Drive me Wild, Rival(BL)

Alaric

We couldn’t keep our eyes off one another through the entire meal. Every time our glances crossed over the soft, trembling glow of the candlelight, a current of tension rippled through the air, sending involuntary chills down my spine.

I sat across from him, trying my best to focus on the food on my plate, but my heart was beating a wild, frantic rhythm against my ribs. There was no point lying to myself anymore—I had missed Nico so much over those ten days that the distance had felt like a physical ache inside my chest.

I owed this entire night to Dami. Right after I left my family’s estate, overwhelmed by my brother’s resentment and my own mounting anxiety, Dami had called me out of the blue.

He’d given me a harsh, loving reality check and asked me a simple question: what do you and Nico do best together when you aren’t driving? Without needing a second to think, I’d told him that sharing a quiet meal was always when we felt closest.

Dami had taken charge immediately, pulling every string he had, and within an hour he was right by my side making this hidden reunion happen.

Once we finished eating, the lingering awkwardness began to thaw, replaced by a quiet, shared domesticity. We carried the empty plates and wine glasses over to the open kitchen.

I took my spot at the sink, running warm water to wash and rinse the dishware, while Nico stepped up beside me, taking each dripping plate from my hands to dry with a clean linen towel.

Standing this close to him—feeling the heat radiating from his body and catching traces of his familiar scent—made my pulse race all over again.

"How are—"

"How have you—"

We spoke at the exact same moment, our voices overlapping in the quiet space.

A faint, breathless silence hung between us before a small, nervous smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "You go first," I offered softly, turning off the tap for a second.

Nico paused, his fingers smoothing the towel over the china as he glanced around the sleek kitchen. "Where are we, Alaric? Who owns this place?"

"It’s one of Dami’s private properties," I explained, turning the water back on to rinse another plate before handing it to him. "He bought it years ago through a shell company, so he rarely comes here. Neither of our names, nor his public handle, are tied to this building. We can come here whenever we need to, away from the paddock and the noise, without the media or the public ever catching a glimpse of us."

Nico let out a long, heavy sigh—a breath of pure relief that seemed to drop a weight off his shoulders. He carefully set the clean dish down.

I hesitated for a moment, the image from earlier in the day flashing in my mind, before I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "I... I saw the photo of you and Sophia on Instagram earlier."

Nico immediately stopped drying the glass in his hand, turning to look at me with soft, earnest eyes. "It was just a friendly drink, Alaric. I swear. We were just—"

"I know," I cut in gently, letting out a soft chuckle as I shook my head, rinsing the foam off my hands. "Dami actually told me she was a part of this.’’

Nico’s lips twitched upward into a genuine, quiet smile as he shook his head. "Those two are absolute crackheads."

"They really are," I agreed, a soft laugh escaping me.

A comfortable quiet settled over the kitchen as we finished the last of the dishes. After handing off the final glass, we wiped down the counters and moved back toward the main living area.

We settled onto the wide, plush, dark brown leather couch, where Dami had thoughtfully uncorked a bottle of deep red wine.

Nico reached over, pouring two generous glasses and handing one to me before sinking back into the cushions beside me.

He stared down into the dark liquid, watching the candlelight catch the edge of the glass, his expression growing serious again.

"Alaric... I’m so sorry," Nico began, his voice dropping into a quiet, remorseful murmur. "I’m sorry for hiding my Enigma status from you. I was terrified. Enigmas aren’t welcomed or accepted easily in this world, let alone in our sport. I was so afraid that if you found out what I really was, you’d look at me differently... or it would scare you away for good."

I looked at him, feeling a sharp pang of empathy cut through my chest. "And I’m so sorry for walking out on you that night," I replied, taking a small sip of wine. "I let my panic and my foolish pride take over instead of staying to listen to what you had to say."

Nico let out a deep, shuddering sigh, a sad, self-deprecating smirk touching his lips. "We really fight over the stupidest things and make it ten times harder than it needs to be, don’t we?"

