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Lewis is 13 years old. His hands are slick with oil from his kart and questions whether he’s done enough with it. He eyes his surroundings, spots all of his fellow competitors crowded around their own karts, tools strewn about carelessly and Lewis thinks about where this may end up for him. He hopes to make his dream of Formula 1 because he doesn’t know of any other professions that would suit him - that’s the type of life he is set on having for himself: one that’s alone, him against the world in a sport like Formula 1. 

His entire train of thought is ruined as a golden halo of hair fills his vision, and suddenly he’s on his ass on the floor, kart forgotten. Stunned, Lewis wonders which one of his fellow drivers is in such desperation to get to his destination that he fails to spot him from a mile away. And yet here is the other guy, slightly taller than him with blonde hair and muddy racing boots. He’s wearing a plain black raincoat and in his hands sits a dark grey beanie. When Lewis really pays attention to his face, he realises that the guy who just ran full-steam ahead into him was none other than Keke Rosberg’s son, Nico.

“Sorry!” Nico stutters out, a lilt to his voice. Lewis blinks, “It’s fine, I guess, but maybe pay a little more attention to where you’re going, yeah?” It’s definitely harsh of him to blurt out to a competitor he barely knows, a fellow driver who is the son of a literal Formula 1 World Champion.

Nico doesn’t even blink at the somewhat rude tone, he huffs out a laugh and stands up, hand outstretched in an offering to assist Lewis. He’s swaying slightly when they finally get back to their feet, anxiety making him twist his fingers in what seems to be a quite painful manner. “Yeah, no, I uh- I’ll make sure of that next time,” he states. Lewis smiles, “Yeah, it’ll save you from knocking someone else over.” 

Nico laughs again, “Well, that’s fair I suppose. Maybe you can watch out for me.” Lewis shakes his head, “I’ll be focusing more on my driving.” Nico shrugs, “Do you not think I might need to be supervised?” His face lights up as he pitches the opportunity. “Nah, surely you’ve already got someone to do that for you.”

An air of sadness surrounds them as Nico’s smile drops. Lewis wonders what it is that he’s said. As he opens his mouth to utter an apology, Nico beats him to it. Whatever it is that plagued Nico, plagues him no longer. “Well, what’s your name?”

“Lewis, Lewis Hamilton.”

He watches Nico test it on the tip of his tongue, the German accent curling around it. Lewis knew it was unlikely that he would make friends with the blond German. 

A boy like him from the town of Stevenage doesn’t become friends with the son of a World Champion. 

Life proved him wrong, however, and he adapted to having Nico around. Lewis thinks he’s found himself a lifelong friend in Nico, thinks he could trust him with anything. They might live thousands of miles away from each other, Stevenage to Monaco, but no one understands Lewis and Nico as well as Nico and Lewis. But it didn’t matter to them, because they always understood. They would sit together during the rare times of tranquillity during a karting competition, they sat under the stars on a pristine white Greek beach looking at each other with dream-filled eyes whilst they whispered in wonderful, thought-out details about how they would dominate Formula 1 together, claim titles together, make the sport their hunting ground - they would be invincible .

It’s true, they’re 15 years old and they find themselves in their own karting team, a 1-2 finish to their names and Lewis finds himself the European champion for that year, Nico promises to fight him for the next championship they compete in.

They’re 15 and sitting in their hotel room, eating their pizza together and Lewis can’t find it in himself to back down from the challenge that Nico lays down at him - they ate their pizza slices in record time as if they hadn’t eaten in two weeks and they laugh together as Robert sits there, faux disgust written on his face.

They’re 15 years old when Dino scolds them for trashing the hotel room, a pinch to his brow as he’s fighting the urge to tell Keke or leave it be. Lewis and Nico avoid eye contact, knowing they’ll burst into laughter if they dare look one another in the eye. Dino, with nothing more to say, leaves - hears the cackle of the two boys in the room behind him and lets a smile grace his face, all thoughts of informing Keke abandoned.

They’re 15 years old when Nico overhears someone questioning just how close they are, that wherever one was the other was always two steps behind. He hears the whispers, knows Lewis does too, and they decide to block them out. 

No one understands them like they understand each other.

Nico is 19 and Lewis 20.

Lewis is pushing harder at his dream to become a Formula 1 driver. So is Nico. Not because there was the worry that he couldn’t do it, he could, but because he realised that there was a certain worry that there might not be a seat open for him, and if there was, would a Formula 1 team be willing to sign him on if they had the belief that there were better options at hand? He thinks of Nico, of Keke, and acknowledges that out of them both Nico would have the upper hand in that regard. 

He realises the disadvantages he has with his background and the way that the sport is. And he simply won’t abide by the stereotypes of the sport. He might be disadvantaged, but Lewis knows he will find the determination to fight the old ways of the sport.

So, Nico is 19 years old and Lewis is 20 when Lewis is sitting in his bedroom, playing around with Nicholas because he had begged Lewis to. He throws a softball into the air, catches it, and rolls it back to Nic who does the same. His stepmum appears to get them for lunch, and Lewis begins to feel the temptation to go for a run itch beneath his skin. He throws on his running shoes after their lunch, and mindlessly runs around for a while until it starts to rain slightly.

He’s just got out of the shower, watching the rain fall heavily outside. Lewis basks in the peace of it when it’s suddenly interrupted by his beloved Nokia 3310 shrilling out a ringtone. He rushes to his phone, frantic. ‘Nico’ is the name gracing the screen and Lewis takes split milliseconds before accepting the call, wet hair forgotten and t-shirt left on the floor.

“Lew, Lew! I have to tell you something!” He shouts down the phone, the urgency and excitement mixed in his voice. Lewis can picture the way Nico is gripping his hair, strands pulled in various directions like he’s been electrocuted. He’s panicky and desperate to share whatever it is with Lewis. He’s grown accustomed to it, being told whatever it is straight away. They’ve been as thick as thieves for close to 6 years now; they’ve always helped each other out. Lewis sits down at the bottom of his bed and chews gently on his bottom lip. Nico is breathing heavily down the line and Lewis now desperately wishes they were together in person, he figures it would be much easier for whatever it is Nico is about to reveal to him.

“Right, okay so, like. Okay, wait- hang on a minute, mama, I just want to tell Lew” Lewis hears the door shut in the background. “I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise- promise me, Lew, you won’t hate me.” Nico starts. Lewis feels laughter bubble up. In what universe could he hate Nico? He settles himself, thinks about the absolutely absurd request of Nico’s. He could never hate Nico.

But Lewis knows Nico, and without a verbal confirmation, he’ll get himself riled up. 

“Okay, I promise.” He states. 

Nico breathes out a grateful sigh over the phone.

“Williams is signing me on as their second test driver!” He excitedly yaps over the phone.

Lewis blinks once. Twice. Lets the information sit for a moment.

He feels as though he’s been propelled back in time, to the two 15-year-olds, discussing the way they’ll break into Formula 1 together, make the sport their own. It wasn’t a similar situation, one was the far-fetched dreams of two children on the cusp of adolescence, this one Nico is telling him that he’s one vital step closer to that very dream.

Lewis has been raised to be grateful for whatever comes his way; jealousy was something he didn’t really know how to deal with. Jealousy was a feeling that had sat deep in his chest when he saw other kids with the newest stuff at school, or when kids turned up to karting with shiny new helmets and beautifully decorated karts. He always remembered to be grateful and that his time would come. He’s never felt the urge to be jealous towards Nico. It was Nico, after all. And yet, he notices that ugly feeling reeling at the bottom of his gut and he feels shame .

“Oh,” is all Lewis can choke out.

For the most part, Lewis isn’t very good with words, he could learn every word in the dictionary, but it doesn’t mean he can utilise them and form them into a sentence when it’s necessary.

Lewis registers that Nico’s breath hitches over the phone, and Lewis envisions the look of worry and panic that most likely sets in. Nico has always been better than a lot of people (the advantages and disadvantages of having a father like Keke Rosberg), everyone putting him on that pedestal and the children of his year bullying him for it. Lewis’ heart beats a little faster remembering this, and he’s scurrying to find a way to calm his best friend.

“Congratulations, Nico. You deserve this.” Lewis offers.

Nico whispers, “Is that okay?”

Surprisingly, another ridiculous question again falls from Nico’s lips. Lewis isn’t going to say, ‘Yeah I hate this, I don’t want you to go and live out our dream.’

“Nico–why wouldn’t it be?” He says and Nico laughs.

“I was just... worried?”

“There’s nothing to be worried about, I’m proud of you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He affirms.

Nico is 19 and off to Williams to be their test driver, soon to fall into the gaggle of 20 drivers who get to race in Formula 1.

Lewis is 20 when he promises Nico that he could never hate him. Nico believes him.

They’re 20.

Racing, Lewis learns, is better with Nico around. He continues to win, he wins the Formula 3 Euro Series and the Masters of Formula 3 for this year. It’s a lot more work than he’s done before, he’s on a mission to be picked up for a GP2 seat, to be recognised for a coveted F1 seat. He and Nico are still as close as ever, distance settling in a little more without karting or racing together. Nico focuses more on his position in Williams, Lewis focuses a little more on his own ambitions.

Lewis attracts people to him as if were a flower for some bees, but, in the end, he hasn’t connected with anyone like he has with Nico. Well, he has friends, but it’s more like he’s friendly with them but doesn’t find himself mingling with them.

The closest he’s gotten so far is probably Sebastian.

They’ve known each other throughout the Euro Series, they’re as friendly as drivers will want to be during the competition, but Lewis barely knows Sebastian. What shocks Lewis is that for an entire 2 days during the run-up to the Masters, wherever Lewis went, he couldn’t shake off Sebastian Vettel. He just appeared out of thin air one moment and stuck to Lewis’ side. Lewis finished 1st that race, Seb down in 11th. Sebastian seemed a bit down following the race, and Lewis decides against being an asshole and goes to comfort him. There, after he’d spent hours chatting to Seb about the most obscure topics he could think of, he decided that maybe having someone like Seb as a close friend - besides Nico - wasn’t as bad of an idea. 

Seb has that classic dry German humour, is kind to those he’s friends with, and has that lilt to his voice that makes Lewis’ train of thought tumble towards another blond German he knows. However, unlike Nico, Seb is brash and wild, an attitude to him that many found unappealing, but Lewis enjoyed it. It’s nice, to spend time with someone who has no filter, says what he wants to say because it means Lewis doesn’t have to jump hurdles to understand the flowery words that are usually thrown his way following a win.

There was an overwhelming sense of a promise that they would remain good friends throughout the rest of the 2005 season. And so, Seb and Lewis part ways. He tells his father of the young German he’s befriended, but when they’re heading home following a successful day, the only German he can think of (wants to think of, his mind supplies dangerously) is hundreds of miles away, concentrated on the Canadian Grand Prix. Nico and Lewis call here and there, when they can, yet with the position they find themselves in it’s very difficult to catch one another at the right time.

It’s in Zandvoort, when Lewis gets the call that he’ll be in GP2 next year. That day, he stands on the top step of the podium, Seb next to him. 

The person he tells first is Seb, just before the media catches wind of it. Seb congratulates him, hugs him tightly and makes a comment about how he’ll give him a challenge soon enough. Seb listens to his worries that night, whether he’ll be good enough, kind enough to burn out any of Lewis’ concerns. 

He helps.

After Seb leaves him to his thoughts, Lewis fights the urge to call Nico. He desperately wants to tell him, "Hey look! I’m getting there too!” but the feeling of this achievement for Lewis will be overshadowed by the knowledge that Nico will be racing for Williams in F1 for the 2006 season. Lewis absently bites his lip, picks up his phone, hovers his thumb over the call button. He decides against it, chucks his phone away and waits for Nico to find out through the press. The announcement comes, and no sooner than 10 minutes later Nico’s text comes through.

Nico

Congrats!! Hope I’ll see u in F1 soon!!

Lewis

Thanks, Pu! Let’s see if I can give u some competition :)

Lewis is 21.

He remembers coming to Monaco when he was younger, by invitation of the Rosbergs. By his own account, it was one of the most beautiful places he’d seen, to this day it still is. Excitement is coursing through his body, knows Nico is in town, the possibility Nico might watch him race. He’s already seen Keke hovering about the paddock; he has invited him and his dad round for dinner following the GP2 race on Saturday. 

He takes a few hours to study over data sheets from previous years with his engineer, a few too many that when he’s looking out, it’s to the slow set of the sun over the bay. Soon enough, the content on the sheet starts to blur together.

“Let’s pack this up here, Lewis, we’ve got plenty of time to go over data in the next few days.” He agrees. It’s getting late, and he can feel the dull pounding at the base of his skull indicating a headache was approaching, and he’s 100% sure that if his dad doesn’t get his minimum 7 hours of sleep tonight, he might spontaneously combust.

They get back to the hotel and Anthony heads off at the earliest convenience, tells Lewis he can do what he wants as long as it’s ‘nothing reckless’. Timo Glock bumps into him, asks if he wants to explore a bit of Monaco. He’s not against the idea, and an hour later they find themselves towards the back end of a small chain restaurant in a somewhat disguised booth. It’s quiet, the food pleasant enough and they’re discussing the past races and their expectations for the future ones when the bell chimes. Lewis thinks nothing of it until Glock boots him hard enough in the shin that Lewis is convinced he’s cracked it. 

“Did you know Rosberg was gonna be here?” Timo questions. Lewis turns his head towards the door and spots the familiar golden halo of hair belonging to none other than Nico Rosberg. He’s holding hands with an unfamiliar woman, someone Lewis has never seen before but knows plenty about.

Vivian Sibold.

Nico has, on more than one occasion, gushed about the smart, pretty lady currently hanging off of his arm that his mother introduced him to, “Our mothers used to work together, that’s how we know each other, did you know that Lew?”

Lewis is watching Vivian intently, wonders what she’s like in person. His stomach twists. In fact, Lewis thinks that he might introduce him to her this weekend - call it intuition. He shifts his focus onto Nico and the blinding smile on his face makes Lewis blink a few times. It’s a smile he’s never been privy to before.

“Is Nico on a date?” Timo sounds surprised, as if someone with the looks that Nico Rosberg was blessed with would remain unattached for the rest of his life. Lewis tears his attention away from the pair, dragging his focus back to his half-eaten plate of food. He can slowly feel his appetite dissipate from him. “I guess,” he states, stabbing his fork back into the pasta to finish it off before they decide to head off. Glock looks at him, “Do you know who he’s with?” Lewis doesn’t think it’s in his place to say and shrugs. Timo can find out for himself during the weekend.

They continue with their dinner, floating between different, mundane topics. He occasionally gets distracted by Nico’s laugh and wonders what they are talking about. They must have something in common; they’ve known each other as long as, if not longer, than Nico and Lewis have been friends. An unwanted thought crosses Lewis’ mind; d oes she know Nico the way that Lewis does? Does she know him better? Something in the back of Lewis’ mind hopes not. 

Timo kicks his shin again, “Lewis?” and it interrupts his thought process.

“Yeah?”

“You good? You kinda just… disappeared on me there.” He laughs softly and Lewis shakes his head.

“Yeah man, I’m good. Was just thinking about driving on these roads.” He lies.

Timo thoughtfully nods along, “Fairmont is gonna be fun, indeed.” and Lewis belts out a laugh in return.

He checks his watch, “Should we head off? It’s getting late.” and Timo just shrugs in that nonchalant German way.

They request the check and pay before rushing out of the door and past Nico Rosberg. If Timo thought there was anything odd about how Lewis point-blank ignored his best friend, it quickly passes as he loses his footing out of the door and trips. Lewis can’t stop himself in time, starts chortling in the middle of the street, gripping his stomach hard as the dark-haired man just sits there, unimpressed.

If either of them had turned around, they would’ve noticed the perceptive gaze of Nico Rosberg on them.

He’s only just arrived to start work with his engineers when he’s getting dragged down by someone. They both land unceremoniously on the ground and Lewis is half-tempted to throw back an elbow until he spots the flowing, silky locks.

“Maybe you just attract Germans like a magnet.” Nico breathes out. 

Lewis slaps him around the back of the head and he just laughs, sarcastic hurt gracing his features.

“And perhaps you have no more than one brain cell.” Lewis shoots back.

They help each other up, Lewis brushing himself down whilst Nico runs his hand through his hair, “Did you enjoy your dinner last night with Glock?”

“Hm?”

“At the restaurant, yesterday. I was there with Vivi and I spotted you there with him.” Nico blurts, and they start walking down where the paddock is starting to take shape. Lewis huffs, the memory of Timo Glock falling onto his ass replaying in his mind. 

“Oh- yes, we went exploring the area a little bit, ended up in the back of the restaurant. Lovely place, might I add. What were you doing there?” 

“Oh! I was out with Vivi, I was going to bring her this weekend for your GP2 race but she’s busy. She was the one who pointed you out when we arrived, pity you didn’t notice we were there, I would’ve loved to introduce the two of you.”

“Ah, you know, there’s always a next time.” Lewis half shrugs.

“Will you be here for the Grand Prix next week?”

“Dunno, possibly. I’ll have to check with the team and my dad.”

“So…” Nico drags, question prepped to ask.

“What do you want?”

“How do you think this weekend will go?”

Lewis smiles. “I’m gonna win,” he says, with a smirk plastered to his face. 

Nico chuckles, “Yeah, you think?”

“Yeah, I think so. Can’t disappoint you and your father now, can I?”

“You couldn’t disappoint…” Nico’s voice trails off into a mumble like he’s disassociated from the conversation, Lewis is confused. “Hey, I should leave you to it. I’ll be watching from your garage tomorrow.” That kind of ends the conversation, Lewis doesn’t add anything and Nico heads off to speak to his former team of engineers from his own successful GP2 winning season.

