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Entertain me, was what Nico had demanded of his TV two hours earlier, as he switched it on in order to watch the first race of the season. In July. What a mess this year has been… And he regretted it just a few laps in.
He felt sorry for Max’s team and for the Dutchman himself, too, although he’d never admit that to his face. Then Daniel retired from the race and Nico opened a bottle of beer.
Good to see, the car’s still a petty bitch, he thought and clucked his tongue.
At least Daniel and Max could both sneak off now and watch the race together and in private, masks offering enough of security and disguise to make it possible – and keep it that way, as Nico was very much aware of, not just thanks to Daniel’s rather freely given insight into their relationship.
Nico was happy for them, he really was, but he also was jealous as fuck!
Because he was here, seated on his couch, doomed to listen to the stupid blabber of German commentators.
Because he was here and couldn’t smell the fuel, the tire rubber, the hot asphalt.
Because he was here and not there.
He told himself not to look for the black and white car and failed ingloriously. He liked the black and gold one better, the colours fitted way better, but… He shook his head and took a sip from his beer bottle. The TV coverage was terrible, but Nico couldn’t bring himself to open a Danish broadcast on his laptop. He was desperate, but not that desperate.
Golden sunlight seeped into his Monegasque living room and Nico despised every last molecule.
He accepted Stroll’s retirement with a non-committed shrug and fetched himself another beer during the commercial break.
He returned to the couch and stopped still in the motion of flopping down on the soft fabric.
“Ach, das darf doch nicht wahr sein!”, he growled, as he saw a rather short driver with a bright red helmet climb out of his car.
His hand darted to his phone and it took him a moment to realise that it was hopeless.
What am I going to write anyway? “Pity, the car’s once again trying to kill you”? Not very uplifting. “Are you okay?” He apparently is… mostly.
The replay showed how badly the Haas’s brakes failed and the intake of breath got stuck in Nico’s throat.
“Good reflex.” He praised the TV, as Kevin tore the car around before it could hit the barriers.
And some people still persist you’re a bad driver…
Again he fidgeted for his phone, held it in his hand, while the camera showed the ongoing race, and contemplated sending a text. Just to let him know…
He put it aside. It was probably turned off anyway.
The truth was, he didn’t want to intrude. And he wasn’t sure what Kevin’s boundaries looked like at the time, so he didn’t want to take the chance of being turned down.
He muted the television and stepped out onto his balcony. Monaco was drenched in bright golden sunlight, coppery glittering buildings and brilliant white ships lined up in the harbour. The health crisis hadn’t affected the rich city as much as other parts of the world, but the tension and cautiousness was still palpable. Nico trained at home, face-timed his parents and delivery cartons piled up on his kitchen counter.
His dad’s business suffered immensely from the lack of incoming orders, his mother’s flower shop – a childhood dream she finally realised last year – had come crumbling down earlier in spring. Nico shuddered at the memory of bright red and yellow flower petals lining a one-way line to the trash can.
Remarkable, how many things faltered, had been destroyed and fallen into black decay, while others blossomed and bloomed – just as unexpected as the whole pandemic itself.
Kevin.
Nico turned away from the bright afternoon sun and followed the race out of the corner of his eyes.
Who would have thought that it’s Kevin… of all people.
He absent-mindedly turned the phone in his hand, although he’d already made up his mind.
Kevin was fuming, but he did know better than to point any fingers. Günther approached him with defensively lifted hands and Kevin waved him off.
“It can happen, don’t worry.”
“So I don’t have to be afraid, I‘ll have to renovate my office again?”
They both threw a quick glance at the replaced – and way more stable solid wooden door.
“Nope, I’ll behave. It’s just…” Kevin wiped his brow and almost peeled off the mask, which he quickly readjusted over his nose.
“Losing the brakes at that speed is just unfortunate.”
Günther contemplated Kevin’s words, eyes as sharp as a hawk’s and an unusual softness in the dark brown.
“Yes, I know, I know. I’m really sorry, Kev. This should never have happened. We’ll look at it right away so we can come up with improvements by tomorrow.”
After the disastrous season last year, Gene had demanded some real progress early on and there is little to no room for mistakes. The pressure, strange as it may sound, actually helped them build a team and find solutions.
And I’ve never been this fit physically and mentally, Kevin stated and smiled behind the mask.
Günther misjudged it as approval, but it didn’t matter. Kevin was just happy, he could leave the office with his head still attached to his shoulders.
Sometimes he’s a wild choleric and the next he’s your friendly papa bear… go figure.
He nodded at a few team members – physical contact still reduced to the absolute minimum – and made his way back to the hotel to get a shower a proper meal.
The sun started to set by the time he finally made it to his hotel room. The car ride was quick, but the security check was gruelling, as was the procedure of media work around the Grand Prix in general.
