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There is a mess on his couch. A mess that should currently be a 2 hours drive away, getting ready for a wedding.
“Please." - Seb says in a whisper, face hidden behind his hands - "He won't listen to anyone else. Not even Dan."
And yes, he knows that. He knows because Daniel has been blowing up his phone for the past week asking for the exact same thing Seb is: talk some sense into Lewis.
The words that have been his mantra recently are on the tip of his tongue - there's nothing I can do - but he just closes his eyes instead and sighs.
"Stop it. Sort yourself out. I'm going for a run and then we'll speak about it again once your head is clear."
He skips a step each two all the way down to the garage.
___
He arrives that the ceremony has yet to start. Turns out the 2 hours were not calculated on an average speed of 170 kmh down the narrow roads of the South of France. He turns the engine of the Porsche off and catches a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. What are you doing? He breathes in and steps out of the car.
___
The venue is lovely, if you like those impersonal, pastel colored themes straight out of a 14 year old pinterest feed. He skirts around the edges, hoping to pass unobserved. He fails spectacularly. Hands grab him before he has even completed a full round of the perimeter and he finds himself being dragged behind the chapel.
“Luojan kiito! You are here.”
He presses himself against the warm red bricks of the church wall, hoping they’ll swallow him whole. “I don’t know what you people expect.”
Val and Kimi look at each other.
“Just try” - Kimi says - “Try and, for once, let him get to you.”
They manage to sneak him into the private section because it’s Kimi and he always get what he wants. It also helps that Daniel is keeping people busy trying to cover up the fact that the best man is not there. He wonders if he should tell them that he left him crying on his couch in Monaco. He wonders if Kimi knows, he always seems to when it comes to Seb.
“Stop stalling. Et tule olemaan kunnossa” - Kimi tells him and it shouldn’t be reassuring but it is. He looks at the door with the shiny plaque spelling ‘groom’. No, he is not going to be fine. He goes in anyway.
___
Even at the sound of the door opening, Lewis does not turn around, caught as he is in trying to close his cufflinks. His fingers are shaking and he is miserably failing.
“Man, I’ll be a moment. I promise.”
“Oh, take your time. She looks lovely, by the way. I am sure she is a nice person too. I wish you all the best: you’ll be very happy together.”
This time Lewis whips around, eyes wide. “How the fu... what are you doing here?”
There is no good answer to that - he has been asking himself the same thing - but he has come too far to give in now. Story of his life, really. He steels himself against Lewis’ murderous stare and presses on. “I mean it. I am sure she’ll give you all the love in the world. You’ll be the happiest, more fulfilled couple ever. You especially. She definitely has all the attributes you look for in a perfect partner.”
There is a beat of silence, Lewis looking at him like he lost his mind then a familiar expression washes over his features. Lewis’ rage has always been an ugly, incandescent mess of a thing. A river of molten anger burning everything in its path, including Lewis himself, spilling over unchecked once the dam broke.
“What the fuck are you doing, Nico?”
“Reverse psychology.” - Nico bites out - “Maybe if I approve of it, you’ll actually do the sensible thing and walk away before you do something you’ll regret.”
“You don’t know what you are even talking about.” - Lewis seethes - “What have they even told you? That she is with me only for the money? The fame?”
“The big black dick? Oh, wait. That’s the issue, isn’t it?”
Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to say. Nico stumbles back as the box of the cufflinks flies by his head, hitting the wall behind him.
Very mature, Hamilton. Going to wreck the room again? - there they are, again, words that hurt, right there on the tip of his tongue. It was a mistake to come here, Nico thinks as he bites down on them. It’s all a bloody mistake.
“I am serious, Lewis.”
The bottle of cologne follows the same fate as the cufflinks box but, this time, Nico refuses to move. It shatters against the wall, glass and scented water flying everywhere. The smell is nauseating, overpowering. It crowds the room, making Nico gag as it seeps through the back of his clothes.
“I am serious.” - he repeats, as his eyes close on instinct. It will probably be a shoe next.
Nothing comes.
When Nico risks cracking his eyes open, he finds Lewis’ face too close for comfort.
“Why are you here?”
“You are making a mistake and you won’t listen to anyone.”
“No. Nico. Why are you here?”