Lewis hops into the car for the practice session and spends all of his time after with his engineer, pouring over data and strategy, possible setups. Everything he needs to go over before the qualifying session. He clears the rest of the grid, sets a new record time. He spots his father, a proud smile on his face. Lewis completes any minor media duties that’s been forced on him with the pole position. He then heads back to his room, once again pouring over data. 

True to his word, Lewis wins spectacularly on Saturday. In front of Nico, Keke, his dad. He celebrates with his team, Monaco is a special place to win. Timo comes 11th, congratulates him before heading to his garage. Fred and Keke approach him after the champagne spray, offering for him to stay in Monaco for the F1 race. 

There is no hesitation in his answer.

Dinner with the Rosbergs later is jovial, Lewis hasn’t had fun like this in a long time. Maybe it’s because he hasn't sat with his family like this for a long time. Maybe it’s because he has missed being around Nico. It gets later than they anticipated so Anthony heads back to the hotel, flight early in the morning - whilst Keke and Sina stay up for a while longer until they decide it’s time to head off too. Lewis and Nico decide to catch up in their living room.

Nico talks for hours about what’s going on in his life. His time in Williams, about all the countries he’s travelled to, about Vivian. His eyes brighten ever so slightly when he starts talking about ‘Vivi’ and Lewis has to force a smile at this. He’s not met this woman, doesn’t find it in himself to care – but for Nico, he supposes he’ll listen.

Soon enough, Lewis can feel his eyes slipping shut, feels like he’s sinking into the sofa when he nods off. Nico has completely forgotten that Lewis had a race today and is still rambling when he feels Lewis’ head hit his shoulder with a soft thump. He thinks little of it, since they were teenagers they’ve shared the same hotel rooms and, on occasion the same bed. He doesn’t want Lewis to wake up with a crick in his neck so he moves Lewis into a position where he can lift him, almost bridal style, to his bedroom. Lewis is usually a light sleeper, but with the events of today, he assumes everything’s been taken out of him and so he’s pliable enough that he’s able to lay him down on the bed gently. 

Nico knows. He knows that he loves Lewis a lot, he cherishes the relationship they have. He adores Lewis in a way that not many people would understand. He can be himself, with Lewis. Of course, there’s Vivi – but this is Lewis. He admires the fact Lewis is inexplicably himself, whereas Nico feels like he has to abide by certain stereotypes to keep his father happy. He adores Lewis’ gap-tooth smile whenever it’s thrown his way. He watches over Lewis, curled on top of his bedsheets and feels something warm linger in his chest.

They’ve always been close since Nico ran into Lewis when they were 13. If he could go back to that day, he would make sure to run into Lewis all over again, just to ensure he has him in his life for as long as he can. 

He knows that he loves Lewis a lot. Nico casts his eye over Lewis again and lays next to him, pulling the covers over him. He listens to Lewis’ soft breaths as he sleeps undisturbed next to him. Lewis is warm, incredibly warm, and Nico feels his head getting heavy as he wraps himself around the most important person to him.

(Nico, unlike Lewis’ dominant drive along the Circuit de Monaco a week previously, had to retire because of a throttle issue during lap 51. Lewis had been watching intently from a balcony overlooking the circuit.)

Lewis has just finished the GP2 season at the top of the table, he gets the opportunity to drive the McLaren in an official F1 test at Silverstone. A few days later he’s sat in the McLaren Headquarters, Ron Dennis leading him into his office. Lewis is understandably worried, thinking this is him about to be told ‘No, we haven’t got a seat for you, you need to look at other options.’

Instead, Lewis sits down and Ron silently hands over a document. It’s a driver's contract, for 2007. With McLaren. Lewis is shocked, jaw drops as he looks up to Ron.

“We wouldn’t announce it immediately, especially with Michael’s retirement announcement coming out. The Media team agrees that giving it a few weeks would be good as a result. This, currently, is only between the higher-ups, your management team and me. If you can keep this in-house, Lewis, that would be wonderful.” Ron says, sitting down expectantly in front of Lewis.

He knows he’s not going to get a better offer than McLaren in Formula 1, his destined future sits in front on pristine white paper.

Lewis is 21 when he signs for McLaren F1. 

He thinks of Nico, when he told him he’d be signing on for Williams, about when he kept his GP2 seat from him. He knows he can’t keep this from him.

The first thing he does, once he’s out of the building and out into the cool, end-of-summer lingering in the air, is call Nico. He stands, for about a minute, waiting for Nico to pick up.

He doesn’t. 

Lewis doesn’t think about it, drives home, celebrates with his family. He is going to make his dream come true. 

He ignores his phone.

Nico doesn’t call.

It’s not until long into the next day, whilst Lewis is out on a run when his phone rings. It’s Nico. He gasps a few deep breaths before answering, but he still sounds breathy when he speaks, “Oh hey, Nico. How are you doing?”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Nico questions, an excited intonation inflected in his voice. It throws Lewis, slightly, he doesn’t expect it.

“Uh, no not at all. I was just out for a run. What’s up?”

And so Lewis is walking back home whilst Nico is telling him all about him and Vivian. Lewis finally met her during the week of the Monaco Grand Prix.

(“Look, Lewis.” Nico says, pointing over to a distant blonde woman. She looks lost, in the paddock. He recognises her from the restaurant the week prior and soon Nico is dragging him over to meet Vivian. 

It takes a few hours before Vivian quickly worms her way into Lewis’ affections. He had originally wanted to keep a distance but she was incredibly sweet and polite, and he couldn’t help but like her.)

He’s telling him about how Vivi is basically everything he would’ve wanted in a girlfriend. It’s been a short time since they’ve been officially dating, and Lewis feels happy for him. He deserves to be happy.

In the romantic scene, he and Nico couldn’t be any different. Nico had a solid relationship with Vivian, there was no one before her. Lewis, on the other hand, had jumped from person to person and didn't want to have to deal with commitment issues. But there was something else preventing him from wanting a long-term relationship. Something no one else knew, something no one could know. Lewis knew his eyes lingered on men just as long as they did women, he had experimented long before anyone would catch onto the possibility that Lewis Hamilton, a racing driver, was bisexual.

So when it came to it, this really wasn’t either Lewis or Nico’s strong point.

“Vivi- she’s perfect, in every way, Lew,” Nico says, breaking Lewis out of his trance. He blinks, “Oh?”

“She’s just… there’s something there.”

Lewis turns a corner, shrugging to himself and forgets Nico can’t see him in person, “yeah, you’re good together,” he says, pushing back whatever that feeling is bubbling under his skin.

He pulls onto his road when Nico brings up Lewis’ missed phone call from yesterday, “Oh, yesterday… Sorry I missed your phone call, I was out with Vivi. Was there something you needed?”

Whilst he’s desperate to tell Nico about his McLaren contract, he doesn’t feel like telling Nico now after his ramble about Vivian, “I uh- you know what? It wasn’t all that important.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, hey- look, I’m just getting back to my house, can I call you later?”

“Oh uh- that’s good with me. Speak to you soon, Lewis.” Nico says cordially, the dulled edge to his voice a sharp contrast to his joyful tone earlier in the call. Lewis can’t quite catch what emotion is laced with Nico’s parting words.

“Hope to see you soon, Nico.” He concludes fondly and puts the phone down.

He heaves a few breaths before he goes through the front door, immediately missing Nico’s voice and shame fills him when he thinks about his McLaren contract, Nico deserves to know.

Hundreds of miles away, Nico Rosberg is sitting staring at his phone, questioning whether or not everything he’s just told Lewis about his and Vivi’s relationship is something he believes in. Wonders whether or not Vivian is the right person for him, because whenever he shuts his eyes all he can picture is Lewis’ face.

Lewis is 23 when Nico drunkenly kisses him. 

Lewis had hit the ground running in 2007, coming second in the WDC standings. Nico couldn’t have been prouder for his friend, he had been one point off of making history as the first rookie to win the championship. He was the first rookie to win in his first season, spectacularly winning in Canada.

“Rosberg really driving well - Hamilton’s brought Nico Rosberg alive, hasn’t he? There’s no doubt about it, Nico’s a different man this year.”

The McLaren was good in 2007, if not better in 2008. Lewis is better than the rest in testing - then in the opening race of the season. Nico lands himself on the final step of the podium. They became the talk of the paddock, childhood friends sharing a podium. 

It’s only right that the two go and celebrate their shared podium for the night. Heidfeld joins them, as do a few other drivers and engineers. Amidst the Australian nightlife, everyone has lost each other. Lewis can feel the base through his bones, the alcohol makes his vision slightly fuzzy. Yes, maybe they had a little too much to drink but they were allowed to be a little bit wild tonight, he thinks. 

They were partying on the dance floor when Lewis spotted some people that he recognised from the paddock, most are unfamiliar faces, however. He spots Glock at the bar, pushes his way over to him. They chat for a while until Glock slaps him on the shoulder and leaves, Lewis thinks nothing of it until Nico is dragging him away towards the toilets. He knows Nico tends to become overly affectionate or loud when he’s drunk, but when Nico suddenly pushes him against the wall in a small darkened area of the nightclub and brushes his lips over Lewis’ own, it’s not exactly something he expects. Lewis doesn’t register what is happening at first, but then he thinks of Vivian and tries to push Nico away. He stumbles back and Lewis has to steady him.

“Nico, Nico-”

“Lewis, please I just-” He rambles, the alcohol slurring his speech and his movements as he throws himself onto Lewis again, head tucked into Lewis’ neck.

“I want you.” He breathes, and if Lewis hadn't been focusing so much attention on his best friend then he would’ve missed those words with the loud base pulsing through the club. Lewis feels himself flush (he blames the alcohol), mind wiping blank at what Nico has said - knows he needs to get Nico out of here before he does anything else stupid.

They’re able to make it into the taxi and back to the hotel without any incidents, and Lewis practically has to drag Nico to his hotel room. Once they get there, Nico with the brute force a drunk man should not possess grabs him by the wrist and tugs him into his room.

He stands there, not knowing what to do. The alcohol affects his judgement, he watches Nico, the way his chest lifts and falls. He eyes the way his crystalline blue eyes have darkened to chips of sapphire. Lewis’ throat goes dry at the look on Nico’s face, Lewis approaches him in an effort to try and get him to bed but Nico is having none of it.

“Lew, will you stay with me tonight?” Nico whined, and it’s like facing 15-year-old Nico all over again. 

Lewis is helpless with the way Nico looks at him, “will you go to bed if I stay?” He asks, and Nico shakes his head impatiently. So Lewis tugs off his shirt (thank you insane Australian weather) and slides on top of the covers next to Nico who has haphazardly flung himself onto the bed. He knows this is dangerous, with how Nico was acting in the club but he does it anyway. After seeing Nico slowly lull away, Lewis rolls over and tries to let the night take him away - it’s difficult, following Nico’s antics tonight and Lewis lies to himself, that maybe he would be best off leaving Nico here and heading back to his own room.

“I love you, Lew,” Nico mumbles, voice gentle.

“Thought you were asleep,” Lewis whispers.

His voice is muffled when he next talks, “Hmm, wasn’t- trying to, though.” He twists, trying to find Lewis when his hand grasps his arm and pulls himself closer to Lewis. If he was a stronger man, Lewis would’ve tried to push him away, but his mind is still half-addled with alcohol and they’re in a private space - no worries of making it to the press. Therefore, Lewis naturally sinks into Nico’s embrace, closes his eyes. He savours the moment and imprints it on his mind. 

Nico’s breathing deeply when Lewis breathes out softly, “I love you, too” almost as if he says it any louder he’ll wake the man on top of him. He smiles to himself and brings Nico a little closer to himself. 

He groggily acknowledges his phone ringing in the distance, head pounding. Lewis blindly reaches out to his side to pick up the phone. 

“Hello?” He tries to sit up but he can’t, a deadweight on top of him affecting his movement.

“Thought I’d ring to congratulate you on the win,” American accent flowing through the speaker of the phone. Lewis smiles to himself.

“Oh- thanks, Nic. How is everything?” He asks. Just as she’s replying he looks down and sees blonde tufts of hair. Lewis’ breath leaves him until he realises it’s just Nico clinging onto him like a koala bear.

They speak for a short while until she has to leave for some media commitment, passing quick ‘I love you’s’ before they put the phone down.

“Who’s that?” Nico asks, voice stripped from the partying last night.

“It was Nicole, she called to congratulate me for the win yesterday,” Lewis responds, hand running through Nico’s hair in an approach to get him to shift off of him so he can get in the shower. It works and Lewis is slipping into the bathroom quickly.

“Want me to leave it on for you?”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks, Lewis.”

It's when he's in the shower that the memories of what happened last night make themselves known to Lewis. He remembers the way Nico grabbed his arm, the way his lips slotted perfectly against his own softly. 

He panics. Lewis was so sure, in his relationship with Nicole. He knows, there’s always been a nagging feeling when it came to Nico, ignoring it for as long as he can because it’s Nico. His best friend. Lewis’ head feels heavy, running the shower cold. His chest feels like it’s being crushed, he feels like he’s dying.

He thinks about them when they were just 15, head filled with dreams about World Championships and conquering the sport. His heart twinges when he thinks about Nico, about them. It would be impossible, in their position, to be anything more than friends and Lewis accepts that - he can’t see a future where Nico isn’t present because even thinking about it hurts. He thinks that it would hurt more than losing any title, losing Nico. He doesn’t know if Nico remembers last night, he can only hope Nico doesn’t.

Coldness settles under his skin thinking about it and he feels incredibly nauseated. Their relationship is one of the most solid, consistent things in his life. He could always rely on Nico for anything. If he needed advice and couldn’t go to Nicole or his father, he went to Nico. He can’t talk to any of them about this drunken kiss. That’s all it should be, but it’s more than that to him and he can’t figure out why. 

He doesn’t know why he can’t let this go. All it is and all it should be is a drunken kiss. When it all clicks, Lewis feels bile rise in the back of his throat.

He’s 23 years old, when he realises that he’s in love with his best friend of 10 years.

Then, he thinks about all the times when he couldn’t place an emotion when Nico raved to him about his relationship with Vivian. The sinking feeling he had about losing his best friend was jealousy, jealousy that someone else had Nico, but he repressed that feeling. Every time that Lewis has told Nicole that he loves her, the way it feels as if he’s forcing it out because that is what was expected of him. 

It makes sense to him.

He thinks about all the stereotypes of when you realise that you’ve fallen in love, realising none of it is true. There’s no high dramatics. It’s just him standing in the shower, water cascading down his back as he lets the information sit, not wanting to do anything with it. Cannot. He cannot do anything about this revelation of his. 

Race weekends pass and Lewis thinks about that night in Melbourne over and over, obsessively to the point where it’s concerning. He left the bathroom that day to see Nico’s face smushed against his pillow, soft snores emanating from him. Lewis, like a coward, sneaks out of Nico’s hotel room.

He’s 23, he’s in love with his best friend and knows that it’s destined to become nothing more than that.

They’re 26.

Lewis isn’t quite sure when, or even how, Seb realises Lewis isn’t straight, but somewhere along the lines the two of them broker an agreement during the time that Seb is winning in F1. 

He and Nicole are on a break, he’s accepted his feelings about Nico and the impossibility of reciprocation. Seb needs to blow off steam and Lewis needs a good fuck so they agree to the no strings attached arrangement during the season. Lewis knows quite early on that this isn’t going to be his title, he stays competitive enough sure, but Seb is running away with it this year.

It’s in Spain when he thinks Nico is suspicious of his relationship with the other German. They had an incredibly good race, Seb and Lewis, battling it out to the end with only 6 tenths between them as they crossed the line. They privately celebrate together in Lewis’ trailer - they’re both incredibly fucked out, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Seb was having a party for his P1 finish then Lewis would’ve offered for him to stay a while longer. Alas, they cannot, so they clean up and part ways. Lewis eyes the curve of Seb’s pale neck, where he's left a purpling mark just above his collarbone and the way his lips are glossy and stained ruby red. Seb smirks because he knows that Lewis is staring, tempted to let him continue staring if it wasn’t for the fact he needed to get going.

They part ways with a promise floating in the air of continuing this in Monaco and Lewis watches him swagger out of the trailer with a limp to his step. He feels dirty and decides to get a quick shower.

Lewis is about three seconds away from stepping into the shower when he hears a quiet knock on his trailer door. It sounds hesitant, he knows it isn’t Seb - thinks it might be Jenson, that he’s forgotten some sort of team commitment and Jenson has come to get him.

He doesn’t expect it to be Nico.

Nico’s skittish, eyes darting everywhere and ignoring Lewis. He notes that yes he is just standing there in a towel but Nico has seen that before, so he must’ve seen Seb leaving his trailer with a flushed face and cocky grin. 

Awkward tension filled the air as Nico resisted the urge to look Lewis in the eyes, it’s clear to Lewis that Nico has an inkling as to what has just occurred in Lewis’ trailer and he’s only so thankful that he had enough time to clean up after himself before Nico appeared.

“Hey, oh- are you busy right now?” Nico questions. He can hear the shower going and Lewis is only wrapped up in the towel.

“Nah man, was just hopping into the shower. Do you want to come in?”

“No, I can't. I’ve got my driver briefing in ten. I just came by to say congrats on the P2,” He says, forced smile and eyes dull blue. 

Nico feels the sense of jealousy rear its ugly head, seeing Sebastian all blissed out walking through the paddock and the way Lewis’ body is lacking the usual tension it does when he doesn’t win the race. He wonders where Nicole is, he knows that Lewis isn’t the type of person to cheat.

“Oh, thanks! Sorry that you only got P8, it sucks that you’re not higher up the pack.”

“Yeah, I suppose. I uh- really need to get going, see you in Monaco,” Nico rushes and for some reason, he feels embarrassment as he leaves.

Lewis knows he needs to tell Nico soon, he just wishes that he didn’t have the heads up from seeing Seb leave his trailer.