"We really do," I agreed softly, gazing at him over the rim of my glass.

The quiet returned, but this time it wasn’t cold or agonizing; it was warm, intimate, and full of unspoken words.

Still, despite the peace, one thought had been picking at my heart ever since the race weekend.

I took another sip of wine, set the glass down, and turned to face him directly.

"Nico... were you really planning on retiring?" I asked, my voice laced with genuine concern. "You’re an extraordinary driver, Nico. One of the best the track has ever seen. You can’t just walk away from that."

Nico tilted his head, the dark, stormy look in his eyes melting into a familiar, playful glint. "What? Greater than you?"

I rolled my eyes, a genuine laugh breaking from my throat. "Hell no! You wish! You’re nowhere near my level yet, sweetheart."

Nico threw his head back, his laughter filling the high-ceilinged room and lighting up the dim space. "Oh, really? Remind me again who took P1 in Miami while you were struggling behind me?"

"We still have more than half the season left," I countered with a broad grin, leaning in closer. "Don’t go polishing that championship trophy just yet, Park."

We both collapsed into laughter, the heavy cloud that had hovered over us for the past week finally breaking apart.

"God, we are such fools," Nico murmured, his laughter slowly tapering off into a soft, vulnerable gaze. He looked at me as if I were the only thing in his world. "I’ve been so miserable for days, Alaric. Even when I forced myself to ignore your texts and calls just to give you space, every second without you felt like torture. I missed you so much it drove me crazy."

"I don’t want us to ever fight like this again," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "No matter how scared we get, no matter what pressure comes our way, we have to talk and sort out our differences. That’s what people who love each other do. And please—promise me you won’t ever talk about leaving racing because of me or our situation. We belong on that track together, whether we’re sharing a garage as teammates or battling line-for-line as rivals."

Nico nodded slowly, his dark eyes brimming with sincerity as he set his wine glass down on the table beside mine. "I’m not quitting because of you, Alaric. If anything, knowing you’re out there on the grid makes me want to drive harder. I want to race you—as your rival, and as your partner."

A soft, breathless chuckle escaped my lips, my heart swelling so full it felt like it might burst. "I missed this. I missed us... and I missed our ridiculous banter."

Nico slid closer across the leather cushions until his knee pressed against mine. His dark eyes locked onto mine with a warmth that made my breath hitch.

"I missed you too, princess," he murmured teasingly, his low voice wrapping around me like silk.

"I missed you so much more, mon chéri," I whispered back.

Without another word, we both leaned in at the same time.

Our lips met in a slow, aching kiss.

At first it was tender and soft—a gentle reunion where we poured days of built-up longing, quiet apologies, and overwhelming relief into the simple press of skin against skin.

But the moment I felt the familiar warmth of his mouth, the hunger we’d both been suppressing broke to the surface.

I set my wine glass down on the armrest, placing both hands behind Nico’s neck, my fingers sliding into the soft strands of his dark hair.

I pulled him closer, angling my head to deepen the kiss, erasing the last bit of space between us.

Nico let out a low groan against my lips, his hand shooting out to grip my waist, pulling my chest flush against his. The kiss shifted from sweet to fiercely passionate. His lips parted mine, and our tongues tangled together in a desperate rhythm, tasting the lingering sweetness of wine on each other’s breath.

He tilted my chin up, his teeth nipping at my lower lip.

A sharp, quiet gasp escaped my throat at the sensation, and Nico took advantage of the sound, deepening the kiss further.

My hands slid from his neck down his shoulders, my chest heaving against his as my lungs burned. We kissed until we were breathless, untangling only for a fraction of a second to catch short breaths against each other’s warm skin before diving back in.

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me into his lap, his lips trailing kisses from my mouth down to the line of my jaw.

Lost in the tide of his touch, I buried my face in the crook of his neck, consumed by the realization that we were finally back where we belonged.