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It’s late at night, after the race, after the farewell party, and they’re all tidying up, heading back. Pierre is leaving the Alpha Tauri premises for what probably is the last time and next season he’ll return to a different team with a different teammate and different colors.
As he looks at Pierre saying his goodbyes and hugging some of the engineers, it all becomes too real for Yuki too fast.
Their eyes meet and Yuki feels caught, cornered, but Pierre’s eyes have always managed that feat. Pierre says another one or two words before he walks towards Yuki, who has been waiting for him since they are heading to Pierre’s together after this.
“Yuki,” Pierre says as he places a hand on Yuki’s shoulder, “are you okay?”
His hand is warm, a comfortable weight, and where every touch used to feel easy, it now burns more than anything.
Yuki doesn’t know how to express what he feels, not properly, and it’s not because of the language barrier for once. He ponders for a moment and mutters, “I don’t know. It’s- next year, things will be…different.”
A sad, pitying smile appears on Pierre’s face. “Well, different doesn't necessarily mean bad.”
“I know. I just- I’ll miss you.”
Yuki has said this before and he will probably say it again just over the course of this night, but the admittance never feels any less loud.
Pierre laughs, the sound painfully warm in Yuki’s ears, ringing there like a dodged bullet. “But it’s just like you said, you can come visit me anytime you want. Every race, you said. No?”
They both know that’s a lie. Even when they were in the same team, it was never really anytime. And later, when they are in different teams, it’d be even more so.
It’s not enough, Yuki wants to say, but instead he looks down, avoids Pierre’s gaze, and settles on, “it’s not the same.”
“I know,” Pierre mirrors his sad tone, his gesture. “I will miss you too.”
And Pierre’s admittance becomes the nail on Yuki’s coffin.
Yuki knows, knew Pierre would also miss him, to some extent, but he doesn’t think Pierre understands to which degree Yuki feels unreasonably hurt by this separation. He really wasn’t kidding when he said that he thinks that Pierre is his best teammate, despite the older driver being his first in F1. Deep down in his heart, he just knows that no matter who comes next to stand beside him next year or the years after that, that he will always be the best. It will always be that way.
It will always be Pierre.
As always, Pierre notices his distress. Because of course he does.
“Yuki.” Pierre’s hand on his shoulder squeezes down, like Yuki’s a squeak toy and Pierre wants him to make a sound. “Are you really that upset?”
Pierre looks sad too now, but it still seems so easy for him to ask that. Maybe because he doesn’t know what he’s trying to make Yuki admit.
“No, I-“ Yuki stops because he notices how shaky his voice sounds. Truthfully, he’s been holding back tears ever since they recorded the farewell video, but now the corners of his eyes are properly stinging. “I’m not. Upset, I mean. You told me about the decision long ago.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be upset now.”
Yuki sighs and pulls back from Pierre, the latter’s arms dropping to his side unceremoniously. Pierre clearly looks displeased, confused, because it’s so unlike Yuki to behave like this. To pull away instead of leaning closer.
“Maybe I am upset,” Yuki mutters. “A little bit. But that’s not the problem.”
Pierre’s eyebrows are scrunched and he manages to still look perfectly handsome anyway. “What is the problem then?”
Yuki has to look away again because Pierre’s eyes are on him and he’s displeased and worried and maybe mad at Yuki for acting this way and still as gorgeous as ever for no good reason other than Yuki’s demise and it’s all just too much. The reality that he might not be able to be with Pierre like this, just the two of them, talking through the good and bad, is somehow both sinking painfully slowly and hitting him like a truck. It almost doesn’t even matter that Yuki’s a mess of emotions right now and Pierre seems way too calm, like this isn’t as big of a deal as Yuki is making it out to be.
Like he doesn’t care.
“Yuki, look at me,” Pierre says, as if he read his mind and wants to prove Yuki wrong. “I- I do not want to end this on bad terms with you. Everything was going so well.”