They’re 26, when Lewis makes his way forcefully into Nico’s room, panic and despair written all over his face. Nico knows he and Nicole have been on the downsides recently, Lewis even admitting to him about the possibility of them going their own ways. The way he throws himself onto Nico’s bed, Nico already knows what Lewis is about to say. 

“I have something to tell you.” He states, a miserable tone to his voice. He needs Nico, right at that moment. It’s been common for Lewis to come to Nico when he needs advice, they’ve not been best friends for 12 years for nothing. Nico pads over, sits shoulder-to-shoulder with Lewis, patiently waiting for him to state the obvious. Lewis shakes his head gently, a forced laugh escaping his lips, “We broke up.” Nico looks up at him, sees the rare flicker of sadness wash over him - he reaches a comforting hand out and Lewis takes it. It’s the closest form of intimacy that Nico thinks Lewis wants right now, so he rakes his thumb over his knuckles, breathes out his apology and just watches Lewis. 

“I mean- I know, we had our issues over the past few months, and I still love her. I do- I really do, but it just felt right to stop and catch our breath for the moment. I didn’t- She thought, she thought there was someone else.” Lewis spits out, and Nico is shocked into silence. Nico knows Lewis better than Nico knows himself and for Nicole to think such a thing is preposterous.

“She thinks there’s someone else. But there isn’t, Nico, I swear.” Lewis rambles, face paler in a way that Nico has never seen. He’s seen Lewis face countless things across the time in which they’ve known each other, but Nico hasn’t ever quite seen Lewis look so scared. “I know- I know you, Lewis.” He says, entwining their fingers together, Nico focuses on the contrast of their skin, the way Lewis’ hand sits perfectly in his and his breath hitches. He feels Lewis’ head fall on his shoulder, he sucks in a breath and Nico feels as though he hasn’t been given all of the information at hand.

He jostles his shoulder lightly, to garner Lewis’ attention but he doesn’t react. He tries again. “Lew-“ the childhood nickname falls out, “What else is there?”

Lewis lets a hot, shaky breath hit Nico’s shoulder. 

“Promise me, Nico- promise me you won’t hate me.”

Nico remembers, distinctly, a conversation that fell along those same lines, but he already knows this isn’t going to have anything to do with racing, and he feels genuine worry at what Lewis is yet to say. He nods, solemnly swears “I promise.” 

“I’m bi.” He mutters.

Nico, however, doesn’t quite register just exactly what Lewis said. “What did you- what?” He lets out, voice not quite carrying the way it should.

“I’m bisexual, Nico,” Lewis says a bit firmer, making sure Nico hears it. Nico’s mind shuts down, all he can think about is the man sitting next to him, trusting him with this information. His career could be over if it got out, everyone has seen the reaction footballers get when they come out. 

Suddenly, a memory from a few months back that he had repressed to the back of his mind resurfaces. He had been heading to Lewis’ trailer to congratulate him for his P2 in the Spanish Grand Prix when Sebastian had strutted out, face flushed and cap pulled low. He remembers seeing Lewis, bitten lips and his eyes brighter than they were when he was showering Sebastian Vettel with champagne. He remembers the nauseous feeling of jealousy thrumming through his veins. 

Nico tries to fight through the fog of a night long forgotten in Australia, annoyed that all he could remember of that night was waking up curled tightly over Lewis’ bare chest, lips pressed against his neck. He knows something happened that night but Lewis doesn’t, and for both of their sakes, it’s best if it stays that way.

Because he knows telling Lewis something like that won’t change anything, and he’s happy - genuinely happy - that Lewis trusts him enough to be willing to share this news with him.

“I’m proud of you, Lew.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Never.”

They’re 26, when Lewis reveals to Nico that he’s bisexual. 

They’re 26 when Nico’s entire world feels like it’s falling apart.

Chapter Text

It’s 2012, and there’s something in the air at Brackley.

Nico can feel it when he’s walking through the reception; it’s a heavy and thick feeling that has Nico pulling at his collar like it’s suffocating him. He tries to blame it on the stifling British weather, but something is telling him there’s more to it.

When Nico gets called into Ross’ office, he knows something is up.

That feeling only increases when he passes Michael in the corridor. It’s rare that these types of one-on-one meetings happen; he senses a shift in the air. He’s tense as he sits in the uncomfortable leather chairs of Brawn’s office, fighting the urge to pick at the handle of the seat.

“Would you be in favour of the team signing Lewis for 2013?” Brawn exclaims.

“Hamilton?”

“Do you know of any other Lewis’ on the grid? Yes, Hamilton.” He sarcastically retorts, and Nico sinks into his seat.

He feels the ropes of an age-old memory pull on his mind.

Greece, warm sand under his fingers, while Lewis’ fingers trailed between his shoulder blades teasingly.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if we were in our own Formula 1 team, fighting for the titles together?"

Nico can’t quite believe their dream could come true.

"Yes, yes, I would be in favour.” He states strongly, jutting his chin up confidently to Ross. His previous apprehension of coming here evaporates, he’s looking to the future.

Three weeks later, he’s reading the announcement that Lewis Hamilton will be a Mercedes driver for 2013 and beyond.

Nico thinks this is everything that it should be. It just feels right. Knowing that Lewis is going to be his teammate overshadows Michael’s retirement for him. Seeing Lewis walk into Brackley makes Nico feel complete; they’re just steps away from accomplishing a childhood dream.

“McLaren to Mercedes, huh?” He says when Lewis spots him. Brawn is eyeing them like a hawk, his glare intense enough that a shiver rolls down his spine.

“It was time for a change.” Lewis winks confidently at him, it has him shaking his head.

Only an idiot would trade McLaren for Mercedes. McLaren, the team that had given Lewis a car to fight for and win a title.

“To the team that finished fifth last season?”

“I’m confident, Nico. You should be too.”

Nico’s annoyed. Lewis can’t tell if his annoyance extends to the lingering break between him and Vivian, but he brushes it off. Lewis can see that just by reading the way Nico grips his water bottle a little too tight, the purse of his lips. It’s wholly based on the race result, and Lewis can’t help but be annoyed on his behalf, even though he doesn't understand why the team asked Nico to hold position when he was clearly quicker than Lewis.

If anyone notices the disappointment radiating off Nico during the debrief, no one dares bring it up.

Nico disappears the moment one of the engineers finishes up his debrief, and by the time Lewis makes it back to their hotel, he has to pester the receptionist to give up a spare keycard to Nico’s hotel room.

Nico doesn’t even hear his hotel door go; he doesn’t even acknowledge someone is in his room until his bed shifts and Lewis’ quiet voice is in his ear, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

He sighs, “I’m not mad at you. I can’t lie, though, I am frustrated with the team. It could’ve been my podium.”

Tentative arms wrap around his upper body as Lewis’ chin drops to his shoulder, “I know, it should’ve been. Are you okay?”

Nico tilts his head slightly, and Lewis can barely spot the edge of his lips pulling up.

“Yeah, Lew, I’ll be fine.” Nico’s hand reaches up to grasp Lewis’ forearm to trace his thumb over the tattoos that adorn the skin there comfortingly. He remembers when Lewis got them done, showing them off proudly to him. Nico wonders if Lewis would ever get a tattoo dedicated to him.

They lounge in the delicate silence briefly, Nico wrapped up in Lewis’ arms as Lewis’ front presses against Nico’s back. It’s comforting, he finds, the way they slot together. Nico feels a little more at peace with the way Lewis’ breaths hit his shoulder gently.

Nico disturbs the tranquillity of the moment, “You know you’re my best friend, Lew?”

Lewis hums against his shoulder and presses his lips against the cotton of Nico’s shirt. He wonders how Lewis’ lips would feel against his bare skin now, or what he would do to see Lewis pressed underneath him. Nico blinks harshly, unbidden thoughts making themselves known.

It almost doesn’t feel wrong to think of them together like this. He feels the heavy weight of shame settle over him.

Lewis smiles against his shirt, “I know. You’re very important to me, Nico.” The warm words are stifled against Nico’s shoulder, and Lewis murmurs the words in such a way that they imply much more than he’s able to give.

Nico’s okay with that. He knows that he should be more upset about Vivian. Maybe it’s selfish of him to expect he could have Lewis and Vivian, maybe it would be harsh on them all. He doesn’t know, he’s never experienced this before.

The frigid air of the night seeps into Nico’s hotel room, causing him to shiver lightly. Lewis’ grip tightens subtly to provide more warmth.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“As long as you don’t kick me in your sleep.”

When Nico wakes up the next day, he feels like he should’ve expected the cold emptiness of the bed where the scent of Lewis' cologne lingered.

Nico finds that doing media commitments with Lewis is easier than it was with Michael. Lewis is easy-going and familiar territory to him, unlike the 7-time World Champion. Lewis means that Nico doesn’t feel like he’s constantly on edge; he’s much more relaxed, not on his guard as much.

Maybe that’s why he’s beginning to notice that he stares more at Lewis when he’s speaking, forgets about the cameras and the interviewer. His eyes linger a little too long on the curve of Lewis’ lips, and it becomes even more difficult to focus on the questions the interviewer is asking.

He’s mesmerised by him, and Nico senses that he should really start paying more attention to his surroundings. He’s stunned watching the lovesick look decorate his face whenever Lewis speaks during the Petronas filming.

The way his eyes soften every time Lewis looks at him on camera has his hands trembling slightly. He’d love to just email back and ask to scrap their entire segment.

During their interview, Nico glanced over to Lewis when she asked, “If you were a superhero, what would your superpower be?”

He’s thinking of his answer when Lewis blurts out, "Or, uh- laser vision. I wanna be able to see through things.”

Lewis looks at him as he says it, the way his eyes are baring into him as if he’s speaking to him instead of the interviewer… It has Nico flustering, averting his gaze from Lewis because his stare is making his breath hitch.

In a split second, he’s slamming the laptop shut. He slowly processes the feeling of how his breath is stuttering out of his lungs. Nico knows what his answer to the question was: "I’ll be invisible." If only that would prevent the yearning feeling in his chest whenever Lewis looks at him in a way that makes his knees weak.

Sometimes, he thinks that Lewis means a little bit more to him than a ‘friend’ would. He knows he catches himself staring, his mind going blank during interviews when Lewis flashes a smile his way. He tries to make sense of it - the way he is irrevocably drawn to Lewis or how the swirling thoughts he has of Lewis that occupy his mind rage like a hurricane. He can’t keep pretending to himself.

Lewis is his best friend; why is he so conflicted about him? Nico downplays his reactions and convinces himself it’s nothing. They’re good friends, those within Mercedes will be happy to see their chemistry and how well they work together; he’s overreacting. He’s just being dramatic.

It’s in 2014 when cracks begin to form in their relationship.

Nico has always been stubborn. Lewis loved the stubbornness, but when it’s directed towards him, it agitates him. Nico pulling his trick in qualifying had made him realise that fighting for the championship together wasn’t as dreamy as once thought.

Nico clears the rest of the grid on Sunday, and Lewis tastes the bitterness on his tongue.

"Well, we're not friends."

It had been Toto who had suggested it, even if it 'wasn’t necessary' he said, “you should do it to cool tensions, Nico."

Vivian concurred, she even left for the night to go out with her friends to give them a slight bit of privacy.

Apologies don’t come lightly to him, but Nico feels as though he has to this time around.

And so he finds himself in his kitchen, staring at the first-place trophy on his countertop when he hears the door go, tentative steps approaching the kitchen.

He turns to face Lewis, “Hey.”

“Hi.” It’s so quiet that Nico is almost convinced he’s imagined it.

“I’m sorry.”

It takes only a brief glance at Lewis to know that he doesn’t believe Nico. He feels Lewis ebbing away from him like calm waves, “Are you?”

“Yes.” No.

"So, why did you do it?”

“I just wanted to win.” I wanted to beat you.

Lewis can’t help but huff out a laugh, his eyes crinkling in a smile that Nico misses.

“Yeah, I know. It’s good to know you feel bad about it, I’ll beat you next time.”

He chuckled softly and said, “I’ve missed you.”

There was no malice behind the scoff Lewis sent his way.

"Well, we’re not friends."

“Lewis, did you mean it?"

“Mean what?”

“What you said to the media... about us not being friends?”

He starts tugging at his hair anxiously when the silence drags longer than Nico anticipated.

“Do you not think it would be better to separate our friendship from work?”

It’s not the answer he wanted, but it’s the answer he’s going to have to settle for.

They end up sitting out on Nico’s balcony for a bit, talking about life and all of the things they’ve neglected to tell each other. Lewis tells him more about his ventures into fashion, about Nicole and how they’re doing. He tells Lewis that he wants to marry Vivian soon, and promises he can be the best man.

They drink and just let themselves be free for a moment, the obligations to racing and the competition forgotten for the moment. Nico feels a weight lifted off of his shoulders whilst he’s sat with Lewis, laughing incredibly obnoxiously at whatever he says and the way he dramatically waves his arms around.

He knows it won’t last long, with the fight for the championship ramping up. Nico feels a sense of foreboding fall over him, it makes him feel sick. He wants to sit in this moment for as long as they can, looking over at his best friend with the sun setting. He admires the way the sun glistens on Lewis’ skin and feels a swell of warmth in his chest.

He blames it on the alcohol.

Nico marries Vivian a month later and doesn’t invite Lewis, because he knows deep in his heart that if he saw Lewis at any point during his wedding day, he would’ve called it all off there and then. Nico suppresses those feelings and enjoys the bliss of married life. He tries not to think of Lewis.

Nico doesn’t see Lewis at all during the summer break, nor does he speak to him at all. He does, however, see the headlines and the photos of Lewis and Nicole looking happy and dazed on sunset beaches and gondolas. Lewis looks genuinely happy and without a care, and Nico misses a time when that would’ve been them together. There have been many times where he’s fought the urge to message Lewis at random times of the day, held back by the fact that he should probably wait until they return from the summer break.

By the time they return to Formula 1, Nico is married and focusing on the championship. He is determined to win it and to be the best on the grid. It starts well; he lands himself in pole position for the race.

He finishes second, and maintains his lead in the standings.

He braves the boos of the Belgian crowd as a consequence of hitting Lewis and sending him out of the race.

“He’s hit me. Nico’s hit me."

It repeats in his head like a record, but he doesn’t feel any regret when he's standing there on the podium. He doesn’t feel anything when he’s getting interviewed, being told that the “experts see it as 'inexperienced'; what do you think?” Even if everyone thinks it was his fault, he stands firm.

It isn’t until he enters the meeting room for debrief, that he feels a twinge of regret. Lewis’ eyes are talking his emotions to him, anger and fury burning in his dark eyes. Toto’s face is pinched, his frown pulled low in disappointment, while Niki’s fingers are thrumming heavily on the table. Bono is shuffling his papers dramatically, refusing to look at Nico. It’s a dangerous atmosphere, and Nico knows it’s his fault.

In their meeting, days later, he accepts the blame for the incident, he’s had a few days to watch it back. He realises that this won’t be an easy fix like Monaco - he knows that Monaco sits uneasily across the team and Lewis, even if he accepted his half-arsed apology in Nico’s kitchen.

Lewis pays little attention to him in the next few weeks. Nico feels his heart shatter at the distance between the two of them. It hurts a lot, and it’s just enough that Toto acknowledges the distance between the two and raises a questioning brow to Nico and Lewis when the other isn’t paying attention.

They’re made to do some sponsor events together, and Nico wonders if anyone has picked up on it. He pretends as if he’s not walking on eggshells every time he speaks to Lewis, tries to act like they’re good in front of the media and the fans. He feels Lewis slipping away from him like sand slipping through his fingers. He finds himself up at night when it isn’t a race weekend, flicking through old memories of the two of them. When he asks his father for the old karting videos of the two of them, Keke doesn’t ask why but has a pained look in his eye. He spends nights rewatching the videos, nostalgia thick in the air. He knows that Vivian is pretending not to notice when he slips out of bed at late times during the night.

It’s in Russia, when Mercedes is on the verge of winning the Constructors title, that everything seemingly gets easier for the two of them. Tensions aren’t as high, the team is preparing to celebrate its first WCC. Nico feels a little less nauseous the closer he and Lewis become across the week.

He feels his eye twitch when he walks into the garage to see Nicole and Lewis hanging off of each other, he thinks that it’s because he misses Vivian. Vivian, who is thousands of miles away in Monaco. Nicole smiles in a welcoming manner at him, and he forces a smile back, a heavy pit forming in his stomach. With the current atmosphere in Mercedes, Nico had been hoping to catch Lewis before any media commitments. It matters little; he just wanted to spend time with him.

The next time he wants to go and see Lewis, Sebastian has put him up to it. Again, he finds Lewis with Nicole. He briefly wonders if Sebastian knew this before he sent him to get Lewis, and then he thinks about whether this is what it was like when they were younger—the fact that Lewis was never far away from Nico.

He knocks on Lewis’ hotel room, and he only enters when he gets the approving call to do so. He’s sitting on the sofa, laughing at something Nicole has said; meanwhile, Nicole is lounging on the edge of the bed, and Nico feels a bit awkward looking at the two.

"Oh, uh- I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He asks, feeling quite out of place.

“Hey, Nico,” Nicole answers, her voice airy, grabbing her phone to scroll mindlessly.

“What’s up?” Lewis asks, and Nico moves to lean against the wall.

“Sebastian wanted to know if you'd join us and Daniel for dinner tonight?” He looks over at Lewis, and he already knows he’ll say no so he can spend more time with Nicole.

The look Lewis pulls just confirms what he was thinking. "I was wondering why you looked nice! I would join, but I promised my mum I’d call her later. Pass on my apologies to Seb and Daniel, will you?"

Nico looks shocked by the compliment, even more so when Nicole says, “Oh, you do look good, Nico! Going somewhere nice?"

