Chapter Text
Well, at least this time he was having time to adjust and prepare. The news didn't hit him like a bombshell without warning. This time, he had been given advance notice, with room to process it and also the opportunity to share it with those who mattered before it became public.
That, at least, was a welcome respite. It wasn't that he was afraid of change—he was a pilot, after all, used to living on a constant roller coaster of adrenaline, pressure, and last-minute changes—but he didn't think he could handle another weekend like the one in Jeddah.
His phone vibrated on the table, and seeing the name on the screen made his heart skip a beat. He barely hesitated before answering, because of all people, he was the one he needed to hear from the most right now.
“Ollie?” The voice was firm, as always, but there was a hint of softness that made him relax immediately, as if his entire body was releasing an invisible tension.
“I’m here,” he replied, trying to make his voice sound carefree, even though he knew Kimi could probably notice the slight hesitation.
"Stai bene?" he asked bluntly, directly, as was his custom.
He smiled weakly, resting his forehead against the cold glass of the window.
“Yeah, well… you know. The usual. Adjusting,” he replied, trying to downplay it.
There was silence on the line, as if Kimi was thinking exactly what to say. But, somehow, the presence on the other end of the line, in that shared silence, was comforting.
“At least you got plenty of notice this time,” he finally said, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. “You don’t have to run around like crazy.”
The truth in his words made him laugh a little, one of those full of relief.
“Yes, I know. This time I had time to warn everyone, so you don't find out on the internet…” he murmured.
“And they're happy for you, aren't they?” he said it in a way that didn't seem like a question, but rather like a solid and confident statement.
He nodded, though Kimi couldn't see him.
"Yeah, sure. Everyone's happy… it's just that…"
"What?" The voice urged him on.
He hesitated, but knew there was no point in hiding anything. The Italian knew him too well, and if he didn't tell him now, he would probably drag him into a more intense conversation at some other time.
“It's just that… a part of me still feels like this whole thing could fall apart at any moment. You know? It's like everything is… too good to be true.”
Kimi let out a soft sigh, and he could imagine him resting his head on his hand, accustomed to this topic, thinking about his next words.
“Ollie… we’ve been over this before,” he said, his tone now low and calm. “What you’re achieving isn’t a stroke of luck. It’s not a passing thing. You earned it, with effort, with every damn race. Nobody gave it to you, and it didn’t fall from the sky. Do you know why you’re here?”
"Because I've worked for it," he replied, repeating the words as if they were a mantra.
“Esatto. You don't have to thank anyone for anything. This is yours,” he added, he could almost imagine him smiling sideways.
“Grazie, Kimi. I don't know what I would do without you,” he finally said, with a sigh of relief.
“You’d probably go back to your old habit of underestimating yourself at every turn. But here I am, to stop you from doing that,” he replied mockingly, though Ollie knew there was truth in his words.
Kimi seemed particularly excited for him, especially as it would be a sort of initiation into Haas before 2025. It even seemed that at certain moments, Kimi was happier for him than he himself dared to be.
And it was true that sometimes the roles were reversed. During Formula 2 qualifying, he had been the one who couldn't contain his excitement at seeing Kimi move up the order, bursting into praise when he finished second. This was replicated by the Italian when Ollie finished Q2 in eleventh place (at least ahead of Hülkenberg). And, although somewhat disappointed at not being able to make it into Q3, the gleam of pride in Kimi's eyes consoled him a bit.
This situation was also repeated after the sprint race in which the younger driver finished seventh (even though he understood his teammate's subdued feelings in the latter case, he would act the same).
What a pair they were, more excited by the other's results than their own. Not that he was surprised, after all, they had been each other's main supporters all year.
Kimi appeared in the doorway with his hair still damp, dark locks messy, and the relaxed expression of someone who had just taken a hot shower and was ready for a leisurely rest of the day. They had both decided it was best to spend the night at Ollie's hotel, it was closer to the circuit.
“Aren’t you going to lock up?” he teased from the bed, watching him with a half-smile as he stretched his legs out under the blanket.
Kimi smirked and pushed the door open with his foot before crossing the room and plopping down on the end of the mattress.
“Are you ready for another night of drama on TV?” he asked, though there was an unusual glint in his eyes.
“Drama? More like a night of you critiquing scripts,” he replied, leaning against the headboard.
“Are you okay?” the Italian asked directly.
“I’m fine,” he answered quickly, but Kimi frowned, making it clear he wasn’t convinced.
“Sure? Because the grimaces I’m seeing say otherwise.” His tone was firm, but there was a protective tone that made Ollie look away.
“It’s not that bad, really,” he finally admitted, shrugging. “My body hurts a little, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, I know how to ease it. I’ll put something cold on tomorrow before I get in the car, and that’s it. Jeddah was much worse,” he tried to reassure him, evidently failing.
The initial relaxation in his features disappeared, replaced by a tension Ollie knew all too well. His jaw clenched and his fingers on the blanket twitched, though he quickly seemed to soften his posture.