It was, Yuki wants to scream. It was going so well, too well actually. And now you’re leaving. “The problem is- it’s me. I am the problem.”
Pierre looks even more confused now. “What? What do you mean?”
When Yuki doesn’t answer, he rephrases the question, “How do you mean that?”
“I- sometimes, I’m still like a kid. I have childish thoughts and wishes,” Yuki finally admits because at least these things, he feels like Pierre already knew. The next part is harder, but he pushes on. “I don’t want you to go.”
Those words hang heavy in the air. Yuki’s never said it out loud before, but he thinks Pierre knows that already. He must know. And after that comes out, it becomes easier to talk, the words spilling out of him like a waterfall. “Before today, before now, I knew you were going to go, but you were still here. You still came back here for every race, after every race. You stayed a little longer.”
“Now you are actually going,” Yuki whispers, as if not saying it out loud will make it less true. “Now you won’t come back here anymore.”
“Oh Yuki,” Pierre coos, his shoulders dropping a little as he begins to understand just how much this matters to Yuki, how much it’s affecting him. He looks like he wants to pull Yuki into a hug, but he doesn’t. “It's not like I am going far. You know I’m still on the grid.”
“It feels far,” Yuki mutters. “Fernando and Esteban always seemed far.”
And Yuki means that in many senses. Too many.
“Well I am not Fernando, or Esteban,” Pierre says, his new teammate’s name somehow sounding unfamiliar in his voice. It’s never been a name Pierre says a lot, if at all. Yuki wonders if- no, Yuki fears that someday it will sound familiar. That it will sound like the way Pierre says his name. It’s selfish and stupid and childish, but he doesn’t want that. Never wants that, even if it’s probably better for Pierre that way.
Yuki is thankful that Pierre can’t read his thoughts, because maybe he’d hate Yuki if he could. Maybe he wouldn’t be looking at Yuki all too sincerely while saying, “I will not feel far.”
“Yeah?” Yuki asks, his expression brightening up for a fleeting moment before it dims again. “I don’t know if I believe that.”
Pierre seems to have finally given in and decides to touch Yuki again, as he always does when they talk, when they are around each other, whenever. The older driver ruffles Yuki’s hair, pressing down slightly like he’s trying to erase the worries. “You should.”
Then Pierre nods towards his back, where Yuki’s name, his drawings, and the words “never forget me” are scribbled on his shirt, saying, “If this is what you’re worried about, I won’t forget you, Yuki. Never. Not you. Not the team.”
Yuki doesn’t know or understand why, but having Pierre’s hand on his head, hearing those words, it makes him feel so at ease. Maybe because it’s all so genuine, maybe it’s because it’s all so- Pierre.
His chest feels lighter already, so Yuki manages to sound steadier when he says, half-jokingly, half-serious (or rather, completely serious, but said like a joke), “I will cry, you know. If you forget.”
Pierre laughs and it gives Yuki butterflies, as it always does. “I won’t, I won’t, so don’t cry, okay? Everyone else will be sad if you are.”
There’s a pause and then Pierre is suddenly looking at Yuki again, with those bright blue eyes, all too sincere, all too honest. “I will be sad too.”
Pierre doesn’t hide much of anything from other people, but especially not from Yuki, so he knows that Pierre is telling the truth. But maybe Yuki doesn’t want to believe it. He is sad, despite everything, so he doesn’t want Pierre to be sad too.
“You’re just saying that.”
“I mean it, Yuki.” The hand on his head has moved on from ruffling his hair to giving him gentle rubs, Pierre’s thumb drawing circles on his scalp. It’s as intimate as they already often are, but this time every swipe of his thumb burns on Yuki’s skin.
Pierre’s hand stops for a moment when he looks at Yuki, smiling. “And seeing you happy makes me happy.”