He knows that she doesn’t care, so Nico isn’t going to bother wasting breath on an answer.

“I’ve got no idea where we’re going, I just finished up with a sponsor event.” He says more to Lewis than to Nicole.

“Was it good?” Lewis questions, looking over to see Nicole actually paying attention to Nico for once.

“Not at all, I was staring at the wall for about 45 minutes. What a waste of time.” Nico laughs, "Well, that’s me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lewis."

"Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Lewis says, watching Nico leave.

It’s kind of unfortunate for Lewis that Nico doesn’t like Nicole, not like he knows this.

He can’t explain why he doesn’t like her. She’s nice enough, pretty, and makes Lewis happy, so Nico doesn’t understand why he just can’t stand her in his presence. When Lewis wins the 2014 Championship at Nico’s expense, he’s congratulating Anthony and Carmen when Nicole approaches him, offering her commiserations for his loss. He can tell she’s not really being genuine, but he accepts it anyway to shorten the time that he has to spend with her.

It’s late when Toto finds him. He's sat lingering in the paddock long after most people have left to celebrate Lewis’ second title. He’s surprised that Toto hasn't followed the rest of them out to party away the night with the team.

“You look happy,” he quips. Nico huffs, watching him sit down next to him to relish in the momentary silence of the paddock. So much for a moment of peace and quiet.

“Your time will come soon."

Nico hums absentmindedly, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. He rests his head back on the wall, letting out a deep breath when Toto catches him off-guard.

“You don’t like her, do you?”

“Who?"

“Nicole.”

“I don’t mind her. She’s nice.”

“Nice enough that you shifted away from her during the team photograph?”

“She was a bit too close for my liking.” He lies, but not convincingly enough because Toto raises a brow.

“Ok, maybe I don’t like her at all."

“That’s not surprising.”

Nico’s hackles rise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Toto picks up on Nico’s defensive tone, “You have conflicting personalities, that’s all. I’m surprised Lewis hasn’t picked up on it earlier, with how close you two are.”

He looks into Toto’s eyes and senses there’s something else he wants to say, but whatever it is he keeps it to himself. He’s tempted to push him on it; see what else he wants to add. Instead, with nothing else left to say, they both head back to the hotel.

It’s when he's in his hotel room, enjoying the peacefulness of it all, that it curdles into something else—his mind wanders back to the topic Toto brought up earlier of Lewis and Nicole together, and he begins to feel himself slip into a sense of envy. Nico tries to explain why he’s feeling like this and why he’s so caught up with Nicole and Lewis. He thinks back on all the times when he felt something like this when it came to Lewis. 2006, when he saw Lewis and Glock together and the way his stomach twisted painfully, or when he spotted Sebastian leaving Lewis’ trailer.

It’s only when he thinks about his wedding day—how he couldn’t find it in himself to invite Lewis, that it rises to the surface like some sickly nightmare. The answer is within arm’s reach, but Nico refuses to believe it to be true.

The way Toto was asking about how he felt about Nicole or how he was so hung up about him and Lewis following Spa Nico’s always been a bit slow with feelings, but this has to be some awful reality that he’s transferred to.

Nico remembers the whispers from when they were young; it’s like they’re scratching at the walls of his mind now. He’s connecting all the dots now, like he’s solving an age-old cold case. His breath quickens and his vision blurs; he’s panicking. He finds himself reaching for his phone, but he can’t call the one person he needs to.

He tries to distract himself with something other than the thought of Lewis until his phone pings.

Lewis

hey, me and the team are down at the hotel bar having a small meal if u want to join? 

Nico

Think I’ll sit this out. Sorry, I'm just a bit too tired.

Lewis

oh, ok then. see you in the morning?

Nico

Yeah, I’ll see you then.

Nico

Congrats, Lew x

He shuts his phone off, pending a response from Lewis, and slips into bed. Nico curls into himself, the ache behind his eyes increasing as he tries to omit Lewis from his memory.

He doesn’t sleep well that night. 

"It's just now interesting to hear from you, Lewis, that you were just thinking about yourself with the pace in front, and necessarily that was compromising my race.”

Nico felt the stress of the past year pent up inside of him, bursting at the seams, slowly losing patience with his and Lewis’ mind games. He ran out of the conference room as quickly as he arrived, refusing to speak to the media any longer than was necessary. Lewis was leading the championship, and Nico was sitting in third. He wants more than just being second to Lewis.

Riling himself up in his driver's room does him no justice. It’s only when he’s hovering outside of Lewis’ room, conflict warring in his mind, does he question what he’s about to do. There’s no turning back now, he thinks as he thumps his fist against the door.

“Hey man, do you want to break the door down?” Lewis says when he opens it. Nico barges past him and into his room, settling himself on the edge of the table.

“What the fuck were you doing today?” Nico angrily blurts. It’s not what he intended to start with but fuck it. His mood takes a steep dive when Lewis’ trademark cocky smirk lines his perfectly crafted features, “I think I already told you."

Gritting his teeth, he replies, "No the fuck you didn’t. You told the media you were focusing on your race, but you weren’t. Not really; you were too busy concentrating on fucking up mine.”

“So what if I was? It matters little now. I won. End of story."

Nico can’t help but scoff out, “Of course, yes. Because somehow you always seem to get it your way.”

“That’s absurd, Nico.”

“Is it? Everything seems to be going perfectly for you at the moment.”

“What are you even implying here, man? Because it sounds like you think the team is favouring me—well, newsflash! They’re not, we have a good car under us; you just don’t seem to be fucking using it, don’t blame that on me.”

“Like you wouldn’t be thinking the same in my position.”

“I’ve not been in a position to assume the team is favouring you over me."

“I can’t stand you.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual."

Their angry breaths are all that Nico can hear in the small room, he can’t think about anything other than the man standing in front of him. His eyes follow Lewis’ movements to the sofa, where he just collapses into the seat and he’s fighting the urge to sit next to him.

It was stupid of him to come here, and Nico realised only all too late that it was his smartest decision.

“This needs to stop, Nico,” Lewis hissed out. “Monaco, and then Spa. It can’t continue like this."

Nico’s jaw dropped. “What? We can’t race each other properly? Do you want me to just bend over for you because you think you’re-”

Lewis cuts him off, “I feel like I’m losing you.”

He can’t help but stare at Lewis; all thoughts have evaporated. Nico would’ve expected such words to hold a hint of shame or sarcasm, that Lewis doesn’t mean what he says, but he sounds so sure.

Silence sits heavy in between the two of them.

It’s Lewis who speaks next.

“Did you ever-” He stops, his hand swiping at his mouth in disbelief.

Nico follows suit: “Did I ever..."

“Did you ever think it would get to this? Me and you?"

The cogs turning in Nico’s head screech to a halt. No, he never thought that- no. He loves Lewis too much to just let him slip away.

“No, it never crossed my mind.”

Lewis laughs, but it sounds forced. "So, how did we end up here?”

Nico doesn’t have an answer for him.

“Lewis, Lewis, look at me,” Nico demanded, he knows he needs to say it now. It’s brash, hasty and uncalculated and so unlike Nico, but he needs to get it off of his chest.

He turns hesitantly, soft brown eyes fixed on him.

Nico swallows heavily and says, “I’m in love with you."

The tension lined his shoulders, fear flashing in his eyes as Nico’s words settled.

“No.”

“No?”

"No, you don’t, you don't—you can’t.” Lewis spits, looking into Nico’s eyes.

He should’ve expected this reaction from Lewis - that he would probably see a double meaning in his words. It makes his heart stutter.

“Lewis, I love you.” He stresses, “I want you to know that I am in love with you.” It tumbles out, and he watches as Lewis’ face twists with unknown emotions. When they were younger, Nico would’ve known what Lewis was thinking or what he was feeling just by an upturn of his lip or a quirk of his cheek.

It makes him realise just how much distance there is between them.

“I-” Lewis starts, rubbing at his face. He laughs in disbelief.

“You’re lying.”

“Lewis…”

“You are! Why are you telling me this now? Now, when you’re married to Vivian and have a child. Now, when we are barely friends? What are you getting from saying this?”

They stare at each other, and Nico feels his throat constrict.

“Because you deserve to know."

Because I love you, and I was stupid not to tell you earlier.

“And what made you think I could ever love you like that?” Lewis questions.

Nico’s mind is flying at the speed of light; he’s trying to fight the tears that will inevitably make an appearance. He knows that he probably looks like a kicked puppy, since Lewis looks genuinely regretful.

He can’t look at Lewis.

“I uh- I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m gonna head off.” He throws out. Lewis looks at him surprised, his mouth opening and closing as if there’s something else he’s about to add that’ll smash Nico’s heart up more than it already is.

Nico knows that Lewis’ eyes follow him out the door. He feels Lewis’ eyes burn into his back when he's storming into his trailer before he slams the door hard enough to shake the trailer.

He wishes Vivian was here, he wouldn’t have made this rash declaration if she were here. The incessant knocking on his trailer door only serves to worsen his mood. He’s naive in thinking it might be Lewis at his door. Instead, it’s the one person who Nico does not want to see in this mood of his.

It’s Sebastian Vettel.

He goes to throw the door back in his face when Sebastian shoves a foot in the way, preventing the door’s inevitable demise. It’s a losing battle on Nico’s behalf, so he lets him in. Sebastian makes himself at home on the sofa.

“Who knew the Mercedes trailer homes were so comfortable? Maybe I should ask Kimi to help steal one during the night.”

“As if he’d help you do that,” Nico huffs.

Nico wants to wipe the cocky grin off Sebastian's face. “You know at least Kimi would be willing to help me out, your teammate on the other hand…”

“Fuck you, Sebastian.” He spits venomously. Nico doesn’t lose his temper easily, but the last few moments of his conversation replay with Lewis and Sebastian’s appearance in his trailer have him boiling over the edge. He feels his hands shake with rage, and Sebastian’s imperceptible gaze picks up on it.

The smug look on his face disappears as quickly as it appears. Concerned, Sebastian moves to approach him carefully, as if Nico were a wild, untamed animal.

“Nico?” 

He laughs, “Did Lewis send you? To clean up his mess?”

Sebastian shrugs and juts his hip out against the island in the trailer. “What do you think?"

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I just want to know if Lewis told you what happened before you came here.”

Sebastian laughs, “I’m not entirely sure if you’ve noticed, but the paddock is a public setting; you flying through the place like a blundering buffoon does make waves, you know?”

Nico doesn’t know what to say. The last few moments are a blur, he just wanted to leave Lewis’ presence as quickly as he could. He’s conflicted about whether he should tell Sebastian about what he said.

He wants to tell Sebastian to get out; he wants to tell Sebastian that he doesn’t know how to live without Lewis, he wants to rave at Sebastian just because of Lewis. Then he remembers Spain, Sebastian and Lewis, and a bitter feeling rises in his throat. Nico takes a few breaths and turns his back to Sebastian.

“…Oh my god, oh my god."

Sebastian knows, and Nico dreads him saying it out loud.

“You love him.”

Nico feels like he’s been punched. A bead of sweat drops down his face, and he brushes it away with a shaky hand.

“Seb, please.” He begs, his voice trembling.

“So this is what’s been beating you up? Does Lewis know?”

“Please-”

“Oh my god, you told him, didn’t you? Did you only just-”

Nico tries again, “Can you please drop it?”

Sebastian shakes his head, his eyes baring into Nico. “No, you’re avoiding the topic, and we both know you need to talk about it. Who better to talk about it to than me?”

His face twists. “Of course, who better than you?”

Sebastian takes a step back, confusion marring his features.

“What- what are you talking about?”

“Spain, 2011,” is all he says. It slips out of him, and the jealousy from seeing the two together all those years ago bursts through to the surface.

The air stills for a split second before Sebastian warns, “That, Nico, isn’t any of your business. Do not twist this on me, now tell me what happened between you two, or I swear I will make this the problem of the entire grid come tomorrow evening.”

His eyes open comically wide, and his mouth moves to talk, but he’s speechless.

Nico relents after a pause, “You’re right. I told him, and he assumed I was playing mind games with him. He didn’t take it well."

“Tell me, did you honestly expect him to take it well?”

Nico flops onto the sofa in a dramatic fashion. “Seb, if I knew how it would go..."

“Yeah, I know. You’re not exactly the type to allow rejection to sit on those pretty blonde waves of yours."

“Look, Nico. Besides Jenson, I’m probably the closest person in this paddock who is not Mercedes-affiliated and who knows you and Lewis well. Hell, like you subtly hinted at, maybe I know Lewis a little too well, truth be told. But you two have a history that we will never fully understand; anyone who knows you will know you’re closer than what ‘friends’ warrant. Your issues are something only you can understand and fix, but if you need to talk, I am here. I am here for you.”

“You should go to Lewis, he needs-”

“Lewis doesn’t need me; Niki is with him.”

Sebastian sits opposite him, urging him to say something. He can’t control the tears that well up into his eyes, but he does hold them back, the stress of rejection sitting firmly in his chest. Lewis and Nico were supposed to share their golden days in the sport together, fighting for titles like they did when they were younger. Nico remembers their karting days as if they were yesterday and their determination to make their dreams of F1 a reality. They should’ve been together, celebrating each other’s successes. Instead, Nico is sitting and crying in his trailer with Sebastian Vettel for company.

He doesn’t realise he’s said all of this out loud until Sebastian speaks.

“Since when do we get what we deserve, Nico?”

It takes that one sentence to break Nico, the words hitting him like a train. His mind barely processes the fact that Sebastian is speaking from experience.

“I’m sorry, Seb.” He isn’t exactly sure what he’s apologising for.

"There's nothing for you to apologise for, it’s not your concern.”

They wallow in the silence of lost moments with those they couldn’t have. He wonders what Lewis and Niki are doing, whether or not Lewis is as torn up about his confession as he is. Nico knows he thinks about Lewis a little too much and that he should think of Vivian at home. He should be thinking about more positive things, like the baby on the way and what he and Vivian will name it. Instead, he’s musing over Lewis.

He needs to get it together; he shouldn't be so hung up over his teammate.

But he’s not just a teammate.

The moment he remembers that he’s got a debrief to attend is the moment his trailer door rattles under the force of someone's angry knocks. He doesn’t move, but Sebastian heads to the door. The powerful force of Niki Lauda comes barging in like a tornado.

Sebastian leaves him to it, selfish bastard.

“Did you forget you were supposed to have a debrief? Where were you?” Niki demands. The anger permeating his tone freezes Nico. Niki rarely shows his anger so openly that he’s stunned into silence.

“I don’t know what is going on with you, calling out Lewis in the media and missing out on debriefs, but it will not happen again. Do you understand?”

All he can do is nod in agreement. He spots the irritation lurking in Niki’s eyes and the dissatisfied look on his face. There’s nothing Nico can do but mutter out an apology to him and say that he’ll go and apologise to the team afterwards.

It’s then that Niki observes him properly, sizing him up. They lock eyes, and his eyes cloud over in realisation, taking a brief intake of air before he’s flying back out of his trailer and leaving Nico to his own devices.

Across different meetings and sponsor events, Nico is haunted by the reminder of his words whenever he sees Lewis. During race weekends, he’s in constant conflict with himself to ignore the words, only for them to be brought to the forefront when Lewis flashes his perfected PR smile at him during press conferences. It’s in the midst of late nights in Monaco, lying next to Vivian when he bolts up in the middle of the night over that fateful "I love you," thinking that might have been Lewis’ breaking point.

Nico tries to tell himself that it’s okay; it’s okay the way they are. They’re teammates and rivals, not meant to be anything more than that. The title ‘Best Friends’ is erased from the media just like it is when Nico thinks of Lewis. He’s just another driver on the grid to compete with. Nico ignores the worried looks of Vivian, his father and Toto; he ignores the way his heartstrings pull and snap at the slowly eroding relationship he once thought unbreakable.

He thinks it would’ve been fine if their lives weren’t so intricately linked. He thinks it will be fine because he doesn’t need to see Lewis’ bright and gorgeous smile or embrace him after a win like they used to. He doesn’t mind the fact that they no longer spend copious amounts of time together in hotel rooms or their living spaces, laughing and joking.

Whenever Toto or Niki bring up the tension between the team and their two drivers, both drivers disregard it. They pay no heed to the possibility that the agitation between the two could very well boil over onto the track, affecting their driving. It’s an open worry, but no one talks about it; they're too hesitant to even suggest the idea.

They both pretend Nico didn’t say “I love you” all those months ago.

Nico pretends he isn’t lying to himself when he says it doesn’t hurt.

Nico drives a wedge between them and starts closing off communication with Lewis’ side of the garage. No longer does he share data or talk about his training schedules with those affiliated with Lewis. It’s a growing concern with the higher-ups in the team, but there’s little they can do.

Days at the factory blend into race weekends, and before long it’s time for the summer break.

Lewis never loses the championship lead, despite the censorship that Nico has enforced on his side of the garage. Nico feels thorns of jealousy curl around his heart as Lewis’ ability to gloss over the fact that he doesn’t need Nico to win.

He forges the walls around himself with steel, refusing a crack of vulnerability to show. Nico’s on the back foot, so he swallows his pride and replicates him, trying to show Lewis that he isn’t made of delicate glass.

Those thorns twist and mangle, and he breaks at COTA. A slip of jealousy and anger breaks through, and suddenly he’s flying the second-place cap back at Lewis. Nico feels the mask shatter that day, and something ugly forms in his chest.

The team might be celebrating Lewis’ second title for them, but all Nico can think about is carving his name onto the championship trophy next year.

So Nico pushes down his feelings for Lewis and throws their relationship to the sidelines in order to drag his car into the coveted place of first.

It’s 2015, when Nico puts Formula 1 before his most cherished childhood relationship.

“Seb?”

“Yeah, Lewis?”