“Jeddah was worse?” he repeated, his tone lower, but laden with something that made Ollie look up with some caution.
“Yeah, but there’s no point in worrying about it now,” he replied with a small smile, trying to divert attention.
Kimi leaned slightly toward him, placing a firm hand on the mattress, as if he needed to anchor himself. His gaze, intense and fixed on his, caught him completely.
“I don’t like finding out about these things months later, Ollie,” he said, his voice still calm, but with an edge to it that was impossible to ignore. He opened his mouth to protest, but Kimi caressed his cheek, silencing him gently before continuing. “You don’t have to handle it alone, I always tell you that. You should have told me then, I would have been there for you. You know that.”
He looked down, his smile now somewhat shy, knowing there was no way out of this conversation without accepting what he was telling him.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” he murmured, a slight hint of apology in his tone.
“Ollie…” Kimi exhaled slowly. “It’s not about worrying. It’s my choice to want to take care of you if something happens. You hiding things like that from me only makes me worry even more.”
“I’m sorry,” he finally murmured, lifting a hand to stroke Kimi’s arm, drawing circles on his forearm.
The Italian gently shook his head. “I don’t want an apology, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just wish you’d tell me when these things happen to you.”
The sincerity in the words was enough to make him nod slowly.
"I will. I promise."
Kimi watched him silently for a moment, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“You don’t have to wait until tomorrow. I have a cream that can help now,” he said, standing up before he could protest.
“Cream?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as Kimi dug through his bag.
“Yeah, cold effect.” He turned around with a smile, holding the tube like it was the solution to every problem.
Ollie hesitated for a moment, but then nodded with a small smile.
“Okay.”
“Perfetto. Take off your shirt.”
He laughed softly as Ollie carefully removed his shirt. Despite his attempts to minimize his discomfort, the marks on his torso spoke for themselves: small bruises and tense muscles that told the story of an exhausting start to the weekend.
Kimi’s brow furrowed at the sight, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Before he could say anything, Ollie lifted a hand, touching his cheek.
“Don’t make that face,” he said softly, his thumb caressing the skin. “It’s nothing serious, okay?”
The Italian relaxed his jaw a little, though his eyes remained fixed on the bruises.
“How do you prefer I position myself?” he asked, a smile trying to dispel the concern.
“Just sit down. I’ll move around.” Kimi dropped onto the bed with a sigh, opening the tube of cream.
He complied, crossing his legs as Kimi began applying the cream with firm but careful hands. The immediate coolness of the cream drew a sigh of relief, though he occasionally grimaced when the fingers pressed a particularly sensitive spot.
“Sorry,” the Italian murmured whenever he noticed, his voice low and full of genuine concern.
“It’s okay. You’re better at this than I thought,” he joked, though the warmth in his tone betrayed him.
Kimi didn’t respond immediately, concentrating on his movements, making sure not to push too hard.
“You don’t have to endure all this alone,” he finally repeated.
“I don’t. I have you, don’t I?” he replied, with a soft smile that made Kimi’s eyes soften.
They both fell silent as the younger continued, his hands carefully running over every tense area.
“Grazie, Kimi,” he murmured at last, as the other closed the tube and leaned back to admire his work.
“Sempre,” he replied, patting him lightly on the leg before smiling. “Now we’ll try to rest, orsetto. Make yourself comfortable.”
He nodded, quickly pulling on his shirt and lying back on the bed as Kimi turned off the light, lying down beside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Now, for them, it was.
Kimi slid between the sheets, careful not to brush his torso too much as he settled in. They were both silent for a moment.
“So, tomorrow from second position?” the Brit murmured, breaking the quiet.
“Yeah. It’ll be a good fight,” he replied, his tone casual, though there was a glint of excitement in his words that couldn’t be ignored.
“You’re sure to get a podium. Maybe even the win. The car suits Baku well,” he said confidently.
Kimi glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his smile slowly growing.
“You would have shone, like last year. The king of Baku.”
He let out a soft laugh, turning slightly towards the Italian.
“Don't exaggerate, Antonelli. You would be too much of an obstacle to score another two in a row.”
Kimi shrugged, that nonchalant expression that always made it seem like he wasn’t really trying to flatter, even though Ollie knew he was.
“I’m just telling the truth. There aren’t many who can match you here. But we could have had a PREMA doublet.”
He shook his head, still smiling, and leaned slightly towards Kimi, letting their heads almost touch.
“Thank you. But tomorrow is your time. I trust you will do incredibly well.”
Kimi looked down at him, and with a quick but gentle movement, he slid an arm around Ollie’s waist, pulling him close.
“And I trust you will do well tomorrow too. You will do great.” His words were simple, but there was something about the way he said it that made him feel invincible.
The Brit settled back against him, closing his eyes with a sigh.
“Thank you, Kimi. Good night.”
“Buona notte, orsetto,” he replied, planting a quick kiss on his hair before letting sleep claim them.
The room fell silent, broken only by the steady rhythm of their breathing. They both knew the next day would be intense, but for now, all was calm.