For some reason, it’s that exact smile combined with those exact words that becomes Yuki’s last straw. The thing that finally makes him snap. That makes him forget all rhyme and reason and gives him too much bravery and emotions for his own good. It feels like a rush, it feels dizzying. Like every unspoken word, every held-back affection, every swallowed confession, every declaration of his adorations that never made it out of his mouth are all bubbling up to the surface of his consciousness and he suddenly wants to give Pierre everything all at once because he wants Pierre to be happy too. Because seeing Pierre happy makes Yuki happy and maybe if he can make Pierre happy they’d be in an endless cycle of happiness.
Just maybe.
Yuki hugs Pierre tighter than ever before and it’s all too sudden, too abrupt, but even if Pierre is surprised, he doesn’t mind. Before Pierre can even react, say anything, or even hug him back, Yuki buries his head into Pierre’s torso, into his T-shirt that’s not clinging on his skin for once. Then he hugs Pierre tightly, like if he does it hard enough maybe Pierre won’t have to go. Maybe Pierre will stay with him, just like this.
“Yuki, I-“
Yuki cuts him off. “Please. Let me do this one more time.”
“Yuki, you can hug me again later. Anytime. Always,” Pierre says, his voice gentler than Yuki thinks he’s ever heard it before. “Like I said, I am not going far.”
When Yuki looks up to meet Pierre’s eyes, there’s something in it that Yuki can’t describe. Something he’s always noticed, always tried to put a name to, but he’s failed every time.
Pierre smiles down at him. “Maybe we get a podium together next season, hm? I will squeeze the life out of you if we do.”
Yuki has to look away because they’re too close and this is too much and Pierre will notice the flush of his cheeks isn’t because of the alcohol, the heat, or the exhaustion if he doesn’t.
“I want to hug you everyday,” Yuki mutters, more to himself, but Pierre actually hears him loud and clear, even though he isn’t sure if he’s hearing the younger right.
Pierre knows that Yuki’s always been somewhat affectionate and he is the same way too. That’s just the way they are with one another, but Yuki’s never been this openly mushy.
Yuki is here and he’s too close and he’s saying all these adorable things, so a blush starts creeping all the way down from Pierre’s neck, but he can’t let Yuki find that out, so to make sure Yuki isn’t looking at him, he pulls Yuki closer to his chest, pulling the younger into an impossibly tight hug, somehow tighter than it already was before. He realizes that it might be a mistake because Yuki’s ear is right on his chest and he can probably hear the way Pierre’s heart is beating so fast that it’s threatening to leap out of his chest, but maybe Pierre doesn’t care anymore.
And maybe Yuki doesn’t either, because he just hugs Pierre back, hands gripping on the back of Pierre’s shirt tightly, no doubt crumpling it. But Pierre doesn’t mind. If it’s Yuki, Pierre doesn’t mind.
They stay like that for what feels like forever. And maybe Pierre wouldn’t mind if that were really the case. If it did stay like this forever.
He stupidly only notices that Yuki has been crying when the latter pulls back slightly and starts wiping his tears with the back of his hands.
Before Pierre can even say anything, Yuki beats him to it. “Shut up, okay? No making fun of me.”
“That was never the plan,” Pierre replies, a smile unreasonably tugging on the edge of his lips. He’s not happy that Yuki is crying, but he is happy that Yuki might care about him as much as he cares about Yuki. Maybe.
“I am sad to leave you too, Yuki, but I know we will still be able to see each other.” He adds, “Because if you don’t come visit me, then I will come visit you.”
Pierre is smiling, grinning even, and to Yuki, he’s so charming it’s not even fair. The older driver then jokingly says, “Besides, I have to get away from Esteban somehow, no?”
To Pierre’s dismay, however, Yuki suddenly, unexplainably looks frustrated. He shakes his head. “You don’t get it, Pierre. You never will.”
His forehead creased, Pierre asks, “Now what is that supposed to mean?”
Just when he thought it was getting better again, Yuki suddenly pulls this expression out of nowhere. Pierre is so lost. What does the younger driver even want from him?