“Do you think there’s any way back for me and Nico?” He asks. They’re on the driver’s parade truck, watching Nico from a distance. Seb looks at him weirdly, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

“What do you mean, Lewis?”

“We were good. We were happy. We thought we could be teammates and fight for championships, and that we would be okay.”

“But it’s not, is it?”

Lewis blinks slowly; a strange look crosses his face. “It’s not. Toto knows it, the team knows it, everyone knows it, and we know it. I-“ His voice drops into a whisper; it’s so quiet that Seb doesn’t even know if he hears him correctly. “I feel like there’s no way back. We are not good like this, but there’s nothing we can do. I want to be happy, and I want him to be happy. But where we are, what we do, what we’re fighting for... I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You love him,” Seb says, saying what Lewis can’t voice out loud and speaking it so simply in a way that just makes it seem so easy, like he was just commenting on the weather.

“Yeah.” He replies, looking at Seb. The way his eye flinches and his lips curl with something that mirrors understanding has Lewis sighing.

“You knew.” 

“I knew when you came to my trailer after China.” They don’t talk about China. They’ve poignantly ignored the way that Lewis sought him out after Niki left, unbidden tears refusing to fall until Lewis collapsed in Seb’s arms.

Seb closes in on him as Ricciardo moves closer to them. “How long have you known?” He whispers, his voice almost lost to the roaring crowds of fans.

“2008, Australia.” 

“You should tell him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He’s married? He doesn’t need me to make his life complicated.”

"He—you have to tell him."

“I can’t, Seb. He’s happy, let it be.”

Seb drops the conversation, his eyes lingering on the crowd as he ponders what to say next. Lewis has always been able to bury these feelings and lock them away because they were distracting. He always put racing first; everything else came after.

Seb pushes his sunglasses to rest on top of his curls. “You two are more complicated than anyone here understands, Lewis. You deserve to be happy, but you shouldn’t be expected to make sure that Nico is happy as well.”

Lewis’ jaw tenses, heaving out a breath, “Do you think it’s possible for me? To be happy?”

“It might not feel like it now, but it will. You don’t need Nico’s validation to be happy, just like he doesn’t need yours. Someone will make you happy, if not happier, than he does and you’ll know whether or not you’re happy.”

He’s watching Nico closely while Seb speaks; he catches his eye, but unlike times in the past, he doesn’t look away. They stare from opposite sides of the truck as Lewis absorbs Seb’s words, realising he’s right. He doesn’t want him to be right on the account that he could find someone who makes him happier than Nico, but he supposes that with the current climate between them, it wouldn’t be a false assumption.

Lewis thinks of the years past, of him and Nico. He yearns for what they once were—that was the greatest time of his life when they simply enjoyed racing each other. No animosity, no mind games, no dogged and vicious fighting—just them and their karts. He thinks about the way he point-blank refused to believe Nico’s love confession was anything but a round of manipulation concocted by the German.

15 years after they had found themselves fighting in karts as best friends, Lewis and Nico found themselves in Formula 1 as bitter rivals.

It’s 2015 when Vivian teaches Nico that he can move on from Lewis.

(Kind of.)

She’s always had an inclination about Lewis and Nico’s relationship, but she doesn’t say anything to Nico about it because she doubts that he knows that she suspects. She saw it early on—the way they were so lively around each other, the quick glances Nico always made towards Lewis when he wasn’t looking. She also started to believe there was something more to them when she’d wake up and see Nico either staring out at the Bay of Monaco wistfully or rewatching old karting videos of the two.

Surprisingly, Nico approaches her on the topic of Lewis Hamilton, not the other way around.

They’re a year into their marriage, Vivian watching over Alaia when Nico arrives home late from travelling. “Viv?”

Vivian looks over and sees awfully pale skin paired with violet bags under his eyes. Her heart clenches; she knows the rivalry between him and Lewis has been getting worse - awful jabs thrown at each other - their relationship getting more acidic as more race weekends go by. She and Toto have been talking about it, wondering whether or not there was something they could do to ease tensions.

Nico collapses on the couch, the weight of the race weekend tugging at him. Lewis just completed a grand slam, edging closer and closer to taking the championship, whereas Nico didn’t finish, his engine giving up close towards the end - podium place lost.

She puts Alaia down to sleep before she joins Nico on the couch, rubbing his shoulder in a comforting manner until he’s ready to speak.

“This was our dream,” he croaks, his eyes dampening slightly.

‘I know.”

“I miss him. I miss the way we were.”

“Do you miss the friendship? or that little bit more that you were?” Vivian tentatively presses.

Nico tenses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Viv."

“Nico. I love you; you know I do, but you are quite dense. I like the way we are; I know you love me,” she begins, her delicate hand brushing the tears away from Nico’s cheeks.

“I noticed the way you are with each other. You’re closer than just friends, and I think that’s why this hurts you so much.”

He winces at her words, and more tears fall down his face.

“I love you,”

“I know, but it isn’t the same way you love him.”

“Lewis is my friend.” He swallows harshly, as if he’s trying to convince himself of the words.

“Don’t- don’t lie to yourself, Nico.”

Nico doesn’t know what to say; there’s a million things he should say, like, "No, I’m not in love with my best friend of 17 years." (he doesn’t think about the fact that he doesn’t even know if they’re friends anymore), but he knows nothing is going to convince her. Vivian has always been able to read him like an open book.

“It doesn’t matter, Viv,” he sticks with; it's not the best thing to say, but it’s the best he can come up with. “It’s not like it matters now, how much I-”

“It- it does matter, Nico.”

Nico can feel his throat closing up and his eyes beginning to sting from the crying. “No, it’s-”

Vivian sits patiently and places her hand on his knee to encourage him.

“I love you, and I love him, so much that it hurts. We’ve said some horrible things to each other recently. I told him that I- I told him, and all he had to say in return was,” He breaks off, chuckling harshly as he recounts what Lewis told him, “He told me he couldn’t love me like that. And it’s fine, I suppose; it’s not like I need him when I have you and Alaia. I’m so sorry, Viv, you don’t deserve this.”

His chest tightens as he tells his wife that he is in love with Lewis Hamilton.

“Nico,”

“All I want,” Nico continues, “all I want is to be happy. Do I not deserve that? My life has revolved around racing, so much so that it’s consumed me. That includes Lewis. I can’t separate racing from Lewis because, for me, they are the same. It hurts that we’ve come to this. I see him talking shit in the media, and I think I deserve better for myself. I’ve known him since we were 13 years old. I remember sitting under the stars with him in Greece, talking about how our dream would be to become World Champions in Formula 1, to be in the same team together, and how we would fight together. I want to be a world champion so badly, and Lewis doesn’t care. Our dream has become a nightmare, and it’s like I’ve become a stranger to him because whenever I look at him, I simply don’t recognise the guy staring back at me. Lewis will never love me back in the way that I love him, and I-  I just don’t get where we went wrong." He sobs out, and Vivian has never seen Nico this upset.

She can feel the tears welling up in her own eyes. It’s devastating to see her husband fall apart like this. She wraps her arms around him, letting him rest his head into the crook of her neck, and they stay like that for a while.

“You- you both deserve to be happy, Nico. And whether that’s together or in two different directions, I don’t know. I’m always going to be here for you; our little family is here. I want you to be happy, in whatever way that is for you. She says when she can tell he’s calmed down enough to comprehend what she’s saying.

They bask in the silence for a brief moment until Nico speaks again,

“I love him,” he says, more to himself than to her.

Vivian replies anyway, “I know.”

They’re 30, when he finally admits to himself that he’s in love with his best friend.

They’re 31.

They’re 31, and their relationship only deteriorates. They’ve barely spoken in weeks. Vivian had spent countless nights awake with Nico stressing himself; Niki had essentially become the shoulder for Lewis to cry on, refusing to go to his father about it. Toto, Niki, and Vivian are all at a loss and can rarely get them in a room together civilly - Nico fell back on off-hand comments about Lewis, while Lewis would flinch and throw back even harsher comments, a defensive mechanism to cover how he felt about the entire situation. The infamous mind games of Lewis and Nico, fearing to show a flicker of vulnerability otherwise the other jumps on it.

They don’t talk about it. The easygoing feeling of the early days is decimated, and there are no pieces to pick up and fix. The relationship is gone, non-existent. Privately, they mourn the loss of what they were.

(Even more discreetly, they mourn the loss of something they could’ve been.)

No longer are they scared to throw out harsh comments to the media in an attempt to attack each other. They don’t apologise to each other, and the battle rages on fiercely, with the media eating it up and churning it into the ‘Silver War’.

Nico wins race after race, and Lewis is left to climb to claim his first victory of the season.

Spain, 2016, becomes synonymous with the downfall of their relationship.

Toto is furious, as is a lot of the team. They’ve not only thrown away a 1-2, but Lewis has dropped back behind Räikkönnen in the standings. Niki fumes in front of everyone; Lewis and Nico are stripped bare by the three-time world champion, while Toto fumes silently.

With caution, Lewis approaches his side of the garage to apologise for the crash, offering the same commiserations to Nico’s side, even if half of them ignore him and the other half believe he’s only apologising because he’s obliged to. It’s going to be a long few days at the factory, he thinks.

It only gets worse as he’s leaving the track, with journalists hounding him at every turn. Questions fly about the team, the crash, Nico. Lewis’ nerves are fraying and unravelling quickly, and if it weren’t for Angela’s quick intervention, he’s almost certain that the crash wouldn’t have been the only thing he’s making media headlines for tonight. He spots Daniel from a distance and briefly waves in acknowledgement. The Red Bull driver reminds him that he’s not congratulated his counterpart for his first win in Formula 1, so he makes a beeline for the Aussie.

“Hey.” 

“Hey man, are you feeling good?”

Lewis bristles and hates the way his accent tilts on sympathetic. Half of the people he’s spoken to today have either pertinaciously approached him for answers or approached him on the matter of the crash as if he’s made of porcelain. Quite frankly, he’s had enough of the bullshit today, and he sends a quick prayer to God for some peace and quiet.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I wish the media would leave me the fuck alone for a moment." He says, forcing an emphasis on the words when he spotted the crowd of journalists lurking at the edge like sharks circling their prey.

Before he can add anything else, Max Verstappen is galumphing his way over to them. Lewis wants to make his commendations as quick as possible so he can leave this hellhole of a paddock, his patience with the media wearing thin. He briefly ponders whether or not Nico was equally bombarded as he was.

He shakes out of his thoughts to see Daniel’s hand waving in front of him incessantly.

“Hey, earth to Hamilton. Lewis- must’ve been having some deep thoughts there, mate.”

"Nothing, I was just—it's nothing.” He huffs out, stretches a hand out to Max and congratulates him. It’s brief, and Max can tell he’s just saying it automatically. Lewis is getting used to using his mechanically rehearsed PR sentences and quips today.

“Didn’t look like nothing, though? I thought the crash didn’t fuck you up." Daniel adds.

He spots Angela jogging back in the corner of his eye.

Lewis throws out his parting comment, “Maybe you should be focusing on your teammate's victory instead of my crash, Dan,” before he’s bundled into the back of the car by Angela to head back to the hotel. No one speaks to him; the air of angry energy flowing from Lewis encircles him like a vice. It takes Lewis all of his composure not to lose it in the car, or the hotel lobby. When he gets into his hotel room, however, it’s a completely different story.

He tears up half the room in anger and tries to limit the damage he could cause to the room. The season is five races in, and he hasn’t won a single one. Nico’s taken four wins back-to-back while he’s done what, exactly? The frustration of how shit his season is going just serves to fuel his anger; the crash be damned. Lewis is determined to no longer be on the back foot of Nico Rosberg; he’ll win in Monaco, and he calms himself by promising himself that.

When Angela arrives at his room for them to head back to England, he’s already cleared up most of his mess. He’ll tip the hotel generously for the disaster that remains because if he misses the flight, Niki will probably drop him from the team quicker than the amount of time he spent on track today. It’s a lovely band of merry men that meet them at the airport, faces plastered with dark frowns and scowls. He spots Nico sitting in the corner, headphones in, and his head tilted back. It takes an astronomical sense of self-control not to approach the German.

The plane finally leaves as the sun is setting; the flight was delayed by a few hours as a result of the onslaught of departing traffic. Lewis’ eyes fail to stray away from Nico the entire time, he knows that Toto and Niki have been watching the two of them intently, ready to jump in at any point.

It’s late, and a lot of their company has fallen asleep when Nico slides into the seat next to him. He warily eyes Toto and Niki and realises that Nico probably waited until they passed out before making his approach.

“You’ve been staring at me,” Nico says under his breath, careful in his tone to prevent anyone from waking up.

“Fuck you.”

“I heard you destroying your room earlier, I’m not sure they’ll be happy to receive the invoice." He nods over to the table of Austrians that Lewis has been eyeing diligently.

Lewis dismisses his jab, “I’ve covered it with my own expenses, it’s not going to be their issue. Now what do you want?"

“Well, I thought I should apologise before the meeting tomorrow.”

Fuck. In the midst of avoiding beady-eyed journalists, congratulating a child on his first F1 win and destroying his hotel room in an unadulterated rage, Lewis forgot about the hastily thrown-together damage-control meeting concerning the disaster of a race Spain was.

He glances out of the window, inky black and midnight blues filling the space. “Are you actually sorry, or are you just saying it because you think it’s the right thing to do?”

“I’m genuinely sorry, we threw away a good result.”

"Yeah, well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I’m more sorry for the team, however.” Lewis replies in a dismissive tone.

Nico nods and doesn’t make any move to get out of the seat next to Lewis, though. Their elbows brush against each other when Nico flips a page of a book he’s engrossed in while Lewis scrolls casually through his phone. The closeness of Nico throws Lewis off balance, he’s trying to think of the last time that they were in such close proximity to one another.

His mind blanks; he can’t remember the last time they were this close without throwing an insult.

It was supposed to be better with them as teammates. Instead, the thoughts of how distant he and Nico have gotten choke him, something deep inside of him aching for what they once had. It rattles him greatly that he’s scraping the bottom of the barrel for a peaceful moment with Nico.

It’s not until Abu Dhabi that Lewis reopens the chasm of feelings he’s been ignoring for the better part of a year.

Lewis thinks about 2000, the way they fought in karting. All the nights they spent together, eating pizza and trashing hotel rooms together. He misses them like that, untouched by the harsh reality of fighting in Formula 1. He chokes up when he thinks about the way Nico told him he loved him, and Lewis just threw it back in his face, assuming that he was saying it to get one over Lewis. He felt as though Nico was using the knowledge that he was bi for his own gain.

He was paranoid, incredibly so, but he remembers Nico’s face of pure devastation when he said he could “never love him like that."

He remembers the sickening feeling in his stomach as he thinks about those words. He has loved Nico for as long as he can remember; even throughout his relationship with Nicole, there was always something he felt for Nico that he refused to believe. But as he looks back at what he said, he knows better. The itching feeling of loneliness settles under his skin uncomfortably; it’s suffocating him. He needs Nico. He just wants to see him, apologise to him for the previous years back and forth toxicity.

He’s miserable without Nico. He’ll never admit it to anyone else or in front of a camera, but he’ll admit it to himself. He’s watched the bags under his eyes become more sunken; he’s wallowed in his room after media duties, press conferences, and team briefings. He’s never believed in a life without Nico, without seeing his golden smile or his bright eyes. It’s been months, and he only sees Nico at the factory or in the paddock. He doesn’t see him in their hotels, and somehow he avoids him in their apartment block. He doesn’t see Nico in any way other than a professional manner anymore.

He thinks about the 15-year-old who thought he and Nico could breeze F1 with no consequences to their relationship, they believed that their relationship could withstand the tests of time. Oh, just how wrong were they?

Lewis believed, when he was younger, that he could never exist in a world where Nico wasn’t by his side. They’ve been friends, teammates, rivals. They’ve always been side by side.

He thinks that after tomorrow, that will change.

In Abu Dhabi, when he crosses the line in first place, he already knows. He looks at Nico and sees the way the joyous tears fall down his face.

He knows.

Lewis already knows this is the last time he’s going to see him on the podium, dressed in Mercedes white. He doesn’t know whether to feel relief or sadness. Their relationship was destroyed by this sport, for this title. He doesn’t know if there’s any way back from this, to be like they were before.

Lewis loves Nico enough to know that he needs to let him go.

He just doesn’t know if he’s in the right place to do that just yet.

They’re 31, when Nico announces his retirement from Formula 1.

Lewis observes Nico from a distance, following his announcement that he is retiring. He looks better, happier. There’s a hop in his step that has been missing for years.

Lewis feels guilty. Responsible, even, for taking Nico’s happiness away.

Seeing Nico walk into Brackley on a misty January morning very nearly had Lewis getting back into his car and going home for the day; unfortunately for him, he’s got a day full of meetings and sponsor duties and therefore doesn’t have the luxury to do so. He knows they’ve got a few more events to go to together, thanks to Nico’s ambassador role with Mercedes, but Lewis was trying to keep their interactions to a minimum. With the state of their relationship, Lewis might love Nico to the ends of the universe, but he would rather see him happy from a distance than upset and tired from across the table.

Toto hadn’t given him a heads-up that he was coming to the factory today. Lewis didn’t know he would be here. Getting into his office and seeing Nico 20 feet away from him, packing his belongings up, just didn’t feel right to him. Irritation set beneath his skin as he watched him from the corner of his eye. It's on impulse that Lewis is marching over to Nico’s office to see if he’ll speak to him.

He tapped on the glass door, forcing his way in without allowing Nico to say anything. Nico startles and drops a box on the floor with a thump.

“Lewis.”

“Nico.”

“I’m here to grab my things, then I’m leaving again.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?"