The organisation had shown great creativity in building fences and still manage to introduce some contact to fans and supporters.
During all the fuss, Kevin had waited for his phone to vibrate in his pocket, but it didn’t move.
Maybe he doesn’t even watch it, he thought and shook his head mentally. Of course, he does...
A tiny, but all the more effective and evil voice rises from a particularly dark void in his innards – darker still than the fear of not being good enough and failing as a human being, pitch black.
Maybe he doesn’t care, you know?
But Kevin did know. Not with his head maybe, but he certainly knew that Nico Hülkenberg cared about him. Whether he himself wanted to admit it or not.
We’re so terrible at feelings.
Maybe not feeling things, but talking about them. They both weren’t huge talkers, Nico even less than Kevin. They kind of stumbled into all of this, heated arguments and hot kisses, icy stares and cold hands on bare skin. The only thing they’ve ever established between them was utter secrecy. Maybe because it might be over next week, maybe because they were both scared… or scarred from the past. Maybe both
Kevin shook his head, undressed and entered the bathroom.
“Enough with the brooding. The world wasn’t built on maybes!” he scolded his reflection in the large mirror and dishevelled his dark blond hair. “Could have texted him yourself, coward.”
He turned on the shower and soon the monotonous dabbling of water and hot steam drowned out his thoughts.
Kevin spent the evening turning his phone off and on again. He’d watched a terrible soap opera on the Austrian television. He had thought, it would create some kind of connection to Nico, but the Austrian accent is completely different to the soft and clean western German pronunciation.
He’d read some articles online and replied to a few mails from his coach and manager.
At first he’d been composed, then (as he realised it was fake and he was antsy beyond imagination) he’d waved between being angry at Nico for not calling and at himself for not not-caring. It ended with Kevin staring out of the window for an indefinite time and watching the sunset. Golden at first, then coppery and finally dark blue. He despised every dust molecule dancing through the rays of lights in front of his window.
He wanted to sleep, force himself to sleep, but it didn’t work.
He clearly did watch the race. He saw my accident. Why didn’t he just text, for fuck’s sake… I would have, if it had been the other way around…
The hotel’s own alarm clock showed past 2 a.m. and he contemplated going for a walk through the valley, when his MacBook chimed.
He darted across the room, picked it up, returned to the bed, punched the light switch way harder than necessary and blinked into the dazzling bright screen. He hit the “answer call” button, before his eyes could get used to the blinding white Skype chat window.
The screen turned black again and for a second Kevin wondered if the connection failed, because he could see barely anything. Then a light turned on somewhere and Nico appeared on the screen.
Is he in a car?!
The light changed to a darker shade of yellow and Kevin could see nothing else but Nico’s tired face surrounded by blackness.
“Hey.”
“Hey?”
Silence. Something rustled on Nico’s end of the line and he craned his neck to sit more comfortable.
Where the fuck are you?! Where have you been?!
“You didn’t text me.”
“You didn’t either.”
It wasn’t an accusation, but more or less an expected comeback. They’d never been shy around each other, maybe once or twice in bed, but never with words and least of all banter. But as soon as the light settings on his laptop worked out the focus, he was able to see Nico clearly and he gulps. His eyes looked pale and tired, his hair was a mess (not even half a day in bed can ruin them this much) and he’s wearing the same shirt he did this noon.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry.”
They said it in unison and the microphones almost didn’t catch it.
“Rough day at the office, mh?”
Kevin felt the anger draining from him, as if he’d shower a film of sweat off of his skin. He snuggled into the pillow and rested the laptop on his stomach.
“You could say that, yeah…”
“How are you feeling?”
It made him smile. He couldn’t help it. A minute ago he’d wanted to march through Switzerland (neutral territory, my ass) and half of France to personally decapitate Nico Hülkenberg and with a simple question that idiot stole all his thunder.
Because he asked that question, the right one and the one no one had asked Kevin all day long. They all wanted to know, how he was, whether he was okay, whether he got hurt.
But no one asked, how he was actually feeling – inside and out. Until now.
He sighed and scratched his head.
“My thigh hurts. It’s been a rather tight turn in the gravel. And…” Nico nodded and Kevin saw it as a sign to continue. “It’s so fucking scary to lose the car like that.”
“The brakes failed completely on the straight, right?”
Kevin nodded and he realised it was Nico he’s talking to, the guy who hung upside down for ten minutes after a horrible crash, who’s cockpit burned and his succinct description “Something’s BBQ’ing in here.”.
Nico knows. Kevin sank even deeper into the cushion and sniffled.
“It’s just really fucking unnerving to end the first race like this. We kind of pick up exactly where we left off. Two DNFs and loads of technical problems.”