Yuki is so incredibly frustrated because he just can't find the words. Pierre is treating this like a joke and he can’t find the words. “I want to be close to you a lot, Pierre. Like this. And not just a little. But I won’t be able to.”
When Pierre just looks back at him dumbly, Yuki has to resist the urge to hit him. Because how can someone be so oblivious?
“I like you,” Yuki says and he almost sounds mad. His voice is raised and he thanks the heavens that nearly everyone is gone, so noone is here to witness this. Maybe he is mad. Mostly at himself for confessing right now, like this. “And like I told you, it’s a girlfriend-boyfriend kind of feeling. Why do you just not get it? How can you not get it?”
Pierre’s only response for the first few seconds is just visible on his eyes, which are blown wide in surprise. The Frenchman's thoughts are running at unprecedented speed, memories and moments flashing before his eyes like he’s reliving the entire section of his life that Yuki’s been a part of. Oh. Oh so he meant it that time. Oh so he has always meant it all this time. So Yuki has always actually been flirting. Oh.
See, the thing is, they never really addressed it properly before, when they’re not on stage in front of an audience of hundreds. Yuki never elaborated on it. Pierre never asked.
So what Yuki is really telling him right now is that Pierre has been pining and holding back all this time for no good reason?
Charles, damn him, would say that this was a long time coming. That the signs were always there and that he always knew that he was right. That Pierre and Yuki like each other more than normal friends do and were just both too afraid to admit it. But Charles calls him an idiot about Yuki and ignores Carlos’ looks all in the same breath, so his opinion is invalid.
“Nevermind, Pierre, nevermind what I said. You’re an idiot. But I’m even more of an idiot, fuck.” Yuki looks like he wants to run away now, muttering, “Fuck, what have I done?”
“No, Yuki, hey, hey, look at me.” Pierre suddenly wants to do too many things at once, wants to laugh in relief because they are idiots, wants to comfort Yuki and wipe the regret off of his face, wants to cry, wants to be happy, be confused, all at the same time. But he settles on placing his hand on the side of Yuki’s face, to make sure that Yuki isn’t looking away when says what he says next. To make sure that he is clear.
“I- you never- you never told me you were serious, Yuki.” Pierre’s tone is as gentle as ever, but there’s so many different emotions bubbling in his chest. He doesn’t even know how to name or express them all. “I- I genuinely thought that it was all just a joke, for show, for entertainment. Why are you just telling me now?”
Yuki looks exasperated. Pierre thinks that the situation and Pierre’s words, his response, it all isn’t quite sinking in for Yuki just yet.
“Because this is the last chance,” Yuki says, voice shaking again. “If I don’t say anything now, I will never say anything at all. And we will stop meeting regularly and you will forget me.”
Yuki then adds in a quieter voice, “At least this way, maybe you will not forget me for some time. Maybe even for a long time. Maybe never.”
Pierre’s heart breaks for him. And for himself. Because he meant it when he said that he gets sad when Yuki is.
“Oh Yuki, I-“
Even with Pierre’s hand holding him in place, Yuki manages to look away. The younger driver sounds so pained when he says, “If you hate it, just say it and I will stop. If you said you hated it I would have stopped long ago with everything but you-“
“you never said anything.”
“Yuki, hey, chéri, look at me.” Pierre knows Yuki doesn’t know what the French means, but that’s okay. He’ll tell him, he’ll find out in time. And then he’ll say it so many times that Yuki will get sick of it. But he so badly wishes that he somehow already does understand that word right now, so he won’t look so hurt anymore.
“I didn’t say anything because you didn’t say anything. I thought I was the only one who felt something.” Pierre’s words are a jumbled mess, but he just wants to bear his entire heart out for Yuki to see, for Yuki to hear, for Yuki to understand. To make him realize that he’s not the only one who’s been pining, who’s been holding back. “Believe me, I wanted to say something, but I thought you were joking. I thought it was a cultural thing. Because we are different in some ways. We see some things differently.”