Not even Lewis knows why he’s standing there. He wants to tell him everything, about how he feels, what he wants. He wants to tell him that he didn’t mean what he said, he wants to tell him so much. He won't; Lewis knows this deep down, but he wants to. He stands there and watches Nico pack his things up into cardboard boxes, the little pieces in that room that left Nico’s impression disappearing to leave behind a plain office devoid of Nico. It looks wrong. Lewis can’t watch Nico slip away from him inch by inch, he feels like he’s losing himself.

"I, uh- I don’t know.”

He turns on his heel and slinks back into his own office. He can’t watch Nico leave like this.

After a while, as he’s opening his neglected emails, Nico appears in his office in a similar way that he had done earlier.

“Lewis.”

“Nico.”

“I just wanted to-”

It tumbles out of his mouth before Nico can say anything. “You know I’ll miss you."

Nico never gets irrationally angry, but with the storminess behind his eyes, Lewis knows he’s struck a chord.

“You’re having me on right now.”

Maybe he is. Lewis shrugs.

“I will.”

Nico fumes, “I’m leaving because of this, because of you. You don’t get to sit there and say that you’ll miss me.”

Lewis feels like he can’t breathe.

“You’ve always been distinguished as the best out of the two of us, Lewis. Everything you do, no one in this team will see a flaw in it. I believed in you since we were 15, and in karts, when I signed for Williams, I always saw you cradling this godforsaken sport in the palm of your hand because you’re just that good. I felt like I couldn’t compare sometimes, and even last year I had to throw everything in to compete for this title, so you don’t get to sit there and tell me you’ll miss me. It’s unfair, and it’s selfish.”

Lewis doesn’t know who’s more shocked about Nico’s outburst: Lewis, Nico, or the PA standing at the door with documents pertaining to Lewis’ sponsor events.

When Nico spots her, he flushes with embarrassment.

“Goodbye, Lewis.”

Lewis watches on as Nico storms out as quickly as he arrived. Nico’s words are like a repeating melody in his head that he can’t escape. The dramatic outburst was unexpected, and Lewis seldom saw this side of Nico. Thinking about the past few years has him dropping his head into his hands and pressing his palms into his eyes hard enough that his vision begins to spot.

"Uh, I’ve brought your itinerary for the commitments you’re obliged to attend.” She says after a moment, dropping the document onto his desk before scurrying out of the office in a manner similar to how Nico disappeared.

Nico’s cast a dark cloud over his mood; he knows that someone is going to come looking for him, wondering why he’s late to his meetings. The day flies by until he’s sat in his final meeting, and one of the engineers is sitting there droning on about the changes for this year's car. The car that he and Nico should’ve been fighting each other in this year, his mind adds unhelpfully. The entire day, all he can think about is Nico. He’s agitated, his mind lingering on Nico’s words. Whenever he blinks, the angered twist of Nico’s face sits behind his eyelids, the flush that landed on his skin, the way his hand flew about angrily as he vented.

Valtteri looks at him concernedly throughout the entire meeting; no doubt he has heard about the wonderful scene that was laid out in Lewis’ office. Indeed, he’s surprised neither Toto nor Niki have called him up on it—there was still time to do so, he surmises. Everyone in the office had been walking on tightropes when it came to Lewis and Nico, and with his retirement, no one exactly knew where the two of them stood. Lewis couldn’t give a fuck what they thought, it was a relationship left decaying in 2016.

He’s just getting ready to head off when the receptionist beckons him over and hands him a crisp white envelope and a small parcel.

“Mr. Rosberg left these here and asked me to hand them over to you specifically.”

“Did he say what it was?” He questions, scanning over the two items. He spots Nico’s familiar scrawl on the front, brushes his fingers over the looped letters.

“He didn’t give a description, no.” Lewis frowns. He thanks the man and heads out the door, parcel under his arm and letter firmly secured in his grip.

He looks over to the spot where Nico’s car had been parked. It’s left bare; its previous occupant is long gone and not expected to return. The office clear-out had made Nico’s departure feel incredibly real, it makes him flinch inwardly, knowing they’ll never be teammates again. It feels like 18 years of his life have slipped away from him, and a nostalgic feeling washes over him.

It’s when he gets in his car that he deems it necessary to open the envelope. He’s hesitant, he doesn’t know what the contents of the envelope could pertain to. Lewis opens the neatly folded page.

(Mum had this made for you a while back. There are only two copies, I kept yours in my office because I was unsure when to give it to you.

Yours, Nico.)

Inside the box is a linen-bound cream memo album, edges frayed with age. He lifts it out of the box and runs his hand down the mottled linen gently, as if it’s the most precious jewel. The spine cracks as he flicks it open; old photos of Nico and him fill the pages. Photos from karting—a few snaps of them that they each took on a disposable camera during their trip to Greece. He smiles at the one he took of Nico lounging on the balcony of their hotel room, examining it more closely to make out the unamused look on his face, betrayed by the warm twinkle in his eye and the cheeky upturn at the corner of his mouth.

His eyes stray to a few from his McLaren days, the podium photos from Australia. He swallows sharply, thinking about the events that followed. He shakes out of it, concentrating his focus on shots taken in Bahrain during the 2014 season.

His chest spasms with something akin to guilt and melancholy, looking at these old memories. He feels the tears build up and threaten to escape his eyes, but he can’t stop them from falling and slams shut the album, throwing it carelessly into the passenger seat. He already felt on edge since Nico’s sudden paroxysm earlier, but he could feel himself slowly crumbling under the emotions he had been suppressing since Nico’s decision to retire.

Lewis just sits in the car park of the Mercedes factory and breaks down. He’s inconsolable as the sobs fight their way out, he tries to smother them down by covering his mouth, but it’s useless.

He always felt as though Nico would be there, by his side. It was alien to him to expect Nico to be anywhere else.

With Nico, Lewis was himself. He never felt like he needed to control himself around Nico because he preferred people to be their honest selves. He’s always had Nico in his corner, propping him up when no one else could. Lewis had always expected their stint as teammates in Formula 1 to be the greatest era the sport had ever seen, and while their rivalry might sit in the memories of many for years to come, Lewis had hoped for a better ending for the two of them. He thinks of Nico as the sun to his Icarus, and Lewis promises himself he won’t fall into the same trap of orbiting too close to his future teammates.

The penny finally drops. Nico isn’t there anymore, by his side. He realises that he will have to conquer the sport by himself, with Nico watching on from the shadows.

Lewis is 32 when he realises Nico’s walked out of his life.

Chapter Text

He walks back into Lewis’ life quicker than he expected.

Or rather, he’s running.

Nico Rosberg running to catch him up on his morning run through London was not planned, and Lewis doesn’t know if he feels apprehension or annoyance at his appearance. 

He thought he could hear someone shouting his name over his music, but he had been concentrating on his breathing, the steady thump of the base in line with his strides; it’s only when the music switches that he stops to the shout of his name.

“Lewis!”

The cold air of a dying winter burns itself into his lungs as Nico approaches him, eyes crinkled in a smile.

“You know, I was beginning to think you were ignoring me.”

Not a single hair was out of place, slicked back by a careful hand that brushes down his tailored suit. 

“Uh, is there something you wanted, Nico?”

“Spotted you from a distance, wanted to see how you were getting on? How is everything at the factory?”

“Yeah, no- I’m great, man. Valtteri and I are getting on well, the car is shaping up to be a winner. It’s going well!” He plasters a smile on his face. In all actuality, he and Valtteri had barely spoken outside of media engagements or work meetings.

Nico smiles, but it’s as fake as Lewis’ own, “That’s great to hear! Look, I’m in London for a few days - I was wondering if we could meet at some point? Viv misses you.” 

What is he playing at?

Checking his watch, he glances back up to see Nico’s hopeful eyes. Lewis is torn, should he meet them? Or not? He decides against it, lies forming on the tip of his tongue as he pulls his mouth into a solemn frown.

“Look, Nico, I would but I’m flying out to Switzerland tonight, I’ve got a prior engagement to attend. How long are you in London for?”

“Four days or so, look, don’t worry about it,” He chuckles sadly. “It would probably be quite awkward anyway, it was stupid of me to suggest it.” Tension settles in the brisk, English air as Lewis watches the tentative hope die on Nico’s face.

“It’s uh–I’ve got to run, Lewis. Event and all to go to. It’s been nice seeing you.”

“Yeah, you too Nico.”

Forlornly, he watches Nico’s retreating form, thinking of the last time he watched Nico walk away from him. He pictures the worn-out memo album and abruptly calls out to Nico.

He turns back slowly, questioning look on his face.

“Thank you. For the album.”

“No problem, Lewis. Hope you liked it.”

He’s 32 and he’s conflicted about where exactly he stands with Nico Rosberg.

“You’re not calling to ask for my advice on a Championship battle with Lewis Hamilton, are you?” He opens with, the unforeseen phone call interrupting his exercise routine. 

“Would that be cheating?” The familiar, cheeky German lilt of Sebastian Vettel washes over him.

Nico raises a brow, forgetting that Sebastian isn’t in the room, “Well, I don’t know if Toto would be fond of the idea.”

“Lucky for you, I just wanted to see how retired life is going. Wondering if it’s time I hang up the racing boots.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Nico laughs. He wonders if Lewis and Seb are better title contenders than they ever were, and wonders if it’s a more positive battle behind the scenes. Seb has been leading the standings from the start of the 2017 season, Lewis trailing close behind. 

“Perhaps, but uh- no cheating for today, I just to see if you’ll be bothered if I ask to meet sometime during the Monaco GP weekend?” 

“Oh really?”

“Really, by high time we have a catch-up.”

That’s how Nico finds himself in the familiar, quaint restaurant. He remembers Lewis’ drive in 2006 like a song, melodic and perfectly crafted. He remembers the sinking feeling in his chest when Lewis brushed past him with Timo Glock in tow, how his laughter twinkled through the restaurant when Glock slipped off the step and onto his ass. In the back of his mind, he remembers Viv’s questioning places when his mood suddenly dropped.

He finds himself opposite a different blonde in a different time, heart aching for a past long abandoned. Nico’s familiarity with the owners combined with Seb’s astonishing charm gets them situated in a secluded booth, masked away from intrigued onlookers.

They make polite conversation about the season, about Nico’s plans following his retirement. The unspoken topic early on in the night is obviously the Mercedes pilot. It’s not until Nico and Seb have had a few glasses of wine, the buzzing feeling fogging his head and dusting Seb’s cheekbones red that Lewis is brought up.

“I’m sorry, by the way. For how everything ended between you two.” Seb remarks, Nico might be a few glasses down by now but the alcohol does nothing to stop that sharp pain attacking his chest.

He’s looking out onto the street, staring at the spot that Glock had decked it before mustering a response.

“I never thought that would be how it ended, you know?”

“Well I mean, me and Mark had an incredibly tense relationship when we were in Red Bull - that’s sugarcoating it anyway - but we’ve found a way to be amicable in the aftermath. I expected your retirement to result in a similar outcome for you two given your long history.”

“It’s- we hurt each other, I think we need time.”

Seb looks up from his tagliatelle, eyes piercing into Nico’s own. “You know, you’re just as bad as each other. Maybe you’re perfect for each other, this long-distance pining or whatever the fuck it is you two are during. He acts like you don’t exist and you’re sitting here moping into your gnocchi - truly, anyone who was on the grid during those years deserves emotional compensation.” 

Nico doesn’t exactly know how to pick his jaw up from off of the floor. He looks to the ceiling as Seb continues his rant, hoping for Seb to drop the topic of his extremely complicated relationship with Lewis,

“I, like many of the other older drivers - not to say I’m old or anything - want you two to get your shit together. I’m surprised Toto hasn’t locked the both of you in a cupboard to iron out your issues for his own mental wellbeing.”

“It’ll take time, Seb,” Nico mutters weakly.

“What happens when that time runs out, Nico? He’ll retire at some point, move into fashion or whatever he fancies and he’ll leave Formula 1 behind. He won’t have to rely on racing like other drivers to stay relevant because he’s built this entire empire for himself to branch out into after he’s done. And, when he’s broken all the records, accomplished what he’s set out to achieve, how do you expect to reach out to him to discuss a life he’s long left in the dust? There are not many regrets a racing driver will have, but I think not trying to mend a broken relationship when it’s the perfect moment to do so would be a major regret.”

“I can try,” is all Nico can promise. Seb seems discontent with his answer but doesn’t try to push further.

He feels like he’s suffocating in the reception for the wake, fights his way to the balcony for some sort of reprieve. It’s darker now, the air has chilled considerably since they arrived. The racket of everyone behind him accompanies him like a noose whilst he’s desperate for a moment of peace after today.

Nico finds himself thinking about that ill-fated Monday night when Toto called about Niki.

Toto didn’t call Nico directly, opting to phone Vivian instead.

“Hey, Toto’s calling,” Viv comments. Nico nodded, he said he’d give a heads up about dinner plans when the main bulk of the Mercedes lot rolled into town for the Grand Prix.

She answers, but whatever Toto says has her worrying her bottom lip roughly. He knows something is wrong when she pushes the phone into his hand.

Nico presses the phone to his ear. “Toto?” There’s muttering in the background that’s drowned out by Toto breathing in deeply.

The words ring in his head for a few hours after, long after they’ve gone to bed. 

“It’s Niki, Nico.”

The voices behind aren’t as loud to Nico when a familiar voice washes over them. “I can’t quite believe he’s gone, you know? He was always that person you just assumed would live forever.”

“You know, I think- I think he always wanted to see us reconcile,” Lewis whispers. Nico’s jolted out of his memory for a moment, he didn’t know when Lewis had moved over to stand brushing his shoulder against his but he doesn’t make any concerted efforts to move. 

A similar train of thought had been darting around his mind throughout the day, he just pushed it aside for another long night of sleeplessness and regret. Lewis saying it aloud, to him, makes it hit a little too close to home. 

Lewis hasn't even blinked in Nico’s direction in months, doesn’t mention his name, omits him from memory. It hurts Nico a little; once, he had been Lewis’ closest friend. Then, his victory on the streets of Monaco in Niki’s honour meant he showered everyone, including Nico, in champagne.

Their brief interaction that day had him missing Lewis. It wasn’t like before when there was this dull ache from simply standing in the paddock and glancing over to the Mercedes hospitality, simply knowing that he was in the same vicinity as him. The spray of champagne in his direction mocked him; it was a taunt towards a life that was barely within reach. 

Now, he’s taunted by the presence of the man who is, to him, still his best friend. Still the Lewis Hamilton that he fell in love with.

Nico laughs, the sound jarring to his own ears, “Yeah, well, at least someone thought it might be possible.”

He’s not sure if it’s being in Lewis’ presence or the freezing air that has a shiver racking his body. “Damn it, Nico. I don’t want to fight.” Lewis says wearily.

“Neither do I.” He smiles back weakly. They’re still in tune with the old days, refusing to give the other ground. But it’s not 2016, and Nico is retired - there’s no need to protect his most vulnerable emotions to prevent giving Lewis an advantage - those days are long behind them. 

Lewis leans against the wall, uses it to steady himself, “You’re a fucking idiot, you know?”

Nico blinks - he’s offended for one, and secondly, he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve the insult.

“None of that had to happen, 2015, 2016... We could have had it all, and it just slipped away from us because we were too selfish.”

“Racing does that, Lewis.”

Side-eyeing him, Lewis scoffs, “No, we took it too far. We were dangerous for each other, everyone saw it. It was a damn miracle that you left, for both you and me.

But I couldn’t really comprehend that you had left, over 16 years of racing together and you were just gone just like that. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, sometimes I still think it’s some awful nightmare.”

Nico starts, “I hate to–”

“You retired, you did that for us, but I had to continue racing without you and that terrified me.”

The silence is suddenly too much for Nico. He forces himself to suck in a breath at Lewis’ admission, he never thought about how his retirement would affect Lewis. In truth, he didn’t think it would.

Lewis squeezes his arm gently, “I’ll see you around, Nico.” 

There’s so much he wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to speak.

He watches Lewis walk back into the venue, disappearing into the crowd and leaving Nico with his thoughts. 

It’s odd, he knows no one is listening, but it doesn’t sit right with him to leave the moment incomplete. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

He finds himself unable to sleep, the display screen of his phone reads 3:22am when he unlocks it. The last time he messaged Lewis was last year; the message went read but unanswered but now, he needs to send Lewis the thought that had been plaguing him since they went their separate ways. 

Nico doesn’t expect a response back; Lewis is either sleeping like the rest of Monaco or he’s changed his phone number.

Nico 

I’m not sorry for leaving, but I am sorry for how we ended. [3:23am]

Lewis

i know [3:25am]

Nico

Will you stay in contact? [3:25am]

Lewis

i will try if it benefits you. [3:36am]

When he tells Vivian everything in the morning, she says she thinks a reconciliation between the two of them is possible. It opens a cavern of possibilities and Nico dreams. 

But Lewis doesn’t text or call him again, and Nico acts as if he didn’t check every notification with a fervent belief it might be Lewis on the other end. He knows there’s still so much more to be said between the two of them, the night of Niki’s wake confirmed that. He just doesn’t feel like this is the end.

Vivian

Do you ever think you will be friends again?

Lewis

maybe when we’re older

Vivian

When you both have matured enough to pull your heads out of your asses?

Vivian

Will you tell him?

Lewis

i’ll let him know someday

Lewis just isn’t sure when. 

He pretends to himself, hides away the idea of Nico like a forbidden thought. Some nights he ponders on his childhood, the boy that Nico used to be. Besides his family, Nico is the only person he’s ever truly loved. Lewis thinks about how Nico isn’t here racing anymore because he has a family and a duty to them. F1 isn’t Nico’s priority and Lewis has to settle for seeing him from a distance in the paddock or a rare time when they share the elevator in their apartment block.

The season passes by in a haze following Monaco, Nico Rosberg pushed to the back of his mind as he focused his mind on racing and fashion ventures. He fixates on racing, determined to become the best. It’s in Austin when he notches a sixth title under his belt, another trophy for the cabinets back at Brackley. 