“That’s not true, Kev…” Nico said and he sounded almost as cautious as he sounded tired.
Then he illuminated Kevin’s screen with a wide and mischievous grin. “The car looked better last year.”
Kevin snorted a laugh.
“Yeah. Black and gold. Rich bitch, I get it.”
“No, it was elegant, it looked good on you.”
There was a small pause and Nico fidgeted with something below the camera’s field of vision.
“Where are you?”
“Do you want to surveil me, honey?”
Evasive, Hülkenberg, suspicious.
“You on a date?”
A very dark expression appeared on Nico’s face.
“Why would I be on a date?”
It didn’t sound like a question, it sounded like a reproach.
“Hey, calm down, it was joke…” and it could have been the case. No rules, remember?
“I’m not cheating on you.” It was almost inaudible over the constant static in the line. Kevin’s heart nearly tumbled out of his chest, when the words seeped through the speakers.
“Okay.” Was all, he could muster for an answer.
Nico smiled at him softly.
“Tell me more about the race. How’s the vibe in the garage? How’s everyone holding up?”
Kevin tried to calm down his heartbeat and readjusted the Mac on his lap, before answering.
“Well, we cut out the gold from last year and the black stayed where it is. The engine is rather shit, the stability is fickle. We’re inconsistency in the flesh.”
“Oh, come on now, that’s an exaggeration before the lord!”
Kevin chuckled, when Nico clucked his tongue disapprovingly. How much he wanted to crawl through the screen and dive into his arms... He hugged a pillow instead and shrugged clumsily.
Nico watched his gesture and felt himself smile at the sight. Kevin looked like a boy, whose parents had sent him to bed hours ago. Dishevelled, eyes rimmed, but very much awake.
“It’s not that bad…”
“Maybe, but it’s true, too. Sometimes at least. Sometimes it sucks so badly and I’m so sick of it all… I just want to qui-”
“Don’t you say that. Not you.” Despite the Skype delay he managed to interrupt Kevin’s tantrum and the Dane closed his mouth with a soft, snapping noise.
“Why? Because I at least got a seat? Is it that damned topic again?!”
“Yes, and we’ll talk about it again and again, until you finally get it into your stubborn head that you are in fact lucky!”
And until it doesn’t hurt me anymore sitting alone at home instead of being with you.
“It’s just…” Kevin stared at the ceiling and due to the video quality it was too bad to see, whether it’s because he’s searching for words or had to bite back tears.
“I miss you so much.”
And there it was, the elephant in the room, sitting on his thick grey skin in the corner next to the desk and blinking at them sheepishly. What they were was undefined, they’ve never talked about it and simply followed the urge to be near each other at any given chance. It’s been morphing into something different over the past few months and weeks, the quarantine taking its toll on and closeness away from them. A year ago they’d seen each other almost every weekend and keeping it all secret had been their biggest concern. Now they couldn’t even call each other without someone interrupting to disinfect the goddamn phone.
They made it work anyhow. It. The grey elephant in the room. Wouldn’t fit into a sewer anyway…
Nico smiled despite his rapidly beating heart. He was proud Kevin had admitted it first, always a step ahead as he’d been for over a year now – in real life at least.
“I miss you, too, you know?”
“Really?”
Nico chuckled at the honest surprise ghosting over Kevin’s face. And you honestly thought, I’d cheat on you without even calling it by the name.
“Is that my shirt…?”
There was a small pause and Kevin looked down at himself, shorts covered with the white duvet, but the dark blue shirt he’d picked out from the messy pile in his closet was in fact Nico’s. He’d packed it a week prior without thinking about it at all.
“Y-yes.” He breathed and the microphone of his MacBook almost didn’t catch it.
“Then there’s your reason.”
This time the pause was longer, because Kevin needed a moment to think it over and Nico refused to explain it to him. He was too tired and he’d mess it up anyway. They weren’t exactly inseparable, but they’re terribly bad at being separated.
“You’re with me. I’m wearing your clothes and I’ll come back to you, be it in a week or in December.”
I won’t survive another six months without you, was what Nico thought, but he was smart enough not to say it, it was only the tiredness talking and he didn’t want to drag Kevin down – especially when he seemed to be in desperate need of being picked up. That’s why I’m here, but…
“Yeah.” He said instead looked up and counted the brightly lit windows in front of him. “Listen, Kevin. I’m-“ parking in front of the hotel and ready to drive back to Monaco in an instant – or come up to you and kiss you senseless.
“You’re tired? You sure as hell look like it… I’d understand, if you wanted to go to sleep.”
The pure care in Kevin’s voice, the clear spark in his eyes was almost more than Nico could handle.