“I don’t joke with any of my friends like this,” Yuki complains weakly.
Amazingly, it seems like Yuki is so caught up in his own head that he still doesn’t understand what Pierre is getting at.
“How was I supposed to know that?” Pierre asks and he feels so light, so light that he’s almost floating. Because Yuki might not know where this is heading, but Pierre does, in fact, he will make sure of it. “I thought I was dumb for thinking too much of it. Because it seemed so easy for you to do it.”
Yuki is somehow still not getting it, he still looks upset. “It was easy because it was you. Because I want to. Of course it’s easy to do things I want to do. Like driving. It’s scary for people, but because I like it, it’s easy to do it. And I like you Pierre. Fuck, I like you.”
Pierre wants to laugh at Yuki for being the one that’s completely unaware now, because he feels bad, but they are not Pierre and Yuki if they can’t laugh at each other’s faults. And Yuki is so sweet, he’s saying such sweet things without even noticing and Pierre has to give it his all to hold back from declaring his love to him just a little longer.
Shaking his head, Pierre counters, “But you always do it in front of other people? In front of an audience. That’s why I thought it was all just for show.”
“I thought if I do it in front of an audience then I will have an excuse if you hate it. If you hate it, then I can say that it’s just for fun, for show.” Yuki then adds quietly, “but it’s not for me. It never was.”
Pierre can’t hold back anymore. All his love and admiration and adoration for this unbelievably amazing person packed in one tiny human being is just threatening to spill out all at once like one, great big wave.
“Yuki, you really are amazing. So amazing. Always so brave. Braver than anyone, braver than me. You-“
To his displeasure, Yuki cuts him off again before he can finish singing him praise to the high heavens. “Pierre, if you- if it’s not the same for you, then stop it. Stop this. I-“
“I- it is not exactly the same for me. I am- it’s not as easy for me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it.” Like a reminder, the cross on Pierre’s chest shifts on his skin, hidden under his shirt, but still there. “Yuki, I- I get so- so- ah, embarrassed is not the right word, but I always panic because I never know how to react to the things you do. To you.”
Yuki blinks once. Twice. “You don’t hate it?”
“Of course I don’t hate it, Yuki. You know I would have said something if I did. I am just that type of person.”
“Not hating is not the same like wanting. I-“
Before Yuki can argue even more and twist his words into any other thing in his pretty little head, Pierre makes it undeniably clear for him. Spells it out so there can be no mistake, not anymore, not after all this time. Not after these two long, fucking agonizing years.
“Mon Dieu, Yuki, how much clearer do I have to be?” Pierre then leans forward a bit, down to where his eyes are at the same level as Yuki’s. His back aches slightly, but he can’t find it in him to care. “Yuki, let me say this to you loud and clear; I want it. I have always wanted it. I just thought I was dumb for wanting it, for wanting more. With you. From you. For wanting you.”
Yuki, on the other hand, looks like he’s just been struck by lightning. It’s not often that Yuki finds himself at a loss for words, at least not with Pierre, but his mouth is currently agape, and Pierre has to hold back the urge to kiss his mouth shut just so that he can say, “I have always wanted you, Yuki. Always.”
And then Yuki unceremoniously makes a sound like he’s choking on air, ruining the mood a little, but Pierre doesn’t mind. It’s Yuki afterall.
“Am I finally clear now, chéri?”
“Fuck”, Yuki just says and it’s so out of place that it almost makes Pierre laugh. “Fuck. You are leaving and we are just now saying all this. We’re idiots.”
Pierre shakes his head and he can’t help but to smile because he adores Yuki so much he can’t even comprehend it himself. “Yuki, if this is- if you, if we want more out of this, we don’t have to just meet and spend time together on the grid. You know that, right?”
Yuki blinks in that adorable way again. Once. Twice.
“Right?”
“Oh. Oh. You’re right.”