He travels to places he always wanted to visit but never had the chance to, he meets new people, he’s introduced to new cultures, and Lewis experiences a world outside of his interests. His mind is overcome with love and appreciation so much so that it temporarily replaces the idea of a man living in Monaco. 

Lewis refuses to slip up on his winter training camp for 2020, spending most of it isolated in the Colorado mountains. It’s only in the loneliness of sleepless nights that he drags out the old battered photo album. Nico’s brisk, handwritten letter is still cleanly tucked in the front and the press of the paper against his thumb sends a shock of guilt through his system. It haunts him, weighing him down most nights. Lewis can’t let go of Nico. He’s too entwined in many chapters of Lewis’ story for him to simply omit. 

He accepts the guilty shadow following him around, Lewis tells himself that if he can’t be better for Nico then he can try for himself and those around him.

Nico’s body feels heavy. The “and a better teammate” statement from Lewis sits at the front of his mind, his hands feel twitchy and clammy. Everyone caught on to his sharp intake of breath when Lewis said it, the way Jenson looked at him with something akin to pity. Vivian had messaged him suggestively, saying that he was reaching out.

She’s certainly had enough of his almost overly obsessive nature towards Lewis and Nico is entirely certain that she’s halfway to typing out a message suggesting Nico should just fuck him to get the weird tension between them over with. 

It’s been months since he and Lewis have had a conversation. He’s seen him up and down the paddock, in the lift to his apartment, at the local supermarket. Whatever demon possessed him to message Lewis on the night before what will be the biggest race of his life, asking him to dinner, Nico is going to hunt it down and strangle it with his bare hands.

Lewis

room number and when?

Nico is going to lose his goddamn mind.

He’s wracked with anxiety, pacing his hotel room like a caged animal. Thinks of another time 5 years ago when this wouldn’t have been happening, his heart is pounding and if Nico was ten years older he’d be calling his doctor.

For the first time in years, Nico feels genuine nervousness. He doesn’t know why Lewis has accepted, and he doesn’t know what he's going to say to him. 

Nico is scrolling through his phone mindlessly to try and relax when he hears a knock on the door, confident and bold. It’s Lewis, tension between his shoulder blades and a bag of takeout in his hand.

“Hi.”

“Hey!” Lewis chirps, and Nico can’t help but chuckle at the lack of worry for tomorrow - it’s not his first rodeo and Nico knows that Lewis actively enjoys the thrill of a title-deciding weekend. 

Lewis looks ethereal even in the casual outfit he’s wearing. The tie-dye joggers hang low and the oversized black hoodie makes Lewis look soft in the warm light of the room. Nico really looks at him, he’s beautiful in a way that makes Nico’s head hazy and he wishes not for the first time that Lewis was his. 

He could be now, if Nico really tried. 

For all his worries that this was going to go terribly and awkwardly, Nico finds himself actively enjoying himself. There’s no stress, no nagging pressure to consistently drag Lewis down. 

They’re talking and laughing in a way that hides the way they’ve been for the past 5 years. It’s almost like they were never distant from one another. It’s weird, but all the same. Nico has missed just being around Lewis.

He kind of thought the whole ‘moping over Lewis’ approach he had going on would’ve evaporated in the man’s presence.

He tells Lewis about him and Vivian, how they’re living together but not together. Their love for each other had evolved more into a friendship, and thankfully, their divorce proceedings were quiet enough that it hadn’t hit the sports media. They had two wonderful children to take care of, and given their neighbours from across the hall were moving out, Vivian would only be a walk away if needed. 

(They ignore talking about their time in Mercedes together, but it hangs heavy in the air.)

Lewis recounts their old days of karting, and how the 2021 season has been for him.

Nico finds himself interrupting Lewis, “Did you mean it?” 

Lewis laughs, “Did I mean what, exactly?”

“That you’re a better teammate now.”

“Yeah, I would say I am.”

“Viv thinks you meant it as an olive branch,” Nico says, voice lowered.

“And what if it was?” Lewis looks up, eyes heady and his smile intoxicating.

He can’t believe it.

“I- it’ll be rough, Nico, I can’t lie. We hurt each other a lot, and it stings me still - everything you said, everything I said. I regret it. We won’t ever be the same and I think that’s guaranteed, but it’s been so long that I want us to be on better terms.”

“I would like that as well," Nico confirms.

It’s a start to rebuilding something that was destroyed. They’re laying down the shaky foundations to rebuilding their relationship, and Nico hears his father's voice telling him about how ‘you always meet twice in life’. 

They’re quietly finishing off the rest of the takeout when Nico watches Lewis’ lips pull into a sad smile, “I still love you, you know? I don’t know if I ever told you.”

His heart stops.

“What?”

“I realised, in 2008. We had just been out for our podium in Australia. I woke up with you on my chest and I thought- I thought that I couldn’t see a moment in my life where you weren’t there, where you and I lived parallel lives-”

Nico hears ringing in his ears as Lewis continues speaking,

“-I never told you, because I didn’t think you could love me like that and with the lives we had it was impossible. When you told me back in 2016 that you loved me I assumed it was some ploy to get me off my game, I never entertained the idea that you reciprocated so I told you that I…” Lewis trails off as they both know what he said that day.

“You thought- did you think that I said that to get at you? You thought that was something I would do to you?”

“What else was I supposed to think? That you were telling me that you loved me immediately after a race in which you thought I was fucking up your race?”

“Why would you tell me this now? Why couldn’t you have told me then?”

“You were happy.”

“I was fucking miserable without you,” he croaks, “do you really think I would use something against you like that?”

Lewis believes him. Nico feels the ground slipping from under him.

“Lewis…”

“I uh- can we continue this during the winter break, please?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you.”

Lewis stands up, clears the takeout containers and grabs his things before turning to leave.

“Lew-“

He turns.

It must have been written on his face.

“I know, Nico.”

Lewis loves him.

And with that, Nico is sitting alone in his hotel room. He doesn’t register he’s crying until he feels the linen of his shirt start to dampen against his heaving chest. He sobs. He sobs for the boy who used to live up to his father’s expectations, ignoring his feelings for his best friend until he couldn’t any longer. He mourns for the life he pictured alongside his friend, a life that would forever remain a distant dream. All the missed opportunities where they could’ve said something, could’ve done something - his lungs hurt from all the crying but he can’t find it in himself to stop. 

He wishes he wasn’t on media duties the next day because watching Lewis walk up to the podium, with his expression unrecognisable, it’s hell for him to be so close to Lewis and unable to comfort him in his time of need. He wants to hold him and never let him go - he hates the fact there’s nothing he can do for him. 

Nico watches as Lewis leaves the paddock that night in a rushed and discreet affair, ignoring the post-race conference and his media duties. Nico wishes he could do the same but he has to stay here and do his job as a pundit, as if he could do his job when all he can think of is how his heart is a hundred miles away, mourning the loss of a race win that should’ve been his.

In his heart, he knows Lewis won the title that night.

They’re 36, when part of Nico’s love for the sport dies away in the night sky of Abu Dhabi.

It began just before Christmas. 

Lewis had never felt so empty, so hollow. He had been so close, and it was all ripped away from him in seconds and there had been nothing he could do about it. He had sat and wallowed in self-pity in the mountains of Colorado for weeks, surrounded by his family who had been keeping their distance to respect his feelings.

He had cut himself off from the rest of the world, deleted all of his social media apps, refused to attend the FIA gala. It was petty, he knew that, but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck. He had been robbed from making history, the last thing he wanted to do was go and celebrate someone else’s title with all the people who allowed that to happen.

Lewis had ignored hundreds of messages from concerned friends and some of the drivers who even bothered to check in on him. 

It was at times like this he wished he had changed his phone number because there was one regular caller that Lewis just prayed would leave him alone.

Nico didn’t just call, he would leave a voicemail every time without fail.

He got a few from others, however Nico had all but filled his voicemail inbox.

It was in the middle of the night, everyone in the house asleep when he padded his way into the living room. He fought the urge to open any of the voicemails for as long as he could but his resolve quickly broke. 

He clicks on the first one, “Uh- hi, Lew,” Nico’s voice begins to float through the room, and his heart clenches at the old nickname, “I don’t exactly know what to say. Wanted to check in to see how you’re after… I hope you’re ok, I’m uh- I’m worried. About you,” Nico huffs out a humourless laugh that has Lewis swallowing thickly, “I know we’re not exactly great right now, but please, call me back to let me know you’re okay.”

The message ends, and Lewis clicks on another one, “Hey, it’s Nico, again.” Lewis picked up on the sad tone almost immediately. He knows Nico as intimately as the tattoos on the back of his hand, “I already know it’s unlikely you’re going to pick up, Seb told me you haven’t been answering any of his messages. I just want you to know that I’m thinking of you, and I’ll keep calling until you answer at least one of my calls to tell me that you’re okay. Please, just call me back.”

He can’t stop opening them.

“Hey Lewis, it’s me again. The girls asked about you today, they said thank you for the Christmas gifts you left." There was some disturbance in the background before Nico spoke again, “He’s not picked up once, I just- It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken, cordially, what if he doesn’t want to talk, Viv? I-” The phone cuts off.

The last one, from about a day ago, is the last one that Nico has sent.

“I know you aren’t listening to these, Lew, so this is probably the last one I’m going to send. I’m kind of done with this bullshit. We’ve not been ‘friends’ for years now, but you are still my best friend. I love you, and I just want you to be okay. I want us to be okay so please, please just call me back.”

He calculates the time that it would be in Monaco, nervousness wracking his body as his thumb hovered over the call button. He put his phone down and twisted his rings painfully before losing all composure and hitting call.

It rings and rings and just when Lewis goes to put the phone down, the phone connects.

“Lew?”

It didn’t take much for him to choke back up again, his emotions all over the place, “Hi, Nico.”

Nico flies out to Colorado the next day.

They’re sitting in the middle of an art gallery.

Nico tends to forget just how famous Lewis is now as his management has booked out the place for a few hours.

The silence is colossal.

He’s never found himself wanting to go to an art gallery for fun, but it was quiet and given the fact that they are Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg, if anyone was to spot them together, the sporting world would probably grind to a halt.

Nico looks to his left, there’s a portrait of a woman. It looks bland from where he is sat, yellowed from age. Her head turned downwards into a handkerchief as she weeps, the solemness of the portrait resonates with him. He is confounded, wondering if she weeps out of grief or happiness. The strokes and colours form a beautiful portrait onto the paper and Nico can’t help but appreciate the artwork. It’s different from the art of perfecting a lap for pole position, but he can admire the fact that there’s the same dedication and passion behind it. 

No artwork would compare to Lewis , he thinks, even in the way he is right now. He’s never seen Lewis look worse, the effects of what happened weighing down on him. He wants Lewis to be happy.

“Do you ever wonder how people can look at a painting and see the inner meanings behind the strokes? How people can have different interpretations of that painting? Yet, we will never know what the artist was thinking when they were creating it?” Lewis is whispering, almost as though he is afraid to disturb the silence of the gallery.

Nico shrugs. 

“I suppose so. I mean, we didn’t paint it so our interpretations are warped. We have different views of art because of the way we are brought up, our religion, our culture. Our minds interpret it differently, I suppose that’s the uniqueness of art.”

“Do you think you would make a good artist?”

“I think I made a pretty good one. I think we’ve made pretty good artists.”

“Who knew you could be so complimentary.”

“I work as a pundit for Sky Sports, it comes as part of the job,” He smirks.

Lewis gives him the most genuine smile he’s seen in the last few days that they’ve spent together, Nico takes it as a win.

“I don’t think I’d make a good portrait artist, however. It takes too long to perfect, my patience and attention to detail would dwindle.”

Lewis looks at the painting that Nico had been focusing on earlier, Nico wonders about how or why the artist decided to paint the portrait when he looks back on it.

“What do you see?” He asks.

Lewis shrugs, “A woman crying. I don’t see much else to it, Nico!”

“Do you not wonder, why is she crying? What is she crying for? Do you not look into the deeper meaning of the portrait?”

Whilst Lewis studies the painting, Nico studies Lewis. The way his face scrunches as he concentrates, how he picks at his cuticles thoughtfully. He gets lost counting the freckles that adorn Lewis’ face, Nico commits his face to memory. He soaks it in, unknown for how long this - whatever this is between them - will last.

It was at the exact moment that Nico had noticed he was staring that Lewis turned back to him. 

“What are you looking at?”

“You.”

“What do you see?”

He smiles lightly, “I see- I see one of the most important people in my life. He aims to change the world, explore, learn. What he wants exactly I can’t say because I don’t know, but what I know is that he is determined to be the best in a sport that doesn’t deserve him. I see a man that lives the life he wants to live, but doesn’t take what he has in his possession because he’s scared to do so.”

Lewis brings a hand to caress Nico’s cheek softly with his thumb, eyes twinkling with interest.

“I want you,” Lewis says.

Nico brushes his lips against Lewis’ palm in response, refusing to break eye contact with him as he does. 

He feels himself falling. Feels his chest inflate like a helium balloon, it’s been a long time since Lewis has truly looked at him.

The feeling between them is light and easy, the distance from the past few years seemingly erased. Lewis has floated in and out of his life but has always found his way back to him. 

Nico feels himself being pulled by his thoughts when Lewis smooths his thumb over his cheek, a whispered question “Should we go?” 

He nods. 

They spend the rest of the day cosied up in Lewis’ home, watching the sun slowly fall over the Colorado mountains. Nico feels a sense of content wash over him that he hasn’t felt in years. 

It’s not like he didn’t expect it, but they seldom reach out to each other after Nico's impromptu visit to Colorado. Nico falls back into the family life and plans for his team in Extreme E whilst Lewis spends days pent up in Brackley focusing on the new Mercedes title contender, the W13. Nico expects him to thrash the grid after what went down in Abu Dhabi, for him to come back with a vengeance. He’s not the only one, most of the retired drivers assume the same.

But Mercedes fail to get the car right, and Lewis is fighting for podium scraps race after race. He’s forced to watch as the Red Bulls contend with the Ferraris, sitting on the sidelines in no man's land as his fierce rival from the season previously shows the strength of the RB18. If it’s rough for Nico to witness from his stance as a pundit, he can only imagine what Lewis is going through. 

The infamous porpoising that accompanied the new regulations bites Mercedes the worst, and Nico feels the helplessness of just watching Lewis struggle around the Baku street circuit. He and Viv watch in the silence of their home and his heart aches, knowing there’s nothing he can do from his apartment. It’s the first time since January that he reaches out to Lewis, messages him to see if he’s ok.

The lack of response from Lewis has him messaging Toto, then Angela, just so he can know that he’s okay .

He’s about four milliseconds away from pulling his hair out from the roots when his phone starts ringing. Practically flinging himself at it, Nico doesn’t check the Caller ID, he just hits accept. 

“Hello?”

“I hear you were worried about me?” Lewis’ tired voice comes over the speaker and he feels his knees go weak hearing him, a sigh of relief escapes him. Vivian eyes him anxiously from the kitchen counter where she’s making lunch for the girls tomorrow.

All he can answer with is, “Are you ok?” 

“I’ve been better, I suppose. This fucking car man, if Ange wasn’t here I don’t know if I’d be racing next week.”

Nico completely forgot that Canada was back-to-back with Baku, he had been laser-focused on Lewis fighting to pull himself out of the car. He remembers Vivian’s sharp intake of breath watching him try his absolute best.

“With the state you were in earlier? Lewis, do you really think you can-”

“Yes, I can. I can’t just miss a race. It’s supposed to be better in Canada anyways, according to our simulations.” Lewis stubbornly says, a steely edge to his voice as though he’s been through this conversation already.

“I didn’t think this year would be so rough for Mercedes, though,” Nico adds rather unhelpfully. 

Lewis sighs out, “We had our suspicions in the winter break that it wasn’t going to be as good as any of our previous cars but with Abu Dhabi, we wanted to convince ourselves that wasn’t the case. The cost cap too just limits what we can work with.” 

“It just sucks.”

“Yeah, you think?” Lewis sarcastically adds and Nico smiles to himself. 

“Thought I would add my incredibly well thought-out observations,” Nico replies. Lewis chuckles deeply and it vibrates through Nico, a warm tingle shoots through him at the noise.

“It’ll get better, we’re working on some stuff and Toto is pushing at the FIA to do something, he’s gonna try and get through to the other team principals in Canada.” Lewis doesn’t sound too sure, but neither would Nico if he was putting his faith in the FIA and Christian Horner to make significant changes.

“Shouldn’t be too hard, other teams are also suffering with the porpoising.” 

“No one is going to want to give any teams an advantage though.”

“Even if the porpoising is putting the driver's health at risk?” His voice rises at that, Vivian coming over to rest a delicate hand on his shoulder.

Lewis can’t find an answer to throw back so they sit there, the only thing that Nico can hear is the Monegasque streets and Lewis’ pained breaths over the speaker over the phone. 

Vivian’s moved now, situating herself beside Nico.

“It’ll get better.” He lands on. Nico’s saying it out loud to almost convince himself. 

It doesn’t.

Nico doesn’t have any time to acknowledge what Lewis’ response is because Vivian is taking the phone out of his hand. Stunned, Nico’s speechless as she slips onto the balcony, whatever she and Lewis talk about is muffled by the closed doors.

“What was that about?” He says the moment Vivian steps back in, soundlessly returning the phone to its owner.

“Wanted to see if he’s okay and if there’s anything I can do when he’s in Monaco next,” Viv says as if it’s usual for her to lend a helping hand to their neighbour.

“Why would you even-”

“Because, Nico, you two might’ve been on some torrid stand-off for half a century but me and Lewis did actually stay in contact these last few years.”

“And you never told me?”