“No. I wanted to ask you something, but it’s a bit difficult to find the right words.”
He recalled the sensation he experienced on his balcony, almost ten hours ago: The golden hue, the warmth of the sun and the all-consuming need to be with Kevin.
He looked outside, his car a silver dot in the blackness surrounding the Alps, sharp grey stones covered in darkness.
He took all his courage, filled his lungs and let half of it escape again, before holding his breath.
Come on. You talked Max Verstappen into asking out Daniel Ricciardo. You can sort out your own damn love life…
But…
“Nico?” Kevin asked and the care gets accompanied by honest worry.
“Yeah, give me a second.”
He licked his lips, watched Kevin watch him and took another deep breath, held it and closed his eyes.
“Do you love me?”
Silence.
Fuck, I jinxed it. Again. Unbelievable.
When Nico dared to open his eyes, Kevin looked at him with furrowed brows and slightly parted lips.
“Why are you asking me that?”
That’s what you get, deflecting every question with a counter-question. It backfires, big time.
Nico’s thoughts raced through his head. He cursed himself for not writing it down.
Then he suddenly grabbed his phone and heaved himself out of the driver’s seat.
He heard Kevin mutter “So he is in a car…” and ignored it.
He crossed the parking lot, entered the building and waved off the receptionist greeting him with a broadly accented “Grüß Gott!”. Kevin didn’t hear it.
Nico stormed up the stairs and down a corridor until he reached the right door. He saw the number on Kevin’s key card the other day.
“Nico? What the hell are you doing? Hey…!”
Nico stared at the screen panting and now that he was standing in a properly lit hallway, Kevin’s breathing hitched.
“What-?”
Instead of answering, Nico knocked at his hotel room door. Kevin dropped the laptop, when the sound resonated through the speakers as much as through the door to his left.
Nico ended the call.
“Wha- How…?”
“I need to know.”
Nico paced through the room without looking at Kevin directly, who’s still the impersonation of confusion.
“I need to know, whether you love me or not. And not because I’m afraid you don’t, but because I’m afraid you won’t in the future.”
Kevin frowned and Nico licked his lips.
“Okay. Listen. Sometimes people say things, they don’t actually mean. We are the perfect example for that. Ball sucking and all. But I want this to mean something, because I do mean it, when I say that I love you, and I need this to be real. I couldn’t handle it exploding into my face in a couple of months. And being forced to keep my distance to you has been the – as masochistic as it may sound – right circumstance to think it over.”
Kevin followed his pacing as much as his monologue without moving a single muscle. He stood in the middle of the room like frozen solid.
“And I’m already scared of you falling out of love with me. I’m as scared about you leaving me as much as you loving me, okay? That’s how I’m wired, I’m a fucking deer in the headlight and you’re the only racing driver in the room at the moment. I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and not be in love with me anymore. I’m scared of you one day telling me you’ve stopped loving me after I’ve told you how much I love you.”
Nico felt himself welling up and he stopped still in front of Kevin, hands hanging limply by his sides. He didn’t dare to look at the Dane and into his big grey eyes.
“Because for me it will always be present tense, I will always love you.”
Silence sank down on them like a heavy blanket. The lamp on the night stand casted golden patterns onto the walls, keeping the pitch black darkness outside at bay. Nico’s heart galloped through his chest and he felt himself trembling.
Kevin swallowed and then he grinned widely, breaking the silence with a soft intake of breath.
“This is unfair. You prepared that speech and it’s unfair. You jumped the start, man.”
He took a step into Nico’s direction and lifted a soft and warm hand to his cheek.
“You don’t have to be scared. Because I am, too. And together there’s no need for fear. I probably can’t express it as well as you just did, but I am fucking panicking inside and I have been for months. I love sleeping with you, I love talking to you and maybe if you love to do enough things with a person, you love them, as well. But I was always scared, you might run from me, if I’d opened up an inch too much. As if letting you in was the quickest way to shut you out again.”
Kevin stopped for a moment and searched for Nico’s eyes. He found them and held onto them, as if his life depended on it.
What a strange turn this night had taken…
“I love you. I do and it won’t change, neither of us will change. I love you, Nicolas.”
A strange shudder went through Nico, from his toes to the top of his head and he clawed at Kevin’s shoulders to pull him into a tight hug.
“I know…” Kevin muttered softly, as he felt Nico tremble against him like a leaf during an autumn storm. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
And he did. He held onto him in the middle of the room, where golden light met black night. Where their fears collided and they realised they’ve dealt with the same one... The future and the past and themselves and society and everything in between.
In the end it didn’t matter, because Kevin tugged Nico in that night and cuddled up right next to him, their arms loosely intertwined.
It will become their ritual for the next forty years.
They just don’t know that yet.
And that’s okay.