This time, Pierre does laugh out loud. Because it really is like Yuki genuinely forgot that there’s a life outside of F1, for him, for them. That’s so typical of a driver, especially after a long, seemingly never ending season.
As he laughs fully, happily, contently, freely, Pierre’s hands move again to the side of Yuki’s head, combing his fingers through the strands of hair there affectionately. “You really are amazing sometimes.”
There’s a pause and Yuki looks awestruck again.
Just to ruin the moment because it is them, Pierre adds, “Amazingly stupid.”
Yuki flushes adorably (but Pierre has always known that). “Shut up.”
“Don’t worry, I still like you all the same, chéri.” Pierre realizes that he really is down bad. Three minutes into the confession and he already can’t stop using sappy nicknames for Yuki.
Thank god the younger doesn’t seem to understand them yet.
He continues stroking the side of Yuki’s head, reveling in how the latter leans into his touch, like he always has, and says, “We have time, you know. I will be on a different team but until then, we have months, Yuki. Months. To spend time together, if you want.”
“I want that,” Yuki responds all too quickly, eager. He then adds cheekily, “Get my fill before you leave.”
Pierre chuckles because Yuki is finally being more ‘normal’ again, less blushing and stuttering and more friendly banter. Not that he minds either version.
“Yes,” Pierre agrees. “I will still be around. And I- I will make time for you. And you will for me, no?”
Yuki nods and grins. “Yes. I will force you.”
Pierre laughs again. He does that a lot when he’s with Yuki. And he’s sure that he will do that even more from now on. They will share laughter and many other things, good and bad. They already have and they will continue to do so.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Yuki, always doing everything by force.”
“You never let me do anything otherwise,” Yuki retorts. And then, as if remembering something, Yuki pouts. “Actually, you never invited me to your house even if I forced you a lot. Until today. You know, I’m not sure you even like me.”
Pierre catches Yuki off guard when he slings his arms around Yuki’s shoulder and pulls him close, so close that their sides are practically attached. He then leans down and whispers into Yuki’s ear, “Just so you know, Yukino, the reason why I never invited you was to protect you.”
Yuki just glances at him in confusion, not quite catching the implications.
“I thought maybe if you sat on my lap or said the crazy things you usually say when we’re alone at my home, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”
And with that, Yuki is suddenly glowing bright red like a tomato and Pierre just laughs, always all too happy to get a reaction out of the younger.
“Maybe-“ Yuki starts and Pierre is giddily expecting his response. Yuki is usually always the one that’s so blunt and brave and has no filter, so it’s almost refreshing to see him hesitant like this.
Yuki clears his throat and with more conviction this time, holds on to the side of Pierre’s neck to keep him within earshot and says, “Maybe I don’t want to be protected, Pierre.”
If those words send a shiver down Pierre’s spine, he doesn’t admit it. Yuki doesn’t need to know. So with his usual stupor, Pierre simply smirks and moves even closer, dangerously close to Yuki’s ears, knowing fully that Yuki can feel every breath.
“Be careful what you say, chéri,” he whispers hotly. “Remember, you’re invited for dinner tonight.”
The flush always gives Yuki away, so there’s no use in hiding just how much Pierre can affect him.
“I know,” Yuki mutters before looking up to Pierre, gaze far too innocent for the conversation they’re having right now. “And since I am the guest, I should be able to eat whatever I want. No?”
Pierre has been holding back for too long, so he answers Yuki not with words, but with his lips on his mouth. It’s chaste and short and sweet, not nearly enough for what Pierre wants to do with Yuki, but he supposes that he has to save the best parts for later. He still stays there, connected to Yuki by the lips for as long as he can, enjoying their first of many, many kisses to come. When he pulls back, Yuki already seems out of breath. And Pierre hasn’t even gotten serious, god help him.
Pierre is convinced that Yuki is going to be the death of him, for sure, but because he doesn’t mind, he presses another short kiss to Yuki’s cheek and tells him;
“Yes, Yuki, you can have whatever you want. I’m all yours.”