Chapter Text
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.