces too red and voices not yet broken.
The conversation would leave them both in the natural state of any young teenager talking about such things. So they'd both go quiet, hoping the other would fall asleep first, that offering the opportunity for fumbly fingers to push under their boxers.
More often than not the other wasn't actually asleep. They'd both just been trying to con the other. So instead of either the peace of sleep, of the relaxation of a silent wank, bottom lip badly bitten in a desperate bid to stifle any moans that could disturb the other, or God forbid Emilio.
Once the final stifled moan has been muffled into the pillow, and the rustling of sheets had calmed, the other was left with a dilemma. They could either try and sleep, hoping the hard on vanished, or at least they didn't roll over Giving themselves a painful wake up call, or they could wait again. Hoping the other actually fell asleep for real, and didn't hear him wanking, or at least hoping if he did hear he didn't think his muffled moans were the soundtrack.
The first time Alex realised that they were wanking at the same time was etched in his brain. His body froze, all urge gone, as he realised that the muffled moan, that happened just as he fondled his balls was actually from Alex. Stifling the feeling of wanting to be sick be rolled onto his side, facing the wall and stuffed his headphones into his wars, music loud, as he tried to escape any more noises. His body, however, had different ideas. The dream he had that night was positively filthy. The next time it was Alex's moan that tipped him over the edge. Both of them just lying in their bunks, hand covered in cum, trying to work out what the other was thinking about what had just happened.
Things progressed, as things tend to do. They stopped pretending they were waiting on the other to fall asleep. Both got into the habit of listening for the other, timing it so they came at the same time, that became a thing, another unspoken rule. There were several unspoken rules - they never spoke, never acknowledged it, and the light was always off. Always. Until one night it wasn't. It had rained unexpectedly on race day. The grid girls had been drenched. The organisers, not expecting rain, had kitted them out in tight white tops. The consequences, particularly for the one who'd gone braless were spectacular if you were 15.
Neither of them could wait that night. Emilio didn't even have to send them to bed. As soon as it got near 10pm Alex yawned, which made Alex yawn. Four or five yawns later Alex announced he was off to bed, Alex announcing he'd go too, save disturbing him in 10 or 15 minutes. Both were barely in their bunks when their boxers were down, fingers around themselves, occasional whispers of "Did you see her?" with occasional breathy comments about nipples. The noises weren't stifled that night, and they'd forgotten to turn the light off. A glance to the right and Alex found himself able to see Alex in the mirror. The grid girl forgoten as they watched each other, the silence returning, like an unspoken rule, words too much.
That's how it continued between them. No talking. No touching. Just watching.Listening. Learning. Until success brought them their own motor home, their own room, and privacy they weren't totally sure they wanted.