“Because I love you. And you are making a mistake. And you won’t listen to anyone else.”
For a long moment, Lewis says nothing. Then slowly, almost as if reluctantly, he shakes his head.
“Nah, man. You don’t. You don’t love me.”
“I do.” - Nico says because it’s true, it has always been true - “I do love you. Even if it’s not the way you want me to.”
___
It’s a temporary truce or a moment of madness that finds them sitting side by side on the floor, shoulders against the wall and legs stretched out in front of them. It’s kind of funny - ironic maybe - Nico thinks staring down at their feet. He is wearing a pair of beat up running sneakers, the first pair of shoes he could grab. Lewis, who used to routinely scavenge Nico’s luggage for clothes when his family did not have enough money for a check in baggage, is wearing a pair of Armani shoes worth around $2000 each. Nico had never minded or really given any thought about the clothes when they were younger. It was just a thing they did. He wonders now when it became a thing instead.
Without a word, Lewis bumps his foot into his and Nico sighs. They are running out of time.
“Lew, I wish with all my heart that I could love you the way you love me. The way you want me to. But I don’t. I just don’t. I can’t force it any more than you can with her, don’t you see it?”
Lewis is not looking at him, head down even as their shoulders stay touching.
“But you are the right one. You are not the one who...who…”
“Who is gay? Who is black? Who will go to Hell?”
There’s no answer.
“Well, you know what I am also not? A 6-time world champion. One of the greatest drivers who ever lived. The first of my people to get there .”
“God, yes. That you are really not.”
Nico tries to smile - it’s a joke, a joke he walked into it. It’s progress?
“And even if you weren’t any of those, you’d still have people who love you. You have people who love you, Lewis. Love you for the true you."
Lewis is looking at him now. His head is still down but his eyes are on Nico and Nico finds himself holding his breath. He is not sure they have actually looked at each other since 2015.
“I am not making this up, Lewis. I am not going to say your sexuality doesn't matter because it does but it should matter only when it comes to your happiness.”
There is a breathless moment where Lewis’ eyes blur, where his face opens up and Nico thinks maybe, just maybe. Then it’s gone, the rage coming back and Nico realizes he won’t have time to brace himself, that whatever is coming is going to hurt.
“It's kind of rich coming from you, don't you think? Stop lying, Nico. You have never wanted anything good for me in my entire life. You’ve never even understood what having a dream or pride or an actual fucking identity means. You are not really German, you are not really Finnish. You are not really anything . Just get the fuck out of my life.”
___
He ends up back in the car, somehow, through the blur of tears. He is not even sure why he is crying. Lewis has said much worse things and meant them a lot more than he did anything directed at Nico today. Maybe it’s just that Nico cares and Lewis’ rage is all the proof that he is not happy. That he is not making this choice for the right reasons. Nico remembers his own wedding and how he thought his heart might explode in joy. It’s not fair to Lewis not to experience that. It’s not fair to her, whoever she is. And then there’s Seb, crying on his couch. Kind Seb who is one of the best things that ever happened to Lewis, who is in love with him even though Lewis won’t even consider him, consider giving them both a chance at happiness.
Why must it be so fucking complicated? - Nico thinks, resting his head on the steering wheel, trying to force the sobs back down. God, why can none of us manage anything good without it hurting so fucking much?
There’s a knock on the window. Nico’s head snaps up, realizing only a moment too late how much of a mess he must look like. It’s only Toto and Nico breathes , rolling down the window.
“That was brave.” - Toto says, watching with a raised eyebrow as Nico tries to wipe away the trails of tears with the back of his hand - “Brave and suicidal. Still don’t know when to quit, do you?”
It’s meant in a kind way, Nico knows, and he feels guilty when it just makes him burst into tears again.
Toto sighs, handing him the fancy handkerchief that had been in the breast pocket of his suit.
“Send me the bills for the speeding tickets. And breathe, Nico. For better or worse, I think it’s really over now.” For a moment, Nico thinks he might cry too.
___
He has almost put himself together, sitting straight into his seat, shirt sleeves rolled up and his blazer folded neatly on the seat next to him, when the passenger door flies open. Lewis is in a t-shirt and sneakers and he sits on Nico’s neatly folded blazer and slams the door behind himself.
“Just drive.”