“Did I have to tell you?” She retorts, perfect eyebrow raised. 

Nico’s fighting a losing battle, he knows she’ll kick his ass so he surrenders, “Ok, fair enough.”

“He’ll be fine, Nico.”

“I know, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“Indeed it doesn’t.”

Nico repeats her remarks to himself, “He’ll be fine.”

And when Lewis is on the last podium place in Canada, Vivian smiles at him over Alaia’s head as if to say ‘I was right.’

God help him if he ever found himself on the receiving end of a united Vivian and Lewis.

“I don’t like him,” Nico says, just after they’ve come off for a break after discussing the George vs. Lewis debate. He’s walking down the tight Monegasque paddock with Jenson, thoughts trailing on the current Mercedes lineup. 

“Who?” Jenson asks, his eyes focused ahead to someone heading their way.

“Hey Nico, Jenson!” Seb starts with, joining them as they continue walking - it’s his first appearance in the world of Formula 1 since Abu Dhabi last year.

Nico resumes, “George.”

“What about George?” Seb questions. 

“Nico doesn’t like him.” 

Seb's steps falter, then he nods pensively in agreement, “Yeah, you know what? I can see that.” 

Offended, he awkwardly squawks out, “ What does that even mean?” 

Jenson says it in a way that Nico can’t justify his own actions, “You fight for Lewis Hamilton on live television like your life depends on it. You also bring up the fact that you two were teammates like you’re being sponsored to do so. And let’s be real, George Russell is probably the only teammate that threatens your place as Lewis' greatest competition in a teammate.” 

“In one way or another.” Seb breathes. Nico fights the urge to whack him around the back of the head.

“Yeah, well we’ve known each other a long time, since we were 13 years old. Sue me if I use that knowledge when asked.” Nico defends weakly. 

Jenson grins, “Well you and Lewis are just… different- I don’t know, not even drivers like Albon and Russell know each other like that.” Seb glances worryingly at Nico, as if asking ‘does he know?’

“Can we change the subject now?”

“What? We’re not on air so you don’t want to talk about Lewis?”

“Jense, come on, you know it’s different.” 

Nico has never been more thankful for Sebastian Vettel.

“Ok, ok- so who do we think is…” Nico tunes him out when he spots Lewis in the corner of his vision. He’s glowing, a symphony of colours against the dreary landscape of the paddock. When Lewis catches his eye Nico makes a pathetic wave in acknowledgement, Lewis smiling back has Nico slipping further into thought.

It’s when he gets home later that day that Vivian teases him about Lewis over dinner, the children just out of hearing distance to comprehend what they’re discussing. He feels a weight lifted off of his shoulders, knowing that he can talk to her about them, that it isn’t as awkward as it should be. How do you explain your complicated relationship with your ex-best friend turned rival turned stranger turned kind of lover? With your ex-wife of all people? He sends a silent prayer to God for the wonder that is Vivian Sibold.

That night he falls asleep to the memories of long days in Colorado, darkened eyes and gentle hands captivating his mind. His subconscious goes further, warping his mind to think of the future he wants for himself, falling further into the feeling of contentment from his dreams. 

When he wakes up his skin is clammy from a fading vision of Lewis and Vivian jokingly mocking him at the dinner table, his mouth dry. 

He checks his phone to see a missed call from Lewis and a few unread texts.

Lewis

hey, when ur up can u come upstairs for a bit? [9:59am]

Lewis

sooner rather than later x [10:01am]

Vivian grins from her place on the sofa when she spots him heading to the front door, it’s eerily similar to the teasing smile from his dream. 

Lewis’ front door is already unlocked but when he opens the door, it’s to voices from the kitchen. He panics then, he hadn’t thought Lewis would have company.

It’s George and Mick.

Nico forlornly looks back to the door he’s just walked through, hoping Vivian will message and ask him to go and buy the one specific fabric conditioner she uses because she’s run out.

Mick spots him first.

“Come on, George,” Mick says, tugging the Brit up by the shoulder, “Think we need to give these two a moment.”

Lewis doesn’t even turn to see who it is and now Nico’s wondering if he just used him to get the two out of his apartment.

Mick has a playful smile dancing on his lips (may God strike down Sebastian Vettel for getting too drunk and giving Mick a 3-hour crash course on ‘Brocedes’ , but that’s a story for a different time). In the meanwhile, George flashes him a perfect smile as he walks past and it takes everything in Nico not to trip him up on his way out. 

“Did you ask me to come up here because you wanted me up here or because you had George Russell and Mick Schumacher here?” Nico throws out jokingly as he moves to lock the door behind them. 

He draws closer to Lewis as his head throws back in laughter. “Look, I love both of them, but it truly is like having two golden retrievers on crack in my apartment.”

“Well, I suppose my job here is done then.” 

“Nah, come here. I wanted to ask you something.”

Nico sits as per Lewis’ request.

“What made you retire?”

Almost immediately something sour twists in Nico’s stomach, as if something is telling him he won’t enjoy the direction this conversation is taking. He doesn’t want to think about Lewis retiring, not now when he’s not winning. Lewis retiring now wouldn’t be leaving in the flamboyant style of Lewis Hamilton, and that just doesn’t settle well with him.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Lewis adds when the silence carries for too long, his eyes darting away.

“You’re not thinking of retiring, are you?” He questions. 

The answer he gets is not the one he wants to hear, “I don’t- I don’t know.” 

Nico can’t comprehend what Lewis is saying, the words don’t quite sound like him. Like the Lewis Hamilton he knows.

“You can’t retire, not yet. You haven’t won the-”

“There’s no guarantee I ever will, Nico. The car’s shit and I’m reaching the end of my career, whilst all these young drivers come up and show they’re worthy of a top seat. My seat.”

The words are falling out of his mouth before he’s able to stop them, “You’re being ridiculous, I think you forget sometimes that you’re Lewis Hamilton.” 

Lewis huffs at him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve never known you to fold. You will win the 8th.”

“You never gave up on pressing me to do better, did you?”

“What’s the point in stopping now?” Nico adds rhetorically.

There’s nothing else really to say, and Nico has no reason to stay. 

Nico halts at the door, can feel the way Lewis’ eyes are burning holes into him before he speaks, “If you really want to know, I left because I proved to the world that I could be a World Champion. There wasn’t anything else for me to do after I won because I knew you’d come back stronger the next year out... and I fucked myself over too much to win in 2016 and I wasn’t putting myself or those closest to me through that again.” 

He can only hope that he got his point across to Lewis. 

Nico smiles to himself when Mercedes announces Lewis’ contract extension in August.

Nico

So you decided to stay a little longer.

Lewis

let’s say i took some time to think over it

Lewis

and i had some mild words of encouragement from someone

Nico

Well, will you give me a heads up when you decide enough’s enough?

Lewis

of course

They’re 41, when Lewis announces his retirement.

Nico has grown used to hearing about Lewis’ racing announcements through the media.

“Tell me about it,” Nico says the moment Lewis picks up the phone. Not since Abu Dhabi five years ago has Lewis left a phone call from Nico unanswered, always picking up after the second ring.

“What do you want to know?”

“The ‘Greatest Of All Time’ is retiring and you expected I wouldn’t call about it. Why now?” It could be incredibly early to ask. He checks the time difference, Lewis is only a few hours behind in Mexico and it is evening in Monaco. Nico feels as though he’s losing his last genuine reason to still be attached to Formula 1, with Lewis deciding to leave. He had won the race in Mexico - George and Max’s retirement early on had contributed to his fighting chance at clinching the WDC in front of the Brazilian crowd as he had done almost 20 years ago. 

“Is the ‘Greatest Of All Time’ all I am to you?”  Lewis' amused tone is quite obvious over the phone.

“What? Do you want me to say I wanted to check in with the man that I love to see why he’s retiring now?”

“I'm sure that would be an interesting segment to watch on Sky!”

“Lewis!”

He hears Lewis’ deep chuckle before his voice takes a serious turn, “Alright, alright. I’m a step away from winning my Eighth World Championship, I’ve no reason to hang on anymore. I’m tired, of all the travelling, of this sport and the following scrutiny. I haven’t lost the drive but I’ve almost done what I set out to do, I have made history and now I’m ready to just live my life the way I want to.”

Nico ponders over his words, thinking about the first time he had heard about Lewis getting the McLaren seat when he first saw him in Brackley. He remembers holding Lewis when he failed to win the title in 2007, telling him that it would be his time soon enough. All the highs and lows of Lewis’ career, from his jubilant glee at winning his equalling seventh title to the helplessness of seeing him struggle to get out of the W13 in Baku. 

“Hmm…”

“Hmm?”

“Might be time to hang up my infamous pundit boots.”

Lewis laughs, “Always the one to make it about yourself, people will talk. They’ll say you’re obsessed.” 

“I am obsessed, can you blame me?”

A comfortable silence settles, Nico’s sure that if he could see Lewis’ face he’d be mocking him for his speechlessness. 

“Nico?” Lewis says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“You’re coming to Brazil, aren’t you?”

It reminds Nico to check his emails to see if his flights have been confirmed, “I’m scheduled to, why?”

“I want to see you.” 

2016 Nico would be mocking him, saying he’s lying.

2026 Nico is stumbling over his feet in love.

Lewis hears the familiar click of the hotel room door open. It’s been a long while since he’s been in the same room with him, so he continues scrolling through his twitter feed before Nico nudges his foot. He decides to be a little shit and carries on ignoring him until Nico shoves him harshly enough to knock him off of the settee.

Nico’s smile twinkles until he’s folding over with laughter. Lewis can’t help but laugh with him.

“Hey,” Nico says, voice soft and gentle. He relaxes himself onto the bed as Lewis stands up off of the ground, settling himself next to Nico. They just listen to each other's breaths for a fleeting moment before Lewis replies, 

“Hi.”

“You wanted to see me?” Nico starts. He sounds unsure, an underlying feeling of nostalgia sticking to each word. 

At least he hasn’t forgotten how they spent the night before Lewis won his second title.

He wants the person who was always in his corner when it felt as though everything was going against him, he wants Nico to hold him like he did all those years ago when he won his first title. Lewis shakes himself out of it, he's thinking of the past when he should be thinking of the future, of his record-breaking eighth world title. 

He finds himself wanting to tell Nico about how he feels about him. Wants to tell him about the feelings that have been lodged in his heart ever since he could remember, long before he realised in an Australian hotel room in 2008.

“Lewis?” he questions, reaching out to grab his hand. Nico’s hand is cold and clammy, but Lewis finds that he doesn’t mind. He swallows, squeezes lightly. It’s been far too long since they’ve remotely discussed anything like this and Lewis is tired of running away from his feelings. 

“Do you remember when we went out after our podium in Australia? In 2008?” Lewis starts, looking up at Nico through his lashes. He blinks, eyebrows furrowing lightly in an attempt to remember. 

“Yeah, I guess. Vaguely really, I don’t remember much of the night out - it’s more of a blur really? I remember waking up to you on the phone to Nicole.” Nico laughs. 

Lewis looks down at their joined hands, remembering the day like it was yesterday.

“It’s the day I realised I loved you.”

Nico sucks in a breath, fingers tightening painfully in Lewis’ grip. Lewis briefly wonders if Nico is remembering when he confessed to him in Abu Dhabi, “Tell me.”

“We had gone out, I had lost you in the crowd so I started talking to Glock. He left just as you pulled me away. You were dragging me to the toilets when you kissed me out of nowhere. I was kinda shocked, you know? I wasn’t drunk enough to forget that we were in public, that you were with Viv so I pulled away and brought us back to your hotel room. You begged me to stay so I stayed because it was you, and drunk you is just a danger to society so I stayed. Then you said you loved me, and I think that’s the moment that did it for me.

“When I woke up, I saw you just sleeping on top of me and my heart flipped in my chest and I didn’t know what was happening. It was when I was getting in the shower and I remembered what had happened that night and it scared me shitless, Nico. I realised that I was in love with my best friend - and it wasn’t like it just happened overnight. I thought about all the times when you told me about a girl you liked, or when you were talking about Viv like she had recreated your entire universe by hand - I realised it was jealousy but not because I didn’t have that but because I couldn’t have you.

“You were my best friend, the one constant in my life that I could rely on, and I couldn’t lose you. It was then I knew I couldn’t tell you, I didn’t think you could love me back in the same way so I kept it to myself. I couldn’t believe I was keeping this from you but I had to - I was in love with you, and I couldn’t do that to us because I thought it would destroy our friendship.”

Nico is still and silent, eyes just looking into Lewis rather than at him. It unnerves him slightly, but he’s not judging Lewis. Lewis refuses to look up and see the way Nico is taking him apart in his mind. 

The hand holding Lewis’ brushes over his tattoos briefly before the other is tilting Lewis’s chin up gently.

“I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

“Don’t– it’s nothing to worry about. Honestly, looking back at it now, me rejecting the possibility you loved me in China was because I had buried my feelings for you. I shouldn’t have and it was incredibly shitty of me, so I’m sorry about that.”

“I forgive you.” 

They know that he forgives more than just Lewis refusing to admit his feelings.

“I let you believe for years that I couldn’t love you like that. I went and fucked my way through supermodels and singers and god knows who else to try and get over you. Nicole had a suspicion in 2015 that it was you but I refused to tell her, it wasn’t for her to know. I could handle all the one-night stands and them leaving when we got bored of each other but God , how much time have we wasted? All because I was an idiot.”

“I’d say we’ve shaved off a few years, but I think it was for the best.”

The silence takes over as Nico mulls over his words. Lewis trails his fingers to his wrist and cradles it where Nico's watch sits delicately. The time reads late but he’s not due to arrive at the track until the afternoon. 

“When I told Viv, she helped me move on. I mean, she already had her suspicions because I always looked at you differently compared to others, even compared to her. She helped me move on from you then but she always knew I still loved you. We were happy in our own way but we just evolved into friends.

Seb came to my trailer after I told you in China, and I told him I loved you. Actually, in the Sebastian Vettel way, he guessed that was what I told you and deduced-”

“Now that you mention it, that sounds about right for Seb,” Lewis interrupts.

Once, Nico would’ve been extremely jealous of Sebastian and his closeness with Lewis. Knowing what he knows now, he’s not too concerned about the retired German driver.

“What was going on with you and Seb, anyway?” Nico inquires. He hasn’t quite forgotten Spain 2011, and he doubts that Lewis has too.

In fact, he knows Lewis didn’t because he covers his face with his other hand, “Oh god.”

“We had fun during those years. We’d win a race and celebrate it. In Spain you caught him leaving just after one of those… escapades , you might say. It was nothing but us playing around. Look, I needed someone who understood this life but wasn’t going to plaster the whole ‘Lewis Hamilton is Bisexual ’ all over the media. Who better than Sebastian Vettel?”

“Didn’t realise Seb swung that way.”

“He swings both. Anyways, enough of him - What were you saying?”

“Seb said to me " Since when do we get what we deserve?" and that stuck with me? Because I wanted you, more than you could imagine but in that moment I knew I would never be able to have you. I always thought that Niki knew as well.”

“Niki knew because I told him. I told him basically everything that day. From Australia to my sexuality to what you said, he- he didn’t seem shocked and I don’t know if it’s because our rivalry ran deeper than most but Niki didn’t care, as long as we didn’t destroy the team.”

“Well, that turned out marvellously,” Nico mocks. They can’t help but laugh at it now.

“But still, I think I always knew but I just didn’t see it. From our holiday in Greece to those moments early on in F1 and everything in between. I always knew that I loved you, I just did nothing about it.”

He watches Lewis intently, the way his cheek twitches. “Say it .” 

“Say what?”

“Say it to me properly.”

Nico’s blood rushes.

“I love you.”

He kisses him as if the world was ending, and Nico feels complete. He feels almost two decades of missed opportunities and stolen glances through the moment of one kiss. It’s familiar, it feels right as Lewis moves the hand cradling his wrist to cup his cheek. Nico feels like he’s arrived home, losing himself in the sweet taste of Lewis. His fist grasps the Mercedes shirt that Lewis is wearing as he threads the other hand through Lewis’ braids. It’s soft and slow as he tugs Lewis closer to him - it’s the one piece of the puzzle that has been missing all of his life.

When they pull away from each other it feels as though an eternity has flown by. They share a secret smile, and their hands find one another again. Nico thinks about all the time they had before this, how much lost time they have to make up. It’s fine , he thinks, they have all the time in the world now. 

Lewis lets himself just live in the moment. A moment that even fate would say is long overdue and he just revels in the feeling of it. Nico is his . In this room, there are no expectations. It’s just Lewis and Nico, it’s just the two of them in some Brazilian hotel room.

There were no more hypotheticals, Nico sat directly in front of him and the smile that graces his face is the one that Lewis remembered was once reserved for Vivian. It’s now his to revere.

Lewis promises himself there and then, seeing the love-struck look on Nico’s face, that he’ll fight for him. Everything else matters little to him now, he refuses to go months or years without Nico again. There’s no title to fight over, for them to destroy each other over. He looks at Nico and sees more than just the present but also the future. And, it’s not like ten years ago when he would’ve seen a dark and dreary path with no possibility of reconciliation. He sees happiness. He sees early mornings in London and sunsets in Monaco. It makes him think of those nights after Abu Dhabi in Colorado, where Nico pressed him gently into the sheets and took him apart slowly. That’s his future now.

It’s late when they go to bed and Nico curls himself into Lewis, tucks his head into his neck and places a soft kiss on the ‘God is Love’ tattoo there.

In the darkness of the hotel room, Lewis says in a hushed tone, “I think you got what you deserved.”

Nico recognises the callback to what Seb said to him all those years ago, and he smiles against Lewis’ skin when he replies, “I don’t think you have.”

Confused, Lewis pulls himself closer to Nico, he whispers into the crown of his head, “And why’s that?”

“The weekend is not yet over.”